#he realises how much he misses you and flies back home then next day to see you

[killa-trav]

Oliver Bearman: No lunch, hug from Lewis and a bad back - my F1 Debut

Ferrari's 18-year-old might not have realised his dream had his parents decided on a carpet for Christmas over buying their eldest child a go-kart when he was six

The first grand prix video game that Oliver Bearman played on his Xbox in his Chelmsford home was F1 2012, for which the advertisers’ tagline read: “Be the Driver. Live the Life. Go Compete”. When he was choosing which driver to adopt as his in-game persona, Bearman would alternate. “I used to always pick Jenson Button or Lewis Hamilton,” he says. “They were the home heroes.”

Last weekend on the helter-skelter street circuit in Jeddah, he was given a more three-dimensional experience of Hamilton’s racing. As one of Ferrari’s reserve drivers, the 18-year-old was catapulted from the F2 meeting in which he had secured pole position to compete in his first Formula 1 race, with Carlos Sainz struck down by an appendicitis. He became the youngest British driver to race in a grand prix and the third youngest of any nationality.

In the closing stages, he found himself pursued by Hamilton and Lando Norris, both on fresher tyres and expected to gain ground quickly on Bearman’s Ferrari. Remarkably, the teenager held them off, finishing in seventh place, and the first person to greet him as he strode unsteadily out of his car was Hamilton, the seven-times world champion.

“I can’t really remember what he said,” Bearman says. “He shook my hand, gave me a hug, which was a great moment. I’ve grown up watching these guys and to have shared a track with them was just an honour. To have recognition from Lewis, one of the greatest in our sport, was a very proud moment.”

What Bearman had just done would have seemed, to most teenagers, like stepping directly through the screen and into one of those video games. Be the driver? Tick. Go compete? Tick. Live the life? Well, he did for one weekend, even if he was back that night, after the race, in the budget Ibis hotel where all the F2 drivers had been billeted.

This week he returned to a dose of relative normality at his flat in Modena, from where he spoke to The Times. He is based at the Ferrari Driver Academy and walking into the company factory on Tuesday, he glanced at the big screens around the building that are usually showing footage of Sainz and Charles Leclerc in action. Bearman had to pause momentarily when he looked up to see his own image.

Over the past couple of days he has been testing near Venice with his F2 team, Prema, beginning preparations for his next race in Australia, for which he flies out on Saturday. As Sainz is expected to have recovered, Bearman should be back in his F2 car in Melbourne, but last weekend demonstrated the need to be ready for anything and Bearman, with composure beyond his years, showed that he was more than equal to the task.

May the G-force be with you

When he eventually made it back to his hotel room, the first thing he did, naturally, was to watch the entire race back. “The race finished about 10pm, you have about 1½ hours of media and then you’re into a debrief with the team,” he says. “By the time I got back to the hotel, it was 1am, and by the time I got to sleep it was half two, because I had to watch the race. We had a flight at 11am, so I slept for five hours, which didn’t help because I needed some recovery. But I had to watch the race. I’ve watched it maybe five times now.”

How did it feel watching it back? “The first time I was like, ‘Ah, I missed a bit of lap time there, I should have overtaken there,’ ” he says. “But now I’m really happy with what I achieved. I don’t think I could have asked much more of myself, considering the circumstances.”

The next morning he had breakfast with his F2 team and realised how gingerly he was walking, having experienced the G-force — up to about 5G — of an F1 car for the first time, in a race almost twice the length of his usual outings, with over 50 laps and about 1hr 40min of time on the track. His seat had been swiftly installed in Sainz’s car and the indentations in his headrest gave an indication of how he had been jolted around.

“Most of the pain was from my lower back,” he says. “The neck is a given, but Jeddah is one of the most difficult tracks. Even the straights, they twist quite a bit, which doesn’t look much, but when you repeat it 50 times, there’s no rest. With my back, I’m quite tall [6ft 2in], F1 cars are very tight and not built for comfort. Everything was very last minute. When I made the seat, I didn’t think I’d be having to use it.”

Bearman was struck by the physical differences from F2. “We don’t have as much downforce or G-force in F2, so the strain is much less,” he says. “But we don’t have power steering in F2, so the steering work is super-heavy. When I’ve finished an F2 race, my arms are usually tired, but apart from that I’m fine. In F1, the steering is very light, but it’s everything else. You’re just getting thrown around. Muscles you don’t feel like you’re engaging, they’re aching the next day.

“And it’s exhausting; you lose a lot of water, I couldn’t believe how sweaty I was. The race is so long. Every time you cross the finish line, the dash pops up with how many laps [there are] to go. I could have sworn that number stayed frozen for a couple of laps. When I got to 25 laps, I was like, ‘Wow, we’re only halfway!’ It was a big challenge. But I really enjoyed it.”

'I realised this is really happening'

Ever since he sat behind the wheel of his first go-kart, a Christmas present at the age of six, Bearman has displayed a relish for the challenges of racing, with an exceptional ability to learn quickly. It is only 3½ years since he moved from karting to racing cars and his progress has been swift. His prowess in karting led to a Formula 4 opportunity in 2021 with the same Van Amersfoort Racing team with whom Max Verstappen had driven, and his results were spectacular. The next season he drove in Formula 3, the next in Formula 2, finishing sixth last year in the drivers’ standings.

But the step he was being asked to take on Friday, shortly after ordering chicken and rice for lunch in his Jeddah hotel, was something else altogether. After securing pole position for the F2 race, he had enjoyed a relaxing morning and was ready to eat alongside his father, David, his manager, Chris Harfield, Jamie Smith, his former kart mechanic, and other members of his team.

“I was feeling really chilled, I’d been in the gym and we didn’t have to be on the track until 3pm,” he says. “And then I got the call.” That came from Frédéric Vasseur, the Ferrari team principal. “I could guess what was about to be said,” Bearman says. “Something just clicked and I was, like, ‘Right, this is it.’ They said we had to be at the track in half an hour. My food didn’t even come out. I skipped lunch completely and went straight to the track.”

Within three hours he would be in the final practice session, with qualifying to come that evening. “When I got to the track, the news hadn’t been announced, so no one was taking any notice of me,” he says. “By the time I was walking to the car, everyone knew, and I was shocked at the amount of people gathering. That was very nerve-racking; I’m not used to that attention. And I got nervous when I saw some of the big stars. But that all made me realise: this is really happening.”

From kart track to street circuit

On the fastest street circuit in the F1 calendar, despite less than an hour of practising in the car, Bearman drove admirably in qualifying, coming 11th and only missing out on the final ten-car session by finishing 0.036sec behind Hamilton. For the first few laps of the race the next day, he achieved the aim of keeping out of trouble before the chance to exhibit his native racing instincts presented itself.

On the 11th lap, shortly after a safety car interlude, Bearman found himself behind the RB-Honda of Yuki Tsunoda. He dummied to pass on the right, prompting Tsunoda to cover his tracks, only to duck inside and pass on the left.

“It was a nice overtake, I was happy with that one, I’ve watched it back quite a few times,” Bearman says. “A lot of your racecraft comes from karting; I remember from eight, nine years old, racing bumper to bumper for the entire race. Those dummy moves are perfect, especially in karting without wing mirrors. It still works if you time it well.”

From an early age, Bearman had developed a passion for cars, inherited from his father. David had raced at club level and Bearman would go along to the track whenever possible. He developed a knack for identifying the makes and models of cars. “I’d have been able to name every single car on the road,” he says. “I was a bit of a nerd with that. At home, I had a bunch of model cars. A lot of kids have their thing, mine was model cars. I had a Bentley, a Ferrari, a jeep. I had my own little world there. Once I’d got my first kart, I just couldn’t wait to go racing.”

Perfect Christmas present for a boy racer

That first kart, bought in Christmas 2011, might not have come his way if his parents — David and his mum, Terri — had opted instead to buy the new carpet that was sorely needed at the family home. “We had some old lino that I absolutely hated,” David says. “We were either getting the carpet for Christmas or the go-kart. We scraped together the £1,500 for the go-kart and knew it was worth it the first time he jumped in; he just had a beaming smile all over his face.”

Once Bearman had given some early glimpses of his talent, at the age of eight he was entered into the British Championships, which meant long weekends on the road up and down the country for father and son. Bearman was often the youngest in his race, experiences that would prove formative. “One race, at Buckmore Park, I was up against some 12-year-olds and they just looked huge compared to me,” he says. “I remember the nerves. It was a rolling start and I got spun round before the race even started. They saw I was a novice and said, ‘Let’s get rid of this guy.’ But I loved those weekends and I learnt a lot.”

The problem was that the better Bearman became, the greater the cost involved in financing the hobby. His father knew from his own attempts to compete in motorsport how prohibitive the costs could be and realised he needed to be prepared. He had started an insurance broking firm in east London with his sister and brother and realised that the business needed to bring in more money if he was going to be able to support his son’s hobby, with two other children as well, Thomas, now 14, another budding racer, and Amalie, now 12.

In Ollie’s early teens, the next competitive step would have been to start travelling around Europe to compete in the FIA Karting Championship, but that was not a viable option. “You get the best karters in Europe, but the problem for us was twofold,” David says. “One, it’s very expensive, and we couldn’t afford it. Two, you’re taking the kids out of education, some of them at ten or 11. Yes, we were supporting him in sport but we didn’t know it was potentially a career. There are no guarantees in life and his education was really important.”

The insurance business, Aventum, has grown considerably, is now housed in smart offices in the City and has been one of Ollie’s primary sponsors. “We’ve had to keep upping our game and attracting more sponsors,” David says. “If you look at Ollie’s F2 car, every little bit is covered in sponsorship. I don’t own our business, we’re all shareholders; we can’t blow money just because it’s Ollie, there has to be a genuine return.

“But people look at this sport and think it’s for the elite only. Anyone can do it if you work hard enough and have the right mindset. Ollie is the proof of that.”

Passed GCSEs and a failed driving test

It was when Ollie’s success in F4 attracted the attention of Ferrari that the possibility of a career in the sport became tangible. He had just completed his GCSEs, with glowing results, at King Edward’s, a grammar school in Chelmsford, and a place at the Ferrari Driver Academy was an exciting prospect, but he had only just turned 16 and the idea of moving abroad without his family was daunting. “At the start, I missed my family and I tried to get home as much as possible to see them, it was tough and I was lonely,” Ollie says. “Now I still miss them, but I’ve got lots of friends here and I’ve grown up a bit.”

Learning the language was another challenge into which Bearman threw himself. A little more than two years later, he has picked up Italian to the extent that even his spoken English now comes with something of a lilt. “My friends do make fun of me for sounding a bit international,” he says. “Latin was compulsory at my school and I remember thinking, ‘I’m never going to need this,’ but it’s come in handy.”

On his returns to Essex, he now has the luxury of being able to drive on English roads, having passed his driving test 18 months ago. While he had already been identified by Ferrari as a future world champion, it was not something that impressed his driving examiner. “I failed my test the first time, which was really embarrassing. I asked [the examiner] if he liked F1, he said he hated it, and he failed me because he reckoned I didn’t stop at a stop sign. It was so difficult for me, things like how they want you to feed the [steering] wheel, it’s counterintuitive for me. I had to put a lot of thinking into that. I only took one lesson, I thought it would be easy. I found out the hard way that it wasn’t.”

He spends three or four days per month in England now and every time he returns home he hopes that he is still recognised by his dogs, Freddie, an English bull terrier, and Ruby, a Boston terrier. “I can’t Facetime them like I can my family,” he says. “But they always seem excited to see me.”

He still misses his family, but he knows that he is in the right place to continue his exhilarating progress towards one of those coveted regular seats in F1. “I’ve been making sacrifices all my life,” he says. “When I was younger, it was little things like birthday parties when I was away karting on weekends. My schoolmates would laugh when I said in year three that I wanted to be an F1 driver. Now I miss out on seeing family and friends. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat and I’ll keep doing it to make my dream a reality.”

BY JOHN WESTERBY FOR THE TIMES

#this is really long and really worth the read #will make u cry #hes literally my son n im so proud of him #ollie bearman

[dragon-kazansky]

Head in the clouds

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Reader

Gender neutral reader

[Masterlist]

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Warnings: None. Reader has a good talk with Maverick and realises they’re a dumbass.

The past was supposed to stay in the past, but with Goose and Maverick getting into Top Gun, it would seem that it’s repeating itself. No matter what you do, you can never escape Tom Kazansky.

Word count: 2.2k

Chapter Ten - Heart of glass

♡♡♡

You look up with the sound of an engine revving close by. Your eyes land on Maverick who comes to a stop. He remains on his bike as he looks over at you. You smile softly and head on over, not wasting any time on climbing on the back. Your arms snake around him and you hold on tight as he drives off.

He only stops when he reaches the air field. You can hear jets in the sky as he comes to a stop, giving you a good view of the runway. You settle with him on the bike, watching the jets come and go.

“How was it?” He asks, breaking the air.

“It wasn’t a date if that what you were implying. It was fine.”

Maverick chuckles quietly as he shakes his head at you. Pete had always been able to read you like a book. You sigh softly.

“I can’t be in the same room as him without my thoughts turning to how handsome he is and how much I miss him. I really screwed things up, Mav.”

Pete reaches out and places his hands on your arms.

“It’s not too late to turn things around and fix this,” he tells you.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? What’s changed? You both still hold feelings or each other and you’re here. Maybe this is the universe pushing you two back together.”

“Mav, shut up!”

He laughs. The sound makes you smile. He always knows how to make you smile. You were glad he was able to come and pick you up.

“Tell me how it went,” he says.

“He ordered for us, we sat down, he brought up our first date. We talked. I remembered the first kiss. We were suppose to meet up as friends and just catch up, but it ended up being awkward. He wanted to take me home, but I refused and called you. He looked... disappointed at the end. I feel like he wanted more, but... I can’t do that, Pete.”

“Do you want to be with him?” He asks you.

“Pete...”

“Do you?”

“Yes...”

“The only thing stopping you from getting that is yourself. Ice is more than ready to forgive and forget. He loves you and I know it. He wants you. He misses you.”

A jet flies right over your heads and you find yourself looking up to watch it fly over. Maverick pulls your attention back to him and you look at him with a teary gaze. He sighs and pulls you into a hug. You cling to him.

“Let him in.”

“He wants to know why I left.”

“So tell him.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why? What’s even holding you back?”

“Myself!” You exclaim. “I left because I thought I couldn’t handle it. Do you realise how stupid it would be to admit that when I’m still friends with you and Goose? I wait for you guys to come home all the time and then I wave you off again while you go off and so another crazy job. I cope because I know I can handle it. Therefore defeating the whole reason I left!”

Maverick flicks your forehead and stares at you blankly. You glare at him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Funny, coming from you,” you say.

“No, really. You’re an idiot. Just tell him you were scared because you were so damn in love him. Confess your regret and tell him you still love him, that you miss him. The man may not be my best friend right now, but I don’t have to be friends with the man to know he’s in love with you.”

“I don’t think I can do it.”

He holds your hands and looks you in the eye.

“Your heart is made of glass. I can see he occupies it, but every time you try and give yourself a reason to force him out, your heart begins to crack. One day it will shatter and there will be no way to put it back together. Seal the cracks before they get too big. Let him stay there.”

“Pete,” you can’t hold back your tears. “I love him.”

“I know,” he chuckles. You fall against Pete’s shoulder and he holds you as you let your feelings out. Jets continue to come and go.

Maverick stays out with you until you’ve calmed down an ready to go home. He stays for a bit before letting you go off to bed with the promise of calling you tomorrow. You wave him off and go to bed, but sleep doesn’t come easy. You’re up for hours thinking about Tom Kazansky and his stupidly handsome face.

The next morning Mav calls you before he heads to base. You smile and thank him for checking in on you. You promise him you’re fine and you’ll see him later.

As Pete enters the class, he spots Tom already there. The man is fiddling with his pen, waiting for the others to arrive. Mav takes his seat next to Goose. Ice looks up as Mav passes him and sits down. His eyes settle on him for a moment, but when Maverick glances over his shoulder at him, he looks away. Goose leans in.

“What happened?”

“Ice is in love,” Maverick replies, keeping his voice low.

Goose glances up at Ice and then grins as he turns back Maverick. They high five just out of sight from Ice.

When class is dismissed and the boys head out to get into their jets for a practise run, Mav hangs back to walk with Ice. Iceman just eyes him as they walk across the tarmac.

“What?” Ice asks, seeing that Mitchell wasn’t going to leave any time soon. Slider pretends not to listen in as he stops next to their jet.

“Do what you want with this information, but they broke down crying last night. Over you. Nothing is going to change here between us, but I’m hoping you’re smart enough to let something change between the two of you. If I graduate Top Gun without the two of you flying off into the sunset, why did I bother?” Mav shrugs. He walks away.

Ice watches him go.

His shoulders drop. He ignores the last statement in favour of paying attention to the bit about you crying over him. Yesterday didn’t end the way he wanted it to, but he was still grateful he got to send that time with you. Did you hope for something else too? Did you want more? If you did, you’re the reason he didn’t go any further. You were the one to remind him it wasn’t a date.

He wanted it to be a date.

The thought that you really were over him did cross his mind, but if Maverick was telling him the truth, then nothing had changed. You loved him. At least, he hoped you still did. Until you say the words to him yourself, he won’t take hem seriously.

Slider nudges his arm and breaks his thought process.

“What are you going to do?” He asks his pilot.

Ice smiles at him and says, quite simply, “fly.”

Slider furrows his brow as he watches Ice walk around him and climb up onto the wing of the jet. He feels like he missed something big, and he’ll be sure to get the answer later. For now, they needed to get up into the air.

You hadn’t left your house. Carole had called and asked if you wanted to come around and have some lunch together. She mostly just wanted to ask about your ‘not date’ and you knew it, so you declined. She offered to come over, but you made up an excuse as if you were just leaving the house. Even over the phone she knew you were lying, but she didn’t poke any more.

You spent the day alone watching TV as you curled up on the sofa.

The day came and went before you knew it. You were almost dosing off when the phone rang. You jerked up and sighed, staring at the phone on the wall. You get up and answer it. It’s Goose.

“Hey Goose.”

“Tomorrow we’re taking you out. No Ice, just us. Beach day. Sun, sea, sand. No excuses.”

You grin and lean against the wall.

“Fine. Better pack a towel,” you chuckle. You ask Goose about his day, he doesn’t mention Ice once and you’re thankful for it. The conversation ends you feel the need to turn in for the night. You barely move from the phone when someone knocks on your door.

“Maverick, if that’s you I’ll kill you!” You yell. You yank open the door and freeze.

“I’m hurt you expect to see him at your door,” Tom says, leaning against your doorframe.

“What are you doing here?”

“Cheering you up,” he says. You now notice the pizza box in his hand and the flowers. You stare at him.

“Tom-”

“Don’t say anything. Take the flowers and invite me in.”

You don’t have the energy to push him away. Well, you do, the fact is you want him here. You want to be with him. You just don’t want to admit it.

You take the flowers and let him in. Tom enters your living room and places the pizza box on your table. You put the flowers in a vase and join him as he sits on your sofa.

“How did you know?” You ask.

“Maverick told me.”

“Damn him,” you sigh. You grab a slice of pizza and sit back. You didn’t realise how hungry you were. Tom grabs a slice for himself and turns his attention to you.

Beautiful.

That’s all he can think as he looks at you. 

He eats his pizza slice. You eat yours. It doesn’t feel awkward any more. It’s another natural thing for you to feel so comfortable with him.

“I was thinking, tomorrow we could meet up. I’ll bring Slider along if you want. Maybe bring Goose?”

“Ah-”

“Not as a date, I know. That’s why we bring others. Make it a little more friendly.”

“No, it’s not that. I’ve made plans with Goose already. I’m spending the day with them tomorrow.”

“Right. Yeah, that’s fine. Some other time,” he leans back and rests his head against the sofa. For someone who oozed confidence every day among his fellow pilots, he sure was loosing it today.

You sit up instantly.

“It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you. I do. It’s just, Goose has been my friend forever. I’ve known him longer than you. He comes first these days.”

Tom turns his head and you meet his bright blue eyes.

“I know,” he says.

You slump down next to him and look at him with a soft smile.

“Anyway, don’t you need to focus on your Top Gun training. You want to remain in first place right?” You tease him.

He smiles at you.

“I do.”

“Then you focus on that for me tomorrow. I’ll spend the day with my friends and we can hang out some other time.”

“I want to be your friend,” he says.

“You are,” you tell him. “You are.”

Ice smiles. His heart is racing, but you wouldn’t be able to tell just from looking at him. All you can see is a man who is content with that result. You smile softly at him and admire him.

You had time to put things right.

“You have fun tomorrow. I’m flying with Maverick and Goose the day after. Have to see if Maverick has what it takes to be my wingman.”

You give him a gentle nudge.

“I’ll have a word with him before hand. I’m aware of what he’s like. He’s not much different here on the ground,” you tell him.

“He’s dangerous.”

“I know, but that’s Maverick for you.”

“I don’t like it,” he tells you.

You reach for his hand and slowly entwine your fingers with his. It takes everything in him not to look down at your hand. The way your hand feels in his takes him back to the days where he would do this all the time.

“Be careful,” you say to him.

“You too.”

You smile softly.

“I’m not the one who has to fly with him.”

“No, but still.”

Your thumb brushes along his.

“You want a beer before you go?” You offer. He shakes his head.

“Not tonight.”

“OK.”

You slowly let go of his hand and reach over for another slice of pizza. The loss of contact makes him sad, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s grateful he even got to hold your hand for a little while. He missed the feeling. You offer him a slice and he takes it, deciding he’ll leave after this slice.

He came and he saw you, that’s all he wanted to do. That, and you seem to be in a better mood.

You see him out again. He stands on your doorstep. He turns and looks at you. Tom is committing this to memory. The image of you looking at him like that. There is a softness to you, a calmness that takes all his worries away.

“What?” You ask softly.

“Nothing,” he smiles.

You’re confused, but he won’t elaborate. He becomes brave and dares to kiss your cheek. He leaves before you can even register what he just did. Your cheek tingles where his lips made contact. It was over so quick and done so gently, you could have imagined it, but the look on his face as he drives away tells you it happened.

You watch his car go.

The Iceman knew what he was doing, and you were falling for it.

Falling for him all over again.

♡♡♡

@lieutenantn - @juniebugg - @shianshian4315 - @midnightdevotion - @sitkafay - @luckyladycreator2 - @mischief-siriusly-managed - @littlebadariell - @constellationscharts - @swisswitchmn - @callsignthirsty - @sarahissilent - @marchingicenotes7 - @kassieesworld - @topgun-imagines - @fanboyluvr -

#iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x reader #iceman #tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #top gun 1986 #top gun #head in the clouds

[rockingrobin69]

Blossomed

“Thought I’d find you here.”

He opened one eye slowly, blinking at the bright light. “Oh no. My secret hiding spot is ruined.”

Laughter rang through the orchard as a heavy figure landed next to him. Draco wasn’t sure if he’s been asleep, exactly, but it felt like waking up; the world was a bit hazy, fuzzy around the edges. The smell of apple blossoms now fused into something heavier, orange and musky.

“Alberto said you like to come here before your shifts.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Alberto talks too much.”

“Nah, he’s alright. I sort of bribed him into it. There were pies involved and everything, I didn’t leave the poor bloke much of a choice.”

Now Draco opened both eyes. Po—Harry was leaning against a trunk beside him, and his whole face was one big smile.

“Well, that,” was all Draco managed for a minute and a half. “I mean. That’s cheating.”

That made him laugh. “I didn’t realise it was against the rules.”

“There aren’t rules. I just thought… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you ask about me?” Draco wrapped an arm around his knees. That was the tip of the iceberg, really, of all the questions burning on his tongue: why are you still here and surely they miss you back home and was it on purpose, the other night?

Harry frowned like he didn’t understand. “Because I wanted to see you?”

Draco shook his head, and the shadow of the wide brimmed hat danced above his eyes. “You were supposed to go back last week. You have your recipes, there’s nothing more on the island for you.”

“Nothing more?” green eyes opened wide, sad.

“What more would you—” swallowing didn’t use to be such an ordeal—“want?”

Harry took a deep breath, and the nerves that were so evident on him a second ago melted into something comfortable and warm, something fond. “I thought I made that clear.”

“You don’t… be serious.”

“I am.” He scooted closer on the ground, and Draco didn’t know whether to lean towards him or run away. “I thought you knew why I came to the restaurant every day.”

“You wanted… Alberto has the…”

A hand startled him, gentle under his chin. Draco was so entranced by the smile he missed it coming. “He gave me everything I needed the first week. After that, I only came for you.”

He could only blink in response. Harry tipped Draco’s hat upwards, so it wouldn’t hit his nose. Then, with a groan, removed it altogether.

“You have to know, don’t you? How I feel. After that night.”

That night, in this very orchard, with only the stars and the apples to bear witness, when they danced to the chirping of grasshoppers and flies until they collapsed on the warm ground. Draco blinked at the smiling, freckled face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Are you joking?” Harry asked, although he was the one laughing. “I’ve been so obvious, everyone—oh, Draco. You’re such a brilliant, wonderful idiot.”

“Takes one,” he murmured before he had any time to think. “Wait, so. The reason you stayed is… what you wanted was…”

“You, you marvelous twit,” now they were both laughing, with awe and relief and bewilderment, “I wanted you. Of course, for you.”

The light was so bright without his hat, it was harder to make the surroundings. Only Harry’s face, so close; only the little lines around his eyes, the unwavering way his smile went even wider, even softer.  

“Alberto thought maybe you were settling in,” Draco admitted breathlessly. “That you wanted to open your own place down here.”

“Or maybe work with you,” was Harry’s impossible, nonsensical reply, and he was entirely serious. Draco’s heart did something strange in his chest, tight and weightless.

“If Alberto agrees.”

They shared a quick, almost-chuckle. “If you’ll have me.”

“Yes.” He said the first without thinking. Then, after a minute: “Yes, of course.”

They looked at each other. The world smelled of apple blossom, of oranges and sweat and smiles and soft hands. The orchard rang with the raucous beating of his heart: a chaotic, elated melody, of summer, of happiness.

#drarry #hard times soft fic #chef Harry #he's writing a recipe book #waiter Draco #summer #fluff #700 words #RockingRobin69 #sending you all sunlight and happiness

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Rekindling Romance Masterlist

All Over Again (ao3) - roryonice

Summary: It’s almost Christmas, and Phil goes back to his hometown to win back his high school love after five and a half years.

arms unfolding (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: It's been two years since Dan and Phil have seen each other after an explosive break up. But now, a few years later when they're both a bit more certain of themselves, maybe, just maybe, they can make it work again.

'cause I want what I want, but with you it's what I need (ao3) - t_hens

Summary: Phil had one rule: don't think of Dan, but that's hard to do when they bump into each other three years after Dan left.

Don't Leave Me (Please Come Back) (ao3) - roryonice

Summary: Dan and Phil broke up in high school and haven’t seen each other in seven years, but when Dan gets the lead role in a Broadway musical, Phil flies across the country to see Dan and they realise that breaking up may have been a mistake.

everything comes back to you (ao3) - curiosityandrain

Summary: Dan and Phil grew up together in a small town, where they had a secret relationship throughout their last year of school. When it comes time to leave for university, they lose contact. Three years later, they’re both back home for summer break and decide to reconnect. They soon realize how much they missed each other. After a whole summer spent together and a road trip with old friends, Dan and Phil begin to wonder whether or not they should continue what there once was between them.

In the shadow of your heart (ao3) - croissantbleu (orphan_account)

Summary: Dan and Phil fell apart a few years ago, and if Phil seemed to have no problem getting used to his new life back in Manchester with his husband Noah, Dan has a few more difficulties moving on. But when Phil comes down to London to attend Louise’s party and ends up having to stay with Dan for a few days, who can tell what will happen.

One last time (ao3) - outphan

Summary: 2009, Dan and Phil met. 2017, Dan and Phil broke up. 2022, Dan and Phil meet again.

In which Dan and Phil go out for an innocent dinner after 5 years. However the evening turns completely around.

Our Flaws Are Aligned (ao3) - phantasizeit

Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers, but they hate each other. Phil is reminded of this when he’s forced to interact with him at the Spain Creator’s Summit. Their situation isn’t helped by their complicated past when their firecracker relationship crashed and burned. When Stop, Speak, Support contacts Phil to be a headlining speaker in their tour across schools in the UK, he is more than excited, until he finds out he’ll working next to his YouTube enemy. Phil doesn’t expect their time planning the tour together to rekindle old feelings he thought he’d long since buried.

Resurrection (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan Howell died 10 years ago, or that’s what Phil Lester thought. After 10 years and having to move on, Phil’s life quickly changes when his supposed-to-be dead ex-boyfriend shows up on his porch.

Retrace, Retry (ao3) - catboydan

Summary: In 2012, Dan left Manchester and Phil didn’t follow. Dan didn’t let him. Now, it’s 2016 and Dan returns to retrace his steps and maybe, possibly, have a chance at a second try. Heavily inspired by the song Retrace by Anberlin.

things we leave unspoken (ao3) - zvyozdochka

Summary: There were things Dan never expected Phil to find, and likewise, Phil never did tell Dan about the ring in his closet. After they collapsed in 2012, that wasn't exactly an option. But 2017 was a fresh start in so many ways- why not for them as well?

