#its weird as fuck and i better not keep seeing people breeze over this anymore

[straylaughs]

and fuck you div1/jype for using that stupid ass nickname when he wasn't even there!!

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁

Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.

Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.

Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut

"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.

"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.

"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"

"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.

"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.

I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.

Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.

"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."

Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."

"I'm sure." I had heard that before.

"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."

"Do you really want to bet?"

"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."

"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.

"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.

"You were in the military, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.

"Well, California. You up for it?"

"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"

"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."

"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."

"How about bragging rights?"

"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.

"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."

"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."

"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.

Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.

"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.

I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.

"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.

"You bake also?"

"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."

"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.

"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."

Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.

When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.

The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.

Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.

"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"

"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."

"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.

"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"

"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."

"Did you do anything different?"

"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."

"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.

"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."

[sinswithpleasure]

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 2] [Female Reader]

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

Hello! I'm back with part 2!

Futa!Yves x Fem Reader, just in case ya forgot.

If you prefer, this is also on AO3 and AFF!

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

Yves shows up on time for tutoring, to your surprise.

"Hey baby."

"Don't 'baby' me."

"Sure. Let's start."

"Alright. Open up the textbook. We're starting from the basics. I've printed out some of the prerequisites for this topic, since what you did last time wasn't up to standard due to lack of practice of the basics. Now…"

Yves listens attentively. In fact, things go a bit too smoothly for the both of you. Yves doesn't make any cheeky quip, pull out any pet names, or flirt with anyone that passes by. The womanizing playgirl you knew disappears, and in its place is a focused, dedicated young woman. Sometimes, you even find yourself staring at her work on the problems in front of her. The change is… welcome, to say the least.

Your eyes roam Yves's styled hair, swiped back to expose her forehead, down to her beautiful large eyes, button nose, and full lips.

God, you're gay. Sure, you're literally admiring the beauty of the most insufferable bane of the universe, but you're just so fucking gay and hot people are hot, no matter how irritating they are, so...

When your eyes shift back up, you're met with Yves's smirk.

"See something you like, babe?"

Fuck.

"N-no."

"Liar."

"Fuck off." You rush to change the subject. "How're you doing?"

"I've been done for a while. You would know if you weren't spending the time looking at me."

You refuse to dignify her with a response, checking through the solved problems. With your coaching, Yves manages to get two more questions correct as compared to last time, but she still makes some simple mistakes.

"Okay, here's the issue. In question two…"

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

Yves continues to show up for every tutoring session. Somehow, a week passes by, and it is now Friday.

"Good afternoon, babygirl."

"Don't 'babygirl' me. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Mm, whatever. How're you doing?"

"Why do you care?"

Yves pulls out the chair next to you, leaning back on it, resting her legs on the table. She turns to you, grinning.

"Of course I'd care! You're my tutor, and if you don't feel good, you won't be able to teach me properly. If I don't get taught, I won't learn, then I'll fail, and I don't get to win. You know that I always win."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"That's what you say, but not what you mean."

"Fuck you."

"That's what you'll be doing in five months' time."

"No I won't. Bring out the Calc textbook. We're going through Chapter 4 today."

"Alright, babygirl."

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

The change in Yves becomes apparent when she somehow is present earlier than you on Monday morning.

"Yves?"

"Oh, hey babe."

You sigh at the pet name, but having heard her call you that for quite some time now, it doesn't grind your gears as much anymore.

"Don't 'babe' me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Yves returns her attention to the papers she is working on, and the familiar math problems catch your eye.

"Calc?"

"Yeah. I promised I'll be the best student. Here I am."

"We'll see about that."

"You're looking at it right now." Yves rises from her chair, and in a flash, she has her arm around your waist, her face inches from yours. "I'm going to win, babygirl."

"G-Get off me!" Your face reddens instantly at the close proximity of your lips to hers. Memories of the chaste kiss Yves planted take front and center stage, and you can't help but look away from Yves.

"You're so pretty."

Yves has her gaze locked on your lips, then to your eyes. She is so close, too close, even. Heat flashes all over your body—every touch Yves leaves on you seems to burn.

"I mean it. You're gorgeous."

"T-Thank you."

The smug smirk never leaves Yves's face. She releases you from her smoldering gaze and grip, but she leaves you with a rapidly beating heart and a large distraction for the day to come.

When class begins, Yves tries to take the time to listen to the professor. However, she is soon back to her old ways, flicking paper balls at classmates and being on her phone more than she listens.

"Yves."

"Yeah, baby?" She meets your gaze, her tongue darting out to moisten her dry lips. Her hands carry on working on moulding another tiny paper ball.

"You're not listening."

"I am!"

"What was the last thing the prof said?"

"Um…"

You roll your eyes.

"Best student, my ass."

"I made that promise to you, not to him."

"You won't learn if you don't listen to him either. How're you going to be the best if you can't even do that?"

"Oh, so that's how it is?"

"That's right." You think hard about the words you want to say next, but maybe… maybe it is worth the risk. After all, Yves is still the bane of your existence, but she could be less of that if she keeps up her effort in trying to learn.

"You don't get to fuck me if you're not the best."

You watch as Yves freezes. She stares at you, her jaw hanging, before she steels her gaze to your eyes, staring deep into your soul.

"So this is how you wanna play, babygirl?"

"Yeah." You can feel your bravado slowly disappearing.

"Fine. I'll listen. I'll play by your rules."

Yves leans to your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. Her deep whisper makes you shudder.

"You will be mine at the end of the year, baby. I promise you: I'll ace my exams, and you'll love me for it."

Perhaps provoking your seatmate wasn't the best idea. Now you have to deal with the deep flush on your face and neck, as well as the heat between your legs.

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

A month passes.

Every week, the same things go by—tutoring, classes, more tutoring, more classes. However, what changes is how close you and Yves get with each other. By no means were the both of you friends, but she isn't as much of a thorn in your side anymore.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Baby

I need a bit more help with the math from the last chapter.

Can I see you this weekend?

Saturday, 10am, Seoul U entrance?

[You sent a message:]

Sure.

I'll see you.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Good.

Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.

[You sent a message:]

Fuck off.

You groan when Yves manages to charm you through text. Outfit ideas are already flowing through your head, and you sink your face into the comfort of your palms. Why do you even care about looking pretty for Yves?⁶

Well… that genuine grin she flashed after a muffled gasp of surprise when you wore a dress once in the past month was gorgeous on her. That was why.

You remember Yves actually having the slightest hint of a blush when looking at you, and she seemed to be a little less flirty that day, opting to take short glances at you when she thought you weren't watching. This newfound attention was… welcome. You couldn't deny feeling shy having Yves check you out. After all, you were just the nerd girl in class, and having this attention from a hot girl you could consider a crush not as much of a pain in your ass felt so good.

-----

Saturday arrives, and here you are, waiting outside Seoul University.

You choose to keep things simple: just a simple button-down dress with daisies printed on the fabric. Your hair is tied up in a cute bun. The pink backpack you carry completes the look, with a nice pair of flats.

The sun isn't too bright, and a cool breeze keeps you comfortable while waiting. You can't help but get nervous, though you know it is irrational to feel so. After all, this is just another study session. However, Yves's text to you earlier in the week keeps flashing across your eyes.

'Dress nicely, baby. It's a date.'

You know this is just a study session. However, a part of you dimly wishes that it isn't, before you hurriedly bash those thoughts with a hammer and then set them on fire.

The revving of a motorbike catches your attention before it zooms down the road. You can see the bike move across the lanes, then slowing to a stop in front of you. The rider, clad in all black leather, complete with jacket and boots, seems to freeze in front of you, before slowly drawing the helmet off their head.

"Hey, babygirl."

Yves grins at you, her eyes sweeping over your body. Her gaze lands on your legs, moving up to your torso, your chest, and then to your eyes and hair.

The next words she mutters are meant to be kept to herself, but you hear her anyway.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Your heart takes off, pounding against your chest. You try to hide the flush on your face by staring at the ground, but you field a gaze to Yves, who looks a bit like a deer caught in headlights. She looks so handsome, so cool, and downright fucking hot at the same time.

Hmm… What would it feel like being pinned under her again?

The intrusive thought you have gets stamped out instantly, but the effect lingers—you can't help but check Yves out, feeling a rush of heat deep within your loins.

Her agreement with you was starting to look more and more appealing. Maybe you do have to teach her well.

"Get on."

"What?"

"Let's go. I gotta park the bike, and the cafe isn't close by. Get on."

Yves hands you a spare black helmet, and you hesitantly take it.

"Don't kill me."

"I won't." She grins. "I like you too much to think about doing that."

Your breath catches in your throat. It's not uncharacteristic of her to say things like that so easily, but maybe… just maybe… you want her to mean it.

You get onto the bike as Yves holds it steady. You don't know where to put your hands, but Yves grabs your arms, pulling them to wrap around her waist.

"Hold on tight, babygirl."

"Okay." You can't believe what's happening right now.

"I'm gonna go."

The engine revs.

-----

Yves trails behind you as both of you make your way to the cafe. Yves is quiet along the way, unlike her usual flirting if she caught you staring at her. When you glance back to her, you see her eyes dart away from you, staring at the floor as she swipes her hair back.

Weird.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Never been better, baby." Her reply is unconvincing, especially with a forced grin, but you don't want to really push her for a reply.

"Er… Okay. Sure."

Both of you make your way into the cafe, stopping by the counter to grab the menu. When you sit down at a table, Yves sits across you, her eyes locked onto you as you peruse your options.

"You're staring a lot today, Yves."

"Oh, um, er…" She looks away, her voice soft. This is very unlike her.

"Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm feelin' great, ready to learn, and get good." She leans back, resting her hands on the armrests of her chair.

Oh.

She has a crop top on.

Oh my fucking God, she has abs.

You short circuit.

Two columns of defined muscle greet your eyes, as if to mock you. It wasn't like she was someone you didn't find hot. Now, you have to find out that she also has abs?!

Your mouth dries instantly, and you grab your bottle, taking a swig. The cool liquid quenches your physical thirst, but your mental thirst…

"Don't look too much, babygirl. You might get hypnotized."

Yves tilts your chin up with a finger, moving to lean close to your face.

"My eyes are up here."

Holy fucking shit, she's so fucking hot.

You wonder how you didn't notice them when she had that fishnet and crop top combo. Maybe her pants covered them, maybe you were blinded in your dislike for her. Whatever, you've seen them now. No reason to stop… respectfully staring, especially when you can.

"Look at me."

You meet Yves's smoldering gaze.

"Keep your eyes up here, babygirl." Her warm breath against your lips makes you yearn to lean in and close the gap. "I don't want them anywhere else when they're so beautiful."

You whimper involuntarily, and Yves chuckles.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?"

The shame that burns when you squeak and break your gaze to hide in the pretense of reading the menu is something you don't want to admit that you feel coursing through your veins, but it's there. When you lower the menu, Yves has her chin in her palm, her head tilted to the left, a satisfied grin on her features.

"I mean it, baby. You look really pretty today."

"T-Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let's order, I'm starving."

"Okay."

"Oh." Yves leans towards you, lowering the menu to stare into your eyes once more. "You'll get to see what you want to see when I ace the exams. Be patient, babe."

You groan.

-----

That night, you toss and turn on the bed incessantly. Every time you close your eyes, you can feel hot breath across your lips, smell the scent emanating off Yves, and sense her burning gaze on you. Yves's handsome features are burnt deep into your head, and just the thought of her sends your heart pounding and temperature rising.

You think of her abs under her clothes, the defined muscle jumping out to your eyes. She already looks so good, so delicious, and yet, things only go up from here.

The rush of heat between your legs doesn't help things.

You turn again, ignoring your basest desires. Bedtime it is.

[no-droids]

Promise Me (It’s Yours)

Part Eleven of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10K

Warnings: OMFG might be the first chapter of rough day to not need any warnings, can you believe it?? I mean of course there’s language, a splash of smut, and just the briefest reference to suicide, but pretty PG-13 this time my guys I apologize

A/N: I’m sorry I know people show up for the smut but I was feeling soft in this Taco Bell parking lot so here this is, I hope y’all like it.  I guarantee none of the math is correct but please go with it

***

You jerk awake to the sound of whimpers.

It’s late.  The bonfire is nothing more than glowing coals, and your back is resting against a scratchy log instead of a long, comfortable chest.  You blink rapidly, trying to figure out where that noise is comi—

The kid.  Fussy in his crib, his gasps starting to turn into quiet sobs.

“Hey,” you murmur, aiming for soft and comforting, but the sleep sits right in the middle of your vocal cords and splits your voice in half, making you sound like an exhausted demon.  Weirdly enough, it seems to chill him out (did a demon actually teach him how to choke people without touching them?) and you sit up to blearily look around.  Where’s Din?  “Where’s—” you rub your eyes and squint around once more, “—where’d your dad go, bug?”

The clearing is bare.  The field is, too—no path, excluding the one you three made on the hike here.  Nothing in the distant forest, and the black duffel bag sits somewhere near your feet.

Alright, no worries, maybe he just… went to take a leak or something.  Really… oddly far away.  That’s fine.  Sometimes humans have to do that—maybe he has a.  A shy bladder.  Or something.  You’re totally fine.  The kid blinks back at you through equally tired eyes, his head tilting as he seems to be taking cues from you right now in the absence of his father.  You both should just try to go back to sleep…

Or you can wait up for him.  That sounds like a better plan.  Don’t panic, just trust him.  Give him the benefit of the doubt, it’s the least you can do.

You take a second to look around again, still coming up empty.  It’s dark out, but the moon is suspended high in the sky.  The fire doesn’t even give off much light anymore, just dying embers.  Your eyes scan the ground again, catching on the black bag at your feet.

Was that there when you went to sleep?  No, the last person who had it was Din, and he was sitting over there, in front of the boulder behind the kid’s shield.

You blink down at the stationary bag for a few more seconds, studying it like it’ll spill all of its secrets if you glare hard enough, but then something sparks in your memory.  Something odd, something you only noticed for a second last night.  There was a red light that reflected off Din’s helmet when he reached into the bag for food earlier, wasn’t there?

You think back on it, try to isolate the hazy memory.  If it was a laser sight, you would’ve recognized the bright beam and panicked, but you didn’t.  It was unfocused, dim.  Flashing.

Had… had Din brought a tracking fob with him from the Crest?  But why?

Maker, it’s like your mind knows it should speed up but it’s still too stupid to actually do it.  You should… you should check the bag, right?  Just in case… you don’t know.  You’re being ridiculous.

You reach out to catch the dark bag nonetheless and then unzip it, rifling through it for a particular item you figure should be in here somewhere.  Food, food, more food…

Somewhere…

—It’s not here.  No tracking fob here.  No red light to be seen of.

Had you been imagining it?

No, you determine after a second.  No, because you remember thinking it was odd—you specifically noticed it, clearly recognized it but didn’t contemplate too much into it at the time.

Alright, no worries, maybe he… maybe he went on a quick little hunt while you were both sleeping.  He must’ve gone back to the ship to grab his armor and guns and then set off.  That’s fine, there’s more food in the bag.  He said he’d be here when you woke up, which most likely means morning.  Right?

Cool.  Cool cool cool, you can wait until morning.  You can just settle back down against the log right here and find a comfortable position—there we go—and just wait for the sunrise, wait for the inevitable return of your missing party member.  Party leader, arguably.  He’ll come back, he always does.

Your body begins to relax, even though something still seems… strange about this.  Like there’s something important you’re still missing.

… The field is bare.

You instantly sit up and turn back to study it in the moonlight, study the single path you left on your way here.  You remember hiking at least… a grand total of two hours to get here from the Crest, maybe?  Granted, you took quite the detour, but that just means he would’ve carved a distinct, new path on his way back—

Would he… would he really go on a hunt without going back to the ship first?  Would Mando truly venture out—without telling you—to go collect a quarry without any weapon on him whatsoever?  Any piece of armor besides a helmet?

Does that seem right to you?

Fuck, you suddenly feel wide awake, and the baby starts gasping out troubled cries again.  You push yourself up to your feet and stumble around the dying flames to go comfort him, dropping to your knees next to the reflective sphere.  Your head stays on a constant swivel as you quiet him, brushing the pad of your thumb along his wrinkled forehead and shushing him as you keep looking out at the breezy field of grass, trying to see if you missed anything.  

Fuck, maybe you’re just overreacting.  What direction is the ship?  Which way did you…?  You think back, trying to piece together limited information of what you can remember about today.  Glancing back down at the log you slept on and then the path leading away from the clearing, rapidfire calculations start going off in your head.  No, you realize after a second of frantic thought—no, the sun would’ve—if you walked…

Eventually, you’re able to pinpoint a general idea of where the ship should be, and if you’re right, then he definitely would’ve left a new path to get back to it.  You don’t like this.  It’s out of character for him.  It sits too weird with you, and the kid rarely starts crying unless something is bothering him.

Alright, alright, don’t panic.  Din is a professional.  He must’ve left on purpose—you would’ve woken up if there was any sort of struggle, or even just an exchange.  Odds are, he grabbed the tracking fob and just… went to go get the quarry.  

Without waking you.  Without telling you.  Without bringing anything else with him.  No armor.  No guns.  Just the fob.

Some strange sense of dread begins to fill you, one that feels all the worse when there’s no clear explanation for it.  You won’t pretend like you’re an expert, but to a Mandalorian, that seems like it could be considered suicidal, wouldn’t it?  What reason would he have to do this?

The field continues to wave, undisturbed, in all surrounding directions except one.  You look over at the clearing leading to the dark forest, the treetops too thick to let anything but traces of crystal moonlight through.  If he left… he’ll have gone that way.  The only direction that wouldn’t leave a path.

Okay.  So there's a decision that needs to be made.  You can either stay here, in the middle of this wide open field until the sun comes up, and hopefully he comes back by then.  Or… you could.  Go check if something went wrong.

The forest is gorgeous from here, you can see that.  Thick treetops, drifting gently in the breeze, steady and quiet and picturesque.  Admittedly, you can also see a haunting, looming nightmare of darkness warning you to stay away from whatever it’s hiding.  This is an unfamiliar planet.  You know it’s safe, this is the most isolated sector and Din said practically no crime happens here, but.  He also said he’d be here when you woke up.

Hang on, wait.  Something catches in your peripheral.  There—right on the other side of the kid’s crib, you see—

A glove.

… He left the glove.  Whether on purpose or by accident, Din left his glove.  The one connected to the vambrace, the one that houses all his controls.  

The one that houses the comm link.

The piece of armor is already in your trembling fingers before you realize you even went to grab it.  Anxiety, stress, dread—you don’t know which weighs on you heavier while you slowly rotate it in your hands, trying to understand what’s happening right now.  He left his emergency communicator.  The only chance you have at contacting him unless he decides to come back.

Panic suddenly constricts in your chest, and you make your decision blindly.  The kid continues to squeak out little whimpers as your arm sinks down into the leather and you pull the gauntlet up almost to your elbow, flexing your fingers inside the fabric and feeling your heart beating in your throat.  The controls are fairly basic, it doesn’t take much time to figure out which button he synced with the hovering sphere, which command he uses to lock the two locations together.

“Chill out, kiddo,” you whisper, doing your best to calm your own raging uncertainty.  Conviction is key, you think.  You made your decision.  Not wanting to waste any more time in case something went awry, you sling the bag over your shoulder and set off in the direction of the trees, feeling… woefully underprepared for whatever may potentially face you.

The forest is quiet as you finally make your way past the first few trees marking its beginning, or end, and you need a second to blink and adjust your vision.  It’s dark—if you thought it was dark when you awoke, it’s nothing compared to this.  The treetops are thick and barely allow any moonlight to pass through their dense leaves whatsoever, just bits and pieces scattered here or there.  There’s no path, no trail, just nature.  Fallen logs, moss, rock and boulder formations you have to avoid.

You shush your agitated ward again, wanting to control yourself because you’re getting the kid worked up into baby battle mode with no visible threats to see.  He reads energies—he’s capable when he wants to be, when he deems the situation fit.  Right now he’s quieted somewhat but he’s still on high alert, recycling your inner panic outwards until you feel the air shifting around you, an… unexplainable phenomena you can’t even describe properly.

Well, you figure.  If anything, he’s far more dangerous than any weapon Din typically carries with him.  You tend to forget, most of the time.  He’s never hurt you, no matter how boisterous the tantrums sometimes are, and you find yourself very rarely thinking of him as anything other than an innocent, helpless baby you’re tasked with protecting.  Though it appears that most of the time, he’s been the one protecting you.

What are you saying?  There’s no need for protection right now, you’re simply searching for your absent ally.  You’re not being brave—no matter how quickly your heart is beating or how much your hands are sweating, you’re not being brave because bravery implies facing something you fear.  You have nothing to fear, it’s nothing more than an abandoned forest.  A backdrop for your endeavor.

Though… though now that you think about it, this setting looks eerily similar to one you’ll have seared into your memory forever.  The forest on Corellia.

You will the thought away with a frantic shake of your head.  Naboo is safe, Naboo is safe—it’s not like Corellia.  It’s not crawling with people desperate for food and credits, desperate enough to resort to kidnapping and slave trade.  Naboo will economically prosper no matter what threat befalls the galaxy, its industry comes from tourism and resorting.

You stop for a second, needing a breather.  Just for a second.  You haven’t been walking more than fifteen minutes but the terrain makes your feet hurt.  Sure, there are clearings between trees and the ground isn’t complete overflowing with obstacles, but they’re still present.  The scattered rocks dig in under your shoes and some of the bushes you pass by have sharp leaves or thorns—but it’s the sprawling root systems that prove to be the worst.  They crawl across the ground like they can’t decide whether they want to be part of it or not, and more than once you stub your toe on a hidden tube arching a few inches out of the mossy soil.

A part of you almost has to remind yourself that you’re here because you’re looking for somebody, rather than being trapped here trying to evade something.  The adrenaline and fear are starting to get the best of you, make you too antsy, warp your senses.  You’re deep in the forest now, but not enough to feel the wind disappear yet—you can still hear it rattling around above you, leaves slapping against each other, branches creaking as they tower over you.  You almost wish it were quiet.  You don’t feel comforted by the breeze anymore, it doesn’t feel like an ever present reassurance as much as it does a burden that masks the noises you could otherwise be hearing.  The snapping of twigs that could potentially be there.  The crunching of leaves under feet that aren’t your own.

So.  You should probably admit now that this was actually a horrendous idea.  Because you’re fucking stupid for not realizing this earlier, but.  Din ventured into this hellscape to find a quarry, did he not?

A… wanted criminal.

Shit.  What the fuck.  That’s a hell of a fucking thing to register this late, isn’t it?

You can turn around, you figure.  You can turn around right now and head back to the campsite—actually, that sounds like a great idea.  You should do that.

You spin around and begin retracing your steps… which, you figure out about five minutes later, is an impossible feat.  None of your surroundings look familiar—or shit, maybe it all looks familiar.  Like… trees.  And fucking rocks.  Trying to distinguish landmarks is almost impossible now, and there’s no way to tell which direction you’re going with no visibility overhead, no celestial body to guide you.

You don’t immediately panic, not until you (quite literally) stumble upon a small stream of water flowing through some stones under your feet.

Well, okay.  That’s not good.  Okay, well, no, you suppose that could be good.  It’s water—it’s a landmark, sure, the tiniest little landmark you've ever seen, but that’s exactly the problem.  You’ve never seen it before.  Which means you’re most definitely not going in the right direction.

At this point, the only option you have is to turn around again.  Maybe you can unintentionally make the same series of stupid mistakes once more to start you right at the beginning.  The kid is still glancing around in his cradle, making sure no harm comes to your useless ass, but then you freeze when you begin to hear something in the distance.  

It’s an unfamiliar sound—a deafening one, even from this far away.  Long and echoing, a giant chorus of… something.  Something you’ve never heard before, something you can’t place.

Your heart is thundering as you walk closer to the source of it, moving slowly and cautiously forwards and having no clue what it could possibly be.  It doesn’t seem to amplify much as you travel closer, which means it must be a ways away still.  It’s terrifying nonetheless—the anticipation, how sweaty your hands are, the way you’re very aware of the muscles in your stomach for some reason.

The baby coos softly at your side, but the suddenness of the gentle noise nearly makes you jump out of your skin.  You gasp and look down at him for the first time in what feels like ages, clutching at your chest, but then—

—then footsteps rush you from behind and something grabs at your shirt.

You react completely on instinct, your body nearly throbbing with adrenaline as you whip around and launch a mean jab aimed at the dark silhouette behind you.  It slams directly into his solar plexus hard enough to bend him in half and ripple through your whole arm with the blowback.  Your other fist pulls back and instantly goes for him again, but he just barely manages to jerk his arm up and block it in time—

And thank the Maker he does.  Because you were just an inch shy from colliding your knuckles against the side of his head in your wild stage of panic.  The one currently covered in devastatingly strong, shiny metal, the helmet just barely visible in the dark forest.

It’s like it doesn’t even register with you—you’re already going to hit him again when Din’s hand hooks around your arm and he yanks you forwards.  Your body slams into his and then he’s wrapping himself around you and holding suffocatingly tight.  Everything inside you still wants to struggle against him, gasping into his shoulder as your heart continues to gallop with terror no matter what your logic tells you.  But he holds harder than steel and the sound of his voice eventually returns to you after a moment, repeating harsh words at you through a familiar vocal filter.

“—me, it’s me, it’s me, I’m right here, stop it, stop it, stop—”

You blink desperately against black fabric, letting the familiar scent, touch, and embrace bring you back down again.  He’s so solid—has such a strong hold on you, absolutely no give to be found, and the devastatingly tight embrace manages to quickly settle you.

But he doesn’t wait long.  As soon as you stop fighting him, he releases you in favor of grabbing your shoulders and shoving you out at arm’s length, frantically jerking the helmet up and down your body and twisting you back and forth while he looks.  Your arms dangle with the inspection and you readily let him move you around like a rag doll, not having enough sense to register anything beyond safe.  You’re safe.  Everything seems to exist in a box right now, far away and yet compact at the same time.  The visor snaps back up to your face and you blink dazedly up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately tell him, voice pitched high and awkward, “woah, hah—whew, ahah—I’m sorry, I-I’m just—“

His fingers hook at your chin and he pulls it up, tilting your head back and forth, allowing the small patch of moonlight beaming through the treetops to catch the water in your eyes.  It glints in shameless betrayal, and you try unsuccessfully to blink it away despite the damage already being done.  Din drops his arm and you lower your chin without the platform propping it up.

“You just—you just—” you gasp out, delayed relief suddenly filling you and making your voice wobble dangerously, “—y-you went on a hunt but you left your armor.  You left your guns, you left everything.  I didn’t know—what could’ve happened, I—why’d you do that?  W-Why—why didn’t you t-tell m—”

He wraps his hand behind your head and pulls you into his chest once more, not saying a single word.  This hug is just as tight as before, just in a different way.  He still uses it as a way to calm you and it still squeezes the air from your body, but this one doesn’t feel like it’s entirely for your benefit anymore.

It takes you a few more seconds to realize his hands are trembling.

You go to pull back, but he tightens, anchoring you to him.  “What’s—” you gasp against the fabric covering his shoulder, “—what’s wrong?  Are you okay?  Where’s the quarry?  What’s—what’s making that sound?  Are we safe?”

Din takes slow, shallow breaths, and you hear it almost too well with your ear shoved against his body.  Little by little, he loosens his grip on you.  Both of you are still panting by the time you’re able to wrench back and look up at him.

Bare, shaky hands push your hair back away from your face, eventually coming to rest framing both of your cheeks.  They’re warm and strong where his fingers wrap around the bend of your jaw, securing you in place, and when he speaks, he sounds like he’s been through hell and back.

“Don’t ever,” Din whispers brokenly, tugging a little bit to make sure you’re listening.  “Don’t ever—ever run away from me like that.  Ever again.  Understand?”

You stare up at him, wide-eyed and dumb, unmoving.  Is that what he thinks?  That you were trying to… to run away from him?

“I—I wasn’t running,” you immediately stutter out, blinking rapidly at him and trying not to let the confusion show on your face.  “I’d never run—I-I told you I wouldn’t—” 

“I came back and you were gone,” he breathes, his quivering thumbs brushing along the height of your cheekbones.  “I—my kid, he was gone, everything was gone, I-I…”  The helmet shakes back and forth the slightest bit, and then he drops his grip to clamp down on your shoulders, clearing the fragile turmoil from his throat and hardening his tone.  “Listen, you can’t do that—you can’t take my kid and just… just disappear like that, please, promise me you won’t do that agai—”

“You disappeared,” you accuse with a whisper, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear you.

“Promise me,” he urges, shaking you enough to make your head bobble just slightly, and the quiet plead of his voice through the modulator compels you to acquiesce without a second thought.

“I promise I won’t disappear,” you vow to him, unwavering and earnest.  “Now promise you won’t, either.”

Din stares at you for a moment, his body tense and completely stationary.  He’s still breathing heavy though, his chest rising and falling hard enough for you to count.  One, two, three…   Seven.  Seven whole breaths, before he finally responds.

“I promise,” he eventually declares, before taking a step forward and crowding you, pulling your shoulders in and slowly tilting his helmet down until it rests against your forehead.  The cool metal feels like ice on your burning skin—but you ignore it and allow him to get as close as he can possibly be, to hold you tight and keep you there.  “I promise,” he goes on, “that if you ever—that if something ever happens to you two, and you just… just vanish on me like that again—then I’d—I’d…”

And then his next words steal the air from your lungs, wipe your head clear of any thoughts whatsoever—the hushed, vehement sincerity in his voice.  Yet… calm.  Certain, composed, and with purpose.  Almost as if he could only get you to understand one thing, then he would want it to be this.

“Then I’d tear this whole galaxy apart to find you,” he tells you quietly, tightening his hands on your arms and swearing an oath to you.  “Both.  Both of you.  I’d—I’d never stop.  I’d rain hell.  Tell me you understand.”

“I… I understand,” you finally murmur, and Din quickly pulls you to his chest and wraps himself around you once more without another word.  His fingers tangle in your hair and encourage you to rest your face in the crook of his neck, so you do.  Even though his helmet jabs uncomfortably at your cheek like this, you do your best to just settle down and breathe him in, bring your hands up to rub at his back and wait for his heart rate to slow.

Eventually it does.  It seems like it takes ages, but eventually he's able to unwind his large stature from around you, letting you have a bit more of your own space.  He doesn’t take his hands off you, though—his palm drags down your elbow and catches your bare hand in his, gently tugging.

“Let’s go,” he says quietly, beginning to lead you… somewhere.  Probably out of the forest and back to the ship, but you don’t question it and completely forget about the low rumbling still echoing in the distance.  You follow directly behind him and away from the mysterious sound, the fingers of your right hand still laced with his left, knowing there are far more important questions to be asked.

“Din,” you whisper, but he doesn’t need anymore prompting.

“I thought I’d be quick enough,” he admits, pulling you along by your hand.  “It’s barely been a couple hours.”

You stay silent and focus on your feet, letting him go at his own pace.  More than once he plays bodyguard, standing in front of wickedly sharp branches while you and the kid pass, and there’s never anything said beyond a quiet ‘thank you’ every time he does it.

“I’ve…” he says after a while.  “I’ve been doing this job for awhile.  And there are things… things you learn.  Quick.  Ways to predict people, ways to get in their heads.  Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.  Watch your feet.”

