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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 3 years

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Our little love part 2 - mafia/yandere au Drabble {angst + fluff}

As always please let me know what you think, I am actually going to go to bed now my brain is angry with me for not sleeping.

It seemed the cycle was never ending, you fucking up and pissing them off, them punishing you by drowning you in their love, only letting you come up to breathe so you could swim in your own guilt and submit to them.

You wince as the victim to your latest fuck up gets another blow to his chest. Taehyung and Hobi held onto his arms as Jungkook and Jimin kick and punch the poor individual. You know not to speak, it’ll only make things worse. Temperament was a fickle thing in their lives, trust was everything, and you still had to build yours up again.

“Y/n help please,” Kai whimpers as you stood with your arms crossed looking away.

“Don’t fucking say her name,” Jungkook growled before punching your ex colleague in the face. You’re frowning, the need to beg them to stop was fighting for exit on the top of your tongue, but you bite it down and pray Kai doesn’t say another word. You know if you do as he asks they’d kill him. Your punishment was to watch silently.

Yoongi strolls up behind you, hands in his pockets before he rests his head on your shoulder, watching the display in front of you both.

“Nothing to say little love?” He whispers as your friend groans out in pain.

Please don’t kill him, you want to say, but you just shake your head in defeat. You want to believe they’re better than this, but the evidence of the contrary was never hidden from you. They showed you every side of them whether proud of it or not with bold eyes daring you to stop loving them, pushing your boundaries and morals waiting for you to snap. But the breaking point never came, you loved them, you shouldn’t and you knew it, but you did. You were completely and utterly theirs, yet still they treated you like you hadn’t seen the worst of them. Like you would run away the second you realised they were monsters, not that they would let you run far, only far enough to let you take a single breath before making you drown in them once again.

Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, keeping an eye on your reactions. The asshole deserved it, not that they cared either way, he tried to take you away from them, that was enough.

Kai was your old partner before you took a very early retirement, what you didn’t know was that he continued the case you were working on before you left; the case of the seven men you now loved and the reason you quit said job. He had called you to meet up for old times sake and you, very naively in Yoongi’s mind, decided it was harmless. But if it was harmless why didn’t you say anything to the boys? You thought Kai didn’t know the reason you handed in your resignation, but he had been keeping an eye on you all before he realised you were the key to their downfall. He knew you harboured some feeling for him in the past and thought you’d reciprocate when he tried to flirt his way into getting his hands on the evidence you collected, he didnt know you burned it all. You lied to him and said you lost it, same difference anyway. This prompted plan b from him.

“Y/n they’re criminals,” he had said to you. “You’re a cop at heart you can’t love them.”

You floundered at his words when you realised he knew, and yet he still asked you to betray them.

“Kai I think I need to go...”

It was a mistake, you knew it then, but he followed you out onto the street and you hoped tonight the men you loved weren’t keeping an eye on you. Maybe naive was an understatement.

“Are they coercing you Y/n! Do they have something on you or are they threatening you?” He calls after you. “Because the Y/n I know would never love killers, what have they done to you?”

It was when he reached his hand out to grab your arm that your boyfriends decided to show themselves from the shadows. Which lead to the situation now, Kai beat up and bruised beyond recognition, and you forced to watch. He falls unconscious and they let him drop to the floor, you hate this side of them, it was cruel and cold but you’d never leave. They turn to face you now, their anger still present despite the last hour of releasing it onto your old partner. They don’t miss the way you’re shaking, the shallow breaths as you try and keep your tears to yourself. As much as you hate their violence, you hate their disappointment in you more.

——————————————————————————

You’re sitting in Joonie’s lap for what you call the debriefing of your punishment, this happened way too often in your opinion. You look down but he wasn’t having it today, tilting your head to look at him by your chin.

“Why did you get punished today little love?” He starts the same way as usual.

“I went out without telling you guys where I was going or who with,” you say while fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit.

“And?” Hobi sits across from you in a chair, legs straddling the back and an elbow rested on top with his fist holding up his face. Hobi was hardest to pacify, he was ruthless and unforgiving and while that didn’t extend to you, you still had a hard time with his stubborn anger.

“I met up with Kai, and I let him touch me,” you’ve done this too many times before to not know how it worked. Kai’s ‘touch’ obviously meant nothing to you but for them it was the worst crime anyone could commit against their little love.

You remember the time you nearly tripped in the park and a guy steadied you politely, but you still had to hold Jungkook back from throwing hands.

“Kookie would you rather I fell and hurt myself?” No he hadn’t wanted that so he grumbled in agreement still seething but you cooled it down. “Instead of hitting him maybe you should thank him,” it was a joke but it made the youngest scoff.

“Baby girl why can’t you just be good?” Namjoon’s sigh brings you back to the present. “Why do you always have to test us like this?”

You didn’t mean to, you want to say it but the words are stuck below the sob in your throat. You actually whimper as his tone, bottom lip wobbling pathetically. He hadn’t even told you off properly, but you already felt like a mess as he bathed you in his disappointment. That was the common consequence of your actions and you hated it, you couldn’t do anything right.

——————————————————————————

“Jin do you need help with the food?” You ask your eldest boyfriend politely, he was frowning and you thought it was because today’s meal was too much for him to handle alone, his tone of voice made you realise it was because of you.

“No, I’m alright,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks and you’re left gaping at him like a fish. Jin loved it when you cooked with him, it was your bonding time without the others, although Yoongi would join you from time to time. The others also tried but Jin wouldn’t let them anywhere near the kitchen, they hogged you enough anyway.

You feel your soul deflate, still standing there as he ignored you.

“Are you mad at me too?”

The way you said it made his heart twinge with guilt, but the others were right you wouldn’t learn and your first betrayal was still fresh on their minds. He sighs and you turn away, refusing to crying in front of them for the tenth time that day. What was wrong with you? Ever since that day where they found out who you really were you felt like you werent enough anymore, you tried so hard to make up for it all but you kept messing up. You weren’t like this before, but after seeing the hurt you put them through you were constantly on edge and second guessing yourself. You wish you could go back and stop them from ever finding out.

Jin hears the sniffle as you walk away and he can’t go through with it.

“Wait little love,” he calls for you. “I forgot to cut the onions, would you mind?”

You shake your head, you didn’t mind, but you didn’t trust your voice to answer for you. Youre grateful to Jin for giving you this task, it hides the fact you’re crying, but you know he doesn’t miss it.

——————————————————————————

Jimin and Taehyung were giving you narrowed stern gazes through dinner, it put you off your food which resulted in getting told off by Jin just after he branched out to you in the kitchen.

You felt alone, like the seven men you loved were against you and there was no one to blame but yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly before getting up and removing yourself from the dinner table and dining room, ignoring all of their stares. You decide maybe an early night is best, you could start again fresh tomorrow. You don’t get too far up the stairs before a hand pulls you back, you turn to see Jimin with Tae a few steps behind him.

You’re so used to seeing them laugh and play around that it feels like you’re looking at different people. Even during missions or gun fights, the youngest three were always joking their way through the bloodshed, keeping scores of who got the most headshots and other grotesque games. You remember the time Jimin and Tae called you during he middle of a shoot out, arguing with you and each other over who you loved more out of the two while you begged them to not get shot or killed.

“Why did you go see him Y/n?” Jimin asked, he wore the demeanour he used for enemies and it takes you back to that night.

“I... h-he said he wanted to see me to catch up,” you explain but you know it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“And you thought that was a good idea, to see your old cop buddy?” His tone makes you feel stupid, you weren’t stupid.

“He was my friend Jimin,” you say in disbelief, you know in the end it was a mistake but at the time it didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“You’re ours,” Taehyung moved forward, towering over you even though he’s a step below you. His face is close to your own, eyes burning into yours as he looks disgusted at the words that left your mouth as if they’re still attached to you. “How do you think we felt when you went to see another detective? Do you have any idea what was going through our heads?”

“Tae I love you,” you lean away from him, searching his face for a hint of softness and love in his gaze, but there was only fire. “You know I wouldn’t, you all know I wouldn’t, I left that life for you why would I turn back to it?”

He stalks away from you without a word, Jimin close behind, giving you a final cold glance before leaving you alone. You thought your love could make them better but if anything you made their darkness worse.

——————————————————————————

Jungkook needed to vent, the only way he knew how was physically. Obviously it wasn’t the cleverest thing he’s done, taking rounds with the punching bag only to open up the cuts on his hand from beating the bastard earlier. He mutters a few curse words under his breath, why did you make matters worse? Maybe they were being harsh on you before today, finding any excuse to punish you a little, test your boundaries and see if you would run, but today they honestly feared that was what happened. They thought you chose to leave them and go back to the life you had before them, but they’d never let you go, they couldn’t let you go. Despite everything you loved them and they worshipped the ground you walked on. You were everything for them now, there’s be no point to any of them without you. Why didn’t you understand that?

He throws another punch to the bag, spreading his blood across them, it hurt like hell, but the thought of you running back to your old partner still played on all of their minds. He wanted to cry, he wanted to find you and beg you to never leave them, they’d be nothing without you.

There’s a knock on the door and he finds you on the other side, waiting for permission to come in. You never waited for permission, it makes him frown, maybe they were too harsh on you today. He could see you shuffling your weight, insecurity screaming through your eyes, you feared his rejection more than his anger.

He notices the first aid kit in your hand, you must’ve heard him. He doesn’t let the fluttering in his chest reach his face as he sits on the bench, waiting for you to come to him.

His gaze is expectant, daring you to cross the threshold and face him, you were no coward, you didn’t fear them the way others did, why were you behaving so meekly now? You force yourself to move and sit beside him, setting the kit down and pushing your hair back behind your ears. He doesn’t move his gaze away from you, even with the sweat and hair hanging in front of his face.

You carefully take a his hand into yours, sucking air between your teeth at how injured it was.

“I’m sorry you hurt yourself because of me,” you say, eyes on his bloodied knuckle as you press the ointment against the open wounds. “Are you sure you want me to stay, I keep hurting you...”

You try to sound like you’re joking, that you’re okay and the hurt isn’t weighing you down with your doubts. He frowns, they really did take it too far. He sets down the cotton wool from your grasp, taking both of hands into his before kissing each finger delicately without letting you look away.

“You’re perfect little love,” Jungkook says, reassuring you with no question in his voice. “We’re the ones who don’t deserve you, we’re mean and cruel but we’re never letting you go.”

You remember how loving they were before that night, maybe while they accepted the truth at face value they could never really forgive you in their hearts. Maybe that’s why they were being like this, they didn’t love you the same way anymore.

“Do you love me?” You had to know, the doubt was eating you alive.

He looks at you as if you’re insane, maybe you are, you don’t know anymore.

“Little love, don’t you see how much we love you?” He asks sincerely. “We would do anything for that love even if it made you hate us, you belong with us, and no one is going to take you away.”

You could see the crazed look in his face grow as he spoke, you believed him, the honestly worn like a heart on a sleeve. But his answer bought a wave clarity to your hazed vision, you made them like this, you made them worse, you had to leave.

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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

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five times geralt saw jaskier naked on accident + one time it was entirely on purpose. ~6k. Read on AO3 here!

“Get back here, you mangy knob!” echoes down the hallway, and Geralt pauses on the way to his room.

It’s been a long night, and Geralt would like nothing better than to collapse into bed, but trouble has a habit of following Jaskier like flies to shit. He’s the whole reason Geralt even has a bed for the night, so Geralt sighs and follows the shouting.

He wishes he could say he’s surprised when he rounds a corner and Jaskier runs head first into him, but honestly, it’s nothing short of expected. What does throw Geralt for a loop, though, is the fact that Jaskier is completely naked, expanses of smooth skin exposed as he sprawls back on the ground in a very undignified manner, clutching his nose.

“Fuck, Geralt!” he cries, but it comes out garbled. “You broke my nose!”

The man who was chasing after Jaskier comes to a sudden halt, panting in front of them. “He slept with my wife!”

Geralt frowns. “Are you sure it was him?”

The man gapes and gestures at Jaskier’s nakedness. Geralt curses Jaskier for being so obvious; it makes his job much more complicated.

“Maybe he can give you some tips on how to satisfy her so she doesn’t feel the need to look elsewhere next time,” Geralt suggests, one hand coming up to casually rest on the hilt of his dagger strapped to his belt.

“It’s all about the tongue,” Jaskier pipes up in a nasally tone, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

The man’s eyes dart from Geralt to Jaskier, and back to Geralt before a look of realization crosses his face and it drains of color. “You’re… the butcher of Blaviken?”

“That’s him! So you’d best get back to your chambers if you want to keep all your limbs!” Jaskier crows, but only half of it is intelligible through the hand he’s holding to his nose.

The man looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but he bites his lip and retreats, after one last withering glance at Jaskier.

