#I deeply struggled with those rocks until I settled on just using a brush and I'm glad I did

[crepuscularray]

Deercember Day Twenty-Six: Rocky Mountain Elk | Wander

The elk (Cervus canadensis), or wapiti, is the second largest species of deer, and one of the largest terrestrial mammals in its native range of North America and Asia. The word "elk" originally referred to the European variety of the moose, Alces alces, but was transferred to Cervus canadensis by North American colonists. The name "wapiti" derives from a Shawnee and Cree word meaning "white rump" for the distinctive light fur on the animal's rear. The Rocky Mountain elk (Cervus canadensis nelsoni) is a subspecies found in the Rocky Mountains and adjacent ranges of Western North America. It is this subspecies that is found throughout Yellowstone National Park, though many of the animals present are transitory and follow annual migration routes to and from their summer and winter ranges; there are currently between seven and eight herds who intermittently call Yellowstone home, numbering around 30,000 animals total in the summer. The Cody elk herd migrates across rugged country on the eastern side of the Absaroka Mountains near Cody, WY. This large herd of 6,000 - 7,000 animals winters in foothill habitat to the south and west of Cody. There are three core winter areas, with each having a different route back to Yellowstone. In spring, the elk begin their migration, though the elk that winter in the upper Greybull River have perhaps the most arduous journey. From winter range, they climb around 900 meters (nearly 3,000 vertical feet), up and over Needle Mountain, before descending down to the Shoshone River, only to climb again out of the river up to the Thorofare for summer. Some animals in this herd make migrations as far as 188 km (117 mi), while others make shorter migrations; the mean migration length is 93 km (58 mi). More information here and here about the Cody Herd, here about Yellowstone National Park, here about Rocky Mountain elk, and here about elk as a species.

Reference: Deer and Background. (The documentary is great, too!)

[arizona2004]

Safe Haven

Requested: yes

Cazriel x reader

word count: 3914

My face was pressed into the mud; I couldn’t even scream anymore. Three males held me down so I could barely move, but I was too tired from fighting so hard to struggle anyways. I was about to give up when the tip of a blade grazed my wing, and I remembered what I was fighting for. They were trying to clip my wings. I fought against the hold the males had on me to no avail. The fourth male brought his knife down, tearing it into my left wing. And not just once, not twice, but three long wounds. Then onto my right-wing. I tried holding back the tears, but it did me no good. I sobbed into the ground as not only my wings were taken from me, but the freedom and joy they stood for. 

When the knife was pulled from my wing, I thought it was done, but the male picked up mud and smothered it in the open wounds. They burned, everything burned, and it was getting blurry. I was going to pass out, I realized. “No one is to touch her, no one is to clean her wounds, no one is to heal her,” the voice of the camp leader rang out behind me before he walked away, and I fell into unconsciousness. 

I awoke a few times the next day, but when I did, it was to burning pain at my back and pitying eyes in all the females that walked by. I noticed I was no longer where I had been, pushed off to the edges of the camp, no longer in their way. So I turned my head away and looked at the forest to my left, falling asleep once more. 

It was the next time that I woke, that I was not alone. I felt someone crouching to my right, and as I turned to look at him, another person crouched to my left. I whipped my head to the left to find Azriel. Staring at me with pain and grief behind his eyes. “It- it’s gonna be okay,” I heard from my right. Cassian. I turned to him to see the same look in his eyes and tears. He’s crying. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll fix this,” he murmured, pushing my hair back from my face.

I turn my face away, looking toward Azriel, but he’s not there. That’s when I hear the shouting. I look back to Cassian and passed him to the camp. I can’t see the women and children. There are only men; they’re being pushed inside a blue-force field? Yes. All of the men are being rounded up and forced into a prison, and there is Azriel: collecting them and pushing them all inside. I look back to Cassian and notice beneath the sorrow in his eyes is anger. He combs a hand soothingly through my hair, “We’ll take you to Madja. She can heal you,” he says, voice cracking. That’s when I notice the bandages on my back and the fact that I am not in as much pain as before. Whatever infection was settling in has been slowed by magic. 

He continues soothing me until Azriel calls, “Cassian, they’re all here.”

“I’ll be right back,” he places a kiss atop my head and stands, walking toward Azriel. I watch in a haze as my males, my lovers, question all the men. Anywho are young, innocent, or remorseful are released. There aren't many.

They decipher who the males at the core of hurting me were. The camp leader and the ones that held me down. They were pulled aside one by one, and I had to close my eyes while Cassian and Azriel took turns hurting them. Through it all, I listen to them fighting, to their yells, and their pleas. 

“We didn’t know she was your lover,” some of them screamed.

In the end, I’d turned my head away from the scene. I am no stranger to blood and gore, and I would never be angry with Cassian and Azriel for what they are doing, but I do not revel in watching those males dying. The camp leader is the last of them to die. He spits out cruel and disgusting words at all three of us, and I try not to listen. I’m not sure which of them does it, but his words are suddenly cut off as his head is cut from his neck.

Cassian returns to me first. He pulls the make-shift bandages from my wings, inspecting the wounds beneath, “Az, we need to get her to Madja. We couldn't have cleaned the wounds well enough, and she’s still losing blood,” he said over his shoulder. Seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and we were spinning through space.

The room we landed in was clean. The floors and walls were pristine white and blue, and everything looked very orderly. Nothing was out of place or messy. A few people were in the large room, and their attention was immediately drawn to us as Azriel winnowed us in. Whatever place this was, it had many doors leading out of it and many healers- I realize as several of the males and females come to inspect my wings. Faintly I hear Azriel speaking to an older female. She must have ordered me moved because soon, Cassian is carrying me through one of those many doors and into a room with nothing more than a bed and a couple of chairs in it.

Then, I must have fallen asleep again because I woke up hours later, remembering very little after being brought to this healing den. I’m lying flat on my stomach, facing Cassian asleep in a chair to my left. Slowly I blink my eyes awake and turn my head. Azriel is seated on my other side with his head in his hands. When I try to speak, only a quiet groan escapes my throat. Azriel sits up suddenly and before he can mask it I make note of the guilt and pain behind his eyes. Cassian also jolts up behind me and moves to Azriel’s side of the bed. He’s far less skilled at hiding his emotions; they’re always written all over his face.

I want to speak, but the words won’t come. As if knowing my question, though, Azriel says, “she couldn’t save them,” Cassian turns his face down, away from me, and Azriel avoids my eyes too, as he continues, “She tried. Several healers did, but they couldn’t save your wings. The infection was too great. You’re lucky to be alive.”

A choked sob leaves me as everything crashes in. My wings have been clipped. I’ll never fly again. I turn my face into my pillow, dry sobbing into it, while Cassian sits on the edge of the bed. I feel his hand hover over my back, but he pulls back, deciding not to touch me. 

I feel like I can’t breathe as I heave into the pillow and wish the entire world would just disappear. I know Cassian is saying something, but I don’t hear his words. Azriel hasn’t said anything else, but I can feel his eyes on me and the guilt in them. 

After some time, I fall asleep again. 

*

Before I even open my eyes, I know it's not a nightmare as I had hoped. My wings ache with burning pain. “You’re due to take another tonic for the pain soon. I can go get it,” Azriel says from behind me. He must have sensed my pain. When I open my eyes to look at him, he is not who I see. Slouched forward in a chair, head lying on the bed, is Cassian. One of his hands is brushing against mine, and I move it closer, wanting more contact. I look slightly behind me at Azriel and tell him with my eyes that I would like that. 

He’s gone for only a moment before he returns. I barely had the chance to blink, and he was already back. Walking over to my left side, where Cassian sleeps, Azriel helps pour the bitter liquid down my throat and gets water to ease that too. 

My hand rests on top of Cassians; I briefly look before returning to Azriel. “He must be exhausted to not have woken up yet,” I say.

Azriel looks down at him and puts his hand to Cassian's head, gently running his fingers through the dark curls, “He wouldn’t sleep. Drank so much coffee he couldn’t even dose off; he didn’t want to. Eventually, I knocked him out.”

I raise my eyebrows in shock, but Azriel just smirks slightly looking back to me, “I didn’t hit him or anything. I asked Rhys to go into his mind and put him to sleep for a while,” the moment ends then, the smile leaving his face, “I didn’t want him getting hurt too.”

He blames himself. I know he does. He always does, though I wish he wouldn’t, “It wasn’t your fault, Az,” I murmur, closing my eyes. I can feel him staring at my wings, which have already started to ease as the tonic sets in.

“If we had come to see you sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. Madja said there was nothing we could have done about the infection, even soon after they did it, but if I had been there a day earlier, then we could have stopped it from happening at all,” the words rush out of him angrily at first. He sounds like he’s speaking more to himself than me. Then his voice cracks on the last few words, and I open my eyes to see tears welling up in his eyes.

I look at him for a moment longer and say, “come lay with me,” a confused look crosses his face, “this wasn’t your fault Azriel, now please come hold me.” He didn’t miss a beat. Crossing to the other side of the bed, he laid down on the edge, gently maneuvering himself to only touch me where there was no chance of making contact with my wings. 

His right arm slithered under my head, resting his hand on the other side of my body. My right hand felt numb beneath my body, but I pulled it up to brush it with his. He grabbed my hand in his, and so I fell asleep, knowing I held both of my males close to me.

*

My dream started as a memory. It was the first time I had met my males; crouching next to the creak outside of camp, I sharpened a rusty old knife with a rock. I had been wishing I had a good knife, but that would be too risky to steal, and any protection was better than none. I didn’t hear the figure to my left, and when a branch snapped behind me, I knew I only heard it because that male wanted me to. 

Dropping the knife, I quickly stood, turning to greet the male. It had been Cassian. Jokingly he said, “You couldn't hurt a fly with that knife. You really need a lesson in weaponry, don’t you?”

I shouldn't have gotten angry, but I did anyway, “I know about weapons,” I snapped, “but not all of us are privileged enough to have pretty little knives like you,” That's when I became aware of the figure to the side. He laughed deeply, and I was sure he must be laughing at me. I would be punished severely for this.

My attention snapped back to the first male as he spoke, “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, “but you really shouldn’t use that dagger. I’ll get you a better one.”

“Here. She can have this one,” the other male spoke, pulling out a dagger. It is plain and silver with a simple, twisted image of shadows carved onto the surface, leading to the black hilt, “I’ve had it for ages but never really use it,” He detached a sheath from his belt and slipped the dagger in before handing it to me. I looked into his eyes a moment longer before turning away, blushing.

“What do you need a weapon for anyways?” Cassian asked.

I shrug slightly, “protection.”

“From?”

“Everyone,” I say, tucking the dagger under my skirts. I probably should keep it closer being alone with two males, but for whatever reason, I did not feel threatened by them. The memory faded away as another appeared. Only days after I had first met the two Illyrians, the high lord’s most trusted friends, and advisers, they appeared in my camp again. Not for business with the Camp leader, however. I felt them stalking me as I walked through the wood,  when I was carefully distanced from the camp, they showed themselves- Cassian with a grin spreading across his face, and Azriel with a carefully blank expression, but curious eyes nonetheless. That was when things began. When I started falling in love with them.

These meetings continued for months. We met inside a small cave just outside the camp. It was glamoured now from anyone's eyes but ours. My little safe haven. It had been where I was running when I realized they intended to clip my wings. I wasn’t fast enough, though. 

Now the dreams were turning, twisting into something more terrifying. Darkness rushed toward me as I fell into the next scene. I tried screaming and fighting as hands grabbed me in the dark, but I just kept falling. My whole body burned, and a shiver ran down my spine as I was thrown into the waking world.

*

The warm heat of a body pressed at my right ran through me as I blinked my eyes open. It was Azriel, I realized now. He brushed his fingers gently down my spine, soothing me, “It was just a bad dream,” he murmured against my hair, pressing a kiss to my head. 

On my other side, I felt Cassian squeeze my hand. He was awake now, holding my hand tightly as he laid his head closer to mine. Feeling them beside me was already enough to relieve my aches and ease my mind. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Cassian whispered between us, just loud enough for Azriel to hear. I shook my head in answer, closing my eyes tightly in an attempt to fall back asleep. 

I couldn’t, though. So I just lay there with my males on either side of me, trying to pretend we were still in that little cave, and nothing had gone wrong. I still had my wings. 

*

Days have passed now. Most of them were filled with me laying in bed with one or both of my males holding me. Other times though, they involved tears streaming down my face and screams tearing out of my throat. Cassian and Azriel were always there, rocking me through it and reminding me of what I still had, though it felt like I’d lost everything. 

Occasionally I’d wake to arguing. I heard the high lord scolding Azriel and Cassian about their actions after the first day, but he didn’t sound seriously angry. Mostly I heard the whispered arguments between Azriel and Cassian about me. My treatment, my pain, how best to help me. I hated that they were arguing. It happened less and less as I recovered, but I still hated it.

Neither male was here now though, it was a rare occurrence. I had told both males the other was staying with me and told him he should go eat. I needed the alone time, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Rather than stay in bed, I stood on numb legs and hobbled over to the bath. It has been too long since I’ve bathed. How Cassian and Azriel managed to be near me without wanting to vomit at the stench was beyond me. 

Kneeling on the ground, I held my hand under the water as it rushed out. When the water was ready and smelling of lavender, I submerged myself to the waist. Slowly I let my wings touch the water as I lowered myself further. When I was finally in the water entirely, I relaxed and leaned my head back before slipping down lower to wet my hair. 

When I was still under the water, finally relaxed, I breathed out slowly. Everything was peaceful until a pair of large hands gripped my upper arms and pulled me from the water. My eyes shot open, and I fought the male until I noticed it was Azriel, “Stop!” I yelled at him, “What on earth are you doing?” I shouted. I shot a glance to Cassian, standing in the doorway. He looked upset, and Az was definitely angry.

“What are you doing?” he replied with a growl. I tried pulling my arms away from him. He loosened his grip, but only enough to no longer hurt. I still couldn’t get away.

“I was bathing,” I glared at him, “I didn’t realize that wasn’t allowed.”

“Bullshit,” he said

“Az…” Cassian spoke.

“You’re not allowed to kill yourself! I won’t let you,” Azriel shouted.

What, I thought, “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I say calmly, looking straight into his eyes, “I just wanted a bath.” Suddenly a wave of guilt hit me because I’d made them think that. Azriel must have believed me because he released my arms and took a step back.

I pulled my arms up to cross my chest and looked away from them. Cassian pulled Azriel out of the bathroom, but neither of them closed the door. I returned to the bath but was no longer relaxed. I decided to quickly clean up and return to bed. The room was nearly silent except for the short whispered argument between the males. When I stepped into the room to dress, they both studiously looked away from me and one another. I dressed quickly and laid in bed, falling asleep before either of them could try and talk to me. 

After weeks had passed, I was sitting and walking again. Most of the pain had gone, now only phantom pains and sore scars remained. I was barely able to move my wings, and Madja said with some physical therapy, I would regain much of the movement but never enough to fly again. 

Cassian sat with me now, massaging my back. Things had gotten better. I’ve tried imagining life without my wings, and as long as I remember that I’ll always have my batboys, things aren't so bad. “Do you wanna go for a fly,” Cassian whispered. 

“I can’t,” I said, tears welling up as I imagined I could.

Cassian pulled me up, “come on,” he said, pulling me by the wrist. He walked us up to the roof and stood behind me. Pulling my hips to him, he said, “stand on my feet.” I looked at him confused, “just do it.” So I did. I stood on his feet, and he wrapped his arms under mine and across my chest. “Try to keep your legs straight against mine,” he whispered against my ear, “if you need to hook your ankles around mine, do that.” Then we were taking off into the air, flying straight up. It wasn’t the same as flying myself, but it was relaxing nonetheless. We flew straight for the house of wind and hovered there for a moment. I was going to ask why we weren’t moving, but then Azriel walked out onto the balcony and shot toward us. 

We spent hours in the sky. We even developed signals so Cassian would fly however I wanted. Glide left or right. Sharp turns. Down, up, backflip, frontflip. I felt like a kid again as I tumbled through the sky with the two most important people in my life.

When finally we were too exhausted to continue, we landed at a restaurant in the city. Azriel went in first, apparently having made reservations. As I followed-Cassian's hand in mine-we were led across the room between tables until we reached a curtained wall in the back. The males both grinned at me as our host pulled back the curtain, revealing a beautiful candle-lit scene. A beautiful private area just for us.

The evening was perfect. We ate dinner and laughed and just enjoyed each other. The room reminded me of our cave: chilly, small, and with colorful pillows and blankets littering the floor. It didn’t take long after finishing our meals for the three of us to end up in the mess of fabric. I have no idea how long we laid there. They just held me whispering beautiful things into my ears and an occasional obscenity from Cassian. They always knew what I needed. 

My back was pressed to Cassian as he carefully wrapped his arms around me, avoiding my wings. I’m almost positive he’s asleep, and even in sleep, his grip is like iron. I couldn’t possibly move. Azriel, in front of me, combed the hair out of my face. “You’re gonna be okay, ya know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I know it doesn’t always feel like it, and you wanna give up sometimes, but you can’t. Please don’t ever leave us. We’re gonna be okay,” a tear slid down his cheek as he whispered these words to me.

“I promise,” I whispered back, pressing my forehead to his, “I promise.”

*

The next day I was released from the healers’ den, but it didn’t matter; Cassian and Azriel still never left my side. I didn’t mind, though. As soon as we left, they dragged me down endless streets of houses. I had no idea where we were going until I saw the large manor seated beside the Sidra, to our right. It must be the high lord and lady's house. We didn’t turn to it, though. Instead, I was led left, that’s when I noticed the smaller house, seated directly across from the manor. It was smaller, but not small. Beautiful ivy ran across the brick it was built of. It was supposed to look old but was certainly brand new. A short white fence ran along the yard. Cassian opened a little gate motioning for me to continue up the path. Inside, the house was stunning and appeared brand new. A curved staircase wrapped around behind us, and a chandelier hung from the high ceiling.

“What is this,” I asked quietly, not wanting my voice to echo.

“A house,” Cassian answered simply, “how about a tour?”

“Whose house?” I asked.

“Ours, of course,” Azriel replied. “We figured the house of wind was out of the question since you wouldn’t very easily be able to get in and out. And the beds in the River house are just big enough for two Illyrians. Not three.”

“So we bought this place. For the three of us,” Cassian finished, biting his lip nervously. 

“You bought me a house,” I asked incredulously.

“Us. We bought us a house,” Cassian replied.

This would take some getting used to. Them doting on me all the time; always near. It wouldn’t be difficult, I imagined.

“You can decorate it however you’d like,” Azriel spoke.

“Even if I want to paint all the walls pink and hang orange curtains from all the windows,” I smirked. He cringed slightly, and Cassian laughed, holding out his hand, offering the tour again.

[rin-itoshi]

kisses . genshin impact (pt. 2)

> summary: places the genshin boys kiss you other than the lips (ft. bennett, chongyun, razor, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli)

> content: fluff , gn!reader , ooc(?idk)

here’s part one!

# BENNETT

where: your palm!

why: this man does not know how to stfu, so when you have to forcefully shush him, your palm is the best spot for his lips to kiss.

“It’s awfully quiet today,” you murmured as you turned on your heels, hearing the whirlwind of a boy coming your way. He nearly tumbled—so close to crashing at your feet but fortunately caught himself before he could hit the ground. He stood up straight, dusting his clothes with a breathy laugh before yelping out a pained, “Ow!”

“What happened?” You ask as you reach out to cup his face, checking his head and skin for any injuries.

The male chuckled with a closed eyed smile, “I got hit by a rock!” His voice echoed within the city, making you slightly cringe when your ears ached. He was quick to go off on a tangent, babbling about some nonsense that made you even more confused than before.

