#this makes me act a bit distant to stay safe

[morningmask27]

i’ve got a crush on a girl in my class for a few months now, i haven’t let anyone but my mother and therapist know about it (simply because I need to complain about having a crush to someone or I’d explode). now we have been put together in a group for a huge project. it’s just us two so i’ll have to work super hard to not let anything show.

[thebeesatemyknees]

141 as ex-husbands

Some ex-husband (ooc) Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish x reader headcanons.

Word count: 860 || No warnings (let me know if any). || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"

Note: In all four scenarios, you got divorced for fairly harmless reasons. You were getting along, you loved each other, there was no fighting. But perhaps you realised that you both have different hopes for the future. Maybe you got sick of waiting for him, missing him, of worrying if he's gonna come home alive and in one piece. Maybe he didn't realise how lonely you felt beside him.

Ex-husband Simon Riley, who still thinks of you as "his", but not in a possessive way. You're still his person, his family. He still would do anything for you and wouldn't even give it a second thought. 

You need help assembling new furniture? He can come by after work. Need a ride to the doctor's appointment? He needed to run some errands anyway, it's not a big deal. Anything happens while he's deployed? You can call his base and he'll contact you as soon as possible.

And he doesn't expect anything back. How could he? He's gonna do anything for you because that's what you're supposed to do for your people. And he'll give you your space, keep it clean between you. You wanted a divorce and he respects that, doing his best not to overstep any boundaries. He's mindful of the things he says, keeps his hands away from you. A respectful distance.

But God, does he miss you. If you showed the slightest interest in getting back together, he would agree immediately, going back to what you two had, as if the divorce never happened. 

Ex-husband John Price, who kinda forgets that you're not married anymore. Similar to Simon, John still thinks of you as his and would do anything for you without expecting anything back. 

But you often have to remind him that he's overstepping. "Darling" or "love" casually added to his sentences. Hands gently holding your shoulders or hips while he directs you to move to a different spot. He doesn't do it on purpose. The last thing he'd want is to disrespect your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. But keeping you close just comes so naturally to him.

He apologises quietly when you reprimand him, pulling his hands away and restating what he said without the pet name this time.

He wouldn't beg you to give him another chance. He's got enough respect, towards you and himself, to not be dramatic, to not make it messy. But he has a hard time accepting this new reality.

Ex-husband Kyle Garrick, who subconsciously goes back to courting you, as if your marriage never happened and all of it was still ahead of you. 

He's more distant, doesn't initiate touches, doesn't use pet names anymore. And at first you think it's because that's just how break-ups work, because he'd moved on. But it all seems to be caused by him suddenly becoming almost shy around you. 

He sends you messages from time to time, checking if you're doing alright. He asks you out for coffee, just to catch up. You ended things on good terms, so there's no harm in it, right? And you can see him trying to act casually about it. He brings you one singular flower he picked on his way to the café. Cuz you like them, don't you? It's not a big deal, he saw it and put it in the pocket of his jacket. So casual. Then, your conversation stays on a purely platonic path. Well, except for a few compliments and pick up lines he throws your way. But that's what friends do! And if you don't let him drive you home, he asks you to at least text him to let him know you got back safely.

If you confront him about his behaviour, he gets quiet. His jaw twitches, a shameful look fills his eyes as he looks away, unable to fully face you. He doesn't feel like he's in the position to defend himself, to argue. He's guilty. He wants you back for himself. And he so badly regrets letting you go without trying harder to fix things.

Ex-husband Johnny MacTavish, who becomes bitter towards the whole world. He's not happy about losing you and he's straightforward about it. He's hurt, filled with regrets, he's angry - but not directly at you. He understands and respects your wishes, but he's just so angry with himself. Angry that he didn't notice where your marriage was going, that he didn't change his ways, that he assumed that you're his and therefore he's got a lot of time to slowly fix things. Angry that he didn't do enough. 

He wouldn't hide his emotions. He wouldn't get shy,  wouldn't just quietly yearn for you. 

He keeps his hands to himself, making sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable and that you still feel safe around him. But he continuously asks you for another chance. He knows better now. He can be better. Just give him a chance. Or at least let him do this or that for you. And don't act as if him helping you is weird! He's yours, nothing will change that. He promised he'd be there in sickness and in health, and he meant it. No matter how much your life-paths split. So stop pushing him away and just let him help. He'll stop asking you for a second chance, but at least let him be there for you.

He aggressively offers himself to you. Getting upset and moody if you act as if he was more akin to a stranger rather than someone who belonged, body and soul, to you.

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Say it

Pairing: RE4R!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Reader

Summary: After coming back from Spain, Leon has been acting distant. You think seeing a face from the past has messed with his feelings, and he wants to prove you that is not the case.

Takes place after the events of re4 remake, mentions the events of RE2 remake as well

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), p in v, creampie, choking, praise kink, soft dom leon, he talks you through it, they're both just desperate for each other, the s in leon s kennedy stands for slut, language, established relationship

WC: 4.4k

A/N: I've been thinking about this mf ever since I played the remake. So I wrote this self indulgent piece of filth. This is my first time writing for him so pls be kind. Enjoy :)

You can also read this over at Ao3 (but pls still reblog and shit here thank u)

Leon Kennedy Masterlist

Creds of gift above to this tumblr

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

You knew you had no right to be upset, not when you knew damn well what he went through. Or more so, you didn’t actually know what he went through, so you couldn’t possibly imagine what was going through his head right now. But still, you knew something else was in his head, and it wasn’t just the horrors he had to deal with to come back alive from Spain. There was something else in his mind. You knew it.

This silence, it was killing you. Leon wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, not after Raccoon City, but for the better part of a decade, you learned to be comfortable with his silence. Right now though, you just felt uncomfortable.  

“Want me to pour you one?”

Oh he speaks.

You lifted your head from the pile of papers on your lap at the sound of his voice, you saw him standing in front of the small cabinet where he kept all of his alcohol, glass and bottle of expensive whiskey in hand. You half smiled at him and shook your head. 

“Not right now, thank you.” You watched him shrug in response and take a long sip of his glass, before he walked over to join you on the couch. But he sat on the opposite end.

You frowned a bit when he sat so far, but you chose to not comment on it and instead brought your attention back to your paper. A good five minutes went by, and you had made zero improvements, you hadn't even picked up the pen again, so Leon spoke again.

“How’s the paper coming along?” He asked with a clear of his throat as he sat back, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him and his head was turned in your direction.

You sighed heavily, “It’s not. I can’t for the life of me come up with the right words.” You groaned softly as you threw your head back and rubbed your tired eyes.

You were in the same place you were a little less than a week ago, when Leon left to find Ashley Graham in the middle of nowhere Spain, not knowing if you’d ever see him again or not. You couldn’t even sleep, or eat, let alone focus on a paper. And although Leon was now home, alive, you were still preoccupied. 

“And that is exactly why I dropped out.” 

“This is a Phd program, not my second year of undergrad. Undergrad was nowhere near as bad as this.” You snorted softly and shot him a look. He gave you an annoyed look knowing you were teasing him. “Besides, what you do is way worse than some paper. Fighting weird cults and bioweapons or whatever they’re called.”

“Yeah..” He scoffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t humorous. His expression quickly turned serious as he looked down at his lap. You could see the way his grip tightened the slightest bit around his glass and his jaw ticked.

He had been home a few days by now, having stayed in D.C for a few days to finish all of the report and briefing, and you hadn’t talked about what had happened to him in Spain, just that Ashley was safe, and some weird cult was behind it all, but he couldn’t say much more, or maybe just didn’t want to. Regardless, any mention of it would make him tense up. 

He got quiet, and his eyes not once looked your way again. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat up, leaning over your knees to be able to reach him.

“Leon,” You said his name softly and a gentle hand touched his leg. You felt him tense up, but he didn’t make any attempts to move away from your touch. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t care if he didn’t want to open up, you didn’t expect him to, and you would never force him to, but you wanted him to know you would listen if he did.

A shaky exhale left his lips, but he nodded. “Yeah baby, I’m good.” He answered after a few seconds, forcing a smile and forced himself to look your way, but his eyes never met with yours.

God this was killing you. 

Before you could respond, he downed the rest of his whiskey before rising to his feet and he started walking without saying a word. Oh no. Absolutely not. If there was something that made your blood boil, it was him walking away in the middle of a conversation. The avoidance. That was something you couldn’t deal with. 

“Leon.” You called his name firmly as you stood up and looked at him with a frown. He turned around with an exasperated spin and a tight jaw, frustration already starting to show. “Do not give me that look, Leon Kennedy.”

He smacked his tongue softly, holding back the urge to roll his eyes, “I’m not. I’m just..” He didn’t finish his sentence, he just sighed out loudly.

You let out your own sigh as you walked to stand in front of him. You stared up at him, eyes big as you met his pale blue ones. They looked emptier and less bright every time he came back from a mission, but this look, this look that screamed he was having a mental hurricane, he only had it after Raccoon City. 

“Baby I know… I don’t, I don’t know what you saw, or did in Spain, and I know you’re having a hard time right now. I just..” You sighed shakily, bringing your hands up to hold his face between them. He tensed up again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his head hung low, but he said nothing and didn’t move away either. “See, this is what I mean. You don’t even want me to touch you. I want to comfort you, I want to help, but you won’t let me. I thought.. I thought we were past that.”

Your hands were at your sides now, and you had taken a step back from him. That seemed to make him look at you, now with big eyes full of guilt, like he hadn’t even realized he was rejecting you. He had been in his own head, not being able to forget the events of Spain, and not being able to sort out his feelings like he knew he should have. God, had he been acting like this the whole time he was home? Rejecting your attempts at comfort? 

“Baby..” He stepped forward, closing the gap you had just created, but he didn’t touch you. He just looked at you, lips parted. He didn’t know how to tell you. “It’s not that.. And it’s not you. In Spain.. There was someone else on that island..”

You stared at him with confusion at first, unsure what exactly that had to do with this. His eyes searched for yours with this guilt ridden and conflicted look. The same look he gave you after Raccoon City. The same one he gave you before he told you he needed time. And then it dawned on you. 

Someone else. 

“You saw her again, didn’t you?” Realization quickly flashed over your face, and that quickly turned into a mixture of anger and hurt as your gaze hardened. Leon saw it. “That’s what it is. You saw Ada. You saw Ada and now you have your balls all twisted up. Again.”

Now it was you who was walking away from him. You weren’t even going to argue this time, and you didn’t want to wait for him to tell you he needed time again. You were halfway up the stairs when Leon started to call your name, but you ignored him and simply turned the corner into your shared bedroom. 

“Shit.” He cursed to himself, sprinting after you, missing two steps and nearly tripping up the stairs in the process. 

By the time he made it to your bedroom you already had a backpack thrown on the bed as you aggressively threw clothes into it. His eyes widened with slight panic when he realized what you were doing.

“Hey, woah. It’s the middle of the night, where the hell are you going?” He huffed, walking back and forth between the bed and your dresser as you continued to aggressively toss clothes on the bed.

“Claire’s. Move.” You muttered as you stopped on your heels when Leon stood right in front of you, arms folded over his chest like a wall between you and your dresser. “Leon, I swear to God.”

“Just listen. It wasn’t like that. Nothing happened, sweetheart I swear.” God he wanted to hold you so bad, he didn’t realize just how much until now. But he didn’t reach for you, he kept his arms over his chest, afraid you would backhand him if he tried. 

“Yeah, ‘cause you probably realized she was just using you again, so you had no other choice but to come back home to me, and not with her, right?” You scoffed, the hurt and betrayal clear in your voice. He opened his mouth, but you didn’t even let him speak, “And before you ask me for time to sort out your feelings, I'm just gonna go stay at Claire’s, and maybe don’t bother looking for me this time.” 

You grabbed the backpack from the bed with whatever you managed to shove in there and started to walk to the door. But Leon was faster than you, stronger too. And before you could step foot outside that bedroom, he had closed the door and backed you into it, both of his hands pressed flat on the door on either side of your head. Your eyes were wide when you looked at him, lips parted but he didn’t let you speak this time.

“Do not say another word, don’t you fucking dare. Just listen to me.” He stressed every word with an authority that instantly made you close your mouth. You blinked a couple of times but didn’t dare say a word. So he continued. “Get this through your head, Ada means absolutely nothing to me anymore. She asked me to go with her, after everything and I.. I said no. I said no ‘cause I want nothing to do with her. I said no ‘cause I wanted to come home to you.”

“Leon..”

He shook his head at you as one of his hands gripped your jaw tightly and he bowed his head to speak closely to you. “I know I’ve been an asshole to you these past few days, I didn't realize I was shutting you out, and I’m sorry. But know that I would never chose Ada over you, not now, not fucking ever. I love you and I’m gonna marry you someday, don’t ever question that.”

You could hear your own breath, his breath, and he kept a tight grip on your jaw as his nose brushed against yours. You closed your eyes and sigh left your lips as you leaned in to press your lips against his, but he pulled back enough to leave you chasing.

"Stay here. Please baby." His voice was low and almost desperate. Fuck, you wanted him take you right then and there. You couldn't even speak, you just nodded, eyes still closed and lips parted. "Say it." 

"Yes. Yes, I'll stay, just.." You breathed out the words, mirroring his desperate tone as you clenched your fists around his t-shirt, pulling his body flush against yours. "Please." 

His mouth came crashing down against yours so hard he pulled a gasp from your throat. But it quickly turned into a whimper when he angled your head back, allowing him to slip in his tongue. And you happily allowed him to do so as his other hand gripped the back of your thigh. 

"Up." He mumbled against your lips as he nearly effortlessly hoisted you up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso.

He walked the short distance to the bed, fingers squeezing your thigh and lips never leaving yours. He only pulled away when he laid you down on the mattress. You were about to whine when he leaned back, but you only managed to suck in a sharp breath as you watched him pull his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes landed on the bruises and injuries he had come home with, a large knife cut across his bicep, now slightly pink as it began to heal, another smaller one above his collarbone, less angry looking, and more purple bruises than you could count, but they were starting to heal as well. Goddamn, even bruised he was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen. Clearly you must've been distracted by the absolute sight that was your boyfriend because you didn’t realize he started to undress you as well until he pulled your t-shirt -that was actually one of his old ones- over your head. He flashed you with a grin and a look that was outright filthy before he leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your breasts while one of his hands played with the other. 

The whimper that fell from your lips was almost pathetic, and you couldn’t help but arch your back further into Leon’s mouth, his lips sending shocks of electricity down your spine.

“Please Leon.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were begging for, but you were begging.

He pulled back from your breast with a hum, and tilted his head at you, “Please what?” You gave him a pitiful look, and made a sound resembling a whine. He simply stared at you with feign innocence, “What, baby? What do you want? Tell me.” 

Oh Leon S. Kennedy. That S didn’t stand for Scott, it stood for stubborn, because he had to have his way, no matter what.

You made the same pathetic noise, instinctively trying to rub your thighs together to give yourself to relief, but of course, Leon’s body was right in the fucking way, “Please I want.. Ugh fuck sakes Leon. I want your mouth, I want your cock, I want all of you, please.”

Leon had this smug smirk on his lips and he hummed, satisfied with your pathetic pleads, “Alright baby, this is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna make you come on my tongue, then you can come on my cock all you want. Would you like that?” 

God, the look you gave him right then made him want to split you wide open. That look of pure need that you could only give him, that you have only given him. And you nodded with so much eagerness it was almost adorable. 

“Do you remember how to speak sweetheart?” He asked with this mocking voice and a smirk that made you pull your lips into a small pout as you nodded, and then he smiled at you, head tilted, “Then use your words. Say ‘yes Leon’.”

This motherfucker.

You grumbled a whine of annoyance, for a moment feeling defiant, but Leon quickly gave you a warning look, a look that had you backing down pretty fucking quick, “Yes Leon.” You finally said, hoping that would get you what you wanted.

So he is stubborn, and an arrogant asshole. Checks out.

He gave you a satisfied smirk, and planted a hard kiss to your lips before he moved down the bed. He pressed his lips to your stomach as he pulled your pajama pants down your legs, your panties quickly following. You shivered softly when the cold air hit your core, but the cold was quickly replaced with his warm breath. His pale sapphire eyes found yours for a second as he threw your legs over his broad shoulders, pulling you closer to his face. He dragged his tongue from your entrance to your clit and drew his tongue over the sensitive bud. The sounds that were coming from your mouth were anything but subtle. Your hands instantly flew to clutch his long hair. And while you might have not intended to pull, when two of his fingers slipped into you to join the rhythm of his tongue, you just couldn’t help yourself. You pulled, and fucking hard. He growled, sending vibrations through your core that had you gasping and he dug his other hand into your thigh as he forced you still on the mattress. 

“Oooh fuck, fuck Leon,” Your broken moans filled his ears, just as he felt the burn on his scalp from your pulling. 

He knew exactly where his mouth needed to be and where his fingers needed to curl to make you come apart, he prided himself in that. And with the way you kept crying out his name and your body wouldn’t stay on the mattress, he knew you had to be pretty fucking close. 

“Stay fucking still.” He growled as he pulled back enough for his thumb to replace his tongue for just a second, just so he could watch the way your body writhed each time his fingers brushed against your most sensitive spot. “Yeah that’s it, you’re so close, aren’t you baby? Mhm yeah. C’mon pretty girl, c’mon.”

His tongue quickly replaced his thumb on your clit, his lips closing around the swollen bud as his fingers scissored you open, the lewd sound of his mouth lapping at your dripping cunt filling your ears in the most delicious way possible. And you couldn’t help it, you pushed his head further against you, and the growl that rumbled in his throat as he abused your clit sent vibrations that had you seeing white. Your release coated his face and hand as you fell into a fit of shaking sobs.

His fingers left you slowly, making sure you felt every second of it as his tongue still circled slowly around your swollen clit, not stopping until you were practically pulling him away by his hair, your body still twitching a bit. He chuckled softly, leaving a wet kiss to your thigh in silent praise before slowly climbing up your body. 

You opened your eyes to find him settled between your parted thighs, two fingers in his mouth and he moaned lowly as he tasted your juices off his fingers. Your mouth was wide open, and a whine left your lips. 