Geralt turns to Jaskier, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing. “Will you ever learn?” he asks in exasperation. “I’m not always going to be around to clean up your messes, you know.”

“I’m fairly certain you have a much longer life expectancy than me,” Jaskier lisps, looking up at Geralt with doe eyes.

Geralt sighs and sticks out a hand to help Jaskier up.

Jaskier takes it, his fingertips lingering on the soft flesh of Geralt’s forearm, and heaves himself up. His hand stays on Geralt’s arm, and Geralt drags him back to their room.

“Sit,” he says gruffly, rustling around in his pack for a clean rag.

He steps over to the wash basin and dips it in before walking back to over Jaskier. He wipes the blood away from Jaskier’s nose gently, but an observer wouldn’t think so from the way Jaskier winces and groans.

Geralt sighs. “Serves you right.”

“That’s just cruel, Geralt.” Jaskier squirms on the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lap.

Geralt resolutely focuses on his face. He squints at Jaskier’s nose, which is just the slightest bit crooked. “This is going to hurt,” Geralt warns. “One, two.”

Jaskier yelps as Geralt sets his nose back into its proper place, finishing up dabbing the blood away before he packs Jaskier’s nose full of gauze. “There,” he says. “Good as new.”

There are tears welling in Jaskier’s eyes from the pain. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he says weakly.

“Maybe you’ll be able to go more than a week without cuckolding another husband this time.”

Jaskier lets out an indignant snort. “Hey, sometimes I just sleep with the husbands themselves. Then I have to watch what I eat, though,” he blathers on, and Geralt is honestly impressed with the lengths of his chatter even when Geralt imagines it must be painful to speak. “Have sex with one wrong person, and all of a sudden everyone and their mother is trying to poison you.”

Geralt’s not sure how to respond.

Jaskier sighs and turns over in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”

“Try not to drown in your own blood.”

“Always nice to know you care.”

And then, almost too softly for Jaskier to hear, “Good night, Jask.”

ii.

Geralt jerks awake and sits up in his bed roll. The fire is crackling happily, a far cry from the smoldering logs Geralt would have expected. He looks around, and Jaskier is gone. Normally, this would worry him, but if Jaskier took the time to stoke their fire, that probably means he hasn’t been eaten. Most likely.

The slight chance that something untoward has happened propels Geralt out of the warmth of his blankets. He tugs on his boots and follows the faint scent of Jaskier, a warm mix of wood smoke and contentedness, these days.

His nose leads him to the river bank, and he hovers right on the edge of the tree line, scouting for any possible dangers. He doesn’t see any, but as he does his sweep, his gaze catches on Jaskier’s bare back and lingers there. There’s a smattering of freckles that Geralt can just barely make out, until they disappear when Jaskier dunks his hair under the water.

Geralt knows that he should stop just standing here, should either reveal himself or just slink back to their camp and start packing things up, but he finds himself rooted in place as Jaskier rubs a rag over his shoulder blades.

Geralt is half tempted to offer his help in reaching Jaskier’s back, but he knows how that would probably be received.

Geralt is transfixed as Jaskier begins to sing, and he sinks down to sit with his back to a tree to listen. Jaskier is always wanting his opinion on his songs, so surely he’d be fine with this, right?

It's not fair, oh, it's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair, 'cause you make me ache, you bastard

And he'll say

Oh, how, oh, how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you

'Cause if I'm stood here, then I'm stood here

And I'll stand—

Geralt’s jerked out of his trance of listening to Jaskier sing in his honeyed tones by a disturbance in the water, and Geralt focuses in on the ripples that are starting to froth before a drowner emerges, its scaly skin glistening in the morning light. Jaskier screams, and Geralt leaps from his hiding spot, unsheathing his sword.

Jaskier turns to look at the new disturbance with wide eyes, minutely relaxing when he sees it’s Geralt. Geralt jumps into the water, landing on the drowner’s back. It jerks and bucks, deceptively strong as it tries to toss Geralt off. Geralt hooks his hands around its neck, his sword gripped precariously.

The drowner gives one last shake, and Geralt goes flying, his sword falling with a splash. There’s a clawed, webbed hand on Geralt’s head, forcing him under the water. He thrashes, trying to get free, but to no avail. Geralt keeps his mouth tightly shut, and his lungs start to burn as he continues to fight.

Bright spots start to dance at the edge of his vision, getting darker and fuzzier now, and Geralt knows he’s right on the verge of losing consciousness. He’s unable to stop his gasp for air, but only water finds his lungs. He’s resigned himself to this being the way it ends when suddenly the grip goes lax and he’s able to propel himself to the water’s surface, gasping for breath.

“Geralt? Geralt?” comes a worried voice, floaty and distant sounding. “Geralt, are you okay?”

There’s a pounding on his back, and water dribbles from his lips. A litany of curses follow and sharp tugs on his arm that lead him back to the bank.

Geralt coughs and splutters, more water escaping him as he finally registers Jaskier pacing around anxiously... completely naked. Geralt chokes, and Jaskier is there in an instant, a warm hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles.

“You’re okay,” he croons with a gentle pat.

Geralt doesn’t feel okay. He feels like he about died and is seconds away from doing it again via spontaneous combustion at the sight of all Jaskier’s skin on display. Geralt picks a spot on the distance and fixes his gaze on it.

“Good thing you were around,” Jaskier says finally, and Geralt burns in shame at the thought of why exactly he was there.

He’s lucky Jaskier isn’t running away in repulsion, like he would be if he knew the truth.

Jaskier asks him if he’s okay yet again, and Geralt grunts.

“Oh, goody, you’re well enough for monosyllabic conversation. Back to normal, then.”

Geralt grunts again, and Jaskier laughs, a delightful trilling thing.

“Oh, here you go,” Jaskier says, handing Geralt back his sword that’s covered in monster guts and ichor.

Geralt’s eyes do not bug out as the realization hits him. “You… you?”

“Well, it was drowning you! I couldn’t just stand around, now could I?”

“I...suppose not,” Geralt mutters, but in actuality, he can count on one hand the number of times someone’s actually come to his aid while he was fighting a monster. The most he can wish for is someone who won’t recoil as they patch up his wounds later.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit,” Jaskier pauses, “distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly.

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you have a near death experience,” Jaskier muses, “Oh, wait.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to save your sorry ass so often.” Geralt shoves at him and instantly flushes red as his hand touches Jaskier’s bare skin and he registers again that he’s naked.

“Put on some clothes,” Geralt mumbles, averting his eyes.

There’s a heavy silence as Geralt waits for Jaskier to say something in response, some sort of rib, but nothing comes, just the soft swish of fabric as he gets dressed.

Geralt grits his teeth.

iii.

Geralt trudges down the rocky path, Roach just behind him. The trail from Kaer Morhen is downright treacherous at the best of times and fatal at worst, so Geralt would rather walk than risk Roach making a wrong step and sending them both pitching off a cliff.

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome, after the winter Geralt has just endured. Eskel and Lambert took great pride in elbowing Geralt and making him the butt of their every joke, saying in glee that they could smell the longing drifting off of him.

“Is Geralt in loooove?” Lambert had sang, until Geralt shoved him off his chair to shut him up.

Lambert tumbled to the floor with a clatter of his armor, but he still wore his unbearably smug expression. Eskel had looked at him with soft eyes. “You could have brought them here, you know. I want to know whoever can make you happy.”

“Yeah, we all know how impossible that is for Mr. Melancholy,” Lambert said.

Geralt shakes his head and puts his focus back on putting one foot in front of the other. The other witchers had endlessly pestered him about his plans for the spring, but Geralt hadn’t wanted to tell them. He likes Jaskier being just for him, and he had waited impatiently for the snow to melt in the pass. He was the first to set out, and he valiantly tried to ignore Lambert’s snickers as he left.

Geralt is headed to Oxenfurt. He and Jaskier hadn’t made set plans to meet up, because it normally doesn’t take too long for them to accidentally on purpose run into each other, but this year, Geralt doesn’t want to wait. The winter had stretched out into much longer than normal, with biting cold and piles of snow, so Geralt is more than ready to be warm again.

When the path finally stops twisting and turning, Geralt mounts Roach and picks up their pace a bit. It’s certainly only because he’s eager to sleep in a bed, never mind that he’s been sleeping in one all winter.

Geralt pulls his hood up against the early spring chill and soldiers on.

When Geralt finally arrives, several days and sleepless nights later, it’s just before dawn. Jaskier has always had a proclivity towards nocturnal behavior, with only Geralt’s need to be up and moving at first light tempering it, so Geralt doesn’t think Jaskier will mind the intrusion.

Geralt ties Roach to a hitching post, promising to come back and find her a stable once the sun breaks over the horizon, and then he wanders until streets start to look familiar, and Jaskier’s cozy house comes into view.

Geralt steps up to the door and knocks, and he definitely does not try to tame his hair into some semblance of kempt or get an anxious churning in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Jaskier again. There’s no answer to his knock, so he tries again, but Jaskier still doesn’t materialize. Geralt tries the knob, and to his alarm, it’s unlocked.

His first thought is one of panic—what if something’s wrong? Jaskier wouldn’t just leave his door unlocked; someone could walk right in and steal his lute. Geralt opens the door quietly and creeps through the dark house. There are no immediate signs that there’s anything amiss. There are only three rooms, and Geralt eases the bedroom door open to peek inside. He’s immediately arrested by Jaskier sprawled out naked on his bed.

Geralt takes a hurried step back, but not before his eyes dart all over Jaskier’s body. He’s just taking stock of any new injuries Jaskier might have incurred while Geralt wasn’t around to protect him from the wrath of cuckolded husbands, that’s all. Jaskier looks paler and more gaunt than he was when Geralt left him, but Geralt supposes that’s just a side effect of winter.

Geralt retreats slowly, locking the door behind him and resolving to come back when the sun is high in the sky.

Geralt stumbles onto the street, the early morning light making everything washed out as he scuffs his boots along the ground. He meanders back the way he came, deciding he’ll stable Roach and then see about something for breakfast. He hadn’t felt hungry in his haste to get to Jaskier, but now that his enthusiasm has been tempered, he’s starving. He tries to remember the last time he stopped to eat something more substantial than whatever he could pull out of his pack. Two, three, days ago, maybe?

Roach comes into view, pawing her hoof against the dirt impatiently. Geratlt huffs a laugh as he walks closer, untying her reins from the hitch and clicking his tongue as he leads her in a direction that he’s getting a big whiff of horse from.

Geralt leaves Roach at the stables, with his usual stern frown at the stable boy and a chastisement to Roach to be good as she nips at his shirt.

Roach taken care of, he sets off to look for something to eat, wondering if it’s too soon for Jaskier to be up yet. His eyes flicker shut for a moment as he thinks of the Jaskier’s robe, and how if he goes right now and knocks on his door, he might answer wearing that and nothing else.

Although, if he does that, even Jaskier might be able to smell the lust rolling off of him.

Geralt sighs and continues his trudge, until he stops in his tracks and redirects his path. He looks up at the sun’s position in the sky. It’s been long enough. Surely Jaskier is wearing actual clothes by now?

Geralt walks back to Jaskier’s home, the path turning from dirt to cobblestone as he gets closer. There’s a patch of grass peeking between the stones with three orange wildflowers growing in it. Geralt stoops down and picks them without thinking too much about it.

Geralt carries the flowers loosely in one hand down at his side. When he reaches the steps leading up to Jaskier’s door, he pauses to steel himself, to try to prepare himself for if Jaskier’s whole chest is on display in his robe, but he’s interrupted by an obnoxious throat clearing.

Geralt whirls around to glare at the person, but he’s arrested by the sight of a man scowling right back at him. “Hope you’re not planning to bother some nice girl, Witcher. Like anyone would ever want you.”

Geralt glances down at the flowers in his hand, and then back to the man, mouth flapping uselessly. He has a point.

“She’s probably just too scared to tell you to fuck off,” the man sneers, and Geralt’s fingers itch to pull his dagger from his belt, but he restrains himself.

He surreptitiously looks around for a place to drop the flowers. The man is right; this is a terrible idea. What is he hoping to accomplish with this? Just to make Jaskier smile? He’s an idiot.

A door slams open, and then, “Well, I have no such qualms. Fuck off.”

Geralt turns around to see Jaskier—and thank fuck he’s wearing clothes this time, but he’s wearing that ridiculous lavender robe, with his leg jutting out right below where it’s knotted together. Geralt desperately averts his eyes, turning back around to frown at the man, but he’s disappeared.

He looks at Jaskier, then, drinking him in after a winter apart. Jaskier makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat. “For me?” he asks, holding out his hands for the flowers.

Geralt hands them over without comment, but he can’t hide the smallest of smiles as he follows Jaskier into the house, Jaskier chattering away about everything Geralt missed.

And, gods, did he miss a lot.

iv.

