#circle firepit

[northlaneofficial]

Patio - Concrete Pavers An illustration of a sizable backyard concrete paver patio with a fire pit

[obaex]

(not) my girl - rafe cameron

summary: if rafe cameron is so sure he doesn't need to be seen with you at midsummers, you are more than happy to oblige (or) the time you drove rafe insane with jealousy.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: inspired by this post by the sweet @writingsbychlo ♡

You were curled up on Rafe’s lap, head resting on his shoulder with his arms circled around you and his fingers mindlessly tracing patterns on your thigh as he talked with his friends around the firepit in his backyard.

You had been hooking up for a few months and recently you felt like you were right on the cusp of him asking you to make things official, exclusive. You were spending nearly every night together and every time he asked to talk or wanted to hang out you got your hopes up that this would be the time he brought it up, only to be crushed over and over again.

Deep down, you knew how Rafe felt. People who were ‘just hooking up’ didn’t beg you to stay every morning, didn’t make room in their dresser for you, didn’t wake you up with featherlight kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, face breaking into a ridiculous smile when your eyes fluttered open to find his drinking you in, they didn’t call you during a panic attack after fighting with their dad, pleading to hear your voice as the only thing that would calm them down. No, you were pretty sure you knew exactly how this boy felt, but you wanted him to acknowledge it. You ached to hear him say with pride ‘that’s my girl’, to mark you as his own.

Your eyes flitted across the fire to your best friend Olivia who wiggled her eyebrows at the sight of you and Rafe together, all too aware of the situationship you were in and how badly you wanted him. You blushed and rolled your eyes back at her, just trying to enjoy this small moment where he showed his affection for you in front of other people. She winked at you before interrupting the conversation.

“Sooo, who is everyone taking to Midsummers?”

You shot her a look that screamed what the hell are you doing!? You were still holding out hope that Rafe was going to ask you, even though it was less than a week away. Maybe he had an elaborate, last-minute surprise planned?

“Feel pretty good about my date” Kelce murmured, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s cheek as she giggled. “What about you Top, still intent on macking on Rafe’s sister?” he asked. Topper threw an empty beer can at him as everyone laughed.

“I don’t know why we even bother with dates” Rafe said. “We’re just gonna dick around together all night anyway, there’s no point.” He took a swig of his beer without meeting your gaze. You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment and a painful ache in your throat as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spring forward. You met Olivia’s gaze again and she nodded encouragingly towards Rafe.

“W-what about me, Cameron?” you asked, trying to mask your feelings, to sound chill as you poked him in the side.

He looked at you sweetly, “C’mon and say what when my dad asks about you? ‘Hey dad, here’s the girl I’ve been sneaking through the back door every night and smashing while you and Rose are three doors down? Hard pass.” He laughed, focusing back on his beer and his friends as you felt his hand slide off your leg.

You allowed yourself to be genuinely upset for three days.

You didn’t sleep at Tanneyhill for the first time in months, you didn’t even answer his texts which grew increasingly more insistent the more you ignored them. You stayed home, you cried, and you contemplated what the fuck you were doing with your life. Was that really all you were to him – just someone he was sneaking around with? Did you somehow become that girl, too naïve and too stupid to see that she wasn’t and would never be anything more than a hookup?

You thought about the way Rafe reached for you and held you in his sleep, the way his hands ghosted over your body, the things he’d whisper in your ear, the times you’d ridden shotgun in his truck or he’d taken you to his favorite spot on the beach… Your heart was so sure about him, but your head throbbed with the echo of his words.

You and Olivia talked incessantly about it, dissecting everything he’d said. “Maybe he just needs a little push, a little… motivation?” she suggested, and the more you talked about it, the more you realized she was right.

If Rafe Cameron was so sure he didn’t need to be seen with you at Midsummers, you were more than happy to oblige.

The last of the hot summer sun was settling over the ocean as you climbed the front steps of the Island Club in daring three-inch heels; the added height gave your figure a perfect sway that simply begged people to watch you as you walked by. Your dress had a thigh-high slit, open back, and was the perfect color for your skin tone, illuminating you; the neckline was devilishly tantalizing, giving the desired effect of drawing all eyes to the dazzling diamond pendant that reflected the setting sun.

Rafe heard you before he saw you; rather, he heard a sea of murmurs rippling through the crowd which drew his attention to the doors just as you walked through by yourself, essentially announcing to the island that you were alone for the night.

“Geezus” he heard Topper mutter under his breath as he took you in. Normally, he would have known better and normally Rafe would have put his head through a wall for glaring at you the way he was, but even though his fists clenched in response and he wanted to turn and say something to him, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you; “Geezus” didn’t even begin to cover it.

You were always undeniably beautiful to Rafe: when you wore his oversized sweatshirt around the fire pit, when you were makeup-less in your wet bikini at the beach, and especially when you were wearing next to nothing tangled up in his limbs and his soft sheets, but the dress you had on, the way your hair shone in the last rays of the sun, the way you were positively radiating had his pulse throbbing in his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing and his palms sweating. Fuck, I am so happy she’s mine he thought to himself, smiling and moving to walk towards you as your eyes met his across the crowd.

You were glowing at him and sent him a discreet smile as you greeted people and made your way in his direction. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to have you at his side so everyone knew you were his. You approached your friends, dropping a kiss on Topper and Kelce’s cheeks before doing the same to Rafe. You made to move past him quickly, intent on talking to Olivia when he grabbed your hand.

“Hey, hold up you-you look…” he started to say, trying and struggling to find the words to capture the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

Your wide eyes met his expectantly and just when he opened his mouth to speak, they flitted over his shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry, Rafey! Just saw someone I want to catch up with, I’ll see you later” and without another word you walked away, leaving Rafe Cameron, the King of Kildare staring and stuttering after you.

You were walking away from him? he thought. You had seemed so adamant about this whole Midsummers thing, dropping hints about going together and now here he was, practically ready to get down on one knee at the sight of you, and you were walking away from him? He was speechless. He turned to watch you go… right into the arms of another man. He looked to be about your age, the same height and a similar build as Rafe, because of course Rafe was sizing him up, how could he not? This guy had his paws all over his girl. And then, after a moment’s realization, he thought darkly, she’s not your girl…

You had greeted this guy with a huge hug, and he’d nearly lifted you off the ground, now he had your full attention and you were laughing at something he said, the most sweet and perfect sound that Rafe wanted only for himself.

As everyone took their seat for dinner, you intentionally positioned yourself across the table from Rafe. The slight of not sitting next to him where he could run his fingers up your thigh or tangle them in your own left him fidgeting instead, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket and swirling his drink. What the fuck did I used to do with my hands? he thought angrily.

You paid him no mind, instead, leaning forward on your elbows and toying with the diamond pendant around your neck, fingering it, twirling it and sliding it back and forth on its chain.

“Holy DIAMOND, girl!” Olivia said as she took note of your necklace and leaned over to get a closer look. “Is it new, where is it from?” her eyes shot from you to Rafe and back again.

He glared at you both over the rim of his glass as he took a deep gulp, trying to act unphased but also extremely curious to hear your answer knowing damn well it wasn’t from him.

Your eyes flitted to Rafe briefly before you leaned towards Olivia, lowering your voice, but not so low that he couldn’t hear you. “It was… a gift from… someone special” you said winking conspiratorially at her.

Rafe choked on his drink just as someone was standing up at the front of the crowd to make a speech, shifting everyone’s attention and interrupting the slew of words that nearly poured out of his mouth.

Who the fuck on Kildare fucking Island was buying his girl jewelry? he thought. And then, again, he reminded himself, she’s not your girl… the thought making his whole body tense, rigid and taught in anger and frustration.

For the next 20 minutes, all he could do was stare at you as you twiddled that ridiculous necklace in your fingers, imagining what it would be like to rip it off of you and replace it with something twice as nice. He was mentally calculating how much he would spend and how quickly he could get it when JJ Maybank passed by their table. Rafe had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue until he watched JJ do a double take at you and stop in his tracks.

Don’t do it, Maybank, Rafe thought. Don’t you dare do it.

He watched JJ eye you and the distance between you and Rafe and, deeming it safe, peddled back, pulling a glass of champagne off his tray and handing it to you with a flourish. He knelt down next to your seat and when you turned to talk to him, it left JJ perfectly eye level with your cleavage. He was whispering something to you and you rested your hand on his bicep as you leaned forward to hear him. Rafe could see you blushing, and he watched Maybank take in every greedy eyeful of you. Rafe stood up so abruptly, it knocked his chair over and rattled the plates on the table. Everyone looked up at him, including you, and for the first time that night he had your full attention as your eyes widened at his reaction.

“YN, inside, let’s go” he said simply, walking to your side of the table.

You raised an eyebrow at him and his demanding tone.

“And Maybank if you don’t stop staring at her tits, I will put your face through this table.”

JJ quickly stood up and backed away with his hands raised in surrender as Rafe approached you.

“Rafe we were just—” you started.

“— Inside. Now” he said, taking you forcefully by the arm and leading you inside and into the locker room.

“Rafe! Come on! Stop it! I want to spend the night with my friends, I don’t know what you possibly have to be mad at” you said in resistance.

And that was the very last straw for him.

“WHAT I HAVE TO BE MAD AT?!” he said, incredulous, nearly shouting. “Where do I even begin with you!? You blow me off all week, then you waltz in here looking like an absolute bombshell, wearing next to nothing – I swear to God, I’ve seen you in bikinis with more material - every guy here is leering at you. Then you’re talking to that jackass who had his hands all over you…” he said, exasperated.

At this point he was pacing, his voice continuing to rise in anger and frustration. “…And then Maybank?! Maybank of all people?! He was flirting with you right in front of me. Was it to make me jealous? Is that what this is all about? Because I’m about to lose my fucking mind YN” he said running his hands through his hair, giving you sick pleasure knowing it took him probably an hour to style it. A surprised if not amused look rested on your face as you continued to twirl your necklace in your fingers.

“And who the fuck gave you that” he pointed accusingly at the diamond in your hand, not giving you a single second to respond, “No. Absolutely not. Take it off. Right now” he said, walking briskly towards you in an effort to do it himself.

You held out a hand to stop him.

“I don’t know what the big deal is Rafe” you said innocently. “What difference does it make? I’m just the girl you’re sneaking through your back door every night to smash” you shrugged, your eyes burning at him.

His eyes widened as he heard his own words on your lips.

“No, that’s – that’s not – I didn’t mean” he stuttered.

You gave him a vicious look as you watched the gears turn in his head and he tried to string a sentence together.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that – I shouldn’t have – what I meant was – ahh, fuck it” he said, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you in an instant, one hand holding your face firmly as he pushed you against the lockers and the other coming to rest on the wall beside you, caging you in against him as he pressed his lips bruisingly to yours, devouring you, just like he’d wanted to do all night.

You wanted to stay strong, to argue, to tell him he wasn’t going to win you over like this. But he was. He so so was as he deepened the kiss almost instantly and the pad of his thumb ran across your cheek sending a shiver through your body. When he finally felt you relent and kiss him back, winding your arms around his neck and pulling yourself flush to him he let out a small groan that almost made you forget the whole point of tonight. Almost.

You pulled back, leaving not even an inch between you. The feeling of you kissing him had calmed him down significantly. His breathing had slowed but his cheeks were still flushed and his hair was mussed. He lingered there, his nose brushing yours as he stroked your cheek.

“You’re my girl” he whispered finally.

“Are you asking or telling?” you whispered back.

“Do I really need to ask, princess?” he said, meeting your gaze with his own.

You raised an eyebrow at him threateningly.

He rolled his eyes and said in a sigh, “Be mine?”

You bit your bottom lip and pretended to think about it. “Gosh, I don’t know” you said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips “M’might have to think about it” you said, pressing another kiss there, lingering longer “Mm’might need some convincing” you said, kissing him again and running your hands up his chest.

His voice was low but steady, “I will take you home right now and convince you as many times as you need me to” he said, kissing you back through a smile.

“Deal” you replied sweetly.

You moved to leave but he didn’t let you go and when you met his gaze, his brow was furrowed, his eyes searching yours. “I am serious though, about this, about you” he said. “I’m sorry I fucked up.” He looked uncharacteristically bashful, unsure even. “Really, are you mine?” he whispered.

“Yes, Rafe,” you said as your heart fluttered in your chest “All yours.”

He smiled stupidly, so far gone for you as he kissed you again. You were completely lost in the moment until he muttered against you, “Then please for the love of God will you take that necklace off and tell me who in the hell thought they could buy you something like that?”

You met his eyes strongly, the last embers of your pain crackling there.

“No” you said simply, continuing quickly when he tried to interrupt you. “I’m going to keep it and wear it whenever I damn well please to remind you of what you have and what you sure as hell want don’t want to lose.”

He looked genuinely shocked to hear you challenge him like that and you could see a tic in his jaw as he worked it back and forth in anger.

“I… hate that” he growled. “What if I buy you something nicer?”

You shrugged noncommittally and he shook his head at you. “Fine, let’s get out of here, that dress is killing me and I have a lot of convincing I want to do to you right now.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and led you back outside, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

When you rejoined the party there were a few murmurs and glances as you hung off his arm. Were you imagining it, or was he taking the long way back to your table, intentionally parading you around the patio and staring daggers at anyone whose gaze lingered too long? Being seen together at Midsummers was basically shouting from the rooftops that you were official. You were glowing, he was too. You said goodbye to your friends and within minutes you were in his truck headed back to Tanneyhill, his hand rubbing circles higher and higher on your thigh, your fingers in his hair.

He threw the car in park and scooped you over his shoulder, carrying you all the way upstairs like that, which had you shrieking in delight. He didn’t set you down until you were in his room and he kissed you feverishly, his hands cupping your face, before his fingers traced your neck, nearing your necklace.

“Rafe” you muttered against his lips, a warning.

“Just tell me who” he muttered back, unable to let it go and kissing you deeper in the hopes of convincing you. “I’m already gonna to buy you a new one, you’ll never wear this again, but I need to know. Can’t stop thinking about someone else with their hands on you” he said as he guided you backwards towards his bed, pushing you gently onto his comforter and crawling on top of you.

“I don’t like it. I do not fucking like it” he growled against your lips. Under his anger, you detected a hint of vulnerability and you broke your kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, which gazed longingly at you as they searched your face. Perhaps you had tortured this poor boy enough.

You sighed, relenting.

“Olivia” you said.

He looked at you, completely confused for only a moment before the realization dawned on his face and he hung his head.

“There isn’t anyone else” he said in equal parts relief, frustration and embarrassment.

You shook your head at him.

“God I’m so fucking stupid” he said.

You giggled before reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace and toss it on his bedside table.

He looked at you with heat and tenderness, “I’m sorry that’s what it took for me to get my shit together. I wish it all happened differently, but I don’t regret it. You’re it for me, YN, no one else.”

He placed a kiss beneath your ear, to your throat, to your bare collarbone. “My girl” he whispered against your skin, enjoying how it felt on his tongue and the sound of your sweet laughter in response.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[monstameme]

Landscape Fountain

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Pulling Strings

Astarion x F! Tav

18+ consensual body control, intimacy aversion/exploration, sub/dom, total control, body caging, restraint, rough sex, p-in-v, vulnerability, crying after sex, aftercare, tenderness

Tav has caught on that her favorite vampire doesn't enjoy touching or being touched by others. But she has a suggestion to possibly help that piques his interest...