“Bennett,” you call out to grasp his attention. The moment he turned your way, you slapped a hand over his mouth with an amused smile. “I know you’re excited and want to talk, but we should move away from the Knights of Favonius headquarters before Captain Kaeya kills us.”

He kissed your palm gently, eliciting a ticklish sensation in your hand that made you pull away. Before you could do anything about his sneaky kisses, he grabbed your hand and began dragging you away, talking about some adventure team he was putting together.

# CHONGYUN

where: your shoulders!

why: he likes the smoothness of your shoulder when he lays down behind you and can rest easily without being judged.

The bedroom door creaked open to reveal the blue haired male who stood in the doorway with a pensive look on his face. Upon seeing you lying in your shared bed, he exhaled deeply and you could practically see relief wash over is features. “[y/n],” he breathed out as he shuffled into the room, scurrying over the bed to climb onto the silk sheets and lay himself in the spot behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his chest as gently as possible. As hesitant as he was, he was way too tired to be reluctant about holding you even thought you clearly felt the same need for touch as him. “’m so tired.”

After a long day of training, he was exhausted and was in desperate need of your touch in order to replenish the energy he had depleted earlier that day. It was only much better now that you were both living together and were able to cuddle as much as needed after work.

“Welcome home, my love.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, doing his absolute best to push away the strong emotions that burned inside of his heart. He refused to flare-up in front of you ever again, but with you unknowingly doing things to stir him up, he was always struggling to keep calm.

Peppering kisses along your shoulders, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the cold sensation of his lips on your skin. It was a blissful feeling, warming up your heart with love despite how cold his body truly was. Too beautiful.

# RAZOR

where: your eyelids!

why: this one may sound weird but he just gets curious when he keeps watch and tends to do it without a thought.

Razor stood tall at the peak of the mountain that you both temporarily resided on. His chin was held high, chest puffed out with a sense of responsibility flowing through his veins at the thought of watching over you while you slept to keep you out of harms way. It wasn’t necessarily a demanding duty but for you, it meant a thousand times more than it usually would have.

The boy approached your sleeping body. You were rested on the ground under his jacket that barely shielded you from the cold weather tonight presented to you both. He gently tugged his jacket further up your body, covering your arm that had been slightly exposed.

You were cute like this, sleeping so peacefully with so much trust in the guy who could barely communicate yet you loved him so much. It was amazing.

Subconsciously, he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on your eyelid. You stirred in your sleep, forcing him to jolt away in surprise before settling when you murmured something sleepily, smiled and then relaxed. Your behavior was new to him and yet, it brought so many different feelings into his heart. Unknowing to you, he smiled genuinely and patted your head gently.

“You rest. I keep watch.”

# XIAO

where: your forehead!

why: he just thinks it is less embarrassing than trying to kiss you on the lips openly + less chances of him getting denied the kiss.

His expression was rather dark as you stood in front of one another. It looked like he was thinking deeply about something but you brushed it off, assuming it was just his way of sulking since you two were about to split for the night.

“I packed you some Almond Tofu, so you can eat some on your way back. I also got you a jacket to wear since it might be a little cold in the evening. I know you don’t sleep and stuff, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your rambling about his well-being wasn’t new to him, which is why he didn’t interrupt you. He watched with the same dark expression that seemed scary but if you looked closely, you would see just how soft those eyes had become after spending so much time with a “mere human” like you.

Grasping you by the back of you head, he pulled you forward and leaned in briskly, kissing your forehead softly before pulling away and turning around. You barely had a second to recover as he adjusted his mask on his face and disappeared from your sight, muttering nothing but a simple, “be careful.”

You smiled at the tingling sensation on you skin, knowing he had only escaped to avoid feeling any type of emotion after kissing you so brazenly. As mean as Xiao seemed, he really was a simpleton with you.

# XINGQIU

where: the back of your hand!

why: do i have to explain?

“Xingqiu, where are we going?” You asked with a tired smile on your lips as you allowed yourself to be dragged along this upward slope with no set destination in mind. The boy simply laughed, pulling you faster until you were nearly tripping over your own feet. By the time you had planned to complain once more, he came to an abrupt stop and you almost bumped into his body if it wasn’t for your quick senses. “Where are we?”

“Take a look, my liege. Quite fascinating, is it not?” He said as he took a seat on the branch perched on the top of the hill, big enough for the two of them to sit on. You plopped beside him, admiring the sun that was beginning to set while Xingqiu opened a book to the page he had left off on.

“My life seems fulfilled when I am sat here with a book in my hands and you by my side. Don’t you agree?” HIs words were sincere, surprisingly void of that mischievous tone he usually had these days.

“I’m not particularly fond of books like you, but I am extremely fond of you. So, yes, I do agree.” You said with a cheesy smile, leaning in his direction. The boy abruptly stood up, and you rose an eyebrow in confusion.

Bending his body slightly, he held out his hand to you until you placed yours on top of his. Once you did so, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand and flashed you an easy smile. “With this, I owe my life to you, my liege. A vow much greater than marriage.”

# ZHONGLI

where: your lips!

why: I legit couldn’t think of a non-lips spot so i gave up. mans just likes the way your lips taste like his favorite wine. two good things.

He admired his cup with bright eyes, absolute taken with the way it tasted on his tongue and hadn’t changed in all these years. It was a beautiful emotion that was a mixture of happiness and nostalgia, plus a bit of romance considering he was here with the one he loved.

“What do you think?” Zhongli asked, eyes full of curiosity as he turned in your direction. You hadn’t said anything all night and he assumed you weren’t enjoying the wine he had presented to you so happily.

On contrary, it was way too good to be wasted, so you chose to drink it slowly in order to savor the beautiful taste that somehow reminded you of Zhongli himself. Maybe it was because he talked about this wine too much.

“It tastes good,” you murmur, leaning into his side to gain a bit of warmth from the male who shared the emotion, leaning into your touch.

You glanced up at him, smiling softly when you already saw his eyes on you. “Stop staring so impolitely. Where are your manners?” You asked jokingly, giggling softly when Zhongli looked down and chuckled.

Leaning in, he cupped your cheek and smashed your lips together. He could taste the Osmanthus wine on you and it nearly made him melt into the kiss that he had long suppressed.

When he pulled away, a small smile settled into his lips, satisfaction in his eyes. “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember.”

a/n: finally, I finished it. im going to bed now uhhdhfjf (idk if i’ll ever do other characters but we’ll see)

[bt-writing]

Windblume Confession

Diluc x gn!Reader

A/N: i feel so bad posting this with inazuma and all the new content... no one cares abt the windblume festival rn its 2.0 lolol. i wrote this during the windblume festival and thought i’d also share it on here. windblume plot doesn’t really have that much to do with the story itself so its whatever

warnings: cringe... but none

SFW

word count: 1.3k

summary: You fall victim to venti's schemes and are now on your way to confess to Diluc.

"Oh, Barbatos, I can't do this. This was stupid to begin with."

Your heart felt tight in your chest as you walked. Clammy hands fiddled around a bouquet of freshly picked small lamp grass. The blue petals were illuminated in the moonlight that shined down on Mondstadt. Small lamp grass always had a gentle, refreshing floral scent when it was picked, but you did not feel refreshed in the slightest. In fact, you were more than ready to throw up.

The Windblume Festival in Mondstadt was the designated time of year for romantic endeavors and confessions to occur. It was a time of independence, freedom, and love for the city. You planned to spend this year enjoying the culture and activities offered, but the Archons seemed to have other divine plans for you instead. The Archon, Barbatos, to be specific.

In order to make some quick cash for alcohol, Venti had been offering romantic poetry lessons to the citizens wishing to convey their feelings to their sweetheart or lover-to-be. You had no intentions of partaking in the romantic side of the festival, but a certain Cavalry Captain had managed to get you involved. Venti wanted wine from Kaeya, who would procure it from Diluc. Kaeya was unsure if he would actually be able to get the "payment" from Diluc, so he snitched on your feelings for the bartender to Venti.

Venti saw your struggle as potential—for more wine, that is. He decided to kill two birds with one stone, and now you were on your way to confess your love to the Dawn Winery's tycoon himself. Of course, part of you was doing this willingly.

It's become almost painful to be around Diluc lately. Your thoughts always became distracted when you were around him, and you're unable to focus during work and commissions at times due to thinking about him. He sent butterflies swarming into your stomach just from meeting his eyes, and his fire wasn't needed to make your cheeks flare red from heat. It was embarrassing how much of a wreck he made you.

You figured that finally confessing your feelings to Diluc was for the best, and maybe this push from Venti was exactly what you needed to get over him. There really was no harm in confessing. Having a crush on someone was akin to complimenting them. It meant you respected and admired them as a person. The only down side to confessing was the chance of rejection, which could put a strain on your relationship with Diluc and make things tense. Diluc was known to have antisocial tendencies, so maybe he would feel too awkward every time he saw you and end up avoiding you entirely.

But, it was too late to let that wonderful pep talk steer you away from your destination himself. Diluc had walked out of the Angel's Share bar and locked the door. He turned around and found your eyes staring at his. It had obviously been a busy night at the bar, as Diluc only ever put his beautiful hair in a high ponytail on busy nights. The moon's soft luminescence served to highlight the light flush on his cheeks. Diluc's smile was gentle and warm as he raised a gloved hand to greet you.

That kind smile felt like an arrow being shot into your stomach, causing you to inhale sharply. There was no turning back now. You softly cradled the bouquet to your chest with one arm, and raised the other arm to return his greeting. Reluctantly, your legs slowly began to make their way towards him.

"What are you doing out this late, (Y/N)?" Diluc questioned. His eyes glanced over the bouquet you carried, but refrained from asking anything about it. You bit the inside of your cheek for a second, thinking about the words you would use to end your favorite friendship. You took in a deep breath.

"I came to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have a few minutes to spare? I know it's pretty late."

"I do. What do you need?" He stood looking down at you. Your body was hot and fidgety under his gaze. It wasn't even an option to continue looking at his expecting eyes, so you settled on giving your speech to his boots.

"Diluc... I know you're a busy man with a large burden put on your shoulders. I see how hard you work for the winery, and you're always so diligent." You nervously played with the parchment wrapping around the bouquet you held. "You take care of everything almost effortlessly, but I know you probably put a lot of stress on yourself to make it seem that way, and I really respect you for it. I respect how you treat your workers with kindness and put their needs above yours... You have such a kind heart to everyone, including me. For as long as I've known you, I've always seen you put others before yourself, like staying out late and putting yourself at risk for the sake of Mondstadt." You paused for a second to breathe deeply, the heavy silence quickly scaring you back into talking.

"I really do...think very highly of you." Your cheeks hurt from how hot they were. "But, the more I got to know you, I recognized other things about you. You have every reason to be cold and spiteful, yet you continue to have the most loving heart out of anyone I've met. You're selfless and brave, and you never expect anyone to thank you. Lately, I'm unable to focus around you anymore. Whenever I'm with you, I feel so giddy that I don't know what to do with myself. You make me feel so safe and happy, no matter where we are or what we're doing. With every moment I spend with you, Diluc, I just...

"I realize how in love with you I am!"

It was terribly quiet now, and your heart was beating so fast that you expected to start seeing dots any second. You had said your feelings to Diluc, and there was no going back. You expected an awkward cutoff at some point to save you from the embarrassment of an unreciprocating rejection, or at least a quick, curt response, but neither seemed to come. Some time had passed after your confession, so you decided to look up at Diluc's face.

When you met Diluc's scarlet eyes, you immediately saw the dark red blush that covered the poor man's surprised face. If you didn't feel that exact same heat on your own face, you probably would have thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. Your own eyes stared into his bright red ones for what felt like an eternity, until he finally opened his mouth to respond. "You sure know how to catch me off-guard, (Y/N)." He chuckled softly, his words doing nothing to dismiss the rocks settling in your stomach. It felt like you would die if he didn't give you a proper response soon.

Diluc stepped towards you, quickly closing the distance between your bodies. He leaned down and brought his hand up to your hair, brushing it back. Soft lips pressed gently against your forehead and another hand moved to cup the side of your jaw. Your eyes went wide and your mouth opened slightly in surprise. Diluc removed his lips and stood up straight, taking your hand in his and tracing your knuckles with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I made you confess first, (Y/N)… I've shared your feelings for a long time. Hearing you say those words—I genuinely thought I was in a dream." His sweet laugh fell out of from his lips once again. This time, instead of making you feel heavy, you decided it was your new favorite sound—one that made you feel light and free. His laugh was the perfect sound for the Windblume Festival.

[lenaariewrld]

content loading

KUROO — 8. a strange feeling

You wake up when you feel an unexpected weight suddenly placed on your chest, a gentle rumbling echoing through your ribcage. Your eyes peek open to see your cat, a shark hat strapped under her chin. “Bimmie!” You coo sleepily, your arms cradling the cat and rubbing her spine. She arches her butt against your palms.

“Good morning. Time to get up,” Kuroo stands at the foot of your bed, fully dressed and staring at you over a mug of coffee. You turn your attention away from your cat to glare at him.

“What time is it?”

“Seven,”

“Fuck that,” You turn back to loving on your cat, scratching her ears and chin and rubbing the sides of her fluffy body. She purrs and coos from all the wonderful attention, kneading her paws into you particularly hard when she enjoys the rubs you give her. A gentle laugh leaves you when she finally decides she has had enough and she saunters her way to the space on your bed not occupied by humans, curling up and tucking her paws beneath herself.

Kuroo is still standing by your bed and waiting for you to get up. You sigh and sit up, frowning deeply. “Why am I getting up so early for?” You ask, “It better be for those good pancakes, or else I will kill you,” You threaten softly.

The man chuckles, watching you get up sluggishly. His amusement continues as you drag yourself around the room to gather your proper materials for waking up and being a functioning member of society. Because mornings do not make you look like a functional member of society.

He seats himself in your chair while you leave to head to your bathroom.

“We need to go grocery shopping... I got the others to make lists of things they wanted or needed, what meals we could make, and all that. I just need someone to keep track of the list,” He informs you, spinning the chair to look around your room.

The walls are decorated with posters of your favorite characters from anime and tv shows you like, shelves stacked with manga or figurines from games you’ve adored. Your desk is a neat mess of gaming things and just cute knick-knacks that make it look more you. Kuroo finds himself smiling at it all.

The bathroom door opens sometime later and he turns his head to hear you if you should speak. “Okay, I’m assuming this is your roundabout way of telling me if I go, you’ll buy me snacks?” You pose the question, rubbing a towel over your head to dry your hair.

Kuroo hums.

“You got a deal,” He finally declares, a cheeky smile flashing in your direction. You sarcastically smile back, heading to your closet and grabbing clothes to change into. Kuroo once again takes the time to look around your room.

You don’t go through your entire morning routine this time, deciding to save the man the trouble and put it off until you feel more energized to actually have thoughts. Instead, you just settle for a good shower and clean clothes. Kuroo waits patiently for you the entire time, standing up and holding out his mug for you. To your surprise, it’s not his coffee but yours, made exactly how you like it.

A funny warmth spreads in your chest, and you haven’t even drank the coffee yet.

“Thank you,” You hum, following him downstairs and towards the front door, nursing your mug the whole way. It’s not piping hot so drinking larger gulps is much easier.

You make a quick stop in the kitchen to transfer your coffee to a more portable cup before heading outside. Kuroo is waiting for you once again, a patient smile on his face.

The whole drive he plays soft music, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. You notice he only moves his pointer finger or pinkie to drum.

“Okay,” You brace yourself in your seat, wiggling your body as much as you can to face Kuroo more. “What is the plan this time, chief?” You raise your brow and slide your cup into the cup holder that separates the driver and passenger seat.

“I’ve already organized the shopping list into different categories so we can just go from aisle to aisle and get it all rather than jumping throughout the whole store,” Kuroo says, “It’s on my phone,” He adds before you can question where this oh-so-meticulously put-together list is. Instead, you nod. Kuroo smiles and hands you the device from his sweatpants pocket.

“Add your snacks,”

The rest of the drive is short and helps wake you up completely. By the time Kuroo parks and you climb out, you have the energy to ransack a whole 7-11. Hypothetically.

Kuroo leads you inside, letting you push the cart and being, for once, responsible about the shopping while you trail behind with a small smile. He tells you all the tips for making sure vegetables are ripe or fruits are the kind of look and taste you might want, how to get the best quality of items without overpaying, and what to look for when buying fresh meat.

Admittedly, you are indulging him. You know a good portion of the tips (let’s be honest, who doesn’t know how to make sure an apple or a tomato is good?). However, his happiness to tell you and his earnest helpfulness are refreshing.

“Do you eat salads?” You question as he turns the third variety of lettuce in his hand, inspecting it for bug bites and dirt. “Because that’s the only thing I can think of why you need multiple kinds of lettuces,” You add when he looks at you. Kuroo pouts.

“Don’t be mean,” He huffs. You giggle.

“Then put down the lettuce. Stick to the list. And I don’t see three types of lettuces on here,”

Kuroo sets down the lettuce and turns to you, lightly keeping his hand on the cart. He leans close to you as if preparing to share a secret. “What if I just wanted us all to be healthier?” He says, adding a ‘hmm’ at the end as if he owned you with his sick hypothetical logic. You bump his shoulder and keep pushing the cart past all the leafy vegetables.

“As if you care,”

Kuroo dramatically slaps his hand over his chest. “I am wounded, muffin,” He leans over the cart to lay against your back, laughing as you try to shove him off. However, he was an athlete in high school and still kind of works out thanks to Bokuto being his roommate. You, who has never even looked at an exercise machine, are not as strong as him, and struggle to move him.

“You’re wounding me now!” You shove his bicep, earning a laugh from him. He only drapes his arms around your shoulders, relaxing his body against you further without actually hurting you.

A few other shoppers in the store look at you two. It’s mainly older women, and they simply smile at the two of you and shuffle past without saying anything.

How cute they are, they must think, so happy.

You finally manage to get Kuroo off of you and continue the shopping trip, now with a lot fewer distractions. You make Kuroo keep one hand on the cart as a precaution, reading off items he needs to grab. He doesn’t pout or complain, simply nodding along and going with what you say.

“I know this song,” You comment as you push the cart farther into an aisle. You strain your ears to hear the music faintly playing over the store’s speakers, a smile spreading on your lips as you recognize the tune you had listened to on repeat before. “It’s one of my favorites,”

“Really?” Kuroo carefully grabs a jar of jam and sets it in the car basket. You hum and nod. He smiles back and crosses his arms as he leans on the side of the cart, watching your face. “Why did you like it?”

You stop pushing the cart to check the list. “Why wouldn’t I? It was a great dancing song,” You shrug and cross off the items the both of you already set in the cart. A good chunk of the list had been cleared, and you smile at how much you’ve already completed of this trip. You turn off the phone and hold it out for the man, letting him take it back.

“Show me?” Kuroo asks, holding out his hand. You let out a small laugh. Dancing in the middle of a store aisle sounds like something from a romantic book or movie. Gently, you take his hand and step closer to him. The shopping was temporarily forgotten.

You start leading him in a simple dance, stumbling through the motions as you try to hear the music over the other noises of the store. Kuroo chuckles and follows your lead, holding both your hands and twisting around the small space. A laugh bubbles in your throat and he twirls you, his hand coming around your waist to pull you in again. “You’re quite skilled!” You say, squeezing his hand twice.

He squeezes back.

Again, you feel a funny warmth in your chest. This time, paired with a fluttering in your stomach. Kuroo’s smile never fades as he stares at you, continuing the silly made-up dance you both perform.

“You’re the one leading, I should say that about you,” Kuroo once again twirls you. You release one of his hands and extend your arm, twirling back in until your back hits his chest. You giggle. “See?” He comments, humming along to the song.

You both rock back and forth like that for a moment.

