#(grimaces in 'winter' and 'stress')

[likesdoodling]

I've been drawing a lot of people hugging for pose practice, so here we have Rozemyne and Ferdinand hugging. Because I can :D

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ NEW JOBS AND DEATH THREATS — cod x reader

CRAVE YOU — call of duty x reader CHAPTER ONE

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + alejandro vargas + rodolfo 'rudy' parra + könig + keegan p. russ

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, prison au, serial killer au, reverse harem, therapist/patient, medical inaccuracies, graphic violence, depictions of murder, everyone's unhinged, poly tf141, minor ships, threesomes, foursomes, gangbangs, this is not medical advice!!

series masterlist. read on ao3.

Life was hard. That was a fact.

Bills and groceries didn’t pay for themselves. That was also a fact.

Adding these two factors together, the final product will be a high-risk job in one of the highest-risk places on Earth. That’s… not a fact.

And yet, here you are, standing at the visitor entrance of Las Almas Prison, sporting a disgruntled grimace and a new pair of black slacks that you’d splurged on. They, at least, made your ass look good, although that was truly the least of your worries.

No. Your current list of worries looked something like this;

Getting Murdered

Getting Attacked

Vomiting Within The First Five Minutes Of Your New Job?

…Yeah. Something like that.

The early morning sun is blinding where it sits, just off to the side of the giant concrete building that was the main offices and Visitor Centre. The fact that you were standing in front of what was only a small part of the overall prison grounds was… alarming.

You were well aware that this was the largest prison in your country, housing the most lethal and awful of criminals. Some you’d seen either on the news, or heard of in passing conversations.

This was the real deal. And, somehow, you’d managed to find yourself being hired to work here. You. Work with serial killers. The worst of the worst.

With the stress on your bank account, and the endless struggle that was trying to find a stable career in the current job market, you simply had no other choice but to accept the offer. It paid extremely well, had great benefits, and your safety was… fairly considered.

The amount of NDAs, liability clauses and agreements, however?

Not the best at calming your nerves, to say the least.

The biting chill of the winter wind has you wrapping your arms around yourself, leather bag slung over your shoulder as you finally step through the automatic sliding door.

You’re not surprised to find that the chill only deepens inside the concrete walls of the building, with no heaters or air conditioning from what you can see. There is, however, bright white overhead lights that do nothing except aid the throbbing in the side of your head – probably due to the restless sleep you’d had the night before, anticipation and anxiety warring inside of your thoughts.

There’s an office in front of you as you step in, with only a few decades-old couches to your right, in front of a dingy TV that’s turned off. Saving their budget for more important things, you suppose.

The walls are a pale, grimy yellow, with sparse photos hung about, framing newspaper articles that are surely from the last century, and black and white pictures of the prison’s opening.

It’s an unsettling place, that much you’ve already gathered.

You haven’t even actually been inside the prison, you remind yourself, your stomach churning where it now lays at your feet.

Without a second thought, you continue with hurried steps to the front desk, where scratched plastic encases the sole woman inside, sitting behind a monitor. There’s a circle of holes that allow for sound to pass through, but other than that, there’s no way of entering from this room. With a quick study of your surroundings, you see a steel door to the left of where the desk sits, with a small square window covered in iron bars.

…Jesus christ.

“Can I help you?” The woman drawls, sliding her glasses further up her nose. Her voice is nasally, and the words come out in a slow drawl as she looks you up and down, unimpressed.

You give her your best smile, although even you can tell that it’s an uneasy one. “Yes! This is my first day, I think I’m supposed to be meeting Kate Laswell?” You ask, nerves betraying your voice with unsteady breaths.

The woman snaps her gum.

You stand there.

She blows it again.

You continue to stand there.

Her gaze is bored and completely void of any thought, before she nods slowly. “Laswell… I’ll call her.”

Really, you couldn’t be more shocked if you tried. What the fuck was happening? How could one lack so much… professionalism?

“Hi, Kate. Yes, it’s Jenny. I have a new hire who apparently wants to see you…” Her voice remains that unbearably slow, sloth-like delivery, before her eyes unhurriedly meet yours again. “What’s your name…?”

You give it to her, tone only the slightest bit impatient as you roll back on the heels of your feet. You can only hope that your black boots are appropriate; you’d figured that they were safe, closed-toe and still somewhat professional.

Time would tell. Jenny was giving you the impression that they were more than acceptable, because at least they got you to do your job in a timely manner.

Jenny says a few more words to who can only pray is Laswell on the other end of the phone, before she places it back in its holder. 

“Laswell will be here any…” She pops her gum once more, and maybe, just maybe, you can understand the urge to murder. “Moment.”

You give her a tight, painful smile. “Thank you, Jenny.”

She doesn’t respond, and you decide to just stand back and wait. You certainly weren’t complaining – any more conversation with her would’ve ended with a severe lack of hair on your head.

A minute passes, before a buzz in the pocket of your slacks has your throat tightening. 

Pulling out your phone, your next exhale comes out shaky as you read the text.

Charlie: get milk otw home used it all

No ‘good luck’. No… ounce of care for you, or the absolute stress that comes with a new job, let alone one like this.

When you’d told him about the offer, all he’d said was, “It might make you worth something for a change.” Didn’t even question, not for a minute, the risks that came with a job like this. He simply couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Doctor?” The sound of a door opening, and the kind, almost motherly tone of the voice has you shoving your phone into your pocket once more as you turn to the source of the sound.

It’s a woman, her hair pulled back into a slick bun, one hand holding what seems to be a clipboard. Her other hand rests in the pocket of a white coat, not unlike one a scientist would be fashioning in a lab. Her smile is warm, the corner of her eyes crinkling as you direct a smile of your own her way.

“Kate Laswell?” You ask, extending your hand for her to shake. Taking her hand out of her pocket, she accepts it gracefully, nodding her head.

“The one and only,” she says, before gesturing to the steel door she’d entered through. “Now, today we’ll get you set up with a keycard, general rules, and I’ll have you meet two of your patients.”

You nod, following her as she swipes a card in a black reader, before the red light buzzes green, and she pulls the door open. Right behind her, you take an unstable deep breath as you take in the greyed, jagged walls, a complete contrast to the painted ones of the entrance room.

“We really are so glad to welcome you to our team,” she continues, her black work shoes clicking against the smooth concrete flooring. She doesn’t turn to you as she speaks, but her voice carries around the echoey hallway. “You’ll make a great addition. A necessary one, also. We’ve needed an innovative, young therapist for a while. Most of our… previous hires have held out-dated beliefs, and a lack of humanity for their clientele.”

That makes your brows furrow in confusion. “That’s… odd,” you murmur, before pausing your steps as Laswell stops, swiping her keycard, before entering another room.

As you step into the newly revealed space, your eyes go wide as you take it in. 

It’s a wide, large space, with several floors. Metal staircases sit at either end of the vast space, allowing access to every floor. Guards sit at every level, some walking around the space where you and Laswell stand.

It’s a lot, all at once. You’d never even stepped foot into a prison – not before now.

“Most inmates are at the mess for breakfast,” Laswell supplies, turning to you with a neutral expression. She gestures for you to follow her back out of the space, and you do with hurried steps. “The ones you’ll be dealing with, however… they usually eat by themselves.”

You don’t decide to push that statement, not now, as you continue to follow her down the hallway.

“You won’t be seeing much of the prison,” she admits. “There’s heavily guarded spaces on the top floor for your sessions, both for your protection and for the safety of our staff and other low-risk inmates.”

You nod, humming a sound of affirmation as the two of you start heading up the cleaner steps at the end of the hallway. The staff staircase, you suppose.

“Today, you’ll be meeting two of our more… understanding ambers.”

You raise a brow. “Ambers? What does that mean?”

She turns her head over her shoulder, just enough to shoot you a knowing look. “Ambers are our highest-risk inmates. We house ten of them, and you’ll be dealing with eight as per your contract.”

Your stomach falls. You’d known, of course, that the risks were high when applying for this role. But… this was more than you’d imagined, in a way. Ambers. Huh.

Silence falls over the two of you as you make your way up the never-ending steps, no windows in sight. It’s unnerving, in a creepy, strange way. When you finally reach the top, you try and hide how out of breath you are from that small exertion.

Fucking christ.

Laswell, for her part, looks completely fine in an effortless way. You can’t eve find it in yourself to be envious. The feeling’s closer to admiration.

“Here’s the files on them both. You’ll be seeing Kyle Garrick first,” she hands you the clipboard she’d been carrying, and you accept it with only a slight tremble. She doesn’t comment on it, and you find yourself warming up to her already. “They’ll be restrained, and there is heavy security, so you needn’t worry about that side of things.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you say earnestly, flipping through the files without reading much of anything, not yet. 

She waves you off with a soft chuckle. “None of that. Kate’s more than fine,” she insists, and you give her a bright smile in return. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad – a boss like this was much better than a creepy middle-aged man any day of the week.

You don’t realise you’ve made it to a small room until she stops walking, scanning her keycard and pushing the door open, gesturing you in. “While you have your first two sessions, I’ll sort your keycard and the rest of the processes out. I wish you luck.”

With that, the door shuts behind you, and you’re alone in a small room.

It matches the rest of the hallways you’ve seen – grey concrete walls, grey concrete floors. The only furniture, however, is one metal table drilled into the floor in the centre, one chair on either side. 

…It’s depressing. Not at all like you’d prefer, not for a fucking therapy session, but then again, you hadn’t met your clients yet.

Ambers. High-risk.

With a deep breath, you take a seat at the chair closest to you, finally reading through the top file on the clipboard.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. 

You skim over the height, weight, sex – immediately reading the comments made and his sentence.

Mass murderer. Motivated attacks.

Your eyes go wide, almost comically so, as you bite at your lip, folding one leg over the other as you continue to read. 

Of course, you’d prepared, been made aware that you’d be dealing with murderers. But having it in black and white, right in front of you, is a whole other thing entirely. 

Apparently, they were motivated attacks. Targets being large CEOs, specifically those with reported claims of misuse of power, and those against green laws. Anti-environment types.

The motive is… you’re aware killing is bad. You hadn’t spent years studying for a degree in Psychology to think otherwise. But it wasn’t as simple as some made it out to be. You’d done papers suggesting that certain motives implied healthier patterns, healthier outlets.

If you had to choose between him killing pregnant women, and CEOs with broken moral compasses?

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out your answer.

You’re about to flip the page when there’s a knock on the door on the other side of the room, before it opens.

There’s two guards that walk in, before a man in an olive green jumpsuit follows, hands cuffed tightly together in front of him, head down. Another guard from behind shoves him in, too rough for your liking. You sit up straighter, eyes assessing as you take in the man in the jumpsuit.

He’s forced into the chair opposite you, before one of the guards grabs his cuffed wrists and chains them to a rig in the middle of the table. You’re grateful for the precautions, but there’s a part of you that feels guilty watching the manhandling of the seemingly calm man.

“Half an hour,” the most brutish guard of them all grits out, beer belly spilling out over his belted jeans. He jostles the chain attaching his wrists to the table unnecessarily, and your eyes narrow.

He goes to leave, along with another guard, but one stands to stay in position inside, beside the door.

Your brows furrow, and you speak up before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, sir, but my sessions will need confidentiality, as for the best results. I’m sure that I’ll be safe with his restraints.”

The guard stares you down, seemingly mulling your words over, before shrugging and leaving the room, door shutting behind him.

…Huh. Alright.

You find your posture relaxing, just slightly, which is odd, considering you’re now only a metre or two away from a convicted murderer.

His gaze is trained to the table, left foot tapping incessantly against the concrete floor.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gaz,” you say with a soft tone and a gentle smile. You figure that his nickname is the best bet, not wanting to stir up any possible traumas with his given name during your first session with the man. “I’ll be your new psychiatric evaluator.”

His eyes flick up, meeting yours, and he nods slowly, as if awaiting a punchline. 

“Is it okay for me to call you Gaz?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and flipping to an empty page to take notes on. You’d need to grab a notebook from home, you decide.

He relaxes, only the smallest of movements, and he nods. “Gaz, yeah.”

Your smile widens at the small victory. Any step towards progress was a huge one, in your eyes. You’d be facing a lot of them in the coming days.

“Do you have any advice for this place?” You push, trying to form a bond of trust with the dark-haired man. “I’m gonna be honest, you’re my first patient, and I’ve only met Laswell and… Jenny?”

His mouth quirks at that, a dimple showing to the left of his mouth as he looks back up at you. “Jenny’s a character, ain’t she?”

You laugh, a genuine one, and nod. “She certainly is. You’ve met her?”

He shrugs, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Few times, yeah. She drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” His accent is only minimally apparent, but his voice is of a somewhat humorous tone.

Small victories.

“Well,” he exhales, settling into his chair a bit as he seems to ponder. “Do ya know who else you’re assigned to?”

You’d been sure to thoroughly go over your contract, and you were allowed to disclose your other patients between your others. They’d find out within the day, anyways, so there was no point in being discreet.

“It’s only you and a… John Price? Today. I’m sure I’ll find out the other six over the next few days,” you say, appreciating that he’s starting conversations. It’s more than you’d allowed yourself to hope for.

Gaz’s eyes light up, and even if you hadn’t been incessant in watching him, it’d be an obvious shift in emotions. “Price?”

You nod, quickly making a note on your clipboard, before folding your hands in your lap as you gesture for him to continue with a quick inclination of your head.

“He’s the best. Man’s a legend,” he enthuses. “Love ‘im.”

There’s… a hidden truth to that statement, that you make a mental note to unpack during a later session. Your smile is a natural one as you say, “He’s an amber, correct? Laswell told me I’d been assigned eight out of ten ambers… you’re one of them, right?”

Gaz seems to fold into himself, and you kick yourself for going back to square one. He answers, however.

“...Yeah. Only Ghost ‘nd Valeria are aggressive, though. We’re just… misunderstood,” he murmurs, and in the back of your brain, you find yourself believing his words.

“Thank you,” you smile, and he responds with a sharp one of his own. Maybe you’d covered more ground than you’d expected. “I think it’d been mentioned that I was only assigned men, due to the nature of the job, or something like that.”

Seeming to mull over your words, he starts to slowly nod. “Sounds ‘bout right. As long as you don’t get Graves, you’ll be alright. The others are… fuckin’ weird, but they’re good men. Mostly.”

That’s a lot of information at once, and quite frankly, it takes a moment for you to process. 

“‘Good men’. What do you think it takes to be a good man?” You ask, curiosity laced into your tone. Getting to ask such questions of a convicted murderer, it’s a thrilling, exhilarating task.

His eyes don’t shift as he replies. “Good men do the acts others are too scared to do. They see the evil in the world, and rid of it with their own bare hands. You can be an ethical murderer, Doc.”

Those words, they’re – they’re authentic, and conviction aches in their structure. 

You swallow around a dry mouth.

“You think you’re a good man?” You ask.

His smile would be seen as warm to any who weren’t aware of his acts, but to you – it’s chilling. Haunting in a way you’ve never experienced.

It remains as he answers.

“I think that I’m a man who people wish they had the bravery to be.”

a/n. okay so im really nervous about posting this, cause ITS EIGHT FUKCING LOVE INTERESTS and also im a humanities girl not a science one!! sociology all the way not psych!! so forgive me for all the inaccuracies and legality issues please. im just a girl. hopefully u guys will like this one? i mean, obsessed serial killers cod is smth i need so here we are. all comments and feedback mean so muchhh ty ily mwah mwah mwah

taglist comment/msg to be added. [nothing to see here.]

[whore-era]

glue

☁︎ mean!ellie williams x fem!reader ☁︎ themes: grumpy x sunshine trope, reader chasing after ellie ☁︎ summary: in which jackson's sweetest girl crushes on the town's grumpy asshole. ☁︎ a/n: loosely inspired by the cartoon 'puca puca' lmao, hope yall luv this one ♡ ☁︎ word count: 6,883

spring was coming in swiftly, and you couldn’t be more excited. the snow was beginning to melt, and the town was experiencing small spouts of rain, kickstarting the bloom of some of the most beautiful flowers in the surrounding forest. 

it finally gave you a reason to take out your spring-wear and put your thick and heavy winter coats away in the back of your closet. fashion and clothing was a hobby you found yourself engrossed in, taking the time to carefully curate bright outfits and sew together your own unique pieces, utilizing whatever scraps of fabric you could get your hands on. it certainly took your mind off the reality of what went on behind these walls, a responsibility you could never imagine partaking in. everyone in town held those who went on patrol on high pedestals, thanking them for their brave service of facing those monstrosities and protecting us every day. 

thankfully, maria assigned you the responsibility of the town’s animal caretaker. tenderly providing the animals with food, care, and love. it was a job you absolutely dreamed of, always having a deep fondness for animals, even since you were a small child. 

“oh, jeez, minnie, i think you’re about ready to almost pop,” you mutter, feeding straws of hay to minnie, the beautiful, big, brown cow. she was one of two cows you had on the farm and was currently pregnant, ready to give birth to a cute, little calf. 

minnie doesn’t say anything, and chews on the grain instead. but you like to think that minnie understands your shared conversations, and often expresses her opinions in little ‘moos’. it was either that, or you were actually going insane.

“i think we’ll name your baby….buttercup,” you suggest, rubbing minnie’s ears, “doesn’t that sound lovely, minnie?” and she lets out a little snort, inciting a small smile from you.

checking your wristwatch, your eyes widen. “oops, almost time for patrol. i’ll be back later, sweet lady,” you say as you give minnie’s nose a gentle rub. getting up on your feet, you go to the sink and wash your hands, drying them and using another rag to wipe off any dirt or debris from your light blue overalls. 

this was your usual routine. waking up bright and early, heading to the barn to feed the animals, and making sure they have enough water and are groomed. then, you head over to the stables and help the other stableboys get the horses ready for patrol. yeah, the horses were absolute cuties, but a huge part of the reason you volunteered to go to the stables was so you could see ellie williams before patrol. 

ellie williams was a dream. a dream you’ve been wishing for since you were 13 years old. you were enamored with how fearless she was. she was famous in town for her journey with joel, and what the duo survived out in the open world — causing everyone to heavily praise the two, and think of them in high regard. but you could see there was more to her than meets the eye. yeah, sure, she was a little rough around the edges, but who wasn’t after seeing what she experienced? ellie was usually quiet, and reserved, mostly keeping to herself and her close friends and family. 

the younger folks in jackson think ellie was an ass and a big ole’ grouch. always having a grimace gracing her face or a ‘resting bitch face’ that’d intimidate even the most dangerous of bloaters. but those accusations never startled you.

over the years you’ve tried to get closer to ellie, going out of your way to give her gifts and cooking foods you know she likes. it was your way of helping ellie feel better and relax after a stressful day of patrol, and it was the least you could do. sometimes ellie would get a teensy bit annoyed with you, and would occasionally tell you to tone it down, but you just blamed it on her exhaustion due to patrol.

as you brushed shimmer’s mane, you picked up some baby’s breath that bloomed in your mother's garden and began to tuck it into the creases of the braid you were creating.

“do you feel beautiful, shim?” you ask her, “‘cause you look beautiful.” you giggle, rubbing her nose.

putting down the small pail you used to hold the flowers in, your eyes shift to the exit, raking them over the brunette a few feet away from you. your heart flips in your chest, and you let out a small sigh, fawning over her — ellie williams. 

everything moved in a slow, fluid motion as she turned and headed in your direction. it was like a spotlight was shining right at her, following her every movement. you could only imagine how it’d be to have the privilege of being ellie’s girlfriend, to hold her hand, to kiss her goodbye, to nuzzle into her body during those cold winters. it was a fantasy only your diary had the pleasure of holding. 

there was only one girl in this entire town who held the reputation of being ellie’s girlfriend, well, ex-girlfriend. it was dina woodward. they dated for a brief six months, before splitting up and continuing a civil friendship. you weren’t sure what the real reason was for their breakup, but rumors say they ended things because ellie was a terrible partner, never doing anything ‘romantic’ for her or showing any real affection towards her. others say they only got together because they were fooling around when they were out during patrol, and when word of it got out, they thought they’d might as well be together to save face.

but rumors were just rumors and you were never the type of person to believe such things unless they came from the actual source.

your body reacted before your mind could, and before you knew it, you were jogging over towards ellie, throwing your arms around her neck, “good morning, ellie!!”

ellie rolled her eyes, annoyed by the sudden physical contact and loud voice booming so early in the morning. she took hold of your hips, attempting to pry you off her, “alright, alright, that’s enough.”

pulling away and facing her, you smile sheepishly, “sorry, sorry— forgot you hated it when i got a little loud, especially before patrol.”

she huffed, crossing her arms in frustration. ellie knew you as the girl who had this puppy-sick crush on her the moment she arrived at jackson. as young tweens, you chased her around the school grounds, craving any bit of her attention and bothering her whenever the moment arose, like taking every open opportunity to be her partner during class or science experiments. you were the gum on the bottom of her boot, stuck and stubborn, never budging. 

but as the years progressed, she’s learned to tolerate you, thinking you’d eventually get tired of her somehow. giving up after the unreciprocated feelings and chasing after another unlucky fool.

“what happened to shimmer’s mane?” ellie questioned, poking at the flowers adorning the horse’s hair. 

“i braided some flowers in it,” you smile proudly, “she’s cute, huh?”

she nodded mindlessly, and leaned into shimmer’s ear, “i’ll take those off when we get outta here.” 

you made sure to grab the paper bag and held it out to ellie, “i made you lunch again. i left a little note in there, so make sure you read it, m’kay?” you smiled, nodding towards the bagged lunch. 

ellie apprehensively took the bag from your hands, and gave you a curt nod, “yea,” she murmured, “thanks.”

shoving the bag in her backpack, she took ahold of shimmer’s leads, guiding her out of the stables. but you gently touched her arm, “um, ellie.”

she turns slightly, “hm?”

“be safe out there, okay? i’ll be here, waiting for you,” you bite your lip, “and if something happens to you, i’ll— uh— come lookin’ for ya! and i’ll beat those uglies up!”

you smile widely, feeling a bit embarrassed by your word choice, but she got your message. with an awkward smile, she mutters “thanks.”

before she turns again, you move quickly and wrap your arms around her again, giving her a tight squeeze before pecking her on the cheek. a warm, rush of crimson fanned across her cheeks, turning her a bright, cherry red. 

“okay, okay! that’s enough,” ellie groans.

“sorry, sorry,” you pull off and quickly smooth out her clothes, but she just turns away and walks off with shimmer at full tilt. 

as ellie approaches beside jesse, he does a double-take and gawks at her, his curious eyes scanning the face of the girl next to him.

“wow, dude, you look like a tomato-” ellie cut him off.

“shut the fuck up, jess. just shut up.”

as much as you aggravated ellie, she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit to herself that you made her feel something. something she desperately wanted to despise. 

and if there was one thing that was true about her, it was that ellie williams was no liar. 

- 

after arriving at one of the checkpoints along the route, jesse and ellie tied their horses and settled at the abandoned fire lookout tower, taking a much-needed break.

ellie picked off the white florets from shimmer’s hair, letting the small flowers fall to the ground. 

“god, she put so many in here,” ellie muttered, irritated by how many little flowers tangled in the horse’s mane. jesse peered over at her, amusedly watching her peel off the petals and toss them over her shoulder. 

“she ‘do that?” jesse questioned, referring to you as he rummaged through the saddle bag of his horse.

ellie sighed, “yea.” 

“she did a pretty good job,” jesse smiled, “she’s nice for doin’ that.”

she huffed, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time today, “whatever,” she mutters, “shimmer is a brave and strong woman. this shit just makes her look— like a joke.”

the raven-haired boy shook his head in disagreement, “i just think you try to make yourself hate whatever she does.” 

ellie stopped to glare at him, “not true.” 

she didn’t care what you did. she just didn’t want you to involve your perky, bubbly nonsense in her business. ellie thought of you as the complete opposite of her, and being opposites, she couldn’t manage to be around you. you were sunshine, rainbows, puppies, bubbles, and an optimist. ellie was the moon, darkness, crows, horror movies, and a pessimist. two different things. two things that didn’t mix. 

“lies. you try to find every little thing wrong with her, but you can’t admit the truth. she’s the sweetest.” ellie tried her best to ignore the words coming from jesse’s mouth, but she couldn’t. it frustrated her how much he thought you affected her. it was simply false. 

sure, ellie tries to shake off the feeling of pride she gets when you look up at her with adoring eyes and call her ‘brave’ after a day out on patrol, and yeah, she tries to brush away the heat that rises to her face when she sees your face light up every morning when you first see her, but that’s because it doesn’t mean anything. the way ellie blushed rose red after you kissed her cheek this morning meant absolutely nothing. 

“she’s the nicest girl in town,” jesse goes on as the pair take a seat on the wooden steps of the tower, “and you’re being an asshole.”

“yeah, whatever. let’s eat.” ellie attempts to shift the conversation, feeling uneased about all this discussion of you. jesse shrugged, opening his pack and taking out a wrapped-up pack of bison jerky and an apple and took a crispy, juicy bite from the fruit.

ellie took out the paper bag, taking a minute to stare at the ‘for ellie :)’ written in black marker. unfolding the bag, she takes out a tupperware and opens the lid revealing a roasted turkey sandwich on a homemade french roll, freshly made potato chips, a small salad, and a little fruit tart on the side. she takes the small paper in her hand, reading the note you wrote for her:

let me know how you like the food! everything was made this morning and packed with love. be safe and have a great day ellie!

p.s you look pretty today :) 

xoxoxo

ellie suppressed the tiny flutters of butterflies floating in her stomach, blaming it on her evergrowing hunger, and crumpled the note, tossing it back in the paper bag. 