When Geralt bolts awake this time, Jaskier is gone again. Geralt would be concerned that just anyone could sneak up on him while he’s sleeping, but he knows his body has started to become in tune with the sound of Jaskier and it no longer deems it necessary to rip him from his sleep for just Jaskier padding around.

Still, Geralt wipes the sleep from his eyes and slowly gets up to start disassembling their camp. Jaskier will be back soon, and then they can be on their way. Geralt casts his eyes to the horizon, noting the first rays of morning peeking over it.

Geralt ambles over to where he had tethered Roach to a tree and scratches his fingertips over her neck. She headbutts his other hand, impatiently waiting for her breakfast. Geralt huffs a laugh.

Geralt has everything packed up and he’s been leaning against a tree impatiently for three minutes when he starts to get worried. Who knows what could be in these woods? There could be any number of things looking to make a meal out of Jaskier.

Geralt paces in a circle around their doused fire. On one hand, Jaskier could be doing something like taking a shit somewhere, but on the other hand, he might be hurt.

Geralt freezes when he hears a faint strangled cry, and his feet are moving even though his mind has barely registered the sound. Geralt crashes through the underbrush, uncaring about how much noise he makes or the thorns that tear against his skin, until he skids to a stop in front of Jaskier. In front of Jaskier, who locks eyes with him while his cock is in his hand and comes with an aborted gasp.

Heat burns up Geralt’s face. “Sorry, I—” he cuts himself off and flees back the way he came.

He berates himself as he walks back to their camp. They haven’t been in a town in over three weeks, why was that not what he expected? In all honesty, that’s why he hadn’t gone after Jaskier immediately, but after he heard him shout all of the thoughts of restraint flew out of his brain. The only thing he could focus on was Jaskier needing help.

Geralt tries not to dwell on the thought of how Jaskier’s cock had looked, flushed and jutting out proudly. Geralt pulls Roach’s brush out of the saddle bag and works her over carefully, making sure every hair is going the same way and helping her shed her thick winter coat.

By the time Jaskier stumbles back, Geralt had thought he had managed to put the incident out of his mind, but the sight of Jaskier proves him wrong. “Ready to go?” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier opens his mouth and shuts it with a click of his teeth. “What are we waiting for?”

Geralt swings himself up onto Roach, and doesn’t let himself look back to make sure Jaskier follows.

Geralt’s eyes crack open as the door to the inn room squeaks. He grunts in displeasure at being disturbed, and then remembers Jaskier is supposed to be with the barmaid and bolts upright. The door is just out of view from the bed, so Geralt eases himself out of bed and picks up the dagger. He creeps to where the wall juts out and then jumps out on the other side, revealing himself.

“Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?” Jaskier laughs nervously, and Geralt sheepishly drops the dagger onto the chair as his eyes widen.

“What is with you and always being naked?” Geralt growls in frustration, trying not to look at the creamy expanse of Jaskier’s skin, marred with freckles instead of scars like Geralt’s.

Jaskier’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“Nevermind. Just—what is going on?”

“Ah. Right. That. I got…kicked out.”

“Did she have a husband?”

“Um, yes, yes, that’s exactly right. He did not appreciate the soiling of their marital bed.”

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly even as a pang of longing lodges itself right between his ribs. He doesn’t stop to examine it for too long.

Geralt turns his back and slips back over to the bed. The one bed, because he had thought he would be alone tonight. Geralt sighs.

There’s a quiet swish of fabric as Jaskier pulls on some clothes. “That was one of my favorite shirts, and now it’ll probably end up burnt or some other ridiculous thing.”

The doublet in question was a gaudy scarlet thing with obnoxious gold threading and beading sewn into it. The light always caught on it just wrong to shine into Geralt’s eyes and give him a headache. “What a pity.”

Jaskier shoves at his shoulder as he clambers into the bed without a second thought. Geralt swallows hard at the dip of the lumpy mattress, at the body what so close to his all of a sudden. Jaskier’s heartbeat thuds, and a peculiar smell drifts off of him that Geralt can’t quite place.

Geralt turns over so that he’s facing Jaskier. “What’s wrong?”

Jaskier buries his face into the pillow. The one pillow, that he tugs away from Geralt. “Nothing,” he says, heaving a dramatic sigh.

“Hmm. Well.” Geralt pauses and tries to think of a way to respond that won’t have Jaskier calling him an emotionless boulder later. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

Jaskier lifts his head up from the pillow to meet Geralt’s eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know that I was speaking to anything other than the wall when I talk to you.”

Geralt yanks the pillow out from under Jaskier and hits him with it. “Shut up.”

+ i.

Jaskier sighs as he unfurls his bedroll. He’s been unleashing heavy sighs about once an hour for the past week, and it’s driving Geralt up the wall. He’s asked Jaskier if everything was all right four separate times now, and Jaskier has brushed him off each time.

“Jaskier, just tell me what’s the matter,” he begs after Jaskier sighs as he returns with water from the stream.

Jaskier plops the bucket down right next to the fire, and some splashes out and douses the small smolder Geralt had got started.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls before Jaskier can even react.

“Fine! You want to know what’s so wrong? It’s you!”

Geralt rears back, blinking rapidly. He wants to make a beeline for Roach and try to get the feeling of Jaskier’s eyes boring into his out of his mind as soon as possible, but he can’t just leave Jaskier high and dry out here all alone. Geralt shakes his head and turns away.

“Wait,” Jaskier’s hand comes around to clamp onto Geralt’s wrist. Geralt nearly shakes him off, but then Jaskier is saying again, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt meets Jaskier’s eyes cautiously and arches an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

Jaskier rubs the back of his neck. “You know I got kicked out of that room the other night.”

Geralt grunts. “For cuckolding the husband?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly. I lied. There was no husband. Turns out some people aren’t all that impressed when you say the wrong name in the heat of things.”

“Jaskier, what does that have to do with—”

“It’s you, Geralt,” he whispers.

“Oh.”

Geralt is taken aback. He’s never had this happen with a human before. It’s… hard to imagine that a human could see him as anything other than repulsive, something to be tolerated just to part him from his coin.

“And now I see that I’ve made a complete and total mess of things. I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

As Jaskier’s grip on his wrist loosens, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand instead. “You haven’t made a mess of anything.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen before he reaches the hand Geralt isn’t holding up to cup Geralt’s face. Geralt turns his head to nuzzle into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier leans forward to press his lips to Geralt. Their fingers become untangled as they move on, Jaskier’s coming up to twist in Geralt’s hair, and Geralt’s stroking across Jaskier’s cheek bone.

When they pull away, Jaskier lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Wow. It seems like I could have saved my hand some work while we were on the road.”

Geralt rolls his eyes at Jaskier’s crudeness.

“Come on, you know that was funny,” Jaskier wheedles into his ear.

Geralt pushes him aside and crouches down to rebuild their fire. “You’re rarely funny.”

Jaskier claps a hand over his chest and splutters. “Okay, still incredibly rude. Nice to know some things never change, I suppose.”

Jaskier huffs and walks away, going over to feed Roach while Geralt attempts to find some kindling that isn’t damp.

A smile tugs at Geralt’s lips.

When the fire is roaring once again, Geralt wanders over to where Jaskier is now sitting against a tree.

Geralt sits down beside him. “I do think you’re funny sometimes,” he admits.

“You’ve already wounded my pride, Geralt; it’s too late.”

“And so if I offered you a… hand, you’d turn me down?”

Jaskier jerks his head up and turns to Geralt. “That is not what I said in any way, shape, or form.”

“Hmm.”

In the end, it doesn’t happen that night, or the day after that. It’s when they’re finally at an inn that Jaskier pounces on him. Geralt has barely shut the door to their room when Jaskier is on him. “I’ve been so patient,” he whines.

Geralt raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Geralt, you’re impossible,” Jaskier huffs in exasperation. “Well, I’m asking now.”

Geralt kisses him, slow and sweet, and Jaskier groans his eagerness into his mouth.

Jaskier’s fingers fumble with the clasps of his armor, until Geralt laughs and takes it off himself. When he turns back around after carefully setting all the pieces on a chair, Jaskier is already naked, and finally, Geralt allows himself to look. He drinks it in, notices the tiny scar Jaskier has on his thigh, rakes his eyes over Jaskier’s chest. He moves closer so he can comb his fingers down the hair between Jaskier’s pecs, and he preens at the attention.

Jaskier reaches down to undo his trousers, and Geralt steps out of them. He takes off his shirt, and sheds his smallclothes, looking back up to see Jaskier staring at him. His soft expression turns into a self satisfied grin as he hums to himself.

“What?” Geralt asks, already sure he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Nothing. Okay, fine, just—the carpet matches the drapes, is all.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’s a mutation. Do you think I would choose for it to be white? What were you expecting?”

“You’re no fun,” Jaskier pauses. “What color did your hair used to be?”

Geralt stops and thinks. “Brown, probably? I don’t remember.”

Jaskier whistles. “That’s terribly sad. Do you think your childhood would make a good ballad? I bet it would.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grits out.

“Okay, okay. Insensitive, I apologize.”

Geralt pulls back, but Jaskier winds his arms around his shoulders and keeps him in place. “I’m sorry,” he says again, rubbing his nose against the delicate skin of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt shudders and lets Jaskier distract him. It’s not like his childhood is something he particularly likes to dwell on, especially when there’s something much better for him to focus on in the form of Jaskier’s swelling cock judging against his hip.

Jaskier presses up close against him, bracketing Geralt against the door and putting his palm flat over Geralt’s heart before he kisses him again.

Geralt lets the sensation wash over him, the pleasant feelings and the vibration that sends a thrumming through his bones. He walks Jaskier back to the bed and lays him out, crawling on top and straddling him.

Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Gods, Geralt. You’re beautiful.”

A hot blush rises to Geralt’s face and he turns away, but Jaskier takes his wrist.

“Don’t mock me,” Geralt mumbles.

“Darling,” Jaskier says, sitting up and taking both of Geralt’s hands in his. “I’m not.”

Geralt doesn’t know how to respond. He looks down at his body, littered with scars, some pink and small and some, long healed, white and wicked looking. “Hmm.”

Jaskier sighs and tugs Geralt in for another kiss, before he maneuvers Geralt so he’s the one laying down. Jaskier works his way down Geralt’s body, lingering on each scar until Geralt squirms uncomfortably beneath him.

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh as he makes it to the soft inside of Geralt’s thighs, and Geralt starts squirming for a different reason. A whine comes from the back of Geralt’s throat as Jaskier continues to ignore his cock, throbbing and painful at this point.

Jaskier finally has pity on him and takes him in hand, making Geralt sigh and his eyes flutter shut. Jaskier jacks him quickly, bringing Geralt to the edge faster than he would like to admit before he backs off and moves his hand. He goes back to tracing Geralt’s scars, his fingertips finding the one that cut through the muscle of his leg and healed jagged and rough.

He hovers over a different one, looking up at Geralt with a question in his eyes. Jaskier’s wheedled most of the stories of his scars out of him, but this one—Geralt huffs. “I tripped over a rock and fell right onto a very pointy root,” he admits.

Jaskier’s lips quirk up into a grin, and Geralt is about to chastise him for laughing when Jaskier directs his attention back to Geralt’s cock.

Geralt gasps as warm heat envelops him, and his hand comes down to tangle in Jaskier’s soft hair. Jaskier’s other hand comes up to stroke the part of Geralt’s shaft not in his mouth and scoots further back to trail his fingertips over Geralt’s balls and ghost over his perineum to his hole.

Geralt shudders at the feeling, and Jaskier pops off of him with a wet sound. “Can I—?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Geralt babbles.

Jaskier disappears for a moment to rummage through his pack, and Geralt tries to slow his pulse. His heart is practically trying to thud out of his chest compared to its normal steady pace, so he sucks in a deep breath through his nose.

Jaskier returns and settles himself between Geralt’s legs. Geralt lets Jaskier position him until his knees are bent and his feet are planted on the bed on either side of Jaskier. Geralt swallows past the lump forming in his throat as a wave of vulnerability crashes down on him.

Jaskier must be able to sense his skittishness, because he takes Geralt’s hand in his and rubs soothing circles into it with his thumb. With his other hand, he rests the pad of his pointer finger against Geralt’s hole until he slips it in, a second finger quickly joining it.

Geralt can feel himself tensing up, but he tries to relax, tries to let himself give in and just be boneless.

Jaskier stretches him out until Geralt whines in anticipation. Jaskier chuckles and pats his clean hand on Geralt’s thigh. “I seem to recall you saying I was the impatient one?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier laughs again. “Fine, fine. I truly don’t understand why people think you’re so frightening.”

Geralt could list a few reasons, but he doesn’t want to kill the mood. He just grunts at Jaskier until he finally shuffles closer to Geralt and presses inside of him.