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #drifting apart #breakup #gettingtogether #rekindlingromance #rekindlingromance masterlist

[https-brown-eyes]

STOP IT! YOURE GONNA MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE!

#I just keep thinking no about you and Pedro are on a FaceTime date because he’s working on another movie #You tell him that you have a surprise for him and go and change into some cute dress that’s a bit revealing #he looks at you like this for a while and you laugh as you tell him to stop #he realises how much he misses you and flies back home then next day to see you #pedro Pascal #imagine

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

look i didn’t want to be a sour kid

god, it's brutal out here: and percy jackson knows what that means. scars on his body like pulled threads. calluses on his palms from pens that turn into swords, coins that turn into weapons, hands that curl into fists. walking home after an annoying day at school and having to fight the troll on the bridge. you must give me something in order to pass my territory. he gives it death. it gives him another shirt to wash blood stains out of. gods with too much arrogance giving him quests with too little return policy. body that doesn't want to cooperate after he blows up a mountain. body that wants to move too fast when he needs to follow a plan. heart that gets broken and rebuilt with different materials every day. god it’s brutal out here: and percy jackson knows it’s brutal in here too.

traitor: and percy jackson has never felt a word more like a branding in his entire life. he thinks back to the summer he turned thirteen and he sees scorpion tails flashing behind his eyelids. and he sees blonde hair and sometimes he can't differentiate between her and him and them and him. and he sees a scar and he wonders if the cut was deep enough to lose goodness. and he thinks maybe he wouldn’t have minded so much if someone had just told him what was going on. and that makes him a traitor too. and he sees it now, how easily he would succumb to the scorpion tail. how he would welcome the bliss of losing his goodness. who’s to say it’s true goodness anyway? and he remembers the red curls and the summer of beach walks and glass houses and the look of betrayal when plastic hairbrush meets yankees cap. is he a traitor then? to his own feelings? surely not. must be. neither of them liked it. he liked them. traitor, but to who? and remembers the day he left a girl on an island and promised to help her and couldn’t in the end. he remembers eyes of fire at his incompetence. and he is a betrayer. but only to others. traitor: and percy jackson thinks he’s never really betrayed anyone but himself.

got my driver’s license: and percy jackson is growing up so fast his limbs can't keep up. one leg is slightly longer than the other and it makes him clumsy. his left hand is bigger than his right and he uses it to punch. he flies a pegasus for the first time and he understands why mortals are always so angry. they will never know this unbridled freedom. and he gets kissed by a girl and he thinks his skin understands the heat of the sun. and his hair becomes curls instead of waves and he has to clip it> push it> tie it back because it keeps getting in his eyes. and his mom asks him if he wants “blue cake this year?” and he has to tell her he’ll never be too old for it because she’s scared he’s going to grow out of her love. he is not. and paul teaches him how to read a book without feeling like his eyes are drowning and he can’t believe he’s learning to read in high school. and he is moving through the days like water, finding a way around everything. got my driver’s license: and percy jackson knows it’s only a matter of time before he gets a death sentence too.

it’s always one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson is waking up with no sense of who he is. he is carrying a goddess on his back and he doesn’t even know who his mother is. he is stepping across a river and erasing the curse of indestructible. he is again a demigod with too much vulnerability and not enough care. and he is being flung to an island where time doesn’t move and he doesn’t want to either. and he is healing like he never has before. and he is leaving and not even the girl who loves him can keep him there because he loves another girl and she doesn’t know she loves him back. and he is taking the sky from a friend and he is giving the sky to a goddess and he is leaving a hunter to see the stars and he is watching a new hunter evade the fate they are cursed with. and he was relieved from this burden for one brief second in time. burden of what? burden of sky? burden of prophecy? burden of death? and they are all handed back to him, presented with no other option. they are not the weights in the balancing scale. they are the scale and he is the weights. one step forward and three steps back: and percy jackson wonders if he can go far back enough to erase his own existence. 

i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is hurtled to summers spent in a camp, next to a girl, next to a satyr, next to a friend. and he is living his life in montauk with his mom and he is watching red hair fly in the wind, paint smudges on their  skin. and he is remembering how everything is different every year but he can still see the fire wall from his cabin and the smell of wild strawberries is the only thing his scent receptors know how to identify. and he knows solstice could bring death or happiness and he’s starting to think one doesn’t exist and one exists too much. and he sees people who love him and show it in ways he knows. blue candy has never been a complicated feeling. and doesn’t see people who love him in ways he doesn’t know. seaweed brain, let me come with you into the labyrinth, become praetor with me. and he thinks his childhood disappeared the day his mother was kidnapped and is it possible to have déjà vu if you’ve never lived enough to experience something once. and he thinks maybe the god of the sun gets déjà vu every time he pulls the star across the sky because it’s all about warmth isn’t it? your body’s way of saying we’ve been here before and we survived. i know you get déjà vu: and percy jackson is sure he has lived a thousand lives in this one alone.

good for you: and percy jackson is craving a life that doesn’t involve this madness. he is jealous of the kid in his science class that accidentally knocks over the bunsen burner and only gets a disapproving look from the teacher. his nose bleed starts a war. he is jealous of the neireids that simply become the water and wait for the world to stop burning itself to the ground. you look happy and healthy and he looks like he’s missing five years of his life and no way of moving forward. he is tired and he wants to sleep but the last time he did that it was six months later and he couldn’t remember anything. and he wants to sink to the bottom of the ocean but he is still exhaling mud because he drowned in sludge once. and he is too young to be this exhausted but. good for you: and percy jackson wants to become the villain.

all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is struggling with the expectations people who don't know him want him to have. he is twelve and the teacher hands back a test face down and he knows he’s going to shove it into the pit of his bag before he can be scathed by a red pen. he is thirteen and his mother has finally given herself the hero ending she deserves but he is still this little kid who doesn’t know how to handle the world and if she doesn’t need him to protect her what is his purpose? he is a teenager watching people have silent conversations about his fate and getting no replies when he asks too. as if it is ridiculous to involve himself in these discussions. he can't be the one, it’s not possible. and wait she is here, from her tree grave. no, she is gone, to her hunter fate. wait they are here from their timeless casino. no she is gone and he is young. far too young. and he can’t do this and he can’t do that and he isn’t there yet, not powerful, too reckless, too loyal. the monsters realise his potential and use it to hurt him. the people don't realise his potential and wish he would use it. all i ever wanted was to be enough for you: and percy jackson is too far gone to be of use.

i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson cannot fall in love unless it’s with her. and he has seen the beauty of people and he wants to keep them all close and he doesn’t know how to do it because she keeps him in her grasp. deathly afraid of spiders she says but she has built a web so big he can't move without getting caught. and he goes to a scorned girl on a secluded beach and he likes the way her eyes sparkle in the sun, how she plants the same way his mother does and he leaves her there because she doesn’t have a storm in her gaze. and he loses his memory and remembers only her and he knows it’s inescapable. and maybe he kind of loves it. nobody has ever really given him a choice anyway. at least this one he can love. i hope you're happy, but don't be happier: and percy jackson has never known happier anyway.

jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson is surrounded by the best. he is in a camp dedicated to people like him and he is still at the bottom. and he is on a quest that makes him the main perpetrator but he is still being puppeted along. and he cant help but wonder if he will turn out like the boy with the scarred face. and he cant help but wonder if he’ll turn out like the girl who grabbed a figurine. and he can't help but wonder if he’ll become a monster or a hero and what’s the difference really. everyone is fighting for a cause. it’s just the matter of whose side you're on. and he wants to know what will happen if he just lets go. he wants to be like the people who follow their cause. instead he is doing biddings. he is following orders. he is making things right. jealousy, jealousy: and percy jackson wants to know if he can be jealous of his own dreams.

i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson is a little kid with a long record. he is on the news plastered as a criminal endangering others, blowing up a bus. it is not the last destruction he causes. he learns to get clever about it. and he is on the news sobbing about his generous stepdad. generous about the bruises he administers, and the words he spits. generous about his appliances. and he is on the news for jumping off a bridge too high to survive. and he doesn’t really know if he will survive but when is he ever really sure he’s going to survive anyway? at least this was a choice. and he is always a criminal unable to plead his innocence. i hope i was your favorite crime: and percy jackson wonders if anyone cares about the injustices against him. 

you're okay: and percy jackson is staring at his reflection in the rippling water and he knows it’s time to forgive himself. he was just a child. with far too much responsibility and far too much guilt. he had seen death before he’d had his first kiss. he had felt pain before he felt comfort. he had never known safety. and now he is old enough to go wherever he wants and do whatever he wants and he has to forgive himself first. because he was just a kid with a hundred targets on his back and only a fierce need to survive protecting him. you’re okay: and percy jackson knows he will be. 

#percy jackson #percy jackson bday 2021 #percy jackson bday #pjjg percy jackson bday #percy #jackson #pjo #hoo #olivia rodrigo #sour #sour olivia rodrigo #if you repost this on instagram please take my pjo account: perseusandjason #thank you! #*lmao tag not take wow tumblr why do you hate me

[assortedvillainvault]

Hello again! I’m the one who asked for the flirting headcanons. I was actually hoping Vulgrim would be one of them, so thank you! :D. If you don’t mind, could you maybe do the same for Draven or the Chancellor too?

Hello!! I'm so glad you liked them!! :D

And DO MINE EYES DECEIVE ME, ANOTHER CHANCELLOR SIMP???? Brethren, sibling mine, I gift this to you, stay strong for content of our fave is scarce but our simping shall see us through this desert:

Draven x Reader Flirting HC's:

This Man? This corpse right here? Gallant, suave, lonely as all hell and absolutely 100% working himself into a knot over the idea of courting you.

It's been so SO long since he was alive, he has no idea if the rituals in his day are still the done thing. How many sheep would you even be worth?? All of them, he's sure, but there's no blasted sheep in the Undying Lands and no great enemies for him to slay and no flowers and he's terrible at poetry and why did he think he would be able to do this-

Only to be obliterated by your smile the next time you see him. He goes to kiss your hand without even thinking about it, only to freeze when your fingers gently meet his exposed teeth and Oh Gods above is that a blush?? That's a blush, stopstaringstopstaringstopstaring

His men are high fiving and exchanging coin in the background, you have their full support and this is the most entertained they've been in years.

He's very much one to show off while training, he's lost count of how many times he's narrowly avoided being stabbed due to his head being on a swivel to make sure you're watching

You're going to have to initiate touch, Draven doesn't want to sully you with his hands or his flaking skin or his exposed innards - but oh lord once you do he's addicted. He can't get enough of your softness, your warmth, and his hands are large enough to circle half your damn ribcage so there's going to be a Lot of Holding and Touching in the future.

Protective arm around your shoulders, Protective arm around your shoulders-

He's also one for slow walks through the Undercroft. He knows all the shortcuts, all the areas looking out over the clouds as the vast mass of the Eternal Throne flies along. He can't help but find you the most captivating part of the view. And it's a great place to kiss

Chancellor x Reader Flirting HC's:

hfbdhf RIP your standards you have no idea how or why this is happening and neither does he.

It's...slow, for want of a better word.

He doesn't even seem to realise that a lot of his usual scathing commentary becomes backhanded compliments when you're part of the discussion. Even the Lord of Bones has caught on, which is mortifying since he's asleep most of the time and annoyed for the rest.

To be fair, you're the only one who attempts regular conversation with the guy (if out of nothing but sheer boredom at first), the sight of you returning day after day to his plinth above the training grounds catches him off guard each time.

He thought you'd be cowed away after the last tongue lashing, but you're back?? Again?? Well, quite a glutton for punishment, aren't we~?

He all but collapses after you whip a retort right back at him, and the game begins. He's grill you on everything: your appearance, your attitude, your home, your friends, your choice of words...

Your smile is catty and vindictive, your voice melodious as it is biting, the colour in your cheeks rising to meet him a dead giveaway and, and...

oh dear

Enter denial, stage left

Avoidance, dismissal, dicouragement. A flash of something heavy and uncomfortable at your expression as he excuses himself again and again, his usual tactic of unpleasantness haveing had little effect so far, he beats retreat even as the guards and that damned Blademaster snicker around him.

Eventually, you get the message, and stop coming to visit. Instead choosing to make conversation with Ostegoth at the other end of the courtyard.

He's never been so bored. He can't believe he's grown to miss your constant chatter. He's also never been so Boiling Mad, how Dare that goat steal your attention from him?!

Chance please I stg your lack of self awareness kills me

Demands for you to come to Urgent Meetings and Pressing Matters make a remarkable uptick. The fact he looks like he's floundering for something for you to do when you arrive is not lost on you.

The jig is up when the Lord of Bones says something derogatory about your presence and The Chancellor imediately contradicts him, the most heated you've ever seen him.

Silence in the throne room.

Chancellor's head catches up with his mouth and he mumbles platitudes and excuses, leaving to god knows where. The Lord rolls his head toward Draven, smirks, and extends one gaunt hand to the Blademaster.

Draven huffs and hands over a remarkable amount of coin, while you blink to process what the hell just happened.

A note is found under your door sometime later, in elegant cursive, asking for your time alone the next day.

Being courted doesn't sound Too Bad, you think...

#bro I might have splurged on these I'm sorry #TY for the ask! #thalassa responds #x reader #draven #the chancellor #darksiders #draven x reader #chancellor x reader #headcannons ahoy #my GOD I love these two so much

[idjitlili]

Lurking in the dark.

Not my gif.

Summary:  Jareth uses a disguise to lurk around you before the Labyrinth like he did with Sarah, as an owl. Until you accidentally wish away your dog.

Warnings:mentions of tight pants. Mentions of feeling lonely.First smut...you’ve been warned, well just oral, and a handjob.

Word count:4325

A/n: low-key based in my home country, ah yes England.

Y/d/n=your dogs name, or change it to cat or fake pet.

Though you weren't 16, like Sarah, being an adult, Jareth felt pulled to you. No, he was not a pervert, times were different.  Maybe it was your love of your dog, maybe it's how lonesome you felt, that dog unknowingly brought hope into your life. Yes you did love your family, but sometimes you just got lonely.

Maybe it was your love of films, you could watch your favourite film a million times, yet feel so invested into watching it again. Maybe it was your stack of books, some you already had ,which were your favourite,but had gotten pocket editions or ones with different covers.

How Jareth had found you, well that was a different question, not him dressing down , changing his hair to place the labyrinth in difference book stores , illegally. Yes, that was how he had found you,when he had done that. Soon he had figured out, you regularly went to the book store, after following you home in his owl form.

This particular day had been most stressful, though the rain was calming, being drenched to the point your underwear were soaked, not like that. Frozen, you just wanted to get to Waterstones before they shut, practically running. Not only wanting to get there but also get home quick too.

Rushing into the store , the door closing behind you, the warm air embracing your freezing body, you just hoped you wouldn't get in trouble for being soaked in here. It wasn't like you were going to wipe your clothes on all the books , ruining them.

Then, of course more problems occurred; you could not for the life of you find a book you desired.  Sighing , you pushed your dripping hair from your face, you could only imagine how bad you looked in that moment.

Yet, you had continued your search, with no luck until a man had cleared his throat from next to you.

His hair clearly blond from his roots, the rest a light red colour almost ginger but not. His eyes bright blue, yet it seemed like he had heterochromia, aswell as larger pupil in his left eye. His cheekbones highly defined, his body skinny, overall the man was very handsome.

Turning to face the man, highly embarrassed by your state. "If you don't mind-" this is when you thought you was going to be asked to leave, your stomach dropped. "-hearing my suggestion." Okay, that still found like he was going to ask you to leave, but his voice wasn't aggressive.  "...okay?" You weren't sure what to say, only letting out a quiet word.

The man had reached up to the shelf above you , pulling down a small red book, so he wasn't kicking you out.  His pale hand gently holding the book in front of you, 'The labyrinth.' You had taken the book from him, to look for a summary , yet there wasn't one, nor a publisher or an author name.

"You take that home,on me, if you don't like bring it back."  

"W-wait, you d-" You didn't know this man, you felt guilty getting it for nothing, but he had interrupted you. "You've had a long day,clearly,  now go get home,y/n"  The man simply placed his hands on his hips waiting, his words followed out like water, turning to go do whatever he was doing.

"W-wait." He had spun around , his eyes looked at you in slight annoyance, hurrying you up. "What's your name?"

"Ziggy." You had looked at you watch at the same time, before looking back at the man- but he was gone. Thus, you left.  Hold on , how did he know your name?

Not spotting the owl, that stood on the lamp post watching you...

You had begun reading the book , as soon as you had gotten out of your soaking clothes , into warm ones. You wondered how Jareth could like a girl with no sense, no you didn't , you thought why she wearing her baby brother hat.

Yet, your dog would not allow you to sit in peace, shoving their toy under the cupboard making you get up and get it otherwise they wouldn't stop crying, or eating all their food and scratching for more. Then, they had knocked your drink everywhere with their toy.

Groaning in annoyance , for the hundredth time. "You know if the Goblin king was real, y/d/n, I'd wish for him to take you for a time out." Of course you handed read that far you didn't know what would really happen to him..

"You know what, I'll just say it, just in case. I wish the goblins would take you away, right now."   A crack of thunder had made you jump out of your skin turning towards it , before turning back hearing scratching on the floor, to see nothing, by this time it's pitch black, only light from a small lamp is seen , your dog is gone.

Suddenly the door crashes open, an owl flies in , before turning into a man. Not that you could see him much. "Uhm, I mean thanks for taking my dog for a time out , but uh thats dognapping, so.." He had only laughed loudly.

From what you you could see his hair was a huge blond mullet, there was glitter everywhere, and those pants...

"What's said is said."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" That wasn't legal, he had broken into your home and stole your dog.

"I have brought you a gift, it's a crystal, nothing more. but if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams. but this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of the dog.....do you want it? then forget the dog." You had scoffed at him, you could go ebay and get a crystal ball, who was this wannabe Gandalf?

"Sorry, no, I would like my dog." The king, looked disappointed with your answer, did he believe that would really work?

"don't defy me." His voice stern , as he threw a snake at you , but completely missed, coughing out a small laugh, as the man pretended it never happened.

"Y-you're no match for me."

"Stop with all the talk, how can I get y/d/n back?" With that , he had gestured you to come to the window, a huge maze could be seen, well labyrinth, instead of the dark sky. Turning back to Jareth, you realised you were no longer in your room, but outside the labyrinth.

"So, how does this work?"  You could clearly see the man now, known as Jareth , the Goblin king, his eyes seemed very familiar, left pupil bigger than the right.  He had pointed to a 13 hours clock, that had appeared.

"You have 13 hours in which to solve the labyrinth , and reach my castle, before your dog becomes one of us forever, such a pity." And boom he was a gone, not much to work from.

Now finding away into the labyrinth, indeed that seemed easy, of course it wasn't, no entrances , you thought of the only thing you could do... Climb the wall.  By the time you had gotten over , there stood Jareth in the tight pants.

"You know, there was a door. This shall be your only warning." Poof he was gone again, if you continued climbing walls maybe you'd have to compliment his pants. Next time put a bloody door.

Though you had no idea what in gods earth you was doing, you just decided to head straight forward as you could, thus to get to the castle quicker. Not going one away and ending going through the side door out of the labyrinth.

As you could expect, Jareth was not very happy that you were travelling through his labyrinth, like it was your house. In fact, he was angered, so much , that he wanted to pick you up, as if you were a rag doll and dump you to the start. Then again, you’d just go twice as fast through.

So, there sat Jareth on his throne, with your dog upon his lap, his little whip thing in hand. Suit up Jareth, your not Indiana Jones. Staring into the crystal ball, unable to think.

The fact you had gotten passed the sausage dogs without a second thought pushed Jareth over the edge... He had attempted to jump scare you, but of course it had went south. Jareth rarely had anyone not beat the Labyrinth, and honestly you’d think he would’ve improved it.

Jareth hadn’t spoken in your presence, to inform you that he was there, instead he had placed a hand onto your shoulder. What he was not expecting was you to turn around at sonic speed, punching him square in the face.

Stumbling back, him his boots, holding his now bloody nose, he had let out a yelp in surprise. He did not expect that, not at all.

You had reached some sort of lake, with a path down to a small house, when you had punched Jareth anyways.

After you had seen that it was Jareth that you had punched, who else would it be, guilty travelled up your body suffocating you. Almost instantly you had rushed to Jareth, ripping part of the end of your t-shirt, bringing the fabric to his nose. Pulling his bloody hand from his nose, with a harsh grip, since he lead stiff.

Your face was sweating, not only were you scared that he might kill you, but also you had felt bad for him, after the numerous times he had checked up on you. You wondered if he ever spoke to anyone other than the Goblins, you wondered if he could even leave this place without being wished.

Gripping his sharp jaw to move his face, allowing you to make get a better look at the bleeding, keeping the fabric to his nose, soaking all the blood up. You didn’t even know Faes bled.

“J-Jareth, I’m so sorry! You made me jump, I swear I didn’t do it on purp-“ Jareth liked the contact, the anger he felt before had slipped away, your soft fingers upon his skin, your favourite t-shirt now ruined as you had sacrificed it for his nose. Oh, and he knew that was your favourite shirt.

Your pleading e/c eyes staring into his mismatched ones, made both of your hearts beat fast than moments before. It almost made him forget why you were here; but when he did remember his eyes returned harsh. You only felt bad because you were frightened, he knew you’d leave him soon as you had beaten his labyrinth.

Oh how wrong he was.

Pulling away rudely, using his magic to pull a clock out of no where, using his gloved had to skip it forward three hours, smirking. Fake smirking, the quicker this ends the better, he could not bare to fall in love with a silly human girl again, just to be rejected.

Your eyes widened in confusion, your torn end of your t-shirt still in your hand, bloodied. “W-what?” 6 hours left.

Poof Jareth was gone yet again, oh and how he had some plans for you. Stood in brief shock of what had just occurred, trying to forget the tingles that had erupted down your hand, throughout your whole body, like electric shocks. Shaking it off, like you were about to warm up for pe , just like high school. Ew.

You had continued down the path, to the small house, and within minutes you had reached it. Didn’t seem like there was away around, only way was through.

Thankfully, it was unlocked, allowing you straight in. Only for it to slam close behind you, you didn’t think of anything of it, all you could think about in this moment was how your stomach was growling loudly.

The rag now placed into your back pocket, as you searched the tiny kitchen for anything, coming across an overly large strawberry, you didn’t even think before you had devoured it.

In that moment you heard it the door clicked, you had rushed to it testing it, locked, of course. Your feet now suddenly soaking wet , gulping you had looked down the floor covered in soapy water, rising dangerously. Surely he would not kill you?

All the windows now sealed shut, no upstairs , only the chimney , thankfully wide as. You did the only thing you could, your stomach turning, feeling light headed, the water reaching your knees.

You got in it, but the walls were too slippery so you held your breath just as the water got above your shoulders. Swimming up the chimney with the water, not full breast stroke of course, no room for that. The water pressure building at such a speed you ended up flying out the end of the chimney, no idea how that was even possible.

Then everything went black, soon entering a dream world...well no it wasn’t a dream. Now dressed in gown, at a ball, a masquerade, the room almost packed with guests with goblin like masks., all wearing big expensive gowns, or suite like attire. Loud laughter dimmed out by the loud gently music.. what.

Turning every which way, you felt like you were looking for something, just you could not recall what. A skinny man, with a bo dazzled suite, a long blond mullet with stripes of blue to match his suite, a diamond at his next instead of a tie or bow, frilly shirt. He held a similar goblin mask, only when you caught his eye he had pulled it away.

Only you and him without masks, his eyebrows with no ends, h-his strangely familiar eyes , his thin lips, you felt a strong pull towards him.

“There's such a sad love

Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel

Open and closed

Within your eyes

I'll place the sky.”

All you could do is stare at him, as the song began, mouth gapped at him, your dress that before felt heavy no felt like nothing, as he began walking towards you, through the people.

“Within your eyes

There's such a fooled heart

Beatin' so fast”

Trying to get passed the strange people, to get him, he simply danced with other people that already had partners, I mean, like pressed up against the partners.

“In search of new dreams

A love that will last

Within your heart

I'll place the moon

Within your heart

As the pain sweeps through.” He didn’t even try to get to you as you chased after him, these strange people suffocating you, getting in your way on purpose.

“Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone.” Then he was gone, your eyes searched the room, not seeing him hidden behind a fan behind you, continued your search. As he smirked behind you, oh how he couldn’t stop feeling the way he did about you, he thought it was funny how now you chased him instead of the other way around.

“Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down.” He had continued making his way through the people, in direct view , as you searched still.

“Falling

As the world falls down

Falling

Falling in love.” Squeezing through the people, feeling panicked, you had no idea what was happening, nor why you felt like this for a strange man, shoving pushed the people that circled you.

“I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now.” You had found him, as a fan moved, he stood sandwiched by two woman.

“We're choosing the path

Between the stars

I'll leave my love

Between the stars” Only then did he come towards you,his face should no emotion, you wondered how you had gotten here. Now with a mans hand out waist and the other in his hand as you danced.

“As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn't too much fun at all.” You couldn’t remember knowing how to dance, but you and Jareth done turns in sync with all the other dancers, staring deeply into his mismatched pupils.

“But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down

Falling” Jareth-how did you now know his name, now singing along, wow self loving much , who plays their own music. He had every right. Only then, did you feel yourself leaning to his lips.

“As the world falls down

Falling

Falling

As the world falls down.”

Jareth had noticed, leaning towards you as well, you felt your lips connect to his soft ones, as your eyes closed. That’s all it took for your remove your hands from his shoulder and hand bringing them up into his blond hair. Pulling his face towards yours, not allowing yourself to disconnect from him, you both had stopped dance at this point.

His arms now around your waist pulling you both closer together again, one of your hand now cupping his cheek, as you both kissed. Pulling away for a second to breathe, before pressing your lips against his again harshly this time, biting his lip hard, he had almost jumped, letting out a yelp, only then were you able insert your tongue into his mouth.

You both had long forgotten the people that surrounded you both. Jareths grip now tightened, your tongue fighting against his. Only until he had pulled your hair, pulling you from him lips, your eyes slammed shut, your hands now against his clothed chest, as he pressed kisses down your bare neck. A small moan had escaped your mouth, your hand travelling down to his pants. “Can I?” Jareth had looked into your eyes, his other pupil now almost reaching the same size as his other, nodding.

You hand cupping, his manhood, his pulse heightened under your touch, Jareth had groaned loudly, his bulging member against your palm, as Jareths hips had pushed against your hand for friction. Jareth now sucking harshly at your neck, rubbing your hand against him.

You had forgotten about the room full off people;but Jareth had definitely not, he did not want to take you in front of them, at this moment he didn’t care, he had not had pleasure in a very long time. Leaving your neck, Jareth had joined your lips again, biting your already swollen bottom lips, returning to sloppy small kisses, you had wished that Jareth had picked a less poofy dress.

Your hands leaving Jareths body, he had let out a small sigh, he had thought you had remembered, especially when you began to lift the bottom the dress. Only then did you notice the people, wide eye, but they were still dancing, even if they were looking, Jareth touch was intoxicating.

Your calf’s now on show, almost touching Jareth again, how starred down at you confused, as you looked up at him with a small grin, lifting your leg up and over hip. Instantly he had gripped the soft skin under your thigh, your dress now bunched up to your waist, as you wrapped your arms around Jareths neck.

Pressing your clothes core against, his bulging, your core soaking through, jumping up, so that both of your legs were now wrapped tightly against Jareth. Your lips on his, his hands travelling up your legs slowly, all the way to your waist again, wet kisses as your hips began to rock against Jareths stone member. Your stomach turning into knots against him.

Your clit pulsating against him, undoubtedly he could feel it too, your speed quickly increase, pushed Jareth over the edge with a loud groan, you were pressed against the stone floor. Still, you grinned harshly against him, his hands now either side of your head, his only your upper back against the floor.

Looking into his hungry eyes, pleading for him to do something, stopping your hip movements . “J-Jareth, a-are you sure we should do this here? W-with these people?” Jareth had only smirked at you lowering himself to your ear level. “Love, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, plus they can only see when I want them too, understand?” Whispering into your ear, that must be why they didn’t even look your way.

“Now, I must ask, do you want this? Definitely?” His face not inches from yours, his eyes searched yours. “Yes, please.” With that Jareth had unwrapped your legs from him, tearing the bottom of the dress, he was a very skinny man, it was a shame ‘twas a lovely dress. Only your underwear covered you bottom half now, your heels now discarded.

Snapping your legs closed in embarrassment, Jareth had lifted your leg by your calf pressed gently pecks all the way up, till he got your thigh, his eyes meeting yours as you sat up on your elbows, you had nodded at him, anyone would’ve been nervous, especially a virgin.

His lips now reattached to your soft skin on your thigh, gently he had pulled your legs apart , your heat had already been dripping from just kissing, but now it was a river. A snap of his fingers and your underwear were gone.

Jareths face now dangerously close, your whole lower parts on show to him, he had grinned up at you, his hot breath on your most sensitive area, sent chills through your core... literally. Jareth had groaned just feeling your thighs shake in his hands, his erection now painfully restricted.

With that he had slid his tongue up your folds one, letting out a gasp, you hadn’t been touched like this ever. He had brought a single figure to plunge into you, swirling it around you for only a second, his other hand now holding your stomach down, from your squirming underneath him. Removing the finger, his eyes locked onto your as he slipped it into his mouth, sucking on it, before pulling his finger out of his mouth with a pop.