Masterlist

-

As Tav talked to the merchant she felt two cold finger taps on her wrist.

She smiled, turning her head to give him a nod, returning to bartering.

The signal that he wanted to initiate their scenario.

After the tiefling party, she had asked if he had actually wanted to bed her. She had her suspicions, and ever forward, had asked plainly.

He tried to dance around an answer, but she knew him too well by then. Eventually relenting, he had said that he had done it out of obligation. Explaining that he needed protection, and bedding her was a fast track to devotion. Or, at least, was supposed to be.

That conversation led into more, delving into his aversion to intimacy and touch itself. Tav was not upset, if anything she wanted to help.

"Well, do you want to be intimate with others?" She offered curiously on one of those late nights they stayed up talking.

"I don't know, maybe?" He scoffed, flicking his hand up in annoyance. "It's something I'm going to have to get over eventually, if I'm ever going to be a functioning member of polite society."

"Not necessarily," Tav mused, taking the wine bottle he offered to her. "There's lots of ways to get around things like that and still be around others."

Her eyes lit up in thought. "You could wear gloves, or even hire an escort to practice with."

He gave her a withering look. "Darling, though I was one in some respects, I'm not going to trust my comfort with a sex worker I don't even know."

He threw his hands up dramatically. "I would much rather have someone like you if there was to be any 'practice' to be had." His pointer and middle fingers curling at the word.

"That's not a bad idea, actually." Tav suggested, tilting her head slightly.

He looked at her, his own head tilting opposite hers. Mouth pursing up to the side in consideration.

"Go on..." He drawled.

"Well, I could be like a puppet. You steer me where you want me and I stay there." She mused, leaning back on her side. "I wouldn't move unless you moved me, something like that."

"Hmm." He lilted. Pausing, seeming about to say something. Then just offered another thoughtful "Hmm..."

"Sleep on it. You don't need to decide now, and I'm fine with whatever you need." Tav shrugged, taking another swig from the bottle.

"If you decide you want to try, just give me a tap." She demonstrated on her wrist, two fingers lightly tapping.

Three nights later, she was at the firepit. Her hands clasped behind her back, leaning over to inspect the soup Gale was excitedly explaining. Two little strikes against the inside of her wrist brought her eyes back up.

She gave him a warm smile and a near imperceptible nod, turning back to Gale to give him her undivided attention about the intricacies of beef broth.

That night, she asked at the entrance of his tent.

"Come in, sweet thing."

"Where do you want me?" She asked, stepping inside. Already leaving her limbs loose and comfortable.

"Here..." He waved his hand at the space next to his bedroll.

She sat down, legs crossed neatly beneath her. Hands resting palm down in her lap. Waiting for his direction.

He hovered across from her at first, uncertain.

"You're in control. I'm your marionette. Move me." She encouraged, turning her wrist face up on her knee. Letting her hand fall open, relaxed.

He looped his fingers around her wrist and lifted experimentally.

True to her word, she kept her arm limp enough for him to puppet. Steering it around in a circle.

This seemed to give him more confidence, pulling her wrist down to the floor of the tent.

She followed, laying her head down. He adjusted her legs into a slight curl on her side. Pulling her arm up into a natural resting position.

He reached behind her and grabbed a small pillow, lifting her head and sliding it beneath.

He came to lay down next to her on his back. A good distance still between them, but not so far as to feel cold.

"Good?" He whispered.

She nodded, settling into the form he had set for her.

He leaned up and blew out the candle.

"Goodnight, darling." He hushed, laying back down in the dark.

That first night, that had been it. Just her laying in the dark next to him. His impressed eyes appraising her the next morning when he found her in the same position he had left her in. Breathing softly in her sleep.

As the nights went on, and as they grew closer outside of this arrangement, he got more curious.

Bringing her closer to him, touching her. Experimenting with angles and positions.

He had explained after that first night that he didn't want her to be entirely still. 'Too much like a corpse...' He had shivered. He still wanted her to interact with him, just in small movements that he could lead.

If he led her hands to his chest, she could circle her fingers softly there. If he led to his ear, she could massage it gently.

And, if at any point he no longer wanted that touch or found it uncomfortable, he would simply lead her hand away.

If he felt he wanted to be done entirely for the night, he would tap her wrist again, and she would get up and go. No questions asked.

Those nights, oddly enough, were the ones she felt closest to him. That he felt safe enough with her to end touch that he had initiated without fear of retaliation.

It was endlessly exciting for her when he found a touch or position that he really enjoyed.

One of his favorites being her chest to his back, leaning into her in a seated position. One of her arms loosely wrapped around his waist, her legs bent at his sides. Her other hand scratching gently along his scalp.

He leaned into her like this, head tilted back, legs nestled between hers. Practically purring as her fingernails traced lines along his scalp.

His hands would rest on her thighs, sometimes still, sometimes trailing back and forth. Her hand around his waist stroking his side softly with her thumb.

He would even fall asleep in this position, head turning into her neck. Occasionally pulling her down to lay with him, but sometimes falling entirely asleep against her chest.

She never moved from anywhere he put her, unless he gave her the signal that he was done for the night.

It even started proving beneficial outside of their little experiment. In battle he would see a blow coming over her shoulder and pull her out of the trajectory. She moved like water with him, they could almost dance through skirmishes together.

Of course, blood drinking came with the territory. He would always ask before he imbibed, and she almost always said yes.

His favored position for that was her sat on his lap, facing him. Legs hooked around his hips, arms draped loosely over his shoulders.

He would slot into that cup, resting the side of his head on her shoulder while he drank. Her hands comfortable on her forearms, her head softly falling against his.

Last night, he had initiated something that had surprised her.

Sitting down across from her in her usual starting position, he had picked up her wrist and led it to his chest. Trailing her fingertips in a dragging motion down the opening of his camp shirt.

Her surprise must have shown on her face as he smiled almost sheepishly at her.

"I'm feeling indulgent tonight." He purred. Lifting her hand to cup his pec gently. "Seems like a good night for exploration."

She smiled, nodding in agreement. Giving his pec one cheeky squeeze.

He continued to lead her hands across his body, pulling her closer to get a better range of movement.

Her puppeted hands sliding up over his hips, across his ribcage, over the curve of his shoulders.

His eyes had grown dark, chest rising and falling a little more strained.

It didn't go beyond that, with him eventually settling her into another favored sleeping position. Her head on his chest, arm draped across his ribcage, one leg curled up on his hip. His hand kneading and circling little figure eights into her thigh.

This was one of her personal favorites. One of the positions where she would often find sleep first. She wondered if he initiated this one so often cause he could tell.

So when night fell, she naturally wondered where tonight would take her.

He had absolutely had one-off tries that he decided didn't work for him, never bringing her back to them again. But his direction of her had been gradually more sensual. Something that made heat settle in her pelvis.

When they settled in for the night, she was surprised when he hadn't started leading her at all. Just running his hands over her body.

This wasn't entirely new, he did have areas of her that he enjoyed touching for tactile reasons. Particularly along her waist, under her ribcage and her upper thighs. He had remarked just how soft her skin was there, and how he was very glad she wasn't ticklish.

But the touch he drug across her now was more insistent. Needful pulls of her hips, her ass. Cupping her breasts.

She didn't move without permission, but her head fell back slightly. Letting out a soft moan.

He pulled up on both of her hands, urging them to his ears. Groaning in the back of his throat when she traced and massaged into them.

His hands pulled her legs open, hooking one up around his hip as he slid forward. Angling in between them, one hand pulling her thigh for leverage as he slowly started to grind into her.

His body pushed her onto her back, fingers digging into her propped thigh. Hand leaving it, his leg sweeping it up and open against him.

He caught her mouth in a kiss, hips fluid against hers. A hardening length pressing down into her.

For the first time, she moved of her own accord. Hand leaving his ear to cup the back of his head.

She realized her transgression and was about to move back, but his hand laced over hers.

"Please," He breathed against her mouth. "Touch me more."

This was the ultimate test, giving her free reign again. Under the suffocating wave of lust, she was determined.

"Are you sure?" She whispered when she could get a breath in.

"Yes, I trust you." He murmured, moving down to her neck.

She used the touches she had learned he enjoyed, fingers trailing along his chest, cupping over the bone of his hip, dipping into the curve of the base of his spine.

He shivered all over when she would stroke these desired places. Eyes fluttering up into his lids.

When her fingers traced the v-line of his hips something snapped in him. Needing control again.

He took hold of her wrists roughly, his legs twisting into hers and encouraging her to flip onto her belly.

She went limp again and followed his unspoken command, chest against the floor of his tent.

Pinning her wrists against her lower back, he hiked her hips up high to meet him with a grunt. In one motion he pulled her dress up over her ass, bunching up at her waist. Pulling her underclothes down roughly to her knees.

She moaned into his pillow, clasping her hands together in unholy prayer.

He unhooked her fingers far enough to slip his own in, curling into her. The rustling of fabric behind her, then the feeling of his cock teasing against her entrance.

There was no more questions, no more clarification. Just his voice low and dangerous behind her.

"You will take me."

She nodded into his pillow, pushing her legs wider for him.

He pushed inside of her without mercy, her cunt stretching deliciously to accommodate him.

She mewled into his pillow, and he fisted her hair into a ponytail. Pulling her head up.

"You will sing for me."

His hips rolled into her in hard thrusts. Rocking her body forward with each strike. It was slow and animalistic. Savoring and vicious.

He pushed her legs back together with his own, her ass seated higher, her cunt tighter around him. He groaned, caging his body over hers, forcing her chest further into the bedroll.

This new angle stroked directly against her g-spot. She moaned out choppy cries with each thrust, pushing her ass up higher into him.

"Is that good, little songbird?" He smiled, biting along her shoulder blades.

"Yes," She shuddered. "Harder, please."

"Fuck," He hissed, losing his composure. Releasing her hand to grip both sides of her hips. Slamming into her ravenously.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, already starting to clench around him. Clasped hands white knuckling.

He could feel she was close, a wide smile crossing his face when he realized she was waiting for his permission.

Teasing her for a little longer, he stayed silent outside of panting with exertion. He wanted to watch her come more undone.

She was writhing in small movements under him, trying to hold back the wave that was cresting. Whimpering in her effort.

Begging was out of the question, this was his call. But she was getting to her breaking point.

As soon as it became unbearable, he spoke.

"Come. Now."

Her whole body shuddered, shoulders arching back into still clasped hands. Release ripping through her from deep in her core, forcing near agonizing pleasure in an arc up from her pelvis. Her voice was entirely out of her control, pleading whines pushing into indignant near shrieks from her throat.

Her cum coated him in a slick veil, pushing out onto his thighs. The sight of it sent him over, the clenching pulls of her cunt further demanding.

He laced his hand back into hers, gripping his fingers into her knuckles. Crying out as his body tremored. His hips sloppy, bracing his other hand on her lower back as he filled her to the brim. Her fingers pulsed reassuringly into his as he fell apart over her. His unrestrained sweet sounds making her heart sing.

He collapsed into her lower back, pushing her clasped hands above him. Pulling them apart to lace into both of his along her sides. Still nestled inside of her. Both of them laying flat on the bedroll now.

He panted hard against her, sending little waves of cool air along her side. He unhooked his fingers high enough to tap twice on her wrist. The signal that he wanted to stop their scenario.

"Do you want me to go?" She hushed, rubbing her thumb inside of his palm.

He shook his head against her lower back, not moving from their joining in the slightest.

She smiled, twisting gently underneath him. Bringing his slack body onto her.

"Come here to me." She purred, bringing his head down to her chest. Running her fingernails in arcs along his scalp, holding him around his waist.

He melted into her, body fully relaxing. Quiet tears falling onto her sternum. His arm holding her side strong against him. His grip almost fearful, as if he was anticipating someone trying to take her from him.

She only hummed softly, a slow tune she had heard in a passing tavern. Fingers leaving her love in lines through his hair.

His breath slowed, eyes fluttering shut, his long lashes tickling her chest. Body warmed and pliant, he fell under her spell. Blessedly asleep.

She smiled, continuing to stroke his curls. She would often stay awake just to hold him like this. It felt sacred, a rite that only she got to partake in. The guardian of his rest.

"Oh, my starlight..." She hushed, kissing the top of his head.

She felt his sleeping smile against her chest. The nightcall of insects her hymn, the high moon her witness. His body her holy duty.

Letting her head turn on his pillow, she allowed herself to fall with him.

~

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

future

seeing how good tetsuro is with kids has you wanting him to put one in you.

camp counselor!tetsuro kuroo x fem!reader

contents/warnings: breeding, unprotected doggystyle, vaginal fingering, kitten and mama petnames, mentions of marriage and babymaking, no pregnancy reader is on birth control, reader and kuroo are in college and work at a camp

wc: 1.4k

18+ MINORS DNI

the crisp fall air felt even more refreshing at night. the changing colors surrounded the camp in pretty hues of orange and red, matching the warm flames crackling away in the middle of the circle. storytimes are firepit were always a hit during the fall season, when the camp operated more as a babysitting service for couples on a date night rather than the usual summer sleepaway. it was honestly nice, allowing you to keep your counselor job into the start of the semester without having to work as many hours so you had time for your coursework.

the convenience wasn’t the only thing you loved, though.

“the group inched closer to the closet, flashlights held tight in their hands as they crept through the dark,” kuroo narrated, voice projecting so every kid listening in could hear.

you smiled at the way your boyfriend had them all on the edge of their seat, everyone’s undivided attention on the rooster head as he told his tale. he knew exactly when to pause for dramatic effect or when to emphasize a certain point. it was honestly impressive how great of a storyteller he was.

“they finally reached the door, turning the knob slowly and opening the door with a loud creak only to find…a report card! full of f’s!”

the kids all laughed, seemingly amused with the funny twist kuroo chose to end his story with. he didn’t want to send the kids back to their homes too scared, now. you chuckled along with them, heart feeling all warm watching the way he interacted with the children.

in your three years of dating, it was not lost on you how naturally amazing kuroo was with kids. he always treated them with the same kindness and respect he would give an adult, and you could see the content smile that would come onto his face whenever a youngster would engage in conversation with him.

not only was it precious, but it was honestly attractive. you were nearing the end of your college years, graduation on the horizon, and he’d already brought up the m word multiple times- not to mention you caught him studying the sizes of your rings that one time. while you told him not to rush anything, you knew he was the one you were going to marry. not only that, but this was the man that would most likely be fathering your children, and every time you saw him bring a smile to a kid’s face, it just reminded you of how amazing of a dad he was going to be.

and that made you want him so much.

knowing that he would take such good care of you and your potential babies drove you up the wall, wishing you could skip to your white picket fence era despite telling him that the two of you were young and didn’t need to be in a hurry.

kuroo caught you staring at him from across the firepit and sent you his signature grin, and you had to resist the urge to press your thighs together, knowing that this wasn’t the place.

the thoughts were still shuffling around in your mind when kuroo drove the two of you back to his apartment later, shift finally over now that all of the children had been picked up by their guardians. visions were dancing across your brain of him gently rocking a little baby, giving piggyback rides to a toddler, teaching a child how to spike a volleyball.

your boyfriend had noticed you were much more quiet than usual but chose not to question it. he figured you would talk once the two of you got home.

the elevator trip once you arrived was silent, and kuroo was starting to worry that there really was something bothering you.

so imagine his surprise when your lips were crashing against his the second he locked his front door, smaller hands gripping his shoulder and pulling him down to your height. his eyes went a little wide in surprise before he closed them and melted into the kiss, never one to look a gift horse in the face.

you pulled away to gasp for air and he grinned, bringing a thumb up to press against your bottom lip.

