#but i keep catching myself pinching my stomach or like examining my arms and I’m like HEY. NO MA’AM

[emmaspolaroid]

.

[poursomesunaonme]

35 with Porco 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️ please and thank you

yall fr make me a fool outta myself w these

wc: 540

cw: nsfw (minors dni, 18+ only), shower sex, pretty vanilla otherwise lmao surprise

the sweat drips off your body seemingly in buckets.  the cool, sweet wind of air conditioning brushes against your skin and slowly brings your body down to a comfortable temperature.  entering the bedroom, you find porco examining two dress shirts, attempting to decide which one to wear.

“maroon,” you quip.  “you wore the blue one for the last event.”

he turns with a sly smile, taking in your damp clothes.  “my personal stylist to the rescue.”

“where would you be without me?” you sing, then begin padding off to the bathroom.  “i’m gonna go take a shower before pieck’s party.”

“i’ll get ready then.”  he strolls over to the closet to return the blue shirt and put together the rest of his outfit.

“you’re not gonna join me?”  porco’s shoulders tense at your suggestion, which you find utterly amusing.

“i already showered today.”  the rasp in his voice suggests that the desire that he so desperately wants to suppress.  he turns to find you raising an eyebrow, teeth sinking into your lower lip just barely.

he swallows past a lump in his throat as you head to the bathroom, starting the water before stripping down.  there isn’t any sign of porco for a few minutes, so you take the time to wash the sweat and grease out of your hair and off your body.  however, the curtain rustles as you stand under the stream of water, allowing the last few globs of soap to flow down your legs.

“thought you were holding out on me,” you murmur as his lips press against your shoulder.  his hands fasten themselves to your waist before traveling to your stomach and up to your breasts.  you melt into his touch, into the steam that surrounds you like a dreamy haze.

“you know i can’t resist you,” he grumbles, pinching your nipples.  a heavy sigh leaves you.  his ever-hardening cock presses against your backside, so you begin to grind on it, drawing a groan from porco.

one of his hands travels south, parting your folds to find an abundant wetness.  you shudder and lean into him, reaching up to grab the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss.  the contact deepens immediately, spiking your blood pressure as his tongue slides across yours, his fingers rubbing circles into your eager clit.  before you can heave another breath, porco whirls you around and presses your back into the wall.

“grab on,” he commands, and you obey.  wrapping your arms around his neck, you give a little jump and allow him to catch your backside.  your legs lock around his back as his cock presses against your cunt, drawing sharp inhale from the both of you.

“i need you, porco,” you moan, shifting your hips to grind on him.  his jaw sets, arm flexing as he holds you in one arm to slip in.  you both shudder, both starting to slip and slide in unison.  the heat of the shower, the boiling of your blood, it all combines into a fog of pleasure that you never want to come out of.

the wall of the shower is cool, keeping you grounded enough to utter, “think we should tell pieck we’re gonna be late again.”

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

[junisfics]

Heavy Petting ft. Armin Arlert (Day V)

Focus: Heavy Petting

Warnings: Sexual Contact / Nsfw 18+

Word Count: 2k

They’ve been gone for three days, they should’ve been back within a few hours. Where the hell are they?

Armin left with the others days ago to go on a supply run. Days. This trip should have taken them only a few hours to get done. They’re on horseback, they should’ve been back ages ago.

“Stop sulking around waiting for them to get back, they most likely came across a live town and are trying to trade or something...” Eren explains.

He can’t blame me, how am I supposed to sit around doing nothing while Armin- they’re out there practically begging to be eaten alive. 

I pace Mikasa and I’s shared room in the cottage, Eren sitting on her bed as I walk from door to window and back again.

“You need to drink or something, you’re livid.” He says.

“You need to stop acting like youre completely unbothered. I know it pisses you off just sitting here, you hate being excluded from helping.” I spit back.

“You’re just acting like a bitch because you don’t have an eye on Armin for once,” He stands up, “You’re obsessive.”

“I-I am not! I- at least I care! You let Mikasa be a suicidal hero for you and you sit around doing nothing in return!” I shout at him

“She’s just chopping wood, you need to relax.” He groans

“She was just thrown around, she needs to rest!”

“They’re back.” He mutters.

“Shut up you bastard- wait what?” 

He stares blankly at the window before turning and making his way down the hall and downstairs. I’m on his heels, practically shoving him down the stairs before pushing past him. I hastily push open the door too see them getting off their horses and stabling them.

“Armin... Armin!” I cry out. I see his blond hair whip around as he turns to face me. He’s tying his horse back up into her stable.

“y/n! Sorry, we ended up getting turned around, it took a little longer than ex- oh.”

His sentence is cutoff as I run up to him and practically throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, his own make their way around my torso and I hold myself flush against him.

“We were only gone a few days, are you alright?” He asks, speaking into my hair.

I let go of him and take a few steps back to look at him. His hair is coated in sweat and dirt that sticks to his forehead. It’s obvious they came in contact with a few titans, the give away being the cuts and bruises that litter his hands and face along with few rips in his clothes.

“Yeah, sorry. Are you?” My hands prod at him, inspecting any possible injuries I missed before. I take his hands in mine, examining the surface cuts. Then, I take his face in my hands and shifting it slightly to look over it. My eyes get caught at a thin gash below his left eye.

It was supposed to be just a little supply run, to get food and medical supplies, that’s it.

“Ah-” He grimaces, jerking back at my touch. I let go of him.

“Go wash up then meet me in the kitchen. I need to clean it.” I gesture my head to the house

He disappears off to the backyard where the water spout is and I make my way back inside, a little to quickly for that.

He’s alive. He’s alive. Relax, y/n.

I through the kitchen cabinets for my medical box. I’m pulling things and shoving things around when I realize I had leant it to Jean.

“Jean!” I shout

“Jesus, y/n, I’m right here, what do you want?” He sets down what I assume to be a sack of potatoes onto the counter.

“Where’s my med bag?” I ask.

“I put it in your room, under your bed. I didn’t know where else it’d go.”

It’s right where he says it was. I take it apart and pull out alcohol, gauze, needles and sutures. I lay it out accordingly onto the bedside table. Staring at it, shifting each tool an embarrassing amount of times.

Relax, he’s fine. He’s here.

“y/n?” Armin says, rounding the door frame. 

His once dirt soaked hair is now clean and wet, messily hanging into his face. His shirt clings to his still damp skin. In the absence of the dirt I can now see bruises littered across his jaw and cheekbones. His forearms are all scratched up as well.

I pat beside me on the bed gently. He closes the door quietly and takes a seat beside me. I pour a bit of alcohol onto a gauze pad and hold him by his chin to keep him still. He winces when contact is met.

“Sorry, sorry” I mumble, wiping and patting at the gash below his eye.

When It’s as clean as I think it can get I reach for the sutures and tweezers, pushing it through the damaged skin as gently as I possibly can, “I’m sorry, I know”

I can feel his eyes boring into mine and I grow obviously uncomfortable as I try and complete my work.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks suddenly. His voice quiet, nervous.

I look down to his lips, a slit in the bottom one, then into his eyes. Slowly and sheepishly, I nod, letting my tools drop to the floor.

His lips meet mine, cold but soft. He takes my face in his hands and my own drop from his and reach around his neck to toy with his still damp hair. 

My heart lurches out of my chest, his fingers gently tracing the skin of my cheekbones. His touch is overwhelming and I feel my own skin growing hot. I grab at the front of his shirt, twisting it into my fist to pull him closer. 

I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about kissing Armin, actually, you’d have to be stupid to think I haven’t. 

“I- closer, come closer... please.” Armin mumbles quietly, his hands pulling at my waist.

I hesitate, but only momentarily, then make my way closer, shifting inch by inch before something inside him snaps and he pulls me atop him. Our lips detach and my forehead rests against his, my legs straddling his waist but he remains upright, his back up against the wall.

“Armin..” I’m out of breath, my chest noticeably raising up and down with every pant.

“Fuck, just kiss me.” He pleads and I do. I tilt my head down so my mouth meets his again, this time with more passion.

His hands skim up and down my sides and back, touching almost any place he can without overstepping his boundaries. He needs more, I can feel it. It’s almost too much to handle, my body and senses completely flooded by him. He’s everywhere all at once.

I shift slightly to be flush against him my hands still around his neck, pulling him closer. His grip drops to my hips and squeezes them harshly before taking in a sharp inhale. Before I can kiss him again he tilts his head slightly so our noses bump together.

“You- God- you can’t do that... please.” This time he’s the one out of breath, overwhelmed and his skin hot.

My eyes closed and lips still searching for his as he pleads.

“You don’t- God, y/n, stop fucking moving.” He hisses, sitting up even more so to where his nose is in line with my jaw.

Hearing him swear is a rare occasion, let alone multiple times. It’s captivating, the sexuality of his frustration is so incredibly attractive.

His breath is hot on my neck, I can feel his lips tracing gently before kissing the tender flesh. My eyes flutter shut and my mouth drops open, a shiver goes down my spine and to my center.

Oh. 

Tiny whimpers leave my lips and I feel his tongue lick up my jugular.

“Armin,” I breathe.

“I don’t want anything from you, just this... please.” His voice has dropped a few octaves.

It’s so much, but so not enough. I feel stupid, completely dumbed by him. My head is clouded and all I can even think about is him, his lips and his touch. His fingers are gentle as they slip under the hem of my shirt to tickle the skin there. Another pathetic sound escapes my mouth.

His hips shift and a wave of pleasure ripples through me. 

“Armin, I-I can feel you.” I giggle quietly and he pinches the supple skin of my hips.

“Shit, I’m sorry- God” He groans into the skin below my jaw and ear, “It’s just- you’re just perfect.”

He sucks gently on my skin, marking the surface with little nips and bites every so often. The warm and wet gliding of his tongue along my skin has me shaking in his lap and every move I make I can feel him beneath me.

My hands rake down his chest and stomach then up under his shirt. The muscles of his stomach tense beneath my fingers. I never expected Armin to be so muscular, yes he’s rather lean but my fingers can feel the obvious divots between his abs. 

As my hands feel over his hot skin, his chest begins to rise and fall at a more rapid pace. His once innocent hands begin to sheepishly travel towards my backside. I try to encourage him by arching my back ever so slightly... and I wouldn’t say that hurt our situation but it definitely didn’t... help.

A groan rumbles deep in his chest as I do so and his grip on my lower back releases so he can grab my face and pull me away from him. My hands rest on the bare skin of his chest as he looks into my eyes and holds my jaw between his hands.

“You drive me insane.” He says under his breath, more to himself than to me.

His thumb follows the dips and mounds of my lips before finding resting tenderly against the center of my bottom lip. He uses his thumb to pull it down before letting it flick back up.

I try to lean forward to catch his lips in mine but he holds me still. A tiny smile upturns the corners of his lips as I try again with no prevail, only bumping the tips of our noses together once more. My mouth hangs open faintly, begging him to kiss me again.

I dig my nails into his bare chest, scratching gently.

“Ah-shit” He hisses, his eyes fluttering closed and head resting back against the wall.

“Kiss me, please.” I whisper, “Please.”

He blushes, pulling his head off the wall and looking into my eyes. I will never be able to get over how absolutely beautiful he is. The cool depths of his blue eyes are captivating; the gentle rises and falls of the bone structure in his face, the flexing of his muscles with every movement is so incredibly alluring.

He taunts me, leaning in then leaning out once I do the same. His pretty teeth showing with every smile.

I open my mouth and poke out my tongue, taking it and reaching to lick at his open lips. He twitches beneath me and I snicker quietly.

“Hey y/n! Have you seen Armin, Eren wants- oh!” Sasha pushes open the door and I scramble off of him, stumbling to the floor and taking a seat there. 

“Eren! I found him!” She calls to downstairs, then returns to us, “I knew it!”

christmas special taglist ;

@0inkawa @avaraykeil @flxwie @tartsandanime @aliviaothk402 @stardustsayornos @narcolepticstorm @capkatie @drxcomvlfx @malfoymikaelson @sambucky8 @softkidinlove

( if your user isn't grey pls check your privacy settings )

[dreamerstreamer]

Noise Complaint

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!neighbour!reader

Summary: The guy living next door to you never seemed to shut up, and one day you decide that you’ve had enough. 

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: this work was inspired by wilbur’s recent eviction notice (lol), dodie’s song, absolutely smitten, and my recent pasta addiction! by the way, this may or may not be entirely accurate, but who cares? let me have some fun!

You hummed as you scooped the last of the pasta onto your plate, furrowing your brows. Something’s missing. 

It hit you in a flash, your eyes lighting up as you turned on your heel to scramble into your kitchen. You strolled over to the windowsill where a small potted plant sat, basking in the sun’s warm, golden rays. “Hey, basil,” you said quietly, reaching over. “This might hurt a little, but it’ll only be a pinch.”

Tugging gently and carefully, you picked a few leaves off the plant’s branches, wincing a little. “Thank you,” you murmured with an apologetic smile as you turned away, walking over to your sink. You gave the leaves a quick wash before grabbing a knife from its spot in your knife block. With ease, you chopped the leaves into smaller bits, scooping them up with one hand while the other set the knife down on the cutting board. You skipped back over to your dining room with a small skip in your step, grinning as you took the chopped bits of basil in your hand and sprinkled them across the pasta in your plate.

Perfect, you thought to yourself with a small smile, stepping back to admire your work. With a satisfied grin, you slipped into your chair, picking up your fork as you began to dig in.

Today was your first day off in ages, and you couldn’t have been more pleased. It was a beautiful day out, and you had spent the morning out with your friends, catching up on everything over a quaint meal at your favourite restaurant. All the days spent running around for your boss suddenly felt like they were worth it and more as you laughed at your friends’ antics while you ate. While you had to part in the afternoon, you were more than happy to simply complete some household chores that you had missed out on during your usual hectic schedule. As sunset drew closer and closer, you found your stomach grumbling once more in a plea for attention and food. What better way to quench your hunger with some good ol’ pasta?

A muffled shout dragged you out of your thoughts, your shoulders jolting at the sudden noise. You let out a sharp yelp at the abrupt noise, holding a hand over your heart in an effort to calm yourself. After a second of silence passed, a frown etched itself onto your features.

Of course he was being loud, again.

You sighed, stabbing your pasta with a little more vigour. You loved your home, you really did. It was a lovely apartment with more than enough space for you to live comfortably on your own, and you had managed to get it for a criminally cheap price. It was located near your workplace and was even in a safe part of the city. Your neighbours were also wonderful, most of them being polite, friendly, and quiet. 

With one particular exception—the guy who lived directly next door to you.

You didn’t really know who he was, per se. You knew that he was your neighbour, that he mostly spent his time at home, and that he was loud. So, so loud. You didn’t think anyone could be this loud when they spent nearly all of their time in an apartment, but he somehow proved you wrong. If it wasn’t the occasional yell, then it was always “chat” this and “chat” that. What the heck was he even talking about? You didn’t know, and you weren’t sure that you cared, either. 

Even after having lived here for weeks, you still didn’t have a single clue who this guy was, but you were sure of one thing.

He was absolutely driving you up the wall.

While he wasn’t always super loud—miraculously, there were indeed quiet days—you couldn’t go more than a few days without getting startled awake from sleep or dropping something out of surprise. You were pretty sure you had already broken four dishes just because of him. Despite everything that had happened, you still hadn’t confronted him about it. You liked to believe that hey, this is just a one time thing, or it’s not so bad! You’d been feeding yourself these itty bitty white lies for weeks now, and you were starting to run out of patience.

You shook your head, examining the last piece of pasta on your fork with a roll of your eyes. Well, at least he was being quiet no—

Bang!

You yelped again, your fingers going limp in shock. Before you could even register what happened, your fork slipped from your hand, the pasta smacking landing on your shirt before sliding off you and landing on the floor. With horror, you stared down at the stain on your once pristine white shirt, the mark staring back at you mockingly.

Oh. Oh no.

You clenched your jaw, an incessant irritation clawing at the back of your mind as you stood, stomping over to your front door.

This was the last straw. You’ve had enough of his crap, and you were about to give him a piece of your mind

Pulling open your door, you only had to walk four steps before you stood face to face with your neighbour’s wooden door. Raising your fist, you knocked against the wood with an intensity that you didn’t think you were capable of. A few moments passed with no response, but you were sure you could hear some rustling on the other side of the door. You crossed your arms as you waited, tapping your foot. Just who in the world did this guy think he wa—

Just then, the door swung open to reveal your neighbour.

You blinked tilting your head back as you craned your neck at him. Your eyes widened in surprise.

He was tall, ridiculously so. With brown, fluffy hair that hung a little over his forehead and a dark, expressive gaze that looked down at you in confusion, he was also very, very cute. 

Damn him for being attractive. In another world, you might have even liked him. But right now, you had a score to settle. His attractiveness could wait.

“Hi,” you said, plastering a polite smile to your face. “I don’t think we’ve properly met before.” You extended your hand out toward him in a handshake. “My name’s [Y/N]. I live just next door.”

The confusion is his gaze parted slightly to give way to understanding. His lips curled to reveal a blinding white grin as he took your hand in his, shaking it. “Hello,” he said, his low voice practically enveloping itself around you. “I’m Wilbur Soot.”

His hands are so warm, your heart prompted. And soft. His smile is also really pretty. And his voice is so nice!

Shut up, you thought back as you pulled your hand from his. This was unfair. So unfair.

“I moved in a little under a month ago,” you began slowly, doing your best to keep your tone civil and calm, “and I only just realized that I never properly introduced myself to you.”

Wilbur’s grin only seemed to grow wider, and you hated just how sincere it was. “Well, it is certainly a pleasure to meet you.” His eyes darted down to your shirt, and you watched as he shifted awkwardly. “Oh, you, um, have something on your shirt.” He gestured to the bottom of his sweater with a sheepish smile, and you felt yourself losing your grip.

“I know,” you said between clenched teeth. “I spilled some pasta on it. As a matter of fact, I’m actually here to talk to you about that.”

His eyebrows knit together. “About pasta?”

The smile dropped from your face. Oh, that was it.

“Look,” you said sharply, feeling the slightest tinge of delight when you saw him jump a bit at your sudden shift in tone, “if I’m being blatantly honest, you can be really loud at these completely arbitrary times, and I’m just asking you to please, please be at least a little quieter. I startle easily, and your random yelling or wall-smacking or whatever have really been causing problems for me.”

“Like your shirt,” he said quietly.

“Like my shirt,” you confirmed.

The look on his face was genuinely upset, and you almost let yourself feel bad for calling him out. Almost.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had no idea that this was a problem. This is going to sound really weird, but it’s...” He paused. “...kind of my job to occasionally yell?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “‘It’s kind of your job...’” You shook your head. “Oh, forget it. Just... if you can, I would really appreciate if you could keep it down, even if only a little.” You grimaced. “I don’t think I can handle dropping another bowl.”

He winced, a wave of guilt flashing across his face. “Seriously,” he said, “I’m really, really sorry. The other neighbours said they were fine with me being a bit loud when I first came here, and I hadn’t even realized that you were new.” He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a wallet. “If you’d like, I’m more than happy to reimburse you for any inconveniences you ran into because of me.”

Your eyes widened, your jaw falling slack. As much trouble as he had caused you, you didn’t want to just take his money. That would be a whole other level of petty.

Holding your hands up in front of you and waving them frantically. “No, no, no, no, no, that’s too much.” You offered him a smile, a real one this time. “Just a little more quiet is perfect for me.”

The relief on his face was evident, but there was also something else there. It sort of looked like awe. “Thank you,” he said. “I never meant to cause you so much harm. I’ll make it up to you, really! I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” you immediately said, raising your hand with your pinky extended. 

A part of you cringed a little at yourself, wondering how childish you must seem right now. Your friends always teased you about making pinky promises even as an adult, years after you had left the playground, but you stood firm in your beliefs—pinky promises were eternal. But for some reason you couldn’t name, you felt almost embarrassed by yourself.

It’s ‘cause you’re into him, your heart chirped, speaking up once more. You want to leave a good impression!

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Shut up, shut up.

However, to your surprise, he nodded, lifting up his own pinky. “Pinky promise.”

