#and snake hearts where they move them to keep it safe when feeding

[phantompeaches]

What a nice and normal drawing to post after vanishing for 2 and a half months. I'm sure there was no weird and unhinged process for figuring this pose out that entailed inventing organs that all occurred in the space of around 10 hours or anything.

[magicalqueennightmare]

One Question Answered

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You've been avoiding Elijah since he healed you so he tracks you down but not for the reason you assume

The one side effect of Elijah healing you was that you had no excuse to stay away from the Mikaelson compound. You didn't want to drag any of them into your fight, yeah logically it made little sense to not step back and let them handle it but this was your fight. You had brought this chaos down onto the hunting community because the one thing you'd yet to even tell Rebekah was the mastermind behind trying to form a squadron of people for hire out of hunters was your ex.

You were in Marcel’s gym, something he'd worked out with Bek. It was a little crazy considering you'd been attacked by humans to be working out surrounded by vampires with earbuds in but here you were. Music blasted as you landed punch after punch on one of the heavy bags. You had people tracking Evan. He'd be found and if you cut the head off the snake that should work.

You had to show patience but the longer he was out there poisoning people against decent hunters the better a chance someone got hurt and that person may not have an original vampire ready to feed them blood to speed up the process.

You'd avoided direct conversation with both Elijah and Klaus. Klaus was simple enough to avoid, offer of a decent bourbon warmed the hybrid out of conversation. Kol would let it go when you said you would ask for help if you couldn't handle it.

Rebekah was pissed you'd lied to her initially about why you needed your Nova put into storage for a while and even more pissed you wouldn't give names to who had attacked you. Elijah, well he was even worse. You weren't sure what had changed between the two of you but the last couple weeks had been tense to say the least.

When you couldn't manage to avoid him he would of course question if you were ready to tell him who'd hurt you. More than once he'd cursed your tattoo and it's warding for taking away his ability to compel you into telling him.

When you'd accused him of not respecting boundaries he'd rebutted that it wasn't crossing boundaries to make an attempt to keep you safe. That had been days ago. You'd steered clear of the compound choosing to see Rebekah somewhere else or not at all.

—--------------

The only reason you were at Marcel's gym was because it was the only place nearby you could walk into to work off stress with no questions being asked as to why you were there.

You weren't sure where your head was but when someone pulled your earbud out of your left ear you spun around mid punch. Elijah seemed slightly amused as he easily grabbed your fist before it could make contact with his jaw “Decent hit considering” you narrowed your eyes at him and it was only then you'd noticed the gym was empty.

“What are you doing here Elijah? Rebekah said you were out of town” he shrugged almost innocently “I assumed the best way to get your guard down was to make you think I wasn't in town. You've been avoiding me it seems” you moved your hand which was still in his “Can I have this back?” He smirked slightly “Are you going to try to run to not talk to me because we both know I can catch you”

You shrugged “Why would I run when I know for a fact it would be useless” he finally let go of your hand and gave your earbud back. You took it and turned to your bag that was sitting on the floor nearby. “Well I'm not running and you wanted to talk” you spoke over your shoulder as you squatted down to put your earbuds in their case. You stood up and faced him before starting to unwrap your hands. You suddenly felt out of place standing there in an oversized shirt and Nike leggings while he was of course dressed impeccably.

His eyes roamed across your body and you felt heat rise to your face, your heart pounding in your ears. He had a habit of making you forget when you were supposed to be putting room between the two of you “I'm not here to pursue the conversation of who attacked you. I trust that should you get in over your head you'll ask for assistance”

—-----------

Elijah relished the moments he managed to render you speechless. From the moment he'd met you the ability to seemingly always have a retort waiting was something he admired about you. Even when you were uncomfortable in a situation or nervous you hid it well.

Now, watching you standing in front of him fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, he had the urge to say anything he could to make your heart race again. The sound was music to his ears. “Then what are you here for Elijah?”

He smiled slightly “While I'm not here to discuss that matter I am here for a different one” your eyes narrowed at his words, distrust clear on your face but another emotion showed there also. You were trying to hide your attraction to him but he could see it. The way your eyes tracked him, how your heartbeat increased if he touched you even innocently. It intrigued him to no end. Many years had passed since a woman demanded his attention in this way.

“Considering you wouldn't answer my calls I thought I'd try my luck face to face. Would you accompany me to dinner?”

—--------------

Did Elijah just ask you out? No, there was no way. He must have meant dinner with his siblings or another ball he wanted a plus one for. “What do you mean?” You asked rather lamely, wishing you were wearing anything besides your workout clothes with your hair up in a lazy braid.

He gave you that smile that made your stomach flip. Damn he was gorgeous. “My darling little hunter, will you go on a date with me? Was that plain enough to make my intentions clear?”

Could a brain really short circuit? Had it not been that you knew for certain that the blood Elijah had given you had indeed cured you of any of your injuries you would've been certain the taser had caused brain damage. Who knew maybe it had? “Intentions clear” you finally spoke after a moment, feeling your head spin a bit.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He asked, causing a nervous laugh to slip out from you. What was your life at this point? You nodded slowly “That's a yes Elijah. I'd love to but can I ask one thing because of something Kol and Rebekah both said”

“Which is?” He asked a bit cautiously at the mention of his younger siblings. You knew you should probably let it go but this question had been weighing on you along with the Evan situation. “They said blood sharing was a thing, like vamps didn't do it lightly and that you normally would only open a vein to save one of them. So why heal me? Why willingly give me a part of you when my injuries weren't life threatening?”

He crossed the space between the two of you, raising a hand to cup your face much the same way he had when he'd healed you and it took everything in you to not turn into his touch. His dark eyes bore into you and yet again you found your heart racing “Because seeing you injured and in pain infuriated me. Someone hurt you and had you not already lived a life filled with resiliency those injuries may very well have been life threatening. If spilling some of my blood spares you pain I'll gladly do it however many times it's necessary”

You swallowed hard before saying “Still doesn't answer why. I'm nothing special. I could be replaced a thousand times over” he shook his head, his fingers lightly lifting your chin where you had no choice but to look him square in the eye. His eyes flicked down to your lips as he spoke “I have met many people who may have been expandable, you however are not. That's why I healed you, there was no other option”

Was it lust, attraction or pure stupidity that made you close the space between you and him? The moment your lips brushed against his you could feel the tension that had long since hung in the air between the two of you threaten to burst.

One of his hands went to the back of your head holding you in place while his other went to your hip, fingertips almost bruising with how close he pulled you to him. Your hands went to his shoulders, trying to find something to ground yourself as heat washed straight through you. A light moan fell from your lips into his as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, tongue dancing across yours.

Your fingers found the back of his head, desperately tugging at the carefully styled locks. He groaned into your mouth and you felt a fresh wave of desire hit you. His hands went down to your thighs easily lifting you into his arms. You gladly wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking free from his lips even if your lungs were beginning to burn with the need for air.

He moved across the room, bracing your back against one of the mats that lined the wall as he broke free from your lips. Your chest was heaving as he continued his assault down your jaw to your neck. You felt your heart jump when he gently nipped at the sensitive flesh of your neck, causing your back to arch off the wall pushing you into him which caused his body to react,he shifted his hips against yours. The feeling alone was enough to pull a deep moan from you. Your hands went under his jacket, fingers digging into his shoulders through the soft material of his shirt.

The sound of two throats clearing causing you and Elijah to break away from each other. You glanced over his shoulder to see Rebekah and Marcel standing in the entryway of the gym. “I had no clue you two were talking again” Rebekah greeted cheerfully as if she hadn't just walked in on you and one of her brothers.

You groaned lightly as Elijah buried his face in the skin at the bend of your neck. Seeing him so damn disheveled and knowing you were the cause was enough to make any woman have a strange surge of pride. You grinned at Rebekah over his shoulder before he leaned up to place a chaste kiss to your lips before lowering you to the ground.

Both of you quickly rearranged whatever clothing was out of place before turning to face the newcomers. Rebekah was barely containing her laughter. “I'll see you at nine?” You asked and he smirked slightly “I'll see you at nine”

You watched him walk out and looked at Rebekah “Not a word” Marcel chuckled as he walked further into the gym “Never thought I'd see Elijah so worked up over a human and he picks a hunter”

Rebekah shook her head at Marcel then looked back at you “So I'm assuming that display means you're now dating my brother?” You shrugged, still a little dazed “I have a date with him” she smiled brightly “Brilliant. Let's go shopping for you a new outfit then”

Home

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[pvri-more]

Love Within a Forlorn World: Stay With Me Baby.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood & physical shock. Suggestive language. Dealing with serious injury. Italics are your memories. Overall very emotional 😬

Word Count: 2,644

A/N: oof, I hope this chapter is good lol & I hope you still have your tissues from last chapter! A heads up, chapter 8 will be the final chapter to this story (I’m almost positive lol). Happy New Year! Stay safe and enjoy!

————

Dusk was fading and so were you.

Wanda was driving at a speed she’s never gone before. The bare forests that border the roads are flying by in surrealist blurs, yet it still felt like the car wasn’t even moving. It was like one of those nightmares where you’re running and running but the hallway just keeps getting longer and darker.

Everything was wet and cold and scary and Wanda had a hard time keeping focus while her love sat in the passenger seat gripping onto her last shred of strength. The most beautiful soul she’s ever known was suffering, fighting for her life and all she could do right now was drive and repeat comforting words to keep you calm. To keep herself calm.

You didn’t know if it was from the cold weather or if it was the consequences of your actions finally taking the reigns but you were starting to get chills. And your skin ... it was starting to get clammy while your breathing was growing increasingly shallow. It hurt so bad.

Internally your panic grew and Wanda, knowing you so well, senses something shifting. With her quivering voice she urges “What’s going on baby? Talk to me.” She has to keep you talking, keep you alert, anything to keep you from giving in.

“I’m cold” you wined, “and I can’t-“ you take a shaky breath in, “it’s getting harder to breathe.”

Wanda cusses under her breath. “try and stay calm y/n/n. I know it feels impossible but you have to try and keep your heart rate steady.”

You knew she was right, so you did what you always did to ease yourself out of a panic attack. You thought of Wanda.

Naturally reaching for your hand, Wanda is thrown back by the amount of emotion you’re feeding off. For a second she enters your mind to see all your shared moments flickering by in snapshots.

You thought of everything. The little things, like the way Wanda would sneak up behind you, snake her arms around your waist and place a chaste peck to your cheek at random. How her beautiful green eyes looked into your soul like she’s always known you. The way her laugh, especially if you were the cause of it, made you feel the way birds singing on a sunny summer morning makes you feel, peaceful and alive. And the way you’d get lost in every conversation. From the loopy late night rambles to the talking on another off of a theoretical ledge.

You retraced all the spontaneous dances in the living room. The fresh innocence of first one when your budding mutual feelings were hidden in shyness, all the way to the ones that eventually led to dizzy, irresistible kisses. Such delicate kisses that over time morphed into passionate ones that were impossible to break apart from when you’d inevitably make your way upstairs into one of your bedrooms in a heavenly swirl of craving and attraction.

You thought of the big things. Like how you’d dissolve into each other, your natural bodies connecting like long lost puzzle pieces in the comfort of your now shared bed. As if your whole life, you were unknowingly searching for each other.

Wanda was always so gentle. Behind that hard exterior there was a soft spot for you. During those love filled nights there was a perfect balance of lust that would render you speechless and a tenderness that let you know deep in your bones that you were completely loved.

You thought of every single I love you.

Whether it was said in those moments of pure joy and laughter, tangled up between the sheets or said in the depths of a dark, emotional chasm both of you sometimes found yourselves in, all of them meant everything to you.

Coming back to reality, you laid your eyes on Wanda’s profile. You knew she saw inside your head. “I love you” you uttered weakly. You felt the unbearable need to tell her. Just in case.

Wanda had to look up to try and clear her vision from the endless stream of tears. Her throat was so tight she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to respond. “Don’t.” She shook her head not wanting to even acknowledge the possibility that that could be your last I love you. And she couldn’t bring herself to say it back because if she did, that meant she was giving up and she was never, ever giving up. “We’re almost home, just keep holding on for me.”

You rolled your head the other way, staring outside the window with lackluster eyes. “This isn’t your fault” you added. You knew Wanda well enough to know a part of her blames herself. She stayed silent.

Steadying her voice for a second so she could finally speak, she adds, “You’re gonna be alright. I told you I’d hold you through the end of the world remember?and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” She reassured you, her voice trembling as she restated her previous oath to you.

“I’m gonna get you home, use the solution and when you’re all healed up and this shitty war is over, we’re gonna go on that roadtrip.” There was only a couple more streets to go and unlike her unsteady voice, her hands were wrapped so tightly on the steering wheel that she was sure it would crumble beneath her grip.

Wanda’s voice cracks as she continues giving you her word “We’re gonna get out of here just like we talked about. I’m gonna take you on real dates to beautiful places. We’ll go anywhere and everywhere and we’ll take so many photos of our happy moments that we won’t always have to cry when we look through our saved stack. It’s gonna be me and you always, I promise.”

Through all the pain, you still managed a subtle, genuine smile at the idea. You couldn’t explain it but every time Wanda said ‘I promise’ there was a serenity that washed over you. Even from that first night, when she was still a stranger, you just believed her. You wanted your future and you wanted it with Wanda and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to fight for it.

“Okay.” You answered.

————

Pulling into the driveway Wanda turned the car off, grabbed the backpack full of food and supplies, threw it on and ran to your side, gently pulling you out and carrying you into the house.

It was all slow motion. Just like the car ride Wanda felt like her feet were stuck in quicksand. It was as if she had weights wrapped around her ankles and no matter the force, she couldn’t go as fast as she wanted to. Her tunnel vision and her adrenaline deadened the sounds around her. By the grace of god there was no other Chitauri in sight but she knew it wouldn’t be long.

The basement of the house was set up almost like a large safe room, specifically in preparation for a situation like this where you’d need to bunker down.

Wanda got you into the house just as you were becoming extremely lightheaded. This whole time you were afraid to look at the towel you held against the side of your abdomen, afraid to see the amount of blood loss but you were sure feeling it now.

Wanda kicks the door shut behind her and rushes you down the basement steps. You weren’t saying anything, just loosely clinging onto Wanda because it was all you could physically do. “Stay with me sweetheart. It’s right down here.”

Wanda sat you down on the floor near the small bathroom so she could have easy access to the sink and any medical supplies she needed. During her time with the Avengers she learned a few things about caring for wounds. How to clean them and how and when to remove a foreign object in the body. Just like she had to do now.

Quickly grabbing the “magic spray” as Tony Stark called it, Wanda planted herself in front of you and took your hand, your shared, soothing habit.

Both her knees were settled on both sides of the leg closest to your injury. She reaches for the bloody rag and takes it from your hands, exposing the incision. Her heart fell to her stomach once again.

The arrow must’ve lost momentum after she killed the one who threw it because it itself wasn’t deep enough to take survival off the table, but it was the after effects that could take you. Had that Chitauri been able to throw it at it’s full strength, and had it hit any critical spot, whoever it would’ve hit would’ve been dead in less than a minute.

But you were already in shock, struggling to keep regulated breaths and the blood loss was starting to take affect on your alertness so Wanda had to act now. “I’m gonna pull it out now, alright?”

You nodded. At this point the agonizing pain that coursed through your body was now just a numbness enveloping every inch of your body. You could barely keep your eyes open but you were too scared to close them.

“Keep your eyes on me, okay love? It’s gonna hurt but just keep your eyes on me and it’ll be over in a second.” As Wanda was telling you what to do, she simultaneously wrapped her hand around the small amount of exposed metal from the head of the arrow. She tugged on it to test out how smooth it could come out and you winced as a result. “You’re okay” she said sweetly. She just kept repeating that over and over as she pulled it out, faster this time.

You cried out in a gut-wrenching combination of a scream and a sob as the object finally exited your body. Wanda never wanted to hear it again.

Wasting no time, Wanda grabs the spray and applies it directly to the wound, watching in fear and anticipation as it heals it up .... just like magic. It worked. You were going to be okay.

Closing her eyes in inexplicable relief, she sends a silent thank you to Tony for creating the only thing that could save your life.

As the adrenaline fades, Wanda’s mind catches up with her body and suddenly tears are flooding her eyes at the fact she was so close to losing you. The relief, the fear, the despair, every emotion she tried so hard to bury so she could keep her focus, it all came crashing in at once as she found herself coming down from her own state of shock and all she wanted to do was hold you.

Careful not to hurt your sore body, she takes one hand to the back of your head, her fingers tangled in your hair and scooped the other under your arm and around your back. Feeling the same amount of relief, you tuck your face into her neck and lay your arms loosely around her lower back, still too weak to do much else.

“Oh my god” Wanda weeped into your shoulder. You could feel her tears soaking through your shirt and your eyes shortly followed suit. The two of you just sat there, falling into each other.

“I’m so sorry” Wanda choked out. She was sorry that she couldn’t keep you completely out of harms way like she promised. She was sorry that you two even had to be in that situation at all. She was sorry you had to go through all that pain and all that anguish. She felt it should’ve been her instead of you. You were too precious to be going through this.

There was no reason for her to be sorry. You made the choice and you’d do it again if it meant keeping her safe. Besides, “you saved my life Wanda, twice. I owe you everything.” Your muffled words vibrated against her skin, an action that confirmed you were in fact, still here.

————

Some time passed quietly.

Despite the healing wound, your body was still recovering from the trauma and it was going to take time before you were back to normal health. You stayed in your position, resting as Wanda gathered things that made you more comfortable. She applied treatments to the lesion in order to prevent infection. You two remained in a comfortable silence, only the sounds of Wanda’s actions as she walked back and forth from you to the bathroom, unwrapping gauze, running the sink and shuffling through the medicine cabinet.

Slowly but surely your breathing began to stabilize and your body and mind came back into focus, at least enough to carry on a conversation. It blew your mind what a simple spray just did.

“Here, drink some water.” Wanda handed you the glass and repositioned herself in front of you, quietly tending to the final touches necessary to secure your side. You lifted the water to your lips and took scattered sips.

At the same time you place the glass down on the ground next to you, Wanda pulled your shirt back down, finished with the task. She rests her hand on your thigh, signaling it was over and brings her eyes to yours. Overwhelmed by the days events, all you two can do is look at each other.

Wanda brings her hand to your face and tucks the damp, loose strands of hairs behind your ear. Knowing you were stable now she decides to ask you what she just couldn’t comprehend.

“Why did you do it?” She asks gently, still brushing her fingers over your hair and rubbing soothing lines on your temple with her thumb.

“You saved me, it was my turn.” You said it like it was as clear as day, because to you it was. Wanda took you in when technically she didn’t even have to come up to you in the first place and everything that came after her asking you to stay has been more than you could’ve ever wished for.

“When you first met me, I was fully allowing my anxiety to control me. I had nothing and I was completely smothered in fear. Until I met you.” You mimicked her actions by brushing her hair behind her ear. “And that’s the thing about you Wanda” you tilted your head with a smirk, “you make me better. You showed me what I couldn’t see in myself. You make me believe that I actually am strong enough to handle this life and you help me see that somewhere deep inside, I can be brave.”

Wanda’s tears returned, thankful that this time they were happy tears. “And because of all that training you taught me, I saw what was going to happen before it did. I couldn’t let you die Wanda, it’s as simple as that.”

Overwhelmed by your confession, Wanda feels like she can’t love you any more than she does right now. The fact that you were willing to give your life for her was unfathomable, yet, she would’ve done the same for you. That’s what made you two kindreds spirits.

Shaking her head in awe, Wanda softly speaks. “I don’t deserve you.” Giving her a lighthearted stern look, you disagree, “you deserve the whoooole world my angel.”

With her cute little giggle, Wanda peppers you with kisses. From your forehead to your cheeks, then to your ear where she whispers, “I love you so much. Don’t you ever do that again.” You just breathe out a laugh.

Cupping both sides of your face she crashes her lips with yours in such feverish need. She never wants to lose this feeling. Your lips, your touch ... you.

“I love you.” You say the moment you get a break before returning your lips to hers.

————

Chapter 8: The End

Taglist: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @wandavisionmoot, @alexia-rmks, @impossibleliv1031

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: both non-sexual and sexual pet play, dom!jimin, sub!jk, sub!tae, handjob, yoongi and yn pretending like they don't wanna suck the souls out of each other, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation

A/N: welcome back to my best boys ;;;;-; this chapter is being cross-posted from ao3. in the future i'll try and upload in both places at the same time!

DAY TWENTY-THREE

It’s two blocks of pure ice that wake Taehyung up that Tuesday morning. Before he’s even really coherent, he’s hissing and tucking into a ball away from the cold.

“Puppy, shh, it’s just me.”

Even as those chilled items that Tae can tentatively identify as feet tuck between his bare legs, he goes lax and accepts the body that wraps around his curled back. “Minnie,” he mumbles, and it’s so quiet that the older boy probably doesn’t hear, but his grip tightens anyway. “‘What time ‘s it?”

“Early, I’m sorry.” Jimin’s voice, unlike his thawing toes, blows warm across the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Missed you.”

A sleepy smile of bliss crosses Taehyung’s face for exactly three seconds, at which point he recalls the fact that he didn’t go to sleep alone tonight. Shooting up so quickly that his shoulder catches Jimin’s chin, Taehyung peels his eyes open to see Jungkook, awkwardly hugging a pillow to his chest with his legs crossed.

