#the proper name of the bath time fic is ''here as the caves of my memory'' which is also something of a banger title

[stellerssong]

5 and 29 please?

5—what’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

having given the matter a great deal of thought, i’ve come to the conclusion that i have no interest in writing a corinthian/lucienne femdom hatesex on the beach fic, on the grounds that i’m personally not compelled by the fantasy it presents. apologies to everyone who read the middle section of that sentence and immediately went AWOOGA AWOOGA BARK BARK BARK BARK AWOOOOO like a cartoon character. i know you are out there and i heard you do it.

the real bummer of this whole affair, though, is the fact that “beg me to spare thee the back of my hand” would have been a kickass title. free to a good home, friends!

29—share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.

i don’t work in drafts, so everything that’s been cut from existing fics has been sent to hell already. but what i CAN offer you is this (probably obnoxiously long) snippet from a portion of wereverse that i will probably never actually post about, lovingly nicknamed, “the bath time fic”:

The tub isn’t quite wide enough for them to sit side-by-side, and he moves toward the tap a little so Lucienne can lower herself into the water, angles himself so his cheek is to her, rather than his back. A dark glitter as his gaze flicks over her body. She knows it’s ridiculous to have an attack of modesty right now, but she brings her arms up to cover her breasts. “There,” she says, too cheerful even for her own ears. “Does that help?” Dream makes a small noise in his throat. Maybe assent. Hard to tell. But he does reach out with one hand and rest his knuckles gently against Lucienne’s knee. You can tell he’s getting keyed when he starts grabbing and clinging and clawing at you. Light touches are a good sign. They mean he’s present enough to be careful. (Well. They mean something’s present enough, says a voice in her head that sounds a lot like Cori. She ignores that, as best she can.) “Is the water warm enough?” A nod. Better and better. “Do you need me to soap you, or…?” Silence for a moment. Dream’s throat works, like there’s a reply stuck in there trying to get out, but in the end he just unfolds one slim arm and picks up the bar of soap himself. “All right. Well…” Lucienne settles herself a little uncomfortably against the back of the tub. “Just—let me know. If you need anything.” His white lashes go up like a pair of dove’s wings. Luminous dark underneath, whites visible only at the corners. A creature’s eyes, an animal’s eyes, for all that he’s being so good about holding onto his human shape. That’s going to be…difficult to explain to people not in the know about his condition, at some point, but Lucienne’s not thinking about that yet, she’s just thinking about immediate concerns, practicalities— He shifts position slightly so the tips of his toes are resting against hers. A faint line works its way in between his brows. He still doesn’t speak, but that expression is plain as black ink on white paper: is this okay? Lucienne has to smile at that. Her face aches, like she’s lost the muscle memory sometime in the past however-many weeks. Footsie. Aren’t the two of them fucking adorable.

#chatter #ask games #the proper name of the bath time fic is ''here as the caves of my memory'' which is also something of a banger title #but whatever whatever! it's never getting posted. lucienne and dream take a bath together and lucienne is extremely sad #about the confusingness of loss when the person you lost is still alive in a way but is being grimly Practical about it #and dream has severe neurological trauma from being resurrected. also he's a werewolf still. and a beautiful magic boy. #and autistic. and et cetera #wereverse truly the ''dream racks up as many character modifiers as humanly or werewolfenly possible'' au

[capricornus-rex]

Hey it’s me again, your biggest fan🤪 Hope that you’re doing well! Can I request an imagine with Cal Kestis where he takes care of a jedi!reader like being domestic and stuff? I’m sorry this isn’t really precise, tell me if you want more details or if you don’t want to write this, it’s okay! As always, love your writing, thank you🥰💖

Hi there~! Even if I’ve already messaged you about this a few days ago but thank you so much for being patient for the fic! I hope I was able to capture the domestic fluff in this story 🤗🥰 Sending lots of love, I hope you’re staying safe and doing well at your home! 💖

“Day Off” | Cal Kestis x Reader

Tags: Domestic! Cal Kestis

Masterlist

It was nearly 0700 in the morning. Cal had gotten up from bed while you were still sleeping, and he made himself busy at the galley as soon as he put his shirt on.

“Kid, what are you doing up so early?” Greez groaned when he walked in rubbing his eye.

Cal brought a finger to his own lips, “I’m just making breakfast.”

Greez looked around, he saw that you weren’t awake yet, and he immediately got the idea that Cal was going with. He let the boy do whatever he was doing in the kitchen and then walked away.