“what’s gotten into you, kitten?”

nothing could prepare him for what you said next, your eyes glassy and breath labored.

“wanna have a baby with you.”

now wasn’t the time, both of you knew that, and it was mainly just the lust talking at the moment. however, the idea still filled both of you with a sense of excitement and adrenaline. you were on birth control, but a little practice for the real deal in the future couldn’t hurt, right?

you felt his large hands snake under your t-shirt, forehead coming to rest against yours.

“is that right? my pretty girl wants to become a mommy?”

you nodded. “wanna make you a daddy.”

he hummed at that, beginning to kiss you once more as he backed you towards his bedroom, tugging both of your shirts off in the process. each of you were shedding your clothes, nude as can be by the time you reached the bed.

kuroo gave you one final kiss before commanding you to get on the bed.

“all fours.”

you did as you were told, keeping your ass towards him and arching the way he liked. you heard him step towards you and almost cried when you felt his fingers teasing at your entrance.

he slowly pumped his index and middle in and out of you, amazed at how wet your cunt already was. how long had you been wanting this?

not in the mood to waste time, you craned your neck to look at him, a desperate look in your eyes.

“inside, tetsu! want you inside now!”

he normally would refuse, insisting on prepping you. but tonight you had asked for a baby. you asked for a baby as if you knew about the endless dreams and fantasies in his head of you with a sweet little bump on your belly.

he’d give into your plea to forego foreplay tonight, but only this once. only because you managed to hit him where it really hurts.

the moan that tore from your throat as he split you open was the neediest he’d ever heard, and he wasted no time in starting to cant his hips as deep as possible. you were mewling, trying to push back to meet his thrusts each time, the want to be filed fogging your mind.

“so good! so good!”

you felt his hand between your shoulder blades, pressing down to arch your back even more. he groaned as he started to hit even further down in your walls, as if he was trying to get as close to your cervix as he could.

“good girl, such a good fucking girl for me.”

he didn’t think he’d ever felt your pussy grip him this tight. you were going to milk him for everything he was worth, and he honestly couldn’t wait.

you felt him lean over you, his chest against your back as his hot breath fanned against your ear.

“gonna be the prettiest mama ever. can’t wait to see how beautiful you look carrying my baby.”

you whined at his words.

“baby! want your baby, tetsu! want it so bad!”

“fuck.”

your cries had him pistoning into you even faster, so ready to give into your pleas and grant you your wish. maybe not today, but someday.

the coil in his stomach had grown so taught, and from the way your thighs were shaking, he knew yours had, too. he brought his thumb to your clit, knowing it would be the last shove you needed to tumble over the edge with him.

“where do you want it, kitten?”

he already knew the answer.

“inside! inside inside inside, please!”

one last rub at your sensitive nub had the wave of pleasure crashing over you, your orgasm sending kuroo into his own as he spilled his cum deep into your cunt. you’d never felt so full in your life.

you slumped against the bed, boneless. you heard kuroo chuckle behind you and felt a kiss pressed to the crown of your head.

“come on, mama,” kuroo said. “don’t go tapping out on me just yet.”

____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[mayhemories]

Neteyam x reader (She/her pronouns)

Huddling for warmth trope please!

If You Wanted A Cuddle, You Could Have Asked

Uh-oh, I took 'huddling' and ran with it... I hope you're still satisfied with my interpretation of this trope, wanted to make it a little different but really could've gone a million different ways with this one! I have been loving all of the requests that have been sent, keep sending them they provide me with so much joy and purpose. <3

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: This fluff gets a lil spicy, !!no minors!! 

Words: 1.2k

Author’s Notes: 

Neteyam is 21, reader is 21. Lo’ak and Kiri are roughly 20ish. I’m gonna estimate Tuk is 7 or 8?

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Taglist: @myheartfollower @luvlykrispy

Read below the cut:

You tossed and turned in your sleeping hammock. The rains had come early to you mountain home. Usually, the forest was warm, sometimes humid. But since moving to High Camp the altitude and rain came together to create something you never really felt bred for, the cold. 

You were shivering, your teeth chattering against one another in rapid succession. You felt your nose and the tips of your ears begining to burn, the pain sizzling into numbness, usually a comforting feeling to you when you were high in the sky, soaring with your ikran. But now, you just felt ill. You weren’t really one to normally care about clothes, but you were thankful for the shawl Kiri had gifted you earlier in the evening, pulling it tighter around your shoulders, bringing your knees as far as they could to your chest, in fetal position. 

Yet warmth never found you. 

You opened your eyes, groaning as you rolled onto your back, looking up at the waxed canvas and leather that built your tent. This time of year the sky often held the three moons, their light beautiful and full, causing Pandora’s bioluminescence to glow brighter, for longer. The waxed canvas was fantastic at keeping the light out at night.

Usually. 

You quickly held your hands up to your face, shivering as you did so, hands shaking ever so slightly. You could see them perfectly, like it was the middle of the day. It was far too bright in here, you could never see your hands usually. 

Your head whipped around, sitting up in your hammock you tried to find where the light was coming from. 

Right above your door, a perfect circle was cut into the waxed canvas, the moonlight flooding in, brining all the cold air with it. It would be an easy fix in the morning, just a small little patch to cover it. It wasn’t unusual for the canvas to wear or damage, or even for the leather to rip over time. But this was a perfect little hole. Like someone had done surgery on your tent to let all the cold air in and to flush you out. 

You knew it was late but you were so inconceivabley angry that someone had messed with your wall, and, that you were cold. So, you slipped out of your hammock, your aching legs hitting the ground and walked to the only person that could make you feel better about both things. 

Slipping into the Sully’s tent at night wasn’t that uncommon for you, you would always long to see your friends, and you knew Jake and Neytiri didn’t mind waking up to you being in their home, in fact they encouraged sleepovers your whole childhood, that did not fade into your adulthood. What was surprising, however, was that the Sully’s were asleep in front of their firepit that Neytiri used for cooking. They obviously had felt the cold too, despite their tent not being sabotaged. Jake laid near the door, Neytiri’s head on his chest and little Tuk asleep on his stomach. Lo’ak was only an arms length away from Neytriri laying on his back, long lanky arms strewn across his face. You stifled a laugh when you noticed Kiri, using Lo’ak’s ankles as a pillow, green shawl wrapped tightly around her, she laid like you had only moments ago, fetal, craving warmth.

Neteyam laid on the other side of the open room, furthest away from the fire, but with a woven blanket Kiri had made him for his most recent nameday. He laid with plenty of room, and conveniently, plenty of blanket. 

Neteyam had never officially courted you, or even expressed the want, or any thoughts about you at all really. 

But in all your childhood sleepovers, until now, Neteyam always left space for you, you always found eachother anyway. Even if you started of opposite sides of the room, you knew that you would end up wrapped in his thick arms, head on his chest, legs wrapped up in one another.

There was one night, last summer when you awoke in the middle of the night, Neteyam spooning you, as you so often did, but his tail had wrapped itself around your thigh. You had never felt so seen as you did that night. 

You made quick work of crawling under the blanket. You laid on your side, facing away from him, yet his relaxed features did not leave your mind. You knew you were freezing, you refrained from touching him, but his radiating heat helped nonetheless. 

You sighed, deeply. It felt so right being here like this, with him. You did not want to think about when you would inevitably find this space filled by another, for now, Neteyam had no lover, and the space was yours. 

Neteyam stirred, pulling you by the waist to be close to him, entrapping you there with his heavy arm across your abdomen. His hot breath fanned out across the shell of your ear. Your ear flicked back and forth, adjusting to the warmth and the sensitive sensation. 

“You are so cold, ma (y/n).” Neteyam whispered, his voice husky with sleep. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs to relieve some tension. “Come, we can huddle together for warmth.” Neteyam pushed his body closer to yours, entangling your legs, and wrapping his other arm under your neck. 

This was everything you wanted, but you were too hot for all the wrong reasons. You could feel Neteyam in every intimate way along your back and behind. His breath fanned over your ear and down your face, remnants of the intimacy causing goosebumps to rise on your exposed neck. 

“There was a hole in my tent.” You whispered softly to the boy nearly asleep behind you. Surely, providing context to your late night sleepover would make the whole thing more normal. 

“I know, ma (y/n).” The ghost like touch of Neteyam’s soft lips found your hair line, leaving nothing but the imagination of a kiss in its wake. “How else would I have assurance that you would come to find me in the middle of the night? Happens a lot less often these days.” You felt your stomach drop and flip simultaneously at Neteyam’s sleepy confession. You knew that this was something probably worth getting angry over, but as Neteyam’s tail wrapped around your thigh, and one of his hands ghosted over the mound of your breast, and his lips left small, barely-there kisses down the side of your face and neck, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. 

He made you feel a lot of things in that moment, across your entire body, mind and soul. But angry was not one of them.

“I will patch it tomorrow morning, I promise.” Neteyam said softly, as his tail made its way up and down your thigh, his strong thumb rubbing circles into your hip bone. 

“I would surely hope so,” You whispered, turning your head, your lips a hairsbreadth apart. “If you wanted a cuddle, you could’ve asked Neteyam.” His lips were as warm as what you always had pictured them to be. Soft, but his kiss was not. His tongue explored your mouth, and though you tried to assert dominance you knew you would let this boy ruin you. He stifled your moan with his own mouth, though realising what he coaxed from you he pulled away, smiling in the firelight. 

“I want to do so much more than just cuddle. But this is for warmth, and warmth only.” His smile and golden eyes were always going to be enough for you to feel warmth. It did not hurt that his body was there too.

[nameless-ken]

Carol noticing Daryl totally getting soft for the reader, falling in love. Merle teases Daryl for obviously “not being man enough” but reader is the perfect sweetness in his bitter life. Slowly, the whole group notices his soft spot, and playfully tease him.

warnings: Fluff & Angst <3

words: 1.5K

requests

masterlist

hope you like this one!!

We all knew he liked her long before he even realized himself. Before he ever spoke a word about his feelings. It was in the eyes, the way he looked at her and watched her when she wasn’t looking. To him, she was like the first drop of rain in the summer heat or the first flower bud on his favorite rose bush that he meticulously always cares for. It was obvious to all of us. That spark in his eyes when she spoke such kind words, the ones he’s been waiting for his whole life. Of course we laughed and teased him but deep down, that’s the one thing in this new world that all of us are looking for, hoping for. 

“She changed her hair today.” Daryl jumps slightly from Carol’s sudden voice next to him. 

“Huh.” Daryl grunts, quickly reverting his eyes to the bow in his hand as he continues to clean it. 

“You should see if she needs help.” 

“She’s capable on her own.” Daryl looks at you again, stacking logs in the ashes of last night's fire, getting everything ready for another night. 

“Yeah, you’re right. She always has your eyes following her anyways.” Carol smirks, nudging his shoulder. 

“I don’t follow her everywhere.”

“If that’s your story, I would offer soon or else she might think it’s creepy.” Carol jokes and walks away to help Lori. 

You situate the logs in the firepit and grab your basket, hoping today will be a day you can forge anything in the woods. You turn to let someone know where you’re heading and your eyes meet Daryl’s. 

You smile kindly and he almost harshly looks away. You know he doesn’t mean harm but you can’t help but feel quite lost when it comes to your relationship with Daryl. You’ve always tried to speak to him with kind, soft words but he rarely ever returns anything but a grunt or a nod. 

“Hey there sweetcheeks. How about you take a break and let’s go have some fun?” Merle appears behind you. You freeze, clutching the basket to the front of your body. 

“What’d you say? A pretty thing like you could use some ruining.” You feel him grab your braid and slightly pull it. 

“Merle, leave the girl alone.” Your body jumps and turns at the sound of Daryl’s loud voice, almost in shock. You’ve only heard Daryl shout a few times with Shane. 

“Stay out of this brotha.” Merle closes in on you again. 

“Merle,” You’re suddenly pulled back by your arm, behind Daryl. “You know the rules.” 

“Well look at you little brother. All pussywhipped and shit. I’ve noticed what’s been going on here for quite a while now, actually everyone has.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Daryl snarks. 

“You can’t even be man enough to speak the truth. You’ve always been weak, especially when we were kids. Not surprised anything has changed.”

“Why do you always have to be such a dick all the time?” You step out from behind Daryl, hating the way Merle always speaks to him. 

“See, even got your bitch to stand up for you.” You take a glance at Daryl, shoulders stiff and fists clenched. “You’ve never been able to stand up for yourself little brother even all those times dear old dad was beatin up on you.” Merle chuckles slightly and before you realize, Daryl rushes towards Merle, landing his fist to his face. 

“You son of a bitch.” Merle moans, throwing a punch, hitting Daryl in the mouth. 

You stand there in shock as they wrestle on the ground, punch after punch, until Rick and Shane are pulling them apart. Everyone gathers in a circle, hands over mouths and whispers swirling. 

“Y/N, what happened?” Carol asks once everyone dismisses and Shane takes Merle off. You glance at Daryl, huffing and pacing as Rick is trying to talk to him. 

“Uh, usual Merle.” You catch her eyeline and shrug your shoulders. 

“You’re made for each other, you know.” Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, not understanding her words. 

“We barely know each other.” 

“I know how closed off Daryl can be, trust me, but I’ve never known a single person with a bigger heart. I’ve started to believe that in this new world we’re in, we don’t have the luxury of waiting and he hasn’t come to realize that yet but I think you have.” 

“How do you tell someone you barely know that you love them?” 

“You just do.” 

Carol leaves you with those thoughts swirling in your head as you figure out your next steps. It's started to get close to sunset now, too late to go forging. You glance over at Daryl’s camp, watching his arms move back and forth as he sharpens one of his bows. You can still see the frustration weighing on his shoulders. 

You’ve never been more scared in your life than now, except when you saw your first walker, but that’s like cracking an egg now. You take a few deep breaths before shaking the nerves away, walking over to Daryl. 

“Hey, are you okay?” You asks already knowing the answer. 

“Fine.” Daryl hides his face behind his hair. 

“I want to thank you for helping me. You always do so much and I don’t think you hear that enough.” 

Daryl looks up at you, blood still on his busted lip and a couple bruises forming on his cheek. You don’t ask him before grabbing your handkerchief in your pocket and pouring some water from your canteen, lowering in front of him and swiping at his lip. 

“I can do it.” He reaches for the handkerchief but you pull away. 

“Let me take care of you.” His eyes lower as you continue cleaning his wound the best you can. 

“You’re important to me Daryl.” You lay the dirty piece of fabric on the log next to him. His eyes still don’t meet yours. “I hate the way Merle speaks to you. You don’t deserve that and I know you don’t need saving and are very capable of protecting yourself. But, I do believe you deserve to hear kind words because you should know how important you are to everyone here.” 

“They only need me for hunting and killing. All I’m good for.” Daryl’s self truth doesn’t shock you but makes you want to wrap him up in your arms for the foreseeable future. 

“That’s far from the truth.” You rest your hand on top of his, watching his eyes move to the connection. “I hope you come to realize someday that you deserve the best, most honest, beautiful, purest love in the world. Not just by others but also by yourself. Everyone has a past and yours will always haunt you but my hope is one day you’ll realize that we don’t have the luxury of waiting to open our hearts and accept that love.” 

