#and the only one of these that was written FOR me was Arie no longer being in Orzammar or a princess

[invinciblerodent]

Having a single moment of realization that the common denominator for literally ALL your characters (not only the MAIN ones who are just... queer and have a visceral need to be useful and therefore surely also liked) is that they all struggle to figure out who exactly they are after some non-canon event made them realize that what they previously thought to be their identity was merely a restrictive illusion imposed upon them from an outside source... really hits different a few minutes before midnight.

Like at this point I'm unsure if that's just a common narrative theme for any character, or if I should go back to therapy asap.

[navybrat817]

On the Rocks

Pairing: Bartender!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You're not sure why Ari doesn't seem to like you, but you two have to work together.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Tension, coworkers, bit of grumpy and sunshine, misunderstanding, future smut, Ari Levinson and he's slightly rude at first (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy this intro to my Gin and Bear It AU. @spectre-posts requested bartender!Ari to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #13 in bold. TECHNICALLY not smut, but there will be smut in future parts. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't one to brag, but you were good at your job. You showed up on time and stayed late if necessary. Never dropped a tray or drink. Didn't skip out on cleaning or any other tasks. And not only were you attentive with your customers, you showed just enough skin to keep it professional and never went home with anyone at the end of the night. Your work ethic helped you earn the respect of just about everyone at the establishment.

Except for Ari Levinson.

You eyed the gorgeous bearded man behind the bar, your blood rushing faster through your veins. He didn't spare you a glance. He hardly ever did. Everyone else who worked there got a smile from him. Even a smirk. But you? An unimpressed look was what you got on a good day. You chalked it up to you being a new member of the staff, until the barback who started after you received kinder treatment from him.

To be fair, it wasn't like Ari hated you. He didn't seem to particularly like you either. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Maybe there wasn't a specific reason. Some people just didn't mesh well. It didn't stop you from treating him like every other coworker. The two of you had to work together whether he liked it or not.

“Hey,” you smiled as you stopped at the bar and set your tray down. You waited a second for him to acknowledge you, but he kept drying glasses. “Three Jack and Cokes, please.”

That got Ari's attention. He didn't have to greet you, but you both had a job to do. You waited in silence while he made the drinks. He didn't look at you, but you looked at him.

He was in good shape. Great shape, in fact. With his large and somewhat intimidating size, you were surprised he wasn't a bouncer. He was a good bartender though. He wouldn't have a job there if he wasn't.

It wasn't right how attracted you were to him since he never seemed to give you the time of day.

“Thanks,” you said when he set the drinks on the tray for you.

He grunted and turned to put the bottle back.

“You know, we’ve been working together for almost three months. One of these days you may actually carry on a conversation with me instead of answering me with random sounds,” you teased.

“I'm here to work, not chat,” he said over his shoulder, his deep voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine despite his statement. “You should do the same.”

You sighed when you picked up the tray. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Like always.

“Don't need friends.”

It was a bit of an odd statement. You said friendly, not friends specifically. “Aren't Steve and Bucky your friends?” You asked. They were two of the other bartenders. Best friends and good to the rest of the staff. Protective, too, always quick to jump in if a customer got mouthy or handsy.

Ari’s jaw clenched as he faced you, but you didn't cower. “Yeah, they are.”

You may not have cowered under his gaze, but you sure as hell felt small the longer he looked at you. “But you don't want to be my friend,” you said.

“I don't need more friends,” he said dismissively as your stomach dropped. You wished it didn't hurt to hear that and you had to blink rapidly when you felt a familiar telltale burning in your eyes. “Anything else?”

Plastering a smile back on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, you straightened up. “Noted. We aren't and won't be friends,” you said before you added with more bite than you intended, “And don't worry, Ari. I don't need anything from you.”

He must've noticed the shift in your tone, too, since his jaw clenched harder than before. You walked off before he had a chance to say anything, cursing yourself inwardly at your tone. You shouldn't have let his dismissal get under your skin. Besides, he was right. You were there to work and your customers needed their drinks.

So, why did it bother you so much that Ari didn't want to be your friend? It shouldn't matter. There were lots of people who worked together who never talked or saw each other outside of their jobs. You wished he would've given you a chance, but you’d respect his decision.

For the rest of the night though, you planned to avoid him like the plague.

As your shift went on, you felt Ari’s eyes on you. Instead of looking back at him or giving him a smile like usual, you ignored him or acted like he wasn't there. You didn't stop at his end of the bar, going instead to Steve to get your drinks. For the first time since you started working there, you had Ari's full attention.

And for once, you didn't want it.

By the end of your shift once you wrapped up just about all of your tasks, you were ready to get out of there. “Any plans after closing?” You asked Steve, counting out tips for him.

“I might be seeing someone,” he smiled gently, his gaze flickering to a woman sitting alone at a table.

You raised an eyebrow. Patrons hit on the guys all the time, but it was rare for them to take anyone home. “Well, I hope you have a good time,” you said before nodding over to Bucky who was sitting at the bar, too. “Isn't it your night off?”

Bucky smiled softly. “It is, but my girl should be here in a few minutes. We won't stay long.” His girl has gone through some heartbreak before she rolled into town and the brunette quickly became her knight in shining armor.

“You have fun, too,” you said, sliding off the stool with a sigh.

Steve’s brows pinched. “You okay?”

“I will be,” you said, not wanting to lie to him and pretend you were fine. You also didn't want to get into what was going on. Feeling sorry for yourself didn't do you any good and everything would be okay tomorrow.

“You sure?” Steve swung his head toward Ari. “You think I didn't notice that you haven't been back to that end of the bar?”

You glanced in that direction, inhaling sharply as you met Ari’s gaze. He crossed his as he stared you down, tension as thick as fog. All you could see were the blue of his eyes and you had to look away so you didn't lose yourself.

“Just an off night. Nothing to worry about,” you said, pushing over Steve’s cut. “And I’m out for the night unless you need anything else.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. “Need one of us to walk you out?” Bucky offered.

“No, I’m good,” you said, sighing again when you realized you’d have to pass by Ari to leave. You also had to give him his tips. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”

Ari stood in the same spot as you walked toward him, your heart beating erratically. One day he may not make your heart race like that. “Night,” you smiled sadly, setting his tips down on the bar and walking on.

You grabbed your bag from the backroom and headed out for the evening with your keys in hand, shivering at the slight chill in the air. It wasn't until you were about halfway to your car that you heard footsteps behind you, making you tense up. Maybe you should've had someone walk you out.

“Hey.” It was Ari. “Wait up.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a quizzical look. “Why? Do you need something?”

Ari looked up at the night sky and ran a hand through his long hair, but didn't reply. You were two seconds away from walking to your car when you heard above a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You asked when he met your eye. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“I was an asshole to you earlier,” he replied, surprising you as he took a step forward. “Been kind of an asshole to you since day one when you've been nothing but friendly.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said. Why did it matter now?

A stricken look crossed his features before he put up his mask again. “Why were you so nice to me then when I was an asshole to you?”

You shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal. “Because I had no reason to be rude to you, Ari,” you replied. It was that simple. “I was upset earlier though and I did avoid your side of the bar, but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“But-”

“You don't have to like me. You really don't,” you told him, the words bittersweet. “But we do have to work together. So as long as we’re civil to each other, it’s fine.”

You fought the urge to step back when Ari took another step forward. There was usually a bar between the two of you when you stood near him. Up close with nothing between you showed just how large he was. And he smelled good, too, because of course he did. “I never said I didn't like you.”

“Maybe not with words, but your actions kind of said it for you. Seriously, there’s an obvious difference in your demeanor with me versus everyone else,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his blue eyes full of regret. At least he acknowledged that.

“Not to mention, you just said tonight that you didn't need more friends. Between that and your attitude, the natural assumption is that you don't like me,” you said. What else were you meant to think?

He nodded. “I can see why you’d think that, but I'm sorry.”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment. You weren't exactly sure what to say. “Okay, well. Apology accepted, I guess. Good night.”

“Wait,” he said when you began to turn away. “Do you really wanna know what I thought about you when you started working here?”

The skeptical look was back on your face. “I’ll admit I'm curious, but I won't just stand here if you’ll continue to be an asshole to me.”

He chuckled. Did you actually make him laugh? “I wouldn't expect you to,” he said, taking a breath. “This might get me fired if you complain.”

“Just say it, please,” you half begged. “Whatever it is, it can't be-”

“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you ‘til you screamed my name.”

You sputtered, an embarrassing sort of sound. It wasn't what you expected to hear. Ari Levinson wanted to fuck you? Since the moment you met?

“You what?” You asked, wanting to hear him say it again.

“I want you and I’ve imagined fucking you all over the bar every day since you started working here. The tables, the booths, the office, against the wall, even in the bathroom stalls,” he spoke, his voice deep and confident as you tried not to whimper. How were you already wet? “But not just that.”

You bit your lip. “What else?”

His gaze softened. “I think about your smile. You have such a beautiful smile.” You did whimper this time. Since when was praise so important? “And how you giggle at bad jokes. And how you sway your hips to the songs you like. And how you're just so fucking kind, even to those who don't deserve it.”

“You like me?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You held up a hand, your head spinning from his confession. “Wait. Hold on,” you said, trying to get your bearings and not throw yourself into his arms. You needed to have some self respect. “You’ve been an asshole to me because you like me?”

Why do men do dumb things?

Ari winced. “Not my smartest plan, I’ll admit, but I thought pushing you away before anything happened was the best move.”

“Why though? Why push me away?” You asked.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don't like to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.” It wasn't a secret that Ari was single, but there was a story there. “But that doesn't excuse being cold toward you. And if you’re willing, I’d like to start over.”

You searched his gaze for sincerity and found it. “So would I.”

His expression softened more, relieved. The fact that he wanted to try gave you hope for things moving forward. “And maybe we can grab a coffee at the diner? Just talk?”

Your eyes rounded. Was Ari asking you out? “When? Now?” You asked.

He smiled. “If you’re free.”

You smiled back and shook your head. “Nope. Sorry, Ari.”

Ari's smile fell immediately. “No?” He repeated the word in disbelief. You were in disbelief yourself. “No you aren't free or no you don't want to hang out with me?”

“Any other day, I’d love to have a coffee with you and talk or for you to make good on that promise of bending me over the bar and making me scream your name. But tonight?” You batted your eyes for good measure. “No, I don't.”

“Oh.” Ari blinked and cleared his throat. “I guess that makes sense after how I acted.”

“It makes perfect sense. A quick apology doesn't get you off scott free for how you treated me,” you told him, taking a step closer yourself this time. “So change my mind.”

“Change your mind?”

“Yeah. Let's start over like you suggested and you find a way to change my mind. I'm not saying you have to be overly friendly during our shifts, but treat me a little better. Show me why I should give you a chance and ask me again later,” you answered, gliding your fingers along his forearm once you were close enough. “And I'll still be nice to you. I promise.”

“So, you want me to woo you?” He smirked after a moment, one that nearly made your panties melt. “I can do that.”

You giggled. “I think I deserve it.”

“You do. And my first step in mending things,” he said, offering his arm as he stepped back. “How about I walk you to your car?”

“You may,” you smiled, linking your arm with his. You felt him flex a bit and you almost giggled again, a spring in your step as you walked. One day you’d feel him pin you down with that strength. You’d be patient though.

After all, he promised to woo you first.

How do we think he'll make it up to you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[duskyvenus]

444: Written in the Stars

A PAC about the person who is the one for you 💖 Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes and choose the photo that speaks to you. Six piles left to right. This is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates.

Pile 1

Your person likes/has cats or cats can be significant in your relationship. This person really likes nature and animals. They like listening to music and may have a record player at home. Could also be an artist. A highly sensitive person. They see beauty in everything. They like taking photos to capture memories. May have brown hair or brown eyes. March and April might be important. This person is a bit melancholic and absentminded at times (?) It can be hard to notice at first but they have a lot on their mind. Nevertheless they know that they are more sensitive than most people and try to stay hopeful. You could feel resilience and healing energy oozing from them when you talk to them. They could also be a therapist or counselor or someone who studies psychology. They have the vibes of a very calm and nice teacher who minds their own business. They know how powerful words can be and they insist on maintaining peace. A very helpful person. "I know you can do it but let me do it for you" kind of person. Numbers and signs: 33, 3, 19, 14, Pisces, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Cancer, Leo

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 2

Your person likes coffee or tea. They like celebrating their wins. I'm seeing cakes and lots of smiling faces. They are definitely very outgoing. They like forming meaningful relationships, not just mindless networking. They have creativity and a lot of ideas, so they could be a content creator or influencer. Sharp, spontaneous and open-minded. They're also financially secure; I'm seeing a job in finance. And they rely on people a lot more than they should? Maybe because they are looking for something that they can't find in a job. I'm seeing some co-dependency. They carry a lot of nostalgia and regret in their heart; someone who feels homesick for people. They may have studied anthropology and sociology. Couple outfits or couple activities is their thing. The type of person who gets hurt by people but still cannot imagine a whole life without a partner. June or October might be significant. They collect things like stamps or shells or dried flowers. Their house could look like a museum. YOLO could be their motto. Numbers and signs: 25, 1, 11, 13, Libra, Sagittarius, Aries, Leo, Taurus, Pisces

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 3

This pile has some young energy. Someone with a competitive spirit. They have this spoiled princess/prince persona for the people that don't know them very well. In reality, they are someone who works very hard to achieve success and they could be very smug about their accomplishments which might put some people off. I'm sensing that they believe in manifestation and law of attraction. They're also a bit defensive and guarded so it's hard to get to know them. I think they are someone who just wants to have control over their own life. They might have grown up in a situation where they didn't have much control over decisions concerning them so now, they are just trying to get their power back. They learned to stand up for themselves so now the people that could no longer control them are not happy about it. They made peace with it though. They're focusing on making their pinterest board dream life come true. One of their biggest dreams is to live in a beautiful house. January and August could be important. Numbers and signs: 16, 8, 5, 4, Scorpio, Virgo, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Sagittarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 4

Your person is everywhere but also nowhere. They remind me of shows like my liberation notes, they feel like a warm cup of tea that comforts you at the end of a stressful day. They are the “always the artist but never the muse" trope. Similar to pile 1, they are soft spoken and kind. They fit in but they don't feel seen. They like journaling their thoughts because they feel so much. "I don't know where to put it down" Despite this, they have a small group of friends that feel like soulmates or soul family to them. Getting closer to them can be hard because they just enjoy their own solitude that they don't feel the need to be with someone all the time. Very independent. When you get to know them though, you will find that they are very accepting and funny even. A true friend and a loyal partner. They will love to share their interests and hobbies with you. They desire someone who gets them on a spiritual level and they will always be there for you. They really value loyalty and a no bs attitude. For some of you, they could be from a different culture/country. They can probably speak many languages. The type to learn your native language so that communication is never a barrier. Numbers and signs: 32, 13, 14, 5, Virgo, Gemini, Pisces, Leo, Libra, Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 5

This person has an elusive persona. The cold and rich male lead character of a manhwa/drama. They prefer night over day; might be a night owl. They are secretly a hopeless romantic. They need someone who is like sunshine. Initially they give off this dark, serious and mature vibe but underneath they have a very soft core. They are a very caring and nurturing person but that energy has been stifled because of their environment. The reason why they act so serious is because they don’t want people to take advantage of them. To them, you are like a warm ray of sunshine that makes them feel alive again. They hate authority. They hate having all these responsibilities that tie them down and keep them busy. They are deserving of their position because of their hard work and leadership qualities, but sometimes they just want to run away from it. They feel that they have a different purpose. However, they could be hesitant to move on from their comfort zone. Out of all the piles, this pile is the most eager to meet you. They said, “you have so much light, the plants grow towards you”. Numbers and signs: 25, 8, 14, 3, Capricorn, Virgo, Leo, Cancer, Taurus, Aries, Libra

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 6

This pile has a very endearing energy. Someone who goes through all of it and yet chooses to be kind. “Memories are all I have” A very poetic or sentimental kind of person who struggles in making decisions. Also, they like humor based on their own pain. They like visiting places that are off the grid and collecting random things. They often dress up to go nowhere. They tend to do a lot of silly things that wouldn’t make sense to the average person because they are silly, duh. Quite the hopeless romantic too. Apart from all the silliness, they are avoidant of the reality because they often dissociate and have tendency to spiral into inner turmoil. They may struggle to understand their own feelings. All this is hidden under the persona of being the happy go lucky friend. In the end, they just want to bond over the little things and enjoy the mundane tasks of everyday life with someone. They may work in a field related to children or history. May, September could be significant. Numbers and signs: 26, 6, 2, 18, Cancer, Scorpio, Gemini, Pisces, Virgo, Libra, Aries

Thank you for reading!!