“Hm? Wanna taste baby?” He smirked as he pulled his fingers from his lips and leaned down, pulling you into a messy kiss by your jaw. You could taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips, and fuck, it had you clenching around nothing. He groaned softly, his clothed cock brushing against your wet cunt. He quickly pulled back, seemingly not wanting to wait any longer. “You taste so fucking good, but you feel even better.” 

He ridded himself of his sweatpants in a second or two, boxer briefs quickly joining on the floor. He hissed softly as he sat on his knees and brushed his cock over your entrance, covering himself in your slick.

“Please babe..” You whine softly, legs dangling over his hips as you endured his torture. He chuckled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he leaned over you, your legs high on his torso as he slowly filled you, your walls instantly clenching around his cock. 

Leon moaned softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slipped further inside you, fingers digging into your hips with enough force to bruise, “Oooh fuck yeah, atta girl.”

You could only moan weakly in response, sounds so pathetic and broken, and Leon loved every goddamn second of it. He sat still for a few seconds, soaking in the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, but the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders encouraged him to move. He snapped his hips, over, and over, each delicious drag of his cock making you cry out. His pace was brutal almost immediately, and you were clinging on to him like that was all you were meant to do, to take everything he had to give you.

“Goddamn, you’re taking my cock so well baby. Mhmm, doing such a good job,” His words were coming out in between moans and whimpers, the feeling of you cunt clutching him so well making him just as desperate as he made you. “This is what you needed, hm pretty girl? Yeah, me too.”

He had your knees nearly pressed up to your chest by then as he fucked you into the matress, and you took it happily. You nodded eagerly, gripping his hair and pulling his face from your neck to meet your gaze. “You’re.. You’re mine, mkay? Just mine.”

Your words of ownership caught him by surprise, and he laughed between pants, biting down on his lip and he hovered over you enough to press his forehead against yours, the change in angle allowing him to hit your most sensitive spot, and he had you mouth wide open.

“Yours huh? I’m yours?” He asked with a wide smirk, your words clearly riling him up. You nodded quickly. “This dick is just yours, right baby? Is that what you want me to say? That no one else can have me? That no one else deserves it?”

He grunted out the words, lacking as much control as you did, but still in control enough to taunt you, to get you going, and fuck, he got you going like one else could. You were practically screaming ‘yes!’ at the top of your lungs. Your neighbors probably knew Leon was back by then. But neither of you could honestly be bothered to care about noise. 

“Yes! Yes, only I can have you.” Your words were broken, your voice was absolutely broken in between fits of sobs. Your hands were gripping at his blonde strands as your toes curled, the flash of heat you so desperately craved to feel a second time settling in your body as you continued to take in his punishing thrusts. But you still managed to say, “Please say it. That you’re mine. Fuck, please say it.”

Fuck, when you begged him like that, so close to falling apart for him, how could he ever deny you anything?”

The moan that fell from his lips at your words left you shaking, but you were not ready for what he decided to do next. He leaned down, as close as he could to your face, lips almost touching as he wrapped his large hand around your throat, and between pants he said, “I’m all yours baby.” 

You don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your entire life, and Leon felt it. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as your walls clenched around him, hard. A shaky whimper left his mouth as his hips started to falter, his thrusts becoming more sharp and shallow the closer he was to his own release. You held him tightly, fingers gripping his hair and his name left your lips in soft sighs enticing him to fall apart as well.

“Mmm goddamn, I’m so close. Fuck, let me come inside you baby. Ugh,” His words were shaky, so close to falling apart. You nodded eagerly, clinging onto to him as he squeezed your throat, his moans getting louder and shakier before he fell still, cock twitching as he spilled himself inside you, “Ooooh fuck, mhmm that’s it baby. Take it like the good girl that you are.”

You closed your eyes in delight, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you ran your fingers through his slick hair soothingly, his hand now resting beside your head just as he rested his face on your neck. His quick and heavy breaths were hot on your neck, just as his body was hot on yours, but neither of you wanted to move, or leave the other. He needed you to hold him, and you needed him to let you. He never wanted you to doubt what he felt for you, ever again. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, holding each other, Leon still inside you. Probably once he no longer had the energy to keep his weight off you, so with a kiss to your jaw, he moved away, lying beside you instead. He ran a hand through his disheveled and sweaty strands, getting his hair away from his face. With a lazy smile, he glanced over at you, equally fucked out, hair just as sweaty and disheveled as his. He bit his lip softly and leaned over to press a soft kiss to your lips. You hummed softly, bringing your hand to hold his face.

“Mmm, I think I should make you jealous more often if you’re gonna fuck me like that.” He laughed softly, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You pulled back enough to look at him and you glared at him, nudging his head away. He only laughed harder.

“That was no jealousy, you asshole.” You rolled your eyes at him, lips slightly pursed, but the way he smiled at you and tilted his head made you crack a small smile. “I’m serious. Leon I swear to God if I find out you contact her again I will stab you in your sleep with your own knife.”

Leon knew your threat of bodily harm wasn’t serious, but he knew the reason behind it was, he knew he hurt you after Raccoon City, and it took him a long time to earn back your trust, and he would never put you through that again. 

“I won’t, I want nothing to do with her. I never did. I love you, that’s never going to change, yeah?” He leaned forward, a small smile tugging at his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile too. You believed him.

“I know. I love you too.”

“Good. Now I’ll go run us a bath for round two.” He shot you a wink as he got up and laughed when he saw the look you gave him, “That was a joke. I meant to get cleaned up.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and simply shook your head as you watched him walk across your bedroom, but when he was about to walk out, you called his name.

“Yeah baby?” He said, peeking his head into your bedroom from the hallway.

“So, when are we getting married?”

[wallowslistener]

soft for you. ೨ৎ r. cameron x reader

𐙚˚ rafe cameron x fem!reader. fluff. 0.6k words.

✦ rafe cameron wasn’t the type of guy to linger, and he certainly wasn’t the type to care. not about people, at least. but lately, you’d noticed something different in his behavior when he was around you. smaller gestures, slight hesitations, and moments when he looked at you with a softness that you didn’t see when he was around others.

it started with the little things. like tonight, at a kook party, the sounds of laughter and music were thick in the air. rafe was doing his usual thing, flitting around with his friends, smirking at half the people in the room, and pretending he owned it. you’d slipped outside, escaping the loud music for some fresh air, thinking you’d gone unnoticed.

but after a few minutes, you heard footsteps behind you.

“could’ve at least let me know where you were going,” rafe muttered, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. he had that same guarded look on his face, but his eyes held something else. something closer to concern than his usual indifference. 

you blinked at him, a bit surprised by his tone. “didn’t know i needed permission to step outside.”

he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t walk away. instead, he settled beside you on the railing, a little closer than you’d expected, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. the two of you stood there in silence for a moment, the only sounds being the music from the house and the distant waves crashing against the shore.

“you don’t,” he said after a pause, softer than his usual tone. “i just... i don’t like people messing with you out here.”

you glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “are you worried about me, rafe cameron?”

he scoffed, looking away quickly, but you caught the faintest flush on his cheeks. “nah, don’t get a big head about it. it’s just... you don’t know how people are around here.”

his voice softened as he spoke, his gaze drifting away, as though he didn’t want you to see the look in his eyes. you’d known rafe long enough to recognize that he hid his feelings, especially when they made him feel vulnerable. he didn’t do soft; he did reckless, intense, sometimes cruel. But never gentle.

still, he lingered, staying close, his posture just a little more relaxed. every now and then, you’d catch him looking at you, his eyes holding something unspoken, something that seemed to surprise even him.

after a moment, you sighed, nudging his shoulder lightly. “you’re not as tough as you think, rafe.”

he glanced at you sharply, his face going blank for a second. then, to your surprise, he gave a quiet chuckle, his lips curving into a half smile. “you really don’t get it, do you?”

you tilted your head, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor. “get what?”

“that you’re the one thing I actually care about,” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost lost in the sounds around you. he turned his gaze back to the ocean, his jaw clenched as if he’d just said something he regretted.

but then, he let out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at you again, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “i don’t know how you did it, but… yeah, i guess i do have a soft spot for you. don’t tell anyone, alright?”

a soft laugh escaped your lips, and you nodded. “your secret’s safe with me, rafe.”

for once, he didn’t put on an act, didn’t flash that cocky smile or make a sharp comment. he just looked at you, his eyes holding a quiet sincerity that made your heart skip. in that moment, rafe cameron wasn’t the reckless, troubled guy everyone thought he was. he was just a boy with a soft spot. one he was finally beginning to accept.

[the-daiz]

When you’re sick | One punch man

Synopsis; How the one punch men would act when you’re bed ridden

genre: fluff, hc

Characters: Saitama, Genos, Speed-o’-sound sonic, flashy flash, Zombieman, Garou

side note; My… my hands… wont… stop typing… save me…. I’m gonna hibernate after this post

SAITAMA

Shockingly takes very good care of you

he’s a mundane guy that lives alone and needs to take care of himself, so I’d assume he’s gotten his fair share of sick days

He’ll be softer and more careful with his words

He lets you huddle up in his futon, even if he’s a little annoyed cuz now he needs to find somewhere else to sleep,

he still wants you to be close to him so he can look out for you

makes you lotssss of tea and warm meals

and bananas! (Saitama loves bananas)

he knows all the foods to avoid when you’re sick, ex: eggs

he’ll probably spend most of his day sitting next to you while he watches tv or talks to you about something

doesn’t leave the house to do any hero work so he can stay by your side

like I said before, he takes veryyy good care of you until you feel better

GENOS

oh gets really worried

a little bit frantic even, but he doesn’t let it show

does a shit ton of research about your illness/symptoms and how to take care of it

Consults dr kuseno

who of course gives him a lot of advice

he’s hella dotting

Like fr he doesn’t leave your side

despite being an S-class hero, unless its an absolute emergency, he DOES NOT LEAVE YOUR SIDE

Will make sure you take your medication exactly on time

Prepares gourmet type meals for you

Also expect a lot of broth, soup etc etc

Will offer you any form of physical affection you want. Since he’s a cyborg he doesn’t get sick, so will cuddle you all day without complaints if thats what you’d like

He’s constantly checking up on, his cool metal hand pressed gently on your forehead while his mechanic eyes inspect your frame, a small frown etched on his temple.

he’s so cute kms

SPEED OF SOUND SONIC

He knows how to take care of you

he’s gotten sick PLENTY of times, it never lasted long though because his immune system is simply goated

That being said, he’s very… awkward?

he’s concerned and worried, don’t get me wrong, but he’ll probably try to hide it

His words won’t reassure you much but his actions will!

He’ll drop off supplies like medication, food, herbs, or anything else you need, whether you mention it or he decides you need it anyway.

he’ll check up on you a lot, and he’ll try to stay nearby to make sure your safe

but honestly, you having to rely on him when you’re vulnerable makes him feel prideful

he doesn’t admit it, but he kind of likes having you sick, just a tinsy bit

FLASHY FLASH

Oh god

of course he’s terribly worried about you

very aloof about it though

I’ll start with the cons: He’s sort of emotionally distant, and offers very little emotional support, and he won’t try sticking by your side as often as the other characters

Now that that’s out of the way,

He does make sure you have everything you need, and if he’s not with you, probably because he’s doing some hero work, he’ll text you or call very occasionally to ask how you’re doing and if you need anything

If you do mention that you’re feeling worse, he’ll be right by your side in an instant

ZOMBIEMAN

He’s very down-to-earth and calm about it

He won’t fuss over it or worry too much in the slightest

He’ll take good care of you, bringing you meals in bed, drink lots of fluids and getting enough rest

he’ll focus on making you as comfortable as possible too

He’ll leave for hero work every once in awhile, thats unless you’re really sick, then he’ll stay rooted beside you without another word

He’ll spend a lot of time just sitting or laying next to you. If you’re uncomfortably hot and would probably not want him to sleep beside you, he’ll sit on a chair and quietly hold your hand.

If you want him to talk, he’ll talk, and if you don’t, he’ll sit wordlessly without complaints.

he’ll probably crack a joke here or there if the mood is too damp

also, he’ll offer lots of forehead kissess

GAROU

He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s got the spirit! 😍😍

this lone wolf isn’t used to taking care of people, let alone himself

He’ll probably tell you to just walk it off, but his protective instincts will kick in anyway

he’ll try to stay by your side as much as possible

he’ll grumble and act like he’s annoyed, but he really isn’t

he’s a little harsh, probably giving you some weird motivation like “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” or smth

he’s genuinely concerned for you though, just be patient with him, he’s trying

[urfavlarry]

You wanted requests so i shall deliver.

Tyler x f!reader oneshot, were tyler gets jealous of how close she is with the others (as in flirts with them as a joke)

(lets put a little spice in that shall we?)

They aren't officially together. They have kissed before but no one knows about it. So everytime reader pulls some shit like, blowing a kiss to aiden, tyler gets pissed

Imma fill your inbox brb😋

-🤍anon

Is that jealousy I smell?

Tyler Hernández x fem!reader

a/n: sorry this is so short, had no more ideas for this but still hope you enjoy

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Something was off sbout Tyler, he was more grumpy then usual and has been avoiding you for a bit. You weren’t stupid, you knew why he was so distant but you didn’t care much about it. It wasn’t like you two were together and he didn’t bother asking you to be more then just a friend, so you kept your usual flirty personality. Everyone knew it was just playful jokes, most people going along with it or just laughing it off which you were happy for. You thought more about Tyler, remembering the time he kissed you after one of his matches. It was like those typical american high school movies, which was cheesy as hell but so what? You got a kiss from Tyler Hernández! You missed it dearly, but you weren’t the type of person to go beg for peoples attention. You were currently at your house with the rest of the group in your room. You were talking about plans for the weekend since it was friday and you were all bored out of your mind. You and Aiden were playfully sending winks and kisses, giggling about it like 12 year old girls but Tyler was really not having it.

To say he was fuming was an understatement, but like always he didn’t do anything about it. You excuse yourself and go to the kitchen downstairs, grabbing yourself a glass of water when you hear footsteps approaching. You put the cup down and you suddenly get turned around quite harshly, an angry Tyler before you. “What the fuck is up with you and Aiden?” He asks and you look at him with a smirk. “What? Is Mr. Hernández jealous?” You say and he glares, shutting you up. “You fucking like him don’t you?” He asks and you shrug; “And if I did? We aren’t dating Tyler so it’s none of your business.” You say and try to walk away but he had a firm grip on you.

He looked devastates but tried to hide it, collecting his thoughts before speaking up; “Okay, don’t expect a long speech, I’m not good at those, but I really like you Y/N and I wanted to let you know, I just never knew when or how i’d do it.” He confesses, standing there looking embarrassed. He let your arm go and looked you in the eyes, he wasn’t necessarily glaring but he did have a very serious expression on his face. “Yeah alright, I love you too Ty, I finally got you to say it.” You tease and his eyes widen and he hits you playfully; “You were just trying to make me say it cuz you were too embarrassed to do so yourself!” He blames and you giggle, running out the room and back upstairs. He ran after you and everyone stared at the two of you. Tyler had a hand on your was and you rested your head on his shoulder, sitting on your bed. “Finally, I was afraid my very good acting skills were going to waste.” Aiden spoke up and everyone erupted in laughter, Tyler just grumbling some swears cussing Aiden out.

You chuckled softly and all of you joked for the rest of the night, finally having fun like normal teens before everyone decided it was a good time to go home. You waved everyone goodbye, Taylor and Tyler staying behind for a few more minutes longer. Taylor waited outside, giving you both some privacy before you parted ways for the day. Tyler hugged you, clinging to you like a little boy to his mother and you patted his back softly, running a hand through his dark hair. He looks at you and kisses your nose, smiling at you, a genuine, happy smile before waving you goodbye; “Good night mi amor, stay safe alright?” He says making you chuckle; “I’m not going anywhere Ty don’t worry nothing will happen to me, i’ll text you if anything happens yeah?” You reassure and he nods, walking out the door. You watch them leave before closing the door and run to your bedroom, laying down on your bed and kick your feet like a mad woman. You finally had someone that loved you, cared for you. Love really was a great feeling.

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[anacdoce]

I Wish Chapter 5 - In a heartbeat

Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader, implied sorcerer)

Rating: M

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: a very angst chapter; hurt; self-sacrifice; death. Maybe you'll want to read this in a safe place :')

Summary: You have made your choice, and there's no turning back now. You'll give Astarion his cure. Even if it costs your life.

a/n: Once again my thanks to @bloodlessdarling for her screeshots. They're perfect! <3

First, let me apologize for the gap of time between the last chapter and this one. I know some of you have been eagerly waiting for a while.

Second, let me say that this wasn't an easy chapter to write. Even if it doesn't seem like it, I love Astarion from the bottom of my heart and all I want is his happiness, I promise.

Stay with me on this, will you? <3

Read on oa3

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Astarion paces through the house. Impatient. Angry. Nervous. The more he thinks about what happened, the more he realizes he could have acted differently. Becoming mortal again had always been his secret and deepest desire. How could he refuse such an offer? But not like this. Not with the possibility of sacrificing his greatest treasure. You. 

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath. “I should have discussed this with you. I should have talked.” Regret claws at him. Maybe together you could have found a better solution. Or perhaps he could have made you see reason. Why would you sacrifice your life for him? For him? “Oh my love…” He gasps, the weight of his realization pressing down on him.

He has his armor on and eagerly waits for the sun to set. “Why did you have to do this? You’re a very stubborn woman! But I should have known better. This is on me.” His voice rises to a shout, echoing through the empty house. There’s no one there to listen and he’s trying to release the unbearable tension from him, but nothing is helping. And the waiting… oh, the waiting is making him become more and more anxious. With each passing second, you slip further away, and he doesn’t even know where to start looking. “Stupid! How could I be so stupid? Why didn’t I look at that cursed journal?! Because you’re stubborn too, Astarion.” He mimics your high-pitched voice, waving his hands in the air. 

He collapses into a kitchen chair, elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands. Why did Gale have to find such a thing? Why did he tell you about it in the first place? Because it was obvious what you were going to do. And yet Astarion didn’t think you could go against his will. 