Cal exactly knew your favorite breakfast: space waffles drizzled with honey with berries filling half of the plate. The decadent smell wafted around the ship—when it reached the bedroom, your nostrils flared and your eyes shot up. You bring yourself out of bed, to the bathroom first to get washed up, and then followed the smell while rubbing your eyes until you arrived at the kitchen.

Eyes still droopy, you leaned your entire body over the broad of Cal’s back, slipping your arms around his waist as he continued to prepare food.

“That smells so good…” you moaned.

“Well, good morning, sunshine!”

He paused from his edible handiwork, twirled around and cupped your face. He squishes and wriggles your cheek and then smothered you with kisses. Cal lifted you up slightly above the ground and settled you down on a chair then quickly resumed his work. Even with his back turned, you continued to stare at the little shifts of his shoulder, his head slightly bobbing left and right, and the occasional pivots of his elbows. They were little things—though they still made you smile.

He carried a pair of dishes to the table—one for each of you.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah, I thought of whipping something you’d like,”

He places the plate in front of you.

“Just the way you like it!” he beamed.

The honey and the waffle melted perfectly in your mouth, you pop a berry into your mouth and the juice mixed in with the honey. It was the perfect amount of sugar for you to get through the morning.

The stillness of the forest was disturbed by the rustling of the leaves and grass.

After the liberation of the Wookiees under the effort of Saw Gerrera’s partisans, there is now peace and everyone can rest easy. Meanwhile, you and Cal have made a training course in the forest just past the AT-AT wreckage at the landing pad.

The original fifteen-minute-long trek from the landing pad to the course became eight minutes; thanks to the discreet arrows were carved on the tree trunks, and shards of the bright red pauldrons stripped off of Stormtrooper commanders hung on the branches that served as waypoints.

This portion of the forest was something that both of you discovered in the middle of scouting duty. The two of you mapped it out like some kind of obstacle course; Cal even managed to reprogram a probe droid to behave like a remote training droid—exactly like the ones younglings train with at the Jedi Temple.

“We should think of a name for the probe droid,” Cal suggested while crawling his way uphill on a slope. “It’s kinda inconvenient and a mouthful to keep calling it ‘the probe droid.’ What name do you think we should give it?”

“Normally, we’d make a name out of its serial number,”

Cal concurred with the idea. When you’ve reached your destination, he produced the black droid out of the chest where it’s kept and examined it, searching for its serial number. You walked up to him and dusted off the earth caked on its body, revealing the gradually-chipped white font painted on the black metal.

“There it is,” you tap it with your finger. “RZE-4… We could call it Raze!”

Cal echoed the serial number and then the name you suggested. He openly tells you that he likes it and went with it. BD-1 chirped—his tone sent mixed signals. The pair interpreted it as nervousness mixed with a tinge of jealousy.

“Aw, BD’s worried we might have had him replaced,” you cooed, patting him softly on the head.

“Don’t worry, BD, you’ll always be our only buddy!” Cal added.

A few more affirming words later, BD-1’s confidence in the two of you easily returned. Cal switched on the newly-named probe droid, Raze, and the little red dot shone in its dome-shaped eye. It hovered off of Cal’s hands, beeping and spinning its head to scan its surroundings; when it heard BD’s trill, its abrupt turn of the head startled the little, white droid who immediately hid behind Cal’s shoulder.

“He’s just saying hello to you!” an amused Cal chuckled.

“You won’t hurt little BD here, will you, Raze?”

The black, hovering droid chittered its signature string of sounds in response; BD-1, having understood the other droid, chirped back positively. The two were fast friends.

“Okay, that turned out quicker than I expected!” Cal commented.

Cal configured the droid’s blaster damage to non-lethal and the training commenced: beginning with basic sparring, experimenting all kinds of saber combinations and attack patterns. The scenario immediately shifted and then became a situation facing off a melee enemy accompanied by a ranged assist—Cal tried to overwhelm you, pretending to be an electrostaff Purge Trooper while Raze shoots projectiles at you, careful not to bank it to the droid you sent it flying to a hanging armor plate.

“Raze, standby mode!” Cal commanded then turned to you. “See if you can keep up!”

You and Cal raced through the course, stopping along the way to throw some strikes here and there—the tricky part of the course was walking through a fallen log and fighting at the same time. Cal had already retracted his lightsaber once you got across.

“Cal, hey wait! Where are you going?”