[wolfy1298]

Don’t you ever wonder what kind of secrets and plot points Venti keeps hidden? He claims to be the weakest amongst the Seven-and that could be true given his whole 500 year slumber and poison and all- but he’s still a god. AND one of the original Seven. You gotta be good at SOMETHING to survive for this long…

He’s also the only archon so far that doesn’t have a second story quest so what is he hiding?! We have accounts of him literally shaping the land with ease from both the Golden Apple Archipelago events and his character stories. We know that he has close relationships with the Hexenzirkel and somehow managed to avoid conflict with them??? And there’s also the fact from the skyward sword series that he was originally a catalyst user before picking up the bow in honor of Amos. He’s pulling a Childe when it comes to weapons he currently uses and the ones he’s proficient in.

And don’t even get me started on his connection with Istharoth and Celestia! Mondstadt already has the Thousands Winds Temple AND the nameless island where both Venti and Istharoth were once worshipped. And from Before Sun and Moon, we know that the Thousand Winds (which Venti IS A PART OF) were once called the Thousand Winds of TIME, all of whom were created and controlled by Istharoth. AND THEN you have Venti suspiciously appearing in the right place at the right time again and again and again. He even self proclaimed knowing every song: past, present, and future. Hell he’s probably one of the only few beings in Teyvat who can naturally bypass Irminsul because of his songs: Nahida already shown it’s possible to save deleted info if rearranged into fiction so the same should work for songs and poetry. And there’s also what the hydro fungus in Nahida’s second story quest said about changing forms. That you need time for growth to occur. And Nahida - an ARCHON- had trouble maintaining her fungus form for even the short period of time. She was even told that to do so for longer, one would need to bypass time itself which is near impossible. AND YET VENTI CHANGED INTO THE FORM OF HIS FRIEND IMMEDIATELY AFTER RECEIVING HIS GNOSIS AND HAS YET TO CHANGE BACK OR TIRE FROM FATIGUE (as we know it). HOW STRONG IS HE. Sure, the yokai in Inazuma and Adepti in Liyue can all change into a human form, but we know in game that it takes a long time and steady energy to take on a human shape, and the Adepti all seem to have that ability naturally: there’s no bending the laws of nature if it’s already natural to them. So what’s Venti’s excuse?!

As for Celestia: there’s already written in the statue of Barbatos “the gateway to Celestia” and what not. And Khanreia! In the chasm AND in the Caribert quest, Barbatos and Mondstadt keep getting named dropped. According to Dainself, the city in the chasm is supposedly OLDER than Khanreia and possibly the Seven, yet BARBATOS of all beings is mentioned in the records you find??? And in Caribert, it’s a Mondstadtian woman who that one bloke had a child with. Never mind that Mondstadt is where Kaeya and Albedo - the two characters with confirmed Khanreian origins- end up! There’s also the fact that Khanreia seems to base its gods and names and whatever around Norse mythology….which has strong ties to GERMANIC HISTORY. WHICH MONDSTADT IS BASED OFF OF. And Enkanomiya, which was once ruled by Istaroth, is Greek origin. Suspicious considering all the connections to HERMES Venti keeps portraying. (And then there’s also a connection to all three places with the hexenzerkel with their Chinese names? Like I think I read somewhere that Alice is Aries(?)/Eris(?) and Nicole is actually Nike in the Chinese version? Which are very much based in Roman/Greek origins)

Oh and something I forgot to mention earlier with the whole Istharoth connection. Mondstadt’s saying “seeds of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated through time”. SUSPICIOUS

Anyways, this has been my nonsensical Venti theory rant

And you’re stuck with me @worldsokayestmagicalgirl

[writing-fanics]

Ok but Prince Eric x reader and star gazing

written in the stars

prince eric x gender-neutral!reader

a/n: since the gender of the reader wasn’t specified it’s gender neutral in this. but yes and thank you for being the first to request a prince eric x reader obviously I don’t exactly remember the constellations he said in the film so I just found some random ones that I thought he said.. don’t judge me if it’s wrong I’m planning on seeing the movie again next week with my mom and little sister only because I wanna see it again

(also no I ain’t doing my reasearch on when and where the constellations can and be seen at certain times and seasons that’s just too much work)

warning: cute moments: possible slight pinning

Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[Y/n] smiled as Eric pointed to the constellations in the night sky. Their eyes fixated on the stars as they laid in the rowboat underneath the stars, looking up at the endless night sky. “There’s Capricornus,” He said pointing to the star constellation.

“Orion.” Pointing towards another constellation, listening to him talk is like music to their ears. Just hearing how the names roll off the tip of his tongue with such ease.

“My favorite is, Leo.” [Y/n] said, pointing towards the constellation. Without hesitation Eric took their hand and slowly guided it to where, the constellation actually is.

Their heart skipped a beat as they stared at their hand in his. Their eyes met for a moment before looking away; Eric letting go of their hand.

“Why is Leo your favorite constellation?” He asked, they looked at him for a moment and smiled.

Shrugging their shoulders in response, “Honestly, I don’t know maybe either it’s because I’m a cat person or I’m just drawn to that constellation?” They said, looking at Eric.

“Never thought of you as a cat person..” he said, causing them to chuckle softly.

“there’s a lot about me you don’t know..” they said, smiling softly as they looked at him. They continued star gazing for a bit longer staring up at the night sky.

“Oh, and there’s Aries.” He said, and [Y/n] looked at him and smiled their gaze meeting once again. [Y/n]’s heart started pounding against their chest as they stared into each other’s eyes. Seemingly filled with longing that neither one of them seemed to pick up on.

Sitting up on the rose boat the two continued to look at each other, fireflies started to light up around them. As they slowly leaned in towards each other their lips getting closer and closer when……..

“We should probably head back.” They said, nervously looking at him sadly. Eric nodded, and towed back to shore they looked at each other and smiled warmly. Both somewhat embarrassed yet happy, at the time they spent together star gazing.

.a/n: sorry it isn’t the best started to drift off to sleep during the last few paragraphs but here it is y’all•

[themalevolentkitchen]

Call Me Babydoll

✨Content 18+ - MDNI - Minors Don't Interact✨

Genre: Smut with Toji Fushiguro x Vulva Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Jumps right in, swearing, finger kink, pet names, breath play, restriction (you could say heavenly), unprotected sex

Summary: Toji likes to fold you. And that fucking smile of his feels delicious.

Inspired Track: Babydoll (speed) by Ari Abdul

Word count: 603 words

Notes: I haven’t written anything in YEARS so fingers crossed you like this. Enjoy

All rights reserved © TheMalevolentKitchen

Notice: Mature Content. Over 18s only.

Published on AO3

✨Content 18+ - MDNI - Minors Don't Interact✨

It’s relentless.

You’re fully exposed. Ass up and folded. Moulded to his desire.

Your head is buried in the pillow, trying desperately to handle the heat radiating between the two of you. Failing to muffle the delicious whines that flow from your lips. A melody that matches the rhythm against your ass.

The room is filled with lewd noises.

The sheer pounding of skin-on-skin contact - his mound against your dripping arousal - blends seamlessly with the sounds from your lips. His grip is tight, pulling you back to meet him half-way, eager to not lose this drumbeat he knows you love so dearly. You’ll know it’ll bruise, but you couldn’t care less. Beautiful marks imprinted in your skin for the days to come.

He moves his muscular legs to either side of yours, somehow reaching deeper within you now. Toji rests upon his elbow, surrounding your body and hovering so close, you can feel heat from his body. You swear you feel his sweat mixing with yours. Reaching out, his hand grasps your shoulder, creating a new handle to pull you down onto him.

You feel his dampened hair first. His forehead shares your pillow, sensationally close to your ears. His laboured breath becomes a welcomed reward for folding your body in this way. It reverberates in your ears like a purr.

He’s starting to lose control.

Pulling himself together, a hand reaches into your hair, tugging you back and almost upright on your knees. You suck in air at the sting, which exhales as a mewl, “Ahhhh... fuck.” Your beautiful neck is exposed, and your sweet moans are no longer muffled by the pillow.

Toji’s fingers find your lips, teasing them with the lightest touch before working its way into your mouth. Firstly, one. Then two. Before three lay heavily on your tongue.

Oh, you wish you could have something heavier, but it’s currently brushing against your walls.

You willingly take his fingers. Teasing each digit, imagining it’s his cock as you work up a lathering drool. Your thoughts run rabid while his actions continue their onslaught, the pleasure within you about to snap.

“Ooh… doll. You’re taking me so well. Do you like it?” He growls in your ear, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a pop. You instinctively follow them, missing their presence. Drool covering them as he smears it across your lips. Forgetting your words and unable to think, you nod in agreement, still whining from Toji’s brutal pace.

Unhappy with wordless expressions, he snaps your head back. Pulling your hair and arching your body just the way he likes.

“Use your words babydoll. I said, "Do you like it?”” he barks it at you. That smile of his spreads across his face when he hears you. A breathless cry, “Y-Yes!”, is forced from deep within you.

Toji, now satisfied, releases your hair. Skilfully wrapping his fingers around your throat. Each digit flexes and presses just so, restricting the blood to your head. The other hand reaches to where you’re joined, circling your clit at an unforgiving pace.

Starting to spin, your head is deliciously dizzy. The pressure on your throat combined with the sensations from your clit, together leaves you open-mouthed and speechless in pleasure.

Your breath is short, and heavy, and he feels it vibrating from within.

His lips seek out your ear, breathing laboriously and matched to his rhythm. That familiar burning sensation ignites and races through your body. Your walls begin to pulsate and tighten around his cock. He can sense it, so groans deeply his command into your ear,

“Good girl. Now, fucking cum for me.”

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

Hi! congrats on the anniversary 🫶

For the fanfic request: Ichihime + second date ( first kiss ) 🍓🍞

As the Rain Falls

Rating: K/General with mild themes

Setting: little over a month after We do Knot Always Love You

Synopsis: Ichigo and Orihime go on their second date, both anxious and excited about their new relationship, but Ichigo has things on his mind he can’t shake off.

AN: First up, a sincere apology for how late this is!!! >_< I must admit, I kept getting writer’s block with this one, but I still wanted to persevere with it and try to write for different characters and a different ship.

At the same time however, I'll admit I’m nervous about this. I've never written a fic where Ichigo and Orihime are the main characters, and I know that they'll be written out of character as a result. And it's me, so this is probably more angsty than you wanted ^^;

I tried, and hopefully it makes for an entertaining read.

Hope you enjoy this one!

_______________________________

Ichigo tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and bounces his knee as he looks around AB Cookies.

Arisa, who is currently at the counter, told him Orihime was getting changed and should be out soon. It had been only two minutes since then, but why did it feel like longer?

He sits in the corner at one of the few indoor tables, mostly ignored by the customers coming and going from the store. All around him, the room is brightly coloured in pastel hues and styled in a way that makes it appear homely and cute. If not for Orihime, he wouldn’t normally come to a place like this.

When another minute passes, he thinks to pull out one of his textbooks and study while he waits. He only gets as far as frowning at his backpack. Why is he so nervous? It’s not like this was their first date – that’d happened just over four weeks ago – so where is this anxious, fluttery energy coming from?

He blinks at hearing Orihime’s voice drift from the back. He straightens when she emerges from the doorway behind the rows of breads. She’s dressed in a bright sweater and skirt, and her boots clack on tiles then the wooden floors when she lifts the counter top and steps out to his side. She smiles widely when she glances at him, and he can’t help but smile back in return – she’s one of the few people who has that affect on him. 

She only gives him her full attention after she says goodbye to Arisa, who in turn thanks her for her work. He stands up, shouldering his backpack as she approaches.

“Kurosaki-kun,” she greets. “Sorry for you keeping you waiting.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t take that long,” he says. He tips his head towards the exit. “You wanna get going?”

They end up in the main street of Karakura Town, walking towards the shopping district. Cars rush by and people crowd the streets. Above them is a mostly blue sky, but clouds linger.

“How was your day?” Orihime asks.

Ichigo shrugs one shoulder. “Nothing much. Just went to lectures mostly.”

“Which ones were they for?”

“English studies. What about you? Anything happen today?”

“A lot, actually. I told Ari -- Oh, wait!” She comes to a stop and reaches into her bag. “Are you hungry?”

Before he can even respond, she pulls out a bread bun and breaks it into halves. “It’s got red bean paste and strawberry in it,” she says as she offers one half to him. “It’s spares from the batches I made this morning, and I thought, since you were up early…”

He smirks fondly as he takes it from her. It’s so typical of her to think of something like this. “Thanks, I think I need this.”

She practically glows, and he has to bite into the bun to not embarrass himself with a stupid grin and chuckle. He hates how this reminds him of the way his father acted around his mother. He hopes to never be like that with Orihime, but even so, there are those moments where she gets to him, where her happiness and excitement become almost infectious.

“Is it good?” she asks.

He nods, mouth full, and it only makes her beam wider. He bites harder into the bun the next time as heat rises up his neck.

“So, I made that new donut for Arisa-san and Ichinose-kun,” she says.

“Oh, the one with seaweed, strawberry, and cashews?” he asks, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice; these new recipes she comes up with always mean a lot to her, even if he can’t comprehend them.

“Yes! Although I had to change it. I think I brought them around to it after create one without the cashews, but I'm starting to wonder if maybe peanuts might work better.

"I-Is that so?"

"I just think it needs a salty or nutty element! It still tastes good with jut the seaweed and strawberry though. They’re thinking about putting it in the front.”

Despite his reservations, he can’t help but he proud of her and his smile returns. “That’s great, Inoue.”

Something must show in his expression, because a faint blush colours her cheeks. “A-Anyway, after that I was speaking with Arisa-san…”

They keep walking down the street as Orihime talks and occasionally nibbles on her half of the bun. He listens to her, and as she carries on about her work – about the small things like finding a gacha trinket on the ground on her way to work, and bigger things like a corporate event who requested catering from the bakery – they wonder from the streets to a nearby park.

For not the first time, he thinks about how peaceful its' become. He still fights Hollows, but isn't as often as it used to be. There’s no looming threat over them, nothing to stop them from being by each others’ side. It’s why, along with seeing how happy Renji and Rukia were, and the former’s encouragement, he finally decided to ask Orihime out.

Their first date had been clumsy in the first hour. He’d planned dinner and a movie, a typical date night according to Keigo and Tatsuki. After Ichigo arrived late and Orihime got flustered trying to reassure him it was fine, the air had been awkward around them. Just the week before he’d confessed to her, and she did the same, and now it’s apparent their feelings for each other were more than either of them thought. Gradually, after they'd finished their dinner and they left to go see the movie, things eased.

Perhaps that where these fluttery nerves came from, left over from their last date. He'd thought he'd be more relaxed consider today’s date was even simpler: a walk in the park, then find a restaurant for a late lunch. It’d been Orihime’s idea, claiming she didn’t need to do anything fancy or complicated with him. He can’t help but suspect she had him in mind though, knowing he’d be tired from his studies and late nights of fighting Hollows and performing konsos on a wondering Souls.

Yes, he thinks as he finishes off his half of the bun, he’s grateful for this peace.