He bites his lip, avoiding their gazes. “Sorry, I, uh, don’t mean to disturb.”

“Shoot.” Jimin rubs his face blearily. “I didn’t see you there, Jungkookie. I should go-”

“No, no, stay,” Taehyung begs hurriedly, launching himself back onto the mattress and wiggling himself back into the curve of Jimin’s front. “Jungkook, um, you can come cuddle too if you want. I like being middle spoon.”

The youngest gazes back and forth at them, never resting long enough for eye contact. His indecision is palpable, but there’s a pleased glimmer too. “Is that...okay with Jimin-hyung? I don’t wanna intrude.”

Jimin’s voice is soft, his eyes slipping closed as he eases his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, arms snaking around his torso. “You can be a part of us too, Jungkookie.”

The words are perhaps more intimate than Jimin even realises, and in the vulnerable setting of a bed in the early morning hours, Jungkook’s hard swallow is audible, before he slowly puts the pillow aside and tucks his feet under the covers, slipping down. It’s not until Taehyung’s arm is his headrest and the other one provides a comforting weight low on his hips that he speaks up again. “Do you… do you mean that just for now, or… Or for good?”

“What do you think, Minnie?” Taehyung’s fingertips trace lazily over the bare skin that’s exposed by Jungkook’s shirt riding up. “Can we keep him?”

Jimin hums in affirmation. He’s just about asleep again, but Taehyung can feel his pleased smile against his shoulder. “Of course we can, puppy.”

The repeated nickname causes Taehyung’s heart to twitch just as his dick does. It’s no less endearing and special, but Jungkook is still perfectly awake and right there, and it feels a little confronting.

But Jungkook just chuckles, twisting around in Taehyung’s slack embrace to face him, eyes bright. “If you’re a puppy, what am I?”

Taehyung’s careful not to jostle Jimin. He’s begun snoring, nothing more audible than regular snuffling, but still Tae doesn’t want to disturb that rest. “What do you mean, Jungkookie?”

He scrunches his nose, thinking away. “Well, there’s Minnie and there’s puppy. I want a cute nickname too if I’m gonna be - you know - with you guys.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung begins haltingly, “Jimin calls me puppy because… God, it feels silly saying it out loud. He calls me puppy because sometimes when we’re together I go into puppyspace. You know; like petplay.”

“That’s not silly,” Jungkook says reflexively, even as his eyes widen and lips part. “What’s it like?”

“Puppyspace?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook nods eagerly, and the motion is transferred through Tae where they connect, making Jimin grunt and bury his nose deeper into the crook of his neck. “It’s so peaceful, Jungkookie. He takes care of me so I don’t have to think. I can nap and cuddle and play, without all of the stresses of life. It feels all warm and cosy, you know? I love it.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in wonder, his fingers finding their way to Taehyung’s worn black sleepshirt, fiddling with the hem. “Can I try? How do you… how do you know if you can do it?”

Behind Taehyung, Jimin lets out a half-asleep groan, his nose pressing against the taller one’s back. “Of course you can try. Let’s just sleep for now, though? I’m sure Minnie can play with both of us later.”

It’s that promise that allows Jungkook to settle, nodding with a tentative hum and shifting down so that his head can rest in the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung falls back under like this, with a heartbeat thrumming against his back and soft, even breaths tickling his bared shoulder.

--

“Hobi?”

Hoseok pauses, frothed toothbrush clamped between his teeth. “Mmng?”

“I don’t-” you cut yourself off, clearing your throat to dislodge the thickness that distorts your voice. “Can we not tell them?”

He bends over to quickly spit out the majority of toothpaste, but when he stands upright to face you again there’s a smear on his chin. “Tell them what?”

You blink. “Last night. I just… I don’t want them to- to pity me or treat me like I’m glass or anything. I know it won’t happen again, it was just…” Shrugging hopelessly, you give up on trying to put words to it. “I don’t know.”

The dom remains silent for a few moments, lips pursed in thought. “The chicken must have been bad,” he concludes.

Bewildered, you cock your head to the side. “Huh? What chicken?”

“You and I went out for dinner at this fried chicken place, but when you got home last night it made you sick. That’s why you aren’t quite yourself today. I’ll get Yoongi-hyung to make some hangover soup.” His eyes are warm, pulling you into a comforting one-armed hug. “Just the chicken, that’s all. Yeah?”

You swallow down the swell of gratitude and instead bury yourself into his safe embrace. “Yeah. That’s all.”

To his credit, Yoongi doesn’t ask questions, pushing all his concern into his cooking. The doctor all but feeds you himself, hovering with a furrowed brow and a napkin. Strangely enough, his fussing goes a long way in cheering you up, and you let the events of yesterday wash away with the salty broth.

Hoseok hangs around for a while before going down to do some laundry, Namjoon briefly jumps in to steal a spoonful directly from the pan, eyes never leaving the novel he’s holding open with a single hand. Even Jungkook stumbles in blearily at one point, nose first, requesting an extra two bowls for Jimin and Taehyung as well.

You’re onto your second serving by the time it’s just Yoongi and you. He’s pulled up a chair beside you, cradling a coffee. “I got a text this morning, you know,” he begins gently. “I can ignore it if you’re not up to it.”

It takes you a moment to process his words, recalling Sejin’s instructions the day prior. “It’s your day, then?” He nods silently, scanning you for any reaction. You hum, spoon swirling lazily in the dregs of your breakfast. “I’m up to it,” you answer finally, “if you are.”

“Always,” Yoongi replies immediately, voice bared and soft. His hand passes over yours, squeezing briefly, before he stands up and clears the bowls from the table. “Aspirin is in the pantry if you need it, blue container.”

You give him your thanks, left alone as he disappears upstairs.

Grabbing a glass and pouring yourself some water, you track down the aspirin and take out two tablets, grimacing as the bitterness sticks to your tongue. While you may not actually be sick, a headache was beginning to bloom between your brows.

So much had happened in the past few days, you almost felt like you’d gotten whiplash. The early days of lounging around the house and chasing pleasure seemed so distant. Feelings tangled things up more each day, unraveling quicker than you can get a hold on them.

It wasn’t just you, either. You saw the way the guys looked at each other, how gentle they were, how thoughtful. It was in the little things. Jungkook’s laundry pile started featuring clothes from the other maknaes; Namjoon and Hoseok always sat so close together, even when there was room on the couch; Yoongi had started giving the others bigger portions when he cooked, even as his stayed the same. And Jin…

You startle when a door opens, glass almost slipping from your hands. It’s the unfilmed room across the stairs. You frown as a tall figure slips out, swamped in a massive pink hoodie that you’d never seen in the house before. A sleeve-covered hand reaches up to rub under the hood, dark hair poking out. Your breath catches. Jin…

He moves across the hall gingerly like his body aches, hand never leaving his face as he grumbles sleepily. For a split second, your mind entertains the thought of sprinting past before he sees you, avoiding the conflict that is no doubt upon you.

But only for a split second. Because the only thing worse than being confronted by him is not seeing him at all. You wait, instead, until he rolls his shoulders back, tipping his face to the ceiling to stretch out his spine. The hood falls back, exposing a serious case of bedhead, tired eyes, and sallow skin. But it’s Jin nonetheless, beautiful despite his apparent exhaustion, and your heart breaks again for being the one to cause this.

He notices you when his head comes back down from the stretch, and were you not in such despair you may have cracked a smile at the way he jumps. “Y/n…” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

Your mouth goes dry. Even if it wasn’t you don’t know what to say, simply bracing yourself for anger.

He doesn’t stiffen his features, however, simply watching you with melancholy eyes. “You look sad,” he says weakly.

Your heart is racing a hundred beats a second at just hearing him speak to you, and it takes you that much time just to process his words, eyes pricking sharply. “I am sad,” you reply honestly, blinking the wetness away. “You look tired,” you whisper in return.

His bottom lip trembles, before flattening tightly. Instead of responding verbally, he just nods.

The two of you sit in that silence for a while. Jin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes unfocused as they slip past you. You think you might be sick with the way your stomach flips.

Finally, you can’t stand the silence. “Are you still mad at-” you begin, but your words die in your throat as you’re enveloped tightly by him, clutching you so close that your chest constricts. The tensed breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a sob, and your arms fly up to hug him back, just as tightly.

There’s nothing more than just a simple hug, but your heart is still full, almost overwhelmed by the cathartic relief of having him close to you again, his chin resting on the crown of your head, his hands rubbing circles on your back, the gentle sway as he rocks you in the hold.

It lasts for an eternity too short, and when he pulls away you feel untethered, already pining for that contact again.

His eyes are swimming, though you see the way he tightens his jaw to hold it back. “I’m devastated,” he admits, “but I miss you too much to ice you out like this. I need time but god, I don’t want space. Can you give me time?”

You’re nodding hastily, sniffing as your nose threatens to run. “Of course, Jin. I’ll be here. I… I think I-”

“Don’t-” he interrupts sharply, sucking in a shaky breath. “Don’t let now be the first time we say it. Later,” he promises.

We. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps, electricity thrumming along your nerves. You let that word settle you, repeating it in your head as Jin sends you a sad smile - but a smile nonetheless - and takes his leave, disappearing upstairs.

You decide to take a bath, in the end, letting yourself soak in the thought of “we” a little longer.

--

“So, what, we start barking? Chew on some sticks?”

Taehyung colours violently and Jimin sends Jungkook a sharp glare in rebuke. “Say less,” he scolds the youngest, before reaching up to run his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, breaking up the curls. “We just ease into it. Taehyung doesn’t use it for humiliation or anything like that, he just likes being taken care of. Isn’t that right, pup?”

Taehyung hums, eyes already fluttering as he leans his head into Jimin’s palm. The three of them had migrated onto Taehyung’s now-made bed after their breakfast after Jungkook once again mentioned wanting to try petplay.

Significantly larger than Jimin, Taehyung has to awkwardly shuffle down the mattress further to rest his head in Jimin’s lap, but Jungkook can immediately see the lines of stress that melt away once he does so. Jimin smooths his hand down to cup the younger’s chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh as if he were patting a sleepy dog.

“You’ll just watch for now,” Jimin instructs Jungkook without removing his gaze from Taehyung, “and if it feels right, you can join in. There are no expectations and no rules, only to respect the process and don’t disrupt Tae’s petspace. Got it?”

Jungkook swallows as Jimin chooses that point to lift his steeled gaze, brows high as he waits for Jungkook to agree. “Got it,” the youngest confirms. He gets comfy, tucking his feet under him and leaning up against the pillows.

“Such a lucky boy,” the dom begins with his voice like melted sugar. “Dogs aren’t meant to be up on the furniture. But you’ve been good lately, so I thought I’d treat you.”

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed. He shuffles slightly, stretching one leg out until his ankle dangles off the edge of the mattress, but doesn’t audibly respond.

Jimin chuckles fondly through his nose, hand running down to rub up and down Taehyung’s clothed tummy, which is now facing upwards. “Oh, pup,” he coos, “you must be tired after the big walk. How about we rest for a bit, and we can play later?” Instead of waiting for a response, the dom just gasps like he’s forgotten something important. “Oh! Your collar! I must’ve taken it off when I took off the leash. Never mind; Jungkook, dear, could you get me the brush and collar out of the bedside table? Bottom drawer.”

It feels like the very particles in the air shift when Jungkook is ripped away from the observer role and into an active participant. He swallows away the dryness in his throat to little avail and nods, fumbling with the drawer handle and pulling out a barely-used hairbrush and velvet dog collar. “These?” he asks redundantly, nerves settling when Jimin gives him a pleased smile and holds out his hand.

“Alright, little puppy,” Jimin announces, his voice lilting easily back into the candyfloss tone that all owners used with their pets. “Let’s give you a brush before we put your collar back on. I don’t want your coat getting matted.”

Taehyung gives a small, throaty hum and lifts himself laboriously up onto his elbows, tipping his head up to his master. Jimin pats his cheek warmly and calls him a good boy, and Jungkook gets a front row seat to the beautiful sight of a sleepy, lusty Kim Taehyung going pink in the face, a shy smile twitching his lip.

‘Brushing his coat’ is just brushing his hair, but even Jungkook can see that the technique is slightly different. Jimin does it slowly, methodically, line by line from the front to the back, then reaching around to the nape of his neck to give it a good brushing there - Taehyung all but shivers at each swoop of the brush - even folding down each ear when he goes past. Watching it is nothing short of mesmerising, and Jungkook feels his spine tingle, wanting to feel it too.

Was it too soon to join? He could always ask for the brush later, he decided. Though even as he reached that conclusion, the thought was slipping out of his mind sand through fingers, hazier and hazier the more he listened to Jimin’s lull tone and watched his patient movements.

“There we go,” the dom whispers, passing the brush over one last time to settle all the curls in their rightful place, “much better now. Chin up, pup; time for your collar.”

Taehyung’s chin lifts the minutest of degrees. Jimin waits for a moment, but the brown-haired boy looks almost like he’s falling asleep on the spot, swaying slightly as his elbows prop him up.

“Silly me,” Jimin tuts with a smile, reaching out to manually adjust Taehyung how he wants him. “Doggies can’t understand human words, can they?” Like a proud parent, he turns to Jungkook, grin widening as he sees the state the boy is in. “I am trying to teach Tae-tae some commands. Sit, lie down, wait. Suck. He’s getting better.”

With that, the dom grabs the collar off the duvet and fiddles with the buckle, undoing it so that he can wrap it carefully around Taehyung’s neck. The process reminds Jungkook much of what happened when his parents put a collar on his childhood dog: slipping a finger under the material to test how snug it was, shifting it around until the small dangling pendant was to the front, giving it a little tug to ensure the buckle was on right.

At the gentle tug, Taehyung practically topples, going lax with his face down on Jimin’s thigh and snuggling down, breaths even. Jimin doesn’t comment on it, simply humming in acknowledgement and returning to softly stroking his back and shoulders. But he does glance over to Jungkook again, eyes glinting. “Do you wanna come a little closer, hm?”

At the invitation, Jungkook almost trips himself scooting over, wrapping his arms around one of Jimin’s and holding it to his chest. Seeing the tender moment shared between Taehyung and Jimin had made him feel positively touch-starved, desperate to feel some of that sweet attention.

Jimin’s eyes widen in bemusement before twisting his hand in Jungkook’s grip and giving his stomach a little scratch. “Goodness me, little energizer bunny, huh?”

Jungkook whines, recognising that higher-pitched voice. He was being talked to like a pet, and the thought made his insides hot. He presses his face against Jimin’s shoulder, feeling the heat on his skin there too.

“No need to get all shy on me now, bun,” Jimin teases. “I’ve already seen that little friend in your pants. Well, I suppose he’s not that little.”

Jungkook tightens his arms around Jimin’s one, wanting to rock his hips up to feel some friction. He just squirms instead, hoping his need is answered. “Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin sucks in a breath. “Can this bunny speak, hm?”

Jungkook blinks, the furnace inside him cooling for a moment. “Am I not… supposed to?”

“I’m not telling you off, I’m asking,” Jimin explains softly, cocking his head down at the potentially-sleeping Taehyung in his lap. “Tae-tae likes to be non-verbal. It’s just preference. Would you rather keep speaking?”

After a moment of thought, Jungkook nods, then props his chin up, sending Jimin his best puppy eyes. “Minnie, I need you,” he pleads in a small voice, writhing against him again.

Jungkook’s fingers curl when Jimin’s hand dips lower suddenly, grasping his length from over the fabric of his sleep shorts. The pleasure is like a bolt that shocks his whole body, and when Jimin strokes him once, the texture of the fabric increasing the friction, the guttural sound that falls from his lips is more animal than human.

Jimin just smiles placidly, patting the throbbing heat once. “Does it hurt, bun? Want me to make it go away?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook’s breath is shallow with excitement. This feels like new territory, relying fully on Jimin to relieve the ache, too helpless, too stupid to do anything about it himself, just a dumb bunny with a generous owner.

“You’re drooling, bun,” Jimin points out, voice raspy with arousal. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook feels fingers at the elastic band of his shorts before Jimin withdraws. He whines, a pout threatening to form, but the dom just runs his fingers and palm over Jungkook’s mouth and chin. Then, when his hand delves in and grips Jungkook, he’s slick with Jungkook’s own drool, the slide wet and hot and electric.

He moans, but saliva won’t stop gathering in the hollows of his mouth. It’s like it’s impossible to close it at all, every firm, purposeful stroke making it harder to do that basic function.

“Noisy boy,” Jimin scolds, though there’s no venom to his tone. “You might wake the puppy up, bun.”

With a strangled groan, Jungkook’s head flops down, his teeth banging against Jimin’s shoulder. A thought floats across his dazed mind, of pressing his teeth into skin, lovebites to colour the bronze.

But his teeth don’t sink into flesh. Fabric fills his mouth. Jimin’s shirt. His teeth don’t stop, though. On the contrary, he chews on the cotton, letting it muffle the sounds he can’t help but make.

“Oh, good boy,” Jimin praises warmly, his hand speeding up mercilessly to pitch Jungkook over the edge. There’s no foreplay, no kisses or teasing touches. His hard cock is a problem that his master is kind enough to solve, that Minnie-hyung is making go away, and he won’t stop until his bunny has finally-

When Jungkook comes, his whole body feels it like an earthquake. Every muscle jerks, pulses so that his toes curl and his core trembles, the drool soaking the fabric of Jimin’s shirt now until he feels it run down his own neck, blubbering through the waves of it.

Jimin slows down after the first burst of cum, but doesn’t stop, only tightening his grip like he’s milking every last drop out.

Once the tides of pleasure have dipped back down again, Jungkook goes boneless, whimpering until the hand finally leaves his softening, oversensitive cock.

He’s panting, all of his body weight on Jimin to stay upright, and it takes a few moments for his senses to properly return to him, his heart still beating erratically in his chest. “Oh, fuck.”

Jimin giggles elfishly, before reaching up to tap on Jungkook’s bottom lip with wet fingers. “You made such a mess, little bunny. Clean it up, now.”

Jungkook welcomes the digits, blinking blearily as the bitter tang of his own cum fills his mouth. He sucks Jimin’s fingers clean two at a time, swirling his tongue between them dutifully. It isn’t until he’s done and Jimin is praising him that he restores enough energy to sit up again.

Across from him, Jimin peels the soaking wet sleeve of his shirt off his shoulder, laughing softly in good humour even as his brows furrow at the weird feeling. Before Jungkook can offer up an apology, Jimin is stripping it off entirely, chucking it away and rubbing at his now-bared chest. “Much better,” he muses to himself. After a moment of letting Jungkook clear his head, Jimin turns to him, his dry hand returning to lazily card through Taehyung’s curls. “How was it, Jungkook?”

“Uh,” Jungkook replies eloquently, feeling the way his cock still throbs every few seconds in aftershocks. “Uh.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jimin states proudly, before sending Jungkook a serious gaze. “We’ll talk later, yeah? When your dick isn’t hanging out.”

Jungkook flushes, scrambles to tuck himself away, and the movement jostles the bed enough that Taehyung groans, craning his neck up with bleary eyes and rumpled hair.

The two sitting on the bed go silent. Jimin cocks his head to the side and cups Taehyung’s cheek. “Were you- Tae-tae, did you just have a nap in the middle of the scene?”

Taehyung beams sleepily, eyes still lidded. “Mm.”

“Tae! Are you out of petspace now?”

“Think so.” With a dramatically loud cry, Taehyung reaches an arm up into a deep, arching stretch, rubbing at his eyes once he’s done. “Mm, yeah, definitely. My foot has kinda gone dead too.”

As Taehyung sits up to rub at his foot, pressing his thumbs into the muscle, Jimin’s shoulders sink with a deep pout. “Tae-tae,” he whines again, “you know I like playing with puppy.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung replies easily, though it doesn’t sound like he is in the slightest, “I guess I just wanted to destress more than anything. I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

Jimin’s face softens, his complaints dissolved at Taehyung’s words. Without a verbal reply, he just reaches out, hooks his finger on the neckline of Taehyung’s shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss, humming into it slightly.

The movements, the touches are so natural and intimate that Jungkook feels like he’s intruding. It only lasts a moment before they break apart to go shower, but it’s enough time to sear the sight behind Jungkook’s eyelids. Maybe he’d been allowed to join them in their scenes, even cuddle with them, but he wasn’t a part of that bond that tied Jimin and Taehyung so strongly together. The thought sinks in his stomach, and he decides to skip the shower, getting dressed instead for a long workout downstairs.

--

When you knock on his door, Yoongi is at his desk, a pair of black-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He glances up, an eyebrow lifting in mild surprise.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You muffle a smile at his domestic getup - a grey t-shirt hangs off, far too big for him but outlining his chest and strong shoulders nonetheless, and his long black sweatpants all but cover his bare feet, toes tapping the carpet unconsciously as he waits for your reply. “I’ve been informed that today is your day.”

“Ah, checking in to the Fuck Hotel, I see,” he quips casually, slipping his glasses of and shutting the lid of the laptop he was working on. “We do have one vacancy.”

“Is that so?” you say, unable to stop your grin as he stands up from his office chair and rolls his head back like an athlete warming up.

