#straight up whisp and act?

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Drabble No. 1

Summary: “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice carefully low. And you could see how hard he was trying to contain his anger.

Pairing: Dave York x fem. Reader

Wordcount: just under 1k

Warnings: physical abuse, descriptions of injuries, unrequited love, implied death

He was too quick. Way too fucking silent. You did not hear him or even the door opening. You jumped as you felt his fingers under your chin. You kept your eyes focused on the floor, his shoes, his shiny black shoes. Why was he wearing shoes in the middle of the night?

“Sweetheart…” his voice reached your ear. You closed your eyes as he slowly tilted your chin up. You heard him breathe in slowly, his fingers under your chin moving your head to the side so he could look at you, access the whole damage. You couldn’t stop the single tear running down your cheek, his thumb carefully wiping it away. 

You opened your eyes, looking into his. The deep brown eyes you fell in love with so many years ago, without ever acting on those feelings because you were friends. Nothing more. At least until that one night where you were both too drunk. But then you met your now husband, and you… just couldn’t get away from him.

Because you were too damn weak. 

And up until this day you had managed to keep what really happened to you once you went home, back to the man you had vowed to spend your life with under wraps. Not that Dave would have ever been around to see it.  

But you couldn’t cover this up. 

Your eye was so swollen you almost couldn’t open it and in your fear of what else could happen if you stayed, you had gone to the only place, person, you ever really felt safe. 

Which was… Insane. 

You hadn’t seen the man since you finished college. Since he met Carol who had… her own opinion about her husband having a female best friend. Her jealousy was what slowly but steadily made Dave push you away.

But it’s been twelve years and a phone call to his father left you with his new address and the news that he was in the middle of a nasty divorce. 

16 hours later you knocked on his door, leaving you here, now.

Dave was older, you both were. It was the middle of the night. You had driven to him for 12 hours straight and you were exhausted but for the first time in years you felt… you felt safe. 

You looked at him, his face so close as his eyes flew over yours. He sucked his bottom lip in, tilting his head to the side, working his jaw before his eyes found yours. And there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, something dark. Dangerous. 

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice carefully low. And you could see how hard he was trying to contain his anger. But even if his whole body was on edge, his other hand clenched into a fist by his side, the hand that was touching you was the softest anyone had touched you in years.

His thumb brushed over your chin as he looked into your eyes. 

“Dave…”

“Sweetheart… I need to know. Who?” he took a step closer and you automatically took a step back, years of abuse teaching you to run. To escape. His hand dropped from your face and you closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I…. I shouldn’t have come here. I….”

“You’re safe,” he said and you looked at him with tears in your eyes. He held his hands up, as if he was talking to a scared animal. 

“You’re safe. Here. With me. I promise. I would never let anything happen to you,” he continued and you took deep breaths, allowing yourself to close your eyes, because you were safe. You knew that. Deep down. The man who did this to you was far away. He could not hurt you. 

You opened your eyes and took a step back towards him, slowly, your head tilting so you could look at him. 

“Who did this to you sweetheart?” he asked again, his jaw flexing. 

“Marc. It was…. It was Marc,” you whispered and he nodded, before he slowly brought his hands up to your face, brushing your tears away carefully. He kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered close. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, before he bent down to take the overnight bag you had packed in a hurry as you escaped from your hands. 

“I’m… I’m sorry for showing up like that. I… I… called your dad and I… didn’t, I didn’t know where to go…” you were shaking as you talked. 

“Is it okay if I hug you?” he asked quietly and you sucked your bottom lip in before you nodded. 

Slowly his arms wrapped around you and you let your head fall against his chest, inhaling his scent deeply, as you crossed your arms behind his back. You felt one of his hands rubbing slowly, soothingly over your back. 

He was warm, so warm.

“Come on. You must be exhausted. I’ll get the guest room ready for you,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head before he slowly led you inside.

He made you a tea, apologising that he didn’t have your favourite but promising to buy it the next day, and some toast to eat and showed you to the guest room after so you could take a shower and then go to sleep, him just in the next room if you needed anything. 

And while you were in the shower Dave made a call. 

A call that would make sure the man who did this to you would spend the little remaining time of his life in pain. 

He would love nothing more than to be the one killing that son of a bitch for what he did to you. But his team would take care of this one for him. 

And Dave? Dave would be there for you.

The way he always had wanted to. 

[frayedblorbos]

Abandoned Act 1 Chapter 1 Draft

Fog drifted between the trees, creeping along the mossy, earthen forest floor. The tendrils hugging tree trunks and brush like reaching arms. The Lost Woods were silent.

Silent except for the quiet whimpering of a babe, squirming in it’s bundle of blankets from where it was tucked safely away within the cavernous roots of a warped tree.

The Forest was old, very old. It had been around for a very long time, though was not the original Lost Woods, where the legendary Deku Tree resided. The mortals of this land had merely given the Forest that name due to the similarities it held to that fabled Woods. No, the Lost Woods, the *original* Lost Woods, were still located on an island out on the Great Sea. Although, Hero of the Winds had brought a Deku seed and a handful of forest spirits with him upon the relocation to these lands, and they now lived within the centre of the Forest.

The Forest had decided to take in these spirts. It had been so long since such sprites had resided within its branches. The Forest did have sprites of its own, but its children were old and without form - now mere wisps. It had been many years since then, and the Deku Tree’s sprites had settled in well with the Forest’s own. The Forest would protect what resided within itself.

Over the years, many a foolish mortal had wandered inside the Forest’s branches. Some, the Forest gently deposited back out; mostly children and the pure-hearted. Some, however, the Forest would swallow, and they would never see the light of day again.

The Forest would prevent harm to those it had decided to protect.

The great Evil was retuning to the realm. The Forest could sense as much. Within recent cycles of the Moon, the Forest had felt sickly. Evil was returning, indeed.

So when a young mortal woman, a child of the desert, had come fleeing into the Forest’s branches, babe in her arms, pursued by the puppets of evil - the Forest had done nothing. The Forest allowed the desert child to run through it’s fog, and watched. The woman cried and ran, trusting the babe to be safe within the roots of the Forest. And so the Forest had decided. It subtly guided the desert child to the River, which cradled her broken and bleeding body, carrying what was left of her gently downstream.

The Forest looked upon the whimpering bundle curiously. There were higher powers, higher beings, at work here.

The Forest curled a playful tendril of fog towards the baby, who quietened and stared at it with curious big eyes before trying to grab at it, mumbling slightly with excited and even wider eyes when it’s tiny hand went straight through the pearly substance.

The Forest would take in this blue-eyed babe.

It murmured to the sprites that resided within it’s heart, telling it’s children to guide the way to the mortal child.

The whisps popped into being, flickering like little blue flames. One appeared above the babe and bobbed playfully around it’s grasp as it giggled and stared in wonder. The whisp’s flickering blue was reflected in the child’s wide eyes.

The Forest urged the spirits to haste, for of the puppets of Evil that had chased the desert child some still wandered through the fog.

Two brave little wood sprites were the ones to join their ghostly companion on the venture, following the trail of whisps out of the Forest’s heart and towards the mortal child it had decided to safeguard. The whisps would pop out of existence and disappear completely, or perhaps reappear further up the trail, as the little group would follow.

“Kiki is wondering how Mister Wolf is solid,” a tiny Korok with a hand-shaped-leaf chittered.

“Deedee knows that Kiki is forgetful, but Deedee did not think that Kiki was silly,” a Korok with a heart-shaped-leaf chittered back.

Kiki let out a petulant huff, shaking a twig in their tiny grasp, but before the little Koroks could start bickering, the wolf grumbled, effectively shutting the sprites up.

The Forest harboured many spirits, ghosts among them. A pack of ghostly wolves lurked the forest - truly no harm to anyone; the Forest had welcomed the souls of the poor creatures into it’s fog as the pack was chased into the woods by farmers armed with torches and pitchforks. There were also the ghosts of long dead mortals, mostly innocents that could not pass on and the Forest had decided to safeguard until they faded away - some stayed as fuzzy echoes of who they once were while others took different forms.

Neither of the little Koroks knew whether Mister Wolf was a mortal ghost with wolven form, or the ghost of one of those poor creatures. They were okay with not knowing, albeit curious as to why this particular spirit was special.

*Mister Wolf* padded dutifully along, understanding the Forest’s intent to preserve the babe’s life. Following the trail of whisps was efficient, and the bundled baby was found in no time. While the Koroks immediately began to chitter away about how cute and strangely fleshy the mortal child was, Wolf snuffled the babe’s cheek, chuffing as the blue-eyed bundle squealed and giggled. Wolf continued to nose the child, sniffing, and playfully licking the baby, putting up with it’s grabby hands that manhandled it’s face and pulled at it’s ears.

“Kiki and Pip have the bag!” Kiki chimed, hopping back onto Wolf’s back, Pip helping pull the satchel in tow.

Wolf snorted in affirmation, making sure that the babe was properly bundled before using it’s maw to gently grab the blankets and carry the squirming bundle.

Mission nearly complete, the spirits began the short journey back to the heart of the Forest, following the whisps that guided them. Instead of popping out of existence, some of the whisps would decide to stay, drifting around the small party, and bobbing in and out of reach of the child’s tiny hands.

The babe no longer whimpered or cried and squirmed. Instead it giggled and babbled curiously and the whisps played with it and it swung happily in the wolf’s grip.

The Forest’s trees rustled happily. It had not been graced with such happy sounds from a mortal in many Moons.

The Forest’s heart was the safest place within itself, much like the Deku Tree’s domain. The trees grew healthier and taller, a small stream that had broken away from the River flowed through the clearing. The boy would be well taken care of, safe, within the Forest.

[worldsneverfilled]

Unspecified Entry, Welcome to the Blessings Tree

//I've left it vague as to who's visiting the Blessings Tree for a reason, but uh, this is kind of what I imagine it'd be like visiting the Tree for the first time. This is also not technically canon for the campaign, mostly head canon.

Stepping through the portal is like stepping outside on a crisp autumn morning. It's a breath of fresh air and freedom that one might feel after being locked away indoors or underground for weeks. It's invigorating, and soothing.

But, on the other side, your senses are accosted by a myriad of things.

You can smell cinnamon rolls, oxidizing metal, the world after rain, grazing fields—the good and bad that come with it—life and death.

The sounds that reach your ears are just barely there, as though they're not entirely physical. You strain to hear them and pick out individual noises, but they're whispering and teasing in the back of your mind. Rocks grinding together, rushing water, giggling and whispers, singing, instruments all playing different tunes, birdsong, and more. But overshadowing all of them is a sound reverberating through you, your heart synching with the heartbeat you hear playing out on wooden wind chimes. It eases your worries, and you feel a peace you haven't felt in ages flow through you.

Around you, motes of light that are tiny and just barely there flit around or float aimlessly. They trail behind passers-by, some merely floating in that person's wake, while a passing child has little green wisps playing around in the flowers in their hair. The whisps are a variety of colors, and some have taken more familiar shapes while others have remained formless.

At your side, you hear dissonant whispers, and when you peer down, there are wisps of purple light dancing across and streaking around the head of your axe. The scents of a damp forest floor and sulfur reach you; the forest is like an earthy rot but not wholly unpleasant.

The room you've stepped into is massive, cavernous. It would be confused for a cave if not for the material that makes up the walls, ceiling, and floors and how well-lit it is from the stained-glass windows to your left. Pillars of wood, here and there, act as support; there are low points that arch over you, while other spots seem to reach high above and disappear into the darkness and out of sight. The walls are misshapen and lumpy in places, uneven, and while the pillars look smooth to the touch, the walls are covered with protective bark. It's not from the wear and tear of time or touch nor the tools of a carver that have finely smoothed them; they were grown that way.

Knots in the wood protrude randomly from the surface, where the wood was left alone to grow as it wished in those places. The floor has faint lines, too many to count, squashed together. They would look straight, but after closer inspection, you can just barely see a slight curve to them, marking the passage of time for this remarkable tree.

The floor has rugs that lead a winding path forward, made of materials dyed in otherworldly, vibrant colors you've never seen before. Intricate, weaving patterns make up each rug, the look of colorful vines with leaves or flowers attached to them. Stepping on one comes with the feeling of an uneven texture of a forest floor, the pile of the carpets not high enough to trip someone but enough to feel the vines and leaves beneath your feet.

Ahead of you, you spot two archways that flank this enormous hall, one smaller than the other. Through the larger of the two—with people entering and exiting with arms empty and then not—you hear the sounds of people calling out to one another, amicably chatting as they barter, and the sounds of goods being moved here and there. It's the sound of a marketplace, though it's a small one. The sound may be echoing, making it appear as though it's larger and more crowded than it is.

Through the smaller one—though it's difficult to see much from this angle—there's a sliver of emerald. Peering through the oddly-shaped windows to your left reveals that the sea of green is a forest, and peaking out over the tops of the trees is a view of the Giants' Shoulders—the mountains that surround this vale.

Curving around the wall beside and above you is a staircase, grown from the walls and leading up to the third floor, the third bough of the tree. The courtroom, meeting halls, and living quarters of the Nyhmorarch are there. All but the Nyhmorarch's home are open to the public, and you see one or two people ascend the stairs, possibly to attend court.

At the far end of the hall there appears to be another staircase leading to the ground floor of the tree where the school, archives, and temple are located, also open to the public. There's a second portal to the right of it, and just like the one behind you, it's flanked by two guards in metal armor of silver and green. Their brown-black capes and shields have an image of the Blessings Tree in the center, designed to look like it's in four seasons.

The guards beside you are two Eladrin, one aligned with the Spring court and one with Winter. The ones guarding the portal that leads elsewhere in the Feywild are a bit harder to see, but one appears to be tiny and floating—perhaps a fairy—while the other has a second set of arms and…antennae? Whatever they are, they're insectoid in nature and unfamiliar to you.

Your guide bounces forward a few paces and turns with a flourish to face you, arms spread wide and smile cheerful and welcoming when they exclaim, "Welcome to Knashthra! And welcome to the Blessings Tree."

Photo from here.

[anonymousfiction211]

Handcuffed together 11: Expectations

A/N:

A few days later than origanlly planned, but here is the next chapter ;)

Word count: 2.065

Two weeks.

You were in the house with Thor for two weeks and still haven’t heard anything of the team. In those two weeks you had played every board game that was in the house with Thor. Watched a bunch of series and movies. Even got drunk one evening. If you thought that combat training with Thor was hard, combat training with Thor while having a major hang over was much worse.

Slowly losing your mind, you were getting on Thor’s nerves on purpose. Hoping he would let you out of the house, but he couldn’t be convinced. You tried to sneak out a few times, but he had caught you. Apparently growing up with a trickster brother, you learn a thing or two. With plenty of time to think about the whole situation you decided that you were mad at Loki, very mad. You knew he had arranged this, thinking it was the right thing. But he didn’t talk to you about it, he didn’t give you any choice or voice in this, that made you angry. You didn’t want a relationship where he would just make his own plans, without consulting you. Or that he would think it is okay to do whatever he wants.

Thor tried to defend Loki’s action, but even he had to admit that he understood your point of view. After that the two of you decided not to talk about it, trying to make the best of the whole situation. Halfway through the third week Thor got a call from Tony. The security system should keep out Thanos’ minions, tough not Thanos himself. There was half a plan, so the two of you could return back to the tower. Finally, you walked with Thor outside. Inhaling the fresh and warm air, you saw the jet with Natasha approaching. Looking around you asked Thor ‘So, where are we exactly?’

‘Some country called Italy’ he answered.

Your jaw dropped ‘I’ve been in Italy this WHOLE TIME. And weren’t able to see a thing?’ you yelled.

‘So, excited to see that boyfriend of yours. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he missed you terribly’ Natasha beamed.

On the flight back to Stark Tower

The flight home was long. Thor didn’t come with you and Natasha. He had some things to sort out on Asgard, regarding the Tesseract. Leaving you alone with Natasha. You sat down in the co-pilot seat, and watched Natasha fly for a while.

‘I- I don’t know’ you answered.

‘How come?’ she asked.

‘Seriously? Avoiding me, knocking me out and shipping me to Italy, without even talking to me comes to mind’ you angrily reacted.

‘Not the most tactical approach, but effective. I mean, it’s Loki. What did you expect? A heart to heart?’ she said.

‘Wow, thanks for your understanding’ you sarcastically reacted.

‘Come on, it took him literally attacking you to finally tell us everything that he went through and is still going through. And still he is extremely vague about it’ she answered. ‘The only reason he agreed to stay was if we got you out of there. Thor and I had to stop him thrice from leaving that night. I was exhausted’

‘He tried to leave?’ you didn’t think he actually was serious when he said that maybe he tried.

‘Almost succeeded, I might add’ she said.

The rest of the flight the two of you rode in silence.

‘Don’t tell me he left’ you said to Steve.

At Stark Tower

Entering Stark tower, you were greeted by the whole team, expect Loki. He was nowhere to be seen.

‘No, he didn’t. He just rarely leaves his room since it happened’ Steve said.

‘(Y/N), I think maybe we should talk’ Tony said to your surprise. He has been keeping a distance from you since you and Loki started to get involved with each other.

‘Not now’ Steve sighed to Tony.

You raised an eyebrow but nobody gave you an explanation. Not wanting to waist anymore time you left it at that, and went straight to Loki’s room. You knocked on the door.

‘Door is open’ you heard him say.

Entering his room, he emerged from his bathroom. He was shirtless and his hair was still wet. Resisting the urge to run into his arms, you closed the door and stood still in the room. When you looked at him many emotions surged through you. You had missed him, but you still felt betrayed and angry.

‘How could you?’ you asked, holding back your tears and anger.

Loki looked sad, maybe a bit guilty. ‘I had to’ he answered.

In your anger you made an energy ball and flung it at Loki. He dodged the ball by ducking down, making it disappear in the bathroom. You heard a loud crash and saw several bottle flying and breaking through. Now it was Loki’s turn to look angry and betrayed.

‘Darling, calm down. Let’s talk’ he said.

He took a step in your direction. The fact that he told you to calm down had the opposite effect. Shooting another ball, he redirected it towards the wall where his closet was. Clothes were falling out and the closet was damaged. Loki kept walking towards you, redirecting the balls you threw at him. His desk was split in half, the cushions on his bed were hit making feather fly across the room and the table was slightly burning. Loki got closer and closer, making you step backwards with your back against the door. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head. Grabbing your chin harshly you hissed in pain.

‘You want to fight? Let’s fight’ he said angrily.

He released your chin and pulled you from the door. He pushed you towards the middle of the room. You attacked him by hand, but he blocked you easily. Punching you in your ribs, making you groan and bend over. Even tough it hurt slightly, you knew he was holding back. You tried to punch him in the face, but he dodged you making you spin around. Grabbing your hips from behind he holds you close to his back.

‘Pathetic’ he whispered in your ear.

Spinning around again you started to walk towards him, while trying to hit him. You tried to throw your punched as fast as you could, but he was faster. He blocked every attack you threw at him, but didn’t attack back. When he was almost with his back against the wall he sweeped your leg, making you fall on your back.

‘Improvement. Yes. Enough? No’ he said. You saw the mischievous look on his face, he was certainly enjoying your rage.

You made an unexpected move and kicked his legs out from under him. He fell down with a groan, wiping the smug smile from his face. You pinned yourself above him, your knees pinning the arms against his body. Grabbing his chin like he did earlier you growled ‘You can’t just decide and act like you do, without including me!’

Loki didn’t look fazed, he looked calm. A bit too calm for your liking.

‘I can when it is about your safety’ you heard him say from behind you. Two hands grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up. The Loki under you faded away and you started to struggle against the arms around you. He threw you on the bed, making feathers once again fill the room.

‘It’s been a while, but I’ll get you purring again kitten’ he suggestively said. Crashing his lips down on your before you could protest. He broke the kiss and started to trail his kisses down your neck, marking you like he did the first time. You cried out but he ignored you. You were still struggling against his grip and the weight of his body on yours.

‘Stop. You can’t just send me away and expect me to go back to you whenever you like’ you said angrily.

Loki stopped what he was doing and looked into your eyes with an intense gaze. ‘And you can’t expect me to be with you if my presence endangered the woman I love’ he growled. With a hand wave the both of you were naked. Your wrists were tied together above your head to the headboard of the bed. There was a large ball in your mouth, preventing you from speaking. The ball was connected with chains to clams on your nipples, forcing you to look down at Loki. When you tried to move your head you pulled on your nipples, making you moan and Loki smirk. He positioned himself between your legs and worked your clit with his tongue. Slowly circling it with the tip and licking it with the flat of his tongue. He maintained eye contact with you the whole time. Even tough you wanted to, you couldn’t look away.

Right before you orgasm hit you, he stopped. Groaning around the ball he just laughed. A paint brush appeared in his hand. With one hand he opened your folds, exposing your throbbing clit to him. With the other he started to stroke it with the brush. The feeling kept you on edge, but it was nowhere firm enough to topple you over. Your nipples started to hurt, so you had no other option than to watch Loki play with your body. In an attempt to come you bucked your hips to create more friction, but Loki made the brush disappear.

‘What is it, kitten?’ he taunted.

He made the ball in your mouth disappear, but kept the clams on. ‘Now?’ he said.

Totally out of breath you gasped for air a few times. ‘Please, fuck me’ you begged him.

‘Good girl’ he praised.

He entered you with his cock in on smooth motion. He started to thrust into you in a fast pace, hitting the exact right spot. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He started to leave open mouth kisses on your neck and mouth. One hand slowly trailed downwards and played with your sensitive clit. You came hard, clenching your walls around his cock. Loki groaned loudly and you felt his cock twitch and spill his seed in you. He thrusted sloppily a few times and collapsed on top of you.

He was heavy, but it made you feel secure. The restraints disappear and you wrapped your hands around his back. Loki popped up on his elbows but stayed on top of you.

‘I missed you terribly’ he whispered against your lips while kissing you.

‘I missed you too’ you said back.

‘I didn’t want to send you away, but I had no other choice. Darling, if I ever think I’m a danger to you.. I’m going to send you away. And I know you will hate me for it. But I’d rather have that than kill you’ he started to trail his tongue up and down your neck, biting you slightly to make you squirm. You felt his cock starting to erect again.

‘And if you can’t handle that, I suggest you leave now’ he whispered in your ear. You felt two fingers enter you and his thumb started to toy with your clit again. You tried to get away from the overstimulation, but Loki’s weight prevented you to. After a long-time having sex and cuddling with each other, even Loki was finally tired. You were completely exhausted. Still, he pulled you out of bed and sent you to your own room. After the mandatory shower there was a beautiful green dress on the bed. You put it on and found a note under the dress.

- See you at the roof – L

When you got out of the elevator you saw Loki. He was standing in a suit near beautiful set table with candles and roses. There was a bottle of wine in the cooler. It was dark and the lights of the buildings were beautiful to see. Loki smiled brightly when he saw you. Walking towards him he pulled a chair for you. When you set down you felt his lips against your ear. ‘I am not going to apologise, but will make it up to you for spending two weeks with my idiot brother’ he said while kissing your ear lobe. When he set down it was Steve who served you your first course. He winked at you ‘Just friends, hmm?’ he said.