However, like how Zangetsu’s voice had haunted him in the months after the Arrancar’s invaded Karakura Town, there’s a part of him that lingers in the back of his mind, skeptical. It makes him notice the crowds all around them. Parents watching their children run and play around the park. Couples occupying benches or walking past them in their own worlds. A group of teens in school uniforms hunched over a manga magazine, laughing at something they’ve read. Everyone here had been under threat just over three years ago, and they hadn’t even known it. He’d defeated Yhwach, and yet he’s still haunted by ‘what-ifs’. What if he hadn’t defeated him? What if another threat lurks right beneath them, one that hasn’t been seen yet?

“Kurosaki-kun?”

Ichigo blinks out of his reverie. “Ah, sorry.”

Orihime blinks up him in concern, and had brought them to a stop at the park’s fountain. “Is something wrong?”

He thinks to hold it back in, to do what he always did and bottle it up. He’d stew on it, but it would pass or continue to linger somewhere within him, as everything else had. But what had helped him get over it? Rukia had, and Chad, and Uryu, and Renji, and Orihime. He should be able to tell her anything, especially now that they’re going out.

He doesn’t want his mood to bring the date down, and he knows if he says it’s nothing, she’ll drop it, not wanting to pry further. Even so, he knows she’ll worry about whatever is bothering him. He can’t do that to her.

He’s not sure where to start, but he opens to his mouth to say something.

And then there’s a plop on his head.

____________________________________________

Orihime had imagined scenarios like this many times. Ichigo would grab her hand and they’d rush down the street, the rain falling over them as their feet splashed through puddles. Somehow, the clouds would be thin enough that the sun would peak through, making colours more vibrant beneath the glittering rain. At some point, in slow motion, Ichigo would look over his shoulder at her, hair somehow unaffected by the rain and haloed in a lighter shade of orange. smiling confidently, and saying something heroic or sweet.

And right now, Ichigo turns his head over his shoulder, cringing with his bangs plastered to his forehead, panting for air, and trying to blink the rain from his eyes. “You okay?”

She too has to get rid of the drop falling around her eyes to see him, wiping them and a strand hair stuck to the side of her face away with the heel of her palm. “Y-Yes! But where are we going?”

The rain comes down in torrents, drenching them in less than a minute. Around them, everyone is rushing out of the park and back to the shops that line the streets. She considers asking if they can head back to AB Cookie, but considering how soaked they are, she doesn’t want to cause any trouble for the staff in cleaning up after them; they’d probably make puddles in the middle of the store.

They run across a zebra crossing, and then next thing she knows, Ichigo brings her under the awning of a closed up shop. They almost hit the shutter door, stumbling under the shelter.

They take a moment to catch their breaths, with Ichigo hunched over and Orihime leaning against the shop’s garage door.

“This rain came out of nowhere!” she says. “The forecast was sunny. Guess I should’ve known better when I saw the clouds.”

Ichigo rises from his hunch. “You can’t predict the weather, Inoue.” He half teases and half reassures her, and she’s grateful for it.

“It’s still a shame we can’t go to the park now,” she says.

“We'll go another time. There's other stuff we can do. Unless you'd rather head home."

"Maybe we should wait until the rain stops...or there's less of it."

He only hums in acknowledgement.

It’s only then she realizes he still hasn’t let go of her hand, and she fears looking down at their joined hands and drawing attention to it will make him want to pull away. She discovered very quickly he got embarrassed by PDA – whether it was between them or with other couples. It’s oddly cute to her, and she herself still wasn’t sure if she likes it either. Holding hands like this, though, is something she’s always wanted.

The skin of his palm and fingers is rough from callouses, but the back side is softer than she expected. And it’s warm despite the rain.

Without meaning to, she squeezes his hand, and he looks down. Instead of pulling away, he tilts his head to the sky, almost shyly. She withholds a bewildered giggle. He can still surprise her, it seems.

It’s a minute later when the rain lessens.

“It’s not as bad now,” she says.

“Yeah…” He’s not fully there, his gaze turned up at the clouds. The rain affects him in a way she doesn’t fully understand yet. In the years since she first met him, whatever grips has gradually faded from what it used to be.

“We can probably head…” she starts, but trails off.

Now what? They can’t go to the park, and they can’t go out to lunch with their clothes so drenched. Maybe they should call it a day, and try again for next week sometime. But as Orihime eyes Ichigo, seeing the slight clench in his jaw and the way his eyes narrow at the sky, she knows she can’t leave him alone.

“Um…”

At her nervous fidgeting, he blinks, coming out of his daze, and looks to her. “What is it?”

“We can, um…w-we can head back to my place. It’s close by, so…”

Orihime tries and fails to push the heat rising to her face. Yes, Ichigo has been to her place many times before, but not since they started dating. Who knows what could happen? She tries to dismiss the sparkling fantasies that threaten to take over her mind.

“If you’re okay with that," he says, "just until the rain stops.”

“Of course!”

“Well, then, thanks.” He gentle pulls on her hand. “We should get going.”

He begins to lead her back out into the rain again.

“Actually…”

“Hm?”

At his raised brows, Orihime quickly bows her head. “Ah, yes, sorry! I uh, just…actually, nevermind!”

“Hey, come on. What is it?”

Orihime drops her rueful smile with a defeated chuckle. “It’s just that, after our date, I planned to go to the convenience store to pick up a few things. With this rain though, it’s probably better that we just head back.”

“We can still stop along the way. You’ll need help carrying things, right?”

She’d never point it out, but there were times she senses an eagerness from him, one he’d keep reserved under many layers. It’s another endearing quality she secretly loved about him. With a nod, she says, “Then, if it’s not too much trouble….”

He gives her a small smile. “It isn't, Inoue.”

She has to turn away as her heart skips a beat.

They make a quick dash to the convenience store that’s a few minutes from her home. She stops under the entrance’s awning and grabs the end of her skirt to wring some of the rain water out. She barely hears Ichigo’s quiet chuckle over the rain. “Don’t think it’ll make much of a difference.”

“Well, we might end up making puddles in there,” she reasons.

“It’ll be fine, we’re not staying long, right?”

As soon as they enter the convince store, Orihime bows apologetically to the cashier. Ichigo just sniffs, trying to cover up another chuckle. She’s quick to go the aisles for milk and despite the slight indignation rising in her, Orihime is glad to see faint amusement in Ichigo's expression.

She’d also imagined a scenario like this, albeit without them being wet and cold. Somehow, though, she liked how this was turning out instead. Maybe it’s knowing Ichigo is following her as she went down the aisles, his footsteps always behind her or at her side. Maybe it’s the fact that when she picks up a cup of noodles, he asks what she’ll make with it, and even as she lists off all the ingredients that sound odd to put with it, he offers weary encouragement. Maybe it’s discovering he likes a particular brand of rice crackers when she goes to pick up her usual one, and explaining to him why she prefers this one over the others. They’re small, mundane things, but every little part of it is something she can say she’s experienced with him now.

Everything comes to a halt when they get to the freezers. Orihime almost frowns when she has to crane her neck to see the milk she normally buys. “They must have moved everything  around, these never used to be so high up.”

She opens the fridge door and stands on her tippy toes.

She stops when Ichigo steps up behind her and reaches his hand into the freezer. “I’ll get it.”

Her back is almost pressed against his chest, and as she turns to look at him, she’s struck once again by how tall he is. From this angle she can admire the strong line of his jaw, and watches a raindrop roll off it and hit the collar of the shirt beneath his jacket. Once he hands her the milk, she snaps out of it. “Ah, thank you!”

However, neither of them moves. Orihime stares up at him, and he stares back. Her heart flutters at the hint of softness in his gaze. It’s nothing like her fantasies, where there’s sparkles and flowers magically appearing around them. She swallows, unsure if she’s bold enough to do what she’d always wanted to ever since he confessed to her.

Before she can think any further, Ichigo clears his throat and abruptly turns away. “Sorry, I, uh…”

Orihime shakes her head and takes the bottle of milk from him. “Ah, i-it’s fine! I, um…hey, look, there’s my favourite icecream! I should grab a tub while I’m here!”

She quick to move away, and she’s certain the heat colouring her face will dry her scalp in no time.

Several minutes later, she pays for the milk, a tub of biscuit and tea flavored ice-cream, three cups of noodles, two ramen kits, and a packet of rice crackers.

When they step back out, he holds out his hand. “I can carry it.”

“There’s no need.” When his hand doesn’t drop, she takes out the milk. “If you’re sure.”

__________________________

Whenever Ichigo enters Orihime’s house, he’d find his gaze wondering over to Sora’s photo. It happens not long after he takes his shoes off and he steps into the main room, and today is no exception as he removed his jacket and hangs it on a free hook; it drips over his shoes. He only looks away when Orihime puts the shopping bag on the kitchen counter.

She puts away the ice-cream, and it prompts him to hand her the milk again. “This too.”

She comes over to him, takes the bottle, and as he makes to step into the main area, she holds up her hand.

“Hold on a second,” she says before turning and putting the milk in fridge.

He doesn’t move beyond the tiny foyer, waiting for her after she dashes off to the bathroom. She comes out with two towels and holds one out to him. “It’s not much, but maybe for your hair?”

“You didn’t have to,” he says. But the it occurs to him he’d probably drip all over her floorboards. “You sure you’re okay with me coming in?”

There’s a pause, and a faint blush rushes up in her face. “O-Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Think I’m going to make everything damp,” he says while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’ll dry eventually.” She lifts the other towel. “If you’re worried, you can always put this over the cushion at the kotatsu.”

He normally wouldn’t care, but he takes both towels from her. “Yeah, sure.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” she offers. “I’ll just go get changed and then make some tea. Or would you like hot cocoa? I got some a few days ago, I haven’t tried it yet.”

 “Tea is fine.”

She smiles with a nod before going to her bedroom.

He remains near his shoes, drying off his arms, face, and hair before going to kotatsu. After laying the second towel down over the cushion he sits. He continues patting down and drying his hair as he waits. He ignores the rain thrumming gently against the windows, and once again, his gaze wonders to Sora’s picture. A bowl of nashi pears lies on one side of the photo, and a recently lit incense stick on the other.

A part of him wishes he’d properly met her brother while he was still alive, so that Acidwire and the night he was brought to the Kurosaki Clinic weren’t the only memories he had of him. Compared to everything else, however, it feels like a distant memory, and it thankfully ended in a better outcome than others.

Orihime emerges from her room, now dressed in a new sweater and jeans, and a headband pushes her damp hair behind her shoulders. She hums while boiling the water and taking out the teapot. Watching her brings a sense of calm to him, and a relief that doesn’t surprise him as much as he thought.

It’s not the first time Ichigo wonders if everything they’ve been through has affected her. Does she still have bad dreams? How much had she told Tatsuki? Were there things she hadn’t told him yet? Would she ever tell him?

And perhaps that is what bothered him most. He, Orihime, and their friends had to live with those memories, and all of consequences that came with them as the world went on ignorant to what had almost happened.

He’d been almost ordinary once, going to school and getting into trouble with humans. At the time seeing the Souls always reminded him he was anything but normal, and since becoming a Shinigami, any chance of him being fully human had been dashed.

It had been his choice, one he didn’t truly regret despite everything that came after. He had been powerless to help others in need, to protect those he cared about, and Rukia had given him that chance on that fateful night.

But Orihime had been ordinary – or at least, more ordinary than him.

He didn’t know much about her parents, but of what little he did know, he knew they were the kind of people he would’ve kicked to the curb. And yet she had gone through that and was still able to smile, just as she had with everything that happened in Los Noches.

So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice her approach until she sets a mug down in front of him.

“Here,” she says. “It’s just black tea, I ran out of green. Didn’t think to get it while I was at the convenience store, silly me.”

He manages a faint smile. “It’s fine, thanks.”

She settles down to right, wrapping her hands around her own mug. After a moment, she says, “Before…there was something you were going to say. Do you still want to say it?”

He stares down at his dark reflection in the tea, considering. “It’s nothing major, and it’ll pass.”

She shuffles, and then her hand slides along the table and into his view, stopping centimeters from his. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she reassures. “I don’t want to upset you.”

“You don’t,” he says, raising his gaze to her. “You never have.”

It’s a bold confession from him, and he’s saddened to see her withhold a wince. Perhaps there are still some things she holds from the past, misplaced guilt in her role of situations beyond her control.

“Inoue.” He gingerly takes hold of her fingers, and struggles to find the right words. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Maybe it is.” She brings her hand around his, her grip warm and firm. “Whatever we face, it’s together, right?”

For a second he’s brought back to facing Yhwach. He’d asked Orihime to be his shield, to fight at his side against a foe of unknowable strength, for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

How could he have been so foolish right now?

He can’t help but smile ruefully to himself. “Yeah, of course.” Then, after swallowing thickly. “Are you happy?”

It’s a sudden question, one he hadn’t thought to ask but had come forth anyway. Sensing how loaded it is, Orihime looks out the window in thought for several heartbeats. Her lips form a slow, sweet grin. "I am."

He tries to ignore the skip of his heartbeat, and the uncomfortable way his throat constricts. Before he can say anything, she continues, and her smile wavers slightly. "What about you, Kurosaki-kun? Are you happy?"

He thought it would take him longer to answer, but it comes to him with a few memories. The first is returning to everyone after Yhwach’s defeat. Despite the mix of emotions -- the melancholoy of Yhwach’s final words and the pinch of fear for the unknown ahead of them --  it all dulled away to an intense relief at seeing his friends. Uryu stood far away, watching as everyone rejoiced at seeing one another. Ichigo knew a conversation would be had some point, but the fact he was there was enough hope for him for now.

The second was his high school graduation. He grumbled on the day it on the day, and despite how mundane it would seem to many compared to what he’d achieved in other worlds, he felt a small sense of pride at having finished it. Isshin of course was an embarrassment on the day, one minutes shouting his praises about Ichigo and the next weeping about how he's grown so much. He'd taken a picture of him and his friends together, one that Orihime had a copy of on the wall near her bedroom door.

The last was watching Renji and Rukia get married, seeing their friends and the Shinigami happy for them. It was only then the peace truly hit him, that maybe he can gather the courage to tell Orihime how he truly felt. And the excitement and anxiety that came when she said she was free three days from then.

The nerves from before hadn't just come from a change in their relationship, from friendship to something more, but from the thought it could be disrupted by a new threat. But he had chosen this dangerous life, and she had joined him and others in it. They all know the risks, but they didn't have to always be hyper-vigilant. They had to live.

“Yeah, I am.”

At her widened grin, he remembers for a short period of time after Yhwach’s defeat when Orihime had put on smiles, attempting to mask the sadness and pain she truly felt. According to Tatsuki, it had been while he was in his comatose state after Aizen’s defeat. In both cases, that gradually changed.

In the face of everything that had come before and because she had the courage to in the face over everything that tried to take it from her, she still smiles and laughs. She helps others and protects Karakura Town. He can see why otherwise would under-estimate her – he may have once himself – but in truth, she’s probably one of the strongest people he knows. He’d grown to love her for those reasons and more.

And he loves her for it. He gets strength from her because of it. He can go into this peace with her because of it.

It’s only then he realizes he’s gotten closer to her, so much so her face takes up most of his view. She stares at him wide eyed, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed as she tries to stammer out his name. It's just like before in the convenience store; she'd captivated him with just a look.

“Ah, sorry,” he chokes out, but he barely leans back. It’s as if he’s frozen in place, and the only way to come unstuck is to lean forward.

With one last gaze flickering to her lips, he leans in. She does the same before he closes his eyes. He’s be ashamed to admit he’d imagined this at more than once, but it’s not how he expected it to be. It’s soft and awkward, both of them frozen in place, afraid to move despite how misplaced their lips had locked. He pulls back a little and tries again. If Orihime’s quiet, pleased sigh and the way his heart beats faster is any indication, it’s better.

A warmth spreads through him, radiating from his chest and thrumming through his fingers. He’s light-headed as they pull apart, and when their eyes flutter open, his heart skips a beat at seeing the softness in her expression. He’s with her, holding her hand,

When the haze of whatever this is has worn off, he’ll elaborate further on what bothers him. And when he does, she’ll listen intently, holding his hand, and smile when he he’s done, and be glad he told her. More than that, however, she’ll be glad they can go together into this newfound peace.