“woah, where’d you get that?” jesse said with a mouth full of jerky, “couldn’t bother to get me one?”

she rolled her eyes, “she always gives me lunch before patrol. you wanna share?” 

jesse shook his head at her offer, “nah, i’m good. don’t think your little housewife would be happy to hear you didn’t finish your food, ma’am,” jesse teased, letting out a chuckle. 

dragging out a groan, ellie closed her eyes before opening them again, “she’s not my— oh, fuck off.”

she chucked a chip at him, the crispy snack hitting him on the shoulder as he laughed again. 

there were a lot of things ellie’s didn’t like about you, but she had to admit, you were a damn good cook. 

-

the sunshine was something you’ve grown to appreciate during your time in jackson. as the winters can drag out for months, you took every opportunity to bask in the sun outside when the weather deemed it possible to do so. during the hotter months in town, you loved getting dressed in flowy dresses and letting the sun kiss your skin tan. it was a treat you and the rest of the people in town enjoyed, especially when everyone took their loved ones to the lake nearby and waded in the cool, fresh water.

after ellie left for patrol in the morning, the weather decided to look up and the sun beamed brighter in the clear, blue skies today, giving you the perfect chance to change out of your overalls and into a cute blouse with puffy sleeves and a pair of blue denim jean shorts. 

sitting on a bench perched outside the fence of the cow’s pen, you let yourself relax, soaking up the warmth radiating from the sunshine and occasionally taking sips from the ice, cold lemonade mrs. meyers made for the workers. 

your ears perked up at the bustling clanks of the main gates opening. sitting up and shielding your eyes from the sun, you take a look and see that ellie and jesse are back from patrol. jumping up in excitement, you set your drink down and sprint over to the stables, excited to see ellie again.

“ellie!” you yell out as she hops off her horse. with wide eyes, she hurriedly hides behind jesse, taking advantage of his taller height and wider build.

“cover for me.” ellie mutters to jesse. 

winded and breathing heavily from the run, you clutch your abdomen and catch your breath, “where’d ellie go? i just saw her.” 

jesse smirks, and ellie looks up at him. don’t you dare. don’t you dare. don’t you fucking dare. 

he steps aside, revealing ellie, hunched forward in a pathetic attempt to hide from you. 

“she’s right here.” jesse smiles, and walks away, staring at ellie as he leaves the both of you alone. 

ellie throws a quick glare his away, before standing up straight and clearing her throat, “hey— uh— i was just fixing my— uh..jacket.”

it was a wretched sight to see. ellie’s lame excuse for avoiding you. if it were anyone else, she’d have no problem telling them to ‘fuck off’ and to leave her alone. but with you, she didn’t have the guts to tell you she was avoiding you. why? she didn’t know. maybe she didn’t want to see your feelings hurt. 

but you were oblivious to this. it was a regular occurrence for you to miss things and let them go right over your head, but it was because you saw the good in everyone, even ellie. 

“how was patrol? see anything interesting?” you pondered to ellie, walking alongside her as she begin her trek back to her house. 

“nah, just the same old shit,” ellie speeds up her pace, and you struggle to keep up with her long legs, nearly stumbling over your own.

“so, uh, ellie,” you stammered, “i wanted to ask if you were doing anything tonight?” 

this was your corny way of asking her on a date, something you’ve been wanting to do for ages. 

“uh, yeah—” ellie scratched the back of her neck, “i’m real busy tonight.”

false. ellie’s evening consisted of smoking a joint and immersing herself in volume 14 of her favorite comic book. but she already knew, there was no telling what’d happen if she were to be alone with you. 

ellie strictly kept her distance from you and always made sure there were other people around you two while talking. it was her way of being in control. she was terrified of what would happen if her feelings were to rise to the surface and reign sovereignty over her. 

“oh okay,” you thought for a moment, “how about tomorrow night?”

“uhh, not available tomorrow either. sorry.” ellie avoided your gaze, instead letting her eyes fall to the ground, but to her inconvenience, her eyes gravitated to the sight of your bare legs underneath those shorts, only imagining what she’d do if she could feel the smooth skin under her fingertips. 

ellie pushed her thoughts to the side. this is what she didn’t want. she couldn’t let herself think these vile thoughts. she couldn’t let her guard down. she couldn’t allow herself to trust and be vulnerable. ellie had to control herself, doing whatever means necessary to keep you far, far away.

“hmph, okay. it’s fine,” you frown for a moment before forcing a smile on your face, “maybe another time.” 

“mhm, sure.” 

as you turn away and head in a different direction, ellie let her eyes watch you walk away, ignoring the tight squeeze in her heart that occurs every time you leave. she knew whatever she did, her feelings for you only grew, scaring her more than any clicker could. 

that evening, you prepared the farm animal's last meal for tonight and filled up their water basins. but you couldn’t focus, your mind distracted by that certain green-eyed girl. it was almost wearisome having these many feelings for one person, your mind consumed by her very existence, to the point where you couldn’t even focus on work. 

startling yourself, you feel the pointy straws of hay poking your legs as you overfilled minnie’s feeder. 

“ugh, minnie,” you groan, “ what the heck am i gonna do with ellie?” 

you grabbed the broom, and began sweeping the stray hay that fell onto the floor, letting yourself vent to the cow. 

“i know, i know, everyone might think she’s a big ole’ grump,” you begin, “but i don’t see her that way. she’s so brave and she’s so smart! i see her reading her astronomy books all the time.”

you smile at yourself, the image of ellie sitting on the brown wicker chair on the porch pops in your brain. “when it gets late at night, i see her doodling the stars and planets,” you fawn, “shh, don’t tell her i told you that.” 

you sigh, leaning your cheek against the top of the broom’s handle, “she’s just so— amazing. a real special person. she deserves everything in the world for all she does.” 

as silence fills the barn, you gasp, minnie’s eyes widening in surprise. “maybe i’ll do something big for her. to show her how much she means to me.” 

you lean the broom against the wall, “thank you, minnie. for always listening to me.” you rub her head before you scurry out of the barn, heading home to lay out your plans. leaving minnie to chew on the straws of grain. 

- 

february 14th

“fucking shit!” ellie yelled, throwing her backpack off her back, creating a loud thud as it landed on the floor of the weapon’s armory shed. today’s patrol was particularly grueling today as she and jesse were confronted with two bloaters and four raiders. after a gruesome fistfight with the raiders, all the men did was loot their weapons and supplies and left them alive with their horses. they were considered extremely lucky, as in most cases, the raiders would’ve left them dead. 

“c’mon, we did good out there,” jesse remarked attempting to lighten the mood, but he should’ve known there was no worth in trying to cheer up an already pissed-off ellie. 

“yea, talking as if we didn’t almost fucking died today,” ellie snapped, “two separate times.”

“you know what you need?”

“what?”

“to blow off some steam. get cleaned up and head over to the bar,” jesse smirked at her, but she rolled her eyes, not wanting to do anymore socializing after the dreadful day she had. 

“not today, jess. i jus’ wanna go home, get this shit off me, and sleep for ten hours.”

“c’mon, you buzzkill. it’s valentines day after all,” he sighed, “you gonna spend it cooped up alone in your room?”

“yup.”

“please, ellie. just come with me. let’s celebrate our win today.” 

ellie thought for a moment, and knowing jesse would never take no for an answer for things like these, she reluctantly agreed, “fine.”

- 

unlike ellie, you were beaming, reeling in the ecstatic mood your favorite holiday has brought. valentine’s day was a day for love and celebration in the town of jackson. the local kids would decorate the buildings with red and pink heart streamers and maria always hosted a lovely get-together filled with delicious food, good music, and slow dances.

your heart skipped a beat at the thought of slow dancing with ellie — her hands on your waist, your arms slung around her neck, your bodies swaying ever so slowly along the rhythm of the song.

your hands fixed the pink ribbon in the back of your hair and adjusted some strands of hair to frame your face. you swiped some oil across your lips to give them a sheen gloss and adjusted the long sleeves of your red dress. you felt pretty. 

scrambling towards the kitchen, you flip open the white box, doubling checking the cake and making sure it didn’t need any last-minute toppings. satisfied with your baked creation, you closed the box and secured it in your hands, preparing to head out the door and make your way toward the tipsy bison.

during the walk there, you quietly rehearsed the speech you had prepared in your head. you were a bundle of nerves as you anxiously ran through the words over and over again, hoping by the time you made it to the bar, you got it down and wouldn’t make yourself look like a complete fool in front of ellie and her friends.

one of your hands pushed against the doors of the bar, the bell tinkling as you entered the establishment. you greeted a few familiar faces and smiled at barry, the regular bartender. but your mind was set on finding ellie, nothing less, so your eyes scanned the area and settled on a certain brunette who was sitting at a booth, amongst her chattering friends as she sipped on a glass of bourbon. 

you couldn’t help the smile that curled on your lips, “ellie!”

the brunette snapped her head at the sound of her name, but she let out a despondent groan after realizing it was you. she wasn’t in the mood nor did she have the patience to deal with you tonight, but nothing could stop you from heading in her direction. 

“ah, shit. she’s coming.” ellie takes a long swig of her drink, hoping the alcohol would make this entire ordeal more tolerable.

“be nice, ellie.” dina snapped as you approached their table. 

you smiled at everyone — jesse, dina, kelly, evan, ellie — and greeted them with a “happy valentines day everyone!”

everyone smiled and held up their drinks in acknowledgment as your eyes flickered on the girl in front of you. “can i talk to you, ellie? alone?”

a mixture of excitement and nerves flooded your body as you were getting ready to execute your plan.

ellie, however, was growing more worried and worried by each passing second. your little red dress was the first thing that caught her eye. the way that it hugged your figure and sat right above your knees to reveal the bare flesh of your legs made her want to protect you from the staring eyes of all the men in here and beat them into a pulp for thinking whatever perverted thoughts that clouded their head. the second thing that got her attention was the shine of your lips and how it managed to make them look pouty and tempting to kiss, an urge ellie had fought so hard to restrain. 

she cleared her throat, and laid back nonchalantly, trying to exude this false sense of confidence, “you can say it here.”

you swallowed thickly, “here? i-in front of everyone?”

“yup.”

looking around nervously, you hesitantly agreed as her friends had their eyes on you, completely immersed in your interaction. 

“alright, i guess i’ll just— come out with it.”

you took a deep breath to soothe your nerves. “ellie, we’ve known each other for years now, and in that time, i’ve– uh— grown to really, really like you. i think you’re so pretty and one of the bravest people in town— and— and you’re so intelligent, the way you know so much about space and stuff.”

if someone were to put a tomato next to ellie’s face, the resemblance would be uncanny. 

“what i’m trying to say is— is that i really hope you could give me a chance— give us a chance— and let me take you out on a date and show you how happy i can make you,” your voice shook, “i swear, ellie. i’d make you the happiest girl in the world.”

you opened the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake covered in pink frosting with the words ‘be mine’ in red buttercream and held it out to her. 

ellie was aghast, and she didn’t know what to say. her mind was going a mile a minute, and numerous emotions were shooting through her body. ellie felt so special and loved, a feeling she rarely ever experienced. she was frozen, yet the next words that would utter in her mouth would leave her regretting ever coming to the bar.

“i’m sorry. i— i don’t think i can do this.”

your brows furrowed, “wh-what do you mean?

“you. you’re too much. you’re always hovering, always around, always calling out my name when you see me. you follow me around and i’m sick of it,” ellie couldn’t stop the words from leaving her mouth, “please, just— leave me alone.”

the moment the words fell from her lips, she immediately felt regret. guilt washed over her the minute she saw your face fall and eyes fill up with tears. fuck. she didn’t know what made her lash out at you like that— perhaps it was the alcohol or the fucked up day this was, but she knew there was no excuse to say any of those things to you.

your lips wobbled, and a tear rolled down your cheek, “ellie williams,” you squeaked, “i never wanna see you again.” 

you dropped the boxed cake onto the wooden floor, the frosting flinging everywhere, and ran out of the bar. ellie wanted to run after you so badly, to take you in her arms and kiss your tears away, but she couldn’t. she was a coward. 

“congratulations, you just got 1st place for being the biggest, fucking asshole.” jesse snapped, but ellie didn’t bother responding, knowing what he said was true.

- 

ellie didn’t see you for a week after valentines day, and that transition from hearing your voice call her name every morning, feeling your arms wrap around her neck to hug her before she leaves, and enjoying your home-cooked meals to nothing at all was like night and day. it was quiet and silent, and all the color that filled her days was suddenly drained to a mere gray without you. 

ellie thought that maybe you were just purposely avoiding her, so she started showing up early at the stables before she left for patrol, but you were never there. then, she started walking around the barns, to see if you were occupying your time by tending to the animals, but no, you weren’t there either. 

unbeknownst to ellie, you spent the entire week at home, sulking in your pajamas and shoveling your favorite junk foods in your mouth while watching your favorite 90’s romantic comedy as an effort to mend your broken heart. you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of leaving the four walls of your home after being humiliated by ellie. 

after spending your days cooped up at home, you finally felt ready to come back to work at the barn. it was currently early in the morning, and you just opened the gates to the fence, letting minnie, the chickens, and a couple of the sheep graze on the grass.

as ellie walked towards the stables for patrol, she caught a glimpse of you from her peripheral vision and nearly broke her neck doing a double take. she knew it was you because you were the only one in this town who owned a pair of bright, yellow overalls. 

there you were, leaning against the wooden fence watching the animals as the sun sat on the edge of the horizon, painting hues of violet and saffron across the sky. ellie appeared next to you, leaning her arms against the wood surface. 

“uh, hey.”

you ignored her.

“how’re things?

silence.

“the animals doin’ okay?”

quiet.

“are you just gonna keep ignoring me?” yes. 

you sighed and turned to head back into the barns, not bothering to look at her. 

“i guess i deserved that.” ellie mutters, watching you walk away. she knew needed to apologize to you and she knew just the way to do it. 

- 

the day after ellie’s failed plan of getting you to talk to her, she conjured up a way to apologize to you.

as ellie was coming back from patrol, she carefully held the bouquet of vibrant, golden sunflowers in her hands. she remembered to bring her switchblade to cut them off of their long stems and tie them together into a beautiful bunch.

she knew how much you loved sunflowers, and remembered how you always used to beg her to take you outside of the gates so you could go collect some so you can plant your own. 

with a little pep in her step, ellie was confident that you would love the gift she got for you and you’d surely talk to her again in no time. everything would go back to how it was before. 

ellie approached the entrance of the barn, seeing you tend to minnie and rubbing the side of her belly. a ghost of a smile made its way onto her lips, and she walked towards you, tapping you on the shoulder. 

your head snapped around and looked at her, a neutral expression on your face. no more bright smile.

ellie coughed nervously, and she handed the bouquet of sunflowers to you, “here, these are for you,” you took them from her hands, “they’re pretty, just like you.”

you cautiously looked down at the posy of marigold sunflowers. 

she fucking loves them. i could tell already, ellie thought to herself. she had to suppress the proud smirk that was about to appear on her face. 

but you did something even ellie couldn’t predict. 

you picked one flower from the bunch, and you began feeding it to minnie. minnie took the floret in her mouth, and smacked on it contentedly, clearly enjoying her mid-afternoon snack.

as minnie chomped on the rest of the bouquet, you turned your heel and left ellie alone to her thoughts. 

“god, i’m so dumb,” ellie groans, and she peers at the small brown mammal, “at least someone likes them,” she comments as minnie looks at her with big, brown eyes.

- 

the next morning, ellie came to the stables early, hoping you’d be there, and to her surprise, you were.

ellie had came up with a new game plan to apologize to you. her first mistake with the bouquet was that she was trying to ‘woo’ you with gifts, but maybe what you needed was for her to just be honest with you and to open up. that was what ellie spent the rest of her night doing, writing a deep letter about her feelings for you and how sorry she is for telling you all those horrible things. 

as usual, you were with shimmer, brushing her coat and making sure she was groomed. from the corner of your eye, you could see ellie coming towards you, and you braced yourself.

she stopped in front of you and handed you a red envelope with your name on it. taking it from her hands, she smiles at you and takes shimmer’s leads from you, gently guiding her away. 

ellie took the time to put on shimmer’s saddle and to pack her bag with some extra treats for her during patrol, but she couldn’t help but think of your reaction to her letter. she imagined the smile that graced your face as you opened the letter and saw the little stickers adorning the border of the paper and reading over the black ink. 

but ellie was wrong. very, very wrong. 

as ellie turned her head to sneak a peek at you, she was startled to see you already looking straight at her. maintaining eye contact, you ripped up the letter and tossed it in the pile of horseshit. you brushed off your hands and walked away, feeling accomplished by your petty deed.

ellie turned to shimmer, “i guess i should’ve seen that one coming.”

- 

after a couple of days contemplating what to do with you, ellie decided enough was enough and that she was going to confront you, no matter what. 

the sun had already set, and the moon had overshadowed the dark, night sky. ellie climbed up the stairs of your house, and pressed three loud knocks against your door, adjusting the straps of the guitar gig bag on her shoulders. 

at first, she thought you weren’t going to answer the door, but after a momentary silence followed by a couple of sounds of shuffling, the door swung open. 

ellie assumed you were about to go to bed, as evidenced by your oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants hugging your hips. 

“hi,” you greeted, the sound of your voice surprising ellie after not having heard it for a while.

“hey,” ellie replied, “can i come in?”

you move aside, giving her room to step inside your home.

“where are your parents?” ellie queries, knowing they’d usually be home around this time.

“upstairs, asleep,” you nudged your head towards the hallway, “we’ll talk in my room.”

ellie follows behind you as you lead the way to your bedroom, opening the door and plopping down on your bed. she closes your bedroom door and slowly walks around, almost as if she’s scared to make any sudden movements.

she finally sits on your desk chair in front of you, taking off her guitar bag and setting it down on the floor next to her.

you weren’t sure what compelled you to finally talk to ellie and let her in your home, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease and anxiety. there was no telling what she was really here for.

“i came here because i wanted to apologize,” ellie murmured, “i’ve been trying to apologize for a couple of days now and i’m gonna keep on trying because what i did was really, really shitty.”

you were silent for a brief moment, “...yeah. it was shitty.”

ellie sighed, “i’ll apologize a million times if you want me to.”

“ellie— you don’t get it. you humiliated me in front of the whole town,” your voice cracked, “i don’t think i could forgive you that easily.”

her heart squeezed in your chest seeing the tears well up in your eyes and hearing the little sniffles coming from your nose. it was her fault you were hurt. she did this.

ellie got up and sat on your bed next to you, letting her feelings overcome her and allowing herself to wrap her arms around your frame, holding you close as you cried into her hoodie.

you pulled away from her chest, looking up at her with glossy eyes, “i was nothing but nice to you, els. you could’ve told me something if i was bothering you,” you wiped a tear, “i would’ve left you alone.”

ellie sighed and brushed your hair out of your face, her entire demeanor softening as she was consumed by your presence, “i didn’t want you to leave me alone.”

“huh?” you gave her a confused look.

“look, i’m not really good at showing my feelings. whenever i try to express how i feel or whatever, it goes sideways and i end up fucking up,” ellie explained, “i really do like you, a whole shit ton. i love everything you do for me and i love how you’re always there and how you wear these crazy bright colors and how you talk to the animals in that one baby voice.”

heat rose to your cheeks and it was impossible to hide the blush that spread across your nose.

“i want to be with you,” she confessed, “i just get terrified of being vulnerable and opening up. love makes you do crazy shit and i don’t know— i hate not being in control.”

you were silent, thinking carefully of what to say next. ellie was internally begging for you to say something, anything.

“love means taking risks and being out of your comfort zone, els,” you whispered quietly, “take the leap.”

ellie soaked in your words. take the leap. take the leap. take. the. leap. 

her hand cupped your cheek and she leaned in, pressing her lips against yours, tasting the salt of your tears. ellie’s lips moved gently against yours, not wanting to show any urgency toward you.

she felt your hand creep up to the side of her neck, rubbing against her soft skin as you deepen the kiss. 

ellie pulls away, leaning her forehead against yours, “i’m sorry, baby. please, i can’t bear being without you,” she whispers, “i’m so, so sorry. i’ll never be an asshole to you again.” 

“i’ll forgive you this one time, williams,” you murmur, “but don’t take my kindness for weakness.”

ellie pulled away, taking her acoustic guitar out of her bag and placing it in her lap.

“here, let me sing you a song i know you’ll love.”

ellie’s fingers strummed the strings, playing a chord.

i’ve never known someone like you

tangled in love, stuck by you

from the glue

her voice sang the lyrics to your favorite song, eliciting that beaming smile she’d missed so badly.

don’t forget to kiss me 

or else you’ll have to miss me

i guess i’m stuck forever by the glue

a tear rolled down your cheek, as you were overwhelmed with joy at the site of her singing. something not too many had the privilege of experiencing. 

finding the right words to use for this song

i have you in mind

so it won’t take so long

never thought i’d find you

but you’re here and so i love you

as the lyrics left ellie’s lips, she knew she’d chosen the right song to sing for you. as this song described everything you both have gone through, being attached to each other like glue.

i’m not wrong when i say i’ve been stuck

by the glue onto you

i’ve been stuck by glue

right onto you

i’ve been stuck by glue

the song came to an end, and ellie placed the guitar down, feeling unnerved from you watching her sing for the first time. you sniffle and smiled, throwing your arms around her and hugging her tightly.

“i loved it! you were amazing, els!” you quipped, inciting a small laugh from ellie.

“glad you liked it, babe.”

you pull away slightly to face her, “gosh, how i missed you,” you exasperate, “it was torture having to ignore you for days.”

ellie lets out a laugh, “oh yeah? if anything, i think out of the both of us, you’re the meaner one.”

you smile and shrug your shoulders, “what can i say, williams? you bring out that side to me.”

ellie smiles and pecks your cheek, “and you bring out the softer side to me, baby,” she points out, “isn’t it ironic? we’re total opposites yet we bring these sides out of each other.” 

“yeah, it is a bit funny,” you giggle, “but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡

[minkyungseokie]

Bali Meet-Cute | Logan Sargeant

synopsis; when vacationing in Bali, y/n accidentally meets a cute American F1 driver after he photobombs her picture

warnings; none

note; not requested

note2; I saw someone say they wanted this, I wanted this, everyone wanted this. I kind of rushed this, but I thought it was still cute

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Logan Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Y/n hopped out of the bed of the room in the resort she had rented for the trip. She had finally saved up enough money to go to Bali and wanted to make it worth all of the time she had spent at her terrible 9 to 5-job. She'd be staying for a month and so far, for the two days she’d been there, she's been doing nothing but sleeping. After doing so much work for more than a year, she was too tired to actually go out and do anything for the first two days.

Y/n didn't know much of what there was to do in Bali, but she knew that by the end of the day, she wanted to visit the Leke Leke waterfall. She had heard from a friend of hers who had visited Bali that the Leke Leke waterfall was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen and that Y/n absolutely had to visit if she ever went herself. And now she was here, she didn't know what to do.

"Shit, I woke up so late." Y/n groaned, picking up her phone and grimacing at how late she had slept in. Even if she had known what she was going to do, she wouldn't be able to do much of it because she had woken up so late in the day. It was around lunch time or a bit after what was considered lunch time. "I guess I should just go to the waterfall." Y/n mumbled, grabbing a tot bag out of her suitcase and packing up some bug spray, sunscreen, her camera, and a towel. Before grabbing her bathing suit, putting it on, and putting on shorts and a t-shirt on over the bathing suit.

Y/n quickly got into the rented car and drove off with guiding off her GPS because she had the same sense of direction as a blind dog.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You have arrived at your destination on the right.” The GPS said. Y/n parked and got out of the car, taking a deep breath and smiling as she felt some of the tension she was still carrying from the long plane ride to Bali, exit her body, leaving only the feelings of bliss and tranquility. “This is going to be a fun day.” Y/n muttered excitedly as she pulled her camera out of her bag and pointed it towards the waterfall and its lush forest.

Click!

Y/n didn’t see or realize there was another person there, too transfixed on the ethereal beauty of nature that was in front of her. It was no wonder Leke Leke was a huge tourist attraction, it made the most perfect candidate for taking photos and it was perfect to put on Instagram. Y/n looked at her photos with a smile that began to fade.

Now who the fuck was that guy?

Logan sighed. This is really what he needed after such a shit weekend. He knew that it was a decision that was made with the team's best interest in mind, but it didn't do anything but shatter his confidence that he had worked so hard during the winter break to build up. Logan was well aware that his rookie season was absolute shit, which is why he worked so hard during the break. He wanted to prove to himself, the team, his fans, and his haters that he could do it. That he could be better than what he did during his rookie season, but the start of this season proved to be nothing but stress and a mess. 

They both had to stop during their first race due to car problems, the next two races had no issues that Logan could think of, and then Alex wrecks his chassis, so Logan is forced to give up his own. The Florida resident shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. He came here to relax, not to stress himself out more. He needed to stop thinking about what could've been if James actually trusted him enough to drive. He knew that they most likely wouldn't be getting points, but at least Logan would have more experience under his belt.

Didn't James say he didn't even really care about 2024 and 2025? Didn't he say he was focused on the new changes coming 2026 or something? SO why did the man feel the need to bench him if he didn't care so much. "That's enough, Logan." The blonde muttered, lightly slapping his cheeks, "You're here for a break. Not to destroy yourself anymore than you already have." He huffed and looked up at the waterfall.