Permanent tag list: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theaudacitytowrite

Series tag list: @l0nelyasian @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @ragweed98 @thehornytitties @oh-my-gerd @morganmofresh @saiyanstars @rahne85 @charistory @not-your-bitch @kamrynnnnn

[jobean12-blog]

A Searing Embrace

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 794

Summary: You and the team are on a mission. Bucky loves to watch his girl kick ass...and I mean LOVES hehe

Author’s Note: Thank you for this fun request anon! I apologize for the long wait! Thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy this! I love making Bucky a sub for a few minutes before he gets to have fun...I mean let’s be honest, either way it’s a win! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: It’s sweet and fun and then smut, oral (male rec), cursing, use of powers to get Bucky off, light sub/dom moments (18+ only please)

As you float above the action you try to keep your mind focused on your fight but it’s hard when Bucky is below you with 25 aliens rushing at him. For a split second it looks like it might be too much, and you quickly use your powers to send a bolt of energy through the swarm, effectively turning most of them into goo. Bucky whoops and you can’t help but smile, winking his way when he yells, “damn! That’s my girl!”

The moment your feet hit the ground you start running straight into Bucky’s arms. He picks you up and spins in a circle, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Kick ass baby girl. I love watching you do your thing.” You answer him with a kiss, tugging hard on his hair while the adrenaline still courses through your body. Pulling away to catch your breath you slowly slide down his body, smirking when you feel the bulge in his tactical pants, “you really do enjoy it, huh?”

He’s about to give you a sassy retort when Steve strides up next to you, “save the fun for later kids, time to go.” You playfully roll your eyes and take Bucky’s hand, but not before sending a small whisp of your energy between his legs. He nearly trips over his own feet and you can’t help your giggle, earning a stern look from Steve.

Bucky’s cheeks are pink when you take your seats in the jet, your hand resting gently on his thigh as you brush the hair away from his ear and whisper, “I can’t wait to get off this thing.” His metal arm squeezes your waist before he sneaks his fingers up your back and starts playing with the zipper of your suit. You stay quiet and still, calling on your power to send soft touches down his neck and chest.

The cool metal at your neck tightens and you watch Bucky’s jaw clench. “You ok Buck?” Steve’s eyebrows raise in concern and you quickly look at Bucky, acting worried. “You know what Steve, I think we’re gonna go sit in the back and rest where it’s quiet. We’re both pretty shot.” Without waiting for an answer, you take Bucky by the arm and lead him away from everyone.

When you reach the back of the ship Bucky spins you around and crashes you to his chest, “having fun doll face?” You dance your fingers down his chest and palm him through the thick material of his pants, “I am, but I’m ready for more.” Without more than a thought you easily undo the buckles of this gear and get his pants unzipped and halfway down his thighs.

“Fuck,” he says, his tone husky and deep, “anyone could walk in here you know.” You look between his legs and lick your lips, “I don’t really care.” Your mouth silences any further thoughts of his as you let a tendril of power drift down and over his cock, swirling it around in a motion similar to one your tongue would make.

Bucky’s teeth press into your plush bottom lip and he growls into your mouth, “fucking hell doll.” You continue rubbing over his hard length, working him from the base to tip, “I really wanna put my mouth on you, Bucky”. His hands start to circle around your waist to pull you closer, but you stop them with your powers, pinning his arms to the wall.

“You don’t play fair,” he whines, testing the strength of your mind restraints and moaning when he realizes it’s no use. Your lips leave a warm trail down his neck and chest, stopping just above the v of his hips, “you can play later. It’s my turn now.” Your mouth closes over the head of his cock just as you tweak his nipples with a whisp of energy and his hips rock into your face.

“I’m so close baby.” You can taste his precum on your tongue and you start to suck with renewed vigor, letting your energy wash over his body in feather light touches anywhere and everywhere. The wall behind his metal hand begins to warp under his strength and his cock throbs in your mouth. With one long and languid stroke of your tongue you send a jolt of energy right through him and he fills your mouth with his hot cum.

Standing up, you release his arms and lean in close, running your tongue over your lips to lick off every last drop. “You’re delicious.” It takes him a moment to find his voice, the heavy rise and fall of his sweat slicked chest finally easing when he pins you with a hungry glare. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you when we get home.”

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13​ @chucklebucky​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @lookiamtrying​ @lokilvrr​ @littleredstarfish​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​

[shanastoryteller]

Trick or treat!! I’d love some Zuko/Yue/Sokka or something untamed related!!

Wei Wuxian has been dead for over a month when Lan Xichen hears music coming from the Jingshi.

Wangji is still too ill to move, the thin scabs across his back sometimes breaking and bleeding anew if he breathes too deeply. The playing is too tentative and uncertain to be his even if he could force himself to sit up straight for long enough to play the chords. It’s Healing, the music rough and uncertain but unmistakable, and he feels a rush of affection for whichever disciple has risked being thrown from their sect to sneak into his brother’s room as he sleeps to try to help him.

For a moment he considers turning around, pretending he never heard anything, but doesn’t. He is willing to overlook this. Uncle and the clan elders won’t be. Wangji is in seclusion and he has to heal on his own, under his own spiritual power, which he will. He’ll live and he’ll heal.

The thirty three lashes hadn’t killed him. He’ll live. He’ll heal. But he has to do it on his own.

He pushes open the door and freezes.

His brother’s guqin is playing itself. The strings are plucked slowly and carefully, but no one is there except his brother who lays unconscious on his stomach. He breathes in through his teeth, too quickly and too loudly, and the playing cuts off with a discordant twang.

The door closes on his face, nearly slamming except softening at the last second. He rushes to yank the door open again, but it doesn’t budge. Healing starts up again, and he bangs on the door, trying to rip it open with brute strength when talismans prove useless. There is something in there with injured baby brother. He tries a window next, which won’t move, won’t be shattered, but at least now he can see.

He should call for help, call for Uncle and the other disciples, but as he reaches for the talisman he sees something that makes him pause.  

Rippling across the strings of the guqin are whisps of red spiritual energy.  

Lan Xichen passes the night standing at the window, watching. Healing is played again and again, for hours, until the sky turns grey with morning, until it’s nearly but not quite five. The song is stronger and smoother at the end of the night than at the beginning.

When the song doesn’t start up again, he pushes the window. It opens easily. The door is the same, opening with no resistance.

He sits next to his brother, watching as his eyes slowly slide open. “Wangji,” he greets quietly, “how are you?”

Wangji looks at him. It doesn’t feel like he’s seeing him.

Lan Xichen leans forward and carefully lifts the sheet off of his brother’s back. His brother is a strong cultivator, one of the strongest of their generation, of course. Anything less and thirty three lashes would have killed him. But the thick scabs covering his skin are so much more than he’d had even when Lan Xichen saw him a week ago. There’s not even any blood on the sheet.

“You’re healing well,” he says, trying to keep his voice even.

Wangji’s face doesn’t so much as twitch.

He doesn’t know, then.

Lan Xichen can’t decide if Wei Wuxian’s ghost is acting out of kindness or cruelty by hiding itself from Wangji.

[officerjennie]

You'll Never Be Too Much

CW: ED adjacent thoughts, weight gain thought of negatively (by Eskel), spiraling thoughts, weight gain spoken of positively (by Jaskier), tummy kisses, scar kisses, stretch mark kisses, brief mentions of witchers not eating well on the path, soft!Eskel, hurt/comfort. Starts out rough but ends up Soft. WC: 7.6k+ Rating: T Prompt: Tickling Summary: Eskel injured himself at the start of the winter and ended up resting throughout it, and when it's time to meet up with Jaskier in the spring he fears he will be unattractive to him. But Jaskier is determined to do his best to show Eskel just how beautiful he is when he's soft and healthy.

Dedicated to @all-hail-the-witcher who kept yelling at me to stop hurting Eskel. And a special thanks to @lindianaj0nes for betaing for me <3

It was a mistake coming here.

Eskel rode Scorpion through the small town streets, apprehension tensing through his body until he was just one knot of it, his eyes unable to look further than the stones straight ahead of where his horse took him, unable to look up and see the faces around him.

Sometime the fall before, when the trees were all but bare and the scent of rotting leaves was thick in the air, Jaskier had shooed him home. It had made his heart ache though he knew Jaskier’s decision had not been one made of emotion - no matter how difficult that might be to believe. Jaskier, following logic instead of his heart or cock, but the regret and the worry and the love had been so clear on his face that not even Eskel could deny it.

Jaskier was many things, but an outright liar was not one of them. And there was so much proof to his love that, after almost seven years, Eskel was finally comfortable and confident enough to relax into it.

But that had been before the winter, and dread sat rotten in his gut as he rode slowly towards their agreed upon meeting place.

It was a nothing town in the middle of a nothing country, named but nothing to that name. They’d chosen it because of its location more than anything else. Nestled nicely an equidistance between both Kaer Morhen and Oxenfurt, in an area that wasn’t too keen on driving away witchers, not really known for much monster nuisance or trouble. It was a bit dull and boring for the both of them but when it came to spring meetings dull and boring was nice, a pleasant if brief respite from the world they’d be flinging themselves into shortly.

Jaskier would be there at the inn, waiting for him. As he always was. Singing the crowd into a joyous lot, using a rickety table as his stage, his bright colors splashed against the dull and dark of the rest of the world - and Eskel would be joining him soon, slipping into a booth in the corner to see how long it took for Jaskier to notice he’d shown up, because if the way his bard’s face lit up upon noticing him couldn’t convince him of his love then nothing else ever could.

But this year, this spring, he feared the lust might not follow.

Eskel shifted, feeling his shirt too tight against his skin, and when he looked up at last the inn was far too close. But he’d come this far, and he’d made the mistake of skipping one of their meetings before. Not entirely on purpose, but it hadn’t stopped Jaskier from hunting him down and giving him several pieces of his mind. For several months.

And the songs that followed felt like they’d never end.

The inn had a dingy stable built right next to it, one with only a few stalls and one single, rather sleepy stable boy who always had hay sticking out from his dirty blonde hair. Eskel slipped him a few extra coins after settling Scorpion in, nodding as the boy settled back onto his bucket, coins shoved into his pockets before he rested back against the wood and pulled the hat back over his eyes.

He could already hear his singing. One of Geralt’s songs, a grand tale that was more hyperbole than anything else - anyone who knew Geralt would know Jaskier was embellishing but no one in the inn had probably laid eyes on him before. Or, if they had, they only knew the gruff exterior and the character that Jaskier spun with his words.

It was enough to distract him momentarily from his worries. He entered the inn and slipped easily past the crowd, not drawing more than a pair or two of eyes his way, the barkeep sliding him a tankard without even bothering to demand payment up front. Eskel’s face was a memorable one, and he was good for his coin; there were some benefits to returning every spring and fall.

Jaskier had not changed much since he last saw him, Eskel noted as he slid into a booth (not the same one as the last time, never the same one. That would have ruined their game). His hair was a bit longer, curls a bit wilder from the length, looking as if he’d recently run his hands through them a few too many times. Doublet open, chemise white and almost see-through and far too visible to be decent, black curls begging for fingers to run through them. He was wearing red and Eskel colored at the sight, eyes slipping away as Jaskier drew the crowd into a roar of laughter at his raunchy lyrics.

Not a single bit of Jaskier’s performance was ever unplanned, and his clothes were part of his every day performance. There was a reason he wore red.

Eskel managed to get through a few tankards of ale as he waited, eventually going back to watching him play, letting himself let go enough to be drawn into the music. It was a bit too loud, a bit too much for his liking, but for Jaskier he could put up with it. The crowd, the noise, the scraping of wooden chairs against the floor and the slamming of cups down on the tables. All of it could be tuned down if he tried hard enough, focused hard enough on something else, and that something else was how expertly Jaskier’s long fingers worked the strings on his lute, how he poured every emotion into every lyric and word, and how he could see those cornflower eyes scan the crowd every once in a while looking for a matching splash of red.

When Jaskier finally spotted him, it was enough to make Eskel’s heart flutter. His words did not stumble, his fingers did not stutter, but his eyes found him and blew wide. From across the room Eskel watched as his pupils grew, drinking in the sight of him, eyes flickering as if to sear the memory of him into his mind. His lips drew upwards in a smile he couldn’t hold back nor could he ever fake - Jaskier’s grin, his true and joyous grin, was lopsided and silly, not thought through and perfected like the rest of his performance and Eskel adored it all the more for it. Treasured each moment it was sent his way as he did just then, forgetting his worries as he heard the lilt of excitement weave into his bard’s music.

Jaskier didn’t even attempt to make it through another song, bowing out quickly and hopping off of his table even quicker, the crowd nearly forgotten as his grin spread and his feet brought him straight to his waiting witcher.

“And here I thought you’d forgotten me,” he teased, though the hurt that once edged into those words was long gone. Didn’t stop Eskel from thinking he was a little shit for bringing it up still, after all of those years, but Eskel had grown up around little shits and knew how to deal with them. Mostly.

“Hard to forget someone like you.” Eskel winked just to hear Jaskier laugh, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest - and the movement reminded him of why he’d sat with his back to the wall, table in-between him and Jaskier’s makeshift stage, the worries and fears coming crashing down on him as he made to tug his shirt back into place.

Jaskier didn’t seem to notice, not yet. Too busy shaking his head fondly and chattering away, holding onto his lute strap with one hand while the other gestured and flourished through the air, spinning his fingers as he spun the tale of his journey there. Eskel caught a good bit of it, whisps of familiar words as Jaskier joined him at the table, his bard pressing a leg against Eskel’s as he went on about how one fork in the road had nearly been his downfall when his turn had been blocked.

“It was luck and Melitele’s blessing alone that got me here,” he concluded, dramatically heaving a sigh as he fluttered his eyelashes, looking up through them in the way that usually had Eskel’s insides melting. “We must truly be meant to be, dearheart, if not even the most formidable of foes can keep us apart.”

“A fallen tree and a couple of bandits aren’t that dangerous,” he pointed out, keeping at least one hand in his lap and hoping the position was normal. How was it that he usually sat? Did he usually have his hands on the table? Arms across his chest? Nothing like trying to act inconspicuous to make one realize they knew so little about their own behavior, and Eskel felt disdain at not knowing how to act like himself.

“You feeling alright, love?”

Eskel could have cursed himself, doubly so because he didn’t know what had given him away. But Jaskier’s lips had turned down, his eyes searching his face for any hint of something, one of his hands reaching out to hold Eskel’s where it had been resting on the table.

“I’m fine,” he lied, the words heavy on his tongue. Heavy like the fears that had turned into stones in his gut, heavy like every step had been on the way here. Heavy like him. “Just a bit tired. Traveling down a perilous mountain is a bit more exhausting than some formidable trees.”

The teasing worked at least. Distracted Jaskier enough for his nose to scrunch up cutely, for the frown to disappear from his face. But it was only a delay of the inevitable as Jaskier leaned towards him, bringing his hand up to brush his lips against the back of his knuckles, the tender touch followed by a few soft kisses to his fingers.

“I’ve already got us a room. Upstairs, window overlooking the stable, just like you like. Always best to leave the crowd wanting so why don’t we retire early tonight?”

“It’s not anywhere near night,” Eskel said, the correction in place of the irrational words he wished to say. ‘Let’s stay down here’, he wanted to suggest. ‘We can eat and drink and stay here, on opposite sides of the table. We can stay here all night and all through tomorrow and don’t look at me, I don’t want to see your face fall in disappointment’.

His hand tugged at the end of his shirt, trying to hide the soft skin that refused to stay contained. But Jaskier intertwined their fingers so sweetly, his voice like honey, lips so soft where they ran across his own rough skin.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, voice full of all the nights they’d spent far, far away from each other. “So what if it’s not night; maybe I’d rather spend the day in your arms than around all these drunken fools.”

“You’re sappier than a maple,” Eskel accused, his cheeks dusted pink, but they both knew Eskel didn’t hold it against him - just as they both knew Jaskier would get what he wanted.

It meant standing up, however, and Eskel was not looking forward to that. But he let himself get tugged up, making sure to not let Jaskier feel the weight of him, pushing himself up instead of reveling in the strength in those deceptively slender looking arms. Jaskier laced their fingers together the moment they were both standing and Eskel counted his blessings as Jaskier led the way, eyes elsewhere and ahead of them, his bard quiet for once as he led them past the bar and up the stairs, halfway down the hall on the left, their door not even locked much to Eskel’s chagrin.

“Not worried your bags will be pilfered through?”

“I was in a hurry,” Jaskier pouted, dropping Eskel’s hand and making a show of locking the door behind them, tossing the key onto a table that looked a little out of place with no chairs to be seen. “Now, on the bed, mister. I’ve walked a long road and sang my throat raw countless nights to reach you, and I’m not wasting another moment outside of those arms!”

Eskel hesitated. He hated that he did, with his back to Jaskier as he heard him gently placing his lute on the same table he’d carelessly tossed the keys onto - and it occurred to him that Jaskier had probably requested it specifically for that purpose, using his exceptional charm to get his way as usual, and the coin toss had landed on success rather than backfiring in his face as it sometimes was wont to do.

He shifted his weight, feeling the pull of the muscles he’d fucked up in his leg at the start of the winter. Not even the start of it; on his journey up the mountain, too cocky for his own good, not taking care with his steps and leading to a nearly fatal fall that had left him limping and dragging himself the rest of the way home.

If he’d been human - if he’d still been human - it would have been a permanent injury. As it was his own stubbornness had made it worse over the winter, and it was one he could still feel a few months later. One that had cost him.

He should be grateful he’d survived, and he was grateful of it, but as he stared at the bed he was supposed to climb in he wondered if it really would’ve been all that bad to skip their meeting until fall. Skip the few months they’d get together now, the nights he could spend in Jaskier’s arms, for a chance to work past the rough winter and resemble more of himself before Jaskier caught sight of him again.

It wouldn’t do to stand there in the middle of the room any longer. He started towards the bed a bit too quickly, almost forgetting to take off his armor and boots as he went, the rest of his pack having been left to Scorpion to defend with his viscous bite and deadly kicking aim.

Eskel was under the covers before Jaskier was even ready to turn towards the bed, his bard ever slow with getting ready for even the simplest of things despite how he rushed and shooed others on. The doublet had been folded neatly and moved around until he deemed a place suitable enough to stash it away, his boots aligned neatly near the door while Eskel’s had been kicked off towards the wall. Jaskier scratched his hair as he sighed, his shoulders sagging, the performance melting away and leaving a disaster of a man that Eskel could not love more if he tried.

The sheets sussed together as Jaskier crawled into them as if he’d never felt a more comfortable bed, not stopping until his nose was nuzzling into Eskel’s chest, legs tangling themselves in Eskel’s as his hands, to Eskel’s growing horror, quickly found their way under the back of his shirt to circle around him and tug him close. But not as close as they used to be able to be, not with his stomach in the way, pushing Jaskier away as Jaskier’s cold fingers leeched the heat from him.

Jaskier hummed, and Eskel counted the seconds as they rolled over into a minute. Two. Three. He knew it would come eventually. The questions, the ‘why’s, the ‘what happened to you’ and the disappointed pursing of those pretty pink lips. He managed to wrap his arms loosely around Jaskier as he waited for it all to come. There was no doubt in his mind that Jaskier would love him no matter what - he’d proven that point time and time again - but love wasn’t the only thing that held them together, that kept them company at night, and it wasn’t something he’d struggled to find throughout his long life.

After all, his family loved him. Vesemir had raised him and they’d become closer after the sacking of the keep, feeling like family rather than what they’d been before. His brothers as well, no matter that they got under each other’s skin like no one else could. Eskel knew love, knew it well, it was no stranger to him - but Jaskier had brought so much along with it that Eskel couldn’t- he just couldn’t.

How many times had Jaskier run his hands all over him, over even his scars, over every part of him that he hid from the world in shame and Jaskier had called him beautiful. Every place Jaskier’s fingers had traveled so had his lips, brushing against him as if Eskel was a precious thing and not some mutated imitation of a human. And Eskel had gotten used to it, that tenderness, the way his heart would flutter and feel so full at every honeyed word of praise that would drip from Jaskier’s lips.

What must he think of him now? The strong arms that Jaskier had purred about the first time he’d pressed a palm into Eskel’s erection through his pants, the strength that used to have Jaskier fawning over him - it was covered, now, hidden under a thick layer of fat from all the nothing he’d done all winter.

“If you think much harder the neighbors will hear your thoughts.”

Eskel blinked out of the darkening spots of his mind. When he tilted his head down just enough to look at Jaskier he found his love frowning up at him, a bit of his lip worrying between his teeth, brow furrowed but only just.

Guilt tinged at the edge of the self-loathing that had been building a nice home in his chest, because that was a look he’d only ever seen once on Jaskier. It was concern, nervousness, and the way he so carefully held himself back instead of pushing all of the emotions to the forefront meant he was feeling something he wanted to hide.

Jaskier didn’t hide himself. Not unless he thought he wasn’t good enough, and that self-doubt was only reserved for those closest to his heart. And Eskel had made him doubt himself somehow, some way, and he had no right putting those feelings on him.

“I’m fine, Jask.” Those weren’t the words he meant. ‘It’s fine. Everything’s fine, everything’s alright’, he meant, and he soothed a hand in circles on Jaskier’s back, bringing him as close as his protruding stomach would allow.

“You’re not.” He could tell by the worrying of his bottom lip that those weren’t Jaskier’s words either, but Eskel wasn’t sure what doubts had wriggled their way into his mind and nor did he know the why’s.

Words weren’t his strong suit, and personal communication wasn’t Jaskier’s. But seven years they’d been together and Eskel wasn’t going to let his own shortcomings get in the way.

“Something the matter, songbird?”

Jaskier snorted lightly, but he nuzzled into his chest. A good sign.

“You’re the one who’s so tense. Stiff as a board, which is entirely unlike you. Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

‘What happened to you?’ Eskel swallowed against the thick lump in his throat, leaning his cheek against the top of Jaskier’s head and willing himself to relax.

“Not currently,” he admitted. His injury might still bug him but it wasn’t a pressing issue, didn’t even get in the way of him sparring or fighting anymore - not like it had all winter, after his damned brothers had noticed it, much to Eskel’s frustration. He’d tried to hide it and carry on like normal, but one misstep had caused his leg to give out under him, exasperating the injury and making his brothers and Vesemir infuriatingly stubborn over him resting and not doing a single task that might upset it further.

It had meant no sparring. No training of any sort. Just laying or sitting around or only doing the simplest of tasks while he got fat off of Vesemir’s home cooking, the muscles in his arms and legs softening from lack of use, and soon the definition that had been built on the path was nowhere to be seen. Eskel had never been more self-conscious about his body which was saying something given every waking moment someone found some way to remind him of what he looked like.

People were afraid of him. Of what he was, of what he could do. They saw his scars and the scent of fear always lingered, like they knew in the back of their mind they weren’t safe no matter how careful he was to make his presence known and not sneak up on anyone, how he kept his hands visible at all times, how he moved slowly and deliberately so they knew he meant them no harm.

He’d lived with all of that for so long, but none of it prepared him for this. For knowing he could have stopped this, could have kept himself in shape.

So, no, he was not hurt. His leg only cramped every now and then, the injury more or less healed, but Eskel was not fine and he wouldn’t be until-

The spiral was stopped with a kiss. Nothing lingering, nothing passionate, just a peck to his lips that brought him right back from wherever his mind had been trying to drag him to. And he was met with the softest expression he’d ever seen Jaskier wear, with fingers caressing his cheek, the sound of his love’s heartbeat a little faster than it should have been.