Geralt’s head thumps back against the mattress as he squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the overwhelming fullness and the way the feeling radiates through his stomach.

Are you good?” Jaskier whispers.

Geralt nods, one of his hands finding Jaskier’s and tangling their fingers together, while the other grips the sheets as Jaskier begins to thrust.

He starts out slow, almost too slow for Geralt to bear, each slide dragging inside of him and creating delicious friction while the head of Jaskier’s cock nudges his prostate.

Geralt hums.

“Let me hear you,” Jaskier says into his ear.

Geralt looks off to the side, but Jaskier puts a finger on his chin and tilts his head back. “You’ve never been shy; don’t start now.”

Geralt stays sullenly even quieter than before, deliberately slowing his breathing.

Jaskier laughs at his obstinance. “No performance review for me?”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Geralt says breathlessly.

“Who am I to say no to that?” Jaskier asks, and then there’s no more talking for a while, just gasps and moans as Jaskier slams into Geralt at a pace that leaves them both panting.

Finally, Jaskier shudders to his climax and wraps a hand around Geralt’s weeping cock to bring him over the edge with him.

Jaskier slips out of him and collapses onto the bed beside him, draping his leg over Geralt’s thigh, his fingers meandering their way again to the forest of scars that live on Geralt’s skin.

“You’re lovely. Do you believe me yet?”

Geralt gives an unimpressed hum.

“Well, lucky for you, I have the whole rest of my life to make you see reason.”

Geralt likes the sound of that.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ficlet #fanfiction #contemplative writing #5+1 fic

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

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songs that make me think of vampy and why

this is for drea and leyla ONLY thank u

daylight- taylor swift "i don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you" bc vampy loves her so much he only wants her 😔 midnight love- girl in red "I know I'm the last one you try to call but I always give in to give you it all" "your silver is my gold" bc miss chiropractor treated him terribly but he loved her with everything and would have gone back to her no matter what watch you sleep- girl in red this one is obvious: bc vampy watches bloodbag sleep :) also "the scar on your spine, you fell off a roof when you were nine" is all appreciating the tiny details about someone and that is definitely something vampy would do :( paper rings: taylor swift "i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this" line without a hook- ricky montgomery "oh baby i am a wreck when i'm without you" bc vampy loves bloodbag so much he just wants to be with her always 😔 dead girl in the pool- girl in red this one is kinda weird but i feel like bloodbag is gonna die at some point and then vampy will just be like "theres a dead girl in the pool (or wherever her corpse is laying slfjskldfjkldsj) i don't know what to do" and then he's gonna make this face

bad habits- ed sheeran bc he was just slutting around before he met bloodbag demons- imagine dragons dont make fun of me for this I KNOW but fr it's vampy renegade- taylor swift "you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody" he needs bloodbag 😔 starting line- luke hemmings i can't really explain this one but it's like how you always talk about how his happiness is overshadowed by the fact that he's a monster or whatever million dollar bills - lorde "theres nothing i want but money and time" and vampy has literally all the money and time :) solar power- lorde this is harrys hot girl anthem idk happiness- taylor swift "there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you" this is him reminiscing on miss chiropractor i wanna get better-bleachers "i didn't know i was lonely til i saw your face" "I didn't know i was broken til i wanted to change" come on 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 good 4 u - olivia rodrigo this is his fuck u song for miss chiropractor my tears ricochet- taylor swift "if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake" it's ironic innit 😌 what a feeling- one direction "what a feeling to be right here beside you now, holding you in my arms" please 😔 "everybody needs someone around" 😔😔😔 "but i can't hold you too close now" bc he has severe attachment and commitment issues :) all you had to do was stay- taylor swift "had me in the palm of your hand, then, why'd you have to go and lock me out when i let you in" omg miss chiropractor really hurt him 😔 king of my heart- taylor swift "and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for" bloodbag @ vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 cruel summer- taylor swift "I love you ain't that the worst thing you ever heard" bc he knows getting close to bloodbag will ultimately only lead to pain for everyone involved "i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you" bc he can't tell bloodbag everything about him even tho he probably wants to :( thank u next- arianna grande this is weird BUT if miss chiropractor hadn't fucked him up so much he never would have met bloodbag tear in my heart- 21 pilots again don't make fun of me for this I HAVE AN EXPLANATION "you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time but that's okay i'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine" if bloodbag fell asleep in his car he would definitely do this :( shape of you-ed sheeran "now my bedsheets smell like you" his room probably smells like honey and lavender all the time now and he's probably foaming at the mouth constantly cowboy in LA "let's skip the club, lets skip the crowd, i wanna take you on a date" bc they both hate clubs!!!!! "I'll hold your hand I'll hold the door bc that's how i was raised" he's a gentleman 😔😔😔😔 & burn- billie eilish "i'll sit and watch your car burn with the fire that you started in me, but you never came back to ask it out" idk for some reason this has vampy and miss chiropractor vibes take me to church- hozier religious trauma babes 🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼 speechless- dan+shay "i'm speechless, staring at you standing there in that dress" love 😔 yours- russel dickerson "i came to life when i first kissed you, the best me has his arms around you, you make me better than i was before, thank god i'm yours" SCREAMING AND CRYING AND SHAKING tolerate it- taylor swift "i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it" MISS ******** DIDN"T APPRECIATE OR CELEBRATE HIS LOVE MIA- anarbor "thinking about my life and everything i did wrong along the way"😔 lay low- josh turner for when bloodbag and vampy go to a cabin in the woods for a week and just love each other 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 who can save me now- anarbor "you stabbed me in the back" this one is pretty literal LSKFJLKSJFLKDSJ "you could have at least been kind enough to let me turn around" ouch 😔 dopamine- anarbor "i'm hooked on your dopamine" vampy and bloodbag ugh lie to me- 5sos this give me vampy and ******** vibes "i wish we never met, cause you're too hard to forget" "while i'm cleaning up your mess i know he's taking

off your dress" bc she probably cheated on him while they were together 😔 and he would have stayed with her if she told him she loved him, even if he knew it was a lie 😔 cotton candy- yungblud it's just a happy song with good vibes like bloodbag and vampy currently have :) small talk- niall horan i don't even have to say anything here pillowtalk- zayn "so we'll piss off the neighbors" chappy 9 vibes dancing with our hands tied- taylor swift "i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us" vampy rn 😔 once in a lifetime- one direction vampy will live a million lifetimes but he will only ever have one bloodbag 😔 holy ground- taylor swift "tonight i'm gonna dance for all that we've been through but I don't wanna dance if i'm not dancing with you" they've come so far omg 😔 since we're alone- niall horan "you can show me your heart, if you put it all in my hands no i swear no i won't break it apart" crying if i could fly- one direction "for your eyes only i'll show you my heart" rollercoaster- bleachers again i can't explain it but it makes me think of him 😔 so long- niall horan "so if we knew all along why did it take so long" good question bestie current location- LANY "i need your current location to be my current location" they're idiots in love and want to be together all the time 😔 why dont we go there- one direction "hey i don't want you to be the one that got away i wanna get addicted to you you're rushing through my mind i wanna feel the high i wanna be addicted" well hes already addicted to her blood so might as well like you lots- LANY bc they both have issues and can't say love lmao too much to ask- niall horan vampy though wanting love was too much to ask of miss chiropractor 😔 walking in the wind- one direction this one just has his vibes man 😔 heartbeat- carrie underwood "dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat" bc vampy is obsessed with listening to bloodbag's heart (fan behavior if you ask me) idfc- blackbear this is vampy and ******** bc "tell me that you love me even if it's fake" city of angels- 24kgoldn "i sold my soul to the devil for designer" yes this made me laugh the woods- olivver the kid "waking up in the middle of the woods" "don't you wanna get out of here, out of the woods" flashback to when he was dead in the woods oop "you brought me down to the river, and you pushed me in, hoping that the white rapids would challenge my ability to swim" bc... she's a murderer omg this verse is talking about leaves and i'm freaking out it fits 100% this is crazy "You pick up two handfuls You tell me they're all dried up & dead You know that's nothing like us We'll live forever instead" just a little bit of your heart- ariana grande vampy bc he loves so deeply and completely that he will give all of himself to someone even if they won't do the same my strange addiction- billie eilish bc he is addicted to her blood :) cross your mind- niall horan this is vampy and ******** "love the way you hurt me and it doesn't even cross your mind" "leaving me in pieces (literally lmao) but i swear it's worth it every time" everywhere- niall horan that scene where vampy smelled some perfume or soap or something and it made him think of bloodbag 😔 everything makes him think of her now 😔 "swear it's hard to think it's hard to breathe when you're in the air" put a little love on me- niall horan "you're the only one i need" 😔 bend the rules- niall horan VAMPY AND ******** ALL THE WAY "i'm not saying that you're lying but you're leaving out the truth" heartbreak weather- niall horan "all of my life i've been sleepwalk living, running around the same bars i've been in, it can be so lonely in this city, but it feels different when you're with me" bloodbag and vampy 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 mr loverman- ricky montgomery "i miss my lover man" vampy is probably dramatic like this all the time now that they're official 😔 bad blood- taylor swift again, just for the irony 😌 vapor- 5sos "i want to breathe you in like a vapor i want to be the one you remember i want to feel

your love like the weather all over me" they're so in love like this 😔 catch fire- 5sos "all my life i've been waiting for moments to come" he's been waiting for bloodbag his entire life 😔 beside you-5sos "i wish i was beside you" they want to be together all the time 😔 black and white- niall horan "that first night i was standing at your door fumbling for your keys then i kissed you" ARE YOU KIDDING ME not in the same way- 5sos this is vampy and ******** just bc they were so toxic lkfjskldfjsdlkjf lonely heart-5sos "and i haven't slept in days" lmao ghost of you-5sos "my feet dont dance like they did with you" thinking about when vampy danced for bloodbag and what if they break up 👁️👁️ why wont you love me- 5sos vampy at ******** 😔 he just wanted to be loved 😔😔😔😔😔 fool's gold- one direction "i let you use me from the day that we first met" "i know your love's not real, but that's not the way it feels" STOP IM SAD last first kiss- one direction "let me be your last first kiss" i want them to be together forever 😔 truly madly deeply- one direction "foolishly completely falling and somehow you kicked all my walls in" bloodbag really snuck into his heart huh 😔 fireproof -one direction "nobody saves me baby the way you do" ugh 😔 long story short-taylor swift "clung to the nearest lips long story short it was the wrong guy" (or in vampy's case the wrong vampire) gold rush-taylor swift "and the coastal town we run around has never seen a love as pure as it" bloodbag and vampy are all i want 😔 no judgement- niall horan bc vampy would never judge bloodbag 😔 daddy issues- the neighborhood again im not even gonna say anything here new angel- niall horan "the touch of someone else to save me from myself" this is vampy 😔 god is a woman- ariana grande vampy after he brought bloodbag home the first time something like this- the chainsmokers "just something i can turn to, somebody i can kiss" ALL VAMPY WANTS IS LOVE sweater weather- the neighborhood idk this song makes me think of him all of me- john legend "all of me loves all of you all your curves and all your edges all your perfect imperfections" KSFLKSDJFKLDJSFLJSDKLFJDSKL i like me better- lauv "i like me better when i'm with you" she makes him a better person 😔 sex- eden "oh no, i think i'm catching feelings" vampy when bloodbag went on a date with someone else half a heart- one direction bc bloodbag completes him 😔 theyre so disgusting 😔 only angel- harry styles "turns out she's a devil in between the sheets" woman- harry styles vampy when she was on a date with someone else bc hes a jealous moron temporary fix- one direction this has chappy 1-2 vibes a.m.-one direction when they first started falling in love and he wanted to be with her more often 😔 something great- one direction "i want you here with me like how i pictured it so i don't have to keep imagining" through the dark- one direction just all of this song 😔 happily- one direction "you know i wanna be the one who holds you when you sleep i just want it to be you and i forever" 😔 electric love- borns "i can't let you go now that i got it" canyon moon- harry styles they're just happy like this rn 😔 sunflower vol. 6- harry styles "kiss in the kitchen like it's a dancefloor" "mouth full of toothpaste" when they brushed their teeth together 😔 adore you- harry styles obviously

#music #og post

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

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Blood on Our Stage - Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Human Female Reader -Part 1 (Slight/Platonic Female Reader x Hajime Hinata)

So, this is an old fic I updated to fit these characters because I want to continue it :)

NEEDED CONTEXT FOR THIS AU: Hajime and Nagito are step brothers, (Y/N)/Reader is a human, Hajime and Nagito are vampires, and Hajime did indeed get into the Main Course at Hope’s Peak, for acting.

The paycheck… It's all about the paycheck...

You took a deep breath, reassuring yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time that year… or that hour.