Oh, what he would give to be like the Leke Leke waterfall. Untouched, unjudged, and unburdened by anyone or anything. Living in perfect harmony with the plants and animals that it shares a habitat with. He wishes it could be like this in F1. There was no drama, everyone got along, and the sport was made fun again like it was when he watched it on television when he was younger. But, alas, humans are flawed creatures that seem to bring destruction and ruin wherever they go. 

It was a high-intensity sport, yes, but there was so much unnecessary drama and hatred that came with the new grid and the new wave of fans. Why couldn't friendly rivalries be made where the drivers obviously aren't friends, but the fans don't fight like they hate each other(Lewis and Max fans. They seem to go to war for no reason when the drivers are at best civil with each other).

Logan shook his head again as he caught himself thinking about his job again, but this time about the hate he gets being an American in a European sport. "Now is not the time to think about this. I'll go get something to eat and come back later." Logan muttered, turning around and walking back up the little pathway that was worm by so many people trampling down the small hill to play in the pool.

He didn't realize another person was there until he heard a 'tsk' followed by, "Who the fuck is this guy? He ruined my photo."

Logan looked up and his breath caught in his throat when his eyes met the gorgeous (e/c) of a woman so beautiful, he swears she could've been a deity, "H-hey, did I, uh, did I ruin your photo?" Logan asked awkwardly as the sharp eyes of the woman before him practically bore into his soul and stripped away his layers one-by-one. 

"You did, but it's alright."

God, even her voice was heavenly. It felt like listening to a chill lofi beat with rain sound in the background. Beautiful and calming. It made him want to listen to it more as it was such a drastic change from the voices he hears everyday.

And by that, he meant the people who surround him. Not that he hears voices.

"Um, I'm sorry. If you would like, I can take a couple pictures for you." Logan offered hesitantly while the woman continued studying him, "There's something bothering you, isn't there? You look stressed." The woman observed, "Do I?" Logan awkwardly laughed as he straightened his clothing. "You do. What's your name? I'm Y/n." The girl introduced, bending down to offer him her hand.

Logan stared at her with wide eyes, unsure what to do. It seemed like she had no idea who he was and he was glad for that. It shouldn't have surprised him the way it did either. Despite having a huge fan base, Formula One isn't as well known as it should be. It really wasn't until DTS that any Americans knew what it was and they started gaining more traction as some people started watching because of how handsome all of the drivers were and stayed because they fell in love with the sport(I know I did) and there was nothing wrong with that.

Logan was brought back to reality by the woman shaking her hand in place as if telling im that she was waiting, "Are you going to shake my hand or are you going to continue staring at me with those big beautiful eyes of yours?" She asked

Y/n felt like diving off a cliff. She didn't know where she mustered up the courage to say such a thing and now she was embarrassed by the way the man was staring at her, "Shit, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean it. I mean, I didn't mean it, but I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Your eyes are very beautiful, just like your face. I didn't mean-- I'm just going to stop talking now." Y/n rambled, face heating up as she felt herself digging a bigger and bigger hole.

Y/n looked down in embarrassment, too scared to look up and see the possible look of disgust that the man would wear, but she was pleasantly surprised to hear the cutest laugh she had ever heard from a guy and a hand slide into her own gripping it enough to reassure her, but not squeezing it.

"Thank you so much. If it makes anything better, I think you're absolutely breathtaking as well." The man said. Y/n looked up with wide eyes.

Breathtaking. He thought she was breathtaking

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she looked into his eyes. Y/n smiled bashfully and pulled him so he was standing next to her, "Come get some lunch with me. My treat." She offered. "Oh, no thank you. I couldn't--" "You're not. I'm offering, pretty boy." Y/n intterupted, "Logan." The man said, "What?" Y/n asked, "My name. Is Logan." The man, Logan reiterated.

"Well, it's absolutely lovely to meet you, Logan. Did you drive to get here?" Y/n questioned, leading him out of the forest by his hand, "I, uh, no. I walked here, um." Logan stuttered, easily keeping up with her strides. "Well, you can ride back with me. I know this is adrupt and weird for a first meeting, but I want to get to know you better." Y/n said, looking back at him with a smile that had his heart fluttering, "You do?" Logan asked.

"Of course, I do."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The duo found themselves sitting acros from each other in a resturant called Cafe Tahu after a short and silent car ride, "So, Logan, what's on your mind? What's got you looking so down while in one of the most beautiful nature spots in the world?" Y/n asked, tilting her head and resting it on her intertwined fingers.

Logan didn't want to burden her with his problems, but the way she was looking at him made him want to talk to her, “My job is to… drive cars and last weekend, my teammate crashed his car, putting it out of commission for the weekend. Um, usually if you crash, you're out, but…” Logan trailed off, clenching his fist.

Y/n slid her hand across the table and grabbed his clenched one until Logan had untensed his hand enough for her to intertwine their fingers, “Judging by your reaction, that’s not what happened?” Y/n asked. Logan shook his head, “No. It's not. They decided to give my teammate MY car. It's like they were rewarding him for his fuck up, but I'm not upset with him.” Logan let out.

“Well, I'm assuming it wasn’t his decision. You know what? I'm proud of you.” Y/n said, Logan looked at her in confusion, “For what?” He questioned. “For not losing your cool. For not blaming your teammate for the decision. For being so mature about it even though you could have gone ape shit. I have to say that I respect that.” Y/n said, removing her hand from his and instead holding his arm while using her other hand to prop her head up.

Logan looked deep into her eyes and nodded, “Do you want to…I don't know, have dinner with me tonight?” Logan asked breathily. Y/n tittered, “I don’t think first meetings are supposed to move this quickly, but at the same time, I've never had so much chemistry with someone I just met.” Y/n hummed, playing with Logan’s watch. “Yeah,” Logan muttered, distracted by her nimble fingers toying with his watch.

“Sure. Why not? Let's get dinner together.”

“Great. Can I have your number?” Logan asked, beaming while holding out his phone for her to take. She put in her number and handed it back, “After we finish our drinks, what do you say we go back to Leke Leke and take some better photos?” Y/n inquired.

“I’d like that.”

[irisintheafterglow]

way hay, and up she rises! (opla!zoro x you)

summary: zoro leads the crew to an informant from his bounty-hunting days; they don't know his history with the pretty singer in the bar.

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: swearing, implied fem!reader (wearing a skirt and makeup) but they/them pronouns used, basically singer/bodyguard trope, strangers to lovers, brief guy being an asshole (and protective zoro!), simp zoro, i love zoro, can you tell how much i love this man

note: do i imagine lucy gray baird when i think about reader singing in a bar? maybe a little bit. do i wish i could sing like rachel zegler as lucy gray baird? abso-fucking-lutely. i've been listening to a lot of random sea shanties lately so this is where that came from. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are much appreciated!

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of all the times for you to doubt me, cook,” he says, catching the door with the toe of his boot and kicking it open, “I can say for certain, I have this under control.” His feet step through the doorway and he’s bombarded with jolly laughter, drunken singing, and a dancing fiddle. The patrons cheer with flasks and goblets in their hands, liquor splashing onto their neighbors when they slam their cups onto wooden tables. It’s warm like a hearth, not a hell, and the unkempt atmosphere wraps around him like a familiar blanket. Within seconds, he’s not a pirate anymore; he’s back to being a hunter. 

And there, swinging the edge of your skirt with a tambourine in hand, was you. The lantern light catches in your eyes in a way that makes them glow, enchanting him like a spell. You’re just as breathtaking as the last time he saw you, singing clearer than the stars shining on a winter night. When you speak, it’s like invisible ropes extend from your lithe fingers, grabbing each man by the ears and pulling them in to listen further. He’s no different, finding himself drifting toward your stage when a sudden hand tugs him away. 

“Hey, we’re going this way. Luffy found a table in the back,” Nami informs him over the controlled chaos of the bar. Her voice quiets as he follows her to a secluded corner, but her teasing was not lost to him. 

“Pretty interesting place you’ve led us to.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he replies blandly, still slightly awestruck from seeing you again.

“Got a crush on the singer?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deadpans, sliding into the booth next to his beaming captain. He gladly accepts the bottle Usopp offers him, taking a swig without so much of a flinch when it burns down his throat and goes straight to his head. 

“What were you guys talking about?” Luffy pipes up and he doesn’t hide his grimace in time. “Did Nami say something to bother you, Zoro?” 

“Doesn’t she always?” An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of the swordsman’s stomach, one he could only explain by not having eyes on you. He was used to being here alone, where he could admire you without distraction. He knew he wasn’t ready for the crew’s interrogation about his history with you. “I just need something to drink.” 

“You’re already holding a bottle, if you’ve forgotten already,” Sanji reminds him. “Don’t make us drag your sorry ass out of another bar.” If looks could kill, Zoro couldn’t fathom the number of coffins the stupid cook would need. 

“Alright, alright,” Luffy interjects. “Zoro’s just been…stressed. We all deal with stress in our own ways.” 

“There are healthier ways to deal with stress than alcoholism,” Nami points out. “For instance, talking it out works wonders.”

“While I appreciate the concern, we’re here for information, not therapy,” Zoro states tersely, taking another gulp from his bottle. “We came a little early, so we’ll have to wait until the band is done with their set before we move in on the target.” His eyes drift back into your general direction, hoping there weren’t any guys giving you trouble. 

“Why can’t we just move in now? There’s enough chaos in the bar to be a distraction,” Luffy asks.

“Sanji and I could start a fight,” Usopp offers in response, holding up the cook’s wrist like he was ready for the first punch. “That worked last time.” Zoro shakes his head. 

“Too risky. The informant won’t say anything if we interrupt the music, especially if it’s a bar fight,” he replies, a fond look blinking across his face. “They’re a little…difficult, sometimes.” The pieces click together in Nami’s brain before he can stop her and the realization dawns on her in no time.  

“Your contact is the singer.” He shrugs one shoulder, not looking any of his crew in the eye and instead watching the growing crowd around your stage. “The singer you have a crush on?” Zoro’s head snaps back to reality and becomes all too aware of the heat growing on his cheeks. 

“I don’t have a crush on them,” he mumbles half-heartedly. 

“Aw, Zoro is in love!” Usopp sighs. “I always knew he had a heart.” 

“It’s not love. It’s just admiration, if anything,” he counters, but it’s no use. His crewmates were already on a roll. 

“I thought you said you had this under control,” Sanji recalls with a taunting smirk. 

“I do have this under control.”

“Your red complexion says otherwise,” the cook replies and Zoro’s frown deepens. It wasn’t part of his plan for the rest of his friends to find out about his relationship with you. In fact, accompanying him to the bar was not part of the plan in the first place. “Look, I’m happy for you. Honestly, I am. If you could do it, then I surely will find someone even better.” 

“That’s enough,” Nami cuts in before Zoro can unsheath a sword. He nods in curt gratitude, but she doesn’t let him off the hook. “However, as payback for not telling us about your little sweetheart, you’re gonna explain how you know them until their set is done.” 

“Says who?”

“Says us,” Usopp answers, holding up Sanji’s fist again and miming the cook punching him in the face. “Or, we’re gonna cause a scene and make them come to us first.” 

“You guys are impossible,” Zoro mutters under his breath. With a deep exhale, he establishes a single rule. “You don’t tell anyone about what I’m about to tell you, understand?” The crew nods. “Good, because if someone finds out about them, I’m gonna shave your heads while you sleep.” 

As with most people Zoro interacted with, you met him because of a fight.

“I didn’t need your help,” you had told him that night, resting your boot on a ribcage for leverage and yanking your sword from the dead assailant’s chest. “So, you can leave now.”

“I thought you said you had this under control,” he remarks, cleaning the blood from his blade and inserting it back into its sheath. 

“I do have this under control,” you reiterate with a glare. “It was just an off night.” 

“Pretty impressive for an off night, though your swordsmanship could improve.” His hand gestures vaguely at the half-dozen attackers lying at your feet, amateurs whose strength depended on their numbers. Numbers, which he'd helped you cut down when you didn’t show up at the meeting spot you’d agreed upon. 

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to insult me or compliment me,” you scoff.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as you keep talking,” he replies without missing a beat, following you through the backdoor of the bar and down a dusty hallway into what he presumed was a makeshift dressing room. “You could make a good career out of bounty hunting if you wanted to.” Closing the door behind him, he settles into a nearby chair and watches you tidy up trinkets on the vanity. 

“I don’t remember letting you come in here, much less telling you to have a seat.” Your guarded nature only intrigues Zoro more, but he’s more than willing to leave if you truly didn’t want him present. Something in his gut told him, though, that you secretly enjoyed the company. “And, no. I’m not interested in the violence of your world, only the information part.” 

“The information part you didn’t show up for,” he recalls with a scowl. You hum in fake sympathy at his displeasure. 

“And my sincerest apologies for getting attacked while on route to our meeting place,” you bite, shaking your head when he rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re here now, so just ask your questions and get out.” Zoro does ask his questions and you give him the answers he needs, but the lingering feeling of disappointment when he bids you farewell stays with him even after he collects the head you helped him find. So, with the reward money sitting heavy in his pocket, he returns to your run-down little bar the following week. 

Without the pressure of fulfilling a hunt weighing on his chest, he catches himself enjoying your performance a little too much. It was mesmerizing, the way you danced across the stage and blew kisses to drunken audience members. Zoro even found himself smiling when he was able to catch your eye. 

“I take it the hunt went well,” you say in greeting when he appears in the doorway of your dressing room. It’s after your band’s last set and you’re visibly more relaxed than the previous time he saw you. Instead of barging into your space, he simply leans a muscled shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed and observing you remove your makeup. 

“It did. Your little tip about the maid worked wonders.” 

“She’ll always turn a blind eye if it means a little extra money.” 

“She also knew the place better than the maps I was reading,” he adds. “I wouldn’t think to talk to her if it weren’t for you.” You dismiss his compliment with a wave of your hand. 

“The Lady of the House’s true right-hand is not her husband, but the one that cleans up after him,” you muse with a satisfied smile. He’s still standing in the doorway, you notice from the corner of your eye. “You can come in if you promise to explain why you’re back again.”

“Consider the promise made, then,” he replies, shutting the door and taking a seat the same way he did the week prior. “I wanted to apologize for getting off on the wrong foot.”

“The Demon of the East Blue apologizing to me? What a world we live in,” you quip and he chuckles. “For the record, I wasn’t mad at you. Well, not entirely.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Yeah, I was mad at you for interrupting the set to ask your questions, but I can’t blame you too much. It’s your first time here, after all.” He listens to your explanation intently, like there was no other voice he’d rather be hearing. “But for future reference, interrupting me while I’m singing will make other clients I serve a little jumpy.”

“They think you’re conspiring against them?”

“Exactly. I try to keep the same after-the-show policy with everyone, so if I give priority to one person, they’ll question my reliability.” He nods, your irritation suddenly making much more sense. 

“And when they question your reliability, they attack you outside the bar,” he concludes. 

“Mhmm, which was why I was late for our meeting. For that, I am sorry.” Your voice is softer than the candlelight illuminating the small room and he finds himself being drawn into you again, like a magnet. An idea pops into his mind, one that was sure to cost him a few hunts, but he’s sure you’re worth it.

“Ever think about hiring stage security?” 

“For a dirty-ass bar like this? Definitely not,” you laugh. “Maybe if I were playing for the general of the Marines, but here? That’s funny.” You thought that would be the end of your conversations with Zoro, but decided not to question his intentions when he showed up the following night. You spied him sitting in the same dark corner with a glass in his hand, watching you like you were the only being that mattered in his world. As the songs pass, your eyes find him on instinct and you’re rewarded with a rare grin that makes your stomach float. No sooner did you start your last set of the night, though, did a new client come storming into the bar. 

He was a Marine defector, one that was trying to make it onto some pirate’s ship before the government found him. In the second drawer of your dressing room vanity, you had a list of ships and ports that would guarantee him a smooth disappearance into the sea. He desperately needed the list and, being a new client, was clueless about your after-show policy. 

“Alright, give me the list. Let’s go,” he hissed once he reached the front of the stage, his words barely audible over the sound of your band. You attempt to smile and play him off as another drunk, but your amiable expression disappears when he tries to grab the edge of your skirt. “I’m not fucking messing around. Give me the fucking list.” As expected, your regular clients started to shift uncomfortably in their seats, looking at you and the greenie suspiciously. In their minds, you were giving special privileges to a new guy. “Stop being a bitch and give me the list.” The man reaches out to grab your skirt again when a strong hand shoves him away from you. 

“Get lost. They’re in the middle of performing.” You steal one glance at the swordsman in front of you, the one resting his hands menacingly on the hilts of his swords. His broad shoulders become a wall in front of you, impossible to pass without risking instant decapitation. The new client scurries away and you release a shaky breath, sending Zoro a grateful look when he’s back at his seat. Please stay, you mouth wordlessly. I’m not going anywhere, he mouths back.

He stays with you during your official meeting with the ex-Marine, arms crossed and stationed in the corner of your dressing room like a guard dog. When the meeting is over and Zoro’s all but thrown the man out of the building, he walks you home and waits until he hears your door lock before leaving. He’s back the next night, and the next, and the next, and all the nights afterward for nearly a year. You start to ask him about his past, his hunts, and his dreams. Little by little, you both start to take down your defenses and trust each other with vulnerability. He’s late, sometimes, when he gets caught in a hunt; but, you always end up finding him waiting for you in your dressing room. 

After he kisses you for the first time, you start inviting him in once he’s walked you home, impatiently locking your door before pulling him to your room. It’s little things that make you fall in love with him: waking up to find him hogging all of your blankets, resting on his bare chest and relishing in the feeling of his skin against yours, running a hand through his hair until he wakes up with a sleepy smile. He falls freely, hopelessly, and completely in love with you, too. 

He knows nothing has changed when you rush into his arms as soon as you see him in your dressing room. 

“Hey, songbird,” he mumbles while his arms lock around your waist. “I burn from missing you.”

“I’ve missed you more.” Your voice sounds muffled against his shoulder as your arms wind tightly around his neck. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pulling you as closely to him as humanly possible. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Zoro felt at ease. “I thought I saw you walk in, but you didn’t go to your usual spot.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I have some…friends with me,” he says slowly, nudging the door open to reveal his crewmates eavesdropping from the hallway. You smirk knowingly, running the pad of your thumb over his cheekbone. “Alright, alright. Just say it–”

“I didn’t know you could make friends,” you tease and he prevents you from saying anything else by pressing his lips against yours. “Wanna introduce me to them?”

“Give me a second, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “I need you to myself for a bit.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[adoregojo]

he doesn't realise how lonely he is.

the birds nagging on the early morning was freaking annoying and made him wanted to block the window ten times more. he hated how his breakfast tasted, he added to much salt and now he keeps grimacing at every bite. the usual black stray cat on his doorstep keeps greeting him every morning, and all he could find to reply to it meowing was a frown. sunny days were nothing but a pain, the bright light hitting his face as if it was forcing him to like it. how vexing.

the difference shape of flowers peeking out from the next door store brings him nothing of a sense of joy, if anything he wanted to stay away from it due to it attracting the bugs. his coworkers never talk to him, not like he wants to talk to him. he never looked them in the eyes anyway.

he can clearly hear them, their whispers -that were too loud for him to hear- about him being likely an old grumpy grandpa in disguise, they even made bets on if he would smile one day. it didn't hurt him, he couldn't gave a good fuck for it, he just wanted this day to end so he could go home and never have to see anyone.

he doesn't take his shoes off when he's in the apartment, it was too much of a hassle and he doesn't get any visitors anyway. there's barely any food in his fridge, mostly leftovers. he just eats to survive another day. watching pointless tv shows that never truly entertained him, in fact he found them boring but as long as they kept him busy he didn't care.

winter was too cold, summer was too hot, autumn was stressful, and spring gets him a sick problems all the time.

he truly doesn't know where to enjoy anything in life.

well, until he met you.

all of a sudden, the birds melody doesn't sound so bad, so he opens the window for some fresh air. he stared to put afford in making breakfast, not his usual too slaty eggs it is now a fluffy pancakes with your guidance as you embraced him from behind. they weren't perfect, but the pleased noises you make after every bite made him proud. of course he doesn't forget to feed your cat, the same black cat that he claimed it was nothing but a bad luck.

he didn't realise of how much of a neighbours he had till he started coping how you greeted them, it was nice when they started sending you guys food. especially when you liked them and sometimes they'll send his favourite.

sunny days were welcomed now. especially when the bright light would hit on your skin causing a reflection that's making you a walking glowing star. maybe he liked the sun a bit now.

he made progress on talking back to him coworkers, instead of the silent treatment he actually looked at them knowledge them. he actually started looking at them when they speak to him because you told him it was rude not to. soon he was invited to lunch with them where he would show off his bento box you made for him, he was glad the whispers disappeared. he didn't get how much it bothered him till now.

the owner of the flower shop who was an old lady was now a common person he had to see every week, she remarked he was her most loyal client. he received a tones of advice and recommended flowers as well pinching his cheek as a farewell message. needless to say he always tried coming home -he stopped calling it an apartment- to you without an empty hand, having your favourite pair of flowers was a must now. as well taking off his shoes and putting it directly next to yours, this was it right place.

rethinking it now, winter may be still cold but at least he got the scarf you got for him warped up to his neck, if he buried his nose in the soft fur he could smell your cologne -a reason why it was his favourite one- summer was perfect for you two picnic dates, and every time he could kneel down and thank the sun for making you so blazing and sparkly.

autumn was where you would count the crunchy golden leaves, you sometimes warped yourself around it as if it was snow. it was his favourite memory since it made his heart beating fast. and in the end you were his spring, where his love would bloom for you again and again.

restaurants weren't a waste of money and time now. he has a prefers show and it was the one that made you laugh until the tears formed in your eyes, he honestly doesn't find them as funny but it makes you smile so he didn't care.

life stopped being meaningless afterwards, and he could finally say that he enjoyed living as long as it was beside you.

nagi, rin, sae, toji, choso, ushijima, kenma, diluc. kei, sakusa. you favs!

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXIII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note:  Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoy this next chapter and where the story is going :)

thank you @elidelochans for always being my beta <3

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

When two days passed, Eris gathered with his brothers and mother in her garden. For this conversation, Iris stood by his side. He had carefully shielded their scents and if his brothers noticed, they didn’t comment. 

He may trust them but as he shared a glance with his wife, Eris couldn’t help but want to keep this…gift to himself a little longer. If they made it through this, Eris would let himself reflect on how the Mother had a strange sense of humor; to give him Iris with the possibility of losing her. 

Then again, the Mother knew this would be a hard fight. Sending his mate only gave him more reason to insist on making it out. 

“You don’t think it’s too dangerous to be gathered like this in one place?” Lady Enya asked in the silence, her hands wringing in her lap. 

“I glamored us as we arrived,” Eris assured her. “No one saw us coming in.” 

But his mother was more nervous than usual, which added to his stress. Eris could tell she was tired and it made him want to choke his father more viciously than usual; that fucker knew his wife hated his guts and yet he kept his paws all over her. 

Forcing the thought from his mind, his expression tight, he addressed his mother with a nod. “Are you prepared?” he asked. “Do you have everything you need?”

Lady Enya nodded, her hands clenching in her gown. “Yes,” she answered, clearing her throat. “I don’t wish to take anything with me but the clothes on my back. I have nothing of value that I shared with him.” 

The words made him grimace. He knew his mother hadn’t meant her words to be about her sons but it didn’t stop the sting of knowing how she had held herself back. It didn’t hurt any less that she had endured all this because of them. For them. 

The brothers shared a frown.

“I’ve checked with every one of my sources and nothing seems to be amiss,” Emil said, his arms crossed. “My soldiers are ready.”

Izak, seated next to their mother, nodded. “The same with mine. Everything is going according to plan.” 

“What about Lucien?” Finn asked. 

“I’ve been in touch. Everything is fine on his end.” Eris confirmed. “Winter and Dawn have given us passage to winnow from the court lines.”

“No questions asked?” Iris inquired carefully. 

“Lucien has enough connections that no one bats an eye when he mentions he’s passing through with people,” he explained. “Especially when Helion and Rhys are welcoming. There’s no reason to object when there won’t be lingering.”

“Does Rhys know?” Lady Enya asked quietly. 

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw. “Rhys has always known this day would come but he doesn’t ask questions. He knows it’s near.” 

Finn shifted on his feet. “We’ve checked and triple-checked everything. Things are going according to plan and yet…why does it feel like something isn’t right?”

“Because we’re a bunch of paranoid motherfuckers.” Izak said then glanced at his mother. “Apologies, mother.”

The corner of Iris’s lips twitched as her mother-in-law rolled her eyes at her son and she couldn’t help but let her gaze shift between the brothers and their mother, feeling slightly out of place. This was her first time meeting Emil and Izak personally and other than an awkward greeting, they kept their distance; the tension lining Eris’s back and the way he watched his brothers with every breath they took near her had Iris do the same. Given what Eris had shared with her about each of them, Iris couldn’t help but have a soft spot for the brothers who were all trying to find the light with love as they battled their own demons. It didn’t change how close Eris had her stand and if anything, his brothers understood his possessiveness too well, even if they didn’t know to what extent.

The last two nights seemed to escalate his levels of stress and Iris had watched him have to expel his anger, nearly setting their whole suite aflame to get himself through the day. He’d leave her early and return late, checking in with her periodically throughout the day and whenever he did, they would end up releasing his stress in a much more intimate way. Iris had found that whenever his body was draped over hers, was the only time he actually relaxed. 

Even in his sleep, her husband struggled and she found herself awake more often, watching him as he shuddered through every breath. 

Iris kept her eyes on Eris as he ran his tongue over his teeth, sharing a look with Emil. “We did find one idiot who was ready to sell out,” he said carefully. “He was hoping to get in with the High Lord and rise through the rankings.” 