“Where were you going, dearheart?” His words were soft with emotion, the self-doubt nowhere to be seen anymore. A small blessing within whatever curse Eskel was winding around them, ruining their long awaited meeting with. “Don’t hide whatever it is from me. If you can, if you want, you know I’ll listen.”

Eskel wanted to laugh at that, because how could he hide it when not even his shirt could cover up his shame. But he didn’t. Instead he curled up tighter around his songbird, tucking Jaskier up under his chin once more so he didn’t have to see the concern on his face anymore.

Talk about it... would that do them any good? Would facing it head on, ripping off the bandaid, be any better than waiting for Jaskier to eventually say something? Maybe it would be. Maybe it would be worse. But Eskel was tired from the road, tired of second and third guessing whether he should have showed up at all, and when he was tired the small, small parts of him that dared to reach out for comfort had more sway in his thoughts and actions.

“It won’t take long to get rid of it.” Eskel murmured the words into his lover’s hair, as if hiding them could hide his shame. “Just a month or so at most. Then I’ll be back to normal.” He’d be better then. He could do it by then. Just...a month, maybe two, he could ask Jaskier for that much.

“Normal?” Jaskier tried to peek his head back up but Eskel held him too tightly, not wanting to face him, so Jaskier gave up with a sigh pressed into his collarbone alongside a few soft kisses. “So something is wrong then - I can’t help you if you don’t speak clearly, dearheart. What are you getting rid of? Are you ill- should we be seeking out a witch? A healer? Oh please don’t tell me I have to see Yen already, that is not how I want to start out my year.”

Bringing up that old rivalry was enough to draw a chuckle out of him, no matter how short lived the humor was - and no matter that Yennefer and Jaskier apparently got along just fine. Half of the time, anyway. Eskel did not envy Geralt any of that nonsense, though it had seemed to calm down significantly once Jaskier had switched his witcher hyperfocus onto Eskel.

The old rivalry aside... Eskel shifted around, a little uncomfortable that Jaskier was going to make him draw such blunt attention to his issue. That he was making him say it flat out instead of letting him talk around it. Bluntness was usually how Eskel dealt with his issues anyway, most of them at the very least, but when they were so personal he preferred to not and just...not bother anyone with them in the first place.

Bothering Jaskier with it was unavoidable, given that he hadn’t stayed away. That was something he was going to have to live with until he fixed it. The right diet might help him do that faster, a stricter training regime, he could do it, would do it.

But if Jaskier wanted blunt, wanted him to throw it out open and ugly between them, Eskel didn’t have the energy to keep talking in circles around him.

“I got fat.” As if to mock him, with his next deep breath he felt his stomach press against Jaskier, putting more distance between them as it pushed him away. And when Jaskier made some sort of gargled noise in his throat Eskel had to shut his eyes tight against it.

This was it. This was when Jaskier would tell him how he’d noticed the instant he’d seen Eskel from across the bar. How he’d seen his shirt straining to contain the lot of him back, how it had made him hesitant to touch him - maybe that’s why he’d rushed them off to the room, Eskel thought suddenly. Jaskier hadn’t wanted to be seen with him, hadn’t wanted to be embarrassed by him, and this was when he’d hear what he’d been dreading all along.

Jaskier would still love him, Eskel did not doubt that. But how could he still be attracted to him like this? How could he still trace his scars with calloused yet gentle fingers, murmur words of praise against a body that had hardly deserved it before and certainly didn’t now. It had been a stretch of anyone’s imagination to call Eskel beautiful but he’d wanted to believe it, but not even Jaskier, his beloved songbird who’d seen good in the darkest of places, seen the good in those who wanted nothing more than to shy away and hide from the world - not even he could look at him now and see-

“And?”

His thoughts stopped again, and Eskel had to circle back to that word. Circle back and puzzle on it, puzzle on the question, because he wasn’t sure why the question was posed in the first place. There was no ‘and’, it was...just that. It was what it was, and wasn’t...wasn’t that bad enough?

Jaskier didn’t wait for his answer. Or perhaps the minute Eskel took trying to catch up with what the question might mean was too long and he continued without one anyway. “What’s so wrong with gaining weight? We do it every winter. Lucky enough to, even, I’ve seen too many starving people begging for food during the worst of them.”

That… Eskel tucked Jaskier up closer before he had a chance to try to escape his lax arms, ignoring his grumbling when he did. It was true that they both tended to gain a few pounds over the winters. No matter if Jaskier went off to see his family (a very rare occurrence) or spent the time teaching at his old academy, he always came back with a nice layer of plush to him that Eskel loved to knead and feel. Hips softer, stomach making for a wonderful pillow, his thighs becoming squishable in a way that made Eskel want to bury himself between them.

And Eskel himself usually left home with a more rounded shape, but that was…

“That’s different.” It was nothing like this year, nothing like how he looked like now. No matter that he didn’t feel all that different, that perhaps it wasn’t that much more weight than the previous years, this time it was so much more.

Some thought reminded him that didn’t quite track, but the thought didn’t stick, tossed away because this time was different.

“How is it any different? Eskel just- your neck and chest are gorgeous, love, but can I please look at your face while I’m talking to you?”

Eskel relented, reluctantly letting up his hold so Jaskier could move back far enough to meet his eyes. At least he didn’t look as disgusted as he thought he might, his nose scrunched up in a way he’d always found rather cute, his lips pursed and promising him a tongue lashing if he wasn’t careful.

But his words weren’t harsh accusations when he continued, and his hands had yet to leave Eskel’s body. One came back up to stroke a thumb over his cheek as Jaskier spoke softly to him, his words filled with the wrong kind of wonder.

“What’s wrong, love? What’s different? Tell me.”

There had only ever been two people who could make him squirm under their gaze like that, and it was one of the main reasons Vesemir had had much better luck with him than any of the other wolf teachers. It was difficult to not listen, to bite back his tongue and not talk when leveled with that exact look and maybe it was a little concerning that Jaskier and Vesemir both shared that power over him.

Eskel sighed. Refused to look up at Jaskier, fixing his gaze somewhere in the dark curls that peeked up over his loose chemise. Fidgeted and tried not to fidget and only ended up fidgeting more.

“I didn’t,” he started, then stalled, not sure how to put all of his shortcomings to words. But he had to at least try, lest that look turn to the worse disappointed one. “I could have done better. Didn’t do anything all winter, really, just…”

As he went along, it didn’t get any easier, though Jaskier’s fingers had started to rub a soothing pattern into his back. The ones resting on his cheek held him softly even over his scars, never flinching away, never twitching in annoyance. Jaskier just held him and waited patiently, as if he had all the time in the world for Eskel to chew out what was wrong and different.

“On the way up the mountain, I fucked up my leg. Couldn’t train. Couldn’t help.” It all tasted as bitter then as it had during the winter. Forcing his brothers to pick up his slack, not being anything but a burden on the lot of them. Even when he tried he’d only made things worse, pissing Lambert off and making Geralt grouse at him like he was some baby witcher who’d never even gone out on the path before. All he’d been able to do was laze around and grow fat, muscles flabby and losing their strength, he should have been better and he could get better- would get better, for all of them.

Jaskier brushed his lips lightly against his jaw, and Eskel couldn’t help but look at him then. The way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, the way sunlight lit up his features and made his skin glow. Gods but his songbird was beautiful; how could he possibly deserve him, now especially?

Those lips brushed all the way up to his own, pausing every so often to leave soft kisses in their wake, until Jaskier was kissing him. It was one Eskel slowly melted into, pressing back, soft and slow and lingering until his hand was tangling in soft brown curls as he gently nipped the lip Jaskier had been worrying between his teeth.

“Dearheart,” Jaskier murmured between their kisses, his cornflower blue eyes gentle as they met Eskel’s, “I’m not sure I understand. Can you help me try?”

Eskel would be willing to do anything if Jaskier requested it in that voice. All he could do was nod and continue to brush their lips together, breathing him in, letting their noses brush together as well just to feel the soft contact between them.

“Thank you, love.” And he meant it, Eskel could hear it in his tone, could feel it in the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Now, please, can we try this again? You’ll have to talk to me like I’m the single most oblivious person in the world just to make sure I follow every step of the way. Alright?”

Eskel did. He started with his fall, how it had fucked up his leg so badly that Scorpion was the only reason he was still alive. Continued on to how he tried to hide the injury - and did not miss the pinched look that promised him they’d be revisiting that little fact at a later date, but Jaskier, somewhat out of character, managed to bite his tongue and save the lecture for later - and how it had ended up making it worse. How he’d been refused to contribute in any fashion after that, burdening his family and growing fat off their food anyway, his injury preventing him from keeping up with himself until he got worse and worse from it.

At some point, the hand that had been soothing circles into his back moved, slowly coming forward until it rested on his stomach. Eskel tensed when it did, though he fought past the urge to bite off his words and stop speaking. But eventually it wasn’t up to him anyway, Jaskier gently cutting him off with another kiss, and then another, and another until Eskel was melting though he hadn’t even realized how tense he’d become.

“Okay. Alright. Now, I’m going to repeat what I believe you’re trying to say, but love,” Jaskier kissed him again a few times, then reached up to kiss his nose, and Eskel wasn’t sure why he was being so extra tender with him today. “I need you to know I don’t believe these things, and that I’m not teasing or judging you for them. Alright?”

Eskel managed to nod but his words were gone. All he wanted to do was sleep, perhaps roll over so his stomach wasn’t pressing into Jaskier - it was probably uncomfortable though Jaskier hadn’t tried to pull away from him quite yet.

“You think you’re fat, and you think that’s a bad thing.” Eskel tried to nod at that as well but Jaskier shook his head, kissing his nose again as his hand began to gently caress the front of Eskel’s stomach. “You think that you...that you were a burden on your family, and that- this is the part that I’m struggling with, Esk, I’m having to make some assumptions here but- you think you’re not...worthy? If you’re not thinner and more visibly muscular, is that it?”

Jaskier’s face was pinched up when he said that. It wasn’t an expression Eskel had an easy time reading. His own lips pursed, but that sounded about right. He wasn’t good like this and was only holding them all back.

But Jaskier shook his head, such concern written in the wrinkle of his brow that Eskel could only frown at his own thoughts. “Esk. Eskel, dearest, dearheart. Why would you ever think that?”

His words were gentle but they were breathed in a rough whisper, Jaskier’s fingers finding their way underneath the shirt that could barely hold back Eskel’s stomach. But instead of pinching or grabbing the fat they found they just gently soothed over his skin, rubbing circles there as they’d done so many times before. As if he wasn’t different now, as if it was normal.

“I’m not…” He struggled to find the words, licking his lips, not for the first time wishing he was better at talking about this, talking about himself. Sure, he would never be as bad as Geralt, but Eskel struggled and floundered so much when the attention was on him that he could never begrudge Geralt’s stunted emotions. “Jask, I’m just not… I’m not attractive like this.”

Jaskier gasped, and Eskel’s eyes snapped back up to his face to find so many emotions flickering across it that he couldn’t keep track of them all. “Eskel you- you take that back this instant! You are the single most handsome man I’ve come across on this whole continent and that’s saying something.”

Even with Jaskier being so earnest with his words, Eskel would never believe him about that. Though his heart wanted to believe that Jaskier believed it, or at least believed him to be attractive, handsome, beautiful, precious, all of the things Jaskier had pressed against his skin and whispered in his ear over the years they’d been together.

That hand continued to caress his stomach as if it wasn’t pushing them apart, the calloused fingers pushing through the hairs there. Rubbing, lightly brushing the back of his fingers against him, gently painting patterns onto his skin as if there was a picture there that only Jaskier could see. Eskel had wanted to move away from the touch, had wanted to flinch at it, hide his shame, shy away, but under the gentle affection he found himself relaxing. It soothed the ache in his chest until he couldn’t listen to his own thoughts anymore, focused in on what Jaskier was telling him.

“Esk, there’s nothing wrong with this.” His touch became just the slightest bit firmer, massaging his stomach as he brushed their noses together, his other hand still on Eskel’s cheek. “This is good, this is healthy, it’s not something bad or wrong.” Jaskier kissed the protest that was forming right off of Eskel’s lips, not letting his mind catch up and throw out how Jaskier was very wrong about that. “Eskel I would much much rather see you like this - healthy, soft, thick and sexy - versus when the path gets rough and you’ve not had anything to eat for a week.”

“Sexy?”

“We’ll get back to that.” Pink suddenly splattered Jaskier’s cheeks and his eyes flickered down to Eskel’s stomach, though Eskel made no move to hide it from view. “Look, just, this is good. I need you to hear that, know that. The soft protects your muscles, something I know you already know, but it’s a good thing. Dehydration, starvation, those are terrifying and very much not what I want my beloved witcher to deal with during the winter.

“Speaking of, what is so wrong with getting some rest for your injured leg, which you could barely stand on let alone walk and fight and train on.”

Ah. There it was. Eskel had the decency to at least blush when he shot Jaskier a grin, though it earned the tip of his nose a nip - the whole while Jaskier’s hand never once pausing where it was slowly massaging and caressing his stomach.

“Bloody witchers, the lot of you are ridiculous.”

“You love me,” Eskel teased, half just to hear him admit it.

And Jaskier did, without a single moment’s hesitation, without any regret to be heard in his voice, “I do, dearest. I do. Every single inch of you.” Eskel’s heart picked up as Jaskier kissed down his jawline, peppering kisses down his neck, stopping at his collarbone as his hand slipped from his cheek to follow him. The hand at his stomach was still tracing idle patterns, not caring if his skin was scarred or not, as if every single inch of skin there deserved the attention - no matter how much there was.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispered again, right over his heart, and Eskel’s breath caught in his throat.

Jaskier kissed down, down, down all the way to his stomach. Kissing his shirt on the way as if it wasn’t there, as if it was Eskel’s bare skin he was adoring with affection. And when he reached his stomach Eskel tried for a moment to suck it in, to make it appear smaller, but Jaskier was having none of it. He wrinkled his nose and scowled up at Eskel with a firm, “be nice to it, I love it,” and Eskel didn’t have it in himself to argue then.

Though Eskel was much stronger than Jaskier, he moved easily when Jaskier pushed him onto his back. His beloved songbird made himself cozy between his thighs as he gently caressed his stomach and sides, his nose brushing just above his naval before his lips joined in. And Eskel had to blink the tears away because Jaskier continued on. Peppered him with kiss after kiss, tracing the stretch marks that stood against his tanned skin, showing him over and over without poetic songs or honeyed words that he was loved. That this part of him was loved.

Kisses on his soft skin wherever Jaskier could reach. Gentle fingers caressing and tracing patterns. Eskel almost squirmed over it all, just the side of too much, but he wanted it. Wanted to feel loved, wanted to be loved, to deserve all of this. Though he didn’t believe he did, he wanted desperately, reaching out a hand to grasp one of Jaskier’s and hold onto him tightly.

“Jask.” It sounded like a request, though he wasn’t sure what he was asking for. Jaskier continued on kissing him, stopping to press his lips against a rather nasty burn scar on his side, kissing all the way up and pushing his shirt out of the way as he went. He made sure to love every scar he passed along the way, knowing each by heart though he knew so few of the stories - Eskel kept most of his past to himself, much to Jaskier’s usual chagrin, but today was not a day for pressed questions.

Eventually, Jaskier worked the shirt off entirely, throwing it off to the side and kissing Eskel’s lips once firmly before going back to his chest. He laid mostly against him, showering his softened chest with love and affection..

Careful with his grip, Eskel held him tight. Blinked away some of the more stubborn tears as Jaskier kissed soft words onto him, murmurs that etched their way onto his heart, and Eskel knew without a doubt that he would never forget this day no matter how long he might live.

But there were some doubts wriggling around in his head that he couldn’t quite shake. Instead of letting them fester, instead of letting them spiral out of control, Eskel held onto Jaskier tight, and with a small voice he reached out to him.

“Is it too much?”

Jaskier pressed a kiss right over his heart, blue eyes fluttering as he looked up at him, a look of sheer adoration that was just for him clear on that pretty face. “Is what too much, love?”

It took all that he was not to fidget or look away. “Me. My stomach. My- well, just me.”

“No, love.” Another kiss over his quickening heartbeat. “You’re perfect, you’d never be too much.”

“It didn’t fit anymore.”

“What didn’t?” Yet another, before Jaskier laid his ear against his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns into his side.

“My shirt.” Eskel turned his head to see it laying crumpled on the ground.

“We’ll buy a new one.” The fingers lightened their touch on his skin, and Eskel had to bite his lip as they traveled across his ribs.

“I don’t have the coin to waste on new clothes.”

“I do.”

The fingers at his side continued on running over his ribs, and finally Eskel couldn’t keep back the fidgeting, his mouth quirking into an unintentional grin at the ticklish feeling. All of which did not go unnoticed as he jostled Jaskier with his jerking. His songbird first looked up at him with momentary confusion before he understood what had happened, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips as his stalled fingers started to tap against Eskel’s skin.

“I’m sorry, love, but is there something wrong?”

Eskel rolled his eyes but snickered when Jaskier poked just the right spot between two of his ribs, unable to help himself. And Jaskier, having discovered after all this time that Eskel was ticklish, of course descended upon him, assaulting both of his sides until Eskel’s laughter was booming in the air around them.

He could have shoved him off. Could have tossed him off the bed or held his hands above his head. But instead Eskel allowed it until a different emotion prickled at the corners of his eyes, and then he flipped them, laying on Jaskier and nosing into the crook of his neck and just. Just laid there, the ends of laughter still keeping him light, his beloved songbird doing a horrible impression of pouting while snuggling him close and kissing his hair.

“I love you.” The words caught on a lump in his throat but Eskel meant them so much, closing his eyes and burrowing himself into his songbird. And Eskel believed Jaskier when he said “I love you too,” believed him with his whole heart.

One afternoon could not erase the thoughts that had clouded Eskel’s mind, but it was a good afternoon, and Eskel could not find a single regret over coming to Jaskier that spring. He could never regret not hiding from him, not hiding his softer stomach and softer thighs, because in that moment he knew that Jaskier found him beautiful and beloved all the same with or without them.

The rest could come later. The rest of his mental healing, but for now this was enough of a start, and Eskel reveled in the tender love Jaskier showered him in.

--

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

[hpdabbles]

Do you think Regulus will ever realise that Harry's "crush" is actually harry missing his godfather? Anyway, can you write Harry's continued 'Destroy the horcruxes' mission as well as the order's reaction to a death-eater helping them? Maybe in dumbledor's POV or even one of the mauraders.

Regulus found the book of songs by accident while searching for clues on where his husband had disappeared to.

Songs filled with longing for Sirius Black and the life they could have had after the war. It broke him to pieces.

He's man enough to admit he has fallen for his husband, he can't really claim when it happened just, that at some point during the months he come to know Harry, he woke in the dead of night reaching for a man with green eyes and a madding smile, chasing the whisps of his dream Starlight, I'm right here for you.

He is madly in love with Harry, who was equally infuriating, mysterious, and soothing. A man who made him face the worst parts of himself and yet, acted like Regulus was not less for them, instead, his imperfections made him perfect.

A man who disappeared in the middle of a war and no matter how much this book of songs broke him he needed to find Harry.

It had been four days since he lost saw him, after a nasty raid that showed Regulus really shouldn't be on the front lines compared to Harry who was a straight beast on the battlefield.

Regulus took down two Death Eaters on his own, struggling the whole time, while Harry not only protected the Thomas family but took out seven at the same time. Even if the raid turned into a trap midway, they managed to get out with everyone in the Thomas household safe, and Harry only bleeding from four different wounds.

Compared to many other victims of attacks this was a miracle.

They were lucky that Harry had saved Mr.Thomas once before when he refused to join the Death Eaters. Harry hadn't known the man's name at the time, just saving him because he could, and handing him a charmed coin just in the case, thus giving him the means to send out a distress call when the Death Eaters attempted a second attack, this time finding the man sleeping next to his pregnant muggle wife.

You would think Harry would be happy to have prevented a tragic death but it was upon learning Mr. Thomas's name that his face paled. When they came back to the tent, Harry had been sullen, running his hands over themselves, looking like he had killed his own mother.

Regulus repeated questioning him about it, even while dressing Harry's wounds with the very advanced healing magic he learned while being support for Death Eaters until Harry had blurted. "Dean's younger siblings. He loved them. He loved his step-dad. I...I killed his family."

He refused to speak more on it. Regulus had no idea who Dean was, none of the Death eaters were killed, only restrained and those were the only people he could have killed.

But Harry remained resigned about the deaths of Dean's younger siblings and step-father and what Regulus do if not honor them? He set up a memorial altar in the middle of the tent's living area as per pureblood tradition in mourning and Harry had looked at him with such gratitude it set his heart aflame.

Harry had left the tent sometime during the night while he was sleeping, something his husband had a nasty habit of doing even months after their marriage.

He knew, on some level, that Harry was doing important things for the war. He wasn't quite sure what they were, other than searching for the remaining Horcruxes since Voldemort had not hidden them in a place Harry knew.

It irked him that Harry left him behind, fretting like a child instead of his equal. But Harry always came back, if not hours then at least within a day.

Something has happened to him.

He puts the book back, knowing that his broken heart has no place in war. It is not the only one weeping. Regulus knows that others have lost people to the war on both sides, and unless he sees it with his own eyes, he refuses to believe Harry is one of the dead.

Searching his room has yielded no clues, nor anything else in the tent. He had tried to see if anyone had any information two days ago to the same results. It could be that no one had been paying attention to the man but his husband is still too much of a high-profile figure for everyone to have overlooked him.

Regulus is stumped and with no other idea what to do, he puts on his cloak and swallows his pride. He needs help, which means he can only ask one particular group for said help.

He makes his way to the wizarding world, keeping his face hidden under a heavy cloak. Around him many people, rush by in hurry, eyes darting around just as weary as Regulus. There is silence in the streets, no one would dare linger in public for too long now that the war has taken a turn for the worst in the favor of Death Eaters, so no one pays mind when Regulus scurries to the apartment complex that houses the less than liked members of their society.

This place housed vampires, werewolves, and the poor who couldn't afford anywhere else. He only cares about one poor man in the place, a certain werewolf that Harry was sure was a Fire Hatchling.

Regulus only knows about it because Harry had created a string board in the middle of their kitchen to track the movement of the Order of Phoenix. Once, the shorter man had sat him down and aggressively explained who was who and how they were moving.

Since the Order of Phoniex is a resistance group that was far more elusive than the Death Eaters, Regulus wasn't very sure Harry got them right but he looked half-crazed, his hair sticking all over the place in stress as he traced string after string explaining how this evidence and that evidence proved the identity of Fire Hatchlings

Harry had loved when Regulus coined the name "Fire Hatchlings" for those in the order as most of them were young and well, the phoenix is fire, crossing out "Order members" with an evil laugh.

Regulus had found him unexplainably adorable.

Shaking away the memories, he pushes forward, only hesitating for a moment once he got to room thirty-three, have of the large three had fallen off. Next to the door, is a ward anchor, hidden to look like a pot of a flower. He only noticed it, since it was one of the larger areas with strings that surrounded it, proof this is a home to a fire hatchling after all.