Smile, s-smile. Breathe, lean into him. It has to look real, (Y/N). God… it’s a whole new level of crackhead when you stutter to yourself in your thoughts.

Dissociate.

What are we having for dinner? How many more steps ‘til that damn egg hatches? If it’s another fucking Diglett I swear I’ll go apeshit.

You shifted to your right, the most forced of grins creeping onto your cosmetic-plastered face. You let your head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder. Convincing right? Touching is convincing. Random gentle displays of affection are convincing...

By this time, you were nearly blind from the flash of some fifty or so cameras in your face, anyway, so why not just pretend that the photographers and press were blind as well?

Why not, why not?

You pretended in every other aspect of your life.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Hajime’s voice shook you out of your trance, and you turned your head, letting go of his arm, which you had grabbed out of habit. His sparklingly white teeth - sharper than the average man's - gleamed down at you, and you felt that usual pang of fear run down your spine and chill your bones. Even attached to the gums of the sweetest boy on earth, you’d never get used to the sight.

It's all a show, (Y/N), a game. Pretend. "Fangs for the fans, and all that"

How long would that farce last until people started to realize?

What had Hajime said earlier that month? You retreated into yourself, thinking deeply, trying desperately to calm the anxiety that rose with at the sight of his flesh-tearing canines...

_______________________________________________________________

"I can bare my fangs at interviews, photoshoots… you know, when the paparazzi are around. It’s what my dad wants,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Honestly, you freak out over the silliest things sometimes.” He ruffled your hair. “It will look like I'm dedicated to the role, or something like that… whatever. People will love it, trust me."

___________________________________________________________

But you never could. How could you? A monster with a secret, stupidly displaying that secret openly to the world? No… trusting meant removing little stones from that carefully built wall, which sub-sequentially meant getting hurt, and not just emotionally. You recited this mantra to yourself almost routinely; something you’d picked up from someone very close to your heart. Isn’t it funny how we steal little bits of personality from those we love most?

You knew Hajime just followed whatever his father commanded, that he’d do anything to feel like he mattered, that people cared. He’d done all this: the acting lessons, depending on daddy’s money, the unless studying and promoting himself, just to get into that stupid school and kickstart his illustrious career.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)??" Hajime tenderly brought his hand up, stroking your shoulder awkwardly. The clench in his jaw, however, wasn't friendly at all. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He was doing it for your sake, after all. You had to get through this, and he knew he had to pull you through; everything depended on it.

How could this flock of idiots not tell the “chemistry” was forced???

"Uh… o-of course! Yeah!" You smiled, a fake chuckle escaping your lips, and the crowd of reporters and internet journalists roared in front of you. Of course they did… wasn't everything the disciplined and people-pleasing boy beside you said fucking hilarious? You sighed, returning your gaze to the mass of people below you as you and your leading man sat raised on a platform behind a pretentiously high table.

Just let Hajime handle all the questions, you thought to yourself indifferently. You always did. They rarely directed them at you specifically, anyway. So much for your dream: to stun the world as an independent starlet, a crimson-hot femme fatale. It was always ‘Hinata Hajime’s doe-eyed leading lady!’, ‘Hajime’s little love interest!’, never ‘(Y/N) (L/N)... featuring Hajime Hinata!’ But... you were famous, and with no little chunk of change to boot… you should’ve been thankful… right?

So why weren’t you…?

Your eyes scanned the faces before you, and you realized that you hadn't… really looked at them until now. Yes, the usual prolific online bloggers and huge theatre junkies were there, and Mr. Hinata of course. He wouldn't miss out on one of his company’s press meetings for the world, especially with his money-making beloved son in the spotlight. He was so anal, how could anything possibly go off without a hitch unless he was there?

You wondered if the girl next to him knew he was a ravenous monster as well, but thought better of it. Of course, she didn't know. You shouldn't have even known. But you did, and it plagued you every day of your life.

Fuck... you just wanted to go back to your room and overthink in peace. It was embarrassingly uncomfortable to do so in public

Mr. Hinata sat sternly upright, with his polished, slick hair, in his polished, slick shoes and extravagantly tailored navy suit, his secretary at his side, brushing his hand unnoticeably between the chairs. His wife would never care, anyway. To their right sat a rosy-cheeked intern, spunky and full of character. Holding a clipboard between perfectly painted nails, the only thing that spoke louder than her bright smile was her neon miniskirt. She must not have known, either. No human simply knew, and still managed to look that innocent and lively. The PR girls loved press conferences, and each new show only yielded fresh publicity. This most recent show, set to premiere the following night, was a tale of romance: A vampire lord and his human lover: a medieval era period piece. Of course, for this reason, Hajime did nothing to hide his all-too-real fangs.

You loved a good historical romance, and loved being in one even more. It had always been your goal as a starting actress to take the lead in at least one period play, be it Victorian, colonial, medieval.. but... it had not turned out quite the way you planned...

A few other members of the Hinata family accompanied their revered head of the household… or was it head of the clan… coven? Whatever, it was expected. The murderous bloodsuckers always clung to their leader’s side, and could always be found lurking around Hinata’s estate, if they weren’t already crammed up his ass looking for approval.

A flash came from the reporter to the left, directly into your vision, and left you dazed.

Fuck… you seethed internally. Calm down. Calm down. The paycheck. That's it. This is almost over, anyway. Why did you always find yourself spacing out at the worst possible times? You acknowledged that it was how your body coped with the overwhelming urge to break down, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient at the minute. Nothing screamed ‘I have something to hide’ like acting shady in front of a hundred people…

You leaned into Hajime again. Sell the relationship. Sell the love.

You exhaled in exhaustion. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Hajime… you did, just, not like this. Never like this. Lying to millions of fans and the press, pretending Hajime was anything other than a brother-like figure to you just to line his father’s pockets, tore you apart more than keeping his immortality a secret. Denying you both a chance at real love for fear of scandal… you were sure that there was no phrase you’d ever grow to hate more than “The Hinata Theatre Company!” Ironic, wasn’t it, that at one point in time, you begged to be here?

You found that scoping out a crowd lowered the anxiety you had about actually being in front of them. It's funny, many people asked how you could possibly be afraid of crowds or public speaking when you were a damn Broadway-level star. Your answer was always the same: your rush of adrenaline and passion for theatre got you through a show, but anywhere else but on that stage, and a crowd turned your mind to jelly. It was different… walking out for a performance tamed the butterflies that flew around inside your stomach.

Of course, there was always the fact that your boss could tear you apart at a moment’s notice that contributed to the anxiety, but you obviously couldn't share that little bit of information with anyone. It was all so hard to process, that this kind young man beside you could be something so fearsome, that your whole life was a public sham. You’d never forget the day you’d found out… how it changed everything. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your best friend, you just shouldn’t. But how could you ever truly trust him again?

Your eyes bounced once, twice around the room.

...No

You gasped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes caught on something that caused you to jump slightly in your seat.

"You ok?" Hajime whispered, the crowd going noticeably silent for a moment. Mr. Hinata glared in your direction. A silent warning, reminding you that even one wrong move made his company look bad, and that would not end so well for you. That was the shining aspect of Hajime’s personality, that he was nothing like his father.

"Yeah, y-yeah," you spoke airily, cheeks heating. "I just slipped to the edge of my seat a little, almost fell!" You lied timidly, a small laugh.

They'll eat that shit up. Soft-spoken, innocent, clumsy girls are all the rage! Of course, Hajime picked up on the lie immediately, catching the change in tone, the skipping of your heartbeat. Being an immortal freak had its perks.

The bright-eyed boy beside you patted your arm, the crowd chuckling politely before returning to their bombardment of questions.

Your eyes flew back to the corner of the room, back to the object that had you startled in the first place. You tried to tell yourself you’d imagined it, but there was no mistake,

It was him...

Standing there in the entranceway, so dimly lit, he hid in the alcove. There was no mistaking his favorite jacket, the fabric ripped and weathered from use. There was no mistaking the intricate, almost root-like pale green veins which spiraled up his arms, told a story across his milky collarbone, tumbled down his wrists, and made him all the more intimidating. Intoxicating. There was no mistaking that full head of tousled hair, brightly standing out even in the meager lighting in that disregarded corner of the room, messy whisps branching out dangerously; an air of nonchalance and bored irreverence. Smug bastard…

And there was absolutely no mistaking the way those bright eyes illuminated his white skin in contrast, a frightening and ethereal glow shooting off of him in waves. Hajime’s chestnut-brown eyes never mimicked that terrifying iridescence, but then again, Hajime never took his life-sustaining drink from a human host. Your hands began to subconsciously shake. From fear or the itching desire to… you didn’t know, throw your arms around him, touch his cheek just once... ? You never knew with him. He was a wild thing, a beast untamable. But why the hell was he here?

Carelessly he leaned against the door frame. His tongue shot out predatorily, running along his lower lip in one fluid motion. His knuckles raised, brushing against the green of his coat and coming up to scratch the side of his face.

❘ What are you doing here?! ❘ You sent your thoughts out in waves so loud you might as well have been screaming. You knew immediately that he had taken them in, absorbing your mental cursing and inner toil like sun rays. It was a power and privilege only those of his kind who were purebred enjoyed.

He did not answer, but merely tilted his head, the corner of his lip rising in that maddening grin he always threw at you. An impish smirk hiding mischief and chaotic intentions, you were sure.

You knew it would be mere moments ‘til your flawless "boyfriend" beside you noticed his presence as well, and you feared what might become of this night that was supposed to be of celebration. Almost as if on cue, Hajime’s words halted to a stop. That evil smirk only widened, a small snort shaking the intruder’s chest.

"Nagito..." Hajime murmured through clenched teeth, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist. "He's here."

"I know..." your words shook, just loud enough for any non-human in the room to hear. Now it was time for you to be Hajime’s rock. Nagito's head bobbed, looking down at his old ripped jeans, and you saw Mr. Hinata's eye twitch before you, his vampiric hearing triggered immediately upon hearing your quiet exchange with Hajime.

Mr. Hinata followed your eyes to the back of the room, his fiery glare landing on the face of his eldest and only step-son in the shadows.

Was it too late to run back into the dressing room and never come out?

You could feel the tension in the air, a line of electricity connecting the three vampires like mental twine, ready to break at any moment. It was like watching three animals square off, sizing up their threat on a National Geographic documentary. The other Hinata coven members, all also fierce bloodsuckers in their own right, merely sat forward politely, sensing Nagito's aura but knowing better than to give him the time of day. After all, alerting the press to his presence would certainly not be a wise way to stay on Mr. Hinata’s good side.

No one outside of the family even knew about the existence of the elder brother. He was an embarrassment, a stain on Mr. Hinata’s designer tie. In the packed room, he looked so out of place, with dark, torn clothes in a sea of try-hard collared shirts and dresses. Sure, everyone who was anyone in the media world had turned up for this interview, and would also return for the opening night the next day, but everyone who was anyone never included Nagito. He made sure of that. He just had to stick out, be different, didn’t he? Even among a bunch of immortal freaks, boy… was he a freak.

Oh no, mommy remarried some rich man then got herself killed, better act like a little ungrateful little prick. Woe is me, I have super good luck that is sometimes super bad! No one understands me!!!

He sickened you, the way he did his best to destroy what he and Hajime’s family had built, all in the name of his backwards and twisted idea of “hope.” As if he didn't live like a prince because of the Hinatas’ hard work. Don’t get it twisted, you hated Mr. Hinata and would love to see the Hinata empire burn, but this company, the desire to be recognized and worth something, was all that held dear Hajime up. It was his only dream, and he deserved it. Nagito didn’t have a right to tear Mr. Hinata down if he had to wreck Hajime to do it.

He disgusted you, you’d decided months back, to make it all easier on yourself. Everything he’d done, the trouble he’d caused, the hurt he’d caused so many people. Routinely, you reinforced to yourself that you hated Nagito Komaeda

...You were disgusted by the way you… just... couldn’t hate him. It didn’t feel right. Something felt… wrong in hating him.

Your heart lurched, meeting his eyes again.

Why not? Why not just hate him, (Y/N)? Like everyone else…

Why was it so hard? You were supposed to be with Hajime. And Hajime hated Nagito. Everyone who knew Nagito hated Nagito. But… telling yourself you were anything but infatuated with that dangerous creature… was a lie. You owed everything, good and bad, to that feral, insane man.

Your nerves and the hairs on your arms pricked up like an agitated cat. Why why why? Why would he even do this? He knew what showing up here would start. He was born to start shit, to brew altercation, to cook up conflict. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps he finally came to an event to support his darling step-brother, but the way he bore his fangs when his eyes met Hajime’s said otherwise.

❘ Leave. Just Leave. You're just here to antagonize me and I won't let you be a problem. Not today. This is my day… ❘ Hajime spat mentally, and his thoughts burned through your own and, you're sure, Nagito’s.