You blink and stumble over a hidden root nonetheless, trying to keep up both physically and mentally.  Din tightens his grip and catches you by your elbow.

“This one was like you,” he goes on, pulling you up and leading you forward once more.  “Wasn’t trying to run.  Just wanted to spend his last few months hiding out on the most beautiful place in the galaxy before he got caught.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?  Why’d you go in the middle of the night?”  You whisper, not upset anymore.  Just trying to understand.  “You couldn’t have waited until morning?”  But Din just shrugs.

“I didn’t want to remind you.”  His sentence is short and stunted, yet serves to answer all three of your questions without providing any information beyond that, the unspoken sentiment barreling forth and smashing into you full force.  He didn’t want to remind you.  He wanted to leave while you were asleep and then return before you woke up, never letting you remember that responsibilities exist beyond this gorgeous planet for the time being.

You’re a bit shocked, to be honest.  In hindsight, though, you suppose it makes sense.  Din was the one who navigated to this sector, kept the bag out of your reach the whole day.  If the kid had decided to wake up just an hour or two later, he would’ve been back by then, and you would’ve never known any different.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, and a wave tiredness suddenly grips you.  Fuck.  Too much thinking.  “The quarry went willingly, they always do when their last wish is to chase down a pretty landscape.  Nice guy.  Found him camped out by a giant—”

Din suddenly goes oddly quiet, and you’re too exhausted to push it.  You’re starting to drag a little bit.  You woke up in blind panic and have been on edge ever since, and now that you know things are okay, your body just wants more sleep.  The trees blur as you keep moving forward, zoning out and knowing you likely have another few miles of walking before you’re back.

You almost trip over him.  You don’t even notice he’s there until you nearly run into him.  In your defense, the only visible part of him is his helmet; the clothing is too dark under the thick treetops to see anything else.  Still, it takes you a second, and you blink down at Din’s crouched figure in front of you, blocking your intended path.

“Up,” he turns to mutter over his shoulder when you ultimately fail to comprehend.

…There’s no way.

Hesitantly, you lift one of your knees to his side and feel his arm firmly hook under it.  Emboldened, you lean down until your forearm can wrap around the front of him, and then you do a stupid little bunny hop along the curve of his spine.  Din easily catches your other leg before rising up.

He bounces you higher on his back once he’s upright, and you’re automatically resting your chin on his shoulder and clinging to him, your heart filling with butterflies as he begins trudging forward.

It’s… oddly comfortable.  As long as you keep your arms wrapped tight around his chest, you can bury your face into him and drift in and out.  He goes out of his way to keep you as level as you can possibly be, trying to soften his steps so your jaw doesn’t bounce on top of him while he steps over fallen logs and ducks to avoid low hanging leaves.

Later—you’re not sure how long it’s been, his voice comes through the modulator, ringing with your ear pressed against the helmet no matter how quiet he tries to be.  

“How’d you know I went on a hunt?”  He asks, and there’s a soft reservation in his tone, as if he doesn’t really want to speak but needs to ask you anyways.

“Mmm?”  You slur into the fabric stretching over his shoulder, probably drooling on it a bit, too.  “Hmm?”

His voice increases marginally in volume, but still maintains a gentle undertone that lulls you into relaxing deeper.  “You knew I left to look for the quarry—how?”

“Fob,” you tell him tiredly, not having much energy to spare the words.  “Wasn’t in the bag.”

You’re too out of it at this point, it takes a moment to realize Din has abruptly slowed down.  “How’d you know there was a tracking—”

“You’re… reflective?”  You ask, though you don’t really know why you’re asking.  “S’to your detriment.  Sometimes.”

That seems to stun him somewhat, halting him in place for the time being.  The biggest response it gets from you is the tiniest little eyebrow twitch inwards, wondering why the steady movements of your transportation seems to have temporarily stalled.  “How’d you know I left my armor?”

“Hmm?”  You ask again, not really hearing him.

“Hey, stay awake for a second,” he bounces you and you groggily mutter something under your breath that even you can’t comprehend.  Din glosses over it while you blink your eyes open.  “Tell me how you knew.  You didn’t go back to the Crest.”

You drag your head off his shoulder and squint around, looking around at the edge of the forest and the flowing grass beyond and trying to think with your stupid, tired brain, really needing to focus on the question.  “…No?”

The curiosity in his voice can’t be masked, not by him nor the filter through which it’s processed.  “So how did you know I left my armor on it?”

“You would’ve left a trail,” you shrug. “The grass is tall.”

“I could’ve just taken the path we made earlier,” he eventually proposes, still completely motionless in the middle of the relatively sparse number of trees leading to it.  “Gone back to the ship exactly the way we came.”

“Y’could’ve,” you admit with a yawn. “But the ship is that way,” you lazily raise your arm and point a good fifty or so degrees to the left, and Din follows his own outstretched gauntlet you’re still sporting around your hand with the visor.

“I’m impressed,” he finally says, shifting you on his back but perfectly content to keep his feet rooted to the spot.  “I didn’t think you had a good sense of direction.  You know where the Crest is on this planet but not when we were on Canto Bight.”

You snort a laugh.  No, no you have no such thing—you got lost as fuck in this forest.  A good sense of direction counts as a solid survival skill, and you’d say you still very much lack most of those.  Besides pulling water out of thin air, you can’t claim to know much of anything at all in that department.

“Mmm.  No, that was just—“ you shake your head.  “Y’know, jus’ some… panicked?  Math?  That’s all.”

“Panicked…” Din repeats slowly, “…math.”

You nod, frustrated that he’s still not moving, clearly waiting for you to explain your rapid, chaotic thought process from earlier.  Still, you do your best for him, trying not to slur your words too much.  “We… walked towards the sun this morning to get to the field.  I remember, because your shiny ass was blinding me the entire time, what must’ve been like.  A whole fucking hour?  At least.  And… and then we walked a little less to get here, forty-five minutes probably, then me ‘n the kid watched the sunset leaning up against that one log, which was at a solid angle—little more than fifty degrees to the right from the path.  You could’ve retraced your steps from earlier if you really wanted to, but taking the shortcut would’ve shaved off about...” you snuggle your face into his shoulder deeper for a moment and think really hard about it.  “Thirty minutes?  Or an hour round trip.  Give or take, since the kid slowed us down.”

He still doesn’t move, and you huff quietly, feeling like you’re on top of a stubborn blurg that just can’t be fucking bothered.  Should you squeeze your legs around his middle?  Will that work?

“You… went on a hunt, sweet girl,” Din finally says, bluntly, after way too long of a pause.  He sounds vaguely impressed for reasons beyond that of your comprehension right now.  “In your own little… panicked way.  How does it feel?”

“Unsuccessful,” you breathe, burying your forehead into his shoulder once more and blinking your eyes shut.  Too much thinking, too much thinking.  You need to sleep.

“You were on the right track,” he hums, bouncing you up and setting off again, and you can’t help yourself.  It’s completely involuntary, tumbles out of your mouth without thought.

“Craziest bounty hunter in the guild,” you slur, and Din doesn’t give you even a shred of the laughs that deserves.

“I should make you walk just for that,” he threatens instead, though he does no such thing.  He just keeps leaning forward in a position that can’t be comfortable for him and lets you fall asleep on his back, holding you tight to his body as he finally breaks out of the last trees and continues hiking through the familiar field to go back home.

***

You rouse twice.  Once, when hands allow your legs to slowly slide down a firm body and settle on solid metal.  He spins around to catch you before you can collapse, and then slowly eases your exhausted body down to the floor.

A bare hand cradles the back of your head until that finally settles down, too.

The second time, you can’t quite be sure of.  One of those moments where you’re barely conscious, drifting to the point where everything around you could be part of your dreamscape, where you can’t trust your own ears or mind to differentiate between what is real and what isn’t.  All you’d need is a single person telling you this didn’t actually happen and you’d accept it without question.

Pacing.  Quiet footsteps moving back and forth across the floor as you sleep, pausing every once in a while to stand in front of your slumbering figure.  Something unintelligible is mumbled as he walks away, the hollow thunk of boots clambering up a ladder.  Engines rumble to life under your ear, and gravity gently pushes you deeper against the flat metal supporting your body.

The footsteps soon return and start to pace around once more.

***

“Hey,” a quiet voice murmurs, your shoulder rocking back and forth slightly.  “Wake up.”

You blink your eyes open to a familiar visor looking down at you, his hand quickly leaving your shoulder and brushing a gloved thumb across your cheekbone when he sees you’re awake.  “Mm?  Din?  Wha’s—” you glance around you at the dark hull of the Razor Crest, before blinking your tired gaze back to him, “—s’going on?  Wha’ time s’it?”

“Late,” he whispers.  “We’re in the air.  I had to wait until the kid was asleep, but I want… I want you to see something.”

“What is it?”  Still blinking blearily, you sit up, but then Din grabs your hands and keeps your momentum going until you’re slowly dragged to your feet.  What you do when you’re standing upright doesn’t really qualify as standing or upright—you just sag against him with exhaustion as he wraps his forearms around your lower back, keeping you pressed tight against him as your ankles drag uselessly against the ground.

“Use your feet,” he reminds you quietly, and you harumph in a grumpy response.  Maker, you want to go back to sleep.  You’re sure you tell him as much, but he just shushes you and encourages you to hold yourself up, letting go while you steady yourself but hovering his palms a few inches away from your arms just in case.  “I want you to put my helmet on.”

“Excuse me?”  You ask him, swaying slightly and rubbing one of your eyes, not feeling amused.  “Is this some kind of… power trip?  Or something?  Because you’ve spent the last few days literally beating me up, I’d assume that would be enough for y—”

“I let you beat me up,” he grumbles under his breath.  “How are you ever gonna take a punch if it hurts you that bad to just throw one, sweet girl?”

“I’ll punch first,” you respond groggily, trying to move forwards so you can lean on him again, but being stopped by a firm grip on your shoulders.

“I know you will,” he mutters, letting go after a second to brush your hair away from your squinty eyes.  “Listen, I want you to put my helmet on, okay?”

You nuzzle your head into his leather palm and hum, giving it some thought.  “Are you gonna… turn on the light thingie?”  You clarify, not being able to remember what the setting is called, and he nods.

“Yes,” he tells you very seriously.  “There’s a… stars, a ‘noise thingie’ that I’ll turn on, too.  You won’t be able to see or hear for a little bit—you’ll have to trust me.”

“Is this for sex?”  You blurt as soon as the thought occurs to you, and Din sighs heavily, letting his head drop to his chest in exasperation.  “Like some sort of a… sensory deprivation thing?  Because if so, I can like—I mean I can get into it.”

“If I say yes, will you put it on?”  He tries, and.  Well, that question shouldn’t wake you up nearly as much as it does.  You blink at him, actually registering the sight of the mirrored visor this time.  Your gaze drops to see he’s back in full beskar regalia, his body looking even larger and broader with it on.

“Oh,” you say quite suddenly, remembering the question.  “Oh.  Shit yeah, I will.”

He shakes his head.  You’re getting better and better at reading him—becoming more fluent in helmet, one could say—and this head shake says he can’t believe he’s actually surprised that worked.  “It’s not for sex,” he tells you immediately, deadpanning the delivery even more than he typically would.  “Will you still put it on?”

You look at him blankly, wondering why this is even happening.  He said you’re in the air right now, and there’s… something he wants you to see?  Whatever this is, it’s spur of the moment.  Something he felt the need to wake you up for, but likely won’t push if you decline.

“Yeah,” you nod, “'course I will.”

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, tipping your chin up slightly in the dim hull so he can watch.  Since they already want to do so regardless of the gentle command, your lids readily dip shut and you wait patiently as his touch leaves you for a moment.

You’re already sagging a bit by the time one of his hands returns to your cheek, and then plush lips press gently to yours.  The sigh you give him is completely involuntary—aching and quiet and longing as you let it go right in his mouth, your expression narrowing with concentration.

But he’s quick.  He leans back before either of you can get lost in it and reminds you with a gorgeous, rumbling baritone, “You’ll have to trust me.”

You nod in confirmation and soon his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head.  This is the second time around he’s done this—and you suppose if you couple that with your still lazy demeanor, the silent darkness that comes along with it doesn’t bother you as much as it did a few months ago.  The padding still grips your cheeks and you still feel disconnected from your surroundings—even more so now than the last time he put it on you—but it’s welcoming, in a way.  Giving you a reason to cling to him and tilt your head with the unfamiliar weight, breathing slow and easy while isolated in your own little pitch black world.

Oh Maker, you could probably fall asleep again just like this, so long as he keeps holding you up.  But Din has other plans, clearly.  He eases you backwards, continues to walk you back and back and back some more, and you have no problem just going with it.  He’s strong, taking almost all of your weight and somehow instinctively knowing how to hold you so that you’re fully supported no matter how you’re positioned.  He shifts you to one arm at one point, does something with his free hand that you can’t really figure out but aren’t really bothered by either.

He guides you both a few more steps backwards, and you start to wonder how long the hull actually is.  But then he suddenly grabs you tight—tight enough to make your eyes pop open to the black void in front of you and panic slightly, before he tilts you back even more and suddenly the ground is dropping out from under your feet, the air rushing silently around your entire body.

Okay, now you full-on panic.

He doesn’t let go, thank the stars, even when you scramble up to straddle and cling to him, heart clanging hard against your sternum at his fucking audacity.  The jet pack?  Are there just no fucking rules anymore?

Sure enough, the thrusters kick in and he’s good enough with the phoenix to counteract the gravity shift as much as possible, making it a gradual thing instead of a rapid change in motion.  You’re almost confident you would’ve slipped out of his grip and gone slamming to the ground had he not done the preventative maneuver.

Regardless, you’re gonna fucking kill him.  You’re going to murder Mando and get your own bounty puck, one with your name on it.  It won’t end well; everyone after you will have a personal vendetta considering you offed one of their own.  If you survive the confrontation then you’ll likely get taken to mine spice somewhere for the rest of your miserable life, probably Kessel—that is, assuming he doesn’t kill you first, within the next however many minutes.

And oh, he seems like he takes his sweet fucking time, hauling your fuming, decapitated ass along on a late night joyride.  Every second he continues to allow you to fly in blind, deaf isolation is another butt whooping you’re vowing to give him, and it pisses you off even more that you can’t even express your righteous fury because you can’t let go of him.  You’re a parasite in midair, clinging to his metal body while he slowly descends, navigating you both down until you feel his boots finally meet solid ground.

You carefully reach for the ground with one foot and try to feel it with your tippie toes just in case he’s somehow tricking you, until Din drops you down and your feet mercifully meet dirt.  As soon as you find your balance, you shove an open palm against the metal of his chestplate in anger and Din quickly catches your wrist, the beskar shaking slightly under your hand like he found the whole thing rather humorous.

You don’t have much time to fuss.  He spins you around and then his hands settle on your shoulders, and for some reason… you only notice it now.  The fabric covering your torso and legs is gradually becoming damp for some reason.  You can’t feel any real splashes of water—no raindrops or anything, but it gets worse and worse the longer he holds you steady in front of him.

His hands eventually drag down your arms and elbows, until they’re catching your wrists and slowly pulling both of them up.  Din cradles the backs of your hands as he presses your palms against the cold metal helmet around your head, and then he gradually begins to pull it up, and—

—Loud.

You stop for a second.

… Tears spring up.

Din keeps pulling.

What starts out as a dull hiss continuously amplifies as the beskar slowly lifts, growing louder and louder in volume until it’s a deafening, violent, thunderous roar.

Yet still, you don’t open your eyes.  You just… listen to it.  Let the sound of it fill your heart, the same sound you caught earlier in the forest but now amplified exponentially, almost surrounding you with reverberating white noise.  Your whole body is practically drenched in water by the time you finally open your eyes and blink through the heavy mist.

He said no oceans, and he was right.  It isn’t an ocean—it’s… something so unbelievably beautiful that you don’t even have a name for it.  You don’t want one, not really.  There isn’t a name that would be good enough.  It’s easily—by and far, in your measley handful of decades of existence—the most majestic thing you’ve ever seen.  A gigantic, enormous cliff dwarfs you on three sides, with tens of thousands of tons of water arcing over their sharp edges and plunging into the rocky lake below.  

The cloud of droplets ricocheting from the base of the jaw dropping cascade is massive in and of itself—easily taking up a good quarter of your field of view even from this distance away.  The shore sits close enough but the spectacle is still somewhat distant, remaining an untouchable heaven, a gorgeous lake separating you from it and rippling with waves that settle to lap at the sand.

The rest of the setting comes later, after you’re able to process the main event.  You’re in the middle of the forest from before—familiar colossal trees wrap around the shoreline and vibrant shrubbery blankets the edges of the falling water, evergreen and fed by a constant nourishing mist.  The sun is also beginning to come up.  You can’t see it yet, but you can see the way the sky is starting to gradient itself from a starry midnight blue to pale lavender, the first rays beginning to peak over the treetops.

You feel yourself take a few, slow steps forward, but leather catches your hand from behind and gives it a firm squeeze before you can move completely out of reach.  You don’t even have to look back at him to know what it means.  The sentiment transfers seamlessly—be careful, he says, before dropping it and letting you continue forth.

Reaching the shore brings even more beauty to a backdrop you didn’t think could get any better.  You have to carefully step over—oh, heavens—small, transparent crystals tinted every color you can imagine to reach the water, sparkling under the gently lapping waves.  They’re like thin, flat shards of glass, and you know that if the sound of the falling water wasn’t so deafening, you’d probably be able to hear the muted crunching noise they make shattering under your boots with every cautious step.  Jagged edges and multicolored powder is all that’s left in your wake, no matter how careful you try to be.

You almost don’t want to move since they’re so delicate and everywhere, probably blanketing the entire floor of the lake, but you push forward with purpose until you’re just close enough to squat down and dip your fingers into the cool water.  It’s crystal clear and reflects the lightening sky with every gentle ripple and disturbance.  You study the pieces of glass as the repetitive waves distort their shape, the colorful shards turning to smooth, round pebbles the closer they are to the water.  A large green one catches your eye—circular and comparatively tiny, but standing out amongst all the rest.

You pluck it from the shore and let the almost perfectly round emerald sphere roll around in your palm, scanning the shallow water once more.  Then, ah—there, you reach out and grab a slightly larger, heavier, unassuming brown one that you have to hold up to the gradually rising sun to see its sparkle.  It’s got harder edges and feels rougher in your hand but you like it that way.  You like that there’s a bit of a warm amber at its center when the light hits it right.

Perfect.  Taking another moment to study your choices, you eventually end up finding a gorgeous, slightly pearlescent piece that sits just between the size of the other two in your collection.  It’s tinted a pale, off-white amongst a sea of color and there’s something gentle about it that speaks to you, something that feels right about the gradual sloping curves and how it sits in your palm.

Carefully pocketing the three pieces of fragile glass and rising up, you glance back to see Din standing there, helmet on once more and frozen right where you last left him.

He looks… awkward, almost.  Holding his hands behind his back, all his weight shifted to one foot while the other twists back and forth against the ground just slightly.  Nervous, for some reason.  Feeling unsure of his place.  The posture tugs at your heartstrings, as well as the spectacular gesture, and you soon make your way back to him.

“Where did you… where did you find this!?”  You have to yell over the rushing water once you get close enough.  “I didn’t see anything on the navcomp—”

“—wasn’t—navcomp—” he replies, barely just loud enough for you to hear.  You miss most of it, but you’re able to piece together the gist based on what little you can catch.  “—quarry—isolated sector—uncharted.”

Uncharted.  It’s uncharted, the navcomp wouldn’t register it.  Untouched by millennia of progress.  Plenty of people have probably seen it before, but apparently none of them have ever told anybody about it.  The universe is vast but it’s also old—it’s unbelievable that cartographers have plotted almost the entire galaxy but they still missed something like this.

The roar of the marvel is so deafening, it takes you a moment to realize he’s still speaking

“—nobody—yet—it—” he nods the helmet out at the spectacular landmark, “—it’s yours—you want—”

“My what!?”  You bellow, but he doesn’t clarify or add anything new.  He just spins you around again, extending his arm out over your shoulder to point at the breathtaking view and then dropping his helmet down next to your ear.

“Yours,” Din repeats firmly, resolutely.  Nothing more to be said.

You’re not sure if you’re crying yet, there’s too much water in the air to tell.  All you can do is just instinctively lean all your weight back into his chest and let his arms lace around your body, and you have to blink the droplets away as they start to trail down your forehead and into your eyes.  He keeps you like that until the rising sun begins to reflect off the cloud of mist at the rocky base of the monument, scattering light in all directions and splitting it into a beautiful spectrum that reflects every color.

You wonder if Din can see it.  You wonder if there’s a filter on his helmet that isn’t infrared or night vision, where a computer isn’t constantly alerting him to movement or sudden changes in atmospheric pressure.  Just… pure, unobstructed, visible light.  You know there’s probably all sorts of tracking measures programmed in, you know he can zoom and spot a sniper from a vast distance—you know he sees things you don’t.  Things you won’t ever see.  But you also hope the visor isn’t shaded too dark—you hope there’s a setting that works like a one way mirror, if only so that he can also see the beauty of this planet the same exact way you can.

You eventually turn in his arms and take one small step away from him just so you can look at him, and sure enough, the visor is tilted up towards the natural beauty.  Your eyes study every inch of him as if you’ve never seen him before, as if he may as well have taken the helmet off right in front of you.  This is thoughtful.  It’s so fucking thoughtful of him.  For being such a mystery, this right here… this is soul bearing.  It’s not an ocean, it’s a million times better than one and the fact that he not only remembered you telling him something like that, but he actually flew you out here to see it.  It makes your chest ache with an unknown feeling, one you still have trouble recognizing.  It settles down right in the softest part of you, makes your mouth open and give it a four letter name.

You say it so softly, confess it knowing he’s not looking, knowing he’d never be able to hear above the sound of the cascading rapids crashing against the rocks below.  You can’t hear it either, but you can feel it.  The way the word lilts off your tongue, the simple truth in it that’s impossible to hide from any longer.

He glances back at you, before doing a double take.  Gently, Din pushes at your shoulder and urges you to face forward again, to take all of it in while you still can, and yet.

All you can see is him.

His head slowly turns back down to face you, and your eyes keep shamelessly scanning every bit of him, watching the mist droplets chase each other down the reflective metallic curves and contours of his helmet.  Din slowly leans in, carefully eases his arm under yours and wraps tight around your lower back to bring you closer to his side.  You sigh and press up against him, your palm creeping up the damp fabric wrapped around his throat.  The visor doesn’t leave you, even when your temple comes to rest against his pauldron.  No, he just allows the smooth metal covering his forehead to gently touch yours for a moment and hold there.  Both of you tucked away in the middle of a hidden paradise, standing in front of a gorgeous monument crafted by the hands of the Maker himself.  

And, like the two starry eyed idiots you are, neither one of you can seem to look away from the other.

You mouth a silent thank you to him, hoping he can read the heartfelt candor from your lips.  Something tells you your message was received, because his grip tightens.  As if in slow motion, his whole body lazily drops down just enough to scoop you up with an arm hooked under your knees—before Din suddenly rockets upwards.

You squeal and cling tight to his shoulders as he lifts you up higher, and higher—he slowly rises across the considerable length of the lake and closer to the falling water.  You’re already beyond drenched but as he gradually approaches the base of the falling water, it starts raining down and splashing you in buckets.

Once he’s near enough to the powerful, arcing column pouring over the long rocky edge, Din carefully spins around and hovers until his back faces it, which means you can hide your nose and mouth from the splashes against the armor shielding his shoulder.  He slowly rises up the length of the natural landmark and lets you watch the rushing water up close behind the safety of his body, sacrificing his own view so that yours can be all the better.

Eventually the falling waves break and you look down at the broad, gorgeous rapids flowing out towards you, the sun casting its dawning light over their foaming peaks.  Din spins around and you adjust yourself accordingly against his chest, knowing you’ll never have a view like this again.  He flies low along the river and you can see the colorful glass sparkling through the strong, yet completely transparent current.  Soon he levels out and you cling tight to him, burying your face in the soaking wet fabric of the cowl wrapped around his neck and sighing, unable to recall a time you’ve ever been happier.  It swells in your heart and warms your entire body even as it’s drenched in cool water, and you wonder again how he could’ve ever thought you were running from him.  How could he ever think you’d run from him when all he’s ever done is give you wings?

***

The Crest hurdles through hyperspace while Din silently removes his armor and then strips you both of your sopping wet clothes.  You remember your glass souvenirs at the very last second and carefully remove them from your pockets despite your closed eyes, reaching out to hand them to Din without looking.  His palm catches the pebbles with the quiet sound of them clinking together, and you feel him pause for a second, probably studying them as he cradles them in the dim, single fluorescent light he left on.

You feel him leave you momentarily, hear him gently set them down someplace safe without a word.  When he comes back and his warm arms snake around you once more, he lowers you down to the blankets and then proceeds to make the softest love to you he knows how on the floor of his ship.  

A small part of you wishes you were still on Naboo, but somehow.  Somehow, despite the dead quiet hull, it’s better than anything you can remember.

His naked body presses tight to yours, his mouth always open and tasting wherever you’ll let him venture, never letting you forget for a single second that he’s just as bare and exposed as you are.  Your hands take full advantage, feeling everything.  The strong, rippling muscles of his back as he props himself over you, the soft hair curling at his nape, the length of his spine shielding you from the rest of the ship, allowing you the opportunity to pretend you’re somewhere else if you really tried.  If you tried, you could convince yourself you’ve got a mattress beneath you instead of a blanket draped over hard steel.  You could convince yourself your eyes are open while he kisses you, despite knowing it’ll never be allowed.

But… you don’t.  You don’t need to.  There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

And then at one point, his mouth is between your legs and you see a flash of his forehead on complete accident.

To see it on any other person would be nothing, it would mean absolutely nothing.  It’s not like it somehow makes him anymore recognizable to you—plenty of people share the same exact features, you still wouldn’t know him out of a trillion different faces.  He could walk right by you and you’d never know.  Technically, it’s not even his face—it’s just a small fragment of it.  But to you, the quickest glimpse of dark, wavy locks curtaining over the smooth, golden skin just below his hairline… it means everything to you.  You sear it into your memory, right alongside the sight of crystalline water roaring over an enormous cliff edge.

You never tell him you saw.  He never finds out.

[hoaqins-funk-house]

Springtrap

Yandere

Male Reader

Part 1

Sitting in the black swivel chair, you spin once or twice before coming to a stop, grimacing at the feeling of sticky floors beneath your shoes. This place is brand new, how the hell are the floors sticky? 

Actually, on that note, how is everything so covered in dust?

Sighing, your mindless fidgeting comes to a stop as the phone, just as dinky as the walls around you, begins to ring. You pick it up but put it back on the table, eyes drifting to the laptop and swing-out tablet. When you flip the former open, you note the four buttons, each relating to something you would have to reset when it comes time to. The latter has cameras that are scattered around, including a separate tab for vents. There’s an option to block off vents, which sends a chill up your spine as you glance to the big ass one at your side.

You decide to block that one off for now.

Humming, you familiarize yourself with the layout of the place, deciding to ignore the shadows that crept through your vision.

Your unenthused eyes scan and take in everything. The replicas (you had seen the originals, and they were permanently stained with both the smell and color of pizza sauce and lawsuits) that were in and around the office, as well as the little bobbleheads that sat on your desk of the animatronics, which were, for some reason, human? You boop the one who you assume to be Freddy, hearing the familiar squeak. 

A small smile comes to your lips.

It was at this time that you realized you had completely ignored the man on the phone, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. 

The little drawings that were put up were authentic; not just anyone could recreate what a child's mind spits out and decides to draw. 

That Freddy looks a bit fucked up.

The posters were cutely designed, and after getting the gist of what everything was and how everything works, you were on your phone the rest of the night.

When six strikes, you casually leave, giving the building a quick once over as you leave the doors, locking them behind you.

If every night is going to be like that, this is going to get boring.

-

He’s stuck.

This suit traps him like a rabid dog, eager to stay gripped onto his neck.

Still, things would be changing soon.

He can feel it.

He can feel it as a fresh breeze, the first in many years, hits his nostrils, sending a wave of euphoria through his system. The bloodied musk that hung in the dank room was not a pleasant one.

He can feel it as his body accepts this new host, more and more, until soon, quite soon, he will become one with his vessel. 

Just as the animatronics before him did.

He ponders. 

Why was he being freed from this prison of his own design?

Is he being taken somewhere?

…

Will there be a night guard to terrorize?

A grin takes to his broken lips as he ignores the pain and blood that comes from them. Oh, a night guard! Truly, that will be a sight!

He can't wait. 

For now, however, he must play dead.

My, that voice that shouts with excitement from behind him…

It sounds so familiar.

"Bring the truck around!" He calls. "I found one, a real one! It's got the rips, the weird colors, and what I am going to assume is pizza sauce! Ohohoh man, I hit the jackpot with this one! Fazbear's Fright needed something, and here it is!" 

His congratulatory tone made the man within the suit want to throw up. Finding him was nothing to be happy about; he is despicable, incapable of redemption, and an awful being. 

And you know what? 

That's just the way he likes it.

So to have someone happy to find him, especially for their own purposes?

He won't let it stand. 

Yeah, if this place has a nightguard, he'll kill them without mercy before burning the entire thing to the ground.

Might as well make it fun for himself.

As light peeks through, clearly originating from a flashlight, he feels his pupils shrink, resisting the urge to let out a groan as his weak eyes ache from their decades of being in the dark.

"Whoahoh! This one looks gnarly!" The same man as before speaks, probably referencing the organs and tendons that were showing. "C'mon, let's get it up!"

His grin only grows as two people lift him onto a dolly, beginning the move.

Goodbye, saferoom.

And hello, Fazbear's Fright.

-

Humming, you walk into the building, skimming over the decorations once more before noticing something.

The papers that had fallen onto the ground from before, they had dirt on them. Not surprising on its own, but when they were in the shape of tire tracks? 

You decide to follow them, using your memory of the cameras to guide you through the building, which was already rather linear anyway.

Entering the last area, you could see a rather dilapidated animatronic suit, with organs visible and its fur matted with blood. Real blood. The old Springbonnie suit was nearly green from how old and dirty it was.

Your eyebrows raise. "Is that guy just stupid or did he knowingly bring in a suit that has a dead body in it?"

Honestly, you didn't care. "Eh, whatever. It'll probably start moving when I start my shift… I've heard those rumors about the other locations." You turn, stretching, unaware of the eyes that followed you or the head that turned your way.

Damn, does he want to kill this one?

Well, he can think it over more soon. After the merge.

He grins again, feeling his uneven, gouged skin begin to flare with pain.

You exit the room fully, making your way back to the office with all the urgency of an ADHD-riddled person doing laundry.

Which is to say… not much.

You fall into the chair, cursing as the thin mesh cushion does nothing to protect your tailbone from the metal frame of the chair. The phone rings not a moment later, you picking it up and laying it on the table again, eager to ignore it just as you had done before. You stretch again, arms raising above your head as you begin to flip through cameras, finding the rabbit in the same spot it was in before. 

You yawn.

Hopefully it starts moving soon, or else the entire reason you took this job would be unfulfilled. 