“Just follow me!”

Excitement pumped your heart in every step of the way. You’ve gotten ahead of Cal, you’d look back every once in a while to see if Cal was running close—he was. He glimpsed at the smile and the youthful rush that painted the expression on your face.

He’s up to something. You wagered, but kept going.

Your speed came to a halt, standing in front a curtain of vines; you shot him a quizzical look which he returned with a smug.

“What’s in there?”

“You’ll see,” he said before going through.

You have no other choice but to follow. You found yourselves in a cave, the strings of light hanging from the ceiling mesmerized you, and there were more on the ground. The sound of groaning metal drew your attention away from the luminescence—Cal had hauled out two large metal plates, enough for either of you to sit on.

“What are you planning with those?”

“Just sit down,” he patted the unoccupied metal sheet.

You sat right in front of him, your knees buckled and wrapped around your arms as you held onto the rim of the metal. Your breath was shaky and you struggled to keep a tight grip on your improvised sled.

“Ready?”

You shake your head, “No!”

Cal gave a tiny push on your back and it felt as if you were flying; the damp air blew through your hair as you sped away, shifting your weight ever so slightly to make the turns, you can’t help but burst in laughter and just started whooping.

“We’re almost to the end! Put your heels on the ground to slow down!”

Mud caked on your soles as the heels of your boots scrape against the soil. The end of the slide threw both of you to a puddle riddled with glowing blue lights. You didn’t mind the muck that clung onto your clothes, you just let it all out through laughing and childishly flailing around to shake off the tension.

“WOW THAT WAS FUN!” you suddenly sat up, your hair flung droplets of water all over the place. “Since when have you found out about this place, anyway?”

“When we were on scouting duty, just before we made our course,”

“You’re really full of surprises,” you splashed the bioluminescent water to his direction, in turn, he did the same until you’re both covered in glowing blue muck. You scoop up some in your hand and upon closer inspection, you assumed it to be some kind of algae. “I hope you know the way to a waterfall or a stream because this thing’s sludgy!”

There was a river not far from where you were. The faint sound of a waterfall crashing proved it. The bioluminescent algae in the puddle gradually had a paste-like consistency when it dried as you walked. By the time you found the water hole, without hesitation, you dove into the water then the matter dissolved off of your bodies and into the current.

“For a moment there, I thought my clothes got heavy!” you blurted.

“Yeah, Kashyyyk sure has weird plants,” Cal added.

First, you washed off the residues of the blue algae that stuck in the creases of your clothes. Eventually, both of you have stripped off your jackets and shoes, leaving them lying flat on some rocks by the shore of the river to dry. After rinsing yourselves, the two of you rushed back to the base to get an actual, proper bath.

There was a bunker near the refinery, fortunately, you had the baths all to yourselves. The water temperature was perfect and the tub was more than enough to fit both of you; he took you to his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist underwater while you scooped and then poured water on his head. Droplets lined up in rows along his jaw then plopped down, he studied the contours of your face riddled with beads of water, his eyes trailed on every inch of your face and he’d absentmindedly smile to himself as you wash him.

Your fingers gently scrubbed his scalp until a puff of suds partially covered his red hair; soft, relaxed sighs escaped his lips as you combed his hair in wet, clumped spikes. He closed his eyes for a few minutes that you thought he’d dozed off.

“You still awake?”

“Yep…”

You slightly angled your head to the side but continued on. A few minutes later, he started to shift in his position.

“Your turn,” he purred as he smiled.

He turned you around so you face away from him. He smoothed your hair and smuggled a kiss on the crook of your neck. He mimicked the way you washed his hair: fingers crawling upward starting from the bottom of your scalp until foam started to froth between your locks—he was so gentle that your neck slowly tilted back, your nerves tingled as he rubbed—then he cupped up a handful of water, rinsed the clouds of suds off of your hair.

He continued to stroke your head with the palm of his hand, smoothing out your hair while repeatedly cupping and pouring water on you.

“This feels nice,” you finally hummed.

“Should we get dirty more often then?” he half-joked.

“No need, let’s just do this more often!”

One last rinse before you go and it’s back to the Mantis. The sensation of his fingers still ran fresh through your skin, even if it has been an hour since your bath. You yawned and rubbed your eyes.

“Aww, my little baby’s tired,”

“I guess I am…”

Cal carried you bridal-style and retired to the bedroom inside the ship. When he settled you down in bed, you stretched out your arms to him, demanding that he lies with you. He cuddled you in while pulling the blanket over the both of you; stroking your hair, caressing your cheeks with the back of his hand, and kissed you one last time before he too drifted off to sleep.