“Now you’re just being cheesy,” You tease, stepping away from the man. He shakes his head playfully, brushing off your words. You run your fingers through your hair, clearing your throat. “We should get back to the shopping,” You take the cart again. Kuroo is right behind you, already with a new item from the list in his hand. He sets it in the basket before placing his hand back on the handle.

You pat the back of his hand, relaxing your hand over his absentmindedly.

The shopping continues like normal, with occasional breaks for Kuroo to look at items or point out interesting things he sees. It’s quick work, and you find yourself at the checkout before you know it, packing your items into bags and carrying them to the car.

The strange stomach twisting doesn’t die down. Even when you unpack the bags with Kuroo, roping Kageyama and Bokuto into helping you both put all the groceries away, it sticks.

Strange.

previous | masterlist | next

funfacts:

Kuroo is in charge of the grocery shopping because he’s the only one who likes doing it

Kenma or Yamaguchi usually go shopping with Kuroo but he decided to torment you instead

taglist: @odxrilove @pogpixelz @toshiswifey @thechaosoflonging @anime-meme-sanctuary @chaseyui @lucyrocks86 @mirikusashes @bolinhodadestruicao @w0rm-babie @fandomsgotmefucked @meena-in-a-nutshell @halcyondaisy @emisse @cerealfrdinner797 @sakusasimpbot

[yungbludy]

the hills have eyes

plot ↬ being attracted to one overwhelming person known as yungblud is alresdy too much for you. adding mgk in the mix is even worse.

warnings ↬ there’s tension here yes yes, smut!! threesome!! fingering & handjobs, writing colson is so fun i didn’t realize how hot he was lol 😳, hint at something going on between colson & dom, dom & reader like each other, maybe a pt 2?

a/n ↬ i know y’all have been wanting this for the LONGEST, and it’s easily my most requested fic. enjoy it!

When you left college with a degree in music production, you never would’ve expected to land in the studio of Yungblud, a young but upcoming artist with his own charm to set him apart from the rest. He was easily the most hyperactive artist you’ve worked with, someone with a truly pure heart that cared deeply for his music and his fans. It was a breath of fresh air, because out of all the artists you’ve worked with—big and small, you don’t think you’ve ever come across someone so genuine.

It was almost fate how you went from being in the studio with him every other week to nearly every day. He loved your presence; you made him see things differently, made him hear things he had never heard before. You made him feel smarter, more experienced.

A friendship blossomed. It was nice, because you didn’t have that many friends when you left college. Dominic introduced you to other people too, such as his band mate Adam, and they adored you. You were the calm before the storm of Dominic in their eyes. You balanced each other out, like some rock n’ roll version of a Yin and Yang.

Before you would hang out in groups. You, Dominic, and maybe a few other friends attending concerts or going to a restaurant together. You liked it—these people knew you and liked you, and you felt like you had a place.

You didn’t know when the... shift started. When it started becoming just you, and Dominic. When he texted you if you wanted to hang out at his place, (not a date or anything, just hanging out lol 🖤). When you still saw your friends, but you were seeing Dominic’s face more and more.

But you knew as soon as that started happening, that the feelings you had for Dominic—as a friend and as a partner, started becoming way too deep way too fast.

And honestly? It scared you. Your last relationship was in college and that didn’t go so well because you both had different outlooks on how you wanted to continue your life. You weren’t ever a relationship type of person and barely found yourself developing fucking crushes on people.

But you were crushing on Dominic. Hard.

As cliche as it sounds, being around him gave you literal butterflies. Seeing texts from him made you smile, and when his arms wrapped around you and he looked at you with all his teeth out, his eyes clenched shut—God. You were falling, and you were falling hard.

That was, until, Colson came into the mix.

You liked some of his music. You weren’t a big fan of “MGK”, and only really knew about him because of the whole beef he had with Eminem. You remembered that one song—fucking Wild Boy, being played in a few clubs and parties during college, but you didn’t have any liking towards him.

But... wow. He and Dominic together were a force to be reckoned with.

Colson was a good person. A loving father and a talented individual—not to mention he was also fucking hilarious too. Having him around in the studio guaranteed no bad days, because he could also make you feel better with a corny joke or a funny assortment of curse words.

You liked him, over time. Not to mention he was drop dead gorgeous, tall and tatted and pierced and just... fuck. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t intimidated by his presence.

But in reality, he was a sweetheart. A gentleman.

So why did you start feeling butterflies for him too?

Having a crush on two people just seemed so out of this world to you that you didn’t even understand it. It made no sense. You and Dominic had known each other longer, and you weren’t dumb—you knew he liked you back. But with Colson.. you didn’t know if those butterflies were in your stomach, or if they were somewhere were they definitely, definitely shouldn’t fucking be.

You were good at controlling yourself when it came to these two. It had been a few weeks since you’ve met Colson and two months since you met Dominic. They were working on music together—a song, that they didn’t know what to title yet, and you were right there, helping them with everything.

This also meant that they were together. All. Of. The. Time.

Having two extremely attractive men, men that you were also extremely attracted too together all the time was going to be very bad for your health. But all three of you had a main goal at the end of the day, and that was to make a song together. They wanted to make a song that pertained to them, that took both of their struggles and related them to each other. Being Dominic’s right-hand-man at this point, you were more than happy to oblige in helping.

But you just didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

“Maybe some shit that’s like, kinda emo, kinda not?”

“Kells, man... you need to /make/ that make sense.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, smiling when both of their heads turn towards you.

“Y’all are just cute when you bicker.”

“Y/NNNNN,” Colson whines a little, his arms stretching to drape over your body. God, he has so many tattoos that you couldn’t possibly count them on your two hands and feet. “Help us. I’ve never been this stuck on a song.”

“Well, a mix of punk and rap, right?” You asked, humming as you scoot up to your monitor, going through a list of sample beats you always stored when songs were being made.

“That sounds ‘bout right,” Dominic spoke, both of his elbows being placed on his knees as he looked up at you. “Think that’s a perfect mix of us two, yeah?”

You picked out some beats—layering some, taking some away. While this process could be therapeutic to you, it could be also quite annoying, and it would’ve been if it wasn’t for the two grown men looming over your shoulder.

“What about this one,” you almost jumped as you heard Colson right near your ear, his voice powered into a whisper. He reached over you, his skin brushing against yours and you had to force yourself to look at the screen. Jesus Christ, you really needed to get laid. “How’s that?”

“‘ts good. I like it fo’ now!” Dominic joked, and a laugh rumbled in you stomach. “If we don’t like it, we could always change it tomoro or somethin’.”

“Okay, well, beats settled... now we need some lyrics.” you spoke, backing up a little—you would’ve backed up farther if Colson’s arm wasn’t on the back of your chair. “Got any?”

Silence. You rolled your eyes—you had told them days prior to come with lyrics. Nothing had to rhyme, but something to make an idea off of.

“Too busy clubbing to write lyrics-great.” you huffed, shaking your head as you stood to leave, but two hands reached out to stop you.

“Sorryyy, that’s our fault, really.” Colson spoke, locking eyes with you when you turned to look at the both of them. “Let’s make some together, yeah? All three of us motherfuckers. You know we couldn’t make up good lyrics without you anyway.”

You caved. Goddammit, he was so good at charming you and so good at fucking /flirting/. You found yourself sitting back down with a notebook out in just a few minutes of playful begging from the two of them.

“Since I watched The Hills Have Eyes for the first time yesterday with you two wankstains, I think that should be incorporated into here~” Dominic giggled, scribbling down the title of the infamous horror movie on a piece of notebook paper. “Where did all that shit happen, by the way? New York, Cali, Las Ve-“

“No, dipshit, Nevada. Did you watch the movie at all?” Colson huffed, reaching over to flick Dominic in the center of his forehead, in which the British male playfully bit down on Colson’s finger. The blonde grinned, and your eyebrows furrowed. What the hell?

“Nevada’s by Cali so we’re using California.” Dominic shrugged, scribbling more words down. “How’s... I wunna hide in the hills of California—but these hills have eyes, and I have paranoia?”

It took you a minute but you eventually nodded at it. “If we revise it a little bit then—yeah, that could work!”

“Awesome! Maybe you should get on your shit, Kells.” Dominic teased him, pink tongue pointing out at Colson, and your lips twitched.

“Fuck off.” Colson continued that grin—that little smirk, like they both knew something you didn’t. The day dragged on—more lyrics, more laughing, more inside jokes. By the time the session ended you were exhausted, your head kinda hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to head home and sleep, but Dominic stopped you before you left completely.

“Are you alright?” he asked, your hand in his as he looked at you with slight worry. His hair was pushed back, so he looked just too adorable with his forehead out and crinkled. He was worried. Worried about you, and that made your heart flutter.

“I think I’m good, just a little tired,” you offered a reassuring smile, lifting your bag up to your shoulder. “Why?”

“You seemed a little out of it,” he remarked, keeping your hand in his as he started to walk next to you. This was normal—Dominic walking you out to your car, then watching you drive to your apartment after he gave you a kiss goodbye, of course; some of them were on your forehead, some cheeks, and most recently, he’s teasingly brushed his lips against yours, only to see you blush and frantically push him away. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’ll be okay, Dom,” you snicker, but you just love the fact that he can see through you. See when you’re uncomfortable or feel weird. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course darlin’,” his voice has dropped in volume and when you look at him, his eyes are boring into yours. You blink. “Drive home safe, yeah?!”

Both of his hands grab your face, squishing your cheeks—and you sputter a laugh as he kisses all over your face. Covering your forehead, your nose, your cheeks—and finally resting at your lips.

It’s like time has stopped. You smile, feeling warm—his hands haven’t left your face and you can feel his warm breath against your mouth. He leans in closer, and you feel that familiar thrum in your chest, his lips brushing against yours one, two, three times, before he only pecks you and pulls away.

You don’t even remember closing your eyes, but when they open, he’s walking back into the building, leaving you feeling lost.

To make it up for you for yesterday, the dynamic duo wanted to spend the entire day getting a good portion of the song done. This meant you had to wake up at nine am to be at the studio, something you were definitely not looking forward to, but you couldn’t complain about it. You three had a pretty good work ethnic, so you knew once you would get there, time would probably fly by.

You came to the studio in some fuzzy Hello Kitty pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt, not bothering to dress up too much since you would possibly be here all day. You didn’t look your best, but by the way Dominic’s eyes scanned you when you walked into the studio, you doubted he really cared.

“Well hello kitty-kat,” you heard Colson’s amused tone from the small couch by the door behind you, his body approaching yours to walk past you. His hand slipped over your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Doesn’t Y/N just look the absolute cutest.”

“Shut up, asshole.” You grumbled, your cheeks hot as you ditched your slippers and made your way to your seat. You stretched, hearing some bones crack in your back, a tired yawn leaving your lips before returning to your sitting position and opening up your notebook. “So. Where are we starting today?”

When you looked up, both of them looked a little dazed—but the expressions disappeared in just a few seconds. That was weird.

“Welllll, I think I’ve got a title,” Dominic grinned cheekily, standing up with his hands clasped. “I liked what ya said yesterday... I think I’m good. That sounds pretty—American, doesn’t it?”

“Eh...” you started, but quickly took it back when Dominic’s face fell almost comically. “No! It’s not bad, but, I don’t know... how about another word, other than good?”

“Fine?” Dominic asked, looking at you with a smirk. Confusion racked through you.

“Okay,” Colson spoke up, reading over the page of lyrics with narrowed, concentrated eyes. “I think I’m okay.”

You contemplated it. It reminded you of My Chemical Romance, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that... their fans would probably like that, too.”

“I think I’m okay. Yeah, I like that.” you smiled, moving to your monitor to title the beats you already had. I Think I’m Okay.

“Perfect.” you beamed. “Now let’s get to work.”

The day went by pretty smoothly. Dominic and Colson worked better than you thought, and in your opinion, you were the icing to their cake. Being a producer meant you were there to perfect things—add something to make them sound just a tad bit better, to make the song flow just a little smoother. Perfecting the beats was something you absolutely adored to do, especially when you felt them both staring at the side of your face as you did it.

They admired you. And that sent shivers down your spine.

“Jesus fuck, ‘m hungry.” you grumbled. The clock above your head read two pm, meaning you had been here for six hours total. It wouldn’t have seemed like that if your stomach wasn’t grumbling like crazy.

“We can tell.” Colson joked, his fingers poking at your tummy. “Kitty’s talking to us.”

You knew it didn’t mean to be an innuendo, but you took it that way, and you’re sure Dominic probably did too with the expression that crossed his face.

“I’ll order some pizza.” Dominic sung out, British accent flowing through the air as he stood to grab his phone and leave. You had been alone with Colson once before, but that was before you recognized your attraction towards the male. Now, you were very, very aware of the fact.

“Cmon kitty, you’ve been sitting in that chair for hours and I know that ass hurts,” Colson smirked knowingly, grabbing your hands to lift you out of your seat. “Lemme help you stretch~”

“I don’t need help, you damn skyscraper.” You said stubbornly, but Colson paid no mind to you, grabbing both of your arms and lifting them above your head. It did make you feel much better, and you would’ve stayed in the position if his long fingers didn’t suddenly dig in your sides and under your armpit.

“I-get off of me!” you laughed loudly, squirming in his tight hold as he squeezed you even closer to his body. You could feel his chest press against your back, but you weren’t focused on it, just how much you were laughing from his antics.

“Hell nah! I’ve barely seen you laugh today, kitty~” he purred into your ear, and your thighs clenched. “Keep on fighting, nothing will happen babe.”

“Fuck you!” you shouted, successfully finding your way out of his grasp, but that didn’t stop him at all. He grabbed you again and while he did so, you were moving backwards—eventually landing you both on the small couch in the room. You wiggled your arms through his grip, letting your fingers dig into his sides in a similar manner—and your smile hurt with how loud he started laughing afterwards. You were sure after the short five minutes the tickle attack took that you were all over the place, and so was he—panting on top of you with both arms over your body.

“You’re an asshole.” you murmured against his shoulder, since his body was draped over yours. You wished it would’ve stayed that way, because he lifted himself, and you turned into jelly with how he looked at you—and that stupid fucking grin that spread across his face.

“Got you to laugh, didn’t I?” he asked, rolling off of you. The warmth that left your body—from your stomach, ribs, and a few inches below your bra, told you that the tickle fight was much, much more than that.

A month had passed since that day. It was more then enough time for more tension filled encounters—more of Colson’s hands on you, more of Dominic’s teasing kisses. It had gotten so bad that you needed to excuse yourself in the middle of a session to calm yourself down in the bathroom, because holy hell. Those boys were a lot—and the fact you had the audacity to think about taking both of them at once. You literally could never.

The song wasn’t that hard to make. With a few more helping hands, plus your expertise and their work as well, it was nearly done. Final vocals just needed to be recorded and some cleans up—and then, I Think I’m Okay would be released to the world.

This Friday would be a night that all three of you would go out clubbing, but you decided to visit the studio to listen to the rough draft the two had recorded previously. You were in matching all black outfits which definitely wasn’t planned. The dress you were wearing was a bit out of your comfort zone, but you decided—why not? You wouldn’t be the only girl there and you knew you looked decent, at least.

“Wow,” you murmur, a little speechless as the rough vocals of I Think I’m Okay fill the studio at full volume. The lights are off because it’s dark, so the only source of light in the room is your monitor. “Wow. We fucked this up.”

“What?!” Dominic shouted, eyes wide. You laughed.

“Not in that way! I mean, we fucked this, in a really good way.” you said, excited, bouncing a little in your seat. “Fuuuck, can’t wait to release this shit.”

Colson’s hand is hot and heavy when you feel it against your thigh, playing with the hem of your dress. “Couldn’t do it without you, kitty.”

You swallow. No, not tonight. You were going to have fun tonight. Not be in a state of sexual frustration because of these two.

“Right,” Dominic hummed, and you freeze when his arm wraps around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. “Y/N, I never really thank ya properly for all you do for me, do I?”

“Huh? Of course you do.” you tell him, but you’re a bit distracted by Colson’s wandering hand. It shifts, moving to the inside of your thigh, rubbing softly at your skin. His thumb is close, too close to your pussy, but you don’t push his hand away, because you don’t want to.

You like it. You want his hand to come closer, just a little closer—

“I don’t,” Dominic whispers, those thick lips brushing against your ear, and you almost jump out of your skin. “I should.”

“Dom...” you whisper nervously, eyes widening when his hand slides to the middle of your back and up your spine, fingers locking at the zipper. The slide of your dress being unzipped goes along perfectly o the tempo of the song, and so does Colson’s molding of your thigh, his hand eventually finding way because your closed legs, pressing right up against your underwear.

“Think the kitty wants me,” Colson sighs huskily, and your jaw drops. Holy fuck. “Am I wrong?”

“Is he?” Dominic presses when you don’t answer, his hand somehow making its way inside your dress, finding its way to your sleeves and yanking them down. Oh, fuck. “Ya want us both, don’t ya darlin’?”

“Oh my god.” is all you can whisper, earning chuckles from both of the men who play so deviously with your body. Colson finds your clit with no help at all, pressing against the little bud, right as Dominic takes both of your breasts out of your bra and palms them hungrily. Two sets of hands touching you makes your head roll back, and you can only comply as one of Colson’s hands presses against your left thigh, spreading your legs open.

“Put your legs on the desk for me, pretty,” he whispers and you do so, heels still on your feet. “Mm, yeah, that’s good—damn, look at you. So fucking hot.”

To your surprise, it seems like Colson is doing most of the talking, since Dominic’s mouth finds itself on one your perked nipples. He sucks it into his mouth, making it all pert and wet and your toes curl against the velvet surface of your shoe.

“When I had you on that couch, I wanted to ram the shit out of you, even if you were wearing those stupid ass pants,” Colson tells you, slipping your panties to the side and dragging his fingers up your slit. You’re almost embarrassed from how wet you sound. “Had to remember the British cunt has a little crush on you, though. Didn’t wanna break his heart.”

“Fuck off, ya asshole.” Dominic’s mouth leaves your breast, cheeks red at the fact that he was just exposed like that. “I was gonna tell her that my fookin self!”

“You’re telling me she didn’t know?” Colson chuckled, one of his hands grabbing your chin to roll your head towards him. “Did you?”

“Mmf—I-I knew,” you murmured helplessly, your back aching as two long, thin fingers push inside of you, spreading themselves. “Always knew.”

“But I like you too, kitty, maybe like you even more than him,” Colson smirks, his mouth pressing against yours, and you bite down on his lip when Dominic bites down against your nipple. “Now we’re both gonna make our girl cum.”

Our girl.

You could cum from those words alone.

Colson’s fingers work magic inside of you, pressing further until you feel lightheaded, then easing themselves out and repeating the process. Dominic’s fingers find your clit, rubbing it quicker then the pink vibrator you used before even getting dressed. Your hands are against both of their thighs as your body grinds down against them, both of their mouths meeting yours at different times, kissing you or letting you moan out against their mouths. I Think I’m Okay plays over and over again with no one to stop it, hiding your loud sounds.

You’re close. So, so close, but you don’t want to cum without giving them some type of pleasure—so, to the best of your ability, you start to unzip their pants, bulges very angry underneath the fabric.

“Ooh, fook yeah,” Dominic whispers, taking his jeans off quickly and wrapping your hand around his cock, going cross eyed at the feeling. “Yeah, jerk my fuckin cock.”

Colson isn’t too far behind in revealing himself. You try to stroke them both, but you’re so overwhelmed that sometimes your pace quickens on one and slows on the other. Their bodies are pressed as tightly as they can be against yours, and sometimes wet fingers find their way against your neck, or grabbing at your chests—with wide open mouths against your face.

“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” your pant out, your hips rolling in circles and your grip on their cocks growing even tighter, causing them to make their own sounds of delight. “So close-“

“Cum, kitty kitty,” Colson tells you, his lips wrapping around your earlobe. “Soak this fucking chair, pretty.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Dominic busts right after you, feeling your clit spasm against his fingers was enough to send him over the edge. Colson isn’t too far behind, getting extra leverage because of both of your cum covered hands jerking him off until he shoots his seed out as far as it can go. It’s a heavenly sight, and for the first time you hear him whimper—a sound that’ll be engraved in your mind for days.