You were bored, and you remembered this place from the times you had gone with your younger brother, who was now in his early twenties. You, however, were 28 years of age, with nothing better to do than 'investigate' the Fazbear's Fright that opened up. Still, if that rabbit has a corpse in it, it should make things more fun.

As you lazily flip through your cameras, you set it down and look to the side, seeing a rather dirty looking man with an eyepatch and fox ears. To his confusion, before he could lunge at you, you reach out and swipe a hand through his chest. You continue to swipe forwards and backwards, the incorporeal man stuck standing there until you leaned back.

"So, you're a ghost."

His mouth opens as if to retort, but he just gives up and leaps at you, you not even looking at him anymore. He closes his mouth halfway through the jump, and with an unsatisfied sigh, he disappears.

You continue flipping through the cameras, checking in on the rabbit a couple of times before shoving the tablet out of the way, opening the laptop to have it ready and sitting back in your chair.

You glance towards a shifting figure in front of the window, the hat and bear ears telling of who it is. He limps along, eventually falling beneath your view before seemingly phasing through the wall and leaping at you. You stare passively as he does so, him not completing the jump to instead stand in front of you, confused. 

For shits and giggles, you wave your hand through his chest once or twice.

"Why… aren't you… scared?" He croaks, voice ruined from years of no use.

"Oh, was I supposed to be scared?" You genuinely ask. "Uh, sorry. If you do it again I promise I'll hyperventilate."

"Don't try to… lessen your survival chances…"

"Okay. My bad." 

He sighs, and after annoyedly rubbing his face, he disappears.

You flip out your cameras once more, finding the screen obscured by static and a small error in the center. Lazily, you reset cams.

When your screen clears, you check the rabbit. He looks… strange. Like his body is evolving in front of your eyes. 

To be honest, you don't give enough of a shit to watch a potentially world-changing discovery if it looks that gross. You aren't paid enough to, anyway.

At this pay grade, you even coming into the damn building is volunteer work.

You check your phone for the time, seeing a cool time of one in the morning. 

"Aside from that science experiment gone wrong happening in the back room, it's still really damn boring."

However, it's still not boring enough to watch that transformation or whatever. That corpse (well, at this point, you kinda doubt it's dead) can do whatever the hell he wants with that suit. It's his body, not your business.

After another fifteen minutes of staring at a wall, you check the cameras to the sound of loud clicks and pops, now seeing a heavily scarred man with 1.5 rabbit ears in place of the suit. He takes one step out from his original spot, body heaving forward before he lifts himself up, looking up at the camera with a grin.

"Huh. That's new." You say, watching him jolt forward, continuing to take steps before relearning how to walk smoothly.

It only takes him a moment to rocket off.

"I doubt that's good." You mumble, beginning to flip through the cameras to follow him before playing a sound in the room behind him, making him pause. He turns, walking back with a confused expression.

Continuing to flip through cameras, you watch as the man, who you'll dub Rabbit Guy, wanders, seemingly having lost his focus. Hearing a sound to your left, you pay no heed to whoever it is, instead waggling your hand in what you would assume to be their torso.

"You're strange…" They say.

"Uh-huh. If you'd excuse me, I am currently working on keeping Rabbit Guy the hell away from me." Your voice is monotonous but sincere; you aren't trying to be sarcastic or mean, just trying to tell them the facts.

Glancing to the side, you see that it was a child, so you were waving your hand in his collar. "Oh, my bad. Does that… make you guys uncomfortable?" You ask, retracting your hand.

"No, we can't feel it." 

"Huh." You blandly respond, playing the sounds to lead Rabbit Guy back to where he started, before resetting sounds as you weren't able to play them anymore.

It seems like Rabbit Guy is getting progressively more and more annoyed at being led back, if his attempts to move fast enough to avoid the sounds or block out his ears meant anything. 

His body was responding to the sounds, not him.

It was then that he disappeared, so you check vents, finding him in one that led directly to the room beside your office.

You block it off, much to his annoyance, before yawning and sitting back as any thumps you hear from inside the vents come to a stop. 

You find him standing in the room where he had entered the vent, irritated as he glares at the camera. Preemptively, you reset all, thankfully right as cams and sound go out. 

Sighing, you lazily check through cameras, brows slightly furrowing as you look for him. He was completely gone, not in vents or in rooms. It really is unfortunate how many blind spots and shadowed areas there are.

When you hear the thumping of the vents, you search through them, only finding a stupid knick-knack laying on its side halfway in your sight.

Looking to your side, you peek into the vent, leaning down to see if anything was there. Your gaze meets Rabbit Guy's. 

"Shit." You say, quickly switching cams over to this one and holding down the seal button. 

Your eyes shift back to him, finding him way too close for comfort. As you lift your finger to let the gate close on the vent, the man (who was crouch walking) catches it, forcing it back up. You hear something grind that definitely shouldn't be grinding, and you have a feeling that that vent cover just might be broken.

Getting out of the vent, he stands over you, waiting for some sort of plea or… literally any response at all.

"So, you, uh… come here often?" You ask, leaving him genuinely at a loss. 

"Wh- was that a pickup line?" His rough, baritone voice catches you slightly off-guard. 

You weren't expecting something that was pretty much a zombie to have such a good voice, or a slight british accent for that matter. "Was it? Shit, more people've flirted with me than I thought."

"Really? That's all you can come up with before your death? I'd hate for those to be your final words." He lightly teases, leaning against the wall with a mean grin. 

You look up at the ceiling with a vague smile, his eyes widening momentarily. "To be honest, of any place to die, I'd much rather have it be in a place where I know I'll reach the front pages than in some random alley."

His grin falls into a frown as he watches you turn to him, the smile still on your face. It feels strange.

He feels strange. 

Why does a random night guard make him feel so…

So… comfortable?

You were calm, collected, not making any sudden moves or even attempting to exit the chair. Theoretically, the perfect prey, but not a satisfying kill. 

If he even wants to kill you, that is.

“What’s your name?” He asks, watching as you spin to face him in your chair. You would be taller if you stood, but he would still have a few inches on you.

“Y/N. You?” 

“I’m… William. Or, rather, I was, when I was well and truly human.”

“And now?” You ask.

“I don’t exactly have a name.”

“Can I still call you William, then? Well, if I live long enough to do so?” You ask, eyes moving up to meet his. Looking up at him like that… He wishes the hot feeling in the pit of his stomach would go away.

“...Fine.”

“I mean… are you going to kill me?” You ask, face not shifting as he glares down at you. 

“I won’t kill you on the first night, you need to give me more entertainment.” At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Oh, so we’re both here for the same reason.” You blankly say, his face contorting from a glare to confusion once more.

“You’re here… for entertainment?” He slowly asks, answered by your nod.

“I’m certainly not here for the pay. This place gives like half of minimum wage but I can’t complain about it because the other part is supposed to come from tips. Somehow.”

“How do you even live?” 

“Well, right now I’m on an paid leave due to some unfortunate deaths in my family. To be honest, I never really cared for any of them, but hey. I’ll take any chance for a break I can. Then I got bored.”

He huffs out a laugh. “So you went to another job on your break?”

“Listen, getting a month off leaves a man with little to do when capitalism has left me with no hobbies. Besides, this gives me a great excuse to continue avoiding people.”

His lips curl into an amused grin as he leans forward, lowering his head to be eye level with yours. "Well, you won't be avoiding me." He practically purrs, you averting your eyes at the tone he uses. 

Why would he say it like that?! 

His golden eyes follow you as you close the laptop's screen, enjoying your reaction. You…

He'll keep you around. 

You're entertaining and friendly. Open, and… warm.

He wonders. 

You're human, and fully alive. He's a revived corpse who merged with his vessel. You probably are very warm compared to him.

When he comes back to his senses, he notices you slowly raising out of your seat, hand outstretched towards him. 

Well, might as well take the chance.

He grabs your wrist, looking down at you unimpressed. You quietly huff, falling back into your chair and forcing him to move away from the wall in order to not dislocate your wrist.

Well, his hypothesis is correct. You are very warm. 

He feels the tightening in his gut, not wanting to let go but knowing that he will have to.

You, however, don't actually care either way. You begin your attempt again, this time with your left hand. Slowly raising out of your seat, you actually manage to stand fully up before he notices again, grabbing your other wrist. 

"What are you even trying to do?" He asks, a light sneer on his lips.

"Well... uh, I was trying to… boop your nose? If you're bonded with one of the original suits, then I figured either you or Fredbear would have the sound effect."

He lets out a few short laughs, his sneer replaced with the same amused grin as before.

"I'm afraid neither of us have the sound effect. That only came about with the second and third generations of animatronics."

You hum, interested.

His eyes quickly scan over you, taking in your form. This position, practically holding you hostage… Needless to say, he didn't dislike it.

Still, he releases you as he catches you glancing at what he assumes to be a phone. Things have advanced quite far since he was trapped. 

You turn it on quickly, checking the time. “Well, we have around an hour and a half before my shift ends, so…” Pausing, you check the time again. An hour and a half?

He steps closer, you glancing back up at him before leaning back as he leans forward, looming over you. “Tomorrow, you best make this more fun for me. I’ll greet you, but then I’ll head to the back. Try and stop me from getting in.”

“Uh, sure. Are you still planning on making the punishment for loss, uh, death?”

His eyes narrow in coordination with a widening grin. “That’s for me to know. You either figure it out, or you don’t. It all depends how well you play.” His gruff voice slightly echoes in the mostly empty building, you nodding in response. 

“Oh, cool. Can I tell my brother about you?” You ask suddenly, him quirking a brow as he stares down at you, easily at least half a foot taller than you. He was always tall, but now that he’s in this new form, he grew to be somewhere from 6’6 to 6’8. You sit down once more, exacerbating the height difference.

“Feel free to. Just know that if he ever comes around here, he won’t be alive for very long.”

“I doubt he will. He’s always preferred Foxy the most because he has taste, but-”

“Taste? For liking that liability-strewn fox? You like him as well?”

“To be honest, I never really liked any of them more than the other. I was in my emo phase when I went to see them, so it was practically illegal for me to like anything. But Foxy had sharp teeth and a wicked lookin’ hook, so… I guess I did.”

He hums, clearly slightly annoyed.

“Are you jealous that I liked the fox more than the rabbit that isn’t even the same generation as you?”

“I really should kill you.” His irritated expression shows the truth to your statement.

“It’s okay, I’m willing to call Springbonnie my favorite.”

Now, William was confused. Your tone… you weren’t joking. You were being genuine about something as stupid as this? What is with you?

“You’re very confusing. I think you joke, and then I listen to your tone and you’re genuine. But still, I wouldn’t mind if you did so.”

“It’s not nearly as confusing as how time passes in this place. It’s been like ten minutes since I met you but the clock says like three or four hours have passed.”

“What? Really?” His brows furrow as he steps closer, finding another excuse to close the distance between you both as he leans over the chair, seeing you pointing to the screen. “How strange…”

“Yeah. It doesn’t seem like tomorrow’s hunt will last for six hours, then. Thankfully.” You sigh.

“What, do you not want to feel like my prey for six hours straight?” He grins, leaning over further until his arm rests on your shoulder.

You shiver. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Because it makes you react, obviously. It’s entertaining to watch you squirm from something as simple as... the tone of my voice.” Of course, in order to prove his point, he does exactly what he did before, lowering his voice a few pitches and upping the growliness of it.

In covering your eyes, you also cover your cheeks, which have gained a slight flush. “William, I am begging you. Please, please, please, stop talking like that.”

And, naturally progressing, he was left somewhat stunned by the sound of your pleading tone. There’s just something about it, especially as you say his name, that makes him want to…

...makes him want to chase, and capture, and possess forever.

You as his prized prey, and him as the hunter.

“I’ll use it when necessary.” He vaguely answers, watching your head droop.

“I’ll take what I can get.” You concede breathily. 

He chuckles, hearing the chime of a bell, signifying 6 in the morning. "Well, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then. Don't keep me waiting."

"Asshole. I won't." You turn your head away from him, hiding the flush on your face, and stand up, stretching. "See ya, William."

He hums, eyes tracing your form as you stretch. It was a nice view, watching the button up shirt crease around your back as you stretch, clearly hinting at the muscle beneath. His eyes did drift lower once or twice, and that's how he figures out that damn, you have a really nice ass!

You begin to walk out, and he follows you with his eyes, watching you turn past the replica Freddy husk and unlock the door, exiting into the fresh morning. His eyelids droop, gaze slipping up as his lips curl into a wide grin.

“Y/N… I won’t kill you. Especially not when I’m presented with such an ample opportunity to make this into something so entertaining.” 

Well…

Is that the only reason?

Of course, he knows it isn’t.

His grin falls, leaving him coldly leering at the aged panels above him before his sight shifts back to the room around him. As he exits the office, he glances at the stained and shaded glass of the door, not allowing much, if any, light in. He turns away, heading back to where he was originally.

As he walks, he lets his form shift, feeling his body grow to his previous monster rabbit self, the creaks of his metal joints loud in the silent building. 

He ignores any shadows that creep in the edges of his vision, the specters traversing without sound. 

“This is going to be… boring.” His voice, far rougher than before, comes out unfeeling and croaky. As he returns to his previous position, slouching over once more, he decides to use his old tactic to pass time; inflicting enough pain on himself to fall unconscious. It doesn’t matter if his dreams are infested with darkness, nor how much he suffers in them. 

It was better than the boredom of sitting in one position with an unchanging environment.

He begins forcing his muscles to flex and strain within the suit and pull against the beams they have welded to, making him grit his teeth before the searing pain fades away, along with his vision.

Goodnight, Y/N.

-

“Yo.” You greet your brother, the man tiredly yawning as he ruffles his hair.

“Heya, Y/N. What’re you up so early for?” 

“Well, I got bored and got a night shift job at this dinky little horror attraction opening up next week. I decided to tell you about what happened there before I head off to sleep.”

“You got bored during a break from your job so you… got another job?”

“Y’know, William said the same thing.” You say, your brother narrowing his eyes at you.

“A coworker?” He asks. 

“Eh, not quite… he is the reason I stayed up to talk to you, though.”

He hums, walking around the couch you were splayed on with your shirt half unbuttoned. 

“So, to begin my tale, you remember Freddy’s? The pizzeria with the animatronics?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“Well the horror place I went to is based off of that; it’s filled with replicas and a few actual things from the pizzerias of the past, but something came in tonight that was… different.”

“Which was?”

“An animatronic. One of the originals, Springbonnie. Granted, the suit was ripped to shit and covered in enough dirt to be green, but it was authentic. It even has the dead body! Well - not so dead body, but still visible.”

“Did you call the cops?” He asks, worried.

“Hell no! I’m not paid enough to give a shit about what could-or-could-not-be a dead body. Either way, he transformed into a human, which was rather odd, but-”

“Just to be clear, this rabbit had a dead body inside and transformed into a human, and you don’t question it?”

“No. Continuing on, he got into my office and then we talked for a bit, I learned that his name is William, time passed really weirdly, and then we struck a deal where I have to keep him out of my office or I'll maybe die.”

“You’re still going back there?! And ‘maybe die?!’”

“Yeah, he said the knowledge about whether or not I die from losing the hunt was ‘for him to know.’ I didn’t question it further.” 

“You know, Y/N, sometimes it feels like I’m the older sibling. You’re fucking stupid.”

“I’m well aware.”

He leans over the couch, glaring down at you. “Then wisen up and quit that damn job.”

“I’m good. William is good company.”

“He threatened to kill you!”

“And? He hasn’t. Yet.”

“You infuriate me, gayboy.” He says, stepping away from the couch.

“Cool. I’ll sleep here for now, when you get back from work I’ll definitely be up.”

“Whatever.” He waves his hand at you, ignoring the middle finger pointing his direction from behind the couch’s back.

---

Part 2

also a lot of the stuff i write from now on may be male reader inserts lol

heres my springtrap design

here's the updated design lol

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 17

Request: Yes or No

For anyone curious and if I did my math correctly y/ns dad had him when he was 35. This one feels short and I hate ittt but I tried making it feel longer. The chunks are just thicc

~

"So, why are we going to Belgium?" Natasha asked, setting the course. You looked at her, taking a seat beside her.

"Cause.. I have family there.. She might be family, I don't now." You answered, feeling the jet move forward before it took off into the sky.

"Family? Like, blood related? Who?" Natasha asked, glancing at you. You licked your lips, staring forward.

"My aunt." Natasha's brows raised, looking over at you. You sighed, nodding.

"What if she turns me away?" You asked softly.

"Well.. You're probably her only remaining family. I wouldn't want to turn away a family member." Natasha licked her lips, looking forward at the passing clouds.

"What do I even say? Hey, I'm (Y/N) and I have superpowers?"

"Well, you can introduce yourself and ask about her brother." Natasha gave a small smile. You nodded.

"How's Clint?" Natasha asked, rested her head on her fist. Her hair was long and her natural red locks were returning. It made her hair look a little weird but she was going through a lot of things.

"Who fucking knows." You frowned, arms crossing. Clint had fucked off to god knows where, leaving you to deal with your grief alone. Natashas' brows furrowed.

"Clint has decided not to return home in what feels like weeks. Maybe even months, I haven't been paying attention." You shrugged lightly. Natasha frowned, leaning back in the seat. Definitely didn't sound like Clint but grief could make people do crazy things.

"I've been trying to keep up with the house but I'm just one guy handling everything Clint decided to build and add on." You licked your lips, shaking your head and letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry." Natasha said softly, giving your arm a squeeze. "I'll talk to him if you want."

"Let him do whatever the hell he wants to do. He's a grown man." You replied, feeling bitter and resentful. Natasha silently nodded. The rest of the ride was silent until the jet reached Belgium.

"We're here." You stepped out of the jet, feeling a small breeze go by. You felt your stomach doing flips, heartbeat quickening. You took in a deep breath, glancing at Natasha. She placed a gentle hand on your back, offering a small smile.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get in touch with Clint?" She asked, head tilting. You shook your head.

"It could make things more complicated." You said, looking around. The house across the street matched with the address Tony had given you. It was more on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees. You could hear some horses behind the house. You took in a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves as you walked towards the house, crossing the road. Natasha followed, studying the area.

"Seems like gardening might run in the family." Natasha said, motioning to the flower garden.

"Yeah.." You chuckled softly. You stepped onto the porch, noticing some plotted flowers on the windowsill. You raised your hand, pressing the doorbell. You waited a few minutes about to press it again before the door opened. A scowl appeared on Florines' face. She was shorter than you had imagined. Her hair was a bit messy and tied back into a low ponytail.

"Wat wil je?" She asked, gaze flickering over to Natasha. You swallowed, fiddling with your fingers.

"Are you Florine De Meyers?" You asked, watching her narrow her eyes.

"Who's asking?"

"(Y/N).. I think I might be the son of your brother." You said quietly. Florine stared at you, lips parting. Her features softened for a second before the frown returned. She opened the door wider, letting you and Natasha inside. The inside of the house smelled like black tea, earthy and floral. It felt straight out of a country movie.

"I've got some tea and speculoos." Florine called as she entered the kitchen. You looked at the pictures she had up. Most were pictures of horses or her at events with friends. You didn't see any pictures that seemed family related. You took a seat on the floral patterned couch, gazing dropping onto the unbothered elderly sheepdog. It made no attempt to move and simply rolled onto its side to face away from you.

"That's Gerdie. Old girl used to be a good guard dog but now she's more of a house cat." Florine said, sitting down and placing a tray on the coffee table. Natasha reached forward, taking one of the biscuits. Florine reached under the table, looking through the books she had before pulling out what looked like a photo book.

"The reason I didn't slam the door in your face is because Michael had told me he was gonna have a kid named (Y/N)." Florine said, hand wiping away the dust in the book. She scooted forward, placing the book on the table.

"Michael?" You repeated, looking at her. She nodded, opening the book. She flipped to the second page, pointing to a picture of a young boy by a fireplace opening presents.

"Michael, my half brother and your father." Your brows raised, leaning in to take a better look. The photo was old but you could see his face clearly. Natasha leaned in as well, smiling gently.

"You have his smile." She pointed out.

"Michael and his father moved here from America when he was about five. He met my mother and they got married. They had me when Michael was nine. He was a good brother. He held no resentment towards me or my mom. Michael was as stubborn as a mule and he could never keep his mouth shut. He'd let you know if he didn't agree with you." Florine chuckled, shaking her head. You watched the nostalgic look pass over her eyes.

"What happened to him?" You asked softly. Florine let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair. She reached down, giving Gerdie some pats on the head.

"He disappeared for some time." She answered, gaze becoming distant.

"He wrote letters occasionally. Said he was working for a government in another country.. He might've been some sort of spy, my memory's a little fuzzy on the subject. He spent a long time working but.. He came back eventually. He never talked about it but he was good ole Michael." Florine leaned forward again, flipping to another page of a more grown up Michael. You did notice some similar features between him and you.

"By then, our father had passed from cancer and my mother needed all the help she could get. Michael built this house with some friends of his and gave it to my mother. Oh, my mother was so happy. She got the farm she had always wanted and got to garden whenever she could." Florine pointed to a a couple in the photobook.

"This is your grandmother, Sylvie. You would've loved her. She made the best cakes in town. This is your grandfather, Jonathan. He was always up to no good. He loved pulled helping the kids in town with pranks." Florine spoke of them fondly. Her childhood seemed to have been good with Jonathon and Sylvie.

"You have powers, right?" Florine asked, looking at you. You nodded, reaching out to the plant on the coffee table and watching it grow taller.

"She passed on her powers to you." Florine leaned back, clearing her throat. You glanced at Natasha, noticing her eating another biscuit.

"She? Who's she?" You asked, looking back at Florine.

"Your witch of a mother." She answered bitterly. You raised your brows at the hate and disgust in her tone.

"I shouldn't speak ill of her. Even if she deserves it." Florine muttered, standing up with a heavy sigh.

"C'mon." She motioned for you to follow. You turned towards Natasha. Natasha picked up another biscuit, making eye contact with you. You raised your brows.

"What? These are delicious!" Natasha huffed. You chuckled, standing up and following her out the backdoor. You noticed the stables with the horses walking around their fenced area. Florine had a vegetable garden and a greenhouse out back as well.

"Those pretty babies are Ernie, Kuma, and Goldie." Florine said, motioning to the horses. They approached the fence when she walked over to them. You smiled softly as she petted them, cooing in Dutch.

"They won't bite. Well, Ernie might but he's just a playful old man." Florine chuckled, turning back in the original direction. You followed her down a dirt path and into a wooded area. You blinked, seeing what looked like a moss covered statue of a woman. Her eyes were closed though her head was pointed downwards, looking at anyone who walked down the path.

"She was a charming little witch, I'll give her that." Florine crossed her arms, staring up at the statue. You tilted your head, licking your lips.

"Did he make this for her?" You asked, turning to look at her. Florine shook her head, looking down at the ground.

"Gaia, or better known as Mother Nature, is your mother. She took a human form in an attempt to convince humans to cherish what she had given them. When that proved useless, she spread plagues as punishment. What Gaia truly wanted.. Was a child. Animals, humans, and all those things were creations.. Projects she could ignore if she got bored. She met your father and he fell for her." Florine told you, another breeze blowing by. You reached your hand forward, gently touching a flower that rested by the statue. It felt full of life.

"Your mother fell pregnant with you and Michael was thrilled. Gaia had started realizing that human life wasn't for her. She was slowly becoming human herself. She disappeared with Michael and returned without him or you. She explained she couldn't stay and left her human body here."

"She abandonded me for no reason?" You stared up at the statue, features hardening.

"In some sense, she didn't. She's all around us so.. Your mother never truly left you." Florine said, turning to look at you. You scoffed.

"I have a mother. Her name is Laura Barton and she's not here anymore because of Thanos." You looked at Florine, blinking away tears.

"I don't blame you for being angry. I never found out where she took you or if you were even alive. If you want to keep in touch, I don't mind. Lord knows I could use the company." Florine looked forward again. You let out a soft sigh, shoulders slumping.

"And.. And dad? What happened to him?" You asked hesitantly, almost afraid of finding out he had done the same as Gaia. Florine stayed silent for a moment.

"He.. They never told me how it happened but.. He was murdered." Florine revealed, staring at the ground with a small frown. You stared at him, brows furrowing.

"What? By- By who?"

"You might've heard of him. People around town were talking about him a two or three years back. The infamous Winter Soldier."

~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace

[brutal-nemesis]

Saltwater Day 2021: Dinner Date with an Eel 💕

Feel that ocean breeze, baby! Cries in lives in a very landlocked area I hope y’all are having some fun in the salty spray ✨Today we finally get to see a Castys misadventure that I’ve talked about in the tags before: the big boy drowning incident! So sit back, relax, and enjoy the agony <3

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: drowning, animal attack, self harm to escape danger, sort of self amputation, gore, broken bones, suicide for convenience (immortal)

Castys had jumped off of higher cliffs before. Granted, he had done it because he was too lazy to walk to the bottom, and he’d landed on solid rock, and it had been very painful for all of two seconds, so this didn’t make him any less terrified of being shoved off of this one. And yes, that’s right, he was going to be shoved off of this one, into the crashing waves below, which was certainly how he’d planned on spending the morning. Nothing better to start the day than a pointless execution!

Oh, but why are you being executed, Castys, you’re so good and noble and also immortal so this isn’t going to work is it. No, no it’s not going to work. And Castys was being “executed” because, well...turns out people don’t take too kindly to finding out you’re the dreaded Pirate King Ragnarok. As usual, he’d fought and tried to get away, and as usual he’d failed miserably. So here he was, wrists chained together behind his back, ankles chained to a stupidly large rock, and a cloth tied tightly around his mouth.

He tried not to think about having to deal with this arrangement once he was underwater, which was something he was less than excited for. There was already quite a large crowd gathered so, hey, at least he was popular. Actually, scratch that, based on the looks he was getting, he was definitely unpopular. He shifted a bit, causing the men gripping his arms to tighten their grasp. He huffed, wishing he had the ability to tell them to chill the fuck out.

“People of Meruna, we are gathered her today for the execution of the notorious-“ oh my FUCK nevermind just push him off already this whole thing was already bad enough without a speech about all his crimes and whatever. Not that he didn’t love hearing about his exploits, because fuck if he regretted any of it, but the sun was hot and he was tired of standing. That water was going to feel so good...until it was filling his lungs ugh nope don’t think about it like that he was just going for a nice swim that’s all. He was going to be in the nice, cool water without any of these assholes glaring at him, and he’d get out of these chains somehow and come back in ten years and release all their goats and that would show them.

All of a sudden, the hands on him started to push him towards the edge of the cliff, a third guard rolling the rock he was chained to along using her foot. Fuck, fuck the speech was over they were doing it he was going over the edge he’d just been joking earlier he really didn’t want to even if the water would feel good he’d rather stand out here all day because that sure as hell was better than drowning over and over and over the edge the air was rushing by the top of the cliff was getting farther and farther away any second now he-

Castys screamed into the gag as he slammed into the cold water, wasting his last breath of air like an idiot before he started to sink beneath the crashing waves, pulled down by the boulder attached to his ankles. He could only squirm uselessly as he sank deeper and deeper, the soaked-through gag filling his mouth with the taste of saltwater, just to make things even more unpleasant. His arms were killing him, and, you know what, they took the brunt of the impact with the water, so they were probably fucking broken, weren’t they? At least they would heal after...after he drowned for the first time. Already his lungs were starting to burn, but thankfully the rock had finally hit the bottom, so he wouldn’t sink any further and therefore the painful pressure on his ears wasn’t going to get any worse, at the very least. 

Positives, positives, since he was probably going to be here for a while...it wasn’t so stupidly hot anymore, instead it was stupidly cold, and already his fingers were starting to go numb-nope, nope, not a positive, let’s try again. It was rather pretty down here, despite the fact that black spots were starting to cloud his vision, and also things were starting to get kinda...woozy, a little bit, a little, hell-o and goodbye, wasn’t it time now? Yeah, yes, the burning was too much it hurt hurt hurt everything was black and black was good bec-

He didn’t bother counting how many times he drowned. Maybe it would have helped pass the time or something, but, let’s be real, there were better things to focus on than how many times he’d experienced the horrible burning in his lungs and that awful lightheadedness. His broken arms had healed up, so that was something, but they were still very much shackled behind his back. If they were free he could at least get that stupid gag out of his mouth and try to fuck with the chain connecting his ankles to that dumb rock. He settled for looking around the underwater landscape surrounding him, glad that sunset was still a ways off. As far as he could tell.

When he could see and think clearly, it was kind of cool to be down here, circumstances aside. All sorts of fish, many of them varieties that he knew what they tasted like, swam around between the wavy water plants. There was even a really big lookin’ boy off in the distance that he’d seen out of the corner of his eye a few times, though it was coming closer now, and he was just starting to be able to make out...wait-was that a-great. Absolutely fantastic, just what he needed. A fucking shreilian eel. How dare he drown over and over in peace, no, no let’s add a vicious man-eating monster to the mix! At least he wasn’t bleeding, so the creature wouldn’t be immediately drawn to him. He’d get to keep his limbs intact for a little longer-wait wait wait. Okay that was absolutely crazy and sounds entirely unfun, but...it might just work.

Castys mustered as much strength as he could, ignoring the ever-present burning of his lungs, and began to clumsily bash himself against the nearby wall of stone. It was coated in barnacles and the like, but their sharp edges were just what he was looking for. Soon enough, he felt the awful sting of saltwater in the many small cuts that were now littering his arm. Fuck, that was nowhere near enough blood to get that eel over here, and his vision was starting to go dark. If he didn’t get that damn thing over here now he’d die and heal and have to do this bullshit all over again no no no get over here you stupid thing fuck yeah that feels like a nice gash it burns to high hell but so does everything and look at all that bloody water or maybe it’s just getting too dark because it is dark and...so...hurt…

When he came back to life, there was a small cloud of blood swirling in the water around him, but it was dissipating more and more by the second. He couldn’t see the eel anywhere, and if that bastard disappeared on him after all that...Instinctively, he tried to take a deep breath and ended up sucking a bunch of water up his nose like an absolute idiot, his nostrils now burning just as much as his even more waterlogged lungs. His body tried to cough, but it was just painful and useless like everything else he’d done while stuck down here, and he just ended up thrashing around like an injured fish.

Just what the eel had been waiting for.

It felt like he’d suddenly been hit by a mace, slamming him into the rocks, his arm lighting up with the pain of a thousand hot spikes, almost too intense for him to even process, the salty water magnifying every little agony tenfold. Castys was certain he would have been screaming if he had the air, and as much as this was absolutely fucking terrible, he hoped the eel would do it again. It had bitten off a good chunk of his arm as far as he could tell, but not enough to completely sever it and free him from the restraints. And for once, his horrid luck regarding avoiding pain paid off. The eel rammed into him again, ripping off more of his arm with its razor-sharp teeth and causing the bones of his forearm to crack. 

Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness. 

Castys’s arms were free. Well, one was free, and the other one was still manacled, attached to...what was left over after all that. He ripped the gag out of his mouth, resisting the urge to suck in mouthfuls of air that were absolutely not there. Looking down at his ankles, he wasn’t sure if-his body exploded with pain as the eel rammed into him again, taking a chunk of flesh from his side, which was definitely not where he wanted to be bitten. Gritting his teeth against the anguish that almost consumed him, he grabbed the wrist of his severed arm and clumsily smeared blood around his ankles, hoping it would entice the monster to attack them and help set him free. 