“How can you love if you’ve never known of it?” 

“You just do.” You repeat the same words from Carol. “Even if we only make eye contact for a split second everyday, it will always mean the world to me.” You squeeze his hand before standing up and leaving him be, not wanting to rush him. 

Before you step into your tent meters away, you glance over at Daryl again, hands running through his long, dark hair, back hunched over. It’s almost like you two have a second sense connection as his head turns to look at you. 

You smile, heart full just from a single glance, stepping into your tent for the night.

--

You wake up in the middle of the night suddenly, wide awake. You grab your jacket to keep yourself warm from the chilly morning air, stepping out of your tent. You can tell it’s almost dusk. You take gentle steps away from the camp and into a small section of the meadow that has grown wildflowers. You’re still in awe of the beauties of everyday life even in a world of disaster. 

“You’re up early.” Daryl’s voice breaks through the silence around you. 

“So are you.” You turn around, loving the sight of him with his crossbow. 

“I thought about what y-you said.” Daryl is careful with his steps, hesitating slightly as he walks toward you, joining you in the sea of wildflowers. 

“What’d you think?” 

Daryl gulps, hands grasping the strap of his weapon as he sways lightly. “How moments with you, that’s when I wish I could stop time.” 

For some reason, you weren’t expecting that kind of answer but you can’t help the smile that graces your face. 

“Oh my,” You step closer to him, looking into his eyes, “I’m gonna love you for a long long time, Daryl Dixon.” 

“You’ll have to be patient with me.” He whispers, shifting closer, his breath hitting your face. 

“I’ll be here, loving you even in the silence.” 

Daryl’s hands grip the sides of your face, passionately kissing you before you have a chance to say anything else. You grip the front of his shirt, holding so tight, creating wrinkles in the fabric. 

“I didn’t grow up knowing it but I heard stories of a love that comes once in a lifetime and I may not know how to but I’m pretty sure that you are that love of mine.” 

[captainsophiestark]

To The Stars

Rhysand x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Summary: With war on the horizon, Rhys and his mate have been busier than should be possible, with almost no time to even see each other. But sometimes, to stay sane, you have to make time.

Word Count: 1,064

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I squinted at the words on the paper in front of me, trying to get them to stop blurring. My eyes burned, and my head ached, and before I knew it, I was face down on the desk.

Not the first time it had happened to me, and probably not the last. But the Night Court was basically the only court who had our shit together and stood a chance at stopping Hybern, which meant it was on me and the rest of the Inner Circle to organize what we needed to organize to save the world as we knew it. That tended to lead to a lot of exhaustion.

Even worse, it had left me no time to see my mate, Rhysand, as we were both running around like maniacs, often in different directions. His face floated across my subconscious as I fought to stay awake despite my body begging me to rest my eyes and stay down on the desk. I thought I'd finally lost the battle when I heard his voice, calling my name in his smooth, soothing voice that had come to feel like home. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder, and realized this wasn't an exhaustion-induced dream.

I groaned, slowly dragging myself back into a sitting position as I blinked at Rhys through bleary eyes. He hardly looked better than me, with dark bags under his eyes. Still, he pulled a soft smile onto his face when he looked at me.

"You look about as tired as I feel," he said, voice a little more gravelly than usual. I huffed a sigh.

"I'm absolutely exhausted. But we have to do what it takes to have a chance at winning this war."

"We do."

The silence hung between us for a moment, the massive weight we carried together resting heavily on our shoulders. Then Rhys, my wonderful mate, sighed and gave me a tired smile, running his hand along my cheek.

"Come outside with me."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but his face didn't change. I held his stare, but when his calm expression didn't crack with even a hint of what he was up to, I finally gave in with a sigh of my own.

"Fine. But only because I love you so much. If anyone else was asking me to accompany them for mysterious reasons rather than wading through these papers or sleeping, I would tell them to fuck right off."

"I'll make sure to remember how lucky I am to be met with a different response."

I snorted, at myself more than him, and he shot me a small smile as I got to my feet. He held out a hand and led me out of our bedroom and up the stairs to the roof.

"If we had even a single extra second to string together, I would've told you to close your eyes first," Rhys said, a smile in his voice from ahead of me. I raised an eyebrow, more curious than ever as he stepped out onto the roof of the Velaris townhouse and I followed after him.

Rhysand stared at me with a massive grin on his face, holding his arms out slightly on either side in a 'ta-da' gesture. I looked just past him to find a nest of blankets assembled on the roof, with glasses of sparkling wine waiting for us. A small fire roared in a firepit that hadn't been there the last time I'd checked.

"We have to rest at some point, or so I've been told by every other member of our court. And if I have to take a break, I'd much prefer to take it with you."

I smiled, none of the tiredness leaving me but most of the tension draining away. I crossed the short distance between me and my mate, wrapping my arms around him tightly and breathing in his scent. I could hear his heart beating in his chest, the soft thud mixing with the crackling fire, and for just a moment everything was right with the world.

"How did I get so lucky as to find you?" I asked, a soft smile on my face as I at last pulled back to look at Rhys. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he leaned in until his lips were just a breath away from mine.

"I wonder the same thing, how we could be so lucky to find each other, almost every day that I walk this world," he murmured. My heart swelled, and a heartbeat later Rhys closed the distance between us. I lost myself in his embrace and his soft, tender kiss.

We stayed locked together for a few long moments, then finally, reluctantly, I pulled back. Rhys watched me like a hawk, but I just gave him a little smile.

"We'll have time for that after wine and stargazing," I promised. He sighed, playing it up a little, even as he leaned back.

"I suppose it would be a shame to let it all go to waste."

I winked and gave him one last peck on the cheek, then led him over to the pile of blankets. The two of us made ourselves comfortable, snuggling into the warmth together and staring up at the crystal clear night sky. I sighed, the light from the stars shining out through the darkness above.

"This is beautiful," I murmured. Rhys handed me a glass, which I took, my eyes never leaving the night sky above.

"It really is. It helps, to look at this. To look at Velaris. And you. To... remember what we're fighting for."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

I finally tore my eyes away from the starlight overhead to look at my mate, meeting his sparkling eyes. I would go to the absolute ends of the world for him, and I knew he would do the same for me. The road ahead would be hard, against Hybern and the other courts, but how could anything hope to stand against us? Especially when we had the rest of our friends behind us, too.

"To the stars who listen," he said, lifting his glass to mine with a half-smile. I returned the gesture, the soft clink of the glasses ringing out in the night.

"And the dreams that are answered."

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 31

read on ao3! (143k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 31:

Juliet’s POV:

“Get behind me,” Joel mouthed to her, not daring to make a sound as they approached the seemingly abandoned cabin in the middle of the winter wasteland of Wyoming. 

Not wanting an argument, Juliet stepped into line behind him with her gun held firm in her hands. Joel’s horse was loosely tied to the gate at the edge of the property and Juliet prayed that he would stay quiet. 

She released a heavy breath and watched it form a hazy cloud in front of her, barely visible anymore in the darkening light. 

Ahead of her, Joel’s movements were quick and stiff as he walked up the rickety wooden steps towards the door. Juliet was his shadow, standing so close to him that she could almost feel the heat from his body through the layers of their jackets.

Her heart beat quickly in her chest but, as always when she was with Joel, her fear was diluted by her feverish trust in his ability to keep them safe. 

The handle, caught in Joel’s firm grip, turned easily and Juliet held her next breath. 

With a quick look behind him at Juliet’s wide eyes, Joel pushed the door open and stepped inside with silent footsteps. 

His torch was on, circling the small dark room. It illuminated a dusty fireplace with two worn couches facing it, then as Joel took another step, she could see a small kitchen at the back with a chipped hardwood counter and a wall of peeling red paint. 

The cabin was so small that in one sweep Joel was able to lower his shotgun ever so slightly and turn back to Juliet with a nod. 

She stepped in cautiously behind him, still stiff with remaining fear. With her own torch, Juliet scanned the other side of the room. Her breath caught when she noticed the handle of a cleverly concealed door against the back wall. 

It looked like a closet, so Juliet walked towards it, tucked her torch under her arm and turned the brass handle. The door creaked when it opened and, from the corner of her eye, Juliet saw Joel’s head whip towards her from the other side of the room. 

“Wait,” he cautioned as he began to move towards her, rounding the couches. 

But it was too late, the door was open. 

And it wasn’t a closet. 

The smell hit her instantly and Juliet was back in the Boston QZ, surrounded by piles of bodies in various stages of decomposition waiting to get thrown into the firepit. 

Her head swung back like she’d been punched as her eyes began to water and, through the mist of her rotten stench induced tears, Juliet peered into the small bedroom and spotted the source of the smell lying on the bed. 

Joel was at her back, practically leaning over her shoulder with his shotgun raised, when she noticed the other body. 

This one wasn’t lying on the bed. 

This one was on its feet, barrelling towards them in sharp, jerky movements. 

Juliet’s breath had barely caught in her throat before it didn’t have a head anymore. 

She whipped her body around to face Joel as he slowly lowered his shotgun to rest against his side. 

He towered over her with his usual broad, imposing presence. Caught in the small gap between the wall and the doorway, Juliet felt as his breath brushed against her face. 

His jaw was hard but his eyes were harder. 

“Don’t open anymore fuckin’ doors,” he ground out before stepping backwards and doing another sweep of the cabin. 

Juliet swallowed and turned back around to take one last look into the room, her eyes lingered on the way the body on the bed was placed. Its hands, while almost skeletal now, had clearly been positioned on top of each other, and what was left of its hair was arranged to rest carefully on the pillow underneath. 

Juliet blinked then forced herself to turn away and shut the door before she caught sight of the second body, and what was left of its head. 

She hoped that, when the time came, someone would have the care to arrange her body into a peaceful position, to give her some dignity in the end. 

Juliet looked down at the gun in her hand and, all at once, a reminder of every bullet she had ever shot came rushing through her head. 

She scoffed. Who was she kidding? Juliet didn’t deserve dignity. 

When the time came, she’d be lucky if someone had the decency to shut the door on the splattered mess of her body. 

…………………..

With his horse safely tucked in the shed outside the cabin, Joel shuffled in and slammed the door behind him with some help from the storm that raged outside. 

The wind had picked up, along with the snow, forming the early stages of what might become a worrying blizzard. 

Juliet sat on the couch opposite the barren fireplace. Her torch sat on the coffee table, illuminating the supplies she had spread across the surface. 

With Tommy’s help, they had enough food to last their journey… whatever it may bring. 

She didn’t tell Ethan she was leaving, didn’t tell Charlotte either. 

Juliet asked that Tommy tell them that he had sent her and Joel on an extended patrol, to search a nearby town and that they wouldn’t be back for at least a few weeks. Juliet didn’t know if she could look in Ethan’s face and tell him that she was going back to their nightmare. Juliet knew that he would insist that he come too, and she couldn’t do that to him. He had barely got out of her father’s town alive the first time.

Juliet had done what she had set out to do, back when she first showed up at her shift partner’s door and struck a deal which involved far more than they had ever intended…

Juliet had saved Ethan and given him a second chance at life. She saw how happy he looked at the dance, twirling Charlotte around with a grin shining on his face.

She couldn’t allow her never ending baggage to dampen that even slightly. 

Her mind was a splattered canvas; shades of guilt, fear and a plethora of trauma darkened every inch. 

But this journey would clear it. Finding out what happened to her parents, how she ended up caught in Eilijah’s web… discovering whether or not she would become like him one day… that would solve everything. 

Maybe then, she’d be able to look at Joel and see a future for herself, rather than another victim for her dark edges to cling to. 

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel asked cautiously as she stopped next to the couch she sat on. 

Juliet wiped a cold hand down her face, then turned, blinking up at him. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, nodding to the food on the table. “Take your pick.” 

Joel eyed her a second longer then reached down to lift a wrapped sandwich and dropped himself beside her on the couch. 

He started eating immediately, looking almost ravenous as he devoured Jackson’s finest home cooking. 

Between bites, he turned to her and nodded towards the other sandwich on the table. “You better eat somethin’” he said with a warning tone. 

Juliet wouldn’t be surprised if he force fed her if she refused. 

She leaned forward, grabbing a sandwich of her own and biting into it. 

It tasted like ash in her mouth, but she chewed and swallowed, savouring the feeling of fullness it brought her even if her mind was too heavy to appreciate the taste. 

The smell of the rotting bodies in the next room didn’t help either, but Juliet was used to pretending she didn’t smell decomposing flesh. 

She watched as Joel sniffed and his eyes squinted slightly. 

“Reminds me of Boston,” Juliet said quietly. 

Joel’s eyes landed on her face with the force of a hard punch. He looked as though years of memories were flashing across his mind. 

It seemed that, for a second, he might voice whatever thoughts crossed his mind. Instead, he grunted out an agreement and went back to eating the last bite of his food. 

Juliet finished hers and sat the wrapper on the table then leaned back on the couch, dropped her head back, and crossed her arms over her chest. 

Even with her eyes closed, she knew when Joel turned his attention to her. She felt it in the trailed heat on her skin. 

His words from a few nights before played on a loop in her head. Standing outside the mess hall, her mind hazy from the drinks and Joel’s body pressed against her’s. He’d told her that he had lied, that he was wrong and that he couldn’t stay away. Joel had told her that he wasn’t going to let her go again, and that was why he was here, on this ‘suicide mission’ as he’d called it. 

And he’d said all of that, after assaulting her friend in some fit of jealousy.

It was always like that with Joel; violence was wrapped around every emotion. Words were second to what could be said with a stiff punch and a gunshot. 

He wasn’t violent with her, not really. Though so many of their interactions had left her gasping for breath and fearful for her recovery. 

Juliet’s eyes opened and her head rolled to the side, towards Joel. In the low light of the torch, his eyes were black as they stared down at her with a questioning look. 

Maybe it was the dark atmosphere of the cabin, or the fact that it was only them for miles (if you didn’t count the horse and the two corpses in the next room)… but Juliet felt compelled to ask the question which had puzzled her since the dance. 

“What did Matt say to you the other night?” she paused, then added, “before you punched him.” 

Joel’s eyes widened slightly and Juliet watched as he reached forward to sit his wrapper on the table before leaning back on the couch, matching Juliet’s posture. 

Juliet had asked him this same question after it had happened and Joel responded by insisting that Matt couldn’t protect her. But surely he had to have said something to trigger that reaction from Joel, however unwarranted it was. 

Joel’s eyebrows scrunched as though he was battling with himself, deciding whether or not to respond. 

Suddenly he sighed and his eyes dropped to her lips before meeting her inquisitive look again. 

“Didn’t say a damn thing,” Joel replied, his voice was cautious like every word was a struggle to get out. 

Juliet blinked, confused. 

Joel ran a hand over his jaw, then found her eyes again. “I was at the bar and here he comes walkin over with all this confidence, like he’d won you in a fuckin’ competition or somethin,” he ground out, then let out another slow breath as his fingers drummed against his arm. 

“All I could see was the way he had his arms wrapped around you earlier that night,” Joel cut himself off with a shake of his head as his fingers stopped tapping and his hand curled into a fist. 

Then he continued with a shrug. “Decided I wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.”

Joel looked away, staring intently at the fireplace in front of them. 

Without the deep rumble of his voice, the wind battering off the window was the only sound to be heard.

Until Juliet began to laugh. 