You three sit there, panting, covered in sweat and cum. You lick your lips, your hearing picking up the two shifting to clean you up and dress you, much to your confusion.

“What? You think you were gonna cum once tonight and that would be it?” Colson chuckled, already helping you out of your chair.

“Just wait till we get to this club,” Dominic continues, his hand tightly groping your ass. “You’re gonna have the night of your fucking life.”

And you’re certain that you will.

[glimmerglanger]

I really liked TS - I thought you treated some potentially very icky issues on power and abuse between Ben and Jango with thoughtfulness. Are you taking requests? Because if so I have some! (I also sometimes struggle with fic requests because clearly, as the author, you ended the story where you thought it was best to be ended...but we are greedy creatures...) I’m very curious about the Jedi that Jango delivered as bounty - Dooku? Does that come into play when Jango delivers an ass whooping on Qui-Gon? I would also love to see the first time they’re intimate post freedom, maybe from Ben’s perspective? And maybe a moment when Jango hears what’s happening with the new mandalorians vs death watch? I feel like he would be conflicted, but make a conscious decision to stay out of it. So! Many! Thoughts!

Thank you! I am generally into doing snippets after long fics. I like playing in the space for a while, it brings me joy. I decided to did into Ben’s POV on them getting intimate the first time. 

This takes place roughly two years after the ending (or three years before the coda). Jangobi. SPICY. Not Safe For Wizards. Mentions of past trauma, but no major warnings. It’s mostly Ben thinking, honestly.

~~~~~~~~

Ben relearned how to want things slowly.

Sometimes, on particularly bad days, he wondered if he’d ever known how to want things in the first place.

He couldn’t be sure, one way or the other, and, really, it didn’t matter in a practical way, so he left the thoughts slide away. Instead, he spent his time learning what kinds of food he wanted to eat, what kinds of teas he wanted to drink - he no longer had to rely solely on what was brought to him - and how he wanted to sleep…

He learned how to want all those things. Basic things. Things other people probably knew how to want automatically, and--

Sometimes, his head got so loud, so noisy with memories of why he didn’t. The weight had a way of pressing down on him, crowding into his throat and his chest, smothering and thick. He learned, before they ever landed on Yulion, that Jango made that go away.

Jango felt things...strongly. He had since the first time they met, when he broadcast a need for help so clear and sharp that it had cut through everything else. He’d felt like a drowning man, thrashing around desperately.

Ben had been taught how to help those drowning, in another life. Received warnings that, if you got too close to a foundering soul, they could push you down, as well, unintentionally and in a panic. Those drowning often drowned uncautious rescuers. But that wasn’t a good reason to allow someone to perish.

Jango had radiated a desperation for help, so Ben had helped him.

He still did, sometimes. But there was something...below that need for help, ever and always. Ben didn’t have words for exactly what it was that he felt from Jango, as they lived together. But it made his chest warm and achy. It chased away the tightness in his throat and the memories in his head that made him want to pull himself to pieces.

He could press close to Jango and feel, with certainty, that he was wanted. Safe. Secure. Jango used the word ‘love’ for how he felt. That felt like a good descriptor, Ben decided, eventually. It was...warming and wonderful. Ben wanted to pull it all around himself some days, some nights, after nightmares.

Jango seemed happy enough to let him. When Ben requested that he keep feeling that way - haltingly - he always went still, and Ben could feel him trying to modulate his surface emotions and it was--endearing. Ben could not find a way to tell him that the underlying base of what he felt didn’t change, anyway.

Perhaps someday he’d find a way.

He hadn’t, by the time he realized he was learning how to want other things. The realization slipped in slowly, as the two year anniversary of their arrival on the planet eased closer. He found himself watching Jango more, as he cooked or cleaned his weapons, found himself aching oddly as they spoke softly together after getting Ani to sleep, found himself breathing faster, when Jango curled around him - body and feelings - in bed.

They’d been married almost a year. He’d expected, at first, that Jango would become impatient with waiting for him. But he seemed content enough to...handle things himself. Ben felt it, distantly, when Jango touched himself in the fresher, the twist in his emotions and wants a shining kind of beacon.

The first time Ben idly imagined joining him, his cheeks flushing at the thought, he ended up standing outside, staring up at the sky and dragging a hand back through his hair. Ani followed him out and insisted they play tag, which, at least, thoroughly took Ben’s mind off of matters.

But the thoughts recurred. The wants returned, even when Jango wasn’t feeling any particular wants at all. Which meant, Ben was increasingly sure, that the desires were his own.

Ben shivered, considering the scope and breadth of what he felt. It was...strange. But not unpleasant. His gut flooded with warmth, the next time he leaned in to kiss Jango, something they did, occasionally. Ani was sleeping, safe and snug in his bed, his presence in the Force gone slow and peaceful with dreams. 

And Jango felt--so good, his mouth and his hand, curved against Ben’s cheek, his wants and emotions curling out between them. No one else had ever felt the way he did. It was one of the reasons Ben had so much difficulty classifying the emotions he picked up.

Those thoughts fled, in the moment, as Ben settled closer, warm all over, fingers tangled in Jango’s hair. They’d been on the couch. Ben had been reading, he thought, before he started kissing Jango, and--

And he couldn’t recall why he cared what he’d been doing. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, changing the angle of the kiss, and Jango made a sound against his mouth, shifting a little closer and then checking his movement. 

Jango pulled back, blinking a few times and turning his face to the side. He cleared his throat and said, “I think I’m going to hit the fresher,” like a code, as though Ben didn’t know exactly what he planned to do in the fresher, and--

“Don’t,” Ben said, the word slipping out as he reached out, curling fingers around Jango’s wrist.

“Ben,” Jango said, his voice thick. He glanced over and said, eyes all dark, “I’ll come back. I just--”

“I’d like you to stay,” Ben said, wetting his bottom lip without thinking about it. “Or--for both of us to go. Maybe to your room.”

Jango stared at him for a long beat. “You want to be held?” It was a fair question. Ben often did. 

His heart beat a little faster in his chest and he said, feeling a flush creeping over his cheeks, “No. Not really. I want--” He shifted closer, slid his hand over Jango’s thigh, and Jango sucked in a breath when Ben found him hard “--to help with this.”

“It’s--that’s--” Jango swore and visibly marshalled himself. “You don’t have to. I’m perfectly capable of handling it on my own, so--”

“I know I don’t have to,” Ben cut in, and there was a giddy kind of joy to hearing the words and knowing they were true. He could feel that Jango meant it. “I want to. Do you want me to?”

The question felt silly, for a beat. He could feel how much Jango wanted, could feel what he wanted; hands on skin and mouths brushing together and soft gasped sounds. “Yes,” Jango told him, swallowing hard, “I do--” And Ben leaned towards him, and his fingers were in Jango’s hair, then, his mouth sliding against Jango’s, warm and welcoming.

Jango wanted, so badly. Ben felt it, shivering as Jango slid a palm up Ben’s thigh. Ben managed to get a hand under Jango’s shirt, on warm, familiar skin, as Jango rasped out, “Ani could wake up.”

“I’ll know if he does,” Ben murmured back, reassuring. Ani felt deeply asleep. Content and safe. “Please.”

Jango made a ragged sound, and Ben was willing to admit that perhaps adding the please had been slightly unfair. Jango wanted him to have the things he wanted. And that was--heady, as Jango pulled him into a kiss, one Ben was delighted to melt into, the pair of them slowly sliding sideways, until they were sprawled out on the couch. 

It didn’t take much effort to undo the closures on Jango’s slacks. He was hard, his cock familiar when Ben curled fingers around him. Jango made a ragged sound, kissing across Ben’s cheek, to his jaw. Jango’s beard rasped against his skin, a flare of sensation as Ben shifted his grip, tilting his head back, aching, thinking about the best way to bring Jango off and--

“Do you want--” Jango broke off, shoving up on one arm, eyes dark and breathtaking. “Do you--” He shifted his hand, fingers dragging down Ben’s stomach and, oh. Ben had barely realized he’d gotten hard, himself. “Can I…?”

“Please,” Ben rasped out, again, and took Jango’s wrist, pushing his hand further down, enough that he could rock up into the pressure. Jango swore, quietly, and tugged at the closures on his pants, radiating want and--

Feeling someone want, more than anything, to make him feel good was something Ben had not been able to imagine, a few years ago.

It made his spine arch, made him groan, made him hard and aching and wet and--

“Gonna take care of you,” Jango rasped, and kissed him again. Ben nodded, half-senseless all at once. He could feel that Jango meant it. Jango had meant it for so long. Tried and succeeded and--

Ben buried his fingers in Jango’s hair, when Jango shifted down his body, bit his lip to muffle the sounds he wanted to make, somewhat, at the touch of Jango’s mouth over his skin. He was so close to the edge already when Jango licked across the head of his cock, mouth warm and hot and unexpected and--

Ben felt himself rock up; he felt electrified, throbbing and so full of wants and demands from his body. For a moment he wondered if Jango had somehow learned how to read wants, too, because he bobbed his head and slid a hand between Ben’s legs, thumb brushing back and forth, so perfect.

Ben went off like a shot, like the blasters Jango had insisted on teaching him to shoot, barely able to strangle out a sound. Jango swallowed, and Ben made a ragged sound, feeling good and achy at the same time, inside of his body, a whisper of other wants getting louder.

He set them aside, focusing enough to hear Jango breathing raggedly down by his hips. He’d turned his face against Ben’s thigh, muscles tense, an arm stretched back. Ben managed to raise his head enough to watch Jango jerk himself hard and fast, emotions flashing over all hot and good and buoyant when he came.

For a moment, they just slumped there, breathing heavily. “Oh,” Ben managed, finally, tingling from head to toe. 

Jango snorted, cheek still pressed against Ben’s thigh. He shifted, wiping his hand on his shirt and then, with a little frown, pulling the shirt off and mopping it across Ben’s stomach. He asked, voice all warm and thick, “Was that...what you wanted, Ben?”

“Mm.” Ben nodded, trailing touches over Jango’s skin. “Yes,” he said, and then, learning all kinds of things, “I want to do it again.”

Jango’s head snapped up, and Ben couldn’t help but smile at the expression on his face. Jango said, tone darker, “You…?”

“Now,” Ben told him, “I want to do it again now.” And Jango made a hoarse noise, falling into him, kissing him while Ben wrapped both arms around him and just...felt, for a while.

[mercurial-madhouse]

@lululawrence asked, Hiiiii could you write me a friends to lovers a/b/o drabble?? Pairing of your choice! I'd be super happy if you REALLY leaned into the pining and/or resolution of pining :D

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*< 

Got My Heart Out (You’re the truth I can’t explain)

“Alright?”

Louis doesn’t turn from the table he’s leaning over, arms spread as he stares at the array of tools—ropes, knives, grappling hooks, other items to help them go unnoticed—neatly laid out before him. “Should I be?”

The harsh light from the bare bulb on the far end illuminates the knot of tension between Louis’ shoulders. Compared to Louis’s countless crossings, Harry’s not nearly as experienced, but if Harry thought the journey perilous before, it’s deadly now.

“Hate that word, should. Nothing good ever comes from it,” Harry mutters.

His nostrils flare at the barrage of emotions coming off of Louis that up until a week ago no alpha could smell. Unease, doubt, and anger seep into the grounding scent of sandalwood and snapdragons. Neither are found in the concrete jungle of a city they live in. Even Louis’ scent is an anomaly, uplifting and invigorating.

Though it’s only Louis’s decision and Harry’s got no right, he still struggles against every alpha instinct wanting to call the whole mission off. Louis’s too special to him. Harry keeps his arms crossed, gripping his biceps to urge his body to stay in place.

He’s not subtle enough. Louis catches his reaction. Harry’s not surprised. Louis was already incredibly perceptive before he presented with all the extra-sensory skills of an omega.

Jaw clenching, Louis hikes his coat up further, popping the collar in an attempt to cover his scent. “Well you shouldn’t be here, Haz.”

Irritation pricks at the back of Harry’s neck. He clamps his alpha down. Most of their small band is asleep in the other room, gathering what little rest they can before the trip across the border tomorrow, but Harry’s right where he needs to be. With Louis.

Harry closes the distance between them until the inebriating scent from the newly-presented omega nearly overwhelms him. Learning to balance both genders with their pheromones yet to settle, those who’ve just presented have the strongest scents.

In this world, Louis’ scent is a death sentence. They both know they’re racing fate, luck, and time now. If all goes well, and that’s a massive if, they’ve got just enough scent blocker to mask Louis for the crossing.

Louis sucks in a breath, eyes closing. He holds it in as Harry steps up beside him.

“Staying away from you isn’t going to help.” It’s never helped Harry at least. Some mornings it feels like his only reason to keep risking it all is for the chance to be near Louis. “You need to get used to our scents or it’ll slow you down too.”

Being this close to Louis is a lesson in strength Harry thought he didn’t need anymore. Everything about Louis was intoxicating to Harry before Louis presented. Now his alpha has joined this grim game. Harry may as well have presented yesterday rather than two years ago at sixteen for all the fighting he’s having to do.

“I’m twenty. This shouldn’t be fucking happening. Who d’you know that presented after eighteen?” Louis’s fingers curl against the tabletop, nails catching in old scars gouged into the wood.

Head down, messy strands shield most of his face from Harry’s view. Harry longs to run his fingers through them, find out if Louis’s hair is as silky as it seems. Harry digs his nails into his palms until twin flashes of pain shoot up his arms, popping the desire before it can lodge in his muscles and become action.

“Been smuggling omegas over the border for four years because at least Southbank treats them as equals.” Louis’ shoulders tense. “If Westminster finds out about me they’ll put a price on my head and send every soldier they’ve got after me. Fuck knows what Southbank will do, but a male omega? Even if I don’t have- they sure as hell won’t let me go free.”

Harry refuses to dwell on what Louis didn’t say. Keeping Louis’ second gender a secret from everyone but the five of them is going to be near impossible enough. Even after a week, the memory of the powerful shock-laced scent pervading their home the morning Louis presented has Harry’s heart beating double-time and his mouth watering. They won’t have much warning before his first heat and right now none of them have any ideas what they’ll do when it happens.

He wishes he had any answers at all.

Louis jerks a hand, motioning at the supplies. “And now I’m stuck trying not to be sick from the thought of picking up a knife. Cards are really stacked right now, Haz.”

And they’ve got no choice. Success hinges on following through with the plan. They don’t have time to change the rendezvous hour. If they’re not over the border in Westminster on time, the group of refugees on the other side risk capture and Louis’s whole system in danger of discovery.

Louis ducks his chin, shaking his head before brushing his fringe aside. The action is ingrained in Louis when he’s agitated, but Harry nearly groans as a fresh wave of sandalwood hits him.

He latches onto Louis’s wrist. “Don’t—!” He needs to back up. It’s not fair to put this on Louis.

Harry forgets what he needed to do when Louis’s head jolts up, facing Harry for the first time since Harry got here. Harry didn’t realize how close they’d gotten. Features a little paler than usual, the dark circles under Louis’s eyes are stark in the unfiltered light as his brows knit in confusion.

Of course Louis wouldn’t understand. He’s been a beta for twenty years.

Harry forces himself to let go, but he only makes it as far as gripping Louis’s coat instead. “Try not to—” his head jerks as he nods. “That makes it stronger.”

Harry’s not sure if Louis heard him.

Noses nearly touching, Louis sways once, reeling forward then away. Pupils blown wide, his gaze flicks from Harry’s eyes to his lips. Louis’s forehead thuds into his own, eyes fluttering shut.

“Shit,” Louis breathes, shaky fingers winding into the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. He inhales, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Smell like fucking treacle, Hazza.”

Fuck. Louis’s been deliberate about staying away from Harry, but how long has he kept himself at arm’s length from everyone?

With all his willpower tangled up in not tipping Louis up to catch those lips against his own, Harry’s arms wrap unbidden around Louis’s waist, crushing their hips together. Harry’s alpha settles with Louis against him, but his heart explodes.

It’s only Louis’s omega talking. An omega that’s just presented in a dangerous land and hasn’t been touched in days.

Latching onto that mantra to keep his mind clear, Harry cradles the back of Louis’s head instead, drawing Louis’s face down to his neck. He doesn’t need to say anything. Louis’s instincts kick in and he breathes deeply, body curving into Harry’s as he scents him. A deep shiver rocks through Louis, his muscles relaxing.

Harry tightens his grip, suppressing a shudder as Louis’s tongue grazes his throat. “Lou—”

Harry’s too busy fighting himself to resist when Louis launches himself backwards. Eyes wide but clear, Louis starts to shove fingers through his hair but stops. He twists back to the table, flattening his palms against the surface like he’s forcing them to not wander.

“Go, Haz.”

Anxiety blossoms in Harry’s chest. “Lou, you—”

“Please just,” Louis cuts off, inhales, the hard edge gone when he says, “I need you to fucking go.”

Louis knows better. Three of his siblings are omegas. Everything they’re doing here revolves around helping omegas. Leaving won’t help Louis.

Harry presses his hand to the small of Louis’s back, hoping he’ll turn. “You need to—”

“I don’t care what my omega needs right now.” Louis throws the growl over his shoulder then stiffens, like he’s struggling to keep the commanding tone in his voice. “I’m still the head of this op and I need you to go.”

If it were any other omega, Harry would be grappling with his alpha all over again. Instead he places the entire room between them, pausing in the doorway. “Don’t sleep alone tonight. It’ll help. You know it will.”

Louis doesn’t respond. With one last look at the tension winding Louis’ shoulders again, Harry bites down every urge to stay with him. He disappears from the room, sending up a silent prayer that tomorrow’s mission won’t unravel at the seams.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

(Oh my! I’m in the middle of working on my first ABO fic for the @1daboficfest so how awesome was this chance to practice the trope?! Hopefully there’s enough pining! \o/ Thank you for the prompt, lovey! There was no way this one wanted to be less than 1k. Heh.)

Have something else you’d like to see me write? Go wild! Pairing, situation, feeling… Send me an ask (anon or not) completing the sentence ‘I wish you’d write a fic where…’

Superpowers Drabble

Invisible Drabble

Only one bed (H-POV)

Only one bed (L-POV)

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 13, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Distractions) 

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

This Fucking Turtle

The rock that Wei Wuxian and Wen Chao are standing on starts to move, because of course it does. It’s a tortoise shell, sort of. There are some problems with this ostensible tortoise. 

First, Murder Turtle a tortoise is technically a turtle don't @ me doesn't look anything like a turtle. I try really hard not to project my western mythologies onto Chinese works, but god dang this thing looks like the Loch Ness monster.

Second, its shell wobbles a bit, but there's no indication that the creature can move around the cave until much later. During an extended fight with several tasty cultivators, it stays put and just moves its head around.  

The immobility problem aside, it's not a terrible monster. After the hell dog, I'm relieved to have a normal CGI beastie where some things are done really pretty well. Its eyes and skin are particularly good.

What's not good are the teeth. When Murder Turtle closes its mouth, its long pointy upper teeth have nowhere to go, so they pierce its lower jaw and just sink in there. No wonder it's pissed off.

Its relationship with its shell is...well, let's save that for the next episode.

Irons in the Fire

Meanwhile,  Wang Lingjiao (Wen Chao's girlfriend) decides she's in the mood for barbequed MianMian, so she grabs a hot iron to burn her face.

Wei Wuxian to the rescue! He shoots three arrows at once and hits all three of his targets, in a move that he'll repeat with even more arrows at a later date.

Wang Lingjiao decides to throw the iron at MianMian, who decides not to duck, while Wei Wuxian leaps into the path of the iron and gets deeply burned on the chest through his clothing. This is absolutely definitely how time, things flying through the air, and branding irons work.

(more after the cut)

Jiang Cheng and Wen Zhuliu start fighting again. These two can't quit each other, almost like they have a date with destiny in their future.  Jiang Cheng shows off his purple bloomers while he and Wen Zhuliu try to outspin each other.

Camera operator: Why you gotta take it out on me?

Wen It’s Time To Say Goodbye

The Wens decide to dip, heading up the rock face and cutting the ropes behind them, which would be super inconvenient if several of the cultivators didn't know how to literally fly.

But they also put a bunch of rocks in the hole, while Wen Qing begs them not to do it.

Down at the bottom of the cave, everyone sits and chats, while Murder Turtle wishes it had legs so it could chase them. Oh wait, it does have legs, it just isn't ready to get out of the bath yet

Call the Waaambulance