Dealing with the memories of the darker and weaker moments had become easier him and the others as time went on. He, Orihime, and their friends kept walking forward in the face of it, and eventually alongside it, and one day, past it as they forge their futures.

[neoncowgirlposts]

Ohhhkay so I saw @bigtreefest post earlier about cevans characters in pickup trucks (yum) and had a long winded thought that became basically a one shot. 😭😭 This was super rushed and is my first time posting anything I’ve written so be nice please! ☺️ Love you besties!!!🩷🩷🫶🫶🫶🥰🥰🥰

Ari Levinson x reader | No minors pls! 💓 | I’m 99% sure this is gn!reader and racially ambiguous BUT if not PLEASE let me know and I will edit it. ❤️

You and Ari were on a recon mission that was only supposed to last a few days, but for some reason had dragged out to a week. It’s pushing two in the morning as he drives down the highway through the wooded, monotonous landscape. Not that it matters; it’s too dark to see outside anyways, and the headlights are too old to help much.

You knew Ari well enough to know he wouldn’t replace them until they truly gave out on him. That was how everything was with him. ‘Til the wheels fell off. Not that you minded. It was sort of comforting that he was so stuck in his ways, rejecting anything new in favor of his worn t-shirts and jeans, books with creased spines that he’s read a dozen times, and his dark blue, crew cab pickup truck.

Your line of work lacked routine, predictability, and most of the time, safety. In spite of that, Ari was always there, consistent as ever, grounding you, a gentle reminder of reality. Yeah, he could be reckless, but at the very least he was consistent.

Driving along, running your fingers lightly over the cracked beige leather of the passenger’s seat, you wondered if his sentimentality regarding his belongings served the same purpose for him. Comfort. Reminding him of his life and identity throughout all the chaos. You guessed so.

He had owned the damn truck longer than he had known you; a transitional object throughout the tumultuous seasons of his life. Almost like a child’s blankie, you thought with the breathiest little giggle.

He stirred next to you.

“Thought you were asleep,” he said gruffly, breaking you from your thoughts in the no-longer silent cab.

“No, um, I was just looking out the window. I woke up a few minutes ago. I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” you replied softly. He was exhausted, his eyes puffy and breathing slow. You both hadn’t slept for almost 36 hours when you had finally made it back to his truck. Though you had offered to drive, he refused and told you that you needed to rest.

“You didn’t disturb me. Not at all. I just want you to be able to sleep.”

”You need to sleep, too, Ari. You’ve been up almost two days.”

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” letting the endearment slip in his groggy state. “Don’t worry about me.”

He was okay. He would be okay. He could always endure more and suffer longer if it meant he could absolve you from having to do the same.

“Ari,” you said a bit more firmly. “Switch me. You need to sleep. The nearest town is 90 minutes away. I don’t want you to have to drive that far.”

”It’s okay. I told you it was fine. Go back to sleep.” His hands gripped more tightly at the spots they had worn into the steering wheel over time. Your gentle care and consideration of him had always made him feel some type of way, but his fondness for you and your comfort outweighed the blush licking up his neck at your thoughtful demand.

“No. Let me drive.”

“I’ll drive a little longer until we can find a motel to check into. Just drop it.”

”Ari get out of the—“

”AH, Shit!!” He yelled as he abruptly stopped his truck, startling you.

Ari breathed out a sigh as you trembled slightly at his sudden outburst, thinking it might be at you. He faced away from you as he inspected the dash, leaving you uncertain with tears brimming in your eyes and a quivering lip. Things had been hard lately. You felt like you couldn’t catch a break; your life was wild and you felt out of your control to a point of discomfort.

You whimpered quietly, tired, overwhelmed, and unaccustomed to him yelling at you. Registering the noise, he was torn out of contemplation and met with your watery eyes and ruddy cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he rushed, concerned at your state as he put the truck in park. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not upset with you, okay? I didn’t mean to yell or scare you. The gas light turned on and we don’t have enough fuel to get us to the next town and check into a motel. I’m just frustrated in general, I’m not mad at you. It didn’t have anything to do with you.”

His large, calloused hands had reached out to you slowly and began rubbing up and down your arms. You sniffled and nodded at him, tears leaking out of your eyes as you snuggled further into his baggy hoodie he had let you wear.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Ari,” you wiped furiously at your eyes, trying to calm down. “I’m sorry for crying I’m just o-overwhelmed with everything and we’re b-both exhausted and-and I—“

”Shhh, it’s okay. I know, it’s okay. Fuck, I know this sucks. I’m just gonna pull in to the shoulder of the highway, just a bit behind those trees. We’ll sleep in the truck.”

You nodded silently and closed your eyes, breathing deeply as his warm palm slid across your thigh. He shifted the truck into drive and expertly pulled behind a few of the larger trees, under the canopy but still in view of the road. You felt him shift again just as quickly into park and remove the keys from the ignition.

“I’m gonna grab a few things from the bed of the truck, okay? Why don’t you hop out with me and take a few breaths of fresh air and then I’ll make up a bed for you in the backseat.”

“I- Ari, what? Where are you going to sleep?”

He chose not to answer, hopping out and walking ‘round back. Choosing to trust him instead of argue this time, you nod and hop out of the passenger’s seat, yawning and stretching your arms above your head while he rummaged through the back. He comes back a few moments later with a rolled-up sleeping bag and thick, flannel blanket.

He gestures you to follow to the drivers’ side of the truck, and you wander after him obediently. You’re so used to being on guard all the time that it almost feels nice to have him be in charge, ordering you around. If you were any more lucid, you probably wouldn’t admit that to yourself, though.

He pulls open the door the backseat and reaches inside, wedging the sleeping bag against the back right window of his pickup. He hops out again and faces you.

“What are you doing?” You question. He only saunters to your shivering form and wraps you in the thick blanket and effortlessly scoops you up bridal style and walks back towards the open door.

Your stomach flips at his ability to manhandle you, but you try to shove the feeling down in an effort to avoid facing the other conflicting emotions you might feel towards Ari.

He gets up into the backseat of the pickup and lays you down so your head falls on top of the sleeping bag. He begins to tuck you in but you turn to stop him.

“What about you?” You ask softly, the concern in your sweet face pulling at his heartstrings.

“I’ll sleep outside. Keep watch. Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Shooting up at his response, his chest tightens, waiting for you to argue back. He liked that about you. You didn’t ever back down from him. You were firey, but sweet and kind all the same. But tonight, he just wanted you to rest and be comfortable. Ari knew how hard you had been pushing yourself and just wanted to grant you some relief.

You took a deep breath and faced him. “Ari, listen to me, please,” you spoke earnestly. It threw the man who had just been waiting for a scolding.

“I just want you to be comfortable, okay? You’re the most selfless man I know. You always try to put me and everyone else before you. I appreciate it so much. More than you know. But please,” you looked at him from under your lashes and reached to caress his cheek. “Don’t go sleep on the hard ground. I want you next to me. To lay with me. Please.”

A stunned look graced his beautiful features. He almost always knew what to say, but hearing you plead for him to lay next to you shocked him. Ari brought his big hand up to yours which still rested on his cheek and grabbed it. You looked directly at each other as he ran his thumb over the back of your hand and leaned down to kiss your palm.

“Do you think there’s room?” He finally said softly, making you snort.

“Just get over here, you big dork,” you said through a smile.

You pulled him flat on his back while you both kicked your shoes off. His head landed against the makeshift pillow while you closed the door. His knees were bent and you smiled awkwardly down at him as you locked the doors.

“There’s a nine millimeter under the-“

“Oh my God,” you laughed, snuggling on top of him and into his warm chest.

“Just in case,” he smiled down at you. You adjusted the blanket so it fit over the both of you and wrapped your arms up around his neck. Ari held your waist with one hand and the back of your head with the other, petting your head and lulling you to sleep.

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier,” he said into the dark, but you shushed him before he could continue.

“It’s ok, we’ll figure everything out in the morning. I just wanted you to hold me.”

[blurredcolour]

If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part One

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: Your assignment as Austin Butler’s bodyguard, masquerading as his personal assistant, begins after your boss’s successful pitch in Palm Springs.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Threatening letters, Discussion of death threats, Firearms, Language, Vaping, Alcohol consumption, Body image issues, Rating – T.  

Author’s note: As stated on the series page, Austin Butler has an unnamed model girlfriend in this series. She is not based on anyone in particular, please do not interpret my descriptions of her and her actions as commentary on any real individuals in Austin Butler’s life.

Word Count: 4428

“…You think you were so very clever, you filthy satanist. That you got away with it. You should have let the dead stay at peace! God knows! God has seen you for what you truly are! A witch! A warlock! A necramanzer raiser of the dead. There is a special spot in hell reserved just for you, Austin Butler, and it is my god given, heavenly ordained duty to see you there right quick...”

You set the photocopied sheets down on your lap, knowing the letter continued on in the same vein for several aggressively written pages. The author had pressed the pen so hard into the paper that the letters made shadow-filled hollows and curled the pages. Hatred had been scribed into the very fibres of the looseleaf before being crammed into an envelope and sent to an actor you, like most of the world, had only a nascent awareness of.

The car took a tight corner, pressing you up against the muscled form of your colleague Marwan, and you quickly straightened with an apology.

“Don’t worry about it, but why are you bothering with those letters again?” He gestured to the black and white photocopies in your lap.

You shook your head with a sigh.

“I... some notion that they might help me to know them if I ever see them out in a crowd somewhere?” Your shoulders rose and fell beneath your simple navy blazer, a knee-length dress with an A-line skirt in a matching shade beneath.

“But we don’t even have the job yet…” Argued Trey from your other side and you huffed out a self-deprecating laugh because it was true, you were absolutely over preparing for a proposal.

“Don’t you dare go jinxing this for me, Treyvon.” The owner and operator of Lane Protective Services, Scott Lane, quickly rejoined from the front seat.

You smirked and elbowed Trey in the ribs for getting him started again. It had been a very long drive from Los Angeles to Palm Springs. While only two hours in time, it had stretched into weeks in experience the longer Scott expounded on the business theories he ascribed to. He had finally trailed off about fifteen minutes ago but was once again feeling the need to mount his soap box.

“Terrible as it is that this is happening, award season is the perfect time for us to work for one of the hottest actors for the year. The public at large will have no idea, but those who know, will know. Free advertising. More work than we can handle, that is what I can only dream of…”

You did your best to tune him out, feigning interest in the threatening letters before you once more. It wasn’t that Scott was a bad person, he was just a little blunt and monetarily focused. The rest of you, Ari the driver included, were in the business to help people. You had each acquired a unique set of skills through your life experiences that lent themselves well to standing between notable people and the threats against them.

You had grown up in a rural area, raised by a hunting family, giving you a familiarity and confidence with firearms. In the same vein, you had also been a highly energetic child and an early encounter with the sport of judo had proven to be a useful outlet for you. You were also born with an innate talent for it and had progressed quickly to the competitive level. There were serious discussions about pursuing Olympic level training, but you had seen what that had cost the professional athletes.

And so, when Scott had appeared at one of your college tournaments with a business card and an interesting proposition you had made the decision to get into personal protection. Lane Protective Services had guided you through the training and licensing processes, and this would, if Mr. Butler’s team accepted the proposal, be your fourth assignment with the company.

To everyone’s relief, Ari pulled into the parking lot of the hotel where the potential protectee was staying for a weekend of events, and where time necessitated Scott would be delivering the proposal. Trey slid out and held the door for you to follow him, and you stepped out into the sun with a grateful stretch. Sharing a backseat with two well-built men for two hours had been snug. You grabbed your bag from the trunk and followed the group up to the room Scott had optimistically rented for two nights.

It was his hope that you and Ari would be staying to immediately begin accompanying and driving Mr. Butler while Marwan and Trey returned to his home to begin setting up the protection detail headquarters and sleeping space in the guesthouse. After one final inspection of the group’s business casual attire, Scott led you back to the elevator and up a few floors to where the suites were located. His knock on the door was answered by a redheaded woman you recognized from the briefing file as Mr. Butler’s Manager and Publicist Kate Rosen.

The group was ushered in, and Scott set up his slide deck on his laptop, giving you the proposal booklets to hand out. You swallowed back your sigh at the fact that he was delegating that to you, the only woman in the group, and you passed one to Kate. You glanced to see if Mr. Butler had joined you just as he stepped over the threshold from the bedroom into the sitting room. You had worked with celebrities before. Breathed the same air as many of them before. But the tall, long-limbed, tanned man in a suit and white button up, with maybe half of the buttons fastened, who appeared before you still selfishly stole all the oxygen from your lungs.

Silently, you waited until he had assumed the empty chair beside Kate before offering the booklet to him and going to stand beside Ari. Ari who had shot you a look with both eyebrows raised that you deliberately ignored. Turning your attention to Scott as he began to speak allowed you to breathe again. You listened patiently to the well rehearsed presentation which centered on you acting as Mr. Butler’s personal assistant for as long as it took the various law enforcement organizations involved in the investigation of the threatening letters to resolve the issue.

“She has a 7th-dan black belt in judo, is fully trained in close quarter fighting as well as tactical firearms, and has a multi-state, non-resident concealed carry permit.” Your eyes drifted to your shoes as Scott reached your list of selling points, finding it all-together awkward to be summed up by your achievements.

“Wait…are you armed right now?” A soft, resonant voice that tasted like honied whiskey interrupted Scott’s litany of your achievements and you raised your head to look at the man who had posed the question.

“Yes Mr. Butler.” You nodded politely.

You watched as he tilted his head, looking over your outfit. “But where?”

“A better question, Austin, would be why are we putting the smallest person in the room beside you the most? I recognize your argument about the optics and definitely want to keep this whole sordid thing out of the gossip columns but, what if the person threatening Austin is huge like one of these men? Are we not looking for overwhelming force?”

“An excellent question Ms. Rosen.” Scott looked to you and nodded. “Full force takedown of Trey please.” There was hint of glee in his voice, and you knew you were a device to provide payback for his earlier doubt of the success of this pitch.

Nodding once, you undid the button on your blazer, walking up to Trey before feinting at him. His response was to lunge forward, and you used his momentum against him, throwing him to the carpet in a perfected judo toss. You pulled your pocket pistol from its holster on your inner thigh, pressing it against the back of his head.

“Oh.” Came a quiet sound of realization from Austin as you answered his earlier question.

“Well then…” Kate cleared her throat and nodded.

You quickly holstered your firearm, having never released the safety, and helped the larger man back to his feet. Straightening your dress, you went to stand beside Ari quietly, once again looking at your shoes.

“Shall I proceed?” Scott asked cheerfully and continued his pitch after a few stunned nods.

He laid out the rest of the plan to have Ari take over as Austin’s driver and for Trey and Marwan to ensure security of the house and be on protective duty overnight. As Scott wrapped up, hands were shaken and your group headed back down to the room to wait, passing what looked like a football team in the hallway. Surely the next pitch. Scott’s idea was unique, you just weren’t sure if it was what they were looking for.

The wait was not long. Forty-five minutes later Scott got the call, confirming the contract. The group headed back up to finalize the paperwork, and you noticed that Austin seemed a lot more relaxed in the presence of Baz Luhrmann and his partner Catherine. It could also have been the glass of whiskey on the rocks gripped loosely in one hand, or the vape pen dangling from the fingers of his other. All they did for you was provide a distraction by pulling your focus to his plush pink lips as they took in the glowing amber liquid or exhaled plumes of sweet smelling vapour.

Hands were shaken again before Kate gave the keys to Austin’s house to Trey and he left along with Scott and Marwan in a rental car to make preparations. Ari went to have the town car the five of you had driven out in cleaned for the award ceremony that night and that left you to build a relationship with protectee. It would be crucial to keep him safe over the next while.