At first, she tried to disguise it as a cough but by the time Joel’s head whipped towards her there were tears dripping down her face.

“I knew you were fucking jealous,” she coughed out between laughs, her whole body shaking. 

Joel’s eyes widened and his eyebrows drew together. His face was stone, not a single crack showed. 

Until his hand was over her mouth and the other under her chin as he tilted her face up to meet his. 

Her laughter stopped the second his skin touched hers. 

The edge of his mouth turned upwards as he scanned her eyes. He looked almost proud of his actions. 

“You want me to admit I was jealous?” he challenged, “that what you wanna hear?” 

With his hand still covering her mouth, Juliet could only nod in response. 

His expression darkened. 

“I’m jealous of any man who even looks in your direction, Juliet,” he breathed in a thick murmur, as though his words were too private for even the wind to hear. “I wanna tear out their fuckin’ throats.” 

Juliet swallowed. There was that violence again. 

“I told you that night that you were mine,” he reminded her. “Stayin away from you was only gonna get myself or someone else killed.” 

Juliet ached to close the gap between them, to twist herself around until she sat firmly on his thighs, until her mouth was on his. 

Joel looked as though he would hear every thought in her head and his thumb began to swipe under her chin, savouring the way she trembled beneath his touch. 

“But I also told ya that we were gonna do this right,” he said quietly, then after a moment, he released his grip on her, turned, and sat back against the couch. 

Juliet didn’t miss the way his breathing had grown heavy. 

“What if I don’t want to do this right?” she whispered, throwing his words back at him.

Her thumping heartbeat was rushing in her ears. She shouldn’t be doing this. There’s too much in her head, there was too much going on. 

But in that moment, Joel was all she could focus on. 

The hold he had on her was frightening. From that first day in the QZ when he’d scanned her up and down and looked away with what looked like anger darkening his face… Joel had lodged himself in her mind. 

“What are you so afraid of?” she breathed, her voice almost pleading. 

A muscle jumped in Joel’s jaw as his eyes met hers in a sharp movement. 

“You really do have a death wish, don’t you?” he scolded, then ran a hand over his face again.

This time, when his hand left his chin, it didn’t drop to rest on his leg. Instead, in a lightning quick movement, Joel’s hands were under Juliet’s legs and he dragged her onto his lap, with her legs wrapped around his middle and her arms slung over her shoulders. 

Juliet gasped but she couldn’t deny the excitement that pulsed through her. 

Joel was dangerous and unpredictable and god, did Juliet love when he surprised her. 

“This what you want, huh?” he demanded in a growl against her neck. 

Juliet threw her head back as his lips traced her skin. 

“You want me like this?” he continued to mutter when his lips weren’t attached to her throat. “You want me under you, showin’ you just how much I want you?” Joel taunted as he moved Juliet tighter on his hips, until she felt exactly how much he wanted her.

Juliet had no words. Fire flowed through her veins. She was able to form a single thought, and the most she could utter was a few gentle moans. 

Joel laughed at her speechlessness. 

“Fuck, baby. You should’ve known you’ve had me this whole time,” he confessed as he ground himself against her and grunted at the feeling. 

“When you showed up at my door,” he paused to grip her chin with his strong fingers and tilt her lips down to hover over his, “demandin’ that I take you across the country… I thought I was dreamin’.” 

“Everyday on shift I had to watch you smilin’ and laughin’ with everyone but me. I’d convinced myself that you were a nuisance, some silly girl I wanted nothin’ to do with.”

Juliet wasn’t breathing. She hadn’t even realised he’d noticed her back in the QZ. 

“But I woulda got on my knees if it meant you’d send one of them smiles my way,” he revealed.  “And then you were there, at my door, wantin’ somethin’ from me. I couldn’t fuckin’ believe it.” 

Juliet wet her lips and tried to remember how to form a coherent thought. 

“I always thought you hated me,” she whispered so close to his lips. 

Joel’s jaw clenched as the line between his eyebrows deepened. 

“I tried to,” he confessed. “would’ve been so much easier.” 

His finger reached up to brush through the lock of her hair that had fallen over his face. 

Joel’s hips bucked upwards again and Juliet lost it. She was done waiting. 

Juliet closed the gap between them. Her lips found his just as they had outside the mess hall, in a feverish madness. 

His mouth was burning hot and his hands had a mind of their own. As his tongue entered her mouth, his hands cradled her skull, pulling at her hair until Juliet pressed herself closer to him, grinding on his need for her. 

Her moans here battling against the roar of the wind, and Joel responded with his own grunts which sent heat straight to her core. 

His hands danced down her back and kneaded her thighs, always looking for some part of her to touch. 

When Juliet reached down to palm him through his jeans, Joel’s head dropped to the back of the couch and Juliet watched in the low light as the lines on his face seemed to lose their prominence. 

His eyes were black when they met hers again.  

Joel’s mouth opened and he looked as though he wanted to say something but nothing came out, he just kept staring as Juliet began to move to unbutton his jeans.

Then a hand circled her wrist, stopping her. 

“No,” he breathed. 

“What? Why?” Juliet demanded breathlessly, trying to remember where they were and who she was as she came down from the haze he had trapped her in.

Joel leaned forward and dropped his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, then he inhaled deeply.

“I’m not fucking you on this couch, Juliet,” he ground out slowly, as though the words pained him. 

Disappointment was a blade in her chest. But as the world around her returned, Juliet realised that maybe he was right, maybe this wasn’t the right time. Didn’t mean she didn’t want to, and from the evidence beneath her, it was clear that Joel felt the same. 

The wind and snow attacked the window and her head whipped towards it, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“We better get some sleep,” he said like it was the last thing he wanted to do. 

Juliet eased off his lap and back onto the space beside him on the couch, and Joel eased an arm around her shoulders and moved his chin to rest on top of her head.  

The sense of familiarity in his movements made Juliet’s eyes prick with tears. 

“I kinda missed this,” she murmured against his chest, “just us, out here alone.” 

Joel’s lips brushed across her hair. “Yeah, me too,” he agreed. 

Juliet listened to Joel’s heartbeat as she fell asleep. Somehow, in a cabin in the middle of a blizzard, with two corpses in the next room, Juliet had never felt safer. 

Joel’s POV:

He woke with the winter sun. 

From the window he could see that outside was a dazzling white, almost blinding to his tired eyes. 

Maybe it was because sleep still soaked his subconscious, but Joel’s mind conjured up memories of Sarah looking out the kitchen window and screaming with an excitement that could only come from witnessing fresh, untouched snow and the promise of a day off school. 

When he blinked the memory disappeared and Sarah’s voice was nothing more than a haunting  sound still ringing in his mind, replaced by another scream at the mercy of a soldier’s gun. 

Without disturbing Juliet who still slept against his chest, Joel reached a hand up to wipe over his face, brushing away any memory which would make it impossible for him to find any will to go on. 

He blinked again and his eyes found Juliet’s hand curled around his shirt, tucked under his jacket. A smile almost tugged at his mouth. She really was something. 

When she slept, Joel always thought she looked so peaceful, like nothing could dare disturb that gentle look on her face. 

But he knew peace wasn’t a reality for Juliet, or for him. 

Joel had thought she had found it in Jackson. He was ready to let her go if it meant that she was happy. 

Joel flinched when that image of the scar on her torso flashed in his mind. A wave of nausea rose when he remembered the sight of her still body in that chair with her blood soaked top. 

He wished every fucking day that he had killed her father slower. That he had made him feel the same pain that she had felt her whole fucking life. 

Joel’s hand curled into a fist against his jeans.

If this suicide mission they were on would finally bring Juliet some peace, Joel was willing to risk his own life to get her there, to find those answers she needed. 

But if she got hurt again… Joel would never forgive himself for letting her leave Jackson. 

His terror for Juliet’s safety was eating him alive. 

He’d let it slip last night, some idea of how he felt about her. 

But Juliet didn’t have any idea. 

She might run screaming if she knew exactly how much he cared about her. Joel didn’t even think there were words to express it. 

Maybe when they got back from this alive, he’d find that farmhouse he told her about all those months ago.

Together, living in a farmhouse away from everyone and everything, raising sheep… that was the peace he wanted to make a reality. 

Maybe then he’d let himself be selfish. 

Maybe then he’d tell her that he was madly in love with her. 

Maybe then he might be able to deserve her. 

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

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom

[skellymom]

"Sunset Over Pabu"

Hunter X OC/Reader One Shot

Word Count: 910

Background: An "Old Love" relationship. Nostalgia. Saying Goodbye. Using planet and star interchangeably. The celestial body in this fic is a Moon, similar to our planet Mars it reflects light so the appearance is a shining star.

The inspiration for this story came from @lightspringrain artwork. Including the link to her Etsy shop and image of "Hunter's Moon"

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1556715876/star-wars-the-bad-batch-omega-or-hunter?ref=yr_purchases

There are parallels to the first time Mad met Hunter in this fic. To read how they met, here is the link:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/738467105361494016/vagabonds?source=share

Warning: Sadness.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

They snuggled close on that settee just as they did the first night meeting on Ord Mantell.  In between trips off world, children, weddings, funerals, holidays, and all manner of life Hunter and Mad carved out while on Pabu to watch the sunset together.  Approximately 10 standard cycles of building a bonfire on the beach and cuddling up together to watch the sky turn deep shades of crimson, purple, and eventually black.  Gazing at the stars as they cycled by with the seasons in the night sky. 

The broken settee was resurrected by Hunter’s own hands when they first settled.  He built it strong enough for two.  A solid foundation so it would never break again.  Mad helped weatherproof it to withstand the ocean salt.  Together, they performed maintenance when needed, so it would last for many years.  A continuing project and labor of love. 

In addition, a firepit was constructed to hold the burning heat kept within.  Hunter and Mad collected stones on their travels around the galaxy.  Bringing back chunks of memories to line into a continuing never-ending circle.  Occasionally family and friends would add their own additions when returning to Pabu. Wrecker kept his eye out for oddly shaped or colored rocks while fishing and would surprise them with a new addition already stacked against the ring. 

Tonight, Hunter had a bit of difficulty making his way down the stone steps to the beach.  Mad took his hand, providing support.  His long hair and beard had gotten greyer the last few months.  She joked that he was almost as silver as her.  The wrinkles and laugh-lines accumulated since being together, a happy long life for a clone prominent on his face. He smiled as she fussed about him being careful not to slip. 

“Taking good care of me.” 

“Of course, what else would I do.”  

She winked, and he chuckled. 

He told Mad tonight he’d forego their usual “Spotchka under the stars” and just do “The Stars” for tonight.  The alcohol was wearing heavily on his system, making for extremely tiring mornings after...even with him cutting back considerably. 

In the last few months, Hunter and Mad watched a vibrant moon make its transit across the heavens.  It stood out amongst the other stars.  Burning a brilliant red flicker that could be easily seen even though it was millions of light years away. The bright red star reached the zenith of its orbit and total brilliance tonight per Tech’s calculations.   

“There’s YOUR moon, Hunky!” Mad pointed up above.  

There was a number for this moon at one point. With millions of celestial bodies orbiting the galaxy, only numbers were given to keep track of them all. That wasn't good enough for Omega though. She named it “Hunter’s Moon” rotations ago before leaving on her own journey with Echo and Crosshair. 

“Shame it’s the last night we’ll see it on Pabu.” Hunter mused. 

Mad sighed. “Didn’t Tech say something about it being visible somewhere else?” 

“Think he mentioned another planet not far from this one...” Hunter trailed off. 

“Whattsamatter Hunky?” 

He looked a little guilty “Not sure I’m up to traveling much any time soon.” He also sounded tired. 

“Not in any hurry. We have a sky full of stars.” 

“Mhmm, that’s my Mad... always thinking ahead.” 

“It’s the wanderlust. Brain never shuts off.” 

“I LOVE you, Maadienne.” 

Mad smiled and squeezed his hand. “I LOVE you too, Hunky.” 

They both gazed up at Hunter’s Moon.  

“Make a wish, Mad!”  Hunter said quietly.  

They were both silent for a while.  Then Hunter gently rested his head against hers. 

She knew he wouldn’t come out and tell her his wish, that to tell it wouldn’t come true.  Mad still liked to chide Hunter and try to playfully tease it out of him.  It would end in tickling, laughter, hugs, kisses...and on less tiresome nights love making. On tiresome nights they fell asleep in each other's arms on the beach. 

“Okay Hunky, spill the beans.”  Mad hugged Hunter tighter.  He didn’t reply.   

“Hunky..?”   

Mad brushed Hunter’s long locks away from his face. She gazed down at him, marveling at how the bonfire illuminated his hair, tattoo, dark skin. The face of a sleeping angel.  A rhyme in time back on Ord Mantell all those years ago.  The younger man who decided to buy her a drink in Cyd’s Parlor.  A partner that travelled with her across the galaxy, helped care for her family, whose brothers adopted them all, and a partner that never left her side. 

She caressed his face lovingly, immersing herself in the scent of his skin, hair, and... 

...breath...? 

Hunter’s chest had stilled.  An expected, but heavy weight resting against her body, a bit heavier than his usual bodily presence. 

“Oh...Hunter...Hun...” Mad suddenly hitched and exhaled, tears running down her face. 

She knew this day would eventually come.  And as the full rotations went on, she kept wishing on a certain red star that she could have another standard day with him.  Every standard day she wished to have another. 

But wishes only carry you so far...and there are only so many wishes granted. 

And you must accept that the universe has other plans. 

To believe in having just a moment of happiness instead of none. 

Mad kissed Hunter’s forehead.  “Aw, Hunky...we were REAL good...  Weren’t we? 

The red star above Pabu twinkled in reply to Mad’s words as she hugged Hunter for the last time. 

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[yandere-daydreams]

Title: The Quarry In Daylight.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Eula x Reader.

Word Count: 2k.

TW: Blood/Bruising, Implied Major Injury To Reader, Manipulation, Intimidation, Mindbreak, and Unhealthy Relationships.

[Part One] [Part Three]

Eula took her time, finding her way back to you.

There should’ve been more guilt than there was. She was aware of that. There’d always been guilt before – a coil of dread in the pit of her stomach as she prepared for her next venture outside of the city’s walls, a knot of panic in the back of her throat as she unsealed the most recent letter from one of the many informants she’d asked to keep an eye on you in her absence, a sudden wave of adrenaline as she made her way back to your out-of-the-way flat in the city, as she undid the half-dozen locks and turned the knob, as she pictured your body bruised and bloodied and torn apart because she’d been foolish enough to believe she could leave you unattended - but today, as she trekked through Mondstat’s dense mountain-side woods, her chest felt strangely hollow, and all she could seem to feel was a distant anticipation. It might’ve been your tone, all jagged hostility and frantic desperation, or your expression you’d worn last time she saw you; contorted with anger, your eyes cold and your gaze harsh. Or, maybe it was what you’d said to her. That you didn’t need her protection. That you didn’t want to be with her.

That you didn’t love her.

It wasn’t true, obviously, but you’d said it, and she could still remember the pang that’d struck her heart as you spit the words, the ache that’d overshadowed her sense of caution as she left you there, restrained and alone in the wilderness. It was a strange thing, to be hurt by something she knew you couldn’t have meant, to be so affected by a few harsh words and a lapse in judgement. She’d been numb to refusal for so long, so used to be turned away by her peers and an outcast among her family, that part of her had forgotten just how badly rejection could sting.