You grinned, elation jumping through your veins. He wrapped his pinky around yours and squeezed. You squeezed back, ignoring the tingle that went down your spine as you did so.

Pulling your hand away, you offered him a bashful smile. “Sorry if I came across as really aggressive. I’m not usually like this.”

His lips quirked up at the side. “I don’t blame you, really.” He glanced down at your shirt, again. “If someone made me stain my shirt with pasta, I’d be reasonably upset, too.”

You giggled, waving a hand at him. “Well, you’re a nice guy, so I assure you I’m not that mad.” You stepped back, shooting him a teasing look. “I am going to hold you to that pinky promise, though!”

He laughed and, damnit, even his laugh was cute. “I don’t doubt it.” Stepping back inside his apartment, he raised his hand in a wave. “It was nice meeting you, [Y/N].”

You waved back. “You too, Wilbur.”

As his door fell shut, you sighed to yourself, a sense of satisfaction fell over you. Well, that went much better than I expected, you thought as you walked back to your apartment. You strode over to your kitchen table, picking up your empty plate and fallen fork, wiping off the small mark left by the pasta on the floor. He’s nicer than I thought.

You walked over to your sink, your mind swirling with the interaction you just had as you turned on the tap. Wilbur’s face flashed across your mind, and a familiar, warm buzz ran up your skin, something sweet and soft latching onto your insides like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Oh. Oh no.

You recognized that feeling. You knew what that fluttering in your stomach was.

You like him! your heart sang, dancing around in your chest and waving a neon sign with Wilbur’s name on it. You tooootally like him!

With a groan, you frowned as you picked up a sponge. Shut up, shut up, shut uuup!

Wilbur Soot may be kind, polite, well-mannered, pretty, cute, and tall, but there was no way you were about to let him off the hook that easily. He ruined your one good white shirt! He just happened to be... less sucky than you thought.

“Wilbur Soot is just my next-door neighbour,” you said quietly aloud to yourself, scrubbing angrily at your dishes, “and I definitely don’t like him.”

But deep down, you knew that it was no use.

You were smitten.

[cranetreegang]

Follow Me Part 2 - Valerius x Court Magician/MC

A/N: Part 2 of 5!!! I'm hoping to have all my Valerius works posted by the end of the week so I can get back to finish my Julian novel and start posting those chapters. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!!

Summary: The Magician's health isn't improving and Valerius opens up more.

Warnings: Affects from Poison

Word Count: ~2,200

Arcana Masterlist

Part 1

----------------------------

The light of the morning sun landed on my eyes, stirring me awake. I must’ve fallen asleep at one point and I was thankful nothing had happened in the night. Valerius was still asleep, his hair tangled with leaves and twigs. I checked on my shoulder and was met with even more pain than yesterday. I tried to move my arm and the slightest movement was met with stiffness followed by furious agony shooting down my entire arm and rippling across my back.

I went to stand, but my legs gave out from under me. I fell back to the ground with a grunt, waking Valerius in the process.

He looked around confused then groaned, “Gods, it wasn’t a nightmare.”

He had dark circles forming under his eyes, his shoulders sagged and he seemed exhausted even after a night’s rest. He sat up, leaning his back against the rock cliff, when I noticed a leaf stuck to his cheek. I laughed to myself, which came out more like a wheezing cough. His eyes widened when he looked at me.

“You look worse than yesterday.” He moved closer to me, examining me with a frown, “I thought you said you’d be better in the morning.” I was quick to get on my feet to get away from him and his peering eyes.

“I am better. We should get moving. We should be close.” I stumbled my way forward before finding my footing. My breathing was labored like I had just sprinted for days with just a few short steps.

The longer we walked, the more my body ached and my feet dragged. I wrapped my arms around myself to keep the chill at bay. My mouth was dry and I would’ve given anything for some water. I knew I had to be hungry, but the pain in my shoulder was the only thing I could feel. I focused my mind away from my worsening condition and instead on picking up my foot and taking a step forward then doing the same with the other foot.

“How is it that you’re so well suited for this?” Valerius broke the silence between us once the sun was highest in the sky.

“Suited for what?” I asked.

“This.” He motioned all around him. “Traversing through the country. Seems to be an acquired skill.”

I was thankful to Valerius at that moment because I could shift my attention away from the pain I was in to organizing my muddled thoughts into a decent answer.

“Before I came to Vesuvia, I wandered. Walking was the best way to get to places, if I couldn’t hitch a ride. I’d take shortcuts when I could through the country side. It's nice to make your own path instead of following the main road.”

“Never would’ve pegged you for a vagabond.”

I smiled, “I just never found a place that felt like home. I’d do odd jobs to get by. Someone always needs magic or remedies. Then, I’d move on. Seemed easier that way.” My smile faded as I thought back on all the places I considered settling, but never did.

“Is that how you learned magic? From another wandering witch?”

I let out a slight laugh which came out breathless, “No. I learned that before I wandered.”

“From where?”

I stopped to catch my breath and he watched me with pinched brows. “Why are you asking so many questions about me?”

He rolled his eyes, “There’s no one else to converse with. I need something to keep my mind off my stomach eating itself.”

I began to walk again and he was closer to me, keeping up with me with ease unlike yesterday. “I’m glad you think my life story would be more interesting than hearing your stomach growl.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He kept side-eyeing me, his lips angled down. “So, where did you learn magic, witch? Did a talking rabbit teach you?”

“A talking rabbit?” I questioned with a raised brow.

“It was a story my au pair would read. A talking rabbit would come to a child and teach them tricks in exchange for golden carrots.” He had a faint smile for a moment which he was swift to hide away. “Silly, now that I think of it.”

“Not entirely. Talking rabbits are a thing.” I grinned when he gave me a doubtful stare. “But, that’s not who taught me. I was barely walking when my parents realized I was attuned to magic. So, they gave me away. You could say I went to a school full of witches.”

“There’s more of you?” He frowned, making me laugh at his disgust.

“Enough of me. Have you always lived in Vesuvia?”

He nodded, “Of course. It’s my home. It was my father’s home. And my father’s before him and his father’s before him.”

“I didn’t realize your family had been here for so long.”

“We were there when Vesuvia was first founded. You could say our name is the foundation of what you see today.” He had a proud smile as he spoke.

“So, you’ve never thought about leaving?”

“No.” His answer was quick and I felt foolish for even asking.

“Is that why you dislike Nadia? Because she’s not from Vesuvia.” I frowned at my brash question. One I never would’ve asked if I were thinking straight.

He was quiet, pondering over his words to ensure an appropriate response, “In part. Outsiders shouldn’t have a place in court.”

“Why not? Isn’t it good to have fresh perspectives?”

He shook his head with a tight frown, “Not when their hearts aren’t aligned with Vesuvian interests. You’ve even said so yourself; Vesuvia is not your home. You could care less what happens to it. You can leave at any time. Go anywhere else. Nadia’s the same, with her home and family in Praka.”

“But you can’t leave.”

“No. Whatever mess, or disaster, or catastrophe that happens, I’ll always stay. Because Vesuvia is my home. For better or worse.” He sighed. “And it has seen its worst these recent years.”

He was far away again, much like last night around the fire. For someone who acted indifferent about almost everything, he cared for Vesuvia more than I gave him credit for.

“I do care. About what happens.” My words were slurring together and my eyes were too heavy to keep open, “I want… it to be my… home, too.”

I collapsed on a stump to keep myself from falling into the dirt.

“Magician! Are you alright?” He was by my side and when he went to help me, he pulled on my injured arm. I let out a strangled scream from being flooded with paralyzing pain. I pressed my arm against myself once he let me go, flinching away from me as if I scalded him. He knelt in front of me then grabbed hold of my hand.

“What is this?” He whispered at the dark green veins spidering along my hand. He shoved up part of my sleeve to see the trail of dark lines leading up my arm. He let go of my hand then unbuttoned part of my robes. He pushed the fabric aside and his eyes widened at the sight, his jaw clenched. Where the arrow had gone through was festering with yellow and black pus underneath the surface of the melded flesh, still an angry red from my seal.

“Of course the arrow was poisoned.” I sighed, leaning fully against the stump in exhaustion.

“Poisoned? Well, can’t you use some magic to get rid of it?” He slid my robe back on.

“Even if I could, it’s been untreated for too long. I would need an antidote at this point.”

He stared at me with a tight frown, “The village. It’s close, right?”

I looked around us and nodded, “I think so. I don’t know though.”

“We need to hurry then.” He helped me to my feet and didn’t let me stray too far away from him. He would correct my swaying or catch me before I could fall again. As the day dragged on, so did my feet. Sweat was running into my eyes despite my body feeling like I was caught in a blizzard. Valerius was wanting me to stop after the sun had set, but I kept pushing ahead.

“My feet are aching. I have blisters and cuts. I’m starving and thirsty. We need to stop.” He demanded. “You can’t even walk straight anymore.”

“Just a bit further.” I mumbled.

“Enough. You need to rest. Now.” He guided me towards a tree with a trunk as wide as I was tall. He placed me against the base and lowered me to lay against it.

He sat next to me with a huff. “You’re going to get yourself killed. Then I’ll be stuck out here alone.”

I stared up at the sky above and found stars twinkling through the branches. My mind felt hazy and I wasn’t sure what was going on anymore. I wasn’t even sure where we were or where the village was. We could’ve been going around in circles all day and I’d been none the wiser. I was brought back to reality when something was being placed over my shoulders. I watched Valerius wrap his black shawl around me.

“You’re shivering.” He muttered when I gave him a questioning look.

I held the shawl closer to me and felt warmth from it, “Thank you.”

“You can thank me by getting us to the village tomorrow and treating me to a meal, or two. And several bottles of cabernet. A whole crate actually.”

I chuckled, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The stars kept shifting in and out of focus above me. I realized the pain in my shoulder was dull, numb really. I should’ve been concerned, but I was too tired to care.

“Talk to me, witch.” Valerius said.

“What about?”

“Anything.” He whispered.

I rolled my head to look at him and he was staring at me with a grim expression. I looked back up at the sky, “Why do you distrust magic?”

He scoffed, “I don’t distrust magic.” I shot him a look with a raised brow which made him shift in place. “How am I supposed to trust something I don’t understand?”

“That’s reasonable.” I paused, “Would you like to understand?”

“If you have enough magic for a lesson, then-,”

“This doesn’t require magic.” I cut him off. “It’s how you can feel magic. I find it easier to explain it this way.”

He was silent and I wondered if he wouldn’t play along. I heard him shift next to me. “Fine.” He drew out the word. I smiled as I recounted the first time I was taught to feel for magic.

“Look up. Find a star. Just one. Can be any of them. It just has to speak to you.”

“Speak to me?” He questioned and I could picture the skepticism on his face without having to look at him.

“Not in words. Something inside you. It draws you to it above all others.”

He was quiet for several breaths before saying, “I think I found one. It’s the-,”

“You don’t have to tell me. Keep looking at that star. Your star. Watch the way it shines in the dark. Let everything fade away and all you see is your star.” I whispered while I listened to his breathing, slow and steady as he focused. “Listen. Do you hear it?”

He shifted to look around us as he exclaimed, “No. What is it? A beast? Should we run?”

I laughed, “No, no. Listen.” I urged him back against the tree and he went back to looking up at the sky. “Do you hear the wind through the branches? The crunch of leaves from the fox? The owl flying above the treetops?”

He nodded with a slight exhale.

“It’s like a song. All of them work together to create harmony. Without the wind, the owl can’t fly. Without the leaves, the mouse can’t hide from the fox. Magic is in all of these things. It’s life. Death. Beginning, end, and all things in between. It’s in everything. Like threads holding these pieces together. Do you feel it?”

“I feel something warm.” He murmured.

“That’s magic.” I smiled at him as I closed my eyes since they were too heavy to keep open. “Soon, you won’t even have to concentrate to hear the song. To feel its warmth. It’s always with you. You are connected to it, just like they are. Just like everyone. We’re all connected.”

“Seems like a noisy existence.”

“It can be. It’s also beautiful to be a part of it. To know you’re never really alone.” My head fell over and I felt myself on his shoulder. I was too tired to move or even apologize. It felt like a blanket was placed over me and I let it drag me down into a warm slumber.

----------------------------

Read Part 3 Here

[ticklystuff]

Liquid Eyeliner

A/N: i know nothing about makeup lol i just wanted lee!Zhongli

Word Count: 2k

“I really like this color on you.”

“Hu Tao was actually the one that chose it for me,” Zhongli said, giving a slight smile to the other as he looked straight ahead, doing his best not to shift his head or move his facial muscles around too much. Normally, he would be applying the eyeliner under his eyes himself, but for some reason, Childe insisted on doing it this time for him. He wasn’t exactly comfortable about letting Childe put the brush so close to his eye, but the ginger had insisted and Zhongli wasn’t one to say no, especially since Childe bought the eyeliner for him earlier.

“I can tell you’re worried,” Childe said, pulling his hand back and giving the other a small pout.

Zhongli shook his head and gave the other a nervous smile. “Not at all. Just make sure you do it properly.”

“I’ve actually had some practice before,” Childe told the other as he brought his hand back, placing the tip of the brush right under Zhongli’s eye.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my sister used to ask me to do make up with her when I was younger. I always tried to make her look like a circus clown,” Childe chuckled, keeping his hand steady. “She’d practice on me all the time too and she actually got quite good. I even let her paint my finger and toe nails.”

Zhongli smiled as he listened to Childe reminisce. Childe loved to tell Zhongli different stories about his siblings and Zhongli always caught the happiness in his voice when he spoke of his siblings. Childe always talked about having his siblings meet him and Zhongli looked forward to that day.

“Hmm,” Childe took a step back to examine his work. “I think I might have smudged it a little bit. I think I should just restart. Let me grab a wet napkin.”

“Water won’t remove it,” Zhongli told the other. “The media is oil-based, so the eyeliner is insoluble in water. I have a bottle of sweet flower oil in the drawer next to you that I use to wash the eyeliner off at night.”

Childe nodded and headed for the old drawer in Zhongli’s room. He opened the top drawer and couldn’t help but smile when he found the cologne he had purchased for Zhongli, the bottle half full. It was one of the many gifts that he had gotten for Zhongli during their multiple date nights in Liyue.

He rummaged around the top drawer for a good minute, before moving to the second drawer, making sure not to disturb the neat and orderly way Zhongli had placed his belongings. Thankfully, the bottle was in plain sight in the second drawer, with a piece of cloth conveniently placed beside it. He grabbed the two items before heading back to the older man, pouring a little of the solution onto the cloth and handing it to Zhongli.

“Maybe I should just do it myself,” Zhongli said as he did his best to wipe away the eyeliner, chuckling when Childe put his hands on his hips in defiance.

“I’ve already committed,” Childe told the other as he grabbed the thin brush before Zhongli could. “I’ll just steady my hand this time.”

“Alright, alright.” Zhongli sat back on his mattress, relaxing himself as Childe attempted once more.

Childe leaned in once more and brought the brush to Zhongli’s face again, but this time grabbed Zhongli’s shoulder firmly to help steady himself. This caught the older man by surprise, though, and Childe nearly jumped back in concern when Zhongli suddenly squealed.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?!”

“No, I’m alright,” Zhongli affirmed to the other as he regained his posture. “Just caught me off guard.”

Childe looked at Zhongli with a puzzled expression. “Is there something wrong with your shoulder?”

Zhongli simply shook his head. “I’m alright. I’m not sure what came over me, but I’m fine.”

Childe nodded in response. He brought the brush back over to Zhongli’s face and brought his hand back to Zhongli’s shoulder, slowly this time, for balance. He carefully traced the brush under the amber eyes. He bit his lips and furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the task before him, something that Zhongli found to be quite endearing.

“Alright,” Childe muttered as he reached the corner of Zhongli’s eyes, pulling the brush away to take a look at his handiwork, his hand still on Zhongli’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that bad, if I do say so myself.”

Zhongli gave Childe a small smile as the other beamed over his work. “I’ll judge for myself. There should be a hand mirror in the drawer that you- Ah! H-Hey!”

Zhongli’s body cringed as he felt Childe squeeze his shoulder multiple times, his arms coming up in self-defense when Childe repeated the action. He looked up at the ginger to see a mischievous smirk plastered over Childe’s face, one that usually meant Childe was up to no good.

“Looks like Mr. Zhongli might be ticklish,” Childe teased, his smile growing wider when Zhongli began to stutter.

“I-I don’t- Wait! Ajax!”

Childe had pushed Zhongli back onto the mattress and straddled his waist, looming over the other with wiggly fingers ready for an attack. Zhongli never used his real name, unless he was irritated with Childe, but this was too good of an opportunity for Childe to pass up now. He’s already used to being berated from Zhongli on a constant basis anyway.

“Ahahaha! Childe!” Zhongli squealed as Childe brought his fingers menacingly to the older man’s underarms. Since he was in the comfort of his own home, Zhongli only had a thin t-shirt for protection, the shockwaves traveling from his armpits and hitting his brain like a wave.

Zhongli wasn’t going down without a fight and Childe constantly had to keep swatting away his arms, making it hard for him to tickle the older man consistently. Naturally, the ginger adapted to Zhongli’s defense mechanism and focused on his sides this time, giving each spot rabid jabs, one after the other in quick succession. This caused Zhongli to wiggle back and forth, attempting to avoid the alternating blows to his sides. Each poke resulted in a gasp or whine filled with husky giggles, something Childe considered music to his ears and only drove him to pick up the pace. He had never heard Zhongli laugh so much and it was quite addictive, so he figured

“Y’know, I used to tickle my siblings all the time,” Childe recalled as he began focusing on Zhongli’s hips, smiling as he found another good spot. “If any one of them ever felt down, they could always expect a visit from their friendly neighborhood tickle monster!”

“Ahahahaha! Chihihilde!” Zhongli wailed as Childe continuously pinched his hips methodically, his laughter drowning out whatever Childe was saying to him in the moment.

The only time he had ever been tickled was whenever Hu Tao needed his attention and it was only ever a short poke to his side. Not only was Childe much more aggressive, he was also much more skilled. Every poke and scribble elicited a new stream of laughter and his attempts at dislodging Childe were proving futile. He felt Childe’s hands moving over to his stomach, which renewed Zhongli’s efforts to squirm away. By chance, one of his flailing hands jabbed Childe in the side, pausing the tickling as Childe squeaked and involuntarily protected the sensitive spot with his hands. Zhongli used this brief moment of respite to try and push away from Childe, but the ginger recovered almost immediately.

“Hmm, this used to work on Teucer, so I wonder if it’ll be the same for you,” Childe thought out loud as he eyed Zhongli’s stomach. His shirt had ridden up just slightly to expose the well-toned abs and bare tummy, which only enticed Childe to try a different technique. “Heh, don’t kill me, okay?

“W-Wait! Childe w-what are you— NohohoHOHOHOHOHO!”

Zhongli flopped around on the bed and kicked his legs as Childe blew a raspberry into his stomach. The unfamiliar technique brought tears to the corners of Zhongli’s eyes as Childe repeated the action over and over. The sensation created such a strange feeling that made Zhongli’s mind feel like mush. He didn’t even try fighting back anymore as Childe sent one more his way, before stopping when he noticed Zhongli’s laughter had turned into silent wheezing.

Childe raised his head from Zhongli’s stomach to make sure the other was okay, taking in the sight of the older man. Zhongli’s face was bright red and his eyes were still screwed shut, with his mouth agape as he panted for air. His normally well-kempt hair was a mess and there were even a few tear streaks. When Childe felt he was staring too long, he lightly diddled his fingers along Zhongli’s bare stomach, causing Zhongli to gasp and open his eyes.

“Oh, hey, your eyeliner still looks good,” Childe said as he brought a finger to Zhongli’s eye to wipe away a stray tear.

“I already told you it’s not soluble in water,” Zhongli told the other curtly after catching his breath, looking away from the other as he spoke. It wasn’t easy to embarrass Zhongli, but he could feel his cheeks burning up after the ordeal Childe put him through.

“Hey, don’t be mad at me,” Childe awkwardly laughed as he lifted himself off of Zhongli and helped him up. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Zhongli sat up and fixed his clothes with a sigh, pushing his long hair behind his shoulders. “I’d hate to be one of your siblings, to be quite frank.”