“If you’ll be my bodyguard, I can be your long-lost pal…” Baz sang in your direction, making you smile softly – after all, as far as most people would know you were a personal assistant, and stoicism would not suit that appearance at all.

“I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al!” Austin joined in, making you swallow thickly at the smooth, caramel quality of his voice.

“Baz, pleasure to meet you.” The world-famous directly shook your hand warmly as you introduced yourself in turn.

“No, no” Austin punctuated his statement with playful jabs of his vape pen and you finally became aware of the fact that he had button his shirt up the rest of the way and put on a tie. What a shame.

“I think that’s perfect. Betty. My personal assistant Betty.” He finished with a grin.

“Certainly, Mr. Butler, Betty is an acceptable cover name. Thank you.” You nodded.

“But you gotta call me Al, then.” He playfully pouted a little and you pressed your lips together to prevent too wide of a grin.

“I’m sorry Mr. Butler, I am not able to do that.”

“She can throw me across the room, but she can’t call me Al.” He teased, earning a chorus of laughter from Baz and Catherine.

Kate pulled you aside and took you through his schedule for the next few days – awards ceremony to start in two hours, after party, followed by brunch the next morning and then back to LA for a cocktail event.

“We’ll get you set up with the full thing later but for now, carry mine. Here’s the bag I use. He cannot walk the red carpet with his personal effects, they have a terrible habit of getting lost in all the hugging and interviews. I’ll have you carry them too, unless that interferes?” She looked to you with a tilt of her head, and you shook yours in response.

“Not at all, Ms. Rosen, I just might have to drop the bag during an incident.”

“Right ok…well I’ll pick it up then. That’ll be my thing during an incident.” She cleared her throat. “Scott said you would have a wardrobe? This looks good, blazers, dresses…if we go to the Oscars, they’ll want you in a gown but the rest this or a pant suit will do.” She nodded.

“I will call our wardrobe specialist when we get back in town day after tomorrow.” You nodded and she smiled in relief.

“Good…and you’ll keep him safe?” She looked into your eyes seriously.

“Yes ma’am, that is why I am here.” You replied earnestly.

“Good.” She beamed and bustled off to try and round up the trio who needed to get going.

As they finally made their way towards the door, you strode quickly forward.

“I will have to go first, is that all right?” You asked, quickly wedging yourself between Austin and the door as he reached for the handle.

“Oh uh, yeah, of course…” He nodded, pulling his outstretched hand back to rub the nape of his neck.

You offered a small smile and lowered your voice so that only he could hear.

“We’ll get better at this, Mr. Butler.” You nodded softly, smile widening as his stunning blue eyes met yours and crinkled at the corners.

“Yes, we will, Betty. Yes, we will.” He nodded warmly and gestured for you to proceed.

You nodded warmly and opened the door, doing a quick scan of the hall before stepping out, letting Kate hold the door and bring up the rear. Two town cars waited at the curb, and you led Austin over to where Ari stood holding the door open.

“I’ll sit up front.” You nodded to Kate and Austin, making sure they got into the back before sliding in beside Ari.

It felt somewhat silly to drive just two blocks over to the Palm Springs Convention Centre, but it was the ‘done thing’ and safer regardless. On the ride over, Kate gave you a crash course in how to be an assistant on a red carpet. Climbing out first, you surveyed the area as you moved to open Austin’s door before holding the bag open for him to hand over his personal effects. He smiled and squeezed your shoulder, and you could not help but notice the slight tremor in his hand.

“You’re going to do great, Betty.” He murmured and you nodded softly.

“You, too, Mr. Butler.” You tucked the bag on your arm before leading him up to the entrance to the red carpet and there your paths diverged.

You kept pace with him behind the row of reporters, noting the quickest path to him every few feet you moved towards the door of the building. You were reassured that Kate was permitted to be right up there with him and nodded to her every time her eyes sought yours. You barely knew the pair of them, but you could already tell they had a deep bond.

Inside the lobby, Austin retrieved his wallet, vape pen, and phone from your bag before heading inside to be seated. Kate spoke to one of the organizers who found you a space along the back of the room to stand, with a fairly good view of Austin. It was not ideal, and you would have a conversation with her about future ceremonies, but it would have to do for now.

A few hours in, however, you were starting to regret the heels. You would have a conversation with Shyla, the wardrobe specialist, about flats. Once Austin received his award, Kate came to lead you on a rather circuitous route to the press room where he and Baz were being hailed with camera flashes and questions from the assembled reporters. The two men were so very charismatic that it was tempting to allow them to distract you, but you found the professional fortitude to focus on the room, assess the threat, find the person who could not spell ‘necromancer.’

Once you were satisfied that individual was mostly likely not in that room, you were able to relax into a watchful patience. There was an afterparty before the very tipsy pair of men were herded back to the hotel. You made sure that Austin was safely in his room before retiring to the room you shared with Ari.

You used the steamer from the closet to smooth the wrinkles from your light gray dress and blazer from your bag to be ready for the brunch tomorrow. Locking your gun in the safe, you were nearly asleep by the time Ari returned from securing the car for the night.

Arriving at Austin’s suite at nine am, you sat down with Kate to go over the schedule.

“So, the hardest part for me was the separation during the ceremony. I am aware that it’s impossible for me to get tickets but is the back of the room really the best we have?” You asked carefully.

“Would it reassure you to know how difficult it is to get inside these things? Especially the rest of the ceremonies moving forward…Nonetheless I will see what I can do. Maybe you can have my spot for the ceremonies as long as I can remain nearby for the press moments. Stay tuned, ok?” She offered and you nodded.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“Oh no, call the authorities, what are you two conspiring about…” Austin rasped from the doorway behind you, making both of you turn to look at him.

You swallowed roughly as your eyes landed on his loosely tied robe, barely concealing his tanned skin with only his boxers underneath. The morning light glinted off the chain around his neck, highlighting the soft, golden dusting of hair across his chest.

“Good morning, Mr. Butler.” You said quickly and looked back to the schedule. “Thank you very much Ms. Rosen.”

“Austin, get dressed before you kill Betty. Brunch starts at eleven and I’m assuming you want some coffee?” Kate stood as Austin nodded. “Betty what’s your order, I’m going to Starbucks for the good stuff. We’ll send you in the future, I suppose, but you should get to know that boy…maybe you can teach him how to button his shirt.” She smirked and you bit your lip to hide your delight at her jibes.

Once she was armed with a full Starbucks order, Kate headed out, the door clicking softly in the silence in her wake. You turned back to the schedule in front of you, drafting an email in your phone for items you would need from both Shyla and IT. You looked up as the door to the bedroom opened again to reveal a fully dressed Austin.

“Better?” He drawled with a smirk, and you let out a short huff of laughter despite yourself.

“Yes, Mr. Butler.” You grinned and watched as he settled into a wide-legged seat on the couch.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, his long fingers stroking along his jaw, momentarily distracting you from his words before you managed a nod.

“Of course.” You replied as you moved to sit on the plush chair to his left, tucking the skirt of your dress underneath your butt before sinking into the cushion.

“Why does this person wanna kill me?” The voice asking that question seemed to come from someone much smaller and much younger than the man sitting beside you and you felt your throat clench.

“Well, I…I won’t claim to have any expertise in behavioural science, but it very much seems like an unstable person who has decided to fixate on your achievement.” You replied carefully, smoothing and pulling at the hem of your dress.

He exhaled slowly in response.

“They think I…summoned him from the dead or something?” He shook his head. “Makes me sad…”

“As far as I understand the police are making headway in the investigation. Hopefully, this won’t go on much longer and everyone can move on with their lives. And they can get the help they need.”

He nodded thoughtfully, those elegant digits of his moving to trace the contours of his lips.

“So where are you from, Betty? I want to get to know you…”

You smiled softly and happily indulged him, answering questions about yourself and posing them back to him in return. You were so ensconced in the conversation, that Kate’s return startled you a little. You accepted your beverage gratefully and retreated to the table as she moved in to go over his schedule with him for the day, which ended with the W Magazine & Louis Vuitton awards season dinner.

“So, we need to be in the car driving back to you house by three, ideally, to give you time to get changed and get you and your girlfriend loaded into the car and onto the next event.”

“Understood.” He acquiesced with an innocent smile, and you had a sneaking suspicion that time was an ongoing issue.

Over the course of the brunch, it became quite apparent why as, though gentle and soft spoken, Austin was also kind and affectionate and seemed to thoroughly enjoy connecting with people. He was also very much in demand at the event, with so much buzz around him that people were lingering in informal queues to get a chance to just shake his hand and congratulate him on the movie. You could only surmise it made the threats even more bitter as they tainted such remarkable success.

The four of you, with Ari behind the wheel, were not driving back to Los Angeles until four-thirty and Austin was frantically texting his girlfriend with apologies while Kate was on the phone making sure everything was set for an upcoming appearance on Jimmy Kimmel. You took the opportunity to have a small nap in the front seat, confident that Ari had the situation under control and equally confident that it would be a long night.

As Austin dashed inside to get ready, Kate grabbed her car and headed home, and you went to deposit your bags in the guest house you’d be sharing in rotation with Marwan, Trey, and Ari. There was a living room with pullout couch, small kitchen, bedroom, and a simple bathroom. You found a place to hang your clothes and stash the rest of your things, freshening up and eating something quickly before you and Ari headed out to wait for the couple.

And what a couple they made. Both equally tall and thin, strikingly beautiful, youthful…you swallowed the bitter taste of envy that flooded your mouth and smiled warmly to Austin’s girlfriend as he brought her over to make introductions.

“Very nice to meet you, miss.” You nodded professionally as you shook her delicate hand and tried not to take it personally as she barely looked at you before hugging Austin’s arm.

The lithe, long lines of her arm only served to make you acutely aware of every bulge and ripple of muscle beneath your clothes. With mere proximity she reignited every insecurity you had ever felt about the body that diligent judo practice had built. You were Hulk Hogan in a dress.

“We gotta get going, babe.” She reminded him and Ari moved forward quickly to open the car door for them to climb in, blessedly yanking you out of your descent into middle school angst.

During the drive to the dinner party, you respectfully kept your eyes forward and your ears closed to the hushed, intimate tones of conversation in the backseat, punctuated by husky laughter or feminine giggles. Accidental, unintentional glances in the rear-view mirror told you they were huddled together, heads bowed close, hands clasped. A stunning pair of human specimens that, for the first time in your career, left you feeling utterly out of place.

You were grateful for the quiet intimacy of the dinner, the bench at the back of the dinning room for you to wait, the low security risk. You found excuses to go over and check on Austin, but otherwise scanned the room and kept an eye on things from a distance.

Not only were they a beautiful couple but they were a favourite as well, with many of the other guests stopping by or rotating through the chairs near them once the formality of the courses broke and mingling resumed. A glance at your watch told you it was well past midnight, and you praised the foresight that had led to your nap in the car. Nevertheless, relief flooded you as Austin sauntered over to let you know you’d be heading home as soon as his girlfriend returned from the washroom.

“You must be starving!” He exclaimed softly, suddenly casting his eyes around for something to satiate hunger he thought he perceived in you.

“It’s all right Mr. Butler, I had something to eat while you were getting ready.” You reassured him and found yourself briefly blinded by the brilliant intensity of his smile loosened by alcohol.

“Oh good, can’t have you dying on the first day, Betty.” He smirked and elbowed you in the arm playfully, causing a chuckle to tumble from your lips.

“Second, technically…” You smirked but trailed off as you watched his statuesque girlfriend, with her rich hair and striking eyes reclaim control of his arm.

You saw a veil fall over his eyes…creating an invisible barrier between you as she drew his focus like a high-powered magnet. As though you simply ceased to exist in that moment. In her presence. Turning sharply on your heel, you began to weave your way out of the dining room, only glancing back to be sure they were keeping pace.

The consummate professional, you saw them safely to the car and into the house before going to take a shower and sitting on the small patio outside the guest house to eat some pizza the night shift had bought. The rustle of the Santa Ana winds through the palm fronds above worked its magic, capturing the tension in your body and carrying it away towards the Pacific Ocean. At last, you felt ready to retire for the night.

Standing to make your way inside for some proper sleep, a very distinct and enthusiastic female cry reached your ears from the main house. It only served to hasten your steps and you sent an earnest prayer out into the universe that the unstable letter writer was found sooner rather than later. Because this was going to be a very trying assignment.

Read Part Two

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

[steviebbboi]

Okay so very dumb question regarding your celebration event prompt list but what makes a breeding kink non-pregnancy version? 😅😂 Is one about being into pregnant bodies and the other about just enjoying the grand finale of intercourse or is the division something else? Every time I have written the kink it's been about "let's get you pregnant" and I'm not sure which side of the fence that falls. Thanks in advance. ✨

Haha nooo, not a stupid question at all! I think breeding kink, weirdly, can be a spectrum! So, I think it can be about Character A being into pregnant bodies/imagery of one, but I do think other end of spectrum also looks like enjoying the finish line lol. Technical stand point:

I’d say that a breeding kink (non-pregnancy version) could look like character A using dialogue alluding to character B getting pregnant, even though Character B is actually on preventative meds that may stop them from actually getting pregnant— more like the excitement or thrill that it could be a possibility. I think it also is tied into when character A would finish inside of Character B (creampie lol). And character A would likely act/say things that allude to pregnancy. The fic though wouldn't end with Character B actually being pregnant/getting pregnant, etc. More like a posessive!BB trope?

@stargazingfangirl18 has a great Steve fic that depicts breeding kink really well from that first start of the spectrum that I described earlier/Steve fantasizing about a pregnant body.

I’d probably also plug my Good For It fic that has Ari in it. It's a longer fic so I'll just paste an excerpt of a smut scene that I wrote that I feel describes breeding kink in the latter spectrum, where its not explicitly said and is just written in a very very subtle way. There are certain pieces of dialogue that I think contribute to the subtlety of it. I'll put the scene under the cut!

You felt like you could barely breathe as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was sinking in so deep and you were gasping for air at all of the sensations your body was experiencing. Besides your mutual groans and moans, the sounds of your union could be heard as you only became wetter at the stimulation. 

“I’m so full, so full…so big, Ari.” You mumbled out, your eyes crossed in ecstasy. Ari let out a condescending laugh, “Aww, look at you. Can’t even speak, can you? Just continue taking my cock, honey, you’re so good at it.” 

Ari leaned up and thrust out of you, despite your desperate whining, only to turn you on your stomach. You feel him kneel outside of your thighs that were clenched together, and only had time to hold onto the pillow in front of you as he thrust back in. You gasped out a high pitched moan and small, repeated sounds of pleasure came out of your mouth as you felt his long shaft pit up against your g-spot with every thrust. 

“There she is, yesss. You’re so fucking tight when I take you like this, baby. Your pussy is gripping me like a vice, goddamn.” Ari groaned louder as your warmth enveloped him. Tension started brewing again deep inside your belly as he thrust faster into you. 

Leaning down, his chest was damp and his hair grazed your smooth skin as it met your back. He lifted you slightly to wrap his right hand around your neck and squeezed. He whispered harshly in your ear, “Don’t ever forget that you’re mine. This pussy is mine, your body. I’ll always protect you, you hear me, love?”

Gripping onto the pillow in front of you fiercely, you couldn’t contain your moans that were now resonating in the room. His possessiveness, his fingers gripping your throat so protectively, and the passion in his words made you feel so hot, you felt that coil in your belly about to snap. The sensation pulling at that area inside of you that felt so full and relieving when released. “Ari, yes, I’m yours! You’re gonna make me cum again!” 

“Yeah, I am, love. Soak my cock, make a mess with my pussy.” He released the grip on your throat to lean back up and take your hips in his hands for full control. His thrusts were consistently hard and deep. It twisted that coil inside of you so delightfully that you finally snapped and cried out your orgasm. 

Ari’s thrusts became sloppier as your juices squirted around his cock. He bellowed out a deep and low groan from his strained throat and followed you as you rode out your orgasm against him. You moan at the feeling of his dick throbbing inside of you and feeling him cum so deep in your pussy made you feel like you were being claimed. His dick was still buried deep inside as you gyrated against him. At the overstimulation, Ari thrust out of you with a sharp hiss and a mixture of your cum with his started to spurt out of you. 