MianMian is crying over all the nonsense the writers have put her through in this episode, and Wei Wuxian tries to cheer her up by talking to her like she's a toddler. On the plus side, he'll be a great dad for a toddler one day.

Jin Zixuan: I'm used to women crying around me, is that not typical?

Lan Wangji has got no time for cheering up crying girls, and starts heading back to the turtle bath, because he has figured out how they can escape. 

He and Wei Wuxian show off their mind reading abilities, where Lan Wangji explains absolutely nothing and Wei Wuxian perfectly understands him. See also: “Fortunately.” 

Rather than try to swim for it, the other cultivators want to hang around and wait to be rescued, or just generally feel like staying put and whining. 

Wei Wuxian takes charge through sheer force of personality, and makes Jiang Cheng go find the way out while he himself distracts Murder Turtle with fire.

Wei Wuxian can make talismans without 1. ink 2. a brush or 3. paper. He just needs his flesh and his unusually sharp incisors. He's so far ahead of everyone around him; how is a dude this talented ever going to be anyone's right hand man? He’s already on track to creating a new talisman-based school of cultivation, even if he never gets around to the whole necromancy thing.  

Swimming in the Pool, Swimming is Cool

The main group of cultivators go swimming while Wei Wuxian lights fires to keep the tortoise's attention. For some reason he just stands there when it's about to eat him...maybe he's mesmerized? Lan Wangji flings him out of harm’s way and gets his already-busted leg chomped on. 

Wei Wuxian pulls Lan Wangji to safety and tells the other cultivators to get going. Jiang Cheng doesn't want to, but Jin Zixuan convinces him.

For fans of homoerotic screen caps, this episode is a gold mine.

Murder turtle suddenly remembers he has legs, but Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji instantly find a room he can’t fit into, so they’re okay for the night.

Owie Owie Owie

Now we have an extended hurt/comfort session with our wounded heroes. Lan Wangji is bleeding, so Wei Wuxian...puts a splint made of sticks directly onto his unbandaged lacerations, and ties it with his pristine headband, which will remain pristine. Then he puts medicine on the lacerations.

This seems like a situation where the script said "broken leg" and the makeup department said "MOAR BLOOD" and nobody changed the direction to the actors. In any case, the sticks seem to help and bandages are not mentioned.

What is mentioned, of course, is the dreaded stale blood, which plagues many a c-drama hero, and has to be driven out through strong emotion. This is totally how the human circulatory system works. To be fair, there is probably a perfectly reasonable underlying concept in Chinese medicine that has been exaggerated for dramatic effect, so that every possible ailment or injury results in vomiting blood, sometimes sexily.

Wei Wuxian clears up the blood problem super quickly by offering to show Lan Wangji his dick, not to put too fine a point on it. Alas, he retracts the offer once the crisis has passed.

Once they settle down, Lan Wangji takes the opportunity to put some medicine on Wei Wuxian's burned tit, and to chide him for letting himself get injured. It's like he doesn't even know him. 

Wei Wuxian: I had no choice, because I am psychologically driven to sacrifice myself for other people at every opportunity. Get used to it, cupcake.

Wei Wuxian points out that MianMian is pretty and that it would be bad for her to have a mark on her face. Lan Wangji points out, not quite in so many words, that Wei Wuxian is pretty and now HE has a permanent mark. Before Lan Wangji ever got to see his bare chest, too.

Wei Wuxian says it's cool for men to have marks on their bodies. Preferably hickeys and rope burns, but scars are okay too. 

Lan Wangji: you're going to love my future body mods, then.

Then Wei Wuxian waxes poetic about having a pretty girl remember your heroism, and Lan Wangji gets jealous and cranky. Wei Wuxian misinterprets this, but not unreasonably, considering that Lan Wangji was putting his own body between MianMian and harm not all that long ago.

After some extended eye fucking followed by laughing and saying "no homo" for the censors, the conversation moves to a more serious place. 

Wei Wuxian engages in a little WangXian meta analysis, noting that Lan Wangji can tease him now, and is talking to him slightly more. Falling for a high-spirited, popular extrovert has been hard on Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian is also struggling with falling for a nearly-silent, crushingly-shy introvert. Wei Wuxian really does find Lan Wangji boring on one level, at the same time as finding him utterly compelling on other levels. 

Wei Wuxian starts to say something about the Lans and stops himself with this charming gesture. I've seen it here and there in c-dramas and I assume it's a thing in China. It's a perfect way for a hyperactive talker to say "I'm shutting up now" without using even more words to say it.

Lan Wangji finally, FINALLY tells Wei Wuxian - briefly - what happened to his home. Wei Wuxian, in one of those moments of empathy that they have more and more often as time goes on, asks about his loved ones, and forgoes any other questions.

Lan Wangji tells him that Lan Qiren is seriously injured and Lan Xichen is missing. Wei Wuxian is extremely concerned about one of these people.

When Lan Wangji falls asleep at 9pm on the button, Wei Wuxian tenderly covers him in his own robe, offering physical comfort in place of the emotional comfort Lan Wangji won’t let anybody give him. 

Then Wei Wuxian gazes at him like a lovestruck dope, before settling down beside him for the night. 

Soundtrack: Peter Gabriel, I Go Swimming

[yehet-about-it]

I Like Me Better | 23 - Bear Hugs

~ A Wayv Social Media AU Series ~

< Prev || Series Masterlist || Next >

Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new apartment with your best friend Yangyang, but you’re immediately faced with a problem: your incredibly noisy upstairs neighbour Xiao Dejun, or to friends, Xiaojun. You spend the first few weeks of your acquaintance hating his guts, but after a sincere apology and a fascinating revelation about his passions and motivations you slowly begin to see past his cold exterior to discover the real him. What will happen as you get closer to this troubled boy and how will those closest to you react?

Pairing: Reader x Xiao Jun

Themes and Warnings: Explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence and references to drinking/alcohol. Deals with themes of toxic masculinity, insecurity, gaslighting (sort of), and jealousy…

~ Updates now every Monday, Wednesday & Friday @ 9pm GMT/3pm CST

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Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter Warnings: A whole lot of fluff and a lil bit of smut towards the end... Sorry if you were expecting more smut but I legit cannot bring myself to write it for our smol boy 👀😅

Your shoulders ached as you shuffled into your living room having showered and made yourself just about presentable, compared to the sweaty state you were in earlier. You and some of your colleagues had been recruited for a stage at the Asia Song Festival this year and were now spending at least 8 hours a day in the studio practicing, hence why you felt like all the energy had been sucked from your body. Not that you could complain because it was a great opporunity, but 8 plus hours certainly took it out of you. What you really needed was cuddles, but since Yangyang wasn’t the huggy type and was out walking bella, and Kun was most likely still at work, for now you’d have to suffice with your oversized teddy.

You sigh as you waddle through the empty room, flopping down onto your imaginitively named Mr. Gom in the corner, wondering when Xiaojun would be here with your coffee, and just like magic, as soon as the thought pops into your head, the front door clicks and the man himself emerges from your hallway calling out to you.

“Y/n?” he calls, making his way into your living room, not having seen you tucked away in the corner, squished beneath your teddy bear’s oversized paw. “Here!” you call out, struggling to even lift your head, let alone stand up to greet him. Xiaojun’s face breaks out into a grin as he realises where the voice is coming from, his internal dialogue squealing over how incredibly endearing you look clinging onto the teddy in the corner.

“You okay down there?” he says with a tone of amusement, striding up to you, two cups of coffee in hand. You whine in response, indicating you are very much not okay and still laughing, Xiaojun sets the two coffees down on the table, taking his phone out and clicking a photo of you as you cuddle into your bear.

Hearing his phone camera click, you whip your head around, looking up at him with a pout. “Hey!” you whine, scowling at him with contempt, but seeing you curled up looking tiny next to the huge teddy bear Xiaojun can’t find it in him to put on a straight face and shrugs. “Heh, sorry, you looked kind of cute though.” Xiaojun chuckles, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Here.”

Xiaojun picks one of the coffees up off of the table and hands it to you. “You, xiaojun, are a life saver,” you utter, perking up a little as you graciously accept the warm creamy beverage from him, inhaling deeply as the rich scent of fresh coffee wafts up from your cup. Thank god you only live a five minute walk from Starbucks. “Oh you know, some do say I’m a bit of a hero,” he jokes, shrugging before picking up his own coffee from the table to sip on.

Crossing your legs, you rock yourself forward so you can stand up, being careful not to spill any of your coffee and wander over to sit on the couch. “So you were at Hendery’s?” You ask casually, taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, we were working out this evening, which is why I’m all sweaty, so I’m gonna go take a shower, but we can hang out after if you like?” Xiaojun asks, downing the remnants of his coffee which he’d of course drank the majority of on his walk back. “Sure, thanks for the coffee!” You reply, smiling despite being a little disappointed that he wasn’t staying. “No problem, see you in a bit”.

Xiaojun turns, seeing himself out of your apartment, leaving you to sip on your latte alone. You weren’t usually that desparate for company, quite happy by yourself unlike Yangyang, but you’d had a long day and you were growing to realise that Xiaojun was someone you wanted to be around at times like this, so as the door clicks behind him, you can’t help but feel a little sad, half wishing he would just come back and sit in a cuddle pile with you and Mr. Gom.

You sit alone with your thoughts for a while, wondering when the hell Yangyang would be back from walking Bella until your phone lights up with an instagram notification. Opening it, you look in dismay as you realise that Xiaojun has posted the picture of you slumped against Mr.Gom. After scowling at it for a while though, you decide that in fact it’ really sort of cute. After all, there he was, a stubborn and supposed ‘tough guy’ posting a picture of you looking all tiny, slumped against a giant ass bear, which by definition was pretty damn adorable.

You giggle as the comments roll in from Xiaojun’s friends, mentally facepalming when Yangyang decides to bring up your morning routine of flopping down on the bear and refusing to move for ten minutes. A blush rises across your cheeks though as you receive a message from Xiaojun. You hadn’t quite been expecting that, but right now you’d give your right arm to be curled up next to him. Despite your best efforts, you smile as you read Xiaojun’s invitation for you to go upstairs, leaping to your feet as quickly as possible given your aching muscles and go to grab your sliders to flip flop up the stairs in.

As soon as you get upstairs you knock tentatively on the door before pushing it open and calling out to Xiaojun. You’d been in his apartment a couple times before now, so instead of waiting for him to answer you find your way into the aparment and straight to the living room where Xiaojun is sat waiting on his sofa, scrolling through netflix on the tv. His soft dark brown locks unstyled and messy, still a little damp from the shower and you have a struggle to control your thirst as he turns to peer at you, highlighting his surprisingly elegant side profile. “Hey,” he regards, as you shuffle towards him. “Come sit.” Xiaojun pats the space next to him continuing to scroll through what netflix has to offer and you go to join him, opting to sit close to him but not so close that you’re touching. You don’t want to come off too needy.

“Still tired?” he aks as you settle into the cushions. “Mhm.” You hum in response, showing a weary smile, but trying your best not too seem like you’re too tired to be there. Despite your apparent need for sleep, you’d rather cuddle up in front of a film with him than sit in your empty apartment scrolling through the same old crap on your phone until you passed out. “You want to just put a film on and chill then? I have a blanket” Xiaojun says, nodding towards a fuzzy grey throw draped across the end of the couch. “That sounds perfect right now” you sigh, your fingers nervously pulling at the hem of your top. “What do you want to watch?”

After a minute or so of debating what to watch, you settle on one of the marvel films, and whilst Xiaojun fiddles with the remote, adjusting the volume, you set about getting the blanket off the end so you can snuggle up for the film. As you throw the blanket over you, Xiaojun shifts back a little to put his arm around you and you snuggle against his chest as though it were the most natural thing in the world, which comes as a bit of a surprise, considering you’d never really done this with Xiaojun before. However, happiness bubbles up in your chest as you sink into his warmth and begin to relax, curling up comfily in Xiaojun’s arms. “Mm you smell nice” you hum, noticing the fresh citrussy scent, on him, presumably from his shower. Nestling your cheek into Xiaojun’s collar he chuckles, the vibrations reverberating through his chest. “A lot better than earlier for sure”.

The film is one you’ve both seen before, so although you were quiet to start with, eventually you begin talking and by now you’re no longer really paying much attention to the screen.

Whilst you babble on about this or that, you begin to feel Xiaojun’s thumb absent-mindedly stroking up and down your waist where your top had ridden up, the sensation of it delicately brushing against your cool skin sending a pleasant tingle up your spine. The action, whilst it slowly began to set your body alight also seemed to have the effect of relieving a good part of the tension that had built up in your muscles over the course of the day and you start melting even further into Xiaojun, feeling a sense of bliss wash over you. Xiaojun picks up on this, and his ministrations become more deliberate, now using his whole hand to caress your waist, the tips of his fingers dipping ever so slightly into your waistband, but not invasively.

At this point you’d finished whatever you’d had to say and were now just revelling in the warm feeling of being curled up against Xiaojun, the only sound to be heard the voices of captain america and presumably some other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the background.

Shifting your head to look up at Xiaojun, you find him looking not at the screen but straight back down at you, your faces just mere inches apart and whatever you had been thinking of saying completely vanished from your mid as Xiaojun’s head bobs down, pressing a light kiss to your lips. You smile against him as he pulls away, just barely leaving an inch between you. He seems to be hesitating for a moment, not entirely sure whether it’s okay to continue, but you can’t help but want more, so you angle yourself round a little, placing your free hand at the bottom of his neck, squeezing encouragingly and bring your lips back to his. Xiaojun, all too happy to return the kiss, quickly finds a rhythm, not fast, but slow and sensual, the exact kind of kiss you need in your tired hazy state.

As the kiss deepens, Xiaojun pushes you back slightly so you’re tucked into the corner of the couch beneath him, your legs draped over his and his hand, that until now had been resting innocently just above your knee, starts to softly knead at your flesh through your leggings, moving ever so slightly higher sending small jolts through your nerves to your core. “This is okay right?” He whispers, drawing away momentarily, and looking down at you with concern, his big chocolatey eyes baring into yours. You nod quickly, surrendering yourself to Xiaojun’s touch and letting out a small whine when he resumes, planting small, sensuous kisses up your jawline.

Soon the fingers that had been gently brushing across the skin of your waist begin to venture slowly down over your panties, getting further until they reach between your legs and you moan lightly, involuntarily arching your back into Xiaojun’s touch. This really hadn’t been where you were envisioning this night going, expecting just a wholesome evening of cuddles, since you and Xiaojun’s relationship wasn’t really at that stage yet, but honestly, you didn’t mind all that much.

You let out a gasp, gripping at the nape of his neck as Xiaojun suddenly pushes your panties aside, drawing one of his fingers through your slick testing to see if you might be ready for more. Finding that you’re plenty wet enough, the same finger swirls around your bud a few times before it’s removed completely. “Can I take these off?” He says huskily, fingering the waistband of your leggings and panties.

You almost nod, wanting to give into the desire bubbling up in your core, but you hesitate, wondering that perhaps you weren’t ready to take things that far just yet. Sure, you were getting a lot closer with Xiaojun by now, but you’d still only been on the one date and you were still trying to figure out exactly what you really wanted from this relationship. You weren't sure you wanted to cross that threshold until you were absolutely certain about it.

Sensing your hesitation, Xiaojun draws away slightly, respectfully allowing you space to breathe as you make up your mind. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, I don’t want to rush you.” He whispers, continuing to rub soothing circles into your skin just above your pants. “I’m sorry,” you murmur back, having come to a conclusion. “Can we maybe just make out?”

Your bashful request makes Xiaojun giggle as you wear a sheepish expression, a teeny bit embarrassed you’d let it go so far only to cop out on him right when things were starting to get a bit steamy. But Xiaojun smiles back at you, running a hand through his hair as he sits up, taking his weight off you. “If that’s what you want, sorry if I got a bit ahead of myself” he admits.

Gently taking your hand, Xiaojun helps you sit up, before sliding you to sit on his lap facing him. Perhaps not the best position for seeing the tv screen, but by now the film was all but forgotten about, and it was the best position for making out in. “Sorry,” you reiterate, settling on his lap with your hands placed against his chest, taking note of the apparent abs that seemed to lie under his shirt. “It’s not you or anything, I’m just not sure I’m ready yet.”

You speak softly wanting to reassure him he didn’t do anything wrong, looking down at him with adoring eyes, the lust you had felt momentarily starting to dissipate into affection. “That’s okay,” he replies, giving you a playful peck on the lips.

You respond in kind, flashing him a happy smile before choosing that moment to resume making out, your lips gently moving against his as his arms wrap around your waist in a bear-like hug holding you safely against him.

Your eyes flutter closed, your body taking over as you relish in Xiaojun’s sweet embrace, feeling all your uneasiness and soreness from the day dissolving away, and xiaojun hums against your lips, apparently feeling the same.

“Hmm, perfect.”

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Taglist: @strayteezjinnie @yukine-smx @crybabybomin @lolibaaae @nizhonimoon @mysticore-replies @08skrr @sunny-nyu @jangstarrr @smileyyuta @sunflower-euphro @stopitvpls @just-howaboutyou @ch3nj1 @amymoonl @junglewoos @ramblingsofawolfgirl @m4rshm4llow @lizkim

Please message me, send an ask, or reply to posts to be added to the taglist!

[anonymous0writer]

You’re Alright II JJ Maybank

Author: @anonymous0writer

Request: Yes!

// I forget the request rn, but it was for a songfic based off the song “All You Wanted” by Michelle Brand. Thank you anon, I hope you like it!

Warnings: Physical fighting. I don’t even think there’s cursing..

A/N: Sorry this was so late! More will come and sooner :)

Taglist: @jayjaymaebank @rudys-pankow @maaybanks @everydayimfangirling @outrbank @thelocalpogue @decap-quadrant @ahhireallydontknow @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @kylosleftbuttcheek @insanitysparkles @divcrdown @youfookendonut @dpaccione @outerbanksbro @jjs-housekeeping​ @teenwaywardasgardian @traumaflavouredjuulpod @sarapage89 @danicarosaline @timmyswrld @gmwlover100 @bxbyyyjocelyn @teamnick @jjmbanks @thesurfingsnail @lulubutton34 @obxsummer @katiaw2 @yeehaw87 @poguecollins @notaninstagrammodel @koufaxx @talksoprettyjjx

Sorry I keep forgetting my tags! Sadly, I couldn’t tag all of my taglist, so if your name isn’t in bold, message me and we can figure it out!

Lyrics look like this

I didn't know that it was so cold And you needed someone to show you the way So I took your hand and we figured out that When the time comes I'd take you away

JJ looks up at you, blue eyes flashing as his jaw clenches. Your fingers tap his cheek, forcing him to keep his head still. You clean up his shallow wounds, your heart squeezing painfully as purple blooms across his face like a flower showing its face. You swallow your feeling about the abuse littered over his skin- he doesn’t need you to get emotional. You stay strong and continue cleaning him up, and finish with a kiss to his hair.

“You’re alright,” You whisper against his hair as his arms encircle your waist and his face buries into your stomach. You hold him close, fingertips brushing his hair lightly. Sobs rack his body as he starts to cry. You grip on him tightens and you whisper comforts into his ear. 

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here- I got you. You’re safe now.” 

Your hands trace soft patterns into his bare back, sure to dance around the dark bruises and fading yellow ones. You glare at the patches of abuse and pain traced onto his skin, but keep your lips firmly pressed together. 

“You’re okay, J.” You murmur, pulling away from him slightly to cup his face to force him to make eye contact. “You’re okay, I’m right here. And guess what? I’m not leaving.” 

He nods as you brush away the tears staining his cheeks. You sit on the bed and pull him toward you. JJ’s face lays on your chest as you play with his hair and his arms lay across your stomach. 

“I love you so much,” He whispers against your shirt and you kiss his dirty blonde hair again as you return the sentiment. 

The boy falls into a dreamless sleep while you worry about his home situation. You wish you could take him away. Away from all of this.

If you want to I can save you I can take you away from here So lonely inside So busy out there And all you wanted was somebody who cares

“JJ, stop!” You screamed, the words ripping from your throat. Wind blew your hair away, drowning out your screams. “JJ, please!”