Of course, his mad husband was right about this. Hopefully, he would be willing to help him find the man so he could hear Harry gloat about it.

Regulus knocks.

The moment the door opens three things happen at once.

First, months of training daily with Harry gives him the proper reflexes to drop to the ground as a hex shoots right where his head was a second ago.

Second, He throws his own spell in the same second, his Patronus of a tiger leaps up, knocking Remus Lupin off his feet, pinning the werewolf down with a sneer.

Third, Harry tied to a chair with James Potter and Frank Longbottom pointing their wands at him shouts in glee. "I told you he would find me!"

Regulus only has a second to blow him a kiss and wink-he will regret the action later, embarrassed by his forward behavior- before Longbottom and Potter are on him. He will not lie and claim he thinks he is ready for them, but Harry was the best darn defense teacher anyone can ask for.

That man taught him how to cast a Patronus with nothing more than a good memory. Regulus had gained some muscle by running away from Harry's powerful spells too.

He knew more spells than most wizards did but never had the confidence to cast, which according to Harry, his magic sense and failed each time. Now, Regulus has a full arsenal of spells from all over the world, from across time as his obsession with haunting the library has caused.

His love has successfully whipped him into shape simply for pushing him to try and training him in his sort comings. He is happy to find he is able to keep the two Aurors on their toes as Harry cheers him on.

Harry's face is covered in wounds, his wearing the same clothes he had when he snuck out and there are traces of bile on his lap and floor around him.

He was captured by the Fire Hatchlings and was in the middle of being interrogated. Of course, he was.

"Give me my husband!" Regulus sneers happy his tiger is keeping the werewolf busy. He thinks he would not be able to beat all three.

"Stand down!" Longbottom shouts back throwing up a shield to hide behind as Regulus three rapid-fire hex hit against it.

"My hero!" Harry crows, seconds before he flings himself, chair and all, at Potter his magic whirling around in wandless magic to leave him off the ground. He flies across the room crashing into a shook Potter's back knocking the man down. "My knight in shining armor!"

He then continues to use his own bounded body as a batting ram against the confused wizard, screeching the whole time.

It's such a strange sight that all other wizards stop to watch, horrified to see such a muggle way to use magic, beating a pureblood, until the chair breaks over Potter's head.

the way the wood shatters has Longbottom turning slightly ready to run to Potter's aid. That's all the opening Regulus needs to hit with the strongest sleeping charm he knows, watching the man drop, already snoring.

"James!" Lupin horrified scream has Harry struggling out of the remaining bounds to pick the man up. He presses his hands on Potter's neck, checking for a pulse.

Regulus winces when Lupin swings an arm out, knocking off the tiger with werewolf strength, it causes a slight ache in his chest to see the silver glowing animal slam against the wall. "Get away from him!"

Lupin is not prepared for Harry to pick up Potter's wand and start firing spells at him, much faster than any of them. He tries to put up a fight he really does, but it is obvious that Lupin is outclassed.

Regulus sneaks closer until he can press his wand against the back of Lupin's head and casts the same sleeping charm.

In the silence that follows, Regulus can only look up in time to see a flash of relief as Harry gently puts Potter on the ground.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes Starlight, you came just in time." Harry smiles. He looks exhausted now that the battle has ended. "I finished"

"Finished?"

"The Hoxruces. They're gone."

Regulus blinks only for Harry to pass out too with a laugh, the sound of joy fading out as he hit the ground.

[halfway-happyyy]

I've been losing my mind working at a mall on a stand type of thing all by myself and was wondering if you could write a nice piece of Alex coming over to help me spend the time after I text him something like "Please come save me, this is so boring." which leads to him flirting with me and maybe taking me to his place for some good time. 😏 All help to spend my shift entertained is so very welcomed. 😂 Also, love your writing to bits and you're my favourite writer in a long time. ❤

hello friend! thanks for requesting! changed this up a little bit, hope ya don’t mind. it is under a cut because it’s a little long and spicy. tw: oral sex

“I have something to tell you,”

Disappointment dripped from his tone even over the crackle of the telephone wire and she knew immediately what he was about to tell her.

“I won’t be home for Christmas this year, kid.”

She let the silence take shape around them, took a hearty sip of her wine while she counted the seconds in between and then simply said, “Okay, Alex.”

“I tried to figure out a way to get away from set for a few days and it’s just… it’s not in the cards this year. I’m sorry, my love.”

She had never once faulted him for this. How could she? Acting- working, was something that came as naturally to him as breathing and so it was something that she accepted when they decided to give this thing a proper go. She just wasn’t always happy about it. “Don’t apologize, Alex. I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’m sure there will be mountains of leftovers for you, so we can have our own dinner when you get here.”

An audible sigh of relief on the other end. “Have I told you yet today?”

Her face broke into a wide grin and she shook her head. “Nope.”

“I love you endlessly, kid.”

God, just hearing those five words never got old.

“I love you too, Alex.”

~

Old man Winter had taken her city by storm, and a healthy heaping of fresh snow covered nearly every surface in sight. As the coffee machine in the corner of the café spluttered to life- the familiar first sounds of a day on the verge of starting, she watched the world outside her small window rouse from its stillness. It never really went to sleep, but there were moments that the noise dwindled to a low hum and she found something satisfying in watching it resume its natural cacophony. Her eyes fell shut as she inhaled the tantalizing aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and the croissants baking in the oven and she turned the corner to the back room to marvel at her baker Cait, as she rolled out the second batch of bread dough for the day. An apprentice baker at the tender age of twenty-two, and already inexplicably talented, she had been a total godsend to her team, and she smiled at the thought of it.

“Good morning, Cait. Coffee’s ready when you are.”

Her baker glanced up from her ministrations, traces of flour dusted her forehead and the side of her cheek and she beamed happily. “Sounds good boss. I’m just about finished with this run.”

Nodding her head, she ducked out of the back room, returning to the front so that she could finish putting the last tray of fresh butter tarts into the front showcase. Dusting her hands on her apron, she surveyed the café one last time before heading to the front window to flip around the closed sign. She stood for a moment to watch fat snowflakes fall in droves from the steel-grey sky and wondered how busy the shop could possibly be with weather like that. The timer on the oven sounded the end of the croissants baking time, and she walked the short distance to the rational where she pulled on a pair of mitts and took them out, placing them on the silver rack next to her. Tossing the mitts on top of the rack, she took the liberty of making Cait’s coffee the way that she knew she liked it and brought it into the back room for her.

“Think it’s going to be busy today?” Cait asked, with a sigh.

She glanced up at the calendar above their heads and frowned. Sunday before Christmas. “Hard to tell. But I hope so,” She had been about to say something else, but the familiar tinkle of bells above the front door rang out signaling the arrival of a customer. Taking a healthy sip of the delicious amber liquid, she excused herself to attend to their first patron of the day. Rounding the corner into the café, her breath hitched in her throat when she caught sight of Alexander’s figure in the doorway; head down and brushing flakes of snow from the sleeves of his navy pea coat. When he was finished, he lifted his gaze to hers and smiled. “Hi, kid.”

She untied the apron around her stomach and threw it onto the hook next to her, closing the gap between them in seconds. Reaching up on tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “You’re here,” She murmured, breathlessly.

He rubbed reassuring circles into her back and nodded his head. “Surprise.”

They stayed embraced for a long while, each reveling in the feeling of being home in one another’s arms.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, eventually.

“Yes, coffee please. It was an early morning.”

She reached up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and excused herself to make his coffee. “Anything else?” She called out.

He cocked his head to the side; a simpering look tugged the edges of his lips upward and she could not ignore the mischievous glint in his blue eyes, or the way that it caused goosebumps to bloom over her arms. “Yes, actually. I was wondering if you’d like to come home with me.”

Her eyes widened and she elicited a breathless laugh. “Come home with you? Right now?”

Alexander nodded his head finitely. “Yes, right this very minute.”

She had been about to protest, but Cait cleared her throat from behind her and stepped forward, her voice low. “Henry just pulled in out back. Go enjoy yourself.”

“What about the shop? What if it gets busy?”

Cait resisted the urge to roll her hazel eyes, and instead shrugged her shoulders. “We can handle it. Go on.”

Alexander lifted his coffee in cheers and tossed a wink her way. “Thanks, Cait.”

~

Their walk home had been silent save for the muted crunch of snow beneath their boots. There had been a lot of things that she wanted to ask him, a lot that she wanted to say to him, but she found she was content just to have him beside her, to have the warmth of his hand envelop her own. They had managed to make it home before the snow started getting really bad, and she was beyond grateful to have the rest of the day with him. Discarding their winter attire in the front hall closet, he led her by hand to their bedroom at the end of the hall where he entered and took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I’ve missed you kid,” He mused. She closed the gap between them to stand between his parted thighs and cradled his head in her hands. His arms encircled her waist, and he pressed a series of gentle kisses to her clothed chest.

“I’ve missed you too, Alex.”

He pulled away to gaze up at her, his glassy blue orbs alight with a fire she had come to recognize well. She could lose herself for hours in those eyes if she wanted to; flecks of gold in whirlpools of azure, they were her favourite physical feature of his.

Alexander pushed a stray whisp of hair behind her ear, sighing contedly. “What is that breathtaking mind of yours thinking of, hm?” He murmured.

She traced a featherlight fingertip from his temple down to the chiseled line of his jaw. “Nothing you haven’t heard before.”

Alexander brought her hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it, tenderly. “Undress for me?”

She stepped back against the wall to do as she was asked, toying with the hem of her t shirt as she did so. She lifted it up past her abdomen, over her neck, and dropped it to the hardwood floor beneath her. Unzipping her jeans, she shimmied out of the constricting denim and watched it pool around her feet. She noticed the erection growing steadily in the crotch of her lover’s own jeans and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth at the mere thought of it. Reaching around her back for the clasp on her bra, she undid that too and let the flimsy fabric fall to the ground, gathering with the rest of the discarded clothing. Taking a steadying breath, she pulled the panties from her legs and kicked them to the side, now entirely naked before him. Alexander cleared his throat and rose from the bed, only to drop to his knees, fully clothed, before her. His arms circled her hips as he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her lower belly. Sucking two fingers into his mouth, he got them slick with his spit, and teased them at her wet entrance. Quivering with unbridled anticipation above him, the weight of what was about to happen, was not at all lost on her as he pressed fiery kisses to the tops of her thighs and hipbones. Wordlessly, he had her lift her leg over his shoulder as he bent forward to lick a long, wet stripe up her slit. Stopping at the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top, he pressed warm, wet circles into it and was rewarded with a long, low groan from the base of her throat.

“Just like that, Alex…” She gasped.

He nodded against her. “I’ve got you, kid.”

Pressing a kiss to her clit, he repeated the kitten-lick up her core, earning him another loud, breathy moan. Pulling away from her, he blew a steady stream of cool air over her heated center, grinning at how her body sang for him. “You’re not going to last long, baby girl.”

She tilted her back against the wall, fingers finding purchase in the locks of hair that had grown tenfold since she had last laid eyes on him. She began to massage his head methodically, which caused him to groan longingly against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of white-hot pleasure straight to the center of her clit. Licking long, firm stripes up her core with the flat of his tongue he eventually began to fuck her with it, causing her to tremble violently above him.

“Don’t stop…” Her voice wavered warningly, as she ground herself against his face. Alexander listened to her words and to the exact way in which her body responded to his care and kept up the rhythm in which he was eating her out. Her orgasm began to build like a fire in the pit of her belly, the familiar coil of nerves wound unbearably tight and ready to unravel at a moment’s notice. “Oh, god…” Alexander gripped her hips in his hands, his fingernails leaving miniscule crescent-shaped indentations in the soft skin there. He alternated between fucking her with his tongue, and suckling at her clit, grazing his teeth along the sensitive bundle of nerves as he did so. She arched her back against his mouth, reveling in the extra sensation of his stubbled jaw against the velvety skin of her inner thighs. “Oh god, Alex- He groaned and nodded against her tight, wet core, coaxing the looming release from her. She stilled against his face, arching her back high against the wall as her orgasm ripped through her like a blaze out of control. She shivered against him as he continued to lap up every ounce of honey she had to offer him and when she had recovered for the most part, he placed open-mouthed kisses to her clit and rose off his knees, to tower above her. His eyes- though still the same hue of blue they were before he had gifted her with her orgasm, were now nearly black, his pupils dilated and blown over with lust. “I want you to come for me now,” She murmured, voice entirely wrecked for the time being. She peeled Alexander’s shirt from his body, throwing it next to the pile of her own discarded clothing. Unzipping his jeans, she pulled the useless material from his toned legs and tossed them off to the side. Glancing up, she noticed the head of his erect cock straining hard against the fabric of his sky-blue boxer briefs, had begun to leak pre-come, leaving a small, wet circle in the thin fabric. Her mouth watered hungrily at the memory of how it tasted, as she hooked two fingertips into the waistband of his underwear and smirked up at him. She teased the boxers down his thighs, his hard cock springing free from the all-consuming material. She watched a bead of pre-come glisten at the head- the urge to lap it up was almost unbearable.

“Go on, baby…” Alexander murmured. She took him into her hands, grasping him firmly, and licked a long stripe up from the base of his cock to the head, reveling in salty brininess of the fluid gathered at the head of his cock. She couldn’t resist taking more of him into her mouth, and she did until she felt him at the base of her throat. He groaned loudly and pushed a little farther in, causing tears to spring up in the depths of her eyes. “Fuck,” He groaned loudly. “Always taking this cock so fucking well, baby girl… every inch I have to give you,” He pulled out of the hot wetness of her mouth and jutted his chin out toward the bed. “On the bed, babe…” She passed the back of her hand over her mouth and rose from her feet to do as she was told. Falling back against the down pillows breathlessly, she watched with a hooded gaze as Alexander clambered onto the bed before her. He crawled up over her body so that he was straddling her chest and took his cock into his hand. “I know how much you love watching me touch myself.” He began to move a tight fist up and down the length of himself, tossing his head back each time he passed over a particularly sensitive spot. “Fuck,” He breathed out.

She watched a bead of pre-come roll down the underside of his shaft, and swallowed hard. “I want another taste,”

Alexander swiped a fingertip beneath his head to collect some of the moisture there and held it out for her to lick off, which she did happily. Sucking his fingertip into her mouth, he let her keep it there while he worked his fist harder down the length of his cock. “Jesus,” He gasped under his breath. “I’m close, baby…”

“Come for me, Alex… make a mess.”

Her pleas seemed to spur his orgasm on, and he dropped his head back as a low, desperate groan ripped from the base of his throat. His fist stilled against his sensitive head as he tumbled over the edge in violent waves, coating her breasts in his warm, opaque fluid. “Fuck,” He sighed after a few moments of trying to regulate his breathing. He lifted himself from her and off the bed, disappearing into their on-suite bathroom in search of a towel to clean her off. Approaching her, he wiped the towel gently over her chest and cleaned her off as best as he could. Sidling down into bed beside her, he gathered her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“Thanks for surprising me and rescuing me from work today, Alex.” She yawned, softly.

He kissed her tenderly. “Any damn day, kid. Merry Christmas.”

🤶🎄🎅🎁

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

R U Mine? - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Pairing: Kaminari Denki / F!reader Rating: 16+ Warnings: Profanity, recreational drug use Words: 3,504 AN: Hi this is the first BNHA fic I’ve ever written and published on the internet so uh...hi there. This is part of a collab put together by the wonderful @heroheads​ ❤️❤️❤️ Masterlist for the collab is HERE.

Buy me a KoFi?

-----

Sometimes it astounded you how dumb Denki Kaminari could be. 

He wasn’t a complete moron. At least, not all the time. Sometimes he could be really smart and insightful. He was competent when it came to using his quirk when it counted. He’d even surprised you in English class occasionally when he answered a question correctly about what you were reading.

This time, though, it was not one of his shining moments.

You were lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it) enough to share a wall with the electric hero in the UA dorms. He was usually decent enough to be quiet. Sometimes you could hear music through the wall, but it was never loud enough to complain about. He didn’t slam his door like Bakugou or stand creepily outside your room like Mineta. He was a decent neighbor and it wasn’t so bad that you’d ended up next to him.

However, he did have one habit that made you roll your eyes, and on that boring Saturday night at one in the morning, you were unsurprised to catch a whiff of something pungent wafting underneath your closed bedroom door.

You didn’t care that Denki smoked weed. You did too, occasionally. The issue was that the dumbass liked to take bong rips in the middle of his dorm room without shoving a towel under the door or opening a window. He was just asking to get caught and chucked right out of the hero program at this rate. 

You sighed, closing the book you’d been reading and standing from your bed. If he wasn’t going to try and prevent himself from getting caught, you had to take matters into your own hands. He was your friend, and that on top of the fact that you were harboring less than platonic feelings for him, made it feel like you had to help him. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to warn him, and you knew he probably didn’t even realize that he was stinking up the entire floor. Again.

Your slippers were quiet on the linoleum flooring as you stepped into the hallway, the smell of marijuana growing stronger as you walked next door. You knocked twice, stepping back and waiting as you heard Denki mutter quietly, knowing he was working on clearing up what he was doing in case you were a teacher, or even worse, Iida.

“If you don’t think Aizawa knows what weed smells like, Denks, then you’re stupider than I thought.” You said loud enough for him to hear you, holding back a giggle when you heard him curse to himself.

The door cracked open a moment later, bloodshot yellow eyes peering at you through the opening. “What’s the password?”

“Listen to me, derp face,” you said fondly, ignoring his request. “You need a towel under the door or a spoof if you’re going to keep insisting on hotboxing your room.” You waved your arm in front of your face as remnants of smoke poured into the hallway.

“A what? And that’s not the password.” He frowned, squinting at you.

“It’s takoyaki.” You finally conceded, rolling your eyes when he opened the door wider and grinned. 

“Correct. You may enter.”

“God, I could blindfold you with a piece of dental floss right now, you fucking stoner.” You stayed put, folding your arms over your chest. “Do you really not know what a spoof is?”

“No?” Your yellow-haired friend blinked at you stupidly, and you sighed.

“Do me a favor, just don’t smoke anything for a few and open the balcony doors or something. Give me 10 minutes, I’ll be right back.”

You didn’t wait for his reply, turning and walking towards the elevators, and pressing the button. 

“What are you doing?” He whispered loudly at you from down the hallway.

“Saving your life,” You said cryptically as the elevator doors slid open. You stepped inside, disappearing from his view and shaking your head. 

--

You walked out of the elevator and into the common area, rolling your eyes at the sight before you.

Bakugou, Kirishima, and Sero were all fast asleep on one couch. Sero had his head tilted back, soft snores coming from his parted mouth. Beside him, Kirishima was snuggled against Bakugou’s chest, the blond’s head leaning against his with his arm wrapped snugly around his waist. Mina and Kyoka were on the other couch, both fast asleep as well. The TV was on, the tail end of a movie you recognized still playing, your friends succumbing to sleep before they could finish watching.

You padded by them quietly, moving towards the kitchen. You headed straight for the counter, plucking the roll of paper towels off it’s holder and then turning to find the kitchen scissors. There was a lot more paper left on the roll than you’d been hoping, but you shrugged, using the scissors to cut the cardboard roll out of the middle. You knew there would be questions later, but you decided you didn’t care, and would probably just act like you had no idea what happened.

Cardboard roll in hand, you made one more trip to the laundry room, grabbing a handful of dryer sheets and shoving them in the pocket of your sweatpants, before heading to the elevator again. You had half a mind to wake your friends, but decided the less people upstairs in their rooms meant the less people to complain about Denki and his foul smelling habit.

One last stop in your room had you searching for a hair elastic, and then you were back at Denki’s door, knocking again. You sniffed the air, noticing the smell had dissipated slightly. It didn’t take long for him to answer, his eyes still half lidded as he smiled at you.

“Welcome back, Sparky.” He giggled. “Miss me?”

“So much. Every moment I was gone felt like an eternity, Denks.” You deadpanned, pushing past him and smacking him over the head with the cardboard roll as you walked by. 

“I knew you were into me. Sero owes me a thousand yen.” He chuckled, rubbing at his head idly and closing the door behind you. 

You didn’t correct him, walking further into the room and surveying the area. Walking over to the balcony doors, you pulled them shut and pulled the dark zebra print curtains closed. “Don’t you have any music you can play?”

“Trying to set the mood? I can vibe with that.” He shuffled over to his Bluetooth speaker and hit the button, pulling out his phone. 

“If you put on Bob Marley I’m leaving.” You threatened.

“No Marley? Too stereotypical, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow as you sat on his bed, pulling the dryer sheets from your pocket. “What’s that for?”

“Shush, let me work. Put on some Arctic Monkeys or something and get over here.” You instructed.

“Bossy.” He grumbled, but he had an easy smile as he clicked around on his screen, the beginning notes of R U Mine? playing from the speaker.

When he was settled beside you, you got to work. “Listen, I’m going to show you how to make this once, and you can keep it. Just make sure you switch out the dryer sheets occasionally to keep it fresh.”

“Okay, but what is it?” He asked, confused, picking up one of the sheets and rubbing it between his fingers. 

“It’s called a spoof.” You explained, settling more comfortably. “Alright, so you take a cardboard roll like this one,” You held it up to show him. “Then you fold the dryer sheet over like this to cover the hole on one end.” You demonstrated, holding the edges around the tube. You used your teeth to pull the elastic off your wrist and over your hand, using it to secure the dryer sheet onto the tube. “Got it so far?”

Denki just nodded.

“Okay, then you take the rest of the sheets and shove them into the other side.” You flipped the tube, taking the remaining sheets and separating them before shoving them into the tube as far as they would go. “Where’s your bong?”

Denki hopped up, pulling the bong from its hiding place on the far side of his dresser. He brought it over to you, reaching into his pocket to hand you a lighter.

You dropped the tube beside you, shifting on the bed until your back was leaning against the wall, your legs stretched out in front of you. You put your mouth on the end of the glass, one hand hovering near the bowl as you flicked the lighter and lit the bud that was nestled inside it. The embers flared as you breathed in, water bubbling quietly as the tube filled with smoke. When you were ready, you lifted the bowl from the glass to clear it, the smoke traveling up the glass tube and into your lungs.

Denki watched with rapt attention as you sat back, holding the smoke in your lungs for a moment. You dropped the lighter and moved your hand to find the cardboard tube you’d constructed. Keeping eye contact with him, you moved the open end of the cardboard to your lips and blew the smoke into it. 

The smoke came out the other side, smelling a little less like weed, and a lot more like fresh laundry.

“Holy shit.” Denki breathed, eyes wide. “That’s…”

“Now you try.” You held out the bong to him and he took it, shifting to sit close beside you, his arm brushing against yours, and his legs straightened out in front of him as well. You searched for the lighter on his blanket and gave it to him, sitting back to watch. 

His attention moved to what he was doing, repeating the same steps. You tried not to watch as he breathed in, his chest moving as his lungs expanded and he cleared the glass. You held out to spoof and he took it, putting it to his lips and blowing the smoke through it, white tendrils whisping out the other side and filling the room with the smell of clean spring. 

The room was quiet except for the music as you both watched the smoke dissipate. He turned to look over at you again, his smile contagious.

“I have two things to say.” He started, swallowing thickly. “First of all, you’re a genius. Like seriously? Holy fuck. Where did you learn that?”