It worked, and it didn’t. The eel attacked him again and again, no longer pausing in between bites to circle him. Castys wasn’t even sure where it was biting him anymore, he just knew that everything hurt, the saltwater in his wounds magnifying the pain so much that there was no discernible source. He didn’t try to fight the eel off, hoping it would just do enough damage to his legs that he could get free, but he wasn’t sure if he could have even tried to get it away from him if he wanted to. Things were getting so dizzy so fast, all of a sudden, there was nothing to do but wait and die and hurt…

When he came back to life, Castys was disappointed to find that he was not floating to the surface. In fact, one of his ankles felt kind of weird, like it wasn’t shackled anymore, but still...for fuck’s sake. One of his ankles had been freed, torn enough to shreds before he’d died that the manacle had come off, but the other one was...well the manacle wasn’t around his ankle so much as it was…in his ankle. How the fuck that had happened, he had no clue. He just knew he had to deal with it. Looking around, the eel wasn’t anywhere to be seen, probably full to bursting after its meal, and though his heart sank a little at the thought that he couldn’t rely on it anymore, he was also slightly relieved, because that thing had been vicious. It had, however, left a parting gift. He swam downwards and grabbed the smooth fang off of the sandy ocean bottom, gripping it tightly. Just a little bit more. 

He had endured so much already, felt pain more intense, experienced sensations more gruesome, but this...this was more active than everything else that had happened down here. More visible. He had to make every stab and slice deliberately, had to watch the tooth do its damage, it wasn’t mindless bashing or praying he’d get bitten in the right places, but an active choice to cut his flesh away, inviting burning seawater into a wound once again, and it was difficult. Part of him wanted to stop, take a break, please, I don’t want to have to do this anymore, I want to let go, just for a little bit, please, but he knew he couldn’t, because he had to get this done before he drowned again or he’d have to start the whole damn thing over. 

Relief like he’d never known washed over him as he finally managed to worm the manacle out of his shredded ankle and he felt himself start to rise. The lightheadedness was getting worse, and he wasn’t sure if he’d make it in time, so he wormed his finger into the pouch around his neck and let the death stone’s magic take him before the lack of air could. He was still rising when he came back to, and he propelled himself towards the surface with renewed strength, despite the pain of his ears popping and the odd ache in his joints. 

Finally, blessedly, he made it to the surface, and air had never tasted so fucking good. Not that it wasn’t salty, but it wasn’t as salty as saltwater, and he sucked as much of it as he could into his waterlogged lungs. He looked up at the cliff towering over him, now painted with the orange of sunset instead of the gold of sunrise. He...he had been down there all day just...downing. And getting eaten. Kinda fucked. Seeing a nearby rock, he swam over to it and scampered on top, collapsing on its damp surface as he coughed up far too much fucking seawater. Fuck, his head was spinning and his joints hurt, like they probably would have if he could grow old. Well, nothing that one last death can’t fix, now that he was finally on land again.

Castys opened his eyes and sat up, feeling perfectly fine besides the awful, salty taste in his mouth. He looked over at the cliff smugly. Those bastards had tried to get rid of him for good, and they’d failed miserably. He folded down his middle fingers and placed his thumbs over them, a rude gesture in this part of the world. Seeing the remnant of his arm dangling from the manacle still attached to his left wrist, he had a devilishly gruesome idea. 

The next morning, the whole town was awoken by the screams of a young couple who had gone out for a stroll.

Right there, in the middle of the town square, was part of a crudely severed arm, its fingers frozen in an obscene gesture, its skin slimy and already starting to slip off. A manacle was clamped around its wrist, attached by a short chain to the other one, which had been broken open. 

The execution had failed, and that heinous pirate had escaped.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words

[mythicamagic]

In the Company of Wolves: Inukog oneshot

Summary: Every place feels like a temporary home for a Hanyou. Kouga offers Inuyasha a welcome respite within his wolf pack. Inukog oneshot

Written for @gaykagome​, who has been a lovely, encouraging commenter and fandom friend ^^ thank you for your support bud.

Rated T

7,000 words (you can also read this on ao3 via the same username)

In the Company of Wolves

Leaping through sprawling trees, thick white hair flew out behind a red figure. Inuyasha landed on a sturdy branch, legs bent, muscles coiling and springing free as he leapt forth again. He smirked, a fang hooking over his bottom lip.

"Nice try, but you ain't got a hope in hell."

The deer fleeing for its life beneath the branches had skittered to the left, racing through dense undergrowth. Perhaps it hoped to lose him, or maybe it was running scared. Either way, this would be over quick.

Stepping from branch to branch, long fingers flexed, claws catching on sunlight. Pushing off from a tree trunk, Inuyasha sprang down with every intent of landing atop his prey.

He fell within range, closing in- only for his foot to collide with a mass of thick black fur.

Inuyasha's eyes flew wide, crashing into the beast and hitting the floor in a tumble of limbs. The deer merrily pranced away out of sight.

Snarling and lifting his head, Inuyasha cradled his throbbing skull. "Damn it, what the-!"

A large bear-sized wolf staggered to its feet, rumbling a noise of complaint. Two cobalt blue eyes glared at him.

Inuyasha stopped, "Kouga?" he rose a bushy brow.

There was no mistaking that smell. He'd never seen the mangy wolf's true form before though. In all honesty, it was kind of surreal. Hell, the guy even looked a bit more dignified.

Kouga tilted his head, standing. As he shook himself, yellow, static powder fell from his fur like gold dust, swirling into a whirlwind of youki. In a matter of moments, Kouga's humanoid form stepped out, hands on his hips.

"Why'd you get in my way?! You lost me my meal!"

White triangular ears flicked and pressed back against his skull. Fuck taking that. Inuyasha stood, hands balled into fists.

"Your meal?! I've been tracking that deer for at least an hour! You weren't even in the picture, I didn't smell ya chasing it once!"

Kouga tilted his chin up, flashing a cheeky grin. "Tch, that's what happens when you track from downwind, Dog Breath," he muttered, ignoring the pissed off Hanyou and looking around. "How come you're out here huntin' anyway? Isn't Kagome with you? She always carries some goodies to chew on. Tastier than venison too."

Inuyasha glanced away moodily, crossing his arms. "Shaddap. Like it's any of your business."

Kouga hummed, scratching his jaw. Odd. There was no bite in his tone. Sniffing a little, Kouga picked up the faint scent of sadness clinging to the robe of the fire rat.

Inuyasha's face heated. He quickly bared his teeth, "quit with that! She's just busy, alright? Besides, I can still hunt for myself. Ain't you a little far from your territory to be hunting out here?"

Kouga blinked, mildly concerned despite their history together. "Uhh… where do you think you are, Dog Breath?"

Frowning, Inuyasha glanced around. Clearly no answers were forthcoming from the forest, so leaping up, he climbed a tree, digging claws into rough bark to hoist himself up. Minding the tallest branches aside, Inuyasha gaped as he surfaced from the sea of greenery. Sprawling, picturesque mountains met his startled gaze.

How far did I chase that deer?

And why'd it have to lead him to Kouga's turf, of all places?

Dropping down to solid ground again, Inuyasha avoided eye contact. "I just got caught up in running, that's all," he answered the silent question hanging in the air.

Kouga tilted his head slightly, "… right."

A rumbling sound rang out between them. Inuyasha grit his teeth, ignoring the impatient gurgling of his stomach and swiftly turning. "Whatever. See ya," he started walking.

"Hey-" Kouga called, causing him to nearly trip in surprise and frown over one shoulder.

The wolf winced, looking awkward and weirded out to even be asking. "We got leftovers. If you want some," the offer was casual. "Don't want you keeling over on the way back, Kagome would kill me."

Inuyasha stared. Maybe he'd hit his head or something because for some reason, the offer sounded like a tempting one.

"Keh," he grunted, pivoting on one heel and trudging towards Kouga's territory instead. "Better be good," he complained with no energy behind it.

"Its free food! Be more grateful to your host," the wolf snarked, jogging to keep pace with him.

---

Mutters echoed throughout the cave, causing white ears to twitch and swivel atop his head. Inuyasha ignored the curious wolves, digging into tough boar meat. Uncooked. Miroku and Kagome would've called it ghastly. His lips twitched at the thought, soon wiped away. Something squeezed his chest instead.

"Hey, blabber-mouths! Keep it down!" Kouga's booming voice caught his dazed attention.

Ginta and Hakkaku quickly shut up, apologising. The rest of the wolf pack fell quiet, though their eyes blazed with questions.

Inuyasha rose a brow and glanced at the Wolf Prince. Did he think the gossiping bothered him or something? Weird guy. He should know a Hanyou would be used to it.

Kouga's tail flicked as he strode through regular wolves, minding some beasts aside. He then threw himself down beside Inuyasha on some soft furs, stealing a rib. Not having the energy or inclination to snap at him for it, Inuyasha merely flashed his teeth, grunting and continuing to eat.

"So what brings you to us, Inuyasha?" Hakkaku asked bluntly. Ginta gasped and fretted, clearly having wanted to ask more delicately.

Inuyasha drew into himself slightly, noticing a hush fall over the atmosphere within the damp cave.

"Was just in the neighbourhood is all. If ya wanna blame someone for dragging me here, look no further than your precious leader," he snorted, sidestepping the question.

Kouga elbowed him and chuckled in a deep, rich baritone. Triangular ears flicked upon hearing it. "Aw c'mon! You practically tripped over yourself getting here you were so eager," glimmering blue eyes swung to his pack, giving a shit-eating grin. "He's just too proud to say 'thank you for the meal' because he lost his prey and is still being a sore loser about it~"

Inuyasha blinked, noticing his verbal diversion and change in topic. Kouga was... helping him?

Sure enough, the wolf demon gazed at him, brows raised in challenge, trying to encourage a rebuttal.

Relief touched Inuyasha's face for a moment, before snorting loudly and thrusting his nose up in the air, turning away. "Me? You're the one who got in my way, Mangy Wolf."

"Dog Breath!"

"Flea Bag!"

The wolves glanced back and forth between them, noticing the lack of malice in their nicknames. Their scents were calm, giving them away. A touch of humour and enjoyment radiated from them as they bickered.

"Alright, prove it-" Kouga suddenly threw out. "Hunt with us tomorrow. Then we'll see who's better at it," he jabbed a thumb at his chest. "Obviously, it'll be us wolves! I've provided for my pack as leader for tons of years and I'm faster than you."

Rolling golden eyes, Inuyasha picked up a stone, hollowed out cup of water, taking a sip. "Keh, wouldn't be the first time people have underestimated me. Won't be the last," easing slightly closer to get in Kouga's face, he bared sharp fangs in a feral grin. "I'll beat you just like I've beaten everyone else who figured a half-breed couldn't measure up to a full demon."

Kouga stared, a funny look crossing his face- both palms shooting up to wave slightly. "Huh? Nah, you've got me wrong," he grunted, straightening his spine. "I was just trash talkin' you as competition, not because you're a Hanyou. I honestly wasn't thinkin' of that," his voice trailed into a musing tone.

A stab of surprise and disorientation swung through Inuyasha. There was no time to recover, however, as the demon kept talking. "Though now that you mention it, you're probably used to hunting alone, right? We'd call you a Lone Wolf if you were one of our kind. My pack will win through sheer teamwork."

Inuyasha huffed. So clearly it was more like 1 vs 30 rather than a fair fight. Coward.

Ah well. Looking down at the bones he'd picked clean, he gave a rough shrug of his shoulders. Not like he had anything else to do. He could stick around a little longer.

"You're on."

----

Many hours after the sun had gone down, taking its vibrant colourful sky with it, the moon had opened up her blanket of stars. Inuyasha sat at the mouth of the wolf pack's cave, hands thrust inside his sleeves. Tetsusaiga rested against one shoulder.

The wolves had finished singing their melodies to their mother, the moon, so they'd settled down.

Golden eyes slid towards their sleeping forms. They'd packed themselves tight against one another to retain some heat. Only a few had broken off in pairs to cuddle by themselves. Ginta and Hakkaku were well and truly wrapped around one another, swathed in furs.

They all looked comfortable. Trusting, together. A family unit.

Inuyasha stared. The most annoying part about it was that he could never pinpoint exactly what he was feeling, looking at groups like this. It made him uncomfortable, a reminder that they had something he didn't. Maybe he had, for a time, but his friends had all split off to live their own lives. Shippo was growing up. Miroku and Sango had their own family now.

Kagome…

He wasn't needed anymore. Their quest had been over for a long time. He should be over it by now.

Staring at the pack was like looking into a store window in Kagome's time. Unseen glass forever separated him from what they possessed.

Kouga lifted his head from where he lay, noting a chill in the air. Inuyasha met his gaze, quickly turning to face the other way and pretending to look at sprawling scenery. A snort sounded out in the cave before sharp, static youki fanned into the breeze.

Transformed, Kouga stepped around his pack and lay down towards the entrance, blocking out the night's chilly breeze with his thick fur and large form.

Inuyasha glanced behind him with mild surprise.

Kouga was maybe, actually, kind of…

... a good leader.

---

It started at midday.

The pack immediately flooded the forest, racing through it like droves of rats. Inuyasha shared a look with Kouga, before smirking and starting to leap from tree to tree.

Hunting with wolves nearby started to look next to impossible, considering how eagerly they dove and ran through the undergrowth, loud and clumsy. However, the second they caught wind of a herd, they split off into different, smaller groups. Inuyasha watched them from his vantage point above.

Scouts ran on ahead. Kouga kept towards the back of his pack, signalling orders with mere grunts, growls or gestures of his hand. Inuyasha followed the scouts, dropping down to run alongside them. They were slightly younger demons, teenage boys and girls, lithe and built for running. They stared at him but gave tentative grins.

Inuyasha blinked and offered a slight smirk, soon powering on ahead and leaving them behind.

Sniffing out a herd of deer that the wolves intended to close in on, Inuyasha kept to his vantage point in the trees. He rounded one side of a large clearing, heart thundering.

It had been a long time since he'd hunted seriously. It took him back to old times. Kagome had spoiled him with ramen, and complacency softened his body. But now rusty instincts were awakening, shaking the dust away. His fangs ached. Demon senses kicked in, blood pumping. He could hear and smell everything, down to the blades of grass, fusty scent of deer and pungent odour of wolves.

As predicted, Kouga's scouts halted at the opposite side of the treeline. Lower-ranking wolves and wolf demons alike burst through into the meadow then, causing the herd to take off running.

Right towards Inuyasha.

Dumbasses. Didn't they figure they were leading them right to him?

Grinning, Inuyasha's clawed nails elongated slightly. Waiting as a few deer ran beneath his position- he suddenly lept. Free-falling and spreading both arms wide, he tackled a stag around the neck, yanking it down with him using his weight.

Grabbing it by the antlers the second he recovered, Inuyasha gave a quick jerk, snapping its neck cleanly.

Panting and grinning, he raised triumphant eyes-

Only to see Kouga bent over a felled deer not too far away. His mouth was bloodied. His prey lay dead on one side. It was obvious from the number of adults mid-way through their meal that they'd taken it down much quicker than Inuyasha. They'd had the same idea, flushing out prey and leaping upon them from the opposite direction. Somehow they'd evaded even his detection.

Younger wolves looped around, waiting pensively for their turn.

Kouga licked his lips, maintaining eye contact. Dark hair hung loose from its typical ponytail, claws stained crimson. Inuyasha's heart skittered. His breath halted.

The demon drew bloodied lips back over his fangs when a lower wolf sniffed too close to his food- a loud, powerful snarl thrumming through the clearing.

An answering rumble built in Inuyasha's throat, unbidden. Blazing, twisting heat hooked low in his stomach, cock twitching.

Golden eyes snapped wide, realising just what the fuck he was reacting to.

Kouga's feral expression softened back to normal, shooting him a surprised grin and happily digging into his meal, none the wiser.

Shaken, Inuyasha grimly started tucking into his own, busying himself with eating. He then offered some scraps to some salivating teens, ignoring the amused demons watching. He wasn't above dining with pups. Especially if it meant never confronting what had just happened.

---

"So you and Kagome broke up, huh?"

Inuyasha jolted, wondering how obvious he'd been about it. Frowning at Kouga, who seemed content to laze within the den after the hunt, he gave a long exhale. "Have been for a few months now."

"Gotcha."

"We're still friends though, so don't even think about sniffing after her again."

"I ain't about to, Dog Breath," Kouga flashed him a wolfish grin, slowly sobering, "you wanna talk about it? Only it seems to be eatin' at ya."

Running a hand through his hair and giving a dusty sigh, Inuyasha stared blankly at the forest down below. With no other wolves around, he felt somewhat better about talking so plainly.

"Nothin' much to talk about, she's with someone else now. Seems happy."

Kouga made a noise of affirmation, showing he was listening while picking at his teeth with a pinky.

"I've got a crappy track record with relationships."

"You've got a crappy track record with women, yeah."

Inuyasha whipped his head back to stare at Kouga, wondering what he meant by that. If he meant what Inuyasha thought he meant.

Kouga remained in a reclining position, meeting his gaze easily. The late afternoon sun touched his skin, giving it a warm glow, hooded eyes seeming to darken. "You ever think about trying to be with someone else, rather than pining after the same soul over and over?"

Inuyasha's lips thinned, cheeks heating.

"I dunno. I was with Kikyo and then after being sealed to the tree- I woke up and met Kagome like no time had passed," he grunted. This would usually be the part where he clamped up. He didn't like talking about something so vulnerable. Self-preservation had taught him not to divulge too much, even to friends like Kagome. Kouga could easily mock him. However…

Looking over, no sinister motivation seemed to compel the wolf. He was genuinely interested. Inuyasha's insides screamed at him as he reluctantly continued. "It was like… it made sense to be with her, but I barely had a chance to process losing Kikyo. Things just kinda happened," he shook his head slightly. "Startin' fresh? Sounds like a fairy tale."

Kouga chuckled deeply, causing Inuyasha's ears to twitch again. His stomach did a nervous flip, but there was no cruelty in that rich tone. "Kinda set in your ways, huh? You're like a human in that respect."

"Keh, well what about you? Been with anyone recently?" Inuyasha asked flatly. He wasn't fishing or anything.

Kouga stretched languidly, yawning and exposing sharp-pointed canines. Blunt claws flexed wide, before curling into his palms again. "Nothing permanent. My last 'relationship' was with a guy for a couple of weeks. Just casual stuff. Heh, bet that's unthinkable to you, right?"

Inuyasha bristled, cheeks reddening. He tossed his head and huffed in answer.

"Oi, I don't mean anything by it. I think it's great you're such a loyal pup and have soul-consuming relationships instead of flings. Still, it sounds kind of exhausting to me," the wolf shrugged.

"I thought 'wolves mated for life', you sure tried that line on Kagome."

"We do," Kouga muttered, looking at him, "but only after we find someone special. We got an expression, us wolves. It basically translates to 'my heart and liver.' You gotta find someone that really fits your needs, who you pursue like they're a missing organ inside you. Till we find our chosen one, we're free to pursue who we want."

Inuyasha snorted, "and Kagome was that person to you?" he drawled sarcastically.

Kouga shrugged, not catching it. His earnest, blunt disposition was somewhat refreshing, if Inuyasha were being honest. "I figured so. But after three years of thinking about it, I kinda dove headfirst into loving her without really knowing her. I pursued her so hard that I forgot to think about why I was even running."

Unbidden, a smile came to the Hanyou's mouth, a fang hooking over his lip. He chuckled, eyes warming. Something heavy lifted from his shoulders. "We're both dumbasses," he said, golden eyes dancing. It felt kind of good to not be alone in that. To know they both should've done better.

Kouga blinked, gaze roving over his face. Slowly, he gave an answering, amiable smile. "You get a snaggle-tooth when you grin," he pointed out teasingly. "It's cute."

"Don't think you can flirt with me just because we bonded for a second, wolf," Inuyasha rolled his eyes and forcefully snuffed out his grin.

"No I'm gonna," Kouga chuckled, tail thumping beside him.

Something dissuaded the Hanyou from hotly shutting this down. His heart sat a little lighter in his chest, shoulders relaxed. If the dumbass wanted to keep saying stupid shit, who was he to stop him?

----

After that day, Inuyasha resolved to stay- at least until he caught a kill quicker than the wolves during a hunt.

Kouga became somewhat more shameless and flirty. It started out subtle. Well, subtle for Kouga.

One time, Inuyasha had leisurely taken a sip of his drink, setting it down and not noticing the wolf sit beside him. Kouga then proceeded to pick it up.

He crooked his wrist as he lifted the cup so that his lips landed squarely over the same place Inuyasha's had just occupied. He'd performed the manoeuvre so quickly that Inuyasha wasn't sure at first of what he'd seen. But as Kouga drank, he glanced at him, and Inuyasha knew then that the move had been intentional.

There were other small, maddening things. Kouga's tail brushing against his hip in passing. How he always brought over a slab of meat from a fresh kill to Inuyasha first during evening meals. How he offered over and over to take a 'friendly' dip in the waterfall together.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes at the attention. It never strayed too far into 'Miroku' territory, but it also wasn't something to take it seriously. The other wolves by now had caught on and sometimes teased their leader. Kouga laughed it off yet continued undaunted. When he next offered Inuyasha a pot, the Hanyou blinked.

"Are those stingers?" he grunted.

Sure enough, bee stings dotted bronze skin. The idiot hadn't removed the stingers from his hand.

The wolf chuckled, gesturing to the covered pot. "Ya mentioned that honey goes well with meat, so I got some for you."

Staring and feeling weird again, Inuyasha heaved a sigh and grabbed Kouga by the wrist, tugging him to kneel beside him. "Hold still, idiot. Do your feet run away with your brain or somethin'? You have to take these out," he bent over his hand, clawed fingers grasping a stinger.

"I was just eager to get it back to y- OW!"

Huffing, the Hanyou continued in his task, ignoring the whimpering demon. Despite his gruffness however, he leaned Kouga's arm over his knee, one hand gripping the back of the wolf's to keep it steady. He could feel Kouga's sharp inhale close to his cheek.

Finally removing the last of the stingers, Inuyasha's dog demon side betrayed him. As natural as breathing; he'd bent his head and swiped a careful tongue over a red sore to soothe the wound unthinkingly. Human embarrassment kicked in then, and he dropped Kouga's wrist like a rock, lurching back and standing.

"There! Tend to your own damn hand now!"

A ripple of laughter washed over the pack as Inuyasha stormed away, leaving Kouga to stare at the spot of saliva on his hand like it were a dewy jewel.

---

When next hunting, Inuyasha set off on his own under cloudy skies. He didn't keep track of the mass of wolves flooding the forest. Closing his eyes and removing the robe of the fire-rat to leave him in his white underlayer, he sank into a crouch. Burying Tetsusaiga somewhere safe at the base of a tree, he exhaled. The hanyou then began the process of shedding.

Shedding didn't entail fur. Rather, for him, it meant shaking off the layers of bullshit that weighed on his mind. He even stopped thinking about himself as a person. His mind turned blank, running through the forest like an animal.

He hadn't hunted via pure instinct in so long. He forgot how to speak with a human tongue, letting out grunts and growls. Saliva pooled in his mouth. Unknowingly, golden eyes tinged red. Faint markings cut across his cheeks. Fangs and claws elongated, youki pounding through his system with every thunder of his heartbeat.

A hare darted out from the bushes- and Inuyasha lunged.

He was barely aware of Kouga looping closer until he jogged out from the trees. "Hey, mutt- no luck for us today. Think that last hunt scared the herd too far awa-"

The creature hunched over spun around, a mangled kill hanging limp from his mouth. It hit the ground with a sickening thud as long white hair bristled, puffing up. A deep, rumbling snarl deafened Kouga's ears.

Inuyasha gazed at him, unblinking, panting with ragged breaths.

Kouga stopped and stared. Unbidden, the wilder, fiercer side of his nature reared its head. Teeth and claws gleamed, interest piqued.

However, something was wrong.

Inuyasha gasped and grunted, bending low and whimpering with pain. His body began fighting with itself, his demon blood coursing too strong for his hanyou form to withstand.

Kouga didn't really know anything about hanyou kind. However, he knew enough about the situation to realise a particular sword was missing from Inuyasha's hip. Turning tail and hurrying away, it was a simple matter of tracking Inuyasha's scent all the way to the base of a tree.

The fog cleared from crimson eyes, and Inuyasha blinked, panting. He flexed his shaking hand around a muddied Tetsusaiga, the partial transformation leaving him worn and ragged.

Kouga was squatting next to him. Concern probably wasn't the right word for it, but he gazed at him seriously for a moment before standing.

"Don't do stupid stuff just to win bets, Mutt Face."

Coughing, Inuyasha slowly adjusted back into his old senses, gripping his sword so tight his knuckles bled white. "Yeah... fine, whatever... Mangey Wolf."

----

The 'incident' as Kouga called it was not an isolated one in terms of throwing him for a damn loop. After bathing at the waterfall in a nice, refreshing midday dip, Kouga noticed an absence immediately.

"Where's Inuyasha?"

Ginta looked up from polishing some armour.

"I'm not sure. He started getting fidgety and sniffed around- then he looked at the sky and took off without a word to anyone. I think he looked a bit pale."

Kouga frowned. In a few hours, it would get dark. Tracking him would be more difficult.

Wasting no time, Kouga lept from their den, sailing down the side of the rocky mountain face. His black hair and wolf tail flew up to flutter in the breeze. "Be back later!" he called, ignoring Ginta's confusion.

Bursting into a mini tornado of power, Kouga started running, lifting his nose to scent the air. Locating Inuyasha's unique smell, he sprinted into the gloom of the trees. It seemed the Hanyou hadn't wanted to be found. His scent zig-zagged everywhere, even travelling upriver, perhaps intending to lose anyone tracking him.

Kouga smirked. As if that would work on a full demon.

By the time dusk settled in, however, Kouga felt antsy. Still no sign of the mutt, and it was getting dark. Even his scent had become strange and diluted.

Stopping beneath the canopy of trees and frowning, Kouga shifted his attention to the waning light above. The moon was out, but faint.

Kouga's eyes widened slightly. A new moon.

Hearing a sigh and the crunch of weight shifting on dried leaves, Kouga turned, nose twitching.

A willow tree sat relatively still and serene, located near some stretch of water. Weeping, draping branches were parted by Kouga's rough palms. He peered into the shadows behind the sweeping curtain, finding a familiar face.

Inuyasha stood, eyes incredibly dark. Midnight locks of hair split down broad shoulders. He stood weary and watchful, gripping a useless Tetsusaiga.

"What are you doing here?" Inuyasha muttered.

Kouga gave a look, as though it should be obvious, stepping into his private space beneath the darkening tree. "I came here to find ya, obviously."

Dark eyes widened slightly at his blunt honesty. Sighing anew, Inuyasha rubbed at his forehead. "Dumbass. I'm guessing you forgot what night I transform despite seeing it yourself before?"

"Kinda," the wolf demon shrugged, resting both hands on his hips and walking around the tree, glancing at the fresh kill of a rabbit. "Glad ya fed yourself at least. C'mon, let's go back before we lose any more light. Unless of course you wanna stumble around in the dark, forcing me to hold your hand?" he teased.

Inuyasha gazed back soberly, causing the mirth to leave Kouga's eyes. Both fell quiet.

As a human, Inuyasha lost many things. Animal ears, a keen sense of smell, golden irises that gleamed like a treasure trove. He also lost a certain harshness. The thick wall of defence usually built up around his heart had crumbled.

Like this, Inuyasha looked much softer. In more ways than one.

"I don't want to go back looking like this," Inuyasha muttered. "And neither do you."

"What're you yappin' about?"

Bushy brows pulled down, and he backed up slightly. "Listen, you've had your fun little charity experience including a Hanyou in your shit, but I know how full demon society works. I'm not stupid. You're all fine with me hanging around as some little project to measure yourselves against, but when it comes down to it, you don't want to confront this part."

Kouga's heavy brows pulled down, a sneer marring his lips. "Ah, I get it. Ya think my pack will mock you because it's your human night? You're a fucking idiot," he sighed. "I was in love with Kagome. Ya think anyone's gonna say shit? Admit it, you just feel vulnerable because you got baby skin and no fangs."

Inuyasha's expression flickered; an open book. His hands balled into fists, stubbornness setting his mouth into a thin, grim line.

Kouga gave an exaggerated sigh, grabbing his arm, "quit bein' stubborn-"

Yanking himself free, Inuyasha gave a poor imitation of a snarl, exposing blunt teeth. "Get lost!"

Growling, Kouga blurred in the air- appearing behind him and grabbing the failing human around the waist- lifting so that his kicking feet left the ground. "We're going back, it's cold out! Your baby skinned, barely furred ass will catch a cold, and I ain't dealing with that!" he started walking.

With a yowl of outrage, Inuyasha swung his elbow back into Kouga's face. With a grunt, he was released, only for the two to snarl and grapple once again. Heels dug into mud- foreheads smacked, palms clasped and muscles strained on Inuyasha's end to match the power of a demon, failing. Kouga licked at his bleeding nose, before giving a hard shove. Landing on forest ground and losing themselves in senseless scrapping, sharp teeth closed around a curved ear.

Inuyasha yelped, dark eyes flying wide. Did he just?-

He had! Kouga had reprimanded him like a damn pack member.

Sensation burst within his chest, boiling over, consuming. He didn't know how to react to it. Therefore, Inuyasha didn't stop to think about his actions. When drowning in feeling, his mind turned blank, and he acted on impulse.

Curling coarse fingers in dark hair and latching tight- he yanked Kouga down by the back of the neck- mouths colliding.

Teeth knocked. Lips strained against hard pressure. Inuyasha's grip tugged Kouga's hair tight against his scalp. It was painful. It was uncomfortable. It was brilliant.

The wolf demon reeled, inhaling hard through his nostrils. His senses flooded with Inuyasha's human scent.

There was a reason Kagome's slap had cemented her into Kouga's head as a potential mate. He wasn't used to being opposed. Everyone listened to him, and he talked freely. But a push back, a stubborn, fierce 'no!' made his world tilt on its axis. It was exactly what he needed. Someone to raise their voice and get his attention. An opposing view to clash with his own. That was what leaders primarily looked for in partners, not meek obedient types.

And Kouga couldn't say he personally disliked it either.

Releasing him, Inuyasha panted. His face suddenly paled, realisation dawning. "Shit," he muttered, drawing back and falling silent.

Kouga opened his mouth, then closed it. There were no words he could scramble together in his currently fried brain. What he did know- was that the weather still felt chilly, and Inuyasha needed a place to sleep. He kind of felt the desire to prod for more, but judging by Inuyasha's closed off, guarded look, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

They picked themselves up, standing. Inuyasha wiped some mud from his ashen cheek.

"You won't come back to the pack tonight, right?" Kouga asked.

Mild relief seemed to touch his features as he nodded glumly.

"Gotcha, well, don't kick up a fuss. I'll take ya somewhere else for the night," the wolf demon stepped away, youki swirling around his form, tumbling faster into a fierce gust. Inuyasha watched as a 10ft tall dark-furred wolf eventually lept out of the whirlwind. Kouga then knelt down as best he could, jerking his head to indicate Inuyasha climb on.