❘ Aren’t all the days yours, Your Majesty? ❘ Nagito’s thoughts were more severe, yet more playful, taunting, careless, a venomous snarl behind every synapse pulse.

❘ ...Leave. ❘ Hajime pulsed back in warning.

❘ ....Or what? ❘ Nagito’s own ominous threat reverberated through your cranium. You pressed a hand to your temple, an angry, stinging sensation pulsating through your head. Having a vampire read one’s mind was uncomfortable enough: feeling the slight probing and perhaps needing an aspirin after, but being the third line in a purebred pissing match… it was a call you desperately wanted to hang up on. But.. humans didn’t naturally hear a vampire’s thoughts on accident. No, you were hearing this conversation because you were meant to, someone wanted you to. You had no powers of your own, but Nagito kept you trapped in this nonverbal battle, strung up betwixt two immortal minds. You brought the back of your free hand up to your nose, wiping away a stripe of red vitality that began to flow from both nostrils. The panging inside, the angry shouting in your mind only got louder.

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

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The Temple- Chapter 4

Hey y’all, here’s the 4th and final chapter of The Temple. I might come back and do an epilogue, what do y’all think?

Check out my masterlist HERE for more of my stories!

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @quietstorm-73, @ladymac82

CW: smut

Word count: 3185

N’Jadaka was shaken from his thoughts when the vibration from the Dora Milaje’s vibranium staffs went through the boat and into the river. He danced with his family as the water swirled down the drainage system his ancestors built hundreds of years ago, and the falls dried up slowly as the party commenced. Shuri noticed his return to reality and grabbed him for a dance before he could disappear into his head again. The royal family moved in sync with the drums while everyone sang in honor of their new, soon-to-be-crowned prince.

Representatives from each tribe were invited to celebrate N’Jadaka’s crowning, and each boat held about a hundred tribe members. Unfortunately the falls weren’t big enough for all of Wakanda to get to see the event up close and personal, but just like Challenge Day it would be televised to the whole country. When he found out just how many eyes would be on him, N’Jadaka grew nervous. He didn’t know how to be in the public eye as anything other than the monster he once was, but the whole country seemed to believe in him. More importantly, his family believed in him, and now he was finally becoming what he was always supposed to be. He would officially be Prince N’Jadaka, Son of Prince N’Jobu.

N’Jadaka came out of his shell the more he danced with his family, but his nerves grew again as the boats neared the edge and hovered their way down the falls, dropping the tribes off at their respective sections. He knew it was only a matter of minutes, now.

Once their boat touched down, N’Jadaka and the royal family disembarked and took their places front and center. Nakia and T’Challa stepped forward and addressed the crowd. N’Jadaka tried his best to listen, but his heart was beating so loud he couldn't hear anything else. When Nakia reached out her hand to bring him up with them, he could barely move, prompting Ramonda to give him a little nudge. He quickly snapped out of it and stepped forward, the crowd cheering then quieting again.

There he stood, wearing the same traditional shorts as T’Challa, with the Jaguar habit around his neck, his father’s ring on his finger, gold slugs in his teeth, new gold bracelet, and gold earrings in his ears with his hair braided back. He didn’t know it at the time, but he looked just like his father in that moment.

Ramonda and Shuri made their way to stand with them as a woman in purple entered with a wooden box.

“N’Jadaka,” the king turned to face him, tears in his eyes. “It has been a long journey for you, umzala, but welcome home.”

The woman then opened the box and N’Jadaka was presented with his crown. It was similar to Shuri’s with the jaguar mandible, but with black and gold beading and two golden canine teeth. Ramonda lifted the crown from the beautifully crafted Jabari wood box and cried tears of happiness as she placed it on her nephew’s head.

“It was your father’s,” Ramonda said, cupping his face in her hands.

“Come on, Auntie. You’re gonna make me cry,” N’Jadaka said, tears already running down his face.

“The teeth were my idea,” Shuri added as he pulled them both in for a hug.

The two of them stepped back after making sure his crown was secure on his head before the entire royal family turned to face the crowd, saluting them in unison and shouting, “Wakanda forever!”

He looked up at the crowd as they echoed the salute and he was able to make out tears on the faces of the people he knew. His therapist Ife had come, as had several of the other Ithemba patients from his time there. M’Baku and Okoye looked on with approval, both too proud to shed a single tear. He saw a few of Shuri’s lab assistants who had been there when he woke up and saw him at his worst staring at him with pride. He even saw the little old lady from the market and he was glad he made the choice to wear her bracelet today. Finally, his eyes landed on a group of people in all white towards the top of the falls before landing on the one person he really wanted to see.

Aisha smiled at him and blew him a kiss from afar, and it took everything in him to not reach out and catch it. T’Challa noticed his goofy smile and followed his gaze up the falls.

“Is that Aisha?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Mhm, that’s her,” he said dreamily.

T’Challa shook him out of his stupor.

“Come, cousin, you will see her later. You only have one crowning! Well, I guess you have had two, but you know what I-”

“Honey, stop rambling, lets go,” Nakia pulled T’Challa back on the boat and the rest of the family followed shortly after. They all made it back to the palace to change clothes for the feast in the prince’s honor.

-------

N’Jadaka stared at himself in the mirror when he was finally alone in his room. He looked just like his mom and he hoped she could see him from the ancestral plane. He could almost hear her going, “Look at my baby!” and a happy tear escaped his eye at the thought. He stared at his baba’s crown on his head and wondered what he had looked like in his royal garb. He never got to meet Prince N’Jobu in all his royal glory, and he made a mental note to look for pictures later.

The prince changed into an all-black suit with gold accents, still donning his crown of course, and left to join the festivities. When he made his entrance you couldn’t tell him a damn thing, he was so full of himself. He walked down those stairs like he owned them, and when he joined the rest of the family at their table he was in such high spirits he couldn’t stop smiling. His joy affected everyone at the table and even somehow reached to the rest of the party.

Wakandans love to party, so they worked their dinner off with some dancing. With A Hennessy bottle in his hand for most of the night, N’Jadaka danced the night away, tiring himself out and eventually excusing himself to get some fresh air. He set down his bottle of Hennessy and headed outside the hall towards the balcony. He stood there looking over all of Wakanda and feeling at peace when he suddenly felt a pulling in his stomach.

He turned around and there she was again, wearing a form fitting off the shoulder white dress and gold accessories that glowed even brighter on her satiny dark brown skin. Her braids had been intricately tied back into a bun with gold ribbon and golden heels on her feet. His voice caught in his throat and almost a whole minute went by before he said anything.

“You look beautiful,” he was finally able to get out after shaking himself out of his shock.

That smile he loved so much crept up her face and her dimples came out of hiding.

“Thank you, my prince. You look good in clothes,” she said cheekily, undressing him with her eyes but trying to be respectful. She couldn’t get the naked image of him out of her head.

“Well thank you,” he laughed.

“And that crown looks good on you. How does it feel?”

“Light,” he responded after thinking for a moment. He reached out and grabbed her hand before leading her over to a bench off to the side. The two of them caught up on what had been going on in their lives over the past two weeks since they saw each other last.

“Into the wall?!”

“Yeah girl, that’s just what happens being in Shuri’s lab sometimes. You know, I could show you-” he was interrupted by the king and queen coming out to the patio.

“Oh, this is where you disappeared to. You know you’ve abandoned your own party, right?” Nakia asked as she plopped down on another bench, relieving her aching feet. “And what is your name?”

“Aisha, my queen. My king,” she saluted them both and they waved her off.

“Any friend of my cousin’s is a friend of ours. So tell me Aisha, what-”

“Nope, we’re gonna go now,” N’Jadaka interrupted before the king could embarrass him. “I’ll see you later T, Queenie.” He dapped up T’Challa and kissed Nakia on the cheek before grabbing Aisha’s hand and leading her away from them.

The king and queen waved them goodbye, and as soon as the two lovebirds were out of sight they turned to eachother and snickered like children.

“Is that the one you were telling me about?” Nakia asked. She always loved gossiping with her husband.

“Mhm, he’s crazy about her. What do you think?”

“Did you see how they looked at each other? I’d be very surprised if she's not a princess by this time next year.”

Back inside, the prince and the Daughter of Bast had caught the eye of nearly everyone in the room but neither of them noticed. They danced the rest of the night and only sat down once the crowd started to dwindle.

“Want to get out of here? I think I’ve shown my face enough for one day,” the prince said as he stood and reached out his hand to pull her up from her seat.

“I was ready an hour ago, let’s go,” she said, leaving the festivities on the arm of the prince.

_______

“Wait, is this allowed?” N’Jadaka asked, breaking away from her lips for a moment. His hands gripped her hips tight while his lips travelled up and down her neck. They found their way to the edge of the bed and Aisha straddled him.

“Of course it is,” she giggled as his beard tickled her skin. She grinded her hips into his lap, removing his shirt while he unzipped the back of her dress. He tongue kissed her neck and moved up to her ear.

“Get up, then,” he said before slapping her ass with both hands. She moaned into his ear, then got up.

He kissed her collarbone lightly as he pulled her dress down her body, facing some resistance around her hips and ass. His lips travelled down to her perky nipples, remembering how sensitive they were to his touch last time. Aisha let out a moan and sat back down on his lap, grinding her bare pussy into him again.

His fingers found their way to her clit as he bit her bottom lip lightly. He tugger on it before going in for the kill, tongueing her mouth like his life depended on it. She moaned into the kiss as his fingers explored her pearl.

“Yessss,” she let out.

“Right there?” He teased. “Or right here?” He moved his fingers further down, spreading her lips and entering her slowly.

She loved the feeling of his thick fingers stretching her out so much that he added a third finger and picked up the pace. All Aisha could do was moan and cum until she was unable to hold herself up, grabbing onto his neck for support.

“Tapping out on me already?” He teased again.

“Not at all, my prince.”

He growled and laid back, picking her up and placing her on his face.

“Good, ride this tongue babygirl.” He slapped her ass and she got comfortable on her throne.

His tongue immediately wrapped around her erect clit and he let out a moan, enjoying the taste of her. His tongue was pure magic the way it moved against her, and her pussy was like a faucet for him. His thick tongue travelled down to her hole and entered her, swirling around and massaging that spot inside her that made her legs shake.

“Mmm, baby, ooh just like that. Just like that.” Her hips moved back and forth over his face as his tongue worked her insides.

His grip on her hips tightened and he let out a deep growl when he heard her call him baby.

“Call me that again.”

“Yes, baby, yes, oh my Bast, mmm.”

He sucked on her clit and her body seized while her juices rained down on his face. She slumped down and stared at him as he cleaned his plate before hopping off and right onto his dick.

“Mmm, baby, you feel so good inside me,” she said as her hips twirled like a tornado, rendering him speeechless. His hands came up to play with her nipples as she rode him and she came almost immediately.

She rode him all night, edging him while easily spinning around and periodically switching from reverse to forward cowgirl.

He couldn’t do anything but grunt and moan and hold on tight since she was in complete control. When his body began to twitch and his eyes fought to keep from rolling to the back of his head, she sped up, bouncing her ass on his pelvis while her hips moved in a circle. She leaned down so that her lips brushed his ear.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum in this pussy.”

Once again, his body obeyed her command and he released inside of her with a roar. After being teased all night, his body finally felt relief and a wave of fatigue washed over him.

Aisha tried to pull herself off of him, but the prince wouldnt let her waist go. She laid her head on his chest and they fell asleep with him still inside her.

Their nap only lasted so long before they were up fucking again. The whole night consisted of sex and pillowtalk, and didn’t make it to sleep until around 5am. They fell asleep in the exact same position they did earlier.

Aisha was awakened by the sound of a knock at the door and a stirring beneath her, but she was too tired to open her eyes. Her human pillow grunted at the disturbance, but didn’t seem too concerned until they knocked again.

“Hamba!” N’Jadaka yelled towards the door, and Aisha giggled at his early morning grumpiness.

On the other side of the door, T’Challa heard her laugh and stepped back from the door, smirking on the way back to the dining room to join the rest of his family for breakfast.

N’Jadaka had their breakfast brought to the room and the two of them lazed around all morning eating and growing closer.

“You know, it’s weird.” N’Jadaka started.

“What is?” Aisha asked, sitting up with her legs tucked under her.

“You and me. I, uh, I saw you before we met...in a daydream while I was jerkin it in the jacuzzi.”

She snorted and they both broke out into a laughing fit.

“Nah, I’m serious though, ma. Everything down to your tattoo,” he said as his hands caressed the ink up and down the side of her body.

“Maybe we knew eachother in a past llife,” her hand came out to caress his face and he leaned into it, planting a kiss on her inner wrist.

“Maybe we did...who do you think we were?”

Aisha laid down on his chest and stared at the ceiling while he ran his fingers through her braids. They stayed like that for another ten minutes before Aisha broke the silence.