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #domestic! cal kestis #domestic! cal kestis fic #star wars #star wars fic #sw #sw fic #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #swjfo #sw jfo #swjfo fic #sw jfo fic #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fic #jfo #jfo fic #fic #oneshot #oneshot fic #fic request #ask box fic #tumblr ask box fic #requested by #requested #requested by peterwandaparker #fluff

[starblazerm31]

Arcana Fic Masterlist

Here’s the masterlist for the fics I’ve written and requested.  The fics with my characters are mostly for me, but I like it when folks read my stuff.  I will update as I write more.

🔥 = spicy (maybe not NSFW, but definitely suggestive)

My Fics

Between The Two Of Us

Asra and Julian discuss Asra’s past with MC

Challenge Fic

A battle between my apprentice Azalea and her mentor Imalia (this fic is old, so Mal’s old name of Lina is still in use here)

Tap Out 🔥

Azalea and Lucio play Hide and Seek in the woods

Happy Anniversary 🔥

It’s Azalea and Lucio’s anniversary, and he’s got plans for tonight.

Rowdy Inspiration

Hector is trying to write a song.  No better place to do so than the Rowdy Raven, right?  (Hector belongs to @coloursagainstthewall)

All Of You

A new pool has been built at the palace and apprentice Marín has been given a new bathing suit. (Marín belongs to @marinmuffins)

Quickly (NSFW)🔥

Julian and Elizabeth steal an intimate moment in the library. (Elizabeth belongs to @accelcchi)

A Good Time and Place (NSFW)  🔥

After risking a night out together, Azalea and Julian end up back at the shop.  They completely forget about their tea.

Accidental Kiss

From this writing prompt post. (Always up to write more of these!)  Asra pays MC a visit at the shop and something unexpected happens.

French Kiss   🔥

From this writing prompt post.  Devil Lucio makes MC a very tempting offer.

The Last Secret (NSFW)  🔥

Imalia and Asra get caught in a cave by a foul monstrous creature. Imalia must reveal her final secret to her love in order to save his life.

Sonata of Whoa

Modern AU.  Hector’s band is performing at the Rowdy Raven.  Julian is not prepared for the performance.

Fics I Requested

Proper Vesuvian Welcome by @edge-lord-trash (fic name given by me, not sure what they would have named it)

Lucio and MC prepare to fend off invaders

Hangover by @the-arcana-randomness

So Asra and Julian got drunk one night...

Luciman by @the-arcana-randomness

Lucio will build the GREATEST. SNOWMAN. EVER!!!!

Ko-Fi ☕

#masterlist #the arcana fanfic #starblazerm31 fics #mine #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana nadia #the arcana portia #the arcana muriel #the arcana lucio #the arcana mc #the arcana apprentice #the arcana oc

[izzy-b-hands]

Tether of Yearning

First question: Will I ever stop just naming these fics randomly after songs I hear while writing? Idk maybe maybe not, but this one is named after the song of the same title by a group called Caspian.

A shortish sequel to this fic: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/188598602091/chaos-of-the-sun

because this is an AU now??? Idk what happened exactly but here we are with some more sweetness with Papi and Louis. Charlie and Rami owe me for all the dang chemistry they probably accidentally gave these characters but like...now I’m stuck with an intense need to write fix it fic where they act on it and things go well for them. 

The cave wasn’t much, but it could be made into a home, he had discovered. 

They’d both taken to using the stain of berry juice to decorate the walls with drawings as well as notes on what to do next. 

Namely, names.

“We can’t go back and use our old names. We probably shouldn’t go back to Paris at all, honestly,” Louis said one night over their meal of fish and berries, both roasted over a fire. 

“What shall I call you then?” he asked. “Have you thought about it?” 

Louis shrugged. “I like my name, so I’ve not thought of what else I might be called.” 

“Elouan.” 

Louis cocked his head. “Elouan?” 

“Means light. I can carry you, and you’re the light of my life that I never knew I was looking for because I thought I could see so well in the dark. Dual meanings,” he replied.

Louis blushed, but smiled. “Very well. It doesn’t sound so far off from Louis anyway. But what about you?” 

“You could still call me Papillon.” 

“When we’re alone, or after we’ve settled somewhere and can determine it’s safe to use our previous names, sure,” Louis said. “But what about in public?” 