His face satisfied with you, whimpering , he had barely touched you, yet you were pooling already, orgasm almost there, “please...” Parting your folds, he had slowly removed eye contact, his tongue now licking you like an icecream cone, your nerves on overdrive, he had plunged his tongue into you, his hand back on your thighs, squeezing as he swirled around in you. Your legs clenching on his head, grinding into his face.

“Jareth!” Considering you were quite shy, with men anyways, the moan of his name, caused Jareth to tighten his grip, tongue from your opening, he rolled your clit gently between his teeth, you hand cried out, your legs thrown over his shoulders, you could feel your orgasm coming. Pulling tightly at his long hair for more, a loud growl had erupted from his mouth, travelling through you, your stomach tightening.

So close to satisfaction, “J-Jareth..” His tongue had attached back onto your clit, bringing his fingers close to you, one of your legs still on his shoulder, the other leg, he had placed against the stone floor, spreading your legs widely, so that he could insert his finger into you. Your back now curved from the floor, adding two more fingers into your wet opening.

Sweat upon your face, like drops of rain water, allowing you a moment to adjust, Jareth had began to his fingers into you, his mouth detached, faster, and faster by the second. Spreading his fingers in you, you couldn’t hang on any longer. Your legs now shaking like hurricane, Jareth knew you was close, your head thrown back, as you finally met your orgasm.

Removing his fingers, as the please hit you like wrecking ball, throughout our lower half, you had let out a loud moan of pleasure. Your hips finally buckled , riding your orgasm in Jareths face. Panting heavily, Jareth had looking up , wiping the remaining of your juices on his palm.

“J-Jareth?” He now laid next to you, how was he still fully clothed? He had hummed in response. “C-can we just start with that for now,” You were worried, that he’d get angry, but instead he had just looked at you with a gently smile. “Of course, love.” Then you noticed, his painfully erected member, bringing your hand to his bulge rubbing him again, groaning in surprise.

“I-I’ve never done anything like this.” Jareth only nodded, as you stroked him through his pants, he wasn’t going to take your virginity not like this. He was a good man- fae sorry, he took all those children from people that didn’t want them. Shouldn’t be thinking about this right now.

Slipping you hand into Jareths pants, you stroked him harshly, rubbing the his tip gently with your thumb when you reached it, before repeating the cycle. Jareths lips upon yours , you could still taste yourself on him. Quickening your pace, soon enough his he had bitten down roughly onto your lip, as he came.

Yet again, you were both laying on the floor, laying your shoulders on his arm, that wrapped around you laying in his chest.

“Can I have my dog back? I mean- if you let me go back, you could come too, o-only if you want to anyways?” You had stuttered out your words , causing Jareth to laugh at you, he had a feeling you still remembered.

“Of course.”

#jareth x reader #the labyrinth #jareth #jareth imagine #Jareth x you #jareth imagines #the labyrinth imagines #goblin king #david bowie x reader #reader insert #the goblin king #the goblin king x reader #jareth smut

[honeyhenry]

Tiny Vol. 2: Kal + Will

you can read the first instalment of Tiny here!

A/N: I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! All the love for our sweet bear and Henry of course! And baby Will my new fave 😍

Warnings: Premature labour, a LOT of fluff 

as a family of three, you, Henry and Kal were the dream team

Kal had of course taken to you the moment you’d met him

a lot of the time Henry claimed you were more loving towards the big bear than him; “I’m your actual boyfriend, remember?”

Kal naturally being part of your inevitable wedding

hell, he was likely part of the proposal, as role of The Distractor, while Henry would wait on bended knee behind you

Kal knew that he didn’t have a place on the big kingsize bed, but that never stopped him from standing by the closed door of the bedroom whenever you and Henry were occupying it, waiting for either an invitation for cuddles, or for your day to start so he could have some company

and any available snacks, of course

On Henry’s birthday, just over a year into your marriage, you’d bribed the Akita with an extra large prime rib steak in the kitchen so that he could stay content downstairs, while you kept Henry more than content upstairs

It was only 3 weeks later that Kal started to press his large head onto your stomach

at first it was endearing, but over time he became persistent and Henry often had to get him to heel so that he would keep out of your way

it was only one missed period later that you realised your fluffy companion might have been onto something

with a fairly tame schedule for now, you and Henry had stopped “not trying” for a baby, deciding instead to just let it happen when it happened

and somehow Kal had been the first to find out that it had indeed, happened

over the next few weeks and months, it wasn’t just your large, concerned husband that was protective over you, but your bear of a dog too

by the time you were showing, Kal was in full guard dog form, growling at anyone who expressed any form of interest towards your growing belly

even Henry was on the receiving end of a warning growl now and then

but most of the time, Kal knew that Henry was likely safe, based on the look of love he often saw on his owner’s face towards you, and the special little moments his two humans have together with whatever is blooming within you

any strangers that get close to you would face the wrath of Kal because if whatever is happening gets this much love and attention, then it must be special to his Henry and his Mama

Kal hangs around you a lot, favouring you over Henry, especially in your last trimester

which makes Henry pout because damn it, Kal is taking his place most of the time

“Only because i’m carrying a little you.” you’d reassure your husband “he’ll be back to his Henry-loving ways after baby’s born.”

Kal often lays his big head on your bump when Henry isn’t there because he knows you’ll let him get away with it

but if Henry spots him he receives a “Kal, off!” just for your goofy husband to rest his own head there instead, chattering to the baby about things that sometimes have you falling asleep

his voice is soothing, yes

but his video game talk is just the perfect soundtrack for a nap

you get slower and slower as you enter the last few months

soon its just Kal and Henry going for walks together at the park

your bear always whined to you, pawing at your lap as you curl up on the sofa, while Henry would attempt to nod him over to the door

“Mumma can’t come today, she’s staying here with the baby. But she’ll call us if anything happens”

You get a soft kiss on the lips from one member of your family, and a lick on the hand from the fluffier one

Did you know it was Kal who saved the day, the morning you went into early labour?

you’d winced at a small twinge of pain, and then groaned out loud, taken by surprise as you had just been peeling some apples to be made into a stew

the sun was rising slowly, glinting the dewy grass out in the garden, your favourite view from the kitchen window

Henry was in his study, a floor up, with headphones on, completely oblivious to what was happening downstairs 

clinging to a table, you’d started to feel tight pain across your belly, issuing you with a mild dose of panic

of course, as Kal has been by your side for the past few months, he’s right there in an instant

he rushes over to you, sensing that something is wrong, watching you as you attempt to sit down on the floor to try and take control of the pain

he had pressed his big head to yours, nudging you as if to ask what he should do

“Get henry, go get Henry, Kal”

you didn’t have to tell him twice

he’d bolted to the study seeking out henry, knocking over everything he flies past, running as fast as he possibly can within the confines of the walls in the house

he was loudly barking the whole time, knowing that right now you are in jeopardy and that his Henry is your only saving grace 

he’d burst into Henry’s study nearly knocking the door off its hinges, almost jumping onto Henry’s lap

immediately Henry knew that something was wrong

normally a gentle giant around the house, Kal is bumping into things trying to reach his master, to get you the help you needed from Henry

“Kal, Kal show me where, what’s wrong. Is it Y/N? The baby? Mumma?”

He received a large bark in return, before Kal was rushing back to the kitchen to show his Henry where you were

Henry had raced behind Kal to where you were, panicking as he heard you call for him weakly

he eventually found you, sitting on the kitchen floor and clutching your belly in pain

Kal had stood by the door, watching Henry take over, his muscular form lifting you up and holding you close to get you to safety over on a soft chair

“it’s too early love, it’s got to be false contractions”

“they don’t feel false”

Kal had watched as Henry made a couple of calls, with sweat collecting at his brow

He had then spent a few moments with you, counting and calculating timings on his watch while you’d cried “it can’t be time, he’s not ready Henry”

Kal watched his Henry take your hands and stay close to you, trying to keep calm on the surface while making you a myriad of promises

just 10 minutes later, Kal had been left in the house alone 

his only hope was that you and his Henry will be okay when you return

he’d had a strange few days at a friend’s house

their garden was smaller and they had a cat, but Kal hadn't minded them too much

he had still been concerned about where his Henry and his Y/N went so suddenly

and why did you not want to take him with you?

On the Tuesday, Kal hears the words “You’re going back home today, to see your parents! And they have your baby brother waiting there too!”

Kal was delivered back home that afternoon, and comes bounding into the house, making a beeline for Henry who was waiting by the front door to greet his furry friend

You had stayed upstairs in the master bedroom with Will, making sure he was safe from the inevitable commotion downstairs

You’d heard Henry embrace Kal, talking to him like an old friend whom he hadn't seen in years

Kal was so riled up from being away for so long, and Henry still in a lovestruck daze from the last 72 hours

“I know we were gone so suddenly, but everything is okay. We’re back now, and we have someone special we want you to meet” you can hear your husband speak excitedly to the bear

Kal had whined in retaliation, as if to ask "why did you leave me, Henry? What could have possibly been so important?”

“Kal” and it’s Henry’s no nonsense voice that you’d recognised this time; “Your baby brother is upstairs with Mum but he is very little. Very, very small. And you’re a big bear. So we’re going to be calm. Okay? Calm and gentle bear, good boy.”

Henry's footsteps and the tinkling of Kal’s collar were becoming clearer and clearer before the door to the master bedroom creaks open 

and there stands Kal in all his fluffy glory

Henry is right by him, watching over every move Kal makes, with baited breath in case he decides to make a running leap towards you and your tiny bundle of joy

Henry had looked up to you with a gentle grin, ensuring the door was left open in the event of any sporadic movements, particularly if Kal wasn’t interested in this new person after all

“Knock knock, Kal’s promised to be good if he wants to see his brother”

Kal wants to jump up onto the bed but he knows he can’t, no matter how curious he is

so he just waits patiently by the bed, because whatever you were holding  seems important, especially given that Henry is being very stern with him

maybe this is the special thing that his Henry and Y/N had loved so much

he looks up at you as you lean down enough for him to see the baby’s little face 

“Kal, this is your baby brother. This is who all the fuss has been about. he’ll be able to play with you some day, when he’s a bit bigger.”

Kal blinks, taking the situation in

A new smell, a new person

A new, tiny Henry

At this realisation, he fondly rested his head in your lap right next to Will, receiving praise from Henry “easy boy, good boy Kal”

Kal makes an oath there and then to protect his tiny Henry

He sniffed a blanketed foot carefully, nuzzling it before staring at your sweet baby’s face

You look up at Henry briefly, and he’s already watching you as the rest of the scene plays out

“I think our boys are going to get along just fine” you murmur, basking in the fond greeting between Kal and baby Cavill

only for it to end a moment later when your son squeaks the quietest noise, causing Kal to back up quickly, shocked by the sound

“Ohh, are you saying hello to Kal honey? He is so gentle and fluffy isn’t he?” you’d cooed to the fidgeting bundle in your arms

“i think it’s Kal who needs to watch out around here now” Henry comments with a grin

Whenever Henry goes out to play fetch with Kal in the huge garden - it may as well be a football field - you’d watch carefully from the balcony window while cradling Will, pointing out his how his Daddy throws a ball or a stick, and how clever Kal is for fetching and returning it

whenever your older boys are done, they both scramble to be first back to see you and the youngest of the Cavill pack

Will is often found snoozing, giving Kal the perfect excuse to curl up right alongside his crib him to protect him, should anything threaten his soft sleepy snores

And if Will is sleeping in the crib in the master bedroom right beside you and Henry, Kal paws at the door until he is let in, taking his rightful spot curled up beside his new best friend

If you or Henry, or a loving relative or friend is holding him, there is Kal right by their side, as if to stake his claim; “this is my baby”

In the middle of the night when Will starts crying, Kal is there first to check on his tiny Henry before he runs for immediate assistance

cue Henry having tripped over Kal in the middle of the night several times now, as Kal had rushed to the master bedroom and Henry having rushed out of it in the dark

Usually the consequences involve Henry taking a bump to his shin or his head, with you having to get up, turn the light on and fetch a crying baby Will

So yes, Kal is in the nursery a lot of the time and yes, you need to install a couple of night lights in the hallways so that Henry doesn’t ultimately fall down the stairs or continue to injure himself via a fluffy Kal on a rescue mission

Henry always exclaims the next morning “I can’t believe he’s always in the room”

Which makes you laugh, replying “You’re just jealous he loves Will more than you now. I have to say Will is taking the badge for favourite Cavill of the month in this household”

Will sleeps a lot, and when Kal eventually gets bored, he sticks his big head into the crib, panting and waiting for his tiny Henry to pay him some attention

when you catch him, you rub his big head, letting him sit on the bed while you cradle a snoozing Will

however if Henry catches Kal with his head in the crib? Kal is out of the nursery for the rest of the day

“He can’t stick his head in like that, I’m not having him hurting Junior, accident or not”

So you need to unite your parenting tactics to train your dog before you use them to parent Will

When he’s not in his crib, Will is in one of the new moving cribs that Henry had researched to death before ordering and consequently building himself

That was an especially hot day in your pregnancy, and it was in December

Kal often just lays and watches his little best friend in it for as long as he likes, as he soon realises his large Henry will allow him to do that

sometimes you see Will laying in the crib with lots of dog toys around him

courtesy of Kal, of course

typically, Henry will be around to supervise, always thanking Kal on Junior’s behalf, engaging his two dependents in conversation; “oh look another toy, Will. Thank you Kal”

Kal would already be out of the room to fetch another toy while tiny Will is taking a hardcore nap

feeding and putting weight on is hard work!!

Henry definitely gets a few stares at the park now; a big beefy man, pushing a high-tech stroller, alongside an absolute unit of a dog

Kal is obedient as always, walking nicely beside the stroller with his two Henrys

he’s not even tempted by puddles or ducks or squirrels

his focus is on his best friends, especially the one wearing their brand new sweater to signify his move to newborn sized clothing at the age of 9 weeks

he loves watching his Henry and his Mama celebrate his tiny best friend, no matter how small their achievements - or sweaters - are

Kal is always gonna look out for his large Henry and his new tiny Henry, who both have the same dark curls and sparkly eyes

He is just the most wonderful big brother you could ever have wished for your little boy, and you’re sure they will get into heaps of laughs and trouble when Will grows up to become a rambunctious toddler, with peels of giggles coming from wherever the two will be playing together

Kal has the patience of a saint, and it’s why you don’t worry at all when you find out a couple years later, that there will be two more little Henry’s for him to play with and guard, with his whole fluffy being

---

let me know what you think / any questions / any requests HERE

#Henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fluff #dad!henry cavill #kal cavill #Kal + Will vibes #it's tiny will cavill's world we are all just living in it #cavillary

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Armin having a crush on you while you're dating Eren pt.3

{ Armin x reader, Eren x reader | suggestive | tw:possessive behaviour, tw:unhealthy-friendships, tw:toxic, tw:jealousy | angst, drama, pinning | modern }

{ "the stranded ship" 1843 by Asher Brown Durand 1796 - 1886 }

The anniversary of your first meeting was coming soon, an entire year since you stumbled into his life by mere accident.

Armin would've never guessed bumping into you outside the library would've had such an impact, and what a beautiful accident it was.

And now, an entire year later he can see clearly why you stole his heart.

He found in you what he lacked, things he desired and admired for so long, things that made him feel at ease.

Things he oh so desperately wanted.

Just your mention would make his mood better, the thought of you making the sky seem a bit brighter and the world not so dim anymore.

He was smitten and he knew it, after all how could he deny it.

especially since he's read about it in a hundred different books, the stories of those similarly struck by cupid's bow as they got high on love alone.

Watched it in tens of tv shows, people falling for each other, struggling to get together despite the world pulling them apart.

And as much as others would scoff and turn their noses at these things, calling it a mere fantasy, he couldn't deny how much deep down he hoped for it.

Maybe he was just too romantic with his head swimming in the clouds, maybe he was too eager and hopeful for a connection.

But he swore he could see it clear as day, see the both of you falling in love.

At that time, he could recite how it would go as if it was a movie playing in his mind just as he fell asleep, dreaming about a soon-to-be-real fantasy each night.

He's willing to put in the effort, you're worth the work after all.

And so he began making subtle moves, showing interest in small ways, bit by bit till he got bolder day by day.

As far as anyone could tell, you seemed to be on board.

But Armin was never sure, he didn't want to mess this up and make a move that might make you pull away.

He wasn't looking for a nonchalant sure from you, he was looking for an enthusiastic yes.

Which is why he took his sweet time getting closer, strategically considering every move and step, making plans for dates and backup plans if plan A failed.

He was giving his all, squeezing his brain for all it's worth as he analysed every move.

It's just that he didn't want to mess this up.

As if.

Fate had it's way as always, maybe he just cared so much about the tiny details that he was blind to the big signs, for how could he notice the sun if he was too busy studying the grains of sand.

Or maybe, pushing all that philosophical bullshit aside, he just waited too long.

You also made your moves but he didn't seem to respond in a clear way, not fully showing interest since he was too lost in his own mind.

Did you feel like he was subtly rejecting you? Did you feel like he was attempting to push you in the friendzone? 

He can't know how you felt, and whatever it was it must have been why you didn't hesitate to say yes to the next person who asked you out.

Which just happened to be Eren.

Thinking back to how it all fell apart, Armin would curse his past naive self for simply standing aside, without making an attempt to stop it as he watched Eren integrate himself into your life.

At the time he thought he was being the bigger person, a good friend to someone he brought he could trust.

He thought life couldn't be that cruel, in the end his hard word should pay off as you realise you belong with him right?

Ha!

Ha…No.

How could he have been so blind and stupid?

It's been a year since you've known Armin but it's been 9 months since you've been dating Eren.

He went through it all, becoming well acquainted with the stages of grief.

But he's fed up honestly.

He swears he could almost lose his mind if he saw another video of you on Eren’s Instagram story.

The other proudly showing you off in his arms, knowing exactly what he's doing.

And so Armin decided enough is enough, he's taking back what he lost, what rightfully should've been his and screw being a good friend.

He knew he can't just barge into your apartment, confess his undying love and ride into the sunset with you smitten in his arms.

Unless he wanted a restraining order.

What does he want most?

You of course.

What is he best at?

...being subtle.

It's what got him into this mess in the first place, and so it will be his saving grace.

A good morning text a day, nothing more or less, simple yet effective.

And that, turning into him checking on you throughout the day, you know casual stuff.

Did you eat? How did that project go? It's raining, did you take an umbrella ?

Slowly, day by day your conversations will grow as you get used to him being a part of your daily routine.

And that's when he turns it up a notch, maybe you'd like to meet at the nearby park? Or grab some coffee in the morning?

You need a friend to shop with? Yeah he's free and he would even carry your bags

...or well attempt to, cut him some slack you know he isn't that strong yet is trying his best.

Maybe, after some weeks of you falling back into the routine of meeting up with him, he could invite you over again.

Just like the good old times.

Of course he'd never tell you the reason he stopped visiting your place was because he couldn't stand seeing Eren’s clothes scattered around.

All you'll hear is that he feels the most comfortable at his own place, he even prepared some lunch and made freshly squeezed juice! You wouldn't say no to him after all the effort he did would you?

Yeah...you couldn't, that's exactly why he made sure only to ask you to come over after he finished preparing everything. 

You're a good person, you wouldn't want his work to go to waste would you? You wouldn't do that to him.

The small lunch you agreed on, soon enough turned into watching tv together.

Oh wow the show he picked is so good, and each episode ends in a cliffhanger, lucky he has all episodes on Netflix so you wouldn't mind watching them all now would you?

Let's just turn autoplay on and not pay attention to how each episode is an hour long.

The next thing you know, it's dark outside and you're yawning while hugging a blanket close on the couch.

Your phone was in the other room, it's 11pm and you have 5 missed calls from Eren at different hours.

Armin would assure you that it's just Eren being Eren, you should just send a text back later.

And aren't you hungry? How about you and him go make midnight dinner and think about these stuff later.

After you have your food, you realise it's too late to go home.

Not to mention Armin's words about how dangerous it is to walk alone this late aren't exactly helping.

Of course he's quick to apologise, claiming he's just...worried about you, why don't you stay over instead?

He even has some fresh towels and blankets.

Why?...uh no reason, laundry day just happened to be yesterday so that's why.

And for a single day, he gets to wake up to you first thing in the morning, to see the way the sun would fall on your face as he opened the curtains.

The way he gets to tuck you in and adjust the blanket before he goes to make breakfast, no way he's not spoiling you rotten while he has you in his bed.

You'd be sleeping soundly one minute and the next gently stirred awake to the delicious smell of pancakes.

Armin's smiling face, as he murmurs a good morning in his sleepy voice.

God he wishes he can stay in this moment forever.

But, Armin knows exactly what he's doing, he's 100% self aware.

Maybe that's why he doesn't feel bad when reassuring you that it's still too early to leave, and how about you help him move some boxes to the closet instead?

Oh! What's that? You found an old book in one of them, how bizarre, not to mention it's the one that inspired your favourite movie.

You wouldn't mind him reading you some lines would you?

But he doesn't wanna spoil the details for you, there's a lot of extra content the movie left out.

So how about this instead, forget the boxes, you and him should go back in bed and let him read you the book.

Why would he be the one reading? Because his storytelling is good and you know it, soon enough you'll find yourself entranced by the story as the outer world blurs out into a haze.

Time flies by quickly, because he's such a natural at it and so it's the afternoon when the doorbell rings, bringing you back to reality.

It's Eren, coming to pick you up because you weren't answering your phone.

After you leave, and his little play pretend date ends, he's taken back to the cold truth that no matter what, you will go back home to Eren by then end of the day.

Never him.

Well, not for long.

...

The car ride back home with Eren was...uncomfortable in a way.

His grip too tight on the steering wheel, shoulders too stiff and narrowed eyes glancing at you every once.

And yet he didn't say much, only answering your attempt at starting a conversation with a single word or a hum.

Maybe he was too lost in his own mind, making connections to how Armin seemed to he inviting you places more and more

How each time you come back much later than promised

But the thing that bothered him to the core, was the fact you'd just spend the night at Armin's place with no warning beforehand.

Eren has been trying to convince you to move into his apartment for what seemed like forever, and each time you'd refuse saying you needed your privacy and yet you'd just go and stay over at another guy's house like it's nothing 

He wanted to scream, he was fuming inside.

This isn't the only thing that got on his nerves, it's how your phone never seemed to shut up, one text notification after the other and even at the earliest hours of the day.

And for some reason you'd open the phone with a smile, never ignoring any of them because it's too rude to ignore a text.

Then why the fuck didn't you pick up his calls.

He had an idea on who has been texting you, he's not stupid.

He can't even count the amount of times he almost clocked out of work or canceled his plans last minute just because you called saying you're going out with Armin for the day.

Just the idea of you alone with someone else in some secluded area made him want to drop everything and go after you.

He's been attempting to get you closer to his mother, just to show how serious he was about you.

And maybe to show you off to her, but he would never admit it that he takes pride in flaunting you around in front of his family.

Carla even seemed to like you too, making you some food every once in a while, inviting you over for family dinner and including you in game nights.

It was an unspoken rule that you and Eren were an item, even if nothing was official, he made it clear to his family that it will be.

Maybe he'd even introduce you to Zeke one day, someone most of his friends don't even know he's related to.

Well the other already knows about you to be fair, it was by mere chance that you happened to call when both of them were smoking at the front porch while his mom made dinner.

Eren couldn't help the stupid grin spreading over his face when you called, almost forgetting his big brother was next to him the more he talked to you, playfully teasing.

The other observed quietly, the only acknowledgement he gave Eren was patting his back with a chuckle before going to help Carla inside.

Eren was late to dinner, having lost track of time while talking to you.

Sometimes he wonders how did it all get like this, how did he manage to get this infatuated with you.

He won't lie, he wanted to get closer to you since the day Armin brought you to hang out with their group.

His eyes wouldn't leave you, even if they did they'd soon glance back to you.

Even Jean was out of his mind that they didn't argue at all, instead Eren’s entire focus and attention was on the way you laughed each time Connie would tell a joke.

Or the way you licked your lips after Sasha offered you a bite of her food.

It wasn't until Marco asked him what's wrong that he realised he hasn't said a thing the entire time.

So he didn't waste his chance, shooting his shot right away and moving to sit beside you.

It wasn't even a full week before he asked you out, because what's the worst that could happen? If you reject him then he'd just laugh it off and attempt to get closer to you before asking you again after some months.

To his surprise, you welcomed his advances with open arms from the first time and that is what made him latch onto you even more.

He didn't expect to succeed from the first time, although it was a pleasant surprise it still made him wonder if you would've done the same to someone else.

...if you would've still said yes to someone else asking you, that it was more of being at the right place and time that made him win you over.

He knows it's irrational thinking to get irritated by imaginary scenarios that have no proof but it didn't quell his mind.

Thank fuck he snatched you first.

And what a catch you were, perfectly fitting for him as if you were specifically designed.

Your kisses could make him melt into a puddle, your touch could make him lose his breath.

He genuinely enjoyed spending time with you, just the two of you alone.

Not to mention how you are such an adorable thing too whenever you show him your hobbies or interests.

You've always given him validation without him having to ask for it, so much that he's almost addicted.

Mainly coming to you for compliments whenever he does a thing, just hugging you from behind and giving you those eyes till you've boosted his ego enough.

Maybe that's why he started clinging to you more, taking you to cheer for him whenever he went to play basketball with Jean and Reiner, even teaching you some moves just for an excuse to hold you closer from behind as you bounce the ball.

Or pulling you into his lap while playing videogames, giving you a kiss each time he wins and shamelessly asking for a prize afterwards.

Or maybe tracing his fingers up and down your thighs under the table at family dinner nights, more focused on the lining of your inner thigh than whatever story his father is telling about work 

you just...made his life better, more fun and so full of colour.

He could see something coming out of this relationship, a burred future but a future nonetheless.

Now with his face softened, he glanced at you again, meeting your gaze.

One of his hands left the wheel, taking your hand instead and giving it a small squeeze.

A silent apology maybe? Or was it to reassure himself that you're still with him.

That's exactly why things like these get a strong reaction from him, it's not that he doesn't trust you, it's that he doesn't trust the world around you.

Mostly because he knows Armin, more than anyone else, hell even more than Mikasa.

He has known him since kindergarten, and while Armin never picks up a fight, he never runs  away from one.

Eren isn't delusioned with the awkward and innocent front everyone else thinks of Armin, he fucking knows what he's capable of.

And he knows the second he lets his guard down, Armin wouldn't bat an eye before using it to get closer to you.

The worst mistake someone could ever do is underestimate his friend

#Armin🕯 #Eren🕯 #modern aot🕯 #suggestive🕯 #tw: possessive behavior #tw: jealousy #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: toxic behavior #armin arlet x reader #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin arlert #armin headcanons #armin x you #Aot #armin aot #aot x reader #aot x y/n #snk #snk x reader #angst🕯 #drama🕯 #angst #pinning🕯 #armin x you x eren #eren angst #eren x y/n #eren yaegar #eren x reader #Eren x you

[bonktime]

Take a Breath

Ezra (Prospect) x AFAB!reader Oneshot (no use of y/n)

Masterlist

Rated: Explicit

Summary: Your ship has crashed on a planet with low oxygen. With no other options you begin a tenuous partnership with a strange prospector in need of your help fixing his pod. He’s charming but dangerous and if he finds out the whole truth about you, you’ll probably end up dead. With trouble closing in from all sides, you navigate this new connection and hope you both survive in one piece.

Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence, blood and death, mentions of religion, sexual harassment (just a couple comments), me having no clue what asphyxiating is actually like, Two has a clear helmet for plot reasons, smut: unprotected PinV sex (there’s no STDs in space), cunnilingus, dom/sub elements, rough sex, size kink, choking (just a little), spitting, praise kink (this one surprised me), biting, a little dirty talk (it is Ezra) - let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Note: I was totally inspired to create this by @jura-moon​ ‘s fic Nostromo which lives in my head and without it, this never would have been written. I have used some of her story beats and ideas so absolute credit goes to her for that. This is sort of a fanfic of Nostromo in many ways 💘 I’d also like to throw thanks at @absurdthirst who reawakened my love of fics, @slater-baby who awoke something in me specifically, and especially to @danniburgh who not only deals with my damn near weekly requests for softness but who also got me to stop editing at 1am whilst drinking tequila. She did us all a favour, let’s be honest.

I hope everyone enjoys this behemoth. Don’t forget to reblog!