"You've got to be kiddin' me?" he grumbled. It didn't take much prompting for him to give in, burned out from nerves and high tension. The new moon always messed everything up.

Grasping onto thick, feathery fur, Inuyasha climbed onto his back, sitting behind Kouga's shoulder blades. The wolf demon flashed him a toothy smile, pushing off starting to run.

Gaping and swaying from the momentum, Inuyasha ducked down and gripped his hackles. Kouga talked a lot of shit, but he got one thing right; he was fucking fast.

Muscles coiled and shifted, prowling through dense undergrowth with quick footfalls. Kouga panted softly, paws thundering over chilled forest floor, scattering leaves.

Inuyasha ducked to avoid a few low-hanging branches, feeling the wolf's sturdiness and warm form beneath him. Despite being in human form with his dulled, dim senses, the silence of the forest combined with Kouga's rhythmic noises made him feel strangely wild yet lulled. He was a creature again, not a man nor demon. It comforted him.

Kouga's breath fanned out in visible puffs of curling smoke by the time they reached an abandoned cave beneath a slightly upturned tree- it's hanging, frozen roots slightly obscuring the entrance. Snowdrops littered the ground- crunching under Inuyasha's feet as he dismounted and quietly entered.

More snowdrops awaited him inside the mouth of the cave, and he sank down exhaustedly into the flowers, cheek cushioned by soft petals.

Kouga huffed, staring down at Inuyasha's near motionless body. Shifting, he settled beside him, acting as a shield against the elements.

Inuyasha's feet were turning blue. Knowing he'd probably be insecure about holding onto him in inhuman form, the wolf shifted closer, bumping against his side.

Making a tired noise, a dark brown eye cracked open. With a sigh- Inuyasha's coarse hands met Kouga's fur, settling closer into the mass of warmth. "This means nothing," came his muffled voice.

Resting his head upon enormous paws, Kouga ignored this, tail thumping slightly behind him.

"Thanks for... coming to get me."

At that, Kouga stiffened with surprise, lifting his head to look at him.

Inuyasha's breaths evened out, and in the quiet hush that followed, it was difficult not to notice how his dark hair seemed to mesh and meld so naturally into the wolf demon's own black fur.

In the morning it would be harder still not to stare at sprawling wisps of long white hair blending into the snowdrops.

Kouga's blue eyes blinked, nose twitching. It was then he realised he was probably in danger of something much larger than either of them could've expected.

----

Predictably, Inuyasha acted as though nothing had happened.

He stuck around the wolves for a few days longer, before finally approaching Kouga, arms thrust inside trailing sleeves.

"So… gonna be headin' out soon."

Kouga continued sharpening his knife. He then stood, rolling one shoulder and keeping his tone casual.

"For good?"

"Yeah," Inuyasha muttered, face guarded. "No point in sticking around here any longer than I need to. Keh, I ain't in the habit of getting in people's way."

Kouga heaved a sigh, putting the knife away and folding his arms, walking from the cave and out into bright sunlight. Rounding one side of the mountain and following a rocky trail, his tail swished with agitation. "You ain't in the way, Dog Breath. I made that pretty clear. You wanna talk about the kiss or not?"

Inuyasha made a noise behind him. He then scrambled for something to say, "we don't gotta talk about it! Weird shit happens when I turn human! Stuff I wouldn't usually do-"

Kouga cut him off with a dramatically loud groan, turning on his heel to face him. Inuyasha jumped, feet skidding to bring him to a stop- rocking forward with momentum and ending up nose to nose with the wolf.

Cobalt blue eyes remained flat, "dunno how Kagome put up with your damn wishy-washy ass. I ain't about to listen to that crap when my nose can sniff out lies unlike her. Since you're so bad at this, I guess I'll be the mature one; and that's how ya know you're being an idiot, stupid mutt."

Inuyasha blinked, opening his mouth with an irate expression.

"I want ya to stay," Kouga said bluntly. "The kiss didn't bother me. In fact, I kinda liked it and I'm open to doing more of that stuff, weird as it sounds saying it out loud. I was into it," he shrugged broad shoulders. "But if you're too busy getting yourself worked up about feeling like an outsider, that's up to you. As pack leader, I'm telling you you've got a place here, dumbass. You can quit being a lone wolf if you want to. My group won't mind."

Inuyasha stared at him, completely stunned. He put a little distance between them, ears pressing flat.

His expression rapidly changed with a multitude of conflicting thoughts. He opened and closed his mouth, eyes flickering to the scenery, to the rocks, to their bare feet. Heavy brows drew down.

Kouga sighed and scratched his pointed ear, figuring he'd be stubborn about it. Not like he could force him to stay. But still… an odd sense of disappointment weighed in his chest. He'd had fun. He'd had a lot of fun with him around.

"I don't do casual," came Inuyasha's reluctant reply.

Kouga's brows rose. Oh. That's what he'd been having reservations about?

"Fuck- I'm bad at this," the hanyou gazed stubbornly at the horizon, cheeks heating. Hands curled into fists at his side.

Blinking, Kouga let out a rasping chuckle, shoulders shaking. It immediately won him Inuyasha's attention. "You really are," he agreed, tone turning into a teasing one. "I didn't know you were that into me."

Growling and bristling, Inuyasha seemed to assume he was laughing at him, so Kouga held up a hand. He then used it to grab hold of the robe of the fire rat, bridging the distance between them.

Inuyasha's breath rushed out of his nose, exhaling sharply. He froze, becoming completely still. Kouga's mouth remained against his in a firm kiss, before shifting into a yielding one, eventually drawing away.

Kouga grinned, "if you wanna get stuck with me, then I'm totally capable of being serious too."

Inuyasha slowly relaxed. He snorted, lips quirking as golden eyes warmed. "Dumbass," he mumbled, tugging him back in again. This time Kouga's ensuing chuckle came out muffled against his lips.

"Heh, you really do have dog breath."

"Do I gotta keep shutting you up?"

Kouga lifted a shoulder, flashing him a wolfish grin, tail thwacking his thigh. "If that's the method you're going with to do it, I guess so."

Inuyasha's gaze flattened, feeling large hands slide around him to rest on his shoulder blades. Oddly comforting. The warmth of a wolf was a strange, foreign thing, but one he could get used to. Kouga had a strong scent. He could feel it saturating his clothes. The robe of the fire-rat would reek for weeks.

And that was okay too.

Their noses bumped, and they huffed with amusement, teeth nipping. They'd be clumsy for a while, but sticking around suddenly didn't sound so heavy. Inuyasha resolved to stay for a few more weeks.

And then maybe he'd linger for a little while after that too.

---

The wolves always howled in their true forms, conveying their love, heartbreak, hunger, stories and other things into their haunting songs. They were beautiful, powerful, twisting, waxing poetic about nothing and everything.

Inuyasha stepped out onto the summit of their mountain that they gathered upon. When he threw back his head and howled suddenly, it startled the others out of their songs.

His voice strained, held back by untrained vocal cords. It wasn't wild enough and held no finesse, too tempered by humanity. Imperfect.

Kouga beamed upon hearing it. He then transformed, black silky fur receding.

Throwing his head back, he let out a loud howl, hair dancing in the breeze. Inuyasha finished and looked at him breathlessly, heart drumming loudly. His throat hurt, cheeks stinging from the cold bite in the air. It felt fucking fantastic.

The rest of the wolf pack demons followed suit, transforming into their mockery of human appearances. Their inhuman forms joined in, baying with hoarse, powerful voices.

If someone had happened upon the pack that night, they'd have found the wolves packed in close, huddling for warmth in their cave. And at the very centre of the pack would be one hanyou, nestled amongst their slumbering, monstrous forms, nose buried into windswept fur, heart in sync with theirs.

---

It would be a few weeks later when Inuyasha would return to Kaede's village. It had been two months since he'd left.

Kouga jogged around him on the trail, sniffing the air and chattering animatedly. He loved travelling. Inuyasha grunted a few replies but was content to listen to him. It kept his mind off inevitably seeing a certain someone again.

That person seemed to spot them almost immediately as they approached the village.

Kagome came rushing over, causing Kouga to grin and call a greeting- his words going completely ignored as the miko drew back her hand.

Inuyasha blinked at the ensuing slap. His cheek stung like hell.

Salt peppered the air then, causing guilt to sink heavy into his gut.

"H-how dare you!" Kagome's watery eyes blazed. "You disappear for months- without a word to anyone?!- and then just swan back here like nothing happened? I searched for you! Do you have any idea how WORRIED I was? You jerk! You're such an absolute JERK!"

Inuyasha slowly stepped closer and brought her into a hug just as she burst into tears.

Kagome thumped her fists weakly against his chest, shuddering and prattling nonsense.

"I just… needed to get away," Inuyasha muttered, ears pressed back tight to his skull. "Didn't feel right being here."

Letting out a rush of hot air, Kagome drew back slightly to look at him. "N-nothing had to change. I told you that," she hiccuped. "Just because I'm in a relationship with someone else- it doesn't affect us. We're still friends. Your place is here. Miroku, Sango and Shippo were worried too."

"They were?"

They'd seemed so busy with their own lives before. Too busy to hang out with him- or maybe he'd been alone in thinking that? Had he put distance between them unknowingly because they'd all changed but he'd stayed the same?

"Idiot," Kagome and Kouga sighed together.

Noticing their wolf companion, Kagome wiped her tears and turned to Kouga. She gave him a much gentler reception, hugging him tight with gratitude.

"So he was with you the whole time? Thank you for looking out for him, Kouga."

"Heh, no worries. It's actually been pretty fun."

Kagome pulled back and rose a brow, glancing between them. "Really? You two haven't been fighting?"

"Sometimes," Inuyasha scratched his nose, combing some claws through his hair. "That hasn't been so bad either, though."

Completely lost, Kagome tilted her head. She then located a hickey on Inuyasha's neck, the skin bruised and red. She reddened herself, meeting Inuyasha's awkward gaze.

"Oh," she put the pieces together slowly. "So… are you just visiting?" she asked quietly.

Inuyasha nodded slowly. "Yeah. I got…" he took a breath, words faltering. He then continued, voice full of conviction. "I got a place to return to now. The wolves ain't a bad bunch to stay with now that my nose has adjusted to their damn smell."

"Hey-" Kouga scoffed.

"I'll keep coming back here though," he continued. "I'm just-"

"It's okay," Kagome soothed. "That makes me really happy to hear. Sometimes new things are good. Different, but good."

It was the same thing she'd said when trying to talk to him about her new relationship. Inuyasha nodded slightly, rendered mute by the heaviness of her words. Change was inevitable. It had freaked him out enough to run from the only real family he'd ever known.

Sadness flitted through her gaze before acceptance gentled matured features. Ageing had changed her too. That was partly why they'd broken up as quickly as they had. They were too different now than how they'd been at 15, swept up in a whirlwind teen romance. There was a sadness in never being able to return to their glory days, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to move on.

Kagome scrubbed at her eyes and smiled for him. She always smiled when he needed it most. Grabbing both of their coarse hands, she tugged. "C'mon, everyone will be wanting to catch up. There's also some ramen I saved with your name on it."

Inuyasha's slack fingers twitched in her hold. He then adjusted them, squeezing her hand. Something brazen, fragile and guarded in his heart soothed and healed. His shoulders relaxed. Finally, he felt a sense of peace sweep over him that he hadn't experienced for some time; ever since they'd been flung out of orbit from their romance and back into friendship.

Meeting Kouga's amiable, enthusiastic gaze, Inuyasha bit back a snort. Golden eyes danced, lips twitching- before tilting up. A fang hooked over his bottom lip, snaggle-tooth peering out.

---

End

[beauregard-s]

Take The Wheel (Richie Tozier x Reader)

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader (aged up)

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: NSFW. Sex, Oral (fem receiving), cursing and light dirty talking. Also mentions of alcohol.

Anon said:  “ alright for whatever reason I can only ever think of Richie concepts but that's okay he's my boy :0 Anyway, So like a Richie x Reader smut where Richie is teaching the reader to drive in an empty parking lot and he sits them in his lap so they're both in the drivers seat. And he gets a boner and then car sex boom that's the concept ”

A/n: I must say it’s some *chef’s kiss* concept. I really liked this one, and had a lot of Cigarettes After Sex’s help to write it lol. Hope I fulfilled your expectations, my dear anon.

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“Come on, doll, it’s your eighteen!”

“I already said no, Richie.”

It’s been years since you both realized you were too big to share the old hammock anymore, but you acted like it wasn’t an important detail. You and Richie had spent the afternoon laying there, he previously napping and now smoking a cigarette while you went through a thriller book Ben had lent you a couple weeks before and you were taking too long to return to him. 

Richie had his long hanging down, foot on the floor and here and there he’d swing you both from side to side, softly, in a way the had your eyelids fighting not to shut close. 

“What are you doing when I’m not around, then?” He teased once more, and it was enough for you to softly hit his ribs with your bare foot, since you two were so tangled in such little space that your legs rested by his sides.

“You’ll always be around, Trashmouth.”

“Maybe I won’t...” He blew smoke through his parted lips when you shoot a look, narrowing your eyes at him from over the book. The little lopsided smile he had made your insides tingle. 

Next week you’d turn eighteen and, until present days, you had not learned how to drive. That’d be a result of very strict and overprotective parents, alongside a not so irrational - in your thoughts -, but for sure overscaled fear of taking the steering wheel. 

Usually, Richie was the one driving you around on his beat-up truck, blasting Tears For Fears, an arm slung out of his window. Sometimes it was Stan or Bill, Mike and Ben were busier but they were always down to give you a ride if you needed it. Beverly was a heckin' reckless driver, but she was the one who usually took you shopping and even Eddie had rebelled against Sonia Kaspbrak to get his license. 

You were the last “baby” among the grown-ups.  

“Come on, y/n, I can teach you. I’m the best driver-”

“Stan is the best driver,” you corrected.

“Stan is bullshit!” he went, now pointing at you with his lit cigarette. “And you shall never say such fallacy again.”

You laughed his fake offended tone off, but, yeah, he was right. Stan could be the most prudent one, but he was too prudent even for your coward standards. Richie was, indeed, the best driver. Reckless, but not too reckless at the point of almost run over people on the street - like Bev did at least a couple times -, also he was surprisingly skilled, but had some worrisome courage, for sure. And he had got a few speed tickets, yeah, but he always knew what he was doing. 

Those facts, plus the way he kept looking and expecting at you made you roll your eyes and break.

“Fine, Tozier,” it was enough for his smile to widen up “but don’t blame me if I shove your car through a wall or something.”

He laughed and tickled your feet by his side, what made you jump on your place and kick him harder than the last time, earning a grunt of pain from him.

“Don’t worry, toots. I got you.”

**

It was an empty and probably abandoned parking lot behind the library. What on Earth could go wrong?

That was exactly what you thought when Richie set things up the last day, but, now, when you looked blankly at his truck parked there, with its doors opened, just waiting for you, it didn’t seem such a good idea anymore.

“Richie...” 

“No fucking way, doll, it’s the tenth time you call out for my name, not that I’m complaining.”

You threw him a pissed look, but of course it wouldn’t do any harm on those mocking eyes of his. But you looked better at Richie, right there under the golden hour light. His dark curls messed by his fingers and by the breeze that gently hit you, glasses always full of fingerprints on its lenses, but not hiding his narrowed eyes due to the clarity. He seemed more freckled than ever.

All of that made you tingle inside, again. Had been like that for a while now, and every time it’d happen, every time you’d feel that weird sensation, you’d just turn away from his view, not that bold to face whatever it was.

“Come on, toots, it won’t bite you! Let’s go!”

He placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you to the driver’s side. You hopped onto the seat and Richie was so damn tall you felt you were miles away from the wheel and couldn’t even dream about reaching the pedals. He helped you adjust the seat to your height and ran around the car while you buckled your safety belt. 

“Fasten your belt.” You enjoined, the second he closed his door and looked up at you with expectation.

“For God’s sake, y/n, we’re just driving around the lot,” he scoffed, and you rolled your eyes. “Easy now. It’s no big deal, come on, start the car.”

Maybe you’d be able to focus and make your legs stop shaking, but Richie’s hand reaching for your thigh to supposedly soothe you down didn’t make it possible. And he stayed just like that when you turned the keys and the truck roared.

“Okay, now let’s switch the gear and loosen the handbrake...”

You had no idea of the amount of work involving getting a car to move. Richie kept instructing you and, for your disbelief, yes, he was a good teacher. He was clear as water when he told you what to do, and his voice went down to a soft and patient tone that made the tingling feeling hit you wave after wave. But even like that, you couldn’t put the thing on the road. The engine kept dying and you just weren’t coordinated enough to get it to move.

Richie and you switched places and he tried to teach you through visuals, letting you watch him as he drove around. And you really tried to. You focused on his hands but you wouldn’t absorb his moves. You’d just absorb how he firmly gripped onto the wheel and how skilled he moved the gear around. You tried to learn from his feet pressing the pedals, but your eyes would trail up to his sculpted side profile in the fading, cold light. How his lips looked soft, talking to you and dictating how you’d have to switch the gear every time the engine roared in en specific pleading way.

But you were fucking drooling over how handsome Richie Tozier was.

Before you had a chance to actually start paying attention to the mechanisms, he stopped the car like it all was the easiest thing. “See? Just like learning how to ride a bicycle.”

You tittered, not sure if you couldn’t keep up with all the steps on properly driving because there were a lot of them, or only because you just could take your eyes off Richie himself. 

“I don’t know... I mean, I think I just can’t coordinate enough,” you shrugged.

He shushed you immediately.

“No fucking way! You’re learning how to drive, and I’m teaching you, doll!” he raised his brows, his determination making you laugh again. Richie bit down his lip for a while, sitting sideways on the seat so he could face you.

“Do you want to sit on my lap, then? So I can help you?”

You slowly raised a brow and your brain sent off the red alert with a neon sign of “bad idea”.

“How messed up could this be?” You sneered.

“Not messed up at all, that’s actually how I first learn how to drive,” he smirked.

“Richie, you were ten, and no, pretending you’re driving isn’t learning how to drive,” you laughed.

You remembered that story very well, how Mr. Tozier would put Richie on his lap while driving around safe places when he was a little boy. But now this was a whole, dissimilar situation. 

Richie rolled his eyes, leaning in towards you, and you swore you were all hooded eyes at him. 

“Come on, doll, just like the truck, I won’t bite you.”

The red alert in your head went off even louder, but, still, with him that close and with the evening’s darkness engulfing both of you, your lips had a different plan than your mind.

“Okay...” it was what scaped through them.

And the way Richie smiled at that answer warmed your heart beyond what was acceptable. 

You unbuckled your belt as he pushed his seat back and even like that, fitting in between him and the wheel was a difficult task. You propped yourself up from the passenger seat, passing a leg over the gearstick to sit it between his. You both were a mess of legs and arms.

“Okay, toots, careful now-fuck!”

“Holyshit, Richie, did I hit you?”

“No, just my thigh. Big Richie’s okay...”

“I hate you.”

You managed to settle down to his lap, not too comfortably, but enough to access everything around you. To feel all of him beneath you.

“No way, sugar, you love me,” he whispered from behind, very close to your ear.

With a simple turn of neck, you could see Richie over your shoulder, and there was where he rested his chin. He took your left hand and placed it on the wheel, under his own. Your right hands together met the gear stick. 

“I’m starting the car now,” he warned. His hand left yours just for a moment, and his truck roared again. It vibrated slightly and that way you couldn’t help to friction down against Richie’s lap.

You thought you felt him stiffening up, but soon enough his hand was back over yours and he helped you switching the gear. 

“Now can I speed up?” You asked, trying your best to don’t look back at him, or else your lips would almost touch.

“Yeah, slowly. And keep those beautiful eyes on the road, toots.”

You did as he told you, slowly pressed your foot down the accelerator, and the truck slowly and finally left its spot under your riding.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was something really childish to do, but it was unconscious. Richie kept his right hand over yours, helping you through the gears correctly, his left one was supposed to guide the wheel with you, but as soon as he heard your giggles he let go, his arm resting lazily on his open window.

You only sped up to an acceptable speed to keep during a parking lot training, but it was enough for a breeze to blow through the open windows. You felt somehow proud, even if you have been strolling for five minutes in circles behind the library. You didn’t even notice Richie letting go of the bare control he had, but you were pretty aware of his hands falling down to rest on your thighs.

And you were pretty aware of the forming hardness underneath you. You could feel him, and every time you made a turn your hips would be dragged around due to physics causes you never understood while in high school. Every time that happened you could hear Richie sighing really close to your neck.

His thumbs traced circles against the skin of your thighs, right where it met the hem of your skirt. You were already relaxed back against him by now.

“I’m so sorry, toots...” You heard both a certain embarrassment, but also some guts in his voice. He was also pretty aware of what was happening, but you wondered if he was aware of the growing heat inside your chest, and the wetness inside your panties.

Or if he was aware of the way you “helped” physics by dragging your hips down onto his.

“Don’t be, Rich.” You muttered.

His hands went for yours again, and his feet took the place yours once had. Richie himself stopped the car and as soon as he turned the motor down you noticed how silent it was because he didn’t turn on the radio earlier, probably because he didn’t want to distract you.

But he ended up doing way more than that.

It was starting to get dark, maybe a little too dark. Dark in a level that’d be perfect to do hidden things and they’d remain safe under its cover. Maybe that was why you felt it was safe enough to turn your body slightly to the side, just enough to face Richie, and you two kissed in the dim light.

No words needed, not a single trace of hesitation because you both knew you'd been aching for this for a long time now. You parted your lips under his tongue insistence within time, tried to fought him for dominance. Absurdly unsuccessful that was. Richie had a hand through your hair, slightly pulling it so you couldn’t turn your face away from him. Little did he know you wouldn’t do that anyway. 

He was the one who pulled away after a while. You could tell he was smirking, eyes on yours, and then down to check on your already slightly kiss-bruised lips. He leaned in then, his nose softly brushing all the way up your neck, sending goosebumps through your spine just so he could talk lowly in your ear.

“I want you in the backseat, y/n/n.” 

You didn't know if it was how he sounded deep, or how he called you by the nickname that only he’d call you, nothing generical, but he made you whimper untouched. You just nodded and Richie pushed you off his lap gently, helping you to pass through the front seats.

You didn’t think car sex was comfortable at all, having experienced it in other guys’ sedans, but Richie’s car got some valuable space. It was enough for you to be dragged into Richie’s lap without your head bumping into the ceiling, as soon as he joined you there, kissing you as his life depended on it.

Richie smelled like smoke and tasted like mint chapstick and cola, and the way he held you so tightly against him was driving you insane alone. Slowly the darkness was taking over and you couldn’t see much of him, but you could feel him everywhere. Hands on your hips and crawling up your sides, underneath your top inch by inch. You couldn’t help to grind your hips down against his, earning yourself a low grunt every time you did that.

It was happening, and you couldn’t believe it. Richie and you've been friends over the time, but you’d be lying if you said you never looked at him in a messed up way, here and there. Mainly when you’d get drunk together in parties and he started to get extra flirty towards your horny self. And now, what you have fantasized about was happening.

“I want you down on me so bad...” You moaned.

You widened your eyes because it wasn’t meant to escape your lips like that. But it did and made Richie pull away from the spot he had been kissing on your neck, looking up at you.

You expected him to laugh or scoff, but he raised a brow slightly, lips curving in a way that had your legs weak.

“Don’t ask me twice, doll.” He mumbled.

Richie held you by your thighs before pushing you down to the seat. You propped yourself up to rest your back against the side of the car, ready to push shoes and clothes off, but he got different plans. Richie made his best to fit properly in between your legs, hands pushing your skirt up so it was lumping around your waist.

With no warning, Richie just pulled your panties down your legs, taking them off skillfully and shoving them in his pocket. With a smirk, he leaned himself down on you, drawing a bold lick all the way up from your slit to your clit.

You moaned louder than would be safe. Just the vision of Richie in between your thighs like that was enough to make you purr like a kitten, but the way he kept his eyes up just to watch what he was doing to you was top-shelf.

His hands were on your thighs, keeping you as spread for him as the space allowed, tongue flicking through your wet folds. And the motherfucker dared to hum against you.

“Fuck, y/n/n... How can you taste so good, doll?”

Your chest weaved up and down as you panted, a complete moaning mess. Your hands went for Richie’s curls, messing them up even more as he took turns closing his eyes to savor you, and then looking up at your blank pleasured face.

“Richie...” You cried out.

He pulled away for a second, thumb still rubbing circles on your clit to keep your pace.

“What, babe, are you gonna cum for me?”

You did. As soon as he reattached his lips to your heat again, you came by his mouth only.

Richie smirked satisfied at the way your legs were shaking and your eyes shut closed, still lazily licking you down your high, and as soon as your breath calmed down he was sitting back up, pulling you into his lap again, holding you so close you lost your breath.

When you and Richie kissed again, you could still taste yourself on his lips. Your hands fumbled with his jeans, unbuckling it quickly because you needed more of him. He groaned at your eager manners, immediately bucking his hips up so you could pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs.

“Holy fuck, Richie...”

You couldn’t hold it back when you looked down at his cock, fully hard for you. Richie didn’t praise himself for nothing. You felt like some stupid depraved girl, but Richie seemed to like it judging by the melodic laugh he let out. A laugh that quickly turned into a deep moan when you took him in your hands, pumping slowly.

The way Richie’s mouth hung opened when he breathed out heavily and the sounds that came outta there made you clench around nothing. You didn’t delay much before aligning yourself over him, slowly lowering your hips.

Richie cursed out loud, hands gripping onto your waist for his life as he threw his head back. Now you were the one observing how his chest went up and down fast, how he licked his lips with eyes closed in bliss. You had all of him inside you, every inch. He was stretching you out, yes, but he felt too good filling you up like that.

Richie finally looked at you, all hooded eyes and hands going for your shirt. He lifted the fabric enough to expose your breasts, mumbling something about loving that you didn’t wear a bra much often before attaching his lips to your nipple.

Your hands on his shoulders for support must have squeezed too tightly, but he didn’t seem to notice it under the loud moans you gave him. Richie’s lips slid from a breast of yours to the other, taking a time to kiss the valley between them.

“Ride me, doll...” He softly demanded, and you did.

You held tightly onto him when you started to bounce up and down very slowly, trying to adjust to him, but as soon as you picked up your pace the previously silent and dark truck was filled with both your moans. Richie was loud and it was something you expected and now his hoarse groans only drove you closer to your high.

He gave you a hickey on your breast, right before his lips escalated to kiss and mark your neck as well.

“How good you feel around me, y/n/n...”

You melted more in his arms every time he'd fill you up, every little nibble he’d plant on the sweet spot of your neck. You felt your muscles tensing, clenching tightly around Richie’s cock right before you came undone once again.

As soon as you reached the peak, your loud moans were muffled by Richie’s hungry lips on yours. When your legs went numb, he kept thrusting up into you, hands grabbing handfuls of your ass until he came.

Richie came moaning into your mouth, while you drifted away from your orgasm and your fingers caressed back the curls that covered his face. You could barely see him by now, but the few traces you could discern made you smile numbly.

Holy shit. You were in love.

You fucked Richie in his car, and now you were in love.

No, you’ve been in love with him for a long time but only now, when the facts were spread right in front of your eyes, you admitted it. Only now, feeling the numerous small kisses he was spreading all over your shoulder and collarbone, and how his cold hands cupped your breasts gently, only now you admitted it.

Things were silent for a while, while Richie had his face buried against the crook of your neck and you still cockwarmed him. You didn’t want to leave him, you were afraid that as soon as you put yourself together, he’d check you out off his hook up list and drag you back to the friend zone.

“I fucking love you, y/n/n.”

You still breathed heavily when he whispered that, but you immediately felt like your lungs stopped working.

You pushed Richie away from you, making him look at your face in the dark, although you could only see the little reflection of his glasses.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“Nothing, I-Shit...”

“Richie.” You were serious, and that made him bite down his lips, thinking he had messed things up with you.

“I’m fucking in love with you, doll.”

You kissed him.

The second he finished that phrase you took his face in your hands and kissed him. A long, slow, and breathtaking kiss.

Richie’s arms wrapped around your waist and his glasses were for sure getting dirtier touching your face, but he didn’t care about it and nor did you.

Only your lips parted away a few moments later, but you kept your foreheads together, eyes closed and hearts going a mile a minute.

“I’m fucking in love with you too, Trashmouth” you mumbled.

You smiled in a cheesy way and somehow you knew he was doing the same.

“Although you’re a bad a drive instructor who ends up fucking your learner”

“Shut up, y/n.”

You laughed together and Richie hugged you against him. That was for sure a not recommend spot to be parked at that hour, but none of you minded that. He was still inside you and you'd keep him like that for at least some moments more because you needed your legs to stop trembling and you also needed to feel more of him against you like that.

"Rich..." You furrowed your brows lightly, curled into his chest. "Where the fuck are my panties?"

He chuckled.

"They are safe, toots. And, by the way, those are mine now."

[goldafterglow]

hold me in the meadows

Summary: You are Ezra’s dreamcatcher and he is your burrow.

Request: “The sleepy prompts!! Lovely! Can you do “I have had nightmares every night for the past three weeks and now they’re gone because of you, how did you do that?” with (can you guess??) EZRA” - the love of my life, @opheliaelysia

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k+

Tags: angst?, fluff, more metaphors that don’t mean anything, weird touching lol idk what the fuck this fic is, this is also not beta read so send the flood send the flu

Author’s Note: If you left a like or comment or reblog on Dissolve Me I’m telling you with as little shame as is humanly possible that I definitely reread it at least 3 times. Feedback means the word to me! also this was supposed to be a 500 word drabble and now it’s over 4.5k words if that tells you anything about me. I apologize in advance I think I’ve really outdone myself w/ my bullshit this time

Gif Credit: @pascvl; Also shout out to @pascalplease sorry I spammed you for nothing dsfgdsg

Ezra is staring at you.

He’d met you on one of those toxic moons, one of those deceitfully picturesque mirages where the dust glitters like lily petals but the air would kill you before you could think to appreciate it. You were a floater; a nomad with no place to call home, but you figured you liked it that way. Homes were permanent. They set lives and futures in cobblestone and trapped spirits in gated properties, keeping just about anything and everything tethered under the farce of security. Homes make paraffin casings around dragonfly wings and turn footprints to concrete. So you never had one, and you never wanted one. Ezra had found you amusing. You had found him to be better company than just yourself. So with great reluctance, you established a partnership. Not one forged in steel or bronze but something still fleeting, its true meaning always escaping your lips like a forgotten thought. It’s too much work to try and think about it anyway.

You had let him invite you to reside in his tent. It took coaxing, required copious amounts of golden honey spilling from Ezra’s tongue to get you to tenaciously stick to him, but you were no match for his silver tongue. He did everything he could to assure that this wasn’t a habitat, but merely a shelter - a thing that could be taken down and built back up somewhere else, anywhere you wanted. So you had obliged. He let you take the cot closest to the zipper door; you liked being closer to the exit, just a rotation away from being back on your feet. He tries to let you truly feel like if you wanted to escape, wanted to elope with liberty and run away from the loose bonds of the canopy, you could.