“I don’t know. Something good.” 

“Valentin,” Louis said. “I’ve always thought that was a nice name. Wouldn’t fit me, but you...” 

“Valentin it is then,” he said. “Mark it down, or we’ll not remember by tomorrow. I’m exhausted.” 

“The fish were vicious and wily today then,” Louis smirked as he turned to a blank spot on the wall of the cave nearest him, and dipped a finger into the berries on the leaf he was using as a plate to use as ink. “There. We won’t forget now. Could start using them now, I suppose.” 

“We’re still a bit away from going anywhere else yet,” Papi admitted. Only within the last night had the contents of a ship wreck, from who knew how far away, happened to wash up on the shore where they were camped. 

There wasn’t much that survived, but the clothes from one suitcase had. There was a new pair of trousers for each of them that fit not horribly, and a new shirt and jacket each as well. It was a boon that he hadn’t thought they’d get, if he was honest with himself. But it would make traveling and integrating with a new place that much easier, if they at least weren’t dressed in prison garb.

“True. The clothes need to dry out, and we need to clean ourselves up, somehow,” Louis sighed. 

“You need a haircut,” Papi teased, pointing at the curls that had grown rampantly in their short time on the beach, now nearly to Louis’ ears.

“No more than you do,” Louis protested.

“You just like when I pull at those curls, so you don’t want to give them up.” 

“Well, you like pulling them as much as I like them being pulled, so do you really want to cut them down?” Louis smirked, his nose wrinkled in a way that could only be described as adorable.

“No. But we can’t look like escaped prisoners. At least let me clean it up, a bit. I won’t cut it all away, I promise. I never would.” 

They had exactly one knife that they had found in the sand (from a ship wreck, some other survivor of an escape? They couldn’t know) while wandering up and down the beach in search of food and other useful things, and while it wasn’t really sharp enough for cutting hair, it could do the job in a pinch. 

Still, he tried not to let it tug too much as Louis sat in front of him, finishing his meal while Papi worked at the curls. They were about as clean as they could manage, rinsing off daily in the ocean, but it wasn’t perfect, and it made Louis’ hair a particular chore.

Yet he relished it, for the time he could spend then threading his fingers through them, until Louis had leaned his head back not unlike a cat being pet, his eyes closed, content as he was under Papi’s touch. 

“There. You look presentable now.” 

“Yes, the hair was the only problem. The torn and worn prison clothing has never posed a challenge,” Louis smiled. “In fact, why don’t I wear it in to whatever town we find?” 

“Might cause a stir,” Papi remarked. “Might as well walk in naked then.” 

“You just want a nice view while you walk behind me,” Louis teased as he leaned back, resting against Papi’s chest. “You’ll just have to be patient until we find a place to stay. One with a decent bath, and soap.” 

“Then you’ll lounge naked in bed with me, and I can look all I want?” 

“Only if you’re doing the same, so I can look as well,” Louis replied. “It sounds so simple. Just a want for a bed and a bath and food that isn’t fish or berries, and to be relaxing together in proper safety. Yet so far away, perhaps farther than we even know or could fathom.” 

Papi nodded. He didn’t want to think about that potential problem, but he knew they needed to. 

There was time yet though. 

Tomorrow, they would check on the clothes, laid out to dry on the beach near the cave. They could practice using the new names, in between cleaning and hunting for the next day’s food. 

For now, Louis’ eyes had captured his, asking without words to be close and snuggle as the night wore on. And the only answer he could and would ever want to give was to wrap him up tight in his arms, watching the small fire as they fell asleep in the relative safety of the cave.

#text post #LeeH writes #Papillon movie fic

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #234 - Deep Blue

ANON: Owen reflects on the fear and worry he felt when Claire was stuck in the gyrosphere underwater

This fic contains mentions of Maisie but is pretty much Maisie free! I am trying to find a balance between Maisie fics for you all. But a good 99.7% do ask for her or haven’t stated whether they want her in it or not. So, if you would like a Maisie free fic please make sure to state that in your prompt! :) 

AO3

DEEP BLUE

Her apartment was dark, the only light coming in off the street making the room swim in murky waters. It reminded him of the island, of the cliff, the gyrosphere and the burn of salt water in his eyes. It was nothing compared to the panic beating over eager and loud in his chest, thudding against his ribs. It threatened to collapse, tranquilliser on the verge of shutting him down as the cold water seeped into his skin.