Wordcount: 22k

~~~~~~~~

It's not the worst planet to crash on.

The thought is so ridiculous you'd laugh if it wasn't for the blaring alarms and the screaming. Instead, you wrestle into the pilot’s seat and strap in. With the engine dead you'll have to manually time releasing the parachute. It's completely insane. Too early and the parachute burns, you crash into the ground and die. Too late and the parachute doesn't catch you, you crash into the ground and die. Provided you do survive you've at least got your suit on, oxygen tank attached, you'll be able to breath. The planet's oxygen is too low to survive for longer than two hours alone but it'll aid the tank and give you two days, three if you're careful, to get more. At least it isn't poisonous.

Thoughts all over the place you wonder where the other ship will fall. Hopefully close enough you can still make use of it. Hopefully they've got a good pilot.

You've been lucky this far, now all you can do is hope your luck holds. You break atmosphere flames blurring the view of the planet and then it's rushing to meet you. You start counting, watching it come closer, closer. You see the other ship careen away from you.

“Fuck!” Someone behind you shouts “Pull the damn lever are you trying to kill us all?!”

You ignore them, don't lose count. Ok

Three… two… one…

You close your eyes and pull.

You don't open your eyes.

No. For the first time in years. You pray.

⧫⧫⧫

Pain is the first thing you register, across your chest aches like, well, like you've just crashed a ship. The next is the smell, smoke, that can't be good, it's not entirely unpleasant though. Then the noise, someone's shouting in your ear telling you to get up, to move, they swear and leave you dangling upside down, still strapped into the pilots’ seat. Oh, that's why your chest hurts, ok, you think to yourself, you’re alive. You need to move. You need to open your eyes.

You do.

Lights are flashing, disorientating you more than your current position, blood rushing to your head. You reach up and press the release on the seat belt and drop to the floor, or maybe the ceiling, head first. Didn't think that one through you chastise yourself.  The engine is on fire, filling the hull with smoke but your legs are numb so, seizing your pack where it’s fallen beside you, you crawl to the light you think is the door and to your relief, flop outside.

No one notices you. They're all looking away, throwers out and pointed into the dead trees you sit back against the ship still reeling from the crash, too slow to realise how absolutely fucked you are. They come out the trees fast, even with spears and blades, you watch as the crew falls one by one. You can't process what you're seeing, frozen in place. Blood splatters, coming down like rain around you. Too late your body reacts and you stumble to your feet and run.

You get out of sight and then you stop, panting. Every breath aches your chest.

Something's wrong. Something you're not seeing. Right before your eyes. What is it?!

It hits you, slowly like a wave, realisation and then panic. You reach up slowly and touch your head. Gloves come away wet and dark with your blood.

Your helmet is shattered.

You aren't sure if you're crying or blood is dripping into your eyes. You suspect the blood. Feeling numb you keep moving, one foot in front of the other vaguely glancing down at the dial on your arm. After the running you'll be unconscious in at best an hour and a half, dead a little after that.

The petrified forest seems to close in around you. It’s a stillness like you’ve never experienced. Trees tower above you, skeletal branches reaching up like fingers. The limbs cast dark shadows in the bright sun, crossing over the dry brush underfoot, hiding foot falls and branches to trip on.

You walk on.

⧫⧫⧫

15 minutes left.

You decide to find a place to sit, ideally somewhere with a view but you can't me picky. A fallen tree does the job and you pull off the remainder of your helmet. Trying not to think about your imminent demise you look up. The suns are low, three of them. It twinges in your chest that you'll never go home, never see that sky again. Left to rot alone, no one who knows your traditions to perform your rites. Not that you deserve them. If you're going to put the ring back on, now would be the time. Make penance, but you don't think you can. Perhaps the hundred years wait is what you deserve.

7 minutes left.

There's someone approaching. Silhouetted against the scorching red sky, the heat rising from the ground distorting them, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating. The only clue they’re real is the crunch of the ground beneath their feet, but even that seems to echo around you.

Hope is the thing with feathers and it just flaps a wing wearily in your chest. And then stutters. The sun glints off their pistol, a beautiful sparkle that dims your hope. You do what you're good at, grab your own and shoot first. His gun flies from his hand and you smile, at least your aim is true. It falls off your face as quickly as it appears though as you feel a barrel press into your skull.

Clever buggers divided and conquered.

You drop your thrower but whoever it is doesn't lower theirs. “A little creature all alone,” a low voice drawls, “No helmet? No breath? What will we do with you?”

Staring straight at the man in front as he picks up your pistol and glares at you, you respond. “If we are going to chat, can we do it wherever your pod is? I have quite a story but I'll be dead in…” you look down at your dial, the gun increases its pressure on your skull as you try to suppress the panic “In about 5 minutes” the man remains silent, his pistol staying pressed into your skull. Your mind races, trying to find a way to argue your survival and clutches at the one thing you have. “I chose not to kill your friend when I could have done. Can you at least hear me out?”

The man behind you clicks his tongue “Ok! Well, I'm certainly intrigued and I'm sure even my partner here can't disapprove of allowing you to argue your case.” The comment seems pointed like he'll definitely disagree but even as you see his mouth twist he stays silent. “On your feet creature I'm not inclined to lug you back myself.” Standing the man lowers the thrower into your back and gently pushes you forward.

Their pod is close but you're feeling dizzier by the second and don't even think to protest when, as soon as you're in and the doors shut, the man at your back ties your hands behind you.

Focusing on him as he moves in front of you and pulls off his helmet you notice he’s favouring one arm and despite his sharp brown eyes, he looks feverish and drained. Not paying it much thought, you breathe deeply feeling sharper but it only draws your attention back to the pain in your body. Kevva you're tired. The urge to lie down and rest is near overwhelming, but the one who talks is eyeing you coldly for weakness, you’re no use if you can’t even stand.

Still, you try to get your bearings. The pod is small and rectangular, they haven’t turned the lights on and the looming shadows seem to pull in the walls, making your saviours into giants, making you feel like you’re pledging your case to The Olympians. There’s a small bench with a couple chairs next to a tiny stove and sink, there’s only one cot up against the wall, opposite what could be a cupboard but your eyes can’t make it out in the dim light.

“Now then creature, it's not every day we come across such a little thing with no air on this breathless planet and certainly not one who can shoot so damn straight!” The chuckles “I am just fascinated to know how you got into this predicament.”

You nod thinking carefully about your words. “We were a prospecting crew,” that's definitely a lie, “I'm an engineer but I know how to dig.” Well that's true at least, “Our ship fell of orbit but I managed to deploy the chutes in time so we didn't die on impact but…” you close your eyes as the images of the blood flashes before you.

“Let me guess your theatrical entrance gathered a welcoming party?”

“Something like that, I didn't realise my helmet had broken right away, I managed to run… I think everyone else is dead.” In a way you hope they are, else you really are in trouble.

The man is grinning at you, showing his teeth but the calculating gaze doesn’t falter “An engineer I'll be damned! And you can dig too? This is my lucky day. We happen to be in need of an engineer. See, our little pod has seen some better days and now it is unwilling to fly. Say, if you can fix it up and help us dig a smidgen, save us some time, we'll give you a lift out when the time comes? Quid pro quo”

An unwanted thought strikes you, settling deep in your stomach like a stone. “That sounds like a great deal but I won't be able to help you, not unless you supply me with a helmet.”

With that the other man seems to reach the end of his patience. And he moves gesturing at the talker.

“Now then, it just doesn't seem right to let such a pretty little thing suffocate on this rock... Well, I can't argue with that I suppose… I do apologise, little creature, I find myself, however unwittingly, agreeing with my partner. If you can’t help us then I can find no reasonable excuse to waste our resources on you. Looks like the deals off” he sighs “This is disappointing, I had such high hopes for our association.” With a shrug he pats your shoulder in sympathy that doesn’t meet his eyes. You shouldn't have hoped, your lucks all spent.

You take a deep breath, mind racing to find a way to survive, “Untie my hands at least, I'd appreciate some dignity as I walk to meet my maker.” You glance at your pack on the floor, you won’t need it now.

He pauses for a second, seeming to size you up before nodding and turning you around to face the door. In the reflection of the glass, you see the profile of his sharp features as he looks back, “Now then two, surely you can do the creature the quick the justice of a shot rather than a slow suffocation… Right good.” He cuts your hands loose and instantly the other man is there pressing his thrower into your back. You walk together, back into the waste.

There's only one way you're getting out of this so you close your eyes for a second and pause. He shoves you, lifting his gun to the back of your head. You take a breath and act.

Bending forwards and shoving your elbow up into his arm so the shot goes over your head, you spin knocking the gun aside and grab the small switchblade concealed in your pocket. He should have searched you. You don't hesitate as you stab him in the heart, following him to the ground and wrenching his helmet off. You close your eyes as the light leaves his.

Shaking off the nausea clamouring at you, you pull out the blade blanching as it sprays blood across you. You wipe it clean before stowing it away and then swipe a hand across your face, there’s no way to tell whether the deep red that rubs off on your hand is his or yours, or someone else’s. Feelin around in your pockets for a coin, you suppose the least you can do is pay his boatman so you place the coin under his tongue. You don’t pray. The dead don’t need it.

Ezra watches as you perform this strange ritual, he had to admit that he's captivated. Perhaps his wound has rotted so much he's delirious, finally driven mad by the toxins. Perhaps that was why he agreed to free your hands, why he didn’t check you for a blade. He considers you as he watches, so determined to stay alive.

You pull off the man's suit grateful he's small, even if it'll still swamp you, and grab his helmet. Stripping your own suit quickly you ignore the bandages on your forearm and pull his on. The fit isn't bad, it still seals around your wrists and ankles but it’s loose at your neck. You've got 12 minutes before you pass out unless you fix the hole your own knife made and get a tank of oxygen.

You look at the pod, the other man is watching you. Brown eyes piercing yours as if looking into your soul. It's him or nothing. You've got to try.

You approach the pod carrying your suit. Looking through the glass in the door and you gesture a setting for your radio, there’s a click followed by his harsh breathing.

“That was not especially kind, little creature. I certainly underestimated your ferociousness”

You shrug, “It was him or me.”

“What makes your existence so exponentially more important than his d’you think?”

You frown, “I didn't decide that it did, the powers that be choose. I did bring a knife to a gunfight” He smiles slightly and lets out a little chuckle.

Ezra watches you carefully, you look so tired, so small as you lean against the door of the pod his feverish brain seems to be attempting to soften a long-hardened heart. Still, he's not an idiot. “I'm afraid letting you in may be a detriment to my state of being, creature, you are indeed viscous and I'm not inclined to trust someone that murdered my acquaintance with so little hesitation.” He watches your eyes closed and for a second you look so hopeless but when they open, they've hardened.

“I could simply pull apart your pod from the outside, make sure you suffocate with me!” The last words come out in a shout of frustration. You bang your hand against the glass window of the door.

He glares at you, his voice low and menacing “I do not take lightly to threats, creature.”

This day’s too long, too hard, you've done too much. How many deaths? You realise that you can't kill someone for, sensibly, not letting you in. You laugh “I feel like the wolf at your door,” you sigh god your head hurts “There's no point!” you gesture, “Killing you would do nothing but damn me further I won't kill you out of spite. Fuck!” You glance and the dial on your arm,

6 minutes.

You turn away and sit, suit back against the door. It's as nice a spot as any. “I will choose to die here though I think, just as a reminder that you killed me when I fall through the next time you head out”

You chuckle at the macabre thought then turn off your radio and pull off the helmet.

3 minutes.

The final sun is setting, this really is Apollo's world and it is beautiful. The orange sky outlines the forest’s hands like an oil painting waving you off. Not a bad place to go at all.

2 minutes.

At least it's quiet.

1 minute.

Black spots are filling your vision, blurring out the beauty. Rude you think to yourself and you let out a delirious giggle.

The door behind you slides open and a strong hand grabs the back of the suite as you flop back, hauling you in, snagging the helmet and sealing the door. You don’t move, staring at the ceiling for a second breathing deeply.

Ezra drops heavily down onto the cot and watches you, you're quite something up close even covered in another's blood and your own, you're beautiful. He imagines this is what a witch would look like after a ritual, all blood and magic and secrets.

You open your eyes and peer up at him. “What changed your mind?”

He grins “Call it a reckless curiosity fuelled by this festering limb of mine.” He gestures to his arm.

It’s your turn to size him up, he seems to be looking worse by the minute and now slumped against the wall, you could probably just kill him and take what you need. Maybe you would if he hadn’t let you in. “Perhaps I can patch it up, I've got steady hands and too much experience with wounds from weapons” you struggle into a seated position with a grunt as pain flashes.

“You might as well have a gander, I'm afraid if left to my own devices I'll have to saw the thing off myself or else perish” He frowns down at his twitching fingers, “I do believe this may be my lowest point, little creature. I invite in trouble and then ask it for help? I have certainly had preferable days, for instance, when the ship I was presiding upon became infested with channel rats seems superior to today.”

You hum in reply not really paying attention as he continues to talk. Reaching for your pack, you pull out a pretty well stocked surgery kit.  “I'll numb it as best I can but it's not much”

“Anything that alleviates this agony will be a blessing little creature” You raise an eyebrow at him in acknowledgment, clearly doubting it as you hand him a tablet which he swallows. He pulls off his shirt and you examine the wound trying not to stare at his strong arms and broad chest. It’s a couple days old and badly infected, you’ll have to get out the rot before you can think of sealing it.

“Lie back” you tell him

“Perhaps in another situation your choice of language would be quite desirable” he smirks at you, not succeeding in disguising the worry in his face.

You sigh at the comment “Scream all you need but don't move”

That makes him chuckle, “You're a siren luring me in to slay me, aren't you?” His jaw clenches as you start cutting away the rotted flesh. It is slow work, carefully taking as little pink away as possible. To his credit he doesn't move a muscle and you know it must be agony. He talks the entire time, telling the tale of how he got himself shot in such a long-winded way you can’t tell the truth from the fiction. It seems to give him distraction though, so you don’t ask if he’s lying. As you close the wound with foam, he smiles at you, softer than before.

“Names Ezra, by the way.” Then he passes out.

He’s rather strange you decide, but most prospectors are. You’ve got to be a bit odd to spend your days nearly isolated on hostile planets. Asleep he looks peaceful, none of the calculating gaze or darkness. That little patch of blonde is so distinctive, you find yourself almost hypnotised by his face. Frowning at yourself you move away and sit back against the other side of the pod facing the cot.

A few things left to do with him unconscious, you pull off the stolen suit and grab the patch gun from your pack, melting it closed. You pull it back on and holster your pistol. Sitting back, you take a pill from your med kit to ease the pain in your chest and let it pull you into sleep.

Unsurprisingly, you wake before him. You check he's alive then pack your stuff together. You're even, you suppose. He saved your life. You saved his (or at least his arm) and you'd rather not stay around to find out if, when less fevered, he decides to get more even with you for killing his partner. He did give you his name though and names are powerful things so you pull out your notebook and leave a note as you grab an oxygen tank.

You glance behind you as the door seals behind you but you don’t turn back. If you head towards the ship your crew had brought down yesterday, it should have an escape pod still on it. Hopefully you can fix it up if needs be. You follow your compass East.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra wakes slowly, he hasn't slept so deeply in years, he feels comfortable if a little cold and slowly he opens his eyes. The previous day returns to him in a haze, a pretty face and bright eyes glaring through the door, a gesture to old gods, his arm…

He looks down and moves his fingers. It's good, remarkably so, still stiff and aching but whatever you’d given him seems to have hurried his healing. That stuffs expensive. Not the sort of thing a prospector would usually have and certainly not something they'd share. You were quite strange, he concludes, but fascinating. Why on earth would someone who could act so brutally for their own survival give him something so valuable? Sure, he let you in but you certainly hadn't needed to let him know you had such a thing in your possession. He supposed guilt over his partner, perhaps you were truly naïve or, bizarrely, you could have money. Which would create a more baffling question of just how you ended up here.

It doesn't occur to Ezra for a moment the other reason, until he looks around the pod to find you gone along with a portable oxygen canister leaving a bit of paper in its place. Things stolen hold less value.

The paper was clearly torn from a notebook on it, it simply said your name.

He curses pulling on his suit and following your tracks into the forest. The trail is light but visible, branches broken where you’d passed, dry brush crushed under your feet. He moves quickly, sure of his footing after spending so much time navigating the dead forest. He’s only travelled about a mile before he can hear you moving ahead.

⧫⧫⧫

You walk through the trees, one sun shining above you warming your bones. As you check your direction you pause. A twig snaps and you freeze listening carefully. There's another noise behind you and you spin tensing. You can't see anything or anyone as you peer around you, the forest is too dense.

A body crashes into you from behind flinging you into the ground, looping something around your neck. Your head ricochets off the inside of your helmet shaking your brain, opening the cut again but not breaking the glass. You try to lurch up but get nowhere so you roll into your back with them now beneath you but the cord around your neck holds you back. Choking, you catch your fingers in it so you can breathe and pull forwards, hard, rolling again and thrusting your helmet back into theirs, loosening their grip enough so you can pull the cord away, only for them to shove you head down into the ground.

The world is swimming now, wobbling around you as you try to get your body to listen to you. To get away. To fight back. Anything! But their weight on your back prevents you from moving. You try to look out of the corner of your eye to see your opponent but get nothing. It surprises you when a tear tracks down your face. You suppose you have been putting off the inevitable for days now, Kevva has called you back.

Whoever it is clicks on your radio and a familiar voice hisses, “You stupid fucking cunt, I'm bringing you to hell with-“ A shot rings out and the body slumps on top of you, you lift yourself up and shove it off sitting up on your haunches looking around for the shooter.

It's him, Ezra, gun still trained on you. He watches you halt, eyes wide.

“You took something of mine, and although usually I don't go out of my way to find trouble, which you little creature certainly are. I awoke to find myself abandoned and a little peeved to discover that you had liberated a couple of my possessions and shimmied out of part of our prior agreement.”

Your heads still spinning and with the blood trickling into your eye you find it immensely difficult to focus on what he is saying. “Prior agreement?”

“Yes indeed. You'll find you had affirmed in exchange for breath you would fix up my little ship so when the time comes, I may leave this barely liveable planet. I do not appreciate reneging”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“On your feet creature,” he approaches, “I find myself growing impatient.” You stand and instantly stumble forward. He grabs onto your shoulder steadying you, his other hand darting out before you can relax and snagging your thrower from its holster. “I underestimated you once, I will not again. Now, your assailant seemed to know you, if I'm not mistaken, by the way they deemed to remark upon you. Pray tell me the tale?”

Looking at him you do feel a lot like prey. He's close, grip still firm on your shoulder and towering over you. A grin showing all his teeth like a wolf, all you would need is a red cloak and you’re dinner.

You glance down at the body and clench your jaw, it was Cora. Formally, a member of your crew, she had always distrusted you. Rightfully so, you think to yourself.

Steadying yourself you shrug off Ezra's grip, ignoring the gun still aimed at you and kneel down to pull off her helmet. Taking a coin from your pocket you place it under her tongue and look back up at him, the helmet still in your grasp. He's watching you curiously, seeming to be rolling words around in his mouth as if completely thrown by your behaviour.

“She was part of my crew, I was the engineer so the crash was my fault,” well that was definitely true.

Ezra chuckles darkly, “I'm not too sure I want you to repair my ship after all, creature. Your predilection for incident does appear wearisome.”

You tilt your head up at him, “See any other engineers around here?”

“I suppose you'll have to do, but I will be watching you mighty closely little bird, in case you decide to take flight again.” You frown at the new nickname but don't get a chance to argue as you both hear a horn a little way off. “Unfortunately, my shot appears to have alerted the ever-irritable locals to our location.” He grabs your arms and hauls you back to your feet pulling you along with him as he walks back the way you had come, Cora’s helmet still clasped in your hand. “Luckily the settlers are not quick on their feet, I must say.”

You can't think of a response, your head is still reeling and your feet feel like lead as you trudge after him, his hand gripping firmly onto your wrist.

You're grateful you hadn't travelled far when he tugs you into the pod. Closing the door and turning, Ezra finds you slumping down to sit on the floor ripping off your helmet and attempting to wipe the blood out of your eye. It feels a little voyeuristic as he watches you tug off the suit soaked with his partner's blood, revealing the black insulating vest and leggings beneath before flopping back eyes closed for a moment. You feel his stare and pointedly ignore it as you grab your own suit, abandoned the day before, and shimmy into it. Cora had the same suit and so her helmet will fit yours. You feel a little relief at no longer having to wear the blood of someone you'd killed, not to mention more secure in something that fits.

Glancing up at Ezra as you transfer your possessions between pockets yet again you see he's elected to tie his suit up around his waist revealing those damn arms again. He crouches down in front of you and gently grasps your chin to tilt your head up at him. “That's quite the cut you've got there little bird.”

He carefully watches your face but your head is still fuzzy so with no retort he moves away from you and picks up your med kit. He cleans your wound gently, wiping the dried blood off your face. As he does, you study him. Close up you can see the wrinkles around his eyes from when he smiles and the curved scar on his cheek. Fighting off the impulse to trace your fingers over it, you ask how he got it. He grins as he places a plaster on your head “Now that’s quite a story” but you don’t get to hear it yet, sounds outside means the settlers have found the pod.

“They'll leave provided they don't know we're here” He grumbles, tugging you into the cupboard running along the wall.

It’s slim but long inside, there are blankets on the floor, a lantern and a small stack of tattered books. “Do you sleep in a cupboard?” you have to ask but you do your best to keep the incredulity out of your tone.

“I'd rather you didn't insult my little burrow as a guest, there's only one cot in this pod and I lost the wager so I made do. I think you’ll find it’s rather cosy”

You nod, a little thrown by his change in attitude since being in the forest. As you both sit you watch his face in the golden light of the lamp. It makes him appear to glow, almost like a painting. He'd look almost relaxed if it wasn't for how his eyes were watching you carefully.

Ezra studies your features, if you hadn't been such a bringer of chaos, he'd think he'd made you up, that, or Kevva had reached into his head and plucked you out. You're just perfect, perhaps anything his own mind could come up with would have to come with chaos, there was no fun without it.

The quiet moment is disrupted by a bang on the side of the pod, you jump and Ezra tenses slightly but seems to be expecting it. “They're trying to frighten out anyone inside” he whispers, “If we stay quiet and hidden, we'll be just fine”

You nod and tilt your head back against the wall trying to block out the noise as Ezra reaches for the book at the top of his stack. You read the title ‘Perfume’, you haven't heard of it but judging by the battered pages and writing in the margins Ezra knows it intimately. He glances at you. “It is a tale of a man who gets so enraptured with the scent of a woman he endeavours to turn her essence into perfume.”

You hum in response “That sounds a little morbid.”

Reaching into your bag you pull out a similarly dog-eared copy of ‘The Power’ and do your best to ignore the man opposite you.

Ezra frowns at his book. It's not often a good read fails to pull him into its world but something about your presence has driven him to distraction. Instead, he closes the book and continues to study you, it's a nice change having a stranger in such close quarters. You're frowning at your book a little furrow in your brow he finds endearing. It's only then he notices you're shaking. He wonders if it's from the death of your friend, from the settlers’ insistent pounding on the side of the pod or from him. He supposes it's quite scary to be trapped in a small space with someone twice your size and he hasn't exactly been kind to you. Ezra frowns to himself, not that you've given him a reason to act kindly. You will be useful to each other but there's no point making friends on such rough terms.

You look up meeting his eye as he glowers at you and swiftly glance away, trying to take up as little space as possible.

“You said you came to prospect?” he murmurs to you. You look back at him, wide eyed, and nod. “Good, you can help me finish me dig, 60/40 split, since you so callously divested me of my partner.”

You nod “You ridded me of mine too. Looks like we're even again. Equal split.” He’s tempted to laugh at your boldness, negotiating with no leverage. He keeps his face stern, unwilling to let you know how much he is enjoying your spark.

“I don't think so.” he speaks lowly making you tense, “I will permit that without you my arm would be about as useful as stim gum is at staving off hunger. And at least to me my arm is equal to a partner.” He tilts his head at you, the light cutting plains across his skin, “Even so… we still aren't even. That’s twice I saved your troublesome arse. One could suggest you’re indebted to me.”

To his surprise you nod, even as your jaw clenches and he watches you swallow “I guess I'll have to make it up to you another way. Even split or I don’t dig” That breaks him, he can’t hold in his grin at your fearlessness. He strongly suspects you’ve had an abundance of practice getting what you're owed from characters more unscrupulous than himself. He frowns at that, even hardened prospectors treat him warily, there must be something else to you. He agrees though, more out of curiosity than necessity.

“Even split it is then.”

⧫⧫⧫

You both agree there's no point going out to dig with the settlers so close but after the noise has subsided Ezra looks you over and suggests you shower. You don't tell him what a gift that is but he sees how your eyes light up at the prospect of washing off the past days’ grime. He hands you a towel and as the water starts running, he distracts himself from picturing you naked by satisfying some of his inquisitiveness and going through your pack.

There's not much of interest. Your med kit, some protein bars, instant caf, ammunition but in the front pocket he finds an old ring. Round like a signet but instead of a family emblem it is simply a small coin, plated in gold. He studies it, it's roughly hewn, well-made but not particularly fine. He wonders if you stole this too, but it isn't flashy and everything else you've taken had been useful so he posits it is yours, but why don't you wear it? Frowning he puts it back as he spots a notebook, worn and well-loved but as he reaches for it the water shuts off and he leaves your pack, choosing to get nourishment for you both before you sleep.

You emerge dressed just in your leggings and vest, Ezra gestures to the seat noticing the bandage on your arm. “What did you do that your mystical little tablets cannot heal?”

You finger the material absentmindedly, “Oh it's an old wound I keep reopening, better to keep it covered to prevent infection.”

He peers at you clearly unconvinced but he doesn’t question you further, you avoid his eyes looking at the floor as he sticks some food in front of you. “Eat up little creature, we've hard work to do tomorrow and we'll need our energy.”

You take a mouthful before asking, “Where will we sleep?”

“Better we stay out of sight in case our hospitable friends return, so back into the burrow. And I'd rather keep you close in case you start to feel flighty again” You sigh but to his surprise don't argue, perhaps the settlers really did shake you.

Ezra returns to studying you as you both eat, without your suit on he can see the harsh bruises around your neck where your former friend had tried to strangle you but the gash through your eyebrow has stopped bleeding and fresh from the shower, you're quite the vision. It has been so long since he'd had another body to warm his bed and you look so soft and vulnerable without the suit and imminent danger, he finds himself picturing you under him, writhing, brow furrowed like before. His hands grabbing your arms, your hips, your neck- He shakes himself of the image. Your partnership is tenuous at best without bringing in the pleasures of the flesh and he doesn't really want to scare you off potentially leaving him alone and trapped on this world.

When you've eaten you head into Ezra's ‘burrow’ as he called it and settle opposite each other, legs stretched out in front, feet almost touching. Ezra is next to the door ensuring you can't leave without waking him but you're not inclined to try, you know your luck is running out. You're grateful he doesn't try to scare you into staying, instead curiously he picks up his book and looks at you. 

“I propose an exchange, it appears we are both almost prepared to recite our beloved tomes cover to cover, so, would you acquiesce your book for mine?”

You shrug, “I wouldn't mind something new but I'm not sure how much you'd enjoy ‘The Power’ and I have nothing else.”

He smiles his eyes crinkling with amusement, “Well then, read me the blurb and let me decide for myself. It seems only I would know what I may delight in.”

“It's about how women become the dominant gender in the world, told by a man in the future where a male dominated society seems absurd.”

Ezra grins, “I am intrigued! It'll be a joy to discuss books with another person, a pleasure I can rarely partake in”

You smile back as you swap books. A tentative exchange that leaves you both a little hopeful for the progress of your partnership.

You both read in silence until you yawn twice in a row causing Ezra to yawn too and he suggests you turn in. Or you guess he does, his choice of language seems to baffle you here and there. He wrangles a blanket out from under you and you settle in, top to tail, his feet level with your chest and yours to below his hip. You didn't realise how the adrenaline of the day had worn you out and you're asleep in seconds. 

You awake on your front, head nestled into your arm. It's pitch black and there's a weight on your ankle. Trying not to panic you wait for your eyes to adjust and peer over your shoulder to see what's grabbed you. It's Ezra.

Asleep on his back one hand on his stomach where the blankets had been shoved down and his under shirt had risen revealing a strip of tan skin glowing in the low light. You try not to focus on that. His other hand, by his side wrapping nearly all the way around your ankle. You wonder if he grabbed you awake to stop you trying to escape or if unconscious, he simply wanted to keep your warm body close, that idea makes you feel a little soft, this is easily the gentlest he's touched you apart from patching your head. You debate if you should shake him off but you don't want to wake him and his warm hand is anchoring so you just put your head back down on your arms and go back to sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra had his sleeping pattern nailed down, a necessary thing for a prospector, usually out cold for 7 hours so he's surprised when he startles awake. He doesn't usually dream. He grasps at the threads of images his mind had conjured committing them to memory. It was about you and it was enough to make him flush and now as he rouses himself, he gently detaches his hand from your ankle unsure about when he grabbed it. It's still early, he looks over you asleep on your stomach breathing slowly. He sighs adjusting himself in his pants if he can't get these images of his head, he's going to have an even more difficult time working with you than he already will. Desire is fickle like that he supposes, giving him a beautiful creature, he can't trust. One who is clearly concealing something and who certainly doesn't desire him in return. A beep tells him the suns are rising and you begin to stir