You did love her. That was what she settled on as she neared the abandoned encampment where she’d left you. You did love her, because if you didn’t, then she wouldn’t have to hold you so close, wouldn’t feel as if her heart was about to burst from her chest every time she looked at you. You loved her, and one day, you would be ready to admit it, ready to stop running into danger every time she turned her back.

A well-rusted flagpole came into sight, then a long-abandoned firepit, and finally, the first threadbare scrap of fabric from some tent already torn apart by some wild animal. She hummed as she navigated through the forest, only half-minding the trail she’d plotted the night before. Finally, she came to the clearing – rugged and unmaintained, already bursting with new growth. Half-demolished tents and rotting supply crates formed a loose circle and in the center was, of course, you. Exactly where she’d left you, not an inch out of place.

She couldn’t have been prouder if she’d posed you herself.

 That being said, you’d seen better days. Her claymore and your restraints had held strong, but you weren’t made to be so sturdy, weren’t meant to last a night alone with little more company than the elements and a few wild animals. Judging by what she could see, you’d been at the mercy of the latter – your clothes torn and dirt-stained, jagged cuts hatched over your legs and exposed torso. A deep bitemark was embedded in your side, another torn into the skin of your bicep. Wolves, she guessed, most likely one of the smaller packs in the area. Still, you’d gotten lucky. Even the tamest wolf could’ve done worse than take a bite out of you.

She approached you slowly, as she did when she returned from a particularly long reconnaissance mission, when she wasn’t sure how she’d be received. It was an effort wasted on you, though. Your head was bowed, your body hunched forward, and as she kneeled in front of you, she could see that your eyes were closed, your breathing steady. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. You were asleep, poor thing. The exhaustion must’ve gotten to you. Well, that or the blood loss, but the first explanation was just a little more romantic.

Careful to keep her movements silent, her touch featherlight, she reached out, cupping your face in both hands and resting her lips against your forehead. She felt you shift, then after a notable lapse, jerk awake – bolting upright and stiffening underneath her as if someone pressed a knife to your throat. Your mouth fell open, but anything you might’ve said, any noise you might’ve made seemed to hitch in your throat, allowing for little more than a hitched whimper that stumbled past your lips as blinked the sleep out of your eyes. She let you go through the motions, only holding you as you clumsily staggered into consciousness. She would show you that she could be gentle. She would show you that you needed her, no matter how often you played stubborn and refused to admit it.

Finally, she felt you relax. You didn’t go slack, didn’t fall into her arms, but you were pressed against her and not struggling to get away. That was already a victory in itself, but she could celebrate later on.

She let you speak first, address her before she addressed you. She wanted to hear you call out for her. She wanted to hear you ask for her attention, her affection. “…Eula?”

“I’m here.” Her response was spoken against your skin, her voice coming out low and muffled. Still, you heard her clearly enough, another ounce of tension seeping out of your form as she went on. “Are you hurt?”

You were. The evidence was apparent in the blood mixed into the dirt around you and the dark bruises painted in rings around your wrists. You’d need to see a healer when you returned to the city, and yet, you were so adorably quick to shake your head, deny the obvious. “No, I—I don’t think so.” You made a weak attempt to straighten, but the effort was given a merciful death as something in your chest buckled into itself and you winced, shrinking. “I… I don’t remember much. There were wolves, and a group of hilichurls passed by, but they stayed away from the camp. I think I might’ve gotten scratched…?”

“Oh, darling. It’s much worse than that.” She couldn’t suppress her grin, couldn’t stifle the airy chuckle that slipped out of some deep, vulnerable pocket she’d tucked away deep in her chest ages ago. “You’ve covered in puncture wounds. Your arms and legs are torn to shreds. If you’d lost another drop of blood, you’d have much more than a foggy memory and few scars to worry about.”

And there would be scars. She’d seen injuries like this a thousand times before, known the knights who bore them long enough to be familiar with how they’d heal, to guess what would leave a mark and what wouldn’t. Lasting evidence would be useful, if a bit self-indulgent. Next time you raised your voice or spared a second glance toward something it just wasn’t safe for you to have, she’d have tangible proof that you just weren’t able to survive on your own. Not without lasting damage, at least.

“You’re lucky my company has its own healer. Otherwise, I’d have to take you to the cathedral, and—” She paused, letting out a breathy laugh. “I don’t know how you’d even start. Running away without a plan, spending the night alone and defenseless in the wilderness, relying on a very busy knight to come to your rescue… that’d be difficult to explain. Especially with how shy you can be, when you’re embarrassed.”

You bowed your head, your shoulder falling. With some reluctance, she pried herself away from you, her hands dipping to arms and her gaze dropping to the chains keeping you bound in place. There was a little more damage that she’d noticed, at first – the metal chipped and scratched, the blade of her claymore dented and dulled. You’d put up a fight, but it hadn’t done you much good, likely only wasting that much more of your limited strength. “I’m sorry.” Your voice was small, as lovely as birdsong and as pitiful as the desperate mewling of an orphaned kitten. “Please don’t take me to the cathedral. I…” There was a long pause, a stilted inhale. “I just want to go home.”

“I thought you didn’t have a home with me.” It was cruel of her to twist the blade after it’d already been planted so deeply, but she couldn’t seem to resist, not when the knife sat so perfectly in her hand. “I thought the only thing you wanted was for me to leave you alone.”

Your eyes narrowed, your lips parting wordlessly. You seemed conflicted, but she didn’t give you time to tear yourself apart – straightening and removing herself from you completely. “Fine,” she said, already turning away. “If you haven’t changed your mind, then you’re free to stay here for as long as you wish. Maybe, if you know I’m not coming back, you’ll be able to enjoy the ‘freedom’ you’ve fought so hard for.”

She was glad she’d waited, that she hadn’t come when the morning had just started to break through the oppressive night and the forest’s canopy dampened what little light there was. She couldn’t imagine watching your heart shatter open in anything other than the full glory of the afternoon sun.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. She couldn’t imagine how she’d spent an entire night away from you, away from those wide, teary eyes and those trembling shoulders, from the way you jerked towards her out of instinct before remembering your restraints and pulling at those, instead. “Please don’t.” The words were infinitely small, infinitely vulnerable. The soft, unarmored underbelly of something she’d been trying to drive her blade into for years. “I need you.”

You’d begged more frantically last night, tried to fall back on her mercy when your own abilities failed you. There’d been tears, thrashing, a show made of your plea, and yet, this was different, this was better. There was something genuine buried in your muted desperation, something so achingly vulnerable, she couldn’t help but smile, but coo, but let her own delicate heart break on your behalf. She’d ask for more, later on, make you apologize for the worry and the hurt you’d put her through until your throat bled, but that could wait until later on. She needed to show you how kind she could be, right now.

She needed to show you that she loved you, and more importantly, how much you loved her.

Feigning reluctance, she let out a shallow sigh, pushing herself to her feet. You let out a cracked whimper, straining against your cuffs, but your panic was wasted – she wouldn’t have been able to leave you again if her life depended on it. She worked quickly, taking her claymore by its grip and wrenching it from the earth in one fluid motion, bringing it down on the chain connecting your shackles in another. She’d remove them properly in a few hours, after she got you back into the city. After she got you home. For now, you could live with the weight.

Without the tension of your restraints to keep you upright, you collapsed, but she was there to catch you before you hit the ground. Your consciousness had been a fragile thing before, but now, underneath the mounting pressure of your exhaustion, you struggled just to keep your eyes open. Eula smiled, pulling you into her arms, letting you rest your head against her chest. “Sleep. I’ll wake you up if I need to.”

You nodded, but hesitated, crossing your arms over your chest protectively. “I’m sorry. I really am. I never could’ve made it on my own.”

“I know,” she said, her grin broadening. Because she did. Because she believed you.

Because she’d made sure you’d never last another moment away from her again, and she’d never have to go a second without you.

[avatar-anna]

ANGST BECAUSE EVERYONE HERE LIKES IT!!! Where some of Harry's friends are mean to y/n, they kind of torment her by talking about Camille in front of her, and about how Harry would have written the entire fine line for Camille, and that maybe he's still in love with her and is just deceiving himself with the reader. And obviously Harry doesn't know that his friends are that bad with y/n

"H! I love your sweater."

"Oh, thanks," he said, looking down at it. His face glowed from the firepit you and all his friends were sitting around. It was tradition. Once a month, you all got together at Harry's place and had a big dinner, everyone bringing something to share. It was lowkey, calm, and an opportunity for everyone to catch up despite their busy schedules.

It was supposed to be fun, but you were a little new to the event, and Harry's friends were very...protective of him.

You'd only been on a few dates, and when he invited you, you didn't realize you were about to meet his close circle of friends. And now we were here, trying to feel comfortable under Harry's arm while trying to get his friends to like you. It was a very hard thing to do considering half of them wouldn't give you the time of day.

They didn't...not like you, but they didn't exactly give you the warmest welcome. You knew you were Harry's first...someone after his last breakup, but he hadn't divulged much information on his ex, so you didn't know how serious it was. Not that you expected him to, neither of you were there yet. You'd had a total of five dates so far, all of which were great, but you were still in that early phase of trying to present the best versions of yourselves and not divulge any dirty secrets so as not to scare each other away.

"That was the one Camille picked out for you, right?" Gia, the woman who asked about the sweater originally, said.

Since Harry was so close to you, you felt him tense. "I, uh, I'm not really sure."

You patted him on the stomach, trying to let him know that you weren't rattled. Because that's what Gia was trying to do, she was trying to rattle you. You didn't know why, but she wanted you to be painfully aware that she, and a couple others here, clearly preferred Camille over you.

But you weren't rattled. Not in the slightest. Honestly you thought it was a little rude that the people who called themselves Harry's friends kept bringing up his ex when he was clearly uncomfortable talking about her.

Looking at you, Gia said, "Camille has the best taste. She used to bring back the best clothes for all of us after Paris Fashion Week."

"Wow, it almost sounds like you want to date her," you said.

You wouldn't have said anything if that was the first time Gia had brought up Camille in front of you, but it wasn't. If she was allowed to make comments, then so we're you. And it was just a joke, one that Harry found funny. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he chuckled quietly. He squeezed your arm affectionately, something you quickly learned he did often. He liked to communicate through touch, something you liked, especially now.

Gia frowned before taking a sip of her wine. "That's a little insensitive to Harry's feelings, don't you think? I mean, he just broke up with her."

Just? You knew you should take anything Gia said with a grain of salt, but that wasn't what Harry told you. Past relationships had come up over a shared bottle of wine, and he told you his last relationship ended months ago. "A little sticky, and I was very, very sad, but I'm over it now. Promise," he'd said to you.

"I'm not your rebound, am I? Because I like you too much to be a rebound," was your reply. It was a joke obviously, you liked your jokes, but Harry seemed to like when you told them.

Harry leaned over to take the bottle of wine from you and pulled you over to him. "No rebounds. I really like you too."

That was last week, and you had been smooth sailing ever since. You and Harry were just taking things slow, seeing where life took you, but his friends seemed to think you were getting married.

"That's not true Gia," Harry sighed.

"I mean it's not...not true," she said. "It's been, what, six months since you broke up and you've already moved on with...with her. Come on, H, you were a wreck! Drunken nights, picking you up from bars, convincing you not to call her while you were drunk. You wrote an entire album after her. I mean really, H, we're just supposed to believe you've moved on and suddenly happy? You haven't smiled once tonight."

You were floored. Not just by her outburst, but by what was revealed. Harry told you he'd been sad, but it sounded like it was more than that. Harry wrote his whole album about her. Was Gia right to say all that? She was a little rude in her delivery, but at least now you understood where she was coming from. If you'd moved on after being a complete trainwreck like Gia implied, your friends would be protective too.

But it wasn't your place to judge, or make things more uncomfortable for Harry. He stopped talking, wouldn't look at anyone, just hung his head while everyone sat in awkward silence. You weren't his girlfriend—not yet, you hoped—but you needed to be in his corner.

"Hey, I think I need a refill. Want to help me?" you asked, squeezing his hand.

"I think you can handle getting your own—"

"And I think you've said enough, Gia," you said, not even looking at her. You understood where she was coming from, but you had enough of her. Being protective over Harry was one thing, but she didn't have to be a complete bitch to you all night.

"Come on," you said as you stood up. You stretched your hand down to where Harry was still sitting. You smiled while helping him to his feet.

As you walked away, you heard Gia mutter to the rest of Harry's friends, "Can you believe her? I mean God I miss Camille. Didn't he see her like a month ago?"

That little nugget of information didn't go unnoticed by you, but you ignored it, not saying anything until you were in the kitchen. When you were finally alone, Harry still didn't say anything. You wanted to break the silence, but you didn't know how.

“I'm sorry about them,” he finally said, still looking down at where his hands were clasped in front of him.

"They were just looking out for you," you said, but you were thankful he'd apologized. Now you just needed him to explain a couple things. "Did you really see her a month ago?"

That was only a few weeks before you met Harry. He told you he was over her, but if Gia was to be believed, he was still very much hung up on Camille.

"It's not what you think," he said.

You sighed. "So that's a yes."

"I—Yes, I did see her."

You were expecting more, an explanation maybe, but Harry didn't give you one. His reluctance to talk about her alone seemed like a red flag, alerting you to the fact that he hadn't moved on as much as he claimed.

"Listen, I guess you don't owe me an explanation, but I would like to know what I'm doing here. We've only gone out a handful of times, and we're not that serious, but I meant it when I said I didn't want to be a rebound, so if that's what this is, then—"

"It's not. Y/n, I swear it's not," he said, quick to grab your hand. "I also meant it when I said that you weren't a rebound. I like you a lot."

"But?" you asked. These things usually came with a "but."

"But nothing, I just like you," he said with a shrug. "I'm just upset that my friends are constantly in my business about everything. I'd been trying to call Camille about using a voice recording she left on my phone for one of the songs. She hadn't been answering my calls, so I finally just went to her place to see if she was there. I literally just asked her, got her answer, and left. I'm sorry they've been so heinous."

"I know, right? I'm kind of amazing," you joked. It was dumb, but it was enough for Harry to crack a smile.

You were glad he finally explained, and you were more inclined to believe Harry over his friends. It seemed like he downplayed the details of his previous relationship, but you didn't mind that much. You were still in the very early stages of your relationship, you didn't expect him to bare his soul to you when you'd only known each other a month. All of that would come with time, and he seemed like someone worth giving your time to.

"You really are," Harry said. He brought you closer by tugging your joined hands towards him, and you followed, wrapping him up in a hug. Both of you needed it after tonight. "Do you want me to kick them out? If my friends made you uncomfortable, I can get them to leave."

"I'm okay with them staying, but only if you want them to."

The last thing you needed was for them to leave now and have them think you were stealing him away from them or that you couldn't handle a little pressure. You were more than capable of putting up with Gia's comments, but if Harry wanted to leave, that was fine with you too.

"Mm, they can stay just a little longer, but then I want you all to myself," he said, leaning down to kiss your cheek and jaw.

"Well, I can't say no to that," you said, leaning into his kiss.

Harry kept peppering your skin with little kisses, and you kept letting him, not in any rush to go back out to where his friends were.

He seemed a lot more complex than how he presented himself, that much you'd learned today, but that didn't scare you off or make you want to stop seeing him. You just wanted to know as much as he was willing to give you.