“Fuck, so pretty, baby. Here, let me help you.” He breathed out heavily while his hand left your hip to use his finger to push your combined cum back into your quivering pussy. You moaned out at the sensation of his thick finger thrusting his warm spend further into you and mewled in content. 

Hoping this answers your question and makes sense! No worries if not, I could PM you! And apologies for this being so long - I think I got caugt up lol, sorry!

[thezombieprostitute]

Tutoring

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty​ this is my fourth entry for the Bingo card combining “college AU” and “bodyguard AU” (though I’m kinda cheesing it on the “college AU” part). Reader has no physical descriptions.

Warnings: School stress, implied kidnapping. This story is about 1700 words!

“Hi there, you must be Peter. I’m Y/N and I’ll be your literature tutor.” You shake the hand of the young man in front of you. He seemed so small but that was likely a combination of his seemingly shy nature and his giant bodyguard next to him. You’d been warned before agreeing to tutor Peter that his father, Tony Stark, was quite protective of him and he’d have a security detail. Your only requirement was that the bodyguard did not interfere with the tutoring. 

“Hi Y/N,” Peter shook your hand back, “thanks, again, for agreeing to this. I really have no idea what I’m doing with literature. I’m more of a math and science brain. Oh, and this is my bodyguard for the day, Ari.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Ari,” you extend your hand. He quickly shakes your hand, completely covering yours with his, before getting back into lookout mode. “And I understand what you mean, Peter. Today is going to be a sort of Session Zero, where we talk out your assignments, possible ideas and goals, and make sure we can actually work well together. Sound good?”

He nods ascent and you guide him to the library’s study room you had reserved. You’re glad he agreed to meet at your university’s library, you had some friends here who would look out for you and knew your signals if you needed a call for help. Tutoring was great practice for your education degree and the money was good enough but you knew to make safety a priority. 

The two of you get settled in the study room while Ari sets himself up a chair that puts himself between Peter and the door. He’s so massive you’re glad you reserved one of the larger study rooms. You’re definitely not worried about him interrupting the tutoring; he’s very much all business.

Your session with Peter goes very well. You work out a way to get his math and science interests integrated into the literature project with Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. 

“Why that one,” Peter asks.

“Fun fact, Lewis Carroll’s writings are still studied by Logicians. It’s not just word play or fantastical things in this book, there’s also plays on logic and mathematical references.”

Peter’s eyes go wide, “you’re kidding me!”

“Nope, and I think that you can do this project, literature analysis, whatever you want to call it, by looking at Alice’s Adventures through the lens of a mathematician or logician. Just please, please, please make sure to talk to your teacher about this. I’d hate for us to get almost done with everything only for them to say, ‘that’s not what I wanted.’ Okay?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Okay, I’ll make sure to ask her at class on Monday.”

“And if she doesn’t give you a response right away, please do email her. Get some kind of paper trail going so she can’t say you never got hold of her. I’ve had bad experiences like this before.”

“Sure thing!” 

“I think this was a very successful Session Zero, Peter. What say we do this again next week?” Peter nods enthusiastically as you both pack up your things. “And thank you, Ari. I’ve had people promise to not interfere with sessions only to end up being nothing but an annoyance.” He nods and gives you a smile so charming you feel yourself almost melting.

Next week’s session you meet up with Peter at the study room but he’s not with Ari. 

“Hi Y/N! This is another of my bodyguards, James,” Peter is quick to explain. “Security detail gets switched up every now and then.”

You stand up and go to shake James’s hand, “well, as long as you also agree to not interrupt today’s session, we should get along just fine.” James nods his head and returns your handshake before moving between Peter and the door. He’s big and tall like Ari, but with short hair and light stubble where Ari had longer hair and full beard. James doesn’t take a seat and just stands there, seemingly not looking at anything. You look back and forth between him and Peter with a confused expression and Peter whispers, “he’s kinda hardcore on protection. Doesn’t believe in sitting while on duty.” You nod as though you understand but you can’t imagine opting to stand all day when chairs are available.

“Well, let’s get to it then,” you smile at Peter. “Did you get approval from your teacher on this?”

“She said she’d have to get back to me so I followed your advice and emailed her. Just to be safe.”

“Good call. So, where would you like to begin today’s session?”

After some time of discussing various passages that Peter had problems with he sighed and said, “I sometimes feel like I’m just not meant to understand literature. I tried reading things like The Hobbit, a kids book, and I couldn’t even get into it.”

“Neither could I the first several times I tried to read it,” you confessed. Out of the corner of your eye you could swear you saw James fidget. “And it took me a really long time to figure out why. It was Tolkien’s style of world-building.”

“Yeah,” Peter began, “like taking five pages to describe a door, right?”

“Actually, no.” Again, your attention is drawn to movement from where James is standing, but you continue with Peter. “You see, part of Tolkien’s world-building is including names, poems and songs ‘of old’ that are meant to tell the reader ‘this is an old world with lore and history.’ But for readers like me, and possibly you, it felt like I was starting a series with the fourth book and I had missed out on some required reading. I felt as though the names were people I was supposed to already know. It wasn’t until I read The Silmarillion that things really started to fall in place for me.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Peter commented. “A lot of times literature feels like I’m missing pieces of the puzzle for the story to make sense, for me to see why it’s such a ‘classic’ or why it’s important.”

“Something to consider, if you’re up for it, is learning about the time period the book was written in. Not when it’s set in, because those aren’t always the same, but when it was written. It can really help explain a lot of those ‘this doesn’t make sense’ details.”

“It still feels like a lot of work to just understand a book,” Peter complains.

“But you’re not just understanding a book,” you reply. “You’re understanding a culture.”

Your discussion went on like that for the rest of the session, with no further movement from James’s section of the room.

The next session Peter showed up with yet another bodyguard. He looked apologetic when he told you, “this is Lloyd. He’s today’s security detail.”

“Nice to meet you, Cupcake,” Lloyd pulled you closer to him as he shook your hand. “I’ve heard nothing but good things from the other guys.” 

You try to back away from him. Between his handlebar mustache, aggressive body language and overpriced cologne, you knew he wasn’t going to make today’s session easy.

“Hello Lloyd,” you reply curtly. “Just to make sure, you are aware of the conditions for allowing you to sit with us for the tutoring session, yes?”

“I’m aware,” his smile grows, showing his teeth, “and I promise to try to abide. But it’s not my fault if I end up finding you distracting.” You give him an incredulous look and respond, “yes, yes it is. But if you become too much of a distraction you will have to stand outside the room or you’ll have to explain to Mr. Stark why today’s session got canceled.”

“Ooo, so bossy,” he leered. “I like ‘em bossy.” You roll your eyes and try to get the session started. 

It isn’t long until the small study room is full of Lloyd’s cologne and giving you a headache. Your mood is worsened by Lloyd’s constant fidgeting and frequent derisive noises and comments. You’re very tempted to cancel the session but Peter’s such a  good student and you want to do right by him. 

“So have you heard back from your teacher about this?”

“Yeah, finally got an email response saying she’s going to have to see a rough draft before she’ll approve.”

“A full rough draft? Not an outline or summary,” you ask. “That’s a lot of work and a ton of time you’ll never get back if she says no to this.”

“You could just bitch slap her into accepting,” Lloyd interjects. “Bitch slapping bitches always works.” Peter winces at his words and that’s the last straw for you. 

“So you’re saying it would work on you?” You do not hold back on your glare and the comment seems to catch him off guard.

“I’m no bitch.”

“Then why are you acting like a needy bitch boy who’s not getting enough attention? You were allowed here with the understanding that you do not interfere. And yet you’ve done nothing but annoy, distract and deride. So either you sit still, shut up and do your job or I slap you and see if your bitch slap theory holds.”

Both men look taken aback at your anger but you don’t stop staring down Lloyd until looks away with a “yes, ma’am.” You turn back to Peter, smile, and continue to talk out how to handle his teacher while working on the project. 

As the weeks go by you’re grateful to never see Lloyd again. Peter alternates between Ari and James for the rest of your sessions and, when it’s finally time, you’re almost sad to say goodbye to the kid. Ari even gives you a giant smile and says he owes you one. Apparently your session with Lloyd was the last straw and they were finally able to get him fired. You were happy to help and only one bad session out of a semester’s worth of tutoring was your best record thus far. Now you could focus on your own finals, you were just a couple weeks away from getting your degree and wanted to finish strong. 

You were so caught up in finals stress that you didn’t notice someone following you until you were grabbed with a rag pressed into your face. The smell is strong and you find yourself passing out quickly. The last thing your brain registers is the too strong stench of overpriced cologne and someone whispering the word, “bitch” into your ear.

[ironwoman359]

A Thief's Gamble - Ch. 10

...Has a Silver Lining

Prev: Ch.9 Every Cloud... || Next: Ch.11 Misdirection Fic Masterpost

Fic Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Chapter Summary: Brynjolf finds Ariene in Falkreath, and after helping her out of a jam, the two prepare to storm the bandit camp at Pinewatch to retrieve a stolen silver mold for their client Endon.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence.

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Word Count: 4,203

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

— — — 

Brynjolf swore he could feel time slowing as all eyes in the inn landed on him. The few other patrons didn’t bother to hide their stares as they watched the growing drama unfold, and the Legate he’d confronted was glaring at him with enough ferocity to kill a sabre cat. Even Ariene was staring, though she let her shock show on her face for only a moment.

“Now brother,”  she said loudly, catching on to Brynjolf’s ruse immediately. “There's no need to cause a scene. Legate Skulnar and I were simply having a…disagreement.” 

Legate Skulnar looked back and forth between the two, skepticism written plainly on his face. 

“Brother?” he asked, shrugging Brynjolf’s hand off his shoulder with a snarl. “I don’t see much resemblance between the two of you, kinsman.” 

Brynjolf silently cursed the fact that Ariene’s features were so distinctly imperial before giving the Legate his best eyebrow raise. 

“Half-brother, if you must know. My father took an imperial wife after my own ma died; not that it’s any of your business, sir.” 

Legate Skulnar didn’t look convinced, and Ariene stepped forward deftly, standing so that she was next to Brynjolf and no longer backed into the corner. 

“I tried to explain to the Legate that I was here on business, but he wouldn’t listen,” she said. “Insisted I was some kind of runaway from the legion. As if ‘Ariene’ isn’t one of the most common Imperial names of the last decade.” 

Brynjolf had no idea if that was true or not, but he supposed that if he didn’t, then Skulnar might not either. 

“The legion?” he repeated with a laugh. “Ari’s ma is in the timber business. Why else would we come to this little splinter of a city? Certainly not for the hospitality.” 

The Legate was still clearly suspicious, but Brynjolf saw the moment that he realized that his catch had slipped away. The gaze of the other patrons had turned from Brynjolf to Skulnar, and while he could arrest the both of them right there, it definitely wouldn’t do him any favors with the locals. Falkreath’s allegiances did technically lie with the empire, but this was due more to the Jarl’s personal greed than the consensus of the citizens, and Brynjolf would be willing to bet that keeping up a good image for the Legion was one of the Legate’s top priorities. 

“Fine,” Skulnar eventually growled. “You can move along. But I’ll be keeping my eye on the two of you while you’re here, is that understood?” 

“Yes sir,” Brynjolf drawled, his tone anything but respectful, and Skulnar glared.

“Stop antagonizing him, brother,” Ariene said, taking his arm. “Come, let me tell you about the spot I found in the woods. It’s a perfect place to plant our next business venture.” 

She led him to a tiny room off the side of the bar, motioning for him to shut the door behind him. As soon as they were alone, she dropped his arm and put her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Brother?” she repeated, and Brynjolf shrugged. 

“I wanted to distract him from who you are. Passing you off as a Skyrim native seemed the best bet, considering the circumstances.”  

“I suppose since it worked, I can’t complain too much…” Ariene trailed off, her expression changing as she gave Brynjolf a once over. “By the Nine, Bryn, what happened to you?” 

It was then that Brynjolf remembered that his clothes were still torn and muddy, that his hair was a stringy mess falling into his eyes, and that there were still traces of the makeshift blood on his face. He'd probably looked like a madman, stalking up to a Legate and challenging him right there in the inn.  

“Oh, right,” he said, wiping a few flecks of the red-stained mud from his cheek. “This is nothing, I just had to pull one over on some bandits camping out in Helgen. No actual fighting was done.” 

Ariene sighed, then sat on the edge of her bed, gesturing for Brynjolf to sit in the room’s only chair. 

Brynjolf sat, frowning at her. 

“Are you alright, lass?” 

“I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “It’s just been a long few weeks. Gulum-Ei is a stubborn son of a bitch, and traveling in the Reach right now is a nightmare. Those ‘Forsworn’ are around just about every other hill. Then there’s this nonsense with the Markarth job, and to top it all off that Legate out there’s been on my ass for the past three days. I was certain I was going to have to have a mysterious ‘accident’ in the woods and disappear to get away from him.” 

“Now that sounds time consuming,” Brynjolf said. “I’m glad I showed up when I did so we could avoid it.” His tone was light, playful, but Ariene wouldn’t look directly at him as she spoke. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she admitted in a quiet voice. “I worried that the message would arrive too late, or that you wouldn’t understand the code, or…” 

She trailed off, but Brynjolf heard the unspoken doubt loud and clear. 

I wasn’t sure you’d even come.

“One of the Guild’s best and brightest calls in for backup?” She looked up at him and he smiled at her, causing a faint blush to rise to her cheeks. “Of course I came, lass. And your code was perfect. The little clue about the First of Frostfall was a neat trick.”  

“Thank you,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have bothered to encode it at all, but Skulnar was already suspicious of me, and I was worried he’d confiscate the letter from the courier.” 

“I wouldn’t have put it past him,” Brynjolf agreed. “But you didn’t even mention him in your note. Which means that what you need help with has nothing to do with the Legion, and everything to do with bandits and this silversmith job. Tell me about it.” 

Ariene nodded, and just like that, she was all business, every trace of worry and doubt vanishing from her in an instant. 

“I went to Markarth to meet the client, Endon. I was expecting some kind of job targeting a competitor of his, or perhaps a robbery to bring some extra cash flow to his business. But no.” She shook her head ruefully. “He wants us to raid a bandit camp to retrieve a stolen item.” 

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. 

“Isn’t that a job for the Jarl’s guards? Or even the Companions?” he asked, and Ariene sighed. 

“Apparently, all official channels are too busy with the civil war and Forsworn attacks. I guess he heard that the Guild was returning to power and figured ‘who better to steal back something that was stolen?’ Their camp is at the base of the mountain range just northeast of here.”

“You’ve staked the place out?” Brynjolf asked, and Ariene nodded. 

“This is the problem: it’s not a normal camp. There’s this old woodcutter’s hut in the forest, and I’m convinced it’s bigger than it seems. I’ve seen more men go in and out over the past three days than should be able to fit comfortably inside.”

“Maybe it’s connected to some kind of cave system,” Brynjolf mused, and Ariene nodded again.

“My thoughts exactly. But if that’s true, I have no way of knowing how many opponents I’m dealing with until I’m already inside. That’s why I wrote to you for help…though I was prepared to attempt the raid alone if I got no response in a few days.”

“Well, I’m glad I made it before you tried something like that,” Brynjolf repeated. “So when do you want to make your move? Tonight?” 

“Tomorrow,” Ariene replied. “I think we both could use some sleep. Besides, the best time to hit them would probably be midmorning. From what I can tell, that’s when most of them come out to do…whatever it is bandits do during the day. Pillage, and so on.” 

“Sounds like a plan, lass,” Brynjolf said, getting to his feet. “Now, what kind of drink do they serve here?” 

They ordered a small meal, and since talking about business in the open areas of the inn seemed a foolhardy choice, they spent the rest of the evening having a mostly improvised conversation about their imaginary family members back in Riften.