“Arise little bird, a day off struggle and fortune lays in wait.”

You grumble in return shuffling onto your back and sitting. Ezra tries not to stare as the blanket slips away revealing your body. To avoid further thoughts, he leaves his burrow taking his suit, subtly clutching it to his front so as not to alert you to his predicament, and heads for the shower to sort himself out, eternally grateful that the pod had connected to an underground lake making the water supply essentially infinite. Hopefully a brisk wash will clear his head and body of the lust.

You flop back and sigh. That damn blonde tuft and those sharp features were following you even into sleep. It had been far too long since you'd enjoyed another person and if it wasn't for the dilemma you were in, Ezra would be an easy yes. Broad and handsome and charming in a way that just spelled trouble, but your uneasy alliance, and your lies, and the fact that he could easily kill you make you especially wary of being vulnerable in the way you truly crave. Instead, you shake yourself, grab your pack, dig around for that terrible instant caf and leave the cupboard.

Ezra's shower was doing nothing for his erection. Feeling a little exasperated he grasps it harshly and tries not to picture you so vivid in his dream moaning around him. The water raining down on him acts as a lubricant as he harshly begins pumping his hand not wanting to take his time and fall into a fantasy of you. It doesn't work, he imagines how soft your hands would be, how wet you'd be, how he'd take you here up against the tiles. It's quick and dirty. He grunts, swears, then cums, the water washing the sin away leaving him panting and if anything, more frustrated than before.

You hear Ezra swear in the shower and wonder vaguely if he dropped something as you grab two mugs and start heating water for caf. The shower shuts off and you look round as he emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes are dark and he looks furious so you turn away and try not to think about how the water droplets on his broad shoulders shimmer as he disappears back into the cupboard.

Seeing you there, making you both caf, dressed in your underclothes sparked a craving of domesticity within Ezra. For the briefest moment you weren't a reluctant partner on a hostile planet, instead you were a lover he could wrap his arms around from behind as you giggle and try to get breakfast and it aches.

When Ezra re-emerges, dressed with his hair sticking in all directions, you've put his caf on the small bench and are sitting waiting for him. He sits too and picks it up.

“There's only a couple months left in the dig” he says, “You up to it? I will be displeased if you slow us down”

You glare, so this is what he's worried about, “Don't worry I've had plenty of practice. If anything, I'd worry about your arm!”

He grins at you “No need to fret little creature, I managed to do my job with a hole in it and with your miraculous medication, it is only a little unyielding.” He carefully looks over your face, “Speaking of, I would appreciate you being candid in not only the precise location you acquired such a potion but why in Kevva you deigned see fit to give it to me?”

He watches you chew on your words, “I relieved them from a man who sought to take from me, and I gave them to you to even my debt. You saved my life if I didn't give you one, I wouldn't have been able to save your arm.”

What a strange little thing, he thinks, so worried about balance, “Did you happen to also relieve this man of his life?” You stare into your cup and don't answer “Well if he sought to take from you, I'll assume it was just.”

You sit in silence as Ezra smoothly changes the subject and grabs a bar for you, spinning quite the tale as you eat. Not stopping for breath as you pull on your suits, boots and helmets, only pointing you towards the equipment you need to grab before opening the door and leading you back into waste.

Ezra hadn't given you back your thrower which you supposed was fair although he had left you your blade which you're sure he remembered you carried. Perhaps a little act of faith to gain your trust? It didn't hurt. 

As you approach the site Ezra looks back at you, “Stay close little creature we wouldn't want you to get lost.” His voice is low and threatening and sends a shiver down your spine that isn't entirely fear. You nod slowly and he grins, wolf-like just as before, as if outside you the pod he is an entirely different beast to reckon with. 

“I'll get in the pit and do the heavy lifting, you can treat and polish on the surface, we'll go for as long as we've got light and head back. It's gonna be a long day little bird”

The dig comes as a relief, the repetitive labour clears your head and Ezra seems to be filled to the brim with stories and anecdotes, although, you don't think you're actually learning much about him. The way he talks is open yet totally guarded, as if he has the compulsion to speak but the sense not to trust you. You aren't offended, it's not like you're exactly opening up to him either. The day passes quickly like this and as the sun dips too low to see well Ezra hauls himself out of the pit, tells you to pack up and you both head back to the pod to eat and sleep. You wake with his hand around your ankle again.

⧫⧫⧫

A couple of days in, the suns seem to be burning even hotter than before. The dig is gruelling and you’re grateful Ezra so far, hadn’t let you into the pit. You aren’t sure you could bear it in this heat. By the time you finish and return to the pod, taking off your helmet is a relief. You feel hot and sticky and bone tired so you plop yourself down into the cot in the main room still in your suit. Ezra chuckles, “You must be out of practice, else you'd still find these long days easy.”

Ah, so he is bringing it up. You raise your head to look at him, “I still kept up with you, didn't I?”

“True, true, although I am not functioning at full capacity at the present time.” He gestures to his arm.

You flop back and gaze at the ceiling, “Or I just survived a crash from space a few days ago and I'm still a bit worn out.”

That makes him laugh. It's a big warm noise, that makes you giggle too at the absurdity of it all. 

“Are you confident you wish to slumber there?”

“Why? You afraid I'm going to make another break for it?”

His grin is just a little softer now, “A little. But if I were you, I'd be more concerned about the neighbours might pop by.”

“Shit, alright” you sit up and instantly yawn.

“Let's get some food in you and turn in, little bird. If I'm not careful I'll have to carry you into my burrow.”

Smiling back, you mock him a little, “With your arm? I'm not sure you'd be capable.”

At that he grins and you realise you've given him a challenge he won't back down from. Stalking up to you like a cat he seizes you under the arms and hauls you against his chest making you huff and giggle as you try to wriggle free. He carries you across the pod like you weigh nothing and plonks you down on the little work bench. Hovering too close for just a moment too long, his breath ghosting your cheek.

“Now how about you keep your smart comments to yourself, lest I have to keep proving you wrong?” he smiles at you, letting you see the crow’s feet by his eyes. 

“I'll admit defeat this time I suppose, but you really should go easy on that arm!”

Ezra turns away from you, his heart pounding a little and reluctant to leave your embrace. Instead, he ignores the feeling urging him to clasp you close and grabs your food. As you slide off the bench and into a seat, he hands you a bowl. Neither of you attempt to meet the other's eye and both of you fail to see the flushed face of your companion.

Once again sleep comes easy, the hard work making your body crave rest to heal but even so in the dark you wake. There's no rush of panic this time instead you feel warm and sleepy as you glance at Ezra at the other end of the cupboard. He's not grasping your ankle instead his side is pressed against yours, leg to leg. It's cosy and in your half-awake state you don't think about how you had gone to sleep separated, and who had sought out whom in the black.

The next day goes much the same, you bicker before you head out deciding who should be in the pit and who shouldn't. Ezra concedes that he'll do the treating of the gems today if you keep alternating so neither of you gets too worn out. You agree though you point out yet again that he needs to go easy on his arm and he points out your bruises and gash on the head as hypocrisy. It's an argument with no malice and it feels refreshing to have a go at someone without worrying they'll get angry and shoot you. Although perhaps you should be more concerned by how at ease you are. If he was to see the scar on your arm, you doubt he'd be so understanding. 

As the day ends Ezra offers you his hand to pull you out of the pit, his touch lingering in yours for just a second too long.

⧫⧫⧫

Working like this you form a sort of routine. Up early, dig till you can't see, talk, eat, sleep, press together in the night. Ezra is starting to reveal little details about himself, where he was born, how he got into prospecting, his favourite books. In a way it makes you feel guilty for staying guarded, only relinquishing the barest details about yourself, but if he notices he doesn't point it out. 

A month passes like this and as you watch Ezra hop into the pit you wonder vaguely if he'll ever run out of things to talk about. He describes an incident where an amateur prospector managed to get his arm stuck in the pit resulting in its brutal amputation but your attention fails as you wait for the next potential gem and you look into the trees behind you. 

An uneasy feeling claws at you so trusting your gut you tell Ezra to shut up and get down out of sight just as someone emerges. No one you recognise, thank Kevva, and not a settler either. They are carrying a rifle though. Bowing your head to your work so they can't see your mouth move, you quickly describe what's happening.

“I can only see one, he's armed. A prospector. You stay quiet unless I shout.”

“Right then birdie. I await your call.”

You look up at the man staying on your knees and gesture your radio setting.

“What's someone like you doing out here all alone?” You repress a shudder at his tone.

“Same as you, I expect, making my way in the universe.” He comes closer and you fight the urge to back away but you don't want to draw attention to Ezra. “I don't have much to offer you and I don't take kindly to thieves.”

“Big talk from someone unarmed.” Wishing Ezra had given back your thrower, you stand and decide an attempt to bargain will be the best option.

“What do you want then, we can trade.”

“I'm not looking to trade anymore, I'm stuck here. My team's dead.” He levels his gun at you. “If you take me to your ship, I'll let you live for a price. Protest too much and I'll shoot and have my way while you bleed out.”

You gulp and stand starting to back away. Even with the element of surprise Ezra will have to act quick and be lucky if you both want to live. Why would he though, he doesn't have much motivation to risk his life for yours, he'll just have to hitch another ride. The man keeps moving towards you as you reach the edge of the pit, eyes not leaving your face and presses the gun to your chest. You glance down for a moment, hoping he doesn't look too, and see wide brown eyes and a miniscule nod. 

At the same moment Ezra reaches up, you drop back into the pit and land heavily on your back, winded. He slices across your assailants achilles tendon and grabs onto his leg pulling him in after you. Frozen in place, you watch the tussle, for the first time properly witnessing how formidable of a foe Ezra can be. His size and strength easily overpower the other man as he rolls on top, throwing down heavy blows that fill the air with the soft thuds of impact, like a heartbeat. A yell is cut off with a gurgle as Ezra shoves his blade into the man’s neck repeatedly, using his weight to hold the man down until he stills.

There's a moment before he turns, he lowers his head trying hard to calm his harsh breathing and sighs. “I do apologise little bird,” he turns to you scowl in place, eyes dark. “For my brutality, I'd rather you didn't have to bear witness.”

His voice is low and he's watching you carefully as you sit up. You feel lost for words at how far he'd gone to defend you, you wonder how close he got to becoming the man dead in front of you. Alone and cruel. All you can do is nod in response.

Ezra curses himself at how quiet you've become. Moving the body out of the pit had taken time and once done, as he watched you place a coin in his mouth, he'd announced that to continue the dig today would be futile with adrenaline running so high and at your nod you had gathered the equipment and headed back to the pod. He watches you carefully as you pull off your suit and decides that the fact you didn't just sprint for the trees after what he did was a good sign. But you continue to surprise him.

“Thank you,” you say softly, “For not letting him…”

“Nonsense, without the pleasure of your company I don't doubt my humanity would soon become as weathered as his own.” He frowns, “It was rather like being visited by the ghost of Christmas yet to come.” You tilt your head not really sure what that means but he shrugs. “Don't fret about it.”

Then there's silence as you watch each other. Lost in thought as you make your meal and eat.

Ezra ponders on the panic he felt deep in his chest at the waver in your voice. He wonders when saving you switched from utilitarian need to something more. He knows how stupid it is to get attached, how reckless. But your bright eyes and determination to stay alive were admirable and captivating and he craves to know more, what makes you laugh, how well you'd take him. He sighs and attempts to brush the lust aside. Even if you weren't terrified of him, he just knew you were concealing something.

The silence stretches out, both unwilling to break it, as you head into the burrow. For the first time, you sleep next to each other. 

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra is wrapped around you when you wake, safe and warm and comforting. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, its steady rhythm relaxing you before your brain starts whirring. Then you feel guilty, like you're taking advantage of him. He doesn't realise how much you enjoy him holding you close and you certainly don't deserve it. The weight of your lies heavy on your shoulders you ease out of his arms, careful not to wake him, and leave the sanctuary of the burrow. 

A wonderful dream slips away from him as he stirs. His little bird's weight in his arms, grounding him, giving him something to protect. Looking round for you and finding you gone, he swears and stumbles to his feet. Kevva, he hoped you hadn't left him alone.

He almost sighs with relief when he leaves his burrow just to spot you sitting by the window watching the suns rise, notebook in hand and mug beside you. You look up, a little wary of his wide eyes but shrug. “I couldn't sleep.”

“Me neither little creature, my dreams are haunted.” He picks up your mug and takes a sip, with a grimace he says “Can you truly enjoy something so acrimonious?”

You chuckle, “Habit I guess.”

“Well, it's certainly rousing” he smiles at you “What are you scribbling there?”

“I had a look round the ship, it's all the repairs I need to do.” You hesitate, “If we swing by the other crashed ship for a couple parts, we can be gone in two days.”

Ezra's eyes darken just a little, his voice low, “You wouldn't be trying to wiggle out of our agreement now? The dig isn't done and I demand satisfaction.”

He watches your mouth twist, “It's just I think our luck's run, the longer we stay the more trouble we're going to get like yesterday.”

“That cannot be helped, little creature. I'd like to live well for a while, and so, the dig must be completed.” You think to that other ship, there's immeasurable wealth on it but you can't tell him. Then he'd know what you were. So instead, you nod and start preparing for the day.

The change in your attitude has Ezra feeling nervous. He realises if he doesn't show a little faith, you won't feel safe and he'll lose you, and possibly himself. Just before opening the door to the waste, he turns to you, “Here.”

He's holding your pistol out to you, frowning slightly, you peer up at him “What?”

“If something like yesterday happens again I'd rather you be able to look after yourself,” you nod and reach for it but he keeps it in his grip for a moment, “Don't get any ideas” his voice is low and dangerous eyes hard on you. You swallow and nod shoving it into your holster.

To your relief the dig is quiet and Ezra has returned to chatting away to you from his perch outside the pit and eventually you're able to chat back making him laugh as the day passes.

There's a change between you, him trusting you to be armed has given you a chance to breathe, but, with that a new tension has come between you. One you're trying very hard to ignore. It’s crawled into your head and planted thoughts of closeness, of more, that you can ignore during the day but not at night.

After that day you'd formed a new routine. Going to sleep next to Ezra and waking up feeling secure in his arms before the guilt hits and you leave before he wakes. Not letting him know the comfort you've found there. 

⧫⧫⧫

Apart from the locals coming to bang on your walls every few days, weeks pass incident free as you both perform this dance around each other. Ezra finds that his cold showers are doing less and less to quell his lust, and heart is another matter entirely. So, he ignores it, treats you a little coolly, tries not to scare you off, it's getting more difficult now nearly every night he dreams of you. Sometimes it's lewd, sometimes you're chatting together, the worst are when he dreams he's just holding you. He might think it was real if not for how when he wakes up you aren't there.

Until the morning he wakes first. 

He's groggy, breathing deeply and so, so comfortable. It takes a moment to get his bearings. Shifting slightly, he realises how he's curled around you, hand on the strip of skin of your stomach where your shirt has rolled up, face pressing into the back of your neck and he has to fight the urge to kiss it. When you moan quietly, he props himself up on his arm looking down at you in the low light. For a moment he thinks you're having a nightmare but you flushed, breathing shallowly and he's certain you aren't. When you whimper, he shudders, such a pretty noise. He feels tempted to stay pressed against you, to touch you, to make you make more of those noises. He fights it off, and eases away from you stepping out of the warmth of his burrow. 

He thinks, perhaps later he can talk to you, there's nothing wrong with getting some pleasure and easing some stress in each other’s arms. There isn't long left of the dig and then you'll go your separate ways, the thought stings a little. He leans back against the door. Kevva, he craves more, he wants to learn every inch of you intimately, to learn what makes you tick, to wake up with you in his arms. It aches deep in his chest, so many years spent in poor company. He hears you moan once more and groans himself, pushing off the door he trudges to the shower.

For the first time in ages, he runs it hot before stepping in and grasping his cock. He lets himself take his time, starting slow, increasing the pace till he feels like he could explode then slowing right back down again. He doesn't fight off the images of you that spring into his head now he knows what you can sound like. He imagines you making them with his tongue on you, fingers buried in you as he presses you down, how you'd whine his name, how you'd beg. Ezra grunts, staving off his orgasm once more his cock red and throbbing with his heartbeat. He pictures sinking into you, hot and wet with you pliable in his arms as he fucks you into the ground. He cums hard with a growl and a curse and then curses himself both for being loud and for allowing himself to yearn for you, then finally he begins to wash.

⧫⧫⧫

You wake with a start, panting. Your dream is vivid in your mind. Ezra grasping your hands so you couldn't move as he fucked you with his tongue moaning against you. He'd talked too, both eloquent and totally filthy as he got you exactly where he wanted you. You huff, now you were left frustrated and still pining for a man who must just see you as a utility, a way to get off this planet. Hell, he barely even knew anything about you, didn't know the most important thing. But you know you can't stay in this limbo for long now, the digs nearly done and after then what can you do. There are two options, tell him who you are and how you feel and hope for the best or just ignore it, get off the planet, take your money, and go live the quiet life you'd intended. You focus on this debate and instead of the wetness between your legs as you leave the cupboard.

You look around for Ezra and exhale as you hear the shower running, there's no way for him to know what you were dreaming of, right?

That's when you hear him, it's a low, erotic groan followed by a string of swear words and you flush as you became achingly aware of how wound tight you are. You turn away and try to ignore it, heating up water for both of your cafs as the shower stops. 

As it brews the steel door swings open and Ezra emerges wrapped in a towel and glowering, you ignore his stare and the way droplets of water slide down his chest making you want to lick him as you hand him a mug. 

Ezra watches you gnaw on your lip as you look him over and can't hold in the grin at how frustrated you seem. He can't help but tease. 

“Did you have pleasant dreams little bird? You seemed unwilling to rise this delightful morning.”

His grin widens with your eyes as you look away “Err I don't remember… did you sleep ok?”

“Like I was in the welcoming arms of a lover” He doesn't miss your little inhale of breath, and he wonders how best to broach the topic of mutual pleasure with you. Perhaps it'll quell the urge to keep you safe in his arms.

The way Ezra is teasing you makes you think perhaps he can read your mind. As he goes to dress you make a decision, after the dig you'll explain how you really got here, explain how you don't want to leave him after the dig is done. And hopefully he'll be worn out enough that, should he decide you're too much of a liability, you can out run him.

As you head out an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, you tell Ezra as much but he just chuckles, “Perhaps you're still tired”

The morning goes smoothly, you're in the pit this time handing stuff out every so often to Ezra, his fingers brushing yours. Both of you work quickly, you puff, out of breath, as you stretch yourself up for yet another hand off. His ability to talk is once again surprising you. You laugh at his story despite the unease and the beat of the sun in your back and miss the delighted expression that crosses Ezra's face from your position in the pit.

Like a light switching, the energy shifts. You know there's trouble before Ezra mumbles through the comm “Little bird, stay down. Company approaches.”

Your blood runs cold when a voice responds, already on your frequency, a voice you know. “Greetings friend, we think you can help us out.”

Ezra eyes the pair in front of him, knowing you’d been made was adding a layer of worry to a tense situation, “I'll help if I can but, you're encroaching on my little territory you know how it is. I will be obliged to defend it”

You hear the pair step closer “Actually we're looking for someone,” your eyes slip closed as you stay stock-still, “See they greatly are responsible for our predicament. However,” the voice is clear like they already know you're here, crap, how long did they listen in? “If they were to help us find something we've lost. I can assure their punishment is… swift.”

You swallow as they step to the edge of the pit, Damon glares down at you “Hello darling, long time no see”

Ezra looks shockingly calm, still smiling as you glance at him, “Now then, that is not a polite way to address my partner.”

The other man scoffs, second in command Barlow, “Your partner? Back to your old ways I see.” He looks Ezra up and down. “You’re their type”

You think perhaps you see Ezra's jaw clench before he's grinning “It hardly seems fair for you to make off with my partner, does it? No, not without compensation which unless my ears deceive me, you can't give me without them.”

Before you can blink guns are drawn and you feel like a fish in a barrel, stuck in the pit without Ezra to pull you out.

“You don't know who we are, do you? I suppose in the suits you can't tell but I'd have thought with your… intimate relationship to our engineer you might have figured it out.”

Ezra’s gun doesn't waver for a second but his mind reels. The bandage on your arm, it couldn't be. Surely, he hadn't been so blinded by your company not to notice that. His eyes darken and he thinks, for a moment this man, Damon, realises he's going to die the split second before Ezra shoots.

Barlow’s slower, surprised at him for making the first move but despite his fumble this was a real stand-off. He meets Ezra's glare and they're frozen in time for a moment. Just as he watches the man start to squeeze the trigger and prepare to shoot, he flops sideways. Ezra swings his thrower round you see you, gun in one hand, body turned to the side, still poised from the shot neither of them had seen coming.

Ezra looks as surprised as you feel, even taking aim you hadn't been sure you should save him. But, in the second the men had forgotten about you, you'd let instinct take over and your instinct had chosen Ezra. You hoped it was correct.

Perhaps not. You watch as Ezra’s face darkens, his teeth bared as he levels his pistol at you. “Little bird” his voice makes you shiver despite the heat, “Be so kind as you toss your shooter up here. I think we will be having words.”

You can only nod, what can you do? He says he wants to talk so you'll talk, out of the pit. Where you can stand your ground. You swallow and throw your gun up to him. He gives you a curt nod picking it up and turning away. For a terrifying moment you think he's going to leave you here to die slowly but before you can beg him not to, he returns and tosses a pack down.

“Pack up your gear. We're leaving.” His tone leaves no room for argument so you pack away his equipment as quickly as you can and put it on as you wait and listen to him packing his own, wondering if the shots will draw more trouble.

After all the time spent getting used to his talking, his silence is terrifying. It allows you to think, to panic, to imagine the worst thing he can do. Probably leave you on this planet to rot or be torn to pieces by the locals. You squeeze your eyes shut at the thought.

“Come on now, your elevator awaits” You open them to see he's offering his hand down for you to grab. You do your best to ignore the pistol in the other as you grab a hold and scramble out of the hole you had been sure was going to become your grave. Ezra doesn't loosen his grip on your arm as he hauls you to your feet and strides away from the dig forcing you to trot behind him to keep up.

You stare up at him as he pulls you along trying to read his thoughts. He doesn't look at you scowling straight ahead, his grip vice like and bruising. You don't try to shake him off, you’re sure he's worked out who you are. Your former co-workers hadn't been subtle but you can't gage whether or not this is a walk to the noose.

⧫⧫⧫

Tugging you into the pod he releases your arm and turning to seal the door he finally speaks. “Take off your helmet” His tone sends goosebumps over prickling over your skin so you pull it off and go to set it down on the table. When you turn back, he's right in front of you glaring down eyes dark. It makes you feel tiny. “Show me your arm.”

His words are too concise, so abrupt you hesitate. It's like he's a different person, an enemy you aren't sure you should comply to. Ezra decides you're taking too long and seizes the top of your arms spinning you both around and pinning you against the pod's wall, knee hitched up between your legs keeping you in place. You squirm in a futile attempt to get away and gasp as he unzips the front of your suit and shoves it down to your waist. Ezra breathes heavily as he rakes his eyes up to your body to your face. Doing his best to swallow down his desire, he ignores your own heaving chest and grabs the back of your neck forcing you to look up at him.

“Little bird, take off that measly scrap of fabric and reveal the truth.” You gulp eyes wide fingering the knot of the bandage on your arm. Ezra gives you a little shake. “Do it now.”

So, you do, pulling apart the knot and unwinding it from your arm. You don't look at it, perhaps if you don't see it, it's not really there. Instead, you watch Ezra's face for his reaction, gleaning nothing as he releases your shoulder and grabs your wrist bringing it up for him to see clearly. His brow furrows as he inspects your forearm, a brand of three circles linked like a chain. Kevva, he'd hoped he'd been mistaken. You're frozen as his gaze returns to you, dark eyes furious he crowds around you, filling your senses, body pressing you against the wall. His leg shifts slightly between yours and you almost whimper.

“You've been dishonest, little bird, and I do not appreciate it.” Ezra feels at war, he's furious you lied but he understands why. He's fuming you had been running with a violent, malevolent group of pirates. He doesn't understand why you'd ran after the crash or why you'd turned to him. He wants to know what you have that your crew found so valuable. He wants to know how you're both so hard and so soft. All these thoughts rattle around in his head as he stares at you, your mouth slightly open and your lips wet, until he can only think about how good you feel pressed against him, how delicate you feel under the hand on your neck. How much, despite everything, he wants you. He doesn't notice how close he's gotten to you until he feels the puff of your breath on his face. And then you utterly surprise him.

You can almost hear him think as he stares down at you. You don't want to interrupt but his hold on you is drawing attention to his size, to how much strength and power he holds. It's like he's swirling all around you clouding your brain, filling it with him. So, you let yourself do what you want. You've got nothing to lose. Everything that's yours is in his hands and you can't bring yourself to care. He's leaning closer, bending so with his hand on your neck tilting your head up it's like you’re sharing breath. You close the gap and kiss him.

For a second, he freezes in surprise and then he's kissing you back. Harshly biting your lower lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth. It's desperate and rough and you lick into his mouth in response loving the low moan coming from deep in his chest. He releases your wrist and grasps your hip closing any distance left between you. He grinds into you, the leg between your thighs causing a delicious friction as you whimper into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and stares down at you for a second moving his hands to the bottom of your vest. At your nod he tugs it off and pounces back on you. He rubs his hands up your sides as he kisses you, loving the feeling of how big they are on your frame and how you gasp as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You wriggle against him trying to unfasten his suit and shove it down his arms. He obliges, stepping back he pushing it off and kicks it away leaving him in his underclothes, staring at you, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes you in. Then he's back on you, seizing your jaw and tilting your head up to look at him as his other hand tugs down the remainder of your suit taking your leggings with it.

Eyes look up and down your form, drinking it in as he reaches down to rub a finger over the wetness soaking your underwear. Your mouth drops open and Ezra seizes the opportunity to shove his thumb in your mouth, his grip adjusting to your chin. Smiling as you suck on it.

“Look at you” he coos dragging his nose into your cheek almost mockingly “On display for me, you look good enough to eat.” He punctuates this by biting your neck and pulling your thin underwear taut against your clit just enough you cry out and stand on tiptoe. He grins down at you as you bite down gently on his thumb and then pulls off your underwear letting you kick it aside before stroking his fingers across your slit so gently it makes you buck towards his hand. He moves his hand back to your hip, pinning you back to the wall as he pulls his thumb from your mouth and wraps his hand around your throat, not squeezing just resting there.

“I want you to stay still,” his voice is low and commanding so you nod. “Repeat it back to me, I want to hear you.”

You whimper, “I'll stay still” and he grins before bending to kiss and nip along your jaw above his hand as his other moves back down to your cunt. He circles your clit so gently it's like he isn't really touching you and just as he slightly increases the pressure he draws back. A needy whine falls from your throat but you stay still and he murmurs against your cheek.

“Good little bird, so wet for me. You're positively dripping,” and then just as slowly he eases a finger into. You cry out, so wound tight it's agonising, the contrast between how harshly he gripped you before against his irreverent touches now making you ache for him more than ever. “Sing for me little bird” he demands and then he's really moving, pressing his finger against that spot inside you that makes you see stars, thumb drawing circles over your clit making you moan so loudly it surprises you. 

Ezra watches the flush spread over your skin as your eyes roll back, he doesn't know how he wants you first. Just as you’re getting close, he realises. He wants you begging. 

He forces himself to pull his hand away from you and watches as you shudder with tension eyes opening to look up at him. “Ezra…” your voice is so soft he grins.

You watch him as he raises his hand to his face to lick your juice off it, sucking his finger with a pop. It's so erotic you can only whimper as he smirks down at you. You want to touch yourself, make yourself cum while he watches, but as you lower your hand down he grabs your wrist and moves it back to his shoulder. “Don't misbehave birdie, right now all your pleasure is mine.” You bite your lip.

Then he returns his hand to your pussy, this time shoving two fingers in pumping them as he rubs his thumb against your clit more firmly than before. Your body quivers but his hand against your neck keeps you in place as you moan desperately. As soon as you get close again, he slows down to a stop this time keeping you stuffed with his fingers as you try to get some friction. “Please Ezra,” the tone of your voice shocks you, you've never sounded so needy.

He moves his face away from biting your ear lobe to look at you, “Please Ezra what, little bird? You've got to be clear”

You can't stop the words tumbling out of you, “Please can I cum, please make me cum Ezra”

He smiles almost cruelly, “You sound so exquisite when you beg.” He starts working his thumb again, brushing his lips against yours. The hand on your neck finally starts to squeeze, turning you on more. “Do it again.”

You do, no power could stop you begging for him, saying his name like a prayer. And then you're cumming, your vision goes white as Ezra squeezes your throat firmly, cutting the blood from your brain dragging it out as he shoves a third finger into your wet pussy. 

Ezra swears he's never witnessed anything so magnificent. Your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth open and lips wet, unable to make a sound. How you soak his hand, how you tighten around his fingers. Now all he wants is to find out how many times, how many ways, he can break you apart.