“How did I not foresee this?” Astarion growls, clenching his teeth, angry in his voice. He replayed the past days in his mind, searching for clues. He remembers how strangely you were acting, a bit distant, actually. He assumed you were sad because he chose to ignore the scroll subject. Then he remembers last night, how you wanted to be close to him so badly all the time, how he felt your heart rushing when he bit you, and how you asked him to keep drinking your blood even when you were close to your limit. “You were saying goodbye…” The recognition hits him like a blow. For a moment he stands there, staring at the floor, with nothing but the noise of the cicadas outside to keep him company. “Aaahhhh!” He springs up from the chair with a snap, screaming, and in his anger, flips the kitchen table over the floor.

He slowly walks backward until his back hits the wall, letting himself slide down through it, crumbling on the floor next. His heart aches deeply, because he knows your love for him is true and he's about to lose you for that same reason. He wants to cry, give in to the fear and just cry. But he can’t. That is not an option. He has to be strong and fight for you. He tilts his head back, gazing at the ceiling, then shifts his focus to the window. The sun is nearly set.

“I haven’t lost you yet. There’s still time. Maybe I can reach you before you do something stupid. And that wretched Gale will help me. He knows where you’re going. He will lead me to you, my love.” He hopes Gale is still in the city, he knows that you talked to him just a few days before.

With a plan forming in his mind, Astarion shakes off his fears and starts to prepare to leave. The clock is ticking, and time is not on his side. 

—

When Astarion reaches Baldur’s Gate, he heads straight to the Elfsong searching for Gale. He sneaks past to the rooms, not wanting to be announced, and he finds Gale’s room easily by the smell. Lockpicking the door, he enters just to find it empty. Gale is not around. His bags are packed, he’ll be returning to Waterdeep soon. “Just in time.” Astarion whispers. He closes the door, and sits on a sofa in the darkest corner of the room, waiting.

A long while later, Astarion hears some movement in the corridor outside. It’s Gale. He opens the door, whistling. The night seems to have been pleasant for him. 

Astarion waits a little longer, letting him enter, and when Gale is about to take off his robes he says in a harsh voice, “I could have killed you if I wanted. And let me tell you, I don’t lack the desire.” 

Gale trips on the carpet in front of the bed, startled. He looks around the room searching until he sees some red glittering eyes enveloped in shadows, staring at him. “By the Gods! Astarion?! What are you doing here? In the dark?”

“The shadows don’t frighten me.”

Gale starts to light some candles, illuminating the room. Astarion remains in the same position, sitting with his crossed legs, staring at Gale like he is some sort of prey. “Well, I’m not afraid either. But this is my room and I wasn’t expecting any visitors.” Gale is feeling the discomfort under Astarion’s gaze. “Care to explain why you’re here? Where is (Y/N)?”

“You know, that’s a question I’d like to ask you myself.” He replies, without ever breaking eye contact with Gale.

The wizard feels the pressure. Something is wrong. “What are you trying to tell me, Astarion?”

“Such an intelligent creature as yourself can’t figure that out? How disappointing.” He pauses. Then he lifts and walks towards Gale, his face intimidating as it can be. When he reaches the wizard, he gives him the letter, your letter. “Here. Illuminate your mind.”

Gale holds the letter, recognizing your handwriting in it. “What is this?” He asks, already afraid of the answer.

“That, Gale, is her doom.” Astarion turns his back to him and walks to the window, where he can see the bustling streets of the city.

Gale starts to read the letter, and when he finishes it he looks to Astarion, incredulous. “She could not… I told her this was something she couldn’t do alone!”

“Do you not know her?! She was always ready to sacrifice herself to save your asses!” Astarion turns to him again, shouting, almost spitting with anger. “She has fallen for us over and over again! What do you think she was going to do?!”

“She told me the conversation with you didn’t go well, and she was going to drop this. I never thought…”

“You never thought?!” Astarion’s fists clenched, knuckles turning white. “Why didn’t you talk to me first? Before infecting her mind with such tales? This was about me! You should have asked me if I wanted it!”

“I knew that the possibilities of your acceptance on this matter were minimal.”

“You knew? And nonetheless, you told her.” 

“I did. She would have wanted me to. Astarion… tell me… if by any chance you could be gifted with your mortality again without any other conditions implied to it, would you accept it?”

“We’re not talking about what I want!” Astarion screams, menacingly showing his fangs.

“But we are. All of this predicament is precisely about what you want. And you just told me that I should have asked you first if you wanted it. So, would you have accepted it or not?”

“I would.” Astarions’s voice, low, shattered.

“She knew that too. I am sure if she had any doubt this was something you didn’t want, she would have forgotten it. But she also knew you would never choose this over her…” Gale approaches Astarion carefully.

“She had no right to choose for me.” 

“Maybe. And maybe she couldn’t live with the thought that she could have offered you your cure, but you refused that to her.”

“There could have been another way.” 

“You had given up on those, remember? Astarion… I’m sorry. I didn’t want any of this to happen.” Gale says with some anguish in his voice.

Astarion shoves Gale and turns around, walking away from him. “If she dies, I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Silence falls between them. Gale lowers his head, feeling the guilt of his actions. 

Astarion keeps his back turned to Gale. He can’t stand to look at him right now. He needs to keep control of his emotions. He needs to be cold and controlled again. But all he can feel is despair. And he can’t give in to that. Because nothing is lost. Not yet.

Love can give you so much. But it can shatter you in a million pieces too. Nonetheless, he is resolved to put himself together. He will have you back. 

Astarion takes a deep breath and, without turning to Gale, asks, “I believe that you know where she’s heading?”

“You didn’t even read the journal?!” But Astarion doesn’t answer, waiting for Gale to continue. “Yes… I know where she’s going. We can take a portal to Waterdeep and maybe gain some time doing just that. There we can discuss our next steps better.”

“You have half an hour. Gather your things. You will help me find her. This is as much your fault as it is mine.” And with no further words he leaves the room. He needs to get some fresh air. He needs to recover. 

Already outside, Astarion looks up to the starlit sky, to the very same starlit sky that had bound him to you some months ago. And he keeps staring at it, thinking of you, hoping you are doing the same somewhere, trying to be close to you in some way.

—

Laying on your bedroll, you gaze up at the beautiful stars in the sky. Your mind drifts to your own star, to the one you left behind. Your hand clutches your chest as if to ease the pain. You miss him so much. “Astarion…” You whisper his name, longing for him at your side. 

Several days have passed since you left home, and you finally decided to camp somewhere in a forest. You need to rest. You're weary and you haven’t slept much. Astarion’s last bite session has left you weakened, and your lack of rest isn’t helping. 

You’ve been pushing yourself to keep going, because you know Astarion is looking for you. For sure he went to Gale to ask him for help, so you have to take advantage of the time you have gained. Astarion can’t pursue you during the day, and you have made the effort to walk during the day and part of the nights too. But you can’t keep doing that any longer. 

Gale’s words are haunting your mind: “You have to be at your best.” And clearly, this is not your best. So, you decided to slow down a little. Have some good sleep. Recover. According to the journal descriptions you’re getting close - just a few days more and you’ll reach the place marked on the map Gale gave you. One more reason to regain some strength.

Every day since you left Astarion, you wonder if this was the right decision. And for some time now, you’ve been asking yourself the same question, over and over again: if you survive this, will Astarion be able to forgive you? Will he be able to trust you again? Because you defied him. You defied his will.

“If he can’t forgive me, I’ll have to accept that. This was my choice. I chose to sacrifice everything for him. And if with that he can live free from his curse, it will be worth it.” You hold your shirt, his shirt, by the cleavage and bring it to your nose, so you can smell him. It 's still there. His fragrance. Curling into a fetal position, you fall asleep with his perfume as your only comfort.

—

The day after reaching Waterdeep, Astarion and Gale had everything prepared to leave for the hunt. Gale gathered the most detailed possible maps of the region, in the short time they had, to make their choices easier along the way. And as soon as the night fell they got on their way.

During the first nights together, Gale made sure to tell Astarion everything he knew about the scroll, and the more he learned, the more his mood grew darker. Nothing in that story was good. Nothing in that story indicated a chance of success. For the next few nights all that was between them was silence. A deep and heavy silence. 

One day, after finding a sort of cave to rest and to keep Astarion protected from the sunlight, Gale is eating a snack, while Astarion is preparing his bedroll on the floor when Gale breaks the silence. “What are you going to do when we find her?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?” Astarion sits on his bedroll, embracing his knees.

“Obviously, you’re hurt. She defied you. And I was just wondering if you’ll be able to forgive her.” 

Astarion sighs, letting his head collapse in his arms above his knees. “Gale, I just want to have her in my arms again.”

“So, will you? Forgive her?”

“Forgive what? Forgive her for wanting to cure me from this bloody curse of mine?” Astarion lifts his head again. His voice is rising, and he feels some tears watering his eyes as he looks at Gale. He's so angry, but not with you, with himself. “Forgive her for showing me, once again, how much she's willing to sacrifice because she loves me more than anything?” 

Astarion senses that Gale is trying to find the right words to say, but he doesn't want to hear them. “I don't need your sympathy on this. I just want your help to find her.” 

“I know you don’t. But I’m worried all the same. I’m worried for you, and for her. I’m responsible for what’s happening. But I never wanted any of this. I feel guilty, and I deserve to be. I don’t need your forgiveness on this matter, but I need you to forgive her. She’s not the one to blame.”

“Yes, this is your fault, we can agree on that.” 

“I can live with that. What I can’t live with is seeing her with a broken heart after all this. You’re not the only one who cares for her…” Gale lowers his voice, looking to his hands, evading Astarion’s stare. Sadness in his eyes.

“I know how you feel about her. I always knew. In the beginning I never thought I could compete with such a refined man like you. But she chose me… me. And now I’ve let her slip through my fingers.” Astarion raises his hands, staring at his palms with his long fingers standing open in front of his face. In that moment the tears that were trapped in his eyes moments before, started to fall through his cheeks. He can’t stand the thought to be without you. It hurts. After all you’ve been through… He covers his eyes with his palms and pulls his silver curls with his fingers, fighting, once again, to maintain control. “If she had chosen you, she would be safe right now. But she had to choose me…”  

“I could never have offered her what you can. You make her smile like I never could. You give her more than you can imagine. You have to believe in yourself and in her. We have to trust she'll make it through this and you'll have a long life by her side, to prove yourself how worthy you are of her love, Astarion.”

A long life with you. That’s all he ever wanted. 

He lets his tired body fall in the bedroll, his back turned to Gale. “I think I’ve never felt so afraid. Not even with Cazador, because all he had done was to take. But she… she gave me everything.” His lips, trembling. “I’m afraid, Gale.” He feels his stomach flip at his confession. 

Gale takes some deep breaths before speaking again. “So am I, Astarion. So am I.”

—

The fog is thickening. For five days now all you see around you is fog. You wasted two days running around in circles trying to find the place where the scroll is hidden with no success, and the other three were spent retracing your steps, desperately seeking the right path. 

At the end of the sixth day, while searching for a spot to rest after a tiring day, you find an old ruin which looks like some kind of a tomb, surrounded by dead trees. It feels eerily familiar to you. You know this place. Your eyes are wide open and you frantically search your journal. You flip the pages one after the other, until you find it. This is it. This is the place. You feel your heart racing in your chest. There is no turning back. You're there. 

You approach the entrance of the ruin cautiously, studying the surroundings. That’s when you spot a death shepherd pacing inside. “That’s fine… I was expecting something like this. I just have to sneak around. The fog will help me.” You whisper, changing direction to circle the ruin.

You walk around it, trying to find another entrance. Two other possibilities were guarded too, and you continue searching, until you find a hole in a wall where you can fit. After making sure no one is on the other side to surprise you, you crawl through the hole to find yourself inside the tomb. Endless skeletons on the floor, equipped with swords and bows. “I can’t declare myself, or it will be the end of me…” 

Without moving you take a look around. It’s a round dark room, walls of stone, roots of dead trees breaking through the ground, and in the middle of it three steps lead to an altar where in it lies a scroll. The scroll. You feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skips for a moment, while you listen to the steps of the death shepherds in the room next to you. 

It looks simple. You can walk there, grab the scroll and leave. But nothing is so simple as it seems. So, you try to find the catch, somewhere. You walk slowly and silently, minding the skeletons on the floor, always alert at your surroundings. And you reach the altar without setbacks. You step on the stairs, one by one, closer and closer to the one thing that you most desire. The chance to give Astarion a possibility to live without his curse, giving him peace. 

When you realize you are next to the altar, hypnotized, looking at the rolled up piece of paper in front of you. And for a moment you stand there, at a palms reach of fulfilling your demand. Then you shake your head, trying to focus. You could daydream after getting out of there. You look for traps, but you can’t find any. And without further thinking you hold the scroll and take it.

Click!

“Shit.” When you lifted the scroll you triggered a trap, it was hidden by it and you couldn’t perceive it. In that moment a circle of necrotic magic surrounds you, spreading the effect to the majority of the room, leaving only the place where the altar stands untouched. At the same time some of the skeletons lying on the floor rise up ready to fight you to the death. Three death shepherds appear, standing at the entrance of the room, and you know that there lies your doom. They are out of reach for your spells, and even if you could kill some of the skeletons, the death shepherds will keep rising more and more after. 

You can’t flee either, because your misty step can’t reach the end of the necrotic aura that surrounds the room, and if you walk through it, it will drain your life and you’ll drop dead without even putting up a fight.

While you’re trying to master the panic that invades your body an arrow passes next to the left side of your face, kissing your cheek and earlobe as it flies over you. You scream in pain feeling the sharpening sting of the arrow kiss. A warm fluid runs down your neck staining your robes on the shoulder. You throw your hand to your neck just to see it painted with your blood moments after.

It’s time to fight. The odds are not in your favor, but you have to try. There is no other way. “Gale was right. I shouldn’t have come alone. But I won’t lower my arms now! You can take me, but it won’t be an easy task!” You shout, casting a call lightning and with that taking out some of the skeletons that were approaching you. 

You try to manage your spells the best as you can, but for every skeleton that you take out, the death shepherds rise tree more. But you keep fighting, trying to keep the skeletons away from you and evading the arrows that keep flying in your direction.

Suddenly, two skeletons reach you by the back and one of them hits you with his sword on your right flank, making you fall to the ground and losing the concentration on your spell. They leap on you trying to take advantage of your position, and they strike you again and again. You try to protect yourself the best as you can, but you are getting tired, and you feel the puddle of blood, your blood, growing beneath you. You need to take them off of you. A thunderwave is the solution. You cast it and the skeletons drop dead some meters away from you. 

You get on your feet with some effort, and there are more coming to you. In your anger you cast chain lightning, buying you more time. You take a healing potion from your pocket, but when you are about to drink it you stop. You look at the flask for a moment and then you put it back in your pocket. There is no point in healing. Your spell slots are almost over. You can’t fight them much longer. And you still have one special scroll to read. 

Resolved on what you must do, you give them all you have left. You’ll destroy as many skeletons as you can, providing you the time to read the scroll and make your wish, and after that your fight is done. And you can let go.

—

Astarion is hiding, crouched behind a dead tree, trying to see what lies inside the tomb ruin, while Gale is trying to confirm on his map if this is the place they're looking for.

He’s been feeling a little unsettled today. His ring has been burning his skin for quite some time now, and that can’t be a good sign. Suddenly, a gust of wind blows in their direction, and Astarion can smell a familiar scent in the air. His eyes widening in terror. “This is the place. She's here. And she's hurt.” His voice, trembling with fear.

“How do you know?” Gale asks, looking everywhere trying to figure that out.

“I can smell her blood.” With a snarl of rage, Astarion dashes through the ruin’s entrance. He doesn’t care who is inside or what is happening. He just wants to make sure that you're alive and they make it in time. 

Gale runs behind him, trying to catch him, and as soon as they enter the tomb they hear a really loud noise of ice falling from above and breaking on the floor, making the ground shake beneath their feets. “It’s her, all right. This was her doing.” Gale confirms it.

At that instant they hear you scream, a cry so raw and agonized that Astarion can feel his heart break with it. Every part of his body shivers by the fury that consumes him. He growls like a beast in response, showing his fangs with anger, and charging from where the noise came.

As the death shepherds turn around to face Astarion he's already there, leaping with his daggers in position to strike one of them. He jumps so high that when he lands, his feet are on the death shepherd's waist. He takes advantage of his proximity with its head and crosses his daggers around it, decapitating him in a swift movement, roaring in his fury.

As the lifeless body crumples at his side, Astarion takes a brief moment to survey the room, trying to find you. That’s when he spots you, in the middle of it, next to the altar, kneeling on the floor, covered in blood, holding an arrow well buried in your belly. “Astarion!” He hears you calling in a faint voice, pointing to his side.

A great sword is falling in his direction, and he dodges just in time. The blade hits the floor beside him, giving Astarion the opportunity to attack back. He pierces his daggers into the armpit of his enemy’s armor, a perfect weak spot to take some damage. 

The death shepherd tries to respond, but his armor and his long sword makes him slow for Astarion’s swift movements, so he escapes once again, swirling behind its back, like a dance, jabbing his daggers on its thigh on the other side. With this strike the undead loses the strength on its legs, falling on its knees on the floor.

“Take cover!” Gale shouts from behind. 

Astarion moves away from his foe at Gale’s warning, and a fire ball explodes right next to him, taking down the two remaining death shepherds. 

“Don’t touch that necrotic cloud! It will kill you!” Gale shouts to Astarion as he's preparing to run to you.

“It was a trap… I triggered it.” You manage to say from afar.

“There must be some kind of mechanism to disarm it. Try to find it. I’ll handle the skeletons.” And with that Gale starts to bring the destruction to the remaining undead in the tomb.

Astarion sprints around the walls of the room, trying his best to concentrate on his task, but the smell of your blood is all around him and your heartbeat is fading. And the ring! The ring is getting hotter and hotter. Hells! Why can’t I find anything?! 

He doesn’t care how Gale is fairing with your foes, Astarion is focused on finding a way to get to you. Only that matters now.