“Maybe, but being my sibling comes with so many pros!” Childe said, smiling at the other as Zhongli rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, we haven’t gotten to your other eye.”

“I wonder why,” Zhongli huffed sarcastically as Childe picked up the brush again. He crossed his arms as Childe brought the brush to his face, but he let Childe apply the lining to his eye like before, flinching when Childe put his hand against his shoulder again for balance.

“Don’t worry,” Childe chuckled, finishing up the liner. He pulled back the brush and used his other hand to lift Zhongli’s chin so that he could get a better look at his work. “Looks great!”

“Well, this took almost three times as long as it normally takes me,” Zhongli said as Childe went to get the hand mirror from the drawer. He took the mirror from Childe and examined the eyeliner. It was a little messy, but it wasn’t that bad.

“So, how did I do?”

Zhongli looked up to see Childe giving his usual charming smile and Zhongli couldn’t help but return a small smile back. “One could say it’s passable.”

Childe couldn’t help but cheer at the small win. “You should let me do your makeup all the time, Zhongli.”

“Perhaps,” Zhongli sighed, the thought of possibly going through another tickle session with Childe daunting to him. “Next time, though, how about we try some eyeliner on you?”

“I-I mean sure, I guess,” Childe said hesitantly, scratching the back of his head. “I’m not sure it’d look good on me the way it does for you and I’m not sure what my color would be.”

“Well, we can always go shopping for some later,” Zhongli suggested. “Why don’t I show how to apply it properly, though. We can use the one that I have.”

“N-Now?”

“Why not?”

“O-Okay,” Childe said nervously as he sat down, switching places with Zhongli. “Hey, you’re not still mad at me, right?”

“Of course not,” Zhongli said firmly, grabbing a fresh brush from his drawer before returning to Childe. “I want to show you how it’s properly done. Tickles and all.”

“Wait what? W-Wait ZhonglihihiHIHI!”

[butterfliesinmyguts]

A Helping Hand

summary: reader always helps around and levi wonders why.

warning : fluff, angst, and happy lovely stuff(may or may not turn into a series)

“ you did better today...” Mikasa breathed pushing my body off of hers. I finally was able to take her down. before dinner, she’s been helping me train to get better at combat.

a smile fell on my face, getting up and dusting myself off, “ keep it up and I’ll be more scared of you then those titans are..” I was able to keep up with Mikasa in ODM training, which was nearly impossible for everyone else. i felt at home in the air- as soon as my body begins to float, everything thing else zones out. my swords were just an my arms extended and I felt so powerful killing titans- scared yes- but powerful, but on ground I’m a clumsy wreck.

“ now let’s go eat before our meals fall victims to Sasha” letting out a laughed, I quickly remember a promise I made earlier today.“ could you save me a potato or something? I promised Jean I’d cover for his stable shift...” My friend sighed, “ again y/n?” quickly nodding, I set off to the stables.

I didn’t mind helping, if it was me I would want someone to offer to help me. sometimes I helped hange with mission plans, the days we go into town a lady sometime needs help carry supplies in her store, at the end of the week I help armin with reading, and at the beginning of the week I help captain levi organize his papers.

helping Levi is my favorite part of the week, if I’m in his office late enough he’ll set a cup of tea in my face with the words “ drink “ following after. while in my focused trance of replacing the water for the horses, and daydreaming about my captain Levi- two feet come into my line of vision. looking up my eyes were met with cold grey ones and then his trademark frown.

“ why are you out here, this is Jean’s punishment” dropping the buckets to the dirty stable ground, I wiped the sweat off my palms against my pants- fucking Jean, you told me this was duty.

“ just giving him a helping hand” my voice cracked, trying to laugh off the pure nevrousness that his presents brings me. I admit that im extremely fond of captain levi. he’s was the only guy that has ever made my stomach go crazy just by looking at me. the way he holds himself, short- yes- but never looked down on. he is humanity greatest soldier, during training I swear that he watches me. I feel his eyes burning my skin, the one time I did catch him Levi’s eyes widen and his breath hitched. I would kill to even be able to hug him, sometimes I imagine what it’s like to kiss him-but know that’ll never happen, hange told me that he thinks I’m silly and child like - he’d never feel that way about me.

“ - and now you’re standing there looking stupid, are you going to answer me y/n?” I realized that I’ve completely blocked out everything he said.

“ i.. please repeat the question- I’m sorry.” pinch his nose, my captain shook his head toward the ground. “tch, I asked you why your doing his punishment ?” shrugging, I began to brush the horses. “ I like being a helping hand, -“ before he got the chance to scold me I continued with “ it’s the only thing that makes me feel happy..”

looking up to catch him staring at me, our eyes locked together and for the first time ever I saw his eyes soften. taking him in, cause I may not ever be allowed to do it again, my heart ached. Levi is beautiful, breathtaking. his youthful glow made those dark orbs glow,if lips werent in the plain straight line- they would be puffy and pinky- so kissable. pulling my eyes away I finally breathed, trying to focus on the brush going through the horses hair while Levi still watched me. “ if that’s the case I need help mapping out the next expedition, hange told me your quite intelligent.” my cheeked warmed and a smile began to creep up on my lips- hange is getting so much praise next time I see them.“ I’ll find out for myself..” that smile dropped. “ come to my office after you clean and change from your filthy clothes.” nodding I watch the man walk towards the dining hall. On the inside, I was doing leaps. more time with levi, and we’d be talking to each other- I get too share my thoughts with levi.

“let the horse boy have fun with his siblings, and if I catch you doing other’s chores I’m making you run until the sunsets...” and you giggled.

during dinner levi couldn't help to think of you. why did you look at him like that, was there something on his face? maybe you were just scared, but no he’d always caught you looking at him. rather it been during training, in the dinning hall, and even doing expeditions.

Recalling back to when he first saw you, that smile you had permanently planted on your face- stupid what made y/n so happy? he was even more stunned when you got your ass handed to you by reiner during training and yelled “ again!” with that grin. that beautiful smile, y/n was beautiful- everyone knew it. levi heard eren, jean, connie, armin, and even hange talked about what they would do to have you in they’re beds, they all ranted about you body- Levi will admit that he has imagined your shy breath as his hand roamed your skin but It's more than looks with you, you care so much and you're gentle with him.

y/n would make sure that you take off your boots when entering his office ( which is tedious a job in itself ) but you did because Levi hated it when his floors were dirty and when on missions you squeeze all you cadets hands just to comfort them. no one ever has been gentle to him, it made him feel important but more importantly, why couldn't he stop thinking about you.

after showering, you changed into you nightclothes and headed to levi office. you knocked softly to quick “ come in..” I opened the door to Levi pulling two cups of tea. “ your late, I hope you didn't finish the stables...”

pulling your shoes off placing them beside his door you watched him pour, “ I didn’t” assuring him. moving towards the desk, examining the maps- Levi’s notes were so oragnized and neat. each note had so much detail about the surrounding area. while familiarizing with the map, Levi placed the tea cup infront of you. “ drink.” Brushing passed you, he set down in his chair.

why would he risking going in the open field for 740 meters, “ wouldn’t it be better to use this patch for cover?” expressing my concern, levi leaned up and listened to me rumble about the how it’ll be longer but it’ll save more cadets- every change I got I took a peek to see if he was still listening.

those sliver eyes watched me draw circles and point at the map, bottom lip between his teeth. i imagined how good it would feel to push my lips against them, the relief and pleasure that would rush through my body. I craved him “urh- but those are my thoughts..” finishing pushing away from the desk, distracting myself by sipping the tea.

“ where would we stop ?” Levi questioned, my heart warmed up, I stood over him to explain better “ over there would be a great rest point..” pointing to it, my neck completely in front of levi. I felt his breath hitched, clearing my throat i grabbed the pencil marking the on the map. “ I notice a cabin the last time we traveled...”

“ tch, impossible that’s a bit of the trail, with those tree you couldn’t have seen anything..” looking down in shame “ well while everyone was sleep I explored, even found a waterhole..”

I knew the risk of exploring, but I couldn’t help myself. while setting up for camp I saw a stream pulling down and I just had to see.

“don’t ever do that again...” nodding feeling ashamed, does this mean I have to go stay in the dungeon like eren? his eyes lighten a smirk playing along his lips.

“ just don’t go alone okay?” smiling at his words. sitting across from him I continued to tell him my discoveries - making sure he took notes of the waterhole and fields filled with berries. Levi forced me to write all my finding down, and he promised to even follow me on one of my ventures next time.

as time flew by tea cups were spilled, by me of course, and I was forced to re write the papers I ‘ ruined ‘ leaning my head on this desk my eyes flutter - wake up y/n - yawning I turned to levi still writing, how is he still writing? that tea was not keeping him up. so much energy, my eyes trailed his toned arms- the veins moving every in each stroke. blinking I distracted myself from my dirty thoughts.

“ you need to sleep levi” stretch my bones, the pop and crack give me a shot of adrenaline so I can actually wake up. “I’m fine” he muttered.

Levi eyes sunk from the lack of sleep, he was fighting it- too focused in his work to care that his eyes were burning and skin was red with an indention on his finger from the pen. “ they’ll be there tomorrow I promise..”

I reach to grab the papers, placing my hand softly on his bicip- he stiffened instantly and pushed my back into his bookcase. my ass landed on the ground,“ owe!” I cried, rubbing my back. fuck he is strong for a little guy, wow.

“y/n!”

levi rushed over and I swear his eyes were widen, like he was worried that he actually hurt me. Levi quickly leaning down watching me.“ I didn't mean to that y/n” a couldn't help but smile at him. were so close right now, my nose filled with his fresh scent- mint and tea leafs.

“ don't worry captain I-” levi’s hand pat my head. I could fucking scream in joy right now. did he just pat me? he never touches anyone. what does this mean, pulling away I watch his hand close as his finger tips carcassed his palms. as if he was trying to saver the feeling of my head, huh?

“your being gentle with me, why?” questioning him- levi set down in front of me. “ why not, your gentle with everyone else..” my eyes widen, he notices me In that way? planting his hand on my cheek, my heart stop, It felt so warm- his thumb wipe the tiny tear from the corner of my eyes. I’m blushing “I just flung you, and your still smiling why?”

shrugging “ I should have known that what’s going to happen” breathing out, I stared at his lips. “ y/n..” nodding not looking up at him. just kiss him, Levi is right there.

“ l'm going to kiss you..” he leaned and pushed my hair out of my face. repeating those words in my head, “ is that okay?” nodding quickly our lips came together as Levi took me in. I felt his chest against mine, and I couldn’t help but to grip his collar pulling him closer.

our lips begun to dance with each other, levi hands landed on my waist pulling me on top of his thighs. that smile still planted on my face between the kisses, while my hand combed his undercut.

my daydreams weren’t even a compare to the real deal, gently rubbing the back of his neck, Levi groaned into my mouth. With each movement we gained a slow rhythm,our body flowing against each other. I couldn’t help but to moan in pure pleasure I was feeling.

levi pulled bac slowly and watched me with my smiled in a drunken daze. replaying the moments in my head, Levi just kissed me, Levi my captain levi thinks of me- he thinks I’m gentle. a “ wow” left my mouth as he got up, leaning down quickly to steal one last kiss. my smiled never left my lips as I stood up leaning against the bookcase as finger tips brushed over my lips, hope the tingling sensation never went away. Im buzzing, I’m buzzing- all because of him.

watching the man, pick the fallen books up his eyes went to the window . “ it’s almost dawn, go get some sleep” Levi ordered coldly , point toward his bed.

fuck, “it’s dawn already!” I darted around Levi’s office trying to clean my area and while getting myself together. Levi stood there confused, as my actions all clicked in his head- arms crossed tightly along his chest.

“ I promised sasha that I’d help her with her hair this morning- I hope she’s not up already- oh no” slipping on my shoes on. opening the door to walk out, I give him a warm smile. “ I’m so sor-“

“ don’t worry, thanks for the helping hand..” leaning in to kiss him I was met by a closing the door. dumbfound I stood there, “what?”

part 2!

[djarinslover]

Insecurities

Warnings: Slight suggestive themes, eating disorder mention (brief), angst, fluff

I had a female Reader in mind, but I did try to make this as neutral as possible

Sam-

After getting out of the outrageously fancy shower (thank you, Zemo), you were staring at yourself in the long mirror in your room. Twisting and turning to look at your body. You pinched and grabbed your thighs, face pinching in disappointment as you take note of the extra weight you gained in the past months. You didn't notice Sam sneaking up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, dipping his head into the crook of your neck to press light kisses. You don't even acknowledge him, making him meet your eyes in the mirror. He frowned as he examined your face, noticing the scowl on your lips.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Sam, do you think I'm getting fat?"

"What?!" He lets you go, moving to stand in front of you, blocking your vision from the criticizing gaze in the mirror. "Baby, why would you ask that?"

"Because I'm getting more stretch marks on my thighs and ass, and my pants barely fit anymore."

Sam raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile filling his face. He reaches down to grab your ass through your robe, bringing you closer to him. "Thick thighs save lives, baby. Isn't that what the kids say?"

"Ugh, Samuel." You push away from him with an exasperated groan, heading for the duffle bag thrown on the bed. "I'm asking you a serious question."

He hurries after you, reaching to grab your hand. He spins you around, hand tilting your head up to make you look him in the eye. He's grinning, that lovely little gap in his teeth making you feel warm. His hands run down your arms before he bends slightly, gripping your thighs. He gropes you, making you blush.

"Baby, you are abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous to me. I don't think you're fat at all. Don't roll your eyes at me."

Sam pushes you onto the bed, leaning down so his face was hovering right over your stomach. His eyes glint in the soft sunlight that's streaming though the windows. His hands run up and down your legs, chin resting on your stomach. "I don't care about your stretch marks. I don't care if your pant size goes up or down. I just care that you see yourself as beautiful as I see you." He unties your robe, leaving you bare to his gleaming gaze. "Besides, the more meat you got down here means the more for me to grab and kiss and love on."

He punctuates his sentence by swooping down to your thigh and sucking a hickey on the inside, leaving you breathless. His eyes meeting yours, a sly grin on his lips. "Can I show you how much I appreciate your body?'

"Please," you breathe out, all insecurities flying out the window.

Bucky-

"Hey, doll?"

You shrink under the covers of the large bed, trying to hide away from your boyfriend. You knew you had important stuff to take care of in Riga, but you couldn't bring yourself to get out of bed.

"Doll, what are you doing in bed? You need to get up."

Bucky goes to pull the blankets back but you hold on tight, groaning from your spot. He chuckles above you. "Let's not act like some sleep goblin, alright? Get up, what's going on with you?"

"Will you still love me even though I'm getting fat?" you mumble.

"Huh?"

You throw the blankets back to reveal your tear stained face, lips cracked and bitten red, eyes swollen. "Do you still love me even though I'm fat?"

Bucky sits next to you, bringing you into a tight hug. "Honey, of course I would love you! What are you talking about?"

"I feel like nothing fits me anymore, like everything is too tight. My arms and stomach look bigger and, and-" you begin heaving, tears filling your eyes again.

Bucky cradles your head, shushing you as you sob into his chest. He lays kisses on the top of your head, holding you as tight as possible. When you calm down, he lifts your head to kiss along your tear streaks. His breath is warm and comforting, keeping you grounded to the reality that he's here and holding you and he loves you.

You take a shuddering breath, clinging onto Bucky's shirt as he continues to rain kisses along your face. He finally pulls back, thumbs rubbing your cheeks. His eyes are so soft and blue, looking into your soul.

"Doll, I don't care what you look like or how much you weigh, or any of that petty shit insecure guys care about. I'm one hundred and fucking six years old. You think I could find anyone else to deal with my crazy ass?"

His question causes you to giggle quietly, shaking your head. "No," he laughs. "No one else would put up with me. You're stuck with me, no matter what changes your body goes through. I'm here for you."

You gaze into his eyes, knowing he's being sincere and true. You lean in, pressing your lips against his in a soft, slow, passionate kiss. You pull away breathless after a while, hands playing with the curls of his hair on the base of his neck. Your lips are still so close that they touch as you speak.

"Thank you, Buck. It means a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me."

He kisses you again, pushing you against the bed. He begins to get frisky, groping your body as you kiss. Though you're quickly interrupted by Sam pounding on the door.

"Hey, lovebirds! We got shit to do, let's go!"

Bucky kisses your cheek, smiling. "C'mon doll. I'll show you later how much I love you."

Zemo-

Zemo placed plates in front of three of you. It smelled and looked delicious, but you couldn't bring yourself to eat more than a few bites. Sam and Bucky, however, dug into it eagerly. The Baron had been cooking for you all since he was out of prison, shocking you that he even knew how to cook. It made you think about how he probably spent nights in the kitchen with his wife and child, making dinner together with laughter and kisses.

Instead of eating, you sip on the cherry blossom tea Zemo made, listening to Sam and Bucky bicker. They were having another one of their stupid little spats, causing you roll your eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Zemo staring at you intently. You glance over at him, eyebrow raised. He raises his own in questioning, gaze flitting down to your barely touched plate. Your cheeks grow warm as you realize what he's hinting at.

"NO, Bucky, end of story!"

Sam storms off, Bucky hot on his heels to fix whatever just happened. They disappeared into a room, the door slamming behind them. You became acutely aware that it was just you and Helmut Zemo in the room. Alone.

You sip more of your tea, your throat tight. You weren't scared of the Baron, just apprehensive. He was still in a robe from earlier, his hair dripping water onto his shoulders.

"May I ask why you haven't eaten? I assure you, I haven't poisoned your food."

You startle, clearing your throat as you think over your answer. "It seems great, Zemo. I'm just not hungry."

"Bullshit."

His stern reply makes you turn your head to fully look at him. He's frowning, hands resting on the marble counter. His eyes bore into yours, almost venturing to your soul. "In the short time I have been with you, I have not seen you eat a full meal. You drink, yes, but I have yet to see you eat."

You grit your teeth, swallowing a sharp retort. "It's really none of your business, Zemo. I don't remember asking you to mother me."

His frown deepens. "My wife had an eating disorder when we were younger. Freshly twenty, she was struggling with the expectations of being a Baroness. So, she stopped eating. It took me a few years to discover what was going on, but together, I helped her. You deserve happiness and health."

Tears were building behind your eyelids, your breath caught in your throat. "I just . . . I don't like myself, right now. I'm still adjusting with the blip and the deaths of my friends. And I somehow put on weight. Avengers need to be thin and agile, not fat and out of breath."

Zemo steps around the counter to stand a few steps away from you. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I see an absolutely breathtaking person in front of me."

A shaky breath escapes your mouth at his words.

"Eat, Liebling. You need your strength."

As he strolls away, you stare at the plate before taking a bite. Just as you predicated, it was delicious.

Sharon-

"You look amazing," Sharon whispers, hands on your hips.

"Are you sure? I feel like I look huge."

"Honey, are you kidding? I want nothing more than to skip this stupid party and just stay in here with you. I mean, those new sheets do need broken in."

"Sharon!" you snort, pushing your girlfriend away.

She smirks at you, grabbing your hand. "Why do you think you look 'huge'?"

Your smile falls from your face, lip catching between your teeth. "I've just noticed my stomach looking bigger. And more stretch marks appearing everywhere. It's getting hard to feel sexy, honestly."

Sharon grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her. "Stretch marks are sexy as hell. And your stomach, babe, it's perfect. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

You try not to make a face of disbelief, but you can tell by the way Sharon's eyebrows pinch together, you didn't do a good job. She grabs your hips and begins steering you towards the couch. She pushes you roughly, making a gasp leave your lips as you flop down. She straddles your lap, running her fingers through your hair. She grabs a nice chunk of your hair, pulling your head back so you're staring at the ceiling. She starts sucking and kissing on your neck, laving over the stretched skin. She makes her way to your ear, pulling the lobe gently with her teeth.

"You're sexy as hell."

She presses her hips down against yours.

"I want to tell Bird Brain out there and his gang tough shit, they're going to have to find Nagel themselves, because I want to prove to you that you're beautiful."