“Comes with a continental breakfast,” he assures, before ducking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “God, hyung is becoming a bad influence on my sense of humour.” With slightly pink cheeks, he stretches out a hand towards you, before jerking it back and freezing, fingers curled and tensed. “Wait. Shit.”

You frown, glancing down at yourself, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. “What is it?”

“Hm. I just remembered my prompt, is all.” He takes a step back with a thoughtful furrow of his brows, clenching his hands into fists and putting them behind himself. “Dammit, I was meant to think of a game plan but I got distracted sorting out- uh- client emails.”

“Was this a bad time?” you ask with a light laugh, even as you cast a guilty glance towards the laptop. A month in and he was still doing work?

“No! No, it’s fine, it’s just…” Wincing, Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck and takes another step back, gesturing down at himself, and at the messy work desk. “I’m not in sexy mode yet. I look like a stay-at-home dad trying to work out how to order groceries online while my toddler is finally having her 2pm nap.”

You pause before an incredulous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “Okay, first of all, I think stay-at-home dads are very sexy, and I happen to think that you are very sexy. Secondly, ‘her?’ Why was that whole analogy so specific?”

Yoongi huffs defensively, petulantly throwing himself down to sit on the bed with his legs splayed wide. “I used to have a life plan, okay? But that’s not relevant now. The point is, I haven’t worked out how to do a good scene. I don’t want to it to be disappointing. Or, god forbid, boring.”

Your frown just deepens. “It doesn’t need to be an elaborate setup, Yoongi. Just fuck me. Touch me, at least. I can’t believe we’re still both wearing all our clothes when I’ve been very explicit about my intentions.”

You don’t miss the wince that flutters across his face. “That’s kinda the issue. Touching you, I mean.”

“You don’t wanna touch me?”

“I-” Yoongi all but stomps his foot, teeth clenching in frustration. “Of course I fucking want to, but I have to stick to my prompt, Y/n.”

Your mouth drops open. “So your prompt is that we can’t even touch each other? Doesn’t exactly sound very appealing for a porn show.”

He clicks his tongue. “You can still touch me,” he corrects with a dry gaze.

Unconvinced, you narrow your eyes. “Isn’t that convenient?” you question rhetorically. “Gonna make me do all the work this week because you haven’t organised it in your planner yet, Doctor Min?”

He glares at your teasing tone. “Excuse me for trying to play the game properly.” You swallow as his eyes run down your body heavily, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “If I could touch you, trust me, I’d have you dripping by now.”

Your thighs tighten, but you force them not to move. The last thing you want him to know is that you’re just about dripping already. “Sounds to me like you’re just lazy.” He doesn’t react, watching you make up your mind. You suck in a breath to hype yourself. “If I walk away right now, you’ll get nothing. Not only will you lose your prompt, but you’ll be stuck with blue balls. But if you give in and fuck me already, then you’ll only lose the prompt.”

“Who says I’ll even have blue balls? I’m perfectly comfortable,” he fires back immediately, tipping his head to the side cockily.

“Oh, please,” you drawl, letting your eyes fall to the sizeable bulge beneath his sweatpants, “you aren’t that big soft. Don’t kid yourself. So do you wanna get off, or not?”

His gaze hardens to stone, jaw flexing. “I’m surprised you think I need you for that. Aside from the fact that there are six other people in this house, I brought a fleshlight from home for a reason.”

Now that is something you hadn’t expected him to say. You freeze from your spot in the doorway, feeling heat pulse between your legs. Your spark of resistance is quickly fading, overtaken by need, so you don’t hesitate in firing back while you can. “If you think your fleshlight is better than me, then that’s your loss. Enjoy the bunkbeds; I’m off to do what you’re too cowardly to.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he snips, one of his hands sneaking under his shirt to rub his lower abdomen, fingers slipping below the hem of his sweats. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Feeling like you’ve lost the argument (and a little too horny to care) you have your final say by slamming it, thumping your feet with every step down the hall to your room.

Once inside, it takes mere seconds to throw yourself onto your bed back-first and shove your hand down your pants. But then, before you even dip into your wetness, a thought strikes you.

Pulling your hand out and making your way to your desk, you use your other hand to clumsily type in your password, and open a browser. It doesn’t take long to navigate to the page with all the paid streams for your own show, and with a slight flush you select Yoongi’s bedroom, impatiently punching in your credit card details.

After an agonising wait, the payment is processed and you’re brought to a private livestreaming site, a single window open in front of you.

The angle itself is strange, making Yoongi’s room look larger than it was, but you’re surprised at just how high quality the video and sound is once you bring it to full screen and slip your headphones in your ears. Yoongi is hunched over his nightstand, and you can actually hear the wooden slide faintly in the background as he opens and closes a drawer, returning to his office chair with a seemingly-transparent fleshlight and a bottle of lube.

Something about watching him through a camera in the corner of his room feels so wrong, especially as he palms impatiently at the tent in his pants, uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount into the opening of the toy. You’d never been much of a voyeur - or, at least, so you thought - but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, blinding slipping your hands down your pants but over your underwear, simply pressing down on your clit to ease some of the crying need.

Oddly, the lube pours down and begins to drip out the other side, creating a dark patch on his clothed thigh. The audio picks up Yoongi cursing, and there’s no further preamble before he’s using one hand to hook down his sweatpants and kick them off to pool on the floor. The motion causes his cock to jerk up onto his stomach, leaving a smear of precum on his grey shirt, visible only by a few pixels of darker grey.

He scoots a little down the seat of the chair and hitches a leg up over one of the arms, eyes slipping closed as the hand not holding the dripping fleshlight grips his own cock, thumb pressing at the head.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans lowly, the sound running through your headphones and straight down between your legs. His brows are furrowed like it’s almost paining him, but he hovers the opening of the fleshlight over his tip as if he’s trying to hold back.

Slowly, he lowers the toy down one inch at a time, until the lube is drooling over his cock. Finally, the transparent toy slips down over his cock and his hips jump off the chair, his knuckles white on the arm of the chair and the fleshlight as he growls and lifts it back off again.

The sight of him intentionally teasing himself is too erotic for you to stay unmoving, and you find yourself burning up, losing the headphones for a moment to shuffle out of your own clothes. You hurry as much as you can, grimacing at your sopping panties, but by the time you’re back in your chair with nothing but a bra and tuning back into the stream, Yoongi’s not even focused on his toy anymore.

It sits propped up on his thigh, with two of his fingers lazily, almost absentmindedly thrusting deeply inside of it to keep it steady as the rest of him swivels in his chair to open his laptop again.

You frown and squint at the tiny screen on the stream. Rows of fuzzy squares stack up, and while you can’t be certain the phallic shapes of some of the miniscule images inside them make you think he was on a sex toy website.

He quickly opens a new tab, however, and your heart begins to beat nervously as a familiar page comes up. One you’d been on just earlier.

With bated breath you wait, hands grasping at the meat of your thighs and clothed breast to hold off on touching between your legs just yet. Yoongi navigates the Bangasm page, going through the same payment process you did.

It isn’t until you’re met with a miniature version of your own room on his screen that you realise what’s happened. And it’s when Yoongi squints and leans in closer, before turning to face the camera directly with a bewildered look, that you know you’ve been caught.

Frozen, you watch the on-screen, Yoongi look back and forth twice, before slowly scooting his chair back on an angle to the table, so that the laptop is in eyeshot even as his body is facing the camera fully.

Your mouth is dry, but the fleshlight he picks up again is wet, so wet that his fingers glisten, almost slipping off the toy entirely. He holds it tightly, transferring it to his dominant hand and teasing the top over his tip, biting hard on his lip.

The squeeze you have on your thigh is almost painful as your core burns, but you’re too stunned still to move, watching him dance the opening of the fleshlight over his cock, never dipping it inside.

With a twitching grin and lusty eyes, he glances towards the laptop. Your whole body feels hot as you glance over your shoulder to the camera in your room, before looking back at the screen. He’s not moving, chest visibly heaving even as he stares patiently at the computer screen.

He’s… waiting for you.

With one strangled breath, you tilt your chair away from the desk, adjusting your own laptop in a similar setup to him. Eyes locked on the stream, terrified you’ll miss a single moment of him indulging himself, you let your fingers uncurl from your inner thigh and trail them down, wasting no time in automatically locating your clit, massaging around the small bud.

Pleasure flows through you like hot water, down to your toes. After holding out for so long, after being so aroused for so long, the simplest touch has your knees weak and your head lolled back against the headrest.

On screen, Yoongi’s grin widens, and he rewards you by lowering the fleshlight, the clear silicone making way for the tip of his cock. He doesn’t stop there like last time, though; instead, he slowly but surely plunges it all the way down until it’s flush with his pelvis. Your eyes fly open when the flushed head pops out the other side, and Yoongi clearly enjoys it too judging by the way he curses and grips it tight, practically panting.

Without really intending, your fingers dip down and slip inside, two already. You barely feel a stretch with how wet you are. Although the feeling of something inside you is nice, you know your fingers just aren’t enough, especially with the angle of you slumped back in your chair.

So, you chance one look back at the screen - Yoongi is using the tip of one finger to spread his precum around the glossed tip of his cock, but his eyes are firmly locked onto you - and walk on shaky legs to your closet, where an unassuming (and so far unused) black silk bag lies amongst your shoes.

The amount of time it takes for you to duck into the bathroom and quickly wash the silicone vibrator you have with soapy water feels like an eternity, and by the time you hurry back it isn’t the toy that’s vibrating.

Frowning, you hesitantly answer the call that’s coming through on your phone from a familiar contact.

Yoongi’s voice immediately fills the room as the pixelated version on the screen rests his phone on the side of his desk, not jerking but twisting the fleshlight in slow arcs around his cock. “Couldn’t get enough of me, hm?”

“Says the one calling me,” you offer back lightly, switching onto speaker mode so that you can settle back in your chair, “enjoying the view?”

“A little too uneventful for me yet, sweetheart,” he teases, and his breathy groan is timed with the Yoongi on the stream lifting the fleshlight up a little and plunging it down again. “How about you put that toy in your pretty little pussy for me. For us.”

You feel your core pulse at the reminder that it wasn’t just Yoongi on the stream. Any number of anonymous strangers could be tuned in right now, seeing you with your legs spread.

The only way to cope is to lean into it instead of shying away. You slide the black silicone toy through your folds to slick it up, sighing with every light pass over your clit. Once it’s as wet as you are, you press the slightly bulbous tip down until it slips inside you, immediately shivering at the feeling.

The toy is small enough that you don’t need any special prep, yet big enough that it was satisfying, and curved just right. It had been your old reliable long before coming on the show, and there’s something strangely familiar and comforting about feeling it fill you out as you push it in deeper.

“Fuck, there we go,” Yoongi praises, and you hear the wet smacking noise of him snapping his hips up into the toy. “I may not be able to touch you, but you’ll still call my name when you cum for me.”

Your toes curl, and you’re no longer able to focus on the stream, letting your eyes fall shut and your ears tune in to his voice alone as you work the toy in and out of you.

He doesn’t waste any time in joining you, and the resulting sounds that fill your room are obscene, him making no effort to muffle the gravelled curses and moans, nor the wet thwack of silicone that gives away his movements.

The noise is somehow even more thrilling than the sight, and the feeling of his eyes on you encourages you to speed your hand up, even reaching down to desperately rub at your clit with the flat of your fingers, shivering at the wave of pleasure that wracks through your body.

It’s not long before you hear Yoongi’s voice turn guttural and the pace of the flesh light pick up frantically.

You wrench your eyes open and gaze blearily at the computer screen just in time to watch the stream of white that spills up through the back end of the fleshlight and over Yoongi’s knuckles. As hot as the image is, you whine at being made to watch this through the pixels instead of in real life, and the thought of being right fucking across from him as he fell apart is enough to make you seize up in your chair, orgasm draining you thoroughly, with not enough force to squirt but dripping on the seat nonetheless.

You take the toy out once pleasure turns to the sharp tweak of oversensitivity and pant, fighting to catch your breath as your feet feel positively numb.

Coming down from your high, you almost forget the running phone call until you hear his voice come through the speaker again. “Have a shower and then come back down to my room. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

The beeping tone leaves you alone in your room, and you loll your head back over the edge of the chair with an exhausted moan, not without a grin playing on your lips. You wouldn’t protest to that.

[idontblushsrry]

Uhh may I make a request for Ouran High School Host club? Just a headcanon for how the host would react to meeting someone how is a big time animal lover. (Like they pretty much live there life like the Irwin family)

A/N: I was thinking about how I’d write this and my brain just went ‘they lost their shit at the sight of instant coffee’, so uhh I hope this is to your liking. I tried to get as much animal variety as I could even though I didn’t really touch on marine animals that much)

Warnings: Like 2 swear words (pinky promise), slight drug mention(literally so small you might not even notice it), spoilers (minor) for Tamaki’s mom

Word Count: 1292

General

So this is under the assumption that like the Irwin family, Reader (or their family) has access to a wide variety of animals (from domestic to wild)

All of them respect the passion you have for animals

While they all might have various feelings on animals (see below), they can’t deny that you truly do love animals

Your family’s sanctuary focuses on healing injured animals and rehabilitating them so they can go back into the wild

Of course, your family has many sanctuaries around the world and some focus more on conservation while others focus on research

The one closest to the school focuses mainly on conservation and as such, is massive and functions like a zoo ( in terms of having people come in and see the animals)

Anyways, the host club is very supportive and often helps you with organizing donation events

Oftentimes, your family will collaborate with them and allow them to rent out parts of the conservation center for events

Aside from the conservation center though, your family owns a few ranches and farms (not for commercial profit, although yall have sold a few animals)

The farms and ranches are relatively small scale but they make great venues for the host club and a great place for getaways/vacations

Your main house is where you keep most of your favorite animals

You have an aviary attached to your room (connected through a hallway that connects to your room) as well as a butterfly garden in the backyard

You also have an aquarium tank, 2 dogs, 1 cat, 1 snake, and a hamster that visits on weekends

You had to be stopped at some point

Tamaki

Tamaki loves animals

He was never really around animals growing up because of how sensitive his mom’s immune system is

So when he sees that you’re an animal person, he’s super excited

Like this man is already planning playdates between Antoinette and your pets/animals

You love his enthusiasm, just one small problem

It’s a little too much enthusiasm

Yes the animals are well trained, but how would you react if a 6′0 giant with long arms came barreling towards you screaming showing its teeth?

So yeah, Tamaki tends to set the animals off/ make them nervous

Because of that he’s only allowed around certain animals (ex. certain monkeys, certain birds, etc.)

He’s happy that he’s allowed around some animals but he still pouts every time there’s an animal he can’t be around

Kyoya

This man

Kyoya does not fuck with animals. Like at all

The first time the host club went to your house, you were holding a hamster and Kyoya moved back about 10 feet

When you asked him what was wrong, he just said “Rats are carriers of many of the most deadly diseases”

You told him that you were holding a hamster and that while hamsters were rodents, the worst he’d get sick with would be salmonella

He doesn’t believe you, but yeah sure whatever

For Kyoya it just gets worse after that

The first time he sees you holding a tarantula, he loses his shit

“Look how cute it is Kyoya!”

“Get that vermin away from me!”

I could go on and on about how much Kyoya doesn’t like animals (even domestic ones like cats and dogs)

He hates going to your house, but he often has to go there in order to set up events for the host club, what a nightmare

While he doesn’t care for animals, the business side of his brain can’t help but think of a marketing opportunity

Mori

Is one of two hosts that are going to be chill about it

He doesn’t feel one way or the other about animals and thinks it’s cool that you’re interested in them

Only thing is; if Honey’s afraid of your animals, he will have to ask you to leave he won’t hesitate to step in “harm’s” way

Surprisingly though, that actually makes him the chillest with your animals

Much to your surprise (and Tamaki’s sorrow), the animals love him

He just has this calming vibe that sets the animals at ease

It also helps that he smells nice and is super tall

For most of them it’s like sitting on a giant tree

He’s not really complaining though, it makes his job of protecting Honey that much easier

Honey

Oh boy

He might actually be the worst with animals

It’s not even an issue of being unable to defend against aggressive animals (Honey could probably solo a grizzly bear)

It’s just he has a very strict “cute” animal policy that changes wildly depending on his mood, the temperature, the angle of the wind, the humidity, etc.

He’s very bougie when it comes to what animals he will tolerate and what animals he will refuse to see

The general safe choices are rabbits (especially bunnies), kittens, cows, tits (the bird species), and baby animals of almost every domestic mammal species)

Him and the hamster you see on weekends are best friends

Also, you have had issues with him trying to feed the animals sweets

Explaining to Honey why rabbits can’t have carrot cake was not an easy conversation, nor was it one you thought you’d need to have

Because of how specific he is about what animals he finds cute, you likened him to a crocodile (because of how sensitive they are to temp. changes in egg)

Needless to say...he was not pleased

Hikaru

So him and Kaoru don’t really care for animals but they try to relate to you in somewhat similar but different ways

Hikaru is always trying to get you to do/recreate stunts with the animals

“Hey Y/N, we should-”

“No Hikaru”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say”

“No you cannot use the dolphins for hoop tricks, no you cannot teach the gorillas how to roll blunts, no you cannot “bribe” the koalas with eucalyptus...”

Yeah he’s a menace

It’s mostly all in good fun though

Hikaru doesn’t really care for animals but he does find it hilarious that the animals like him more than Tamaki

Also, completely random but Hikaru definitely send you those “horse-sized duck vs duck sized horses” memes

Kaoru

Kaoru also tries to use animals on the internet to relate to you, but he’s a lot tamer than Kaoru

Kaoru is kind of like the parent who learns one thing you like and is like “that’s your entire personality right?”

Poor bby is trying his best

Anyways, whereas Hikaru tries to recreate memes, Kaoru sends you them

They range in quality and format; from top text, bottom text to “is this a ____”

At least once a day, Kaoru will send you a meme or picture of an animal with a caption that says ‘this reminded me of u :)’

It’s so endearing that you can’t even be mad about it

Haruhi

Is the only other one who’s kind of cool about the whole thing

She’s really only been around animals in the park or the occasional pet store

Growing up, she didn’t really have the time (or money) to go to the zoo, that and the fact that Ranka doesn’t care at all for animals (she thinks they’re weird and gross)

When Tamaki hears this, he works himself up into a frenzy, torn that his “daughter” has never been to a zoo (even tho he hasn’t either)

But she likes the fact that you’re so passionate about animals

At heart, she’s a scholar, so she loves learning new things she didn’t know before, she could spend all day just listening to you talk about animals

Not to mention the fact that you’re basically giving her a free informational tour  every time you see an animal

[mazuwii]

Name: Sudden Meltdown You= Y/N Ackerman College AU

Fast forward two lessons and I was sitting in the stuffed cafeteria with a fat cake on my plate, trying my hardest to ignore every chaotic thing going on in the huge round hall by chewing on more than I could possibly handle.

"Uh oh, she's stuffing her mouth, why are you mad?" Pieck nudged me. I had no choice but to groan and roll my eyes. Porco and Zeke were sat in front of us, already knowing why I was irritated. "She won't shut the fuck up for one damn second," I mumbled, my gaze averted to Historia standing on the table, barking out bullshit.

Reiner and Annie let out a scoff in sync, both keeping their focus on their phones. Bertholdt laughed awkwardly and played with his fork. "It'll die down soon." He said.

"No, does she think she's some kind of main character or something? Her standing on the table and giving a speech about violence isn't going to stop Eren and Jean fighting like two petty drag queens." I rolled my eyes and continued. "If it did work then they would have stopped arguing by now."

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten used to it." Yelena sat across Pieck and I with her usually half-empty tray. "No, everyone secretly finds it cringe, I can't be the only one."

"Mmm, I don't know Y/N, it seems like you are," Zeke smirked and slightly leaned out of the way. Suddenly, students from our class clapping for her came into my already crimson view. "I just want to drop-kick her damn it." I stabbed the cake, earning a tissue rubbing against my mouth and cheeks.

"Not while looking like a baby who can't feed themselves," Pieck said, wiping the corners. All of our friends chortled as she treated me like a child. "What a supportive friend you are(!)" I sighed and took my earphones out of my backpack so I could block out the blonde's agitating voice.

Why was I getting so mad? I had no idea. Perhaps it was because her words were so repetitive and held no meaning to them. "Maybe you're jealous." Porco smugly said. I responded with a growl. "Of what?"

"I don't know, the fact that almost every guy has had a crush on her or that she's prom queen every year or you aren't as feminine as her or maybe"-

"Shut up. I get it." I grunted, stubbornly crossing my arms and glaring away from everyone. "Don't talk with your mouth open, Pocco."

"Don't tell me what to do! Peepee!"

Ignoring Pieck and Porco, my weakened glower settled on Reiner, who was boringly drinking water, leaning against the chair like a careless kid at a boring lecture. "Rei?" He suddenly stopped drinking, his eyes dragging to me creepily. He hummed with his cheeks full of liquid.

"You okay? I never see you eating nowadays." This was a better subject to start rather than that annoying short drama queen. The tall man grinned sheepishly and shook his head. "I ate too much in the morning so I don't have an appetite right now."

"I don't believe that, you aren't as beefy as you used to be," I snickered, squinting my eyes at him. "I bet Porco must be so happy now." Zeke abruptly said to himself. Our attention darted towards the bearded guy, making him look up and proceed. "He's jealous of Reiner's boobs and tries to grow his"-

"What?! Pfft no, I don't! Where d-did you get that from!?"