By the second time he passes through the door he finds it, a small metallic device, near the floor. “That must be it.” He crouches and starts to disarm it, but he fails. His hands are shaking, making it a difficult task to hold the disarming tool. He tries again, and again he fails. “Shit! I can’t do it! I can’t control my fucking hands!” He snarls in frustration.

“You can. You have to. She 's there. And she needs help.” Gale reaches Astarion after killing the rest of the skeletons in the room. His face is grave.

Astarion looks at you again, and you smile at him. A brief small smile tugging in the corner of your mouth. She's bleeding to death, and yet she's smiling at me. Pull yourself together Astarion! She needs you. With that thought he turns to the trap again, takes a deep breath and tries once again to disarm it. And finally, his dexterous fingers destroy the trap, and the necrotic aura around the room vanishes.

In that moment Astarion flies to you, but freezes in the same instant. Panic courses through his body. You're holding the scroll, opened. “My dear, what are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what no one else could.” Your voice, barely audible.

“Darling, put that aside, will you? We can discuss this later… you’re weak, you need attention. Let's heal you first, hum?” He slowly walks to you, step by step, trying desperately to control his fear.

“You will never let me, Astarion. You made that clear.” You cough up blood, a pained whimper escaping your lips.

The puddle of blood is growing beneath you, and Astarion feels your heart weakening by the minute. “I know… I’m sorry, my love. I’m a prick. I should have listened to you… I want it, you know I do. I just don’t want you to risk your life for it. It isn't worth it.”

“But you are wrong. You are worth everything. I love you, Astarion.” You give him the biggest tender smile that he remembers. Your hands raise the scroll, firmly, to the level of your eyes.

“No, no, Darling! Please… Listen!” He pleads, reaching the first step of the altar.

“I wish…” And you whisper your wish to the scroll.

“FUCK!! Stop it! Don’t say another word! Please, Love…” Astarion screams in anguish. 

But it’s too late. The spell is done. As you speak the last word, an aura of bright magic envelops your body, throwing your arms behind you, and you tilt your head upwards, with your mouth open. The spell is consuming you.

At the same time the ring is burning like hells in Astarion’s finger and he urgently wants to take it off. But he can’t. It's stuck. He's fighting to manage his pain and he's fighting to reach you, but none of that seems to be working. The magic aura is too strong, he can't approach you and the pain is too unbearable, clouding his thoughts.

But as soon as it happened, it soon ended. The aura vanishes, and Astarion hears you taking a deep sigh, before falling to the ground, unconscious. In that moment, the burning on his finger is gone, and the ring is as cold as if it had never been hot, but he feels a little vibration on it, very subtle, but present. 

“Gods…” Gale gasps from behind, stuck to the floor, not knowing what to do.

For a moment there was only silence. Astarion crawls to you in despair, when he feels something. A deep sting in his heart. He holds his chest, and afterwards comes the pain, an incapacitating pain. He curls up on the floor, screaming. All his body is hurting. So much pain… What’s happening to me?! 

He spasms his legs, then his arms. His eyes, burning, he can’t see a thing. All is blur around him. And he coughs again and again, because his lungs need the air that was missing. And his body keeps convulsing. Because his heart needs to pump all the blood that was lacking. 

Two hundred years of an undead body returning to life. 

Gale leans to him, worried but fascinated at the same time. “Astarion! She did it! It’s happening!”

By the Hells! I know it’s happening! I can feel it! 

He screams in agony for a long time until his body is ready to be reborn. 

When the pain stops he stays on the floor sensing the numbness of what had happened. He feels the need of breathing well present in him and he almost choke, like he doesn’t know how to breathe anymore.

By his side is Gale, gazing at him, like he's a miracle to behold. “I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing…” He reaches a hand to Astarion, slowly, but he snaps it away sharply.

“Don’t touch me!” He manages to speak. Seconds after Astarion gets startled by a deep beating in his chest. His heart, his own heart is beating again. Never he thought how he missed the feeling of his beating heart. That steady drum inside his chest, pumping life. But… and yours? Where is that familiar sound he's so used to? He can’t hear your heart any longer. 

Panicking, he crawls to you again, clumsy, still feeling the numbness on his body. When he reaches you he sits by your side, and he runs your wounds with his hands trying to stop the bleeding. “Darling, please, wake up. Open your eyes! You did it! I’m here.” He begs, but you stay lifelessly on the floor. 

Astarion feels Gale’s presence behind him and growls: “Do something! Do your spells! Heal her!”

“I think she's far beyond that, Astarion… She needs another kind of healing. Her wounds are too deep, and she lost a lot of blood. I don’t have the means to treat her.”

“I don’t care! Do it!” He commands, once again.

Gale does what he's told and he casts a healing spell on you. But Astarion still can’t hear anything, no beating, nothing. 

He holds your head, and gently places it on his lap. With his trembling fingers he removes a bloodied strain of hair from your face, and admires how beautiful you are. So peaceful in your rest… Tears starting to fall. All the tears retained for days, fighting to get out at the same time. “My sweet… don’t leave me. Don’t go where I can’t follow.” He begs you, sobbing. “We still have so much to live. I can’t… I can’t… I need you…” 

Astarion rests his forehead on yours, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. His tears, running down through your face, mingling with your blood. “She’s dead… My love is no more.”

I'm sorry 😭

Thank you so much for reading my story. Likes, reblogs and comments are very welcomed!

Love you all! 🖤

[fear-is-truth]

please do some winter anderson and her girlfriend headcanons

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘 — winter anderson

pairing — winter anderson x f!reader﹒headcanons﹒fluff﹒tiny bit of angst

a/n: she’s literally my girlfriend

winter takes the lead in your relationship, but her dominance is always soft and nurturing. her brother has always been the dominant force in her life, controlling her actions and decisions, which leaves her feeling powerless. but with you, winter craves a taste of control in a way that feels empowering, not suffocating.

she seeks out a different dynamic with you, one where she feels safe and respected. she wants to experience a relationship where she has control, but also where both of you feel seen and heard. with you, she finds comfort in knowing she can be the stronger one while still being vulnerable.

her personality can be described as cat-like. sometimes, she’s cold and distant, curling up on the couch with scrolling through her phone, not wanting to talk. but deep down, she’s completely touch-starved. the moment you gently coax her into a hug or brush your fingers through her silvery hair, she melts.

after having sex, she breaks down and cries. of course she tries to hold it in, but the emotional intensity of finally feeling loved and safe overwhelms her. she’s not used to being cared for in such a tender way, and the release of emotions always brings her to tears. you hold her through it, brushing your fingers through her hair, and she clings to you like you’re her lifeline. she apologises profusely, but you reassure her that it’s okay to feel.

though winter tries to act confident in the relationship, she’s deeply insecure. she’s afraid that her brother’s influence and the bad things she’s done has broken her beyond repair, and sometimes she wonders if she’s worthy of your love. she’ll ask questions like, “why do you stay with me?” or “don’t you think you could do better?” you constantly remind her that she’s more than enough, but she struggles to believe it.

doesn’t ask for physical affection outright, but she craves it desperately. when you’re together, she’ll casually rest her hand on your leg or lean into your shoulder. if you initiate a hug, she immediately melts, her ice-queen façade fading as she buries herself into your warmth.

has a fierce protective streak when it comes to you. she doesn’t let anyone talk down to or hurt you, even kai. while she might not be able to stand up to him for herself, she becomes more assertive when it’s about your well-being.

winter is fiercely protective of you, especially when it comes to her brother. she’s terrified that he’ll pull you into his cult or try to manipulate you the way he manipulates her. constantly warns you to stay away from him and his “cause,” and you can see the fear in her eyes when she talks about it. the thought of losing you to kai haunts her, and she’ll do whatever it takes to shield you from his influence.

has an almost irrational fear of losing you. with everything in her life being so dysfunctional and chaotic—thanks to her parents and two fucked-up older brothers—she clings to the one constant source of peace: you. she’s terrified that kai or the cult will rip you away from her, and the thought of it makes her more protective and anxious, always making sure you’re safe when you’re not together.

often acts like she doesn’t need your affection, pretending to be indifferent. but when you’re busy or distracted, she’ll sulk, pout or subtly try to get your attention by leaning against you or making snarky comments. she won’t ask for it, but when you finally notice and give her the love she wants, she immediately lights up, even if she tries to hide her tiny smirk.

not a morning person, but she loves waking up next to you. she’ll pretend to be annoyed when you wake her up, but the truth is, she loves the way you softly stroke her hair or kiss her cheek in the mornings.

has a thing for playing with your hair. whether it’s braiding it, brushing it, dying it or just running her fingers through it while you’re talking, it calms her.

shows her affection by gifting you with small things she thinks you’ll like—a pretty bracelet, a vinyl record, or a specific nail polish. she never makes a big deal about it; she’ll just leave the items somewhere she knows you’ll find them, like a cat dropping off gifts for its owner.

she can get a little jealous, but she never admits it outright. instead, she’ll get clingy when she notices someone else flirting with you. she’ll make scathing remarks and shoot glares at anyone who seems too interested in you.

[lliminall]

(Yan) “Chrollo, why were you crying before? ….Are you alright?”

tags: gn reader, yandere, chrollo being big sad and a little bit unhinged

In the dark shadow of the room, you could almost convince yourself that Chrollo is praying as he glances up at you. Sat hunched on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands folded against his forehead as his dark eyes open to meet yours. It would be a funny thought, if it wasn’t so unsettling to see a man of his composure unraveling before you.

For a moment he says nothing, and you wonder if you shouldn’t have said anything about it at all. If you should have stayed in the bathroom and pretended to busy yourself in the shower for another half hour. It feels almost violative to witness him in this state. Your hand itches to flip the switch of the bathroom light, plunge the room into darkness and wipe the image of that expression from your mind.

Chrollo stands and crosses the room in just a few short steps. His hands find rest on the curves of your cheeks, thumbs meandering along the lines of your face.

“I’ve lost someone very important to me,” he says. “Someone I should have been able to protect.”

His eyes are sad, too sad for a man of his kind. It’s wrong on his face, wrong on his body, for someone who’s caused so much grief to be crumbling under the weight of it himself.

“One of your friends again?” you ask.

“Yes,” Chrollo answers with a sad smile. “One of my oldest friends. And there is someone on this boat who is determined to take more from me.”

Your stomach churns nauseatingly. You aren’t sure if it’s the motion of the sea or the man in front of you causing it. Chrollo pulls you into his body, pressing his forehead against yours. He looks at you like he wants to absorb you through his skin. Catalog every detail, every sight, sound, and touch of you in the library of his mind. It feels too much like he’s bracing to lose it. To lose you.

“I see now that I’ve been an idiot,” he says. “Arrogant. An arrogant fool. I didn’t understand how close I was to losing all of you.”

Nausea. Cold, creeping nausea. You want him to drop this unfamiliar act, to become the strong and unwavering force he has always been to you. He can’t be weak. He’s made himself into the only support you have, and he can’t be weak now.

Something sharpens in his gaze.

“But I won’t make the same mistake again. I’ve been weak before, in a long distant past. Did you know that?” He smiles at you as you shake your head. “No, and I won’t be again, now or any time in our future.”

His hands tighten around your face.

“I will be anything, become anything, do anything it takes to keep what belongs to me.”

Nausea. Nausea. Your hands press against his chest in a weak attempt to put space between yourself and this man you don’t recognize. He can’t be this now. Fraying at the ends. He has to be your only constant. Your strong and unbroken constant.

At the pressure on his chest, Chrollo seems to find himself again. The edge in his eyes softens and he’s looking at you again like you’re his favorite dog, shivering while the thunder rages just outside your shelter. Firm hands press your face into the warmth of his chest.

“Chrollo, please. You’re scaring me.” The tremble of your voice muffles into the fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t be afraid, love,” he says. “Nothing is going to to take you from me. And if he tries to—“ his breath catches with a wave of emotion. The fingers in your hair tighten.

The air around you becomes thick with something powerful and suffocating, something cold and cruel that makes your joints lock and skin prickle. It fades as quickly as it comes, and Chrollo breathes slowly, deeply beside you. His hand caresses your hair in slow strokes, an imitation of comfort that does more to ground himself than to sooth you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t cause you to worry about this.” Warm lips press into the crown of your head before he tugs you away from his body to look into your eyes. “You’re safe with me. You always are.”

There’s a knock on the door. He leaves you to turn and pluck his coat from the bed, taking the warmth of his body with him, and you are left standing in the chill of the room with cold skin and damp hair.

“I’ll only be gone a moment,” he says. “Dry yourself off quickly. We’ll be moving rooms again tonight.”

He steps into the hallway where another voice greets him, and the door clicks shut behind him.

Your hair is dripping onto the tile beneath your feet. Chrollo’s voice fades into the depths of the hallway, further, further, until it’s gone.

You lock the door with shaking hands.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Leviathan, Riddle & Idia - Past Cheater Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Here's a PSA from me; don't cheat on your partners. If you've fallen out of love with them, sit them down and talk to them about it and go from there. If you're doing it to hurt your partner, shame on you, you're an asshole. It's better to end the relationship than turning to infidelity. If you're unhappy break it off and focus on yourself for however long you need before looking for love again. (and yes, I did purposely write this in a way that would make some people feel guilty, because fuck cheaters) —Benny 🐰

                                                                                                   

🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡

🐠 Leviathan was shocked, confused, worried, and scared when he learned that you had cheated on your previous partners before. This poor demon already has such low self-worth; his mind whirled around with questions of whether you would cheat on him as well. He would try to tell himself you wouldn't, but he's just a loser otaku; of course, you'd leave him for someone else.

🐠 He'd lock himself in his bathroom and curl up in his tub thinking about how your relationship had been going since you started dating. How you acted around him and everyone else since you chose him and not his brothers, Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos or, Lord Diavolo. But what if he's not enough? He's so jealous. So envious. Leviathan loves you so much but he can't help but wish he never learned what you did in the past.

🐠 You'd end up having to force your way into his bathroom to have a talk with him because he would refuse to leave for an entire week; surviving on his snacks. It would take a long time to get him to stop thinking that you'd discard like trash him at any given moment. He'd be a lot quieter with you and a lot more possessive of your time. Leviathan would likely always distrust you a bit after this.

🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡•♡•🐡

"Y‐you— you wouldn't cheat on me... r‐right? I know I'm just a gross otaku... b‐but you love me right? Y‐you're my Henry... I don't want to believe... No— I‐I can't believe that you would betray me like that. You wouldn't. Or... a‐at least I hope not..."

🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹

👑 Oh dear. As soon as Riddle finds out you've been unfaithful to any of you're previous partners, your relationship begins to sour pretty fast. He'll avoid you for a few days after initially finding out. He'll straight up ignore you even; complete radio silence is all you'll get from him. But even after he stops avoiding you, he'll still be distant for a bit.

👑 The first words Riddle had said to you after days of silence was: "I thought you were different— that you were better than that...". He sat the two of you down and you both talked about it at length. Riddle expressed how he was now having trouble trusting you and how he felt insecure about the stability of your relationship. How; if you cheated on previous partners before, what's stopping you from cheating on him? He wondered if you loved him enough to stay faithful.

👑 It would take him a long time, but eventually, Riddle would come to accept that, even though you had cheated on a previous partner(s), you were with him now and things were different. He reluctantly put his heart into your hands and expected you— trusted you to hold it close and keep it safe and never break it. Trey will make sure of that.

🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹•♡•🌹

"How... could you have done something like that? It's... wrong. I— I don't know if I can trust you after hearing that... but I love you... I can tell that the you from before is different from the you standing here in front of me now... so, I'll give you a chance."

🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮

🎮 Idia would be at a loss for words. He's never had to deal with something like this before. It would be difficult for him to wrap his head around the fact that you, his selfless and kind boyfriend, would go out of your way to hurt someone just for fun. In fact, he wouldn't be able to wrap his head around it. Idia would just try and rationalize it instead, thinking that the cheating must have been warranted. (cheating is never warranted)

🎮 Idia wouldn't acknowledge it after that. Well— he would, but he would never let you know that. He was so lonely all the time before you came into his life; he can't lose you now. So he pushes it to the back of his mind and tries to please you instead. Convincing you to stay with him in exchange for him doing anything you want him to. He'll never say no, because he's scared you'll leave him for someone better.

🎮 When you catch on to the change you'll have to get Ortho to help you corner him and sit him down to talk. You'd have to admit that you were in the wrong and work incredibly hard to gain Idia's full trust again. But eventually, he'll loosen up. It won't be Idia who distrusts you after all this, it will be Ortho.

🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮•♡•🎮

"I‐I don't— I don't know what to say... I'm— I don't— Should we... break up then? I mean... I would leave me too... wait no I— I didn't mean that, please don't leave me. I trust you. I love you. Please stay."

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Maste‐rlists!

[moonlightazriel]

Fake it until you make it… /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: “hi! I hope you're having a great day. I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you might write an az x reader fic where the reader and he are kidnapped and stuff so they form a relationship to stay alive but then as they are freed Azriel acts all distant and stuff. idk just an idea?”

Warnings: A bit of angst, mentions of suicide and anxiety attack.

Word Count: 3K

Notes: Sorry this request took so long, but I change the storyline a bit and I love how it turned out.

Main Masterlist

Acting as the Spymaster was hard, but this was way harder, he held the female’s hand, even through the gloves he could feel how warm it was. He smiled, not very used to doing it in public, as they approached the table, Thesan smiled at them, but Azriel could feel how his mate, Caeda, would eye him, a hint of suspiciousness burned in his gaze.

“Thank you for having us, High Lord.” Her overly sweet voice sounded, and Azriel looked at her, her hair was in a bun, on the top of her head, and she wore a flowy skirt with a matching top, small jewellery adorned her ears and neck, her smooth skin smelled like vanilla.

If things were different, he could see himself falling for her, maybe asking her out, but being forced to act as her mate? He wondered how he was so blind to the obvious signals that something was wrong. He was sent to retrieve a very important artefact, the pendant would help Elain with her seer abilities, the task was simple, locate it, steal and take it back to the Night Court.

Things were too easy when he sneaked around the Dawn Court, the pendant was in between the High Lord’s personal belongings, and as he entered the safe that held the item, he was caught by her, Thesan’s personal guard. Azriel refused to answer why he was there, he refused to say anything, until she proposed to him.