“What if we were just two people who met and fell in love? You could have been a traveller from the merchant tribe and maybe you saw me from afar, swimming in the river and were drawn to me. Or maybe we were childhood friends that grew closer as we got older and eventually fell in love, “ Aisha mused.

“You said love, twice,” the prince pointed out.

She paused.

“I guess I did, huh?”

They stared into each other’s eyes.

“I know it seems early, but...after you left the Temple I couldn't get you out of my head. I feel...connected to you in so many ways.” she grabbed his hand and brought the palm to her bosom. “I already feel your heart beating in my chest. Baby, I felt your pain. I’ve never connected with anyone like that. And then when I’m around you i get this feeling in my stomach-”

“Like someone’s pulling you-”

“Yeah, that’s- wait, you feel it too?” she looked up at him with her slanted feline eyes and he gazed into them lovingly.

“Ever since the first time I saw you, babygirl.”

Their romantic moment was ruined by a tiny black furball with a shiny gold collar sneak-attacking them and landing on the bed.

“I was wondering where you were!” Aisha lifted her and snuggled her close, the kitten purring and rubbing her head against Aisha’s face. “What’d you name her?”

“Cleo, like Cleopatra,” he said through a smile, enjoying the sight of her doting on his fur baby.

“The perfect name for a little queen like her,” Aisha booped her nose then set her down to play on the bed.

“Do you have to get back?” he asked her, changing the subject but hoping she’ll say no.

“Nope, I see patrons on my own time, there’s no schedule...but I haven’t really been seeing much of anybody lately,” she admitted.

“Why not?” he sat up, concerned.

“It doesnt feel the same to me...my body reacts to you, but not to anyone else anymore. You broke my pussy.”

He fought a smirk from appearing on his face. He didn’t want her to leave the Temple because of him, but he did like knowing he was the only one her body responds to.

“I’ve been thinking about leaving…” Aisha said nervously.

“Look at me,” he said to her, tipping her chin up so that she was looking into his eyes. “Are you doing this for you?”

“Yes, I can’t provide pleasure if I’m not pleased myself. You’re the only one I want to touch me... Plus I just don't want to leave here,” she smiled up at him.

“Then don’t.”

“I’m not,” she giggled.

“No, I’m serious. I don't mean just like right now. Don’t leave, stay here in the palace with me.”

Her eyes got big and a smile grew on her face. He tilted her head so that her lips were just an inch away from his.

“You know you my princess, right?” he asked before lightly planting a kiss on her lips. She looked at him and nodded her head before going back in for another.

In that moment, N’Jadaka felt whole for the first time ever. He hadn’t experienced love and affection in such a long time, but now he can’t imagine his life without it. Not only the beautiful woman in his bed, but his family and his country as well.

The smile on his face grew wider and a tear came to his eye. This is what his life was always supposed to be, and at last he found it.

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #the temple #n'jadaka x oc #n'jadaka #black!oc

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

Text

Steve//can’t make it all alone

hey! oof, third part already. and happy 2nd christmas! i hope all of you had a wonderful day yesterday!!! and i hope you’re all having another lovely day today! stay safe everyone!

“So, do you want me to drop you off at home?” Officer Powell asks.

Christmas is officially over, but for Steve it was over as soon as you walked away. He watches the sun rise over another day...another day that you’re still out there somewhere.

Another day wasted.

While Steve was sat in a dingy room, with cream walls and ageing furniture, being asked the same three questions over and over again, he hoped his friends were out looking for you.

But when nobody interrupted the little chat he was having to let him know you’d been found, he slowly lost hope, until there was just a hole where his heart used to be.

You’re somewhere out there by yourself, instead of lying beside him in bed, already reminiscing about the previous day and ignoring calls from your parents to get up.

“Can you just take me to The Wheelers?” He mumbles, staring down at his hands. His finger nails have been chewed down to as short as they can. It’s a habit Steve picked up from you.

You’ve always been a nail biter when nervous, and Steve tried everything to get you to stop, he even learnt how to paint nails so he could do yours in the hopes it would stop you from chewing. It was also just an excuse to spend more time with you, even if it meant he had to listen to Robin complaining about being used for practice.

But instead of stopping you from ruining your nails, he ended up developing the same coping mechanism as you did. Now he’s surprised there’s any finger left at all.

“The Wheelers?” Powell asks surprised and glances at Steve through the mirror. He doesn’t bother to look back at him, but he can feel his eyes on him and he knows for a fact as soon as he gets back to the station he’s going to tell everyone that’ll listen.

“Yeah.” He nods and leans his head against the cold glass, his eyes scan the houses as they pass, hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of you. A clue as to where you’ve gone, where you’re hiding.

You’ll be standing outside The Wheelers, in your bright red jumper with your arms crossed and an annoyed expression on your face, but you’ll be safe and alive and that’s all he wants. He doesn’t care how upset you are with him, he just wants you back.

Instead he just see’s people twitching their curtains and spending far too long putting the bins out, in order to see what’s happening. News of a missing girl travels fast around town, especially because of its history, and by now, everyone will know about you and you’re broken necklace.

He knew coming back to Hawkins would end in disaster at some point. He always thought of it as taunting it, like he was saying ‘we’re back but you can’t get to us’, well now it has, whatever it is, and he hates himself for letting it happen to you.

He doesn’t know what’s scarier though, if it’s something thats crawled out of the Upside Down, or if it isn’t. There’s every possibility that an actual person could have taken you too, and neither of those options fill him with hope.

The first person he see’s when they pull into the drive is Joyce, stood outside with a cigarette in her hand while she paces. She lifts her head up at at the sound of car and quickly drops it.

He’s only seen Joyce once since he’s been back, and that was before everything went to shit. He remembers Dustin telling him over the phone, that Will and El were coming back home to spend Christmas with everyone. And that because of Nancy and Jonathan, The Wheelers had told Joyce, Will and El they could stay with them over Christmas.

The months leading up to Christmas, everyone was so excited, you included. The whole gang was going to be back together, even if it was just for a week. And he remembers how happy you looked when he told you, you didn’t stop talking about how perfect the week was going to be.

You couldn’t wait to tell them the good news going on in yours and Steve’s lives, but now within a night it’s all been snatched away. Instead of celebrating, Steve feels like he’s mourning, despite you not being dead.

“Here you go.” Powell says and Steve forces a small smile while opening the door. “Don’t go too far.” He warns and Steve looks away, slipping the car.

Joyce pulls him into a tight hug and he feels himself breathe a little. She smells like cigarette smoke and lavender and it fills him with the tiniest bit of comfort, but the way she’s hugging him, like she’s holding something back, rips it away almost as quickly as he feels it.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” She asks and looks him over. “Of course you’re not. Come on, we need to tell you something.” She says and guides him into the house and down into the basement.

He passes Karen and Ted, both of whom are busy doing who knows what. Karen is sat at the kitchen island, sorting through a stack of papers, her hair is messy and Steve thinks its the first time he’s seen her in her pyjamas. Ted stands on the other side of the room, talking quietly into the phone. He looks just as stressed as his wife, but they both stop what they’re doing when they hear footsteps and force a smile at Steve.

“I’ll bring you down some food sweetie.” Karen is the first to break the tension and he gives her a grateful, yet crooked smile.

“Thank you.” He mumbles and looks back at the floor. Karen and Joyce share a look before Joyce continues to guide him down the stairs.

The last time he came down the stairs, his head was too full to actually take anything in. Now though, it feels too busy and empty all at the same time, and so he takes a minute to actually look around.

The basement hasn’t changed since Mike moved out. Old toys are still strewn about, Dungeons and Dragons sit open in the corner, now with about twelve other things piled on top of it, but it’s still there.

It feels like he’s walking into a piece of history, frozen in time. The sleeping bags and blankets have been rolled up and thrown in the other corner of the room, and any traces of alcohol from Christmas Eve have disappeared.

The whole party is crammed into the space. Chairs have been stollen from upstairs so everyone has a place to sit, but as soon as they hear floorboards creaking they’re all standing up.

Nobody knows what or how they’re going to say it.

They thought they were done fighting monsters and losing loved ones. But it seems no matter how far they run, it always follows. Maybe its their own fault for coming back. They thought Starcourt was the final battle, but this seems like some sort of hidden ending and they’re hating every single second of it.

“Steve.” Robin starts gently and everyone, including herself hates it. Robin never speaks to Steve like that, she never even calls him Steve. It’s always dingus or some variant of it.

But the tone in her voice and the look on her face makes everyone realize just how bad this is.

“Sit down.” She says and tries guide him to the chair closest.

“I’m fine.” He shrugs her hands off him. “Have you found her?” He asks, his voice rising with each word and they look at each other.

“No, we haven’t.” Mike continues and takes step towards him. “We went out looking, and well...”

“We found goo on a tree near where her necklace was found.” Dustin sighs.

“Goo?” Steve asks, staring straight at him.

“A portal.” Jonathan says and even he’s unsure of how to say it nicely.

“To the Upside Down.” Eleven pipes up. It’s the first time she’s spoken to anyone since Steve, Robin and Annie turned up this morning. “She’s there, I can feel it.”

Everyone looks at her, their worst fears being confirmed and Steve feels the air being ripped out of his lungs.

“Are you sure?” He asks, the question surprising himself and El nods slowly.

For four years she’s worked on getting her powers back, but she’s never longed for them more than she does right now. You may not have been in her life for very long, but you certainly made an impression on her, and you’re always there when she needs you.

She can’t see you, but she knows you’re there. She can feel it and she’s never been more certain about anything. But she can also feel something else, she can’t quite place it, but something is wrong. Something isn’t quite right about you disappearing.

“Yes.” She says, louder than before and he sits down and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay.” He nods slowly and looks around. “Lets go.” He stands and starts towards the stairs.

Everyone moves at the same time, all of them not wanting him to do something stupid.

“Woah!” Dustin grabs his arm and pulls him back. Robin blocks the stairs and he gives her a look she’s never seen before. His eyes narrow and darken and his jaw clenches as he stares at her.

“Move out my way Robin.” He mutters.

“No.” She replies and crosses her arms. Annie stands beside her, also crossing her arms and they give him the ‘steve’ look making him huff in annoyance.

“Move.” He says once again forcing it through gritted teeth before trying to push past her, but she stands her ground, and suddenly he feels himself being pulled away from her.

Dustin and Mike hold his arms tightly and he quickly pushes them away. He knows they’re trying to help, but he knows where you are and it’s like they’re trying to keep him from saving you.

He also hates the way they’re looking at him, at least with Robin, it’s a look he’s used to seeing. But everybody else’s is new. It’s all sympathy and pity and he doesn’t like it. It makes him feel like they know something he doesn’t, like you’re gone forever and he’s doesn’t know yet.

“Steve.” Joyce says sternly. She holds his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. “If you go in there with nothing, you’re not going to come out again, and then what?”

He knows she’s right, but it does little to comfort him.

“So what? We just sit around and wait for he to get out herself or to just die.” He snaps back but it doesn’t seem to bother her.

“No.” She shakes her head. “We figure out what it wants. We go in prepared and we get her out.”

“But-She’s in there alone.” He cries and she wraps her arms around him, pulling him into another tight hug.

The group exchange glances, none of them know what to do. How do you comfort a friend who’s girlfriend of 4 years has been dragged into an alternate dimension that creatures pulled from hell call home.

It’s also the first time they’ve seen Steve cry, some of them ever, and its a weird sight. They all have a silent conversation, trying to get somebody to say something useful, but its no use, Steve’s sobs echo off the walls while everyone stands around awkwardly.

The top step creaks but Steve doesn’t seem to notice, Nancy shakes her head at her mom standing by the door with a plate full of food, and she nods before quietly leaving again.

“I’ve been in there, and it’s not that bad.” Will pipes up and everyone stares at him, eyebrows raised. “Okay, maybe it is that bad.” He sighs, and sits down. “But, think about it, I was only a kid when I was there and I’m fine.”

“Debatable.” Dustin mumbles and everyone glares at him.

“Shut up.” Max slaps the back of his head.

“Would you like me to tell your mom what really happened to Mews.” Will retorts, and Dustin pauses rubbing his head to stare at him.

“You wouldn’t.” He narrows his eyes at his friend.

“I would.”

“Guys.” Lucas interrupts and stares at each of them. “Not the time.”

“Yeah, get to the point.” Mike adds annoyed.

“My point is.” Will continues, making sure to glare at Dustin before looking at Steve. “I came out of there alive, and I was just a kid. Y/n, is a grown woman, who’s dealt with much worse. She’ll be fine.”

“She’s probably made whatever took her, her bitch by now.” Lucas says and forces a laugh. “You saw how she took down that demodog that was trying to make Steve it’s lunch.” He adds, and for the first time in three days Steve feels himself smile.