Three weeks of sleeping adjacent to him and you still don’t want to.

Ezra is used to temporary relationships. He has done his fair share of companion hopping, although he wasn’t really making an effort to do so. It scares him a little - why can’t he make anyone stay, make anything last? Partners passed him by, either to traverse on their lonesome or to stay with that greedy man in the eternal sky. Teams disbanded around him like glass castles shattering in his wake. Ezra, whether he liked it or not, was accustomed to transience.

He is not, however, accustomed to fearing that sharp brevity. Ezra is constantly on his toes around you, frequently wondering if he’s pushing you away or pulling you closer. You aren’t skittish, don’t constantly question everything he says or get offended by the sound of his voice, but he’s still scared of losing you. Every time he looks into your eyes he sees wonder, a certain fascination with life that he tries so hard to match because he wants to find things as beautiful as you do. As beautiful as you are. He wants to mis-quote your favorite novels that you force him to read so that you’ll scold him so affectionately and tell him that perhaps he had garnered a little brain damage from his previous escapades. He wants to trip over tree roots that have herniated through the soil so you can laugh at him, maybe lay there on the grass with him for a little bit. Just a little bit.

In your own mind, you are guarded. You try your very best not to get too personal, too deep, too much. Because you don’t like it when people can see your flushed, bloody insides. You just know that the moment you open your chest, someone will steal your heart right out of your rib cage and like the pass of a hummingbird, all of your secrets will be free to float in the breeze like the ashes of your lost quintessence; it’ll all be gone and then you’ll really be empty.  So how could you ever know what you mean to Ezra?

He knows what a truly locked up person looks like. He’s spent hundreds of cycles with people that don’t make a noise. He’s sat in bustling pods of people and felt like the only man in the room, like solitary confinement for his mind. No, you are not some warning-covered steel box, padlocked and duct-taped and glued shut so that even if he’s sitting right next to you, he’ll have nothing more than his own voice bounce to off of your walls and fly right back to him. You’re a music box, a gold-trimmed heart-shaped sound bottle, and he learns that if he winds you up the right way, you’ll sing so pretty for him.

He has spent so long talking, nonsensically making those arbitrary noises burst out of his throat until they lose all meaning, but finally, for the first time in so fucking long, Ezra gets to listen.

He listens to you tell him you think his hair is stupid and that sometimes he smells bad. He listens to you lament about barren dig-sites and wasted time, about how it’s so fucking hot in your suit. He listens to you fantasize about touching the trees, burying your face in your flowers and squeezing the moss in your hands. About drowning in the river so that your body is filled with the water and then rolling in the sand so that it all sticks to you and you have to dive back in to clean off. About feeling something.

Sometimes, Ezra just wants to hear something other than his own voice. And you’re the cold towel to his inflamed skin, refreshing and addictive. You’re much braver than you think, so much stronger than you give yourself credit for, because for once, Ezra can talk into the forest and know that there’s someone to listen besides the leaves. He doesn’t feel alone.

Every night, when the moon has turned its back on the narcissistic Sun and opened its arms to the thousands of other stars, each just a prick of light but understanding of their place in the tapestry of the darkness, the two of you retire to that tent. You both redress into comfortable clothes, backs turned on each other under the guise of respect, and climb into your respective cots. Ezra would turn off that shitty lantern that illuminated the enclosure, and your shadows would dissipate into the darkness.

Except Ezra’s shadows don’t disappear; they hide. They blend into the black and mold into one man-engulfing untamable beast to possess Ezra’s throat. And they manifest again in his mind. They poison that movie that plays once you slip consciousness, instills fear into his bone marrow until he doesn’t feel safe in his own body, his own thoughts.

These slumber illusions haunt Ezra. His right arm waves at him in his sleep, the souls to which he was the conduit bridging life and death haunt his diaphragm with toothy grins to mock him, screeching into his cavities. They remind him that he was never really alone because he has the suffocating embrace of those spirits that are sewn so tight to his eyelids. Every night he somehow manages to pull himself from the darkness only for his own demons to pull him back by the throat. He is always oscillating between consciousness and unconsciousness, being tossed around like a helpless rag with no hope of liberation. Nothing scares him more than his own thoughts.

And you know. You know all of it. How could you not? You were born a tumbleweed, wandering across desolation, so of course you’re a light sleeper. And you can hear Ezra’s choked cries, his tossing and turning as he drains himself of any sense of safety. But this man is a stranger to you. He is just a person you reside with, talk to all the time, nudge gently and tease and smile with. He is just the person that you wake up wanting to see, whose attention you always crave. A stranger.

So every night you turn your body to face the zipper of the tent and pretend that you can’t hear him cry. Pretend that you don’t sometimes cry with him. A pretty lavender lie that smells sweet, tastes sweeter.

You, in your cowardice, let him destroy himself. Watch as the bags under his eyes get bigger and greyer and the strings holding his shoulders up lose their tension.

Ezra, in his flawed cratered embodiment, is only human. And he had gone so long without holding anyone, without being held. He knows what he wants, knows who he wants. But he also knows how jittery you are, how fluttery your heart is, and he doesn’t want to approach it too fast lest he startle you and you fly off into the stars. But he can’t keep doing this, can’t live with himself when he knows he’s not the one in control but those horned, slimy creatures that claw at his maxilla with their venomous grins.

The lights are out in the tent per usual, so Ezra can’t really see you. His careful eyes can trace the outline of the curves of your body - or is it that his delusional eyes are envisioning some arbitrary glow around you, convincing him that what he’s seeing is real? Reality is a concept with which he is no longer familiar.

You, laying in your cot, decide that you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t stand to let this intruder of your life break you down the way he is without even trying. How dare he look into you, how dare he listen to you without passing judgement, how fucking dare he make you feel like a flower in bloom?

Ezra hears your breaths - they’re uneven. You haven’t gone to sleep. What are you waiting for?

“Ezra?” you practically squeak into the void. His ears perk up immediately; your cotton candy voice is enticing to him, flossing its way through his veins.

“What are you doing up, birdie?” Ezra asks softly, the air of his lungs floating on top of his words. He doesn’t mean to keep you awake, but he isn’t mad that you are. It’s stimulating his nerves enough to keep himself awake, and that’s something he probably won’t ever be able to repay you for.

“I-um….” Shit. You hadn’t expected to get this far. What would you say to him? How could you tell him that you wanted to help cleanse him, that you wanted to grovel in lime-coated thumb tacks with him and absorb his pain into your tissue paper skin? “I can’t sleep.”

Not a lie. Ezra knows you mean it. He just doesn’t know why.

“Well that won’t suffice,” he decides, outstretching his left arm blindly off the edge of his cot until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for: that goddamn lantern. With a little more fumbling, a weak but good enough orange glow is emitted on the floor between the two of you. You both catch each other’s pitiful gaze. You want to take care of each other, want to shield each other from the red sprites that nip angrily at each other’s hearts. Ezra holds his left arm out to you, tentatively. He’s never been more unsure in his life. He watches you glance at his arm, and then quickly to the side. You’re trying to decide if you’ll let him add another tether to you. If you’ll let him become something sewed so tight to your bleeding skin that to leave would rip you apart.

You slowly get up and walk over to his cot.

Ezra lets out a soft breath and his lips turn to a soft smile. He’s soft.

“C’mere, dandelion” he mumbles to you, and he hasn’t missed his right arm so much as in this moment. He wants to hold you properly, wants to keep you as close to him as possible. You’re hesitant, and he can tell. You’ve never been this close to him before, and you want to savor it. When your head finally touches his shoulder, it’s like a catalyst ignites underneath the two of you. You mold into each other the way the gods intended, like lake water seeping into the smallest of crevices of an empty river bed. Like the opposing poles of two magnets, like a key penetrating a lock. Like you were made for each other. Your arms immediately wrap around him, his neck now a fixture of your body, and his arm leads you to lay down on the cot. Without words, without that candid discourse that Ezra was so fond of, his face is buried into the warmth of your chest and he feels like you’ve cast an ethereal shield around him.

Ezra doesn’t need to hold you tight because you’re holding him tighter, like you’re trying to cling to something invisible and foreign before it can even think to leave you. Before it realizes that it doesn’t want you. Don’t leave. He can feel you breathe him in, face smashed against his wild hair, and he can’t blame you because he’s breathing you in too.

“Sweetheart-” he breathes, fanning against your skin in a way that sends a deep shiver down your spine and shakes your shoulders.

“Shh.” And for once in his cursed life, he’s speechless. There’s so much, too much that he wants to say to you, but his mind is shouting all of it at him at once and he doesn’t even know where to start. So he shuts the fuck up. He feels you. He feels your heat melt him until he can barely control his own muscles because they’ve gone limp, unable to perform a single contraction because his fibers are relaxed, are at peace.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep.

When Ezra wakes, you’re still sweet and motionless around him. The lamp was still on, still shining pathetically on the ground. He doesn’t feel the need to look around or squeeze his lids closed in an attempt to wring the bad rest out of him.

Rest?

He thinks fucking hard. When had he woken up last night? When had his banshees infiltrated his thoughts and cried into the void of his packed mind? All he can recall are caramel dreams, whipped cream clouds and berry trampolines for him to jump high into the cotton candy sky. He thinks he might like it that way. Maybe every night can be like that, every morning can feel this transcendent.

He hears you moan quietly as you stir not long after him, breaths shuddering on their way out of your nose as you slowly come to your senses.

“Good morning, birdie,” Ezra finally says. He doesn’t know what to say to you, what he can say to you, without making you flip a switch and realize that it’s all a mistake, that he is a mistake. His eardrums smile as your sleepy whining settles.

“Morning, Ezra,” you whisper, throat not ready to talk yet. It’s okay; you’d rather hear him talk to you anyway.

“Did you…were you able to achieve some sort of comfort?” Ezra asks. For a second you’re confused until you remember what you’d told him last night, and you realize that you’re holding him the same way you were when you’d gone to sleep. He hadn’t woken up.

“Yeah, Ezra,” you finally say after letting yourself simmer in the silence for a second. “Thank you.”

He smiles wide against your skin, the blunt tip of his excitement the battering ram that beats against his racing heart. He’s given you something worthy of your gratefulness, and the feeling of being worthy light his chest with blue flames.

“It’s not my intention to blow you away, dandelion,” Ezra says, his nerves manifesting into his characteristic breathy laughs, “but I can’t deny how direly I want to just touch you.” You feel the air get knocked out of you as your diaphragm begins to spasm; what is he asking? You’ve thought about it before; god, of course you’ve thought about it before. To lay back as you let him study you, memorize you and then let you do the same. Analyze the sculpted marble of his body to remind yourself why you love it so much.

“Please.”

It’s barely a whisper, a secret told to the wind, but Ezra hears you. Ezra always hears you.

So Ezra’s fingers begin to wander along your skin. He wants to map out the scars on your body, wants to learn the shape of you so intimately that he could remodel you if he wanted to. He wants to know your body the way he knows when you’re disappointed or frustrated or amazed or confused. He wants to just know.

You feel the calloused pads of Ezra’s fingers put a little pressure onto that dip of your thoracic vertebrae, draw circles above your hip right under the fabric of your sweatshirt, caress your shoulder. He’s slowly exposing your skin to the humid chill of the dank enclosure, carefully making your top cover less and less of you, but you’ve never felt warmer.

As Ezra’s mind begins to really warm up and the cogs begin to grease themselves, his words begin to flow out the way you’re used to. The way you’ve learned to love.

“Sweetheart, I have had nightmares every night for the past three weeks and now they’re gone,” he blurts. Fuck. His hand stutters against the small of your back. He’s done it now, he’s really gone and blown it, because now you know he’s fucking broken and you’re smart enough to know when to avoid damaged goods. You have to know that if you were to take your hands and try and feel him you’d just get bumps and ridges and cracks. But Ezra is selfish, can’t help himself or his thoughts, so he keeps rambling. “It is not my intention to come off as presumptuous, but I just know it’s because of you. How did you do that, birdie? You never told me you were sent to me as a dreamcatcher.”

You can’t help but smile into his scalp a little at his words. You didn’t mind taking all of his bad dreams and refracting them far away into the space between the stars for him. A light, breathy laugh rolls off your tongue like a huff, because fuck, if you were going to be embroidered to something it might as well be him.

Your breath hitches again as the back of his hand runs flat along your stomach. It travels back around and up to the nape of your neck, tracing your shoulders and then over to your clavicles, paying close attention to the dips. You can’t help but wonder if this means as much to him as it does to you; it means everything to you.

“You’re right. I’ve been holding out on you all this time,” you say, and he can hear you smile through the roses of your words. He slowly and with purpose lifts his head from your embrace so that he can look up at you, maybe even catch a glimpse of that pretty grin of yours and burn it onto his lenses.

“I’m not confident that you’ll ever know how fortuitous I was the day I met you.” Ezra’s voice is low as he speaks, his drawl stretching and fraying the ends of his words, and you soak in every last syllable. You soak in the meaning of his words. He feels lucky to have you.

You look down at him, bringing a hand to run through his hair. That stupid blonde streak snatches your attention for a moment and you thumb at the strands. You want to tease him about it, mock him a little, but you don’t. The moon marine in your arms holds so much unbridled beauty, and it’s all yours to look at.

Ezra is all yours to look at.

Ezra’s hand travels up to your face, cupping your cheek while his thumb toys with the corner of your mouth in a way that makes you bite your lip through a smile. Throwing all caution to the wind, you turn your head and press a shy kiss to the heel of his palm. Ezra’s skin burns where you’ve sanctified him. His hand begins to crave your touch in other ways, he is craving something more from you, but he knows he does far too much taking. He’s already taken so much from you, has already stolen so many moments from you out of sheer gluttony, but it’s not always his fault because you’re so giving. He knows you were a little hollow from the start, knows you were a little frayed in the first place, but still you share your thoughts and companionship with him because whether you know it or not, you’re a little taken by this space mutineer. If you fled this little thing you’ve built with him, you’d be leaving the prettiest parts of yourself behind for him to keep taking care of the way a mother makes her son’s bed after he leaves for college because what if you want to come back?

But you haven’t left, haven’t abandoned him and in turn, yourself. You’re right here, letting him bask in your reverent lavender radiation, and as he looks at how you’re giving off your own intrinsic glow because the shitty orange light on the ground isn’t enough, he knows he hasn’t earned it. He doesn’t think this is a very fair transaction at all, but he’s too selfish to stop you from paying a little extra. You’ll let him keep the change.

Ezra wordlessly lifts his head, nosing at your wrist so that you’ll bring it lower and let him kiss the delicate skin there. He looks up at you with wide, eager eyes of adoration. His feelings for you are beginning to bubble underneath the surface of his silk-lined thoughts and he is willing them to stay at that low simmer because he doesn’t want to think about anything except how fucking gorgeous you look in the lamplight.

“I’m growing rather fond of the way you feel against me,” Ezra finally says. Everything is so foreign now, so new, so he tries to do the one thing you both know, the one routine you can both dance without needing to think about it: talking.

“I like it too Ezra,” you giggle. Not a long, flittery one, but a pass of air with a note under it. You’re a little nervous too.

“I reckon I could get accustomed to this,” he whispers. Your lip betrays you, curling itself to reveal your reply before you even say it. Your teeth capture your lower lip for the act of treason, but it’s too late. “But I’d just hate it if I made you feel like you’re bearing my baggage.”

“Ezra, you don’t have crippling baggage,” you insist. What is this man talking about? You were the one with issues. You were the one that had to be convinced to stay with him, you were the one that insisted on the right cot, you were the real coward here. You were broken. “Everyone has their demons. There is so much more inside of you. You’re so full.”

Ezra’s eyes go a little wide at your words. You didn’t think he was half a man? Some incomplete mosaic that would never find his missing pieces?

“You flatter me,” he chuckles; no, he giggles.

“Well…I just figured there’s no way a broken man could handle his broken partner the way you deal with me.” His expression melts into something more than pity and less than ignorance - confusion. The tap in Ezra’s tongue pops loose and his words begin to cascade from his lips like some majestic phenomenon, like holy water spraying the filth off of your brow.

“I need you to look at me, firefly.” His voice is more stern now, his words more articulate as he shifts up the bed slightly so that he’s eye level with you. He’s still on his side, his left hand is still gripping the flesh at your hip. “I don’t think you’ll ever truly comprehend how much you’ve done for me these past cycles, but this life is quiet and toilsome. You’re capable of recognizing beauty in things I wouldn’t have even taken note of in the first place, and I hang onto your every utterance whether you’re aware or not. It’s easy for me to sit here and tell you how bad I always want you because you fill my thoughts, pretty dandelion. And if someone came here and regurgitated your exact words to me, it still wouldn’t hold a candle to the way you sing when you wonder out loud. I don’t need to ‘deal’ with you, sweet rose. I want you.”

Your lip quivers a little; you know Ezra likes talking to you, he’s told you before. But you couldn’t help but assume Ezra just likes talking, period. That he liked having you around about as much as he’d enjoy the company of any other talker. To think that someone wants you, your passions and afterthoughts and pondering notions, meant more than anything you could articulate.

“Ezra-” you start, but you cut yourself off. You want to let his words turn into condensation on your skin, to form little rain clouds above your head so that they pour back down on you in delicate drops. You want to let him linger, to sit and hang above you like the sky hangs above the ocean.

You look straight at him, deep into his inquiring brown eyes as you both begin to breathe the same air, scents mingling between you like the heat between two stars. His nose is right up against yours and you can feel his lashes caress your cheekbone. He’s so close, but you want him closer, need him to move his hand or blink his eyes or do something, because you can’t take the nothingness anymore when you’ve got everything pressed right up against your face.

Ezra decides he wants one last thing from you.

“My rose, I don’t want to ask too much of you, but I suppose if that were true I wouldn’t have invited you to stay with me anyway. In the tent, of course. Not the cot.” Fuck, what was he saying? He lets out a soft laugh as he tries to reorganize his thoughts, a blushing mess under your gaze because he’s so used to knowing exactly how to get what he wants, but he’s really pushing your boundaries and bending your fence posts now. You’re turning him into a man who fumbles, a man who doesn’t always have to know what he’s about to say, and he doesn’t mind being a little less talk around you and a lot more touch.

Suddenly, he’s reminded of what he wanted to ask you.

“Sweet creature, could I kiss you?”

You don’t miss a beat in this soft ballad you’re playing with him, letting out a gentle “yeah, Ezra.”

You don’t like homes, don’t like to be told that you’re forever nailed to walls and wood. But maybe, as Ezra’s scruffy chin leans up to slot his lips against yours, you could build a tent in him. Maybe this leaky soul was your permanent, your unyielding, your perpetual.

As Ezra tilts his head towards you with a soft moan so he can kiss you the way you deserve, speak to you through the blinding sensation of his mouth telling you how he wants you, needs you, loves you, without using a single word, he is confident that his hollow cavities are beginning to be filled by your amber essence. He can tell you’re letting yourself finally take root in him, clearing out the wretched foliage so that you can curl up in the meadow of his soul and rest your bones within him.

Yeah.

You’re home.

people who asked to be tagged:  @bobafvtt @catfishingmorales@keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @cryptkeepersoul

people who definitely didn’t ask to be tagged oops: @glowingpena @bestintheparsec @ezrasarm @murdermewithbooks

not me tagging strangers for clout-

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be added/removed to my tags, I promise I’m not scary💕

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//i have called you darlin' and i'll say it again

Request: Can I request a super fluffy Sweet Pea/Reader, the song Make you Mine by Public is kinda song I'd recommend listening to for it, not necessarily a song fic but just like Sweet Pea flirting/crushing on reader sort of thing

hey! so i had an idea for this and i really hope you like it! its a bit different to how i usually write and maybe a little different to what you were expecting. but i dunno, i just really liked the idea. i hope you do too! (if you don’t just tell me and i’ll write something else because this is a little different to the request) also, ‘lips’ is an inside joke between me and my girlfriend, and this is going to look really weird here but if you read on you’ll get what I mean. 

From the moment Sweet Pea saw you, he knew you were the one. 

He’d finally made it to the end of the first week of college, and with the help of his roommates he’d been invited to the first party of the school year. 

If you’d asked him a year ago where he would be in 12 very long months, he definitely would not have said stood in a frat house, playing beer pong a bunch of Chad’s and Jason’s. But here he is, and to his surprise he’s actually enjoying it. A lot more than he thought he would. 

He knows he probably should be back in his dorm, studying or sleeping or whatever freshman are supposed to be doing. But after the first week he’s still feeling a little lost. He doesn’t have any of his friends as Toni and Fangs both went to different college’s in different parts of the country. Classes are long, homework’s confusing and teachers are rude. 

He’s surrounded by people that are so different from the ones back home, and so he can’t help feeling that he sticks out just a little bit. He’s unsure about the world of college, and so maybe going to a party will help him understand everything a little better.  

But then he see’s you and everything falls into place. 

You’re stood on the other side of the crowded room, a small red cup in your hand that matches those of the people around him and he looks down at his own drink, realizing that maybe he should have poured the bottle into the plastic cups everybody seems to have, even if they are ridiculously small and make him look like a giant. 

You’re laughing, your head tilted back, your nose scrunched up, your eyes closed as the people around you join in. Your little group seemingly in their own world. Complexity unaffected by the loud music and even louder people. 

He realizes he probably looks at least a little weird just staring at some stranger, but he can’t take his eyes away from you. He’s being pulled towards you, he has a need to talk to you, like his entire future balances on you. 

It takes a while, but he eventually talks to you. And after some awkward moments, the two of you are stood in the kitchen. He’s happy for the first time since he left Riverdale. You laugh at something he said that wasn’t meant to be funny and he feels the entire world fall away around him. It’s just you and him. Him trying desperately to make you laugh, and you doing it probably out of pity. 

You suggest a walk after a few minutes of shouting ‘what’ at each other trying to be heard over the music. And when he raises an eyebrow in surprise, you notice and make sure to to tell him it’s nothing funny, it’s just to talk. He agrees and you grab his hand, pulling him through the living room. 

You ask him if he knows what a french exit is and he shakes his head. You smile at him, its small but no less breathtaking and full of questions he wants answers to. ‘I’ll show you’ you say and for a second he’s worried that he’s got himself involved in something sketchy, something that Fangs told him he would have to be prepared for, something of which he told him to ‘fuck off’ for. 

But then you grab his hand and pull him towards the back door. It slams shut behind you and you’re both left standing in the back garden. It’s cold, an autumn breeze hanging around but it’s a welcome on your warm skin and you hope in the darkness that he can’t see the soft blush that dusts your cheeks.  

He watches you look around, a confused expression on your face before you look back at him, a slightly embarrassed smile settling on your lips. ‘I thought we could get out this way’. He laughs, making your smile brighten and even though you still feel embarrassed it’s not so bad anymore. 

‘We could climb over the fence.’ He suggests, you follow his gaze until the two of you are staring at a large wooden fence.

“Are you being serious?’ You ask, blinking at him. 

“It’s not that high.” 

“Maybe not for you, big foot.” 

“Wow, like I haven’t heard that one before.” He says eventually. 

“You know what they say, college is about new experiences.” You send him a sarcastic smile, to which he just laughs and shakes his head at. “Speaking of, if you want to climb over that, you’re going to have to help.” 

“Or we could just go back in and go through the front door.” He says, looking back at the house but you’re already stood by the fence, waiting with your arms crossed. 

“Nope.” You shake your head. “Once you’ve french exited, you can’t go back.” 

“French exited? Is that a word?” He asks, getting on one knee so he can help you over the fence. You smile at him before throwing your bag over the fence and grab his shoulder, ready for him to push you up. 

“Yep.” You reply, pushing yourself up and over the fence. 

“In what language?” He asks, following you shortly after. Both of you land with a thud, thankfully on your feet but Sweet Pea still gets a glare after narrowly missing your bag. 

“Mine.” 

“How did you get into college?” He asks sarcastically. 

You start to wander down the street, not waiting for him and it takes him a few seconds before he notices you’ve gone. The moon hides behind the clouds and you sigh, disappointed that there’s no stars out tonight. He watches you look up at the sky and follows your gaze. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You reply, looking back at him with a soft smile. 

“I would actually.”

He hears you sigh, deciding that tonight just a glimpse of the moon will have to be good enough, before footsteps start again. 

But he continues to look up at the sky, watching a future he so desperately wants paint itself on the cloudy canvas. 

A shy friendship that slowly evolves the more you get to know each other. With flirty conversations that always border on something else, both of you terrified to step a toe over the line. It’s filled with innuendos that neither of you pick up on until it’s too late or that make the other blush like mad.

Longing looks when the other isn’t looking that keep you up half the night. And awkward eye contact followed by weird smiles on the rare occasion that you’re caught.  

Brushing of fingers when you reach for the same thing...

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. Stop putting the snacks on the top shelf.” 

“This is my house?!” 

“And?” 

And nudging of elbows when one of your other friends says something stupid. Both of you sharing a look because you know for a fact when you’re alone you’re going to laugh about whatever’s been said. 

Looking forward to the next day just because you get to see them and constantly checking your phone as you wait for text. Spending hours thinking of different excuses to hang out with another and even more hours afterwards thinking about the time spent together. 

Inside jokes that confuse others around you but make you both laugh louder than anybody else. 

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Sweet Pea?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Lips.”

“Okay, what the fuck does that even mean? Why are you both laughing so hard? What is so funny about lips!?!!” 

Tight chests when you see them laughing loudly with someone else. Wanting to be with each other all the time, just by their side. You don’t even have to do anything, you just want to spend time with each other. Checking to see if they’re laughing at something you’ve just said and feeling an indescribable heartache when they’re not paying any attention. 

Watching for the other to walk into a room, and when they finally arrive and smile at you, its like your whole body smiles back at them. It doesn’t matter if its at a party, a class or if they’re just visiting your dorm. 

Wanting to be the only thing they see, wanting their heart and soul. 

And when your other friends question or tease you about it, you always deny it, even if the redness of your cheeks say otherwise. And always having each others backs despite how much it might hurt. 

“Darlin-I mean Y/n.” 

“Did you just call her darling?” 

“Wha-no. I didn’t!” 

“Oh my god! Yes you did. You just called Y/n darling.” 

“I didn-” 

“Y/n, you heard that right?” 

“Nope, I dunno what you guys are talking about.” 

“thank you.” 

Thinking about what it would be like to kiss them, what their lips would feel like against yours. How they would kiss you. Would it be soft and gentle or rushed? How their hands would feel on your skin or in your hair. 

Awkward first dates turn into weekly movie dates as a couple, filled with making out more than watching the actual film and more pizza than you can both handle. Its spent laughing at cheesy rom-coms and Sweet Pea’s aversion to horror films. 

You sneaking out the next morning, trying hard not to wake his roommate, despite him knowing you’re there. And Sweet Pea always asks the same question. 

“Are you french exiting me?” 

To which you always reply, “No, and I thought that wasn’t a word.”

“To you it is so I suppose I’ll let it go.” 

You meeting his friends during the holidays, and them loving you. You and Toni talking about how hard college is, and Fangs telling you every single embarrassing Sweet Pea story, his favourite being the almost threesome with Toni and somebody else. Both Sweet Pea and Toni hate it when he tells that story, especially because he tells literally every single person he meets. Thankfully though, you find it funny but promise to not talk about it ever again. 

He meets your family and friends the next holiday and it’s your tun to be embarrassed, although none of your stories can beat his though so you don’t feel so bad. You spend the week stealing kisses when no one’s around and making sly remarks about your aunt, uncle and their snotty kid, who’s older than you but acts like a spoilt 8 year old. It’s Sweet Pea that suggests the french exit one night after dinner and thats when you realize you love him. 

He looks after you when you’re sick, and you do the same. You watch your favourite movies, cuddled up together under a mountain of blankets and tissues, despite protests of the other one getting sick. And when they inevitably do, the favour is returned. You don’t how you’re both not just constantly sick. 

There’s arguments that feel like they won’t end and days that you just don’t want to end. 

Shouting and crying and slamming of doors that always ends in long hugs and whispered apologies. 

You graduate together, one straight after the other and the two of you are smiling the entire day. Toni, Fangs and your family have flown over to see you both graduate, and they’re equally proud of you both. 

You get ready together but Sweet Pea still feels breathless when he see’s you. A small ‘wow’ escaping his lips as he watches you twirl around your room. He grabs your arm and spins you around, earning a surprised squeal from you. 

You’re never far apart from each other the whole day, wanting to be next to each other at all times. And it comes in handy when Fangs gets drunk and you have to stop him telling the threesome story to your parents. 

You made it! You did college! Well done! Now what though?

It’s time to go out into the real world and Sweet Pea feels like he did all those years ago at that party. Lost. He doesn’t know what he wants to do, where he’s going to live. 

But he watches you sleeping peacefully beside him and he knows whatever he chooses it’ll be okay, because you’re there with him. 

You figure your lives out together, making sure that the other is always a part of it. And after a while of working in some slightly stressful jobs, that aren’t really what you want to do but something you need to do to live, you save enough money to rent an apartment. It’s small, but it’ll do for now. And the two of you have fun searching for cheap furniture to fill it with. Nothing matches but its perfect and you don’t want it anyway else. 

He cooks, you do the dishes and you dance in the kitchen when certain songs come on. 

The song that were played at the party when you met and Sweet Pea can never remember the name of it so you always have to remind him. 

“Darlin’, whats that song called again? You know which one I’m on about. La, la, la, la.” 

“Make You Mine, Sweet Pea. And it’s 3am, go to sleep.” 

“Yeah! Thats the one...hey Y/n. Whats it called again?” 

“Make You Mine.” 

“Already am baby.” 

“You’re an idiot.”

The song you sang as you walked down the street together later that night, because he said something that reminded you of it. 

“Take me to your best friends, I love you then, I’ll love you now!” 

“What?” 

“You were talking about your friend Fangs.” You say, now very embarrassed at your sudden outburst. 

“His house is a bit far away but we can go if you want.” He replies making you laugh loudly.

When he gets back to his dorm the next morning, he makes a playlist, the first song in it being that one. He calls it ‘for y/n’, and he continues to add to it constantly. 

It’s got the one that reminds him of you, and to this day he still tries to fit your name into and fails miserably but it still makes you laugh and thats why he continues does it. 

That one song that played in the car on the way to getting groceries that he shout-sang for some reason and you both ended up sat in the parking lot for an extra ten minutes just singing. 

It has your go-to karaoke song that you have a little dance routine made up for, that you occasionally still practice in the kitchen, just so your moves are the best they can be for karaoke. 

He plays Make You Mine while proposing. What started as doing the dishes after dinner, ending in both of you crying while lying in a heap on the floor after you jumped on him. 

And its played again as your first dance at your wedding, but again, what starts as a very sweet and serious dance ends in you doing the routine from your karaoke song. 

He grabs your hand when everyone is too drunk to notice you’re both missing, pulling you through the endless corridors of the hotel you’re in. 

“What are we doing?” You ask as you clutch your dress with the other hand. 

“Do you know what a french exit is?” He replies, making you roll your eyes. 

“I do yes. How do you know what one is?” 

“Oh, a pretty girl showed me once.” 

“And where’s this pretty girl now?” 

“She’s married to some loser.” He shrugs making you glare at him. 

“Hey, that ‘loser’ is my best friend. And I know for a fact that whoever is marrying him is the luckiest woman in the world.” You scold and he rolls his eyes. 