“And what happened to him?” Finn asked, his tone casual.

“By the time Eris and I got to him, our sentries had let him know exactly how they felt about ruining our chances,” Emil said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “We aren’t the only ones desperate for change.”

“I would’ve cut out his tongue.” Izak huffed.

“Emil did,” Eris said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Then we hung him in the center of the training ring with a knife lodged in his throat.”

“That seems unnecessary.” Lady Enya muttered mildly.

But Finn nodded at them. “Nice.”

“You have a very odd definition of nice.” Iris said with a raised brow and Finn’s answering grin was a little too sinister. 

“I would’ve carved out his internal organs to hang him by and then pinned his body to the wall with knives so he could bleed to death, slowly and painfully. What they did was nice.” he said and Iris couldn’t help her grimace.

“Please –” their mother started and glanced at Eris who sighed.

“Let’s focus,” he waved a hand. “We have another week before this hell is over. Keep straightening things out. If you hear even a whisper of something, you let me know immediately.” Eris glanced back at his mother. “We wait for the signal that Helene, Theo, and Cosette are fine. We dance. We mingle. Once Father gives his bore of a speech like every year, Emil will be walking you to where you will meet Mikel and then to where you will meet Iris and Oren. From there, you two will pretend to walk towards your gardens until you cross the gates. Serphan will winnow you to Lucien and then report back to me. Helion will also be waiting.”

Lady Enya swallowed, a hand rubbing her throat. “And they – Lucien knows what to do in case something goes wrong?”

Eris nodded then gave them all a pointed look. “Rumor has it that our youngest brother was invited and he may be making an appearance,” he said. “Should he need to use it, he knows the code. Each of our sentries has a uniform color. Lucien knows my insignia and who he can ask if needed.” 

A silence fell on the group and Iris’s gaze couldn’t help but flicker between them all. She couldn’t imagine how long they’d been waiting for this and how these last few days were causing more agony than anything else. 

Lady Enya broke the silence first, rubbing a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m – I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to be causing all this.” 

A collective noise of disapproval rang from the brothers and she looked at them with a watery smile. 

“But I am. I always will be,” she added, her grip tightening in the folds of her dress. “If I could stay and help avoid all this, I would but I  — I can’t anymore.”

“Mother.” Finn chasted her gently and his expression tightened when Izak wrapped his burly arm around their mother’s delicate frame and kissed the top of her head. 

“Don’t apologize,” Izak said. “We can’t keep living this way regardless.”

“Enough is enough,” Emil added solemnly. “We are more than what he’s forced us to be.” 

Eris met his mother’s gaze. “You are a phoenix ready to rise from the ashes, remember?” he asked quietly. “Don’t look back now.” 

Lady Enya glanced at each of her sons and then took a shaky breath. “You are all the light of my life. I am proud of each of you and know you will always be more than he could ever dream. Better than he could ever dare to be.” she said softly. “I love you.” 

And Iris had to look away from them as each of the brothers, including her husband, flushed lightly at their mother’s words. But she could feel their content, felt how it filled them with joy and Iris felt an ache in her chest. She hadn’t met her own mother but Lady Enya had easily and so quickly filled that role. This wasn’t her moment and yet Iris felt so honored to be a part of it.

Clearing his throat, Izak gruffly mumbled, “We love you too.”  

Lady Enya chuckled and patted Izak’s cheek. “I know, my beautiful boy,” she said, then sighed quietly, straightening. “Do not underestimate him. He will not respond well and I know he has something up his sleeve.” 

“The bridal party waiting for us isn’t for nothing,” Emil mused. “He’s invited every influential family in the court and somehow, they all have eligible daughters.” 

“We dance and we mingle,” Eris repeated his instructions firmly. “Lying is a form of art we’ve excelled at for years. It won’t kill you to dance with a potential bride to keep up the ruse.” 

“Yeah, but Helene might kill me.” Izak mumbled and Finn snorted as Iris’s lips twitched. 

“Considering Father might kill you first should you not dance, you’ll have to risk it,” Eris said dryly. “He’s surrounding himself with people like him for a reason. He believes in the strength of numbers and has purposely kept some of the guest list names from mother.”

“I think it’s a mighty coincidence that this particular ball is the one he’s having potential brides from powerful families attend,” Emil said. “If the High Lord is promising your daughter a prince, you’d be more than happy to side with a tyrant than against him.”

“It might not be to the extent that families have turned,” Finn said. “But it doesn’t help us if he has some of them present.”

Izak shook his head. “Those families have always been in his pocket, they keep each other comfortable. We knew this.”

“Those families are full of nothing but lofty words.” Lady Enya added. “Nothing in the preparations should change but I still don’t think you should trust them.” 

Finn glanced at Eris. “Once we’re done with Father, we get to clean out the garbage, right?”

“Whoever does not bend to the new ruling will be taken out immediately,” Eris said, his expression tightening. “We know who these people are. They have one chance to make the right choice or they won’t live to make another one.” He glanced at each of his brothers. “This is the only shot we have to disinfect this court and make it into something worth living in. This is bigger than just us.” 

“You should anticipate your father being there.” Lady Enya said to Iris. “He was one of the people the High Lord insisted on adding to the guest list and I don’t see Aron declining the invitation.”

Iris grimaced, her fists clenching at her sides. “I have no doubt he’ll be there,” she said then glanced at Eris. “Even if he knows he’s not wanted.” 

“Especially if he knows he’s not wanted,” Eris muttered. “He knows what awaits him should he step one toe out of line.” And he forced himself to roll his shoulders back, pushing back the surge of anger thumping in his chest at the mention of his father-in-law. He glanced at Izak instead and waved a hand for a letter to appear then flicked it to his brother. “Lucien let me know this morning that Helene and her mother have been settling in nicely. She sent you a letter.” 

Izak caught it and held it tightly, nodding at Eris. “Thank you.” 

Eris nodded back and then glanced at Emil. “Cosette?”

“She’s ready to leave.” his brother answered tightly.

“Adler?”

“He knows his orders.” 

Eris nodded again and ran a hand through his hair. “We have to be on guard for anything.”

“I know.” 

Eris shifted as he stared at his family, feeling the blood pumping beneath his skin. “If –”

“Eris.” Emil’s calm tone cut through his. “We’ve done every single thing we could. The only thing we can do is set it in motion and make it through.” 

Taking a breath through his nose, Eris let his head fall back, his eyes on the open air above them. “I won’t pretend I’m not filled with dread and it’s been getting harder to tighten the leash on my powers,” he mumbled then fixed his gaze back on his brothers. “I set fire to one of the stables yesterday because Father made a snippy comment.”

“What a pity he wasn’t standing in it,” Finn said, his lips twitching and Eris snorted. 

“Pity, indeed.” 

Iris’s gaze locked on Eris and his tightened shoulders and she couldn’t help stepping closer to him, her hand sliding to his back as she leaned into him. He glanced at her with a thin smile then cleared his throat, addressing them all. 

“He’s going to make this a hard fight. We fight as dirty as he does.” Eris said firmly. “Whatever it takes.”

It fell silent as his brothers nodded. His mother’s eyes welled up again, and Eris had to look away from her so it didn’t pain him. He glanced at Iris instead, and even though her smile was a small sad one, it managed to loosen a breath from his chest. Whatever it took, he would crawl his way out of this and back to her. 

“Well,” Finn began and Eris let out a long-suffering sigh echoed by Emil and Izak. “He can’t kill all of us, right? One of us has to survive him to continue the Vanserra line.” 

“Finn.” Eris warned as their mother made a noise of distress.

“What? I’m only reassuring you once again, that if the task comes to me, I would be happy to marry all your lovely ladies and take care of them should you all bite the dust at the ball,” Finn said graciously.

“Don’t you have a certain someone in your life?” Iris asked, holding back a laugh and Finn waved a hand good-naturedly.

“He’s very reasonable, you’ll love him,” he reassured Iris as he wiggled his brows at her. “You won’t mind having sister wives, right? As the wife of my oldest brother, you would be my first wedded, of course.”

Before Eris could do more than snarl rather viciously at his brother’s teasing, Iris held a hand to her husband’s chest and raised a brow at Finn. “It’s sweet you think you can handle one wife, much less three,” she said then turned back to Eris. “If you bite the dust as your brother says, I promise I won’t marry him.” She patted his chest gently. “But, you’ll be perfectly safe so there’s nothing to worry about. You don’t need to punch him.” 

Eris scowled then narrowed his eyes at Finn’s smug smile. “I still want to punch him.”

“We can save it for another day. When all this is over.” Iris couldn’t help but glance at the rest of them. “When we’re all safe. You can punch each other all you want then.” 

“Your wife is an optimist,” Emil noted, tilting his head at her curiously. “What a fate to be married to a Vanserra.”  

Iris’s lips twitched then made a show of stepping back to run her gaze down Eris’s body and back up. Eris’s brow lifted as she made a noise of approval. “Well, he is pretty so it balances out all the struggle,” she said and Eris rolled his eyes as she turned back to shrug at his brothers. “It isn’t much, but it’s honest work.” 

Izak’s head tipped back with a laugh as Finn hooted and Emil couldn’t help his chuckle. 

And Eris wanted to devour her when she gave him a cheeky smile that made him roll his eyes again. “Hysterical,” he deadpanned, the tips of his ears heating at his mother’s small smile. 

“I told you she was funny,” Finn said to his brothers. 

“My wife’s jokes and Finn’s enthusiasm to marry females who won’t want him aside –” Eris began, warning Finn with a look when his brother opened his mouth. “We’ve lingered enough, I think. Should anything else come up, be quick and be discreet.” 

The brothers let themselves slowly disperse with Emil vanishing first then Finn. Izak delayed for a moment and approached Iris with a thin smile. Eris’s brow quirked up as his brother ran a hand over his beard, his expression curiously cautious. “I just wanted to say…I think you and Helene would get along well,” he said and glanced at Eris before meeting Iris’s gaze. “It’s not easy being married to a Vanserra but…I think you two could be friends. If – if you wanted.” 

Iris’s smile was warm. “Based on what Eris mentioned to me, I think so too. I look forward to meeting her when I can.” she said then added quietly, “Congratulations on the pregnancy.” 

Izak flushed, pleased as he nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see you again at the ball.” 

As Izak departed and only his mother remained, Eris gave her a moment as she took in her gardens, her expression tight. He knew this place had always been a sanctuary for her and though she’d be leaving it behind for a better place, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. 

“Mother.”

Lady Enya turned towards him. “Yes?”

“If needed…will you be ready to use your magic?” he asked carefully and his mother took a breath, nodding.

“Yes. Whatever I can do, I will support your every step,” she said, her expression shifting into grim determination. “Whatever it takes, Eris.”

He nodded at his mother then shared a glance with his wife and Iris’s smile was tight as Eris promised, “Whatever it takes.” 

-

Eris blinked and as the ball crept closer, he barely slept. He went about his daily routine, spent time with his wife, and plotted through the night. He tried to be more relaxed, tried to stay focused but as everything slowly came together, he couldn’t help but anticipate that something would go wrong. He’d readjusted his plan with Oren, Mikel, and Seprhan twice already; he was driving his friends crazy. 

The feeling intensified when it was finally the night before the ball and his Father summoned him to the throne room. Eris had hesitated for only a moment in front of the door, the memory of the last time he was summoned here lingering in the back of his mind. But he forced himself forward and allowed himself a glance around the room as he walked towards where his father stood, taking in the splendor of decor as he went. His mother always outdid herself with the way she planned for these events. He knew how this particular event was one of significance and didn’t miss the little signs around the room. The abundance of gold. The wisps of fire magic. The miniature phoenix art scattered around the room. His lips couldn’t help but twitch. 

Eris paused a healthy distance from the High Lord who stood with his back to him, facing the throne. As his Father deliberately took his time to acknowledge him, Eris ran his tongue over his teeth and made himself take a deep breath, schooling his expression into that careful calm he desperately needed around his least favorite person. 

After a few moments of silence, Eris clenched his fists behind his back and cleared his throat. “You called, Father.”

Beron glanced over his shoulder and then made a noise of disapproval as he turned to face his son. The two watched each other in silence and though Eris was used to his father’s mind games, something about this summoning felt…sinister.

Beron gestured for Eris to come closer and immediately, his shoulders couldn’t help tensing further.

But Eris moved and stopped at the place Beron had pointed to, right in front of him. “Do you know why I called you here, son?”

“I really hope it’s because you missed me,” Eris said with a thin smile. “Otherwise my feelings will be hurt.” 

Beron snorted. “Funny,” he said and shifted his head slightly as he watched Eris. “I wonder if you get your humor from your wife. I hear she’s very funny.” 

A beat of silence passed and Eris felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest. “Pray tell, who has been passing along her jokes?”

His father’s answering smile made Eris’s fists tighten. “The wind carries all kinds of whispers, son. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

The moment stretched between them and Eris tried to keep the beating of his heart calm as his father watched him. What did that even mean? Who was talking?

The High Lord’s mouth curled and Eris tried to tamper down his agitation as his father added, “Then again, everything about your wife would be a secret if it was up to you.” 

Eris’s expression flattened. “Are we really doing this again, Father?” he said and tried to keep his tone even. “I thought we were past this.” 

“Of course, of course,” Beron said casually. “Though how sensitive you are about her is still concerning, I suppose we have other things to worry about with our big event tomorrow.”

Tension lined Eris’s spine as he watched his father watch him, every sentence loaded with words left unsaid, and Eris’s mind scrambled to catch it all. “Indeed,” he said carefully. “What can I assist you with, Father?”

“Always so eager to assist, son,” Beron said. “Sometimes I forget just how much.”

Eris’s gaze narrowed slightly in confusion. He didn’t want to believe his father was bored and wasting his time like this. Eris could barely keep awake these days; with this last night, he wanted to be alone with his wife. His mate. He wanted that fucken time with her. 

Yet here he was, squandering that time with this.

“Is there anything about the event tomorrow you’d like me to do? I do believe everything has been taken care of.” 

“I didn’t call you here for that.” Beron said and Eris lifted a brow.

“If not that, to what do I owe the pleasure of being here?”

The words seemed to cause a slight shift in his father and Eris noted exactly when his expression went from amused disdain to anger.

“You overstep and I tire of it.”

Eris blinked. “Oh?”

“You are my eldest son. I acknowledge that a certain load of responsibility has been expected of you and even added to your shoulders. You have always done your duty as required and yet…” Beron pursed his lips, his gaze narrowing. “The past few months, you have overstepped so very often.”

Eris forced his expression into polite indifference. “Is there something I did in particular that bothered you deeply enough to summon me?” he asked and his father’s eyes narrowed. “I would like to ensure I apologize profusely for my errors.”

“You and that fucken mouth of yours.” Beron snarled and backhanded Eris so quickly he barely took a breath, his face snapping to the side and Eris nearly swore at the sheer force that went into his father’s hand. 

Oh, the High Lord was pissed to be this triggered by his tone.

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth, slowly facing his father again and he knew there was nothing to be done about the anger that coursed through his body – anger he knew the High Lord felt despite the bland expression Eris managed to push through on his face. “That seemed rather unnecessary.” he managed to say lightly, even though his fisted hands were shaking violently behind his back. “Was it something I said, High Lord?”

And this time when his father lifted his hand in warning, Eris leaned back, his expression flattening again. “I can handle words, Father. You don’t need to put your hands on me to tell me when I’ve supposedly wronged you.” 

His father’s mouth curled in anger and the High Lord stepped into Eris’s personal space even further. “Back away from me again and a flogging pole will be the least of your worries.”

A strained silence pulsed in the air between them and Eris knew he was venturing into dangerous territory when he couldn’t hold in his humorless laugh and his father’s eyes narrowed.

“And get blood all over the floor? That wouldn’t be the kind of welcome you’d want to give our guests.”

Beron yanked Eris by the front of his tunic. “Keep speaking in that sarcastic tone and your body hanging by the gates will be what welcomes the guests instead.” 

Eris felt his fire nearly burst out of him, his anger shooting up his spine but he held that leash on his magic and held it tight because he wouldn’t blow up here. Given the kind of pressure he’d been under the last three weeks, it would be so fucken easy to unleash everything and be done. 

But no. Not now. Not when they were so fucken close. Not when they could wipe the slate clean in front of the whole court and step into a new age with history on their side.

Nevertheless, Eris couldn’t stop the steam from pouring out of him and he certainly couldn’t stop his glare when his Father’s cold smirk appeared. 

“I don’t know if that would match the theme Mother’s going for this year.” Eris said tightly as he tried to reign in his anger even as Beron’s answering chuckle was laced with cruelty.

“You keep speaking to me that way and your mother will have more things to worry about than her tacky theme.” Beron spat then shoved Eris back. “Fix your face and apologize.” 

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw as father and son stared down one another. They had barely started talking and his father was already goading him just to lay hands on him. Had the High Lord sensed anything amiss? What was it that seemed to be putting his father in such a foul mood? 

Eris’s hands remained behind his back, flexing his fingers then fisting them again as he forced himself to bow his head and as calmly as he could choke out said, “Apologies, High Lord.” 

Beron’s head cocked to the side. “An apology should come with a full bow, boy. Do not disrespect me.” 

Eris’s expression blanked immediately and he forced his body not to react negatively, not to tense further. His well of power would not be blown away on this. This was nothing. He’d tolerated more. 

So forcing himself once more, Eris bowed fully to his father and said as dull as possible, “Apologies, High Lord.”

His father said nothing for a moment and Eris took the opportunity to glare at the sparkling floors they stood on. When another minute ticked by in silence, he couldn’t help but lift his head to find his father smirking at him. And that was never good.

Especially when he opened his mouth and said, “Your wife says my High Lord. You should say it the way she does.” 

Eris’s body straightened before he could stop himself, his vision going red and the only thing that managed to hold him back from ripping his father’s throat out was the laugh that slipped out of the High Lord’s mouth, mocking him.

“You’re so easy to rile these days.” Beron taunted. “Which goes to show you how bad of an influence that wife of yours is.” Giving Eris a sly look, his father continued, “Maybe you should pick out a new bride tomorrow.” 

Eris didn’t bother fighting back his eye roll, despite how much his clenched fists were shaking. “This conversation is getting tedious, Father,” he said curtly. “May I please know what it is you wish to discuss with me?”

The High Lord’s expression filled with contempt as he stared down his son, the silence between them was heavy with trepidation. 

“Tedious, you say.”

“Yes. We both know there are about a thousand other things we could be doing instead of this little dance between us.” 

Beron made a disinterested noise. “I had no plans other than to fuck your mother this evening. Though her lack of enthusiasm doesn’t make it as enjoyable as it could be, it is better than nothing.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eris snapped and nothing could stop his fists from catching flame. “Show some respect when you speak about her.” 

And Eris knew his father’s fist would fly out. H​​e let it. He let the taste of blood fill his mouth as he staggered back a step from the blow. His father seemed to be spiraling. He had lashed out at stupid things before but this? To this extent? Eris felt the pit of his stomach give out. Could it be that something had slipped through the cracks?

“I will speak about my wife as I see fit. You do not get to insert yourself between us.” Beron spat and Eris wiped a hand at his mouth with a huff of disbelief. His father’s expression of disdain remained as he took a step closer to his son. “This is your problem. You are always inserting yourself in places you don’t need to be. You do it with your mother. You do it with your brothers. You did it in a meeting the other day with our council while I was in the room.” The High Lord glared and Eris had to fight with all the willpower he had to calm his shaking hands – to smother his flames. “You know why I called you here? To discuss how you intervened between me and your brothers the other day. An intervention I did not welcome.” His father’s gaze raked over his face. “I’ve tolerated your overstepping in the past because you followed orders – you get things done. However, I will not tolerate your overstepping tomorrow, especially in front of the many important guests that will be present. You will remember your place and watch how you behave.” 

The High Lord’s voice was nothing but a lethal threat as he said, “The next time you get between me and your brothers so carelessly like that, you will take the brunt of their discipline.” 

Eris tried to keep his expression from shifting at the promise filled with violence. This whole conversation was bringing all the stress he had been carrying and crashing it down on his head. It seemed that indeed, his command of his brothers had finally seemed to bother his father enough that he was finally saying something about it. What convenient fucken timing. 

Beron’s expression morphed into one of cruel amusement. “Your hair is only just starting to grow out. It’s too early for another new look, don’t you agree?”

And the warning was clear – a reminder of what the High Lord would be happy to do again in this very room. 

Eris pursed his lips, his heart thundering in his chest at his father’s gaze filled with violence as clear as the tone he used. He nearly choked as his magic surged up again, desperately wanting to answer it but instead, Eris forced himself to breathe slowly, the leash on his magic held tight as he said carefully, “I merely wished to help, Father. I didn’t realize it would bother this much.”

“I do not require your help to make your brothers fall in line. You should be falling in line with them.” the High Lord snapped. “Your help has become an insult.”

Eris’s jaw worked and again, he forced himself to bow his head graciously even though he wanted to do anything but – his father had already laid his hands on him twice; he couldn’t afford to keep giving him reasons to lash out. So Eris only said, “Duly noted.”

Silence stretched between them and Eris waited, knowing a threat was coming up. His father liked to play games and loved to waste his time. Minutes ticked away and Eris couldn’t help the flare of his nostrils when his father’s mouth curled up.

“Eris.”

“Father.”

“Tomorrow is a very big day,” Beron said slowly and took a step closer to him. “I’d hate for things to go wrong should any of you decide to do something foolish.” 

A chill skittered down his spine but Eris’s expression remained politely bored. The comment didn’t have to mean anything. His father didn’t know anything. The High Lord was only lashing out because Eris hadn’t said the right things to him, because he wasn’t being as careful as he could be. He would blame it on the stress and would not let himself believe anything else.

“Other than drinking excessively,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, “I don’t foresee any trouble.”

Beron hummed, watching Eris in a way that always made his skin crawl. “Your father-in-law will be in attendance. I expect you and your wife to behave accordingly.”

Annoyance flashed on Eris’s face before he could stop it. “I am aware. He’ll do well to steer clear of us completely, Father. That is my only request to you.”

“And if I refused?”

Eris forced his expression to blank pleasantness again, noting the movement of his father’s hands. “Then I cannot promise there won’t be trouble should his path cross ours.” 

“Is that a threat, son?”

“Never, Father,” he said with a small smile. “I am merely setting expectations.”  

Beron’s eyes narrowed and it was a deadly type of silence between them, the type of silence that Eris knew, had his father not needed him to be presentable tomorrow, Eris’s face would’ve met his fire rather than his fist. “You were my favorite son.” his father said quietly. “I do not like who you’ve become.” 

Eris could only slowly shrug his shoulders. “I’m sorry to be of constant disappointment, Father,” he replied and wished he could tell his father exactly how sorry he was – how much being the so-called favorite had cost him. 

Beron scowled and grabbed Eris’s face with a hand, tugging him closer. “Do not think I haven’t noticed how abysmal your attitude has been lately but I will warn you one last time,” his father said quietly, enough violence in his tone that Eris knew not to move. “Should you do anything that isn’t a direct order from me – anything that isn’t what I expect of you, I will make you pay in ways that’ll be worse than your nightmares.” Beron shoved him back and Eris couldn’t help his expression darkening at his father’s glare. “All this family has ever been is disappointing. Let’s hope you and your useless brothers don’t make matters worse for yourselves tomorrow.” 

The High Lord shoved past Eris but paused half a step away and Eris turned his head without a word, only raising a brow at the loaded silence between them. 

But then his father’s nostrils flared and Eris felt his blood run cold. He didn’t dare breathe and mentally checked his shields, knowing he had reinforced it around his scent before he came anywhere near his father, and yet…what exactly was the High Lord sensing?

His father merely gave him a once over then spat, “I’ll see you and your wife tomorrow. I hope you remember to make good choices.” 

And the High Lord’s goodbye felt like a promise full of death. Eris waited a few moments in tense silence, his blood thumping in his ears and when he was sure he was indeed alone, he closed his eyes to let out a deep shaky breath, feeling steam rise from his hands. His anxiety had returned in full force at his father’s departure. His father couldn’t have sensed anything, could he? Eris had glamoured his scent well; no one could note his mating bond, especially without Iris near him. If his father had scented his wife on him, that wouldn’t be unusual but Eris was too careful even for that. 

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and let himself linger for another moment, eyes flickering around the room, letting himself see it as it was for the last time. With a sigh, he turned on his heels and left the throne room. 

He needed to warn his brothers. 

–

Iris watched as Eris finally stepped into their suite and slammed the door behind him. He had taken longer than she had anticipated and the anxiety that had been squeezing around her chest immediately loosened when she saw that he was whole and unharmed. Her heart had stopped when Eris had told her about the High Lord’s meeting and the only reason Iris had survived waiting was because she distracted herself on the piano. 

Everything was supposed to be set. Everything was in place and yet, the tension that seeped into the room with him made her nervous. She hated that what could be their final night together was filled with such emotions. 

She rose from her place on the piano and walked over to him then stopped in her tracks, noting the slight bruise on his cheek, the cut on his lip. “What happened.” 

Her voice was more hushed than intended but if not for that, Iris knew she would start to panic. She moved closer until she stood before him and let her healing senses reach out, not wanting to touch him just yet – not until she was sure he wanted her touch at this moment. But she sensed nothing amiss aside from the evidence on his face and had to swallow when she met his blank stare. “What was this about?” she asked softly.

Eris had to calmly count to ten and let out a long breath before he could speak, “I seemed to have gotten under the High Lord’s skin when I supposedly overstepped and intervened between him and my brothers the other day.” he explained and Iris watched with a grimace as his fists tightened at his sides. “He wanted to remind me of my place and to watch my tone because apparently, my sarcasm doesn’t translate well.” 