She sucks a heavy mark onto your collarbone, your hands tightening on her hips. Suddenly, she pulls away. "Alas, I have business."

You stare up at her in disbelief, eyes wide. She grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping up. She pulls you up by your hand, rubbing her thumb soothing along your skin.

"Can I show you off tonight?"

You smile, kissing her. "As if you have to ask."

"Great. Let's go find Nagel and get back soon."

"Deal."

[thebrownssociety]

Across The Serververse, Chapter 7

Back on the spaceship a debate was brewing. 

“-But all I’m saying is that it makes sense to get Sam!” Penelope said, for about the 5th time. “Then we know we’ve got everyone who was connected with the cartoon network universe!”

“But that’s completely illogical.” Marvin said, bluntly. “Sam, as we know, can take care of himself and is unlikely to cause great harm to himself or others. Sam is also in the ‘Wacky Racers’ universe, which is not unlike our own. Wile.E and Roady however are in the ‘Mad Max’ universe. That’s a completely different ballgame, so to speak, and we should retrieve them first so they can’t cause damage to other people, each other and themselves in that order.”

Bugs sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why, WHY did he think this would be simple? Just go round the universes and get everyone back. A hard conversation may be needed here and there [he was anticipating one with Daffy, for instance] but on the whole he was certain the others would come back. After all, why wouldn’t they? The entire family was here after all, would they really want to be left behind?

Just as Tweety was yelling that actuawwy GRANNY would be a good idea as she was - and direct quote - ‘owd and fwail’ [which Bugs personally found hilarious as he’d seen frailer cement mixers] the decision was taken out of there hands. 

“Stop!” Pepe yelled at the top of his lungs, seeing he now had everyone’s attention he said, calmly. “Why do we not see what planet we are closest to and retrieve the toons on there, yes? Make it simple, no?”

A thought flashed across Bugs’s mind that if they carried on down that route it meant Fudd would be last, but he shook the thought away like it was an irritating insect. Fudd would be fine, Bugs reasoned, he was more quick-witted and intelligent than people gave him credit for. He would be fine. Fine! Absolutely fine...

Marvin smiled [or at least the others assumed he was smiling. It was a bit hard to tell] and ‘full-speeded ahead’ to Mad Max Universe.

“Be careful!” Pepe yelled as Penelope crashed into him. “You are not on the racing track now, non?”

Marvin - somewhat uncharacteristically - ignored him and just landed the spaceship with a small ‘thud!’ “Well.” The Martian said, as he zeroed in on Wile.E’s and the Roadrunners trackers. “Here we are. The Mad Max universe. There was a pause before Marvin said, with faux brightness. “So, who’s going to volunteer to get our two brothers then?”

It soon transpired that it was Bugs himself who was going to ‘volunteer’ for this no doubt arduous task, what with the rabbit being the fastest amongst them. 

“How do I get meself into dese situations?” Bugs wondered aloud, as he stood in the middle of a dust road looking for any sign of either the road runner or the coyote. Then he saw it. The familiar dust trail of the roadrunner which Bugs knew from previous experience meant he was about five-

-zoom!-

...make that two seconds away. And if the roadrunner was here, that meant the coyote wasn’t that far behind-

-zoom!-

Aaaaaannnnnnnnddddddddddd there he went! Bugs turned tail and ran after him. 

Wile.E, Bugs could hardly fail to notice, looked like an advertisement for leather. Leather coat, leather gloves and a weird looking mask tied across his eyes, making him look like a robber. In one hand he wielded what looked like a extended litter-picker with the end significantly modified so it was [in theory] capable of catching roadrunners. The other hand was clutching the steering wheel of the motorbike he’d presumably ‘borrowed’ from somewhere. 

Bugs ran flat out as he did his best to get level with the coyote, and it was a testament to his abilities and pig-headed determination that he actually managed it. “Wile.E!” Bugs called, loudly in order to ensure he was heard over the noise. “Wile E! It’s me Bugs!”

The coyote looked at him in startled surprise, taking his eyes of the road for literally about two seconds, but that two seconds was all the universe needed for Wile.E to fall flat on his face and go skidding into a rock, which caused a boulder to fall from above onto him, just for good measure.

Bugs winced and slowly sidled up to the rock where the coyotes arm was sticking out from under it. The rabbit waited for his younger brother to come crawling out from under it, probably glaring daggers, but nothing happened. After a few more seconds he got concerned and tried to move the boulder himself. 

Back in Tune World this wouldn’t be a problem. As long as Bugs timed it at either a funny moment, or a moment that made sense within the narration, he’d have been able to do it. But, Bugs realised as he pushed, shoved and yelled curses at the rock, this wasn’t Toon World.

“Beap, beap!”

Bugs let out a shout of surprise and jumped about ten metres in the air, before landing with a thud. He sighed, got up and turned to see the road runner examining the rock critically. Seeing Bugs looking at him, Roadie held up a sign which said. ‘You get one side, I’ll get the other.’

Really, Bugs thought, this might be a good time to get Marvin’s disintegration ray, or maybe the other toons, but he didn’t really have time to argue so he just grabbed the other end of the rock [which was thankfully quite jagged, so easy enough to get a grip onto as opposed to the smooth round boulders that usually fell on Wile.E.] and together he and Roadie lifted the boulder of off the coyote and looked at the crushed noodle-like body beneath it.

Bugs stared silently, trying to digest what had just happened, while the roadrunner donned a black suit and tie and threw a random wreath at the coyote’s still body.

As soon as that wreath made contact with Wile.E’s stomach the coyote ‘rose from the dead’ ala Mushu style saying dramatically. “IIIIII LLLLLLIIIIIIIVVVVVVVEEEEEE!”

He was rewarded for this Oscar-worthy spot of acting by tomatoes being thrown at him by Roadie and Bugs. “Dat’s for quotin’ Disney!” Bugs told him sternly.

Wile.E shrugged. “Don’t blame me, inferior creature, I didn’t write the script.”

They glared at each other and then, going a 180, hugged and laughed joyously. “Oh!” Wile.E exclaimed, as he swung Bugs around. “I’m so glad you’re alive! I would like to say we never gave up hope, but I’m afraid that would be a lie as we’ve thought you were dead for the past few months now.”

Wile.E popped Bugs back on the ground and the rabbit wasted no time shaking himself to get all of the dust and rocks and like out his fur. “Oi’m gonna be hearin’ that for de next few chapters, ain’t I?” He reflected.

In response Wile.E simply pointed. Bugs followed the point and saw Roadie holding up a sign that said. ‘Well, the last time we saw you you were left alone with an angry psycho. So, you know, assumptions were made.”

Bugs grinned and flapped his arms. “Ah, never mind all dat! C’mon, Oi’ve managed to get some of the gang already, we’re all on Marvin’s spaceship! C’mon, follow me brothers!” And with that he dramatically turned heal and started in the direction of the spaceship. [Which wasn’t actually visible from where they were, Bugs having had to go on something of a hunt for his younger brothers.]

He got about ten steps in before realising he was Coyote-and-Roadrunner-less and turned back to see Wile.E standing in the middle of the dust track with his arms folded and his nose in the air, while Roadrunner looked confused and kept looking between the two like he was a spectator at a volleyball match.

Bugs approached his coyote brother carefully and asked. “Eh...what’s up, Wile.E?”

Wile.E scoffed and holding his nose up even higher [if that was possible] said; “I find it interesting, Mr Bunny, that you assume I shall just go with you?”

The rabbit frowned. confused by this question. “...Why wouldn’t ya?” He asked, eventually.

Wile.E scoffed again, as if to say ‘if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you’ and turned his back on the rabbit.

Bugs was now very confused and started pulling apart the conversation they’d just had in his mind to see if there was anything he’d said that would explain the coyote’s behaviour. About ten seconds into this thinking Bugs was gently pushed aside by Roadrunner who held up a sign that said: ‘Leave this to me.’

[Note from Author: The following conversation has been translated into English for ease of reading. Within the universe of the fic, on the other hand, the below conversation was said in roadrunner style beaps from both parties concerned. The author has also tried to keep Roadie’s rhyming style of speech. Whether she’s succeeded or not is a different matter.]

Roadrunner stepped closer to his brother and said, in a kindly tone. 

“Wile.E, my brother,

From one twin to another

Would you be so kind?

Tell me what is on your mind?”

Wile.E took a moment to think about exactly what was bothering him, before saying in a measured manner. “I’m thinking Roadie that...I’m old.”

Roadie’s eyes went wide and Wile.E hurriedly clarified. “Oh, I know what you’re going to say, I’m in my early 70′s, early 70′s is no longer considered ‘old’. Except, factually, it is. Even if you take into consideration the fact that I’m a toon and therefore immortal, I just can’t help wondering...how much longer can I do this?”

His brother looked at him in a manner that suggested he was unsure of what he meant. Clicking his tongue impatiently Wile.E snapped. “For Newton’s sake, do I have to spell it out!? How much longer can I keep throwing myself off of cliffs and under boulders and the like without damage? Even with gadgets like these...” Here he looked down at the custom-made grabber and chuckled. “...Not that we’ve got anything like this back on Tune Town. I mean, look at this!” Here he went into a half-mad description of what exactly the grabber was made of, what it could do and why exactly it was the best thing since sliced bread. Roadrunner waited patiently the whole time this lecture went on, nodding at what he felt were appropriate intervals until, finally, Wile.E finished with: “But what’s the use? I’ll never be able to invent another one.”

Roadrunner frowned and said, rapidly. “But Wile.E, why ever not?

Seeing as you’re a total swot*

Would it not be so very easy,

to build something just as great?

From an engineers point of view,

it should be easy to recreate

And with me by your side

You’ll be sure to hit your stride.” At the end of his little rhyme, Roadie smiled brightly at his twin and waited for the verdict. 

“Because, my fraternal twin brother, I made THIS one via the materials on this planet and seeing as when I step on Marvin’s ship I’m presumably not coming back here then that means I’m somewhat sunk, aren't I? More than usual, I mean.” Wile.E looked at the grabber and lovingly stroked it.  

While he was doing that Roadie thought.  Truth be told he had heard this more than a few times before. Wile.E periodically went through periods where he thought he was reaching the end of his genius, but he usually pulled through. This time he sounded different though. More wistful and melancholy. It concerned Roadie, but he was unsure of what to say and went quiet for a bit trying to think of the right words.

While he was doing that Wile.E’s ginormous brain was ticking, slotting the pieces together as he looked down at the grabber. Really, now he was actually thinking about it instead of running on emotion, the materials the grabber was made with weren't that different to similar materials that could be found on Tune Town. Melt an anvil down, for instance, and simply reshape it...

Wile.E smiled. Oh yes, that would work alright. He was an idiot to have not thought of it before!

Roadrunner saw the familiar smile and, immediately perking up, said rapidly to Bugs. “I think you will be happy to know, we are finally ready to go.”

Bugs made a celebrationary air-grab and grabbing his brothers by the arm and wing respectably pulled them in the direction of the spaceship. Luckily Roadrunners brain was ahead of Bugs’s on this occasional and he had also see where the spaceship was earlier on in the chapter when he’d speeded ahead; so, with his usual catchphrase, he ran under Bugs so the rabbit was forced to cling to him and sped of at about 1000 miles an hour, not wanting to waste any time.

Behind them Wile.E smiled wickedly and activated the grabber which enabled him to swing between boulders [how he managed not to crush himself the author only knows] essentially becoming the coyote version of Tarzan and together they speeded towards the ship

[geraskier-hell]

Hi, could you please write "Don't kink shame me." from the smut prompt list. Your writing is wonderful and thank you so much. ❤️

Thank you so much for the prompt and for enjoying my writing ❤️

Read here or on AO3

Impatient hands glide over Jaskier's sides, and hungry kisses take his breath away. He lets himself be taken over, leaves behind the stress from the day and just unwinds under that strong but caring touch. He sighs, opening his mouth to welcome his boyfriend's tongue and wraps his hands around his shoulders, hands playing with the long white strands. He can feel Geralt’s arousal pressing on his own, and he hooks a leg behind his knee, pushing him forwards.

Geralt grunts and his fingers brush over Jaskier’s nipples, playing with them. The touch goes straight to Jaskier’s cock, and he can’t help but buck his hips as he gets more and more restless. He is finally able to breathe again when Geralt moves his mouth down his neck, licking and biting his skin.

“Geralt,” Jaskier moans, throwing his head backwards.

Geralt moves even further down to close his lips around Jaskier’s nipple, flicking his tongue over it and taking it between his teeth. Jaskier hisses, hands tugging at Geralt’s hair so hard the man struggles to keep his head down. A low growl resounds from him and this time it’s Geralt that jerks his hips forward to get that much-needed friction both of them are craving for. 

“Please, Geralt, leave my nipples alone, my cock is going to explode if you don’t do something about it.”

“Let me enjoy myself,” Geralt replies, switching to Jaskier’s other nipple.

“If you want to enjoy yourself, I made a stop on the way home.”

The proposition catches Geralt’s attention as he looks up at Jaskier. The brunet smiles to himself and sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed to take the bag underneath it. He has bought a bunch of fun things to try with Geralt, but he takes out the ones he’s the most excited about, a rope and a blindfold.

“You want to try bondage stuff?” Geralt asks, partially surprised, partially sceptical

“Don’t kink shame me,” Jaskier protests. “I’ve always wanted to try this and I trust you, so I thought, why not?”

Geralt takes the rope in his hands and closely examines it. “Okay.”

“Oh, I thought I would have to use all my charm to convince you. Is there something you’re not telling me? Something kinky?” Jaskier smirks.

“There isn’t,” Geralt deadpans. “As long as you’re comfortable, I’m in.”

“Who’s being a good boy today?” Jaskier coos, winding his arms around Geralt’s neck.

“Why haven’t you bought a gag as well? It would have been useful.”

“I told you there was something you weren't admitting.”

“On second thought, I just need a handkerchief to shut you up,” Geralt says, annoyed.

“Or a kiss,” Jaskier suggests.

“Next time I’m buying a gag,” Geralt replies but still gives in and shuts Jaskier up with a kiss. 

Nervous excitement runs through Jaskier as his boyfriend takes off his shirt and pins his hands above his head. Geralt kisses him again, more slowly this time and then ties Jaskier to the headboard of the bed.

“How’s this?”

“I think it can work,” Jaskier replies, pulling on the rope. It’s tight enough that he can’t move but not too tight that it hurts his wrists.

“I’m blindfolding you now.”

Jaskier nods and the last thing he sees before having the blindfold on are Geralt’s reassuring eyes.

“Oh, wow, it’s really dark,” he comments.

“That’s the whole point of the blindfold.”

It’s weird but not uncomfortable, a little exciting too as he can’t tell what Geralt is going to do next. He tries to focus on his other senses but is still surprised when Geralt kisses his chest. He immediately tries to wrap his arms around the man, but the rope reminds him he is tied to the bed, so he can only squirm under Geralt’s touch. 

Geralt licks one of his nipples while his hand plays with the other one, pinching it between his fingers. Jaskier gasps and writhes on the bed as pleasure and discomfort mix together. He is sure his nipples are as red as cherries now, Geralt always likes to play with them way too much without paying attention to his aching cock. With his hands tied, Jaskier can’t push him away, he can only move around while he whimpers.

“Next time I’m going to tie your entire body,” Geralt comments, biting Jaskier’s nipple again.

“Stop licking my nipples,” Jaskier protests. “I have other body parts that demand your attention.”

“But I like this one.”

Jaskier pulls on the rope again. “Geralt.”

“Fine,” the man huffs, hot breath leaving goosebumps on Jaskier’s wet nipple. 

He moves down Jaskier’s body, hair tickling his stomach. He kisses Jaskier’s belly button and then lower and lower, sliding Jaskier’s trousers down to kiss his coarse hair. The anticipation is even more exciting now that Jaskier can’t see what Geralt is doing. He can only feel him on his body and hear his tempting kisses. He bucks his hips, but Geralt is soon moving away from his cock, travelling up his torso once more.

“Geralt,” he complains again.

“We should have done this before,” his boyfriend replies, going back to Jaskier’s nipples.

“Geralt, please.” Jaskier can feel the smirk on Geralt’s lips, can perfectly picture it in his mind despite the blindfold. “Asshole.”

There is a soft chuckle and then Geralt’s lips are leaving his body completely. Jaskier briefly wonders what other torturing methods he has come up with, but he is pleasantly surprised when his trousers and underwear slide down his legs. He helps as best as he can, but in a few seconds he’s completely naked and Geralt is back on him.

He glides his hands up his thighs, bending him in half. Jaskier huffs, he certainly wasn’t expecting this, but he is more than happy about the turn of events. He grips the headboard and just waits, full of desire and impatience. Geralt doesn’t seem to be in  rush as he kisses his thighs and leaves bite marks anywhere he can reach, really testing Jaskier’s patience.

When he finally decides to pay attention to Jaskier’s hole, it’s just to press a feather-light kiss, not enough to satiate Jaskier’s desire. The brunet whines and urges him on, but Geralt is set on taking things way too slow tonight, so without his hands, all Jaskier can do is pray that Geralt will pick up the pace soon. 

For as much as he hates being teased, there is something exciting in not knowing how things will turn out, in not having full control over the situation. He and Geralt have been dating for years now and he entirely trusts him, so there is no reason for him to be scared, but being unable to predict what is going to happen, for how pleasurable that might be, still makes Jaskier’s heart race.

Geralt kisses his hole again, but this time his tongue darts out too and Jaskier gasps for the long-awaited touch. He moans his boyfriend’s name while the man laps at his entrance and plunges inside. He shivers and holds the headboard tighter as his body welcomes Geralt’s tongue. A bead of precum oozes down his cock and lands on his stomach, but there’s nothing Jaskier can do about it, only Geralt can take care of that now, but he’s too focused on fucking him with his tongue to notice it.

“Geralt,” Jaskier cries out, but the man doesn’t reply, only bends him further to reach deeper inside him.

Jaskier moans again, cock aching for attention, but Geralt’s touch on his hole feels too good to ask him to stop. He squirms on the bed and he gets louder when Geralt puts a finger inside him too. He curls it as he fucks him with it, making Jaskier lose his mind even more. He pulls on the rope, once again forgetting he’s tied up, and this time Geralt lets him go, guiding him back on the mattress.

“You’re going to hurt yourself like this,” he whispers in his ear.

His hot breath makes Jaskier shiver, and his kiss muffles his reply.

When their lips part Jaskier has already forgotten what he wanted to tell Geralt, and the sound of the drawer opening distracts him even more. He hears the cap of the lube opening and then Geralt’s finger is once again inside his hole, working him open with quick movements. By the time his boyfriend deems him ready, Jaskier is a panting mess, cock hard and aching, and hole twitching for more. 

The sound of Geralt opening the condom wrapper soon reaches his ears and Jaskier whines in anticipation. Geralt lines himself up with his hole, but doesn’t push further than the tip. He remains still, caressing Jaskier’s thighs, sliding his fingers up his waist and on his cock. Jaskier loudly moans, hips bucking upwards to meet Geralt’s hand, but the man keeps his touch light, making it feel more like a torture than a reward.

“Geralt,” Jaskier whimpers, pushing him forward with his foot.

“What’s the magic word?” Geralt replies, moving a millimetre deeper.

“Please, Geralt, please.”

Geralt hums, but Jaskier can’t tell whether he’s satisfied or not. He murmurs another “please” and this time Geralt holds his waist and pushes all the way inside. Jaskier’s voice breaks when he feels his hole being stretched so wide and tightens his grip on the headboard. He wishes he could see Geralt’s face in that moment, but for as much as he searches the darkness, he can’t pierce through it.

So distracted by his pleasure, he is surprised when Geralt kisses him, but he relaxes immediately after and opens his mouth for him. Their tongues glide on each other and Jaskier wraps his legs around Geralt’s waist to take him closer to himself. He wants to taste as much of him as he can, kiss him while he’s so full, but Geralt seems to be enjoying himself way too much today and after giving Jaskier a bite of what he wants, he pulls back, sitting straight again.