“You stay here, posing as my mate, and I help you get the pendant.” He didn’t knew why she was helping him or how she knew why he was there, but Elain was his friend, and her visions were a disturbance for her, preventing her from sleep or even thinking coherently, she would just stay in a corner, watching a blank point in the wall and mumble random visions and prophecies.

So Azriel agreed, and now he was smiling to people and being shown around as Y/N’s mate, Thesan immediately welcomed him, suggesting a dinner together so he could learn about the two, and that’s what he was currently doing, sipping on his wine, chewing a piece of potato and pretending to be deeply in love with her.

“How was it?” Thesan asked, after swallowing a piece of roasted pig. “I can’t imagine being away from my mate like that.” Azriel nodded.

“It’s my personal hell, I miss her every day, sometimes I feel her scent lingering around me, and my heart almost breaks in my chest when I realise she’s not there.” He had read many romance novels, they were coming in hand for him, being useful now. “When I feel that wave in my chest, I know she misses me just as much.” He concluded and Thesan looked at them.

“That’s so beautiful, I’m so sorry things have to be this way.” He apologised and Y/N answered something before she changed the subject to random court duties.

He watched her as she talked, the way her lips moved, and the occasional scrunch of her nose, she would do this before she opened a smile, every time, without fail, when she smiled openly, like she was doing now as she listened to Caeda speak, a little dimple would appear in the corner of her mouth.

He was very observant, and in this past week he was able to learn so much about her as he slept on her couch. How she liked fresh coffee every morning, how she would look so serious doing her job, or how she would run to help someone whenever they needed. She had taken him to the city, he had seen her help so many people on the short walk around the street market, that he wondered how she wouldn’t get tired.

“Azriel, when do you plan to take my sister to meet your family?” Caeda asked and Azriel had to suppress the surprise on his face, he didn’t know they were siblings.

“Oh, as soon as she has some free time, you know she works a lot.” He hugged her side and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“I was actually planning on asking for some days off, to meet my brothers in law.” She joked, Azriel had to admit that she was a good actress, and an even better liar. The lies easily rolled off her tongue and he respected that.

“We can certainly take a look into that for you.” Thesan agreed and Caeda smirked to Azriel, something he didn’t like.

If they knew why he was truly there, he could be arrested and executed, or even worse, this could be a reason for the Dawn Court declaring war against Night, and after everything they’ve been through, they don’t need another war, especially one caused by him. So he held her in his arms as they said their goodbyes and followed her home.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I’m working on it.” She sipped on her daily coffee, a shirt hanging on her body and nothing else, Azriel tried to avert his eyes from the exposed skin of her thighs but it was kinda hard. “I don’t know why it was open that day, but that safe is protected by ancient magic, not even Caeda enters there without Thesan.” Azriel nodded.

Another week had passed by and he was still stuck there, and as much as he hated to admit, she was getting closer and closer to him, and he was allowing it, they would spend a few hours together, have meals together, acting like a real couple was starting to mess with his head, and he didn’t liked that.

Sometimes as they read together, she would sit really close to him, once she fell asleep on his shoulder, and he allowed himself to run his fingers through her soft locks, enjoying the comfort of her presence, and the feeling of peace that invaded his wild heart.

“I’m trying Azriel, you just have to trust me.” She promised and he watched as she walked away to her bedroom, hips swaying and a hint of a lace undergarment underneath that damned shirt.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You can’t do that!” Caeda spoke a little too loudly, and Y/N pushed her palm into his face, shutting his mouth.

“Do you want the whole castle to hear?” Her brother shoved her aside, and she hissed.

“No, but I won’t let you steal from Thesan.” He stomped his feet on the ground and she rolled her eyes.

“You were too young to remember Cae, how mom would walk around mumbling her visions, how they treated her like she was someone to be avoided, how they tried to get rid of her cuz being a seer is a curse. His friend needs help, and I’m willing to help.” Caeda looked at her, hurt laced his features as he remembered how people would look at their mom with disgust, choosing to walk away from her in fear.

“But why do that!? This could get you killed.” He protested once again, feeling the tears prick in the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t lose his sister.

“BECAUSE I COULDN’T HELP MOM!” She exploded, her voice echoing in the empty hallway. “She died because I couldn’t help her.”

“Y/N, it’s not your fault, no one blames you for that.” He tried to pull her close but she pushed him away, sending him stumbling backwards.

“Everyone did, including you.” She said, turning on her heels and winnowing away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel kept stirring the cake mixture as he heard a door closing with a loud noise, he was used to her winnowing home out of nowhere but something felt wrong, he could sense her distress from afar. Dropping everything he was doing, he walked to her door, knocking three times before he heard her sobs.

Worry filled him and he opened it, finding her curled in a corner, unable to breathe and crying, he felt desperate, as he kneeled down in front of her.

“Y/N, you have to breathe.” He begged but she ignored him, he grabbed her face, pulling her chin up and forcing her to look at him, her glassy eyes weren’t focused on him, on anything as the tears kept flowing and she gasped for air.

He scattered around his mind looking for something helpful, when he found it. Holding her face in between his hands, he pulled her close, kissing her lips, the salty taste of her tears filled his mouth, but she kissed him back, and slowly her breathing became even, and as he pulled apart, she was looking at him, breathing normally.

“How?” She asked, her voice raspy from crying.

“I read once that a kiss can make someone breathe better and go back to reality, when they’re distressed.” She watched him, her eyes slightly wide, and she took a deep breath.

She felt it, she grasped with her life to that thread, her heart pounding fast and head spinning, a voice inside her screamed the word “MATE!” to her, as soon as Azriel pulled away from her. She kept looking at him without knowing what to say! Should she tell him? Should she say anything at all?

“Do you want to talk?” He whispered and she nodded.

“I wanted to help you, help Elain, cuz my mom was also a seer.” She started and Azriel sat on the floor in front of her, massaging her hands, he didn’t care about his own, that brought him so much shame, at least not right now. “No one helped her, my father didn’t knew how, Caeda was a kid, and I was trying my best to get us going, she couldn’t work, and my father was underpaid for his services, so I had to go around and find any way to make money.”

“It must’ve been hard for you.” He said and she shook her head in agreement.

“It was, we tried to find potions or healers able to help her, we couldn’t count with the High Lord’s help cuz Thesan’s father wasn’t as good as him. People would cast her out, call her crazy, and treat her poorly for something she couldn’t control. One day, I was working in a rich family house, watching their kids and keeping the house organised. They paid well but they weren’t nice, so when I asked for the day off to take care of my mom, on a really bad episode, they refused.”

Azriel knew perfectly how she felt, it was how he felt all his life, trying to protect his mom from people who didn’t gave a fuck about them.

“So I went to work, but I didn’t know she was tired, she couldn’t take it anymore. I should’ve been there, I should have been watching her, but we also needed to eat. So she left the house, walked the whole day until she reached a beautiful ravine, and she jumped.” Azriel gasped in horror. “My father blamed me, and Caeda resented me for not being there. I still carry the way they would look at me in my memories, and this haunts me to this day, not being able to do anything.”

“How do you know about the pendant then?” Azriel dared to ask.

“When Caeda and Thesan met, they knew they’re mates, and they haven’t been separated since then, Caeda got me training and I became Thesan’s guard. In one of my studies I learned about it, and immediately knew where it was. When you finally told me about Elain, I understood. This is my redemption, the chance I have to prevent the same thing from happening again.” Azriel pulled her for a hug.

“Thank you for everything.” She nodded, and sought comfort in her mate’s embrace.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Here you go.” She said, after another week, no explanation, no nothing, just the pendant hanging from her finger straight to his palm. He grabbed it and looked at her.

“Thank you very much.” She brushed him off.

“Just promise me you will write back.” He nodded, promising that he would, before he gathered his things and winnowed home.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel watched as another letter appeared on his desk, destined to him, from her. He grabbed the envelope and discarded it on a pile of other unopened letters. He needed time to process everything that had happened.

Elain was better, the pendant held her visions back and made her slowly get back to her normal self, everyone was happy and back to their lives, but why did his heart yearn for something? For someone?

He would wake up in his own apartment, it lacked the smell of fresh coffee every morning, it lacked the subtle fragrance of her vanilla smell, it lacked the nice flowers hanging from the ceiling, it lacked the nice family photos where she smiled so brightly, it lacked her personal belongings around the space, and most importantly, it lacked her, resting her elbows on the countertop, with a damned shirt covering her perfect body, slightly tighter in the shape of her breasts and reaching the middle of her thighs, and that fucking little vision of her undergarment whenever she walked back to her room.

He missed her, a lot, but this could never work, he would rather let her forget about him, than feeding hopes of something more that would lead to more hurt and sadness in the end. So he shut those feelings for her and ignored that pull in his chest, not daring to dream of a life with her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I know what you did!” Thesan said, as he rose from his seat and headed to the door, inviting her in. They sat in the lounge area of his office, a soft breeze filled the room. He looked at her, really seeing her, the smile she always wore vanished, and she had bags under her eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” She didn’t see motives to try to deny, he knew and he would do whatever he wanted to her, he had that right as she stole from her own high lord.

“And I’m not mad, I didn’t know this pendant could do that, and if it’s helping someone, I’m glad it’s being used.” Thesan said and she looked at him, surprise marked her features. Thesan hadn’t seen her show another emotion other than sadness ever since a certain Shadowsinger went away. “But I need you to be honest with me, no more lies.”

“No more lies.” She agreed.

“Do you love him?” Thesan asked and she felt the tears gathering in her eyes and her chest heavy, exploring the thread between them, she nodded.

“He’s my mate, and ever since he went away, he pretends I don't exist. I sent letters and he didn't answer, I can’t simply go there without a reason.” She blurted and Thesan pulled a letter.

“Matters of the heart are a good reason to go to another court, go after him. I saw the way you looked at him, true love is so hard to find. Promise me that you will sort this out.” He begged, a stronger breeze filled the room.

“We just want you to be happy, my dear sister.” Caeda winnowed behind her, squeezing her shoulder, she turned around, hugging him with all the strength she had, then she hugged her High Lord.

“Thank you for this.” She winnowed home, preparing a small bag with some clothes and taking a long shower.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Rhys, I’m here!” Azriel shouted as he entered the hallway leading to Rhysand’s office. He opened the doors but it wasn’t Rhys standing there waiting for him, it was Y/N. His heart almost burst out of his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my letters, I needed to see if you were alright.” She shifted her weight from one foot to another.

“Why do you care? It’s not like we’re really mates.” He said, and a strong pull in his chest made him flinch, like his own soul was disagreeing with him.

“That’s what you don’t get yet, we’re mates, and I will wait for you my whole life, but I don’t think I can’t wait for you like that anymore, I don’t want to be apart from you Azriel.” He looked at her in shock, was he her mate?

“Y/N, please. Don’t make this hard.” He pointed to both of them. “This won’t ever work, we’re from different courts and we can’t stay together without failing our respective duties.” His heart was splitting in two in his chest, he wanted to touch her so badly.

“Here.” She handed him an opened letter, he removed it from the envelope and read the words, but his brain couldn’t make sense of them.

“What is this?”

“My dispensation.” She smiled at him. “Thesan fired me from my job so I could be free to be with my mate!” Azriel swallowed harshly.

“And do you want that?” He approached her, his unsure hands pulled her close, and he breathed in her scent, his racing thoughts immediately gone quiet, this felt so right.

“I miss you every day, sometimes I feel your scent lingering around me, and my heart almost breaks in my chest when I realise you’re not here.” She repeated his words to him, and he pulled her to a kiss, all those confusing feelings finally vanished, giving space to the blooming love in his heart, love for her. “ I want to be with you, discover the wonders of our bond together, I want to be there when it snaps for you too. I want to love you and be loved by you.”

“It would be my honour to have you by my side, I don’t know when it will happen, but I know I’m ready to be with you.” He rested his forehead against hers.

“The bond can wait, but this can’t!” She looked at his eyes. “I love you Azriel.”

“And I love you Y/N.” He said back, kissing her with more passion than the first time. His hand sneaked to her ass. “Let’s go home, you’ve been driving me insane with that pretty ass for weeks, I need to have a taste.” He said, already starting to scent her arousal.

“We have all the time in the world, Shadowsinger.” She smirked at him. And he winnowed them home. Where they belonged.

[spideystevie]

oo maybe 5 from the fluffy dialogue prompts w hangman?? ily -vinny

vinny my love <3 something possessed me and i blacked out and came to and saw i’d written almost 2k words. only a little insane. anyway i hope you like it!! [1.8k] @callsignsaturn | 5. "stay as long as you want"

It was sunny when you’d first gone inside the Hard Deck. The sun shining almost unbearably bright that it had caused you to squint, sweat starting to bead up around your hairline.

Now, as you ready yourself to leave, it’s like the sun has disappeared. The sky was dark and murky and seemingly seconds away from cracking open and unleashing a flood. There’s a distant rumble of thunder in the clouds that makes you tense. 

“You better leave now if you wanna beat out the storm,” Penny says, passing you your card. You smile weakly at her and nod. You’re in the middle of digging out your wallet to put your card away when Jake ambles up to the bar to close his own tab. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Jake. That was the problem, you liked Jake a lot more than you probably should, much to the dismay of your best friend Bob. And as much as Bob hated to admit it, Jake liked you too.

And while both of those statements were true, neither of you had made any move to make anything official between you two. Sure, you’d gone on a couple of dates and kissed a few times and sure, maybe you’d almost slept with him but that was one time. And, okay, maybe he acted like your boyfriend when other people were around but that was it. 

You weren’t entirely blame-free. You knew you could ask him but you were stubborn and maybe a little bit prideful and you wanted him to do it first. And when he hadn’t, well, you were starting to get a little annoyed. You hurriedly shove your wallet into the front pocket of your jeans and push off the bar. 

“Thanks, Penny,” you call over your shoulder. You rush out the door, trying to hide against the wall while you waited for an Uber or maybe even Bob, though he’d left an hour ago, to come pick you up. The service you’re getting is less than satisfactory and you watch the homepage of the app load with no end in sight.

“Do you need a ride?” Jake’s voice startles you and the hand not holding your phone comes up to clutch the spot above your heart. He at least looks apologetic when you meet his eye.

“No, thank you, I’ll just take an Uber,” you say, looking back down at your phone. He tsks, causing you to look back at him with an eyebrow raised. You cross your arms over your chest, almost as a protective measure.

“C’mon, Bob would never let me live if he knew I let you take an Uber instead of giving you a ride and making sure you got home safe,” he says, only a little exasperated. Your arms fall to their sides as you grumble, knowing that he’s right. 

“Fine,” you sigh, shoving your phone in your pocket. “Lead the way.”

The drive to your house is quiet, save for the steady nervous beat of your heart and the rain that’s started to lash against the windows of his car. The windshield wipers are constant and squeak a little as they push the never ending rain off the glass. He drives slow, cautious, which you’re thankful for even if it extends the drive almost double.

He pulls up in front of your house and shifts the car into park. You stare at the windshield wipers swaying back and forth. It’s barely seven o’clock but it feels much later with the sun completely hidden beneath the haze of clouds and rain. 

You can hear him open his mouth to speak, a soft inhale. You beat him to it.

“Do you…want to come in?” you ask tentatively. He blinks at you and you start to stammer. “Just..just until the rain lets up! It’s probably not…safe for you to drive back to base in this.”

Slowly, he shrugs. “Okay.”

“Okay?” you repeat, almost shocked that he’d agree. Something of a smile crosses his face only briefly as he cuts the engine and pulls his keys from the ignition. He nods. 

“Yes, okay,” and then he’s opening his door and running out into the rain. You’re not as fast, your mind still reeling because he’s going to be in your house and not for predisposed reasons. He takes the extra minute to pull your door open for you and help you out of his car. His palm is warm against yours as you run the short distance to your front door. 

Jake seems to realize he’s still holding your hand when you pause to pull out your keys and he lets go almost like he’s been burned. His cheeks look a little pink but that could just be from the cold rain. You make quick work of the lock before ushering him inside ahead of you. 

Water drips from your hair and the hems of your clothes as you stand in your front entryway after toeing off your shoes. You stare at each other for a beat and you will yourself not to stare at the way his shirt is sticking to his chest. You wonder if he can hear you gulp. 

“Um, I’ll grab some towels,” you say, disappearing down a hall and around a corner. Jake’s focus turns to the few picture frames you have hung up by the door. There’s an old one of you with your family on some kind of vacation. The other one holds a much younger capture of you and Bob at his graduation from the Naval Academy. 

“I grabbed you a towel and then some old clothes Bob’s left behind that might fit and you can throw the ones you’ve got on in the dryer if that’s…” you trail off when you see him smiling at the photos on the wall. He looks over at you and taps a knuckle against the one of you and Bob. 

“Cute,” he muses and you think you'll explode with the amount of heat rising to your face. He steps towards you and you hastily hold out the towel and change of clothes. It’s then that he notices you’ve changed into pajamas of your own. When everything’s out of your hands you take a step back and clear your throat. 

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the left. Laundry room on the right,” you gesture with your finger and he nods, giving you one last look before heading that way. You don’t think you breathe until you hear the door click shut behind him. 

You’re not sure why you feel so nervous around him all of a sudden. He’d had his hands in your pants and lips against your neck not even two weeks ago and here you were, feeling like you’d fall over at any given moment. Granted, the two of you hadn’t exactly talked about what had happened then and you spent the last two weeks skirting around each other. But that's besides the point.

You try to steel yourself, breathing deeply before you head into the kitchen to try and find something you can cook for dinner. The whole thing feels so domestic. Jake, who, at this point, might as well be your boyfriend, changing in your bathroom while you’re in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. You’ve got enough heat on your face you think you could fry an egg with it. 

He comes in while you’re stirring the noodles for pasta. You turn to look at him, eyes soft when you catch sight of him in an old, tattered pair of plaid pajama pants and a black t-shirt. You turn back around before he can catch you staring. 

The rain still hasn’t let up by the time you’ve finished eating and cleaning up the kitchen. It’s a constant thrum against your windows, accompanied by the occasional flash of lightning somewhere a few miles off. You’re putting away the last plate when he clears his throat behind you. 