“So he finally noticed and said something about it?”

“Funny how he’s always benefited from me doing all his work for him and now has the nerve to get annoyed by it,” Eris grumbled then shook his head. “He wanted to warn us – me to behave tomorrow.” 

Iris felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Warn how?” 

“He wanted to make sure I didn’t intervene in my brother’s whore parade so they could pick wives.” 

Iris brows furrowed. “Given that they’re all in committed relationships, I don’t think it’s going to go the way he wants.”

“Hopefully, by the end of the night tomorrow, he’ll be dead and we won’t have to worry about him at all,” Eris spat and rolled his head back, breathing deeply and Iris felt his frustration seep off him.

She frowned and stopped in front of him, assessing his expression then reached out a hand to gently touch him. She waited a heartbeat, giving him the chance to push her hand away if he wanted to but Eris couldn’t seem to help but shudder at the touch, and after a moment’s hesitation, he turned his face to kiss her hand softly. “You’re almost there. Tomorrow, you all will be free of him. You’ve prepared as best as you can.” she said softly, letting her magic wipe away his hurt.

“I know and yet, I don’t feel prepared at all,” he said quietly and Iris had never seen his eyes so tired. “I feel like it’s going to all go to hell and I’m going to drag you all down with me.” 

Iris cupped his face and forced him to meet her gaze. “Everyone is ready to go down swinging with you, Eris. This is not on your shoulders alone,” she said. “Please…unburden yourself.” 

He shook his head slowly and pulled her hands from his face to hold in his own. “My head isn’t wired to do that,” he said. “I’m thinking about all of the things that could go wrong.”

“But what about all the things that could go right?” Iris asked, squeezing his hands.

Eris’s chuckle was weak. “How I ended up with an optimistic wife really is a comical event. You truly did marry into the wrong family.” 

The corner of Iris’s mouth lifted. “Fate does work in mysterious ways.” 

“Indeed,” he agreed, then took a step back, his expression shifting. “Do you have all your items prepared for tomorrow? Aside from the bag we sent ahead to Lucien and Elain’s.”

She tried not to let her face fall and nodded. “I have a small satchel and daggers to hide beneath my dress.”

“You know where you’ll be meeting Oren?”

“Yes.”

“And the drop-off location where you’ll winnow to reach Lucien?” 

“Yes, Eris,” she said wearily. “We went over all this in the morning.”

“And we shall review it again tomorrow. I cannot take any risks when it comes to you.” he said and Iris gave him a knowing look.

“I know,” she said quietly. “Do you want to try and get some sleep? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Eris shook his head, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. I’m too tense. Too nervous.” he said and licked his lips, glancing at her in a way that made her pause.

She waited a heartbeat then asked, “...Is there something else?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his expression tight but with a sigh, Eris explained quietly, “When he was walking away from me, he paused a step away and…seemed to sense something in the air next to me.” 

Iris froze in his arms. “And you think that means…he knows something?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Why else would he do that? You mentioned in the stables he seemed to sense something around you. What if he sensed something from me? What if he knows?”

“Eris –”

“Iris, I can’t – how can I —” he growled and his grip on her tightened. “If he knows and pulls some shit tomorrow that would harm you in any way I —”

“Eris.” Her tone was firm enough that it made him pause, his expression stricken in a way that made her chest ache for him. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“How can you –”

“And what if he does? What does it matter?” Iris asked. “Tomorrow, things will change regardless. What does it matter if he finds out about our bond now?”

Eris’s expression fell and his whisper was hoarse, “Because this is the one thing – you are the one thing that is all mine. I don’t want his mark on it.” 

Iris felt her heart crack, the same way it always did when she thought of the way he’d lived his life constantly on edge, constantly thinking and planning and scheming. She didn’t want this particular night together to be this way. He needed some peace and Iris needed him just as badly as he needed peace.

“It doesn’t matter what or if he does anything,” she said quietly but not weakly. “I am yours and you are mine and whatever tomorrow brings, we will face it. He doesn’t get to win.” 

Eris struggled not to tremble at her determined gaze. That he had someone to worry about was one thing but to have someone — her — worry about him like this? He could truly never bring her peace and yet – she looked at him like this. Like she lov— loved him. 

As he loved her.

“What do you need?” Iris found herself whispering, reaching out a hand to gently touch his face again and a thrill always did go through her at how many times she could make him shudder with her touches. Iris waited, watching as he worked his jaw, swallowing before his eyes met hers. Without saying anything, she could feel his every emotion and concern. The thread at her ribcage was a path to his every thought and she gently tugged at it as for once, her husband let his emotions flicker across his face. The panic, the worry, the desperation, and Iris would do anything to bring him ease. 

After an eternity, his response was a broken rasp, “You. I only need you.”

Iris softened and stepped closer, Eris's arm immediately wrapping around her waist to pull her into him. “You have me,” she said softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I am here, with you. I am yours.”

He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly, without saying a word, the look they shared conveyed exactly what he needed – wanted, and always craved. He needed her in every way. He needed to only see her tonight. To only feel her. 

Her eyes didn’t waver from his as she slowly slid a hand down his chest. She knew exactly what he needed to be able to get through this night and Iris wanted nothing more than for them to feed into their feelings. Her hand continued down, past the waistband of his trousers until her hand wrapped around his impressive length and Eris hissed as she squeezed him, slowly pumping. His arm tightened around her, tension lining every inch of him even as their mouths were a breath apart.

“Tell me what you need,” she whispered but Eris couldn’t do anything but watch the blush across her cheeks, trying not to have his eyes roll back as she tightened her grip. His breath stuttered as she leaned in closer to him, pumping him leisurely as she spoke, “Do you want me on my knees? Should I take you in my mouth?” Eris groaned and closed his eyes, leaning into her slightly when Iris quickened her pace and then slowed down. “Tell me what I can do to make you feel good.”

“I want you everywhere.” he rasped and opened his eyes, his gaze filled with a desperate kind of heat that Iris felt seep into her bones. “Anything you want. Everything you’re willing to give me. I want this night to be just about you and me. For nothing else to matter.”

“Then nothing else has to matter right now,” she said softly. “It’s always just you and me.”

Eris licked his lips, his request for permission written all over his face, and every desperate thought and emotion he had spilled into his next word, “Please.” 

All it took was a nod from his wife and any restraint Eris had snapped. His kiss was as desperate as he felt, chasing her lips and Iris whimpered into his mouth, her hands digging into his back, quickly backing her into the table of their dining room.

“I — I can’t be gentle right now.” He said urgently in between his kisses, his hands moving as quickly as hers, both trying to undress the other. “If you don’t want that — please tell me now I don’t want to —“

But she held up her hand and Eris froze immediately, breathing heavily with her barricaded between his arms. Tonight, there would be nothing gentle about their coupling. With how high stakes everything would be tomorrow, all Iris wanted – needed was him. “I don’t want gentle," Iris said quietly. "I want whatever you'll give me.”

The demand in her tone had a noise he never thought he could make slip from his throat and Eris surged forward to claim her lips once more, searing himself into her.

His hands couldn’t move fast enough; he shoved her dress down her body, undergarments with it and Eris only got a second to admire her body before getting distracted by Iris’s own hands practically ripping off his clothing and in an instant, he helped her send them flying. He turned her around, pushing her body down and Iris hissed at the sensation of the cold table to her heated naked body. She couldn’t help but lean forward even further, presenting herself to him, and couldn’t stop the mewl that slipped from her lips when he smacked her ass. 

She looked over her shoulder and found Eris’s eyes on her, spreading her legs and Iris couldn’t stop the arch of her hips, biting her lip with a soft moan when his fingers slipped into her already wet folds.

“This is going to be hard and fast. I promise to be nice to you later but now…now I need to fuck you, wife.” He said and the low tenor of his voice made her hips arch back further, her breaths in time with his fingers teasing her entrance. “You understand?”

“Then you better fuck me hard, mate.” she said and Eris’s breath shuddered as she whispered, “I’m all yours.”

“Brace yourself,” was all he said before Eris thrust into her without preamble, and Iris let out a ragged moan, clutching onto the table as he had her. Eris fisted a hand in her hair and fucked her at a vicious pace and she could do nothing but bend over further for him, whimpering helplessly.

Her body took him and his brutal pace, Iris groaning as Eris grunted into her ear and Iris felt her impending release slowly start to build. The sensation of his tight grip on her hair, his other hand firmly on her back to keep her down was fueling a lust like never before in her.

It made her realize that she desperately liked it when he unleashed himself on her. That in fact, she loved that he was fucking her like this, especially as he thrust into her so hard again, he hit a spot she hadn’t thought existed until him. 

Looking over her shoulder, her breath quickened at the sight of the fire blazing in his eyes as he claimed her.

“Husband.” She gasped and Eris’s eyes snapped up to her, the hand on her back sliding to her ass and squeezing.

“Wife.”

“Harder.” She demanded and Eris’s eyes glazed over, the words driving him into a frenzy. He growled so deeply, goosebumps erupted all over her and the hand fisted in her hair pulled her head back so he could claim her lips, bruising her with a kiss.

“Gladly, mate.” he purred.

She shuddered and tried to meet his pace but Eris had unleashed himself completely and her husband was gone. Pushing her down fully on the table, the grip on her hips was deliciously painful as he thrust wildly.

There was no hope for her to catch up and Iris happily let him claim her, her release creeping closer – knowing how much they needed this with all that tomorrow would bring. The sound of his heavy breathing, the sound of their bodies meeting, and finally when he smacked her ass hard enough she knew there would be a mark, Iris shattered with a delicate cry.

Eris grunted and didn’t give her a moment to shudder through her climax as he pulled out, his length hard and wet with her release. He turned her over so fast and before she could realize what was happening, her husband had her flat on her back on the table.

Yanking her to the edge, he spread her legs for him and slapped her cunt, rubbing the slickness of her release in her folds. “I didn’t ask you to come.” He purred, his tone just a little mean and Iris arched her back off the table with a throaty groan as he slapped her sex again. “You like it when I slap your cunt, wife? Your cunt that belongs to me?”

But Iris was having a hard time getting her mouth to form words and could only breathe heavily, nodding. 

“I want to hear your answer, little gazelle.” he growled and slapped her cunt again, the sting a little harder and Iris cried out.

“Yes.” Iris wouldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed at the whimper that left her lips when he did it once more with a savage grin.

“That’s my good girl.”

Iris’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as his hips snapped into hers and held, the sensation so overwhelmingly good she could already feel another release building. 

The blaze in his eyes become more prominent, predatory as he pulled back only to pound into her again, his thrusts frantic and the pace merciless, watching her take his cock; a choked sob slipping from Iris’s lips when he pushed her legs further apart and held down, the angle deepening his reach. Her hand slid to her clit and his smirk was wild as he watched her play with herself, her pace trying to match his.

“You take me so fucken good, wife. I need to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see the way my cock fills you up. So you can see how your swollen cunt drips with need for me.” His voice was guttural and Iris bit her lips, the words only igniting more fire in her – more want. “You like it like this? You like it when I lose control? When I fuck you like an animal?”

“Yes.” She breathed and Eris clenched his jaw, his thrusts now desperate. 

“My hand — your throat.” his words were barely understood as another choked whimper slipped from Iris and she begged, 

“Please.”

Her plea had Eris’s hand slide to her throat and Iris’s mouth fell open at the sensation of his grip tightening slightly.

“You like that?” He ground out, snapping his hips into her hard enough, it caused her to shift back onto the table slightly.

But Iris could only gasp as he pulled her back to the edge of the table with a growl, his grip on her throat heightening all her other senses, her free hand clenching the hand on her throat desperately.

“I’m —“

“I’ll have you dripping all over this table momentarily, wife.” He snarled. “Patience.”

And Iris let him lose himself inside her as she lost herself in him. The feeling of being at his mercy like this would’ve had her breaking out in hives once upon a time but now she trusted him so thoroughly that giving him this type of control — control he needed – was so freeing. She was free falling and the sound of his rough grunts as he fucked her senseless sent her right over the edge once more with a tight moan.

“I said pati — fuck.” He growled and his thrusts became even more erratic as she clenched her walls around him, her body bowing off the table with a silent scream, her release coursing through her.

“Eris.” She whined and the sound of his name whispered from her lips undid him.

Eris cursed, pumping hard as he spilled himself inside her and Iris watched him through hooded eyes, relishing the way his eyes closed, the hand not on her throat gripping her thigh tight enough she knew it would bruise. He leaned over her, resting his head in the crook of her neck,  his breathing unsteady as his thrusts slowed and Iris could only moan softly when he pressed himself in her and held again, his cock still pulsing inside her. Her thumb caressed the hand still wrapped around her throat and Iris licked her lips, pleasure still coursing through her. 

When he finally opened his eyes and pulled back slightly, the sight of her underneath him, splayed beautifully, almost had him come again; he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her, and judging by the way her walls still tightened around his shaft, Eris was sure she didn’t mind. He loved being inside her, loved it when she warmed his cock.

The fingers around her throat stroked her neck gently before he let go and peppered it with soft kisses that earned him a breathless sigh from his wife’s lips and he couldn’t help his small smile when he pulled back to meet her gaze.

And Eris felt his whole being crumble when she smiled softly at him and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing her with such tenderness that Iris felt her heart break a little. This was the way it was between them – a little rough balanced in with a little soft; she was the only one who made him realize how much he needed that softness. 

She pulled him closer with a hand on the back of his neck, the other on his chest, and wrapped her legs around his waist, the movement pushing him deeper inside her, and Iris had to bite her lip to swallow the wanton sound she knew would come out of her mouth. But she wanted to wrap her very being around him and keep him close to her heart, where he would be safe and whole and hers. She wanted him forever like this, in her arms as he kissed her and touched her and looked at her like she was the only one who mattered.

Their kiss deepened and when he shifted slightly, she wasn’t sure who made the breathless noise between them as she tightened around his cock again.

He shifted slightly, brushing a hair out of her face. “You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you?” he gasped and Iris giggled. 

“I’m only giving you what you wanted.” 

His gaze was smoldering and Iris felt her whole body heat as they shared a breath but Eris forced himself to pause, his eyes roaming her face. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly and Iris felt his nervousness start to creep up. “Did I —“

“You didn’t hurt me.” She said immediately and leaned up to leave a quick kiss on his neck, running a hand down his chest. “I liked it. I liked it a lot. In fact –” Iris slid her hands up his toned arms then down his back slowly until they settled on his backside and she squeezed, digging her nails into his flesh. Her cheeks flushed as he groaned, rocking into her. “I think you and I are far from finished.”

Eris’s eyes flashed with desire as her words ignited a fire within him; she always knew what he needed without saying a word. His wife. His friend. His mate.

She was his and he was hers and Eris – who had never even dreamed of this, would hold on to this glowing thread between them like the lifeline it was.

“You’re right,” he said and his voice was a sensuous caress as he leaned closer. “I am far from done with you, little gazelle.” 

Little else was said as the two moved, and there was nothing soft about this claiming, nothing gentle about the need and desperation in their touches. Everything would change tomorrow and Eris couldn’t stop himself from letting himself be all wrapped up in her. For having this night of forgetting. 

And Eris promised himself he would do whatever it takes for their tomorrow to have a tomorrow. Whatever it takes to bring them peace. Regardless of how many pieces he had to break himself to do it. 

[gorouinheat]

If you want it, then drug it!

( Scaramouche x m!reader ) Minors, fem DNI

- all characters are 18+

cw: non-con to consent at the end?? , use of drugs (aphrodisiacs n’ other stuff), powerbottom!scara, trans scara, scratches, sloppy sex, confession at the end

You're walking towards your best friend Scaramouche's house, feeling the winter chill biting at your cheeks. You're all wrapped up in a cozy coat, gloves, and a scarf, and you're psyched to hang out with Scaramouche since he offered to help you study for your finals. You've been stressing out since your grades have sucked lately, and you're worried about having to retake courses next semester. Thankfully, Scaramouche is a total brainiac who's acing all his classes, so you're hopeful that he can help you turn things around. As you approach his house, you rub your hands together, hoping that it's warm and inviting inside. You could use some blankets and a hot cup of tea right now.

You give the door a firm knock and stand there waiting for him to answer. It seems to be taking him longer than usual, so you start to wonder if he's in the bathroom or if he's just being difficult and making you wait in the cold. You let out an exasperated sigh and knock once more. Finally, he answers the door.

“What took so long? I’m freezing out here, you moron.” You say with your teeth catering from the cold.

Scaramouche stands in the doorway and greets you with a snarky attitude, "Not my fault you don't know how to properly dress for the cold." You roll your eyes and step into the warm embrace of his house, feeling the heat immediately soothe your cold skin. You let out a sigh of relief and a smile spreads across your face as you take off your jacket and shoes. Scaramouche shuts the door behind you and his face contorts into a grimace as he notices you just plopping your jacket carelessly on the floor.

“Hey, remember the coat rack by the door? It's there for a reason," he says with the same attitude in his voice as he picks up your coat and hangs it up. You glance around the cozy living room, admiring the festive Christmas decorations his mom has put up for the holidays. Suddenly, your eyes are drawn to the enchanting mini Christmas village on the side table, and you can't help but feel a little bit of holiday cheer bubbling up inside you.

"6 o'clock is when my mom usually comes home. So, I think it's important we get started on studying now.” Scara says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. You glance over at him while still admiring the miniature houses and nod in agreement.

As you are standing in the hallway with Scaramouche, he turns to you and tells you that it's time to study. "That means stop looking around like an idiot and go up to my room," he says, snapping his fingers in your face. You feel slightly taken aback but decide to ignore his rudeness and follow him upstairs.

You both enter his room, and Scaramouche heads towards his bookshelf to fetch his study materials. You plop down on his bed, letting out a sigh of relief after walking up the stairs. However, Scaramouche doesn't seem to appreciate your relaxed attitude. "Sit up," he barks at you, smacking your head. You let out a yelp of pain and rub the spot where he hit you.

Feeling annoyed, you sit up straight as he places the books on your lap. You can't help but wonder why he is being so harsh with you. Nonetheless, you try to focus on the task at hand and begin studying with him.

"If you fail this exam, you're spending your Christmas break alone," Scara threatens. You groan and open the books to the study guide pages for the exam. "For you, I won't," you say dryly. Scaramouche's face heats up as he scoffs and sits beside you on the bed.

He helps you study for a bit, leaning up against you as he points at a question that you need help with. His breath tickles you as he talks, of course, he did all of this on purpose but he knew you were too oblivious to that. He did this daily actually, showing obvious signs he likes you but you shrug it off every time. it's really starting to make him upset

You've been studying for the past 30 minutes, trying your best to focus on the dense material in front of you. Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Scaramouche's voice breaks the silence, "Want anything to drink?" You look up, surprised by his sudden offer. "Uhh..sure," you reply, grateful for the interruption. Scaramouche nods and disappears downstairs to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, you take a deep breath and try to get back into the zone. But your mind is still struggling to process everything, and you can feel the frustration building up inside you. Suddenly, Scaramouche appears again, carrying a tray with two cups of tea. The warm and soothing aroma fills the room, making you feel calmer.

As you reach out to take the cup, you notice a certain glint in Scaramouche's eyes. He hands you the hot cup, and you can instantly smell the aroma of cinnamon tea. "Mmm, it smells so good," you say, feeling content. Scaramouche stands there, grinning, as you take a sip. "Did I make it alright?" he asks innocently. You smile and reply, "You always make the best tea, Scara." You take another sip, and another, while Scaramouche watches you intently. His heart races with anticipation, knowing that he's finally going to get what he wants. His mind wanders for a moment as you finish the tea, and he can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

As you place the cup of tea on the nightstand, he snaps out of his thoughts and lets out a deep sigh. You feel the warmth spreading through your belly, soothing your nerves. Suddenly, Scara's cheeky grin returns, and he suggests taking a break from the books for a moment. He sits on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs, inviting you to join him. How could you resist such an offer?

As you hum and ponder for a moment, Scaramouche looks at you expectantly. "What will it be?" he asks, his metallic voice ringing in your ears. You open your mouth to speak, but suddenly feel a wave of dizziness wash over you, causing your sentence to cut short. "You okay, Y/N?" Scaramouche's hand rests on your leg, concern etched into his features.

As you slowly open your eyes, you feel a slight dizziness, but you try to shake it off and try to sit up. Suddenly, you feel Scaramouche's hand on your thigh, and a jolt of electricity runs through your body. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you look into his eyes, wondering what he's thinking.

As you rise to your feet, you feel a shiver run down your spine. You gently move Scaramouche’s hand away and take a step forward, feeling a bit unsteady. "I think I need to use the bathroom," you say, your words a bit uncertain. But before you can take another step, your legs give out and you collapse onto the bed once again.

"Take a break and lie down for a moment, Y/N," Scaramouche whispers as he gently props you up on the pillows. He then leans in close to your ear and says, “Let me take care of you.”

You utter a confused "Oh..yeah, okay", trying to make sense of what's going on. You close your eyes in an attempt to steady yourself as the room begins to spin around you. Suddenly, the heat becomes too much to bear, making you long for the freezing cold outside. You start to feel uneasy, fidgeting on the bed and frantically clawing at your jeans. As you struggle to keep your thoughts in check, your mind wanders to something completely unexpected - Scaramouche. You can't help but notice how appetizing he looks right now, but then you quickly remind yourself that he is your best friend. What is happening to you?

You find yourself struggling to stay conscious as you gasp out Scara's name. The heat is too intense, and your head is spinning. Scaramouche looks at you, feigning concern, but you can sense the malevolence behind his facade. Suddenly, you feel his hands, cold as ice, pressing against your chest. It sends shivers down your spine and you try to push him away, but your strength is failing. Scaramouche gradually started to unbutton your shirt.

As you shake your head no, you feel your face getting hot with anger. Scaramouche notices your reaction and quickly moves closer cupping your cheek to calm you down. "Hey, hey, it's just me and you. You can trust me, can't you?" he says in a sad tone, trying to manipulate you.

As you gaze at him, your heart races and you can feel your chest heaving up and down. Despite the nerves, you nod in agreement. Scaramouche is your closest friend; the one who's always been there for you. You know in your heart that he would never do anything to hurt you. Right?

As Scaramouche's warm smile reaches your face, his gentle caress on your cheek sends shivers down your spine. You feel an overwhelming sense of comfort and safety around him. As his hand moves down to your neck, you can't help but feel a tingle of excitement mixed with the comfort. Despite the side effects of the drink you had earlier, the dizziness and confusion continue to linger, but being with Scaramouche makes you forget all your worries.

That was before he made it down to your chest finishing off the rest of the buttons and slipped off your shirt. Scaramouche bites his lip when he sees your chest, running his cold hand against your pecs and down to your belly. A whine slips from your lips as he moves down to remove your pants next. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel your pants get pulled down to your knees.

Scaramouche sighs as he finally gets what he waited so long for. He reaches for your growing bulge and starts rubbing you through your boxers, “Mm you feel kinda big..” He grins.

Sparks of pleasure course through your body now that the effects of whatever he had put in your drink took their hold. You whine loudly, not expecting this sudden touch. Beginning to feel the sudden need to submit to Scaramouche. All you wanted was for him to have his way with you, you’d just sit there and take it. The swirling pool of desire grows stronger as you jerk your hips up against his hand.

A gasp leaves your lips as you make contact with his hand again. “Scara?.. what are you do-fuck that feels good.” You shudder and moan out as he rubs your clothed tip. Scaramouche grins sinisterly, “yeah? Feels good?” His voice was so smooth and rich, like honey dripping over your senses, that you couldn't help but crave more. As you took in a deep breath, the room seemed to become hazy and distant. You strained to hear what he was saying, but his words were lost in the fog of lust and desire.

Abruptly Scaramouche manages to pull down your boxers, making your cock slap against your stomach. Your hard shaft is swollen with need, already leaking from the burning desire to take Scaramouche. As your eyes fill up with tears and your head starts throbbing, you gaze down at him, feeling a mix of emotions. “Scara..” you mutter, his name seems to be the only thing you can say right now. “Shhh don’t fight it,” he says grabbing your throbbing length, “I’ve wanted this for so long..” he whines as he licks a straight line up your base with His damp tongue.

You bawl your fist against the sheets tightly, nails digging into the palm of your hand. Scara lets out a breathy laugh at your reaction, “cock sensitive?” he says mouthing against your cock, his hot breath making your cock jerk in his hand. You nod dumbly- the drugs making your mind hazy, you don’t care what he does at this point..not that you could muster up the words to say anything right now anyway, only whimpers and whines leaving your lips.

Hastily, Scaramouche flattens his tongue against your mushroom head tip before he gradually sinks his mouth on your cock. You abruptly let out a choked sob from the sudden wave of overwhelming pleasure, making your thighs shudder wildly. As Scaramouche goes further down your length, trying his best not to gag - your cock stretches his throat so good making his eyes roll back in pleasure. You buck your hips up into his mouth out of need, causing your tip to jab the back of Scara’s throat. He gags and jerks his head back up from your length, coughing up saliva that lands on your cock. He inhales shakily as he catches his breath with his eyes squeezed shut. When he gathers his composer again he chuckles, looking back at you with glossy eyes. “My mouth feels that good?” his tone is teasing and he slowly strokes the base of your cock, smearing his saliva all over it.

The sound of squelching comes from the movement where Scara rubs your cock softly. Out of his pleasure, he ruts himself against his mattress as he strokes your length sloppily. Even the slightest gliding of his fingers was making you go crazy. You moan loudly each time his hand reaches your overly sensitive tip. “You moan like a fucking girl.” he snarkily says before leaning his head down and sucking up the pre-cum that flowed out from your cock.