[rubyreduji]

friends don't — lc

summary: you and chan are friends, but friends don't do what you do

tags: angst, fluff, pining, college!au wc: 3.3k an: yall are gonna hate me for this one (based off “friends don’t” by maddie & tae)

“Hey Y/N, Chan just got here, he said he was looking for you,” one of your friends tells you as they pass you. You thank them as your eyes start to scan the crowd, landing on the subject matter standing near the front door.

You push through the bodies of the partygoers until you’re standing right in front of the boy who was seeking you out.

“Hey Chan.” When the boy sees you in front of him, his face lights up.

“Y/N! I was just looking for you.”

“Well here I am! Do you want a drink?” Chan nods and you lead him through the crowd into the kitchen. You pour a drink for Chan and then one for yourself.

“You look really good tonight, by the way,” Chan mentions as he takes his cup.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I think some of the other guys are in the backyard, if you wanna head out that way.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Chan takes your hand and pulls you behind him as he leads the way this time. The feel of his hand in yours burns against your skin and you can’t help but glance down at where your palms are pressed together.

Chan is your…friend. Yeah, you guys are friends.

Sometimes though, late at night when you’re staring up at your ceiling, you wonder if you’re something more. You know you wish you were something more, but there’s always that fear that Chan feels differently and you ruin a perfectly good friendship. So for right now you guys are…just friends.

In the backyard of the house is a large group of your friends standing around a firepit, various drinks of alcohol in their hands. You and Chan fall into place in the circle, standing between Seungkwan and Jihoon.

Everyone is discussing something, but you can’t totally pay attention because Chan is standing so close to you and you can smell his cologne and you want to do nothing but bury your face in his neck. The night is a bit chilly and you shuffle a bit closer to Chan to try and steal some of his warmth.

“Y/N-ah, are you going to that seminar on Tuesday with that one producer? That Bumzu guy?” Jihoon asks you. You turn a bit to face him, where he’s standing next to you.

“Yeah, probably. My professor said he’d give us extra credit if we went,” you tell the older boy. You two share a major, but most of your friends have some kind of music or performance related major, like Chan, who’s a dance major.

You and Jihoon continue to chat for a while, before Vernon jumps in as well. You’re not paying much attention to the others, but you’re still always slightly aware of Chan’s constant presence. You can feel the back of his arm press into your back, the heat of his body, as you both hold your own conversations with your friends.

A bit of time passes before you’re interrupted by the conversation that Chan is having with Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan. They’re arguing about something, but you can’t think about a time when those four aren’t arguing.

“No, no way! You’re completely wrong,” Seungcheol says. “I’m right!”

“Yeah, yeah, when is he not,” Chan mutters to you. “Someone’s got his panties in a twist.” You snort at Chan’s remark, only to draw the attention of one of the older guys.

“What are you two laughing about over there?” Jeonghan calls.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Chan retorts. “That was a Y/N only sentence.”

“Of course it was,” Seungkwan mutters with a playful eye roll.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you two are always in your own little world,” Jeonghan says. “It’s like nobody else even exists when you two are around each other.”

“Yeah well, maybe I don’t want anyone else to exist in our world. It seems pretty good just the two of us.” Chan wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, sending a chill through your spine. The other guys brush Chan off and go back to their conversation.

Even without the attention of the other guys, Chan’s arm stays around your waist. You look at him and smile softly. “Do you wanna leave soon?”

“Sure. You need a ride home?” You nod. You guys say your goodbyes to your friends before you and Chan head to his car.

Chan opens the door for you before running around to the other side of the car to get into the driver’s seat. You settle back on the leather seats of his car and kick off your shoes that have been pinching your feet all night.

You reach over and turn up the radio as Chan starts the pull away from the party. You softly hum along to the familiar tune on the radio and soon Chan joins in as well. You notice Chan’s driving slower than he normally would (he’s a chronic speeder and he’s going under the speed limit) but you don’t mind. He does this every time he’s going to drop you off home, just to get a few more minutes with you. 

“So pretty girl,” Chan reaches across the center console and grabs your hand in his, “tell me about that thing you and hyung were talking about earlier.”

“Oh yeah! So there’s this producer coming in to talk to all of the music composition students on Tuesday and we’re going to be able to ask him questions and then there’s a rumor going around that he might give some of the students an opportunity to work on some music with him,” you explain. “I’ve listened to some of his music and his work is amazing.”

You continue to ramble on about your passion for music until Chan pulls up to your apartment. You barely even realize you’re home until Chan shuts the car off.

“Let me walk you to your door,” he says and when have you ever turned him down. You two climb out of his car and you two slowly start towards your door.

This time it’s Chan who starts to ramble about this new song he’s choreographing for his dance team. He doesn’t finish up until you’re inside of your apartment and you’ve already slipped into comfier clothes and started boiling water for tea.

You glance at the time, then back to where Chan is fiddling with his keys in your doorway. It’s late, you know he should go, but you don’t want him to, and from the looks of it Chan doesn’t really want to either. “You should stay for tea. I mean it’s already steeped, the least you could do is stay and have a cup.” 

Chan doesn’t argue as he takes a seat at the counter. You pour two cups before you sit down next to Chan. You two continue to talk until late into the night. You glance over at the clock at 2:00 am and turn to Chan.

“You should just…spend the night tonight. Since it’s so late.” It wouldn’t be the first time Chan has slept over, but even then it rarely happens.

You can see Chan brighten at the idea but calm himself down so he comes off cool. “Yeah, if you’d be okay with that.”

“Of course.”

So that’s how you and Chan end up laying next to each other, shoulder to shoulder on your bed. Neither of you say anything, but you know you’re both awake. You stare up at the ceiling, too afraid to glance to the side and look at Chan.

You feel him stir a bit next to you and you can’t take it any longer. You roll to your side to look at Chan, only to find him already looking at you. “Can we…? Would you mind if I…?” You gesture a bit to his body and thankfully Chan understands because he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to him. You settle into place, pressed up against him. It feels right. You fall asleep shortly after, safe in his arms.

It isn’t until about a week later that another situation occurs with Chan that has you wondering that maybe he wants to be more than friends as well. You’ve been out late working on a project at the library when you get a call from Chan as you’re walking into your apartment.

“Hey? What’s up, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just…wanted to say hi. Hear your voice.” His tone is soft and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“Well then, hi. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been in the studio, working on some choreography, but nothing special. I got a call from my mom earlier and that was a conversation. I love her, but she just keeps pestering me on ‘what comes next’.”

“Well, what was your response?”

“I don’t know, and I told her that. I don’t have any big plans, just things I want to happen. I want to choreograph for real, something big even. Wouldn’t that be awesome? To be able to do what I love, and have people recognize me for it. And of course you’ll be there too, getting the same kind of recognition for your music. We could be like a power duo. You make the songs, I make the dances. Maybe we could get signed by some big K-Pop label and we could be a power couple!”

You listen to Chan ramble on as you move around your apartment getting ready for bed. You smile at the idea of being in Chan’s future, and you can’t help but wonder what he means by “power couple”. You try to ignore the way it makes your cheeks and your heart warm. 

“Sorry, I’m talking when I was the one who called to hear your voice,” Chan says.

“No, no, I like hearing you talk. The future you want…it sounds nice. I wouldn’t mind living a life like that.”

“Yeah?” Chan sounds hopeful. You hope it means what you want it to.

“Yeah, of course. I want you every step of the way to where we’re going, which of course is only going to be the top.”

“That’s my girl, that’s what I like to hear.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Uhm…I had plans to meet up with someone from my studio, but I can cancel on them. It’s nothing important, and it’s not like she hasn’t canceled on me before.”

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want you to cancel just for me, it’s nothing important. I just wanted to know if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me, but it could be another day, or I could just go by myself.”

“No, no,” Chan interjects, “I want to go with you. You know I’d take any opportunity to see you. I promise you, no plans are more important than you. So I’ll pick up tomorrow at noon, okay?”

You smile. “Sounds perfect.”

“Hi gorgeous,” Chan says as soon as you open the door. You roll your eyes but still smile at the nickname.

“You’re one hundred percent sure your friend is okay with you canceling?”

“Of course. Stop worrying that cute little head of yours, okay?” Chan shoots you his signature smile and it calms your nerves so you drop it.

You and Chan drive to your grocery store of pick and Chan grabs a cart for you. He follows behind you, pushing the cart, as you go through the aisles looking for what you need. You and Chan make idle chatter as you search for each thing on your list.

Traitorously, your mind points out how domestic this feels. It doesn't just feel domestic, it feels natural, like this should be Chan’s permanent place in your life. You don’t mention it when Chan grabs a few things for himself as well, throwing them into the cart to keep on hand at your place for him. Just like a boyfriend would.

You can’t shake the idea out of your head until you get to the cash register. The cashier looks to be a guy on the younger side and you smile at him and exchange niceties as you start to unload your groceries from the cart.

“So, are you from around here?” The cashier asks as he starts to ring you up.

“Yeah, I go to college just down the street.”

“Same, Sebong U?”

“Yeah!”

“Crazy, I’ve never seen you on campus. Trust me, I’d remember if I saw someone as pretty as you.” The guy flashes a smile at you and you blush a bit.

All of a sudden you feel Chan slide up behind you, a protective hand on your waist. “Can you ring us up? We’re in a hurry.”

The cashier flushes and nods. “Of course, sorry. Cash or card?”

You want to question Chan on his actions but you have to pay for the groceries so you turn your focus back to the task at hand. Even as your paying Chan doesn’t loosen his grip on you until you two are exiting the register.

“The check out guy was flirting with you,” Chan says as soon as you two exit the building.

“He was not. He was being friendly, it’s his job.”

“No, he was flirting with you.” Chan’s pouting. Why is he pouting?

“Does that bother you, Channie?” You joke, but he answers seriously.

“Yes. You’re my pretty, and my pretty girl only. Anyone else who wants to flirt with you has to get through me first.” He’s jealous. Chan is jealous someone was flirting with you and if he wasn’t standing four inches away from you, you’d probably celebrate. That doesn’t stop your heart from fluttering the whole way home.

“What’s going on between you and Chan?” The question takes a little off guard as Seungkwan sits down next to you in class.

“What do you mean?” You ask him nonchalantly, but deep down you have an idea of what he’s asking about.

“Don’t play that game with me Y/N. We all know you and Chan are oddly close to each other, but it’s been getting even more intense lately. Are you guys dating or what? Remember you’re not allowed to keep secrets from me.”

“Okay, I’m actually so glad you brought it up because I’ve been dying to talk to someone about it. Chan and I aren’t dating, but I like him, and I think he likes me, but I’m not completely sure. He’s been a lot more flirty and sweet to me lately and I can’t tell if he’s giving me signs or not.”

“I mean, you guys can’t be just friends, friends don’t act like that. I know Chan, and trust me, he likes you,” Seungkwan tells you.

“So do I make a move?”

“Unless you want to be in this weird dating but not dating limbo for the rest of time, then yes! Ask him out!”

“Okay, okay!”

Your stomach is giddy but your talk with Seungkwan has made you feel worlds better about your decision to finally confess your feelings to Chan and ask him out. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, all signs point to good things. He’s practically your boyfriend anyways, so it’s not like things are going to change much.

You and Chan are meeting up at a park where you’re going to tell him everything. You get to the meeting spot first but you only have to wait a couple minutes until Chan is strolling up to you.

“You know it’s not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out here all alone.”

“Well good thing you’re here to protect me,” you tell him as you reach out for his arm. He lets you take it and you two start to walk.

“You said you had something important to tell me?” You nod. “Well I have something important to tell you too, but I’ll let you go as it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“How chivalrous,” you tease him, but can’t wonder if you have the same important thing to say. You chew at your lip a moment, thinking of how to start this.

“Is everything okay?” Chan stops walking to look at you directly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay?”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Chan, we can’t keep kidding ourselves anymore? I’m tired of walking on eggshells.”

“Y/N? What are you talking about?”

“You can’t tell me that this, us, isn’t nothing. I know there’s something, I just know it. I look into your eyes and I know it.” You grab his hand and hold it in yours.

“Know what?” You don’t get why he doesn’t understand what you’re saying.

“That we’re more than friends Chan! I love you, and you can lie and say you don’t love me, but I know you do!”

“Y/N…” The look on Chan’s face makes you feel ill. Your heart clenches at his tone of voice.

“No, no, Chan whatever you’re going to say you don’t mean it. You can’t tell me I’m wrong because what have all of these months been? The hand holding, the late night talks, the pet names. That can’t be nothing.” You know you sound desperate. You don’t really care.

“Y/N, I have a girlfriend.” Your ears start to ring. Your chest feels tight. You don’t think you’re breathing. “I wanted to see if I would be a good boyfriend so I-”

“What? Lead me on? How did you think that was going to go?”

“I didn’t think it would end like this! I never meant to-”

“No, no. You don’t get to do this. I-,” your voice breaks, sobs threatening to pour out from your lips. “Fuck you Lee Chan.” You barely spit the words out before tears start to stream down your face. You quickly turn and leave before Chan can see you at your lowest point.

You’re devastated, you’re heartbroken, but more than anything, you’re humiliated. Chan just used you, and all the while you were falling in love with him. You’re nothing but a fool.

You’re not prepared to see Chan when you run into him a few weeks later when you’re out with Seungkwan and Soonyoung. You’re even less prepared to see the girl standing at his side, hand enveloped in his.

You haven’t seen Chan since that day. That hasn’t stopped you from crying about him almost every day.

“Oh, hey guys,” Chan says when he notices the group. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you a little too long.

“Is this your little girlfriend, Channie?” Soonyoung teases.

This seems to break Chan’s gaze from you as he turns his sight back to the girl. “Yeah, this is Jaehwa. My girlfriend.”

“I still can’t help but get all excited to hear you call me that,” Chan’s girlfriend, Jaehwa, says. She then turns to the three of you. “It took him nearly three months to ask me out. Not that I didn’t know he liked me, he was always flirting in dance practice. He’s a little tease like that, you know?”

Yeah, you do know.

You feel Seungkwan silently reach under the table to grab your hand. You squeeze it tight.

Your gaze meets Chan’s and you stare at each other for a moment. You can tell he knows that he’s hurt you. You used to love the fact you two could communicate with just your eye, but now you just break his gaze, hoping he feels as much guilt as you feel shame. 

It doesn’t take long for Chan and his girlfriend to leave and you finally start to feel yourself relax, but your eyes sting like tears could burst out at any moment. 

Seeing Chan with his girlfriend upsets you, but it also angers you. You’ve spent the last three weeks pitying yourself, when really you should be furious for Chan for how he’s treated you. For what he’s done to you.

Friends don’t do that to their friends.

But then again, you don’t think you and Chan have been friends for a long time.

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[amansabastris]

be my star, pt. 3 - the tulkun return

lo'ak x male metkayina reader

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

"sa'nu, do not push yourself. let me do it." [name] said, picking up the ball of twine she had been struggling to pick up from the floor.

"you're home." she said, happy to no longer be trying to bend with her pregnant belly. "where have you been, my son?"

"ah, you know, sa'nu- off at my fishing spot. i finished making a couple tweng for little one, too." he opened the bag slung across his body to show off the cute baby clothes.

"oh?" she smiled, taking the blue fabric into her hands. "and that was all you were doing out there? no forest boys today?"

"sa'nok!"

"what? you haven't stopped talking about him since you met. i think i have the right to ask." she had a smirk on her face as she sat back down in her hammock. the baby should be born any day now- but was stealing all of her energy in the meantime.