The boy either didn’t hear you or ignored you. His fists rained down on the Kook’s face, and they tumbled, grunts and fists flying. Sand kicked up as the crowd circling the two brawling boys tightened, a tall, broad shoulder guy stood in front of you. You pushed in front of him, another yell spilling from your throat.

“JJ, please stop!” Desperation lined your voice.

But JJ couldn’t stop, and he wouldn’t stop until one of them dropped. And by the looks of it, it was him. The Kook was straddling him, weight keeping JJ from wiggling out of his iron tight grip. He grunted, pain splashing against his face in waves as the boy on top grew more desperate. JJ had learned that desperation was more the cause of fighting than anger. Or atleast, when the anger faded from your veins, the only thing that kept you going was desperation. And that’s what was happening to the Kook sitting on him. Anger had fizzled out of his blood, leaving him high and dry. The only thing left- desperation and the primal instinct to survive, to live. And while the scuffles and fights he got into were nothing as dire, the instinct was the same. Soon his vision goes hazy, spots burning into his eyes. JJ knew he was on the edge of blacking out, but he didn’t stop. He grunted, shoving his suddenly heavy arms at the boys chest, catching him off guard. JJ took the opportunity to roll out from underneath him, coughing violently into the sand as he crouched on all fours. His lungs rasped for air as he coughed, blood mixing with the spit and landing on the ground.

His cerulean eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you stare at him, in front of the crowd, mouth slightly agape and brows tugged into a disbelieving glare. He couldn’t hold your gaze, because he couldn’t handle your angered words and lectures. The Kook was catching his breath and cradling his possibly broken nose. JJ smirked. Though he almost got the shit beaten out of him, JJ broke his nose. And by now, the boy knew exactly what point to hit and how hard to hit to make the bone snap.

There was no denying the fact that the blonde was hot headed and impulsive. But fighting was a type of escape for him. The solidarity of focusing on the person in front of you, the rush of survival in your veins, the one goal- winning- provided an escape. Something about the task to win seemed to calm everything roaring in his ears. It was when the blood pumping in his ears and everything in his life faded away. But the reality of his loneliness settled in once he was left gasping for breath and pain covering every inch of skin.

You crouched in front of the boy, eyes worried. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

JJ blinked. Your words weren’t the normal ones of your lecture, they were worried. And that’s when JJ realized, really realized. You cared.

All you wanted was somebody who cares If you need me you know I'll be there Oh, oh, oh, yeah

JJ struggled to pull air in and out of his lungs, eyes glassy with tears. He tried to regain his bearings, vision focusing in and out. Until they rested on the phone on the table. His ribs were bursting with pain each time he took a shallow breath, but he fought through the familiar pain to try and bring the phone closer. 

You were on the other side of that phone, ready to help and hold him. You filled his mind with the countless nights you cared for him and lay with him, whispering comforting words in his ear until he fell asleep. 

He knew he could count on you. But as his fingertips grazed the home button, he stopped.

Would you be happy to be woken up at midnight to come and help him? Would you want to see him like this yet again? Would you be willing to help him? When you’d been asked to do this so many times already? Would you still care like you used to? 

His fingertips stalled, but the questions swirling in his pain along with the pain were pushed aside by your voice. 

“If you need me,you know I’ll always be there. No matter what. I will always be there for you.”

So JJ grabbed the phone and pressed your saved number. You picked up on the second ring.

I'm sinking slowly So hurry hold me Your hand is all I have to keep me hanging on Please can you tell me So I can finally see Where you go when you're gone

He was leaving again. His figure fading into the horizon. His feet carried him away and you danced down the steps of the Chateau, heart squeezing painfully. Your feet hit the dirt of the driveway and you reached out, desperate.

“JJ!” You called, voice hovering in the air. “Please, stop!” 

You stalled, knowing you spoke those all too often. You swallowed and continued on, feet not carrying you fast enough to reach him. 

“Please?” You begged.

The boy turned fast on his heel, eyes hard. “Y/N stop. Just stop.” 

You came to a halt, blinking in surprise. You met his eyes and your heart tugged again. 

“Leave me alone.” He spoke and started down John B.’s driveway again. 

This time you were rooted to the ground, feet growing roots and digging into the dirt, keeping you still. Your lips parted, and you called after him again. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, knowing the boy had a stop absolutely no one knew about that held his storming thoughts. You swallowed, worry rising in your chest. You hated when he left, and the fact that he’d flee for a day or more, keeping his spot secret made you ask. But the boy didn’t answer your desperate question and soon he faded away. You frowned deeply, worry dissipating into dejection. 

And just like that, he was gone.

Please can you tell me So I can finally see Where you go when you're gone

You pushed the brush aside, ignoring the dull sting of the blackberry bushes against your shins. You broke through the shrubbery, coming to stand in a small clearing. The ground beneath your scuffed shoes was a mixture of sand and rocks. The sand led to a littering of bigger rocks that could sit you, which broke away to the water. It was a small beach on the edge of a heavily wooded area. And on top of the rock sat a familiar figure. 

JJ was staring at the water, and when you softly called for him, his head turned and you met his glassy eyes. A fresh bruise and cuts littered his face and a tear made its way down his cheek. The scene broke your heart.

“Oh, J.” You whispered and rushed forward, reaching for him. You wrapped your arms tightly around him as he buried his head into your stomach. You rubbed his back as he sobbed, hands gripping your shirt. 

“You’re okay, J. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You’re gonna be alright.”

[toloveawarlord]

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

25 Days of Christmas Day 9

Pairing: Edgar x MC

Prompt: “How long have you been out here?”

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @christmaswarlock​ @sakura-1819​ @starry-starry-night24​ @kissmetwicekissmedeadly​ @thewitchofbooks​ @ikemensengokufangirl​ @stardust-dreamer13​ @gay-noodle-clan​ @nad-zeta​ @canaria-blackwell​ @hamster-damn​ @boundtothejacks​

A/N: Not my original plan for this story but I fell in love this idea!

  Snow danced in the chilled wind, drifting down to join the blanket covering the yard. The warm shop disappeared, and she found herself shivering before a large home, strangely familiar. Alice rubbed her hands together, casting a quizzical glance around her surroundings. The mountains cascading across the horizon told her this was Red Territory, not Central Quarter where she’d previously been.

“Hey, miss! That magic you used lit up the whole yard!” A boy no older than six bounded up to her, his boots and jacket coated in a fresh layer of snow. The cold nipping at his red tinted cheeks and nose. Despite how frigid he looked; a wide grin broke out on his features.

Alice studied his familiar features. Chestnut brown locks. Jade irises reflecting mischievous intent. The moonlight shimmering on the white snow only illuminated the boy in a magical glow. “Did I scare you?”

“Of course not! I don’t scare easy!” The grin fell into a defiant pout as he folded his arms across his chest with a huff.

“Edgar! There you are! How long have you been out here? You’ll catch a cold!” A woman clad in a winter shawl over her pajamas and house slippers called from the door. Her gaze fell on the unknown woman. “Oh, hello there.”

“Hello- I-”

Edgar slipped his small hand into hers, tugging her toward the warm home. “This lady is lost, mother,” He announced, intent on bringing her inside with him. “As the future Jack of Hearts, I hereby decree that--” His head swiveled up to look at her, realization on those small features. “Sorry, I don’t know you’re name, miss.”

“Oh, it’s Alice.”

His head nodded as he cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I hereby decree that Alice will be given sanctuary in our home until morning.” He spoke with authority but peeked at his mother for permission. “We can’t leave her in the cold and no carriages are running at this hour.”

His mother laughed softly with a gentle smile. “Yes, I think that’s a wonderfully kind idea.” She brushed her hand lovingly through his hair and turned her attention to the woman. “You are more than welcome to stay here. I’m sure you’re terribly cold having wandered this far out into the country of Red Territory. I’m Lillian Bright, and this is my troublesome son, Edgar.”

The boy in question gave a breathy hey but didn’t deny it.

“Thank you, I’m terribly sorry of the inconvenience.” Alice might have chosen to brave the cold, but knowing that she wasn’t in her own timeline, she decided against it.

Besides, she was quite intrigued by this little Edgar. He was just as she imagined he’d be at this age; full of adventure, innocent, and simply so adorable she wanted to pinch his cheeks and tell him how cute he was.

But she refrained, as hard as it was.

“You should be in bed. It’s well past your bedtime,” Lillian said.

“It’s Christmas Eve, and Father promised he’d be home.” His head dropped; disappointment laced in his tone. He’d gone outside to wait, hoping to catch him riding in the distance on his horse. But hours had passed.

Lillian tugged his jacket off before relenting. “Alright. Go warm up by the fire. I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

“I’ll help you. It’s the least I can do for your hospitality,” Alice offered.

Edgar tugged on her sleeve until she bent down to hear what he whispered into her ear. “Sneak extra marshmallows into mine!” He snickered softly, like he’d told her about an evil plot. With his request done, the energetic boy took off toward the roaring fire in the living room.

Alice accompanied his mother to the large kitchen. The arch above the sink gave a perfect view into the other room. She watched the six-year-old stick his hands out toward the flames only to wrench them back a few moments later and blow on them.

“Do you have kids, Alice?” Lillian asked, setting a pot of milk onto the stove top.

“Oh, no. Not yet anyways. I’m not sure E-” She stopped herself short of mentioning his name. “I’d like to, one day. I’m quite sure my boyfriend would be a wonderful father.” Her heart thumped in her chest as she thought about the two of them having a little one. Perhaps they’d have a boy who looked just like Edgar when he was young.

Lillian laughed, setting to work cutting up a bar of chocolate to melt into the warmed milk. “You must have a devoted lover, then.” A flicker of recognition flashed across her features. ��His father, Cecil, he’s a good man. Busy, with his duties as the Jack of Hearts, but he loves that boy fiercely.”

“I can see that he’s loved so well.” An ache splintered across her chest. One day, he’ll lose those who cared so deeply for him.

Steam rose from the mugs as they were filled with the beverage. As requested, Alice slipped three extra marshmallows into the smaller mug. Edgar settled on the couch in between his mother and Alice, a wicked grin on his lips as he beamed at Alice.

She gave a wink and sipped on her drink. “Are you excited for Christmas, Edgar?”

“Yes! I hope I get a lot of candy and sweets. My favorite is-”

“Jellybeans?”

Jade eyes widened as if she’d read his mind as his head bobbed a confirmation. “How’d you know? Did you use magic?” He passed his mug to his mother before wiggling across the cushion to get closer to Alice. “I saw you use magic when you arrived.”

How would she explain that? It wasn’t like she could tell him that she was from the future, that she knew because he’d told her. Instead, Alice placed a finger over her lips and said, “It’s a secret.”

“Aww,” Edgar whined, flopping down onto his stomach, resting his head on his stacked arms. “That’s cheating. I can order you as the Jack!” He threw the title around as it fit him.

Just as mischievous as he was in the future. “You’re about twenty years too early for that.” Alice reached out her free hand and pinched at his side, causing the boy to flail around in a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

“He-hey! Stop t-that! It tickles!” He fought to no avail, only getting a reprieve when she pulled her hand away. He panted, taking deep breaths. “You’re a lot of fun. More fun than any of the maids here.” He sat up, tucking his legs in to sit criss-cross.

“I’ll bet you like to tease them, huh?”

Edgar turned his nose up, utterly denying his devious nature. A little prank here and there didn’t harm anyone. He shushed her as she snickered at him. “Mother fell asleep. She’s been getting tired a lot lately,” he said.

He tugged the blanket off the back of the couch and gently covered her with it, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I hope father makes it home. She’d really be happy, then.”

“He has a lot of work, being the Jack of Hearts, but I’m sure he’s doing everything he can to be here for the two of you.” She knew just how much was demanded of the Jack, especially since it wasn’t until Lancelot became King that the Bright line was free of their dark obligation.

“I wished on every star in the sky.”

The jingling of keys went unheard by the boy, but Alice turned her head toward the front hall. As she rubbed circles on his back, magic pulled at her body. The spell wearing off, telling her it was time to leave. “Hey, Edgar. You’ll get your wish. I promise. Wait right here, okay?”

“You think so?” The light returned to those jade irises. Hope laced in his features. His greatest wish for the year evident.

She rose from the couch, taking all three mugs to return them to the kitchen. The front door creaked open, making young Edgar jump up. His smile one that she would never forget. Alice clasped her hands together, finding the brightest star in the sky from the window.

I wish for his happiness. Both past and future.

“Father! You came! Just like she said you would!”

“She? Who are you talking about?”

As the magic took her back to her own time, she barely heard his reply.

The Christmas angel, Alice.

The lights of the shop returned to her vision. The crystal now a rock in her hands. Alice squeezed it tightly, a memento of her glimpse into his past. Two strong arms slid around her waist.

“There you are. I searched the whole shop, but you were gone for a while. Did you sneak out on me?” Edgar teased, resting his chin on her shoulder. They’d gone shopping together, but somehow, she’d managed to slip away. How strange.

“Yes, something like that.”

“Oh?”

Alice laughed to herself. He may deny it, but that childish innocence had begun to return to him. She pocketed the rock and twisted in his arms to face him. “I went to wish on a few stars.”

He searched her for the truth, a sly smirk on his lips. “And what, pray tell, did you wish for?” Gloved fingers caressed her cheek as he waited patiently for the answer.

“Your happiness, for the rest of our lives.” She adored the surprise on his features. His cheeks the faintest of pink as he struggled to respond. Alice rose up on her tiptoes and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

She vowed to protect his happiness always.

[funandfangirlingcollide]

I’m Still Here

Pairing: Will Graham x Reader

Summary: While in the throes of passion, things get a little darker than you or Will expected. The repercussions are dangerous. 

Warnings: SMUT, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), choking but in a dangerous way, reader blacking out, talk of murder, the dark cloud that is Will Graham’s mind, ANGST BABEY! 

A/N: There really is just a lack of Will Graham smut, you know? I promise I will write more that's less ... how do I put this ... Bad. This was just the first idea that came to mind. 😅

The light scruff of Will’s beard rubbed your thighs warmly as his tongue delved in and out of you. Hands laced into his hair, you threw your head back on the pillow. His hands were wrapped up around your thighs as he worked you over relentlessly. Giving in to the feelings which coursed through your system, you began rolling your hips against his mouth. Seeing you take control of your pleasure made him let out a deep groan which vibrated through your body. 

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, filling you up more completely as he moved to suck your clit between his lips. As he gave attention to your swollen bud he curled his fingers upwards to brush against your g-spot. Hitting that perfect spot combined with the relentless movements of his mouth, it didn’t take you much longer before you were cumming against him. Unrelenting, he worked you through your orgasm until you were nothing but a trembling mess. 

Once the shaking subsided he moved his way up your body, lips leaving a wet trail of open mouthed kisses in their path. As soon as his face was hovering right over yours he brought your mouths together feverishly, tongue brushing against your own. When Will pulled away you could see that his pupils were nearly black, blown wide with lust. There was something there that bordered on dangerous and though you wished you could say it scared you, all it did was make you ache for him that much more. 

After pulling your legs up around his waist he let his hands trail slowly over your thighs, the warmth of his palms igniting a fire all the way up your body. Will leaned back over so that your faces were only inches away now. As he did so he nestled his hips right between yours so that the head of his cock was resting heavily against the front of your folds. As he catches your lips to his own again he presses forward slowly, feeling his cock become engulfed in your tight heat. 

His eyes snapped shut as he stilled inside you, aching with the way you clenched around him. Will rested his forehead against yours as you both became accustomed to the feelings that raged from his body into yours. When he was able to steady his breathing he began thrusting his hips almost painfully slow. The sensation of the friction caused by his length inside you was enough to send you reeling.

Will's thrusts gradually became faster as he began to move with the rhythm of his pleasure. As you rocked your hips to meet his, you let your body encourage him to use you for his own release. Will Graham was not a man to put his needs before those of others but tonight you would make him see how much he needed that control. 

Moving your bodies in unison, he began to feel a familiar coil building in his stomach. As you felt him tense you rocked against him harder to help him chase his orgasm. Lost in the passion of the moment Will brought a hand to your throat, squeezing lightly as he continued to fuck you. It was a welcome gesture as you saw how much he enjoyed having you there, writhing in his grip. The moan that escaped your lips brought a growl from his own as his grip began to tighten.

However, It didn’t take long for his hold on you to become dangerous. By the time you realized how difficult it was getting for you to breathe he was completely lost in himself. Unable to speak, you grabbed at him frantically. The fear that set in made it that much more difficult to pry his hand away as you began to thrash wildly. Black spots dotted the edges of your vision as he continued cutting off your airway. The involuntary way your body squirmed as you fought just made him harder as he pumped into you deeply. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was the pure ecstasy that flooded his features as he shot thick ropes of his cum inside your cunt.  

When you came to the bed was empty, blanket thrown haphazardly on the floor. A dull ache pulsed in your head as you tried to sit up. When you were finally able to drag your body upright the room seemed distorted, as if you were looking at it through a glass filled with water. Trying to steady yourself, you closed your eyes and put a hand to your forehead. As you sat there you noticed another pain, in your neck. Bringing a hand up you delicately prodded at the sore flesh of your throat which burned at the touch. After a moment you opened your eyes again and the room had gone back to normal. 

Finally in a clearer headspace, you looked at the clock. Only a few minutes had passed since you had blacked out which seemed nearly impossible. As you stared at the flashing digits a soft sound stole your attention. Looking to the sound, your eyes settled on Will. He was sitting in the corner with his hands over his face, chest heaving.

It took you a moment but you finally felt strong enough to stand. As you moved towards the edge of the bed, you felt a warm seeping feeling between your legs. Suddenly realizing what it was, you grabbed a tissue from your nightstand and brought it down to poorly clean yourself up. Deciding you’d done a decent enough job, you made your way over to kneel in front of Will. When he felt your hand on his knee he perked up so that you were both looking at each other now. His eyes were glassy and red from the tears he had been struggling to stifle. Will Graham had been through a lot of traumatizing things in his life and the idea that this was what had broken him made your heart tremble

You wished that you could take all of the pain away, wished you could kiss every wound that scarred his heart. However, you both knew it wasn’t that simple. Reality was much more challenging and, as had been demonstrated, much darker as well. Without saying anything, you reached over to pull Will’s head against your chest. As you did so he flung his arms around your body, clinging to you tightly. Fingers lacing into his hair, you held him there silently. It didn’t take long before you could feel his tears begin to roll down your skin. 

It felt like an eternity that the two of you sat there, molding your bodies into one as you each soaked up the other’s sadness. However, what Will Graham didn’t realize is that you would have stayed there ten thousand eternities to help him feel whole again. He gradually began to compose himself as he wiped away the rest of his tears and sat upright beside you, clearing his throat to speak.

“I’m sorry isn’t good enough. I wish there was an apology that surpassed sorry, one that would make everything right again.”

“Everything is alright--” 

“No. No. It isn’t,” His voice was firm as he corrected you. “Don’t lie. Pretend. Deny. Whatever it is that you’re doing. What I did is so far from alright. There is no word for what I did.”

“Will, I’m okay. You know that, right? I am alive--” 

“Yeah but what if you weren’t? I could have killed you.” 

“You wouldn’t have killed me.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” This last response killed the words in the back of your throat, bringing you to a stunned silence. After a beat you knew you needed clarity on what he had said.