He moans when he feels the salty taste of your pre-cum spread across his tongue, savoring the taste before popping off your cock. He gasps, catching his breath before moving back to his original place. His mouth engulfs your cock, taking in whatever he can down his small throat. His tongue swirls around your sensitive head. The feeling of his lips sliding up and down, combined with the stroking hands of where he couldn’t reach, sends waves of intense pleasure throughout your body.

Your hips shudder as you try to force your cock deeper into his mouth. His hands grip your hips tightly, keeping you still as he continues to take more of you down his throat, gagging before he comes back up and suckles on your cock head.

With a satisfied smirk, Scaramouche pulls away from you, leaving your cock still hard and glistening with his saliva. “I didn’t expect you to taste so good” he purrs, his throat a bit sore. As you lay there, breathlessly and aroused, Scaramouche slowly slides up your body, his lips pressing light kisses along your throat and jawline. You feel him gradually remove his shorts and panties, leaving him only in his black tank top.

You wait impatiently for Scaramouche to position himself on top of you. You can't help but feel frustrated that you can't even speak properly. The pills are still taking effect and you're starting to feel numb all over, making it hard to do anything but whine and wiggle your hips in anticipation.

Scaramouche seeing your anticipation, laughs and looks at you with a sly grin before he positions himself over your throbbing cock, guiding it towards his exposed entrance. “Wanted this for so long..” he whines, his voice suddenly going soft.

“Wouldn’t mind if we went in raw right?” he says softly, not even giving you enough time to respond before he sinks down onto your cock. The moment Scaramouche’s hot, slick cunt engulfs your cock, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, like you were made for only him. His lips wrap around your base, massaging you with his velvet walls. You choked out a loud moan and toss your head back, your mind filled with nothing but the urge to cum.

Scaramouche whines, his face now decorated with a cute blush and teary eyes. Not being able to handle the pleasure, you move your hands up to push Scara off.

Shaking his head rapidly, he whines out “He-hey! No, no please” in a high pitch tone, your cock filling him just right. He swears he feels you in his stomach. He pins your hands down, gasping “Just, ngh- just let me have this.”

He groans softly, his head rolling back as he adjusts to the fullness of your cock. His body shudders, hips rocking back and forth. Your small whimpers and whines encouraging him.

He lets go of your hands and rubs your hips, making you whine and turn your head to the side. His walls being too much for your sensitive cock, you felt like you were going to bust any moment. You let out a shaky sigh as you try to calm down from the overwhelming feeling of his constant squeezing.

Scara’s shaky hands move up to your shoulders and grip them tight, nails digging into your skin - before lifting his hips and plopping back down on your cock. You toss your head back as Scaramouche lets out a high-pitched moan, “fuck! You’re so big…” he whines. Nails breaking your skin as he moves up and down on your cock, nearly knocking the air out of you with each movement. Your head rolled against the pillow as you let out uncontrollable moans, your mind fuzzy with lust. 

You didn’t even notice you were drooling til Scaramouche leans down, licks it up from your lips, and kisses you. It was sloppy but loving, you kiss back and slip your tongue into his mouth. The sounds of the sloppy makeout mix in with the constant plap of Scaramouche’s hips hitting yours, filling the room. He moans into your mouth and squeezes his eyes shut as he feels your tip brush against the deepest part of him.

You feel his body tense up before he pulls away, stuttering, “G-god damnit..” A thin strand of saliva still connects your lips as his eyes roll back, and he drops his head onto your shoulder. You feel the sweat from his forehead as he roughly grinds down on your cock, taking one of your hands close to his clit. You feel your tingling fingers against the hot sensitive flesh of his clit, making your fingers do a circle movement on the small nub.

Scaramouche shudders, forcing your fingers to rub faster. “Ah, fuck! …” he tries to catch his breath, his heart racing. “B-Buck into me, m’ so so close” he whines. His hands move to grip your wrist tighter. You were fading in and out of consciousness when you grit your teeth and thrust up into his sopping-wet hole, making another loud plap.

Scaramouche’s tongue rolls out of his mouth, drooling all over your shoulder as you buck into him fast and hitting his spot dead on. He squeals and grips onto you tight, “Fuck- FUCK, Y/N!” He shouts your name as his thighs shudder and give out. “Mmmmph!” He groans, his body tensing at each thrust. He tries his best to hold back his orgasm, wanting nothing more but to cum with you.

You huff, shakily moving your hands on Scara’s hip and gripping them tight enough to bruise. He winces in pain but it's soon lost when you lift his hips and fuck him back down onto your length, making him mewl in pleasure. “A-are you close?” He says in the crook of your neck, his voice trembling. As he feels you nodding against his head, he tightens his grip on you, eagerly grinding against you after each thrust.

His body trembles as he holds back the impending orgasm, his cunt throbbing in anticipation. “Fuck…I can't hold it- please cum..” He gasps, his voice strained.

You hear your heartbeat in your ears as your balls clenched and the swirling in your stomach snaps. You bite hard on Scara’s shoulder as you grunt and shoot your thick load into Scaramouche. He grits his teeth at the bite but feeling your load enter him sends him over the edge. His hips jerk forward as he loses control. His orgasm crashes over him, his back arching as he throws his head back.

“Sh-shit!” He shudders as you feel his walls clenching tight around your cock, milking every last drop of worth from it. You let out a shaky breath, plopping your head back onto the pillow. Your hips twitch from the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling it slowly leak out of Scara’s hole. He lets out a soft moan as he lifts his hips and your cock slips out, his body still trembling from the aftermath of his intense orgasm. His eyes are closed and he doesn’t move for a few moments, keeping you inside. He feels your cum run down his thigh, leaving them sticky.

His eyes open slowly, taking in the sight of you. Your cheeks stained with tears but you had a blissful look on your face.

Scaramouche's mind is plagued with guilt as he dwells on all the things he has done to you, all because of lust. He can't help but feel remorseful for the pain and hurt he has caused you. The weight of his guilt is heavy.

I'm sorry," he mutters, his voice hoarse from his previous actions, but you know he means it. You lick your dry lips and take a breath as Scaramouche continues, defending his actions, "This was the only way I could get you to finally see me. You were always going after people who didn't care about you, always going after people who didn't love you," he rambles. "I love you, Y/N," he says, his voice filled with pain, "I didn't mean to hurt you in the process. It's fine if you never want to talk to me ever again after this.”

You look up at him, trying your best to take in all his words but everything is moving so fast for you. You hear the true guilt in his voice and for a second you feel bad. Probably wasn't the best plan to drug you and then straddle your lap but, the power of possessiveness grows strong over time - it makes you do crazy things. Your heart warms up at his soft words, his confession being a bit cute with sweaty, messy hair and a red face. You smirk, your personality coming back. “I thought it was kinda hot,” you say with a smug look. Scaramouche looks back up at you wide-eyed, soon turning into a glare.

As you hold him in your lap, he looks at you with a red face and mumbles, "Oh shut up and answer me." Without saying a word, you lean in and plant a soft kiss on his lips. "Does that answer your question?" you whisper. He shakes his head and demands, "I wanna hear you say it." You can feel your heartbeat quicken as you consider how to respond.

You gently whisper, "I love you, Scara," and as the words leave your lips, you notice a flicker of emotion in his eyes. His heart flutters in his chest, and he tries to look away to hide the tears that are welling up in his eyes. You can hear his breathing quicken as he takes a moment to compose himself, overwhelmed by the depth of your affection.

As you finish speaking, you can't help but add a bit of sarcasm to your tone. "How's that, or do you want me to say it again?" you say, with a smirk on your face. Scaramouche pinches you hard in embarrassment, causing you to wince and shout out. "Shut it already…that was enough," he says, looking up at you. You can sense the tension and guilt in the room disappearing as your words sink in.

You feel a sudden, intense pain in your head that throbs and pounds with each pulse. The pain is likely a side effect from the numerous pills you took earlier, you groan and rub your head. “What the hell did you exactly give me?” Scaramouche shrugs, his snarky at this returning “I'm not saying, I might have to use it on you again.” You scoff playfully at his words.

“You fucking brat..”

an: day 23 of no pussy, i hated this fic actually 🤓🤓

[redheadspark]

hi could i ask for #11 with az fron the september prompt list?? i think itd be sooo cute with him!!!! feel free to ignore this if u dont wanna write it! thank u love u

A/N - I love this for our batboy! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Always

Summary - You knew how to bring Azriel back. Always

Warnings - Just some fluff :D

You saw it in his backside first, how his shoulders were hunched and his wings were tucked tight.

Azriel, being the ever-brooding Spymaster that he was, would give off certain signs that he was tense or stressed.  Now to any other person, he could hide it so well and not have it been a huge deal.  But to others who knew him well, very well, his stress would still be seen and the tension was evident along the tightness of the shoulders and the click of his jawline.  

As for you, being his mate and the one true person you knew Azriel the best, his tension and stress were hugely seen.

On the plus side, there were plenty of tricks you’ve done in the past to help ease the tension and lower the stress.  Similar things included getting him his favorite tea at night at the ready when he would slump home from the training camps, getting him a new book you knew would strike his interest, and even preparing a favorite meal of his from his childhood that his mother would make him on bad days.  They all have worked splendidly, you seeing the look of adoration on his face and the stare of love in his eyes as he hugged and thanked you.  

Other things included long walks together in the evening under the bright stars, getting a drink from Rita’s that was not too strong but enough to make him lean back in his chair so to speak, and a hike on the weekend would sometimes be better.  Of course, getting him in bed and driving the stress out of him that way never failed. 

But there was one last tactic you rarely used on him, a tactic that was linked to a secret that no one else knew about him.  Not even Cassian or Rhysand knew this secret, and Azriel would be mortified if they did.

Azriel was ticklish.

You slipped into your bedroom, seeing Azriel already rubbing the back of his neck with a bit of agitation and some grimacing as his wings remained tight along his backside.  Closing the door quietly, you hummed and crawled on top of the bed to be right behind him.  Placing your hands along his shoulders, you felt him shiver, making you press a kiss against his head.

“How bad was the camp today?” You whispered, feeling him reach up with one hand to touch yours on his shoulder.

“They’re new recruits, trying to get them all on the same page is another kind of torture,” he hummed, squeezing your fingers in his scarred ones, “I think Cassian almost threw one of them off the mountain,”

“That’s why you have captains, Az.  To train them, that's not your job anymore,” You gently reminded him.

“Our Captains are not doing their best, which is why I needed to step in a few times,” He explained, sighing in tiredness and a hint of heaviness, “I don’t wanna think about training anymore.  I missed you, how was your day?”

You grinned at him asking you, your fingers staying on his shoulders as a way to distract him, though you already had a plan hatched in your mind, “Well, I worked on our garden today and we have a good batch of carrots and cucumbers for our stew that you like, Feyre is in talk with me about maybe visiting Winter Court for a day or two to talk about their Community Center, and then I was thinking—“

Your fingers went to his sides, tickling him mercilessly as he laughed and tumbled onto the bed as if you were not letting up.  Just hearing his laugh along made your heart sing, knowing it was genuine and filled with life.  Sometimes he would have to force a laugh from meetings with other High Lords from other Courts, just to be civil.  You hated those kinds of laughs, nothing like him at all as his real laugh could bring you up from your lowest days.  Hearing his laugh for the first time, his real laugh that he would only have with a handful of his close friends, was one of the first things that made you fall in love with him,

One of many things really.

After a few seconds of you tickling him, thinking that you would get the upper hand, Azriel used his own Spymaster tricks on you in a millisecond. Now you were the one pinned under him on your king-sized bed, his fingers getting at your ribs and behind your legs as your laugh was now the one filling the room.  Although you knew he would never use intense force on you, you still felt useless in rolling out from under him.

Yet the trick worked, you seeing through your teary eyes that his wings were now hanging loosely at his sides, his shoulders were slumped with the tension flying away in the air, and even his bright hazel eyes were twinkling in delight as you were shaking and shrieking in laughter from his fingers along your skin.

“You give in?!” He asked over your laughing fit.  You were giggling like mad, but you nodded your head as he finally backed off with his fingers.  But before he could get too far away, you pulled him in by the back of his neck to kiss him softly.  He melted against you, arms in your hold and kissing you back smoothly.

This side of Azriel was rare, but such a sight to see.  Nothing bothering him, nothing stressing him out to the point of pulling his own hair out.  He was at ease, the weight of his duties and the world in itself was nowhere near him.  You would fight tooth and nail to make sure he would have this in his life.

Both of your lives.

You pulled away from his lip briefly to scan his eyes, waiting as he caught his breath before you spoke, “All is well, Az.  Okay?”

He took in a long breath, smiling as he nodded his head, “Okay,”

There was no more talk of the stress he had that day, not after you two untangled from each other and had dinner in your little kitchen, and after you two took a shower together to wash off the day.

Finally, the stress never returned as you two embraced one another in your bed to let the sleep take over. You knew you would always find a way to help Azriel, no matter how far away he felt.

You’d bring him home.  Always.

The End.

September Prompt Sessions

[chao-thicc-hcs]

hi!!! i hope you’re well😚

i was wondering if you can write a bonten rindou x reader where the reader has an ed (kind of a emergency ask) and gets skinner each time he sees them and eventually passes out on a date with rindou and he helps her get better! hope you have a good day/night!!🩷🩷

and ps your writing is AMAZING 🫂

AAA TYSM ANON. I am so sorry this took long iuergtoig My love goes out to anyone fighting eds. You're beautiful and strong, remember <3

His s/o fighting their ED.

♝ft. rindou haitani

warning(s): mentions of ED, fainting, threats, insecurities, reader is nb but there's mentions of feminine clothing and manneurisms

-art by AME on pixiv

Rindou always kept you far away from whatever he was doing within the gang, not wanting to hurt or tarnish his precious angel. It resulted in both of you not seeing each other for months, but he never failed to video call you during the evening and message you whenever he's busy. You'd always come home to numerous, big packages of presents flooding your doorstep, all filled with presents from your boyfriend.

Rindou was quiet, but observing. He noticed every detail in your body, even the tiniest of changes like buying new earrings, or just tried out new skin products, your scent - everything. He was more than just infatuated.

This included your change in shape. The way your clothes were getting baggier and how you tried to hold them together in various ways. How your body was less softer when you sat on his lap, how tinier you were now compared to him.

Every time he laid eyes on you after weeks of not meeting you, his stomach felt tiny and a strange whirlwind of anxiety raged inside his chest. You didn't look healthy. He is all about body positivity, and will love you in all shapes and forms, but you were crossing the line of what's healthy and isn't, judging by the way your eyes had little to no color, and your skin was paler.

During a winter nocturne, both of you were in your apartment, cuddling under a blanket as the snow fell outside, creating a peaceful ambience both of you enjoyed, better than the opulence of the spacious restaurants you used to visit before. The TV was playing a random movie you came across, succeeding to entertain both of you during this chilly night.

-Y/n. Are you eating well? -he suddenly spoke up, his eyes not darting away from the TV

You lifted your body up and looked at him, confused at his sudden question. -I am eating well, Rin. Why are you asking all of a sudden?

-You always seem... skinnier each time I see you, and I am worried. You want to keep going even when you're already skinny enough.

-Rin, don't stress it! I am just working out more often and I watch how I eat.

Rindou blinked. His eyes looked at the small plate of fruit tarts he bought for you. They used to be your favorite, but now remain untouched. His hand reached to grab one and feed it to you, but his brows furrowed at how you waved your hand in front of your face with disgust written all over it.

-Rin, stop it, I told you I am watching my meals.

His eyes didn't leave your face. He was gobsmacked, to say the least. There was definitely something wrong, but digging deeper into the wound would just result in an argument, so he kept his mouth sealed for the sake of the night progressing peacefully.

Noticing his expression, you dug out the worry in his eyes, and let out a sigh. You ate the tart reluctantly. Rindou examined every wrinkle on your face as you grimaced, letting out a sigh and turning his head around.

Rindou loved buying clothes for you and ogling at the way every fabric swayed and wrinkled around your body. He'd always pull you for a dance when you happen to be at his club, or even at an expensive restaurant, hands roaming around your figure, gripping the fabric with desire flowing at the tip of his fingers. His nose buried deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

He noticed everything. The way the fabrics of your favorite attires became looser and looser, how your body appeared smaller and more fragile. Your facial structure changing, your hands appearing skinnier.

He couldn't quite grasp the idea of why you decided to torment your body and not share anything with him. After all both of you enjoyed talking and venting out all of your frustrations... so why is it different this time? He blamed none other but himself - for not being around you as much, maybe not giving you enough compliments.

He felt uneasy. Stifling in his bed and finding himself looking up at the ceiling for hours. He cares, he really does but doesn't know how to bring up the topic. He wanted to discuss it with you, but was afraid he might say something that could upset you.

It wasn't hard for him to soon come to the conclusion you are developing an eating disorder. It ate him up and corroded his insides, specifically his chest area. ''If only I was around them more often to tell them how absolutely drop-dead gorgeous they are... this could've never happened."

.

You were finally able to see each other for this evening after a month. Rindou decided to take you to his and Ran's club so both of you can dance the night away, holding each other and swimming in the sweet fields of expensive inebriation. He couldn't wait to embrace you while the music is blasting in the background, swaying left and right.

You wore the tiniest skirt known to mankind, one that you knew was going to make Rindou frothe at the mouth, kneel down and worship the ground you step on, and thick, heavy heels that made the ground shake with your steps. You did a quick turn to examine your features completely before heading down to his car.

His eyes widened at the sight of you approaching his vehicle. Your potent fragrance wafting in the air and hitting his nostrils with a hard punch, making him almost levitate in his seat.

-Well hello there, gorgeous.-he opened the door for you and returned to his seat, eyeing you up and down-You look breathtaking.

A chuckle escaped your mouth, your confidence elevating to new levels at how you easily captivated your lover, who even after years of dating still worships you the same.

The drive to the club was tense with Rindou making the silliest of mistakes just because he couldn't stop glancing at you and letting himself being bewitched by your scent. You stepped out of the expensive car and intertwined your fingers with him. All eyes were on you in the club once you stepped foot inside. Neon lights painting your figures as your mere presence emitted confidence and dominance. Rindou led you to a table, where only the two of you could have your moment.

-Order what your heart desires, sweetheart. My treat.

You tried to be humble, but the way he looked at you with his sultry eyes glazed with a lustful gaze made your heart skip a beat, impulsively ordering some of the most expensive cocktail the club has to offer. Rindou ordered for a special jewel to be placed inside of it, to which your heart fluttered.

Your head was pounding, all of a sudden you felt numb and exhausted before you even began indulging in drinking. Rindou felt heat waves all over his body as you held your forehead with your hand.

-Y/n, dear, is everything okay?-Ran cooed, placing his hand on your shoulder

You couldn't really say anything as the fatigue overwhelmed you with the excruciating headache at the back of your head. It felt as if the club was spinning around you and everyone turned into blurry figurines swaying in the air.

. . .

-...Y/n, Y/n... Y/N!!

A familiar voice echoed through the walls of the abyss you were thrown into all of a sudden. Your eyes opened slowly, vision still blurry as you took your time to process what was happening. You were inside a hospital. Your head was heavy and you couldn't lift anything up. A couple of pair of eyes were staring at you in worry, including Rindou's, who was holding your hand tightly.

-Rindou...where am I?

-In the hospital, silly... you fainted in the club.

You furrowed your brows at his words. The doctor next to you had to explain to you just like anyone else that you should eat and focus on increasing your calorie intake. The shit-eating grin that Rindou had on him was annoying the hell out of you, but you couldn't oppose him at this time, not that you had the power to.

The next couple of hours were serene. You were sleeping peacefully while Rindou watched over you like a guardian angel.

-Sir..you have to leave. The patient needs rest.

-No, thank you.

-Sir. It's past visiting hours already-

-Shut up or I will blow your brains out.

The man was left speechless, and the hollowness in Rindou's eyes indicated he isn't joking the slightest. Quickly, both of you were left alone in the room, as Rindou resumed looking at you while you slept. His expression softened and he reached out to grab you by the hand, gently massaging it with his thumb. His eyes felt heavy by this time, so he lowered his head and placed it on your thighs, quickly falling asleep, his hands shifting to wrap over them.

The remaining days in the hospital were like a fairytale. Rindou wasn't allowed anymore in the hospital because of the threat he gave the doctor, and he came to see you every evening under the window, which happened to be coincidentally facing the backyard of the hospital. He visited all the time, or even told the doctors to hand you the gifts he sent you.

-Y/n, let down your hair~

This made you chuckle uncontrollably, especially how he looked kneeling down illuminated by the shitty hospital lights. You rubbed your temples, amused by how "creative" your lover can be.

-Good lord, Rindou. You could've saved yourself this foolishness if you kept your mouth shut.

-Where's the fun in that?

You couldn't deny it the slightest. His shenanigans always made you laugh and forget whatever burdened you. Especially how his smile sparkled under the eerie light source.

-If I throw this bouquet up, will you catch it?

-Let's find out.

You extended your arms and he threw the bouquet. It was a hair's breadth away from you missing it, but you managed, although one of the attached ferrero rocher fell down next to Rindou's legs.

-This one's for you, dumbass.

And half of the night was spent in a chit-chat with your boyfriend, who stayed in front of the hospital even after you said your goodbyes. He visited almost every night until you felt better and got discharged, immediately wrapping his hands around you, squeezing you tightly.

-Y/n, promise me you will never be this dumb.. okay..? You are way more than perfect, both spiritually and physically. I will love you even if you were a goddamn worm..

The slight crack in his voice made your heart tingle and you tightened the grip around his body, burying your face in the crook of his neck. -I won't... I promise.

-Good, now you're coming with me to finally spoil you after being away for god knows how long before all of this.

You ended in his own apartment. You'd forgotten how cozily messy it was and how at ease the scent of it made you feel. Noticing the huge shelf filled to the brim with pictures of you and him just.. maturing together brought the familiar sense of warmth all over your body.

-You will stay here with me during my week-off from the gang. I want you by my side at all times so I make up for all our missed moments.

He cooed gently as he had you in a bear hug, placing gentle kisses on your shoulders and neck, his hands massaging your stomach. For the first time in what seemed like months - you felt like you were a precious jewel, you felt loved and how your insecurities dissolved into thin air when the infatuation could be felt in his touch. He held you close and didn't want to let you go anytime soon.

-I am sorry I was not there when you needed me. I am sorry that I didn't take down enough stars for you so I could prevent this from happening.

-Rindou, it's not your fault. You've always been such a caring and compassionate man and I'd never switch you for anything else in the world. I was the one who inculcated negativity in my own mind and let myself sink into insecurities that I made up about myself...

You held each other for the entire day as you poured out all your frustrations about seeing different people with a more attractive body structure than yours, all while Rindou coaxed you into eaing the risotto he had prepared for you, including an aloe vera gel that helped with detoxing and cleansing. His words of affirmation and compliments mixed with his touch let you go of your strains.

He prepared himself, researching various ways to subsequently and carefully increase your calorie intake and set your mind aside from the searing insecurities plaguing your mind and driving you to do harm to your body. Rindou made sure to engulf you in sweet words and affirmations about your figure in the most nausea-inducing detail you could imagine. The shape of your legs to the way your hands move when you speak or just do anything in general, how you're an angel sent from above to him.

He'd prepare a nice table with your favorite meals and pour you some of the most exquisite wine brands he loved collecting, He'd make mixtapes and playlists devoted for you that you would listen when he had to go out. He'd show you just how precious you are by embracing you every night and holding you close to him and not letting go.

His rough hands travelling up and down in a massage, while squeezing the sides of your body. Stretch marks? That's fine, you're his litte tiger. Spots all over your body? He doesn't notice them the slightest.

The moonlight emitted comfort during this evening, illuminating your features with a yellowish hue.

Rindou once again held you tight in his embrace, back pressed into the soft mattress of the bed, hands travelling up and down your body. Your bodies felt like they were becoming one with how swiftly the passion grows within the air around you, your tongues swirling in a lustful dance...

©chao-thicc-hcs; reblogs are appreciated

[losfacedevil]

Because You Loved Me // J.T.K

a/n~ I started this last month after coming off of a 6 day long migraine attack and somehow forgot it existed until this months 6 day migraine attack hit.  It’s just a bunch of fluff, and migraine pain related babble, idk.  Word Count ~ 3.4k

A stripe of marmalade orange danced across his face as the sun peaked through the blackout curtains; morning surfacing quicker than they would have liked. A deep sigh slipped past his lips as he arched his back, stretching the entirety of his body as she rolled over; hand reaching out to find him. 

“Morning, Sweet Girl.” His voice was soft; the rasp of sleep causing the corner of her lips to quirk up in a smirk. 

“Just five more minutes.” She whined, scooting over and resting her face in the crook of his neck welcoming the warmth of his arm as his hand found her side. He nodded, nuzzling his nose into the crown of her hair. She pulled her body almost fully on top of his, leg tangling between his as she pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck. 

“Do you have to go to work today? Can’t you just stay home with me?” He couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped past his lips knowing full well what her answer would be. 

“My boss is coming, I can’t. Though I’d much rather stay right here warm and cozy with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she fought the wave of sleep that was trying to overcome her. 

“My boss is coming.” He mimicked her, hand finding purchase on her thigh. 

“Tell your boss where to stick it. Stay in bed with me, lovely.” A giggle slipped past her lips, the fluttering of her eyelashes tickling his neck sending a shiver down his spine. 