"Read it in your diary."

Porco began his usual rampage on privacy and why having Zeke as a roommate was like sharing with an obnoxious monkey, making us facepalm at the two. I turned towards Reiner who blushed slightly. I laughed and shook my head at how shy he could become.

By the time their argument turned into playful insults with Pieck and Yelena reacting to all their crappy comebacks, Bertholdt and Annie left the table with each other, in love as always. I got up from my seat and sat next to Reiner since the seat next to him was now empty.

"You know," He started, "You don't need to be jealous of Historia, you're just as good if not, better than her." The heat in my cheeks radiated my entire face. "At least to me," He added with a small smile, suddenly widening his eyes.

"Oh- sorry was that weird?" He laughed awkwardly. "Not at all, weirdo." I smiled at him, loving the view. How could Annie be staring at her phone when she had such perfection sitting next to her?

"Now come with me, let's both get some milk!" I snatched his hand and forced him up with me. He widened his eyes at how abrupt I was being, not having the heart to say no.

Reiner had some issues he never speaks about to people. He's amazing, the way he tries to heal his wounds by healing everyone else's. Out of all the questions I had, I'd have to ask him why. Why he covers his pain up by smiling, which technically is like adding wood to fire.

After taking a croissant and a cookie, I took him out to the benches on campus, no one really goes there now because it was raining in the morning.

Still, I threw my jacket on it and told him to sit down. Before he could decline, I pressed on his shoulders and forced him on it. The jacket was long enough for the both of us so I sat down right next to him.

"Reiner." I mumbled, biting into my cookie and shoving the croissant on his lap. "Y/N... I really"-

"Shut up and eat it, I'm sick of pretending to believe your lies."

His hand shook slightly and his lips quivered, turning his head away from me so that I wouldn't see. My heart shattered into a million pieces upon seeing him try to hide a cry.

"Rei..." I whispered, reaching for his slumped shoulder. "I'm just worried about you, we're besties aren't we?"

"Y/N... I don't deserve anything or anyone." He finally said. Despite the fact it was sad, at least he said something.

"No, please don't tell me this is how you've been thinking?" I bit my lip and remembered how he had PTSD and his room was all for himself, he had no roommate and stays in silence for the whole night, panicking with no one to help.

The silence he was giving me frustrated me more than it should, the fact that he wasn't saying anything about this. Judging by his weight loss it had been at least two weeks. "How long?" I asked carefully.

"Every night..." He finally looked at me. His usually golden, passion-filled eyes were dull with a spike of pain glistening in them. The corners bloodshot as he tried to contain the tears.

"You've been strong for too long, it's ok to cry..." I slithered my arm around his shoulders and gently laid his head against the crook of my neck. His shoulders shook and his breath was shaking as he finally let it out, sobbing into my neck.

From time to time, he'd let out a loud groan by accident, sniffling to lower his voice so that no one could hear but himself. "You matter so much to me, I swear to god, Rei." My fingers raked through his short blonde hair that had grown over time, my other hand rubbing his back.

"I want Reiner Braun. No one else." I told him, knowing why he was putting on the older brother impression all the time.

"He- He's nothing..."

"He's everything to me, why would you want to take away my everything?"

Suddenly, the sniffling stopped and the tears running down my neck halted at my sweater, soaking the collar. His face came into view when he sat up, gazing at me as if I had stated the craziest thing. His bronze pools switched from my left to my right pupil, drowning in my sincerity.

"You know how shit my days here would be without your dumb ass to flirt and make the most himbo jokes?" I giggled, my palm snaking up to his jaw and feeling his stubble gently prick my fingers as I caressed him.

Even though he hadn't said a word, I could only wish I made him feel better about himself because I had not only stated the truth, I exposed myself, my weakness. Although I don't show my appreciation as much as I should, I do need him, life would collapse without the idiot...

"Now, if you take my everything away from me, I'll despise you with every inch of my body," I said, melting when his hand laid on top of mine, leaning into my touch.

"That's not a lot of inches." He mumbled into my palm, making me lightly laugh. "Bastard." He weakly smirked at my playful insult.

"Come here." I sat on my knees so that I was higher than him and rested his head against my chest, my arms tight and secure around him.

"Mm..." I heard his muffled voice say, "Every time you hug me I feel so safe..." My heart skipped a beat, surely I wasn't supposed to hear that considering how low his voice was.

"You won't tell anyone... right?" He said, taking a deep breath in. I could sense him relaxing in my embrace, reassuring not only him but me.

"Of course not, let's just try and get you a break from school, a week should do it... right?" My hand rested on the back of his head even when he moved to face me.

"We have a lot of work for the school play though... the equipment needs building, who'll do the backstage lighting and help with props and what"-

"REI! Relax yourself, himbo. It's only a week."

"No."

"Reiiiii!" I whined, ignoring the thunder that had just struck. "Are you telling me you wouldn't want a week holiday with me?"

"I do, Y/N but we can't." He held onto my waist, careful not to squeeze my sides because he's well aware I'm ticklish there. "I can heal..."

My head unknowingly shook from side to side, "Rei you don't understand, I'm worried for you, healing by yourself... are you sure it'd work?" Silence...

Just as he was about to open his mouth, synced whistling broke our eye contact in the now heavy rain. Our gazes were met by the most annoying trio, Connie, Sasha and Jean wriggling their eyebrows at us. I heard Reiner uncomfortably sigh, cutting his breath off mid-way.

Abruptly, Jean began humming careless whisper out loud with his bothersome voice, Connie singing the lyrics with Sasha weirdly dancing in front of them as if they were in a ninja trio for matchmaking. "Tonight the music seems so LOUD! I WISH THAT WE COULD LOSE THIS CROWD! BABY! IT'S BETTER THIS WAY!"-

"You kids never shut up," We all flinched at the sudden appearance of Levi in the rain, standing proudly at his size. "First of all, it's 'maybe it's better this way', second of all your singing is so bad that the thunderstorm got worse, third of all, Braun and Ackerman, both of you get to class this is not a cheesy ass romance movie!"

Note:

Ok but Sasha Connie and Jean doing careless whisper is 100% canon, like it's too funny not to be true, I’m just chucking this into tumblr LMAO

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea and Fangs//Mission Accomplished

Request: If you're busy you can ignore this. I really like your poly! Fangs and Sweet Pea and I was wondering if you could do another one. Maybe about what being a family with them would be like. (You know like what kind of fathers would they be.) Thanks!

hey!! this was super cute to write! i hope you like it! 

- Okay, so lets just say right now

- They would be the best dads in the world 

- And you can bet that they both have mugs with ‘best dad in the world’ written on them

- Which they of course use literally every day 

- So much so, that you have to replace them every couple of months 

- Usually because Sweet Pea puts his down on a table to aggressively 

- Or because Fangs doesn’t stir coffee, he bashes the spoon from side to side until he breaks the mug, the spoon, and occasionally himself. 

- Anyway

- So lets say you got pregnant at like 24/25ish 

- All three of you had moved out of Riverdale 

- Because I mean lets be real, its not the safest place to start a family 

- With the murderers and the cults and the gangs and literally everything else 

- Plus, it had been Sweet Pea and Fangs’ dream to get out of the southside and riverdale and to have a better life than their parents did 

- So all three of you have stable jobs that you love 

- And a cute little apartment

- Filled with photos of the three of you 

- And so many memories of your life together 

- Including some random dog statue that Fangs found in the skip behind the apartment complex 

- To this day you and Sweet Pea have no idea why he was there in the first place 

- But you think the scratches on his hands, face and neck had something to do with it

- And so many plants 

- So basically you’re parents already...right?

- Anywayyyyyy

- So, you guys were doing pretty good

- Vey, very happy together 

- And you’d just come back from visiting Toni and Cheryl and their new baby girl

- Who is adorable by the way 

- So you’d be chilling at home

- You and Sweet Pea watching something on Netflix 

- While Fangs cooks dinner (its his turn and he’s the best cook)

- And you’d notice Sweet Pea and Fangs exchanging looks 

- So you’d be suspicious

- And eventually, after the two of them giving each other very odd looks all throughout dinner, you’ve had enough. 

- ‘okay. what’s going on?’ 

- ‘we wanna have a baby’ Fangs would blurt out and you and Sweet Pea’s eyes would both go wide. 

- ‘what?’ you’d look between the two of them 

- Fangs is pushing the last bit of food around the plate 

- Sweet Pea is refusing to make eye contact with either of you, finding the ceiling fascinating 

- While you’re tapping your foot against the floor 

- ‘hello? anyone care to expand?’ 

- And Sweet Pea would sigh, and tear his gaze from the ceiling, settling on you. 

- ‘fine. we’ve both been thinking about it for a whil-’ 

- ‘and then we went to see toni and cheryl and their kid is so cute and they look so happy and we want to start a family with you’ Fangs would interrupt. 

- Of course you’d also thought about having kids.

- Sweet Pea and Fangs are the love of your life 

- They’re who you want to spend the rest of your life with

- Plus you’ve been dating since you were like 16, so it makes sense 

- But it was difficult enough for Toni and Cheryl to have a baby

- This is going to be complicated 

- Both of them will obviously be this kids dad...

- But what if when its born the other gets jealous?

- What if they feel like they’re not properly apart of it? 

- Would you even find out who the biological dad was? 

- Or would you just leave it?

- What about when the kid is older?

- There’s already enough stigma about kids having two moms or two dads

- What about one with two dads and one mom?

- So, you’d all sit down after dinner and talk about everything 

- The possible problems 

- How you would raise it

- If you’re all ready

- And you’d finally figure it out 

- Well, the best that you could anyway

- But in the end you’d figured that you’d all be alright because you had each other

- So then the fun bit ;)

- You’d be trying for a few months 

- Much to the happiness of Fangs and Sweet Pea

- They weren’t complaining 

- And then when you do get pregnant 

- Holy fuck are they happy

- Like literally jumping around, hugging each other, hugging you

- They’re literally the happiest people ever 

- The first thing they do is call Toni

- Because well, they have to tell their best friend that she’s going to be an aunt. 

- And a few minutes later, Cheryl texts you a video of Toni on the phone, jumping up and down as they tell her. 

- Anyway, so once they’ve calmed down they instantly go into protective mode. 

- Like

- ‘oh, sit down. standing up is not good for the baby.’ 

- ‘what?’ 

- ‘do you need a drink? food? a nap? a hug?’ 

- ‘i’m good’ 

- And you think this is just going to last for a few days 

- But no

- This continues all through the pregnancy 

- And afterwards tbh

- They are so protective 

- You always sleep in the middle so they can both keep you two safe 

- Even if it is a nightmare when you need to pee

- Fangs did suggest a bucket by the bed but you and Sweet Pea both agreed that was too far

- They go to all the scans 

- And cry

- Every. Single. Time

- Sweet Pea’s suggests going to the baby classes

- Even though you’re kind of unsure of what people will say

- But you go

- And its surprisingly, okay

- You get a few strange looks 

- But who the hell cares 

- And Sweet Pea and Fangs both have their own little notebooks that they’re furiously scribbling notes in 

- And they always take turns to practice on the fake babies 

- Plus, before you all go to bed the three of you will read baby books, occasionally swapping them every so often. 

- ‘did you know that new-borns are short sighted’

- ‘ha, four eyed loser’ 

- ‘i’m sorry. how old are you sweet pea?’ 

- So they’re just the sweetest 

- And every time they come back from work they aways have something for the baby 

- Literally. Every. Time 

- No matter what.

- ‘how many shoes do you think this baby is going to need?’

- ‘i don’t even think babies need shoes, at least not for the first few months’ 

- ‘no baby needs this many leather jackets.’ 

- ‘yeah, but its got a snake on the back! how could i just leave it there?’ 

- ‘where did you find a leather jacket for a baby with a snake on the back?’ 

- ‘...the serpents made it for us.’ 

- And they buy the most weird stuff 

- Like you’re getting amazon packages every other day

- The neighbors think you guys are doing something illegal 

- Sweet Pea buys a baby grow that has labels for where the arms and legs go 

- And when you ask him why

- ‘its for fangs. i’m just helping him out’ 

- So in retaliation, Fangs buys one with instructions of where to feed the baby and where to change it

- Also this doesn’t stop when your baby is born, they’re still buying stupid t-shirts with stupid slogans on well into its 20s 

- Your favourite thing they’ve bought is definitely the fake tattoo sleeve 

- So, you’re keeping the gender a surprise 

- Because who cares 

- So you’re going for like a yellow or gray nursery 

- And Sweet Pea and Fangs are insisting on doing it all them selves 

- The painting 

- The furniture 

- The little accessories 

- Everything

- Needless to say you hear a huge crash within five minutes of them starting 

- So you do it together instead

- You start painting while they put the crib together 

- There’s some left over screws at the end but they decide against telling you that

- It looks stable enough 

- And just to make sure, Fangs tested it out...and got stuck

- They make sure to take tons of pictures throughout the entire pregnancy 

- Much to your annoyance 

- ‘I’ve just thrown up for the third time in five minutes...stop taking my damn picture.’ 

- ‘i want to capture every moment’ 

- ‘why!?!?’ 

- But you love the majority of them 

- There’s some of you by yourself 

- Some of them with you and one of them 

- Others with the three of you together 

- Both of them looking at you like you’re their entire world 

- (which you are) 

- And there’s a few pictures of just the two of them with fake pregnancy bellies on, in the style of a professional photo shoot 

- Another late night Amazon purchase 

- Which when you opened you were...confused to say the least. 

- When you’re nearing your due date they make sure at least one person is with you at all times, just in case you go into labour 

- And that works, until the day you actually go into labour and you’re alone 

- Fangs is at work and Sweet Pea had to run to the store to get ice cream and snacks

- And then it happens

- You’re panicking but trying not to, but its not working 

- Sweet Pea comes back and then he sees your panicked face and he drops the food and almost himself to be honest 

- He’s running around trying to find your bag and his bag and Fangs’ bag

- And you’re trying to ring Fangs but he’s not answering 

- Sweet Pea eventually gets through to him when you guys get the hospital and you can hear Fangs screaming down the phone

- He makes it there in five minutes, even though he works at least fifteen minutes away

- They’re on either side of you 

- Both panting and telling you to breathe

- Basically they are being ridiculous 

- And very unhelpful 

- Especially when the breathing is mainly to calm themselves down

- And then Sweet Pea gets distracted, blows a rubber glove up and it pop’s 

- And to be honest the fright it gave you, you thought you’d given birth

- But when its time for you to start pushing they’re right next to 

- Holding your hands 

- Saying so many nice things 

- Being so sweet and supportive 

- And they also take a moment to hug each other while they watch 

- Like they’re crying 

- At one point Fangs just screams 

- ‘i told you not to look down there’ Sweet pea scolds 

- ‘does it go back to normal?’ Fangs would ask

- ‘god, i hope so’ You’d groan in pain

- But then your daughter is born and they’re smitten

- This tiny little life is theirs 

- And it relies on them for everything 

- And they’re so proud of you

- Literally they’re heart is going to burst with love and pride for you

- They love her so much 

- And instantly take their roles very seriously 

- The first night they let you sleep because well you’ve just given birth, you need a rest

- And it gives them a chance to bond 

- They take turns holding her 

- And feeding her 

- And just talking to her

- ‘we’re you’re dads’ Fangs would whisper

- ‘i’m sweet pea. nice to meet you.’

- ‘what are you doing?’ 

- ‘introducing myself. i have to make a good impression, and we need to teach her manners’ 

- ‘shit, you’re right. hello, i’m fangs, your other dad...do i like, shake her hand?’ 

- ‘hmmm, yeah. i think she’s too young for a high-five’ 

- ‘thats your mom over there. she’s asleep at the minute so we have to be really quiet, but she loves you so much...and so do we. you’re our entire world’ 

- They’re so gentle with her

- And with you 

- When you get home, the three of you show her around her new home 

- And show her all the pictures on the walls, explaining the memories behind each of them 

- You also make sure to introduce her to her siblings (the houseplants) 

- When she’s a little older Sweet Pea starts teaching her how to defend herself 

- ‘she’s three sweet pea, she doesn’t need to know how to karate chop someone’ 

- ‘yes she does. i’m always going to be around to keep her safe...but just in case. which reminds me, do you know how to karate chop someone?’ 

- Fangs teaches her how to cook 

- Like she knows everything by the times she’s 10

- Both of them teach her stupid (and sometimes inappropriate) jokes

- Out of the two of them, Fangs is usually the one to tell her off

- Actually, its you...you’re the one to tell her off if she’s done something wrong because they both can’t bring themselves to shout at her 

- Its difficult for you too (so its a blessing that she’s actually pretty well behaved, unlike all three of her parents) 

- Fangs is definitely the most over protective 

- He follows her around when she starts to crawl, literally if she moves a centimeter, he’s up and following her around. 

- Sweet Pea is always the one to cheer her up when she’s sad

- And you’re the one she always goes to when she’s hurt herself or if she just needs a hug

- She loves all of you so much 

- And you love her

- They still insist of taking pictures of literally every moment 

- It actually increases after she’s born 

- You really don’t know how thats possible 

- Even she gets annoyed at it

- ‘really dad? another one??’ 

- ‘hey! when all three of us are dead and buried you’re going to look back at these and wish we’d taken more’ 

- They make it their life mission to teach her every single thing they know about the world 

- And all three of you make it your life mission to make sure she knows how loved she is 

- Which you definitely accomplished

[hiccanna-tidbits]

“Let her come to me.”

Cyan waves ripple aside, and Moana steps onto the wet sand. In the distance, glowing veins of bright red stand out against pitch black and smokes and sparks and cinders fill the sky.

All fire and fury and burning...like the worst of you. And the best.

The creature in the distance shrieks, drops to all fours and starts crawling across the seafloor. Mindless, furious, feral--far out of her reach. But she has to try.

Water coats her like a protective shell, flowing and rippling across her skin in a sort of dancing armor. Her hair rises and falls like ocean waves, encased in a little pocket of sea.

I have crossed the horizon to find you.

She’s come so far, sailed oceans and followed stars and felt so lonely and pained and lost she feels like she might die--but she kept on anyways. She kept on because all she wants in the world is fiery hair and eyes like the morning sky and the loudest presence she’s ever known and if she fucks this up now, she might never have that again.

And Moana would cross another horizon, if she had to. If that’s what it took to get her back.

Searing, clawlike fingers throw up wet sand. Moana keeps on. 

I know your name.

“You’re Merida Dunbroch,” she says, voice cracking. “You’re the best archer I’ve ever met. You’re crude and brash and unapologetic and fearless. You’d take on the whole world if it meant you could prove yourself. You love empire biscuits and apple tarts and you’d finish a whole roast chicken yourself if no one stopped you. You snort when you laugh and you eat like you’ll never see food again. You love feeling the wind in your hair, and getting it even more tangled because your mom used to hate brushing it out afterwards. You’ll climb to the top of any rock or cliff you can, no matter how dangerous it is, just so you can take in the view and drink in the wind. You’d do anything in the world for your little brothers, but you’d never, ever tell them that. You carved my name into your bow and told me it was so...so you could always take me with you, wherever you went.”

Moana’s voice breaks.

They have stolen the heart from inside you.

She remembers the smoke coming in and clouding the island, Te Ka lunging across the waves and onto the beach. The villagers screaming, fleeing to the top of the mountain to get out of the beast’s reach. Merida, the outsider, the one who fled from a kingdom far, far away to escape a destiny she didn’t want, the one whose boat had washed up one day and forced her to integrate to an entirely new way of life, bravely standing her ground with her sword brandished. The way she swung and struck and screamed with everything she had, trying to take down a monster twenty times her size to protect a village she had only called home for a little over a year. The way she kept fighting even as Te Ka closed her hands around her and black rock began to grow on her skin.

She kept fighting until the very end, when Te Ka took her away. When Te Ka corrupted her, made her into something just like the vast, wrathful goddess.

When the lava coursed through her, it must have burned her heart away until she was left with nothing, like Te Ka.

But there had to be something still in there. Moana had to believe that.

She couldn’t come all this way to find out she was wrong.

But this does not define you.

The lava beast draws closer. Moana can see the eyes. They’re vast, golden-orange pits, impossible to read.

Impossible to see if the girl she knew was still behind them.

But she had to be. Merida Dunbroch was not one to go down with a fight. Not one to let herself be lost completely. She was the strongest person Moana had ever known.

This is not who you are.

The anger. The rage. The hatred. The pain. Moana knew they all belonged to Merida--all things Te Ka could feed off of to power her little double. Anger at being forced to be someone she wasn’t, rage at being “auctioned off” into a political marriage when she knew she could never love a man. Hatred at a world that didn’t care to understand her, that told her every time she was loud or impassioned or stubborn that it made her shameful and disgusting and worthless. The pain at being trapped and alone in a place where she was going to have to put on a facade for the rest of her life.

But there was more in her. She smiled radiantly, she laughed hard, and she loved fiercely. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for people who showed her kindness and care. She loved amusing the other villagers, loved making her friends happy. She doted on Pua and HeiHei with surprising gentleness.

There was so much more in her than anger and chaos and cruelty and destruction. And that was what Moana needed her to remember.

You know who you are.