You shrugged. “I’ve picked up some tricks I guess.”

“Damn.” He licked his lips, offering the bong back to you. “Second of all, I don’t know why, but watching you hit that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I should not be turned on as much as I am right now.”

You blushed. “Denki, really? Don’t-“ You took it from him, poking at the ash in the bowl idly, wanting to look anywhere but at him.

“I thought we were a great team in class already, but this just adds a whole other level on top of that.” He giggled. “What would I do without you?”

He was right, you were a great team. Your quirks perfectly complemented each other. Denki could conjure electricity and wield it, although sloppily. He wasn’t able to direct it well without his point and shoot, and had issues with overloading himself if he went too hard. 

You could wield electricity too, but you couldn’t create it. You needed a source, which was why your costume came with a taser. You didn’t need it with Denki around, however. He could zap you and give you what you needed, and then you could direct it wherever you pleased. When he charged up beside you, you could take the excess energy from him and keep him from making himself stupid. The two of you were a force to be reckoned with in class, and you always talked about the possibility of working together once you graduated.

“You’d probably be kicked out of here.” You joked, taking the lighter from his outstretched hand. “If Aizawa catches you, you’re toast.”

“I know, I wasn’t thinking. Could you smell it in your room?” He sighed, letting his head hit the wall behind him.

“Yeah, dude. It was pretty bad. You’re lucky half the class is downstairs and passed out on the couch.” You took another hit, reaching out blindly for the spoof when you had the smoke in your lungs. You blushed when your hand grazed against his in your search, nearly choking. You managed to get it to your lips before you coughed it out, letting your head thump back against the wall.

“Bakugou and Kiri cuddling again?” He asked, taking the bong back when you held it out towards him.

You snorted. “Of course.” It was no secret in your group of friends that those two were in love with each other. The betting pool was getting competitive, all of you waiting for the moment that Katsuki got his head out of his ass and finally made the sturdy hero his boyfriend.

Denki took a hit, using the spoof again, before leaning down and pushing his finger into the bowl. “It’s cashed. You want more?” 

You shook your head. “Nah, I’m okay.”

He hummed, shuffling off the bed to hide the bong again, opening a drawer and shoving the spoof inside. 

You didn’t want to smoke and run, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome either, so you began shuffling off the bed as well.

“You leaving?” He asked, pouting when he turned around.

You blushed. “I mean, I can stay if you want. I wasn’t doing anything important anyway. I just kind of barged in here to begin with so-”

“Dude, no! I always want you to hang.” He said shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “We don’t get to hang out enough, just the two of us. We’ve always got the Bakusquad around.”

He was right, so you just nodded, biting your lip. You were feeling floaty, so it made the anxiety of hanging out with Denki without your other friends fade to the background.

“Great!” He grinned, walking over and pulling the curtain back, opening the balcony door to filter air out the room. He clicked on the lamp on his desk across from the bed, and then shuffled over to hit the switch on the wall, turning off the main light, casting the room into near darkness. You watched as he moved back towards you and crawled onto the bed beside you and squirmed until his head was resting on his pillow. “Come up here.”

You turned, laying down beside him on your back, the music still playing in the background. Your eyes caught the plastic glow in the dark stars he had stuck to the ceiling above the bed. “Speaking of the Bakusquad, what were you saying about Sero owing you a a thousand yen?”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Well...I kind of told him that I thought you might have a thing for me.”

You turned to look at him, feeling your face heat up. He looked embarrassed, his gaze locked on the fake green stars. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t serious. I never thought you’d ever think about me that way, which is kind of how the conversation started anyway.” He turned to meet your eyes finally, shrugging.

You hummed. “Would that be a bad thing though?” You wondered out loud.

“Would it be a bad thing if you had a crush on me?” His eyes widened slightly. “No, I think it would be a good thing.”

“Oh.” You were both quiet, staring at each other.

“Wait, do you?” He turned a little so he was facing you fully. “Be honest.”

You turned on your side as well. “Well, I mean…” You were suddenly nervous. He said it would be a good thing though, and you wanted to know exactly what he meant by that. You sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

He blinked a few times, like his brain was trying to catch up to the conversation. “You like me?”

“Denki, you are making this so awkward right now. Yes, I do. Happy?” You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. His lack of positive reaction was not helping.

“Shit.” He whispered. You studied his facial expression, watching as his tongue slipped out of his mouth to wet his lips.

“If I just ruined everything just tell me and I’ll go back to my room and never come out again.” You mumbled, fully prepared to slip backwards off the mattress and hide forever.

He didn’t reply, his hand moving to your face, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. You shivered involuntarily at the contact. “You didn’t ruin anything. I think it just makes this easier.”

“Wha-” You started to ask, fully confused. You were cut off when Denki leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, your mouth parting with a small gasp. Your hands fisted into the front of his t-shirt and pulled him closer on their own volition, your body reacting without a second thought. 

He hummed, his fingers threading into your hair as he shuffled closer, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He pulled back slowly to breathe, his nose brushing against yours, his breath warm and mixing with yours. “This okay?”

“Mmm.” Your head felt fuzzy, but you felt incredible. This was a moment you’d thought of since your first year at UA. Denki had been one of your first friends at school, you’d been hanging onto your crush on him ever since, settling for spending time with him as friends, too afraid to do anything about it. You were used to the constant teasing from your squad about the two of you, and Mina’s nagging about when you were going to man up and make a move. It was hard to focus on any of that when he was here in front of you, laying on his bed, his hand moving down to grasp your hip and pull you impossibly close, your bottom lip between his teeth.

When he pulled away again, his golden eyes were bright, his lips quirking up into a smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, your thoughts moving slowly. You kind of regretted smoking as much as you did, afraid you were imagining this moment. “I didn’t even know you wanted to do that.”

He groaned. “I know. I’m the worst. I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way and then I just…”

“So what you’re saying is you like me too?” You asked, realizing it was probably a stupid question, but wanting to make sure you were on the same page.

“Yeah, like, a lot.” He snorted. “We are bad at this.”

“So bad.” You sighed. “I’m just really baked and kind of worried I’m dreaming.”

“Not a dream. Unless we’re having the same dream, which would be kind of freaky.” He looked thoughtful for a second. “That would be a fucked up quirk huh? Like, if you could make people have the same dreams and then they wake up and realize it was all a lie?”

“This is the most Denki thing ever.” You giggled. He looked confused so you continued. “I just mean that you got me here, in your room, on your bed, fully ready to make out until we fall asleep, and you’re going on a tangent thinking about weird dream quirks.”

He nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Get used to it, I’m not always the smartest.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not complaining. Get over here, discount Pikachu.” You pulled him by his shirt and kissed him again, smiling against his lips when he grunted in surprise. You let your hands travel to his back, nails raking lightly against his shirt, legs tangled together. He shivered and gripped your hips tighter. You felt a jolt of electricity from his fingers surge through you.

He pulled back with a chuckle. “Guess we’re lucky you can absorb my electricity, huh?” You hummed, smirking at him. “You better be careful. If you charge me up too much there’s no telling what I’ll do to you.”

“Oh my god that’s so hot.” He groaned, kissing you again. “Seriously, fuck.”

“Maybe I should go back to my room,” you said in between presses of his lips against yours. “Don’t want to start something we can’t finish anyway.”

“What? No, don’t go.” He pouted. “You can’t leave me by myself for too long, you’ve seen what happens!” His fingers moved a piece of your hair from your face, his expression twisting into a suggestive grin. “Plus, who says we won’t finish?”

You huffed, rolling away from him. “That’s right, when left alone you smoke out your room like a dumbass. How could I forget.”

“But that won’t happen anymore, ‘cause I’ve got you to make sure I don’t fuck up.” He grinned, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Yeah, you do.”

[yugyummygot7reactions]

Into the Night - 6

Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

Finale tomorrow!!!! 8pm!!!

Pairing: Youngjae x You

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1819

Warnings: Solo Play

And just like that he was gone. As you drifted to sleep, you thought you felt someone still watching you, but you didn’t think Jinyoung would have stayed around for a round two.

You looked around and saw no one there, but what you didn’t know is that when the clock struck midnight there would be someone standing in the corner, ready for his own fun with you.

As midnight passed, a young man appeared in the room next to the bed, inches from your sleeping face. “I hope you don’t sleep as long as last time,” he said as he tried to brush your hair from your eyes, his hand instead gliding through your skin, “I only have one day a year to be seen and heard safely and I don’t want to waste it alone. Why do ghosts have to only have Devil’s Night to wander? Wouldn’t it make more sense for a demon to have that restriction?” The voice woke you up. It was smooth and gave you goosebumps. You slowly looked around and saw the faint image of a young man next to your bed. A transparent man. “You’re awake!” he loudly exclaimed, shocking you off of the opposite side of the bed. “Sorry,” he immediately apologized before floating towards you. “Who-“ You started, “I’m Youngjae,” He smiled and held out his hand. You reached out to shake it and your hand went right through his. “Well…I was Youngjae when I was living. Now I’m just your other world boy next door.” You stared dumbfounded. “You’re one of the monsters?” You asked as you approached him, looking at all of his features as closely as you could. “Monster? Sure, I guess. I’m not from here if that’s what you mean…well…this world…now…I used to be from this world. This was actually my old house before I died.” “How did you…” You didn’t know how to politely ask the question. “Die?” he laughed at your concern for his feelings, “Jaebeom.” He shrugged like that was normal. “Did you meet him yet? He’s actually quite cool. We crossed the threshold to this realm together during the portal opening.” “He killed you and you’re friends with him?” You looked at him confused as you adjusted the sheets that were acting as your only cover from the attractive man in front of you. “I mean…killing me was an accident and sort of my fault…so yea!” “How is him killing you your fault?” You were so confused. “He turned me into a vampire, with my permission, but then I freaked out when I had to drink blood from a living person to make the whole eternal life thing stick. I felt too guilty hurting someone else. So I just didn’t do it…and I died…” He looked so nonchalant, like he was telling you what he had for dinner last night. “You asked for eternal life in the living realm and ended up cutting your life short in the process?” “Yup,” He smiled, “I still have eternal life, but I can’t touch anyone. It’s annoying.” He pouted. “I did it to myself though. I didn’t think the whole vampire thing through before telling Jaebeom I wanted it.” You were astounded at his childishness. “So you can’t even touch other ghosts?” You put your hand through his chest. “Nope, but I do have a fun trick that lets me touch people for a while.” Before you knew it, the whisp of a man flew towards you at alarming speed. The next thing you knew, you had a voice in your head and no control of your body. “Cool, right?” He asked as he held your hands up in front of you. “Possession is fun in the right person. You smell like lemons. Jinyoung smells like amber, Jaebeom smells like old spice.” You laughed at his comments, but this was freaky. You had zero control. “Very funny, now get out. We can hang, but I want control of my body back.” “Mmmmmm…not quite yet.” He said with a hint of mischief, “I can only do this once a year and I think some fun is in order.” He made you tap your lips while he thought. “Jinyoung got to have some special fun with you, and now I want to too.” Within seconds the sheets were on the floor and you were back in bed. Your actions were not your own, but you could still feel all the movements and sensations from what Youngjae was doing to you. Your heart was pounding, breath racing, legs quaking. You were tingling all over, and a pleasant shiver going down your spine as Youngjae roamed your hands across your body. You realized you feel something else too; a dampness between your legs that was not there before. “I’ve never possessed a woman before,” Youngjae notified you, “Apparently me getting a ghostly boner gives you the female equivalent. Your hands dip down to your core and rub your slick for a moment before Youngjae brings your fingers up to your mouth. “Let’s both have a taste.” He hummed in delight as he tasted you. “I wish I could be down there tasting this with my own tongue.” He breathlessly said as his hands began to roam your body again. You blushed deep and your face goes hot as the thought of Youngjae not only controlling you, but feeling, seeing, and tasting what you were crossed your mind. You were being pleasured by a ghost. It was the young brunette with the beauty mark by his eye, the one who seemed the most innocent of all the monsters thus far. Your arousal was stronger this time than it had been with the others and you cannot just simply ignore and will it away. After a moment of trying to find a way to get Youngjae out of you, you decided to just cave in and let him help you pleasure yourself. Your hands were gliding over your body, enjoying the pleasant tingle it provides. Youngjae brings your hands up to your breasts and plays with your nipples, which have become hard and raised with the arousal from the both of you. He rubs and pinches them, the sensations traveling straight to your core. You can hear Youngjae shudder with pleasure. He keeps one hand there as he brings the other one down between your legs. Youngjae rubs a finger up and down your seam, collecting moisture, before rubbing the small bud of flesh and sensitive nerves that has become slightly engorged with your arousal. Youngjae gasps at the feeling, as it has been quite some time since he pleasured himself or anyone else. He rubs slow and steady circles with your finger while your other hand still pinches and rubs your nipple, slowly building your collective pleasure. Youngjae releases your nipple and brings your hand down to join the other one, only with this hand, he presses one of your long and slender fingers inside. Youngjae bites your lips at the slightly foreign action. He gives you a moment to adjust, bending your finger and thrusting lightly before he slides another finger inside, rubbing you a bit faster. He scissors your fingers open for a few minutes then adds a third. Despite the events of this week, you are tight, clamping down on your own fingers instinctively, but continues to rub your sensitive spot more firmly. Youngjae was coaxing you to relax. Speaking sweet nothings in your mind and trying to get you to imagine that it’s two of his fingers inside of you. It doesn’t take long before your muscles relax and Youngjae begins thrusting your fingers in and out of you slowly, enjoying the slide and pleasant feeling it provides. He twists your fingers and feels a slightly rough and bumpy patch at the front of your walls. He massages there gently and moans at the wonderful pleasure it causes you both.

You and he realize that your hand outside has stopped and he resumes pleasuring you there while also doing so from within. It doesn’t take long before you feel your climax approaching. Youngjae lifts your hips up as your legs tense, your back arching and your breath hitching as your minds go completely blank, your climax crashing down as wave upon wave of pleasure washes over the both of you. Your body quakes as your muscles clench and pulse around your fingers, which are still buried deep inside. "Oh Youngjae!" You regain control for a split second to call out on pure instinct, riding out your orgasm until your muscles relax again and you collapse back onto the mattress. Youngjae slowly pulls his fingers from your core. You were a bit oversensitive and twitching after experiencing your own pleasure as both yours and his. You both lie there for a few moments until your breathing and heart rate return to a more normal pace. As you both regain your senses and normal thought processes, you realize what you just let Youngjae do and flush red and hot color running across your chest and face, up to the tips of your ears. When Youngjae feels your body is able to stand without your legs giving out from under the both of you, he gets you up and goes to the bathroom to rinse off your fingers and wipe you clean. He even started a bath for you and made sure you were safely in the water relaxing before he pulled himself out of you and hovered near the tub. You instinctively go to cover up, but realize he has done so much more than just seen you naked and you settling for crossing your arms and legs for a little protection. Youngjae’s hair was still perfect, clothes nicely unwrinkled, skin pale as ever, the only change was that you could see his chest heaving. “That was wonderful,” he said as he floated over and settled himself into the tub so you were both sitting facing each other. “Thank you.” He smiled as he looked deep into your eyes. “To repay you for this wonderful time, other than providing you with a full day with me, totally PG rated mind you…well…mostly…” he laughed, “I’m going to help you catch the other monsters.” “I appreciate it, but you can’t grab them and the possession could be dangerous and you can’t possess all of them at once. I just don’t see how you can help.” “Mark Tuan,” He said with a smile. “Who?” You asked, confused. “Mark Tuan,” He said like this man was the most famous human on earth. “There is always a price to pay for his help, but if you need to catch all of them by tomorrow night without any hiccups or brushes with death, you go to Mark.” “How do I find him?” You asked, eager to get this over with. “You find out after a day of Netflix and chill with me.” He smiled, “No exceptions.” You nod in agreement and sigh. If he didn’t only get one day a year to communicate with other people, you would have told him to fuck off. “Who is he?” You ask, curious about how Youngjae might know of someone in the land of the living. “The seventh monster…and your only hope.”

[danadeservesadrink]

Wine and Whiskey

Read on AO3 here

Chapter 1: Mulder’s POV

Scully arrives at his apartment with a bottle of wine on a Friday night and Mulder can't refuse. There's something so tempting about drinking wine from the bottle.

We’re just going to pretend that I didn’t wait almost a year to publish the second chapter for this fic. Reposting the first chapter here because I gave her a good fix-up. Tagging @today-in-fic

He had never been more mesmerized in his life than by Dana Scully drinking wine from the bottle.

She had shown up at his apartment holding it, bashfully admitting that she didn’t want to drink alone on a Friday night, practically entrapping him with a bat of her eyelashes. Of course he let her in.

It was rare that she let her guard down like this, but you wouldn’t catch him complaining. He ushered her in with a hand on her lower back and she made herself comfortable on his couch, flipping through the channels until she landed on a rerun of some history documentary. Her energy was palpable, nervous and confident and radiating. She gazed up at him with something just short of confidence and requested a corkscrew. Who was he to deny her.

Dana Scully sat on his couch in her maroon sweater and blue jeans on a Friday night at 9:06 pm and uncorked a bottle of white wine and he had never been more in love. Correction, he was more in love with her at 9:07 when she took a swig straight from the bottle. She drank and then let out a deep sigh, filled with all of the troubles of a not-so-9-to-5 FBI agent. He sat down opposite of her on the couch, matching her cross-legged position, and stared at her, mesmerized. She must have noticed, as she flushed and chuckled to herself, likely at the genuine absurdity of the situation.

“I’ve had a very long day,” she whispered defensively. He didn’t mind. She deserved to unwind. She passed him the bottle with a raised eyebrow and he almost denied.Thinking about how her lips and his would be touching the same lip of a bottle made him feel like a school boy analyzing the physics of cooties. He almost offered to go get them glasses, but she pushed the bottle towards him with an insistent smirk and he realized he was being ridiculous. He accepted, although still subtly trying to turn the bottle in a feeble attempt to avoid drinking from the same location she had, and he drank.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater. The wine was sweet, its flavor lingering on his lips.

“Bill’s an ass” She said, rolling her eyes. She reached out a hand for the bottle back, and he passed it over. She brought the bottle to her lips again with no rotations, clearly unconcerned with the dynamics of indirect kissing.

“Yea he is. What’d he do this time”. His previous attempt to forget how perfect she looked as she drank was a failure. Because Dana Scully was on his couch drinking wine from the bottle. He doesn't think any sane person could ever forget that.

“Called me up today to tell me how disappointed he was with me. How I’m a failure to our family and how I’m putting myself in danger for absolutely no reason” She laughed at this, and so did he, reveling in the ridiculousness of their day jobs. He shifted closer on the couch and she must have felt his concern because she clarified. “He heard about the case”.

Of course. Scully took down a murderer, a serial killer at that, with her own two hands, fighting through a warehouse of traps to get to him, to catch the bad guy. She shot him with his own gun but not before he sliced a nasty gash into her side with a pocket knife. All while he’d been knocked out on the cold cement in a pile of his own vomit. She followed his profile, found the warehouse, and took the bastard down and he was so god damn proud of her.  Bill didn’t see it but he sure as hell could.

“Bill’s an idiot” He said so sincerely it made her look up from staring into the wine.

“Yea. Yea he is” She whispered. She took another drink, and he was moving closer to her on the already small couch, like a moth to the light.

She’s so pretty. The way the TV fluorescence bounced off of her cheek, the way her hair was tied up but the short pieces in the front whisped around her face in perfect little curls. It took all of his strength not to reach over and brush one away from her eye when she tilted her head back to take another drink from the bottle. Her neck was perfect porcelain, he dreamed of running his lips over the smooth skin she exposed. When she finishes, he forces himself to look at the TV screen instead of the little drop of white wine remaining on her lip.

She looks down at the bottle, then up at him through her lashes. She was coy, vulnerable, he knew this step, whatever it was, was big. Scully had shown up to his apartment before, but it was usually due to work. Showing up with wine and personal feeling was teetering on the edge of something more than partnership. His eyes flick down to the bottle and she offers it to him. Their fingertips brush and he shudders. He sees her watching him drink.

They are rudely interrupted by the shrill ringtone of her cell phone.

She pulls it out of her pocket with a sigh, and he smirks.

“Hi Mom.” He hears the muted voice of Maggie Scully on the other end of the phone. She’s probably calling to apologize for her son’s behavior, and he’s pissed that she’s forced into that position.

“Well he was acting like a bastard!” Scully exclaimed, frustrated, and Mulder couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Scully shot him a glare, and he quickly pressed his lips together in silent surrender. She seems to be listening intently, so he shakes the wine bottle in her direction, forcing her to wave him off with an eye roll. As she mumbles “mmhmm” and “uh huh” he becomes bolder, eventually leaning over and trying to press the wine bottle to her lips. She pushed him back with a smirk, but reached for the bottle and took a drink before her next answer. It was his turn to smirk.

“I’m over at Mulder’s place” He grinned at her and tried to scoot in closer to hear Maggie’s response. She pushed him back again, this time with a softer smile.

“Work stuff” she said, avoiding eye contact with him. The irony of her statement was not lost, and he tried to repress the laugh that bubbled up within him. He caught her blushing.

“I’ll let him know. Bye Mom” She quickly hung up the phone and proceeded to drink a good 6 swigs before handing the bottle back to him, shameless. He hadn’t realized it was almost empty.

The concept of Dana Scully, the Catholic raised and pant-suit wearing professional, drinking wine at a man’s apartment at night while on the phone with her equally proper mother made him chuckle. He wonders if this is the first time she’s done this.

“What did your mom want to tell me?” he asked with a grin. She blushed again. He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or if the wine was getting to her. Maybe both.

“She just wanted to say hi” she glanced at the bottle in his hands, avoiding his eyes. He let the little white lie slip past them as a gift to a friend. “You gonna finish that?”

He shook his head. He was worried that any more and he would start acting in ways that would make Maggie Scully very disappointed.

Scully pouted at his response, but leaned even closer to him, grabbed the bottle, and downed the rest of it, tilting her head all the way back to allow the last drops to trickle from the bottom of the bottle into her throat. Something about her throat made him want to mark it with his teeth. Jesus, the effect she had on him was insane.

She finished, and returned to gazing in his eyes with an impish smirk. He must have still been staring because she burst into a fit of giggles. Despite all the Irish blood in her, Scully was still a small  woman who had just drank nearly a full bottle of wine.

“Scully are you drunk?” He teased. She burst into another fit of giggles as she shook her head, still smiling like the cat that ate the canary. He loved the sound of her laugh. He never wanted it to stop. He would personally fight every demon in this world so that she never had to stop smiling at him like she was right now.

She felt loose, unrestrained, and so did he. They were so comfortable with each other in the strangest of ways, and this wine laden journey was just another layer. Intimacy for them often came in small touches and promises of protection, least of all through physical affection. But tonight, all bets were off, as Dana Scully, goddess in blue jeans, used his shoulder to push herself off his couch and waltzed into his kitchen, swaying her hips like the little vixen she was.

“Where you going?” He called after her, but the only reply was the sound of a cabinet being opened and the melodious giggle he had come to adore.

She was reaching for the top shelf when he walked in the kitchen behind her. Her prize was obvious. Striding up behind her he placed one hand on her hip and reached with the other for the half full bottle of whiskey her outstretched fingers were wiggling towards.