When you begin to squirm, he reluctantly pulls away, you look up only to find he's pulling off his shirt and trousers. Your eyes widen as his cock springs free. You'd known he carried himself like he had nothing to be insecure about but Kevva… he's packing. It's huge and beautiful, slightly curved, a striking vein runner down it. You feel a little more breathless at the sight.

Ezra catches you staring and grins, pressing back against you, grabbing your arse and lifting you against him. You wrap your legs around him as he pins you up against the wall. His cock feels even bigger pressed against your stomach. Ezra grinds against you sucking marks down your neck as he notches himself at your entrance. You whine and claw his shoulders, he's barely into you and you're sure you've never felt so full. “Ezra” your voice is thready “Ezra I don't think you're going to fit.”

He coos in response thrusting shallowly getting slightly further in and making a cry out as you feel yourself drip around his cock. “Don't fret little bird,” he thrusts again getting deeper, kissing you, relishing the feeling of your heat around him, “I know you can take me.”

He thrusts decisively, bottoming out and pushing the air from your lungs. It feels like he's breaking you open, splitting you in two with his cock and you love it. Love the ache as you adjust, love how you can almost feel him in your stomach, love how he has you pinned to the wall supported by those strong hands and his body and totally at his mercy.

You can barely register he's talking as he grinds his hips against your clit. “... squeezing so tight around me. Never in all my time have I gotten so close to Nirvana.”

He waits until you've started to writhe in his arms, just add he'd imagined, begging for him to move. Then he starts long deep thrusts, interspersed by him grinding against your clit making you whimper and moan as you feel his cock drag across your walls.

“Kevva plucked you out of my head and sent you here for me. You're divine, exquisite…” you can't focus on the words, in no time at all you're cumming again. Squeezing him so tight he chokes on his words and kisses you deeply. He doesn't slow down or speed up, keeping his devastating pace until your body starts to relax. Then he nips at your jaw, hooking his arms under your knees and around your back, spreading his palms wide. He steps away from the wall and, slightly afraid he'll drop you, you grab the back of his neck, but you needn't worry. 

Now with you impaled on his cock suspended in the air by his arms, he truly begins to ruin you. Lifting you up and slamming you back he watches your cunt take him, watches how your breasts bounce, watches you throw your head back in a silent scream. He bites into your neck leaving a mark as he sets a brutal pace. Seeing you like this, feeling you like this, has stolen his vocabulary so he curses and growls as he watches, totally enraptured by how well you take him. He thinks maybe he tells you but he can't be sure.

Ezra’s still talking his sentences shorter but still as dirty, the way he praises you makes you moan and combined with his he is destroying you; you don't think you'll ever experience something this good again and then you don't think anything much at all. Just Ezra, his strength, his beautiful words, how perfectly he's fucking you.

Ezra knows he can't last much longer, not in this heaven but he's determined to make you cum again before he does just to feel it. So, he moves you slightly in his arms until he hits that bit which takes your cries even higher. He grins as you dig your nails into his shoulders, the slight pain both grounding him and making him lose his mind.

You feel so overwhelmed and overstimulated that when he adjusts his thrusting you can't help the few tears escaping as you wail. He just pulls you slightly closer and licks them up before staring down and watching how your pussy stretches to take him. You’re so close again you're sure you might explode if you don't cum, or if you do. And then you do, you can't even make a sound as your whole body goes rigid and Ezra doesn't stop pounding you. Instead, you hear him growl and curse and his thrusts get faster and shorter.

Ezra had never experienced anything hotter. The way you threw your head back and took it as he fucked you like a ragdoll. The feeling of you clenching around him. How you soaked him, the sound of your fucking would stay with him forever. And then he's cumming, he bites down on your shoulder groaning into your skin as he releases. His mind is wonderfully blank as he squeezes you against himself and fills you up with a dozen shallow thrusts.

He doesn't release you right away, just holds you to his chest as he turns to lean against the wall cock still in you. Blissful in the moments before his thoughts start buzzing again. When you can move you look up at Ezra, he meets your eyes, gaze totally unreadable. He reluctantly releases you with a groan and grabs his shirt as he kneels and begins to clean off your combined juices dripping down your legs. Seeing him on his knees taking care of you threatens to give you hope which you tamped down. He didn't know the truth yet and he had readily thrown you out once before. When he's done, he stands and tosses the shirt to the side, tugs on his soft under trousers as you pull on your own clothes. The silence feels like a giant pit between you and you glare at your feet unsure how to start this important conversation.

To your surprise Ezra gently pinches your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “We've still got much to discuss, little bird.” At your nod he pulls your hand into his ignoring how small and delicate it feels and gently tugs you towards the burrow. He has to know the truth.

⧫⧫⧫

You sit next to each other, his back against the wall, you sitting forward nervously running your fingers over the brand on your arm. Ezra just watches you, waits for you to explain and hopes you aren't a threat he'll have to get rid of after you've shared such intimacy.

“I don't… I won't come off like a very good person or partner when I tell you this. So just listen… please?”

Ezra nods, “None of us can be considered a good person, our humanity is dependent on our survival” he sighs, “Spin your tale, I'll remain in silence until it's done and keep my judgement of our partnership till it's completion”

You swallow, “I fixed a ship, that's how this whole mess started. We were leaving a dig and something had gone wrong which would have forced us to land. But I suited up and fixed it in zero G. It was completely stupid and shouldn't have worked but it did and we made it back to the dock. It wasn't till we'd sold off all our gems and separated that I was cornered. Turns out the malfunction wasn't an accident and by fixing it I'd cost them a lot of money in what they would have stolen from us. They reckoned I owed them and… they aren't people you want to owe”

You close your eyes and Ezra watches you tense. He'd like nothing more than to pull you into his arms but as he reaches for you, he clenches his fist. He needs to hear you out.

“They went through the rest of my team to get to me…” oh, Ezra understands they'd totally isolated you. “Well, they worked out since I could fix their brakes, I could mess up the ships in ways that couldn't be fixed without an emergency landing. They branded me there and then. Didn't even tell me how long I'd have to work to balance what I owed; probably thought I'd be dead by then.” You look down at your arm and frown.

When you look back at Ezra, his eyes are sharp, watching you intensely. “That scars old, little bird, how long did you dutifully aid their robberies.” Robberies of prospectors, people like him, people who'd been like you.

You look away, jaw clenched, “Long enough for it to get easy.”

Ezra doesn't move behind you, doesn't speak. You can't look at him.

“And then I couldn't anymore, I saw what I'd become and I hated it.” Your nails dig into your arm. “No one's good out in the fringe. But I was worse. I can't make up for what I did… can't take it back, can't return lives, possessions any of that. But I could stop, bring my crew down too. We used a distress beacon to lure in the other ships and…” you laugh “This time as I boarded after dealing with the other ship. I dunno, I just snapped and blew our engine too.”

Your mouth twists at the memory, “The pilot saw and I… when I was done, I just thought one down. I didn't want to die myself, that’s the easy way out, so I did my best to pull the chutes, hoping I'd play dead and hitch a ride out. Well, you know the rest.”

You stare straight ahead as a tense silence follows not daring to see Ezra glare at you. You don't see his soft eyes looking you up and down, his mind reeling. Had he known this when you’d first met, he would have shot you without question and left you to rot, your presence nothing more than a risk to his survival. But now, you’d saved him, talked with him, he’d gotten to know you. How you drink your caf black saying you’re “sweet enough”, how you look in the morning, how you laugh, how you moan. He knows he can’t kill you now, but you are a threat. He doesn’t know what to do. “Why are they searching for you? What do you have that they want? Your friend mentioned something.”

You laugh humorlessly, “They don't know where the other ship crashed, I was in the pilot’s seat, so no one else could see it go down. Fat lot of good it'll do them wrecked here.”

There's a bang on the side of the pod, “Shite” Ezra mumbles, “Our quixotic friends have returned.”

⧫⧫⧫

The wait for them to leave seems to take hours, the silence making your heart pound and your thoughts race over what you can do now. Ezra will definitely want you gone, only a mad man would keep you around with your history. Perhaps back to the original plan, see if you can mend the other ships escape pod and get the hell off this planet.

By the time the locals have decided your pod is empty, your plan is set. You stand, not looking back at Ezra. “I'll get scarce, I know I'm a problem waiting to happen.”

You grab your bag feeling in the pocket for your ring, a memory of a home you can't return to, old gods you're no longer sure are there. You look down at it as you step out of the burrow not noticing Ezra follow. You shove it into your suit pocket.

He is stumped for words as he watches you grab your possessions that have become scattered around the pod. He sees how your lives have become enmeshed. Scraps from your notebook scattered around where you'd played hangman or left notes and reminders for each other, items of clothing he watches you fail to pack, that damn terrible caf on the workbench.

He's not sure that he'll ever get all the pieces of you out of the pod, out of himself. You're under his skin, the very smell of you making his heart beat with more determination. As you reach for your helmet, he grabs your hand and finally you look up at him.

“Don't leave, I don't want you to leave.”

It's so simple but it means so much more and he thinks you maybe realise as you look up at him tears in your eyes. “I don't want to go.”

And then he kisses you. It's slower than before but no less fierce sparking a deep need in your chest. Gently now, he pulls off your suit as if he's still persuading you to stay before running his hands up your arms and down your back and sides like he's memorising your shape. When he kisses you again it's hungry, intense, he's trying to put words he's afraid to speak into it and it totally wiped your mind as you let him pull you back into his burrow.

Then he's peeling all your clothes off you. His touch is irreverent like he's unwrapping a precious artifact. He tugs you to lie down and settles between your legs pulling off his own shirt. He balances his weight on his arm above your head to nip at your lips, you reach up to run your hands up his chest, feeling him shudder as you gently rake your nails over the skin.

His other hand is squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple before seizing your hip and pulling you flush against him. The friction of his trousers against you, combined with how he's surrounding you, invading all your senses, is overwhelming.

“You are something else entirely,” he's kissing his way down your body, sucking purple bruises as he goes, seeming determined to mark every inch of you. “I could travel the whole breadth of this hostile galaxy and never find a sight as breath-taking as you laid out before me, a divine meal worthy of gods”

His words turn you on more as his ministrations make their way down to your legs. He bites your inner thigh almost too hard, making you squeal and jerk away but he grabs your hips and pulls you back, laving his tongue over the slight indent left by his teeth. You don't know how he's done it, not hours ago he railed you into oblivion and somehow, he has wound you tight all over again. It's like he's playing an instrument, plucking your strings both hard and soft so you melt.

His eyes meet yours, dark and hungry and he holds your gaze as he licks up your slit, his tongue wide as flat. You moan softly as he smiles, “Straight from the source your essence is even more delectable.” He stares at your pussy, seemingly fascinated by how it's fluttering around nothing, totally rapt by a droplet of your arousal sliding its way down.

You whimper at him, and try to buck your hips in his grip, desperate for him to do anything other than stare. He chuckles at you, “So willing to give yourself to me,” then he spits on your cunt. You gasp, half from shock and half from how much it turned you on. He grins as you tense and dives in.

Ezra eats you out like water from a well after crossing a desert. It feels as if he's writing the words, you’re stopping him saying all over your clit as you cry his name. His eyes closed he reaches up and seizes your hands, pulling you closer and settling his elbows over your hips keeping you still and at his mercy as he moans against you. Your eyes close as you feel sparks travel up and down your spine as he shoves his tongue into you making you whine but then he pulls away. Rubbing his cheek on your thigh, his beard tickling you.

“I want you to look at me little bird.” You can't help but obey his command instantly opening your eyes to see his pupils blown wide as he smirks. “You'd do just about anything for me to let you cum, wouldn't you? Don't worry your pretty head. I want you to cum in my mouth.”

Then he's back on you, sucking your clit between his teeth, you gasp his name trying to squirm away. his eyes piercing you, his mouth on you, his hands covering yours, his arms holding you down. It fills your head with him totally overpowering you and then you cum.

You go totally rigid, you're still looking at Ezra but your vision has gone so white you can't see him, just feel him moan against your cunt as you soak his tongue. Even as you start attempting to twist away, he continues, switching between sucking and licking at you as his strong arms pin you down. You cry out at the overstimulation, shuddering from it, tears leaking from your eyes and in no time at all you're thrown over the edge again. Cumming so hard your mind is totally wiped of anything but Ezra.

This time he grants you a reprieve, sitting up he watches your chest heave as you slowly come back into your body. He's lost for words, seeing you like this is better than anything he'd ever imagined and he still wants more, wants to ring every drop of pleasure out of you. And when you smile up at him, totally blissed out and willing, he's sure he'd do almost anything to keep you.

He doesn't put it into words though. Instead, he crawls over you seizing your jaw “Open that pretty mouth little bird,” something about how you so readily obey him twists in his chest and makes his cock twitch. He ignores it and bends close spitting into your mouth. You can taste yourself in it and it sparks your desire all over again.

He can't hold in a groan as you swallow, still smiling, his head seems too empty so he kisses you. It's fiery, filled with lust as you kiss him back and wrap your legs around him reaching down to pull off his trousers, he pulls back to kick them away as his cock springs free, it's hot and red as you wrap you hand around it, not even able to meet finger and thumb and squeeze slightly making him growl and bite along your jawline. “Tell me little bird, what would you will me to do?”

You meet his gaze, “Fuck me.” he groans into your neck, “Please.”

He watches your face as he positions himself at you entrance, “Kevva,” it's like he's not really talking to you, “I've never borne witness to anything so magnificent as your perfect cunt soaking me,” he slowly pushes his way in. It makes you whimper and him growl and you watch the tension in his neck as he restrains himself from ruining you, “Fuck you're tight.” His language is getting simpler as he starts losing control. His soft eyes beg you to let him move as his jaw clenches and you can't help but give in. 

“Please Ezra, move! fuck me”

The noise he makes is inhuman as he starts drilling into you. He shoves one of your knees up over his shoulder, deepening his thrusts making you cry out as he shreds against your walls. All he can think is how hot you are, how wet, how tight, how perfectly you take him. He's shoving up against your g shot with every thrust, coarse hairs grinding on your clit, you feel totally at his mercy to do nothing but take it and it may be the best sex you've ever experienced, ever will experience.

He looks beautiful, your juices still glistening on his face, brow furrowed and eyes half lidded but so piercing you might think he was furious if not for how in-between curses he's describing you, what he thinks of you. You aren't sure he even knows he's talking and the need in his words drives you higher and higher despite how spent you feel, how much you don't think you can cum again. And then you do. Kevva the way you clamp down on him clawing his back makes him lose his mind, he shoves both your knees up to your chest bending over you to bite you lower lip. The change in angle adds more friction, his thrusts get shorter, faster. Ezra cums so hard he can't think, you watch his eyes roll into his head, the groan he makes cuts off his own speech as he shoves himself as deep into you as he can get and releases. 

Ezra’s ears are still ringing when he manages to roll himself off you. Both of you are panting, as you stare at the roof of the pod and try to muster the words. Naturally, Ezra succeeds first. “Little Bird, I didn't know experiences such as that could be bestowed upon men like me.” You can only make a little noise in reply as he takes your hand and silence falls again.

Finally, when your breath is caught and you can both think again, he pulls you to his chest and wraps his arms around you resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Little bird, I'm starting to agree our dig may be bust. Trouble is biting our ankles and I should have listened earlier. Let's pillage what we can to fix the pod and get going. The dig is almost done, even split it'll be a while before I need to pick up another job.” You feel a sting at how quickly Ezra had returned to talking business but you do your best to brush it off. There's nothing wrong with some shagging between friends and it's no reason for him to feel the same fluttering in his chest that you do in yours.

“Right then we should travel light, get everything we need and come back. The fix won't take long, we can be gone in two days.” Two days left with Ezra makes you feel a little sad, you suppose you'd just gotten used to his company.

Ezra smiles grimly, “If we're lucky.”

You turn and roll over enjoying how he follows, wrapping you in his arms, tangling your legs like he can't bear to be separate. “I do have a question for you if you don't mind?”

You shrug, “Depends what it is.”

“What is that strange ring you carry but don't put on.”

“It's… it was a gift when I left home. It's supposed to be my payment.”

Ezra's mind casts back to how you paid honour to the dead, even those he certainly didn't think deserved a boatman. Saving them from a potential purgatory. But you didn't wear yours.

“Little bird, forgive my bluntness but curiosity is driving me to ask. Why don't you wear it?”

You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing away images of your past, grounded in Ezra's warm grip. “It's,” you sigh, “It's just too heavy.”

Ezra can feel how tense you've become and fights off the heavy guilt threatening to settle in his chest. You think yourself deserving of the hundred-year wait wandering the shore, think the loneliness is just. He kisses the back of your neck. “We should let our dreams take us lest we attract more trouble. It is salient we are well rested.”

You sigh, relaxing against him despite yourself. Long since exhausted by the day and his attentions, you let yourself drift off. Faintly feeling a hand caress your cheek, but you could have imagined it.

⧫⧫⧫

Waking up with someone warm in his arms is something Ezra could get used to. He tells you as much but you brush it off, someone isn't necessarily you after all. Ezra talks as you pack but he avoids the subject of you, of you both. He didn't want to scare you off, he tells himself, his flighty little bird. But he knows he's lying to himself, just being a coward, afraid of your reaction. He avoids meeting your eye until, helmets on, you both stand by the door. Taking a moment of peace before heading into the waste. He takes your hand seeking reassurance as much as trying to give it. You meet his eyes looking a little afraid but determined. He squeezes it tight before letting go and opening the door.

The walk East is easy enough, a pretty straight shot over flat ground. The only real problem being navigating the increasingly dense petrified forest. Ezra talks continuously, but you're grateful, glad it isn't awkward between you and enjoying his descriptions of other worlds he's visited. Where instead of breathless death and grey, there's vivid greens and blues of plants and flowers. Where the beauty is just as dangerous as this blank world. And, slowly, you start to talk too. Really talk. You describe a world that, to you, had seemed to be entirely made up of a casino, and the trouble you had gotten into there.

“Too rich for my blood,” Ezra chuckles and you agree.

You don't tell him about your home, not yet. But being able to talk, to laugh about something you'd done, feels freeing. Like a weight has been lifted ever so slightly off your shoulders.

You’re both grateful the walk is uneventful but you can't relax as the looming silhouette of the other spaceship appears through the trees. It's still too early for hope.

As you approach you see that the crew had successfully pulled their parachutes, but too late. The side of the ship had caved in where it had skidded across the earth, giving you both a way in. When you stop Ezra’s looking at you, “Any chance of survivors, little bird?”

You just shrug. “I doubt it after this. They were running a skeleton crew.” You wince slightly at the double entendre, hoping you have the time to find their bodies and pay their dues.

Ezra raises an eyebrow at you. “On a ship this big? That is most peculiar.”

“I guess, I didn't get a chance to think about it at the time.”

You go over the list again, 5 items, 5 areas. All small enough to carry in your packs. To yourself you add another item, just in case you get the chance.

“We stick together, watch each other’s backs.” You nod in agreement and you both step into the ship.

⧫⧫⧫

There's a faint dripping noise, like a clock ticking. It sets off your nerves as you leave the light of the suns. Inside is cast in red, a good sign the electrics haven't been fried, but totally unsettling. It casts humanoid shadows across the grated walls seemingly flickering with every step. Ezra had gone totally silent but his presence behind you is reassuring. Together you pry open the first door.

Inside has the same red light but the weapons board flashes at you telling you it's still live which is strange. You mumble it to Ezra. “These things usually shut down first after a crash, they drain loads of power that's usually diverted out.”

He frowns at you. “Mayhaps a malfunction? It looks like a rough crash.”

“Yeah. Probably.” But it niggles at the back of your brain. All you can do right now is ignore it so you wrench the panel out from the wall to the side and stick your arm in. Feeling around, you brush your fingers up against the dotted cylinder you need. These old ships had a habit of hiding important components in baffling locations, apparently to protect them in a crash which you do suppose this has, but you suspect it's to confuse novice engineers and pillagers alike. 

Ezra is keeping a sharp eye on the door but he can't help but enjoy watching you work, grumbling about what a stupid place this was for a fuse break and how it would have been harder to wreck their engine had it actually been where all the ships power came from. He grins at you and you smile back tugging the, whatever it was, out of the wall. He tosses his pack over to you.

“I'll get this one birdie,” making you roll your eyes but you gently place it in and hand it back. 

“Take care of that.”

“I'll cradle it as if it were a new-born.” He says so sincerely you can't help but snort.

“Don't worry too much, ships like these are made hardy, they don't just fry things like your pod.” He scowls playfully at you as you head back to the corridor.

“I will not hear a negative word about her, we've been together for years.”

The ship groans around you as if it's a living creature as you head deeper in. The maze of corridors makes Ezra feel turned around but you seem to know where to go and he follows dutifully. The next stop is a storage closet smaller than his little burrow.

Inside is a collection of boxes from which you produce two tiny discs. You look at Ezra, “I doubt they'll mind me taking a spare, these things are expensive.” Still not being entirely sure what everything you're searching for is, he just shrugs,

The moment of ease sputters out when you enter comms. There's a buzzing that sets your teeth on edge, someone's been on the radio. Ezra clicks it off but the silence is suddenly oppressive. Trying hard to hear any sign of life you scan the dark corners of the space. 

“We don't know how long this has been on.” Ezra’s voice is steady but there's an edge you know too well. You agree all the same, hurrying to rip the tubing out from under the console. The blinking lights shut off with a hum as Ezra takes it from you, looping it together and shoving it into his pack. You don't argue.

Two items left, you'd saved the cockpit and the engine till last, both at the opposite end of the ship. 

The door to the cockpit is open. you look at Ezra, his jaw is set glaring into it. You head in first moving swiftly to the control panel to the side to start pulling the whole thing apart for one measly chip. He disappears into the shadows to search the room. It's too big, too many places to hide, he thinks to himself trying to picture the best place for an ambush.

He finds one body, curled in on itself as if tossed into the corner. The next is under a nav table, arms over its head. The final one is the hardest to look at, in the pilot seat, hand still grasping the parachute release. He swallows as he takes in this futile effort to survive, picturing the final moments as the ground rises to meet them, the hopelessness.

He spins when he hears your voice.

“Wait, wait!”

“You should have stayed away-“

Ezra doesn't even think, he just shoots and the man with a blade at your throat drops. He didn't even know he could draw that fast. He fights off the adrenaline, calming his breathing as he approaches you. Your eyes are wide with shock and you take a deep breath looking up at him.

“Thank you, Ezra.”

He just wants to pull you close, hold you against him, protect you with his body. With the suits and helmets, it would be uncomfortable so he grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest.

“Think nothing of it.”

“I didn't think there could be any survivors.” At that he examined the body. Shit, the suit, the emblem, the skull etched into the glass of his helmet.

“That, little bird, is because there aren't any. It appears that the locals are here.”

You squeeze his hand. “We've got to hurry.”

He nods, “Give me three coins.”

He’s found them. You'd already known they'd be dead but the confirmation sits heavily over you. You hand him the coins.

“You finish here, I'll take care of them. Don't worry.”

The kindness he's showing by doing it for you aches in your chest. You take the frustration out on the unsuspecting control panel. Tearing into it, pulling parts out, desperately trying to get a grip on your emotions and breathe a sigh of relief when you emerge, chip in hand. No one has ever extracted one so quickly you reckon. You shove it in your pack.

Heading to Ezra you take his hand, try to convey thanks through the touch alone. Thanks for saving you, thanks for not making you bear this burden solitarily, thanks for just being company after so long alone. You look up at him, he's chewing his words again but doesn't speak so you turn and lead him out.

In the engine room you seize a battery and yank it from the wall, grateful the lights stay on. Ezra takes it from you. “Don't argue birdie I'm bigger than you.”

He's cut off by a horn echoing through the ship. You swallow. 

Taking his hand again, you both creep out of the room. Every sound is too loud, you curse your boots, the rattle of your tools, your own harsh breathing. You can't fail now, you're so close. At the sound of footsteps, you pull Ezra through a door into a room with bunks, closing the door as quietly as you can, you both hold your breath. As they pass the door his grip tightens on yours so much you feel the heat of his hand through your gloves. His eyes scan your face, like he's trying to memorise what you look like. You realise you’re doing the same to him.

When they pass you glance around the room as Ezra slumps against the door his eyes shut tightly. As you let go of him you see something in the corner of your eye. No fucking way. It's a gem case, unassuming on the outside but far bigger than the one Ezra carried. Item number six.

You shove it into your bag.

⧫⧫⧫

Neither of you seem to breath for the rest of your journey through the ship. Eyes and ears too peeled to do much else. The second you see the light outside you swallow. You say a prayer to yourself as you creep towards it.

The light blinds you as you step out. Something shoves you to the side, you hit the ground hard knocking the wind out of you as you try to see what hit you. The second your eyes adjust to the light you see Ezra trying to knock back one of the locals, trying to gain space to draw. You wrestle your pistol out of your holster and aim but you can't shoot. Their dance is too close and you're afraid to hit Ezra. 

It all happens in slow motion. The stranger thrusts his spear into Ezra's stomach and pulls it out. He cries out stumbling back giving you a straight shot. You fire the same moment as the local brings his spear down on Ezra’s helmet.

You shoot too late. 

Ezra drops back against the ship sliding to sit. Shattered glass glitters over the ground around you threatening to cut your knees as you crawl to him. His helmet is shattered.

“No no no no no” you press on the wound in his stomach tugging your pack off your back to get the med kit. “We've got to go, there's going to be more of them.”

He puts a hand over yours. “Little bird, I'm afraid my adventure has come to its conclusion”

You look at his face. “No Ezra! I can close this for now, we've got time. We can make it back.” His eyes are wide and sad, wet with the threat of tears. “Don't look at me like that!” There's desperation in your voice.

“You've got to go. Relieve yourself of my burden, you can repair the vessel and get away by yourself. You don't need me.”

“Shut up! I can't just leave you here.” You push his hands away and pull out a gun of sealing foam “Don't fucking argue with me, we've got so close you can't just give up.” Ignoring his arguments, you press the nozzle through his suit and fill his wound. He lets out a groan. As quick as you can, you pull your pack back on and stand seizing Ezra's arms and heaving him to his feet. He gives a short shout of pain but doesn't protest as you hook his arm over your shoulder for support.

You start to walk like this as the suns begin to dip. Keeping your pistol in your free hand you scan around you. The dead trees provide good cover but they also give any attackers the element of surprise so you do your best to listen out whilst you support Ezra.

It's a little difficult with his talking but you can't complain, not when it means he's still alive. But he's getting heavy, putting more weight on you, you don't know how long you can hold him up. Just as you're beginning to feel truly weak his topic of conversation changes.

“Little bird, it has been an exponential honour to be enclosed within your company. To have your trust if only a little. Kevva, the chance to learn your body the way I got to was a treasure worth more than any gem I could find. I only wish I could learn your mind just as intimately, to possess the knowledge of what makes you laugh, cry, your favourite food, favourite music. I'd cherish every drop of yourself you'd let me have until I could carry a vault of you with me”

“Ezra, don't…”

“The opportunity is being stolen from me, I both resent it and I'm so grateful for the time I've had. Little bird, don't let my soliloquy deceive you. I mean every word.”

You can't stop moving, but you grab onto him a little tighter. Letting yourself squeeze your eyes closed just for a moment to fight off the tears. There's no guarantee he'll survive, no hope yet, no point admitting feelings just to let him die. It would hurt too much.

You keep walking. Reminding Ezra to breath as slow as he can. Holding yourself together just to keep him upright.

Then you see it, your pod, through the trees, dark against the burning red sky. 

There are two locals at the door. They turn.

Before you can think to react, Ezra pushes you aside as a spear careens where you'd just been stood. Drawing before you can blink, he fires twice. The locals fall. And then, so does he.

⧫⧫⧫

You aren't sure if you're saying his name out loud or just in your head. You roll him into his back and try to shake him awake. He doesn't even stir. 

Instead, you seize the straps of his pack and use them to drag him towards your pod.

Your muscles are screaming after supporting him for so long but you don't let up, drawing strength from who knows where.

How did the pod seem so close minutes ago? Now it's miles away.

You don't know when you started crying.

You don't stop moving, can't stop until you've managed to pull him inside and seal the door. You yank off your helmet, tossing it aside and falling to your knees next to him pressing your ear to his chest, desperately trying to hear his heart through his suit.

It's dead silent.

That's when you scream. Tears streaming down your face you bring your fist down on his chest as hard as you can.

“Breath you bastard! Take a fucking breath!” You're sobbing now, “You can't just leave me here, leave me all alone. Not after all this. Not when we got so close.”

You curl over him pressing your face to his, your tears dripping onto him leaving tracks through the dust and blood on his skin. “You can't leave me alone,” it's barely a whisper. “Ezra.” You say his name over and over again like a prayer.

And then his chest moves. 

You don't know whether you should laugh. You just keep bawling as you tear off his suit and grab his hand.

He doesn't wake up but it's enough, you squeeze his warm hand for another second before wiping at your face and getting your med kit. “Let's see what I can do about this wound hmm?”

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra hears someone calling his name. But they seem so far away. He tries to move towards the voice but it's like moving through syrup. He lets himself sink back.

⧫⧫⧫

The wound is deep and spurts with blood as you pull out the foam, painting your hands in the same red as the sky outside. Pursing your lips, you apologise to him, hoping he doesn’t feel the pain. Cleaning the wound takes time but as far as you can tell the spear managed to avoid all his organs so you seal it up as best you can. The lack of oxygen is what has you truly worried, who knows what damage could have been done in the time it took you to drag him to the pod. With your medication he might heal but you can’t be sure. You fight off the thoughts of what you’d have to do if he never did wake up. Would you be able to bury him?