“I should probably get going,” he says. You close the cabinet and turn to look at him. The dryer still spins down the hall, the sound of your clothes tumbling around muffled by the closed laundry room door.

“I don’t think the rain’s gonna stop anytime soon,” you say, hinting around an invitation to stay longer. His eyes widen if only slightly. You shift on your feet. 

“You’d let me stay the night?” he asks, a little disbelieving. You stare at him, your arms crossed over your chest. The expression on your face is a little impassive, though he thinks there might be a smile shining in your eyes. 

“You can stay,” you swallow suddenly feeling a little shy, “as long as you want.”

You have a hard time meeting his eyes. There’s a shuffling of feet, the socks you lent him sliding against the flooring of your kitchen. When your toes nearly touch, he presses a finger under your chin and nudges your face up gently. You think he might be smirking when you look up at him but it’s softer than that. His dimple is showing and there are creases by his eyes. 

“I knew you liked me,” he says. You roll your eyes and purse your lips, willing yourself not to smile. You tilt your head and his finger leaves the underside of your chin, his palm coming to rest against your cheek. 

“Hmm…and what made you think that?” you tsk, furrowing your eyebrows. He shakes his head, his smile deepening around the edges and the sight of it pulls your smile out of you. His thumb brushes against your lower lip. 

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice lowering an octave making a slight shudder run down the length of your spine. Something between the two of you shifts, maybe for the better you hope as his face lowers to yours. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you but it almost feels like it is. 

His lips brush yours almost hesitant at first, a silent question of is this okay? that you answer by cupping his face and pulling him fully against you. Your heart seems to soar, a light exhale leaving you as you shift your hands to wrap your arms around his neck. 

He kisses you soft and slow, all languid give and take, like he has all the time in the world. Like his sole purpose in life is to kiss you like this forever. You wouldn’t mind, not in the slightest. You pull back, your chest pressing against his with each inhale you take and the tip of your nose brushing against the slope of his. 

[yandere-kokeshi]

What if Yan! 42! Miles Morale’s darling got capture? What would he do?

Warnings: yandere behavior and talks about blood and how people died.

A/N: this is such a good idea. Love your thinking anon ;]. Enjoy <33

The minute he saw the video, watching your body strapped to a chair with cries that were muffled behind the duct tape, your doe-eyes staring into the lens. He kept replaying the video, watching how you silently begged to be saved. The villain’s voice threatening you.

Miles lost all cool. His hands hit the wall, leaving a huge dent. His mind is a mess. Everything was scattered. Not organized and planned. Not even Uncle Aaron could calm him down. Everything in his way was either destroyed or thrown across the room, shattered into tiny pieces that were stomped on as he huffed out, leaving to get more info.

Coming to his senses, Miles’s plan will be elaborate, working with Uncle Aaron to figure out where you’re staying - his mind, finally clocking into revenge, focuses on finding the hidden location within a few hours.

Regardless of whether you were unharmed or not, the people who had the nerve to take you, are going to have a brutal and long-processing tortuous death.

Miles isn’t gonna be nice. Nor easy or harsh. He’s gonna be brutal. Fuckin’ brutal. Once breaking into the base, everyone involved is dead. Blood splattered all across the walls, floors, and ceiling. The sounds of breaking bones and screams are echoed. His footprints behind him followed, coated in bright redness.

His mind is unpredictable. All he cares about is finding you. And once he does? He’ll pull you into his arms, leaving the base with you as he focuses on your health - coming home to feed you, hydrate you, and hold your body as he’s finally relieved.

Miles will be distant for a bit, whilst trying to act his normal self. But you’ll notice. His voice is slightly softer, almost like he’s ready to break at any second. And he possibly did.

After this incident, he’s more prone to stay with and beside you - not leaving your side unless needed. He’s snapping at everyone, including his mother and Uncle Aaron. While he’s not blaming himself, Miles is taking every step of the way to ensure this doesn’t happen again.

He makes sure to have a tracker on you, whether on your clothes, undergarments, or under your skin, he needs to ensure you’re safe. He also makes sure to teach you self-defense, and likely asking Uncle Aaron to be beside you when he’s not present.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[bunnysnuff]

Chapter 4.

Pairing: Charlie spring x F!twin!Reader (siblings), Charlie spring x nick Nelson, nick Nelson x F!reader.

Trigger warnings: PLEASE READ!! Self-Harm, bullying, toxic relationships, jealousy and competition (siblings), & body image issues.

Masterlist:

—

Summary: Dear Charlie, we shared the same womb; I love you. I’m sorry.

The hum of the bus engine filled the space between Charlie and his sister as they sat side by side, staring out the window as the town blurred past. The early morning sunlight spilled in through the windows, casting soft shadows on the worn fabric of the seats. It was one of those mornings where neither of them felt like talking much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. At least, not yet.

Charlie shifted beside her, breaking the quiet. “You ever think about... what you actually want in a relationship?” His voice was soft, hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if he should even be asking.

She glanced at him, slightly surprised. Charlie didn’t usually bring up things like this, not since everything that had happened with his ex. He’d never mentioned him by name, but she knew. She knew how badly he had hurt Charlie, how toxic that relationship had been. How it had nearly destroyed him.

“I guess,” she replied, careful to keep her tone neutral, though her heart twinged a little. This was dangerous territory.

Charlie bit his lip, eyes still focused on the passing scenery. “I just... I don’t know. I thought I knew what I wanted back then. I thought if someone paid attention to me, if they acted like I was special, that it was enough. But... it wasn’t.” He let out a small, bitter laugh. “It was the opposite, actually. Being with him just made me feel worse about myself.”

She knew exactly who he was talking about. Ben Hope. He never said his name anymore, as if erasing him from memory might somehow erase the damage he’d done. But the scars were there, lingering beneath the surface. She could see it in the way Charlie flinched sometimes when people got too close, or in the rare moments when he looked at himself in the mirror for too long, his expression darkening. It was a wound that hadn’t fully healed.

“I get it,” she murmured, even though she wasn’t sure if she truly did. But she wanted to. Charlie’s pain was something she had watched from the sidelines, unable to stop it, unable to protect him from the hurt that had spiraled into something much worse.

There had been days when she would find him in his room, quiet, too quiet, and she’d know something was wrong. The razor-thin scars on his wrists, the way he avoided meals, the nights she’d stay awake because she was terrified of what he might do when he was alone. Charlie had been spiraling for a long time, and she had felt powerless to save him.

Charlie shifted again, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with where his thoughts had taken him. “I think now, I just want someone who actually makes me feel good about myself, you know? Someone who... I don’t know, makes me feel safe. Someone kind.”

She swallowed, her throat tight. “Yeah. Someone who listens to you. Who makes you feel seen.”

Charlie nodded, his gaze distant. “And maybe... someone who’s funny? Like, someone who can make me laugh, even when things feel heavy. I never had that before. I want someone who’s... I don’t know, someone you can just be with. No pretending.”

She felt her stomach tighten because the person Charlie was describing wasn’t just some vague idea of what he wanted. It was Nick. She recognized every trait, every subtle hint. And she couldn’t deny that those were the same things she wanted, too.

Her mind drifted back to Nick—his easy laugh, the way he looked at her like she mattered, the way his kindness seemed to radiate from him. How he made her feel calm, and seen, and important, without ever trying too hard.

“Yeah, someone who’s thoughtful,” she added, hoping Charlie didn’t notice how her voice wavered. “Someone who... I don’t know, just does little things that make you feel like they actually care. Like when they remember something small about you, something you didn’t even think they’d notice.”

She didn’t need to say it, but she was describing Nick, too. His little gestures, his quiet attentiveness. The way he made everything feel lighter, less complicated, just by being there.

Charlie looked over at her then, his brow furrowed. Maybe he recognized it, too. The unspoken tension between them, the way they both seemed to be tiptoeing around the same thing, the same person.

The bus jolted slightly as it hit a bump, but neither of them said anything for a while. The silence was heavier now, weighted with thoughts neither of them wanted to voice.

She leaned back in her seat, staring at the ceiling of the bus, and her mind wandered back to the darker days—those days when Charlie had been at his lowest, struggling under the weight of his own self-hatred. The bullying had been relentless, the whispers about him being gay, the cruel looks and snickers when he walked down the halls. She’d wanted to protect him, to shield him from all of it, but she couldn’t. Not really.

And then there had been the nights when she’d hear him crying through the thin walls of their house, when he thought no one could hear him. She would sit outside his door, trying to will him to open it, to let her in. But he never did.

The worst had been the self-harm. The first time she saw the scars on his wrists, the breath had been knocked out of her, like the world had tilted on its axis. She didn’t know what to say, how to make him stop, how to tell him that he was worth more than whatever he thought of himself. It was like he was slipping away, and she was powerless to pull him back.

She would catch him skipping meals, staring blankly at his food, the grip of bulimia tightening around him until he was disappearing right in front of her. She remembered the fights, the pleading, the helplessness as she watched her brother sink deeper into his pain.

And now, here they were. The worst of it had passed, but the cracks were still there. Sometimes she worried that they would never be the same, that the shadow of those dark days would always linger between them.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said suddenly, his voice soft.

She blinked, turning to him. “For what?”

“For everything. For the way I pulled away from you when I was... going through all that. I didn’t mean to. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it.”

She swallowed hard, her chest tightening. “You don’t have to apologize, Charlie. You were going through hell. I just... I wish I could’ve done more. I wish I could’ve stopped you from hurting.”

He gave her a small, sad smile. “You did more than you think. You stayed. That was enough.”

The bus slowed as they approached the school, and she glanced out the window, her heart heavy. She didn’t know how to fix what was happening between them now, this quiet competition over Nick that neither of them wanted to admit. But as they sat there, side by side, she knew one thing: no matter what happened, she would stay. Just like she always had.

—

As the school day dragged on, she found herself sitting with her tray of food, absently picking at it while her thoughts remained stuck on that morning’s conversation with Charlie. Things between them had been heavy lately, a quiet tension settling in that neither of them seemed willing to break. And she couldn’t stop thinking about Nick—how both she and Charlie had been describing him on the bus without saying it out loud.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear Tara calling her name.

“Hey, earth to you!” Tara waved her hand in front of her face, snapping her back to the cafeteria. “Where were you just now?”

She smiled sheepishly, shaking her head. “Sorry, just... spaced out.”

Tara smiled warmly and sat down next to her. “No worries. Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” She paused, her voice lowering slightly. “Harry’s throwing a big party for his birthday this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d want to come as my plus one? I mean, I know you’re not super close with him, but it’ll be fun. You should come!”

Her heart skipped a beat. A party? With Harry’s crowd? The same crowd that included Nick... and Charlie. She opened her mouth to respond, but then something clicked.

“Wait... Nick’s going, isn’t he?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Yeah, pretty much everyone’s going. Oh!” Tara’s eyes widened slightly, as if she’d just remembered something. “Nick’s actually bringing Charlie. They’re kind of a thing now, right? I saw them together the other day, and it seemed pretty obvious.”

Her stomach dropped. Nick was bringing Charlie. The words hit her like a punch, though Tara said them so casually, like it was common knowledge, like it didn’t change everything.

She forced a smile, but it felt like it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, they’re... they’re close.”

Tara gave her a knowing look, clearly unaware of the internal turmoil she was now drowning in. “You should still come! We’ll have fun, and it’ll be a good distraction. You know how Harry’s parties are.”

She nodded, though her mind was somewhere else entirely. She couldn’t stop thinking about how Nick had invited Charlie. He hadn’t even thought to ask her. Maybe she wasn’t even on his radar.

“I’ll think about it,” she replied, her voice hollow.

Tara smiled brightly and gave her a quick hug before rushing off to meet Darcy, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

The truth settled in, sinking like a stone in her chest. Nick had chosen Charlie. Maybe he didn’t know about her feelings, maybe it wasn’t personal, but it still hurt like hell.

—

Later that evening, the familiar clatter of dishes filled the kitchen as the family sat down for dinner. The scent of roast chicken and vegetables wafted through the air, but she wasn’t really paying attention to the food in front of her. Her mind was still caught in an endless loop of Tara’s words—Nick’s bringing Charlie.

Across the table, Charlie sat quietly, poking at his plate. He didn’t seem his usual self either. They hadn’t spoken much since the bus ride earlier that morning, and now, with their parents chatting away and Ollie rambling on about something from school, the silence between them felt even heavier.

“Charlie, sweetie, are you okay?” their mom asked, looking at him with concern as she passed the salad bowl. “You’ve hardly touched your dinner.”

Charlie glanced up quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... not super hungry.”

Tori, sitting at the far end of the table, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She had always been the quiet observer, noticing things without saying much. Her sharp eyes flicked between the twins, clearly sensing the tension, though she remained silent.

Ollie, oblivious as ever, was in the middle of a story about his day at school, his small hands gesturing wildly as he talked. “And then we played soccer at lunch, and I almost scored, but Jamie tripped me! He said it was an accident, but I don’t believe him.”

Their dad chuckled. “Well, maybe next time you’ll get him back, huh? Just don’t let it ruin your day.”

Ollie beamed and kept going, but she was barely listening. She kept sneaking glances at Charlie, wondering if he knew—if he had any idea about how she felt, how much this hurt. She wondered if he was hurting, too, or if he was just excited to be going to Harry’s party with Nick. Maybe it was easier for him, now that Nick had chosen him.

The thought twisted painfully in her chest. She couldn’t be angry with Charlie, not really. He didn’t know how she felt. They hadn’t spoken about Nick, not directly. But the competition between them was there, unspoken but impossible to ignore. It felt like they were both tiptoeing around the same fragile thing, hoping it wouldn’t shatter.

Their mom’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’ve been quiet too,” she said, her gaze now on her. “Everything okay with you?”

She nodded quickly, plastering on a smile that felt just as fake as Charlie’s. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just tired, I guess.”

Tori finally spoke up, her voice calm and measured as she glanced between the two of them. “You both seem tired. Anything happen at school today?”

She felt Charlie stiffen next to her, and for a moment, they both shared a glance. A silent understanding passed between them—neither of them wanted to talk about it. Not here. Not now.

“Nah, same old stuff,” Charlie muttered, quickly turning back to his plate.

She gave a slight shrug, echoing his sentiment. “Yeah, nothing new.”

Their mom didn’t push, though the concerned furrow in her brow remained. Instead, she turned her attention back to Ollie, who was still enthusiastically recounting his day.

For a few minutes, the table was filled with the sounds of clinking silverware and Ollie’s animated voice, but she couldn’t shake the heaviness in the pit of her stomach. She kept thinking about the party. What would it be like seeing Charlie and Nick there together, knowing that Nick had chosen him, even if unintentionally? She wondered if Charlie would be as uncomfortable as she would, or if this was just her own heartbreak to deal with.

As dinner wound down, their dad started talking about work, and she caught Tori’s eyes flicking back toward her and Charlie again. It was like Tori could sense everything. She always had been the most perceptive out of all of them.

After a few more minutes of quiet, she pushed her plate away, her appetite long gone. “I think I’m gonna go upstairs,” she said, trying to sound casual as she stood up.

Charlie looked up at her, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He just nodded, and a moment later, he stood up too.

“We’ll help clear the table,” he added, his voice sounding distant. Their parents didn’t argue, though their mom gave them both a lingering look of concern.

Together, they grabbed the dishes in silence, moving around the table as the rest of the family continued chatting. It wasn’t until they were alone in the kitchen, with the sound of running water and the clink of plates being loaded into the dishwasher, that the tension finally bubbled to the surface.

“I heard Nick’s bringing you to Harry’s party,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d intended.

Charlie froze for a second, his hand hovering over a plate before he continued loading it. He didn’t look at her when he replied. “Yeah. He... asked me earlier this week. I didn’t know you were going.”

She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t going to, but Tara invited me. As her plus one.”

There was a long pause, the only sound being the gentle slosh of water as Charlie rinsed off the dishes. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you... okay with that?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. Was she okay? Not really. But could she tell him that? Could she tell him how much it hurt, how every day it felt like they were both silently fighting for Nick’s attention, even though neither of them would admit it?

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I feel right now.”

Charlie finally looked at her, and in his eyes, she saw the same pain, the same confusion she was feeling. Maybe he wasn’t as okay as she thought. Maybe this was hurting him too.

But neither of them said anything more. Because deep down, they both knew that whatever was happening between them—this quiet, unspoken rivalry over Nick—it wasn’t something that could be fixed with words. Not yet.

—

Diary entry 4.

Dear Charlie,

I don’t even know where to begin. Tonight was supposed to be a normal dinner, but it felt anything but. There’s a heaviness hanging in the air, and I can’t shake this feeling that we’re on the brink of something bad.

When you talked about wanting someone who makes you feel good, I felt like I was drowning. I wanted to scream out that I want you to be happy too, but it’s so much more complicated than that. I felt this gut-wrenching pain in my chest because I can’t stop thinking about Nick. It’s like he’s become this unwitting wedge between us, and I hate it.

You don’t know this, but every time I see you together, it feels like I’m losing you little by little. I wish I could be happy for you, but the truth is I’m scared. I’m scared that you’ll choose him over me, that you’ll forget about our bond, our connection. I keep pretending that everything is fine, that I’m okay with you being with him, but inside, it’s like a storm is raging.

It’s not just jealousy; it’s a fear of losing the one person I’ve always relied on. You’ve fought through so much with Ben, and I’ve watched you struggle to find happiness again. I thought I was being supportive, but it’s becoming harder to pretend I’m not hurt. Watching you with Nick feels like watching someone take away the last piece of my heart.

The party is coming up, and I can’t stop thinking about how hard it’s going to be. I’ll have to stand there and smile while you two flirt and laugh, pretending I’m not dying inside. I hate this feeling, and I hate that I’m turning something that should be joyful into a source of pain.

I wish we could talk about this openly, but I don’t want to add to your burdens. You’ve been through so much already, and I don’t want to make things worse. But the longer I hold this in, the more it eats away at me. I’m terrified of what’s happening between us, and I don’t know how to fix it.