They were free from that torment. The day endured and fought until they could consider themselves safe once again. He couldn’t relax regardless, unable to close his eyes and let his bones settle. Even in the comfort of her apartment where the night was slowly coming to a close. The day would move when they woke, Claire and Maisie, up and seeking breakfast half looking to him for answers.

But he couldn’t stop looking at her, watching Claire’s chest rise and fall in her sleep. Her mouth was poised open, face turned towards him as her hand, on her stomach, moved with her breathing. He needed to watch her. It was the reassurance that his mind needed, the confirmation that she was still breathing and not stuck in that goddamn hamster ball. Hours had passed, the day turned into night twice since, but he couldn’t scratch that image from his mind. Couldn’t stop his heart from pounding or his fingers from wanting to curl themselves against her skin.

She was okay, he had to repeat to himself. She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay. God, they had spent 18 months apart, and now he felt ridiculous for letting that happen. How could he take advantage of her presence like that? Willingly giving up the time he had with her when it had potential to be so short. He always thought he’d go back to her, give up on his miserable life and beg her for forgiveness. The island just proved to him that nothing was certain or promised, just because she was there now didn’t mean her life couldn’t be taken away in seconds. He had to watch her, panic unconfined on her face as she pounded against the glass, movements desperate.

He never wanted to find themselves in that situation again. He never wanted to see Claire in front of him, potentially dying while he tries to save her. Owen nearly stopped breathing himself, almost chose to choke on salt water in front of her only so he didn’t have to leave her in their last moments. It was the trust in her eyes that sparked him to move for air, leaving her for a minute that felt like hours so he could fill his lungs and try again.

He panicked the whole way to the surface, kicking as hard as he could, scared the water would fill the gyrosphere and drown her before he came back. As a SEAL he had to be good in stressful situations, and Owen always had. He was calm, collected, under control like Claire in front of a board of investors. But, when it was her life on the line, he was struggling to keep his heart and mind in check. Neither were overlapping in the way he needed them too. He couldn’t think straight because all he could think about was Claire convulsing in her circular prison.

Why the fuck did they go back to that island? Instead of caving to her decision, he should have tried to change her mind. Maybe if he didn’t sulk half the time they sat in the bar he could have taken her back to his trailer and kept her distracted long enough to miss her flight.

‘I can hear you thinking.’ Claire mumbled, shifting in the bed beside him. He didn’t jump, flinch or twitch. His body knew she was awake before his mind caught up, too busy berating himself about the past. ‘You sigh a lot.’ She whispered into the deep blue, Owen unsure of if she was looking at him or the ceiling.

‘Sorry.’ His hand slid across the bedsheets, finding hers to give it an apologetic squeeze. ‘Go back to sleep.’

She grunted, shuffling closer to him despite the bandage he knew was wrapped tightly around her leg. ‘I can’t sleep if you’re up torturing yourself all night.’ Claire admitted honestly, tilting her head towards his, their eyes meeting in the dark. He had wrapped his arms around her, instinctively as she moved closer. After everything, he wasn’t going to deny the woman a hug just like he hadn’t picked up a blanket and proceeded to sleep in the living room. Owen wanted to be near her.

‘I’m not —‘

‘Don’t lie,’ She cut him off. He was dead tired down to his bones but couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. It was the nightmares he was scared of, falling so deep into the darkness that he was convinced it was real. He didn’t want to face her dying again. Claire shifted beside him, hissing a little due to the gash in her leg now freshly bandaged and treated. He was drawn from his thoughts at the sound, arms wrapping around her a little too tight. ‘Do you know what’s helping me be brave?’ She asked him like she was speaking with the young girl currently asleep in her guest bedroom. Owen shook his head, chin brushing across the top of her now clean hair, revelling in the soft scent that drifted into his nose. ‘Knowing that when I open my eyes, you’ll be right here.’

She was still scared. Owen knew it, saw it in the way she insisted they could make it all the way back to San Fransisco with their tired bodies and a car that didn’t belong to them. She dawdled when they arrived, shuffling in her steps as she did this and that, over fluffing to make Maisie comfortable. Claire drew a bath while Owen fetched a garbage bag for their clothes, Maisie standing awkwardly in the corner tired but unwilling to close her eyes.

Even when they were clean, freshly dressed and out of options Claire refused to stop. She came up with other things to do. Claire checked her cupboards for proper child-friendly foods, and when she found none, she started writing out a list.