“Did you want to kill me?” You couldn’t help taking a shaky breath.

“When I had my hand wrapped around your throat, your pulse was jumping underneath my touch. I could feel it get quicker as you became more afraid. In that moment, it wasn’t about killing you. It was about the power I held over you. Of course, I didn’t mean for it to go that far. I lost control. I didn’t want to kill you … but I could have.”

“Anyone could have killed me, Will. Hell, I could have killed you. It’s not about that,” You stopped a moment as you contemplated the question you wanted to ask him. “Did it feel good?” 

“That’s the part that really scared me … it felt incredible. Until it didn’t. At first, though, it was so thrilling. There was something so primal about it. Having you completely under my control. For a second, just a second, I did think about killing you. I thought about the fact that I could have ended your life right then and there. It was brief but the fact that it existed frightens me. It wasn’t a conscience thought, either. Somewhere deep inside my mind I was thinking about strangling you and I didn’t even have a say in it.” 

“Will, I’ve always trusted. That has never been in question for me. Sometimes, though, it’s your mind I can’t trust.” 

“I am my mind, Y/N.” At this you cupped his cheek and pulled him towards you so that he was looking you right in the eyes. 

“You are not your mind. You are going to make it through this because of all the things you’re not. You’re not a murderer. You’re not a psychopath. You’re not a bad person. You’re not beyond repair. And most importantly, you’re not alone. You have me and I am not leaving your side. You may think you are broken past the point of fixing, but I’m still here. And I can promise I am not going anywhere. We are going to be okay, do you understand?” Will clenched his jaw as he bit back the tears that threatened to renew themselves.

Without another word, you opened your arms and Will gladly fell into them. The two of you realized quickly that the vulnerable moment you’d shared had made you both exhausted. Helping each other up, you stumbled to bed where you both happily collapsed. As soon as you hit the mattress you both gravitated towards one another, skin pressed warmly together as you both curled up comfortably. It wasn’t long before the both of you were asleep. Both of you knew that the night wouldn’t be without interruption due to the violent nature of most of Will’s dreams. However, that didn’t matter in the moment. All you knew was the feeling of him connected to you as you drifted off, blissfully pushing aside everything but sleep and Will. 

Tags: @lannister-slings-and-arrows @pedrosdoll @zeldasayer @artoftalent07 @headcanonhasfired @races-erster @yandereaffections @lilbabychilton @talesfromtheguild @gryffindorwriter @astromechovess @gamingaquarius @existingcharactersdiehorribly

[concussed-to-pieces]

To Tell You The Truth Part Five

Fandom: Prospect [2018]

Pairing: Eventual Ezra/Prospector!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Dudes, real talk. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Your support on this particular endeavor is just mindblowing and I love you guys so much (no this isn’t the end or anything I’m just in my feels right now). This installment has a monologue in it that I'm really, really stupid proud of. I hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst @lackofhonor @the-feckless-wonder @arrowswithwifi @fioccodineveautunnale

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains vague depictions of gore. Stay safe!]

You thought you heard someone running, heavy boots pounding hard on the ground. Who even has the energy for that, you wondered idly.

Oxygen abruptly flooded back into your helmet and you inhaled on instinct, hacking and wheezing. The bayonet twitched roughly, making you sob out before some of the pressure on the blade was relieved. 

"There. Detached it from the fucking thrower. You still with me, gentle soul?" Ezra, it was Ezra, talking loudly, tapping your helmet and seeming relieved when you barely opened your eyes once more. "I'm goin' to stabilize the bayonet, you understand me? We can't remove it or we'll do more damage. Have to stabilize with the patcher cream."

"Told y...you to...leave--" you gasped, grabbing desperately at his shoulder. "Miss the--sling...back…"

"Kevva was a martyr, you know." Ezra said suddenly. "A little bit Prometheus, a little bit Jesus. Shot himself into space so others wouldn't fear to follow in his footsteps, to give countless souls the chance to be reforged in booster fire. Always found martyrdom more trouble than it was worth, myself. Living on struck me as the more attractive option." He murmured, struggling with your suit.

The only reply you could manage was more of a wet gurgle of confusion. What was he even talking about?

"Now, we as human beings are taught that self-sacrifice is the loftiest of moral pedestals to stand upon. We are taught that puttin' the needs of others above ourselves is the pinnacle, the quintessential desirous trait." He carried on in a pleasant tone, like this was a normal conversation the two of you were having as he poured the antiseptic liquid over your abdomen. 

It burned and stung. You wanted to scream but you couldn't draw the breath, settling for a pitiful whimper.

"I cannot tell you how many times I roundly railed against the purported divine will of that miserable martyr when I found myself trapped on this forsaken moon. The last thing I wanted was to be slain before I finally got to revel in my spoils, reduced to no more than a cautionary tale of avarice and loss in the annals of time. Lo and behold though, despite all my tribulations, it appears I was not the one in danger of being a sacrificial lamb."

The clear dome of his helmet thudded against your own, and he tried to time your breathing for a moment before he gave up and just clicked the trigger on the patcher gun. You cried out hoarsely in pain and he echoed you with a groan, shaking his head.

"Instead, that malevolent bearded bastard sent me a precious gentle soul, one more gracious and generous than any harvest, to shield my worthless body from the slings and arrows of this hostile moon. But I do not accept the debt of another's life so free and easy, especially not when it's counted against all my sins." He continued relentlessly, tossing the foam gun aside. "You can urge me until your holy heart stops, yet I refuse to indulge you in your blasted martyrdom." The word was furious, hissed out between his teeth. "You will live. If I have to drag you back from Kevva's greedy, graspin' hand myself, I damn well will. You have suffered Purgatory long enough, gentle soul." 

With that emphatic declaration he heaved you upright, draping your arm over his shoulder and beginning the slow, tortuous walk back to the mercenary rock jumper. "Ez--ra…" you choked, your legs barely supporting you. "C-an't--"

"Hush, gentle soul." He said firmly, struggling to distribute more of your weight onto his shoulders. "I would carry you if I trusted my arm, but regrettably I am not at full-test. All the same, I'm putting you into that fuckin' pod even if I have to drag you every accursed step of the way." 

Your fingers dug into his suit and you straightened up marginally. Just enough for him to get a better grip on your body. "M' gonna'-" you coughed, red droplets hitting the dome of your helmet.

"Keep your free hand on that blade, gentle soul. The less damage we do to your internal machinations, the better." 

You obediently curled your glove around the foam-crusted bayonet, stabilizing the protruding weapon with what little strength you had left. You stared down at his leg, trying to get your own steps to match up with his so he didn't trip over the tether tube. You weren't sure whether either of you would be able to get back up if that occurred.

"Almost there." Ezra announced, making your head jerk up. You had been wavering on the edge of unconsciousness, just focusing on keeping your feet moving. 

He dropped your hand onto one of the railings for the pod ladder and you obligingly tried to pull yourself into it after he gave you a boost, ending up essentially throwing your body forward and to the side on the floor of the pod.

Ezra staggered up behind you, fumbling to shift you from your fetal position. "In the seat, gentle soul, we need to strap you in. Can't have loose cargo when we take off." He muttered. 

Your head felt too heavy. You let it loll against your chest while he essentially manhandled you into the passenger seat and snapped the harness around you as best as he could. "M'sorry…" Your voice was barely audible through your helmet. "Can't..."

"You manage those lungs of yours, don't worry about me." He replied tersely, yanking off his helmet and then tearing at the latches on your own. "You just keep breathin'. We'll be out of this in no time, gentle soul, no time at all." 

You nodded dazedly after he pulled the helmet off over your head. "Thank…"

"Hush, damn it." Ezra rasped, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Hush. Save your energy and keep that bayonet steady. We'll be on that freighter in a tick. Get you to a proper med bay." His voice trembled.

You were vaguely aware that he had strapped in beside you. There was the soft rustle of manual pages, then the deafening rattle of the pod boosters, the thrum of the engines as it broke the atmosphere. Light from Bakhroma's sun poured in through the triangular windows overhead, all but blinding you. 

Ezra weakly stripped your glove and then clasped your fingers across the center console as the freighter appeared, spindly arms of pods hanging suspended in the brilliant green and navy halo of the surrounding cosmos. "We have at last been delivered from our toilsome strife." He sighed. "Better days beckon us onward, gentle soul." He raised your hand to his lips, and you felt the brush of his facial hair when he kissed your open palm.

...

You were unsure of how much time had passed. You thought you were being removed from the pod, something about getting rushed through the triage protocols. 

An oxygen mask was snapped down over your face, the whirr of an intraosseous needle reaching your ears. Conversations around you faded in and out, random voices discussing your condition. 

Where was Ezra?

"If that bayonet had gone half an inch deeper-"

"I suggest you apply the brakes on that particular intellectual locomotive." You felt your fears ebb at the familiar sound of his drawl. "We are running on precious little sleep and I must confess to an unhealthy inclination towards impatience when I am deprived of my slumber. Now, my individual trauma can wait until you have available staff, but their wound will fester if it is left much longer." A large hand rested on your forehead, shielding your half-open eyes from the fluorescent lighting. "Take care of their potential pneumothorax, doctor, and I will be as docile as a lamb."

"Ez…" you whispered.

"Still tryin' to palaver? Gentle soul, now is not the time for idle conversation." His hand stroked your forehead as he soothed, "Rest now. We did it. You did it." 

With his assurance, you closed your eyes.

...

You were confined to a rehabiter chamber for what felt like a short eternity as the freighter made its laborious way back to Central, Puggart Bench and the overcrowded wards that dotted the outskirts.

All you had left physically to remind you of your ordeal was a slow-healing wound on your abdomen and muscles that felt like they would never stop aching. You had one hundred percent overdone it and, if the resident freighter physician had anything to say regarding the matter, you were incredibly lucky to be alive.

The freighter's lung scrubber wasn't exactly on par with the level of sanitation either you or Ezra needed, so you were kept on it at all times until you could be transferred to the Puggart Bench medicog. You were grateful to be weathering the travel in the freighter's dingy med bay, as strange as that was to say. You weren't sure how long it would be before you could travel in a pod without feeling deeply apprehensive.

Once dropped at Puggart, you barely even got to wave at Ezra (he waved back with a drowsy grin from beneath the oxygen tent) before you were whisked away to a different room and hooked up to something a little more high-test. 

Fully purging the dust took literal days of treatment. The preliminary scans of your lungs revealed what looked like thick, puffy cotton balls in the place of usual bronchioles. You could only imagine how bad Ezra's lungs must be if that was what yours were like.

The rest of your body continued to arduously heal. You spent the hours of solitary treatment quietly drawing on your memo pad. Once that ran out of pages, you began to save the napkins that came with your Pastors slurry. A kind orderly found you an abandoned clipboard and you would balance it on your knees to draw for as long as you were able before your stomach began to protest.

You did your best to not think about the Bakhroma Green moon. It was difficult, but you tried. The lushly poisonous foliage, the Queen's Lair, Damon-

Your sleep was fitfully restless, either due to the lingering pain of your wound or the nightmares that hounded you. You were unsure of the last time you had truly enjoyed a good night's sleep.

Once you had been off the scrubber for a full week, Ezra came to visit. You almost didn't recognize him sans the bulk of his suit and helmet, but the brilliant blond Mallen streak that jutted mischievously out from his right temple removed all doubt. He looked much better, which was to be expected. Clean food and fresh air had done him wonders.

"Gentle soul!" He exclaimed warmly upon entering your cubicle, his voice rasping slightly, "all those days of good behavior paid off. Your jealous warden has finally deemed me worthy of entry into your domain." 

"Good to see you too, Ezra." You replied with a smile, raising an eyebrow at the flowers he carried. "I won't take up much of your time, obviously you've got places to be." What was that weird pang in your chest? Were you jealous? Why would you be jealous? 

"Your modesty, while one of your finest qualities, wounds me deeply. These are for you, gentle soul." Ezra placed a hand over his heart, bowing grandly as he presented you with the bouquet. 

"F-For me? Oh." You felt a little ashamed of your strange jealousy now, fumbling to take the flowers from him. "These are so beautiful, you...you didn't have to, you know." You murmured, burying your nose in the soft petals. 

"What better way to celebrate you bein' on the mend?" He inquired incredulously, pulling up the chair beside your bed. 

"I'm kind of surprised you're still here, honestly." You confessed. 

"Whyever for?"

"Well I just...I assumed you would have set back out in search of the next big thing." You twiddled your fingers, keeping your eyes on the flowers. 

"I am full of surprises, I suppose. Oh! And in that vein." Ezra tugged free a long, flat box from inside the (obviously very new) blazer he wore. "Another surprise."

The box was wrapped simply in plain paper and twine, a bit like all your sketchpads had been. "Ezra-" you began to protest. 

He waved off your words though, gesturing impatiently for you to rip off the paper. "I have been burstin' at the seams to give this to you, gentle soul. Do not make me wait one iota longer, I implore you."

Laughing a little at his enthusiasm, you obliged. Your laughter caught in your throat as you turned the brightly-colored box over, the graphics on the front proudly announcing the contents. "This...Th-This is…" You stammered, swallowing hard. "I...Ezra-"

"It's the draw-pad! Y'know, the one we discussed. Brand new, hot off the line." Ezra looked insanely pleased with himself, fidgeting in the seat. "I saw it and I knew you needed it."

"Ezra, this is too much." You tried to sound like you disapproved, but you were relatively certain your fingers reverently tracing the brilliant logo gave you away. Just the box alone looked so crisp, the edges still sharp instead of crushed in and rounded with age.

"Now, this gift does come with a request." He drawled from his spot beside your bed. You glanced up, that old wariness creeping back in. "I want you to familiarize yourself with this tool. Not sure how long it'll take. I have faith in your tenacity and ability to adapt, however. Once you're confident in your skill, I would be most obliged if you would consider a solicitation of partnership. " 

"Part...nership?" You repeated, thoroughly confused.

Ezra nodded. "Yes, gentle soul. I am penning a semi-fictitious memoir and it would add a certain...gravitas if your sketches graced the pages as well, you understand."

You fairly erupted with excitement, "I would love to!" Your enthusiasm jerked to a sudden stop as you remembered just where you were, and how much debt you were probably in. "But I...I can't." You finished sadly, stroking the brightly-colored illustrations on the front of the draw-pad box one last wistful time before you pressed it back into his hands. "I'm sorry Ezra, I need to hurry up and heal so I can hurry up and find another job, work through paying off this treatment bill--"

"Gentle soul, I don't think you have a full grasp of your situation." Ezra interjected. "You are an incredibly rich individual." You stared at him, not entirely registering his words. "Have you truly forgotten just how much of the Queen your deft little hands plundered?"

"That's not mine, that's y-"

"Kevva above, gentle soul. If not for your steady skinnin' and de-blisterin', we wouldn't have secured a damn thing." Ezra leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers. "I turned a handsome profit as well, mind you. I am quite comfortably off with my harvest as it is. But you, gentle soul, you…" He cleared his throat. "I took the liberty of arrangin' an account for you while you were indisposed."

"There was enough for an account?" You squeaked. 

Ezra's laugh sounded raw. "The wonder in your eyes! I wish you could see yourself. Give me a moment, I'll pull up the numbers." He had apparently gotten one of those new, touchscreen Servs. He didn't even need a cable! You watched apprehensively as he tapped away at the tablet, swiping through a few menus. 

When he tilted the screen to show you your account, you were relatively certain you had gone into shock. You knew your mouth was opening and closing, but you couldn't seem to form any words.

"I daresay you may be able to afford your hospital bill." The man said dryly after watching you gawk for several long minutes. "And perhaps a few meager indulgences on top of that."

"That's...that can't be right." You whispered, reaching out to touch the numbers. Ezra chuckled when your clumsy fingers accidentally brought up another menu, the older man easily dismissing it. 

"It is indeed correct, gentle soul. The exchange was the cleanest I've ever done, and sported the highest rates I've ever encountered. It seems we returned from the Bakhroma Green in the nick of time, in more ways than one." 

"Ezra, that's...I-I've never even dreamed of having so many points. I…" you trailed off, biting your lip. Tears welled up in your eyes and, for the first time since Damon had been killed, you started to cry in earnest.

Ezra's hand rested on your arm after a moment and you let yourself be eased into his embrace, sobbing against his shoulder. "Steady now, gentle soul. You just let it all out. It's over, you understand?" He soothed, cupping the back of your head. "Over and done with. Your perdition is at its end. You are free from those terrible burdens." 

"I just...this doesn't even feel real." You hiccupped. "I feel like I'm g-gonna' wake up in that pod all over ag-gain."

"I know that sensation all too well. My sleep is poor, my dreams fraught with dark recollections." Ezra admitted quietly. "Safety and stability are luxuries I have not been able to afford for many years. Now that I have them, I am...unsure of what to do with them." He sighed, his chin resting on the top of your head. "We have endured so much worse than having a little good fortune, yet upon bein' confronted with it, we do not feel worthy."

You nodded into his shoulder. It was no surprise that he would know exactly how to put into words what you had been feeling. You jolted abruptly when you realized which shoulder you were molesting. "Oh! Your arm, I'm so-"

"Don't you fret, gentle soul." He released you and carefully slid his arm out of his blazer, the barest wince betraying him as he flexed the limb freely. "I'm on the mend, with a...zeal I did not realize I possessed. The matron in charge of my circulatory rehabilitation seems hell-bent on gettin' me to break a sweat." Ezra sounded rueful. "I'm just glad I can breathe unaided once more. I'll never take my lungs for granted ever again."

...

You doused the eggs with the brilliant orange sauce, shoveling a forkful into your mouth and groaning in appreciative delight. 

"Now normally, condiments are a compliment to the dish." Ezra delicately gestured at your orange-stained plate with his fork. "With you however, condiments appear to be the main course." He teased. Ezra had offered to take you out for breakfast on the morning of your release, he called it a daring escape from the confines of modern medicine. Hence your current locale. You had, however, insisted that the two of you split the bill.

"After so long eating Pastors Calori-pouches and bits bars, I...I need the color just as much as I need the flavor, y'know?" You mumbled around your mouthful. "My tastebuds are all brand new again."

"I meant no disrespect, gentle soul." Ezra reached across the table with a paper napkin and you jerked back on reflex, laughing awkwardly as you tried to play off your sharp reaction. He cocked his head, eyebrows drawn quizzically tight. "I said I would not ask, and I will not break that promise." He murmured, tucking the napkin into your limp hand instead. "If ever there is anything I can do though, anything I can say to...to ease these burdens you carry on your body, all you need do is ask."

This was far too serious of a topic to be discussing in a greasy diner with bright orange hot sauce dripping off your chin. 

Ezra skewered a bite of flapjack with his fork, dipped it in the vibrant condiment that smeared your dish and then popped it into his mouth. You gawked at him as he chewed, his eyes idly roaming the diner. You could take the man out of the communal mining canteen, but you couldn't take the communal mining canteen out of the man, you supposed. You remembered all too well the stands worth of others pilfering off your own tray.

"I know you are no doubt eager twice over to get your mitts on my draft and begin your creative process, but I must insist we allow you the time to reacclimate to city livin'." He changed the subject deftly, his fingers drumming on the scarred diner table as he spoke. "Elsewise you may just end up sealin' yourself into a studio like a cask of Amontillado and drawin' the day away." His eyes wandered back to your face. "Have you given any more consideration to which ward you might prefer to hang your hat in?" 

You gulped down a bite of toast before shaking your head. "I...I looked through the listings two days ago but I don't...I mean, I know I can afford to, but…" you trailed off. 

"Livin' alone holds no allure." Ezra's tone was sympathetic. He steepled his hands on the tabletop. "Permit me to suggest an alternative, gentle soul." You inclined your head. "We are two wandering drifters that, through sheer grit and a healthy sprinkling of providence, have managed to slog through hell together and survive without growing to loathe each other's company." 