The lava creature pauses, snarling mouth hanging open, hair flowing behind in billows of smoke. Moana steps forward, willing her to remember. Needing her to remember. The playful shoves, the evening dance lessons, sipping coconut water as they watched the sun go down. Moana knew all of it still had to be inside of her somewhere.

What had once been Merida wouldn’t be pausing in attacking her if it wasn’t.

Moana steps forward, and the lava creature doesn’t move. Taking a breath, she presses their foreheads together. It burns and sears like anything, but Moana just doesn’t care. The lava creature closes her eyes, still and calm in a way Moana never thought she’d see again.

“Who you truly are,” she whispers.

She reaches up and places a water-cased hand on the hard, rocky chest, and the lava beneath sizzles and steams as it dries and hardens into black rock. A soft rumble fills the air as the rock begins to split, water snaking over it and burrowing into the cracks. Chunks begin to shear off and thump into the sand, and Moana catches sight of pale skin and a torn dress.

She watches in wonder as the ebony shell crumbles away--first her chest, then her arms, and finally her face. Two wide, pale blue eyes stare at her in amazement as smoke disperses and lava slides away and what’s left is a head full of bouncy orange curls.

“Mo?”

Merida says it uncertainly, like she’s in the strange space between wake and sleep where she can’t quite tell what’s real and what’s in her mind. Moana laughs, and she wraps Merida in her arms and crushes the other girl against her--so she’ll know this is real.

“You’re back,” Moana sniffs. Somewhere in her laughs, tears have begun to fall. “You came back to me.”

Merida laughs, and holds her back. They both sink into the sand, clinging to each other like there’s nothing else in the whole universe to cling to.

And maybe there isn’t.

“What are yeh doin’ way out here?” Merida murmurs against her ear, tone surprisingly stern. “The ocean’s a dangerous place, lassie. And Ah know damn well yeh can’t actually sail, no matter what et is yeh tell yerself.”

“I had to come to you,” is all Moana says.

Merida seems to melt even further into her grip. “Yeh...came all this way...for me?” Her voice breaks as she says it. “Why?”

“I love you.”

The words slip out before Moana can stop them.

Merida leans back and studies her inquisitively, and all Moana can think is I’m fucked.

The next second Merida’s hands are on her cheeks and she’s pulling the other girl forward to kiss her ferociously.

Moana is frozen, stupefied, completely unable to move. She never thought she’d be here, living this moment--but bringing Merida back was only the first of the miracles to happen today, apparently.

Moana slowly lifts her arms, draping them over Merida’s shoulders and melting into her.

“Ah love yeh, too, lass.” Merida pauses long enough to breathe it into her ear. “Ah just didn’t know how tae say et. Ah never thought yeh’d look at me that way. Ah was scared yeh might think et was...wrong.”

Moana responds by kissing her again. Before they know it, they’re tipping over, lying entangled on the wet ground. Sand stirs around them, slowly coating their skin and already-dirtied clothes as they press closer and closer into each other, but they realize that they just don’t care.

Moana is filling with warmth--so vast and full and overpowering that she can’t help but wonder if Merida still has some of that lava left in her. Whether she does or not, Moana can only form one thought as she laces her fingers through sandy red curls.

I’m never letting you go again.

***

When Merida next feels lava on her skin, it’s dozens of years later.

She doesn’t know what to make of it, waking up with cracked black rock on her skin again and streams of lava curling away from her scalp in fiery hair. But it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t hurt--it feels all too right. The power, the passion, the vigor of when she was taken over by Te Ka is there--but this time, she can control it.

Merida lived a long life. A happy life. She stayed on Motunui--even when the village began voyaging again, charting new lands, she always came back to their home with Moana. Her Moana. They passed together on a summer evening, lying on the beach with their hands entwined and the tribe safely in the hands of the fine young man they had chosen to be the next chief-to-be.

When Te Ka became Te Fiti, it appeared a vacancy opened--the need for a goddess of volcanoes and lava, now that the goddess of life had returned. Life was a cycle, after all--you couldn’t have green and growth and lushness with burning magma and barren rock and life sizzled out. That’s where Merida guessed she came in.

It baffled her, why some outsider like herself would be chosen for such an honor. She had worked hard at becoming a great warrior, protecting the people she had adopted as her own. But ascending to godhood? She didn’t deserve something like this.

And then she sees her walking over the horizon.

Her body is made entirely of water--curves in shining cyan, dress splashing around her laced with foaming whitecaps, hair whipping behind her in rippling ocean waves. But her hands, her face, her eyes--there’s no mistaking it’s her.

“Moana?” Merida whispers.

They run to each other, ripping across land and pounding through sea to reach one another. When they crash together, steam rises around them in graceful billows--the heat of lava and the cool of ocean, united into a gentle mist.

“Moana? How are we here?”

“The ocean chose me a long time ago, to return the heart of Te Fiti and restore life to the world,” Moana murmurs into her shoulder. “And now it’s chosen me again--for something more important. I’m one with the ocean now, making sure it brings and sustains life for all the generations to come. But you...you deserve to be here with me, contributing to the endless cycle.” She leans back and gives Merida a soft smile. “So I may have put in a good word for you.”

Merida laughs. “Are yeh sure et isn’t cuz yer too clingy tae let me go?”

Moana just smles. “That too. I guess eternity seems a lot more tedious to pass when you’re not there.”

They’re an odd pair. The goddess of the ocean, who gives homes to sea turtles and whales and bright fish, who guides ships between islands, who’s always there for someone to dip their feet in on a hot day...and the goddess of volcanoes, who explodes with burning magma, who rains ash and smoke across the sky, who brings unquestionable death to all those who don’t get away fast enough. But when they touch, when they kiss, when they tangle themselves up in one another, pieces of volcanic rock topple into the sea and grow lush and full with life bursting from every seam. The goddess of the sea and the goddess of lava make more life together than they ever could apart. 

Sometimes they must temper one another. An especially vicious volcanic explosion is stopped only by the cool calm of the sea. Fierce stormclouds that could sink ships are pulled apart by clouds of smoke and ash. Magma rises from the ocean floor, calming tsunamis. Rain puts out the worst of the fires from spewing lava. It’s a balance.

But at the end of the day, when the sky clears and new islands come to be, green and lush and full of fruit and palm trees and vines and animals that hum and chirp and buzz, there can be no doubt that the two goddesses can’t be without each other.

There can be no doubt that the goddess of the ocean and the goddess of volcanos are deeply--and eternally--in love.

***

WELL WELL WELL! A lot of people seemed to really like my Moanida Goddess AU, so I made a moodboard and started writing a drabble and...this happened, I guess? The story came out a lot longer and more angsty than I planned, but oh well--hope y’all like it!

Legit love how these two balance each other out. I feel like the chaotic, reckless “fire energy” of Merida definitely needs kind of a calm, rational “water energy” from someone like Moana. Merida needs someone level-headed to talk her out of doing Dumb Shit without being mean-spirited or talking down to her about it, and Moana needs someone like Merida to drag her out of her comfort zone and help her face off her demons and self-doubt and whatever. Literally a perfect match! God I fucking love Fire x Water pairings so much. Can you tell I’m also a fan of Zutara

Also yeah I’d definitely be on board with Moana x Te Fiti if Fi wasn’t a giant-ass goddess like 20 times Moana’s size. Can you tell? But sue me, that entire scene did in fact have sapphic vibes.

@takaraphoenix Moanida time!!!

Pic credits available upon request!

[lluvguts]

stargazing // byler

pairing: will byers / mike wheeler & eleven / max mayfield

genre/warnings: mainly fluff! some soft angst

word count: 2502

summary:  Where the party goes laser tagging for Will's 16th birthday and something happens that Mike will never forget aka that first kiss no one asked for.

n/a: post season 3 spoilers!! you’ve been warned!

March 22nd, 1987

6:37 pm

“Lucas, I don’t even care if it’s Will’s birthday, so help me if you crash this car I’m making Eleven open the gate and feed you to the Demodogs,” Dustin yelled from the front seat of the Henderson’s van with the rest of the group piled in the back.

“El can’t do that anymore, genius.” Max had her hands clasped in Eleven’s lap.

“I have my license, Dustin. Stop freaking out,” Lucas groaned but still reduced his speed by a few miles.

“Lie-sense?” Eleven looked to Max.

“Can we please stop arguing?” Mike hollered over the shouting from the back of the van, as well as Max’s arm stretching across the console to crank the volume louder on the radio.

The party had decided to celebrate Will Byer’s sixteenth birthday in the most acceptable way possible: laser tag. The boys had outgrown Dungeons & Dragons—for the most part—but that didn’t stop them from pooling their money and planning on spending the night shooting each other with lasers and eating junk food like children; if anything it brought back the nostalgia of their middle school antics. The girls, on the other hand, didn’t care for the game as much—although Eleven had a difficult time wrapping her head around the entire idea of laser tagging—and they only went for the sake of Will and to spend time together.

The van slowly turned into the parking lot of the laser tag center and the chatter subsided.

“Is this what you wanted for your birthday?” Mike turned to Will. The other boy gave a shy smile and nodded. No matter how many weeks since they’d announced their relationship to the party and their parents—even realizing it themselves—Will’s affectionate gestures made Mike’s heart beat a little faster, and his eyes linger on the boy’s face a little longer. He wasn’t used to it yet, he’d never been in a real relationship. And his smile is driving me mad.

Will took Mike’s hand and pulled him out of the last row of seats. As he jumped down from the van Mike’s eyes flickered to his shorts. Only briefly. Were they always that..short? His heart leapt from his chest and he looked away, embarrassed, only to find their intertwined fingers. Will caught Mike’s flustered expression.

“What?” he laughed and held up their hands, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Mike said, his face reddening. “Uh, I mean, you don’t have to. Sorry, it’s just all so new-“

“Hey! Birthday boy! Get over here! You too, stupid,” Max called, pointing to the Polaroid camera in her hands while the rest of the group huddled around the front entrance for the photo.

Will smiled up at the dark haired boy and lead them over to the others. Max held the camera out in front of her as the rest of the group filed behind her, grinning. Will snaked his hand over Mike’s shoulders and Eleven draped her arms around Max from behind.

“Cheese!”

“Mike, stop looking at Will, look at the camera,” Lucas snapped.

They all laughed as the light flashed.

“I took a few, so you all get a copy.” Max let the film develop for a few seconds and handed them each a photo. Mike took one and before he slid it into his pocket he showed it to Will, both staring at their cheeky grins. He already knew where he’d keep the photo—on the bulletin board in his bedroom, amongst ticket stubs, poems and sketches Will had done, and photos of the group when they were younger; right next to the many polaroids he’d snapped of Will. A collage of his hazel eyes. His beautiful, bright eyes.

“Cute, Mikey,” Will whispered. Was he talking about the picture? Or him?

Will briefly touched Mike’s shoulder then caught up with the rest of them, leaving him to stare at the smiles on the film, hiding his blush.

7:02 pm

“Boys against girls!”  

“How is that fair?” Eleven hissed, “It’s just the two of us.”

“We can join a group that’s already in there,” Will added.

“You’re all such a headache. Let’s just split it into two groups. Me, Mike and Dustin on the red team. Will, Lucas and Eleven on blue. Deal?” Max counted off on her fingers.

Mike looked around the area as the others went with their teams and pulled on the correct vests and guns.

“Need some help?” Max asked and went to her girlfriend’s side, she was holding the gear in her arms with a startled expression like she was handling a bomb. She giggled as Max guided the heavy vest over her head and adjusted it to her small waist. Eleven watched it all in wonder, then looked up at her face.

“Pretty,” She said to Max and leaned in for a hug, their pink cheeks pressed close.

“See Will? It’s that simple,” Dustin whispered loudly and then chuckled while he watched the girls. Will punched Dustin in the arm and his eyes quickly met Mike’s from across the neon lit waiting room.

Will was about to say something to him, not in words. In his stare. But the booming voice from the overhead speaker filled the room.

“Game begins in five,” The announcer said.

“Alright. I’m going to go with my team. You remember the rules?” Max had her hands on Eleven’s shoulders, staring into her eyes.

Mike tried to make Will look again, but he was talking to Dustin as they headed into a different room. What was he going to say? What was so simple?

Eleven pointed to Max’s glowing chest, “Shoot the red vests. Hide. Be quiet.”

“See? You’ll do great,” Max hugged her one last time and went over to the door, “But, I am going to win.”

“We’ll see about that, Mad Max.” Lucas shouted and patted their shoulders companionably.

A buzzer sounded as the main doors opened; Mike’s team rushed inside to station themselves around the maze. The arena was pitch black save for the neon lights across the carpeted floor and a constellation of yellow artificial stars on the ceiling. He knew that Will’s team was somewhere on the opposite side, lurking in the shadows. Waiting to stake the perfect moment to strike. The visual made Mike’s heart race and he was drowning in worry.

He could only think of Will. It’s gonna be just like that time at the arcade. Just like Halloween. He’s gonna be walking and everything’s fine until someone jumps out and it triggers a memory in his mind. What if he can’t control it, and the figure in front of him suddenly turns into a Demogorgon? Or the Mind Flayer in his head?

Mike crept around the curved bend in the maze and quietly ducked into a dark alcove to think. A shout suddenly echoed and floated up into the air, the resonant cry drifting to Mike’s ears. To anyone else the sound only meant that someone had gotten caught off guard and a laser to the chest.

What if that’s Will? Is he okay?  

Mike sat up slowly, hoping to find Will and make sure he was safe; he turned his head around the edge of the alcove and in the sound of slamming plastic someone crashed into him. He staggered back, registering the face.

“Oh. Will, thank God. I was going to see-“

Before he could get out the last of his sentence Will took the barrel of his laser gun and pinned Mike back against the alcove wall.

He couldn’t speak.

Mike only watched Will draw his lips up to his mouth, frozen in surprise. Will squeezed the trigger as their lips parted at the same time, as though they’d wanted this from the start. He kissed Will back and shuddered when he felt a brush of those teeth along the front of his flushed lips; Mike dropped his gun and grabbed at his face, embracing the startling sensation when Will pressed himself closer, trapping him. Oh God, don’t move. Don’t pull away, Mike pleaded.  

The trigger went off and Mike’s vest buzzed and filled the space with flashing red light—but Will didn’t let go. He just rooted him in place by the tip of the gun, its weight carrying all throughout the plastic front of his vest and into his pounding heart.

Will sighed into his open mouth, making Mike shudder involuntarily before he moved his body away. The air was filled with the sound of their shaky breathing.

“That’s what I wanted for my birthday,” Mike’s heart sped up at his gruff, breathy voice.

Mike reached for him again, “W-Wait-“

“Shhh,” Will whispered and placed his hand on Mike’s face, smirking, “You’re dead, Wheeler.”

He rushed out of the alcove with a smile plastered on his face before Mike could run after him. The vest shook once more, signaling his loss, before the color faded and died. Mike slid down onto the floor and brought his fingers to his hot cheeks. His lips started to burn as the last few minutes replayed in his head, making his breathing turn ragged again and his stomach twist back into messy, feverish knots.

Mike felt the pulse roar in his ears, still staring at the empty space where Will was only moments before. Where he’d just kissed him.

What just happened?

8:49 pm

“Our team,” Eleven started, staring hopelessly out the car window into the night, “Lost.”

“Yep,” Dustin sighed, “That’s what happens when you’re up against the best.”

Mike ignored their arguing and stared out the back window at the stars. They covered the dark sky, too many to count, thousands of glittering and radiant sparks—they reminded him of Will’s eyes. So full of amber light and happiness, no matter the circumstance.

“Hey.” Mike flinched when there was a tap on his shoulder. Any touch from him and Mike turned into a live wire, his lungs forgot how to work and his heart thrashed wildly inside his aching chest. He longed to let Will’s touch linger, to sustain the burning, fluttering sensation.

“Yeah?” He whispered, taking the time to even his breathing before he looked at Will.

His eyes flickered between Mike’s, searching his face. “Was that alright?”

“Was what alright?”

“Back in the arena..you know..”

Mike’s cheeks burned tomato red as he remembered the softness of his lips and quickly murmured, “Oh, yeah. That was really nice Will, I just-“

“What?” He leaned in, as if getting closer would help to understand. Mike’s body tensed at the hurt beginning to show on Will’s face.

“It..kinda caught me off guard.”

Will paused. “Do you want me to ask you next time? If it’s okay?”

Mike nodded.

Will smiled at their bodies, intentionally placed as far apart as possible. “Can I hold your hand?”

He nodded again and Will slipped his hand into Mike’s, letting his fingers trail absently along the front of his knuckles.

“Mike, this is your stop,” Lucas said from the driver’s seat. Will held his hand tighter.

“Could I come too?” Will asked him quietly, “My mom wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course,” Mike hid his red face as he climbed over the back seat to the car door.

“Aight. Happy birthday, Will,” Dustin said and waved at the two.

He gave Dustin a shy smile. “Thanks, guys. It was really fun.”

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Max shouted out the window as the van sped away.

They stared at each other for a moment, in the quiet of the night, standing in front of the Wheeler’s unlit driveway. Until the front door swung open and Nancy was calling from the porch.

“Guess we better go in then,” Mike whispered, caught up in Will’s gaze.

He looked away, grinning. “Yeah.”

9:02 pm

“There’s so many photos here,” Will inspected the cork board on Mike’s wall. When they’d went inside Mike opened the window above his bed to let the peaceful night sounds in, and allow the stars outside to watch.

“Wait a minute,” Will touched a piece of paper tacked on the board, “I drew this.”

“I love your art, Will. How could I not hang it up?” Mike smiled up at him, so full of affection. He’s adorable when he’s flustered. Will muttered something under his breath and his face turned pink.

“Oh, right!” Mike got off his bed and joined his side. He handed over the Polaroid photo from his pocket, “You can pick the spot to put it up if you want.”

Will studied the picture, as if seeing it for the first time. He was close, close enough that Mike could see every detail of his face, see the curve of his lips that had fit so perfectly in his own.

“You’re so cute.” He pointed to Mike in the photo, then tore a piece of tape to hang the Polaroid next to a small drawing. A pencil sketch of Mike, with a caption at the bottom in Will’s handwriting: my Paladin.

“Y-you’re uh, pretty cute too,” Mike stammered. When Will finished hanging the picture he turned around and followed him to the bed, his head tipping up so their eyes met. The air suddenly felt very warm as they sat chest to chest—silent except for the crickets outside—until Will spoke softly.

“Mikey, can I ask something?” His hazel eyes never left his face.

Mike didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath.

“Anything.”

Will was leaning back on his hands, and decidedly scooted closer. “Can you..hold me please?”

His eyes widened. Will’s request was so gentle that it made Mike’s heart burn for him. The desire to have him in his arms. “Of course I will.”

Mike took his hands and wrapped them around his neck, leaning them back on the comforter, drawing him closer than they’d ever been before. Will nestled his cheek to Mike’s chest as he faced the stars out the open window, his legs eased down to rest snug by his sides.

“Is this okay?” Will asked, tilting his head up so he could nestle into Mike’s neck. His soft brown hair brushed Mike’s skin and sent goosebumps racing up his arms. He closed his eyes and rubbed Will’s back in comforting circles.

“It’s perfect,” He said.

Will yawned. “This was such a great birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“Duh, I had my first kiss.” Will murmured, his fingers under Mike’s neck started to play with his dark curls.

“Tired?” Mike asked, his hands never leaving his back.

“Only a little,” He replied with a drowsy smile against his chest.

He laughed and put a hand gingerly on Will’s face to move a strand of hair. In the minutes that followed he let Will fall asleep while he studied the stars outside, listened to the heartbeat of the boy on top of him, the drawing on the cork-board. The title scrawled beneath.

“My Cleric,” Mike whispered to the stars.

[worldoffanfiction2021]

Eternal Love of Dream - Chapter Next 2

(Image source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1829656087662319/)

The Bai household was bustling with activity today. The former queen of Quingqui and the future queen  of Sky Kingdom, Bai Xian was visiting after a long time. Her son Ah-li was with her too. He had always been quite close to his Fengjiu Jiejie. Knowing that Fengjiu was in coma had had both Xian and Ah-li worried. So they had come to check on her.

Bai Xian and Dijun exchanged pleasantries. Dijun introduced Gungun. After the initial shock and surprise, Bai Xian and Gungun took an instant liking to this little silver haired boy.

Bai Xian checked on the sleeping Fengjiu and then excused herself. She went on to look for her mother.

Ah-li and Gungun took a seat at the window, watching the birds outside and started chatting. Dijun busied himself with preparing medicine for his wife. He could hear the little boys talk excitedly nearby.

“So, where have you lived all this while, Gungun? What’s your home like?”, asked the ever curious Ah-li.

“Mother and I lived in the mortal realm. Not in any one place though. Mother says I grow much slowly than mortal children so to avoid people talking and making more trouble, we move every few months or every couple years.”, Gungun explained. “We still do get into plenty of trouble anyways, but at least we have gotten better in the last couple years”, he added.

That just piqued A-li’s interest immensely and his eyes shone brightly. “Tell me all about it. I know when I went around with Fengjiu Jiejie we often got into trouble, but she always made an adventure out of it.”

Dijun was listening, he did get worried when Gungun said trouble, but on hearing Ah-li’s response, a tiny chuckle escaped him. Yes, that was true. His Xiaobai could turn a trouble into an adventure any time. That was one of the many things he admired about her. Curious to learn more, he diverted his attention back to the little boys by the window.