It was Owen that had to coax her towards the bedroom, lying beside her until her body relaxed and her breathing evened out. He needed to see her settled before he could calm himself. The task was impossible, mind distracting him in the blue light, making Owen see things that weren’t there. He could see her mouth moving behind the glass, eyes blinking into the searing water, reading her lips. ‘Go! Save yourself!’ Repeating his name here and there like she just wanted to hear it for the last time while the opportunity was there.

‘I’d never leave you.’ He told her in the dark of the night, arms reaching for her as he pulled Claire’s body tighter into his chest, revelling at the feeling of her curling into him, hands tucked against his chest and her head under his chin. He had left her. She told him to go. But, he would never leave her in danger.

Claire understood. Had witnessed it in the last forty-eight hours. He didn’t leave her to go to that island alone. He didn’t leave her in the valley. He didn’t leave her at the bottom of the cliff. He left her in the diorama in Lockwood’s library, but Claire had told him to go, enforced it with a promising kiss.

‘I know,’ she told him, fists curling around the shirt he wore. ‘We’re going to have to work things out.’ Because the next thing that came after this was seeking out those released dinosaurs. They needed to be protected. Claire Dearing would not stand idly by while they got hunted down, captured, killed, tortured and whatever else. They needed to do something. The DPG was their best resource, but they required Claire to keep themselves afloat. Owen wasn’t going to like that idea, but he had no choice. They did this. They helped move those dinosaurs to a place where they were not safe, and even though a nine-year-old had hit the release button, they were there, an adult needed to be responsible.

Owen kissed the top of her head, pulling her in tighter, a hand sitting on the small of her back. ‘I know.’ He just didn’t want to do it now. ‘It’s not going to be easy.’

‘I think it will be worth it.’ She whispered, head tilting as her chin grazed his in the dark. Anything with her was worth it. Owen learnt that in their time apart, the shock of her near departure from this Earth reminding him that he rather be with her than without her. If they moved fast, they could round up all the dinosaurs within a few months and then this whole thing would be over.

Her hand slipped from his chest to his neck, fingers sliding up Owen’s nape as they started to scratch across his scalp. The movement was soothing, Claire’s touch everything he needed and more as he felt her breath beside him, chest to chest. Before he knew it, his eyes were heavy, lids closing on the darkness.

[…]

He was swimming, water rushing his ears and stinging in his nose. Owen had to blink, once, twice, three times to clear his vision, blurred in the deep blue. ‘Owen!' He heard her voice, the sound a desperate plea as he turned his head right and left trying to spot her in the dark.

‘Claire!’ He called for her, throat cracking as he searched. His heart was thudding, so erratically Owen swore it was going to burst right out of his chest. He heard the faint thud on the glass in his ears. A weak sound drowned out by its environment as he turned towards it. She was there, stuck behind the glass again, inside that dumb orb. Her palms were pressed to the surface, revealing the lines in her palms. He’d had a girlfriend in high school who used to run her fingers over those lines, telling him how long he would live, the expectant time of their relationship and the exact number of children he would have. Owen always thought it was bogus, still did. But, looking at Claire’s palms almost yellow in the light, he wished he had listened more, wished he could read those lines and tell her that her number wasn’t up yet. She wasn’t supposed to die at thirty-six.

She looked at him mournfully, movements weak as she banged again. There wasn’t much energy left inside of her, Claire’s batteries running flat. ‘I love you.’ She mouthed, Owen, reading the words on her lips as his head started to shake.

‘No.’ He told her, air releasing from his throat, muscles contracting as his need for air made itself known. She was saying goodbye, but he couldn’t let her. His hands patted down his pants, searching for something in his pocket that could crack the gyrosphere open. ‘I got you!’ He mouthed, her eyes turning sad as she shook her head. He could see she was trying to tell him something, but Owen wouldn’t look, refused to read the words she was saying. ‘I’ve got you.’ He repeated to himself, feeling the push of the words on his lips as his lungs contracted.

His fingers couldn’t find any grip against the glass of the gyrosphere. With a hurried force, he tried desperately to get purchase on something, anything that could provide him leverage enough to peel the door open. His heart was beating faster now, a bare inch from his skin as he tried to get her out.

Owen was choking on nothing, vision turning spotty as the lack of oxygen to his brain started to make an impact on his ability to help her.