As they talked, Brynjolf noticed the tension slowly bleeding out of Ariene’s shoulders, and he found himself relaxing as well, for what he realized was the first time in weeks. It was fun, sitting by the fire with a drink in his hand and making up stories about how Cousin Joric had fallen into the breeding pool at the Riften Fishery and thus was sentenced to a week of floor scrubbing. Being on a con again– even one as simple as pretending to be a family of timber workers– was energizing, and he couldn’t help but smile as he and Ariene shared a block of cheese and traded tales. 

Despite his long day, Brynjolf found sleep that night to be elusive. Lying in one of the inn’s creaky beds and staring at the ceiling, he could feel the anticipation rising in his chest. Tomorrow, they would head into the woods to face down an entire encampment of bloodthirsty bandits. And this time, he probably couldn’t trick his way out of dealing with them.  

— — — 

The next morning, Ariene led the way through the woods to where the bandits had made their base. Brynjolf realized he’d never actually seen her out in the field besides that first job in the marketplace, and was impressed by how silently the lass moved through the dense underbrush of the old forests of Falkreath. He typically associated thieves with back alleys and city streets, but he supposed that Ariene’s history as a mercenary in her father’s crew had garnered her plenty of experience with the wilderness. 

It didn’t take them long to reach what on the outside looked like a perfectly convincing woodcutter’s hut, and they crouched down in the bushes across the road to watch the door. Sure enough, clusters of bandits began exiting the hut, a few at a time spread out across the morning. About half of those who left headed up the road to the east, while the other half took the road west, and Brynjolf could picture them meeting up with their fellows and staging traps for unsuspecting travelers. 

“Alright, lass,” he said in a low voice once it had been a good half hour since anyone left the cabin. “How do you want to handle this?” 

“If there really is a secret passageway, then they’ve probably left at least one man left inside to guard it,” Ariene replied. “It’s what I’d do. I say we go in through the front here, take the guard by surprise if we can, and figure out our next move from there.” 

Brynjolf nodded, and once they were sure there was no one else on the road to see them, they both rose to their feet and made their way to the cottage door. Ariene’s picks made quick work of the lock, and she looked up at Brynjolf, a question in her eyes. 

He nodded to her and she pulled the door open by a hair, allowing Brynjolf to peer inside. He quickly scanned the interior, noting a cluttered workbench, a low burning fire in the hearth, and a wooden railing in the corner that indicated stairs.

“You were right, lass,” he whispered. “There is a basement. Up top here looks all clear for now.” 

“Take point,” she whispered back, sliding her picks into her pocket and pulling her bow off her shoulder. “I’ll cover you from behind.”

Brynjolf nodded, and the two of them slipped into the house. They approached the stairs, and Brynjolf crouched low, peering down into the basement through the gap in the floor. 

There was a single man sitting at a table with his back to them, an open bottle of wine in his hand. Brynjolf slowly descended the stairs, wincing as the wood boards creaked beneath his feet, but the man did not stir. As soon as his feet were on the stone floor, Ariene called out in a clear voice: 

“If you scream, you’re a dead man.” 

The bandit whirled around, his hand moving to an axe he wore on his belt, but he froze when he saw the tip of Ariene’s arrow pointed at his heart. 

“What do you want?” he asked, and Brynjolf smiled. 

“Just to have a chat, lad, maybe a look around. You see, we’re looking for some particular merchandise.” 

“Endon’s stolen mold,” Ariene added. 

“Endon's mold?” the man repeated. He offered a nervous smile. “I'm afraid you have the wrong place, my friends. You'll find no silversmiths here. I assure you, I have nothing of value. I'm nothing but a poor woodcutter just trying to make ends meet." 

Brynjolf glanced at Ariene, who had a triumphant glint in her eye. 

“I never said it was a silver mold,” she said, and the man licked his lips. 

“Oh? Well uh, Endon is a silversmith in Markarth, so I just assumed…”

“Look, lad,” Brynjolf interrupted. “We’d like to avoid a fight just as much as you would. If you just tell us where the mold is, we can all be on our way, no harm no foul.” 

The man bit his lip, eyes flitting between the two thieves. 

“We can make it worth your while,” Ariene said, and Brynjolf nodded, pulling out his coin pouch and giving it a shake. 

“I see…” the man said slowly, his gaze fixed on the purse. After a moment, he nodded to himself and got to his feet.

“Well, I can't say exactly where the mold is, but something does spring to mind,” he said casually. “It seems there's this strange button on the wall opposite the fireplace in my house. Always wondered what it was for.” 

Brynjolf glanced at Ariene, and she gave a single nod of her head. 

“Fair enough,” Brynjolf said, and tossed the coin to the bandit. The man caught it deftly and nodded to them.

“Thank you kindly, friends. Think I'm going to head out now. Take a long vacation from woodcutting, you know? Good luck.” 

He edged past Ariene, who kept her bow trained on him as he climbed back up the stairs, only lowering it once he had left the cottage and closed the door behind him. 

“Well, so much for finding it in the house,” she muttered when the man was gone. 

“When has the Guild ever had that kind of luck?” Brynjolf pointed out, and Ariene snorted. 

“Good point. After you, then,” she added, gesturing towards the button. 

Brynjolf pressed it, and the bookshelf against the wall swung open, revealing a tunnel leading down deeper into the earth.

“So there is a cave back here. I wonder if they dug this out, or if it was here naturally?” Ariene mused as they made their way down the tunnel. 

Brynjolf opened his mouth to answer, but stopped when he rounded a corner and found the end of the tunnel opening out into a large open room. 

“I don’t know, but that doesn’t look like any rock formations I’ve ever seen,” he said, pointing at a scaffolding rig that blocked their view of most of the cave. 

“Get down,” Ariene whispered, and Brynjolf immediately dropped to one knee, his hand moving to his daggers. 

A second later, he saw the bandit. 

Through gaps in the old wooden boards, he could just make out a rope bridge connecting the outcropping of rock they were standing on to another part of the cave system, and standing on that bridge with his arms folded was a burly looking man in iron armor. He was positioned so that he’d see whoever came walking out of the tunnel, but he hadn’t startled at the sight of them, so it was just possible that they were hidden from his sight where they were crouching. 

“Let me by,” Ariene breathed, and Brynjolf nodded, letting the lass slip past him. 

She crept forward into the cave, angling herself so that the makeshift wooden wall was between her and the bandit’s line of sight. She scanned the room, a frown creasing her forehead as she did so. Brynjolf raised an eyebrow as she made her way back to him, and she shot him a grim look. 

“There’s no way around him that he wouldn’t notice and raise the alarm,” she murmured. “But I think he’s the only one on guard in this chamber.” 

“Your call, lass,” Brynjolf whispered. “However you want to handle this, I’ll follow your lead.” 

Ariene didn’t say anything for several seconds, and Brynjolf almost wondered if she hadn’t heard him, but then she met his eyes, her gaze hard. 

“I’d draw your weapon if I were you.” 

Brynjolf immediately pulled his daggers free from their sheaths as Ariene turned back towards the bandit. She lifted her bow and pulled back the string, aiming her shot through a gap in the scaffolding. She took a breath in, and on the exhale, let the arrow fly. 

The arrow struck the bandit square in the neck, and he fell back immediately with a gurgled cry. Ariene started to straighten, then cursed and ducked back down, drawing another arrow as a confused call echoed in the room. 

“Rogjar? Are you alright?”

A moment later, a bandit rounded the corner, and on seeing the body on the bridge, he gave a cry of alarm, drawing a sword from his belt. Another bandit joined him in an instant, his own weapon drawn and his eyes hard. They both ignored their fallen comrade and headed across the bridge, right for where Brynjolf and Ariene were hiding. 

Ariene let her second arrow loose, and it caught the bigger of the two bandits on the shoulder. The man staggered, then grunted and shifted his grip on his warhammer. Brynjolf had just enough time to think “Well that’s not a good sign” before a third arrow shot by and caught the first bandit in the thigh, causing him to stumble forward. 

Ariene shot one more arrow, but it missed both targets, and then the larger of the two bandits was on the pair of them, swinging his warhammer towards their heads. Brynjolf rolled forward, slashing out at the man’s legs with his daggers. The thug gave a cry of both pain and surprise as the blades sliced into his flesh; no doubt he was used to people trying to move away from his wide, slow swings, not towards them.  

Brynjolf spun quickly, jabbing one dagger into the back of the man’s neck before he could turn around. The bandit fell forward, and Brynjolf slammed the hilt of his dagger on the top of the man’s skull, just to be safe. He turned back towards the other bandit, just in time to see Ariene strike him across the face with the arm of her bow, knocking him to the ground. She drew her own blade and followed him down, pressing her knee against his chest and slitting his throat before he had a chance to recover. 

She looked up at him, panting slightly, and he nodded to her.

“Alright, Ariene?”

“Fine,” she said, getting to her feet with a grunt and wiping the blood off her blade. “You?” 

Brynjolf turned back to his fallen foe and pulled his dagger out of the man’s back. 

“Right as rain, lass.” 

The two spared a few minutes to roll the bandits’ bodies off the bridge and hide them among the boxes and crates in the pit below. The cavern was far too vast for the bandits to have dug themselves, and Brynjolf spotted a few old burial urns and nordic weapons shoved up against the wall in one corner. 

“Looks like our marks here found an ancient burial ground and converted it into a hideout,” he said conversationally as he rolled one of the corpses behind a pillar and out of sight. 

“And they’re making good use of it, too,” Ariene said. “Look at this.” 

Brynjolf looked to where she was pointing. Crates and barrels full of produce, cured meats, clothing, and other simple goods were stacked along one wall. Beside the crates were entire wagons in various stages of being broken apart, and there, in a shallow pit just off to the side, was a pile of khajiit corpses. 

“They’re not just hassling random travelers or raiding villages,” Ariene said quietly. “They’re attacking whole trade caravans. My guess is they overtake them on the road and force them to unload their goods in here, then kill them so they can’t report on their location.” 

Brynjolf shook his head at the brutality. 

“It’s a damn shame. And Khajiit traders are some of our best customers.” He paused, a fraction of a conversation floating back to his mind. “Tonilia mentioned that there’d been delays along the southwest routes.”

“Looks like we found the culprits,” Ariene said as she stashed a bandit’s body behind one of the carts. “Or some of them, anyway.” 

“I’m no lover of law and order, but I’m amazed that the hold guards were too busy to deal with this,” Brynjolf mused. “I understand not wanting to track down one man’s missing shipment, but these are entire caravans disappearing.”

“Well, I’m sure if they were nord caravans then the local authorities could find it in themselves to spare the resources,” Ariene said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. Brynjolf grimaced.

“Aye…you’re probably right, lass,” he said. “Good thing we’re here to pick up the slack then, eh?”

Ariene smiled briefly, then straightened and drew her bow again.

“At any rate, I don’t see the mold with these crates; I’d wager the more valuable cargo is stashed deeper in the cave. Let’s move further in and see what we can find.” 

The two made their way back up to the upper level and followed the tunnels through the old burial chambers. In one of the large chambers, a makeshift bar had been set up with a few tables and chairs, though the room was thankfully deserted as they passed through. They found more evidence that the ancient nords had used the caves as a burial ground, with more funeral urns, looted crypts, and carved stone doors around every corner. 

True to Ariene’s prediction, most of the bandits were out raiding, leaving the cave system mostly empty. There were a few stragglers here and there, but with the element of surprise on their side, she and Brynjolf had little trouble in dispatching them. Upon entering yet another wide open room set with a few tables and chairs, Ariene turned to Brynjolf and smiled sheepishly. 

“I almost feel bad for dragging you all the way out here now, it seems I would have been able to manage this on my own after all.” 

“Perhaps,” Brynjolf said, picking up a letter from the table and scanning it with little interest. “But between you and me, lass, even if we don’t draw our blades again for the rest of the day, I’m still glad I came. Just because you can handle a job like this on your own doesn’t mean you should have to without backup. Besides, the Guild’s been terribly dull the last few weeks; it’s nice to get out and about for once.” 

They followed another narrow tunnel out of the room, and found themselves in a small chamber with a wooden door blocking their way. Ariene walked up and tested the handle experimentally, then stowed her bow on her back and pulled out her picks. 

“Locked,” she said as she began fiddling with the lock, and Brynjolf snorted. ‘

“Never would have guessed,” he quipped, and Ariene rolled her eyes. 

There was a beat of silence, then Ariene frowned. 

“Odd,” she murmured. “Bryn, give this a try, would you?” 

Brynjolf sheathed his daggers and knelt beside her, taking the picks in his hands. He wasn’t as good at lockpicking as Vex, but he was still pretty damn good at it, so he was surprised when, after a minute or so of trying, one of the picks broke inside the lock. 

“Shit,” Brynjolf swore quietly as he pulled the broken pieces out. 

“This lock is far too strong for a random door in a bandit hole,” Ariene said as Brynjolf pulled out his own pair of picks. “What could be hidden back here?”

“Take a wild guess,” said a gruff voice. 

Brynjolf turned, only to find himself on the wrong end of a very sharp looking sword. He looked up to see a bandit woman in plate armor with war paint in harsh lines across her face glaring down at them. Ariene cursed and reached for her bow, but the woman shook her head and stepped closer, pointing her sword mere inches from Brynjolf’s neck. Ariene froze, and a sneer spread across the woman’s face. 

“Now then,” she said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “What am I going to do with you?”

— — — 

AN: Honestly I love that we've wound up on an entire side quest barely related to the main focus of the story, it feels very on brand for a skyrim story (also I'll talk any excuse to keep having these two dance around each other. :3 )

Prev: Ch.9 Every Cloud... || Next: Ch.11 Fic Masterpost

[torturedtypewritersdept]

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 + 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐪. 𝐭𝐚𝐠'𝐬:

hi little angel ♡︎ welcome to my safe space! 

Before you continue reading please know + understand that this blog is NSFW + strictly 18+; completely not suitable for minors. this means if you are not at least 18 years old, do not follow or interact with me. I will block you.in addition, before you send absolutely any request in for blurbs/nsfw content, please make sure to view this post. this post was inspired by @venuslore, who has the best aesthetics around this little space.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬:

☾ requests are currently open, however, they will be answered in order. Because of this, it may take me a bit longer than usual to get to yours, so please be patient with me!

☾ current writing schedule: every tuesday, thursday + friday a blurb or chapter of a series is posted, these days are often used from my own delusions or series' updates. If there is more than one series going on at once then these days can vary. please keep in my that I work full-time + I am a chronically ill person, not a machine, so this schedule can change from time to time.

Please pay attention to tags and warnings so that you are not reading something that is not age-appropriate or that may trigger you in any way. I love u all ♡︎ As always please send me asks with any questions, tag list requests and message me if ya wanna chat ♡︎

𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠'𝐬:

✰ tee's moodboards » all moodboards created by me

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✰ bestie ♡ » meant for mutuals + sweet anons

✰ tee's recs ♡ » blogs, moodboards, vibes, + fics that I love

𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫:

𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒: { rafe cameron, jj Maybank, john b routledge}

𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋: {dean winchester}

𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐒 (𝐔𝐒): {harvey specter, mike ross, donna paulson}

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄: {bucky barnes, steve rogers, tony stark, peter parker, etc.}

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: {steve harrington, robin buckley, eddie munson, etc.}

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂: { lee bodecker, zach maclaren, nick fowler, steve kemp, ari levinson, any barber, ransom drysdale, etc.}

𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤!

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄:

✰ reader inserts only {there are very few characters that I will write together that are not reader inserts. some examples are: mike ross x harvey specter + jj maybank x rafe cameron, sarah cameron x john b. these reader inserts are strictly fem!reader, plus size friendly.}

✰ requests not related to current series or projects will be answered in the form of blurbs + one-shots.

✰ fluff (cute moments, kisses, cuddling, dates, etc.)