“Well, my earliest memory is of Mother fighting a bunch of roughs. Their leader wanted to hold Mother’s hand and take her away. He said he had never seen a beauty like her. Mother tried to reason with him to leave her alone, but when he didn’t listen, she kicked him. So they all came to fight with her.

Out of nowhere Mother took out a knife, made it into a sword and fought them all by herself. But the leader guy was sly. He picked me up and started threatening her. She was furious. She did something with her hand, a bright red light shot up and the guy holding me went flying backwards, while Mother caught me. That scared them all and they ran away shouting. But all that fighting had injured Mother too. She was bleeding all over and was also spitting blood. I was very scared. But Mother is brave. She smiled at me, told me not to worry, collected just a few things from home and took me away.” Gungun’s face showed all kinds emotions as he spoke. But most of all, you could feel the pride the little boy felt for his Mother. She was his hero.

Listening to all this perturbed Dijun’s heart. He should have been there for her. She had been all alone while he was still alive. He had promised her, over and over, that he would never leave her alone. That he would always be with her. He had failed miserably to keep that promise. No wonder she had not believed him and walked away, when he had said no one was more important to him than her. After what she had gone through, after what he had inadvertently put her through, how could she ever believe him? Why should she believe him? His heart broke at the thought. The ring on Xiaobai’s finger glowed again.

Ah-li’s eyes had grown as big as saucers. “Wow, what an amazing story! I am so proud of Fengjiu Jiejie. Tell me more.”, Ah-li said leaning closer.

“More? Well there are so many stories like this. A few months later, Mother had started covering up the Phoenix feather on her forehead with something she called cosmetics. She had also started dying my hair black so we could both look more like mortals. At that time she ran a small tea stall in a different town. One day it started raining heavily and before we could wrap up our stall and go home, we were both drenched. Her cosmetics had washed away and the Phoenix feather on her forehead glowed. I thought it looked so pretty, but there was a mortal nearby who saw and told everyone she was a demon. People gathered around us and wanted to throw all kinds of things at us. The bad guy jeered at us, he told everyone to capture Mother and hand her over to him. Mother did something clever this time. She did some magic to make the black snake come out of his sleeve. And then she told everyone that the guy himself was a bad wizard and he kept black snakes as pets. That scared everyone long enough and we ran away.”, Gungun recalled.

“You ran away to where? What did you do after running away? Did the bad guy chase you? Tell me, tell me, tell me....”,  Ah-li begged to know more.

“He tried to chase us, but we were too fast for him. Mother flew us away to nearby forest and we took shelter in a cave that time. Her magic had hurt her though. She was spitting blood for so many days after that. She said it was because of backfire from her magic. Immortals were not allowed to use magic in mortal realm, so it was like a punishment. ”

“We began living in that cave. We did not have any quilts etc in there, but Mother made us beds with some grass and we kept fire running at the door all the time. Mother said it kept the wild animals away. She worked hard there too. She would take me on her back and go gathering fruits and hunting during the day. At night she would feed me first and eat only if something was left over. She used to get fever at night for several nights - may be because of the back fire or the cold in that cave. But at least we were safe from bad guys for the time being. In spite of all this, she always kept smiling and told me I was enough for her to be happy. I tried to help as best as I could. Slowly things got better as Mother recovered. We lived in that cave for several months, all the way till winter was almost starting.”

“That’s an amazing story! I wish I could have been there with you both. I would have also helped and would have also enjoyed the adventures.”, Ah-li sighed.

Chonglin came in at that very moment. He bowed to Dijun and the little ‘your majesties’. He had brought dinner for Dijun and a message for the boys. “Your grandma said you both need to come with me. I will help you wash up for dinner.”, he said.

Gungun looked at Dijun as if asking for permission silently. He didn’t really know Chonglin yet. Dijun smiled and nodded a yes. All of them left to go eat.

Dijun was alone with his wife. He left the food alone for the time being and gave her her medicine. He lovingly wiped her face and adjusted the quilt on her. He bent down and planted a soft kiss on the Phoenix feather on her forehead. Dijun sighed. Xiaobai did not stir.

He sat next to her bed as he started eating. His thoughts drifted again. He had wondered why she had stubbornly stayed away from him for almost 200 years. Even if she was mad at him, she could not have stayed mad at him for that long. She would have at least tried to meet him once. She would not have made a deliberate attempt to avoid him like that.

Her actions were becoming more and more clear now. When he did not show up for their wedding and also didn’t show up for over a couple months after that, she was forced to believe that he had given up on them. She must have believed that he had chosen Ji Feng and left her. She must have realized she was pregnant at that time. So to avoid complicating things, she had taken herself away. She had stayed away to protect his son and also to protect him.

It had been a huge mistake to hide things from her. It had been his mistake. It had been his love. She had paid the hefty price for it.

And yet, she had come. In spite of everything. When she had heard Dijun’s side of story from Chonglin and found out about his battle with Miao Luo, she had kept everything else aside and rushed to protect him.

He recalled how her delicate, fragile frame had burst in through the Star Light ward wielding her Pottery sword in front of the fearsome Miao Luo. Her graceful, agile movements had showed no trace of hesitation. She was determined to save him. Even if it meant sacrificing herself.

How could someone love him so much? How could she love him so much? Love was mysterious in many ways!

He realized that while he thought he was protecting her, she had suffered so much. For him.

And in the end it had been her who had protected him. It was the blood from her heart, the heart of the only red nine-tailed fox in the universe, that had cleansed the immense negative energy from Miao Luo. It was her blood that had destroyed Miao Luo forever, cleared up all the negative energy, broken the Star Light ward and saved him. Saved Bihai Cangling. Saved this universe from chaos.

Yes, he had underestimated her grossly. He had been captivated by her ethereal fragile beauty, her innocence. He had completely missed her strength, her perseverance and her power. Yes, she was powerful. In her own right. She had not need him as much as he had needed her, he thought wryly.

Yes, she was the only one for him.

[lovetorn]

the one where roman is your stubborn ex-boyfriend

Roman Godfrey x Witch!Reader

Summary: You try to warn Roman about Miranda, but will he listen? Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood Word Count: 2.6k A/N: i love roman godfrey. also can i just say i have no idea what this is like it was gonna be 8k words but turned out a lot shorter because i lost motivation tbh and didn’t know where to go with it; this also ends very abruptly so i’m really sorry about that. may write a part 2 but idk yet hehehe. also, i changed the show plot slightly to fit my fic :)

“Have you heard?” 

The sound of Destiny’s voice over the phone scares you slightly. After her dramatic bitch session over the girl Peter had been fucking, she stopped for a long pause, returning to the phone with a solemn tone. 

“No? Heard about what?” You answer. 

“She’s fucking him too.” Of course she is, or should you say, he is. Rolling your eyes, you sigh deeply down the line, “what like an orgy?” 

“No, like one of those relationships with three people? Uh, polyamorous?” You groan, “Spare me the details, D.” Destiny’s glamorous laugh echoes into your ear, and you can’t help but smile. 

“Please come over!” Destiny begs, her voice still full of laughter as you tell her ‘fine’ before you hang up. You bask in the morning sun that peers through the curtains of your apartment for a moment before you get moving. 

Opening the front door of Destiny’s apartment, you're met with her running up to, her eyes wide with alarm as she quickly slams the door behind you. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, thoughts running a mile a minute as she frantically ushers you to sit. 

“I saw her in my visions, Y/n. I-I don't know what it means, but I don’t trust her, and neither should my cousin,” She stutters. Your eyes flicker between hers as you sit her down on the couch. 

“When did this happen?” Destiny points over to the jacket laying on the wooden dining room table. “When I was on the phone to you. That’s hers. I went to pick it up and boom! Instant headrush.” 

You lean back on the couch and shake your head. You're at a loss for words. The fact that Peter could be in danger scares you; but more importantly, it's his ex-best friend’s safety that makes you panic more. 

“Have you talked to Roman?” You ask. Destiny’s head snaps towards you, shocked you even brought him up. She shakes her head and grasps your hands. “Have you?”

You inhale deeply, “No.” Destiny sighs, “We don’t have to talk about him, you know. I know your break up was pretty messy.” You let out a small laugh at her concern. 

“I’m okay, I promise. It was like 9 months ago, D.”

She nods and turns to look at the folded jacket, wanting to change the subject. “Did you want to look?” She throws her thumb behind her as you suck in a sharp breath. 

“Yep.”

The jacket lays on the table in front of you, and you stare at the leather.

“It will keep him safe…” You trail off, meeting Destiny’s eyes as she smiles softly. The doubt in the pit of your stomach is unsettling, but you need to see the vision. You huff before tilting your head side to side and shaking out your arms. Sweeping your hair back, you square your shoulders. Destiny gives you a reassuring look, although there's tinges of regret and panic in her eyes. You purse your lips while your heart beats rapidly in your chest and your ears. 

As soon as you reach down and let your fingers graze over the material, you're transported into a series of flashes—snakes and blood on the walls, the floor, everywhere. The screams you hear are far away, but they’re close enough for you to catch the utter agony that powers them. Your eyes move wildly under your eyelids as you search for something that will tell you anything. Tears line the edge of your waterline, and the guttural screams grow nearer, the cries rattling your bones until you squeeze your eyes shut and rip your hand away from the jacket. 

You step back in utter terror. You feel sick as pure fear and anxiety churns in your stomach. The blood-curdling screams still reside inside your brain as you walk towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” Destiny yells. 

“Roman’s.”

—

Stopping in front of Roman’s new house, you scoff. Last time you were here was when he first bought it, and you left screaming and crying—a perfect storm for a perfect couple. 

It was also the last time you saw him. The two of you were freshly 18 and were addicted to the speed of your relationship; a year in and he was already asking you to move in with him. It was built to fail: his mother and your ancestors, your kind, weren’t a good mix. Olivia had threatened you more times than you can count, but Roman always defended you, even if you didn’t need him too. Maybe that’s why you fell so hard so quickly, because he was there when you needed him. To protect and to love. But then you fell apart and were never to fall together again.

Stepping up the front door, your hand goes slack against the door. Do you just barge in? Or be the polite ex-girlfriend and knock. You go for the latter and bang your fist against the pale timber. Not a second later, the door swings open and you’re met with a blonde girl. 

“Hi—” “You must be Miranda. I was just wondering if Roman’s in?” You cut in, stepping through the doorway despite her distress. “Um, you can’t just walk in,” She says as you look at the top floor, hoping to see the lean man hovering above. 

“Lovely house he’s got. Ugh, I remember seeing this and telling him it was the one.” You laugh. This sentence causes Miranda to pause in her spot, her face scrunching up in confusion. 

Looking towards the kitchen, two pairs of eyes are staring at you and, you have to hold in a laugh. 

“Peter! Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you,” You almost squeal as you rush towards him. He looks back at Roman in shock as you engulf him in a hug. “How have you been?”

Peter swallows with an unsure expression on his face, “Yeah, good.” You smile at him and then peer over his shoulder at your ex-boyfriend. 

“What are you doing here, Y/n? And cut the shit.” He mutters. He’s blunt with his words, but you understand why. It was messy. 

“Shit? I speak of no such thing, Mr Godfrey,” You give him a tight-lipped smile, sarcasm thick in your voice. You step back from Peter and watch as Roman saunters over to you. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks again, this time his tone is icy, and his stare is hard. 

“Does she know?” You ask before you say your true intentions, waving your hand in the air. Roman shares a look with Peter before shaking his head. You run your tongue along your front teeth then nod. 

“Ok. Well, firstly, I had a vision.” The sentence has Miranda instantly asking questions but is quietened by Peter who puts his hand up. Roman furrows his brows and steps closer to you, “What do you mean? About what? Does Destiny know?” The number of questions leaving his lips prompts you to lift your finger to stop him. 

“Destiny had the same one.” 

Roman glances over at Peter who shrugs. “When did this happen?” 

“Half an hour ago,” You move to sit on the couch as the boys stand and Miranda cowers in the corner. “And it’s very important.” You strain your voice so only Roman can hear. 

“Okay, well, tell me.” He says. You deadpan him as the corners of his mouth turn upwards slightly. 

“The woman you have both been fucking, she’s dangerous.”

From her spot, Miranda is overcome with anger as she pushes off the wall and stomps towards you. You keep a calm facade as she throws her arms in every direction whilst she’s talking. 

“Who do you think you are? Coming here at 8 am to run your mouth about God knows what and insult me and especially these boys.” 

You raise your eyebrows for a split second before standing from the couch to move in front of her. 

“Alright,” Roman buts in, his voice booming through the glass house. “That’s enough, Y/n. You can’t just come in here and insult her. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“You hardly know her! You don’t even know what she’s capable of,” You bite, spinning towards him. 

“I’m gonna go see Nadia.” 

You don’t recognise the name as you cock your head at Roman. 

“Who’s Nadia?” Roman freezes at the question. His shoulders tense and his body rigid as you tilt your head, waiting for his response. You grow impatient as the question lingers. At this point, Miranda has gone upstairs, and you watch as she punches in a code for a door. 

“She’s um—Letha’s.”

Your heart drops at the sound of your late best friend’s name. “You’re telling me…” You can’t find it in yourself to find the words as rage erupts in your stomach. 

“You’re letting a stranger look after Letha’s child?” You yell, “Peter?” 

“I only found out about her last week, Y/n. I’m as in the dark as you are.” He mumbles, head dropping towards the floor as you peer back at Roman. 

“The vision I saw was fucked up. If you saw them like I did, I’m sure you would feel the same, and you would want to be miles away from her right now.” You could cry at the sheer naivety of him. 

“You’re letting a complete stranger in on our lives! If anything, I’d be better off caring for my best friend’s child than some whore you picked up from the bar.”

The sound of footsteps catches your attention as you narrow your eyes at Miranda walking back down the stairs. She makes her way towards Peter and stands next to him as you are face-to-face with Roman.

“She’s feeding you vicious lies, Ro. Please listen to me.” You don’t beg, and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but it’s in moments like these, you need him to listen to you; to trust you again. 

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, doll.” You roll your eyes and try your best to bite back a snide remark. 

“I’m telling you this because I love you, Roman, not because I’m jealous; don’t flatter yourself. Maybe start to think with your brain instead of your dick,” You place your palm on his cheek before you bring his other cheek to your lips, placing a kiss against his silky skin. “You know where to find me, baby.” Patting the side of his face, you step back, and without acknowledging Peter and Miranda, you walk out of the front door. 

Watching your retreating body, Roman feels a pang of remorse in his chest; the feeling leaving him breathless for only a moment before Miranda speaks.

“What a bitch,” She spits before Roman shoots her a stern look, “Don’t call her that.” He stares longingly at the door and then his legs take him upstairs and into his room, leaving the pair downstairs. 

—

Getting a call from Roman was odd. You assumed he deleted it when you broke up, but looks like he didn’t. The words that slipped out of his mouth hadn’t shocked you, but you felt like breaking down at the thought of Nadia missing. You hung up without a word, and every action you did after the phone call was aggressive, your anger evident everything you did. 

Storming up the driveway of his house, you spot Roman in the doorway, remorse painting his features. The look of anger on your face almost scares him and as he backs into the house with you coming at him. 

“I fucking told you I had a bad feeling and now look what she’s done! I can't believe you let this happen, Roman! I know you’re touch-starved and dying for female attention but come on, I saw this happening a mile away.” You snap, running your hand through your hair as Roman cowers with guilt. You hadn’t seen that expression before. 

You slam the front door behind you and glare at him. His look of regret slips and then irritation sets on his face. There he is. 

“And where were you? Hm? Probably off fucking some scum from the bar in town whilst I was worried shitless about my daughter.” Your eyebrows almost fly to your hairline as you listen to his newfound confidence. Rolling your eyes, you wave him off and turn to leave. You can’t bear to listen to his bullshit assumptions. 

“That’s right! Walk away like you always do.” He seethes, a frown contorting his features. You know he’s only saying that to get a rise out of you, it’s his specialty. So you don’t react to piss him off even more. You spin around to meet his hard stare again and stomp towards him, your finger up to press against his firm chest. 

“You really wanna go there, Godfrey? Really?” You see a flash of regret pass over his cold eyes before he leans down to your eye level. His face is vacant of any expression when he growls a response. “Yeah, I wanna fucking go there, dollface.” 

Your face screws up before you huff and step away from him. You bring your hands to rest on your cheeks as you feel tears sting your eyes. 

“I can’t believe you’ve let this happen,” You murmur. Roman growls, but when you look at him, he’s staring at the wall trying to stop the tears blurring his vision. 

“Where’s Peter?” You ask. 

“Fuck knows!” He yells, and you cringe slightly. Roman’s eyes go wide as he watches you shrink away. His face falls before he puts his hands up in front of him. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Y/n,” He says softly. You give him a small smile as you reply, “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

His gaze falls to the floor before he sees your shoes. “Come here.”

Roman looks up to see you with your arms outstretched. You tilt your head when he doesn’t move and shift to wrap your arms around his torso. Being alone with Roman was different from when you were in a group. You couldn’t quite explain it, but he was far more emotional around you. 

“Hug me back, Ro,” You feel his shaky hands on your back as he bends down slightly, resting his head on your shoulder. Despite his arms around you, his body remains stiff.

“Loosen up; it’s just me.”

“Sorry, my family was never really the touchy-feely type.” he spits softly, “But you already knew that.” You only laugh and squeeze him tighter. 

Feeling his heartbeat comforts you. You haven't been this close since your break up, and even that was closer than this. You wish you never heard it; his cries against your skin. The sound and the vibrations make your breath hitch and your body freeze. 

“Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” You whisper, backing up until the backs of your knees hit the couch. Roman pulls away for a second as you lay down before he clambers on top. He lays his head on your chest and wraps his long arms around you. You wonder if he can actually fit on the couch or if his legs are bent awkwardly, but choose not to bring up the topic. 

“Could you play with my hair? Please?” Your eyes widen at the sound of the verb and the smallness of his voice, “I’m not gonna ask again, Y/n.” And there he is, the usual Roman. You roll your eyes and work your nimble fingers into his hair, the soft strands like silk against your skin. 

His sniffles eventually seize, and his body stops shaking as he calms down. 

“We’ll find Nadia. I promise you, Ro.”

[hopelikethemoon]

Moros (Ezra x Reader) || {Moonbeams} || [smut]

Title: Moros  Rating: Explicit Length: 3,900 Warnings: Mild angst, pregnant!reader, and light sexual content in the form of masturbation.   Notes: Honestly, I think the first half of this is some of the best writing I’ve ever done.  Part thirteen of the Moonbeams series.

Taglist: @princessbatears @djarin-junk @absurdthirst @hdlynn @legally-a-bastard @opheliaelysia @heather-lynn @sabinemorans @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @pedrospunk @maybege @chews-erotically @katlikeme @lose-eels @youmeanmybrain @theindiealto @irishleesh93 @seawhisperer @hdlynn @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol  @grapemama @roxypeanut @kochamcie @kiwi-the-first @hellomothermoon @soft-fanfics @spacegayofficial @storiesofthefandomloversreblogs @kindablackenedsuperhero @goblinqueen95 @nominalnebula @wheresthewater @letmybabysleep @hayley-the-comet @corrupt-fvcker @i-ship-it-ironically @mrsparknuts @the-feckless-wonder @gamingaquarius​  @findhimfives​

Despite how disparagingly Ezra often spoke of Lykaios — as far as moons went, it was actually beautiful. It had a lush forest, rolling meadows, and at least two seasons. 

If that was where you would have to call home for the foreseeable future, you weren’t going to complain. You just had to look past the trio that wanted to hurt you and the semi-feral werewolves that also called it home. 

Arcadia, on the other hand, was surreal. Even from above the planet during your descent, you were struck by the planet’s beauty. There were snowcapped mountain peaks, expansive fields cut through by wide rivers that led to the sea, and waterfalls.

It made your heart hurt to think that just beside Lykaios was a planet that had everything Ezra’s heart longed for. How many times had he told you that he missed the sea? 

You landed in an open meadow and armed yourself with your stun gun and a long armed blaster loaded with the silverline Shiva had given you. Proctor had made numerous visits to the planet — it couldn’t be that dangerous, right? 

Though you did wonder why Sybil didn’t know about it. What was he keeping from her?

You ventured out towards one of the rivers you had spotted from above. There appeared to be an outcropping of rocks that looked similar to lunaxium deposits you had seen on Lykaois. That was the key — you just had to find out whether or not the planet could sustain Ezra’s need. You hesitated to call it an addiction, because he did actually need to take the substance. 

But sometimes it reminded you of Ay-7 and the illicit affairs that could be found in the back rooms of popular cantinas. That blissed out, out-of-body look. At least Ezra came down off of it fairly quickly, though you sometimes wondered if he only took enough to bide himself through the discomfort until you were gone. 

You trusted Ezra with your life, but you didn’t trust him to not lie about his own life. And maybe that had nothing to do with being a werewolf and everything to do with being a drifter. You had to build up walls to keep yourself safe. 

You wore your heart on your sleeve, but you weren’t afraid to do what had to be done. 

Sometimes you caught yourself wondering if you would’ve even liked Ezra if you had met him on a prospecting venture. He could be grating at times — especially if he knew more about a topic. He’d go on and on about it until you forgot what had sparked the discussion at first. He hated being wrong, but he was quick to apologize. Plus, you knew he had a long list of dead partners which made you wonder if that would’ve been you too. 