He almost dropped it when he felt her step back into him. He flexed the hand still fixed to her hip as he felt a shiver run through him. As quickly as she came, however, she was gone, instead turning around to grab at the bottle he was holding. He reacted quicker, sober reflexes triumphing over hers, pulling it back and raising an eyebrow in response to her pouty lips. Drunk Scully was a dangerous creature, a tempting siren who could bend any man to her will. All he wanted was to please her.

“And why should I give you some of my emergency whiskey?”, he teased.

“Because I’ve had a terrible day, and now I’m out of wine”. She had to know what she was doing to him. Looking him straight in the eye, pushing her lip out even further. He rolled his eyes, laughing again under his breath.

“What’s the magic word”

And oh Dana you know how to make a man give you anything. There is no magic word, only Scully tilting her head back, closing her eyes, and opening her mouth, tongue stuck out and waiting. The vision was enthralling.

She peeked an eye open when she heard him toss the cap on the counter, but closed it again with a giggle when she realized he had caught her. He shook his head, exhaling softly. With reverence, he gave her what she wished.  

The whiskey hit her tongue with a burn of ice and fire, and he watched as it slid down into her mouth, filling her up until he stopped pouring, and she swallowed. He had never wished to be a liquid before. She coughed before smiling up at him, eyes sparkling even though the closest light was now the television.

“Your turn” She smirked and took the bottle from his hands.

“I don’t think you can reach” he countered, but she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled down.

He would never deny her.

He got down on his knees on his kitchen floor, and it was only right that Scully should be the altar he prayed to. Still smirking, he first closed his eyes as she had, then stuck out his tongue to await the drink of his goddess. She poured sloppily, the hand of a distracted woman, and he had to swallow before she was finished, causing her to spill some on his lips and chin.

He opened his eyes to see her giggle, mumble an apology, and lean over him. He barely registered what was happening before he felt her tongue, that perfect tongue, lap up a stray drop off of his cheek. He gasped, sharply. She pulled back, only a few inches, still leaning over him. He gazed up into her eyes and saw his arousal mirrored in them.

“It’s your emergency whiskey, I didn’t want to waste it.” She smirked her perfect lips as she whispered. Her breath smelled like sweet wine and sharp whiskey. It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes as he felt her finger raise his chin to the heavens. She licked again, this one on his jawline, and he moaned. He felt her laughter in puffs of air on his cheek.

“Scully…” he whispers, a halfhearted attempt to salvage a professional partnership he knew had been tossed out of the window the second she walked in tonight.

She ran a finger over his lips to silence him and he thought he might black out.

All he wants is her. His body shakes with the thought.

She brings both hands to cup his cheeks, whiskey bottle long forgotten, and presses her lips to his.

The feeling is that of resurrection. It’s an electric shock coursing through his body, lighting every nerve he has on fire, his thoughts only attuned to her, her, her. He remembers he has hands, and uses them to pull her closer, cupping the back of her neck with ferocity. She opens her mouth and he tastes her tongue. The taste of salvation and moscato.

He breaks the kiss only to rise up to his full height before he descends upon her, grabbing her gently by the waist, still mindful of her injury, but equally desperate. She tangles a hand into his hair and pulls him into her. He could get lost in her mouth, following the flow of the whiskey before him, lips then tongue, fire and ice. She moaned into his mouth and he tightened his grip on her. His mouth traced the path his eyes had followed earlier. Off the curve of her lips, down to her jawline, where he licked and sucked and did everything in his power to remember the taste of her skin. She whimpered when he reached her pulse point, taking the fist in his hair and desperately pressing him against it. He nipped at her flesh, and then kissed it better.

“Fuck” she drew out, shaking, and it made him wild. He sucked harder, knowing full well the dark purple bruise it was going to leave. Both of them couldn’t give a shit. When he finished, he kissed his way up to her ear.

“Mine” he growled, and she shuddered in his arms. He carefully tugged on her earlobe with his teeth as he felt her nod against him.  

“Yours” she whispered back. It was all the permission he needed.

He carefully traced his fingers up her sides, dragging the fabric of her top along with it. Her chest was heaving, their breaths mixing together in a cocktail of arousal and alcohol. He felt the bandage covering the wound from the warehouse and a pang of guilt passed over him. She sees it in his eyes and uses her own hands to push his higher, past the evidence of their last foul memory. He reached up to the bottom of her breasts and with a shock realized that her sweater had been hiding a secret.

“Were you planning…” he dotted her collarbone with marks from his lips, sucking softly along each delicate curve “... on telling me…” another kiss “...that you weren't wearing a bra?” kiss , kiss , kiss .

“I was more hoping that … ah shit...you would find out for yourself”

He had to be dreaming. Any minute he would wake up in his bed horny and alone like every Saturday. But then she kissed him again and he figured that if this was a dream he hoped he was fucking comatose because he never wanted to wake up. He traced his hands over the underside of her breasts again and felt her body shake at his caress. Quickly he pushed the sweater up and over her head, careful to not disturb her bandage, her arms raising to help. And then she was topless in his kitchen on a Friday night and he was going to study her like she was a sculptor and she was his Venus. He would memorize every curve of her perfect body with his hands over and over and over.

“Well?”

He had been staring. How could you not when Dana fucking Scully was blushing and breathless in your arms. But there would be time for starting later. He turned his mind to devouring her.

He palmed her breast and kneaded, watching in awe as her head fell backward and a sigh escaped her lips. He asked for permission through a silent question tossed up at her and she nodded a desperate nod. His lips continued their trail downward, licking and sucking on the hills and valleys of her chest until he came to her nipple, where he paused to circle it with his tongue. At the same time he flicked her right nipple he took the left one into her mouth. Her head shot forward, the hand in his hair pulled him forward into her, and she let out the most guttural moan of “ Mulder ”. His name had never sounded more perfect than when it came out of her mouth. He spent some time there, licking and sucking, pulling with his teeth then soothing with his tongue, just trying to get her to make different sounds. Curses flew from her mouth with ease and he was reminded of the rebellious streak in her. The deviant Dana Scully that cursed and drank and fucked. He loved this side of her. He’s drunk off of her and whiskey and wine and he can only think that he needed more. His brain is buzzing and he’s sure he didn’t have that much wine but maybe it's just the smell of her skin that's so intoxicating.

“Mulder I need you”

He looked up to meet her eyes and saw her staring back at him, breathless and hungry.

“Now.”

[duckduck-buck]

Puppy meets probie

 Oops I did it again! Here’s the 3rd installment of my series “Puppy meets...”. Most likely the last one as well...or the second to last. I don’t know. This one features some Jealous Buck and is unnecessarily long. I definitely recommend reading it on AO3 just because it looks better there but here you go.

——

Eddie would like to start by saying that for once, this is not on him. He isn’t the jealous one this time. In fact, he’s nothing but an innocent bystander, forced to watch his boyfriend get all huffy because of his irrational jealousy. Very irrational.

How the tables have turned.

He now understands why Hen and Chimney never stopped mocking him, back in the days he would get ridiculously jealous of Princeton...or of Leopold. To his defense, Leopold was and still is a little shit who wants all of Buck’s attention. Just saying.

So, yeah, Eddie’s not the jealous one and Buck is. It reminds him of the first time he had met Buck, back when he had first arrive. The guy had huffed and acted like an asshole for a whole day just to turn out to be one of the most genuine and kind person Eddie has ever met. Evan Buckley is the softest dork Eddie Diaz has had the chance to meet, do not be fooled by his height and cocky attitude.

Eddie loves Buck with all his heart, but if he has to hear him complain about how ‘Princeton doesn’t love him anymore’ one more time, he’s going to have to kill him.

Ok. That’s a lie. He could never, but he would find a way to shut him up. Mark his words.

Was he that ridiculous when he was jealous of Princeton?

(not Leopold, his jealousy because of Leopold was VALID)

.

Puppy meets Probie

.

Princeton is mad at Buck. Or at least that’s what the blond firefighter thinks if his rant about how ‘Princeton absolutely despises him now’ means anything—which can’t be more wrong. The dog adores Buck just as much as the firefighter loves him. No, seriously, they say dogs are men’s best friends but Princeton and Buck? That’s another level of man to animal friendship. They do everything together. Eddie is pretty sure Buck gets the dog a puppy coffee at Starbucks at least once a week. He brings him everywhere, the beach, the park, Athena’s—Eddie still can’t believe how much Buck has her wrapped around his little finger, because he distinctly remembers her saying that no dogs will ever put a paw in her house. How convincing.—. Buck is the one who takes care of Princeton the most at the station and outside of it. They are always together—with Eddie too because, it’s Buck&Eddie and not Buck and Eddie, never forget.

That’s kind of the problem. You see, the reason for Buck’s melodrama is the lack of time the man and his dog—and let’s face it, Princeton is Buck’s dog and Buck is Princeton’s human—have been spending together. And it’s all because of a new recruit.

It’s not everyday the 118 gets a new recruit. In fact, the last recruit they’ve had was Eddie. It was a surprise to all of them that anyone would be willing to join them after the firetruck explosion affair and the incident with the well. The 118 is known to be...hum...very accident prone.

The new probie is nice, younger than any of them, a little bit of a hot-head but good at his job. He is pretty nervous around them all, particularly Buck which still surprises everyone. In the firehouse, Buck has to be the least intimidating person around despite being one of the tallest. He’s just a giant dork, that’s common knowledge.

Anyway, the new guy, Elliot Morgan, is very sweet, always ready to help and very easily excited. They welcome him with open arms—Eddie did smirk at Buck at that and asked him if he was going to be mean to the new guy like he did with him. Buck answered by sticking his tongue out.—, they even invite him over for drinks with the whole station—except for Bobby and Davis—to celebrate his arrival with them.

So yeah, probie is nice and they all appreciate him, including Princeton.

Particularly Princeton.

That’s a problem. A very big problem.

.

They are all together in the loft, chatting about everything and anything, waiting for the alarm to rig at anytime.

Usually Princeton would be near Buck, laying down by his feet, just existing, and Eddie would fake being jealous, much to his boyfriend’s amusement and the others teasing. Keyword being usually.

“Where’s your twin?”, Hen, who’s sitting in front of Buck, says as she looks for Princeton.

Buck shrugs but he’s also confused, Princeton is nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t know, he’s usually right here. Have you seen him?”, Buck frowns in concern.

Deciding that he should go and find the dog, the firefighter gets up and is about to go down the stairs to get him when Princeton suddenly appears...with Elliot by his side. Buck goes to pet him but the dog sidestep him and follows their new recruit instead, who is completely oblivious to the situation.

Hen and Eddie exchange surprised glances and Chimney is staring at Princeton who is sitting beside probie and looking at him as if he hung the moon.

Oh.

That’s not normal.

That’s a Buck stare. The one Princeton gives Buck. Only Buck. Buck who seems as confused as all of them, hand still outstretched and a completely lost look on his face.

“...Princeton?”

The golden retriever doesn’t even turn to look at him, ignores him completely and continue to look at the probie who’s talking in hushed tone with another firefighter and remains oblivious to the situation.

If looks could kill, the beam above Elliot would have fallen and crushed him under its weight, killing him instantly.

Who knew Evan Buckley could look so mean?

And they call Eddie dramatic? Please.

.

Buck would like to say that it doesn’t sting one bit. He would like to say that his pride isn’t damaged, that he isn’t saddened at all, that he doesn’t take it as betrayal, that he doesn’t care at all. But as he look at probie and Princeton having the time of their lives, cuddling without a care of the world, as if they were best friend, the jealousy he’s feeling goes up tenfold.

He is supposed to be the one with Princeton right now. The dog has been ignoring him for three days straight and everyone has noticed it. Everyone but probie who continues to be his sunshiny, oblivious self—which rude, Buck is supposed to be the sunshine one—.

The thing is, Buck can’t even blame the guy, he’s done nothing wrong. Elliot is just happy because Elliot loves dog. He’s giving all of his attention and affection to Princeton. He even takes him in some nights. Like tonight for example.

The problem is that tonight, Buck is supposed to bring Princeton with him to his apartment. So imagine his surprise when the dog follows Elliot out instead of him.

“Princeton?”, he yells to get his attention.

Their new recruit startles and turns around. When he sees Buck’s frown he smiles shakily.

“Hum...is...is everything alright?”, he stammers out, looking anywhere but at Buck’s face.

And the thing is, Buck wants to be mad, wants to ask him what the hell does he think he’s doing and where is he taking Princeton, but the dog isn’t even paying attention to him and the kid looks like he’s ready to bolt. Swallowing his jealousy, he relaxes his face.

“It’s nothing Elliot, you’re taking Princeton in tonight right?”

“Ah! Yes! Why, am I not supposed to? Is he supposed to stay at the firehouse tonight? I can leave him!”, the young man nervously says, glancing sadly at the golden retriever beside him.

“No don’t worry. Have a nice night, man.”

With a wide grin, the probationary firefighter grins and waves goodbye, walking away to his car with Princeton by his side. Buck watches them go and, after a minute, feels a hand on his shoulder. Eddie.

“Let’s ride together? Chris is at Abuela’s tonight. We can come in together tomorrow.”

“Yeah...”

Buck ends up pouting for the whole ride from the fire station to his apartment.

.

“But you have Leopold?”

“Not anymore...she’s always with Charles X now.”, Buck huffs, his eyes on the two cats who are playing a little bit further away.

“And Charles X? I mean he seemed pretty attached to you when I first got him.”

“Yeah but now he just hangs out with Leopold.”

Remember when Eddie said Leopold was an attention seeker and stealer? Yeah. It’s still true.

“I just can’t believe he forgot tonight was Buck-ston night”, Buck says around his beer.

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. Buck-ston nights are not a thing, if it was, it would happen way too often.

“So what? You’re gonna tell probie to not approach Princeton? Or better, get a new dog to occupy him?”

“I’m not you mister Let’s-buy-a-new-kitten because I’m jealous of Leopold.”, Buck grins playfully, “And that would be mean, Prince is allowed to hang out with everyone.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t pout and complain the whole way to your apartment.”

“He forgot our Buck-ston night! It’s tradition! I thought you were a traditional man, you’re supposed to understand.”

Eddie chuckles at his boyfriend’s antics. The blond is pouting a little—even he denies it—, his pink lips slick with beer and h’s still complaining about Princeton absence. Suddenly, an idea comes into Eddie’s mind. He loves Buck with all his heart but knowing the man, if he does not change the subject, he will end up rambling about Princeton and Elliot the whole night. Eddie doesn’t want to listen to that. He has other plans.

“Evan.”

The blond doesn’t seem to register the mention of his name and continues his rant. Annoyed by the lack of response, he decides to change tactic. With a burst of strength, Eddie lifts Buck onto the counter and stands between his legs, a smug smirk on his face.

“So? Wanna keep complaining about Princeton or...”, he trails off, his eyes switching between staring into baby blues’ and rosy lips.

“Depends...are you going to do anything or just stand there looking all smug?”

Eddie’s smirk widen and his hands tighten around Buck’s hips. He gets closer to his boyfriend whose arms are now around his neck, and lets his lips hover over Buck’s, not quite touching.

“And what if I just stayed there?”, he whispers as he feels Buck’s breath hitch. Eddie knows how much he loves this little thing between them, some sort of game of who will give in to the thick sexual tension around them.

“And what if you didn’t?”

Eddie brushes his lips over Buck’s, and when the younger thinks he’s going to go for a kiss, he moves to the side, mouthing at Buck’s jaw instead. The blond’s arms around his neck tighten and one of his hands find itself tangled in short brown strands. Eddie continues peppering opened-mouth kisses along Buck’s jaw and slowly goes lower, for his neck.

“Eds...”, Buck lets out a soft sigh, tugging at the hairs in his hand.

Eddie hums, scrapping his teeth on that one sensitive spot and slips his hands under the cotton shirt, touching smooth skin and a rock hard body. He then lifts his head up, leaving Buck’s neck alone and drops a tender kiss on his lips. One becomes two, three, four and soon they are exchanging deeper and longer kisses, pulling each other in, closer, so close. Hands start to wander, a caress here, a brush of fingers there, a clutch or a tug. They are panting when they separate, Eddie’s hair is a mess, Buck’s shirt is all askew, their lips and cheeks are flushed and their pupils are blown wide and they are incredibly happy.

“We should...”

“Yeah...”

Let’s just say that Princeton and Elliot are the furthest thing from Evan Buckley’s mind the whole night, instead, his brain is filled with Eddie Diaz. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie and only Eddie...

His neighbors can confirm.

.

Eddie needs to have a conversation of the utmost importance with one Princeton...Buckley? 118? With Princeton. Yes, he is very much aware that Princeton is a dog, thank you very much, but the dog is a golden retriever and he read somewhere—Ok, Buck told him— that they are very intelligent so Prince will understand him.

The firefighter corners the dog while everyone is busy around the firehouse and crouches in front of him. Princeton, the good boy that he is, gets closer to him, tail wagging in happiness. Eddie pats his head, unable to resist and after looking around to make sure no one was around, started talking.

“Now listen you adorable little shit, you know how I started to appreciate you right? And I let you be Buck’s best friend? If you want that to continue you can’t pull shit like that.”, he stares at Princeton in the eyes and watches as the dog cocks his head to the side in confusion, “Don’t act all cute, you know what you’ve done! Buck needs love alright and you’ve been ditching your duties mister, you’re supposed to give him love everyday, all day. He’s pouting Prince! Pouting. Ok, maybe not pouting, but he’s complaining. A lot. So you gotta apologize man, and give him lots of love.”

Princeton stares at him, now sitting in front of him, head still on side, and his tongue hanging out.

“What’s wrong with you? I thought you loved Buck! You can’t just ditch him because there’s a new guy, man, that’s not fair! Remember who gave you that firetruck toy you love so much? What does Elliot even have that Buck doesn’t? I mean, kid’s nice but he doesn’t love you the way Evan does, I thought you knew that. You know that right? Stop looking at me like that you giant goofball, you need to go and apolo—”

“Are you seriously scolding Princeton right now?”

Eddie startles, loses balance and falls on his butt. He turns around and sees Chimney smirking down at him, Hen with her phone out, most likely recording him, and Bobby who’s shaking his head in fond exasperation. Before he says anything, he looks around trying to see if Elliot, or worse, Buck was around and heard his little conversation with the station’s mascot. Thankfully neither of them were in sight.

Refocusing on his three teammates, he clears his throat and gets up from his spot on the floor, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Hen is still filming, trying her best to contain her laughter.

“Hum...how, how much did you hear?”

“All of it man, all of it.”

“Seriously Eddie? Scolding a dog because your boyfriend is jealous of probie? A dog?”

“It’s Princeton!”, Eddie groans, glaring at the dog who’s looking at him innocently beside him, “He’s like Buck’s best buddy!”

“Still a dog.”, Hen shakes her head at him, pulling her phone down, “Damn, I’m so sending this to everyone.”

“Can’t believe I used to think of you as one of the sane ones, Eddie.”, Bobby says with a smile.

“Him? A sane one? Please Bobby, he bought a whole cat to distract Leopold.”

“Modern problems requires modern solutions.”

“That’s not how it works!” Chimney throws his arms up, shaking his head at Eddie’s ridiculous motto, “You can’t keep saying that every time Charles X is brought up.”

Hen laughs suddenly watching the video she had just taken, “Edmundo Diaz, I’m so playing this the day of your wedding.”

They continue to tease him—even Bobby—until they get tired of him. Firefighter Johnson makes the mistake of passing by them and Hen goes after him, talking about a video she needs to show him.

Eddie knows that soon the whole station—plus Karen, Athena and Maddie—would have seen the video and truly hopes it never reaches Buck nor Elliot.

He also hopes Princeton did understand everything he had said. He will make him watch the video to remind him if he has to.

But first, he needs to drown in his embarrassment.

.

Just as Eddie thought, the video has been seen by almost everyone in the firehouse. They all snicker at him whenever he passes them and it goes on until he gets off his shift. He refuses to admit that it was quite funny to watch.

The thing is that now, everyone is aware of the Buck-Princeton-Elliot issue...and that’s how Elliot who has been oblivious to everything, learns about it...and has a mini freakout.

It’s all thanks to three other firefighters who, maybe, should have checked their surroundings before speaking. Just maybe.

“Hey! Teagan, do you think probie is going to stay here long?”, Brett nudges his co-worker as they clean one of the trucks.

“What do you mean? Morgan’s pretty neat, does his job, shows up on time, hasn’t set the kitchen on fire so far, which is far better than you and you’re still here.”, she replies with a raised eyebrow, “Why? Did he tell you something?”

“You haven’t seen the video?”

“The one with Diaz? Sure. What does that have to do with anything? I thought we’d established that whenever Buckley is involved we shouldn’t try to understand him?”

“Exactly.” Villegas pipes up from the inside of the truck, “Imagine if Princeton doesn’t listen to what he said, what do you think will happen?”

“Villegas, Brett, please don’t tell me you think Diaz would do something to Morgan because of Princeton.”

“I mean, there’s no way we’re getting rid of the dog, you know that, so probie it is.”, Brett looks at her with an amused grin.

“Cap would—”

“—Please Teagan, we all know how Cap loves Buckley like a son. He would do anything for the kid. And Diaz would totally support this. They might even get Han and Wilson on the case.”

“I refuse to believe Cap would fire probie just for Buckley’s pretty eyes.”, Teagan snorts, shaking her head at the thought of such thing happening, “And even if he did, what if Morgan goes and complain about that? Abuse of power or something. This station is on the news pretty often, we don’t need anymore attention.”

“Buckley’s eyes do be pretty.”, Brett mutters. Teagan and Villegas both ignore him.

“Did you know they nicknamed us the hell-station? As if the 136 don’t almost die every two weeks.”

The three laugh lightly and resume to their tasks, changing the subject to the 136 last stunts and comparing it to their own.

Unbeknown to them, a certain probationary firefighter heard everything.

Elliot Morgan does the only thing he can do, he freaks out.

.

To say that no one was ready for what happened would be an understatement. A bomb going off in the station had more chance to happen than that. Honestly.

Buck really doesn’t know how he ended up with an armful of Elliot Morgan, with tears in his eyes and snot up his nose, at seven-something in the evening, in front of everyone. He really doesn’t but damn, would he like to.

It goes like this.

They are all gathered up in the loft, chatting in small groups except for Elliot. Bobby and Johnson are behind the stove, both listening to Hen, Eddie, Chim and Buck. The four were in an animated debate about summer camps.

“I don’t even know why you’re in this conversation Chim, you don’t have children.”, Hen looks at her best friend slyly as she says this.

“Hey! Buckaroo here doesn’t have children neither but you’re not telling him anything!”

“I will have you know Chim that I am Eddie’s proud co-parent and I love Christopher as if he was my son.”, Buck says from where he’s standing.

Cue heart eyes between their station’s lovebirds much to their dismay.

“Great Chimney, you set them off.”, Hen complains but everyone can see the fond smile plastered on her face.

The two star protesting, saying that they aren’t doing anything wrong. Hen and Chimney soon join in with teases to everyone else’s amusement. Bobby shakes his head at their behavior and gently tells them to calm down.

When Elliot enters the loft, however, everyone can sense the tension in his shoulders and the way he’s avoiding anyone’s eyes. They all quiet down but try to not make their worry known and continue with their antics. Focused on the new recruit, Bobby’s about to ask him what’s wrong when he speaks before him.