I hope you can feel that I’m still here for you, even if it’s getting harder to breathe under the weight of all this. I want to be the supportive sister you deserve, but I’m not sure how to reconcile my feelings with my love for you.

Please, let’s find a way to talk about this soon. I need you to know I love you, no matter how messy things get. I just hope we can find a way back to each other before it’s too late.

Yours always,

[Your Name]

[kairiscorner]

he can't make up his mind.

inspired by @smokeywhalee's lovely prompt !!

part 1. part 2.

he was never the type to want to be bothered by anyone–never the type to let himself be distracted by other people's affairs, and was never the type to commit to that whole 'friendship' business. you tried your luck at being acquaintances with him on the first day at the spider society, and of course, that blew over pretty... poorly.

all he gave you were side glances and awkward silences as responses to all your greetings and questions. it was always a good talk with him, oh, definitely–he did a brick wall's job better at being silent and indifferent. the months passed, and you hadn't noticed a single change in his behavior; he was the same as always, cold and distant, and was quick to leave or shut you down when you had any bold ideas to capturing villains or anomalies.

'too bold', or 'too ambitious' he'd claim your proposals would be. "you're supposed to be a defender of the multiverse, not act as fodder for the bad guys–start wising up and just... stay with me." he'd always say in all kinds of ways. it pissed you off how he kept shouldering all the responsibilities and tasks for himself, it didn't relax you one bit knowing that you weren't doing anything but just staying as 'miguel o'hara's partner' instead of doing the usual spider people duties you'd do on your own back in your home dimension. peter b and jess always pointed out that miguel had a secret liking to you, but you never believed them; if he liked you so much, he'd trust you to do all the stuff he could, right?

of course not, because tonight, when you were just minding your own business and readying yourself up, about to go on a date, miguel was... acting strangely that evening.

"where are you off to? don't you know you... have more patrol hours today? ...a date? with whom? i don't know that guy, do i? what's he like? how'd you meet him? is he decent? is he tall? is he smart at biology? a geneticist? a... guy who genuinely cares about you?"

"what's with all the questions?"

he turned away from you, his broad, toned back facing you as always, making you roll your eyes and thinking just how typical this scene was–save for his incessant questions and generally nosy behavior tonight. he shrugged and focused on his monitors again, clearing his throat before he answered you. "you... shouldn't just trust anybody, it doesn't matter how long you've known them–when... you start opening up, to people you... feel vulnerable around–you can't ever tell when they'll change. when their feelings for you might take a whole 180 and you'll realize too late that... this guy might actually be an asshole and hurt you."

"...and i would never want you to go through that kind of hurt." "what was that?" you asked him as you fixed your hair in front of your compact mirror, focusing on your reflection while he gave you that mini speech. you hadn't listened to him, unfortunately, and miguel sighed in response; hanging his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "nevermind, just... make sure you'll be safe." "it's not like i'm going off to fight a venom variant or anything, i'll be fine, miggy." "...i wouldn't know what i'd do if you weren't." he muttered to himself as you stepped out of the portal you opened to go on your date, secretly wishing as he stayed behind and alone in his vast, dark office that he was the one out there with you tonight, making you feel special and loved–not just some other guy who wouldn't even come close to him in loving you.

but if he's too hesitant to make the first move... is he really any better at loving you and treating you right than this guy you're going out with tonight?

he sighed as lyla appeared over his shoulder. "you could begin by being more open with them, y'know?" "did my mini speech mean nothing at all to them?" "oh, no, it's just... you had a point, yeah, though, how could you prove yourself to them if you're too scared of moving forward and actually, y'know, making stuff happen?" "...we'll deal with it after their date, can we check on their dimension to make sure they're...?" lyla sighed and pulled up the monitor with you walking to your date spot in your dimension, and miguel watched closely as he anxiously tried to analyze the guy you were with, muttering under his breath how basic they looked.

"i mean, seriously, out of all the people they could have picked–why not the only person who takes all the effort to take up all their burdens and work for them?" "oh, you mean the overbearing, overprotective vampire boss man who doesn't let them fo anything and snoops in on their business 24/7, gee, i wonder why..." she mumbled sarcastically as miguel glared at her. "not helping." "why, glad to know that, mr. brooding and jelly."

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[pedgito]

Hiiiii, can i ask for one of Ezra with smut plsssss? i really loved the pre-outbreak!joel miller <3 thankssss

pairing | ezra (prospect) x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, dubcon (it's a sex pollen fic, so just to be safe) but it's fairly consensual aside from that, but read at your own risk! this is set pre-movie time, so the plot is pretty loose, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex [6.5k]

author’s note | smut starts about 3k words in if you just want the naughty bits! i wanted to try something new for the recent milestone i hit as a treat but if this flops don't look at me, i've never written this trope before forgive me

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

The sky is a sickening yellow that burns in the daylight here, hand crowding over your face to block out the glaring sun as it beats down, sweating through the thick padding of the suit that acts as your lifeline. You hate these trips, the ones that are purely for scouting and not for the attempt at digging and coming away with at least something of value to keep for yourself. It seems pointless and reckless, always poised for an attack by rival prospectors threatening to lay claim to an area you haven’t learned much about. 

Luckily, this moon was untouched. Nothing like the ravenous Green you were used to. It’s both a relief and a danger. There was something off about this place, the air, the ground, the foliage that surrounded, and the lack of active life. Not an animal, parasite, nor any other species, human or something similar to be found. It’s barren and eerie but full of energy, the plants surrounding breathing in the air as if they are the living beings of this place.

You’ve only ever heard about these places in stories; the moons that no one dared to visit in fear that they might never leave, that the ground would swallow them whole and feast on their bodies. No one that landed ever left, always mysteriously disappearing off the face of the universe. 

Yet somehow, you still ended up here. Alone, completely alone. 

“What a sight this is,” A voice speaks from a distant, head whipping around all sides to find the source, the bulbous helmet obstructing your view, “do my eyes deceive me?”

You left your gun on this ship–first mistake. But, you had the small knife tucked away in your pocket handy and ready for use if needed, fingers lingering around the pouch until your eyes laid claim to the person the voice belonged to. Helmetless, too.

“You stay–you stay back,” You warn, voice shaken, “why are you–how are you breathing this air?”

Almost for show, he takes a deep breath.

“Amazing, is it not?” He asks, shifting some of the tall foliage out of the way as he walked closer, following the make-shift trail along the dirt that threaded through the tall plants, encasing you in a small fortress. “I only found out a couple days ago. It is–quite amazing, you agree?”

“Why are you here?” You avoid his weird approach at an introduction, examining his features to assure he was human–it seemed that way, a small scar settled under his left eye that brought you more questions alongside the small patch of white hair hovering above his forehead. His accent was even stranger, from some far off area you’ve never heard of, the dialect all it’s own.

“I could be asking you the same thing, little bird.” He tilts his head curiously, tapping on the thick glass of your helmet as he approaches closer, “This is…high end. Interesting. What is someone like you doing out here, all alone?”

“My job. I'm here to prospect and harvest.” 

It's what everyone’s job was now–digging for gems and valuables to make a profit, making a living, keep themselves alive. Wash, rinse, repeat. You did well, always came back with a plentiful bounty. But, something told you this time was different.

“So, you're a floater. Where do you reside?” He asks curiously. "If you even have a home."

“Doesn’t matter.” You ignore him, “Are you going to kill me?”

You can see the gun attached to his hip and loaded, just a small flinch and he could have you dead in a millisecond.

“Now, come on–give me some of the benefit.” He pleads, but takes a second too long to continue, his face quickly morphing into amusement, “Unfortunately, you’re right, birdie. I’m required to shoot on sight, protect the product, and wait for the arrival of my crew. Now, why am I telling you this?”

“You want me to leave.”

His smile grows wider, his body tilting into the movement as he dips into his next step, snapping his fingers in a ‘aha!’ fashion, proving that you were correct. 

“Smart, I appreciate that,” He compliments, his face quickly washed of emotion when he sees you unmoving, the small knife now poised between your fingertips, lowered close to your waist, “heaven waits girl, flee or die.”

“You don’t scare me,” You assure him, flipping the knife in a defensive stance as he invades your space further, watching you, examining. Like a meal, “what are you protecting here?”

“Hmm, brave…” He ripostes, “What do you think?”

It feels like he’s fishing–for information or clues and it dawns on you, the small amount of hesitation he has for not killing you outright, almost like he’s afraid.

“I think you have no idea what this place holds,” You challenge him, “how did you find out this air was breathable exactly? Did you trip? Were you attacked? Or were you just that stupid enough to take your gear off on a hunch?”

The silence is long and telling, his demeanor changing on a dime again, eyebrows furrowing slightly in annoyance and…anger?

“Oh shit,” You huff out a laugh, “were you–you were abandoned weren’t you? Betrayed by your own men? Your filters junked and took your fuckin’ chances like a dunce, but man, people like you are hard to kill, aren’t they?”

“You don’t know what you’re walkin’ into,” He warns, “you wanna take them chances alone?”

Truth is, he didn't either. He hadn't stepped a few yards away form his camp until now, too terrified by what lingered come nightfall, the planet feeling like it might split under your feet.

You’ve met men like him before, scared little boys hiding behind their big man persona to fill their own egos, but when it came down to it, he was just as terrified in this world as you.

But, at least you could admit it.

“I came here alone,” You point out, “What do you think?”

He knows the answer but doesn’t respond and eventually, he retreats.

“Look, girl–there’s somethin’ out there and it’s...big, loud–whatever it is, it’s alive and if you’re not terrified to go near it, you’re insane. I hear it at night, it’s worse than anything you can imagine, even the stories your parents told you as a child. Something is hidin' here, waiting.”

You always knew that the real monsters were the people, like you, because they had motive and intent, which made them far more dangerous.

You grab onto the connectors of your suit suddenly, decompressing your helmet on a whim. The air is crisp and clean despite what you’re expecting–it doesn’t burn or constrict, rather it expands, breathing a new feeling into your lungs.

“Fear is a good thing,” You tell him, nicking his hand with the knife unexpectedly when he moves to close, a quick prick that catches him off guard as he pulls away, nursing his thumb between his lips as he sucks, “keeps us human, right?” 

Because whatever fear you had felt earlier toward the man had quickly dissipated and shifted onto him, his eyes a little darker as he watched you pocket the knife, letting your guard down when you realize just how helplessly harmless he was despite how he flared himself off in the beginning. 

“I’m not leaving here empty handed,” You take in the full frame of him, tall and lean but less intimidating now, “are you?”

It was a mistake, something you will soon realize. Most of the moon is covered in a deep foliage to thick to search through, but after what feels like a few hours of walking, some tense small talk where you find out that the man who so easily threatened your life was named Ezra.

In a show of good faith, you tell him your own.

He’ll be dead by the end of this either way, either by your hands or the blade of your knife after you use him to get what you need—he wouldn’t see it coming, not a chance.

And he’s older too, lingering somewhere near his early early 40s from the way he talks. He’s weathered and callous around the edges and he’s seen things, you can assess that much. 

He asks your age but it’s quickly snuffed out by a, “Doesn’t matter,” still, it’s obvious you’re younger and a little more naive in your brevity and willingness to risk your life on a whim.

You stumble upon the cave after the sun has set, the sky a hazy purple that creates a soft glow over your skin and you lead into the cave with little trepidation, amazed by the sight before you. 

“God, these are beautiful,” You spoke candidly, examine the tight cracks in the rock that were lined with an interconnecting of vines, an ecosystem growing inside this dark, dwelling cave and acting as a beacon of light as it thrummed alive, glowing bright before dimming gradually in a continuous manner, “you were scared of this?”

“Something lives here, comes out at night when the sky is black and makes the ground shake,” Ezra warns, careful to linger back toward the entrance, “we don’t have much time.”

“My—these are bioluminescent, right?” The flower glowing in your hand as you touch it, dragging a delicate finger along the spine of the stem, “I’ve only read about them, some of these carry healing properties. I should take a few, could make good profit from them.”

Your greediness tells you to harvest, keep some for yourself, but Ezra is on you in a flash, grabbing your wrist as the flower puffs to life, startling you as it expands.

“Get back!” He shouts, “Those aren’t—“

But, it’s too late. A puff of glowing powder filtrates the air and into your face, sucking in an involuntary breath as it nearly suffocates you, pushing you back onto your ass.

Ezra scrambles, wiping your face with a delicate touch despite his worried expression before he’s gripping your wrist and yanking you back toward the entrance.

“What the hell—what was that?” You ask raggedly, wiping your face of whatever substance had spewed itself at you.

“Only ones I’ve heard of are poison,” Ezra admits, “Paralyzing agents, slow killers, nothin’ good.”

You follow him blindly, a hand tugging on your suit as he drags you along, hearing the faint shake of the mulch underneath your feet and you both tense, a shared look of worry.

“Little bird,” Ezra tugs you hard, hoping his urgency is conveyed in his eyes as he locks onto you, “we’re not makin’ it back to your pod I’m afraid.”

The shaking grows stronger, paired with a low rumble that has you both stumbling to the ground, body jolting at the touch of his fingertips against your neck where he catches you, hands planted into his chest as you plant yourself above him.

“I know I’m not one to trust,” Ezra admits, “But, I’ve got a tent a few meters east, it might keep us safe ‘til daylight.”

You quickly shove his hand away, the touch burning your skin in an unpleasant way, a weird feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Might?” You seethe, eyes growing comically wide at his unsureness. 

“I told you comin’ this way was a bad idea, you chose not to listen,” Ezra ignores the distaste for his touch as you wretch his hand away, “it’s up to you—run back to your pod and hope you make it or we can saddle in at my camp.”

You’re logical enough to know there’s only one choice.

Self-preservation.

You let him guide you upright before immediately separating yourself, following his quick footsteps as he led you back toward his sanctuary.

The difference in you, Ezra notices, is night and day.

Your eyes are scanning around frantically as he reaches for the cover of the entrance, mindful of his touch as he guides you inside, realizing the severity of the things you had encountered in the cave.

He’s never seen it for himself, assuming most of it was a myth. Some of it is collected and concentrated into a small drug that’s used in the places that are higher-up, living more luxurious, the people overflowing with wealth that have nothing better to do than get high and fuck—it’s that simple, a sex drug.

But from the source, natural—there’s no telling the strength. Even him, though not in the direct pathway and mostly by touches transferred between you two, has him feeling a little perturbed, his skin feeling itchy underneath the suit, like he wants to crawl out of his body. 

The silence that settles inside the tent when you’re both seated, far apart and in the two separate bunks stationed on either side, the one full of his belongings shoved to the side as you sit, pulling at the collar of your suit desperately. It feels like you’re suffocating, drowning inside the suit while your skin breaks out in a sheen of sweat, eyes squeezed shut as you force out a shaky breath.

Ezra watched it all happen, pulling lazily at the fingers of his gloves before unzipping his own suit, kicking it to the side and leaving him in his normal undergarments; a fitted black sweater paired with some black slacks. 

You glance over briefly, confused by his calmness, confused by your sudden affinity to be out of this suit and near him, needing the feeling of something other than this thing pressed against your skin. He looks eerily normal like this, dressed in his day to day clothes. 

“I think I might know what’s ailing you, birdie.” Ezra admits, forearms resting on his knees where he’s bent them, feet planted on the ground in front of him, “can I ask how you’re feeling?”

“Fine,” You grumble, the poor lie slipping past your lips, “Just—need out of this suit.”

He nods, extending a hand that you quickly defer away, eyes growing wide, “No, don’t fucking touch me.”

“I won’t touch your skin,” Ezra assures you, “That’s what’s got you worried, right? Feels like you’re on fire?”

His description is perfect, somehow managing to convey what you’re feeling, desperately alone inside your mind with thoughts that shouldn’t be.

He shifts to move, walking with his knees until he’s by your side, hands held up in surrender until he’s close enough to you, undoing the bindings in your suit to let you free, letting them fall to the floor with a heavy klunk as you kick them away.

“What—what was it?” You know he knows. Or that he at least had some kind of notion, his eyes scanning you carefully. Despite the sudden coolness to your skin from the thin tank that you’re wearing, it feels like a heat is bubbling underneath the surface.

“I’ve only ever heard of these things elsewhere,” Ezra explains slowly, bouncing around the truth, “it’s a, uh—enhancement of sorts, a drug to most.”

“Ezra.” You grimace, pushing him toward the point. It’s the first time you use his name, acknowledge him, and it feels weird. He’s not used to hearing it, either.

“Sex pollen.” He drives it home, no more beating around the bush. “It’s why you feel like jumpin’ out of your skin, why you couldn’t stand my touch.”

“Fuck off,” You scoff out tiredly, a bitter laugh lingering in the back of your throat, “that stuff isn’t real.”

Ezra’s eyes narrow, pointedly on you as he examines your response to him coming near, extending his fingers out carefully, “Give me your wrist.”

You back away unknowingly, hiding your hand away and ignoring the insistent beating of your heart in your chest, the sound of your pulse in your ears, the slow churning in your gut now impossible to ignore.

“Don’t touch me,” You warn, “Is this how you approach strangers? Tell ‘em they’re high on a sex drug and hope they’ll believe you?”

He says your name softly, hand dropping to his side, seeming a little irritated himself, though less so than you. 

“I’m tellin’ you because whether you want to be or not, you’re stuck in this tent with me until sunrise.”

You scurry toward the corner of the bed, chest heaving through deep breaths, brow furrowing as you stare him down. 

“Keep to your side,” You tell him, “I don’t want you coming near me.”

Ezra backs away without argument—he may be something of a scoundrel, a murderer, but he never had any intention of hurting you. Not before, not now. He was good at playing it up, but he knew you saw through it.

“You’ve got about an hour,” Ezra tells you, “maybe less now, but eventually that fever is gonna affect your brain, just like any other sickness and you’ll be worse off than when you came here.”

“Are you some kind of doctor or something?” 

“You learn a thing or two in this line of work,” He pulls haphazardly at the suspenders held snug around his shoulders, letting them fall loose to his hips, “I’ve never encountered it like this until now.”

“And you—you don’t feel…off?” You ask carefully, a sudden urge to squeeze your thighs together and soothe the growing ache between your legs. 