He pulls you through the back door and the two of you stare the fence in front of you. 

“I thought we could get out this way.” He sighs. 

“We could always climb over it.” You say, squeezing his hand and sending him cheeky smile. “But you will have to help me.” 

“Always.”

“Sweet Pea? Are you even paying attention?” Kyle asks, hitting the serpents arm gently. Sweet Pea blinks, staring at the group of boys stood around the ping pong table. 

“Are you okay?” Another asks. “You kinda zoned out for a few minutes.” 

“I-er. Yeah.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna go get some air.” He says dazed. He places the cup gently on the table before walking away, he feels dizzy and he has no idea whats just happened.

But then he see’s you and everything falls into place. 

Laughing with your friends, your head tilted, your nose scrunched up, your eyes screwed shut, and the whole world stops. 

An entire future between the two of you waiting to be lived. A whole life waiting to happen.

He just has to talk to you. 

So he takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way across the crowded room to where you’re stood. 

It feels like the whole world has stilled as he looks at you, waiting patiently for you to finish your conversation with a dark haired girl, it looks purple in the lighting but he’s can’t be sure, and then he realizes that the hair colour of a stranger isn’t exactly the most important thing right now. 

She’s the first to notice him, she glances between him and you before a small smile twitches at her lips, and within seconds she’s gone, taking the rest of the group with. You frown and watch as they leave, confused as to where they’re going. 

Sweet Pea coughs awkwardly making you jump and turn around. The room goes quiet, the noise from the music and shouting falls away as he looks at you, a confused expression pulling softly at your features, as your gaze makes its way up to his face. The confusion is quickly replaced with a smile. Its bright and warm and it makes Sweet Pea smile in return. 

“Hi.” You lean into him, trying to be heard over the music and Sweet Pea momentarily forgets how to breathe. 

“Hi.” He replies, also leaning in. He’s trying so hard to play it cool, and at first it works, that is until he leans in too far and smacks his head off yours. “Shit sorry.” He says quickly, clutching his head while you do the same to your own. 

He’s fucked it. He knows he has. He’s definitely fucked it. 

“Its fine.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it. What’s your name?” 

“Sweet Pea.” 

“Y/n.” You reply. “Do you want to get a drink?” 

[barnesbabee]

Dirty Laundry || K.H

Summary: While you were practicing your guilty pleasure, an unexpected spectator offered a little help, which you gladly accepted.

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Words: I’d say quite a lot

Genre: Smut

A/N: Please enjoy! I love hearing your feedback, also the requests are open :D

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

  It was now part of your weekly routine, to take your basket full of laundry and visit the familiar laundromat. 

   For most people it was just a task, a burden even. But you yearned for the days you had to wash your clothes. When the weeks were slower and you ceased to leave your house that much, you found a way to get more laundry to fill up the basket (whether it was by "accidentally" spilling something on your shirt, or simply just by asking your flatmate if she needed her clothes to be washed), JUST to have a reason to visit said place.

   Why? 

   Because of a guilty pleasure of yours. The pleasure you felt whilst leaning your clothed core to the edge of the vibrating surface of the machine as it washed your dirty clothes made you feel guilty, and dirtier than the cloths it washed. But you couldn't help it... Doing such a thing, in a public place, where people stood... It brought so much ecstasy and excitement upon you, it was indescribable. One day you walked in the laundromat near your place and looked around.

   "Empty..." you thought, and sighed.

   It was quite thrilling, the thought of you pleasuring yourself with people around you, that had no idea of what was happening, but there was nothing you could do.

   You set down the laundry basket that had been resting against your hip until now and opened the machine's lid. Removing the book you had brought along (to somewhat disguise your "wrong" doings), you started shoving in the clothes. When you were finished, you took a glance at the corner of the washing machine as you turned it on and bit your lip. 

   You then proceeded to sit on said corner and open the book on a random page, pretending that you were reading, just in case someone walked in and, as if you were foreseeing the future, someone indeed did.

   Around five minutes had gone by and you felt a breeze of hair hit your face. You looked up and saw a young man with a pair of familiar narrow eyes. He, just like you, visited this particular laundromat quite often. You smiled at him slightly, as an awkward greeting. Weirdly enough, he did not smile back, instead, he smirked.

   "Weird..." you whispered to yourself.

   You disregarded it and let the man do his laundry, as you recalled your focus to what you were originally doing. 

   Your breaths started becoming heavier and faster, and suddenly you cursed your choice of clothing, as a particular stain could be spotted from the front of your grey sweatpants, caused by your excessive wetness.

   Of course, you tried to cover it up, but it was useless. Your wetness was spreading from the pleasure the machine was providing you with, and your whimpers were becoming impossible to sustain, one or two occasionally slipping out.

   It was unknown to you, of course, but the man who had previously walked in was watching you carefully, as a much-wanted hard-on started to grow on his pants. He started palming himself through the cloths as he watched you try to suppress small whimpers, but fail to. He couldn't handle it anymore. All of these weeks, seeing you, observing you pleasuring yourself right in front of him... He couldn't wait anymore.

   Suddenly, a hand snatched away your book and threw it somewhere, while an arm embraced your waist. Your head shot up and your eyes widened as you felt a hot breath against your neck.

   "Come on baby, I bet I can find you something much better than that corner." He whispered in your ear,

   You suddenly understood the sly smirk he had given you as he came in the laundromat. He knew about it.

   Your shocked look left your face and was replaced with a smirk.

  "I don't know what you're talking about, love"

   Seeing your face and your confident response, the man took that as an incentive to proceed with his actions. He smirked with you.

   The man's fingers trailed your body and went past your sweatpants and your panties. He rubbed your core for a mere second making you roll your eyes back, You were already so sensitive form the machine action... 

   He pulled out his fingers and held them in front of you both.

   "So I guess you're just this wet all the time, for no reason?" He asked.

   You shrugged, as he took those fingers to his own mouth and licked them clean. You bit your lip, while you enjoyed the sight.

  "Come on princess, I want to taste you better." He said as he picked you up by the waist and sat you on the machine.

   He looked around before doing anything, making sure that the spot you were in gave you time to mascarade what you were doing in case someone came in. He then smirked again and brought his lips to yours.

   The kisses started not-so-innocently from the get-go. He was quick to slip his tongue inside of your mouth and explore every corner of you. You immediately started to wonder what amazing things that mouth could do and moaned into the kiss.

   That moan drove the man's hand down your body, and he pat your butt, so you would lift it. Once he was able to, he removed your pants and underwear just enough so you were exposed to him. His fingers rubbed your clit for a minute or so, before his mouth started doing its way down your body. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, then your hip, followed by the inside of your thigh. The man then decided to tease you, by blowing hot breaths on your sensitive core.

   "Please just do something..." You begged.

   He smiled mischievously and started sucking on your clit as he fingered you. His tongue worked miracles in you and you were loving it. He soon replaced the fingers with the tongue, as he began tongue fucking you.

   "Oh... oh my G-god." You stuttered.

   He pulled out and looked up at you.

   "What's he have to do with this? It's Hongjoong you should be moaning, I'm the one doing all the work baby." The man you now knew as Hongjoong said, and winked at you.

   You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged on it while he ate you out. 

   "Hongjoong if you keep doing that I'm gonna come." You warned, out of breath.

   "Come for me baby. Come in my mouth, I want to taste you as you come." 

   His dirty words threw you over the edge, and you came with a scream you suppressed by covering your mouth with a hand. 

   "God baby you shouldn't have covered your mouth... Now I'm gonna have to make you scream foreal." The man said, faking his pity.

   He locked your lips together in a passionate kiss, as you grinded against his hard-on. You broke the kiss just to push his buttons.

   "Do you think you can seriously make me yell though?" You teased him as you looked him in the eye with a suggestive look.

   "Is that a challenge?" Hongjoong asked you, receiving only a shrug as an answer.

   "Oh baby you are getting fucked hard and raw right here." He growled in your ear. 

   He undid his belt and zipper, and pulled the pants and underwear he was wearing just enough to expose his hard dick whilst his mouth worked on your neck.

   Hongjoong slowly entered you, and, to prevent yourself from doing any noises, you grabbed his chin and made him kiss you. 

His thrusts started slow, as a way for you to adapt to his size. But as time passed, he became faster and more violent, after all, he had been challenged. Your nails were gripping his shoulders tightly, and although he had a shirt on, you were certain he would have your marks the next morning.

 Hongjoong started getting annoyed. You were being quiet, besides some small whimpers, so he grabbed onto your waist tightly and thrusted as violently as he could, and that made you see stars, You threw your head back, and started moaning loudly. In Hongjoong’s ear that sounded like victory.

   "Hongjoong I'm gonna come." You warned.

   "That's right baby, say my name." 

   "Hongjoong!" You yelled, gripped his arms and hid your face in the crook of his neck as that last thrust that sent you over made you dizzy.

   The feeling of your walls clenching around him and the sound of your moans sent the man over the edge.

   The man pulled out, and with a couple simple strokes of his cock he came over the outside of your pussy, with an agape mouth and a loud groan.

    He leaned on you and you both stood there, catching you breaths, until you had to get dressed.

   "That was fun. Let's repeat that." You suggested as you handed him your phone.  

  "For sure baby, but next time, my flat." He said with a wink as he typed in his number. 

   He gave you a simple kiss on your cheek (which for some reason made you blush) and left, with his signature cheeky wink.

[alreadyblondenow]

King Taeyong | 3

Taeyong x ballerina!reader // SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST, fantasy!au Summary: You welcome back Taeyong in your life after he left you for almost a year. Maybe its because your feelings never left in the first place. Now that he’s back, he’s more transparent and honest with you. Promises over promises, is he going to keep his promises this time?  Word count: 5k Warnings: Unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of other idols, pairing of other idols but not too much, death of someone  Note: -The fantasy part is already here. I tried to keep it short and simple, didn’t want to overdo it.  -Imagine a Narnia kingdom setting hihi Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Seeing Taeyong again after for so long was something you’re not looking forward to happen. Even though you imagined him coming back to you, now that its real you’re like a statue. You have million things to say to him but non came out in your mouth. You wanted to yell at him, curse at him but you can’t. It’s been a long time but what you feel for him never left.  

You made coffee for the both of you still trying to escape the gaze from Taeyong’s eyes.  Those beautiful eyes that will make you fall in love with him again any second. Those beautiful eyes you used to lock eyes with while he’s making love with you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry” he broke the silence but his voice was almost a whisper. It made your heart sink, suddenly you’re hurt again. Tears falling because you don’t know what he’s sorry for. Are you sorry because you went away? Are you sorry because you’re breaking up with me?

“But can you please, come with me?” he added. You were so confused because you thought he’s here for closure.  “Baby please, just please. I’ll explain later. ” the pet name gave you shivers, hearing him call you with fondness again makes your heart warm. Out of respect and curiosity, you grabbed any coat you could find. Putting the cupcakes to the fridge, and leaving a note to Jaehyun, ‘I went out with Taeyong.’

Seeing Taeyong with his two bodyguards Jungwoo and Lucas is something normal, but seeing more than two bodyguards in front of your apartment sure is not. You try to count them in mind and they were at least eighteen. Why does Taeyong has eighteen bodyguards today?

His bodyguards addressed him as “Your highness,” as if he’s really a king or someone from a royal family. “The car is at the back of the building” a man in black suit informed Taeyong without any expression. Just a stern look in Taeyong’s eyes. What is happening. Is this some kind of joke.

All is settled inside the car and you sit as far from him crossing your arms and biting your lip from time to time. He came closer to you touching your knee with full bravery but you moved it away. “I promise all will make sense later” he said, keeping his hands to himself not trying to touch you again. Everything thats happening right now looks like a joke to you, some sick prank.

“I missed you. so much” he started talking again, annoying you with his sweet gestures.  You still gave him the silent treatment that he deserves but deep inside you wanted him to know how much you missed him too. And that you waited for so long but he never came back.

Finally, the car stopped. When Taeyong opened the door, the light coming from the outside was weirdly different from your perspective. You got out of the car still squinting trying to recognise where on Earth did he take you.

Everywhere you look seems so foreign in your eyes, you’re positive that you’re not in your own country. Impossible, you cant believe what you’re seeing right now. Is this a dream? A castle is right in front of you, one that looks like it came from a storybook. Tall, wide and overwhelming for your eyes but nonetheless it welcomes you. Seeing people bow before Taeyong, convinced you that this might be a dream, or a nightmare because Taeyong is in it.

This cant be real.

When the two of you are finally alone in his so called office... in his kingdom, you wanted to wake up. Thinking about opening your eyes over and over again, forcing yourself to wake up. Seeing Taeyong in a dream hurts so bad it makes your heart heavy, you cant take it anymore.

“you’re not dreaming” Taeyong surprised you with a kiss being brave again. You slapped him in the face, hard. Your hand burns from the slap “it’s hurts right?” Taeyong asked, “That means you’re not dreaming”

No, it cant be. Taeyong? A king?

Everything that’s happening right now is like a big pill that’s hard to swallow. The moment you saw Taeyong on your doorstep, asking you to come with him, his kiss, the castle, is all too much and hard to believe. You asked Taeyong again what is this place but you get the same answer, “My kingdom.”

“Oh please Taeyong, not that bullshit again” you said hard and stern. He rolls his sleeves and let out a heavy sigh. He’s not forcing you to believe him but he wants you to believe on every word he’s about to tell you now. He clears his throat, and made you sit on the couch with him.

“I was away for a friend’s wedding. He’s a good friend of mine and I couldn’t miss his wedding” he breaths in and exhales sharply,  “the wedding was perfect and everyone was having a good time, until… someone shot the groom, my friend, Taemin, right before my eyes. His wife... died too” his steady voice is not so steady now, you see his hands shaking while telling you more of what happened and to be honest you dont know if you should believe it.

“It was a fucking massacre we should’ve known better. Johnny lost his girlfriend too” he reaches for your hand and smiled when you didn’t nudge. “I was thankful… Really thankful that you were far from me during that time. Many people died that night. A lot of kingdoms right now are facing big problems. My kingdom needed me y/n, thats why I couldnt go back to you.”

Feeling his touch again made you want to wake up more. Praying that you really wanted to open your eyes now. Too much, everything about this dream is too much. “Doyoung, Johnny and Yuta are now looking for the last assassin, and it’s in your world. We figured, its there to hurt me, to kill you” there was a moment of silence, he came closer to you, his lips touched yours again. You didn’t slapped him this time. His soft lips made you want to stay in this dream more, if this is a dream might as well drown in it.

You hugged him tight, you both fell on the floor with a loud thud. He chuckled but you see tears in his eyes, “look babe were on the floor again” you dried the tears on his eyes with your thumb and laughed with him. Suddenly happiness hits you like a truck again just like the day you met Taeyong for the first time. “Can I kiss you again?” this time its you who initiated the kiss, you kissed him deeply with love.

He asked you to changed your clothes so people in his kingdom wont think your clothes are weird. The maids picked a simple beige garden dress for you though It was kind of long for your liking but it was surprisingly lightweight and beautiful. In other words, you looked like a princess. Get it together y/n, you’re a ballerina for goodness sakes think of it as a costume.

The place looks exactly how fairytales described it. High ceilings painted with clouds and angels, open roof for the everyone to admire the beautiful sky, fresh breeze, people wearing fancy dresses, knights guarding every corner of the palace and Taeyong....looking like a prince fresh out of a story book. You wait at the big balcony watching the sun set in front of you almost looking like a painting. “Im sure you have a lot of questions” Taeyong interrupted your thoughts.

You scoffed, “Lee Taeyong, you have no idea”

“Im sure I can answer them all. Fire away”

“Well, you can start by telling me the truth and tell me stuff I need to know. Parents? Siblings? ....Allergies?” You shook your head, “personal stuff Taeyong”

He’s calm expression melts your heart, he’s always like that. You felt him kiss your exposed shoulders his arms encircled on your waist. “I’m still your Taeyong. Just add the word king” he let out a soft chuckle but you gave him a look telling him you’re serious. “Okay, tiger. chill” he hugged you tighter letting his warm breath hit the shell of your ear, “I lost my parents when I was 8 from the same assassins that killed my friend Taemin. I have a sister but she’s in your world living peacefully without any memory of this world. I dont have any allergies” he turned you around so you’re facing him, he missed being this close to you. He doesn’t say it but he’s so turned on right now, his gaze never leaving yours.

“In your world, you call my world... a fairytale. There is magic lurking in this world but nothing too crazy don’t worry. No harry potter type of situation.” He winks.

“I want you to meet someone very important to me, one of these days I’ll bring you to her. She’s someone special and she helped me shaped my life and with my duties as king” you nod silently.

Taeyong secretly worries about you, to be honest he worries for you and your mental state while living with him here in his kingdom. Is it really okay with you? Do you still see him as the Lee Taeyong as your number one fan and not as the highest king in this world?

“Y/n.. please be honest with with me. Dont hide what you really feel right now.”

“Baby. You were gone for almost a year, it was a lonely time for me. I appreciate your effort for explaining everything even though its too much. I’ll get there. I hope you understand that.” he nods changing the subject and showering your face with kisses.

“How are you?” Taeyong asked sweetly like how he usually do.

You let out a small laugh, and told him everything he missed. That you were devastated, sad and lonely when he was gone and that he missed the opportunity of meeting your parents during Christmas eve. “Im sorry. Im sorry for not being normal enough to make you happy and provide normal stuff-“

“Dont say that” you cut him off, “You’re more than enough for me Taeyong. Dont say stuff like that” he’s still guilty but you comfort him nonetheless you never want to feel sad anymore. Not now that you’re in each others arms again.

Taeyong prepared dinner for the both of you while you’re out roaming the castle grounds. He made a picnic style dinner setup at the balcony of his chambers making you comfortable on your first night here in his kingdom. “Yum!” you let out a groan out of excitement and told him you missed his cooking.

“You know, I planned to have my own bakery. I already took care of the loan and the bank will help me make my dreams come true” you sounded really excited while telling him what you’ve been up to while he was away. He was happy that you had everything under control and you made the planning all by yourself. “Actually I could help you out. Forget about the bank, I can help you. Let’s find a decent place for your bakery when we get back” Of course your super rich boyfriend will help you out because he loves you so much.

You knew Taeyong loves seeing you do what you love, and you know Taeyong offered help because this is his way of taking part in your life. Again. And you love him more for it. “Yeah. Lets do that” you accepted his offer with a smile, feeding him a potato chip with a mouthful of guac. Just how he liked it. “How about you Taeyongie, whats new?” you made him think hard. “Hmmm. Well, do you accept interns?” You laughed hard and loud your giggles echoed in his room.

“What Im serious! I can taste everything you make, clean tables, anything you like me to do” There’s the Taeyong that you know. The simple man with a great sense of humour that you fell in love with. Now that you’re talking about dreams, you confidently told him about the life you wanted to build with him when all this is over, telling him you cant wait to go back and be with him again.

“If you’re going to marry me someday. I want a baby girl... now, I know you need a prince as an heir....” Taeyong laughed so loud enough for the whole castle to hear. Brave of you to tell him that you want kids in the future.

“But I want to have my own mini me. And maybe if we get lucky, you can have your own mini you” you continued and Taeyong is still laughing.

“I’ll help you buy our house when I save enough from the bakery. We will make love from sun up until sun down. Never ending happy mornings with you. Tie my hair until we grow old and everything in between, I just want to be with you until I die” Even though it made Taeyong laugh so hard, he can’t help but have butterflies in his stomach the whole time you were talking. He wanted the same thing too.

“I promise. We will have a normal life.” he kissed you to seal his promise.

After dinner you took a shower in Taeyong’s garden bathroom. Never getting used to what this castle can do, it really surprised you how a bathroom can be so magical. Taeyong’s bathroom smells like fresh flowers everywhere, maybe thats why Taeyong smells good all the time. It feels good to be in Taeyong’s comfortable clothes again. He gave you his favorite sweater and a pair of comfortable sweatpants. You only wore the sweater and underwear, not bothering to wear sweatpants.

As you got out of the bathroom you see Taeyong laying in bed with a book on his hand, topless and flashing his wide broad shoulders. You remember nights at your apartment when he waits for you in bed while he’s playing games on his phone. He looks so handsome. You crawl towards him feeling his soft bed and snuggles beside him comfortably. “Finally. Some alone time with you” he kisses you softly, carefully nibbling your neck and slowly tugging the sweater that he gave you as if he’s testing waters.

You were impatient so you removed it already showing off your breast to him. He gently kisses your body marking it like how he used to. His touch and kisses are still the same you thought. Oh how you missed this feeling. You crave for Taeyong and he can see that you’re eager “Slow down baby. We have all night” he says while drawing small circles on your thigh. It makes you crazy how he’s taking time with you and how he slowly devours your skin while you crave for him entirely.

He quickly switched positions with you, now kissing your lips slowly going down to face your pussy. Gently spreading your legs in front of him, you let out a gasp and a choked  moan when Taeyong blows cold air at your slit, making you shiver. He smiles at you before he finally licks your pussy, slow and deep. His tongue starts from the bottom slowly goes up to your clit and gently kiss it. Catching your first orgasm for the night, Taeyong overstimulates you while you ride your high. Your moans are load and sharp he cant help but smirk and feel proud of his work.

“Baby are you planning to wake up the whole castle?” leaving wet kisses on your left breast and bites your nipple.

“Babe just fuck me already” you beg, feeling his hands kneading your breast, playing with your nipples with his thumb. You’re so focused on what he’s doing with your breast, you didn’t notice he’s spreading your legs wide for him preparing you before he finally fucks you. Without warning he inserts two fingers already to stretched your cunt. You yelped and tried to grasp anything from bed, you feel like your energy was slowly fading until you surrender in his touch. He chuckled.

This is not funny Taeyong. “Lee Taeyong im almost the-“ you warn him but he lets you cum on his fingers. You whisper sweet words to him expressing how much you missed him and it made the sexual tension more intense. Lining his cock on your pussy, coating it with your essence and slowly he gets deeper and deeper inside you. It feels so good. He fucks in slow pace, taking his time before going faster. You let out a string of moans, encircling your arms on his neck feeling his back muscles.

Slow, fast, deep and sharp thrust. He’s taking his time, fighting his urge to cum before you. Little did he know you cant take it anymore, you’ve cum so many times when he was fucking you slow. You tried pushing him away but you’re too weak. Taeyong fucked you again and again until you don’t respond to him and he let’s you sleep. He took care of you before joining you, made sure you’re clean. “I love you y/n” he whispers before sleeping beside you.

Taeyong slept like a baby beside you. It was his first time getting a good sleep from months of longing you. Telling himself he will never let anything come between the two of you ever again.

And it went on like this for days, weeks, even months while you’re stay in his kingdom. You became used to the castle grounds already, roaming around as if you’ve live there for a long time. On your way to Taeyong’s office, you see Taeyong with a beautiful woman almost your age wearing a beautiful dress, she has gorgeous long straight blonde hair and her skin is as fair as Taeyong’s. You got jealous for a second but maybe he’s Taeyong’s cousin or whatever.

Taeyong saw you and quickly introduced you to the beautiful princess in front of you.

“Y/n, this is Sorn. My fiancé”

Your what Lee Taeyong?

You gave him a look. A look thats saying you’re confused, mad and at the same time you want to punch him. Then you remembered the time when Jaehyun introduced himself as your future husband, you think this is his way of getting even. But he wasn’t kidding at all.

“Arranged marriage when we were both still young. I hope you understand” the princess speaks and reached out a hand full of sparkling rings. You wonder which ring Taeyong gave her. You didnt have a choice but to be nice.

Taeyong and Sorn are now talking inside his office about some royalty shit you thought and you can’t help but sulk. Yuta noticed that you’re bothered by the thought of Taeyong having a fiancé, hoping he could help you feel better he explains the situation further.

“Don’t worry y/n, it’s only for formality. This royalty shit is crazy and Taeyong needs a “queen” to rule here so he can be with you from time to time in your world” you thought that the idea was fucked up. “What was he thinking?” You almost shout but Yuta laughs at you.  “I told you. This royalty shit is crazy. A lot of sacrifices needs to be done”

“I love her y/n” Yuta finally confess. “To protect this world. To protect my kingdom, I have to let go of Sorn” your heart aches for what Yuta just told you. How can the world of royalties can be so cruel to good people?

Yuta and Sorn were young and in love for as long as they can remember. So deeply in love, that they plan to help each other’s kingdoms by marriage someday. But Sorn’s family faced problems and they needed help immediately, so the royal court’s decision is to arrange her for marriage. The royal court is so obsessed with finding Taeyong a queen and they saw Sorn as a good opportunity. “Duty before self” Yuta explained.

“Why didn’t you volunteer your kingdom? Is that too selfish?” You asked, trying not to sound rude.

“My kingdom is not that rich to solve her kingdom’s money problems. Thats why I’ve been  saving money in your world and be as rich as possible. That’s how I help my father with being king for now “

You cant believe this tragic love story that you’re hearing from Yuta. Just the thought of it makes you scared, that even though two people deeply love each other if fate is not in their favor, you can’t do something about it. Feeling bad about oversharing his feelings, Yuta told you not to worry, for Taeyong loves you so much and his kingdom equally.

You didn’t notice that you fell asleep while waiting for Taeyong to join you in bed. You felt soft kisses on your cheek, Taeyong waking you up in the middle of the night. Softly stroking your hair telling you to shush and follow him. Guiding you as you follow him to dark places that you’re not familiar with, you finally arrived to where he’s taking you.

You squint a little, seeing candles lit up, different flowers scattered on the floor, you’ve guessed you’re walking on an aisle with Taeyong. Doyoung, Yuta, Johnny and....a priest is waiting at the end of the aisle. Gasping as you realised, you’re about to get married.

“I was actually going to ask you to marry me over dinner tonight but-“ you cut him off and kissed him. “I’ll marry you.” You sad with a smile and hugged him tight. Crying tears of joy already.

You both proceed to this secret wedding that he organised. It was simple, just like you’ve always wanted. Genuine like him and sincere like his love. Taeyong promised to give you a proper wedding when you both get back to your world, but you told him you wouldn’t trade this wedding for anything.

Doyoung, Yuta and Johnny are happy for the both of you. They’ve seen Taeyong suffer enough without you and they all think that you both deserve to be happy. The three princes congratulates the both of you and telling them they’re more than happy seeing their Taeyongie marry happily someone he loves.

“Just dont be too loud fucking tonight or the castle will know somethings up” Johnny jokes making Taeyong punch him on his arm.

You spend your honeymoon enjoying the cold breeze around the palace. Sitting on the grass while watching how the castle turn yellow because of the soft sunrise. Taeyong got you beautiful flowers from his garden, tying it in a perfect knot making a small bouquet. He told you that the last assassin is dead and finally you can go back to the human world.

Just like the sunrise, you watch Taeyong be happy beside you. Remembering every detail of this beautiful moment. He noticed you were staring at him for a while now and he cant help but make you laugh by showing his wedding ring. Reminding you that he’s your husband from now on. Taeyong completely changed your life.

It was almost afternoon when you finally wake up from your sleep and still couldn’t believe that you’re married to this handsome guy kissing you. For the second time, Lee Taeyong is waking you up from your beautiful sleep by kissing you until you acknowledge him. “Lee Taeyong what do you want?” You asked him forcing yourself to open your eyes.

“Good morning... wife” and that alone made you smile. Taeyong thought your smile was so bright but it never hurts his eyes.

“I need you to meet someone important today” he’s now kissing your neck. Seriously this guy. “Last three days before you leave this kingdom by the way” he chuckled. “Everything will go back to normal once we go back. I promise.” He gave you one good kiss before leaving to prepare for breakfast.

He told you that you’re meeting the kingdom’s witch, a nice witch who helped him to be the king that he is.  “Ruby is like my secret weapon. She warns me and gives me knowledge with all the decisions that I make for the kingdom.”

Ruby is a witch that tells Taeyong what the future holds for his kingdom. She never tells what will happen entirely. She didn’t want to ruin the natural order of the universe, she can only warn his king and give him choices to make good decisions.

When you arrived at where you believed Ruby lives, a pond inside a cave, you thought that maybe Ruby likes fishing. You peeked at how deep the pond is and you see coins and, random things under the water that are all solid gold.

“Anything you throw in this pond turns into solid gold” he winks after he explains.

You saw the water shine as Ruby comes out of the pond with all her glory turn into this gorgeous human in front of you. From being a mermaid with golden fishtail. A mermaid witch, you thought. And she is naked in front of your husband with only her golden hair covering her boobs. Wow.

“Y/n, this is Ruby.” Taeyong broke the silence. When Ruby took a step further out from the water, she turned in a much decent human, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you y/n. Congratulations.” She smiled sweetly to you.

Ruby was nice to you and she offered to read your future. You didn’t want Ruby to show you your future to be honest, but you did it for Taeyong. She asked for your hand, holding it while she looks directly in your eyes. You saw what she saw. And there’s no need to tell Taeyong about it. You both giggle like little girls after you both saw your future, leaving Taeyong really curious.

In the future that Ruby showed you, you will have a little girl. And you will live like how he always promised for the both of you. Its pure happiness. “Thank you Ruby. It really means a lot” you told her with sincerity.

But little did you know, Ruby just showed you the future that you wanted to see. Not showing you your true future. She asked to speak to Taeyong privately and you respectfully left them talking.

Ruby did the same thing to Taeyong, but without the filter.  She showed Taeyong the challenges and pain he will put you through if he continue this married life with you.  “Your highness, Im afraid you’re not going to be the father of the child” Ruby showed Taeyong what you saw in her eyes earlier. It made him smile but he felt a pang of pain at the same time.

“Don’t get me wrong your highness, the child will come from you. But you will not be present as her father in her life.” Taeyong was confused. Ruby continued showing him more, and his world crashed. His heart feels heavy, he feels broken than ever. Taeyong is scared to the bone right now, but he trusts Ruby with his life and he is positive that Ruby wants what’s best for the kingdom and him.

Taeyong saw how his kingdom suffered from a famine while he was away from the kingdom living his life with you in the human world. He will have no other choice but to leave you again for the kingdom needs him. The famine will last for a year, and your pregnancy will not be the healthiest. You will lose the child and it will drive you to killing yourself. He saw how Doyoung told him the news that you passed away and it made him crazy. Taeyong turned into a mad king and the whole kingdom suffered in other words.

“Your highness now I ask of you.... to do the same thing as we did to your sister and prevent everything whats about to happen. We will create a life for y/n, a beautiful life without you in it” Ruby explains with a heavy heart.

Taeyeon. Taeyong’s sister is living well in the human world without any memory of the kingdom. Taeyeon was with their parents when they were killed and the incident traumatised her. To save her from being crazy, they gave her a potion for forgetting everything about the incident, the kingdom, Taeyong, everything.

Taeyong didn’t have much choice. He didn’t want to hurt you and kill yourself that will indeed make him crazy for good. Although its wrong for him to decide on his own, he still agreed to Ruby. He told her all about your dreams, the normal life you long with him, and the bakery you wanted to be successful with.

“I want her - I want her to have a peaceful life when she wakes up. A life without sadness, make sure she’s never alone or lonely. Be sure to never let her give up dancing because she loves her craft so much. Let her explore new things” Taeyong sniffs and continues to instruct Ruby. “She wants a bakery, let it be so successful customers will always buy every masterpiece she bakes. Please let her be with someone who truly loves her the same way I will.”