He starts with slow movements, giving Jaskier the chance to get used to him and to roughly understand what’s going to happen. Jaskier follows his hips, and it doesn’t take long before he’s asking for more, body blindly searching for pleasure. Geralt snaps his hips faster and deeper, soft grunts leaving his lips so quietly Jaskier is hardly able to hear them, but when he does, his chest swells with satisfaction. 

He clenches around him and feels Geralt’s thrusts stutter for a second before coming back in full force. He grins but he soon has to grit his teeth as Geralt begins to fuck him harder. The sudden change catches him off guard, but the element of surprise only makes things better, more exciting and unexpected as he can’t know what Geralt is going to do next. The unknown fills him with arousal and every thrust brings him closer to his orgasm; the fact that he’s tied up and blindfolded only helping with that.

“Geralt,” he cries out when the man hits his sweet spot.

Geralt doesn’t reply, only rams into him harder. His cock throbs inside him and Jaskier clamps around it, finally eliciting a moan from him. He is about to smirk, proud of himself, but Geralt covers his mouth with his own and messily kisses him, leaving him with a trail of saliva drooling down his chin and gasping for air. He is so far gone that all he can do is to hold onto the headboard as tightly as he can as Geralt abuses his prostate. Shocks of electricity shake his body, and his cock is so hard it’s painful.

“Geralt,” he whines. “Touch me.”

Geralt thrusts into him harder before replying, “No.”

“Geralt, please,” Jaskier whimpers again.

“I know you can come like this too.”

“I can’t.”

Jaskier pulls on the rope, desperate to touch himself, but Geralt grabs his hands and stops him. Jaskier cries out again, but Geralt muffles his noises with a kiss as he continues to thrust inside him. Jaskier is so close it would take him only a few quick strokes to come, and yet his hands are tied and Geralt has no intention of doing anything about it. Precum is profusely oozing from his tip, he can feel it run down his length, and his hole is spastically clenching around Geralt.

When their mouths parts, Jaskier begs Geralt to touch him again, but none of his prayers are answered and his cock is still excruciatingly hard. Geralt rams into him, hitting his prostate every time and Jaskier’s body quivers, taken over by his need. He whines and cries out Geralt’s name again, and when he thinks he’s about to pass out, Geralt fucks him deep and he finally comes. 

He feels his hot cum landing on his stomach and his body shivers in relief as a peaceful afterglow settles on him. Geralt thrusts into him a few more times before coming as well, a low growl leaving his mouth that puts a content grin on Jaskier’s lips. 

The world is still dark for some minutes, but Geralt eventually pulls the blindfold down, and Jaskier blinks as he gets used to the light again. His boyfriend unties his hands as well without saying a word and as his eyes finally adapt to the light, Jaskier notices he’s still trying to catch his breath too.

“Well, that was a success,” he says, rubbing his wrists. The signs of the rope are visible on his skin, and he briefly wonders for how long they’ll stay there.

“Did you enjoy it?” Geralt asks, resting on his side next to him.

“I sure did. Did you?”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Jaskier grins, kissing him. “See? I told you there were some dark fantasies you weren’t telling me about.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and sits up on the edge of the bed. “You should go wash yourself,” he says as he stands up.

“You can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me,” Jaskier retorts.

“Are you sure you don’t have a gag in that bag?”

“I am, but I have other fun things for us to try,” Jaskier grins.

Geralt hums and rounds the bed to get to the door. “Take a shower first.”

“I knew you’d be interested.”

Geralt stops next to Jaskier and takes the bag away from his hands. “You’re dirty. Shower.”

“You have a dirty mind too. It takes two to tango, you know?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to reply, but Geralt holds him by his chin and kisses him. Now that he has his hands free, Jaskier can finally wrap his arms around his boyfriend and take him down on the bed again. He keeps him in place as they kiss, softly running his hands in his white hair. Geralt gives in and lets Jaskier kiss him as he wishes, caressing his sides as well until Jaskier licks his lips.

“Later,” he says, easily escaping from Jaskier’s embrace.

Jaskier pouts as he lets him go away, but after seeing traces of his come on Geralt’s stomach he realises how dirty he is and follows him into the shower, already thinking about what he wants to try next.

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: Teen & Up

Chapter: 1/? (More chapters to come a little later in Dec + Early Jan!) 

Summary: A loose crossover between Carry On and parts of I'll Give You The Sun. "He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured."

Carry On Countdown, Day 10 - Crossover @carryon-countdown​

Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Social Anxiety, Crossover, Pining Baz, Artist Baz, Space Enthusiast Simon, Star Gazing, Anxious Thoughts,  Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 10

Words: 2,145

Baz

I need to stop thinking about grey, slippery roads and black shrouds. About the purple under my Father’s dull eyes, and the red of my Aunt’s anger. I need to stop thinking about me - About my life. My head is too loud. Too noxious. I need someone else to take my mind for a while. I need to see. To paint. And so, I search for a subject. 

Dragging my binoculars across the bleak, colourless houses, I search, desperately, for even a glimpse of a hue. But the colours are slipping from the world again. They always do when I’m trapped in my head.

And then I see them - The movers - so far from colourless that I’m dizzied. They’re great work horses, both of them - One chestnut, and one palomino - Hulking a grandfather clock up the house-next-door’s stairs. I’m zooming in, before I have time to reconsider - Into the stretch of navy against the flex of their arms, the rose flush of their foreheads, the tan swath of smooth stomach revealed each time they lift their arms. And then ... Shit. 

I drop the binoculars onto the floor, my body following swiftly behind them. Because, on the roof of the house, there’s a boy pointing a telescope directly at me. Fucking Hell. How long has he even been there?

I risk a glance over the top of my windowsill. He’s wearing a tatty purple jumper, and there’s a mess of bronze curls tangled atop his head. Even without the binoculars, I can see that he’s grinning at me. Is he laughing at me, already? Does he know what I was doing? That I was watching the movers? Does he think that I’m ...? He must. Why else would I be ogling them. God. I feel the dread pinching at my throat, and try to tether my mind, so that it doesn’t get away from me again. Maybe he’s just a smiley person. Maybe he thinks I was looking at his clock. That’s equally as plausible, surely? And, I mean, he has a telescope. Dickheads don’t tend to have telescopes, do they?

Tugging at the ends of my hair, I stand. When he sees me he waves, but before I have a chance to reciprocate, he’s reaching into his pocket, drawing his arms backwards, and lobbing something straight at me. (Maybe he is a dickhead, after all). 

On reflex, I stick out my hand. The unknown object slapping hard against my skin, as I close my fingers around it. 

“Nice catch!” He yells. His voice deep and bright, with a definite Northern tinge. I decide that I like it. It suits him. 

But, I don’t know what to say back. So, I don’t. Instead, I examine his potentially dangerous ‘gift’ - Spinning the rock around in the palm of my hand. It’s small (About the size of a pound coin) and covered in irregular lightening-like cracks. What am I supposed to do with it? Do I throw it back? Why did he even throw it at me, in the first place? I don’t know, but I slip it into my back pocket for safe-keeping, anyway. 

When I look back at him, hoping for some kind of explanation, he’s turned himself back towards the sky. Too focused on looking through his telescope to notice me. Which, to be honest, is odd. I mean, it’s daytime. What could he possibly be looking at? 

Even though I’m curious, I don’t stick around to find out. I’m worryingly off-kilter, and I need to rebalance. I hadn’t prepared myself for meeting a new person. I wasn’t ready. And so, I run to the place that I know best, to recuperate - The Art Institute. Where I can carry out further recon on the studio. 

-------------------

It was a good, productive sketch session. Nobody caught me peeping through the window, and I was able to get a few decent body references down. But … I don’t feel my usual post-art calm. My mind is still racing (Although, with a different genre of thought than earlier). 

Every over time I have visited, the models have been women. Posing demurely, with a bowl of fruit or silks. Arms placed, to partially protect their modesty. I’m used to that. I’m prepared for that. But today … it was a bloke. 

I don’t have a problem with that (Not really). There’s nothing wrong with blokes. And there’s nothing wrong with naked blokes, either. I’m mature enough to handle that. A body is a body. A sketch is a sketch. And I’m an artist first, queer person second. I just … hadn’t expected it. And I don’t like to be caught off guard. So, I’m feeling slightly rattled. I just need to get home, and get back to normality. To safe things - Like a beach scene, or a self-portrait. Familiar things. No more surprises.

And yet, a few steps into my walk back home, I see the guy from the roof leaning against a nearby tree, the same lopsided-grin aimed over at me. I blink, confirming his existence, and then he’s talking. Stood, barely 3 metres in front of me, in the dirt. 

“How was class?” 

He says it like it isn’t the strangest thing in the world that he’s here, with me, where he really has no reason to be. Like it isn’t only just slightly beaten in its absurdity by me, sketching propped-up on a wall outside, rather than inside, the studio. Like we aren’t complete strangers (Because, no matter how much he may be smiling at me, we don’t even know each other's names yet).

‘Yeah, sorry, I kinda’ followed you. I wanted to check out the woods, but I wasn’t sure of the way. So … I just tagged along. Figured you wouldn’t mind. Don’t worry though, I wasn’t watching you the whole time. I was busy with my own stuff.” 

He points to an open suitcase filled to the brim with ... rocks? As if that’s normal. 

“My meteorite bag’s all packed.”

I nod like that explains something, but it really doesn’t. Meteorites? I thought those were in the sky, not on the ground. And what does that even mean? He just carries around pieces of infinity. For what?

I look at him more closely, studying his face for any sign of disingenuity. For any sign that he’s just having me on. But I find nothing. Nothing … bad, anyway. Just a deep dimple accompanying his crooked smile, and miles of tawny skin, speckled with moles. He exists in shades of orange and gold. He’s the sun. And I can’t look away.

“Stare much?” 

I drop my gaze, embarrassed - Staring down at his scuffed Nikes, as my neck prickles with heat. I don’t talk. What am I even supposed to say to that? Yes? 

“Well ... you’re probably just used to it from staring at that bloke for so long. You know … for your drawing.” I look up - Grey meeting blue. He’s eyeing my pad curiously. “He was naked?” He breathes in as he says it, like the words stole his oxygen. It makes my stomach plummet, but I try to keep my face calm. I think about him watching me, watching the movers. How he watched me, watching the model. He must know. And ... I don’t know how I feel about that, just yet. 

He looks down at my pad again. I don’t understand why. Does he want me to show him the drawings of the model bloke? It seems like he does. And some disturbed part of me wants to. But I doubt it. ‘Hey stranger, wanna’ see how I draw dicks?’ said no sane person ever. My stomach twists tight, and I’m out of control - My brain hazy amongst the moment’s tension.

“Look, man,” he sighs, half-smiling as he scrubs at the back of his neck. “I legit’ have no idea how to get home. I tried, but I just ended up back here. I’ve been waiting for you to lead the way. You don’t mind do you?”

I don’t think I mind. Do I? I don’t know. I shake my head, anyway, and point him in the right direction. 

-------------------

It’s a long way home, and we walk the majority of it in silence (Well, near-silence. The bumping of his suitcase creating a constant accompaniment to our steps). I try and resist the urge to look back at him. The urge to ask him all of my ‘Why?’s - Why did you follow me? Why are you still following me? Why are you collecting meteorites? Why were you looking at the stars in daylight? Why were you looking at me in the daylight? It would only make me more muddled. So, rather than relent, I take out my invisible brushes and start to paint behind my eyes. 

And, after a while, I feel myself settling back into my skin. The dancing trees and setting sun relaxing me, in spite of the moment’s unsteadiness. Or ... maybe it was him. He’s an alarmingly relaxed person (I mean, I don’t know anybody else who would just follow a stranger around, with zero self-consciousness), so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had some sort of ‘Realm of Calm’ thing going on around him. 

When we emerge from the woods, returning to our familiar concrete-laden pavements, he spins around and jumps in front of me. Ecstatic. 

“Holy shit! That is like ... the longest I’ve ever gone without talking in my life! I was holding my breath just trying to keep the words in. How do you even do that? Are you always like this?”

He’s a mile a minute, and I’m lagging behind.

“Like what?”

And then he’s laughing at me. I can tell that he’s a person who laughs a lot, from the way he lets it take him over so easily - His whole being lightening up, as the sides of his eyes crinkle, joyfully. But it’s alright, I don’t mind. It’s not a mean laugh. It just makes me feel a little bit fizzy inside (In a good way. I think). 

“Dude! Are you kidding? You do know those are the first words you’ve said all day, right?”

I didn’t, actually. But I don’t tell him that. He’d probably just think that I’m more strange than he, no doubt, already does. 

He’s properly cracking up now (Although, I don’t know what, exactly, I did that was quite so funny). “And then you’re all just like ‘What?’”. </p>

He makes an absolutely atrocious attempt at imitating my accent (Which leaves him sounding like some kind of drunken Prince Charles impersonator), and before I can stop it, I’m laughing outright, alongside him. Both of us hunched-over cackling, wholeheartedly, probably looking more than a little mad. 

Once we’ve calmed down, he starts staring at my pad again. Jesus Christ. I really wish he wouldn’t. I’m not going to show him my sketches. Not even if he begs. I’d never survive the embarrassment.

“So ... lemme’ guess. You do most of your talking in there?” He points down at my pad, and I feel the tips of my ears flood scarlet. 

“Yeah. Something like that.” My voice comes out mumbled and gruff. I didn’t mean for it to. He probably thinks I did it on purpose, though. 

He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured.

“I paint in my head sometimes,” I blurt. Dumb. So unbelievably dumb. “That’s why I was so quiet, I was painting.”

“Oh that’s cool. Saves paper, I suppose. Better for the trees, and that.” Stalling. He’s stalling. I’ve made it weird. I always make it weird. “So ... were you painting anything specific?”

“You.” Oh, fucking hell! I’ve ruined it - I’ve smeared on that last glob of un-erasable acrylic and ruined the painting. I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t even mean to say it, it just ... popped out. And now he’s stood, gawping, eyes wide and face flushed. I’ve embarrassed him. I’ve gone and dumped all my greedy keenness on him, completely uninvited, and now he’s drowning in it.

Everything feels tight. The air, suddenly too humid to swallow. I’m gasping - Waves of breath crashing, loudly, in my ears. Panic. I’m panicking. I need to - I have to go.

So, for the second time today, I run. Spinning on my heels and darting back towards my house, without as much as a ‘Goodbye”. Away from him. Away from humiliation. Back to my room, where I pull the blinds shut and open up my pad - Briskly skipping over today’s work. A blank page. A fresh start. I really am no good at talking the normal way.

[firstdegreefangirl]

Taking Care of the Bandage

Let the record show that this is almost entirely @stargazerdaisy‘s fault. I pitched her ONE IDEA, she asked a follow up question, and then two hours later I put the finishing touches on this. 

Pairing: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen (The Rookie)

Word Count: 1.5k 

Original Pub Date: 12 March 2020

Read here on Ao3

Tim comes around the corner, exiting the locker room, and collides with Jackson.  

“Sorry, excuse me, Officer Bradford!” The younger officer jumps back and Tim fights the urge to roll his eyes. The latest class of rookies has been cut loose almost a month, and he’s shown no signs of cutting back on the brownnosing.

“Watch it, West. It’s not like I’m gonna shoot you for bumping into me.” He holds his hands up and waits for Jackson to steady himself while his mind starts making rapid-fire connections.

He’s riding the desk today, a so-called “reward” for making a high-profile arrest the week before, as if he’s not spending the shift bored out of his mind. Lucy and Jackson are partnered together since they’re off training, but they shouldn’t be back off the streets for a few more hours, at least.

“What’re you doing here, anyway?” He furrows his brow as he tries to figure out what could have the two of them at the station and not held up in booking.  

“Oh, um.” Jackson at least has the decency to look chastised as he shuffles back a little further and explains. “We were chasing a burglary suspect and he ran – obviously – so I circled the block to head him off while Lucy took the foot pursuit and well, she, uh, she was trying to keep track of him on the sidewalk and wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and she fell--”  

Tim’s heart drops to his stomach and his field of vision narrows.  

She fell.  

Before he can stop himself, he’s imagining the worst. Lucy, back in a hospital bed like she was four months ago, but this time with a broken leg. Hitting her head on the sidewalk as she goes down, sustaining a concussion. Probably one with lasting effects. Stumbling and bumping into a gang member, who turns around and shoots her for “dissing” him.  

She fell.

“Where is she?” His voice is cold, carefully constructed to be void of any of the emotions racing through his mind. If anything, he sounds angry. And if the look on Jackson’s face is anything to go by, he’s probably trying to defend himself for failing to protect his partner. But Tim isn’t listening to his excuses. There will be time for that later, when he’s seen for himself how bad the damage is.  

To his career. The damage to his career as a TO, a sergeant when the time is right. But when word inevitably gets out that he couldn’t even train her well enough to survive her first month off the leash, that’s it. He’ll be off of every promotion list, every training detail, every special assignment for the rest of his time with the LAPD.  

“Where. Is. She?” Jackson still hasn’t answered his question, so he steps closer and drops his voice to a low growl.  

Jackson’s eyes go wide as he leans away. And Tim can’t be sure, but it sounds like his voice cracks as he answers.  

“R-roll call room. She’s in the roll call room.”  

“Thanks.” Tim shoves past Jackson and hurries down the hall.  

The roll call room? She’s at the station? She’s got a serious injury and Jackson didn’t take her to the hospital? Didn’t call for a bus? He just brought her here and dropped her in the roll call room, of all places?

Lucy startles as the door slams open, bouncing off the wall. Tim strides in, the anger clear in the creases between his brows, but stops halfway across the room and stares intensely at Lucy.

“What?” She throws her hands up and hisses when the motion irritates her injury, but otherwise doesn’t move from her spot half-seated on the end of one of the tables, one foot holding her balance on the ground.  

Tim takes another step forward and Lucy freezes, bandage still in her hand. He drops his gaze to stare at the angry red scrape down the length of her forearm, a few rivulets of blood trickling back toward her elbow.  

“What’d you do to yourself, Boot?” He folds his arms, and Lucy stiffens at the nickname – she's not his boot anymore, not anybody’s boot.

“We were chasing a suspect and … I tripped.” Lucy looks down, dropping the hand holding the opened bandage to rest on her knee.  

“See? This is why you shouldn’t have argued with me about wearing long sleeves. If your arms had been covered, you wouldn’t be in this mess.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please just at least tell me you got the perp.”  

Lucy hesitates before she responds, turning her head away from him.

“Jackson made it around the block and headed him off in the car. He’s, ah, down in booking right now.”  

“You didn’t even catch the guy.” Tim laughs dryly. “God, who trained you?”  

“That would be you.” She senses the shift in his mood and plays along, cracking a joke and a small smile. Her injured arm brushes against her duty belt and she winces.

“Damn. You’re right.” He steps closer, and Lucy could be mistaken, but she thinks his expression softens a little bit. “I’ll have to have a serious talking-to with myself about making sure my rookies are field-ready. Or at least smart enough not to drag their road rash along their uniforms. Seriously, Chen, if you’re going to hurt yourself on duty, at least do something about it. Give that here.”  

He takes the bandage from her and reaches out to grab her wrist.

Lucy isn’t sure what she was expecting, but no amount of police training could have prepared her for how gently Tim’s fingers circle her arm, carefully lifting it up to examine the scrapes.  

“You wash this out with anything? Alcohol wipe?” She nods, and he looks a little closer, pressing harder over her pulse point. “Looks good. Let’s get the fresh blood wiped off, patch you back up. Crime doesn’t stop because you got a little scratch.”  

She chuckles while he reaches behind her to grab another wet wipe from the first aid kit, but it turns to a whimper when he presses it to the open wound.

“Hush, Boot. You’ve been through worse.” He tacks a second sentence on quickly, almost like he can tell that he’s misstepped. “Hell, I’ve put you through worse. No way this tops pushups at red lights.” But she notices that his touch his softer, the cool wipe warming beneath his fingers. “Almost done, just gotta get the last of the smears.”  

The wipe disappears from her arm just as Tim finishes speaking, but Lucy doesn’t relax until he picks up the bandage and sticks it to her skin, covering the worst of the road rash. He presses the edges, making sure it’s sealed, but doesn’t let go of her arm.  