“I didn’t inhale it like you, didn’t get as deep of a dose,” The contact with you initially was just enough to keep him on edge, the itch under his skin growing slowly, he felt it too—the need, “you sure you’re alright?”

It’s the first moment of vulnerability you have with him as you glance up through downturned eyes, hands gripping the thick, coarse material of your pants.

“It hurts,” You admit quietly, “like a—like an ache, almost. Are you sure it’s safe here?”

Ezra nods, “Believe it or not, I’m not interested in the business of killing you.”

Not anymore.

“Forgive me for not thinkin’ that’s true, considering you threatened my life the moment I stepped foot on this moon.”

Ezra shrugs, fiddling with his sleeve silently.

“You’re full of empty threats, aren’t you?” You patronize him, turning your back to him now, settling down on the bed in hopes to calm whatever feeling was spreading throughout your body. “Come near me and I’ll shove that knife into your chest, got it?”

“Sure,” He responds distantly, “sweet dreams, birdie.”

And he himself tries to settle in, allow himself a moment of rest, but just as he’s lingering on the edges of sleep he hears you rouse, letting out a small whimper of pain as you pull at your slacks in earnest, “God, it fucking hurts.”

Ezra rolls to his side, head propped up lazily in his hand as he speaks, “M’gonna be blunt with you—only thing that’s gonna help is sexual release.”

“Stop talking,” You groan, the sound of his voice a few feet away and at a much lower register, thick with exhaustion, “it’s not like I can just take care of it with you here.”

For Ezra, it’s more of an annoyance, the tingling underneath his skin, the filthy thoughts running through his mind despite himself—he’s not that type of person, never would be, but that sight of you, the curve of your body even in this light, it’s enough to keep the flame alive.

He can see you’re struggling, fighting away whatever you were feeling and denying it despite the horrible pain you were in. 

“Let me step out,” It’s not a solution to the problem, “I can give you the room.”

And really, you weren’t sure it would even help. There was a need for contact, even as you wrestle with the button of your slacks and press your hands flat against your stomach in an effort to ease the ache, it’s not as satisfying. 

It makes you feel rabid, wiping the thin layer of sweat from your cheeks as you take a chance to look at Ezra when you turn on your back—he seems relaxed, aside from the insistent fidgeting of his fingers against one another, clenching and unclenching his fist every so often.

“Be honest with me,” You plead, “you’ve seen this before?”

“Only heard things,” He admits, eyes dragging toward the flickering light placed between you on the central beam supporting the tent—he’s talking to you, but he seems distant, far away, “it’s meant as an aid for—you know—“

You feel the impending but coming.

“But, like this—I don’t know much.” Ezra breathes out a deep breath, adjusting the slowly growing tightness against the front of his pants. “Even a small dose like that can be hell.”

You sigh shakily, fingers drifting until they’re only a few centimeters under your waistband, noticing his subtle attempt to adjust himself.

“Are you—do you feel it?” You ask softly, hanging by a thread. “I didn’t think you inhaled it like me.”

Ezra clears his throat, trying to respect your boundaries by not openly grinding up into his own hand—he was a bad man some days, but he wasn’t a savage. 

“Just being near you,” He assumes, “it absorbs into your skin or something like that and by touchin’ you I got a smaller dose. You’re hurting somethin’ bad, aren’t you?”

You nod jerkily, earlier disgruntled emotions toward the man forgotten. He’s proven to not be as big of a threat as he posed and he’s almost friendly now, keeping his distance and trying not to scare you. It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself, but you hated how easily your thoughts betrayed you. You wanted someone near, didn’t matter who—you both just had the misfortune of being stuck together in a situation like this, dancing around the obvious. 

“Maybe—“ You sigh softly, eyes roving his body for a moment, “if we just take care of it ourselves, just close our eyes and no one’s gotta leave?”

“I don’t think—“

You’re impatient, fed up, fingers dip until they meet your core, drenched in the sweet slick of yourself and painful to the touch, a moan blossoming in your chest involuntarily.

“Little bird, I am not so sure that—“

“Shut up,” You sigh heavily, rubbing insistently at your clit for relief, constricted by the stiff waistband of your pants as you flex your fingers to fit inside you, “just do it, get it over with so we can get some sleep and leave this place come—come morning.”

He knows you don’t mean what you’re implying; the off-chance you might take him with you after being abandoned, he’s not that lucky, he never was. 

You gasp when your fingers breach your center, pressing beyond your tight opening and Ezra can feel the noises rattling him to his core.

“If I wanted to be treated like a lady I wouldn’t be doing this—in front of you, right now.” Ezra actually laughs at that, a small chuckle the rumbles from his chest. “Don’t worry, I won’t look.”

It’s the coyness in your voice that does him in, his hips rutting up into his palm slowly before he’s breaking that seal, assuming a similar position and hastily shoving his hands down his trousers, grinding down on his teeth to muffle the sound that escapes him when he feels the first touch, feeling everything more intensely now that he had given in.

“Better?” You ask curiously, voice still tight and ragged, the ache that was once dull was throbbing at your core and up your spin, growing the more your fingers dragging along your slit and over the small bundle of nerves.

It wasn’t enough. Didn’t feel like enough. Part of you knew that one simple orgasm by your hand wouldn’t solve this, but you remained naive, breath quickening as you shoved your pants down further, hastily, kicking them off the rest of the way.

Ezra hums a lousy response from your right, the soft shift of fabric against fabric, his movements quickening as he finds a rhythm, hand tightening around his shaft at the awkward angle he was forcing himself into with his cock still stuffed inside his pants. 

Honesty would be good, right? Right now? 

You let out an exasperated growl as you scramble upright, head hanging back between your shoulders.

“This isn’t fucking working,” You admit, “It doesn’t even feel good it just hurts.”

And the emphasis on the word is prevalent as you chance a look over at Ezra, his hand stilled underneath his clothes but his eyes wide, a little comical as he takes in the sight of you now, bottom half bare and visible under this light, the smallest sliver of your stomach peeking through your top that had ridden up.

So much for keeping eyes closed.

“I—“ Ezra stops himself, face scrunching up with a dilemma, “what are you thinking?”

“I’m not,” It felt like your body was working on autopilot, shifting your body to face him, “I need—god, I need more. Do you think, maybe—“

“Yeah,” Ezra answers immediately, already matching your thought as you scramble the short distance toward him, his palm pressing gently against your chest, “holy—birdie, your heart is racing.”

You nod absently, shifting his hand down abruptly to cover you cunt, a needy whine escaping your throat at the touch. 

“I don’t have time to— talk this through,” It’s disjointed, voice airy as you speak to him, “help me, please?”

He’s never been more unprepared and unequipped for a situation in his life, falling privy to your motions as you grind against the heel of his palm, feeling his fingers explore cautiously. 

“Whatever you need,” He agrees, nodding insistently as he winds his free hand around your waist, guiding you over his lap in a movement that has one of his fingers pushing past your entrance, fist clenching into his shirt tight, “tell me—tell me.”

He sounds wrecked, beside himself, feeling guilty for the circumstance and regretting having taken the risk to talk to you, letting his ego get the best of him. He would’ve never been in this situation, never have met you.

And somehow, you still feel empty, eyes brimming with tears at the discomfort, the neediness you feel across your entire body, the desire to be taken over and consumed by him—there’s a brief moment where you lock eyes with him, almost like a transfer of energy as he feels your pain.

The contact somehow managed to make things worse for him, or more equal on your level as his opposite hand grips tight on your hip, fingers working dutifully to keep you full as his head hangs, working with the little friction he received from his cock being trapped underneath the tight fabric as he followed your movements, pushing in when you pulled away, a messy dance of limbs as you clawed at each other.

“More,” You cry softly, “give me more.”

“Little bird,” He says as a warn, though his voice is nothing but comfort, “you don’t have a clue what you’re asking of me.”

You nod frantically, “I do, I do.” 

His eyes pull to your lips, mouth hung slightly open as you gasp, feeling like you’ve been running for miles without doing any of the actual work, a type of primal desperation you’ve never felt before. 

“We don’t have to—“ You squeeze your eyes shut, voice strained, “maybe if we just—“

Ezra understands without you asking, shifting his pants down hastily with you over him, briefs follow with before he’s just as bare from the waist down, kicking his clothes away mindlessly as you settle down against him without warning, the suffocating heat of your core drawing his attention back to you.

“You’re burnin’ up,” He notices, hands settling gently against your waist as he feels the hesitant tilt of your hips on the first drag, a deep sigh combining between you both, “does that—does that help?”

“Shh, shh,” You hush him kindly, hoping that focusing on the sensation and rather his voice—which was driving you equally as mad by how wrecked he sounded—would help, but it soon dawns on you that there’s only one way to satiate the ache, pushing at his chest until he understands, a slow fumble back onto his elbows as you grind against him more insistently, the excessive wetness of your core soaking him at the base, his grip against your hips tightening with every passing second as a groan creeps from his throat, paired with your own shaky sigh, “I can’t—can’t focus.”

Ezra feels partly to blame, too lost in his own head to realize the severity of the stage you’re in—most coherent thinking nearly gone and replaced with nothing but this, him, an eagerness to dull the painful ache in your body and by association, his own. 

The lewd thoughts intensify with every pass of your center along his shaft, the head of his cock rubbing against your clit in an almost satisfying way, but there’s an emptiness that’s keeping you stuck, dangling over the edge.

You need him inside of you—want, as does he. He’s been picturing it since he saw your fingers dip past your core, since the strength of the pollen invaded his body and filled his mind with involuntary thoughts.

“Ezra,” You sound broken, tears having slipped down your cheek through the haze, “I need you.”

Ezra nods understandingly, his hand creeping up to cradle the side of your neck, your head lolling lazily into the touch, “I told you, little bird. Just tell me. Tell me what you need.”

“Want you inside,” You admit on a pathetic whimper, fingers slowly clawing up his clothed chest, fisting in the fabric as you move more insistently, “Ezra, please?”

In any other situation he would think this through, considering the consequences and ask you for reassurance, but he finds himself nodding before he can catch himself, guiding your hips up gently with his hand before you’re taking control and guiding the head of his cock to your center, seething him completely and to the hilt in one full motion, punching a strangled groan from his chest.

Ezra falls back fully with the force of your grip, huffing roughly with every eager bounce of your hips, watching as your eyes roll back slightly, feeling a slow sense of relief with how easily he fits inside of you. 

If it weren’t for the thick layer of his sweater you would’ve broken skin by how hard your grip was on him, his own grasp teetering on painful but dulled by how badly you needed to cum, or feel any type of release for that matter.

There’s a soft repeated mumble of “please, please, please,” falling from your lips that doesn’t stop, not entirely sure what you’re asking for but Ezra soothes a comforting hand up your waist and over your shoulder as he watches you, slowly losing yourself to the sensation of being filled so fully.

“I’m right here,” He assures you, a faint echo in the back of your mind, “fuck—I’m right here.”

He soon feels suffocated by the thickness of his sweater, your body heat overwhelming him inside and out as he silently guides you up and quickly rids himself of the last bit of material he had left on his body, hastily helping you with your own when he sees your hand struggling to pull at the damp fabric.

But once he gets his eyes on you, taking in the rawness of you, all desperation and mindless need as your breasts bounce softly with your movements, squeezed tight between your arms from where they’re planted against his chest and all Ezra can think is touch.

He wants to touch you—and like you’re thinking on the same wavelength, bodies interconnected and driven by one thing, lust—so, you ask. Or more accurately, beg,

“Stop thinking,” You tell him, “touch me, it’s okay.”

Ezra feels pained by your response, your own voice riddled with the tears that kept falling, though the obvious lack of sadness behind them. He nods, lifting a hand to knead the soft flesh between his fingertips, your muscles clenching around him involuntarily and pulling a moan out of you that he mimics with the same fervor. 

“Sweet jesus,” He speaks candidly, “you feel—“ Ezra doesn’t even have the words, landing on something that flashes through his mind quickly, “perfect, fuckin’ perfect.”

And Ezra can feel the intensity build as your hips falter, the brazen sound of skin slapping against skin slowing to a slow grind as you squeeze your brow line together, panting slightly.

“I got you,” He reminds you softly, slumping into him tiredly as he lifts his frame, flipping you over swiftly but carefully, settling your legs around his hips with a gentle touch, barricading you in with the taut muscle of his forearms, his hips moving slowly inside you still, “just focus, you gotta let go, birdie—only way you’ll get any relief.” 

You nod instinctively, vision increasingly hazy as you pull him in closer, his mouth connecting with your shoulder in a wet press of his lips—not quite a kiss, but not subtle enough to be a touch and without even asking, he’s fixing a hand over your cunt alongside his cock from where he’s working you to a near point of something similar to an out of body experience, like you might finally lose your mind.

His touches are tender but pointed, his own moans increasingly debauched as he rubs your clit in messy circles, the wet squelch of you and him as you move together driving you closer to the edge, the intense tingling along your spine growing to the point of near unbearable, body shaking under his touch as he slips his other hand behind your neck, lifting your chin up as you gasp, clenching down hard as you came, body taking on a mind of its own.

The feeling is so intense you feel like passing out, spotting in your vision as you drift away for a moment, whimpering softly against his touch as the intense feelings you’ve been having dull for a moment, the torture of your body betraying yourself gone for now but still lingering dangerously close in the shadows.

“Fuck, fuck—” You hear his voice muffled over the ringing in your ears, staring blankly at the ceiling of the tent while your heart rate calms, your name falling from his lips like a warning as he feels that pull, low in his groin, shifting away hastily to work a quick, feverish hand over his shaft and spilling over your stomach in warm pulses, face slack with pleasure, eyes closed and drifting into a familiar feeling of exhaustion. 

“I think–I think it’s over,” You mumble softly, fingertips dragging gently against his thighs, a contrast to the earlier hard grip you had on him as he drove you toward your orgasm, “Are you okay?”

Ezra shakes his head in disbelief, leaning back on his legs.

“For the moment,” He thinks briefly before nodding, noticing the worry in your face, corners of your mouth downturned in frustration, “—are you?”

And you would be, but even now as the exhaustion creeped in, that gnawing sensation was still lingering, leaving you wondering if this would last forever until you ended up dying some miserable death on this moon.

Ezra moves around slowly, reaching for one of the bags stowed away on the spare bed you were using prior and finding some sloppily cut cloth, he notices your weariness, “Just something to…” He gestures toward the mess of him on your stomach still, something you hadn’t really noticed until he pointed it out, his gentle assurance a comfort to you, “was usin’ them to keep clean when workin’ on my pod but…no pod, no reason to keep hoarding them.”

He leans back between your legs, cleaning you up without a word, silent as he drags the soft cotton over your stomach with a tenderness that shouldn’t make you feel that way. You barely know him and you’ll blame it on the ridiculous sex pollen filtering through your bloodstream, but he looks more docile now, like you might scare him if you move the wrong way.

He’s just as terrified as you.

“Ezra,” You call out softly, grabbing his attention, “can I be honest with you?”

“I would appreciate it, yeah,” He responds with a faint smile, “seein’ as the situation we’re in.”

“I don’t,” You blow out a tired huff through your lips, hands pushing away the wet, sticky hair from your face, “—it’s still there. Is that–normal?”

“Uh,” Ezra pauses, thinking, “I mean, I’ve heard a few hours, sometimes even a day. But, it should fade now, since you were able to—”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the words with your eyes staring him down so intensely. 

You wouldn’t be able to sleep like this, the impending exhaustion come sunrise would make it nearly impossible to get home, thinking back to how easily you could’ve turned around and left and never put yourself in this situation. Choices, decisions, nothing good ever came from haste thinking.

“If–if it doesn’t?” You ask softly, suddenly feeling scared of the unknown.

“It will,” He responds calmly, nodding, “but how long…there’s no tellin’.”

An eerie silence settles between you two, aside the gentle hum coming from outside of the tent, a distant worry now–most places you were taught to be scared of the people you might come across, but here, inside this tent, you couldn’t feel more safe.

“Forgive me for being so forward but–it’s safe here, at least for a day or two. I’ve got the food, the water. We can wait things out until morning, little bird.”

You huff a soft laugh through your nose, moving your legs around him gently to one side as he adjust himself, draping the blanket shoved near the end of the bed over his lap and carefully covering your own.

“What would you have done if you never saw me?” You ask curiously, “Your people abandoned you, only a few days of supplies, do I want to know why you were stranded here?”

Ezra shakes his head simply, that answer being enough for you to gloss over the topic.

“So, is this the part where you ask to come with me?” Ezra’s shoulders shake in a silent laugh, hanging his head as he looks away, “What a fuckin’ day this has been.”

“You don’t have to drag me along,” He tells you, “doesn’t feel right askin’. But, since we’re stuck here for a bit, least until this shit wears off–”

He feels the sensation burrowing in the base of his spine too, the release of endorphins allowing you both a moment of calm before it ramped up again, undoubtedly. And there’s a sudden urge from you to touch him, stopping his palm over your stomach as his fingertips feel the material of the blanket.

“I can be convinced,” You tell him, eyes softening under his gaze, “It’s all I do for a living, bartering, trading–you’ve proven pretty useful, anyways.”

Ezra smiles at your indication, thumb rubbing along the back of your hand and reminding you that this wasn’t near over yet, his touch leaving a dull burn in its wake. 

“Keep the pain away and I’ll give you a free ride,” You promise him, “no tricks, I swear.”

“Another one?” Ezra says jokingly, finding the smile that breaks out on your face a clear indication that it wasn’t too much of an overstep, adding a little light to the situation, “I’m honored.”

And even if it did takes hours for the pollen to leave your system, a few tiring orgasms later shared between you both in a very heated, messy exchange of bodies rubbing against each other or his head buried between your legs, there’s a clear indication to never come back here, leave this behind you, and try not to be hung up on the man you met on this moon as he parts ways with you not soon after you arrive back home. But, there’s a reassurance in his words as he leaves you, leaning against the open door of your pod as you restock for your next journey.

“Can’t keep myself in one place too long,” He says regretfully, “but I know where to find you.”

“Don’t get yourself killed out there.”

Ezra laughs at that, full-body and amused.

“Not a chance, little bird.”

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