You sleep curled to his side, a hand on his shoulder. It’s fitful, plagued by nightmares of waking up to find him cold. Every time you wake up crying, you watch his chest rise and fall and pray, he’ll make his way back to you.

⧫⧫⧫

The next thing he hears is a clang followed by a curse, then it's silent again

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra made it through the night. To distract yourself from worrying he might never wake, you wrap him up warm and begin to repair the pod. It’s slow work but its methodical movements help regulate your breathing. Until you hear a grunt. You drop whatever you were working on and swear to yourself as you kneel by him. But he’s no more present than before. Perhaps you had imagined it. Prayed so hard you’d began torturing yourself. You look over him, how could you go on without him. No one to make you laugh, or care what happens to you. It’s justice you suppose, just another thing for you to feel guilty about. You suppose you’ll go on just to keep feeling that guilt.

Again, you barely sleep.

⧫⧫⧫

And then, as if surfacing from a dive, Ezra opens his eyes. His back hurts. He works out why as, slowly, he identifies the ceiling above him. He's lying on the floor with nothing more than a pillow and a blanket that's been tucked all around him up to his neck. He wrestles his arms free, stretching them above his head and then prodding his stomach, it's tender but the wound is closed. Then he sits up with a grunt.

You're stretching up to try and pull a ration bar of the top shelf of your measly kitchen cupboard. You swear and turn to find something to climb on and then you see Ezra.

He's sitting up, grinning from ear to ear. You nearly jump a foot into the air and then you’re frozen to the spot. He chuckles to himself and clambers to his feet, it looks difficult but you aren't sure you can move to help so you stay put as he supports himself along the wall and approaches you.

“Little bird, you are the most incredible, fascinating, stubborn creature I have ever laid my eyes upon.” And then he's pulling you into his chest, wrapping you in such a grip it's a little difficult to breath but you don't mind. You just hug him back, if gently, very aware of how he'd recently been stabbed. He buries his nose in your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Three days, I managed to melt down some meds to inject you so you… well, so you actually healed. Oh, and then I fixed the pod but it didn't feel safe to take off what with you having a hole in you.”

He laughs, you can feel it rolling through his body and it makes you grin. It's so alive.

“May I also ask why I was on the floor?” That's your cue to laugh to. 

“Do you honestly think I could lift you onto the cot?”

“Frankly little bird, I didn't think you could have got me to the pod. You are certainly a force to be reckoned with and not one to be underestimated.”

You close your eyes and breath him in. “I almost didn't make it.” He just shushes you running his hands up and down your sides.

“No point wondering what could have been birdie. You saved me.” You look up at him, his eyes are wet as he smiles down at you. “What I did to deserve it may evade my knowledge forever, but it must have been spectacular.”

You feed Ezra and then force him to stay still for the day. Even as he protests you don't really think he minds, finally getting an opportunity to finish reading ‘The Power’. You sleep curled into his side.

The next day you leave.

⧫⧫⧫

Two days floating in space before the station slings back to pick you up. The sense of relief is immense. Ezra is in the seat next to you, any other person telling such a graphic tale about a flight home wrong would've sprung anyone with nerves but you just grin. You made it, you both made it.

“Even split, little bird? Although, I can't say I find the idea of us separating particularly appealing.”

You grin, “Me neither, although I do maintain the even split, you save my arse, I save yours.”

He smirks, “I'll have your arse anytime” you smack his knee with what was formerly his copy of ‘Perfume’. He scowls playfully, tossing his own book aside and tugging you into his lap.

And then looks totally bemused as your mouth drops open, “Holy shit I can't believe I forgot!” You hop off him and he grumbles at you but watches curiously wondering what you'd forgotten that was so important. You kneel to open your pack, pulling out a gem case. A huge gem case.

“Where in that abhorrent hell did you manage to acquire that?”

“I think it was why I was told to bring down that ship, I picked it up in the bunk room.”

It's locked but you happily spend the next half an hour gently taking apart one screw at a time. Ezra watches you the whole time, not even thinking about your bounty, just enjoying how you hum to yourself and smile every time a screw comes loose, batting his hands away every time he grabs at you. It's domestic.

You meet his eye as the last screw comes loose and he joins you kneeling on the floor. “Let's not get our hopes up” you say, “We've got more than enough to last a while whatever happens.” He nods and you pull the case open.

His jaw drops. “That is remarkable.”

You meet his eye and laugh. You've never seen him look so surprised. There are three gems inside, each one about the size of your head.

He lets out a huff of laughter “I’m beginning to suspect there was nefarious business afoot on that ship…”

“Ezra?”

“Mmhm?”

“I think I'd like to go somewhere with a sea.”

“Little bird, I suspect that can be arranged” Then he kisses you, pulling you against him.

You wriggle back, “Even split?” He just grins and bites at your ear.

In no time at all you’re in his lap as you pull off each other’s clothes. He rubs his beard against your bare neck to make you giggle as he nibbles it, hands roaming all over you. You nip his collar bone making him groan, it flips a switch in him and seconds later he’s grabbing your hips to position you over his cock.

He lowers you down so slowly it makes you squirm and whimper and beg him to move.

He grins at you, catlike, “We’ve got all the time in the world, little bird. And I intend to use it”

⧫⧫⧫

Hours later you wake. Ezra is snoring quietly into your neck tempting you to rouse him. You’re thirsty though, so, reluctantly, you peel his arms off you to get a glass of water. As you return your toe catches on your suit where it lies on the floor. As you reach to move it your ring drops out of the pocket, clinking quiet onto the ground.

You bend to pick it up and look at Ezra, then back at the ring. Had you not gone through all those years in that gang of pirates, you’d never have found him, never got to save his arm or his life. You both might be dead. You had been right; you couldn’t change your past. But you’d never know what else might have happened. There’s still guilt, there always will be. But you feel a little lighter.

You put on the ring and return to Ezra. He pulls you against his chest without waking.

You smile.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @engineeredfiction @mothandpidgeon @sleep-tight1

#ezra prospect #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect 2018 #pedro pascal #ezra fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x afab reader #smut #oh god I've done it

[wistfulcynic]

till we be dead ourselves

I saw a thing today that made me a bit cross and reminded me of how unsatisfying I've always found the Brothers Jones reunion in the underworld. This is the result. It's not anti-Liam but it does change him quite a lot from canon, so if that's not your jam you may want to skip this one.

Basically, this is the Brothers Jones I would have liked to see.

Also, at least part of the inspiration came from chatting with @thesschesthair and @winterbythesea about alternative POVs on our OTP. So here, guys, have a Liam. Beware, there are feels. 

SUMMARY: Liam Jones has been waiting for his brother for three hundred years. When he finally arrives, he's not as Liam remembers. Some not-typical or particularly respectful of canon Brothers-Jones-in-the-underworld feels, plus a dash of Captain Swan.

words: 2025 rating: T tags: not canon compliant, underworld AU, brothers jones. Major characters are already dead. 

on AO3

-

till we be dead ourselves: 

He’s been waiting a long time for this. Three hundred years. 

Well, two hundred ninety-three years and eighty-six days, to be precise. He knows because he looked it up. He had to. It’s not easy keeping track of time here; some seconds tick so slowly they’re torture while years can pass in the blink of an eye. 

Years, such as they are. There aren’t really years in this place, or truly ‘time’ at all. There’s not really anything. This is nothingness, a void, a repository for whatever souls are made of, and different to each one. They’re trapped here, these souls, until they finish whatever business still remains for them, and over the centuries he’s seen so many come and go—some sorrowfully confused by what they need to do, others firmly certain. 

As for Liam Jones, he’s always known why he’s here. His unfinished business is Killian. 

On the day Killian arrives Liam can barely contain his excitement. Not just because he may finally be free of this place but because he longs to see his little brother again. He’s missed Killian, and also he’s keen to know what the devil took him so long. How is it possible that his brother’s life stretched on for over three hundred years? 

He walks quickly through the town—an odd little town, unlike any he encountered while alive. His afterlife has manifested it for only a few years. Before that it was ships and ports and then it was jungle. Ships and jungle, jungle and ships for so very, very long. He’s come to realise that his afterlife reflects what his brother does Above, though what precisely that consisted of he is not privileged to know. He’s hoping Killian will tell him. 

He knocks on the door of a large, blue house and waits, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. When it opens he turns with a smile that freezes on his face. 

The man framed in the doorway is his brother, unmistakably him, yet Liam finds he’s not prepared for how much Killian has changed. He feels foolish for being taken so by surprise; of course Killian is not what he remembers. He’s not still the eager young lieutenant he was when Liam died, obviously not. He couldn’t be. 

But the man before him is… hard. Jaw set and eyes cold, with an aura of both danger and command. A man not to be trifled with. His face is still youngish—mid-thirties, perhaps—but his eyes are ancient. Tired and bitter and heavy with the weight of ages, and abruptly Liam feels very, very young. 

“K-killian?” he ventures. 

Killian’s brow wrinkles in confusion that lasts an uncomfortable beat or two, and then it clears. His eyes widen. “Liam,” he breathes. “Is it really you?” 

“It’s me, brother.” Liam attempts a smile again. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

“Bloody hell.” 

Killian pulls him into a hug which he returns warmly, though the sound of curse words on his brother’s lips has stunned him. He smells of leather, and of the sea. And rum. Liam blinks through a fresh wave of astonishment. Killian has been drinking. Drinking rum. 

Killian pulls back from the hug but keeps his hand on Liam’s shoulder. His eyes are crinkled by a smile that Liam can’t help noticing barely touches the depth of sadness in them. “It’s good to see you, brother,” he says. 

“You’ve changed,” Liam blurts, then curses his impulsive tongue when the smile fades from his brother’s face. 

“Aye,” Killian says. “It’s been some time.” 

“Three hundred years, give or take,” Liam agrees. “How? How was it that long?” 

“Perhaps you’d better come in, Liam,” Killian says. He steps back and holds the door. “We’ve rather a lot to discuss.” 

-

Liam spends that first night in his brother’s house. Killian seems at a bit of a loss for what to do with himself in all the space and curiously reluctant to speak of why his afterlife has manifested such a dwelling just for him. Of course the dead don’t truly sleep, but Liam passes the night deep in thought, still in shock over what he’s learned about life his brother led. 

Killian is Captain Hook. A pirate. A man whose name Liam has heard in hushed whispers on the lips of many a soul who’s passed through this place. None of those whispers spoke of anything good. 

He cannot reconcile his little brother, even three hundred years of bitter loss and violent struggle later, as the cruel and vengeful villain of those tales. He cannot. It’s simply not possible. 

“Much of what they recounted was likely exaggerated,” Killian said wryly, “or hearsay. But I’ve done much I’m not proud of, Liam. I killed men without a second thought. I plundered lands across the realms. I have not led a good life.” 

“Then why are you here?” Liam demanded. “If you were as bad as all that, you wouldn’t end up in limbo.” 

“Perhaps I may have done enough in the past few years to warrant a chance at redemption,” Killian reflected. “I suppose we’ll see.” 

“And do you know what your unfinished business is?” 

Killian swallowed visibly, then nodded. “I believe I do.” 

-

Over the next week Liam keeps an eye on his brother. It’s not that he’s concerned—well, yes, it is that he’s concerned. There’s a restless energy to Killian that makes Liam uneasy, worried that he might do something rash. So he watches, from a distance, as Killian sets about finishing his business. He watches his brother seek out many of the men who bore the tales about him, those who still remain at least. He sees the fear in those men’s faces, and the anger. Sometimes he hears their voices, raised and vicious. It pains him to witness these things—not least the shame on Killian’s face—but he forces himself not to interfere. 

His brother is not a man to be trifled with. 

One day he observes Killian deep in conversation with a woman, dark-haired and statuesque. They stand close together in the manner of those who’ve shared a deep intimacy, and even from a distance he can see that they are crying. Killian pulls the woman into his arms where she weeps into his shoulder, and before they part he presses his lips to hers. 

It’s farewell. 

With every interaction Killian’s burden lessens, though he remains weighed down by things Liam can barely fathom. Each night they meet at the blue house, where they sit together and talk. They have three hundred years of catching up to do. As they talk Killian drinks, and Liam has begun to as well. He senses his brother could use company in more than conversation, and it’s not like alcohol can harm the dead. It doesn’t do them much good either, but the phantom rum seems to soothe Killian, and loosen his tongue. 

Though not enough, Liam comes to realise, for Killian to speak of why he’s really here. 

-

Her arrival sparks an uproar such as Liam has never experienced, even in all the time he’s passed in this place. She shouldn’t be here. She can’t be here. It’s not possible. 

Yet here she is. 

Word of it spreads like wildfire; Liam is polishing glasses at the bar where he inexplicably works when it reaches his ears. 

“They say she’s alive,” says one of the regulars, in hushed tones. “Alive, and here.” 

“That’s impossible,” Liam scoffs. “None of the living can come here. And even if they could why would they want to?” 

“She’s here to rescue someone,” the regular replies. “Her true love. That makes it possible, or so they say.” 

“And the man died in sacrifice,” another adds. “Huge sacrifice, before his time.” 

Before his time, Liam thinks. That should rule Killian out. Yet he can’t shake this feeling, this creeping suspicion born of Killian’s refusal to discuss how he died, or how he lived these past few years. There’s a reason this town is his afterlife, and Liam’s too. There’s a reason he’s alone in that big house. 

He sets the glass down, and the rag. “I have to go,” he says. 

-

It couldn’t be more obvious that the woman doesn’t belong. She’s visibly, ostentatiously alive, so full of life she glows. It draws the souls—ghoulishly, Liam thinks—but none dare approach too closely. The woman looks as though if anyone could kill a soul that’s already dead, it’s her. 

She heads down Main Street and Liam follows. Past the diner and the library, around the corner and up the street where Killian lives. A tight knot forms in Liam’s chest as she walks up to the blue house then stops, with her hand on the gate. 

The door flies open and Killian appears on the porch. He stares at the woman, who offers him a smile that strikes Liam as far too tremulous for her take-no-prisoners demeanour. 

“Swan,” Killian chokes. His voice sounds broken. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to save you,” the woman replies. She opens the gate and takes a few steps forward. Killian stumbles off the porch to close the distance between them. 

“You shouldn’t have come,” he says. “You shouldn’t be here, not here. Not you.” 

“I had to, Killian!” She looks up at him imploringly. “You shouldn’t have died like that. You shouldn’t have had to make that choice.” 

She takes his hand and laces their fingers tighter. Killian’s breath catches. “Come back with me, Killian. Come home.” 

“I can’t,” he whispers.

“You can. I know a way.” Her voice drops as she steps closer, but Liam can still hear her words. “Don’t try to make me live the rest of my life without you, Killian Jones,” she says. “I won’t do it.” 

“Swan—” 

“I won’t do it,” she repeats. “I love you.” 

Liam can see the moment Killian breaks. He snatches the woman into his arms, holds her tightly as she clings to him and magic twines palpably around them. This is not what he had with the brunette, Liam realises. That was love, yes, and intimacy. It was grief, deep and terrible but of a normal sort. 

This is agony. This is two souls that should never have been parted and the connection that still binds them, so powerful it can draw a living woman into the land of the dead. 

No wonder Killian couldn’t speak of her, Liam thinks, or of the circumstances of his death. The pain must have been too great. 

Liam’s been dead so long he’s forgotten how sensitive a subject it can be. 

The man died in sacrifice, he recalls. Huge sacrifice, before his time. 

He died for her. And now she’s here to bring him back. 

-

“This feels too soon,” Killian says, as he hugs Liam tight. “I only just found you again.” He pulls back and gives his brother a shrewd look. “And I sense that when I’m here again, you no longer will be.” 

“No,” Liam agrees. His business is finished now. And Killian’s not coming back, not to this place. Not if Emma Swan has anything to say about it. The next time Killian Jones dies it will be with his life’s purpose fully met. 

He’s glad they had this time, though, and not just because he needed it to move on. He’s glad he got to know his brother as a man, a flawed and troubled one, yes, but one who has goodness at his core and is finally where he needs to be. It only took three hundred years for him to get there. 

He’s also glad Killian is still shorter than he is, for all that Liam appears ten years younger than his brother now. He’s glad because he can still wrap his arm around Killian’s neck and ruffle his hair. He does so now, though Killian’s indignant “Oi!” of protest twists his heart. He sounds so like his younger self, that boy Liam spent centuries waiting for and will never see again. 

“I love you, little brother,” he whispers. 

Killian swallows hard, and nods. “I love you too.” 

#cs ff #cs ff au #underworld au #brothers jones #not canon compliant #or especially respectful of it #alternative version of Liam #killian pretty much as is #here there be feels #my own version of the underworld #not quite a ficlet #till we be dead ourselves #profdanglaisstuff

[smallblip]

Will there be any prologue to your Levihan Royalty AU? Like, how did Levi meet Hange? How did Hange marry The King? When was the first time they fell for each other? For the daughter.. Idk why I pictured Mikasa in my mind, except for the nose part tho. UGH I really love the story sooooo much! Can't get enough of it.. 😭

Hey! I searched my blogs because I remember writing in the tags of a post that I always imagine Mikasa to be Levihan’s kid? And I realised that post is in my drafts? Anon you read my mind? 😨

I don’t think I addressed everything but here’s a little Drabble in the same Royal AU💖 I imagine this to be the same AU mentioned in Deep Sea Baby💖 (I took a chunk from there)

A thousand burning suns pt. II

Tell me about my mother.

The girl asks as Nanaba braids her hair, fingers working deftly through untameable raven hair. By next fall she will ask to have it cropped short.

Your mother is Hanji Zoë, and she’s the bravest person I know.

And of my father?

Nanaba puts flowers in her hair, they’ll fall off by mid-day, but for now, she’s content with the stories Nanaba tells her. Her book lies abandoned on her lap.

Your father is Levi Ackerman, a man whose spirit cannot be broken.

—

Hanji was born with the secrets of the universe etched in the lines of her palm and the constellation in her eyes. She is princess of a port kingdom- a people favoured by the sun and raised by the sea. And she lets the sea- worshipped by her people- carry her to a distant land of frigid waters and snowfall, where her betrothed is king. When she sets foot on land, she's greeted by faces paler than hers and a mannerism befitting the heartiness of Northern kingdoms. Already, Hanji misses the white sandy beaches and the heat of the midday sun, but she's to be queen now, and she remembers this when she walks past the heavy doors into the throne room.

She meets him- the knight she hears about in stories, stories that bridged the seas.

Levi was born in the Underground, a street rat, a thief who now commands an army. He kneels in front of Hanji and kisses the back of her hand and swears on his life to protect her. And when he looks up, she’s grinning down at him, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And all he sees are the freckles on the bridge of her nose- the promise of sunshine. And like any creature held for too long in the dark, he learns to seek out the light.

Get up you idiot, don’t make this a habit!

—

She catches him looking. She always does. But they’re young and these stolen glances make up a larger game of push and pull- like the ebb and flow of the waves, when the sea rushes out to meet the land.

The nights are long in her new kingdom. The nights are cold and lonely and long, and her King has a habit of seeking warmth in other places; other bodies.

Levi finds her atop the walls one night, looking up at the stars, and she catches him looking. She always does. She grins at him and he’s thrown off guard, settling for a scowl to distract from the redness spreading to the tips of his ears. But she shifts to create space for him.

Do you want to hear a story?

She says, gentle like calm waters.

So he sits and listens to her talk about the stars in the skies. One story blends into another, and they make this a habit. She paints the world with wonder, vivid strokes across a dull canvass. And Levi watches the stars through the reflection in her eyes.

Levi learns the names of the planets and their moons in her mother tongue.

—

The queen fights her King’s battles. She sails his ships across the seas and flies his flag over foreign lands.

She’s formidable in battle, and her enemies tell tales of her might, and of her mercy.

In the thick of battle, she finds herself looking for him, smile ghosting her lips when she sees him looking at her too.

“Eyes in front of you, four eyes!” He shouts through the thick of death. And she feels brave enough to laugh, “don’t cause too much trouble, Levi.”

They return home victorious, they always do. But the King has an appetite that cannot be satiated. And war chips away at a human soul.

So in the cover of night he slips into her room, and looks at her with an urgency. This is inevitable. He calls out to her, says her name like it’s the only thing good left in this world. All creatures seek out the sun- in their own ways they grow towards light.

This is inevitable. Etched in the palm of her hand as destiny. So she says his name like an epiphany. She lets her robes slip down to her ankles and the waves crash onto shore. Her lover is kind and he’s good in all the ways that Hanji has learnt to recognise. He kisses along her spine, gentle like a drizzle in Spring. She makes him laugh and the sound surprises them both. In these moments, she forgets the rough hand of her King, and she remembers how much she misses dancing in the rain.

Levi looks at her like she’s divine.

She whispers something in his ear like a mantra, in a language he doesn’t understand.

The next time Levi learns to say it back.

They make this a habit.

—

The girl is an Ackerman. She hears her father’s voice in the winds. Focus, my love. Steady on your feet. Do not hesitate.

She lunges with her wooden sword, attacking where Mike is undefended. When she’s older she will exceed him, and even now, she manages to create an opening.

The girl is a Zoë. She hears her mother’s voice in the trees. Think fast, my darling. What are his weaknesses?

She manages to trip him, and when he tumbles over, he sees the glint in her eyes. She’s a feisty one. The girl giggles, falling to the ground to lie beside Mike, and she points out the shapes in the clouds to him.

The girl will have the world at her feet.

—

“It’s yours, I’m sure of it…” Hanji says.

They’re sitting by the lake. Everything is calm, and the cicadas sing like she’s back home where the days are long and the nights go quickly. She has her back against his chest, and his arms have come to snake around her, hands stroking absentmindedly at her growing belly. There’s nobody here. Some days she forgets who she belongs to.

“When the time comes we’ll run away.”

“And leave for the docks?” she breathes. There’s something lurking beyond the horizon, something bigger than the two of them, and the stars are telling her that they will die. The world is in the palm of their King- a man consumed by greed, and theirs is a union cursed from the beginning. But Levi has the strength of a hundred soldiers, so they say, and Hanji has a will that shatters the earth like lightning.

For now, Levi hums a reply and kisses her forehead when she leans back to look at him. The cicadas are still singing their song and when she closes her eyes, it feels like home.

She thinks of her child- their child- and she pictures a mop of raven hair and grey eyes like the sea. And her heart swells. Oh how lucky she has been in this life to have loved a boy as beautiful as he.

Levi knows that any child of Hanji’s will be beautiful. He pictures her nose, and the brightness of her eyes. His eyes widen in awe when he feels a kick against the tautness of Hanji’s skin.

She chuckles, hands coming to intertwine with Levi’s, “she’s a feisty one…”

—

The girl is testament to the waves crashing into shore. To the certainty of sunlight, and the promise of rain.

The neighbour’s boys come round to sneak peeks at her, they leave flowers at the door for the girl with the wild hair and the stars in her eyes. Mike knows Levi would have made quick work of them if he were here.

The girl is born of a boy from the underground who fell in love with the princess of a kingdom across the sea.

And the world is at her feet.

Part III

#thank you anon💖💖💖 #I hope you like! #levihan #Drabble #mine #inbox #anon #Levi x hange #hange Zoë #Levi Ackerman

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (4)

word count: 3k (longest one yet)

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you’ve been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you’re really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is part 4!!! Thank you to hat one Anon that gave me a review on the last chapter :< it really made my heart swell. I hope I’m doing this fic justice because in my head, there are countless of possibilities for this story! If you can, please please please leave me a feedback after reading this chapter. Can you also let me know if you prefer weekend or weekday updates? :> Thank you!!!!

NEXT | PREVIOUS

Yoongi zoomed home to pick up his car. He didn't bother dropping the call, his constant whispers of reassurance ringing through the phone.

"You're going to be alright, I'm coming." He assured. No response was heard on the other line, the only indication that she was still there were soft and steady breathes, enough to make Yoongi weak in the knees. It took everything in him not to floor the gas and attend to her faster. Traffic was almost nonexistent in the wee hours of the night but he wanted to get to her already.

He arrives to his destination and parks. Not bothering to do it properly, at that. He blindly reaches under the pot of plant for a spare key. He entered the apartment, heading straight to her room, only to find her curled up in her bed. Staring into space, not bothering to acknowledge his existence but spoke into the air.

"Took you look enough, Yoongs." Yoongi felt his heart swell at the nickname that left her lips. If there was any confusion as to why he went to the park with you, it was gone now. In his head, there was only one thing sure and one thing only.

It's her.

He took a good look at her, drinking her in. Floods of memories rushing back, making his head spin.

"You know, if you do this more often," he trails off. "You're just proving that you can't really live without me."

The voice has a teasing tone to it but they both knew the gravity it held. She shook her head playfully and motioned for him to come near. He obliged, missing the feeling of her touch. He ran his hand through his hair as he walked near her.

The moment he reached the foot of her bed, she reached out to him. Yoongi lay down, hugging her to his chest. She let her head rest on it, feeling slow and steady heartbeats. She recalls how often she found herself in this position with him. He was her safe place, no one can change that.

"I heard from Mijin that you found a girl to match your stubbornness." she mumbled, tracing circles on Yoongi's arm. He made a sound of denial. Somehow, he didn't think she would have heard of it that quickly, and to be frank, he didn't think she would care.

Yoongi, however, did care. He didn't want her to find out. He huffed as he figured out that it must be her little sister that told her. He started to stroke her hair as he spoke gently.

"Jagi, you know I'd never replace you." He assured.

"It's you and it'll only be you. You know that." She hummed in appreciation and snuggled closer to Yoongi. She knew that. Everything Yoongi was not, she was able to change. Like ice in a hot summer's day, she melted the cold man that is Min Yoongi.

Regardless of how things ended between them, Yoongi feels grateful that she made him come out of his shell. He was no one without her, or so Yoongi thinks.

She feels herself letting go and slowly falling into slumber. Yoongi made sure she's comfortable, hovering the blanket over to her sleeping form and cuddling her closer. He sigh, he shouldn't have went to the theme park. He shouldn't have taken you to get those stupid pink pair of bunny ears. He shouldn't have bought you matching sweaters. An ugly feeling was blooming in his chest, feeling like he cheated on her. He vowed to himself that he would never do it again.

You sure were a breath of fresh air, with your huge glasses and the green cardigan you loved so much. He noticed that you were smart, too. Always carrying a book in hand whenever you have lunch with the trio. Not that he paid attention but he commends how committed you are and dedicated to your studies. No matter how he denies it, you are the type of person who leaves a mark. He's seen it with his two friends, always contacting you for lunch and study groups. Both have seemed to form a liking to you.

He let himself think that if you didn't like him in that way, would you two be friends as well? He did enjoy your time in the park, he didn't even thought of her the whole time. This scared him. He was terrified that with you, he forgets.

He should never, ever forget.

So that whole night, Yoongi tried to convince himself that he regrets spending the day with you. However, there's this voice inside his head countering this. Deep down, he enjoyed himself too. He can still remember the way your eyes sparkled the whole day, beaming at every sight you see. This made him smile to himself.

He shook these thoughts away. He belongs to her. No one, he would let absolutely no one to take his attention away from her. No one deserves him but her.

Deciding to stop overthinking for the night, he snoozed off to dreamland.

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

"Yoongi." a voice awoke him.

"What is your dumbass doing here?" Mijin hissed.

"Where's Eujin?" Yoongi asked, trying to focus his blurry sight. Mijin sighed and sat down on the bed. She liked Yoongi, yes. But every decent human being would be concerned if someone was being used for convenience. That was what her older sister was doing to Yoongi.

"I asked you a question." She repeats. "You were doing so well. Why did you let her wrap her hands around your neck again?"

The statement made Yoongi's blood boil. She wasn't using him. She was under no obligation to reciprocate whatever Yoongi was giving her. The negative image that was painted of her isn't true, Yoongi thought.

"Where is she?" He groggily asked ignoring her question completely. With a defeated sigh, Mijin pointed to their kitchen and exited the room for Yoongi to freshen up.

"Is he awake?"

The voice made Yoongi stop in his tracks to hide behind the wall next to the kitchen. He decided to let the two sisters talk first without intervening.

"Eujin, why did you call him out here? I thought you made it clear to him that you were no longer interested?"

"I know." Eujin sighed. "But since I heard about the girl who asked him out on a date, I got curious." she dragged out.

This made Yoongi's heart leap with joy. His hands reached up to feel his necklace, the ring he gave Eujin as the pendant. He recalled how he lashed out at you when you asked about it. She returned it to him when she called things off. Yoongi has worn it around his neck ever since.

Finally hearing enough, Yoongi stepped in the kitchen, faking a smile. He looked at Eujin, who is eating beside Mijin.

"Nice shirt." Mijin compliments. Yoongi's hand flies up to rub his nape. Due to the urgency to rush there, he didn't bother changing last night. He ignored it and sat on Eujin's other side. The moment he did, she lays her head on his shoulder and looks at his chest. She sighed in relief when she spotted the ring.

It's still her. She still has him.

"Tell me, Yoongs. Is that from your date?" She asks.

Yoongi wanted to deny it. He wanted to say no. Instead, he nodded meekly, his hand holding onto Eujin's.

"It's not a date. I just want the bet to be down and over with." He desperately explained.

"It's okay, Yoongs." She offers a smile. "I don't really mind."

That stings. Yoongi winced internally at how genuine she sounds, hearing that made his heart drop to his stomach. He had hoped that Eujin would at least be concerned with who he was seeing, because he would surely lose his mind if she dated someone else.

That's how much he liked her.

Mijin stood up, tired of the conversation already. She muttered something about leaving early for school and with that stalked to the front door and left.

As soon as the door closed, Yoongi faced Eujin with so much sincerity swimming in his eyes. He looked at her lips, how it beat every ruby in existence with how the red painted them all over. Her nose pointed at the tip but just rounded enough to pass as a button, up to her eyes that light up the whole room. The ones that make Yoongi weak all over.

"What do you want me to do, Jagi? Tell me and I'll do it."

She shook her head. Despite her reassurance, Yoongi didn't believe that she was alright with how he stupidly went on the date. He wished he could turn back time.

"Do you want me to never see her again?" He pleads. "Tell me, Jagi. I'll do anything."