“Please don’t fire me!”

Every firefighters in the loft stops what they are doing, their attention on the very nervous probie who had just shouted. Hen exchanges worried glances with Eddie, Buck and Chimney. They are all confused with what’s happening.

“Is there a reason for me to fire you?”, Bobby asks slowly with a slight frown. Elliot has been a very good probationary firefighter so far, what could he have done to warrant him to get fired.

Instead of answering him, the kid throws himself in Buck’s arms, who is startled by the sudden weight in his arms, and starts crying right there. Everyone seems shocked by Elliot’s behavior.

“I’m so sorry!”, the young man says between soft sobs and incoherent mutters, “I didn’t know!”

“Wh—Elliot what are you talking about?”, Buck looks around with wide eyes, trying to find someone who may know why their new recruits was sobbing in his arms.

“I swear I didn’t know! Please don’t ask captain Nash to fire me!”

The collective gasp that resonates through the loft is not dramatic at all.

“Why would I ask Cap to fire you Elliot?”, Buck tries to soothe him, still completely lost by what’s happening, “Did something happen? Is it the Jeep? You nicked it or something? It’s totally cool dude, shit happen. I wouldn’t ask Bobby to fire yo—”

“No! Because of Princeton!”

“Prince...ton? What’s going on with him? Did you give him something he shouldn’t eat? It was chocolate wasn’t it? We can go to the vet, don’t worry, he will be fine.”

“No! I didn’t give him anything! I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to approach him!”

By now, the situation seems to dawn on the rest of the firehouse, everyone looks like they finally understand what’s happening and the reason behind Elliot freak out. Everyone but Buck.

“Elliot, I really don’t understand what you’re talking about. Princeton is the firehouse’s mascot, everyone is allowed to approach him. Bobby can’t fire you because you’re spending time with the station’s dog...”, Buck looks even more lost as he ruffles Elliot’s hair.

“But...the video?”, Elliot sniffles, letting go of Buck who winces at the wet spots on his LAFD shirt.

At the mention of the video, everyone’s eyes snap to Eddie whose eyes are wide. Hen has the audacity to smirk at his embarrassment. Buck, thankfully, doesn’t notice the attention that’s on his boyfriend.

“What video?”, he asks slowly.

“The one with Eddie and Princeton? Where he tells him about how you weren’t happy that I played with him?”

Eddie has the decency to smile sheepishly at Buck’s questioning glare.

“I didn’t exactly say that.”, the man mutters.

“And what Teagan, Villegas and Brett said? About Captain Nash firing me if you asked him to?”

The three firefighters startle at the mention of their names. They look at each other before looking back at the still panicked probie.

“But probie, we never told you that?”, Teagan tells him carefully, trying to remember if they had actually talked with him.

“No, you didn’t. I heard you. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I was working on the ambo and I hear you. I heard what you said about Captain Nash doing anything for Buck’s pretty eyes because he’s his son. And that he would fire me because I made Buck unhappy! I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to!”

Both Buck and Bobby are lightly blushing, stunned by what Elliot had just said. It’s no secret that Bobby is Buck’s father figure and Buck is like a son to their captain, but that doesn’t mean they are used to hearing it.

“My...pretty eyes?”

“The prettiest.”, Eddie says under his breath and, thankfully, no one hears.

“Probie,”, Brett snorts from his place beside Teagan, “We were joking around. Cap would never do that to you. We’re really sorry but none of what we said was serious.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Buckley wouldn’t ask anyone to fire you neither, have you seen the guy?”

“A whole ass puppy.”, Hen chimes in with a smile.

“Hey!”

Everyone start laughing, the tension in the loft finally receding and a lighter atmosphere comes around them.

“So I’m not getting fired...?”

“No one is getting fired kiddo”, Bobby smiles softly.

“And me taking care of Princeton...?”

“Was never a problem in the first place.”, Buck nods.

“So the video...?”

“That’s totally on me.”, Eddie smiles sheepishly.

“Elliot, you know how Eds and I are together right?”, at the younger’s nod, Buck continues, “Well, at the beginning I was kind of jealous, cause I was used to having Princeton by my side like, all the time. Completely irrational, you’ve done nothing wrong, and, well, I may have complained once or twice to Eddie here.”

“Oh...”

Elliot seems to finally realize the way he has freaked out in front of everyone and flushes lightly under the attention. Granted, Eddie and Buck are the ones who were ‘exposed’ and kind of ridiculed but he is the one who had cried and begged to not be fired. Maybe he had overreacted a little. Just a little. What can he say, he really likes the 118.

“Come on dude, let’s go and see how Princeton is doing. I’m sure he misses having company.”

Elliot beams and goes down the stairs, calling out for the station’s dog. Before joining him, Buck looks at Eddie and grins slyly.

“So...”, he singsongs, “do I get to see that video?”

“Absolutely, I’m sure you will love it Buckaroo. Eddie here went all out to remind Princeton how much love he’s supposed to give you.”, Chimney laughs, phone already in hands.

“Great! Send it over, I’m sure Abuela, Pepa and Carla will love to see how much of a gentleman Eddie is.”, Buck’s grin widens, happy to be able to make fun of his partner, and his eyes are still on Eddie, “You really have my back in any situation don’t you?”

“Well, I did say I would.”

“I’ll just have to marry you if you keep that up.”

And with that Buck is gone, calling out for Princeton and Elliot. The loft stays eerily silent for three to five seconds, every firefighters too shocked to do anything but stare, jaw-slacked and eyes wide, at an equally shocked Eddie.

“D-did...did he just...”, he croaks out.

“Holy shit...”

“Oh my god!”, Hen lets out loudly, “Buck wants to marry Eddie.”

Suddenly, chaos takes back its place in the loft. Everyone is speaking at the same time, Chimney is typing frantically multiple texts to Maddie, Bobby is tearing up and Johnson is patting him on the back with an happy smile on his face, Hen and Teagan are already browsing the web, looking for venues and decoration ideas and comparing the prices, and Villegas and Brett are trying to make Eddie come out of his trance.

It’s not a proposal, not really, they all know that. Buck hasn’t even realized the gravity of his sentence, too busy caring for Princeton with their probie. It’s not a proposal but it’s something, a statement, an opening to a new chapter of their lives, a ‘I think we should get married’, a ‘I wanna marry you one day’, a ‘I don’t see myself with anyone other than...you.’.

It’s not a proposal but it’s a projection in the future.

And that’s all that matters.

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Makeshift Medic

Donny Donowitz x Fem!Reader

Requested by @svonschroeder

(Sorry it took a few more days than I thought :/ )

Let me know if you guys wanna be tagged in these! :)

@owba-chan

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

"TEN HUT." Donny's voice echoed through the trees.

The Basterds scrambled into a line. The sun's harsh red rays were barely breaking through the horizon, boring through the branches, but they could already feel the heavy humidity sinking in around them.

Aldo was about to run his men through their mission. It was a big one. There was a cabin in the southeast side of the forest, and a few off duty nazi officers were holding a party there. They were high ranking. And they were major targets.

Aldo stopped mid-breath, before his first word.

You weren't there...

You were always there... in fact, you were usually the first one out.

Aldo narrowed his eyes, and turned to the privates. "Hirschberg. Omar."

The two stepped forward, "SIR Y-"

Aldo sighed, "At ease. At ease. Where in hell is y/n?"

Omar narrowed his eyes, "I uh... I don't know..."

Hirscherg turned around, back to the hideout, "She was right behind us."

Aldo muttered southern atrocities under his breath, as he rubbed the inner corners of his eyes, "Of all the goddamn days to fucken-"

He looked up and somehow you appeared in the line up.

Normally, it would've merited a chewing out, but...it was an important mission, there was no time. He narrowed his eyes again when he realized you were wearing a jacket...over a sweater...over a few other layers.

He quickly glanced around at the others. Donny was wearing his white tank top... everyone was wearing a single layer, mostly short sleeves.

He really didn't have time to question you. You were a smart enough private...smart enough for the OSS.  You never steered them wrong, why question you now?

Donny didn't quite notice. He was too fired up for the mission, "EYES FORWARD."

All of the basterds  stood at attention, their backs straight, hearts pumping adrenaline,  eyes definitely forward.

All of them, except for you.

Your eyes hurt, like everything else, your spine was tired, hardly able to hold you up. As Aldo went through the mission, you felt more and more spaced out. Every word seemed further and further away as you felt as if there was mounting pressure around your head.

You were aching, hardly able to hold up your head, struggling to stand, your knees were shaking.  You weren't scared.  Aldo was the only one that noticed, but he also knew that. It just wasn't like you.

"Y/n..."

You lifted your eyes to meet his. He saw the dark circles under your sunken eyes, "You're pale." He didn't waste an instant. He looked back to the closest thing they had to a medic, aside from you "Wicki!"

You stepped back, simultaneously balancing yourself, "I'm fine, Aldo."

Aldo sighed. You weren't really a liar. Everyone had been overworked lately. He knew you took missions seriously and decided you must be a mess from stress. It happened to the best of them...

... Aside from that, you were the only basterd that spoke French. The only that could get them through without blowing  the act.

You all moved out, toward your target.

Most of you...

Aldo couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He turned around and did a quick head count.

Ten basterds total.

You were missing.

"Y/N?!"

Donny's heart stopped. Without a moment to lose, he bolted back the way you all came. He didn't run too far when he found you resting on one knee as you grappled onto a tree, vomiting.

"Oh fuck!" He ran toward you, though he hesitated for a split second when he reached you. Donny...wasn't particularly good at taking care of others. Not unless by 'taking care' you mean bashing a baseball bat into their brains. He loved you, and wanted more than anything to take care of you, but he didn't know his own strength at times, especially when he was scared.

Then he realized how helpless you looked. He crouched by you, pulled your hair away from your face and did what he vaguely remembered his mother doing when he was a kid. He tried rubbing your back, didn't know if it was helping or not. He just tried his best. "You...you don't look too good, kid."

You knew how important the mission was for him, for Aldo, for everyone...hell, for you. You struggled, your knees shook and you pulled yourself together and stood back up. 

Donny knew how stubborn and proud you could be. You were somewhere in the same league as Hugo sometimes...that was a story for another day....

But, he swiftly held on to you, seeing you were already swaying, and on the verge of collapsing. "Hey, hey. Whoa...its ok," he looked down at you, observed the beads of sweat rolling down your face, your strained red, tired eyes, and your pale, scalding skin. He cursed himself for not noticing earlier as he turned back, his heart racing. "WICKI GET THE FUCK OVER HERE."

Wicki had a scant amount of medical training... his sister was a vet...but he was useful enough for the basterds, until you came along. Most of what he knew he got from you. But you were known to be something of a hypocrite, and tended to not take care of yourself half as well as you took care of your basterds.

Not even a fraction as well as you took care of Sergeant Donny Donowitz.... Sometimes he acted out  a little, just to get your attention. Not that you had a problem with that...

He felt almost as helpless as you as he looked down at you, a feverish, limp heap. "Y/n..."

Wicki rushed through the bushes, followed closely by the rest of the basterds.

He didn't take much time, or even a genius for him to know that "There's no way she can go."

Somehow, beyond Donny's reason, you managed to shift out of his arms, and stumble, "I can go... I can-"

Donny caught you once more as Aldo shook his head, "No you ain't, soldier. You'sa stayin." Aldo was at a crossroad. Wicki was the medic, but they also needed him because he spoke German. Hugo was too recognizable to some of their targets.

Aldo hesitated, and thought on calling it all off. 

As bad as you looked, you still had eyes, and you still knew your lieutenant well. "At least go without me. I can take care of myself. Go."

Wicki shook his head, "Aldo, look at the state she's in. We can't leave her alone. Not like that."

Hugo sputtered "Wicki's right." As much as he held a facade, and made it seem like he could barely tolerate you, you were the only one that knew how to carry out a good, sound argument... in German no less. (Of course, Wicki spoke German, but he lost his head quickly with Hugo's ridiculous claims. ) Hugo respected you.

He'd never admit it, but even he cared about you.

Still, not like Donny did. And Omar knew it. It was mostly a joke, but he suggested, "Ya know, lieutenant... no one's going to take better care of her than Donny."

Wicki and Donny both turned to him, "What?!"

Aldo pondered on it for a second, reasoning that would mean Wicki would be able to go. And...Omar had a point.

Donny held on to you as he also thought about it. He didn't know much about taking care of people... but he had watched you intently every time you took care of an injured basterd.... every time you took care of him. You did more than that for him...

He wanted to take care of you, for once. He'd figure it out.

Aldo nodded, "Ok. Wicki you're  comin' with us. Donny, you'll  be takin care of her till we get back."

"But I..."

Aldo couldn't help but grin a little. He knew very well how much Donny loved you. Donny once almost drunkenly fought him over you after knowing you for less than a week. "That's an order."

Wicki turned to Donny, "You know where everything is, Donny?"

Donny nodded, and sounded almost disinterested in them, as he looked down at you, "Yeah, yeah, have fun..."

There was an exchange of smirks and mischievous glances between the other basterds as they marched on.

Donny picked you up bridal style. As weak as you were, you managed to mumble a protest. "Don, no, I can w-walk. "

"Don't lie to your sergeant." He grinned a little, expecting you to fire something back. He admired you for your sharp tongue and quick wit.

He was met with silence.

"Y/n?"

He glanced down, and realized you seemed to be drifting off. He usually loved holding on to you when you fell asleep. Sleeping by you was so calming to him... but right now, it worried him. It wasn't like you.  He'd never seen you so sick. He noticed you were holding onto your stomach.

"How long you been like this, doll?"

His voice was almost pleading.  He knew you well, and knew you wouldn't fess up easily.

"I woke up like this..."

He caught you chattering your teeth before you clenched your jaw so you wouldn't worry him. 

"You're a terrible liar, ya know that?" He smirked a little as your eyes met his.

"I know..." You managed to flash a weak smile at him, as you gave up and rested your pounding head against his strong, protective  arm.

"So...how long's it been, doll?"

"Dont..." You shook your head trying to pull yourself together, "Don't worry about me."

"You can ask anything. Anything in the world from me, doll,  except for that."

You lifted your eyes and spoofed, "Yeah?"

"Don't ask me to let go of you either."

"You know me too well." Your voice was weak, and you broke out into a cough.

He groaned in frustration. 

He thought he heard a few muffled, stifled, quiet coughs late in the night. He muttered, "God damn it, Y/n..." He sighed "You feel like shit, don't you?"

"....no..."

"I swear to God, Y/n-"

You were interrupted by a lone, wandering, possibly lost nazi. He screamed something, but his words whisped through your pounding head

Donny wasn't having it. He needed you to get better, he needed to see you smile, and hear you laugh again. 

"Fuck off." Donny let go of you, and  raised his gun in one movement, and took a shot through the nazi's forehead.

Donny quickly put his gun back, and balanced you in his arms again.

He wanted to take the scalp, but he wanted you to rest more.

"Fuck that guy, right Y/n?" He didn't get an answer, "Y/n?" He looked down and realized you pained face, and you were shivering.  He frowned, and started to pick up the pace,  "We're almost there, doll, hold on."

By the time he set you down in your bunk in the abandoned inn you all inhabited, he was worried. It wasn't easy to worry The Bear Jew. But you... well... It took quite some time for him to actually admit he cared about you, even if it was clear to everyone from the moment you met. After that, he let no one near you, not without a fight. He loved you, and only you. He couldn't bear to see you in any kind of pain.

"Sh... it's ok doll." He pulled some covers over you, "I..." He looked back, knowing he needed to get the medicine, but not wanting to you leave you alone. "I'm here. I will be.... I...I gotta go get some stuff, but you, you know what I mean."

He sounded distant and muffled, but you could tell he was flustered. It was rare, but when he got like that it was unbelievably adorable to you.

After what seemed like the blink of an aching eye to you, and a lifetime to him,  he came back. He sat by you, and you heard the rattling of pill bottles. You opened your eyes and saw a hazey, blurry face over yours... no matter how sick you were, you knew how hard he was trying.

"You're still shivering..." He brushed some hair behind your ear and you mumbled, "It's cold..."

"Cold?! Its..." He was in a tank top and sweating. He eyed all the layers you'd thrown on, "Fuck, y/n, you're gonna suffocate like that!" He pulled the covers off you, "I know you feel cold, but it's hot out, I don't want you to overheat later." He helped you take off a jacket...then another one, and a sweater, and left you with a blouse on. He took your boots off, and though he knew you normally hated sleeping with socks on, he let you keep them on. He helped you back into bed, and pulled the covers back over you.

He sighed, a little content with himself, and sat by you. He couldn't find a thermometer,  so he rested the back of his hand on your forehead. Your face was scalding, sweat was rolling down your forehead, and you were shivering. "Y/n..." He got up,  and disappeared from your line if sight. Half delirious, and perpetually worried about Donny, you propped yourself up on your shaking arms, "Donny... Donny?"

"Hey, hey... sh, it's ok, I'm here, doll." You felt his warm arms wrap around you as he sank by you. He gently pulled you back down to bed (though... He normally wasn't gentle when that happened...)

"I gotcha some tea, doll. And here..." He put a few pills on your hand, after having read and reread the labels to make sure you were getting what you needed.

He drank some tea himself. He wanted to keep himself healthy enough to take care of you as long as you needed. As the basterds' medic, you did enough for them... and went above and beyond for him. 

He wanted you to know how much you meant to him, even if you might've been delirious and may not remember a word he said, he said it anyway. "You don't know much I fucking love you, doll. I need you to get better."

"I'm sorry..."

His heart broke, even if you didn't know what world you were in, he knew your heart was always in the right place. "Hey, don't do that right now. You're sick, kid, you-"

"You should be out there with the boys... You really wanted to go, I-"

"I really wanna take care of you."

"But you've talked about it for so long..."

He sighed a little, and took the empty cup from your hand and set it down.  "Yeah, but I think about you all the time. The mission was important, but you mean everything to me, doll. Don't be sorry. You do everything for us, for me. Lemme take care of you, just this once."

You laid back silently, almost as if you'd given in. You didn't have much of a choice to begin with...

"You feel any better, kid?"

You were silent. Even when you were half out of your mind with feverishness, you refused to let your guard down.

"Y/n, come on..."

But when you looked at Donny's worried eyes, you knew he meant it.

"I'm... I'm cold..."

He really didn't know what else to do, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He slipped under the cover with you, and wrapped his arms around you.

"No, I...I don't want you to get sick."

"So you admit it?" He smirked a little and you still protested, "Donny."

"It's ok, doll." You knew there was no way you were going to move him. You finally gave in. He smiled a little as you snuggled your head against his chest. He held you tight, resting his chin over the top of your head.

Some time passed, and you were beginning to drift to sleep when you heard his voice.

"You still cold, doll?"

You didn't have much of a voice left, and you were half asleep, so you simply smiled.

He peered over a little, and saw that smile, and your soft expression. He knew you weren't  hurting as much anymore. You weren't sweating. He let you sleep. He was relieved. But even if you were feeling a bit better, he still held on to you. You were his everything, and even if it wasn't much, he did whatever he could if it made you feel better. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and closed his eyes, with a sigh. He could hear the basterds laughing and joking in the distance.

He would've loved to have been part of the mission, and have a couple more scalps around his belt, holding on to his bloody bat.

But there was nothing that he loved more than you, and nothing else he'd rather be holding on to than you.

[abdicatedarchive]

Sleepover at Chase’s || Wren, Chase, Jonah, Jesse, Stevie

The boys (Stevie included) have a sleepover at Chase’s. 

@chrysolites @jessekxller

Chase: Chase had pulled out a few air mattresses and put out a bunch of wine and mixed drink stuff plus snacks for the boys. He had facemasks in the bathroom, but he was going to wait until everyone was drunk to bring that up. He heard a knock at the door, "It's open!" he called out.

Jesse: Jesse was nervous for the sleep over, he had never really done one, he had slept over at Liv's, but that was different. Jesse opened the door with a smile. "Hey!" He said talking in. His one goal of the night was to be the one that didn't sleep. The boys couldn't find out about his night terrors. "Melissa sent me with some snacks."

Jonah: Jonah hadn't been feeling too great in general and it seemed like it was starting to become pretty obvious so he was glad to have this sleepover as some kind of distraction. He smiled at Chase as he walked into his friend's place. "Hey." 

Stevie: Stevie also came along shortly after with decorative baggies that her parents made for her friends. What goobers. "So I also got snacks... but my parents made these so like, maybe don't eat them. They might not be great."

Wren: Wren came in and plopped down on the couch and let out a sigh, "sorry boys, I was in the car texting my girlfriend" he said with a cocky smile. Wren was just so happy.

Chase: Chase greeted his friends excitedly, "Thanks for coming everbody, and thanks for all the extra snacks. We're eating good tonight" said the boy with a big smile on his face. "Should we play something?" he asked.

Jesse: Jesse playfully rolled his eyes. "No need to brag. There are singles in the room" He said as he looked over at Chase. "Yes, I'm ready to pig out." He said as he plopped down on the couch

Chase: Chase put his arm around Jonah, "Dude I am so glad you're here" said Chase, making sure to carve out some good time for his buddy. "I was worried you wouldn't make it" he added.

Stevie: Stevie went in to give Wren a high five, "I'm happy for you, man." she said with a big smile. "Right in time for the holidays too. It'll be a fun Chrismukkah for you." she nodded her head, proud that she remembered the lil name. "Here, pig out on this." Stevie smiled sarcastically at Jesse as she handed him the shitty vegan treats. 

Jonah: Jonah smiled at Chase, "Of course I'd make it. If we're playing any kind of video games, I needed to be here to kick your ass in person." he jokingly said. They were both evenly matched when it came to the games.

Chase: "Oh ho ho" said Chase with a laugh, "You're on my terf now. You better bring your A game" he said with a smile, it would be a fair fight no matter what.

Jesse: Jesse caught what Stevie tossed his way. "Oh!... look at that. My IBS is acting up. Can't eat this." He said tossing it over to Wren. "For you, my king."

Wren: "Vegan treats?" said Wren with a smile, "Tell your mom I love her" he said to Stevie as he put them down anyways. He would eat them if it came to it.

Jonah: "I always do, Chasé." Jonah said in the accent, laughing afterwards. "So what are we playing first? Unless you meant games as in truth or dare?" he asked as more of a joke, but knowing Chase, that could definitely be a possibility. 

Stevie: Stevie frowned when the baggies started hopping around. "You guys are gonna take them and you don't have to eat them but I will tell my parents you loved them."

Wren: "What would we even ask in a game of truth or dare" said Wren to the group, "I feel like we already know everything. Unless one of you guys is harboring a secret child" Wren laughed.

Chase was SWEATING.

Jesse: Jesse looked over at Chases alcohol collection. "Why don't we play a drinking game?" He suggested. "Guys, Its me. I fathers a illegitiment child. I've been hiding him from you this whole time." He said playfully.

Chase: "Yeah let's play a drinking game" said Chase, acting as normal as possible. God, this was too much for him.

Jesse: "You got a deck of cards?" Jesse asked moving over to the locked closet with hidden baby stuff. "Do you keep them in here?"