✰ angst {h/c, injuries, anxiety, etc.}

✰ smut {smut is only written as part of a storyline, I do not write porn without a plot. here are some things I'm comfortable with writing: consensual sex, oral sex, handjobs, fingering, p in v, breeding, dom/sub, alpha/omega, voyeurism, exhibitionism, orgasm control, cockwarming.}

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄:

✰ sensitive topics {infertility, abortion, physical/mental/sexual abuse, mental health issues, self harm, etc.}

✰ smut {ddlg, foot play, age play, age regression, non-con, dub-con, rape, rape play, sadism/masochism, race play, bondage, incest, pedophilia, sweat play, etc.}

✰ reader's insert exceptions {these reader inserts I am choosing not to write simple because I do not know what it's like to be in their shoes + I would not be able to do them justice; trans!reader, gn!reader, male!reader.}

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄:

✰ reader inserts only {there are very few characters that I will write together that are not reader inserts. some examples are: mike ross x harvey specter + jj maybank x rafe cameron, sarah cameron x john b. these reader inserts are strictly fem!reader, plus size friendly.}

✰ requests not related to current series or projects will be answered in the form of blurbs + one-shots.

✰ fluff (cute moments, kisses, cuddling, dates, etc.)

✰ angst {h/c, injuries, anxiety, etc.}

✰ smut {smut is only written as part of a storyline, I do not write porn without a plot. here are some things I'm comfortable with writing: consensual sex, oral sex, handjobs, fingering, p in v, breeding, dom/sub, alpha/omega, voyeurism, exhibitionism, orgasm control, cockwarming.}

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄:

✰ sensitive topics {infertility, abortion, physical/mental/sexual abuse, mental health issues, self harm, etc.}

✰ smut {ddlg, foot play, age play, age regression, non-con, dub-con, rape, rape play, sadism/masochism, race play, bondage, incest, pedophilia, sweat play, etc.}

✰ reader's insert exceptions {these reader inserts I am choosing not to write simple because I do not know what it's like to be in their shoes + I would not be able to do them justice; trans!reader, gn!reader, male!reader.}

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

Moonlight & Fang Ch. 7 (Epilogue)

Divider @firefly-graphics

In a land long forgotten and plagued by a devastating curse, the delicate threads of magic begin to weave a tale of redemption and restoration. As the powers of enchantment stir, a newfound balance emerges. The people, who had suffered the most under the Hag's malevolence, felt the soothing embrace of peace descending upon their weary hearts. 

Little Red’s pack of six brave souls reveled in the triumph of fulfilling their destined purpose, their names now written amongst the stars. A legend to be passed down through the generations.

Time passed, and as they grew older, their lineage blossomed. Six children emerging into the world. No longer burdened by the haunting shadows of the past, they found solace in the tranquil haven, where the promise of peace stretches far and wide.

Free to roam its depths and embrace the wonders of nature. They lived a life without the shackles of uncertainty. For the tides of darkness had been forever banished.

Selene

A manly scream can be heard across the garden, grabbing my attention. I stand, dusting the dirt off of my knees and head toward the sound.

“Elara! Put Papa Dean down this instant. We talked about this young lady.” I scold. 

“Yes, Mama” She pouts, as she slowly lowers Dean back onto solid ground. Her brothers all snickering at the reprimand, while her sisters stick close to her side.

I make my way over to my pups. “Now why exactly were you using your powers of levitation on Papa Dean?”

She twists her fingers in anxiousness. “Acrux said I couldn't lift someone as heavy as his daddy.”

“But Papa Dean isn't Acrux’s daddy. Daddy Ari is.”

“I know that. But he’s not here right now and I just wanted him to shut up about it already. So I lifted Papa Dean instead.”

“Is that so?”

“She’s telling the truth Mama. I told her she could use my daddy.” Indi confessed. 

“Yeah, the boys were being mean again.” Lyrae adds in. “Even Leo.”

“Were they now?” I look at my boys. All feigning innocence. “I expect it from Acrux and Caelum. Mischief is in their nature thanks to Daddy Ari and Daddy Jax. But you Leo? What will your father think of this?”

“What will I think of what?” Bucky asks as he strolls over.

“According to Ly, her twin was joining in on being mean to the girls with his older brothers.” I state.

His eyebrows raise. “My Leo? My quiet book worm Leo.”

“Yes, daddy!” Lyrae shouts. “He was being mean. Wouldn’t even let me practice spells with him this morning.” She pouts.

“Did we miss something? What’s with the huddle?” Sy’s booming voice carries. A large buck draped over his wide shoulders as Ari saunters behind him, cleaning his knife and Jax rounds out the trio in wolven form.

“Your daughter decided it would be a good idea to hoist me up in the air.” Dean quips.

A smile crosses his face. “How high did you get em before he screamed, El? You know Papa Dean hates heights.”

“Sy!”

“What? Is she in trouble or something?” He shrugs.

“That’s what we're trying to figure out.” I sigh. “Clearly the boys egged this on. And while it is was rather hilarious to see Dean hoisted in the air screaming. El knows she’s not suppose to use her powers unsupervised.”

“What about the boys?” Jax asks. Having shifted back and put on some pants. Him being shirtless and glistening with sweat was a bit distracting at the moment though.

“Rux is the one who issued the challenge. Said El couldn't levitate someone as big as her father. Dean was the only one around so Indi volunteered him instead.”

“So Caelum didn't do anything?” 

“That’s unclear as the girls also said the boys were being mean.”

“Caelum.” Jax crooks his finger. “Here. Now.”

Caelum sullenly makes his way over to his father.

“Were you lot being mean to your sisters?”

He nods his head yes. “Sorry daddy.”

Ari groans. “Alright. This ends here. Tit for Tat has been had and I'm tired and hungry. So, boys your with us as we prep this buck for Papa Dean to cook us tonight.”

“But dad.” Arcux whines.

“I’ll have none of that Rux.” He addresses his son. “You’re the oldest. I expect more from you.”

“Well you’re always challenging all the grown ups? Why can’t I do it to my siblings?” He argues back.

The six of us share a look. I can barely contain the chuckle that escapes. “He’s got ya there Ari.”

“Who’s side are you on?” He asks of me with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, I’m on no one’s side but myself. I have no favorites in this squabble. I think the girls should met out a punishment as they see fit. I would do the same if the situation was reversed. I’m not the one worried my son can’t handle the consequences of his actions.”

“You know that will only start a war of magic and wills. We will all become casualties of it.”

“Ari it sounds as if you have become complacent. I thought you thrived on adventure and the unknown?” I tease.

“I still do.”

A smile as wicked as my past brightens my face. “Well, then. Let the games begin.”

[bonesxbows]

Something's Gotta Give (Aries x Reader)

My Masterlist

After a rough run through the Big Bend tunnel, Aries helps you with your wounds and unexpectedly finds something he wasn't supposed to

(WARNINGS) - graphically described self harm wounds - depressing themes - basic game type violence mentioned

there's a void for Aries fanfic out there and I aim to change that, one 3 am written fic at a time

he's such a good and complex character, lovehimsomuch

was gonna make this one longer but gave up on that idea. might make a part two, idk yet

thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoy! reblogs and comments much appreciated!

-

It had been a rough run through Big Bend, the brahmin barely making it through alive along with the three of you. Rudy had taken a couple of hits, a few bites, and a few scratches along with getting grazed by a few stray bullets, but you and Aries had taken the brunt of the attacks. The only reason everyone, including both brahmin, got out alive was because halfway through the tunnel you had instructed Rudy to keep moving with the Brahmin while you and Aries kept the Blood Eagles occupied, meaning that every single raider and their mongrel were focused on the two of you. 

Now the two of you were in a tent set out with cots for the guards and traders while Rudy was outside looking after the Brahmin. Vinny had closed the tent flaps behind you two so you could look after your wounds in private. 

“Lemme see your stomach,” Aries said as you sat down on a cot. 

“Why can’t we deal with your arm first?” You counter-offered. He pulled out a medicine bag from under one of the other cots. 

“My arm’ll be fine. Somethin' important could’ve been hit in your torso. Lemme see.” He sat down on the cot across from you and you realized there was no arguing to do here, he was always stubborn when it came to your well-being. 

Aries went to pull off your shirt but stopped when you winced in pain. The drying blood made the material stick to your skin like glue. He fished out a container of clean water and a semi-clean-looking rag from the medical kit. 

“Can you lay down for me?” He asked and you did so, moving carefully so you didn’t stretch any wounds open more. He wet the rag and used it to gently wipe away any crusted blood that he could get at, peeling your shirt up as he went until the entire cut was exposed, one long thin angry red line from a Blood Eagle’s switchblade. It ran almost the entire width of your stomach and it covered the entire area in a dark crimson. 

“Doesn’t look like it needs stitches, but I’m no doctor. Best I can do is clean it up and bandage it so you don’t bleed out on me.” Aries was mostly talking to himself, he didn’t wait for a response before pouring a new liquid on the scrap cloth and wiping the wound. 

“Fuck!” You yelled. You guessed the liquid was some kind of alcohol from the way it burned so badly. You wanted to push away his hand, yell for him to stop, but you knew it was better in the long run if he kept at it. The last thing you wanted was an infection. Aries seemed unfazed by your scream, until he took one of your hands in his free hand, giving it a light squeeze, his way of silently reassuring you that everything was gonna be alright. 

The burning sensation was so strong that everything was a haze until Aries put his hand behind your back and helped you sit back up. White gauze was wrapped around your torso, already being stained slightly pink as the cut began to slow its bleeding. 

He left you sitting up on your cot while he stripped off his shirt, revealing scars, both new and old, that littered his small frame. The majority of them were clustered around his neck and upper chest, and you assumed they continued up onto his face, trophies from his failed attempt of reprogramming a certain assaultron. 

The newest one added to his collection was from a Blood Eagle’s mongrel, it had caught him from behind and sunk its teeth into Aries’s forearm, near his elbow. You watched as he held his arm out over the edge of the cot and poured the alcohol over the puncture wounds. Even with his mask on you could still tell he was biting his lip to hold back a scream. The whole sight looked extremely painful and seeing him in so much pain made you wince. He tried to wrap the now heavily disinfected area in a piece of cloth, but it was difficult when he only had one hand to work with. 

“Here, let me.” You reached forward, moving to grab the makeshift bandage from his hand. 

“I got it.” He muttered under his breath. But both of you knew he couldn’t do it by himself, despite his stubbornness. So you took the two ends of the cloth from him, gently wrapping it around his arm and tucking it in itself so it didn’t unravel. Unbeknownst to you, Aries stared at the bloodstained wrist of your shirt while he waited for you to finish. 

“Did that bastard with the blade knick you in the wrist too?” He asked. The word “wrist” made you jump and you instinctively pulled your arms close to your chest. The action didn’t go unnoticed by Aries, but you played it off as if you hadn’t been startled by a single word. 

“No...no. He didn’t. That’s...old blood. Yeah. Must’ve been wearing this shirt while out hunting and forgot to wash the sleeves.” You looked down at the material that covered your wrists and forearms. One sleeve end was almost completely stained a dark red while the other just had some small spots of red polka dotting the sleeve. “It’s not important anyway,” you tried to change the subject, “How’s your arm? Your leg? Your back?” You mentally went down the list of where you had seen Aries take a hit during the fight. 

“They’re fine. Promise. Can I have a look at your wrists? Please?” Aries held out his hands. You were hesitant, not only because of the secret you were hiding but because you had a feeling that he had figured it out himself already. 

“Aries...I…” you looked down at your feet. Was there a way out of this conversation, or had the cards been revealed and your secret was up? 

“I won’t be upset. I swear.” He told you as if he could read your mind and knew you were worried. You breathed in a shaky breath and sighed, placing the wrist with the blood-stained sleeve into his hands. 

He softly ran his finger over your palm before taking ahold of the sleeve and pulling it down your arm, tearing up the dried blood that caked your skin as the material was removed. You wouldn't dare to look, turning your head to the side and staring at the wall of the tent. 

Aries stopped when the majority of your forearm was exposed. The sight made his stomach churn. What should have been soft, maybe slightly scarred, semi-clean skin was instead a messy blur of red, pink, brown, and purple. Scars, both old and new, littered every area of skin on your forearm until there was little undamaged skin left. Some scars were old, the thin and thick lines worn over with pink, blending in the new flesh with the old, but some were newer, the angry red lines surrounded by spots of purple and brown as they tried to close up and heal. 

But a few were a bright angry red, freshly dried blood caking the area in a dark crimson. The slits were fairly large and deep enough that they formed a crack in your skin. 

“When was the last time?” Aries asked, holding your wrists firmly. He didn’t sound angry, but his voice was still stern. You wanted to answer, but the words got caught in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Y/n.” This time he was a little louder, and a little firmer. The dam behind your eyes cracked and your walls came tumbling down.

“Earlier. Before the run through the tunnel.” You blurted out, hot tears pouring down your face. “I’m sorry. Please...please don’t be mad.” Your gazes met and for the first time since the two of you met, you didn’t want to be anywhere near Aries. 

But he wasn’t mad. He didn’t yell or belittle you. Instead, he let go of your wrists and cupped your face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. 

“You can’t be doin' this anymore sweetheart.” He said, his voice now soft and cooing. You sniffled. 

“I’m sorry...I didn’t think it would become an issue...I just…” you lost your words again, unsure of how to explain everything. Instead, you looked at him, and even though he was wearing a mask, somehow you could tell that he knew exactly how you felt. 

“I don’t want to lose you, okay? Not after everything that’s happened. I can’t. And maybe it’s selfish to think that, but I don’t care. You mean too much to me.” Aries sounded scared, and a part of you hated yourself for scaring the one person you loved the most. Especially when he was already so traumatized from everything else that had happened to him. 

“Aries...I…” your voice cracked, ending your sentence short. You took the time to think before trying to speak again. You knew trying to stop would be hard, you had been hurting yourself to cope with the world for as long as you could remember, but would it be easier with Aries right by your side? Then again, the thought of Aries having to deal with something bad happening to you made your insides churn. 

“I’m not saying you have to stop overnight. I know a habit like this takes time to break.” He looked down for a moment, running his fingers over his left wrist remorsefully. You peeked a glance and saw that he had had the same problem as you, albeit many, many years ago. White scars lined his skin near and around his wrist, but they were so old and healed over that you wouldn’t be able to tell they were even there if you weren’t looking closely. Aries knew exactly how you were feeling. 

“...you’ll help?” You asked quietly, still unsure about the whole thing. 

“Of course. You can always count on me.” He told you. His words made a smile tug at your lips. 

The two of you were quiet as he found some old cloth to use as gauze and wrapped your wrists. He was unusually gentle like if he tugged or pulled too hard he would break you like glass. Dusk fell soon enough and, after finding something to eat, the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. Your heart seemed to beat a little calmer than usual and you fell asleep with ease.

[trippinsorrows]

Ari 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 The suspense, romance, and comedy you gift us with in these beautiful chapters...please don't apologize or chastise yourself for writing 10k words or over that, because every word is chef's kiss. My heart is swooning for our couple, while terrified of what her "family" (using that term loosely) is up to. They keep moving her around like a pawn and their karma...something tells me when it does come, I may have to hide my eyes (can't do gore lol).

Jimmy has no business being left to his own devices 😂😂😂 Naomi got to keep him by her side always 🫶🏽

ahhhh, thank you so much! i'm so happy you enjoyed it! i think it's sometimes me more frustrated with myself cause how shit keeps ending up being at least 10k is beyond me. i promise that's not the goal. 😭😭😭 i'm just grateful you guys are receptive to that cause i know at one point in time, long ass chapters were frowned upon because it seemed too much, but i guess it's going okay for this story???

ugh. i loved the sweet scenes between them in this chapter. just my favorite. as far as her 'family'.....yeah, we're sadly stuck with them a lil while longer 😭😭😭 what's funny too is that i also cannot handle gore, and i've only written like....one torture scene in my life, but it ended up being pretty graphic. given everything xavier and co has done to our girl.....the brutality will be more than warranted. 😭😭😭

listen....jimmy needs adult supervision at all time atp 😭😭😭

thank you for reading!!!! ❤️❤️❤️