His hand is warm, and it’s the first thing she notices, the way she can feel the press of each individual finger where it’s settled against her arm, even through the bandage.  

He’s looking at her, but it’s not an expression she recognizes. There’s no aggression behind his eyes, no mirth. It almost reminds her of the way he looked at Isabel that first day they were on patrol together, but he doesn’t look sad now like he did then.  

If Tim Bradford were the kind of guy who could feel wist – whatever that is – she’d think he looked wistful. As it is, he’s staring at her arm, until he lifts his chin to look her in the eye.  

“See? It’s not that hard to put a bandage on.” The hand wrapped around her wrist squeezes softly, and he opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but her radio crackles to life before he can get the words out.

“Seven-Adam-13, respond to non-injury motor vehicle accident at 83rd and Hartford.”  

“Seven-Adam-13, responding.” Jackson’s voice comes through her walkie next, and it breaks the tension between them. All at once, he pulls his hands away and stands up.  

“Well, I’ll let you catch back up with West. Enjoy the streets, Boot. Some of us are stuck behind a desk all day.”

She nods and rises as well, heading for the door. But just as she reaches for the handle, Tim calls after her.

“Oh, and Lucy?” She turns around. “Watch where you’re going this time. I don’t train rookies to get hurt twice in the same day.”  

She smiles at him and opens the door.  

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you later, Tim.”  

And that does something unexpected to him – his first name on her tongue puts something in his chest, something warm and comfortable, the sort of thing that will make the rest of his day at the desk more bearable.

After all, if he’d have been on patrol today, who’d have taken care of the bandage?

[rose-mori]

alright!! ♥︎ could i get a bigby x fem! reader fic, however the reader themselves is a “mutt monster”? (very much so like how Jersey can shift into the Jersey Devil) and Bigby finds this out through following her around and kind of approaching it like “Oh, so this is what goes on during your freetime?” - @monstercoffin

The first request I got! I kind of went in a different direction and the type of being the reader is was kept vague but I hope this entertains nevertheless! Thank you for your patience I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I should really be heading out now” She stares at the office exit from her seat in front of Bigby’s desk before facing him again. Bigby looks up from his paperwork and frowns as he notices not only the way her frequent glances at the door hold a sense of restrained longing but also the way her leg is bouncing anxiously and how she’s constantly shifting in her seat uncomfortably, not to mention the longer she’s seated there the more shallow her breathing seems to get. He’d never known her to be an overly anxious person before but ever since they’ve been spending more time together he’s noticed she tends to get into an uncomfortable and almost panicked state nearing the end of the day. He’s asked her about it before but she always rushes off with a flimsy excuse. When she starts digging her nails into the arm rests of her chair he stops trying to assess her and decides he won’t let her get away without an explanation this time.

“Are you in some sort of trouble I don’t know about?” With his brows knitted, eyes full of concern, and his frame leaning towards her as he was already slouched over his paperwork, his gaze holds an intensity that she isn’t equipped to deal with at the moment.

“No! Of course not I just- It’s really getting late and I don’t want Snow to come in and get on my case about distracting you or how I-“

“We both know Snow is gone for the night and that doesn’t explain why you acted like this all the other times.” He sighs as he gets up out of his chair and walks over to the other side of the desk. Crossing his arms and leaning against the desk he examines her further. She can’t make eye contact with him for more than a second and her body language suggests that she’s experiencing physical discomfort. She realizes that he’s analyzing her and gets up quickly, causing Bigby’s eyes to widen and then furrow his brow in confusion and frustration. “When are you gonna stop keeping me in the dark?”

She can tell he’s starting to feel hurt. She can hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. ‘Just tell him it’s not that big of a deal really’ one side of her thinks but the other reminds her that Snow has been really cracking down on Fables whose true forms aren’t that of a human, monitoring them closer than ever before and sending them to the farm at the slightest infraction. She understands why Snow is doing it but there must be a less intrusive and stressful way of going about that right? Hiding her true form from Bigby felt wrong. She feels a deep pit in her stomach whenever she has to stammer some lame excuse out and watch him get continuously more suspicious but what is she supposed to do? If Bigby knows then he’s put in a compromising situation, he either keeps it from Snow or informs her, and that’s a burden she doesn’t want to place on him.

He notices her contemplating and softens his gaze. “Please, trust me.” He says earnestly. Her heart almost stops.

“It’s nothing really. It’s just a personal matter.” That’s not enough for him to relent and she sighs. “Look, I can assure you I’m not in any danger whatsoever otherwise I would tell you right away okay?” Bigby pauses for a bit at this.

“Fine”

She sighs in relief.

“I’m still not happy with you keeping things from me.” He makes his way back behind his desk.

“I know I know it’s just embarrassing and not something I want to talk about is all.” She gets up and gives him an apologetic look. Bigby just hums in response. “Anyway I should probably get going now, it’s getting pretty late.” She waves as she rushes out, leaving Bigby in the dark yet again.

————

————

It’s been another quiet day in Fabletown. Bigby finds it odd but not unwelcome, at least not completely. Contrary to popular belief, Bigby did not get to find time for himself during rare times of peace, instead he has to go through all the paperwork he otherwise can’t get to due to being too busy trying to either talk or knock some sense into the residents that tend to not listen, depending on how hostile they are. However, it seems Snow has a touch to rival that of King Midas’ when it comes to keeping people in line which leads Bigby to where he is now. Just doing paperwork.

His admiration for Snow’s abilities is slowly starting to turn to annoyance with every file. Thinking back on it, this was a majority of what Bigby did before everything with The Crooked Man. Perhaps the constant action during that time has lessened his patience for the norm. To make things even less interesting, (Y/N) is not here today. Snow advised her to not come since there really wasn’t much for her to assist with after she spent the last week finishing organizing all the paperwork to make it easier for Bigby to go through. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can’t stop his mind from trying to figure out what she’s hiding. Leave it to her to make him lose focus, although he wishes it wasn’t because he was worried.

As if on cue he catches her scent, and decides that he could use a breath of fresh air and some sun. She’s a few blocks away, that’s a good distance for a walk.

~~~~~~

~~~~~~

Her scent led him to a bar, and a small one at that. He’s heard of it before, it’s gotten popular in the short amount of time it’s been open. With all the talk about this place it definitely takes Bigby by surprise when he sees how little the maximum capacity of the place probably is and further more the lack of people there. Just one glance around the room and he can’t see her but her scent is strong. There’s no denying she’s here somewhere. The few patrons that are there seem awfully wary of him. He can’t pinpoint if it’s just them reacting to him normally or if there’s something they’re hiding. A terrible thought flashes through his mind and he holds back a scowl. He can’t afford to jump to conclusions, and it seemed genuine when she said she wasn’t in trouble. Bigby calms himself down before taking a seat in front of the barkeep. “Small place you got here.”

“Smaller the place the lower the rent.” The man says. No offer for a drink, the usual for most places that want Bigby to leave as soon as possible.

“It’s funny. I’ve heard so much about this place that I expected there to be customers.” Bigby looks around the almost empty room to emphasize his point. The barkeep scoffs.

“If you want a more lively atmosphere I’m sure you can find another place with one after you fuck right off.” He turns his back on Bigby.

“Haven’t heard that one before.” Unamused, Bigby looks at the bookshelf against the wall. It looked out of place in what was probably the smallest dive bar Bigby had ever seen. “Why have a bookshelf in a place like this?”

“Christ, is there something wrong with having a bit of decoration?” The barkeep says with a lot more venom than before and now Bigby knows he’s probably onto something if that struck such a nerve. He gets off the stool and make his way towards the bookshelf.

“I don’t look too much into interior design myself but I think the place would probably seem a lot bigger if you didn’t have this taking up so much space.” As he inspects it he notices how dusty most of the books are, all except one. He rolls his eyes. “Really?” He mutters under his breath.

“H-Hey, what’re you doing?”

Bigby smirks as he looks back at the barkeep. “This is the type of shit Mundies come up with in mystery novels. You could’ve at least hidden it with a spell and make me work for it a little, maybe even invested in a duster.” He turns back to the bookcase and pulls the book, which turns out to be a lever. The bookcase moves and opens up a much more lively bar filled with creatures of all sorts. “So this is why everyone’s coming here.” He walks in and ignores all the shocked patrons. There’s not a single human looking person in there but her scent is undeniable.

“Bigby?!” He hears a familiar voice behind him and turns around to be met with something that doesn’t match his image of who the voice belongs to.

“Uhh? (Y/N)?” He says with cautious confusion.

“Why are you here?” She asks clearly upset and embarrassed. Not only is her cover blown with him but everyone in the establishment is staring them down.

“I uh-“ Now it’s Bigby’s turn to be embarrassed. He doesn’t really have a reason to be here other than tracking her down. (Y/N) groans before he can answer.

“I can’t believe this, let’s go outside.” She transforms back into her human form before taking his arm and leaving the building.

————

————

“So that’s why you’ve been running off?” He walks closely next to her on the sidewalk heading back to the offices.

“If I’m in this form for too long I get so uncomfortable to the point that I can’t stand it. I don’t know how you manage Bigby.” She sighs. Bigby glances down at her before shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out a pack of Huff n’ Puffs.

“You should’ve told me.” He says with a cigarette between his lips. He puts his pack away and grabs his lighter.

“I didn’t want to put you in a position where you’d be withholding something from Snow that she would want to know about.” She frowns and keeps her gaze at her feet.

“I appreciate the sentiment but I’d prefer you didn’t keep secrets from me, I worry for you.” Bigby snaps his lighter closed and shoves it back in his pocket. She blushes and turns her head away from him.

“Well lucky for us that’s the only thing I wasn’t being honest about.” (Y/N) looks back at him with a serious expression. “Please don’t tell Snow.” Bigby frowns and she starts getting apprehensive. She turns in front of him and stops him, she looks up at him with pleading eyes and grips his shirt. “I can’t afford glamour to help make keeping this form less straining and I know once she hears how hard it is for me to keep my form for long she’ll keep an extra watchful eye on me and I wouldn’t be able to stand that.”

Bigby stares down at her wide eyed as she pleads her case. When she’s finished, he tosses his cigarette to hold her by her shoulders and calm her down. “I won’t tell Snow I promise.” (Y/N) immediately sighs a breath of relief and releases all the tension in her body and her grip on his shirt.

“Thank you Bigby.” She smiles up at him sweetly, catching him off guard yet again. He uncomfortably adjusts his collar before putting a hand on her back and turning her around to continue walking.

“Don’t mention it. Besides, now I know we have a lot more in common.”

[lightsburnbrite]

Things We Do for Love: Part 4

Third part to Such a Thrill and The Devil is in the Details 

Watching Karina walk down the steps with Elsa next to her and a slightly smaller version of the same dog trying to find her footing behind, Leon couldn't help but to smile. He stepped out of his car and immediately embraced Karina as soon as she was within reach. He would have stayed that way longer except Elsa nudged her way in-between them and promptly laid herself at Leon's feet for a belly rub.

"She's missed you." Karina smiled too as she watched them interact. It only lasted a moment before Ember decided to insert herself into the mix as well. "Ok, girls, let's give him some space."

Leon straightened himself and leaned in to quickly kiss Karina's forehead. "It's ok, Maus. Let's go home."

They were both silent on the way home, Leon attempting to read Karina's mood and Karina simply gazing out the window, her homesickness melting away. As Leon took Karina's bags, he could feel her eyes on him as he placed them in the bedroom. When he came back out, he wrapped his arms around Karina and they stood there for a moment. 

Closing her eyes,  Karina sighed as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Leon, there's something I need to tell you."

Leon felt himself stiffen, her tone was wary and now he was wonder what she would be nervous to tell him. "Yeah?"

"I…" She inhaled and pressed her lips together, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "Before I left last time, I asked my lawyer to suspend the divorce proceedings."

Leon searched her face for a moment as if he was trying to determine is she was playing some elaborate trick on him. "What does that mean? Are we still married?"

"Yes, essentially." She bit down on her lip as she took as step back. "I can either then give the go ahead to proceed or I can ask for it to be dismissed."

Leon nodded. "What do I need to do to convince you-"

"I think we should go to couples therapy…to make sure we're on the same page and it's not just nostalgia or whatever." She dabbed at the corner of her eye with her thumb. "Not that I don't think we're compatible-"

With a reassuring smile, Leon took hold of her hands. "Maus, listen to me, whatever you want, I'll do it."

"But it's not your fault, Leon." Karina could feel a lump forming in her throat. "I need to apologize to you, I overreacted and didn't even give you a chance to speak."

He gave her the chance to finish her thought and while he probably would have taken the blame just to make her happy, he wasn't going to disagree that Karina's unilateral decision to leave upset him the most. "So let me speak now."

Karina nodded, giving his hands the slightest squeeze.

"I wish you would have given me a chance to think about things before you took off." Leon ran his thumb over her knuckles hoping it came across at the loving gesture he meant. "But I also realize that your family just disowned you and you were overwhelmed…"

Now Leon swallowed hard. "Karina, you mean the world to me and my biggest regret is that I wasn't able to be there for you. But you do this thing where you just shut down and wall yourself off."

Karina was about to pull away from him but she realized that she'd be doing exactly what he had just said. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize, I can't imagine how painful it was…and still is for you." Leon frowned, deciding not to continue with his train of thought. "Look, it's getting late. Why don't we order some food and get you settled."

Karina poked around the carton of Pad Thai with her chop sticks while she listened to what Leon had been up to lately. When the conversation reached a natural lull, she spoke up. "Dr. Kattan said she would be willing to see both of us if you're comfortable with that."

"Of course." Leon nodded. "I told you I'd agree to do counseling."

Putting her food down, Karina rubbed her eyes. "Right, what I'm saying is, do you want to use Dr. Kattan or would you prefer someone completely new to both of us?"

"She knows you, she knows our history." He shrugged as he ate another dumpling. "It makes sense to me that we'd see her."

Pressing her lips together, Karina nodded. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Leon looked back at her, trying to figure out where she was coming from. "Do what? The therapy?"

"Are you sure you want to be married to me?" Karina wrapped her arms around herself but didn't move away from Leon. "I'm…a mess right now and I have no idea when I'm going to be back to normal. I don't know when I'm going to want to have sex again and you don't deserve to have to wait it out."

Inching himself closer, Leon wrapped his arms around Karina's shoulders and gave her a squeeze before holding her against his chest. "Karina, I love you and I'll wait as long as you need me to, I just want you to want to be my wife again."

He felt Karina sigh and her body almost melted into his. It was the first time that he had felt her relax since before this whole ordeal had started. "Are you glad to be back?"

"I've missed it here, I've missed hearing my own language, and I missed you." She let out a short laugh. "I told myself constantly that this, moving away, was for the best and that you needed someone different but I missed you."

Leon smiled. "You know I've missed you, Mausi."

"But Mathea was right there to help you get over me, right?" Karina frowned, choosing to examine her take out instead of looking at him. She knew she should not have brought up his relationship during their break up but she couldn’t stop herself.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Leon shrugged. "She came around as soon as you left…I was lonely and depressed because you were gone and she was convenient. What about the hipster Prince Charming?"

The tone of his question, earnest with just a bit of bite, made Karina smile. She was happy that he was willing to point out her hypocrisy. "I accidentally stepped on his foot getting off the subway and it was a lust at first sight moment but we never really clicked. Cosmo is a really sweet guy and he deserves someone better."

Leon did his best to hide his reaction. While Karina was never boastful or pretentious, lately she had been leaning towards self disparaging and it pained him to hear her think so little of herself. He wanted to put a stop to it, but he also knew that right now, she probably wasn't in the right frame of mind for his cheerleading.

"Any regrets?" Leon raised an eyebrow, attempting not to appear too hopeful.

Karina pursed her lips and shrugged. "Career wise, my time at AGO looks good and I got Ember but I also feel like I wasted a year and it feels like I'm even more of a wreck than when I left…I think I had valid reasons for leaving but I probably should have given myself more time to process things before deciding to leave."

Leon continued his internal monologue, deciding it wasn't his place to say anything aloud. Instead, he nodded and took another bite. "Makes sense."

As much as she tried, Karina couldn't suppress a yawn. "I think I'm just going to go lay down if that's ok."

"Yeah, yeah." He stood. "Let me just get a few things so I won't bother you if you fall asleep before I'm ready to."

Karina followed Leon into the bedroom, but waited in the doorway. Leon went to grab his pillow when Karina stopped him. "You can stay. I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed."

"Do you want me to stay?" He stopped in mid-step, waiting for her response.

"Would you?" Before she even realized what she was doing, Karina had pouted her lips just slightly. "Do you mind?"

Shaking his head, Leon felt the corner of his mouth lift up in a smile. "Not at all. I'm gonna go clean up, just give me a minute."

When Leon came back in to the bedroom, Karina was sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair and pulling it up off her neck. It made him smile to see that she had gone to her regular side, like they hadn't been apart for so long.  

Leon climbed into bed and did his best to stay completely on his side. Karina was working on getting herself situated so he wasn't surprised that she occasionally brushed against him. Finally, she let out a life huff of frustration before tucking herself against his side, resting her left leg between his and draping her arm over his waist. 

"Better?" Leon smiled as he began stroking her hair.

Letting out a contented sigh, Karina nodded. "Sorry, I couldn't get comfortable."

"I like this better anyway." Kissing her on the top of her head, Leon smiled.

Karina woke up sometime in the very early hours of the morning. Gingerly, she eased onto her back, attempting to not wake Leon. 

Resting her head on his shoulder, Karina gently traced the contours of his stomach with her fingers. Still asleep, Leon let out a little moan as she circled his navel with her finger. It wasn't initially apparent to Karina, but he had obviously gained a noticeable amount of muscle mass since she had last seen him out of his clothes.

Karina silently laughed at herself and her somewhat sordid interest in Leon's new physique and went to move her hand away. In doing so, she brushed up against his groin only to find that Leon had an erection. Biting her lip, Karina slipped her hand under the waistband of his underwear and gently took hold of him. Ever so slowly, she drug her fingers up and down his shaft.

"What are you doing, Maus?" There was humor laced in the tone of Leon's voice, which was still heavy with sleep.

Looking up at him, Karina smiled. "It looked like you could use some help."

"You gonna keep going?" Leon bit his lip as he started to rub her back. Once Karina started up again, he closed his eyes, relishing her attention. The only thing that would have made it better, he thought, was if she was going to allow him to reciprocate. Clenching his jaw, Leon let out a strangled groan as he felt himself release. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath when he felt Karina kiss him on the cheek. Next thing he knew, she was using a washcloth to clean him up.

"Better?" She smiled sweetly at him, repeating his sentiments from earlier.

"God, Maus," Leon sighed as he readjusted his underwear and pulled Karina closer to him. "I've missed you so much."

She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. "I know, sir. I've missed you, too." 

Karina waited until she knew Leon was asleep before opening her eyes again. She contemplated getting up and wandering around or scrolling aimlessly on her phone, but she didn't really have the energy to do either. Instead, she lay in bed, listening to Leon breathing steadily next to her, and stared at the ceiling until she could see the first few signs of dawn. She got up and dressed, taking the dogs out before making some coffee. 

Leon eventually meandered in but stopped just short of Karina. "I want to hug you, is that ok?"

Instead on answering, Karina closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Did you sleep ok?" Resting his head against hers, Leon gently rocked them from side to side.

Karina nodded and sighed, giving her self a few moments to gather her thoughts. "If it works for you, Dr. Kattan has an opening this afternoon."

"Oh, ok." Leon kissed the top of her head before turning his attention to the coffee. "Yeah, sure."

Leon wondered if Karina would mention anything about last night but she was acting as though she hadn’t jerked him off in the middle of the night. He frowned slightly, understanding that she needed time, but wondering if their time together would continue to be filled with mixed signals.  

Once Leon had finished his training, he stopped by the apartment and picked Karina up. "So…what happens in therapy exactly?"

"Lots of talking." Karina let out a yawn. "Sometimes she gives me stuff to do before our next session but mainly lots of talking."

"Ok." Leon nodded as if he was assuring himself. "That doesn't sound bad."

Karina smiled back at him. "Babe, you sat I on a few of my sessions, remember?"