It really hurts him to pass you on to someone, it breaks his heart thinking of another man having you. “Please let that man be Jaehyun” he could only trust you with Jaehyun. Ruby hands the potion to Taeyong with a heavy heart. “I know you just got married. I’m sorry my king”

Your husband cant look you in the eye right now, but he stayed brave and put the small bottle in his pocket. “I’m still curious on what she showed you babe” Taeyong said, faking a smile. You let out a loud laugh without knowing what he really feels.

“Oh its a secret” you told him with a big mocking smile.

“I love you, y/n” he smiles ever so sweetly before your eyes.

Noticing his beautiful rose scar, and gently stroking it with your thumb. “I love you too, Lee Taeyong.”

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (8/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Okay, I can say, for sure, that this chapter is the end of Pain Pain Pain. Chapter nine will see things start to actually look up and head towards getting better. However, this chapter still does touch on some serious themes that could potentially trigger some readers, so please read at your own discretion.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Anxiety, needles, canon typical violence, general angst

Part 7

“There’s no news,” Steve says.

“Then we need to go further,” Bucky insists. “We don’t know who these people are. We don’t know how they operate and we don’t know where they’d go.”

“I know, Buck, we’re doing what we can with what we’ve got, but we can’t just rush into this without a plan.”

“There’s no proper procedure for this, Steve! The option is to go out, and look. That is the plan. She didn’t disappear on a busy street corner, she was shot down in the middle of the fucking woods and dragged away. If we don’t rush into it, she could be dead by the time we find her.” Bucky curls his hands into tight fists on the table. “She’s already been missing for three days. If we don’t do something fast…”

Steve nods. “I know.”

“I’m gonna pull Stark in on this.”

“Buck-”

“He’ll at least have recent satellite footage we can use.” He shoves back from the table and heads for the door.

“Don’t put this on Tony,” Steve says. “He’s already made himself sick worrying about her.”

“I don’t know what else to do here, Steve. Either we put a team together and get our asses in gear, or I’m going to start tearing the countryside apart till I find her.”

Steve sighs. “Fine. You and Clint start your search. I’ll work with Nat and Sam on this end and we’ll do what we can to help.”

Bucky pauses and looks Steve over. “You sure?”

“Yeah. You have an idea of where to start, so you should go with that. We’ll get everything sorted out here and keep you updated.”

Bucky nods. “I’ll be in touch.”

He breezes out of the room, immediately in search of Clint. Steve sighs and calls Natasha and Sam to meet him.

Clint is with Natasha when Bucky finds him. He places his hand on Clint’s shoulder to get his attention and Natasha excuses herself from the room.

“What is it?” Clint asks.

“We’ve got the green light to start looking for her.”

Clint shoots up from the couch. “Really?”

Bucky nods. “Steve almost didn’t agree.”

“You threatened him with Tony, didn’t you.”

“Yes.”

Clint almost laughs, but clamps his hand over his mouth. His hand moves to the back of Bucky’s neck and he presses their foreheads together.

“We’re gonna get her back, Buck.”

“I know.” Bucky wraps his arms around Clint. “We should leave soon.”

“Yeah,” Clint sighs. “Come on. Let’s get the hell outta here.”

“They’ll find me,” I whisper to myself. “I left a note. They’ll find me.”

With my head between my knees, I close myself in my wings. I rock back and forth, trying to find some kind of comfort in myself. I don’t have my shoes anymore and my pant legs are little more than shreds at this point. The jacket I wore when I first arrived is long gone and my shirt was traded out for a thin tank top a long time ago, leaving me with little more than my own down to keep myself warm.

I don’t know where I am or how long I’ve been here, but I do know that Clint and Bucky would never leave me here to rot. Just thinking about how worried they must be brings tears to my eyes. Guilt settles in my stomach and I swipe my tears away before they fall. Crying isn’t going to get me anywhere, and it’ll definitely just leave me more dehydrated and sore than I already am.

The door slams open and I jerk my head up, but hold my wings tighter around me. Through gaps in my feathers, I can see their shadow as they move through the barn. I watch as they pace around the space in front of me. They stop abruptly and I clamp one hand over my mouth to muffle my gasp when they approach me. They grab the chain attached to the manacles around my ankles and I silently beg them to drop it. They take several steps forward with the chain in their hand and they chuckle when they see me curl around myself even further.

Finally, they drop the chain and stop just in front of me. I bite down on my fist in an attempt to stay as quiet as possible.

“Arm.” I don’t say anything or move, and they kick me, laughing when they hear me wince. “I said arm, you dumb fucking bird.”

I slowly extend my right arm between my wings and they grab my wrist and yank me forward. I fall forward onto my knees and catch myself with my left hand. I refuse to look up at them, knowing that they’ll only try to hurt me further.

I’ve realized, in the time that I’ve been here, that they need me alive and in one piece for their tests, but they don’t necessarily care about hurting me. This man is no exception.

“Y’know,” he says idly. “I can’t figure out why they care about keeping you alive. They never did with the others. Went through the first ones like wildfire.”

He jabs a needle into my arm and I turn my face away to avoid the sight of my own blood. He doesn’t do anything to hurt me further, but I still flinch when he pulls the needle out. I shiver and clutch my arm to my chest when he lets go and I see his shadow shake its head.

“They think you’re somethin’ special, but I don’t see it. You look just like every other bird freak that’s been through here. Only difference is that you’re alive and awake.” He crouches down and tips my head up with a finger under my chin. I can see the detachment from what he’s doing in his face, which makes my anxiety spike. “You haven’t been nearly as interesting as the rest, though. Don’t struggle as much. Why?”

“I don’t know,” I croak out.

“Huh.” He grabs my jaw and tips my head from one side to another. “They’ll take you apart, one little bit at a time, till there’s nothing left. You know that, right?”

“Oh.”

“Mmm, and I’ll be there to see it, too. Might even get to help out a little.” His grip on my jaw tightens and I whimper. “I look forward to it.”

I can't stop myself from asking, "Why?"

"You're so innocent and scared." He squeezes my cheeks and his face morphs into something crazed and animalistic. "That little doe eyed look is exactly why."

I don’t say anything and the light in his eyes seems to dim as he loses interest. He shoves me to the side and gestures for someone at the door before he stands up and walks off. Someone new shuffles in and crouches in the same place as the man before. They reach out to my arm and I jerk away from them, only succeeding in cracking my head against the wall. They sigh, shuffle closer, and press two fingers to my pulse. They take their count and then grab at my arm again, and their fingers wrap around my wrist.

“You’re ice cold,” they say.

“I sleep in a fucking drafty ass barn, of course I’m cold,” I mutter.

They hum and squeeze my wrist momentarily before standing and dropping a paper bag at their feet.

“Get some rest,” they say. “You’ll need it.”

They leave and I wait till the door closes to reach out to the bag. Inside, I find a chunk of bread, a couple of slices of cheese, a small apple, and a bottle of water. I nearly  ball up the bag and chuck it across the barn, but my stomach growls. I sigh and reach into the bag and take out each item, placing the bread, apple, and cheese in my lap. I set the water on the floor and tear the bag open to make a sort of placemat. I reorganize the food on the torn up bag and stare at it, momentarily wondering why the hell I even set it up like this.

I shake my head and eat what little food I’ve been given.

“Found anything?”

“Some locals have been shooed off their land recently,” Clint says. “They saw some weird shit going down a few weeks back and now they’re being asked to leave.”

“I think they said someone offered to buy their plots to try and get them to leave,” Bucky adds.

“Weird,” Sam says. “They got any idea where these people are holed up?”

“Not from what we can tell,” Clint sighs. “I think they’re too freaked out to try and look into it.”

“Which is understandable, considering the firepower some of these goons apparently have,” Bucky shakes his head. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to just find one guy.”

“I know, Buck.”

“I might be able to help with that.”

“How?”

“We’ve been cleared for aerial recon. I’ll be flying out around the area you’re in later today. See if there’s anything I can find that you can’t see on the ground.”

“How long have you been working on this?” Bucky asks.

“I put in a request the day after you talked to Steve. Had a helluva time trying to get Ross to agree, but Stark suggested that there’d be no way anyone would ever sign the accords if he let one of their own disappear without a trace.”

“Thank him for us,” Clint says.

“Will do.”

Anxious to get the search underway, Bucky asks, “How soon can you get out here?”

“I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“Great, we’ll go back over what we’ve got and send you anything useful. Has Natasha found anything since she last called?”

“Not much, but I’ll let her know you could use whatever she’s got.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. See you guys soon.”

“See you.”

Sam hangs up and Bucky leans back in his seat.

“That’s good news,” Clint says. “We’ll be able to cover more ground now. Find her faster.”

Bucky nods absently. “It’s been almost a week.”

“I know.” Clint takes Bucky’s hand. “We’ll find her. She’s strong, we’ll-” his voice breaks and he takes a deep breath. “We’ll get her back.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up into a smile. “You keep saying that.”

“Because we will.”

“Say it enough times, and it’ll come true, right?”

Clint nods. “Exactly. She’s probably doing her best for us. We have to be strong for her too.”

“I know.” Bucky takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. “We’ll find her.”

“We will.” Clint kisses the back of Bucky’s hand. “We absolutely will.”

“Yeah, this place looks real sketchy.”

“Explain,” Bucky says.

“The barn is old and rickety, probably a little too close to falling down to keep any kind of livestock in. There’s a building that’s attached though, and it’s newer.”

“Can you get a closer look?”

“Not a chance. Shit’s on lock-down. At least twenty guys around the perimeter, and who knows what else inside.”

Bucky sighs and lays back in the grass. “We’ve been watching this dump for two days. We’re pretty fuckin sure she’s in there. Can we please just rush in and start shooting?”

“Not yet,” Clint says.

“Please, Clint.”

“Give it a day, man,” Sam says. “Let them get a little restless and see what they do. They might just bring (Y/N) to us.”

“It’d give us time to get Steve and Nat up here,” Clint adds. “Extra hands on this would make it easier for us to focus on getting to (Y/N) instead of avoiding getting shot.”

“Fine. But only because we could use the help.”

“I’ll do another lap and then I’m headed back to the compound. I’ll call you guys when we’ve got a plan of attack.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Clint says. “We’ll talk to you soon.”

They hang up and Bucky reaches out for Clint’s hand. Clint laces their fingers and sighs softly.

“We’re so close,” Bucky mutters.

“I know. She’s less than a mile away now.” Clint’s gaze is distant.

Bucky recognizes Clint closing himself off, preparing for the worst. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“You’re shutting down.” Bucky sighs and squeezes Clint’s hand. “She’s not dead.”

“Buck…”

“If she were, they wouldn’t need so many guards.”

“I know, I’m just… I’m just worried.”

“I know.”

Clint flops down beside him and rolls onto his side. “You’re not supposed to be the optimist here.”

“Yeah well, it’s not fun to be pessimistic if we’re both dragging each other down.” Bucky looks over at Clint and offers a small smile. “We’re close. We’ll get her back. There’s no other option.”

“Did you hear what Todd was saying earlier?”

"What're you talking about, man?"

"He said scanners picked up on two bodies a little over a mile away."

"No shit?"

"Yeah, and there was something buzzing by the barn yesterday and today. Said boss lady's real freaked out."

"You think it could be the Avengers?"

The first man laughs. "Why the hell would the Avengers be interested in us? It's not like we've done anything to them."

"I dunno, man. What about this chick?"

"What about her?"

"I think she was with the Avengers for a while. Like I think I saw her on TV at one point."

"Nah, man, that was the Falcon. There's only one Avenger with wings and it's a dude in a suit. We're home free."

“I dunno, man… I got a bad feeling about that.”

“Look, it’s two guys. What can they do against all of us?”

The second man laughs hesitantly. “I guess you’re right.”

I cough into my elbow and freeze when their eyes snap to me. I curl into myself, hoping that they’ll just ignore me and go back to their conversation.

“You got something to add, freak?” the first man asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

He squints at me. “You think someone’s looking for you?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur.

“How the fuck do you not know?”

Anger flares in my stomach. “I don’t know what time it is most of the time. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. So forgive me if I don’t know jack fuckin shit about whatever it is you two are bickering about in your little doorway over there.”

The first man squinted at me and gestured to his friend. “Get the boss.”

“Which one?”

“Both of ‘em.”

“Oh shit.”

The second man ran off in search of the bosses. I can only assume the first man meant the Doctor and her right hand man. I think I’d be worried, if I didn’t know that the Doctor wants me alive for whatever other tests she’s got planned. Besides that, my mind is buzzing with what the two men were talking about. Just the idea of Clint and Bucky knowing where I am fills me with just a little hope.

The second man returns, flanked by three burly guards, followed by the Doctor and her right hand man. The two men from before and the guards wrestle me up from the floor and I do what I can to push back against them. My legs are still shackled to the floor, so I can't get far, but I manage to punch one of the guards in the eye. He stumbles back, clutching his face.

"Don't fucking touch me," I hiss.

The Doctor’s right hand steps up and slaps me across the face. My head snaps to the side and heat blooms in my cheek. The guard I punched kicks me in the stomach, forcing the air from my lungs. I hang in the grip of my captors and they force me onto my knees. I glance up to find the Doctor leaning over me, holding something out to her right hand. He forces my wings flat against my back and he works with the Doctor to belt them down.

“Chain her up,” the Doctor instructs. “Don’t touch her wings, and don’t break any bones.”

She’s answered with a chorus of “Yes, ma’am.” and she walks out of the barn.

“What do we do, boss?” the first man asks.

The right hand tuts. “You hit her, of course, you empty headed morons.”

“Don’t be a puss about it,” I add. I’m going to regret egging them on, but there’s only so much they can do to me, and Clint and Bucky are so close. “Really make it count.”

“Oh, believe me, bird girl,” the right hand says. “We will.”

-----------

Part 9

Honestly, I do not like hurting characters, and I promise we’re nearly at the end of the pain. It’s totally cool if anyone’s still kind of upset with me lmao

As always, I’d love to hear what you guys think, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag List:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23 @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement​, @lady-thor-foster​, @jazzcutie​, @gaytonystark​, @geeksareunique​, @nyxveracity​, @breezy1415​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @darling-loki​, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​

This fic:

@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​

[weltonreject]

if someday the moon calls you

|| inspired by this post: years after leaving las vegas, theo’s only companion is the moon. he speaks to it as if it was Boris, his lost badr al-dine || ao3

It wasn’t a ritual, Theo told himself, so it wasn’t weird. It wasn’t obsessive or anything perverse like that. Theo just didn’t have anyone else to talk to on the long days that outlasted Theo’s patience, then left him in an anxious solitude while Hobie turned in early-- and Kitsey was out with her roommate. Instead of picking up the phone and attempting to reconcile the reality that there was no number for Theo to punch in, he just opened his bedroom window and sat along the ledge.

He lit a cigarette and kicked off his shoes, opening a beer for himself and then another for the other side of the window. For the other side of the conversation.

“Hey, Boris.” Theo said, cupping his lighter’s flame. “Work sucked today. Not as bad as last week but still fucking terrible-- I’ve got this fucking asshole after me over a goddamn armoire. Listen man, it’s not my fault you fucking spent your retirement on a place to put your moth-eaten suit jackets. That’s on you.”

Theo coughed on his first inhale, laughing for himself. For them both.

“I’m sure it’ll all blow over soon. It’s a hassle more than anything. It’s so hard to get anything done when he’s always calling me in the shop-- Oh! Speaking of the shop-- you’ll get a kick out of this, Boris.”

The moon was full that night. All the stars accounted for, present and listening.

“This Polish couple came in today looking at some chairs. Kind of sweet, right? Old and married for probably their entire lives.” Theo wasn’t sure when he found such a thing endearing. When he was talking to anyone else, the thought terrified him. “And they’re speaking to each other in Polish, of course. And fuck if I remember anything you taught me now. I missed all of their sentences and what they were actually looking for-- they never told me! It’s not entirely my fault as a shit salesman-- but I did catch what this lady called her husband. It was, uh, it was that cookie thing you kept telling me about when we were cross faded and 'stuck' in your blankets for six hours... Fuck, uh, chrusciki. Is that how you say it?”

Theo paused, trying to remember the woman’s voice. It only came back to him as a very energetic and hungry teenage boy.

Theo took a long swig of his beer, not fully exhaling his cigarette drag. His chest itched, but he kept swallowing and pretending it was simply heartburn.

“And, well, semi-related to that: I had lunch with Kitsey today.” Theo paused again, biting the inside of his cheek. “The engagement party is next week. Yeah... can’t believe it either. I don’t remember asking her-- still not sure I did.”

Theo laughed and wished someone else would too. It was a joke. The world could laugh-- it was funny. Only Theo could tangle himself up so badly even he forgot where the lie started.

“I miss you a lot lately."

That part had gotten both easier and more difficult to say as the months wore on. Easy because it was the only bit of truth left in Theo's life, but impossible to stomach on the days Theo knew admitting it meant nothing except squeezing an already bleeding wound.

"I mean, I miss you all the time but it’s weird, getting married that is. It isn’t until I see Kitsey getting all her girlfriends together for drinks and game nights and shopping days that I... I start to realize that I’m lonely. That what I feel every day is just... loneliness. That it’s disappointment. That I just... really miss you, Boris.”

The moon seemed perfectly aligned with the window pane. Theo shifted the other, full beer bottle to fit more evenly in the moonbeam over them.

“I hope you’re doing okay, Boris. Last time we talked, I guessed you were back in Europe-- Spain, I think I said, right? Well, I hope Barcelona was fun. That you didn’t do anything too stupid, had some really good food, and didn’t wind up in a prison where you don’t know the language.”

Theo smiled, imagining Boris-- in his fuzzy, undefined Adult Way Theo always conjured up-- wandering around during Golden Hour and waving to every person passing by. He always had a persimmon in his hand for some reason, chomping and chewing behind his smile. Theo had no idea how to correctly prepare a persimmon, but he always imagined that it was knowledge New Boris would have and use daily. Something he’d immediately share upon their reunion. 

“I’m sure you had a great time, as always. Can’t wait to hear all about it. Next week you’re going to, uh,” Theo paused. “New Zealand, right? Yeah. Have fun going back Under! I’d ask you to keep a journal or something but. We both know your handwriting is illegible; you’d end up reading it to me anyway.”

Giving Boris a continuing life was comforting-- something to picture when he tried to sleep at night, Kitsey’s arm resting over his chest and trying to still his heart-- but part of Theo knew it was too polished. Theo wasn’t giving Boris the proper life, wasn’t accounting for everything he could be doing out... wherever he was. Theo never considered that talking to the moon was the equivalent of talking to a dead man.

And he never would.

“When you’re finished in New Zealand, if you want to be still for a little, um, I always have room here.” Theo inhaled sharply through his nose-- nearly sniffling. “Popper would love to see you... Me too. Maybe you could talk me out of this mess. Fuck, if Platt or Kitsey or even Ms. Barbour met you they might just call the whole thing off. Name you as my best man and watch them all start freaking out.”

Theo couldn’t laugh. He was too close to crying.

“The wedding’s going to be open bar. You should come. It’s next year, early spring. I already saved you, you know, saved you a seat at one of the tables. Tried to get you as close to the bar as possible-- without being too obvious of course. I know you like to have a little discretion and class. I plan on having neither of those things, let me tell you. God, Kitsey is going to hate me for it but: What can I do? I’m getting married.”

To a woman hung at the edge of Theo’s tongue, being pulled back in as he took another drag from his cigarette. He could hear Boris placating his cyclical panic in the rustling of the trees and quiet breeze: Is not big deal, Potter. Are two boys, yes but-- Potter, would you shut up! Is not bad thing. Keep to self and I keep to mine. All fine. No girlfriends, very normal-- yes?

Even in having a girlfriend, Theo still hadn’t found that particular normal. He only felt it loitering behind him.

“I wonder if you meant all that back then.” Theo put his half-empty beer in front of Boris’s, as if the bottles could stare at each other. “You never let me feel used, you know that? Sure, we were doing weird shit together, but it always had a rationale. It was fine because we didn’t have any girls around, we were happy drunk, I’d had a bad day and you knew how much I liked sleeping close to you-- it was always explainable... It was always okay. I mean, it wasn’t. We were fooling around which, obviously, is the wrong idea about us both but--”

The wind stopped and the night hushed for Theo. It leaned back and let the moon lean in to listen more closely. He looked up to meet its gaze.

“Why is it when I don’t need an excuse or explanation to be with someone that I feel the most used?” The answer was obvious in the silence-- the absence of the answer. “What am I supposed to do, Boris? I don’t think I ever planned this far.”

Everything was just a plan of waiting; waiting until Boris turned up in New York so the rest of Theo’s life could pick up where it had splintered. But the waiting turned into irreversible actions when Theo was at his most destructive.

“This is what I get, right? Running away to be a New Yorker again when I so obviously was a far better Vegas burnout. I mean, I learned from the best after all.”

God, Theo hoped Boris was as far away from that desert as possible. Had a house and a steady income and someone who listened to all his ranting and raving-- and sometimes even put up with it.

Although, sometimes, the thought of Boris being with anyone else made Theo sick. He at least knew his on-coming marriage was a sham. Boris didn’t know how to love people dishonestly; if Boris was with anyone, it was because he had opened his heart and life to them. Just the way he had to Theo-- before he turned around and shut Boris out.

Theo picked up his beer again, nearly finishing the rest of it in one gulp. If Theo had planned better-- at least in this area of his life-- it would’ve been something stronger. He wouldn’t have been speaking in complete sentences anymore. His slurred incoherence would’ve lent itself to a near-livable dream where Theo was no longer talking to himself; he could’ve been staring at the moon and pretending it wasn’t just another light over a bustling city, but instead the same one that hovered over the blankets of sands that tried to soak Theo up when he was too young to know that heat wasn’t always warmth.

“I think I’m going to turn in soon, Boris, I... I think I need to lay down.” The window was going to remain open, beer still on the ledge. “As always I really... really wish you were here.”

Theo placed his feet back on the floor.

“Please be alive. And please come back to me. Soon as you can, okay?”

The muted brightness of the moon remained unwavering, and low, distant rumbling held off on any clouds. The sky was clear, the stillness breathing through the silent pause.

“Okay. Good night, Boris.” Theo stubbed his cigarette out at the feet of the full beer bottle. The condensation surrounding it caused the cigarette butt to hiss as it extinguished. “Stay safe.”

Well, and of course:

“I love you.”

[threeconsecutivefs]

Heather: Daichi x Reader

Ooh, first song fic.  Man i have like five drafts in store, why am I making another one.  

Summary:  You’ve been in love with Daichi since your third year, but the love is unreciprocated.  Things go south and you’re left alone.

Warnings: Angsty, jealousy? hell yeah.  Like, one curse word.

Notes:  I think it’s gender neutral.  If it’s not, just tell me!  Also, there are weird things in the midst of them.  Don’t want you to get too sad :)

(I want to just sit in his lap and be embraced by all of his 4 thicc limbs... no more, no less.)

Word Count: 1.8K words, 9.4 characters.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

╔═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╗

I still remember

Third of December

Me in your sweater

You said it looked better

On me, than it did you

╚═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╝

“(Y/N), aren’t you cold?”  Daichi asked as we walked home one autumn evening as he began to slide his bag off.  “Where’s your coat?” 

“I didn’t think practice would go on for so long, Daichi.  If I did, I would have definitely brought a sweater.  And before you say I should have gone home, I... kinda got mesmerized by your practice.”  I smiled softly at him with my arms holding each other.

“Here,” He took his team jacket off and draped it upon my body. “I’ll walk you back to your place.  You can give it back to me when we get there.”

I blushed and grinned while sliding my arms through the jacket.  It was already warm, and I could have just fell asleep in the middle of the road.  The jacket should have smelled sweaty, but in reality, it smelled really nice.

“It looks really good on you,”  He smiled down on me as he patted my head. “Better than it does on me if I do say so myself.”

Only if you knew

How much I liked you

I know he doesn’t see me the way I see him because it’s blatantly obvious when I see him look at her.

╔═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╗

But I watch your eyes, as she

Walks by

What a sight for

Sore eyes

Brighter than a

Blue sky

She's got you

Mesmerized

While I die

╚═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╝

“Kageyama and Hinata are really getting better and better every pra-”  He paused and stared at the doorway, and none other than Yui Michimiya, the girl who has him smiling whenever she walks by.  As he moseys on over to her, I can’t help to feel a twinge of sadness.  He’ll drop everything for her.  She likes him too.  From the way she gets flustered around him or connects with him through volleyball,  it’s as plain as daylight.

I tuck my head into my arms because he likes her, and she likes him.  It’s the perfect scenario.  But slowly inside, I can’t help but wish to be in her place.

╔═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╗

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half, as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester, but you like her better

╚═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╝

Why should I feel so heartbroken?  It’s not like I’ve ever been an option.  She has charm, looks, and everything else I don’t.  Now when we go have lunch, she joins, and they both look 70 times happier.  He’s not as stern and she’s not as awkward anymore.  They suit each other.

We become friends, and the three of us hang out together all the time.  But now there’s only one sweater for two people.  I shouldn’t have expected the special treatment to continue.  The two of them become less flustered around each other as their chemistry continues to grow.  It was only a matter of time before it was them on the bike and me in the sidecar.  (A/N: This is giving me Hagrid’s motorbike vibes, and now I can’t stop laughing.)

“Michimiya, are you chilly?” Daichi asks in his deep and caring voice as he slides his jacket off of his shoulders.  “You should have dressed warmly today, it’s barely even 50 ºF(10 ºC).”

“I’ll be fine!  Won’t you be cold too? I don’t want you catching a cold before your practice game tomorrow”  She looks up at him and smiles, but as a breeze slowly makes its way through us, she shivers.  

He covers her with his jacket, zippering it up so she can’t move her arms.  As she stomps her foot in fake frustration.  “Don’t worry about me, I’ll just jog home so I can keep myself warm.”  He grins and grabs the sleeves of the jacket as he drags her off into the distance. 

I stand there, watching the two as they run around and laugh, like a mother watching her child run off with a friend at the playground.  After spacing out for a moment, I sprint to catch up with them.

They reach her house, and they bid their goodbyes, but when she asks about his jacket, he tells her she can keep it.

I stand across the street, watching the scene play down as I begin to amble back home.  He was so much kinder to her.  Letting her keep his jacket hurt more than it should have.  I tell myself that it’s just an act of kindness, no more, no less, but deep down, I know otherwise.

Wish I were Heather

╔═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╗

Watch as she stands with

Her holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder

Now I'm getting colder

╚═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╝

Two years later, they begin dating.  There was never a time they were apart.  Daichi in the police academy and Yui in the local college.  We shared an apartment, two rooms, one for me, one for them.  On Fridays, we watched movies– or more like I watched movies.  They watched each other.  Sitting on the couch with your arm resting on her shoulders and her hand in yours.  I sat on the ottoman at the side of the room.  If he was happy, so was I, no matter how much I yearned to be in her place.

╔═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╗

But how could I hate her?

She's such an angel

But then again, kinda

Wish she were dead, as she

╚═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╝

 She’s wonderful in every way.  Her smile, her laugh, what’s not to like.  They’re in love, and I can’t do anything about it.  She super sweet and caring to me, even though we don’t talk all too much.  I can’t help but smile around her too, but at the same time, I wish she was dead.

“(Y/N)?  You there?” Daichi calls through my door.  “Lunch is ready if you’re hungry.” He knocks on the door again.

Curled up in my bed, I smile at the sound of his voice while tears roll down my face.  I sit up and wipe the tears off my face, but when I try to reply, I’m barely able to choke out my words to him, “Mmhmm... I’m coming.”  Gazing at the rain dripping down the window, I sniffle and get up in order to go eat, but before I can do that, Daichi comes in, only to see me looking miserable

“Hey, hey... are you ok?”  He questions, walking over to sit next to me on the bed. “You look like you’ve been crying for the past hour.  You never come out to spend time with us.” As he brings me closer to his chest, I can’t help but feel worse inside because it’s obvious that he sees this only as a platonic action.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I responded, pulling myself away from him.  Unfortunately, that triggers the inner dad in him and he continues to push me to tell him.

 “I don’t want to tell you!”

“It’ll make you feel better, bottling your emo-”

“OK FINE! Fine. I’ll tell you.”  I snap and stand up abruptly.  Daichi stares with wide eyes, taken aback by my sudden actions.

“I love you... So much.”  I plop on the floor, “And not like a platonic, ‘We’re friends, and we love each other as friends.’ kinda thing.  It’s gotten to the point where I can’t stop feeling hurt whenever you’re with her” Cue the frantic handwaving, “And I know you don’t feel the same way, it’s been obvious since our third year.  Wow...  heh... this felt really good to let out.”

Daichi is beyond stunned, almost as if he was told that he was going to a father.  I couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly at him.

“I- I... WHAT?”  His eyes were practically popping out of his head, and honestly, that was probably the best reaction he could have given me.  But as soon as he said that, he walked out of my room, and closed the door behind him.  

A couple of days passed, and he didn’t say much, even if I tried to crack a couple of jokes.  (Insert this face)

“I mean, it’s not like you need it more than Oscar the Grouch does” 

“Mmm”

I began to crumple even more because of this.  After a week, he had done enough for me to realize he didn’t want to talk to me.  Movie night?  Sitting with Yui in a passionate kiss.  Lunch?  A discussion of their day.  Hangouts?  I wasn’t invited.  If I chimed in, I was ignored.  

I might as well be on a show called, “What Not To Do When:  Confession Edition” 

(Gonna cut the song short here)

╔═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╗

Wish I were Heather

Wish I were Heather

╚═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╝

Fury flowed through my veins as I punched the pillow laying on the couch.  

“I WISH I WERE HER.  FREAKING PERFECT IN EVEN IF SHE FUCKS SOMETHING UP.  NO MATTER WHAT SHE DOES, IT’S WONDERFUL.  I TELL HIM ONE THING- GODDAMMIT.  GODDAMMIT, GODDAMMIT, GODDammit...”  My voice trailed off as I saw Daichi standing at the door.  With tears flowing down my face, I look at the man as he looks at me with the same face he did when I told him.  

“Why do you look at me like that?  Why is it that every time that we even remotely interact with each other you look at me like that?  It’s like you never expected this to happen!”  I wipe my tears with my sleeve and storm up to him. “Why isn’t it plain as day?  You EXPECT me to be perfectly fine after days- DAYS of you looking at me like a stranger and ignoring everything I say?  That’s not how I work, and you know that!  I told you I didn’t want to tell you, and you poked and prodded at me to tell you, and when I told you, you left.”  I weakly punched him in the chest. “I wish I were her.  I wish you would look at me like you do at her.  But that’s never going to happen because you’re infatuated by her.”

╔═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╗

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester, but you like her better

Wish I were

╚═══*.·:·.✧    ✦    ✧.·:·.*═══╝

“Why would you ever do that? There’s no reason for you to because all I am is a pebble beside you.  I don’t even exist at this point to you.  I wish I were-”  Daichi stepped out of the way to show her standing behind him.

“Yui.”

(A/N: I had no idea how to end thisssss.  I’m dying rn.)

(Masterlist) (Part 2)