It stung to even think of that because you knew what it was like to stare down the barrel of a blaster held by someone you loved. And that was why Alia was never discussed. 

But Ezra wasn’t Mars or Alia or anyone else that you had given misplaced emotions to. As irrational as it seemed — Ezra didn’t seem like the type to pretend, even if he was just lonely. He was too brutally honest to mislead you. 

You holstered your stun gun on your thigh as you approached the river. It must have rained recently because it had risen up over the edge of the bank, running rapidly downstream towards the sea. The water was a vibrant shade of blue, a mirror reflection of the brilliant sky above and the shiny stones that lined the riverbed. 

You knelt down and dipped your fingers into the water, wiggling them in the current as it flowered around them. There were fish — which was a welcome surprise. Lykaois had no major water sources, aside from the occasional shower or snow. 

You pulled your fingers out of the water and watched your reflection in the smooth surface of the water. Your face was distorted by the current and the edges bled out into waves of darkness that seemed to sink into the riverbed. 

“What the—“ You murmured to yourself as you reached out and dipped your finger into the water, watching as it cut your reflection in two but the darkness seemed to pulse with life. 

You stood up abruptly and took a stumbling step away from the riverbank. The darkness seemed to rise up and out of the flow, before fanning out across the ground beneath you. 

You scrambled to your feet, spinning around to look for the darkness but it was gone and all that remained was your own shadow. 

You grabbed your longarm off your shoulder, aiming it at the ground. “What are you?” You questioned, keeping your finger trained on the trigger. 

Your shadow expanded across the ground, growing upwards before it spoke. “I have encountered many mortals who have found their way onto this planet, yet not one that came before you tried to shoot their own shadow.” The rich masculine timbre of the figure’s voice made something quake within you. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” You retorted, not letting up on your aim. 

The shadowy figure chuckled lowly as it moved beyond your shadow, stepping to the left and shifting into a new shapeless form. “I am only what you make of me. What do you see when you look at me?” 

“I see…” You squinted as you tried to focus on the darkness, but every time you thought it came into focus it transformed into something unrecognizable. “I don’t know.”

“A path unset. Fascinating.” The figure stretched out across the ground, before rising upwards and taking on a new form. The darkness was thick and yet you could see straight through it. 

“You came here seeking answers,” The voice questioned, turning an accusatory tone towards you. “You think you can defy the verdict of the fates because of love.” 

You took a step backwards, glancing behind you towards the river before looking back at the figure. “I didn’t come here to defy anyone. I came here because someone I love was unjustly cursed because of the actions of someone centuries ago. I just want to find somewhere we can go together safely.” 

The figure must have noticed the way you unintentionally passed your hand over your stomach. 

“A child.” He spoke, moving towards you. “One of the few creatures in the universe that spring up with an unknown future laid out before them. Born innocent, clean… No other offspring have such autonomy. Seedlings sprout up, destined to nourish the earth. Mice are born to feed the snake and hawk. But a baby…” A hand stretched out from the darkness, reaching towards your stomach. 

You took a step backwards, teetering on the edge of the riverbank. Trapped between the darkness and the rushing water. “Don’t touch me.” 

The voice laughed harshly. “You have already been touched by me. These hands have wrapped themselves around you, around Ezra, and around the star in your belly. Everything that lives has been touched by me.” 

The shadow grew, the transparent tendrils knit together into the flowing robes of a physical being. But before you could wrap your head around what you saw the riverbank beneath your feet gave way and you sank into the mud. 

You braced yourself to be swept away by the river’s flow, but instead you landed on smooth stone. You opened your eyes, heart beating rapidly as you took in your surroundings. 

Grand columns sprang upwards with roots winding around them. The columns shimmered blue like the river stones you had marvelled at. The walls were chiseled out of stone, covered with brilliant murals and intricate designs. Depictions of epic battles and tender moments. 

“Hello?” You called out, slowly walking through the cavernous space. Your voice echoed off the stone, rippling through the emptiness like a pebble skimming the surface. 

The path you took wound its way towards a narrow corridor. Within the corridor — suspended between the darkness at either end — was a thin red string that was drawn taut. 

Something told you not to touch and you heeded that quiet warning. You took a step backwards, despite the desire to step into the corridor and follow the thread. 

The darkness seemed to swell, engulfing the thread as the stone wall sealed the narrow passage closed. 

“You are steadfast.” 

You spun around to face the figure from before. The dark robes billowed out over a transparent shadowy form. 

“I have seen the bravest warriors succumb to the temptation of knowing. How quick the threads were cut.” The shadowy figure beckoned you closer and you obeyed. “There is a way to break the curse that has become a plight for the one you love. But it won’t be easy. It won’t be free.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” 

“You don’t.” His voice dripped with amusement. “The one before you — Bernard. He was close. A breath away from knowing the taste of freedom,  but there were debts that had to be repaid.”

“Are you the reason he died?”

“No. That was the folly of man. Only a fool thinks he can outrun fate.” The figure traced his tendril like fingers over your forehead. “They tried to pry him from your mind, didn’t they?”

“Yes.” 

“But you resisted by sheer power of will.” 

“I guess you could say that.” 

“I have a proposition for you.”

You arched a brow, “I’ve made a lot of bad deals in my life, but making one with a shadowy figure seems like a mistake.”

“It could be. That’s the beauty of choice. You can walk away now. Or it could be the answer you seek.” The figure told you briskly. “I could untether your beloved from the moon and he could float far beyond your reach…”

“That doesn’t sound like a deal I’m interested in.” 

“But how sweet would it be to know that he would still choose your company if he were no longer bound to Lykaois. That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?” 

You swallowed thickly, “And what would I have to do?” 

The shadow chuckled darkly, “You would have to keep our secret. You would come to me on each departure and do my bidding as I please. Once you have done all that I desire, I will release him from the chains.”

“What about my child?”

The shadow seemed to consider that, “I cannot interfere with a life not yet known. A pity, truly. But perhaps I will feel munificent when we part at last.”

Were you really going to do this? 

“So in exchange for Ezra and our baby’s freedom from Lykaois, all I have to do is keep a secret and spend time with you once a month doing what you tell me to do?”

“Indeed. The tasks you find here will not be simple, but you will find yourself better for them. Choice has a way of bolstering mortal morale.” 

The dark shape extended its hand to you, “Do we have a deal?”

You hesitated for a mere second, before reaching out to grasp at the hand. Your palm burned, white hot heat searing through the lines in your palm as you sealed your fate. 

A beeping sound cut through the darkness swimming in your mind. You opened your eyes slowly, taking in the dim light of your quarters. You were in your bed…

The mechanical whir of your ship’s engine caught your attention. 

And the beeping. 

“Shit.” You mumbled as you snatched up your datapad and tapped the notification. It took a second for the connection to go through, “I’m so sorry, Ezra… I must’ve fallen asleep.” Had you though?

“I was worried,” He drawled out. “You said you would check in once you got into orbit and that should’ve been… ten hours ago.”

Ten hours?

You clicked off the connection channel and looked at your call log. He’d tried to connect with you a dozen times over the last ten hours. 

“I must’ve laid down to rest my eyes and… ten hours?” You rubbed at your eyes as you moved to get out of your bed. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Ezra.”

“Don’t apologize, moonbeam.” Ezra assured you. “I am just relieved to hear your voice. Your condition has changed, it’s expected that you would need to sleep more…”

Ezra continued rambling and you tuned him out momentarily as you made your way to the cockpit to check the systems. There was no trace of your landing on Arcadia. 

“Moonbeam?”

“Sorry, sorry!” You told him quietly. “I sat my datapad down to check on the flight path. I didn't intend to fall asleep that long.”

“Are you well, little lamb?”

“Just groggy.” You assured him. “How are you?”

“Better now that I can hear your voice.” Ezra drawled out warmly. “I thought the worst.”

You frowned as you looked at the datapad, “I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t know what happened.”

But the tingling in your palm reminded you of what did happen. The secret you had to keep from him. The choice you made that could’ve been a mistake of epic proportions. 

“I can’t say we got much sleep your last night here,” Ezra pointed out with a short laugh. “You were probably fatigued.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you sank back in the jump seat. “I think you’re right. You wore me out, Ezra.” 

Silence lingered between the two of you for a moment, before Ezra spoke again, “I miss you.” 

“It’s only been half a day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He retorted smoothly. “The second your ship departs this moon, I feel the ache of your absence.”

“You should try your hand at writing poetry.” You teased, “And then tell me how you pine for me.” 

“I do pine for you, moonbeam.” Ezra assured you, his voice like honey and easily melting away your worries. “I sit here in this metal coffin and count the seconds until I’m not alone without you.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” You reminded him. “I just need to see the medic, handle a few things with Shiva, and then I’ll be on my way back to you.” 

“I wish I was there with you.”

“So do I.” You sighed quietly, flipping a switch in the panel before heading into the living area. “Do you want me to bring anything back?”

“Just you.” 

You snorted a little as you stretched out on the sofa, “So no food, huh?”

Ezra grumbled, “I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to more honeysticks.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You laughed softly, propping the datapad up against your legs. “I can’t imagine you turning down sweets.”

He hummed, “You can always surprise me, moonbeam. I think you know what my tastes are. It’s often difficult to know what I miss when it’s been so long.” 

“I’ll see what I can bring back for you.” You assured him, already thinking about what you could track down for him on the Block. 

“Where are you in the transport?”

“On the sofa.” You told him, “I go from one soft surface to the next.” 

He chuckled heartily, “Still groggy?”

“A little.” You chewed on your bottom lip, “I don’t know if I’m just hyper-aware of my condition or things are starting to change.” It wasn’t much, but you definitely noticed that you felt different and that had nothing to do with what happened on Arcadia. 

“Just take care of both of you,” Ezra said with an edge of emotion in his voice that made your heart hurt. “It is still a surreal event to know that I have brought life into this world.”

“Tell me about it.” Your hand went to your stomach. “I still think it’s a dream.” 

“A good dream?”

“The circumstances may not be ideal, but it’s still a good dream.” You told him warmly, wishing you could reach out and smooth the worry line between his brows. You could picture him so clearly, that swirling look of concern in his kind eyes. “Have you used your lunaxium today?”

“Yes.” He huffed. “I am fine, little lamb. The beast has been sated for now.”

“I bet the beast misses me too.” You teased.

“You have no idea.”

You blinked slowly as you stared at the datapad. “Oh?”

Ezra chuckled, “You know how the beast feels about you.”

“Do I?” 

He groaned, “Don’t be cruel.”

“You’re right.” You said with a put-on mournful tone. “But I’m just laying here on my sofa thinking—”

“That you’re going to drive me mad?” Ezra questioned, breathing heavily. “Fuck. I think about that night whenever we’re apart. Five years I went without feeling another person’s touch and then there was you… I tried to ignore how it felt to have you in my arms — you were injured, you needed my help.”

“I remember laying in your bed and marveling at your book collection.” You mused quietly, listening closely to the raspy sound of Ezra’s breathing on the other side of the com. 

“You marveled in my bed.” He retorted, a quiet groan escaping him. 

“That’s it, Ezra.” You drawled out, knowing exactly what he was doing right now. “Are you picturing that it’s my hand?”

“Mouth.” His voice cracked.

You smirked to yourself, “Look at you, letting me take care of you.” 

He swore under his breath. “I love your mouth.” 

“I love your cock.” 

Ezra hissed out your name and you knew he’d reached his end. He was quiet, but you could hear his labored breathing as he came down from the high of the moment. “Moonbeam, I—“

“Go to sleep, Ezra.” You told him softly. “You’ve been wound up worrying about me and you should relax.”

“I’m very relaxed right now.” 

You laughed softly, “I bet you are.” 

“When you get back to the Block, call when you can.” He urged. “I want to know how your appointment goes.”

“I’ll try to call you every night.” You promised him. “Take care of yourself during the full moon.” 

“I will.” Ezra sighed softly. “I love you, moonbeam.” 

“I love you too.”  

“Do you have something to say?” You questioned as you stepped around Shiva to get to the display of hyper cables. “Otherwise that look is starting to creep me out.” 

“I have a lot to say.” Shiva retorted, pointing at the white cables, “You’ll want those.” They gave you another lingering look. “Unfortunately the surplus merch doesn’t carry common sense.” 

You rolled your eyes as you snatched two of the cables off the rack. “Is this about what I think it's about?” 

Shiva lowered their gaze to your stomach, “I clearly don’t know Ezra. A few days camped out on the moon with him and I thought he was the pragmatic sort, but nooo.” They folded their arms across their chest. “You’re really going to keep it?”

You shrugged a shoulder, brushing past them in pursuit sealant tape to repair some of the damage to the hull of Ezra’s transport. “It wasn’t a decision we came to lightly. Ezra wasn’t thrilled at first, but…” You looked back at Shiva. “It’s something we decided together.” 

They narrowed their eyes at you and dropped their voice low, “You don’t even know if you’re carrying an actual werewolf.” 

Quinn popped his head over the top of the shelving unit, “Did you say you needed the aero rustant?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Did you find any?”

“No.” He snapped his fingers, “But I did decide I’m going to call it puppy.” 

You glared at him, “You should be so thankful that I’m unarmed right now. You have such a pretty face, it would be a shame to see it ruined.”

Quinn looked to Shiva, “Did you hear that? She called me pretty.”

“Find the aero rustant.” Shiva said dryly, jerking their head in a “get lost” motion. Quinn’s interference didn’t get you off the hook, however. They turned to look at you again, “I just worry about you. We don’t know what you’re actually having, he could change his mind, something could happen to you again…” 

“Trust me. We’ve considered all of it.”

“I mean, what if those guardian people get ahold of you?” Their hands went to their hips, “I’m not going to put up with you not remembering who your child’s father is. Especially if it’s going to come out furry and canine.”

“Kevva preserve me.” You hissed, stepping around Shiva. “Can I please just look for what I need in peace?”

“No. Someone has to be the voice of reason around here.” Shiva insisted. “Just don’t get your heart set on this. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I get that.” 

Quinn strolled down the aisle towards the two of you, “I found the rustant.” 

“Thanks.” You held out your hand, but he didn’t pass it to you. 

“The warnings say pregnant individuals shouldn’t use it.” 

“Quinn.” You snapped.

He grinned cheekily and tossed it to you, “Feisty. I always liked that about you.”

You brushed past him and headed for the clerk towards the front of the store to purchase everything. 

“When’s your appointment?” Shiva questioned, leaning against the counter beside you. 

“Three days.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Right now? Pissed off.” You shrugged. 

“I just want to make sure you’re thinking everything through.” They insisted. “I’ve seen you after heartbreak and it isn’t pretty. It’s not too late to walk away.”

“I can’t Shiva.” You took your parcel of goods from the clerk and started out of the store where Quinn was loitering. “This isn’t like before. Ezra and I have a deeper connection.”

“He definitely loves you,” Quinn pointed out. “As much as it pains me to admit it, but I actually liked him.” 

“Yeah, I liked him too.” Shiva admitted dejectedly. “He wasn’t what I expected.” They looked at you, “The way the two of you seemed in sync with each other was surprising.” 

“So does this mean you’re going to eventually become like him?” Quinn questioned. “How does it work?”

“That’s not something either of us want for me.” You made a face. “I’m still trying to find a way for us to have a normal life… Keep researching for me. Anything you can find on Arcadia… the curse.”

Quinn smiled a little, “I can do that. Actually meant to have more for you, but those damn debt collectors wouldn’t leave me alone. Finally got that settled.”

“Who settled that for you?” Shiva slapped the back of his head. 

You arched a brow, “You gave him money?” 

“Quinn’s a useful idiot to have indebted to you.” They shrugged. “I was mostly doing it for you. He’s got good connections and you need them.”

“Shiva—“

“I don’t have to like this, but I do have your back.”

“Thank you.”

They shrugged, “The only thing I ask for in return is that you take care of yourself.”

“I’m trying.” 

You fell into stride beside Shiva and Quinn as you headed back to the shipyard. You were trying to take care of yourself. And Ezra. And your baby.

The line on your palm tingled and you wondered if you had blindly thrown yourself into a debt that no one could help you get out of. 

[ficsnroses]

Different - Keanu Reeves x Reader

[not my gif]

summary : you attempt to explain social media to your oblivious boyfriend, Keanu, during a cute impromptu evening cuddle session.

warnings : loads of fluff! age difference [not specified], x f! reader.

words : 1.9k. 

notes : slowly working through my requests. this was requested by a lovely anon. lemme know whatcha think! as always, feedback is so so welcome.

“Hey, babe, you wanna go on a motorcycle ride?” A pondering Keanu wonders, worn out arch hat held in thick fingers. “There’s supposed to be a killer sunset soon.” Long hair outgrown freshly, his shining threads of raven hair had begun to host sporadic specks of silver; managing an appearance all the more handsome.

“Yeah, sure.” You return, eyes focused to the black mirror screen of your phone; inattentive to say the least. Eyes absorbed to the blue screen below, your breathes move slow, deliberate; relaxed. Normally, you weren’t one to centre immense attention to social media, or the raging world at your finger tips. Nonetheless; your feed just happened to be far too fulfilled today, far too many intriguing eye catchers spattered upon your personalized canvas.

“Where did uh-…” You start, eyes still motionless, caged to your device. “Where did you uh…wanna,” Paused, brows thread slight, absorbed. Eyes scrunching with your head shaken slightly, your mind struggles to produce the proper word, momentarily consumed by the images in front of you. “Go.” You blink, snapping; slight emphasis on the word when it finally finds your tongue. “Where did you want to go, baby?” Sparked interest, your tone holds curiosity; attentiveness. All hues you’d hoped Keanu understood you did have in the moment; just momentarily distracted. “You said something about motorcycle…?”

“Yeah, a ride…” Keanu begins again, observing your occupied form situated on the crème couch of his home. Keanu and you were still quite fresh, still adjusting to life together. Merely a firm 4 months into your relationship, you’d figured out one thing quite swift.

You’d keep each other around as long the universe would allow, as long as the skies let. Love is blind, you’d heard; and blind it would stay. The age difference was a factor you’d had to talk out, factor into what had grown. Yet one datum would ring true, triumphant above all.

        You love him, and he loves you.

        It was as simple as could be.

“Yenno, a ride down sunset maybe,” Keanu speaks, distracted to his train of thought when your eyes stay intent to your screen. “Up the hill to our favourite spot and…uh…” Stocky hand ran through his hair, Keanu’s voice retracts, baritone gently higher when he asks aloud. “Hey, babe, are you even listening?”

Breathing a deep inhale, your eyes flutter to your tall, deliciously handsome boyfriend. In blue jeans and a simple black shirt, he miens delectable; soft features with his full beard tamed to a beautiful fresh groom; your heart races by the second. “Of course I’m listening.” You giggle, patting the vacant spot beside your frame. “C’mere.” You smile, cellphone discarded to the fluffed cotton of the opposite pillow. Keanu carefully situates himself down adjacent, sighing with his heavy palms rested to his jean clad thighs.

He smells of pine, and a cigarette smoked hours ago. Lingering, the scent of your special shea shampoo radiates off his mane; you’d been leaving considerably more of your belongings at his place recently.

“Motorcycle ride. Sunset.” You chime, arms wrapping delicately snaked to his neck, with a gentle kiss placed to dark, stubble ridden cheek. “I was indeed listening.” Finishing, your head rests softly just under his neck to the broad of his chest, arms finding refuge wrapped around his toned torso. Keanu sighs, his own arms finding your body when they engulf around your waist, one hand rested to his thigh as his other soothes gentle, caring brushes to your hip.

      His heart thuds gentle, a quiet pacify;

      calm as that first pepper of dew on damp earth, and you sigh,

      similar to the way mother earth gratifies to the feel of fresh rain,

               kissing her roots.

“Gosh I feel old seeing you so…” His voice is full, a heavy drum like the confident sky that brings deep puddles, clear velvet gold. “…fixed on that thing.” He laments, and your hand moves to rest to his chest; offering gentle, tender rubs with the soft pad of your thumb.

“Hmm?” You wonder, gazing up to his chocolate eyes in question. He silences a moment longer, before enduring. “What even is so…interesting about that stuff?” He asks, his own palm moving to rest over yours that stills to his chest. “I mean, I’ve heard about that uh, Instant-gram thing?” He offers, hearing your soft giggle below, against his chest. “And Tweeter, I know Tweeter. Some friends use it.” He justifies, stare locked to the ceiling above. “But what even is the big deal, yenno?”

Quiet, and discreet; your chuckles struggle to contain hearing your boyfriend absolutely butcher the names of rather popular platforms. He’s adorably oblivious, and you feel yourself fall a little harder for him by the second. With a tender squeeze to his arm, you correct. “Instagram, honey. And Twitter, not Tweeter.”

Keanu throws his head back against the couch, a thick smile creeps his lips midst his own blunder. You smile a simper, fingers reaching up to scratch his abrasive beard in a tender stroke. “Also, what do you mean, Ke? It’s just…yenno, social media. It’s fun, keeps me entertained.” You explain, head still rest to his chest with your fingers mindlessly grazing, scratching his cheek. “You know, how you read books when you’ve got time to spare?” You attempt a connection.

His hold on you tightens. “I guess I just don’t get it.” Frowned, his fingers lace with yours toying; gently twining your much softer ones. “I’m too old for this stuff.” He chuckles, head thrown back yet again in a deep sigh.