"Oh, right!" His face brightened when he remembered how Dr. Kattan had indicated that Karina obviously felt safe with Leon. "That's really not bad, then."

Shaking her head, Karina smiled again. "I mean, it's not meant to be torture. I'd just like a third party to help talk us through some things."

"Ok. Do you need anything before I we leave?" Leon stuck his hands in his pockets to avoid touching her. Karina welcomed his initial hug but he didn't want to assume that she'd be accepting of more contact.

Karina took a step forward and smoothed his hair down while shaking her head. "I'm good, thanks. Let’s go."

[nightlight9]

For the People, I Give Myself to You

Themes: Arranged Marriage; Wedding; Medieval 

Rating: G

Summary: This was never what Derek wanted, never what his parents wanted for any of their children. But this is the best thing that he can do to help the kingdom, and he’s proud that he can support his people in this way. He just hopes, with every fiber of his being, that Prince Stilinski will turn out to be a decent husband.

AO3

----------

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Laura tells him for the forth time since she pushed her way into his room. Derek ignores her, focusing on making sure that his cravat is straight. Smacking at his hands, Laura reaches out to smooth the fabric herself. “I’m serious, Derek. Just say the word and I’ll call the whole thing off.” Despite the quiver in her voice, Derek doesn’t believe her. It’s not that he doubts that she would fight everyone for him if he asked, because he knows his sister better than anyone and knows that she would without hesitating. But this is something that has to happen. For them, and for their people.

“I don’t mind,” he says finally. He can’t even say for sure if he’s being honest. On one hand, this was never what Derek wanted, never what his parents wanted for any of their children. On the other hand, this is the best thing that he can do to help the kingdom, and he’s proud that he can support his people in this way.

Pulling away from Laura so that he doesn’t have to see how her lips pinch together, Derek turns and examines himself in the mirror. Even with the unease making his stomach clench, Derek can admit that he looks good. The suit he’s wearing was designed and created specifically for this moment, its fabric rich and new brushing against his skin. The color, a deep emerald detailed with silver thread, makes his eyes startlingly bright. Puffing out his chest, Derek hazards a smile. These are his families colors and he will wear them with pride.

Laura catches his gaze in the mirror. “You look really good, Der,” she says finally, tucking her chin against his shoulder. Her voice is soft and tinged with a sadness that Derek understands all too well. Without her having to say it, Derek knows that Laura is thinking about their parents, about how they should be here. His own sadness mirrors hers perfectly, grief born from losing them so recently and so unexpectedly. He wishes, more than anything, that they were here. Their father, a boisterous man with a bright smile and brighter heart, would help Derek get ready. His smile would be wide and proud, and he would lighten the mood with his jokes and sincerity. Their mother would be busy making sure that everything was perfectly in place and ready for the ceremony (something that Laura should be doing now instead of staying at Derek’s side). She still would have made time to see him though, adjusting his collar and kissing his cheek gently, tears threatening to ruin her makeup.

Derek likes to think that they both would be proud of him for what he’s doing. At least, he hopes that they would be. Doing this without them is almost harder than doing it at all, which says something considering that Derek is a hopeless romantic who always dreamed of marrying for love. But this is for his family and his people. And there is nothing that Derek loves more than those two things.

Someone knocks on the door, two courteous thwacks before it’s pushed inward, breaking up the moment between the two siblings. Anders sticks his head in, looking apologetic. He had been on the council with their parents, watched Derek and Laura grow into the people they are today, and then pledged allegiance to Laura after their parents were killed. He knows, probably more than most of the council, how hard of a day this is.

“My apologies,” Anders says, stepping just inside the door so that he can bow at them respectfully. Laura tried to break him of that habit years ago, but finally gave up when every effort was met with a smile and more polite bowing. “I hate disrupting your time together, but everything is in place and the guests are waiting.”

Laura’s mouth pinches together. Unable to help it, Derek reaches out and pulls her into a tight hug, not caring if it wrinkles his suit or her gown. When he pulls back, Derek does his best to pretend he doesn’t see the tears gathered at the corner of her lashes as he turns to Anders. Standing straight with his head held high, Derek’s voice doesn’t quiver when he tells him, “Okay. I’m ready.”

Bowing again, Anders turns and leads the siblings out of the room. As soon as the doors fall shut behind them, the guards waiting there take their posts at the end of the party. Derek pays them no mind. Having grown up in the grand manor, he’s used to being tailed by guards. They are as familiar to him as the hallway they’re walking down, and in this moment Derek can’t help but be thankful for their steady presence.

“I will go into the hall first with King Stilinski at my side,” Laura says, her tone that of a queen. “I will thank everyone for gathering here for the occasion, give a small speech to mark the day, and then I will formally introduce you. Once you’ve joined me at the front of the hall, King Stilinski will call for the prince to join us. Then Master Finstock will conduct the ceremony. Afterwards I will give a closing remark, you will walk out with your husband, and everyone will adjourn to the ballroom for dinner and dancing. You need not worry about making a speech yourself; it is not expected of you to do so, even at the reception later. However, you will be called for a dance with the prince. Afterwards, you both may retire whenever you please, though it would be nice if you stayed for a little while to enjoy the party.”

Derek takes a deep breath, ignoring how shaky his exhale is. This is the right thing to do, he reminds himself. It doesn’t mater that he has never met Prince Stilinski before. This is what needs to be done.

Laura reaches out and grips his elbow, pulling him to a halt on the side of the hallway. “Remember what I said earlier,” she says, voice fierce. Her eyes glow inhuman red, a testament to how much she means this. “One word, that’s all I need.”

Inclining his head, Derek smiles. For the first time all day, the smile feels real. “I know. Really Laura, I’m okay. This is what is right, and I am honored to be able to do this for our kingdom.” Your kingdom, a voice in the back of his head reminds him. After today, he will belong to his husband’s kingdom. They will be allies, and Triskelion will always be his home, but he will be moving to Beacon Hills to stand at his husband’s side.

With a sharp nod, Laura releases him and starts walking again. “You will spend two days here before leaving for Beacon Hills, as per the standard custom, but you will stay in the rooms we’ve set up and provided for you and Prince Stilinski in the South wing. Isaac, Boyd and Erica are all going with you, so you needn’t worry about feeling cut off from the pack. I promise that the Stilinski’s understand your condition and have no concerns about allowing them to go with you. And I figured that having your best friends around would help you not to feel so alone.”

“Thank you,” Derek says, watching her from the corner of his eye. “For taking so much care with this.”

She scoffs, “It’s my job Derek,” but he can tell that she’s pleased. They reach the foyer and, straightening her posture, she nods at the guards to open the door. Inside, King Stilinski is waiting by one of the windows. He’s a proud looking man, just touched by age, and his scent is soft and welcoming. When they enter the room, he turns and smiles at them, inclining his head slightly in Laura’s direction before turning his attention to Derek.

“You must be my future son-in-law,” he says, stepping forward to take Derek’s hand. He gives it a strong shake before cupping both of his hands around it in a surprisingly caring way. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Son. I’m looking forward to getting to know you, after this whole circus is over.”

Laura looks around the room, taking in the collection of guards. “King Stilinski, where is the prince?”

The king shakes his head. “Please, call me John. If we’re to be family, it’s best to get the formalities out of the way.”

Laura smiles, a real and genuine expression. John’s easy-going attitude and kind demeanor makes it easy to relax. “John,” she tires it out, smiling wider. “Where is your son?”

“He's finishing getting ready. We-.” He clears his throat, sounding sheepish suddenly. “It might sound a little silly, but in Beacon Hills we have a tradition where the bride and groom, or in this case the groom and groom, don’t see each other until after the ceremony begins. It’s mostly old superstition, but Stiles wanted to keep with the tradition.”

Derek swallows, shifting uncomfortably. He had been hoping that he would have had a few minutes before everything started to meet the man that he was to marry.

John gives him an understanding smile. “I know that that’s less than ideal, but Stiles was adamant about it.”

He sighs. “That’s alright. At least I had a chance to meet you. I’m sure Prince Stilinski and I will have plenty of time to get to know each other after the ceremony.”

John claps him on the back good naturally. “That’s the spirit.”

Anders checks the clock on the wall and clears his throat. “My apologies, your Highnesses, but it’s time. We have to get the ceremony started.”

John rubs his hands together, then drops his arms and straightens his shoulders. “Lead the way,” he inclines his head to Laura, falling into step with her as they follow Anders out of the room. Derek trails after them, trying his best to ignore the knot that’s formed in the pit of his stomach. This is it. He’s about to be married. He can do this.

When they arrive at the entrance to the great hall where the ceremony will take place, John offers Laura his arm. She delicately accepts it, tucking her hands around his elbow. Before they leave him behind, Laura turns to flash her eyes at Derek. “I will see you soon,” she promises.

Derek can feel his own eyes glow gold in response, but he keeps his mouth shut, watching as Laura inclines her head at the guards to open the doors so that they may get started. Then she’s being swept inside, taking John with her amid the applause from the crowd, and Derek is alone with Anders and the guards.

Leaning back against the wall, Derek closes his eyes and does his best to catch his breath. He wishes, more than anything, that one of his friends was here with him. Boyd would give him some good advice and remind him of his station. Erica would smack him upside the head and tell him to stop overthinking everything. And Isaac would curl against him, doing his best to comfort Derek by being close to his pack member.

Boyd had even offered to wait with him, but Derek didn’t want to make him stay behind and miss the ceremony.

“Pardon me sir,” Anders says, stepping up to Derek’s side, effectively breaking Derek from his thoughts. His familiar eyes are kind as he waits for Derek to straighten up from the wall. “If I may be so bold.” He doesn’t finish his sentence though. Instead, he waits until Derek gestures for him to continue before he moves closer and pulls Derek into a tight hug.

For a drawn out moment, Derek doesn’t know how to react. In all of his years knowing Anders, there was only one other moment where he can recall touching him, and that was when Derek’s grandmother died. Anders had been the one to find Derek, who had been hiding since he felt her connection to the pack break off. He had crawled into the back of one of the servant closets, crying to himself as he tried to come to terms with the fact that his beloved grandmother was lost forever. Instead of forcing him to come out and face what had happened, Anders had crawled into the space beside him and pulled Derek into his side, allowing the young boy to sob against his chest until his mother eventually sought him out.

Talia had thanked Anders for taking care of her son, and he had bowed and replied that he was simply doing his duty, as though taking care of a grief stricken Derek was a part of his everyday job description as her advisor. And that had been that.

Now, he hugs Derek close, arms tight across his shoulders. Exhaling, Derek relaxes against him, feeling small once more. The action brings tears to his eyes, and he holds onto Anders tighter. This man was one of his parents’ most trusted companions. He watched Derek grow up, just as they had, helping to guide him on his way when he got lost in all of the noise of royal living.

“You should be proud of yourself,” Anders says finally, pulling away from the hug. He keeps a grip on Derek’s shoulders, holding him at arms length so that he can look him in the eyes. “I have had many privileges granted over the course of my time working for your family. Watching you and your sister grow up has been one of the best though. It has been an honor, watching you become someone who is lead by kindness and cares about his people over everything else. You are smart, and wise beyond your years, and I know without a doubt that Talia and Sebastian would be so very proud of you.”

Tears sting Derek’s eyes. With a small smile, Anders reaches out and brushes a stray tear away before he releases his hold on Derek and steps back. “I know that you are worried about what will happen after all of this unfolds, but I have no doubt that you will thrive in Beacon Hills, just as you have here. You are braver than you believe Derek, never forget that. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” clearing his throat, he bows and moves back in the direction of the door, listening to Laura give her speech inside so that he can send Derek in after his introduction.

Derek is grateful that Laura will have Anders to look after her when he is gone. For all that he seems to be the picture of a respectful advisor and nothing more, it's clear that he cares about the Hale family. Derek is grateful for him. His words have strengthened the resolve that Derek has been feeling about the wedding. Even though it doesn’t make up for the fact that his parents aren’t there, Derek feels better knowing that someone who had known them so well is going to be there to watch him get married in their place.

“Your Highness,” Anders says, turning to look at him with proud, gleaming eyes. “It is time.”

Straightening his shoulders, Derek moves to the entrance of the great hall. Before he steps inside, he turns to Anders and says, “Thank you,” hoping that he understands just how much Derek means that.

Anders smiles and bows deeply. And then Derek takes a deep breath, and passes over the threshold into the hall. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him as he moves down the aisle, but he keeps his own gaze locked on where Laura stands at the front of the crowd waiting for him. When he steps up to her side, she kisses each of his cheeks gently and then moves off to the side. John takes her place beside Derek, shaking his hand and then waiting until Derek has moved to where Finstock is waiting before beginning his own introduction.

He talks about Beacon Hills and what this marriage will mean for both kingdoms, and Derek tries his best to pay attention. This is, after all, going to be his new home. But he gets distracted looking for his friends in the crowd. When he finally finds them amongst the guests, a real smile pulls his lips up. Boyd looks stoic as ever sitting tall and proud at the end of the row they’re in. He meets Derek’s gaze and gives him the slightest of nods before reaching out and taking Erica’s hand. His wife is crying into a handkerchief while simultaneously doing her best not to look like she’s crying. Ignoring what John is saying, Derek raises his eyebrows at her. Subtly she bares her teeth at him, a threat that makes Derek’s smile grow. Beside her, Isaac rolls his eyes at their display, but Derek doesn’t miss the way that he sniffles discreetly to himself.

He’s about to raise his eyebrows at Isaac too, but then a new scent captures his attention. In a room full of people, some of whom are wearing perfumes and oils, the smell of everything is almost overwhelming. But through it all, one scent stands out. Like lightening during a thunderstorm, there’s a power in the scent, an infectious energy that captures Derek’s attention. Tilting his head slightly upwards, Derek takes in the sweet smell of dark chocolate and cinnamon, spicy and warm. And then, Derek sees where it’s coming from.

The doors at the end of the hall have opened once more and Prince Stilinski is striding through, head held high as he moves down the aisle. Derek’s first thought is that he’s the one that smells really nice.

His second thought is that he’s beautiful. His hair is ashy brown in color, and while it is not as dark as Derek’s, it compliments his pale skin perfectly. He’s tall and toned, and, dressed in a deep red suit, he’s the brightest thing in the room. It’s impossible to look away from him. Perhaps the most striking thing though are his eyes, which are a bright bourbon and are so full of life that Derek feels a little drunk just looking at them.

This man is meant to be Derek’s husband? There must be some mistake. Derek doesn’t understand how he isn’t already married and why someone like him agreed to an arranged marriage.

Maybe he has a terrible personality, his brain offers, trying to make sense of the situation. Derek doesn’t have time to dwell on it though, because before he knows it Prince Stilinski is stepping up beside John, allowing his father to kiss his cheeks before taking his place in front of Derek. When he’s settled in place, he smiles at Derek. Helplessly, Derek smiles back.

“Thank you all for coming,” Finstock says, startling Derek enough to make him jump. “We’ve all gathered here today to celebrate the union of two great kingdoms, and I have the honor of joining together Prince Derek Hale of Triskelion and Prince Mieczysław Stilinski of Beacon Hills in glorious matrimony. Some of you may be wondering how it is that I’ve been selected for this important task, and to those people I say-.”

Laura clears her throat, raising her eyebrows expectantly when Finstock looks over at her. The whole thing makes Derek roll his eyes (albeit a little fondly), and Stiles has to reach up to muffle his laughter against his lips when Finstock blushes.

“Right.” He clears his throat. “Prince Derek Sebastian Hale, do you accept the hand of Prince Mieczysław Klaus Stilinski with the gods as witness? Do you promise to devote yourself and your time to him, vowing to follow him as you follow the moon?” Derek can feel his expression twitch. Laura thought that using the traditional vows of Triskelion would be a nice way to connect them to those that came before. Derek didn’t agree with her, and now, hearing the vows, he can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. It’s not that their lycan ancestry is a secret. But this isn’t a ceremony between two werewolves. Prince Stilinski is human. He could never understand the weight of the vow.

Still, it was important to Laura that they follow tradition, and Derek had finally agreed. Besides, these were the same vows that their parents spoke at their wedding, and Derek likes knowing that this is something he can share with them.

Reaching out with shaking fingers, Derek takes Prince Stilinski’s right hand. He holds it delicately while he wraps a piece of red ribbon to symbolize their union around his wrist before letting it go again. Finstock holds out a small bowl filled with blue water blessed by the moon, and Derek dips two fingers into it before taking Prince Stilinski’s left hand. Carefully he rubs a strip of the water across the back of his hand, leaving a pale blue streak as he goes. These two actions have always been a part of the traditional wedding ceremonies in Triskelion, and Prince Stilinski takes everything in stride. He must have done his research beforehand so that he was prepared.

When he’s finished, Derek takes a shining silver ring from Finstock and gently slips it onto Prince Stilinski’s finger. “So I do swear,” he says, keeping his voice even and strong. Before he has a chance to pull his hands away, Prince Stilinski tightens his grip, squeezing gently in an almost reassuring way. When Derek looks up at him in surprise, his smile is radiant.

“Prince Mieczysław Klaus Stilinski,” Finstock booms, breaking whatever spell had Derek captivated, “Do you accept the hand of Prince Derek Sebastian Hale with the gods as witness? Do you promise to devote yourself and your time to him, vowing to remain loyal and true for as long as you shall both live? Do you vow to stand with him, sharing your elations and your woes as equals?”

These are the more familiar, more traditional vows that several of the kingdoms use. Because Prince Stilinski isn’t a werewolf, it only seemed appropriate to use these vows for him. But the rest of the ceremony is the same. With steady hands, he tries the ribbon around Derek’s wrist, his fingers lingering momentarily against his pulse point before moving to the other hand. The water is cool against Derek’s skin, a direct contrast to how hot Prince Stilinski’s fingers are. And then he’s slipping the silver ring onto Derek’s finger.

“With the gods as our witnesses, please kiss and finish this binding.” For a moment, Derek freezes. He had forgotten about the kiss. Luckily, Prince Stilinski seems more confident. Without hesitating, he steps forward into Derek’s space and reaches for his face. Cupping both hands carefully around his jaw, he closes his eyes and brings his lips down gently against Derek’s. As far as kisses go, it is soft and chaste, barely a brush of skin against skin. But still, warmth shoots down Derek’s spine, making his toes tingle with it.

The applause around them is boisterous and filled with joy. Laura steps toward them, smiling big. Only the people closest to her would notice how the smile isn’t quite genuine. “Thank you. We invite all of you to follow us to the ballroom for dinner and dancing to celebrate this occasion.”

With that she holds out her arm once more for John. They both smile as they make their way down the aisle. Derek watches them go for a moment, before he holds his own arm out for Prince Stilinski. “Shall we,” he asks. For the first time since he appeared at he great hall’s doors, the prince looks off balance. “I know a place where we can take a moment to breathe,” Derek offers. He enjoys the way that Prince Stilinski smiles at him, gratitude shining in his bright eyes.

“Then please, lead the way your Highness.”

Tucking their arms together, Derek leads them away from the stage. The applause is still overwhelming, echoing in Derek’s chest as they go. As soon as they exit the great hall, Derek takes a firmer grip on Prince Stilinski’s arm and pulls him down a small corridor leading away from the ballroom. Navigating through the manor is so easy that Derek could do it with his eyes closed if needed, and soon enough he’s tugging them into the library, shutting the doors carefully behind them.

Prince Stilinski looks around appreciatively before settling into one of the large chairs situated off to the side. Looking up at Derek, he smiles. “Hello.”

Absurdly, Derek can feel himself blush. “Hello.”

“I’m sorry that we didn’t have a chance to talk prior to the wedding.”

Shrugging gracelessly, Derek sits down across from him. “The King explained everything to my sister and I, so I understand why you wanted to wait.”

“You can just call him John, you know. The use of official titles is a little unnecessary now that we’re married, wouldn’t you agree?”

There’s something about that that has bothered Derek since he found out about the engagement. He clears his throat. “I don’t-. How do you pronounce your name?” His flush darkens. He can’t look Prince Stilinski in the eye. “I wanted to learn the correct pronunciation before the wedding, but, well, I don't even know if Finstock pronounced it right and-.” He trails off, partly because he doesn’t know how to continue his train of thought and partly because his companion has begun to laugh.