‘Owen,’ her voice reached him, clear as day and right in his ear. ‘I’m right here. Right here.’ He felt a warmth against his chest, small pressure, body tingling as it always did at her touch. ‘Wake up.’ She whispered, calmly if not a little worried as he squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath in. When he opened they were moving into a sapphire blue morning, the sun not yet covering the earth, but lighting the sky in warning. Gone was the water, replaced with the curtains in Claire’s bedroom, her apartment warm around him. Her hand moved from his chest to his cheek, ‘There you are.’ He felt her smile in the dark, his body relaxing as she took a deep breath. He had been holding her too tight in her sleep, his body tense and tight as his thick arms held her in a vice-like grip.

‘Are you okay?’ He brushed a kiss past her forehead, his breathing heavy as he felt the tremble of fear trickle down his spine. It wasn’t the first time he had near crushed her in his sleep, holding on so desperately she couldn’t breathe. He had hurt her before, in the midst of a nightmare, his fingers bruising marks in the indents between her ribs. He always woke before it got too bad, her voice able to lull him out of the depths of the dark.

Claire nodded easily. ‘Always.’ She kissed the base of his neck, right where his shirt curved, feeling the bob of his Adam's apple against her cheek. She nuzzled her nose against the spot lightly, breathing in the smell of his skin. Claire shifted, moving free of his arms for a second before he felt her leg slide over his waist. He held his breath, waiting for a hiss to escape her lips.

She settled her body weight on top of him, and her head returned to its place under his chin. His hand found their place on her back, rubbing small circles as she breathed against him. ‘’m right here.’ She told him, cheek flat against his chest, muffling her voice as he took deep breaths in time with hers.

Something was comforting about her weight on top of him, all around him, and there. His mind couldn’t trick him, couldn’t deliver false truths, not when she was breathing right there, her back under one hand, her ass under the other. They were quiet as his heart rate returned to normal, the thud comfortable in her ears as hers beat against the opposite side of his chest.

‘I’m okay.’ She told him, fingers moving against his chest, curling in the fabric. ‘Still breathing.’ He felt her smile before she breathed out a heavy sigh, melting directly on top of him. They were quiet again, breathing in each other, vanilla under his nose when he felt her wriggle. It was a small movement, the shift of her hips and slide of her hand. He felt her touch on his belly, shirt misplaced as the tips of her fingers grazed his skin on their way towards his pants.

Owen grunted, the sound harsh in his throat, moving his body roughly as his hand found her wrist. ‘No,’ he told her, mournful of his lack of desire. Owen wanted to be intimate. Needed it. But he couldn’t, at that moment, allow things to be sexual. Not when he was still holding on by a thread. ‘I just want to hold you.’ His voice was wet, throat stuck suddenly as he felt his eyes blink back tears in the dark.

Her hands removed themselves, returning to run her fingers tentatively along his sides as she whispered a quiet ‘sorry’. Owen didn’t know what it was that broke him. The exhaustion, her soft voice, the force behind his nightmare or the warm and sleepy weight of Claire right on top of him. Whatever it was. The floodgates opened, Claire lifting her head from his chest when she heard the catch in his lungs. She thought she was crushing him, but he had only wrapped his arms around her again, keeping a tight hold as his chest shook.

‘Hey,’ she was quiet, her voice glitter in the dark. ‘Oh, Owen.’ One hand rubbed at his side while the other reached for his hair, Claire pecking his tear soaked cheek as her fingers lightly scratched at the back of his neck. ‘We’re okay. It’s going to be fine.’

Nothing broke past his tears, Owen letting a sob break past his control as she dropped her cheek back to his chest.  

He hated feeling vulnerable. Hated being weak. Hated, that there was something on this planet that could get to him. Owen disliked that they were going through this again. If she weren’t his anchor, he would have been mad at her for pulling him into it. But, Owen knew, she was always his anchor in every universe and every scenario. He was still going to go back to that island to keep a trusted set of eyes on her.

‘We’re not doing that again.’ He told her, almost a command. They couldn’t rule out dinosaurs, but Owen was going to try his damned hardest to keep the both of them right out of the destruction path on this one. Whatever it took.

Claire nodded, soft cotton of his shirt soothing on her skin. ‘I don’t think I can do bodies of water ever again.’ She admitted quietly, her hand tugging on his hair involuntarily. Owen hummed, maybe it could be something they compromised on.

#clawen #jurassic world #claire dearing #owen grady #fallen kingdom #despite the odds #this is actually a fucking mess but I am struggling with prompts so much atm #so i gotta push through