You recognise Keanu often beats himself up for being older than you, habitually worries he won’t be able to give you the fun, exhilaration, adventure he would have been able to offer easier when he had been a decade fresher; less drear to his timeworn bones, scarcer gray to showered his beard.

Consoling, your grip to his delicate palm firms. “Hey. You know what, lemme show.” Reasoned off your pink stained lips, a soft kiss embeds to his shirt arrayed chest, figure stretching to grab the bulk of your phone. Excited, you open your screen, routinely beginning with Instagram. “Alright.” You enthuse, holding the phone out in between your interwoven bodies. “So, this is my feed. It contains all the accounts I follow, so I can easily see what they’re up to.” You explain, soft padded index scrolling through the stream. “In turn, people who want to see what I post follow me as well. They’re called my followers, see?” You enlighten, showing him your wide compilation of names.

“So you mean like…trackers? These are your trackers?” Keanu’s eyes squint as he gapes the screen, russet eyes struggling to focus on one certain aspect of the screen. It was all much, all new.

Intriguing, but very new.

Already, he’d been struggling to keep up. “No, Ke. That’s weird, and creepy.” You correct. “Followers, okay?” You emphasize, shifting to position your legs up on the couch in a cross seated station. “Anyway, so, I scroll through my feed, and see what people post. I can also give them a like, to show them that I’ve seen it and like it.” His head nods slowly in captivation, although those tender, chocolate eyes still break muddled; wonder dense to his brain. “Alright, and this is my explore page. It has customized posts just for me, complied of all the things I like.” You smile, showing him the screen.

“How does it know what you like?” He genuinely asks, hand raked through his generous, roasty strands. Leaning forward, his figure looms beside you, fully engaged.

“It…it just does. It sees the stuff I usually like and just…does a thing.” You half successfully explain, shifting yet again to get more comfortable.

“Well, sweetheart, that doesn’t sound too safe.” Keanu quietly doubts. “Are you sure this is safe, Y/N?”

Giggling, your arms capture around his bicep, tugging his warm, broad body closer. “Yes, grand dad. It’s safe, the entire world uses it.” Teasing, your eyes scrunch to offer him a bantered, playful expression; a smile vast situated on Keanu’s thin lips in return.

“Alright, here hold it and give it a scroll.” You offer, watching the way your phone appears rather small; dainty in his heavy grip. Keanu grasps the casing with one hand, from the base; similar to the way a middle aged women perhaps would, scrolling very slow through the page with his index finger of his spare hand accompanying.

“Why is the world dissolving?” He timidly, low toned asks, in reference to an Avengers meme. Chuckling, you rub his bicep to a beaming smile of his inability to understand internet culture, allowing his eyes to scan further in.

“Oh! Lemme show you tiktok.” Beaming, your fingers retract the phone, opening the app for him to see. Nonetheless, upon arrival to your home screen, a baffled Keanu gasps, deep baritone questioning in query. “Why are they all screaming?” He ponders, baffled with the device in grip,

and with a raging laugh, your hands exit the screen, leaving your phone to discard to the table below, yet again. “Alright, maybe we’ll save the world of tiktok for another day.”

Sighing, Keanu positions back on the couch, opening his toned arms for you to snuggle into, yet again. Against your cheek, his deep tone rumbles, voice certain with statement. “I still don’t get it.” He confesses, a gentle chuckle apparent to his suave tone. “Hey, sweetheart,” He assures, your hand taken in his. “I’m sorry these things aren’t really what I’m into. I know you like them, and care about them. I’m a little lame.” He jokes, gentle exhale to a rasped chortle.

Awed, your frame moves, just enough to tower over him slight, yet still staying situated in his embrace.

“Well,” poking his chest, you smile. “I think I like you better anyway.” Slow; gentle, your legs drape over his thighs, situating your body to straddle in his lap, arms loomed around his chest, you warmly beam between delicate kisses to his visage.

       “You make me laugh more,” a kiss to his cheek,

       “You keep me company,” a kiss to his forehead,

       “You listen to me when I need you,” a softer one to his nose,

“And, you kill spiders for me.” A final, gentler one to his silken lips; the most luxurious delight you’d ever relish in. “You live in the moment. And that’s pretty freaking cool if you ask me.” Heavy palms place to your hips, his love drunk gaze watching you shower him in nothing but pure, unconditional adoration. And he smiles,

he smiles, wholly. Knowing he had the woman he’d been waiting for, for countless lonesome nights and secluded days.

“You want to take me on a motorcycle ride to see the sunset, because you know it’s my favourite. You really are something else.” You quietly express, awestruck. “Something special grows inside you.” Sincerely, your eyes pierce into his soul, illuminating. Quiet, content, gratified, you pull him closer, whispering; “You’re really something else, Ke.”

Finally, to the sound of his appreciative hum, you soothe, flattening a wrinkle on his shirted chest, grinning. “Now. I believe you owe me a sunset, Reeves.”

And to the sound of your silken tone; fresh as summer flowers and soft running water, Keanu grins, his voice a knowing smile, gentle kiss daubed to your forehead.

        “A thousand sunsets fall nothing compared to you, baby.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

[toraashi]

princess au ft. chuuya nakahara

Title: Untitled Princess AU

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Genre: Fluff and light angst. One of the awful aristocrats makes a comment about you eating too much, forbidden love *gasp*

Word Count: 1,754

Author’s Note: Hiii! Here it is, the princess au I keep hyping up. It’s actually decent, I won’t lie to you, so I hope you enjoy it! 16 year old me was the biggest weeb (I still am rip), so there is a Kamisama Kiss reference in here I’m cringing but I promise it’s not bad!! Please hmu with your bodyguard!chuuya brainrot to feed my lonlieness when you’re finished reading :)

She reached across the table to select a raspberry pastry, her fingers brushing against the red-head’s as they left her side. He visibly tensed, but she ignored it, along with the minute pang she felt in her chest. The dessert was flaky and crumbly in her fingers, it’s deep, striking red jelly oozing through the cracks in the glazed surface. 

“My oh my, are you stuffing your face with delights again? How unsavory.” The person in question twisted her head, hiding her scarlet stained gloves behind her back. 

“Lady Nikolina!” She elicited a wry smile from the woman, whose cold eyes disapprovingly darted to her out of view fingers.

“You really ought to think about that figure of yours more. Before you know it, you could be a cream puff! Suitors want slim ladies, dear, not large ones.” A strike of crimson striped her smooth cheeks and she nodded.

“Of course, My Lady.” The princess could practically see her devoted bodyguard’s seething gaze, he always had disliked Lady Nikolina, after all. The protectiveness radiating off of him was comforting, and soon the blush she beheld wasn’t being caused by the snobbish Marquiess before her. 

“Speaking of suitors-”

“Actually, my apologies, Nikolina, but I’m afraid I’ve got a dance coming up, and I can’t possibly wait. We shall have to continue this lovely little talk at a later date.” Casting the woman a charming smile, she scurried off, pulling Chuuya along with her. He immediately split their hands.

“Princess.” Their gazes met, his swirling pools of cerulean reprimanding her without a single spoken word, but she got the message, and it burned another hole into her soul. 

He couldn’t be with her.

He didn’t want to be with her. 

Tears prickled her lashes like raindrops, but she pushed them back, refusing to show vulnerability amongst a crowd of powerful politicians and kings. She could see his hues soften, and then harden merely seconds later, his hand habitually reaching to adjust his hat. His familiar mouth looked so inviting, his orbs safe and comforting, but they were not hers. 

When she had admitted her flaming affection to him, she had been sure that he had reciprocated those passionate emotions winding around her heart, but he had swiftly shut her down, all of the fleeting touches and lingering bouts of eye contact dissipating like boiling water, vanishing like a ship at sea, breaking like her fragile heart. 

Sweeping her scarlet skirts up into her hands, she traversed the expanse of the ballroom, waving politely to trading partners and their stunning wives, nearly tripping over her golden heels if it weren’t for her companion’s lightning reflexes. A murmured ‘thank you’ kissed her lips, but she was quick to continue walking, her dance card heavy in her pocket. 

“Princess! It’s almost time for our dance! Wherever have you been?” 

“Lord Mizuki. I was conversing with the lovely Lady Nikolina, I’m afraid.”

“Ah. And what positively thrilling topic did you discuss this time?” A laugh escaped her lips as she gazed up at the snow-headed boy.

“My less than attractive addiction to the cook’s tarts, per usual.” Mizuki's emerald colored eyes followed her every moment as she chuckled at her previous encounter; he held his ivory hand out to her.

“Let’s dance, shall we?” The only person she wanted to dance with was Chuuya, but she obliged, letting her dainty palm rest against his. To say she was shocked when he reached forward and urgently grabbed her forearm was an understatement. 

“Chuu...ya?” He immediately released her. 

“You better come back right after.” She huffed, swiveling her gaze away from his alluring eyes and letting her suitor tug her away.

He swept her out to the dance floor with grace and agility, weaving through the herds of human beings like a serpent, one hand resting on her corseted waist. Once the waltz had begun, he twirled her and moved her with ease, his grace and royal privilege shining through like the golden sun. His firm grip on the curve of her body was relaxing and coaxing, as if catching her hesitance and disliking for the ordeal. 

“My lady, what was that all about with your… bodyguard, is it? I’ve heard he is quite extraordinary.” She let her eyes flutter up to meet his, mind breezing towards Chuuya’s form, his strong arms and beautiful hues.

“You are correct, Lord Mizuki, Chuuya is quite effective. He has his faults, for example, his extreme impatience and impossibly short tempered, but I’ve known him since I was a child.” She looked fondly over at his tense form, narrowed eyes and locked jaw. “He is awfully protective.” 

“As I can see.” She averted her eyes back to her dance partner, whose own were sharp and limpid, staring directly at the opposing man. 

“Mizuki… you’ve stopped dancing.”

“Ah! Yes, my bad, pardon me, Princess.” He quickly got back into the flow, keeping in sync with the plethora of other couples. 

Once the music had faded out, she curtsied slightly towards her companion, immediately leaving the marble beneath her feet and heading towards the sidelines. Rather than immediately treading back towards her designated “lap dog”, a plan formulated in her brilliant mind, one she wouldn’t have been able to pull off with the ability user around. 

Hues flicking to Chuuya’s position (he was clearly searching for her), she scurried towards the back stairway, grabbing Lady Nikolina’s garish hat directly off of her head as a disguise. Swinging her hips in the Marquiess’ fashion, she easily traversed the velvet carpeted steps, gloved hand delicately running up the glass railing, tracing each intricate design and emblem. Lady Nikolina’s rooms were just down the hall, so she presumed that if she headed left she could discreetly loop around without causing a commotion. Chuuya wouldn’t risk a confrontation with Nikolina even if he suspected it was the princess. She flicked her hands towards the guard discriminatingly, as a sort of greeting so he knew where she was headed off to, which she hoped he assumed was her chambers. Refraining from viewing the astounding paintings of her heritage lining the towering walls and sky-breaking ceiling, she stepped forward with urgency, gold slippers clicking on the obsidian beneath her feet. She could practically feel freedom in her hands, the balcony merely meters away, she could feel the cool autumn air piercing her lungs, the comforting hum of crickets and light gabber of guests still entering her father’s party. 

The shining glass french doors were open in moments, and she spun in euphoria; no more pining suitors, no more reprimanding love interests, no more chastising Marquesses; her plan had been utterly foolproof. Except for one little detail.

Just as she had gotten used to her balcony experience, the entryway slammed open again, a deep, familiar voice slicing through the silence like a bomb, loud and uncontrollable.

“Oi! What the hell do you think you’re doing out here?! Running away like that? Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to recognize you with someone else’s hat on?!” She gulped bracing herself for the lecture to come. “You’re such a stubborn little shit. First you insist on wearing that absurdly fancy dress, then you decide to waltz with that sly snake Mizuki, and for some reason you still have the nerve to sneak away from the ball- from me!” His glare could kill the fluffiest of bunny rabbits, but it didn’t faze her.

“Well, maybe you should stop being a prick about your actions! I could care less whether you held my hand, you idiot!” She thrust her arms down to her sides. “And what does my dress or Lord Mizuki have anything to do with this?! Are you just jealous or something?!” A low growl rose from his throat like the impending rumble of distant thunder, but she was unperturbed. “I’m not stupid, Chuu! I know you feel just the same way I do! I’ve known you for years, you dumbass!” A wisp of hair tumbled in front of her eyes, shielding the building tears from the man. They rebelliously streaked down her rosy cheeks moments later anyway, like rain pouring from (e/c) clouds. She swore she heard a relenting sigh puff out into the silence, but her own quiet whimpers made her unsure of his intentions. Abruptly, one lithe arm looped around her waist tugging her in, his head balancing on top her hers and consequently sending her glittering tiara tumbling to the floor. 

“Listen up, [Name].” She felt a bout of dizziness waft over her as she breathed in his addictive scent of cologne and wine, her corset suddenly felt wound too tightly, and she couldn’t breathe. 

“Chuuya…”

“You’re a princess. I’m your bodyguard. You are supposed to be married off to a wealthy prince, not your me.” 

“I don’t care.”

“See? That’s the problem. I care because my job is on the line.” Craning her head up, she met her eyes with his shockingly blue ones, pleading from the depths of her heart.

“You’d choose your job over me?” He grumbled, fixing his hat.

“You are my job, dumbass.” Continuing to look up at him through her lashes, she tossed the bait.

“Are you saying you don’t want to lose me?” Hook. Line. Sinker. He peered back at her, a light flush across his cheeks. His gaze never left her, and they sat in a forcefield of quiet for five minutes before she made a move, leaning forward into his space. Allowing her lids to flitter closed, she met his lips boldly, the warmth from him enveloping her entire being, drawing her in, and he managed to kiss back, soon becoming more passionate than her. Hands flying to her waist, he tugged her flush against him, her arms winding around his neck and plunging into the forest of orange that topped his head. 

“[Name]...” He murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. His longing was simple to spot in his deep, flaming smooches against her lips, and she was feeling the same emotions course through her. He loved her. She loved him. They had known since they had both realized it within themselves. 

She was the first to draw away, and he immediately tried to capture her lips again, but she held him back, smiling slightly. The snarky remark lingering on her tongue melted away when she met his eyes, her heart swelling at his adoring expression. 

“You’re right,” He murmured gruffly, keeping her close. “I do love you.”

MASTERLIST

Request Here!

[haunted-by-catholic-guilt]

That's Wasteland, Baby

Emma.

Martin came back into view holding the baby, call it the fever making him emotional but he felt like he could cry, seeing his husband hold their daughter.

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for the emma au in which jm adopt a daughter!! @celosiaa

no tw i can think of!

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Martin was no stranger to being woken up suddenly.

In his years with his mum, then the institute, both his and Jon’s nightmares, it was rare he didn’t get woken up once a night somehow.

Especially with Emma.

He felt the bed shift next to him, quick jerky movements from his husband, he opened his eyes, god was he tired, and looked over to see Jon hunched over himself, shaking on the bed.

“Jon? Love?”

His husband’s eyes darted open and stared him down, and he tried his best to ignore the flash of green that slid over his dark brown eyes like the eyelid of a snake.

“What’s wrong, habibi?”

Martin moved slowly, ignoring the ache of exhaustion deep in his bones, and opened his arms, telegraphing his movements, and as soon as he did Jon let himself fall into his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline.

It was only when this happened did Martin realize why Jon seemed so...scared.

“You’re burning up, dear, can you let me go so I can get the first aid kit and your medicine?”

Jon shook his head, mumbling something about Elias, no- something about Jonah, things about people that made Martin’s heart race in rage because they hurt his husband, hurt him.

He brushed off the anger, that’s not what he needed right now.

Just then, Emma began to cry.

He cursed silently.

“Jon, love, I need to go get Emma, you need to let me go, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Luckily, that broke through Jon’s fevered and terrified haze, and he let go of Martin reluctantly, falling back down on the bed.

Martin moved as gently and as quickly as he could out of bed, before running into Emma’s nursery, she was fine, probably just hungry, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she caught whatever Jon was sick with, assuming it wasn’t stress-induced or an allergic reaction.

Or something else.

Panic wouldn’t help, he knew it wouldn’t, so he held Emma to his chest and walked into the kitchen, getting the formula ready as fast as he could.

Emma began to cry harder, and Martin was ashamed to admit that he felt some distress at this at all, but he just shushed her gently and bounced her back and forth.

The formula was done, after testing it on his wrist he sat on the couch and began to feed his baby, and for a second he let himself feel some sort of odd comfort.

Jon was ill, yes, but he knew deep down it wasn’t like before, and that the fact that Jon was willing to be held at all, and that he was willing to let go so he could take care of Emma, was an improvement.

The first time after the institute and Jonah that Jon got sick, Martin remembers how scared he was, because what if it wasn’t just the flu, what if it was withdrawal again?

It made it worse that he didn’t have anyone at that time, and now only really had a few co-workers.

And Sasha and Tim.

The first time they spoke, after they… well after they died was an interesting one, a lot of emotions for sure, as well as pain and, well, joy, after some time.

But they weren’t as close as they once were, there was still an uncomfortable feeling around when they spoke, like the feeling of waiting for a bomb to go off.

Felt a little bit like old times then…

He brushed the feeling away, Emma was almost done with her bottle, meaning he’d be able to get to go back to Jon, who had been quiet this whole time.

He stood up when he finished feeding Emma, she liked to be rocked until she fell asleep, so he carried her on one arm while making tea and getting medicine with the other.

When she fell asleep, he placed her back in the crib, kissing her head gently, and heading back into the kitchen and grabbing the items he prepared for Jon, and going back to his husband.

“Jon?”

The man pried his eyes open, blearily looking at Martin with fever hazed eyes.

“Hi, love, can I take your temperature?”

Jon nodded, letting Marin run his hand through sweaty hair as he checked his temperature.

“39.0, you’re really not doing well, love, I have some medicine and tea, can you take them for me?”

Jon let himself be lifted up, Martin was proud of him, letting care come this easily, and the small man easily took the medicine, taking a few sips of tea, before slumping forward onto Martin.

“Alright, love, you can rest now.”

Martin shifted against the headboard of the bed, he probably wouldn’t be getting much more sleep, Jon would be up having nightmares and coughing fits for the rest of the night, and likely the day, and Emma would be up again multiple more times.

The house was so quiet and eerie, it always was at night, but he usually had the comfort of Jon being there, and he still was, physically, but Martin knew that his mind was giving him a fevered tour of his past.

He took a breath, deep just like his therapist taught him, to bring himself back to the present, to ward off the fog and chill knocking at his window.

Weird how he could be cold even with the love of his life burning at his side.

He played on his phone while petting Jon’s hair gently, he stirred a few times, nightmares creeping on him, when he shook himself awake Martin would always hush him gently back to sleep, reassuring he was safe, that they were safe.

The sun began to creep up onto the window, he’d need to call in for both Jon and himself, or post onto the google classrooms Jon kept open on his laptop that he wouldn’t be calling today.

After that was done, as if on cue, Emma began to cry again.

Martin sighed before going to her nursery, changing her and placing her on his hip while he prepared the formula for her breakfast and the tea for himself, Jon would be asleep awhile longer, meaning he’d be able to set up Emma with some toys on their floor for the time being.

After feeding Emma, and bringing her playpen into their bedroom, and giving her some quiet toys, Martin sat on the bed and drank his tea, making sure to keep his eyes on both Emma, who was now trying to eat some toys that should choke on, and Jon, who was sleeping soundly curled around him.

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Jon had to run.

He had to go he had to leave he- he didn’t know where he was.

Where was Martin?

The feeling of a vice around his neck tightened and he struggled.

He needed to run.

Hands, large hands on his arms, someone calling his name and-

He opened his eyes, Martin stood over him, eyes worried, but something in them told Jon they were safe.

They were safe.

A sharp shrill cry broke him out of the trance, and Martin looked off his face and quickly stood up.

Emma.

Martin came back into view holding the baby, call it the fever making him emotional but he felt like he could cry, seeing his husband hold their daughter.

Martin’s hair was curly and messy, it didn’t look like he’d had time to get ready for the day, and Emma in a yellow one-piece, Jon recognized it as one that one of his students gifted him when they found out they were adopting Emma

Emma was resting on Martin’s shoulder, she looked pretty tired out, he assumed it had been a long night judging by the exhaustion on Martin’s face.

“Martin”

His name was a prayer and an expression of thanks all in one, and Jon could spend an eternity just looking at him.

Martin smiled softly a him, his eyes warm and safe.

They were safe.

“I’ll be right back, love, I’m going to put Emma in her crib.”

He left, but was back soon after, he sat next to Jon on the bed, gently cupping his cheek.

“How’re you feeling, love?”

Jon leaned forward, resting his face against Martin’s soft jumper.

“Better with you, hyati”

Martin chuckled, and wrapped his arms around Jon.

Jon thought for a moment about how far they’d both come, how ten years ago this wouldn’t have happened, how when they first met he was so scared of loving Martin.

He thought of the worms and the coma, and how they were both sure they wouldn’t make it, and how even after it smoothed out they didn’t know.

He felt Martin smiling in his hair.

“How’s the weather up there?”

He pulled back and looked at Martin’s eyes, a soft hazel color that screamed safety.

“Sunny and warm, habibi”