“I wish I could, but I have to get ready.” He groaned, rolling so her body was pinned beneath his, peppering her face with soft kisses. 

“Just five more minutes, right? That’s all we need.” His voice held a sultry tone as his lips connected with the soft spot beneath her ear. A whine escaped her, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his shoulder length hair. 

“Jake,please. Later, I promise.” He sighed as he let her guide his head backwards, using his hair for leverage before crashing his lips down onto hers. She whimpered into the kiss, body betraying her as her back arched into him. 

“Later, Jake, later.” She spoke between kisses, reaching out both hands to cup his cheeks. He pulled back, ceasing his attack as his bottom lip jutted out. 

“Lovey,” he whined, rolling his hips down into hers. She giggled, knew full well she was being a brat; but also knew she couldn’t be late for work. 

“Later, sweetness, scouts honor!” She giggled, placing one last kiss to his lips before he rolled off her, allowing her to get up. 

________________

It had felt like the longest day in the history of her career. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong, her boss was breathing down her neck for the silliest reasons and her stress level was sky high. Stepping out of the store into the cool winter air was like transporting into a different dimension, the cool air dancing around her body seemingly lowering her stress level as a familiar pang tugged at her right temple. A sigh slipped past her lips as she flipped the hood of her sweatshirt up on her head, covering her ears to hopefully ward off the headache she knew was going to take hold. 

~*~*~

Her fingers were pressed firmly to her temple, rubbing soothing circles into it as she jiggled her keys into the dead bolt to their shared apartment. She could hear the music before she even opened the door, knew he was sitting on the couch with his beloved guitar resting on his thigh strumming away. She couldn’t help the grimace that she knew her face displayed, screwing her eyes shut as she tossed her keys on the table beside the door. 

His strumming ceased as the door shut, scrambling to pull her sweatshirt over her head before he saw the look on her face. She heard him shift, placing his guitar down on the couch next to him as he turned to face her. 

“Hey sweet girl, how was your day?” Jake asked, rising to stand as he stretched his back. She kept her back to him as she hung her sweatshirt up, taking a deep breath as she fixed her face and willed the migraine away. He slunk up behind her, wrapping his arms around her midsection as he nuzzled his face in the junction where her neck met her shoulder. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut at the welcome warmth of his body against hers. 

“It sucked, I feel like shit.” She mumbled, pulling a deep breath in through her nose as he placed a gentle kiss to the hollow below her ear. He reached down, intertwining his fingers with her and tugging gently. She let him turn her around, wrapping her arms around his waist as she buried her face in his chest. His arms came to rest around her shoulders, his nimble fingers tangling in the hair at the back of her head as he rubbed soothing circles into her scalp. He felt her shoulders fall, the stress of the day melting away as he unknowingly soothed a pain he didn’t know existed. 

“I’m sorry today was bad, is there anything I can do to help?” His voice was soft, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as he pulled his fingers gently through her long locks; sending a shiver down her spine. She shrugged, arms tightening around him as he smoothed down the hair he had been playing with. 

“Maybe start dinner so I can rest my eyes?” Her voice cracked as her reserve broke, she hated asking for help even when she needed it the most. He nodded slightly, running his fingers through the hair by her temple, sending soothing tingles through the side of her head as he tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“Of course baby, do you have anything in mind?” She nodded, wincing as the movement shot pain through her head. 

“There’s a recipe card on the counter I wanted to try.” She mumbled, rubbing her nose against the exposed skin of his chest.

Jake broke away from the hug first, bringing his hands up to cup her cheeks, noting the slight pout on her lips. Leaning forward slightly he rested his forehead against hers, their eyes both fluttering shut. They stood that way for what seemed like an eternity, his fingers slowly putting pressure on her temples as he rubbed soothing circles into them. He took note of her reaction, the sigh of relief slipping past her lips confirming his suspicions as her arms fell a little further, more tension from the day escaping her. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he tilted his head slightly, slotting his nose perfectly next to hers and capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. Another sigh escaped her as her fingers slipped under the hem of the back of his shirt. 

“How about this, you go lay on the couch and I’ll take care of dinner? You won’t even have to lift a finger.” His voice was soft, not wanting to cause her anymore pain. She nodded slightly, lost in the feeling of his hands pulling back through her hair, scratching her scalp in a soothing manner. 

“Are you sure?” Her voice sounded strained, like she was fighting herself. Jake nodded, taking a step back to break her embrace and took her hand in his, leading her to the couch. Pulling the throw pillow off of the arm chair he turned at the waist, tossing the pillow onto the couch and scooping up his guitar in one swift move. 

“Of course I’m sure, now sit.”

She let herself fall onto the couch, kicking off the crocs that still hugged her feet as she pulled her legs up underneath her. He placed his guitar down gently, leaning it up against the arm chair holding his hands out in front of is as if telling it to stay put and not fall over. A sigh slipped past Jakes lips as he turned back to her, her arm thrown over her eyes to block the light from seeping past her eyelids. He took a few steps towards the kitchen, turning back to ruffle her hair and scratch at her scalp once more before making his way into the kitchen. 

~*~*~

“Ah, fuck.” 

He jumped backwards as the plate he had teetered precariously on the edge of the sink slipped, crashing to the ground and shattering into a hundred pieces. He sighed, feet glued to the spot he was standing in as he assessed the damaged, shards of glass scattered all across the kitchen floor. Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth he reached up, scratching the back of his neck as he eyed the broom and dust pan halfway across the room. He ran a hand down his face, silently cursing himself for being so clumsy as his eyes snapped to the break in the wall leading to the living room. A sheepish smile played on his lips as he saw her leaning up against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest. 

“I’m so sorry, babe. Can you hand me the broom and dust pan please?” He asked, pointing in the direction of what he needed. She shook her head, snatching up the broom and dust pan, leaning the free standing dust pan up against the kitchen table before she started sweeping. 

“I got it, just finish what you were doing.” She mumbled, shooting him a meaningful smile before he turned back to the counter to continue putting their left overs away. 

She sighed as she grabbed for the stand up dust pan that sat behind her, the broom resting in her left hand. She turned her body and in one swift movement her grip on the broom faltered causing the handle of the broom to whack into her lip. A soft gasp escaped her as his eyes snapped to her having seen the broom snap in her direction in his peripheral vision.

“Oww.” She whined, reaching up to cup her jaw in her palm. A soft chuckle escaped him, picking the broom up off of the floor, sweeping the remnants of the broken plate into the dustpan. 

“How do you manage to do these things?” Another chuckle escaped him as his gaze met hers, the smile slipping off his face almost instantly. 

Her eyes were wide, tears threatening to spill over her lids as she placed her finger inside her bottom lip, checking for broken skin and blood. She pushed her bottom lip out in a pout as she brought her right hand up, resting it over her right eye as her head throbbed. His expression matched hers, stepping forward he wrapped her in his arms, bringing his hand up to rub the side of her head soothingly. 

“I’m sorry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean to laugh.”  She shrugged her shoulders, wrapping her arms around his midsection as she buried her face as far as she could into his chest. 

“It’s okay, you can laugh at my misfortune.” He chuckled, shaking his head before pressing a kiss into the crown of her head. 

“Stop it, you know if you didn’t have a headache you’d be giggling at that too.” 

For the first time that night a smile spread across her face as a soft giggle escaped her, nodding in agreement to his statement. She pulled her head back, wincing as the fluorescent kitchen light shot a lightening bolt of pain through her temple. 

“Yeah, I’d probably be laughing my ass off if my head didn’t feel like it was going to split.” She lifted up on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He smiled down at her, peppering kisses over her cheeks and nose as his hand continued to rub soothing circles into her scalp. 

“Go get comfy and lay down, I’ll be there in a second.” He cooed, capturing her lips in a soft kiss before pulling back. 

With a slight nod of her head she turned on her heel, slowly making her way to their shared bedroom. She welcomed the darkness of the room, opting to change into her pajamas and climb into bed in the dark; knowing full well he would be flipping on the bedside lap as soon as he came in. 

The soft pad of his bare feet caused her to stir, her eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the darkness, making out his silhouette as he stepped over the threshold. He instinctively reached for the light switch, going to flip on the overhead light as a soft whine slipped past her lips. 

“Not the big light, please.” She whispered, throwing the pillow over her eyes in case he didn’t hear her. A mumbled ‘sorry’ slipped past his lips as he pulled out his phone, using the soft illumination of the screen to see where he was going. He made quick work of getting ready for bed,

ridding himself of his pants as he plugged his phone in; tripping over his own feet as he tried to kick his jeans to the side and landing on the bed causing her head to jolt against the pillow. 

“That’s what I get for trying to keep you comfortable.” He grumbled, reaching down to tug the jeans off of his foot and toss them to the side. A sigh slipped past her lips as she sat up, fixing her mountain of pillows while he swung his legs up into the bed, laying back against the headboard and getting comfortable. 

“It’s okay.” 

Jake held his arm out to her, jerking his head to the side in a silent question. She leaned into him, nuzzling her face into his neck, breathing in a scent that was unmistakably him. He sighed as he let his hand tangle in her hair once more, knowing the only thing she’d be searching for was his fingers dancing across her scalp as she let sleep overtake her. A sigh slipped past her lips as she tossed her arm over his midsection and wiggled her ankle underneath his as her leg lay across his. 

“Yknow I appreciate everything you do for me right?” She mumbled, her tone becoming deeper as sleep threatened to overtake her. He nodded, turning his head slightly and pressing soft kisses against her forehead. 

“I know, sweet girl. Now get some sleep so your head feels better.” He chuckled, never ceasing the soft circles he was rubbing against the side of her head. Her fingers danced lazily over his side, sending shivers up his spine. 

“I love you.” She mumbled, tipping her head slightly and pressing a soft kiss into his jawline. 

“I love you too. Now, shhh.” He reached over with his free hand, pressing his index finger against her lips to silence her. She couldn’t help but giggle, knew he meant well. 

She nuzzled her face farther into the junction of his neck, breathing a sigh of relief to finally be in bed wrapped in his arms. Jakes nimble fingers continued to dance over her scalp, alternating between rubbing circles into her skin and gently threading her hair through his fingers until her breathing became shallow and even, indicating to him that she had finally fallen asleep. He pressed one more kiss to her forehead as he shifted downwards, resting his chin against the crown of her head and willing sleep to envelope him. 

~*~*

She woke with a start, bolting upright in bed as a lightening bolt of pain shot through her head. Her stomach lurched, a wave of nausea crashing over her as she tossed back the covers and bolted from the bed. Her sudden movement startling Jake awake as the bathroom door slammed shut. A groan slipped past his lips as he cracked his eyes open, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. 

3:25 a.m

“Babe? What’s going on?” He croaked, sitting up in bed as he heard the shower turn on. He stood from the bed, a sigh slipping past his lips as realization hit him. Bare feet padding down the hall was for only noise that could be heard over the shower running. A few gentle knocks delivered to the bathroom door before he turned the knob and gently pushed the door open. 

She sat on the floor in front of the toilet, knees pulled up to her chest as she held her fist against her mouth; silently willing the nausea away. Her eyes were screwed shut, anxiety etched in the lines around her eyes as he turned off the shower, sinking to his knees behind her. 

Gentle hands pulled her hair backwards over her shoulders, gathering it all in one of his hands as he ran his other through it, gently detangling it. A shiver danced up her spine causing her stomach to lurch once more. She shook her head lightly, swallowing thickly past the lump that was forming in her throat, her mouth beginning to water incessantly. 

“Are you okay?” His voice a gentle rasp against the otherwise silence of the night. She shook her head, trying to get her mind to shift its focus to his fingers trailing through her hair. 

“Your head still?” She nodded slightly, the movement being just enough to trigger her stomach to turn once more. A cough bubbled up her throat as she lunged forward, hands slamming down on each side of the toilet as her stomach emptied its contents into the bowl. A soft sigh slipped past Jakes lips as he scooted forward, rubbing his free hand up and down her back. 

“It’s alright, sweet girl.” He cooed, hand slipping under the hem of her sleep shirt as she sat back, reaching for something to wipe her mouth with. Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks as she leaned back into him, head resting against his shoulder. He pressed soft kisses into her temple, reaching the hand placed on her back around her, resting it on her stomach. 

“I’m sorry.” She croaked out, pulling a deep breath through her nose as her eyes fluttered shut; willing her heart to stop pounding in her chest. His brows furrowed, shooting her a confused glance out of his peripheral vision. 

“For getting sick?” He asked, fingers dancing lightly over her stomach, the skin sticky with perspiration. She nodded, the tense muscles of her stomach finally relaxing as the nausea subsided. 

“It’s so gross, I hate when you have to witness it.” She mumbled, finally relaxing every tense muscle in her body. He chuckled, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. 

“I mean, you’re not wrong it is gross. But love makes you do things you typically wouldn’t.” He shrugged, slipping his hand out from under her shirt to brush back the hairs that fell in her face. 

“Aww you love me? Even with vomit breath?” A genuine laugh slipped past her lips as she pulled away from him, moving to pull herself into a standing position. 

“Even with vomit breath.” He chuckled, cupping her elbows in his hands and pulling her up with him as he stood. 

She spun where she stood, wrapping her arms around his midsection as she rested her head on his chest. He was stunned for a second, arms held out at his sides as he glanced down at her before slowing snaking his arms around her shoulders. Her grip on him tightened, burying her face further into the soft material of his shirt. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss into the crown of her head.

“You really needed a hug, huh?” He cooed, reaching up to cradle the back of her head in his hand. She shook her head lightly, a soft sigh slipping past her lips as his nails scratched gently at her scalp. 

“No, I really needed you. It’s just, you make everything bearable and I don’t think I could do this without you anymore. No one’s ever loved on me enough to help me through an intense migraine before. You don’t just tell me it’s all in my head.” She mumbled, tilting her head back so her chin was resting on his chest. 

“Well it is all in your head, no?” A soft smile spread across his lips as her jaw dropped open, feigning shock. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Brush your teeth and come back to bed, vomit breath.” She shook her head, pressing her hands to her chest as she pushed him backwards towards their room. 

_________ Taglist: @jordierama​

[softguarnere]

Hello 😭 I really love your bofb fanfics and headcanons!! They are really awesome ✨ Also, I wonder if you could write a headcanon with Speirs, Luz, Liebgott, Roe, Welsh and Babe about the male reader being hurted during the battle and how they would react to that 😭😭? If yes, then thank you so, so much <33

Hi Anon! Thank you so much, I'm so glad that you enjoy them 🤗 I don't think I've ever written anything with Harry before, so I hope his turned out okay

Speirs

As an officer, Speirs would probably make a point of not showing favoritism towards you

But that becomes very difficult when he hears that you were wounded on the patrol

His reaction would probably be similar to how he reacted when Grant was shot

Letting the façade slip ever so slightly, the willingness to show a little more emotion in front of his men because someone he cares about was just hurt

When he gets to you, he definitely stays there the entire time, the medics working under his eagle-eyed watch

He's not trying to intimidate them or anything - he's just stressed out and waiting for the chance to talk to you

"You look mad," you note when you're finally alone.

Immediately, Ron's face softens. "Sorry. I've just been worrying about you."

"I know. You're not nearly so callous as everyone makes you out to be." You smile, teasing, even though you've just been hurt - your ability to find a bright side or the humor in a situation is one of the things that Ron admires and loves most about you. "Be careful though, Sparky. If too many people see you caring about me, it might ruin that heartless reputation of yours."

He can't help but laugh. For you, he would do anything, no matter what it did to his reputation

Luz

After what happened to Muck and Penkala, the thought of anyone he cares about getting hurt makes Luz feel sick to his stomach

And when he hears you're wounded? The color just drains from his face because he fears the worst

Luckily, you're not too hurt

(So then why is adrenaline coursing through his veins like he's preparing to run a marathon?)

When you see him come to the aid station, you flash him a smile. He tries, really, to return it, but it comes out as something closer to a grimace

"You come to cheer me up Luz?"

He's more than happy to see that you're okay, but he can't find it in him to crack any sort of joke to make you feel better

Instead, he presses a quick kiss to your temple. "Don't go scaring me like that again."

Liebgott

Okay it's during Bastogne and Liebgott has just gotten back from being Winters' runner for the day

At first when he realizes that you're not in your foxhole, he thinks that you've gone to make the rounds and visit your friends

Only he can't find you anywhere

Finally, Doc Roe tells him that you caught some shrapnel and were taken into the town

He's never seen Joe's eyes so wide, seen him so speechless, seen him scared, even - no one has

He guides Liebgott back into Bastogne so that he can see you

Joe is calm until he reaches the church and sees you, then he's power walking to the cot you sit on and has you in his arms in a second, holding you tight

"Are you okay?" He asks, and when you tell him that you are, he wants to make sure. "Promise?"

"I am. Are you?"

He squeezes your hand. "I am now."

Roe

As the company's medic, he's the first to arrive when he hears someone yell for help

But he feels like his heart stops beating when he realizes that the person who's hurt is you

For a moment he freezes. Spina is by his side, asking, "Do you want me to take this one?"

Somehow, that spurs Gene into action, helping patch you up as quickly as he can

Prepare to have your own personal doctor for the next few days, because he's constantly checking in with you to make sure that you're okay

"I never doubted that I would recover," you joke after the war is over and everyone is more capable of talking about certain events. You offer Gene a smile and a wink. "I mean, how could I not heal with the world's best medic taking care of me?"

No matter how much time passes, it never fails to make him blush

Welsh

No okay but I feel like he would be a lot more calm than everyone expects?

Like, the other officers don't know what he's going to do when he hears the news, but they feel like Harry is going to run off to find you the moment they tell him

He does leave when he hears that you're hurt, but he handles the whole thing very well

He asks the medics very clear questions about your condition, asks you how you feel, etc.

It's not until after the war that you find out why he was so calm

"I didn't want to scare you," he admits. "Because it felt appropriate that only one of us could freak out, and as the wounded man, it was your right."

Luckily, you both remained calm, managing to avoid scaring each other over the incident

But not a day goes by, even after the war, where Harry doesn't breathe a sigh of relief over the fact that you're okay

Babe

Who can blame him, really, for being worried after he's lost so many of his friends in Bastogne?

Babe would rush to your side the minute that he heard you were wounded - and he would remain there until he was perfectly certain that you're okay

He would be asking Doc Roe a hundred questions, trying to make sure that you're okay

Probably wouldn't let you out of his sight for the rest of the war. I mean, he almost lost someone else that he cares about, and he's not about to let that happen

In Austria, you ask him about it. You love him, but you feel bad that he worries for you so much

When the end of the war is announced, you can't help but smile at him. "Well, Babe, all that determination paid off - I made it to the end."

"Yeah," he would laugh. "All thanks to me."

He means it as a joke, but seeing how much he cared about you really made all the difference. You kiss him on the cheek. "All thanks to you," you agree

Thanks for the request, Anon, and I hope you like these! 💕🕊️

[possibilistfanfiction]

Ava and beatrice foster-fail and adopt a dog, bea’s first concert, idk, one of them goes to the dentist?? Also I know you’re in LA but would love to see them in a Winter Situation haha

'bea,' you say, 'hey, what's wrong?'

she's obviously stressed, sitting very still behind the desk in her home office, clenching her jaw, a little bit of her hair sticking up from, you presume, a nervous tic of running her hands through it.

'is it really bad?'

'the worst,' she says, in such a dramatic way that you know it's all actually fine. the war has been over, now, for a few months — there are leftover battles, loose ends to tie up from time to time, but her pouting seems to be more about — 'it's time for my semiannual dental cleaning. next tuesday, at 2 pm.'

'oh, well, that's chill, right?' the last time you'd been to the dentist, mostly upon bea's insistence, your dentist, dr. pang, had been cool and had even let you look in the toybox usually reserved for kids once you'd finished. maybe because of the halo or just dumb luck, but you hadn't had any cavities. 'you brush your teeth with that fancy toothbrush, like, three times a day, with your little timer. i'm sure your teeth are perfect.'

it doesn't help: beatrice just grimaces. 'i — i just don't like the dentist.'

'that's okay. sometimes we just don't like shit, you know. do you want me to come with? we can get lunch after or something.'

'you would —' she pauses; you'd talked about this recently, in couples counseling, how when you offer to do something for her, it's because you love her, because you want to, and nothing generative comes, for either of you, from her denying what she wants. 'i would actually like that, quite a lot.'

'okay then,' you say. 'next tuesday at 2 pm — you, me, and dr. pang's cool toybox.'

/

you realize very quickly on tuesday at 1:50 pm that 'i don't like the dentist' is a euphemism for 'i'm absolutely terrified of the dentist,' because beatrice is about to break your hand and also vibrate out of her own skin as soon as she pulls into the parking lot.

'do you want to do some grounding exercises or something?'

'no, ava,' she says, irritated, but then gathers herself. 'sorry. no, i'm fine.’ you raise a brow and she just huffs. 'i just don't like someone being that close to my face.'

'you have no problems with me being that close to your face. just imagine that dr. pang is me.'

it gets her to laugh, reluctantly, but you're sure she is imagining it. 'that's more terrifying, actually.'

'okay, me with a degree in dentistry. important edit if you're unwilling to have any imagination.'

she just rolls her eyes.

'you're gonna be just fine,' you say. 'and i'll be there the entire time, okay?'

'yeah,' she says, dragging a hand through her hair and then smoothing it down carefully, checking her reflection in the visor mirror once, and then setting her shoulders like she's about to go into battle; you stifle a laugh; you love her. 'okay.'

/

'you have someone to drive you home and take care of you today? you shouldn't have any pain, but you'll be a little out of it.'

bea nods, stiffly, but then points at where you're sitting in the corner of the waiting room. 'my partner, yes.'

'looking forward to the part where she'll be a little out of it, honestly.'

bea rolls her eyes at you while the receptionist laughs, and then, when bea is done with any paperwork, she comes and sits next to you. you lace your fingers together. 'you know, you've had, like, pretty bad injuries and surgeries and stuff, right?'

'yes, ava, obviously i know that.' she pinches the bridge of her nose. 'it doesn't help me, in this situation, to compare. i know it's — it's not logical, to be so afraid of a cavity filling.'

'nah.' you squeeze her hand. 'that's not what i was gonna say.' you smile at her, like you're not at the dentist's office, like you're out by the beach in the morning after she's surfed and you'd brought donuts and coffee and kiss her and shoo the gulls away. 'i just meant that, you know, i've been scared during those, but i got to hold you afterward and help. and i know you're feeling really scared, but i can be brave for you right now, and then i get to spend all day holding you and taking care of you. which, beatrice, i love to do. okay?'

she tucks her head into your neck, just for a second, just like heaven, and then nods. 'i love you. okay.'

/

bea is ... laughing. at nothing, you're pretty sure, if the blank tv is anything to go off of; she'd fallen asleep in the car on the way home but the second you got her situated on the couch she'd just started, well, giggling, and she hasn't stopped.

'what's so silly?'

she rolls her head toward you, sloppily, and you are so grateful for this time, for this life, for this life: beatrice trusts you — to build a home, and to keep her safe. 'everything,' she says, and then snorts, which makes her laugh even harder.

you smile and kiss her forehead. 'i promised camila i'd record this. keep going, whatever you're vibing with.'

she happily tells a very rambling story about the time you'd tried to make pasta from scratch, interjected with some non-sequitur facts about flamingos, giggling the entire time. she's in her favorite hoodie and joggers and had, very intensely, insisted on taking her socks off. you send the video to camila when she seems to finish on her own, trailing off and then just staring at you with a helpless little smile on her face.

'ava?'

'yes, bea?'

'first, you're so beautiful. i love you so much. can you believe there was ever a time i thought i could spend my entire life not acting on my desires of the flesh?'

you decide to just roll with it. 'honestly? no. you're, like, the gayest person i've ever met.'

'you're jealous when women flirt with me at the bar or the beach.'

you roll your eyes, let yourself trace her freckles and the gentle slope of her nose, scratch your nails gently against the buzzed sides of her hair. 'mostly for fun,' you say. 'i know you're coming home with me at the end of the night.'

'always.'

'did you have a second?'

'what?'

'well, you said first, so, i'm not sure where you were going after that.'

'oh,' she says, and then squints into the distance, like she's trying really hard to remember. 'can we please order thai tonight. i'm thinking about it always, in the back of my mind.'

'always?'

'oh, yes,' she says. 'that green curry fried rice i had last time?' she kisses her fingers and then holds them out. 'life changing.'

you laugh and grab her hand from the air, tuck it against your cheek and kiss her knuckles. 'as long as you let me have the extra spring roll.'

'you know i always let you do that.'

'yeah,' you say, 'you do.'

'ava?'

'yeah, bea?'

'i could tell you that i love you in every language ever spoken and it would never be enough.' she puts your joined hands to her chest. 'there are no words, for how i feel for you.'

you kiss her, even though she tastes kind of weird after her cavity filling. 'i love you too, in all the universes.' i came back for you, you mean, but you don't say it aloud, not now, not when it's sunny and warm and she's open before you, herself. 'now, why don't you nap. i'll turn on something exceedingly dull so you don't get distracted. and i'll order thai.'

'you're the best. i can't wait to marry you one day.'

it makes you feel warm; the halo hums. 'that'll be the best day.'

/

'ava.'

'hmm?'

bea stalks out to where you're drinking coffee on the balcony, the sun already at its mid-morning warmth. she means to look intimidating but she has on a pair of little striped sleep shorts and an old crewneck sweater, one sleeve pulled over her hand and the other pushed up to her elbow; her hair is sticking up around the cowlick in the back, like it always does after she's gotten a fresh haircut and sleeps in.

'what did you send to the group chat?'