"...yes, i did see lo'ak today." [name] sighed, embarrassed.

"and? what did you two do?"

"you're so nosy, sa'nu. we just... talked, okay?" he purposefully leave the part out where he met the killer tulkun.

"it is not nosy! my son has been off all day with a boy from another clan and i can't ask questions?" she obviously wasn't really upset, just playfully arguing.

[name] rolled his eyes, setting down his bag by his bedroll and kneeling by the firepit. his mother set back to work with the ball of twine in her hands.

a steady chop rang through the marui as he set to work cutting vegetables, making dinner so his mother wouldn't have to. a pleasant chatter filled the room as the mother and son spoke to one another.

"the start of your sibling's songcord is almost done. you father is supposed to make her birth beads for all of our songcords- and i've already picked her birthstone."

the night was warm and full of love- just a family preparing for their newest member.

"yawne, would you stop by the tsahìk's marui today while you're out? she has an herb for me, says it will help with my discomfort."

two days later, she had still not gone into labor. she wore a frown on her face as she spoke to her mate, walking circles around her home in hopes it would coax the baby into being ready.

[name] sat on the floor, eating a sweet fruit and listening to his parents interact.

"of course, paskalin. you get your rest today, alright? you-" his father's voice was cut off by a loud horn blaring through the village.

[name]'s ears perked up and a smile bloomed on his face- he could pick up one distinct word from outside. tulkun.

he turned back to his mother as he stands up. his father has taken her arm, and they're both smiling, making their way towards the door.

"well? go!" she beamed, gesturing out at the sea.

[name] ran from the marui as fast as his legs would take him, diving into the water with the others. excitement coursed through his veins as he found an ilu and looked at the dozens and dozens of tulkun- looking for one in particular, of course.

it didn't take long to spot his spirit brother. sunutxoa was a young tulkun, just a couple years older than [name], who had just gained the first of his tattoos the year before.

sunutxoa vocalized happily as he saw his na'vi brother, who quickly swam from the ilu to hug the big creature.

"my brother, i have missed you." he signed as he pulled away from the embrace.

"and i missed you. how have you been?" the tulkun clicked, joy clear in his tone.

the two spoke under the water for as long as the possibly could before [name] had to resurface for air- and even then, he didn't stop signing with his brother.

they hadn't seen each other since the last migration, after all- they had so much to catch up on. as they spoke, exchanged stories, he found himself lost in the words. he trusted few as much as he trusted sunutxoa. he found himself saying things to him that he hadn't even thought about saying yet.

"i met a boy."

the tulkun blinked, showing his attention and interest.

"take me to meet him." the tulkun made his wishes clear- he wants to meet the boy who has made his brother so happy in his absence.

and of course [name] couldn't say no to his brother- not to the tulkun he's spent his entire life with. so he swallowed his pride and held onto sunutxoa's fin, directing him towards his favorite fishing spot, hoping lo'ak would be there.

"sunu, i need to tell you- his spirit brother, you... you may not like him. i did not like him at first either, i understand- i'm a little scared of him still. but i trust this boy, and if this is his spirit brother, then i trust him too." he speaks aloud this time, now that he's above the water and sunutxoa is focused on swimming.

the tulkun glanced at him, confused.

"who is his brother?" he blinks.

[name] takes a deep breath before responding.

"lo'ak is brother of payakan, sunu."

sunutxoa looked at his brother with an almost unreadable expression. what had gotten into [name] in the last season for him to interact with the killer tulkun?

"don't give me that look! i know, i know how it sounds- but i trust lo'ak, ok?"

'my poor brother has lost his mind.' sunutxoa thought to himself. at least he was there to protect him now.

the tulkun had half a mind to just turn around and go right back to the village- but it seemed it was too late for that. in the distance, he could see a boy riding on a tulkun. he could tell that [name] noticed too by the way he perked up.

"[name]!" the na'vi boy called, waving as his tulkun carried him closer. sunutxoa kept his distance as they approached. payakan circled him in curiosity, happy to see another tulkun after all this time- but sunutxoa circled him suspiciously, as if payakan would attack at any moment.

"this is your spirit brother, then?" lo'ak asks, smile on his face, then beginning to sign to the tulkun. "it is very nice to meet you."

his spirit brother's worries seemed to fade ever so slightly at the boy's kindness. he blinked a response, but quickly turned his attention back to the other tulkun.

payakan was completely enamored sunutxoa. it had been years since he had been with another tulkun like this- so close he could see every marking, every expression, every gleam in his eyes.

the two tulkun were very close in age; maybe a year difference at the most. and as payakan slowly examined the beautiful swirling ink tattooed on the other's skin, he felt a twinge in his heart as he realized- the other tulkun in his generation were completing their rights of passage, becoming adults. payakan could not.

the young na'vi boys chattered endlessly above the surface, but payakan didn't hear a word- too focused on the tulkun in front of him. sunutxoa kept his cautious and standoffish deminor up, but watched as payakan's eyes studied his tattoos. he moved a little- proud of the markings he'd earned.

sunu watched as payakan's big yellow eyes studied him, and he couldn't help thinking- he has the kindest eyes. i didn't think a killer could.

he found himself not being as nervous as he thought he would as [name] and lo'ak swam to shore to sit with each other.

"i am happy to see you again, [name]. how are you? how is your sa'nok?" lo'ak asks, smile on his face.

"i'm good! she's good, too- the baby will be here any day, you'll have to come and meet them."

the omatikaya boy's face lit up at the offer.

"really? i... would really like that." he said, shifting to sit a little closer.

"of course," [name] leaned back against the rocks as he spoke. "i like being with you, forest boy. more than i'd like to admit."

"yeah? well- i like being with you, too." the corner of his mouth twitched up in pride. he leaned back against the rocks, looking up at the sky.

"it's almost eclipse," [name] said, with lo'ak humming in response. he shaded his eyes with a hand and looked up like the other boy.

and with that, the sky went from light to dark- revealing the beautiful night sky full of thousands upon thousands of stars.

as the temperature fell with the darkness, [name] found himself closer to lo'ak than he'd ever been before. if he said anything, it could easily be played off as being cold- but he didn't say a word. lo'ak slowly wrapped his arm around the other boy's shoulders, keeping him close.

"do you like looking at the stars?" lo'ak asks, looking down at [name]'s face, only illuminated by his pretty blue tanhì. [name] answered with a little nod, still looking up at the sky as he listened.

"you know, my dad came from a star." he said, taking one of [name]'s hands in his own and pointing out one in the night sky. "that one- right there."

[name] smiled, cheeks blushing a light purple. lo'ak looked down at him when he didn't say anything- then blushed himself, seeming to realize what he had done.

"sorry." he whispered, letting go of his hand. [name], however, shook his head and slipped his hand back into loak's.

"don't be sorry." he said simply, then gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

they stayed like that till they couldn't anymore- knowing they needed to get home before someone sent out a search party.

but before [name] could step back into the cold water, lo'ak cupped his face in one hands and pressed their foreheads together.

"see you soon." he whispered as he pulled away.

[name] blushed, smiling wide.

"see you soon."

©️ copyright amansabastris, 2023

all rights reserved

do not copy/paste, claim as your own, post on different sites, or translate without prior consent from me

[elliebyrrdwrites]

13.2

THEO

There’s mud everywhere and Theo definitely smells dog shit somewhere nearby.

He charmed his shoes but the feeling of the mud, wet and slippery beneath the soles of them causes him to grimace.

“There’s nobody here.” He says, unnecessarily as Harry scans their surroundings with a mild look of shock on his face.

“Where the hell did they go?”

“Well,” Theo frowned. “They are gypsies, aren’t they. Bloody flakes.” He searched for dry land. There was remnants of a fire, ash and burnt wood piled into a circle made of rocks. He could make out burnt pieces of trash inside.

Harry scratched at the top of his head moving carefully through the mud, avoiding all tracks as he scanned the ground beneath their feet.

“What are you looking for in the mud?” Theo wished he had a broom.

“Last time Draco and I came, there was this really odd looking track.” He pointed to a place in the mud that looked freshly dug up. “Right there. It’s been disturbed, maybe covered or dug up.” He frowned, pausing. “It looks intentional.”

He dropped his hand and straightened. Theo watched Harry start to turn slowly around, scanning the area.

“What is it?”

“Whoever covered this must have seen Draco and I inspecting it.”

“Maybe it was just the dirty work of a gypsy mucking about in the mud.”

“Sure but,” Harry shook his head, fervently. “Something feels...off.”

Theo’s eyes sharpened on the area around them, his hand immediately going to his wand holster.

“When Draco and I spoke to Fiadh, she mentioned the idea of some sort of entity that follows them around...” Harry froze, eyeing the grassy field to their left.

“What is it, Potter?”

“Do you see something out there.” He was squinting, now.

Theo could just barely make out something dark and low in the tall blades of grass. The setting sun and the lack of city lights did nothing to help them discern the figure. It could be an animal. It could be a person. It could be nothing.

Theo slowly made his way towards the field with Harry. Both had their wands drawn. While Harry remained focused on the target several meters away, while Theo’s eyes continuously scanned behind them and around the sides.

There was a smell wafting towards them as they neared.

Theo knew the smell. He knew what they were coming up on before he saw it.

Harry hissed and stopped about three yards from the body.

Theo grimaced as he took in the bloody body sprawled out on the grass. Blood stained the grass, and had dried to a dark rust color. This body was at least a day old, judging by the intensity of the odor. It wasn’t as thick as one that had been there longer than two days. There was no evacuation of the bowels, which typically happens after four days.

Theo couldn’t make out the features on the wizards face. But he could tell that it was male, fully clothed and had undergone a terrible altercation.

“Is this one of the gypsies?” Theo shook hair from his face, working against the breeze that tore through the field, picking up that odor and spinning it around them.

“I don’t know. I only saw a couple of them when we came. Fiadh lived alone in her tent but there was one wizard who was out tending to the fire when we came out of her tent.” Harry nodded to the firepit.

Theo glanced over to it, making a mental note to check on the trash inside as Harry squatted down to look more closely at the wizards face. “I can’t tell if this is him. He’s been beaten to a pulp.”

“Crimes of passion,” Theo murmured. “Shall we crash Draco and Granger’s date?”

Harry looked up at Theo. “Date?”

“Hermione took him on a date.” He shrugged and began to walk back towards the cold pit of ash. "I'm sure he'll muck it all up."

Harry cast a preservation charm over the body. “Wait. What? I thought she was going on a pretend date with Terry to make him jealous.”

“I might have talked her into tricking Draco into taking him on one.”

“So, you meddle.” Theo shrugged at that. “You’re as bad as Ginny.”

“Oh, she helped.”

Harry scoffed. “Of course.” They both approached the firepit and Harry crouched down to poke at the remnants of the trash with the tip of his wand. “And you help plan weddings. Who knew you were such a romantic.”

Theo snorted. “Who said I was?” There was little time for romance in his life. Had there been women? Definitely. Did he pursue any of them? Never.

“You give a lot of advice for someone who isn’t.” Harry pushed over a half burned Styrofoam cup. “Never been in love, then?”

Theo pursed his lips. He’d consider his life to be too complicated to insert love into it. He did enjoy observing the drama of love unfold around him. Did it make him jealous? No, not at all.

“I can’t say that I have been, no.” Theo ignored the memory of raven black hair, pale skin and silk sheets.

“Look at this,” Harry murmured. Theo peered into the mess of ash and scraps of paper, styrofoam and chicken bones.

“Is that,” Theo’s eyes widened as he pulled away. “Is that the gossip section of the Daily Prophet?”

Harry nodded and summoned the page with his wand, lifting it into the air for them to read whatever they could from it.

Theo could read the date in the top right corner. “It’s from February.”

Harry stiffened beside him. “Oh, fuck.”

It didn’t take long for Theo to find what had caused Harry to freak out. There was a photo of Hermione standing beside Ron. Below, was a caption;

Famous muggle-born witch, Hermione Granger, makes Head of Committee as her relationship falls apart.

“Send for Draco.” Harry hissed as he sent his own Patronus to Dawlish.

[spiritofhyena]

Black salt / witches' salt

WARNING: do NOT mix it up with the edible black salt for kitchen use. They are both called “black salt” but one is salt with activated charcoal or salt from a volcanic area that can be used in cooking, the other is a mix of salt, ashes, and other non-edible things used as a protection or banishing spell. I personally use it as a halfway between warding/protection and banishing as I add things usually associated with banishing.

I tried to search up the origin of the “witches’ salt” but I didn’t find anything solid (but also I made only a couple of quick searches on google because I was crunching time as I did this either before/after work or sometimes during slow moments at work) so, my best guess would be that its origin might be derived from the use of salt in many folkloric traditions as a protection or to purify, mixed a bit with a concept similar to the "witches' bottle", but I digress.

Disclaimer again: I wrote most of this during work time and edited it afterwards so I can't guarantee the form and grammar used.

I first made black salt after a couple of quick searches for protection and banishing spells that could help me in my practice, as I first started I was a bit of an idiot (to quote Set) and didn't keep anything to protect myself around when doing divination and other things.

With time I noticed that it's a good all-around protection and also, with a couple of tweaks, could be perfect to also banish in a "bounce back to sender" way.

There are different recipes on the Internet and among witchy communities but they mostly differ for some ingredients added (or not added) and I believe all would work… but surely, IMHO, if you tailor them to your needs it would be more effective.

This is what I made for myself, and I'll also include the "return to sender" version.

Tools you’ll need:

a jar with a lid to store it

mortar & pestle (not mandatory: I don’t have one so I use a tiny ceramic casserole and one of those wooden pestles for cocktails bc that’s what I had at home… use whatever could do the job)

a candle in the colour you associate with protection and warding

Ingredients:

salt (duh-)

ashes (either incense ashes, firepit ashes/charcoal, soot or you could also use activated charcoal)

eggshells powder

black pepper

rosemary

bay leaves

sage (kitchen kind is perfect!)

whatever herb you associate with protection

Process:

Honestly, you should do this however it feels right for you. You could cast a circle, call the elements or whatever. I don’t do that because it’s not part of my practice. You don’t even need to cleanse or anything if you don’t feel it’s necessary: it’ll work anyway.

Light the candle (ofc if you think it’s needed) and put the ingredients in the mortar, a little bit at a time, to grind them a bit and most importantly mix all of them. Focus on your intention, if you feel you need to recite something to enchant it then do it. Mix all the ingredients, I usually start with salt, add eggshell powder, all the other ingredients and then another bit of salt at the end to “close” everything.

If you want to give it a little “boost” you could write on a bay leaf “I am protected” or the like and then burn it (do it in a fireproof container! bay leaves are nasty burners and like to pop a lot!) to “activate” it and mix it to the rest of the ingredients.

When everything is all mixed, then you can pour it into the jar and close it. It’s up to you if you want to seal the lid with some wax or not. I do not do it because if I decide to redo it I can open it and clean the jar more easily before preparing the new black salt.

Again, it’s up to you if you want to charge it under the moonlight/sunlight or in some other way: do what you feel that's right to do.

And that’s it! Congrats you made black salt that will protect your space!

For the return-to-sender version:

add more pepper

slap also some paprika or better some chilli pepper powder

also put there some garlic

you can add other ingredients you associate with banishing

add a bay leaf (or also a piece of paper) with the intention written on it like “the harm/malicious intent is returned to who cast it” or whatever you feel right

complete!