She shook her head but felt water brimming in her eyes. Truth to be told, she was scared. Never once did she feel threatened by anything when it comes to him. She watched him reject every advances made to him, even by her own sister. So when she heard that he agreed to this one specific date, it terrified her.

Yoongi instantly panicked upon seeing her cry. He stood up and hugged her as close as he possibly can. She clutched onto him until it can no longer be identified where one body starts and the other ends. They both knew that it was hopeless, they have tried multiple times to fix what was broken but they both know they would try again.

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

That morning, both of them had class and Yoongi waited for Eujin to gather her things. She was carrying her management book and surveys for her upcoming business plan. She was a Business Administration major like you. Little do you know that it was the reason Yoongi held onto the necklace that day at the park. You and Eujin have so much in common; it couldn’t pass as coincidental to him.

Yoongi and Eujin held hands as he drove to the campus, at every stoplight he looks over her. His eyes turning into crescents as he smiles at everything she says. He was at awe with how good she looks on his passenger's seat. He didn't think he would see her seated on it again. But here she was, in the flesh.

After arriving at the campus, Yoongi had to go to the dorm to change and get ready for classes. She on the other hand is preparing to head to her professor for coaching. Together, they spot Namjoon looking at their intertwined hands.

Namjoon mumbled something to Hoseok who has his back turned on them. He looked over and his eyes trailed at Yoongi and Eujin's hands. He didn't bother hiding the scowl that formed on his face.

Hoseok abruptly stood up to leave, making Namjoon sigh and give Yoongi a disapproving look. They both thought this was over but they were apparently wrong. Yoongi squeezed Eujin's hand in assurance. He doesn't care at this point. It may be them versus the world and he wouldn't give a fuck.

"Jagi, call me after this. Please." Yoongi said, before bidding goodbye. Eujin nodded and headed inside.

Yoongi turned and headed to class where he has to face his two best buds that clearly weren’t impressed by his decisions.

He stopped by a vending machine, buying two sprites. He knew Hoseok couldn't say no to him. He just has to apologise and fix the rift between them.

As he entered the room, Yoongi's eyes searched for Hoseok's bright orange hair. He quickly beeline to them and placed the cans of soda as an apology. He squeezed himself in the middle of the two and mumbled a "sorry" sheepishly. He heard Namjoon open the can and took this as him accepting the apology.

"You made her come home wet and alone. It was freezing outside, Yoongi. I never pegged you to be this much of an asshole." This made Yoongi freeze up. It didn't cross his mind to take you home last night. His head was too clouded to even think about that. All he knew was to get to her immediately.

"Hoba," Yoongi trailed. "You know I never wanted to go in the first place. Why are you getting upset with me?"

"She's I and Namjoon's friend, Yoongi. If you cannot find it in you to be concerned with her, we do. Last time I talked to her, she sounded sick." Namjoon held Hoseok by the shoulder, trying to get him to stop.

"Hoba's just worried Yoongi." Namjoon explained. "Y/N hasn't picked up her phone and didn't go to her classes today."

Yoongi was taken aback by that but didn't show it. He shouldn't be concerned. You were no one to him. If merely being seen with you will make Eujin uncomfortable, he was willing to avoid you like the plague.

"Eujin needed me last night. I couldn't just say no."

Hoseok's eyes darted to Yoongi's necklace; it no longer held the ring. Instead it was now worn on his ring finger, confirming that they had indeed gotten back together.

"Whatever." Hoseok scoffed, not bothering to open the Sprite that Yoongi has gotten for him.

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

You felt like absolute and utter shit. All over.

The moment you opened your eyes, you feel yourself burning as if you're in a furnace. You tried to reach out to your bedside table to get a thermometer and groggily held one to your ear. The moment it beeped, you already know that you are indeed burning with fever.

It must be the weather, you thought. Standing up, you went to the bathroom to get a paracetamol from your medicine cabinet. You fetched yourself a glass of water and gulped it away. You despised taking medicine but you had no choice, it was this or skipping today's lectures. It cannot be the latter since you already missed yesterday's.

Yesterday.

You sigh as you prepare the day. You remember how delicately Yoongi called the person on the other line "Jagi" or how he constantly reassured her that he was coming. To be honest, you didn't even think Yoongi was capable of being comforting and warm but the Yoongi you saw last night was, and sadly, it wasn't for you.

You shook the thought away and attend to your phone, you realised that you haven't responded to Hoseok or Namjoon. You got a call from Hoseok yesterday asking about the date and you told him that you are walking home and would call him after. However due to exhaustion, you fell asleep right after showering.

Glancing at the pink bunny ears at your vanity, you took out the picture from the waterpark and placed it next to it. Yoongi might not care about the date and was seeing another but you didn't care. You'd like to cherish the date as much as you can.

"First and last date." you whispered. "At least it was a good one."

You didn't bother texting Hoseok back, thinking that you'll see them later for lunch. Still feeling a bit under the weather, you went on your usual way to the campus.

You attended class per usual, not bothering to register the information given by the professor. You decided to go home after this, you can feel your fever getting worse and you're getting dizzier by the moment. You stalked to the restroom and went in to wash your face.

The moment the cold water hits your face was a relief. The burning feeling in your face is momentarily gone; you lift your hand up to feel your forehead when a voice spoke beside you.

"Hey, are you okay?" You glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror. You examine her face, she was ethereal. Every angle looks divine and sculpted by the gods. You have to look away because you found yourself staring.

"Yeah, just feeling a bit under the weather." You replied.

"I'm headed to the cafeteria, come with me. Get something to eat before taking a medicine." She offered.

Thinking about how Namjoon and Hoseok might be there, you agreed. Both of you exited the restroom and stalked to the cafeteria.

Students are scattered around making it difficult to spot Hoseok and Namjoon. After a little looking around, you spot them and waved your hand.

Hoseok looked relieved to see you alive and breathing while Namjoon just smiled at your direction. You noticed that Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. You guess he was still with her.

You shook your head. It was none of your business, like he said. All you need to do is focus on your studies and try to make the most out of university with your new friends.

Just before Hoseok and Namjoon reach your table, your new friend's phone began to ring. She stood up and answered it, leaving you alone at the table.

"Y/N," Hoseok breathed. "Are you okay? I thought you were sick." he pouted.

You offered a smile and nodded. Meeting the trio was a blessing. Hoseok was a great friend, same goes for Namjoon.

"Why did you come to school?" Namjoon asked, clearly disapproving that you chose school over health.

"Shush, you guys. I'm alright!" you laugh at Hoseok, still upset at your attendance.

Hoseok was about to speak again when a voice interrupted him.

"Hey, let's get something to eat so you can take your medicine." your new friend, who you've forgotten to take the name of, offered.

Namjoon blinked back in shock calling her name while Hoseok sarcastically smirked on the side.

"Eujin?!"

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NEXT | PREVIOUS

#myg x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #myg x you #yoongi x you #min yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #suga x reader #suga x you

[nxrthmizu]

kAY but I was thinking, what about or needy, clingy bois (bokuto, oikawa and atsumu), finally reuniting with their singer!s/o after she spent awhile away on tour? thank u in advance, I hope you're well and having a great day! Love your writing. 💌💗

»»——⍟——«« 

request | bokuto, oikawa, and atsumu with a singer!reader who has been away on tour 

words | 1.4k 

author’s note | uwuuu this is such a cute idea anon! hope this is satisfactory :3 also I kind of strayed from the topic? lol 

»»——⍟——««

↬ bokuto koutarou 

most of your tours before were only a day or two long at most, because you would only be touring around Japan

it was for this reason that koutarou never realised how lonely it was when you weren’t around :( 

it wasn’t too bad if he had practice, because he’d eventually get distracted by hinata and atsumu 

but that one time it was really bad because 1. your tour was a week long, and 2. since msby black jackals had just finished playing some big matches, they had a few days off 

he moped around for the whole day, called akaashi five(5) times, and pouted when he tried calling you and it didn’t go through 

twitter blew up because he tweeted on his main that he was lonely and wanted someone to accompany him :( 

hinata was spending the day with kageyama; atsumu was back at hyogo; and sakusa just ignored him so he just spent the whole day at home wallowing in loneliness (poor babie <3 ) 

luckily, there was practice the next day, and hinata was able to coax him out of emo mood half an hour into practice 

by the time the week was over, this boy was vibrating with excitement to see you 

if he had a tail, it would be wagging at two hundred crotchet beats per minute 

even with your sunglasses and hat on, he was able to recognise you and I am not joking when I say this man screamed at the sight of you, ran across the airport to pick you up :) 

this man is not going to let you go for the next five hours 

he held your hand the whole drive back home, then insisted on getting into the shower with you, cuddled you while waiting for takeout, made you sit on his lap while the two of you ate, cuddled again while watching a movie... etc. you get the idea 

the next morning when he wakes up with your in his arms he has the biggest smile on his face because he’s been waking up alone for the past week and now that you’re back he’s going to ignore his morning run in favour of staying in bed with you for ten more minutes :3 

↬ oikawa tooru 

he tries not to be clingy because he doesn’t want you to get tired of him but damnnn he misses you so much :( 

and then he proceeds to feel bad because the only thing he can think of is that you must’ve felt this lonely too when he had to fly out of argentina to play international matches 

for every night that you’re gone he has to resist the urge to call you because he knows you’re going to be tired and you need your rest but jskjksjskjs he wants to hear your voice 

if you call him first he’ll try his best to not sound too excited but the truth is,,, this cute baby missed you so much 

‘did you miss me?’ you meant it in a pleasing tone, but you didn’t expect your boyfriend to literally have a mental breakdown on the other side of the line 

he goes to sleep with a smile on his face, because even though he can’t feel your warmth next to him, he can hear your soft breathing through his phone, and that’ll have to be enough for now 

(he also promises himself that the next time he flies out of the country, he’ll make sure to call you every night) 

that isn’t to say he isn’t affected, though 

his teammates notice that his sets are just a slight bit off when you’re not around 

that’s not to say he doesn’t set well, it just isn’t as accurate as it normally is 

the day that you fly back coincidentally clashes with a match, so he makes sure to call you the night before and apologise for not being able to pick you up from the airport 

he’s doing his best to concentrate on the match, but between his phases of strong focus, his brain is filled with thoughts of going home and seeing you, your hair still damp from your shower 

god, he missed you so much 

the game flies past quickly, a quick victory for his team- but the serotonin that the win gives him is nothing compared to the feeling in his heart when he turns and spots you, waving with a smile from the stands, dressed in his former, turquoise-and-white Seijoh jersey (that’s how he always picks you out in a crowd- because you’re always wearing glasses and a hat to avoid anyone recognising you in public)

‘look at him go.’ his teammates nudge each other at the sight of the lovesick-smile that he’s wearing 

you run down to the dressing room, the security personnel recognising you easily and letting you in 

he picks you up, spins you around and kisses you (just because he can and because he wants to show off his strength :)) 

‘god, I missed you so much,’ 

just imagine this man tucking his face in your neck and murmuring that softly <3 I would die for him and this is the proof 

‘you’re so sweaty!’ you laugh but both of you know that you don’t really mind. it doesn’t matter because the love of your life, tooru, is right in front of you and everything else pales in comparison compared to him 

tooru would pamper you so much when you get home, he would hold you in his lap and wait for you to fill him in on everything that happened 

he’s touchy normally but after spending a week away from you, his touches linger for a moment longer and he’s more reluctant about letting you go if you want to get up to get something 

please love him <3 

↬ miya atsumu 

he used to tease you so much when you complained about missing him when he had away games 

but now that he was in your place? he was starting to understand where you were coming from 

you had barely been gone for two days and he was missing your presence already... and he knew he couldn’t call you to hear your voice because you’d probably be getting ready for a performance or catching up on much-needed rest 

he would never admit it but he turned on your laptop to listen to some of your recordings just so he could hear your voice 

sprayed your perfume on the bedsheets just to make it smell it a little bit more like you 

definitely watched a bunch of romance movies in hopes of feeling better but ended up feeling even more lonely instead :( poor bby 

he literally screamed when he got a text from you 

you know that super-high girly screech that some teenagers make? yeah he made that noise, nearly dropped his phone, then proceeded to squeal at your message 

[ hey idiot, how was your day? ] 

the nickname ‘idiot’ isn’t an insult anymore but instead an affectionate title, and he can basically hear your laugh and your voice next to him as he reads the words 

[ hey to you too idiot, my day was ok. urs? :) ] 

it doesn’t show in his texts but he has the biggest smile on his face and the only thing he can think about is you, your pretty eyes and your hair and your skin and basically just... you 

when he finally hears your voice in person again, instead of out of your laptop or from one of your music videos, this man just... stops 

completely freezes because he’s forgotten how beautiful you sound and look and the sight of you, pulling your mask down, standing outside the apartment door just hits him hard 

‘i love you,’ he mumbled into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug 

you pat him on the back a little awkwardly like... what happened in the week you were gone? who is this? that’s not your boyfriend it’s an imposter 

does he wrap you in a bear hug and not let go for the next two hours? absolutely 

‘tsumu... I need to use the toilet.’ 

‘no.’ 

you’re just??? wdym no??? sir I need to use the toilet 

»»——⍟——«« 

send me requests! I feel like writing :3 (ah yes me ignoring the fact I skipped multiple daminette december days plus terushima’s songfic) 

gen. haikyuu!! taglist. @owlywrites @hikari-writes 

»»——⍟——«« 

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! headcanons #Bokuto Koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto headcanons #oikawa fluff #oikawa headcanons #atsumu fluff #atsumu headcanons

[ghostlywritten]

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Five

James Potter x OC

Words: 3,5k

Prologue   Chapter One   Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four

Time flies fast when you have fun. And I had a lot of fun for a week after the party. Despite the harsh weather, despite the essays piling up, despite the training sessions getting tougher it was all worth it in the end when I was left alone in the Common Room with James, chatting about everything and anything. Occasionally even Sirius, Remus and Peter would join us if they weren't in the mood to go to sleep yet and we would play Chess or Exploding Snap.

Of course I knew I would never be part of their unique friendship quartet but I was glad they would let me join in on their fun from time to time. Though I suspected they mainly missed James and didn't want to abstain from him too much.

One particular evening left me alone with Sirius and a few empty bottles of Firewhiskey after Remus and Peter decided to head to bed early and James insisted on retrieving some midnight snacks, sneaking off with a Disillusionment Charm. How he had managed that spell when we hadn't learned it in class was beyond me. Anyways, this got to be the first time I had ever been in the lonely presence of the school's heartthrob with no one and nothing in the near vicinity to distract him from me.

I swallowed nervously whilst the dark-haired boy seemed pretty relaxed, his posture slouched in his armchair.

"You know, I do wonder sometimes how things come together," Sirius' voice cut into the silence and I looked up from my fiddling fingers in my lap to see him pensively watch the flames flicker around in the fireplace, the light giving his features a warm glow.

"In what way?" I asked quietly, not wanting to somehow interrupt his peaceful posture.

"I mean, the way things have turned out in the end," he said, waving his hand to gesture around us, "Everything that brought us to the point of sitting here in the Common Room of the Gryffindors in the middle of the night. I got the best friends I had ever imagined I would get. Ever." I smiled at this. "I'm a Gryffindor, which is the least likely house a Black would get in. I ran away from home and am living with my best friend the life and with the family I've always dreamt of." Now this wasn't exclusive news. Everyone knew about Sirius' escape from the Black House last summer and that he was staying at the Potter's. I was sure a lot of people had their opinions on it but were clever enough to not voice them out, at least not with any Marauder nearby.

I was a little surprised however that he opened up about it when he had refused to say anything on the matter for the past months. One glance at the empty bottles on the table gave me the answer though. 'Everyone gets a loose tongue after a few drinks. Good thing I don't drink...much.'

"I'm glad you are out of there," I said sincerely, recalling the one time I had been pushed into the boy's locker room by my fellow female, giggling team members and had caught a glimpse of the many bruises on his back. I didn't know why but I immediately had a hunch that those hadn't only been from Quidditch. They had looked too nasty. My attempts to talk about child abuse with him were instantly cut off by the boy himself, the cold glare still giving me chills even in mere memory.

"Me too," Sirius sighed blissfully, "The Potter's are truly the best."

"Now all that is missing is the future Mrs. Black," I teased.

He wiggled his eyebrows, "I have encountered a lot of worthy candidates so far. Wanna be next?"

"Thanks, but I'd rather not catch anything," I replied, wiggling my eyebrows back at him. He gave me a mock affronted look before he smirked devilishly, my breath catching involuntarily at the handsome enhancement of his features, "Don't worry, I wouldn't ever date the future Mrs. Potter."

I almost choked on my spit, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, you heard me just right," he barked out a laugh at my red face, "And you can't tell me there is nothing going between you two."

"Ehm, I can because there is nothing going on between us," I retaliated, forcing down the blush from my cheeks.

"You don't have to hide it from me," Sirius said with a shrug, his shit-eating grin still ever so present on his face and I grimaced at him, "I don't blame you. And the Potter's are the best family you can meet."

"Sounds like heaven," I replied deadpanned and he nodded his head with wide eyes and a straight grin before he reached for his forgotten half-empty glass of Firewhiskey. Sobering up slightly, I pondered on my next words before voicing them out carefully, "Don't you miss your actual family though?"

"Hm?" Sirius hummed but I knew he had heard me clearly, stalling as he took a long sip of his drink.

"You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," I added hastily when I noticed how his features hardened, "I'm just a curious cat, wondering if I could ever leave my family like that."

"Do they abuse you mentally and physically every hour of the day?"

"Ehm...no."

"Then you don't have to wonder about it," Sirius said darkly, "You can consider yourself one of the luckiest people on earth." I kept quiet, watching him close his eyes and breathe in deeply through his nose. 'Maybe I should have just kept quiet like always,' I thought, mentally kicking my tactless ass.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," I apologised softly, looking down at my lap awkwardly. Hearing him sigh made me peek at him through my lashes, "It's okay, Cec." I beamed in relief at the nickname. "My family is just a touchy subject."

"I get it, you don't want anything to do with them," I agreed quickly, trying not to agitate him further.

"It's not that I don't want to...," he sighed for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "I just can't deal with them anymore. And Reg..."

"Regulus Black? Your brother, right?" I asked, having heard that name before. Apparently, he took after his brother, being the heartthrob of his year and part of the Slytherin Quidditch team albeit a Seeker.

"Yeah, my little brother," the dark-haired boy said, a smile unconsciously lifting the corner of his lips before they dropped into a bitter frown, "Of course, he is just as brainwashed as the rest of them, all thanks to our dear mother," he almost spat the last word and I winced at the hatred in his tone. At this point, it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, barely realising the other presence in his proximity. "I wish he would have just come with me," he mumbled, a vulnerable look on his face.

"You could still try to be close to him," I offered a weak suggestion, which he immediately dismissed with a scoff/hiccup. "Yeah, right. As if he would listen to me after I ran away. He won't even look my way anymore."

"But-"

"Don't think I haven't tried. He even said we weren't brothers right when I left." I frowned at the crack in his voice, my heart squeezing slightly at the pain in his eyes. Who would have known how much he suffered under all that loud and playful facade of his.

"Maybe he was just mad that you were leaving him behind," I pondered softly, racking my brain about how to make him feel better, "Sometimes we say things in the heat of the moment that we don't really mean." Sirius kept quiet, pensively watching the flames as he refused to make eye contact. I looked away from him, figuring he wouldn't like eyes on him at his vulnerable state, "I think, you two could still be close despite all the differences."

"...You really think so?"

"Yeah, one of you just has to make the first move."

"How do I know he won't reject me?" he asked like a small child, the armchair he sat on suddenly looking too big for him.

I thought it over. The possibility of rejection was definitely there, I wouldn't lie to him about it. After all I knew nothing about his brother's personality. "You don't," I responded, "But the world is full of lonely people waiting for the other to make the first move. And so many bonds get lost because of it. Don't you think that's sad?" His grey eyes snapped over to mine for the first time we had started this serious talk, surprise flickering through them before they were set into something akin to determination.

Before he could open his mouth to say anything though, James came bustling through the portrait hole, his arms packed with various snacks as he giggled like a fool. "Dig in, guys!" he cheered, dropping everything on the coffee table and just like that the serious mood was broken.

I watched Sirius pick up some cookies, munching on them as he chatted up a storm with James about the upcoming Quidditch match. By now, I knew it had been mostly the alcohol that made him spill everything. I just hoped he wouldn't feel too awkward about it the next morning.

The game against Slytherin had packed a punch. The Hufflepuffs' Bludgers were nothing against their aggressive tactics.

Let's just say no player got out there unscathed and the Snitch got caught by Regulus Black - the Slytherin Seeker - just before Angie managed to get a goal that would have gotten us a win if it had only been a few seconds earlier.

I rubbed my sore side where a Bludger had hit me at the beginning of the game as we went inside the locker room, the Slytherins celebrating on the field and laughing at our backs.

"Worst game ever," Frank, who was trudging next to me, muttered and I nodded wordlessly, my eyes watching the stiff back of our Captain as he led us into the little hut.

"This game was pathetic!" James hissed as soon as the door closed to our locker room, "Nothing worked the way we have practiced. Sirius, Frank where the hell were you two when they rained the Bludgers down the Chasers?"

"I-" Sirius started but James continued, still heated, "Oliver? You're the Keeper, right? You are supposed to keep the Quaffles out of the hoops and not hit them through!"

"I didn'-"

"And Angie? Were you even on the field? I couldn't bloody see you once near the opposite hoops."

"James, I was trying everything," Angie protested next to me, "The Slytherin Chasers w-"

"Don't even try any excuses on me," James spat agitated, "I know you want to quit after break but the way you play makes me think you want me to kick you out right now."

"James," I spoke up astonished as Angie sat back with a pissed off look. I knew he could get angry from past experiences during matches but that was straight out rude. "Calm down, we all tried our best."

"Tried your best?" the boy hissed, and I resisted the urge to tell him he sounded like a snake. No, that would probably make him madder, "If that's your best you can say bye-bye to your dreams of becoming a professional Chaser, Cecily. Not even the Montrose Magpies would want you!"

My eyes widened in surprise, his words cutting a knife through my chest.

"James," Sirius started this time, his gaze actually serious for once as I deflated into my seat, feeling more hurt than I had expected, "It's enough now."

The Captain sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself. "Fine. Get dressed, we will talk about this at practice next week. Whoever needs to go to the Hospital Wing, stay back. We will go together."

I jumped out of my seat as soon as he dismissed us, rushing towards the girls' room to take a shower and change, his words repeating in my head like a mantra.

"Don't take him seriously," Angie soothed, interrupting the silence around us, "He always gets pissy when we lose a game."

"I know," I said with a sigh, wincing when I touched my side. Angie grimaced at the already bruising spot, "You should get that checked by Madam Pomfrey."

Nodding in agreement, we walked out together.

"Don't you wanna wait for the others?" Angie asked as I kept walking. "No, let's just go," I said over my shoulder, forcing her to concede when I didn't stop.

"Ms. Grant," Poppy greeted me, "It's been a while. I hope you realise, neither the sweets nor Mr. Potter have changed my mind, no matter how persuasive the Pixie Puffs can be."

"It's not that," I replied, shaking my head at Angie when she gave me a questioning look, "I just need to get my side checked."

"Ah, the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor has been today, right?" Poppy remarked, frowning at the sight of my bruise when I lifted my shirt, "Honestly, this game should be banished from school. It always gets way out of control."

"Still nothing that you can't fix," I replied, watching her shuffle through her cupboards after setting me down on one of the beds.

"What was that about Pixie Puffs and Potter?" Angie asked as we waited.

"Just me unsuccessfully trying to get an internship here at the Hospital Wing," I explained quietly as the doors of the Wing opened once more to reveal the other players trudging inside, pushing aside the few Slytherin players that tried to walk in as well. Luckily, they were in too much of a good mood to stir up a fight like they usually would, instead opting to just verbally make fun of the boys in the background.

"Didn't I tell you to wait?" James asked annoyed as he sat down on the unoccupied bed next to us.

"Yes, and I didn't," I snapped back, pissed off at both him and the pain in my side. James opened his mouth, but Sirius clasped his hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Shooting the grey-eyed boy a grateful look I turned around as Poppy came back, gesturing for me to lift my shirt. I obeyed, hissing as she applied some balm on the bruise but sighing immediately in relief as the pain diminished into a dull ache. "Apply this once more tonight and it should all be well by tomorrow," the matron instructed as she handed me the tube and I thanked her with a quick smile before I hopped off to leave. Bidding the others goodbye, I ignored James' lingering look, particularly at my bruised side, and left to have a quick dinner and head to bed.

This day had been exhausting enough.

The following days were miserable to say the least. The Slytherins were still gloating about their win, classes were hell as nothing went into my brain and on top of that I wasn't on speaking terms with James and therefore, the rest of the Marauders as well.

It wasn't like I didn't want to, but his words had left a sting more painful than the bruise on my side; Bringing up my deepest desire and throwing it back in my face was a big no-go. I almost regretted opening up to him like that and the more days passed with him not talking to me the more I wished I hadn't ever walked up to the Quidditch pitch for that game with a little extra-confident swagger in my steps.

I also wished I didn't have to attend the regular Quidditch practices; James was more commanding than usual, which led us to double laps and longer simulated games until it was pitch black outside. The only bright side was that at least Sirius tried to cheer us all up and even occasionally chatted with me in-between breaks.

"I think something is wrong with Peanut," I mused, adjusting my grip.

"Something is wrong with what?" Sirius asked perplexed.

"Peanut," I repeated, gesturing towards my broom. The dark-haired boy stared at me. "You...named your broomstick Peanut?" he asked slowly, uncomprehending.

"Yeah, why?"

"Just- no matter," he dismissed quickly, his lips twitching in amusement, "Why don't you tell James that something is wrong with Peanut? He can fix it."

Raising a brow, I stated, "First of, Peanut is a splendid name for a broomstick." I rolled my eyes as he burst out into small barks of laughter. "Secondly, I'm not on speaking terms with our dear Captain right now and you know that."

"Yes, I do." It was his turn to roll his eyes. "And I still think it's ridiculous."

"It's not! He mocked me!" I protested.

"Yeah, but weren't you the one, who told me that people say things they don't mean in the heat of the moment?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I don't appreciate you using my words against me!"

Sirius grinned before he turned sirius again, "He was angry, and I can safely say that he did not mean a single thing he's said back then."

"And why isn't he talking to me then? He hasn't even apologised!"

"Because he is also proud ass. Or rather, he doesn't know how to approach you," Sirius snickered and my eyes widened in surprise.

"He doesn't know how to approach me?"

"Yeah, he thinks you are angry at him-" "Which I am!" "-and he is still trying to figure out how to apologise." I stayed quiet, watching the subject of our conversation fly around the field, giving instructions to each player. "If you let it up to him, I would say he will work up his courage by the end of the year. At the earliest."

Later that evening, I decided to stay up after dinner. The others went to bed quickly whilst I sat on my bed with my broom on my lap, contemplating whether I should go down or not. I didn't even know if James still waited at the fireplace as I hadn't been there the past few days but figured it couldn't hurt to try.

Putting my robe over the sleeping clothes, I softly padded outside, carefully taking a peek around the corner into the Common Room after walking down the hallway. The space was empty except for one lonely person lounging on the loveseat in front of the warm fire, the sight achingly familiar.

Swallowing nervously, I gripped my broomstick tighter as I headed down the stairs with purposefully loud steps (as far as possible with socks on). His glass-rimmed eyes snapped over, widening, and he immediately sat up when I approached him.

"Hey James," I greeted him awkwardly, holding my broom in front of me with both hands, almost as a form of protection.

"Hey Cec," he breathed out as if in relief, his eyes rapidly flickering from me to the broom and back to me.

"Um-"

"Come sit," he offered quickly, patting the seat next to him and I obliged, relaxing and simultaneously feeling nervous at the proximity, "Why do you have Peanut with you?"

"Oh, right. Ehm, I think something is wrong with it," I explained, handing it over at his request, "It's not turning as smoothly as it used to."

"Hm, 'might have gotten tweaked during the last game," James mused, brows furrowed in concentration as he examined every inch, "It got hit by a lot of Bludgers, didn't it? Bloody Slytherins. But nothing I can't fix."

"Yeah, I figured that was the cause," I nodded in agreement and his eyes flickered over to me, the fire giving his irises a honey-coloured tone. "What about you?" he asked softly, "Is your side doing better?"

"Perfectly healed, thanks," I informed him, melting slightly on the inside at his concern, "You know Poppy." He cracked a grin at the nickname (causing my heart to miss a beat) before looking back down at the broom, his gaze turning serious.

"Cecily, I...wanted to- you know- I kind of said some messed up things after the game," he stammered slightly, fiddling with the broomstick nervously. My features relaxed at his nervous state and I allowed a small smile as he continued, "I really shouldn't have said what I said- you know the thing with the Montrose Magpies and you- and everything else I said to the others, I didn't mean any of it and I will never do it again, I solemnly swear! I guess, what I'm trying to say- and what I've been trying to say the past few days, but I didn't know how- well first, I figured I should probably give you some space since I never do that with Evans and she always gets madder and madder, but-"

"James," I cut him off and he immediately shut his mouth, "It's alright."

His brown eyes widened, "Really?"

"Yeah, I get it. It's okay."

"You are not mad anymore?" he asked tentatively, staring incredulously as I shook my head, "It's that easy?"

"Well, it can be," I replied with a grin before sighing, "I just don't wanna be mad anymore." And I missed his presence. But hush.

James also sighed, in relief as he leaned back. "Good, I don't think I could have waited any longer."

"Waited? For what?"

"Asking you out, of course."

This time, I really choked on my spit.

Chapter Six

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