You stared at him blankly, sponging the sauce off your chin. Ezra settled back in the booth, his body language enviably relaxed. 

"I am more than willin' to open my humble abode to you. For a few stands or simply until you find yourself despising my lugubrious company." He held up a hand as you opened your mouth. "I offer without any malice or intent of predation, gentle soul. I know that the return to non-floater spaces is not often an easy one, and I strongly suspect that you have been preyed upon in the past."

"I know you're not like that." You blurted out, flushing immediately afterwards.

Ezra raised an eyebrow. "I am grateful you don't lump my gregarious self in with the refuse, gentle soul."

"I just...I mean you've done so much for me already." You continued helplessly. "I'm in your debt, Ezra. By a lot."

"Nonsense." He scoffed. "Without you, we never would have escaped the Green! If we are to speak of debts and debtors, I must reason that I am still in yours. Shooting me would have been a ludicrously simple task, as I pointed out when we were still in that Kevva-forsaken place. Never mind the steady-handed salvage of my arm, your heroic duel with Inumon-"

"Oh yes, nothing more heroic than getting three-quarters killed by a grungy Krebine bayonet." You interrupted him dryly. "While hopped up on Brism."

Ezra chuckled. "Modest as ever!" He quickly sobered, his eyes serious. "My lodgings are more than adequate to house another individual, should you decide to grace me with your presence."

...

You didn't really have any possessions, which made your move relatively straightforward. All you had was your helmet, your suit, your underclothes and the contents of the pockets of said suit. Mercifully, everything had been decontaminated, so you didn't have anything to fear from throwing your familiar kit back on.

"I will offer you a change of clothes, but! We must venture out and acquire you new attire at your earliest convenience." Ezra insisted, already rummaging through his laughably barren closet even as you protested. "I doubt you wish to eternally linger in my dubious, threadbare garb." He suddenly stopped, snapping his fingers. "Wait. No. Kevva, we can order on the Serv. Unless you prefer the torment of physical fitting rooms?" He queried with a grimace, making you laugh.

You found yourself curled up on the couch several hours later, clad in one out of his two 'casual' shirts and your thermal leggings. You held the Serv tablet carefully in your hands as Ezra swiped through page after page of various clothing, the precocious man enthusiastically supporting any item you expressed interest in. 

"This will at least tide you over until you feel more comfortable wanderin' the streets of the Pug again. We should also find you some underthings and socks." He mused, tapping the appropriate area on the screen to bring up the search option. "I'll leave you to that, gentle soul." You hesitantly took over from him and he rose from the couch, stretching with a quiet groan. "Tea? I feel inordinately cozy right now." He offered cordially. 

"Mmhm." You nodded, a little distracted by the waves of choices available to you. Granted, at this stage all you needed were a few essentials. Undergarments that would hold up in the wash, good socks to ward off the chill. "Should I get shoes too, or wait until I go out for that?" You called.

"I feel it would be prudent to dally on that particular front." Ezra drawled from the kitchen. "It's best to ensure a proper fit in person if at all possible. Though, I hardly need to tell you that." He stuck his head back out through the doorway after a moment. "Toiletries tab should be the second to last on the right."

"I mean, I took the toothbrush from the hospital so I'm probably fine for-" His raucous laughter interrupted your reasoning and you scowled at him, uncertain of what could be so funny. 

"You've got more funds than most people would see in six lifetimes, and yet you purloined the toothbrush from your hospital room." Ezra managed to say after a few moments. "Floater habits die hard, eh gentle soul?"

Against your will, you felt giggles bubbling in your chest and you huffed out a breath, trying to ward them off. "Shush, you...you!" You retorted lamely, losing your battle with your own laughter. "Stop judging me, your moral high ground is subterranean."

"Subterranean, I like that!" Ezra exclaimed, his eyes shining with good humor as he passed you a plain white mug full to the brim with tea. "I'll have to pilfer that for my illustrious tale. Give you full credit, naturally."

You smiled at him over your mug. "You'd better."

He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "I am a man of subterranean high ground, true enough. But I am a man of my word!"

Part Six

[themysteriousphoenix]

Do director's cut for the nighttime journey one!

Sorry, it took me several days to get to this! It was fun to revisit this one!

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

Moonlight shone down on the empty dirt road. It was late. It was quiet. A single man in a battered, mustard-yellow waistcoat appeared with a barely audible pop, landing in the grass near the tree line. His eyes were sharp as he looked around, watching for company. Newt Scamander, after years of watching for danger and tracking beasts, was quite adept at spotting what most others would not.

Creeping up to the road, his boots scuffling softly in the dirt, Newt set off for home with only the light of the moon to guide him. This was a practiced journey now, and it was best traveled at night. Danger lurked all around him most days, and he was finally on his way to the only place he felt safe. Years of war had put his senses on edge, and he was ready to let down his guard a little for the first time in several days. He was tired. He was always tired now.

I imagine this story to take place about 5 years after Paris. They have now moved into a home in the country. It may or may not be the house in Dorset where they retire. I am thinking...probably not. Starter home, for sure.

It was a surprisingly clear night, a few fluffy clouds danced in the light of the nearly-full moon, and Newt allowed himself to look up at the constellations above his head. His sharp, green eyes traced the memorized shapes of Draco, Cygnus, Aquila… They were familiar, constant, and a little calming; he realized they brought him back to nights of safety at Hogwarts, huddled under a blanket as he charted them from the Astronomy Tower with Leta. Distant, sad memories, now. He walked on, the summer breeze becoming slightly colder as it pushed his messy fringe back from his forehead.

I did so much research for this stupid paragraph. I looked up which constellations would be visible in England in the summer. I imagine he and Leta charting toward the end of the school year, May or June. This is probably taking place about the same time of year. Early summer.

Atop a hill, Newt stopped and looked down into an empty clearing below him. The moon shone on a wide expanse of grass, a rolling area cut out of the trees that stretched back to the small brook in the distance. He reached into his coat, pulling his wand out of hiding. Newt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. He smiled widely as a white cottage edged with white fencing, several small outbuildings, and a large garden came into view.

I’m thinking this charm used is similar to the charm used on Grimmauld Place. A break in the matrix, I guess. Visibly, they just eliminated part of the valley where the house is so that it’s super hard to find. You need a password to find it. Occamy is the password, for the record. Tina, Newt, Jacob, Theseus, and Dumbledore are the only people who know the password.

As Newt entered the front gate and let it fall closed behind him with a creak, he could smell the flowers that had been potted near the front door and under the windows. They were new. They must have been planted in the last four days since he had last been here. A single light shone in the window on the second floor, dim and welcoming.

Quietly, Newt unlocked the front door with a wave of his wand and let himself in, closing the door tightly behind him and replacing the security spell. It was dark in the entryway, but the light from the next floor was enough for him. He slipped his wand back into the holster at his hip and, with practiced agility, silently began to climb the wooden stairs. He could hear a voice now, a single, soft voice that was coming from the illuminated doorway to the right of the stairs.

For those who read this for the first time, I was trying to make this story seem like Newt was coming home and someone was in his house. I don’t know if that was the feeling that came across through the words, but it worked in its own way.

Newt was captivated by the sight before him. In the light of a single lamp was his everything. Tina was sitting in a wooden rocking chair, her hair tangled and her eyes puffy and tired. She wore the same blue housecoat that she had brought with her from America four years ago, even more worn and ragged now than it had been the first time he had seen her wear it. She was singing a song as she rocked, her eyes watching the small bundle in her arms. The song was in Hebrew. Newt didn’t know what the words meant as they slipped softly and with practiced ease from her lips, but he knew it was probably a song that her father had sang to her when she was young. One finger brushed the fuzzy, dark hair over the baby’s ear in a repetitive motion as she rocked.

He watched from the shadows of the doorway until she finished, his shoulders relaxing and his heart clenching at the view before him. Here he could finally be free of the dangers of the outside world. He was home. He stepped into the room and Tina looked up toward him.

Their baby is probably only a month old at this point. Tina is tired. As someone who has lived that life, you don’t sleep much that first month because babies need to eat every couple of hours those first few weeks. This is doubly hard when your partner is away. Tina can’t have random people into their home due to security so she has probably been going non-stop for days. Our girl is exhausted.

“You’re home.” Words that held surprise, relief, and care, all at once. She smiled tiredly up at him as he walked toward the rocking chair, kneeling next to her on the floor.

“I missed you,” she whispered as he leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips. He rested his forehead against her temple as he lifted one hand to caress her cheek.

“I missed you, too, love. Very much.” He looked down at the bundle in her arms where dark blue eyes stared attentively up at him. Eyes that looked just like Tina’s; eyes that Newt hoped would fade into a dark, fiery brown as beautiful as her mothers’.

Most babies are born with blue eyes. The darker the blue, typically the darker color they will fade into. This one will definitely have Tina’s dark brown eyes. ;-)

“Why are we still awake, my little one?” The baby in Tina’s arms was wide awake, her eyes were alert and a single arm that had escaped from her swaddle was waving slowly through the air, her little hand grasping and unclenching at nothing. At the added attention, she let out a coo and a grunt as she blinked up at them. Newt reached out and placed his first finger into her hand where it was gripped tightly.

Newborns grunt, groan, and snort....do not imagine a little coo. She probably is snorting like a tiny, cute little piggy. 

Tina leaned back and kissed his cheek. “She was waiting for her Papa, I guess,” she whispered into his ear. Newt smiled widely, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s face. He released a deep breath and slowly rose to his feet.

“C’mere.”

Tina rolled the rocking chair forward and stood, meeting her husband and sinking into the comfort of his arms, their child between them.

“I’m so glad to be home. Four days is far too long,” Newt whispered as Tina rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“Were you able to find it?” She asked, mumbling the question into the fabric of his jacket.

“I was. Dumbledore was very pleased.”

Honestly, I have no idea what Newt was trying to find. I never explored that, and I decided that it didn’t actually matter. “It” will remain a mystery.

Tina snorted lightly, “He’d better be-- and he’d better let you stay home for at least a few weeks before sending you off to Mercy knows where again.”

Newt chuckled as he leaned his head against his wife’s. “I told him just that not two hours ago. I’m needed here right now. No more trips for a while.”

“Good.”

Newt knows how tough this trip was for Tina. He put his foot down when Dumbledore asked for another favor as soon as he returned from wherever he was. He finally said no. It took Tina’s well-being and time with his daughter to get him to that point. Dumbledore is secretly approving of this and respects it.

They stood like that for quite a while, Newt rocking the three of them lightly and rhythmically. Tina leaned on his shoulder, breathing deeply and evenly, and their daughter gripped his finger as her eyes finally began to soften.

Tina yawned, breaking the peaceful moment before snuggling more closely into Newt’s shoulder. He chuckled again, rubbing her back where he held her. “Go to bed. It’s late.”

“Yes, but you just got home.”

“--and I will be here when you wake up,” he whispered. “Go.”

Tina sighed deeply and kissed his shoulder. “Mm, okay, fine.” She grinned tiredly up at him and leaned forward for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tina gently transferred the baby to Newt’s waiting arms before leaning down and kissing her forehead gently. “--and I love you, my darling,” Tina whispered as her knuckle gently caressed her child’s soft cheek. She stood up straight and began walking from the room. She waved at Newt from the doorway before making her way back down the dark hallway to their bedroom.

It’s probably around 11:00 at night, Tina will sleep for at least 6 hours, and it will be glorious. She earned it.

“Goodnight,” Newt said to her quietly as she slipped from the room. His attention fell to the child in his arms. She squirmed as she tried to get comfortable, letting out a single cry in the silence.

“Sh-sh-sh,” he whispered as he rocked her in his arms, “Shh, I’ve got you, Papa’s got you.” Newt shuffled over to the painted rocking chair in the corner, a gift from Uncle Jacob, and slowly lowered himself into it, rocking forward and backward steadily. The baby seemed to settle a little in his arms as she struggled to find sleep.

I decided that Tina called her father “Papa,” and when she introduced her baby to Newt, she said, “Meet your Papa.” The name stuck. 

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” he asked softly as he continued the comforting motion, “I’ve been on quite a journey for Dumbledore this week. I missed you and your mother terribly, but I found some truly interesting things while I was away.” Newt’s gentle voice rose and fell as he began to tell of wanderings through the woods, spellwork, and searches for old books. His daughter’s eyes drifted closed as he spoke of a meeting with a very odd old witch who had been determined to ‘fatten him up’ before she would allow him to leave her rickety, stone cottage. He continued his tale, rocking gently, as he held his child in his arms. Even after he was done speaking he continued rocking. He watched her sleeping, her cheek pressed against his chest as she breathed deeply.

Newt is a pretty fidgety guy, but at this moment he finds himself to be completely relaxed and happy. I’m imaging he’s pretty tired too, but he’s prepared to give Tina the rest she needs. Tomorrow will definitely be a lazy day in the Scamander household. 

He was home, and he was staying. War might be raging outside, but he was needed here. The rest of the world could wait.

[dark-wicked-marvel-fics]

Pushing His Luck

Bucky X Reader! 

WARNINGS! Extreme Non-Con, Violence, Roofies, Kidnapping, Dark Bucky, Somnophilia. This is a really dark fic so please don’t read if that isn’t your kind of thing. 

“You had no idea that Bucky Barnes wanted you, you had no idea about the thoughts he had about you, the dirty fantasies you starred in. But you were about to make them come true anyway.”

Chapter One

“Hey doll, could you look at this for me?” Bucky asked with a hopeful expression, holding his phone out.

 You smiled kindly and leaned across your desk to look at the nonsense article on the screen. It was some pop culture stuff he pretended not to understand and while your eyes skimmed the article, his eyes drank in the spectacular view of your cleavage.

“It’s about this movie everyone loves, The Princess Bride. It’s full of memorable quotes that people use all the time. You should watch it, it’s really good.” You told him.

 “Thanks sweetheart, I know I’ve been out of the ice a while but I can’t seem to catch up with everything.” He said, ducking his head and laughing at himself.

 “You’ll get there Sarge.” You encouraged him.

 “Yeah, thanks Doll.”

  It had started out innocently enough, this obsession he had with you. When he had first met you, he was still a bit reserved and hadn’t been able to talk to you much so he would just watch you from afar. Over time his confidence grew, as did his obsession. He could chat away with you easily now, but there was something satisfying about you not knowing about his crush, his lingering looks. You mistook his little touches as accidental brushes and it sent a thrill through him every time.

 He would reach for something on the self above you in the kitchen while you were cooking and press his crotch into you ass for just a second and you’d blush so prettily and pretend it didn’t happen and he’d spent the next hour in his room with his fist wrapped around his cock. You had such a gorgeous ass, he loved thinking about smacking it till it was all pink and then he’d want to cum all over the marked globes.

 One he reached for something at the dinner table, looking straight ahead you wouldn’t know he’d brushed your breast by accident. Your breath had hitched but you had ignored it, ducking your head and concentrating on your food. That night he’d spent close to an hour in the shower jerking himself off, wondering what it would feel like to squeeze them together with his cock wedged between them. When he came on the shower tile with a groan, his eyes were closed and he was imagining shooting his load all over your tits.

 And the time he’d ‘playfully’ wrestled you for the remote control, the way you’d wriggled and struggled underneath him was so fucking hot he’d had to let you win before you felt how hard he was getting. Not that you hadn’t felt how hard he was before. He’d managed to step forward at just the right moment once while you were reaching for something behind you and your palm had brushed across his fully erect cock beneath his jeans. He’d stammered and apologised, saying it just happened sometimes and you’d been bright red. You’d apologised for days and he’d loved it.

  He decided he needed to do something a little riskier than look today, he was hard as a rock and needed something to get him off. He wandered around the compound looking for you, thinking about what he was going to do when he found you… Maybe he’d pretend to have a clumsy moment and trip into you. If he angled it right he could probably get his face near those gorgeous breasts you kept covered under your blouses. But fate was for once, smiling down on him because when he found you, you were fast asleep in the common room.

 Tony let you have a room on site because you worked such long hours and you must have wandered in here to watch a movie but passed out halfway through. You were alone but there were camera’s everywhere and he wanted to play it safe anyway. Scooping you up in his arms he carried you bridal style back to your room. You stirred but didn’t wake, you must be tired and he had made sure not to jostle you too much.

 You were so soft and warm and you smelled amazing. As he kicked your door open he noticed something that had his heart beating erratically in his chest. Beneath the soft material of your t-shirt he could see two stiff peaks. You weren’t wearing a bra, just a loose fitting top. He set you down on your bed very gently and waited a few moments to make sure your breathing didn’t change.

 He used his well honed assassin skills to quickly snoop around your room while he waited to make sure you were sleeping deeply, his engorged cock rubbing uncomfortably against his boxers in his jeans. He opened the top drawer of your dresser, correctly deducing it was your underwear drawer. He bit his lip to stifle a moan when he saw the collection of lace and silk. He hadn’t pictured you wearing such scandalous underwear but he very much approved. He picked up a pair of black lace French briefs and pressed to soft material to his face, rubbing it across his lips. They were perfect. He stuffed them into his pocket and turned back to you.

  Something interesting caught his eye and he realized you’d laid out your outfit for tomorrow across the back of a chair. Including your underwear, a simple pair and baby pink silk briefs. He carefully picked them up and shoved them down the front of his jeans, rubbing the material across the swollen head of his cock before he put them back on the pile.

 Now for the main event… Your breathing was even and deep and you didn’t even stir as he knelt on the bed next to you. His fingers carefully lifted the shirt and dragged it upwards, exposing your stomach inch by inch until the curve of the bottom of your breasts peeked out from under the material. He forced himself to remain calm as he pulled the top up to your collarbone, almost cuming at the sight of your rosy nipples. He salivated as they were exposed and before he could think about what he was doing he leant down and pressed a chaste kiss to bud of your right nipple.

 You barely stirred and he flicked his tongue out, tasting the tender flesh. Your breath hitched a little but you still didn’t wake and feeling braver than ever and wild with desire he closed his mouth around the peak and sucked on it. His could feel the pre-cum staining his boxers as you moaned softly in your sleep and stirred. He regretfully released you and sat back. You settled down again and he silently pulled his phone out of his pocket and making sure the flash and shutter were off, took a beautiful picture of your exposed tits, one nipple still damp with his spit.

 He had hit the jackpot and didn’t want to push his luck any further so he sadly pulled your top back down and slipped out of the room.

 As soon as he shut his own door behind himself he was unzipping his jeans and had his cock in his hand before he even sat down in the nearest chair. He wrapped his fist around his shaft and used his other hand to prop the phone on the coffee table, the high resolution image of your boobs glowing on the screen. He pumped furiously with one hand, pulling your stolen panties out of his pocket with the other. He used his thumb to rub pre-cum around his red, swollen, leaking tip while he gleefully though of you pulling your pink panties on in the morning.

 It didn’t take long for him to reach the peak of his orgasm, thinking of how your nipple had felt under his tongue and he shot thick, ropey spurts of semen onto your pilfered panties with a loud groan.

 He was spent and satisfied for now but he couldn’t help but think. He’d gotten away with so much tonight… How much more could he get away with?