'oh, you were in excellent form yesterday,' you say, not sorry at all. 'had a lot of opinions on flamingos and margot robbie. gotta say, can't even hold that one against you. she'd be a great choice for a threesome, i agree.'

'i did not say that.'

her blush is bright and goes all the way down her neck, to the tips of her ears. 'nah, you didn't.' she slumps in relief and you laugh. 'but now i know you think it, which is fun.'

'so... these videos of me, medicated, are — innocuous?'

'yeah, i didn't send the one where you went into detail about you riding my face to our friends who are nuns.'

she sits on the chair next to yours and buries her face in her hands. 'was i a pain?'

'not at all,' you say, and smooth a hand down her spine and then rest it on her neck and massage the tension sitting there. 'you were cute. i like taking care of you.'

'well, i feel coherent today.'

'that's good, they said everything should be normal.'

'i'm sorry,' she says, 'for being scared, and then for being so high.'

you wave her off. 'don't ever apologize for being scared. maybe, at some point, you can apologize if you like, willingly eat too much of an edible or something, but don't apologize for needing meds to help you. i love you.'

she smiles softly. 'thank you.'

'i love you, bea,' you say. 'you gotta understand, okay? i love you, i love you, i love you.'

she kisses you, softly, and she tastes like regular toothpaste and home.

'i do want to state, for the record, though, that i have never had a cavity, and now, you have had two.'

she groans. 'don't remind me.'

[glacierheart]

﹡ ... ‹ continued from here , with @scretgardens ›

and  she  still  wasn't  leaving.  great.  it  added  to  his  already  frustrations  and  stress  that  was  there  as  he  laid  on  his  side  trying  to  catch  his  breath,   how  humiliating.  downplaying  his  wounds  didn't  work  so  now  he  had  to  just  blatantly  lie.  ❝  i'm  fine. ❞  a  ridiculous  claim  as  he's  actively  in  the  middle  of  holding  onto  his  shoulder,  grimacing  and  blood  staining  the  torn  cloth  at  the  back  of  his  dark  blue  coat, darkening the fabric even deeper with crimson.  his  father  had  sliced  his  skin  right  open  with  that  sword  of  ice  he  threw  at  him  in  his  fit  of  rage.  then  another  wound  he  earned  located  right  below  his  ribcage.  and  he  was  sweating  profusely,  over  heating  in  this  coat he was trapped in ...  it  was  like  an  INFERNO  here.  jeez.  compared  to  his  climate  he  was  accustomed  to.  

❝  no,  ❞  caspian  managed  to  get  out  with  a  small  shake  of  his  head  as  he  stared  down  at  the  grass,  hand  clutched  onto  his  shoulder  to  keep  some  of  the  pain  tamed.  he  didn't  want  to  even  risk  her  ––  whoever  she  may  be  interfering  let  alone  lead  him  to  a  nurse.  that  could  lead  him  to  even  worse  state  than  the  one  he  was  in  now,  because  what  if  they  figure  out  who  he  is  and  where  he's  from?  he  can't  risk  that.  ❝  it's  just  a  little  scratch.  ❞  he  chuckles  weakly,  wiping  the  blood  from  underneath  his  nose.  

❝  it'll  go  away,  eventually. ❞  not  without  proper  care,  it  won't.  but  he  was  trying  to  think  of  another  way  he  could  tend  to  his  wounds  without  anyone  finding  out.  ❝  just  an  argument  with  a  bear.  ❞  the  winter  prince  casually throws as an  answer,  attempting  to  push  himself  up  off  the  grass,  all  he  could  get  a  glimpse  of  was  her  feet  since  he  didn't  want  anyone to look at him  in  the  shape  he  was  in.  ❝  okay.  well.  thank  you,  evangeline.  but  you  should  run  along  now.  i  have  to  go  find  my  horse,  after  i  lost  him  a  few  moments  ago...  and  you  shouldn't  be  here.  ❞

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 8 - CHANGE

Matchstick goes to confront the Silver Fang, and...

everything changes.

~*~

Mystic

It’s a good thing the inclement weather had made drone appearances less likely, or his frustrated tromping through the snow might have gotten him caught right then and there. The sudden stress had caused his footsteps to dissolve the snow around his ankles even faster, leaving a trail of melted prints in their wake.

He reaches the second burrow, and yep, the beast is still in there. Curled up like a big pinecone, it lifts its head at the sound of his approach, blinking blearily in the sharp winter light. They look dozy and quizzical at his return.

Spooky

He doesn't slow in his approach until he's standing right at the entrance. He wasn't sure it would be good to go further in, and they could see each other well enough from here.

Looking upset, he holds the tattered shirt up so the silver beast can see it. In fact he seems so distraught that he tries to force words out of his mouth for the second time in months.

"Kh... D did... You...?" It sounded awful, especially since he was trying to raise his voice. It came out as more of a growl than a rasp, but still barely any actual voice, and it was audibly strained.

Mystic

The beast, seeing the shirt, goes still. It looks at the shirt, then at him. Their expression was the closest approximation to ‘biting their lip’ that a muzzle could make.

At his stuttered question- or, half-question- the silver beast slowly looks away, staring at the wall as though trying to do some sort of mental calculation. It side-eyes him. The claws on its front limbs fidget, creating a low clacking sound. Despite the behavior of someone caught misbehaving, there’s still confusion through the nervousness.

Then, very slowly, it lifts the joints of its shoulders up and down, frowning.

What was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t sure? How could you not be sure if you killed someone?? Or- it didn’t know what he meant, because he didn’t specify what they did?

Spooky

He looked at the silver beast and stood there with steam puffing out his mouth for a few more seconds. His voice did not want to keep going, but he swallowed and tried to continue.

"Eh... Eat?" He managed, sounding somewhere between a vaguely human voice and two rocks scraping together. His expression was more like a grimace now from the attempt to force words out, one of his eyes squinched almost shut and the corner of his mouth drawn back to the point where there was actually a rare glimpse of fang.

Mystic

…

The creature stares at him. Gears click into place. Realization dawns.

As if a silent bubble had popped in the atmosphere, their cheeks puff out with barely contained air, which burst out into rhythmic, high-pitched wheezing sounds.

W-

Were they laughing at him?

The silver thing leans forward over its own tail, struggling to breathe as the edges of their mouth curve up in a full-toothed smile of glee and utter relief. They lift a paw to wipe tears from the edge of their golden eye. Gasping breaths, still trying not to laugh, they look up at him and shake their pointed head back and forth.

No? They didn’t?

Spooky

He dropped his hands to his sides at that reaction, tilting his head in bafflement. If the silver beast didn't eat that person then what happened? Why wasn't the fish person there, but their truck was still there?

Still, being laughed at when he was upset didn't make him feel any better, and he frowned in response.

"Ffii-" he started, trying to ask if they got into a fight or something, but his voice gave out and devolved into smokey coughs.

Mystic

The scratchy cough, followed by smoke, allows the beast to finally get its breath back. They inhale and exhale deeply, calming down from their mirth. Dirt shuffles underneath them as they uncoil from the cinnamon bun position. The beast starts climbing its way out of the hole, returning to the entrance where he was standing.

Brow ridges furrowed, they inspect him. They appear to be concerned by the puff of smoke.

Kneeling down, they lift their paws and scoop some snow off the ground. Rolling a small ball out of the powder, they nudge it toward him with their snout.

Spooky

He managed to stop coughing enough to pick up the snowball, taking a bite. It hissed loudly in his mouth as it rapidly melted, and he popped the rest of the snow in after it. The drink seemed to help a little bit, he'd been feeling especially dried out for some reason since it got colder out.

Still- there it was, the silver beast being nice again. His glowing eyes glanced from the beast's face to the shirt, then back, his own brow furrowed in a rather conflicted expression. As silly as the conclusion he'd jumped to was, he was still worried...

Mystic

The beast exhales a huff, nodding once. They appear satisfied that he drank something, though they don't quite understand the steam, watching it drift upwards curiously.

Their attention returns to him, golden eyes inspecting him. Reading him.

They turn their head left and right, as though looking for something. Checking to make sure it was clear. Of what, he didn't know. People? Maybe.

The beast hauls its weight back up into standing position, turning around to sweep its tail over the ground. The whoosh of snow clears out all their footprints- save for the ones he melted- and makes a blank canvas of white. Shaking the tail off, they spin to sit back down, and start scratching in the snow with a claw or two. They struggle for a moment. Their digits aren't as dexterous as they'd prefer, and he can see them attempting to flex their padded claws in ways they simply didn't want to.

A series of lines are scratched into the ground, forming a coherent message.

KEEP SECRET?

Spooky

He craned his neck, trying to see what the silver beast was doing with their claws. Digging? Wait, no- drawing something? Then when they stopped, his eyes widened when he saw them. Words!

He was still a little rusty with them, though he had improved somewhat since leaving the lab- going near the town at least allowed him more things that he could read, usually colorful words on buildings or up on sticks near the paths that the trucks took. Sometimes there were words on the trucks too, though usually it was a jumble that he had no chance of comprehending... While he didn't make a noise, he quietly mouthed out the sounds the letters made as he pieced the words together. 'KEEP... SE- ... SEE-CRET'.

That little mark at the end, too, told him it was a question. The beast wanted to know if he would keep a secret?

He looked back up at them and nodded. It wasn't like he even really had anyone else to tell it to, even if he wanted to.

Mystic

The beast puffs a breath out its snout, and leans forward to wipe the snow clean again with a paw. It starts scratching a second time.

ME

They pull back and gesture to themselves with the other paw.

More scratching. This time, a shape. It looked like a stick person of some kind, albeit a rough rendition due to the difficulty the beast was having.

A second shape, next to it. This one was spiky, and hunched over with a tail.

They drew an arrow between the two, going from the stick person to the spiky thing.

The beast then taps at the word again with the same paw.

Spooky

It was... confusing. Not necessarily the message the beast was trying to get across- the visual aid definitely helped him figure out what they were saying well enough, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd... understood it right?

Looking even more confused than before, he held up the shirt like he was trying to figure out how the silver beast would be able to fit into it.

How could they be the same person?? He knew Aria had been able to turn people into monsters, at least from the limited amount of things he saw about other experiments... And, well... he wasn't entirely sure if he was always like this, himself...

But to be able to change back? ...And forth? Regularly?

Mystic

The beast gazes upon the shirt with a forlorn rumble, their frilled ears pinning back to their skull. They rotate their body slightly, so the kid can get a better view of their spine-covered back. The plates move slightly to stand on end, rather than rest flat against their back. Wrapped around one of the plates, now that he can see it up close, is a tattered fragment of the same blue fabric. It was torn and stretched, barely hanging on.

The beast stretches up to scratch at it, grunting in mild annoyance when they can’t reach. They give up, and go back to scratching a new message.

CANT CONTROL SLEEP GO BACK

…

USUALLY

Spooky

Oh, shit...

He kneels down to try and write something too, but his body heat and the slow carefulness of his scrawl just kind of melts the snow before he can really form words in it. He huffs out a breath and starts trying to look around him for a stick or something he could use instead, though in the meantime, he looks back up at her and manages a very raspy "Why?"

Mystic

At that, the beast sits back, pondering. This was a lot more complicated to explain than scratched half-sentences would convey. They reach forward and sweep it clean again, before continuing this communication through art.

MISTAKE

They draw another stick person, and next to it, some sort of spiny creature much like the one they used to depict themselves. And yet, there was something different about that shape.

They draw the odd spiny one lunging, with cartoonishly large triangles for teeth, latching onto the person's arm.

BITTEN

The stick person, lying on the ground.

Spikes jutting from the back of the stick person.

CHANGE

Spooky

He ponders this quietly, not really having any prior knowledge of lycanthropy to go on... The concept of changing due to a bite was a new one to him. So were there more silver beasts out there somewhere that were biting people?

Still... He couldn't imagine how painful it would be to have metal plates erupt from your skin. It sucked enough to have metal things poked into it, but those were a LOT of spikes. He winced at the thought.

Finally locating a stick, he carefully scrawled out

HOW OFTIN?

Mystic

The beast taps at their muzzle with one claw, thinking.

RANDOM

Oh. Well that explained why the beast hadn't shown up for a while- she simply hadn't changed in that time.

IF STRESSED CHANGE

They drew what could best be approximated as a scared face, followed by pointing at the previous drawing of presumably them changing shape.

HAPPENS WHENEVER DAY WEEK MONTHS CANT STOP IT

The beast shrugs again.

Spooky

Oh...

While on one hand it seemed like it would be nice to be able to change into a person and go into town and do people things, the fact that it happened at random was a scary one. What if they changed back in the town? It would be harder for something that big to hide, too...

He started to write S... O... R...

...Did it have one r or two? Shit. Wait... Uh... Two! It had two, right?

SORRE

....huh. Still didn't seem right...

Mystic

Another quiet snort of amusement to his right. The beast is smiling again, with their muzzled face that's clearly not built to smile, and is doing its best.

They bump his nearest shoulder with the top of their head, nudging him.

Guess that was their acknowledgment- or rejection- of his apology. He didn't have a hand in their situation, and they both knew it.

...the beast watches him for a moment, before wiping the snow smooth again and writing once more.

YOU COLD HUNGRY ALONE?

Spooky

He flushed, a strange orange hue glowing on his cheeks. He wasn't expecting them to get right to the meat of his situation, but it did remind him that if this was the fish lady, they had been the one leaving food out for him for, uh... well, a LOT of days. More than he could count. AND gave him these soft things to help him stay warm.

He pulled the cloth rectangle up a little more and huddled in it, not really sure how much he could, or even should, say.

But, they had proven pretty trustworthy. At least, the most out of anyone else he'd run into.

He shrugged a little, and wrote out

RUNING HIDING

then, after a small pause

THANKS FOR HELP

Mystic

It's not a lot of information, but it's enough for the beast. They nod in response, looking down at his message.

THANKS FOR NOT SCREAM OR GET COPS

They stretch their back, causing the metallic plates to realign with a clatter. Shaking snow off their head, the beast writes one last message.

SLEEP NOW TRY CHANGE TOO COLD

With a creaky heave of their metal-plated body, the beast shakes themselves off again. More white powder snow showers off of their body. Flakes had begun to flit down from the sky, which meant the snow was going to get even thicker. She squints up at the thick clouds, puffs a sigh from her nose, and turns in defeat to slink into the burrow. It wasn't much better than being out in the open, but it was at least an overhang.

Shudders run through her body as she coils up at the back of the den for the second time that day, attempting to get warm and comfortable in a hole in the ground on a winter day.

Spooky

'Cops'? What were those?

He didn't get a chance to ask though, because it seemed like the cold was getting to them. He stood and watched as the silver beast turned around and sleepily trundled back into their den.

Tossing the stick aside, he started to head back to his own den... but hesitated, glancing back at the beast.

They seemed pretty cold still, like a big shivering pinecone. He hesitated, not sure if he was welcome to do so, but he knew he was pretty warm... so he climbed down into the den with them. He took his cloth rectangle, and while he wasn't able to really drape it over their back, he did his best to try and cover what he could of the claws and snoot with the warm cloth.

Mystic

The beast had quietly ignored the sound of him sliding down into the burrow after them, but the moment they draped the blanket up and over their head, their ears perked up. It looked like a pair of antenna comically poking up from underneath, and the blanket rippled as the creature shifted about underneath in confusion. They managed to slide one paw out from underneath the fabric, and pat it around the den floor.

Once it makes contact with his side, the clawed digits proceed to wrap around his torso, engulfing him in the grip. The beast pulls him closer in a tug that was far stronger than it looked, and yet was careful and didn't cause any pain. He is tugged right up to the side of the beast's front, where he had placed the blanket, which is then nosed off of their face to fall back over him.

He can feel as the long plated tail shifts around the body of the beast, this time cupping around the both of them. The thick physical barrier prevents cold wind from reaching them.

The beast is giving him a gentle look, rumbling quietly. Without the writing on the ground, it's no longer possible to directly translate, but it could be interpreted as some form of thanks, and perhaps a reassurance. They'd be safe from the dangers of the outside for today- at the very least, for now.

Spooky

While he was startled at being pulled in closer, it soon became clear why, once he was situated next to them and the tail curled in. He had to wriggle a little to where he was seated more comfortably- and to get the blanket off of his face after they flopped it back onto him- but he soon settled, finding this arrangement surprisingly comfy. The beast did have a lot of fur under those plates, which was soft enough that it felt like more blanket.

And while he wasn't feeling particularly sleepy, he didn't mind just staying here like this. Heck, he was warmer than the blanket was, and this felt nicer than laying on the ground by himself.

It was strange, but for once, as he felt the slow, gentle rise and fall of the breathing wall of fur he was resting up against... it was nice not to feel well and truly alone anymore.

Mystic

Satisfied, the beast closes its eyes again, and nestles back down to rest.

Wind passes by the opening of the burrow, creating a low whistle combined with the rustle of the last autumn leaves. Cozy atmosphere inside prevented the weather's chill from reaching too far into the den. It also helped that the lost teen was pretty much a living space heater.

...

After some time of slow breathing, he can feel the beast next to him start to shift.

The tail, which had served as a large blockade around the both of them, began to slide across the dirt like a snake. It was ever so gradually getting smaller. The pinecone pelt of silver plates also starts to retract, each individual hunk of metal falling down into a neat orderly pattern of scales that bloom with teal color as they shrank. The claws and thick digging paws lose their weight.

Just like she claimed, she was changing back in her sleep.

Spooky

He sat up, not wanting to fall back on her as she reverted back to fish-person form. It was kind of fascinating to watch, though realizing she might be cold and didn't seem to have any clothes left save for the scraps that had been caught in her plates, he took the blanket and draped it over her shrinking form once she was small enough for it to cover.

Not wanting to wake her, though, in case it would make her change back again or something, he moved to sit back against the dirt wall instead, blinking out towards the bright light filtering in from the entrance now that the tail was no longer blocking it out.

Mystic

The blanket proved to be necessary, as the shivering started back up once the coat of fur diminished. All the fluff was replaced by more, tinier scales of varying teal shades, that did absolutely nothing to block out the winter cold.

Perhaps the most drastic change was the profile of the head, which remained visible outside of the blanket. Pointed snout and animal muzzle draw back into a humanoid jaw line and facial features, with several of the silver plates on the head turning back into plant-mimicry 'hair'. The ears, though, remain mostly the same, shrinking just a little to lose some of the pointiness.

By the time the changes stopped, she was-

-well damn she was smaller than him, actually. Now that he wasn't running in terror or getting ambushed from a pond, she was tiny in profile. The blanket covered most of her, but curled up underneath it, she took up less real estate than he remembered doing. He couldn't tell her actual height on the ground like this, but still. Small.

...what now?

Spooky

A part of him wondered if he should stick around, but... It kinda didn't feel right to just leave. He hadn't expected her to be this small and... He knew nothing about whatever her species was, but he knew humans didn't handle cold as well as he did, so if she's anything like that and he left, he would have to leave his blanket behind.

She'd probably handled going back on her own just fine before, but... Fuck. Maybe he should just stay and make sure she at least makes it home safe. He decided to wait until she woke up, so he sat there... and got up and walked around a few times. And tucked the blanket around her a little better so she'd be more comfy and bundled up, trying his best to be gentle. And paced around a bit more. And peeked out of the entrance briefly to make sure the coast was clear. He looked at the sky, to make sure that was clear too. Then finally, returned to the back wall of the burrow when the cold bothered him too much.

Mystic

…he ends up waiting a while longer before a response is finally forthcoming.

The fish lady grunts, sitting up. She rubs at her face, letting out a shaky sigh. Her bones crack as she stretches, settling back into their proper places. They had to change to accommodate the different body build, and it felt awful and satisfying at the same time to fix them.

She turns her head to look around, and spots the kid fidgeting next to her on the ground.

”Oh- you stayed,” she mumbles. ”Kinda figured you’d leave, I guess. That’s sweet of you.”

Sliding her legs into a sitting position, she glances down at the blanket.

”…Might need to wash this, it’s got dirt all over. Your pillow, too, if you have it.”

With a huff, she gets up, wrapping the blanket like a shawl around herself as she stands next to him, expectant.

“Come on, let’s go get warm. You’re hungry, right? And I’m done being cold in a hole in the ground. I bet you are, too.”

Spooky

He blinked. Wash? Wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he was, with utmost certainty, hungry.

He did have his pillow with him too, though currently it was behind him, flopped against the dirt wall while he had been moving around and trying to keep watch. Getting to his feet, he went over to pick it up, hugging it against his chest and resting his chin on it as he looked down at her. Yeah, by the looks of it that pillow had definitely seen better days.

He gave her a small nod, ready to follow her back.

Mystic

Nodding, she turns on her heel and starts walking up the slope of the burrow. Her feet sink into the earth, leaving webbed footprints like a duck. They exit back out into the snow, their breath visible in the cold air. It’s not as obvious or impressive as the steam that puffs out of his mouth, but that just goes to show it was far too cold for either of them to stay outside.

“Changing in the winter is the worst,” she grumbles, thinking out loud to fill the silence. “Especially outside. I can’t fit through my own front door without damaging it, so I have to stall for time in a den until it goes away. Sucks. But at least I’m not wild and rabid- I was worried I’d lose myself eventually. Haven’t had anything like that yet, so I’m hopeful. I probably would have been caught a long time ago, if I did.”

They reach the edge of the road, and she crosses without hesitation, reaching the snow-covered lawn and examining the moved box and empty plate. She gives a woeful smirk.

“Guess I wasn’t as good at hiding it as I thought,” she shrugs. “I was in a hurry, I thought I heard a mail truck or something coming down the road.”

Kneeling down, the fish lady starts picking up the tatters of cloth that had been left behind, tucking them into her arms. Standing back up, she begins climbing the porch, fumbling around under a plant pot for something.

“Come on- I’ll turn the heater on, so it won’t be freezing.”

Spooky

He listened to her talk as they headed back. It sounded pretty scary to change, and he wasn't sure what 'rabid' was, but he nodded. He could definitely understand the fear of getting caught.

He was more hesitant to cross the road than she was, but after a brief pause he hurried after her to catch up. Once they were in the yard, he went over to the steps where the empty disc was and sat there as the fish lady gathered the remaining cloth scraps off the ground, glancing at her in confusion as he overheard her talking.

Male truck?

Before he could attempt to further ponder the genders of vehicles, however, she moved past him on the porch and retrieved... Something from under the plant pot, that she used to open the door.

He had been prepared to sit out there and wait for food, but when it became clear she was inviting him in, he looked back at her with wide eyes.

While before he probably would've been more reluctant, the cold was definitely getting to him by this point... He stood shivering on the path by the stairs, clutching his pillow close to himself and looking at the house with its darkened windows as he took a few moments to consider. He didn’t have a good track record with being inside buildings, after all… But finally, he made his way up the steps to the door, peeking inside before giving her another glance, as if to ask if she was really sure she wanted him to come in.

She didn't seem to have any objections, though, so… Cautiously, he stepped over the threshold and went inside.

~*~

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[livestosave]

@ein-schnee-sturm asked: "Comforting" from Wilhelmine to Alfred

send me    ‘ comforting ‘    for my muse’s reaction to yours gently wiping their tears away after they’ve been caught crying (Accepting)

The pain was all-encompassing.

Alfred had been hit before, many times. He'd been left bruised and aching from picking fights he couldn't win with people he shouldn't challenge, and he'd won most of them. At least, in his view he had. Spitting and biting and clawing, giving as good as he got. He was used to the pain of it, used to being left with his 'lessons'. All it seemed to make him was more fierce when a fight did break out. He was a Goodkind, and if they thought to bully him, to make him lesser, he would see they regretted it. With his head held high, even if it meant a bit of blood or bruising.

What was some pain when weighed against his pride? His family name?

This time, though...the boy flinched at the touch. A half-hearted baring of bloodied fangs that screamed of fear and pain.

In the noonday moon of a Solitasian winter, his hair was almost glowingly white...or would have been, had it not been slick with sweat. Small, rounded ears poked out of the too-flat hair, though both were pinned flat to his skull, leaving his hair messy around their bases. There were spatters of pink and red in it, too, only a few drops nearer the front - though there were a few crimson droplets on his face - but more once one looked towards the back of his head.

The smell of blood filled his nose as it slithered down his back, soaking his shirt until it dripped from the fabric to the fine marble floor of the Manor's library. A small patch of marble before a fireplace...a refuge for a boy driven by fear and pain. A bit of blood settled at the corner of his mouth as he swallowed, tongue darting out between thin lips and painting them a light pink with blood.

Gods, there was so much blood.

The agony in his back prompted what could have been a whimper, as Alfred grit his teeth and tried to turn his too-dark eyes away from Wilhelmine. Tears blurred his vision, ran down his cheeks, but he refused to cry like a child. Even as he clicked his sharp teeth in stress, and bared his fangs in a grimace.

"...I didn't even...mean to, this time," he finally choked out, voice ragged and raw. He'd screamed himself hoarse. "She came at me and I just..." Put her in the hospital. Saw red, and next thing he knew...her father wanted satisfaction. His mother had sighed, exasperated...had agreed. Teach him a lesson, Roderick, she'd said. We can't have him overreacting so. He's a Goodkind...he should act like it.

A fresh wave of tears slipped past his defenses, and he shook his head. It made the throbbing ache in his back so much worse, drew a hiss from between his teeth...

"...you shouldn't be here." They might get mad at her. Not like they did him, but. It couldn't be a good look for her, going after the Goodkind Bastard. The biting, feral little brat.

If he didn't know any better, he'd think maybe they were right to be afraid of him and his temper. If he didn't know better, he might think he was a monster. But he did know better. Of course he knew better.

Right?