Chase: "That's the Hale's storage. I have no idea what they keep in there" said Chase passing Jesse and grabbing cards from his room. "Got a specialty deck right here, it's dr. who themed" said the boy as he put the cards out on the table, "What should we play?"

Jonah: Jonah laughed, "That's actually where he keeps his secret child." he said, just trying to play along with the joke. A fool, indeed. "I'm up for a drinking game though."

Chase: Chase laughed along with everyone, his heart racing. He did not enjoy this joke at all. Fuck Wren Bishop and his mun. "Kings cup?" he suggested, grabbing a beer for the middle.

Jesse: "Ah, the Hales can't even give you your own complete space." He said with a laugh. "Maybe he does jo," Jesse knocked on the door. "Secret child, are you okay in there?" He smiled. "Kings up sounds great. Love that game.

Stevie: Stevie nodded in agreement, "Sounds good to me." she said with a smile.

- They played Kings Cup - 

Jesse: Jesse put a card under the tab, it was getting pretty full and the can was to bust any second. As he slipped it under, the can busted so had to remove the cards and chug. Luckliy the game was a sucess and they were all pretty drunk now. Jesse finished off the can and looked around now that the game was over. "Brosssss, that was so much fun! I feel amazing." The boy said with a slight slurr to his words

Jonah: Jonah wasn't very used to drinking, but he did every once in a while at the parties. "It was fun. I need to have more often." he said, his words slurring. 

Stevie: Stevie leaned back with a big smile on her face, "Dude I feel fucking great too. This is just what I needed, what we all needed am I right?" she asked looking around at everyone in the room. "Shit has been getting stressful and we deserve a good time."

Jesse: Jesse laid back on the floor before he started laughing for like a minute straight. “Jo jos drunk” he said as he pointed over to his twin. “Steeves we all did need this. I love a good de stresser. And getting to hang with the boys”

Wren: Wren was sitting and texting Chanel like a whipped piece of garbage, "Hm?" he said looking up to process that Jesse had just said Jo Jos drunk. Wren let out a laugh, "I'm just glad we can have a nice drama free night" said the boy drinking a little bit of water.

Chase: Chase went to his room and grabbed two lightsabers and threw one to Jonah in the living room, "You have allowed this Dark Lord to twist your mind until now . . . until now you have become the very thing you swore to destroy" said Chase holding up the saber to fight Jonah.

Jesse: "wrenny boy, you look to sober, drink more." JEsse sid moving closer to the boy. His attention was distracted by the lighsabers. "I am so videoing this" He said with a laugh as he took out his phoneNovember 29, 2020

Jonah: Jonah caught the lightsaber and smiled at Chase. He knew what the fuck was up. "Don't lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see through the lies of the Jedi. I do not fear the dark side as you do. I have brought peace, justice, freedom, and security to my new Empire." he got up and walked towards Chase, holding the lightsaber up before they began to duel.

Chase: Chase was smiling such a goofy smile, "Your new Empire?" he said as he waited for the next response. After that he replied, "Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic ... to DEMOCRACY" he said as they were dueling. It was an epic battle, and Chase was laughing so hard from all the alcohol in his body and how much fun he was having. He hadn't had fun like this in so long. The democracy line was also his favorite.

Jesse: Jesse continued to laugh as he watched the boys battle, getting it all on video. Though he was nver a big star wars fan, he had seen one or two of them before, not enough to really understand what they were saying. "Wack him with the glowing stick!"

Wren: Wren smacked the back of Jesse's head, "It's the final battle from Revenge of the Sith" said Wren, "and those are light sabers you fucking nerf herder", ashamed that Jesse was the way he is.

Jesse: Jesse shook his head. "Yall assume I was allowed to watch tv while being trapped in the dungeons of hell, I mean foster care? Funny." Though not every house was bad, there was competition for the tv remote at times and a lot of kids, when there even was a tv

Wren: "Damn debbie downer" said Wren a little drunk, he took another swig from the liquor bottle, "We're planning a movie marathon next" he added.

Jesse: Jesse downed his beer and stood up on the couch. "I'll show you what it was like." He said before letting out a laugh as he leaped onto Wren, tackling him to the floor. "Wrestle!"

Stevie: Stevie picked up Jesse's phone and continued filming all the battles. "Take his top off!" she yelled as a joke, as she started laughing.

Wren: After a few minutes of wrestling, Wren got Jesse into a headlock, "Dude I did wrestling back in Cali" said Wren letting him go.

Jesse: Jesse and wren went fo a few minuted till it seemed that Jesse was at his witts end with a big loss. Jesse tapped on the floor as Wren let him go. "Did you wear the man leotard?" He asked with a laugh.

Jonah: Jonah tried holding in his laugh, "Don't make me kill you." he said with enough passion. And the Oscar goes to... "If you're not with me, you're my enemy." he stated as he continued the light saber fight.

Chase: The scene continued and they played through the whole battle. "It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground" said Chase as he stood on the couch, Jonah on the ground. He pretended to cut his limbs off and yelled, "You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you."

Wren: Saphira came out of Chase's room and Wren scooped her up immediately, "For your information, yes. But there is no photo evidence sorry" Wren said with a smile as he started petting the cat. He sat back down on the couch and was just petting her, "Saphira, I'm gonna steal you" he whispered to the cat.

Jesse: "What? Not a single photo? What a shame those leotards make you look hung." He said with a laugh. "Awe thats a cute cat." JEsse said but didn't get any closer

Jonah: "Shit, give me one second." Jonah said, breaking character. He sat on the floor and placed the lightsaber beside him before pulling his arms into his shirt so it looked like he had no arms. He moved from side to side as the sleeves on his shirt flapped around, cause no arms. Then he got back into character and acted as if he was screaming.

Chase: Chase was cackling at how funny this all was, they had done this seriously once before. But it was most definitely better drunk. "Somebody got all of that on video right?" he asked the room, finally looking around. "And how are we feeling ... about some shots? ... and maybe some face masks?" Chase joked, well let's be very clear. Chase was not joking about any of it.

[jamiebluewind]

A Flame In The Dark: Chapter 1

Chapter 2 is up now! I'll try to link it here when I get the chance ^_^

Fandom: Dimension 20, Fantasy High

Word Count: 3594

Perspective: Riz

Note: Hurt/Comfort. There are a lot of trigger warnings, so please keep them in mind and stay safe.

Characters: Riz Gukgak, Fig Faeth, Adaine Abernant, Fabian Seacaster, Kristen Applebees, Gorgug Thistlespring (implied), Tracker O'Shaughnessey, Sandra Lynn Faeth, Ragh Barkrock (implied), Cathilda Ceíli (mentioned), and unnamed OC

Warnings: violence, death mention, canon typical violence (specifically Riz killing assholes), panic attack, abuse, injury, child abuse, starvation, neglect, isolation, imprisonment, dark themes, trauma, child murder mention, sewage mention, fantasy racism, implied slavery, parasite mention, blood mention (please message me if I missed any)

Summary: A hobgoblin that's responsible for an untold number of atrocities against goblins is dead. The battle is over. Riz's friends run to him to help calm his shaking form. None of them are prepared for what happens next.

"Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness." Anne Frank

*****

The hobgoblin devastator stood there, almost smug as he looked down at Riz. To the hobgoblin, the offer was more than fair. A strong intelligent gobin being allowed to become a chief and fulfilling its roll of serving its betters? It was a kindness meant to somehow balance out his atrocities. Riz's blood boiled.

The smug bastard wasn't prepared for his rapier. Surprised. Sneak attack. Critial blow. Massive damage. A second critical slash while the bastard scrambled for his weapon. Riz was eerily quite, moving as silent as death. And to the hobgoblin, that's what Riz was. Death and pure unbrided rage.

The fight was short, so short in fact that the others didn't have time to act before the monster was laid out before Riz's feet. His friends ran to him. His breathing was heavy. He had always known that goblins were treated poorly in some countries, but he never realized... it made him sick. God it made him sick! The monster that had hurt his people was gone, but the bastard being dead on the floor didn't stop his body from shaking. Didn't erase the images of scars and beatings and dead children.

Someone was speaking to him. Scuffed hands placed Boggy in his arms. His friends knelt beside him so he didn't have to crane his neck. They were banged up from the battle to get where they were and bruises were already starting to form, but they were all there for him. A glance around the room showed that Cathilda and Sandra Lynn were there as well, alert and standing guard so that the kids could be safe while they focused on him. The anger melted away. His logical mind came out of its fog. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

He opened his mouth to speak when he froze. His ears twitched as a soft sound came from the rows of cages hanging a few yards behind the rusted metal throne. They weren't alone. He put a finger to his lips and whispered to his friends to keep talking before he stealthfully crept towards the origin of the sound.

Riz crouched low to check under the suspended cages, but there appeared to be nothing there. That didn't mean that someone wasn't hiding somewhere else. There were a lot of options and the possibility of an invisibility spell to consider.

The floor was a criss-cross of grates with a long open deep gap between the back wall and the floor. The wafting smell and a nearby hose implied that the design was probably meant to wash away waste, but it could also be used as a hiding place. He made sure to watch his step.

The chains supporting the cages could also make for a good hiding place for a decent climber. He scanned the ceiling, paying close attention to the more shadowy areas. It was badly lit at best, perfect for a rogue to disappear into, but perfect for him as well. Nothing stood out, so he kept looking.

The cages themselves weren't an ideal hiding place, but they would do in a pinch. They would also work as a bit of extra armor if someone locked themselves inside one. He relaxed his eyes and focused past the bars of the cages. A small, out of place shape stood out against the angular bars. With his friends still talking nonsense in the background, he slowly made his way over. He considered what the shape could be. Everything from a sack of food to an actual demilich crossed his mind, but he wasn't prepared what he found.

Locked inside one of the suspended cages was a small goblin child. She couldn't have been more than three or four years old. Her dark orange hair was caked with dirt. A threadbare tunic hung off her dangerously thin form. Riz gasped and her head shot up at the sound. She stared at him with intense amber eyes that stood out against the grime covering her face. There was no fear there, only acknowledgement.

Riz cleared his throat. [Hi], he spoke softly in Ghukliak, hoping his accent wasn't too thick. [My name is Riz Gukgak. I'm going to get you out of there... okay?]

A slight curious tilt to her head was the only indication she gave that she understood him. He pulled out his tool and she flinched. [No it's okay!] he said hurriedly as he threw his hands up in surrender, hoping it made him look less threatening. It didn't help. [Look], he said as he tried to hand her one of the tools he didnt need for her door. She snatched it from him.

[This], he said, pointing to his tool, [is something I use to open locks. They can't hurt anyone.] He pulled out a second tool and poked his finger with it to demonstrate. A tiny prick from the pointed edge, but no actual damage.

The child studied the small tool in her hand before cautiously handing it back. Riz took it as a good sign and started to work. The simple unwarded lock was open in seconds.

The door creeked open, but she didn't bolt out like he expected her too. Her head tilted again as she seemed to study the open door and the goblin before her, almost like she was unsure of what to do.

Riz decided to take a careful, patient approach. [It's okay], he said. [You're safe. You can come out now.] She seemed to lean towards the door just a fraction before going back.

Riz stood there and watched. He breathed in and out deeply and tried to relax his muscles, hoping she would do the same. The pungent smell of filth coating her tiny form filled his lungs, but he kept his face relaxed. His plan seemed to work to some degree as the little goblin stopping hiding behind her knees.

The energetic chatter from his friends was starting to die down. They would probably come looking for him any minute now. Riz looked the child directly in the eyes and - with every ounce of sincerely and conviction he could put into it - told her [I promise, I will protect you.]

Something seemed to click within her and she slowly crawled forward.  Her guard was up and Riz had no doubt that she would attack if given the opportunity, but she was still moving towards the door.

She made it to the opening and hesitated. Riz held out his arms. [If you don't wanna walk], he said, [I could carry you... if you want me to].

She looked down at his arms, up to his face, and back again. She seemed to consider his offer before raising her arms. He lifted her up and something in his brain screamed 'too light too light too light!' He tried not to think about the pests in her hair, her pronounced ribs, or what could have happened to her while she was down there. He failed.

Her large ears perked up as his friends started to speak in frantic whispers. He looked down at the child in his arms. [Those], he said with a jerk of his head, [are my friends. I'm going to let them know we're here. They won't hurt us. They will keep us safe.]

They seemed to move closer. He heard a sword being pulled from its scabbard. No time for subtlety. "Guys!" he yelled. She flinched in his arms. "Stay there," he said as he tried to calm her.

"...why?" Fabian asked, confused.

"Are there traps?" That was Sandra Lynn.

"Are you in trouble?" Kristen asked. She sounded worried.

The little goblin turned her head towards the voices and growled low and threateningly. Riz had no idea what the hell he was doing, but he held her close and whisped [It's okay, shhh]. "Everything's okay guys," he answered. "I just need everyone to be very still and nonthreatening."

"What the hell is going on?!" Fabian said. He sounded pissed now.

"We know as much as you do," Adaine answered.

"Is it a trap?" Fig asked.

[Everything's fine], Riz answered. He was too busy trying to calm down a tiny goblin to notice that he was still speaking in Ghukliak. [I found a kid. She's in rough shape. Probably needs healing too if anybody has a spare slot.] Riz also didn't realized that he had walked straight towards his friends on autopilot until someone gasped.

"What the hell is that!" Fabian yelled while pointing his finger at the girl. It was a big mistake. She bared her teeth and lashed out with lightening speed. She missed with her claws, but the tiny points of her teeth sunk into the flesh of Fabian's hand. "Ow!" he screamed as she jerked back towards Riz, still growling and grasping Riz's shirt as she tried to look as menacing as possible. It was nice to know that she trusted him to some degree and wanted to protect him, but gods damn!

"First off," Riz stated, starting to feel fatigued, "don't point your finger and scream at something that's growing at you."

"Uah!" Fabian answered with a sharp exhale, still holding his now injured hand.

"Second," Riz continued, ignoring Fabian's reaction, "this would be a goblin." He looked back towards the area he had just come from. Back towards the rows and rows of rusty cages hanging over a metal grate covered floor. Back towards a place that smelled of sewage and death. "She was... locked in one of the cages." His voice got quieter with each word. "She's just a kid. That asshole... he was locking toddlers in cages."

The others froze. Even Fabian seemed to stiffen as he took in the sight with its horrifying new context. They looked back at Riz and then down at the tiny goblin in his arms. Really looked at her. Bones pressing against skin covered in filth. Sunken tired eyes. Nicks along oversized ears, a jagged edge at the tip of one where a point should have been. Their faces all softened.

Fig shifted her weight and crossed her arms. "Good thing that bastard's already dead," she said, eyes filled with fire and rage, "because I wanna kill him. In fact, can we bring him back so I can do that?" The joking tone that was normally in her voice was completely absent.

"No," Kristen answered softly. "We all need the slots to heal everyone." She walked over to Fig and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Besides," she said as she dismissively waved towards the body of the deceased hobgoblin, "that asshole isn't even worth the time it would take to cast a cantrip."

Fig sighed. "Yeah," she said as some of the fight drained out of her. "You're right. But still..."

Everyone stood silently, save for the child and her steady growl. Adaine cleared her throat. "We should probably get out of here," she said to the group. "I don't believe there are any more, but we don't need to take that chance, especially with a small child in tow."

Everyone nodded in agreement and made their way towards the exit. Riz followed a few steps behind the group, hoping distance from the others would help the child calm down. It seemed to work as her growls quieted slowly as the 'threat' seemed to pass, but she was still on high alert. They continued to walk in silence. It had been a long day.

After over half an hour of walking, Adaine paused for a moment. Riz stopped as well, not wanting to get too close. He watched as she pulled out her spellbook and started flipping through its pages. She mumbled to herself, somehow able to both skim its pages and continue walking at her normal pace without tripping. He wondered if it was a wizard thing.

"I could cast comprehend languages," she said to no one in particular. "Oh but... shoot. That only works on me and only on comprehension, not speaking it. Hum..." more pages rustled as their footsteps echoed in the cave.

"Oh!" Adaine said a bit too loud, amplified by the acoustics of the cave. She didn't seem to notice, too focused on her book. Riz looked down, expecting to see the child on edge again. Instead, she seemed calm and curious about the strange girl before her.

"Tongues," Adaine told the walls. "That could work. Oh... but that one would take an hour to cast..." She flipped a page and ran her fingers over the script. "BUT, I can cast it on anyone and they can both understand languages AND be understood. Hum... it also has a one hour duration and no extra components. Yes. I believe that would be the best option." A comfortable silence followed, save for Adaine reading the complicated spell in a steady tone. Amber eyes watched her intently as the mouth of the cave drew near.

The bright light of the outside made the little one squint and hide her face against Riz's vest. He sighed and pulled off his hat, placing it on her head. If he was going to need to be treated for lice anyway, he might as well make her life a little easier.

Normally the hat would have been far too large for a kid her age, but between her thick hair and the layer of dried mud on top of it, the hat fit her perfectly. She reached up to touch the fabric. There was a flash of a tiny smile that was gone as fast as it came. Riz would have questioned if it had happened at all if he hadn't felt her tiny body relax in his arms.

The further the group got from that horrid place, the more they seemed to relax. Sandra Lynn patted her daughter on the arm before running off to scout ahead. Kristen and Tracker started acting like their lovey dovey selves, occasionally looking back to make sure that they weren't frightening their tiny guest. Soon, the whole party was talking and laughing as Kristen, Tracker, and Fig started working on healing.

That was until the first strum of Fig's bass. Little eyes went wide as her grip tightened on Riz. "Hey Fig!" Riz called out, stopping Fig before she could get another spell out. "I think she's scared of your bass."

"Oh shit!" Fig said, pausing mid strum. "I'm sorry little dude."

Riz furrowed his brow, trying to decide the best course of action. Fig looked genuinely upset over scaring the kid, but her skills were needed. Plus, there was no way to avoid using it in the long term. "Maybe," he said to Fig, still turning over all the options in his head, "you can show her that it's safe?"

"Yeah," she answered with a nod. "I could do that. She looks like she could use a heal anyway."

"Just..." he said, holding up a free hand. "Just let me warn her first."

Riz looked down. The child wasn't growling yet. That was a good sign. [Hey], he said to get her attention. She took her gaze off the others to look up at him. [See that lady with the horns?] She looked away from him towards Fig who had moved closer to the pair, but was still keeping her distance. [Yeah. That's 'Fig'. She helps people and beats up bad guys.] Her death grip on him seemed to loosen a little. [She wants to help you feel better. Is that okay?]

She looked back and forth between Riz and Fig. He watched the gears turn as she silently contemplated and examined Fig (for what, he couldn't say). Finally, she pointed a finger at Fig and looked up at Riz. "I think she's saying that you can come over," Riz said without breaking eye contact with her.

"You sure?" Fig asked, hesitantly. As if somehow understanding the intention behind the words, the little hand currency pointing at Fig became more insistent. Fig laughed. "Okay!" she answered. "You got it boss."

Fig made her way towards the pair. "Hey kid," she said, walking backwards as she faced them. Her longer legs allowed her to walk the same speed as Riz (show off). "I'm Fig. You got a name?"

Riz immediately felt like an idiot for not asking. [She wants to know what your name is], he said. The child looked up at him and tilted her head. She looked... confused. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! How long was she even trapped down there?!

Riz looked back up. "I don't think she knows," he said.

"Shit dude," Fig answered as she fell in step beside Riz. Amber eyes watched her closely. "That's really messed up."

Riz was about to say more when a little finger poked his chest. He looked down and was met with a very scrunched up annoyed face. "Huh?" he asked, a bit confused.

"I think she wants you to translate dude," Fig answered with a smirk.

Riz smiled. His heart felt warm. ['Fig' said you deserve a name], he said tactfully. [So we are gonna help you find one that you like.]

Her reaction was unexpected, but priceless. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. She swiveled her head quickly back and fourth between Riz and Fig, his hat barely staying on her head. She blinked rapidly, trying to process something. Riz wasn't entirely sure how to take the reaction until her smile appeared again. Just the tiniest quirk to the corners of her mouth, only this time it stayed several seconds before it was gone.

"Woah," Fig said. She was smiling too, only it was bright and so big that it made her eyes crinkle. "What brought that on?"

"I told her we would help her find a name," Riz answered.

"Yes!" Fig exclaimed. "We gotta find one that's really cool, like... Bonecrusher or... um..." Fig screwed her face as she tried to think of a second option.

"Fig," Riz said. He was trying to sound serious, but it was hard when you're standing next to someone that though a sexy rat was a great idea. "We are not naming a small goblin child Bonecrusher. That is a TERRIBLE idea. For so many reasons!"

He felt a tiny finger jab his chest again. [Sorry], he said to the aforementioned small goblin child. ['Fig' is really excited about helping you find a name.] The response seemed to satisfy her as she looked back over at Fig.

Fig studied her a moment and slowly help out her bass. "This," she said, pointing to the instrument, "is a bass. I use it to make music, help people, and kick ass. You can touch it, if you want."

The child glanced at Riz. [She said this is a 'bass'], he translated. [It's how she uses her powers. She said you can touch it.]

The child considered this. Fig kept her bass held out as they walked. It was unusual for Fig to be patient about anything. Riz was grateful that today was one of those days.

A tiny hand reached out towards the bass before shooting back. Fig just kept holding it in position. Several aborted attempts later, a tiny hand finally reached the guitar. She looked up at Fig. Fig smiled.

"You wanna hear it play?" Fig asked, her smile now crooked and filled with mischief.

[She wants to know if you want to hear it make sounds], Riz said without being asked.

She looked up at Fig and down at the instrument, her hand still resting on the red finish. She pulled her hand away, only to point at the bass.

"Ask and you shall receive," Fig answered, playing a single note.

A tiny gasp came out of the child as her mouth hung slightly open. Her tiny hand went forward again, hesitant but more sure. She stopped with a finger over a string and looked up to Fig. Fig nodded and her finger went down and plucked a string. A single note rang out. She watched the string vibrate before plucking another with a bit more force. It sounded louder than the first. She tilted her head in a way that was starting to become familiar before plucking the first string again. Then the second. First. Second. First. Second. Her eyebrows furrowed the entire time as if she was unlocking a secret, her eyes focused in concentration. She eventually tried the other strings as well. When she was finaly satisfied, she brought her hand back to Riz and looked up at Fig.

"Not bad for a first try," Fig said, the smile still plastered on her face. She seemed to be enjoying herself and her current audience. "Wanna see something even cooler?"

[She said you did good], Riz translated, [She wants to show you something else... are you're okay with that?]

The child looked up at Fig and waited. Fig took this as a yes and started to play. Normally Fig was loud and brash, but the soft melody was soothing, warm, and laced with a magic that was so very Fig. The child seemed entraced by the song, her sharp eyes watching in awe.

Riz felt the child's body relax as the magic enveloped her. She sighed and laid her head down on his shoulder. Her eyes were still fixed on Fig, her ears pointed towards the sound, but her body was heavy and still. Her grip losened as the magic did its work. Fig continued to play the soft melody as the amber eyes watching her fluttered closed.

*****

Special thanks to @plutosfury for helping me brainstorm the OC and to Pluto and @winterpower98 for being my beta readers. Also, thank you to my wonderful readers @fangirlsftw , @the-ipre , @riz-gukgak , @pete-theplug , Winter, and Pluto who helped me get past my anxiety about posting this. You guys rock! ^_^