“Oh no, I’ll keep that monstrosity to myself thank you. Hearing it several times today was enough for a lifetime. Please, call me Stiles.”

Derek recalls John calling his son Stiles too, and tries the name out for himself, relieved when it’s much easier to say than his given name. “And you can call me Derek,” he says. “I don’t have a nickname or anything else, but it is a short enough name that-.”

Stiles laughs again, though it isn't a cruel sound. “Thank you, Derek.” His name in Stiles’ mouth sounds new and intimate in a way that makes Derek shiver. He wants to ask why Stiles wasn’t already married, wants to know why he picked Derek of all people. But he keeps those thoughts to himself. They have a reception to get to, after all. They shouldn’t keep the people waiting. “Come on,” he says, climbing out of his chair. “We should get to the reception before my sister sends her guards to come and find us.”

With his luck, Laura would send Erica after them. He can only imagine how that would go.

Reluctantly, Stiles gets to his feet. He seems to hesitate for a moment, the first since Derek has met him, before reaching out and carefully taking Derek’s hand. Warmth spreads from where their skin is pressed together up Derek’s arm. He’s sure that his blush has yet to fade, but at least Stiles looks a little red now too. “I know that we have a lot we need to discuss in terms of this marriage. But, maybe for tonight we can just enjoy the party?”

Derek hadn’t really thought about not enjoying the party, but now with Stiles holding his hand he wonders for the first time whether this marriage might actually work out. Deciding that he’s actually kind of looking forward to seeing where this is going to go, he adjusts their hands to thread their fingers together. Then, feeling brave for the first time all night, he brings Stiles’ hand up to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss against his knuckles.

“Let’s go enjoy our party,” he agrees, only pulling Stiles’ hand far enough away from his mouth that he can speak the words.

Stiles blinks at him, eyes wide and mouth parted. Then he grins, and it's brighter than the sun. “Lead the way.”

[minnochu]

Lustrous (Pt. 17)

Hybrid!Kook x Fem!Reader AU

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Pt 17 | Pt 18 | Pt 19

 Warning: Blood and Violence? LOL somewhat. And a spicy beginning scene :’)

Note: Hey guys! I had this ready like a few days ago but I got busy lol. Sorry for any errors or mistakes I might’ve missed, but hope you guys have a great Thanksgiving week - I have school today till Wed yikes - or week in general if you don’t celebrate that and enjoy!! :’)

Ps!!! I’ll update links tonight maybe 0-0

..

“This is why we never leave it up to the humans to deal with a witch’s dirty work,” Eris sighs, placing the crystal ball on a cushion held by her servant. Shooing them away, she turns towards her bed. Her dark eyes dragged over the male lying in wait on the mattress. 

“Won’t you entertain me Colhen? Who knew that Minerva taught her in secret... that defect is becoming a pain in my ass,” she whispers with a curl of her red painted lips. The length of her porcelain robe brushes along the floor as she steps carefully towards the bed. Crawling onto the mattress, her slender legs shift to take place on either side of the warlock’s hips. Her back curved, bending over his body to press her forehead against his. Colhen’s hand rose to push a lock of her long raven hair behind her ear.

“My apologies, that thing is your daughter,” she hums sarcastically, sitting up to allow his hands to push her robe off her shoulders, “Usually I would have had Minerva and you be punished, but only you I would make an exception for.”

“I have no daughter,” Colhen mutters, lips grazing over the flesh of her shoulder as strands of his messy dark hair brushed over her bare skin.

“Good answer, “ she muses, hands grasping at his cheeks to adorn a kiss to his lips, “Just don’t get too sentimental when I kill her along with that stupid little mutt.”

He didn’t speak any longer, pursing his lips before erasing thoughts of Minerva and his daughter from his mind and indulging in his wife instead.

.

Jungkook’s eyes lowered to your neck, the skin of his cheeks flushing as you squeezed your eyes shut in preparation. You tilted your head to the side but he couldn’t help but hesitate with the way your fingers tightened around his shirt, trembling as you awaited his next movements. The warmth of his breath wafted over the expanse of your exposed neck, the sensation causing you to shiver. 

Eyes softening, his hand raises to cover yours clutching on his right shoulder. The muscles twitch at his touch, to which his thumb grazes soothingly over your knuckles. Turning his head to the right, he exhales as he lifts your hand from his shoulder, bringing the inside of your forearm towards his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, tongue laving over your wrist. Face burning, he gulps down the knot in his throat, guilt weighing down on his shoulders as his mouth opens to reveal his top two fangs. 

“I’m so so sorry.”

A gasp leaves your parted lips, the fingers of your left hand tightening around the fabric of his shirt. The pain is a sharp pinch as his fangs pierce your skin, breeching the walls of the arteries lying underneath. 

Euphoria fills him, nearly drooling at the taste of your blood meeting his tongue. The packages of pork blood had nothing compared to your sweet taste. Eyes falling closed, he savored the liquid, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he ingested more. 

More. More. More. More.

He’d almost forgotten his surroundings until you made a strangled whimper. The initial pain had subsided, but he was beginning to suck your arm dry to the point of it hurting. Fingers releasing his shoulder, you pushed weakly at his chest, “Ju-jungkook, that’s enough.”

Eyes widening, he recoiled immediately, examining your appearance. You gaze back at him tiredly, face slightly pale, breaths still coming out bated. Below, blood trickled from the two holes on your wrist. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” He chanted lowly, voice reaching no more than a whisper. Fingers curl around yours as he lowers his head to roll his tongue over the marks. You watch as the wounds slowly weave back together and heal quickly. Not a scar is left.

His eyes flit upward to regard you softly when you feel a wave of dizziness, exhaustion consuming you. Jungkook catches you without fail as your body succumbs to the events of today. Biting his lip, he can’t help the growing ball of guilt growing in his stomach as he shifted your body in his arms and continued to rush you to the cabin, now invigorated with the help of your blood.

Trees pass as he shoots past each, he finds his way to the back door where Yoongi is waiting for him with Seokjin. The warlock’s face is contorted with worry, a frown at his lips and eyebrows drawn together. Worry reeks from the magician, a scent pungent to only Yoongi with Jungkook blocking his wolf gene. 

Slowing down, the hybrid comes to a halt, sharing a look with the elder wolf.

“Barrier, the Blackwells sent bounty hunters and nearly destroyed the forest… She got hit pretty hard from the explosion, maybe a broken rib or two… I can barely hear her breathing…” He spoke quickly, panic and guilt settling in his golden irises.

Yoongi stopped him, sniffing audibly with a wrinkle of his nose, “You smell like fucking wolfsbane, what the hell happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Seokjin frowns, motioning for the two men to follow after him and into the cabin, “I’ll clean up later, for now… I’ll heal you both.”

The rest of the pack are full of unanswered questions, filing into Jungkook’s room when Seokjin prompts the hybrid to lay you down before ordering him to change out of his soiled clothes. He makes quick work, with glowing palms hovering over your chest, to mend the three broken ribs, others bruised or fractured slightly, and minorly damaged lungs. Your breathing stabilizes and returns to normal soon after, and he places his palms over your neck and ankle to heal the burned skin. Not a scar is left as he finishes and leaves momentarily to grab a necessary item for the cure.

“You drank from her, didn’t you?” Namjoon pointed out bluntly as Jungkook returns from the bathroom, dressed in a new pair of sweats and a shirt. At that remark, Taehyung and Jimin sputter audibly before snickering. The hybrid glares at the two, although no denying the claim.

“Can’t believe you got a taste before I could Kookie, you sneaky wolf,” the younger smirked, “And with wolfsbane in your system, how’d you even manage?”

“He blocked his gene you stupid bloodsucker,” Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This is becoming so troublesome.”

Jungkook frowned, glaring down at his sock-clad feet, “If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have made it home, I could’ve gone out of control again too…” Shaking his head, he looked at each of his pack members, “Trust me when I say I kept trying to push her away, but she offered and I couldn’t say no.”

Hoseok smiles softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Don’t blame yourself man, there was no other way around it.”

“I just can’t help blaming myself when all I do is hurt her,” Jungkook sighs exasperatedly, glaring down at his hands. His skin has been stained pink from the blood, a reminder of his status as a killer. He could’ve hurt you worse. He could’ve killed you.

“Stop worrying about that useless crap,” Yoongi frowns, flicking at his temple, “You’re both safe and that’s all that matters.”

“He’s right!” Seokjin hums, reentering the bedroom with a kitchen knife in hand. The image of the warlock smiling cheerily with a weapon in his grasps is not a savory one, but the others don’t question it as he orders the two vampires to leave the room and take you with them to rest downstairs. They don’t speak any complaint, but the werewolves remaining are all deftly aware of the tense smile on Namjoon’s expression that screams fear before leaving with Taehyung carrying you in his arms. 

“Alright, get on the bed Kookie-ah,” the warlock hummed without fail, the cheery tone sending shivers down all four of the wolves’ spines. He clamors onto the mattress without a peep, afraid of what he was going to do to cure him. Lying flat on his back, he gulps as Seokjin instructs the males to hold him down. A spell falls from his plump lips and the hybrid’s sheets wrapped around his ankles and wrists like rope. Hoseok takes position at his right arm, Jimin at his left foot, and Yoongi at his left arm. Seokjin stands at the side of the bed, brandishing the knife wickedly.

“About that wolfsbane procedure, hyung,” Jungkook mentions meekly as the warlock grins widely.

“I’m going to need you to reactivate your wolf gene, okay?” he says, ignoring the wolf’s initial question. 

He doesn’t know what to do initially, but after years of blocking his vampiric side and now lycan side, he closes his eyes and feels his body pulse. Reopening, his eyes appear blue and gold once again and he groans. The poison takes effect almost immediately upon the reactivation of his wolf side. His body grows paralyzed and he struggles to keep himself conscious with the amount of wolfsbane dosage. After how long the poison had been in his system, the effects take a turn for the worst as he begins convulsing wildly. His eyes are wide, burning brightly up at the ceiling as he clenches his teeth, fangs canines extended.

The movements prove tough for the other three wolves as blood and yellow foam emerges from his mouth. At his arms, his claws extend and he grabs wildly at the sheets to keep himself grounded while his body spasms out of control.

“Hold him tight, this is going to hurt, if I don’t do this quickly, he might actually die.”

The three try their best to steady the violent spasms of their youngest, struggling as Seokjin slices his shirt open and positions the blade over his chest. Pressing down, he makes an incision down the sagittal line of his chest down his belly. The cut opens wide and a thick and yellow smoke unfurls from inside the hybrid’s body. The wolves shield their faces from the vapor, watching as it fades slowly and Jungkook’s body soon falls lax with the disappearance of the wolfsbane. 

A whispered spell brings a towel flying in from the bathroom to clean up the frothing and blood. With the poison gone, Jungkook’s body is able to heal normally and the cut down his front mends together again. 

He lays there exhausted, chest falling up and down in parallel to his harsh breathing. The sharp nails of his fingers begin to recede and his eyes return to their normal mocha hue. 

“I never want to go through that again.”

Seokjin chuckles as he twirls his finger, a whispered spell causing the mattress and sheets to return to normal, “Then don’t take a knife like that.”

The younger pouts, watching as his bisected shirt is mended together by the spell.

“Come on, you’ve got some explaining to do down stairs,” Yoongi says, squeezing his shoulder briefly before exiting with the other three. 

Jungkook didn’t realize that after the whole fight, it didn’t change the awkwardness between you and him. You certainly didn’t forget about his hidden pasy with Hyejin. It didn’t even make it any better that he’s fed off of you. The thought brings pink hues burning at your cheeks. Neither one of you could look the other in the eyes. 

Jimin and Taehyung notice this exchange and elbow nudge one another. They shake their heads at the shyness, expecting things to be cleared up after you two talked and even had to fight to survive. However, you two were proving to be stubborn.

The two opt to take a seat at either of your sides, this action doing little effort in making a growl erupt from the hybrid. Clenching a trembling fist, he sighed and relented. He took a seat with Yoongi and Hoseok, while Namjoon stood with Seokjin. 

Both of you took turns explaining the sequences of events, leaving out your talk and mind meld and bloodsucking. The boys listen attentively with pensive expressions.  Seokjin steps behind you to place a comforting hand over you shoulder.

“You poor thing, to get thrown into battle like that without practicing your magic practically… I’m so proud of you holding your own… Minerva would be so proud,” he says with a soft tone, “When you rest up, I need to start teaching you some self defense.”

“It was weird. But it was also empowering. I’ve never used magic like that before, outside of your training. And it just seemed to flow inside me so easily,” you reply, glancing down at your hands and amulet. Seol had abruptly interfered with your skill, you wonder what would’ve happened if you had gone through with it. Would you be a killer? That thought made you frown. Maybe you’d have to resort to that if Eris was going to keep targeting you and putting your friends in danger. You looked up. Putting Jungkook in danger. 

You hated not being able to do anything. Hated that he was putting himself on the line for you. You weren’t even his imprint or whatever they called it. A fated soulmate. Perhaps Hyejin is his soulmate. Your chest tightened. That thought hurt.

“Don’t worry too much,” Seokjin smiled, “Rest up, go to school, and we’ll start teaching you how to protect yourself in fight when you feel better, okay?”

The meeting is adjourned and Seokjin leaves with Namjoon to restore the forest while the others disperse to their rooms. Glancing at Jungkook, you nearly sulk when he spares you no look. Looks like you’ll be in Yoongi’s room again. It’s not until later on when you’re about to retire to Yoongi and Hoseok’s room when the former stops you in the hallway. 

“Yoongi? Is something wrong?” You ask curiously.

He shifts from one foot to another, “Talk to him, I can’t take whatever the hell is going on between you two anymore.”

“He won’t tell me anything!” You fling your hands up in exasperation, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I thought we were okay, he told me about his family, but as soon as I find out he’s got a past with Hyejin, I’m locked out once again! What am I supposed to think or feel?” 

“What do you feel?” Yoongi asks.

“Hurt. Confused. All I know is that Jungkook liked Hyejin… and that he has a fated soulmate or whatever that means…”

The male winced at that. He nearly smacked his palm over his face out of frustration, ‘Oh Kookie-ah, you really need to learn how to explain and not leave your own imprint hanging like this.’ 

“What do you think you know about this fated thing?” He asks with pursed lips, crossing his arms over his chest as you explain how you saw in Jungkook’s memories about his father imprinting on his father and how he was fated to a she-wolf, and then the hybrid had forced her out of his head when Hyejin came into his life.

“That idiot,” he groaned, sagging his shoulders. Fingers pinched at the wrinkled bridge of his nose before he shook his head and waved you to follow him. Exiting the house to the backyard, he nodded his head towards the roof. “Good luck.”

“O-oh wait, real quick... do you mind?” You stammer, tapping on the surface of the stone on your chest. He blinks but relents and holds out a hand for you siphon from.

You manage a sheepish smile, nodding in response as your amulet resonated with a glowing hue. In a blink, you appeared atop the covering with a trail of black mist. Turning over your shoulder, you shoot the older wolf a quick thumbs up, to which he offers a quirk of his lips before shoving his hands into his pockets and heading back into the house to give you two privacy. You wonder how much privacy you two could get with their enhanced hearing. That didn’t matter, you think with a shake of your head. Right now, you needed to know the truth whether you or he liked it or not. 

Climbing over the tiles, you peer over the apex to find the hybrid sitting idly and staring up at the sky. 

“I know you’re there (Y/n),” he mumbled, making no move to regard you nor run away from you.

Your heart sped up, feeling nervous suddenly as you climb over and slide down and beside him. He didn’t spare you a look, and maybe that was for the best for the both of you. His cheeks burned as well as his whole body feeling as though it were up in the clouds. You breathed in, heart pounding in both yours and his ears and suddenly, it was like someone had grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him down to earth. The forest melted away, the house didn’t even feel like it was there. It was only a world where you were there and both of you watching the stars beginning to align and shine bright above you both.

He could smell your insecurity and anxiety, your sadness and worry. He hated that. Nothing mattered more than making you feel safe and making sure you were happy. 

“About today—”

“Listen—”

You both start at once, turning to glance at one another simultaneously. The realization sets in and both of you turn red immediately before quickly turning away. 

“I have one question,” he mutters softly, glancing down at his sock-clad feet. 

Averting your eyes in his direction, you gaze in awe at the way his chestnut hair appears darker, nearly pitch black. His chin raises and he turns his eyes back up towards the night sky and you no longer remember how to breathe. The small flecks in the sky appear like diamonds in the glimmer of his eyes. It reminds you of his true eye color, a bright pool of blue with specks of gold scattered within his iris. 

“Why?” He asked, eyes sliding down to gaze at you, “Why are you so persistent?”

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” You retort with a pointed look.

“Don’t answer me with a question,” He frowns, fingers twitching to flick your forehead as punishment but he knows if he touches you, he’ll want more contact.

“Sorry…” You purse your lips, “It’s just kind of unfair you know… you show me your past and it feels like I’ve gained your trust and we’re okay! And then something like Hyejin happens and you can’t bear to be in the same room as me anymore…”

It’s not that he couldn’t be in the same room. He wanted to be anywhere you were.

“I...I just don’t want to be left in the dark Jungkook.”

“Why does that matter to you?!” He snaps, although regretting it immediately when you flinch, body quivering slightly, “I… I’m sorry… I just don’t see why any of this matters to you when you’re just here to be protected until the Blackwells are no longer a threat to you. After that... you can go back to living with Yahiko, you won’t need us.”

Your shoulders sagged and the scent of hurt and sadness hit him like a train, and suddenly he felt like he was suffering the same emotions.

“Moreover that Jungkook, it’s just as Taehyung said before… I find family in you all… that’s why I care so much… I don’t know what else you want me to do or say…” You sigh exasperatedly, “I don’t even know what you want me to make of all the loose ends I’ve been getting, you just cut me off before I can get any real grasp of what’s going on… Like Hyejin? Was she a girlfriend from the past? Fated she-wolf? I just feel so—” You stopped yourself before you could say it. 

Sad. Heartbroken. There was only one reason why you would be feeling such a way in response to such things and that scared you. Not because of what he was, but because of the high possibility of rejection. 

“—ves.”

“What?” You ask, leaning closer to hear his low voice. 

“It’s not only other wolves…” He muttered with pursed lips, turning his head to look away, “That we could imprint on…”

“So… you could imprint on humans too?” You ask, cursing the lilt of hopefulness in your voice.

He nods.

You’re almost ecstatic at this revelation, but then you remember. 

Hyejin.

“You imprinted on Hyejin, didn’t you?” You stand abruptly.

His brow drew together, frowning at your conclusion, “No… that’s not… yes, I did previously date Hyejin but—”

“But what Jungkook?” You interrupt with a frown, “She’s your fated, huh?”

Just tell her, he thinks, tell her and this whole misunderstanding will be over. 

But he doesn’t. He’s too afraid and he feels his heart drop at it’s result.

“Why are you getting so nosy?” He snaps back.

“Why? Because I lik— …” You trail off, knowing why you feel the way you do. Frustration settles in your chest, twisting at your heart as tears create a sheen layer over your optics. Jungkook nearly feels like he’s being torn apart when he notices the minuscule tear that rolls from your bottom lid and is absorbed into the skin of your cheek. 

“(Y/n),” He whispers, but you shook your head and phase. His hand is too late as it reaches out to grab you, but only grasps at the black smoke you leave behind. Reopening his empty palm, he shook with guilt and anger at himself. A trembling fist smashes down, crumbling the roof tiles underneath.

“Fuck!”

..

Tags: 

@twilight-loveer​ @reinyrei​ @mistytail​ @mygukandonlyficrecs​ @xanny91​ @unpocodesoledadywisky​ @xxqueenwxtchxx​ @lildemonangele​ @gukworld​ @sunnyoongles​ @serendipity-secrets​ @ilaria-np​ @jules-park​ @treetops68​ @mischiefmakerliesmith5​ @jeonkooksgirl​ @coffeeismylife28​ @nshitae​ @bookoffracturedescapes​ @ellsbells72​ @zamirayinyue13​ @hannahdearr​ @tiredjedi