It’s a nice break in the tension, the entire group sharing a smile and laugh as they think of you. The story is famous in your group, even Joyce knows it.

You saved Steve’s life without knowing what was happening. And how when you’d finished beating the crap out of it, you called it a bitch and then apologized.

“Yeah, she’ll going around smashing the place up and then saying sorry afterwards.” Robin says, placing a hand on his shoulder and he feels himself relax a little.

The little moment of joy is soon gone though. Every single one of them have the same thought.

What if that’s a story no longer told with happiness. What if it’s told out of grief, as they stand around a casket all dressed in black, clinging on to the memories of a life that should have been way longer.

A very, very short life.

Steve clears his throat and moves away from Joyce.

“Okay, what do we know?” He asks, looking at each of them individually. He doesn’t want to think about what’s happened to you, what could be happening to you an-

So does the only thing he knows how to. He gets ready to fight.

“We know that something must have happened in order for it to wake back up again.” Joyce replies and gives him a reassuring smile.

“Why wake back up? Why not just come back?” Max asks.

“Because how can it come back after Starcourt.” Will replies. “We blew the whole mall up. Whatever took Y/n must have been hiding and healing. I’ve been there, I know what it’s like.”

“Okay. So something disturbed it?” Mike asks. “What though?”

“Us?” Nancy asks. “No.”She shakes her head, answering her own question. “We’ve been here countless of times, so what’s so different this time?”

“Y/-” Steve starts but Jonathan interrupts him, and he feels himself shrink. Maybe its a good thing he didn’t tell them, it just doesn’t feel right without you.

“Nothing has happened here in years.” He says. “Or maybe it has, and we just haven’t noticed.”

“My mom says the only difference is the weather.” Mike shrugs.

“Yeah, my mom says the same thing.” Dustin agrees and Steve sends him a confused look.

“What do you mean the weather?” Annie asks.

She’s still piecing together the story that Robin and the rest of the gang told her while Steve was at the police station. The words Upside Down and mind-flayer keep coming up, and don’t get her started on El and her lost powers. That’s something she’s locked in a box for future her to deal with.

“Really? Out of everything I’ve told you, you’re confused about the weather?” Robin teases, and she rolls her eyes at her.

“Shut up.” She nudges her ribs gently. “Has anyone else’s parents noticed a change in the weather?” She asks and slowly, everyone nods their head.

“It does seem a bit windier.” Joyce says. “I’ve lived here my whole life, I know what winter is like here, but this time...its different.”

“Could that not be because you moved though?” Dustin asks.

“No. I know this town like the back of my hand. Something’s off.”

“Listen.” Steve snaps. They’re getting absolutely no where with this conversation and he knows it. “I don’t care about the wind or the rain or the snow. I don’t care what’s taken her and why. I just want to get her back.” The effects of not sleeping for 48 hours seem to be catching up with him. Tiredness hits him like a truck and he feels it settle in his bones.

“Steve.” Robin starts.

“What?” He mumbles annoyed.

“Why don’t you go to sleep.” She suggests gently but he just glares at her. “Or have something to eat.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “The quicker we come up with a plan, the quicker we can get her back.”

“True.” Robin starts. “But we don’t know how long it’s going to take. And you’re going to be no help if you’re falling asleep and starving.” She finishes and he hates that she’s right. But the need to save you far outweighs the need to eat or sleep. He’d go for years without if it meant getting you back.

‘its all your fault’ The little voice says again and with each day it grows louder, Steve sometimes feels like its the only thing he can hear.

It is his fault. It’s all his fault, and whether you do come back or not, he’s going to carry this guilt around with him for the rest of his life.

“Please Steve.” She says, she’s clearly worried, not only about the friend that’s missing, but the one sat right in front of her.

“Have some rest and while you’re asleep we’ll keep planning.” Annie finishes and places a hand on Robin’s arm.

“We’ll even go out looking again.” Mike says.

“We’re not going to give up just because you’ve fallen asleep.” Dustin smiles. “We promise. We love Y/n, just as much as you do.” He thinks about it for a few minutes, before finally agreeing.

“I’ll eat, but I’m not sleeping.” He says and everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief.

“Okay.” Joyce nods, her motherly instincts kicking in again. “Why don’t you go sit over on that sofa, and I’ll get you some food.” She smiles kindly and he nods, before pushing himself up and towards the sofa.

Everyone moves around him. Joyce goes upstairs, and is quickly followed by Mike and Jonathan.

Dustin, Lucas, Max and Will huddle in a circle, dragging their chairs with them and Steve listens to their quiet mumbles about the upside down and the mind flayer.

Nancy, Robin and Annie stay by the staircase, he know’s they’re hanging around just in case he tries to make a run for it, and their not to subtle glances at him don’t make it any less obvious.

And El sits alone in the corner closest to Steve. She stares at a picture of you smiling along with the rest of the gang and Steve’s heart aches at the sight. Everyone is grinning at who he assumes is Joyce, and Steve stands beside you, his arm slung over your shoulder, his smile as bright as yours.

Steve watches her close her eyes as she desperately tries to find where you are. But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to focus. It’s been four years since she lost her powers, they’re not going to miraculously come back.

He can feel the fatigue settling even deeper into his bones making him feel heavier than he already does. But every time he closes his eyes, all he can picture is you, scared and alone and calling out for him.

Upstairs, he can hear Joyce and Karen talking quietly as they walk around the kitchen and every so often he hears Jonathan and Mike join in.

Steve just sits.

He sits and stares straight ahead, imagining the worst.

You could be dead, or dying, or even worse you could not be you anymore. You could have turned into whatever Billy was. That thought alone is enough for him to loose his breath and he chokes on a sob, his head falls into his hands as he quietly cries.

He’s never going to see you again.

Tears stream down his face and stain his jeans, but he doesn’t bother to wipe them away, what’s the point. He’s been wearing the same clothes since Christmas Eve, they already smell like the stale coffee thanks to the police station, so what’s a few tears? And it’s not like he hasn’t had worse on his clothes, blood and puke come to mind.

“Steve?” Nancy’s voice is quiet as she sits next to him.

Robin and Annie have moved to sit with the kids to talk about what to do. And Nancy was going to join them, but as soon as she looked at Steve, she decided she could try and be helpful elsewhere.

You would never forgive her if she let something happen to him while you were gone. After the events of 1984, you and Nancy became rather close, despite what had happened between her and Steve. All of you knew what had happened between them, however painful, was in the past.

Or at least that’s what she thought. Of course she knows Steve feels nothing for her other than a platonic love, but it must have hurt to be called the name of his ex. Especially when everyone knows how messily that ended.

Nancy can’t help but share some guilt with Steve. It was her name that caused you to storm off in the first place, and even though she knows she can’t go back in time and un-do everything, she really wishes she could.

She hands him a warm mug of coffee and he takes it but doesn’t look at her, he just stares at the brown liquid and feels himself sink deeper into his thoughts. He didn’t even notice her leaving to get one, too wrapped up in his own guilt and depressing thoughts.

“She’ll be okay.” She tries her best to comfort him but he just scoffs at her and takes sip.

“How do you know that? She’s in there, with god knows what running around.” He seethes. “And what are we doing? We’re sat around drinking coffee and talking about our feelings.”

“We’re not talking about or feelings Steve.” She sighs and watches Dustin draw on an old map.

“I know, but I know you’re going to talk about yours.”

“I’ll let that pass under the circumstances.” She rolls her eyes. “But when Y/n comes back...and she will come back. I will kick your ass.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He replies and a small smile twitches at the corner of his lips. She feels the weight in her chest lighten a little, but his only gets heavier.

He shouldn’t be sat here laughing with his ex girlfriend, while his current one is lost out there.

‘its all your fault. she wouldn’t be in there if it wasn’t for you’

“Do you think it’s my fault?” He asks and everyone pauses what they’re doing.

“No.” Nancy shakes her head and forces a smile.

“It’s not your fault Steve. You didn’t ask for her to be taken did you?” Robin asks.

“Well no, bu-”

“And did you tell her to go in there?” Dustin interrupts.

“No, but I-”

“And did you know what would happen to her before having that argument?” Jonathan adds while walking down the stairs. It’s the first time in what feels like a long time he’s said something remotely nice to him, and it does make him feel a little better.

“No.”

“Well then it’s not your fault.” He finishes and hands him a plate of food.

“Thanks.” He mumbles and stares down at the very late Christmas dinner.

This isn’t how he imagined he’d be eating his Christmas dinner this year, he imagined you beside him. Both of you in matching jumpers and paper crowns, telling each other stupid jokes out of crackers that no one but the two of you find funny.

“I miss her.” Robin says out of no where and everyone looks at her. Steve watches in shock as her lip wobbles and tears form in her eyes, he’s never seen Robin cry before, and when you come back, he’s so going to tell you that you made The Robin Buckley cry.

“Me too.” Dustin nods, giving her half a hug. Annie sits on the other side of her and leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yeah. Me too.” Everyone else agrees, sad smiles taking over their appearances.

“What am I going to do without her?” Steve sighs and places the plate on the floor.

“You’re not going to have to do without her.” Jonathan replies.

“And, I think you’re doing pretty well right now.” Robin adds and he lets out a bitter laugh. “Okay, maybe you’re doing okay then. But that’s still better most.” She finishes, sending him a toothy grin and a small smile flickers on his lips.

“Thanks.” He rolls his eyes.

“No problem.” She replies. “Now eat your food.” She adds, giving him a stern look.

“I will in a minute.” He slumps down in the sofa, his back hits the soft furniture and he lets out a sigh. Everyone goes back to talking quietly amongst themselves, although this time, they’re talking about you and he feels himself smile. It’s both happy and sad, but it’s real, and thats all that matters to him.

His eyes flutter shut as he hears Will come down the stairs, and the last thing he hears before he falls asleep is Robin...

“Okay, what do we do?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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blueaura · 4 years

Text

Don’t Get Caught

A/N: Hey everyone, hope y’all are doing well. I wrote this little fic one-shot thingy for @crashdevlin‘s 3k review challenge. I got prompt #13. Big congratulations to Cassie for hitting 3k followers! Hope Dean somewhat likes this fic.

Summary: Sam and Dean are hunters, but what if Y/N doesn’t want to be one?

Word count : 2.9k

“What’s for dinner tonight? If you say burgers again, I will tell Sam and then you’ll have to little with the ‘eat healthy’ lecture again.” You walked into the kitchen, peering over Dean’s shoulder to look at what he was making. “As much as I love your burgers, we’ve had them four days in a row and if I see another one today, I’m gonna actually throw up.”

“I liked it better when you didn’t snark back. Now it’s like living with teenage Sam all over again. Teenagers are the fucking worst,” Dean lightly quipped back giving you a look that confirmed he was just teasing. “And it’s chicken pasta tonight, you little monster. I can switch things up every once in a while.”

“You liked me better when I was too scared to offend you in case you threw me out?” you deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow at Dean. He gave you a look. He clearly didn’t appreciate your humour regarding your rough start with them.

You met Sam and Dean on a hunt. They were appalled that a 15-year-old was hunting alone and basically forced their way into your life. Dean, specially, refused to leave you alone, no matter how many times you pushed him away. Your parents had been hunters and not the most affectionate people, so when pushing the Winchesters away had failed and they had successfully wormed their way into your heart, you were so scared that the first real family you had was going to abandon you if you weren’t enough, you didn’t dare place a toe out of the imaginary line you had created for yourself. It took a long time for them to get you to open up to them and come out of your shell. You never knew why they chose you. From what you knew, they had met other hunter kids before but for some reason, instead of pawning you off to the first responsible adult who could keep you safe, they welcomed you into their life and their home. Your home, you reminded yourself.

“Pasta sounds great. You’re gonna make me fat with all your cooking you know. I’ll have to start running with Sam. I hate running with Sam,” you whined, changing the subject before Dean could start reprimanding you.

“Everybody hates running with Sam,” Dean said, letting go of your previous comment. “And you’re healthy, which is all that matters. I don’t want you thinking about getting fat, you do enough exercise to balance out your eating habits.”

You rolled your eyes. For a guy who claimed to hate ‘chick-flick’ moments, Dean Winchester sure initiated a whole lot of them. Dean lightly clipped you in the back of your head when he saw you shrugging of his words of wisdom. You could see he was gearing up for another lecture. He was such a dad.

“Where’s Sam anyway?”

Dean clearly knew what you were doing but he let you have your moment of victory anyway. If he had learned anything in the past 2 years with you, it was to pick his battles. So, he let it go. For now.

Sam came back in time for dinner. It was one of Dean’s new rules. If you were not on a case, dinner was family time and everyone had to eat at the table. Sam agreed. While Dean acted more like a dad than Sam, the younger Winchester was just as bad. You remembered when Sam accidentally found the pack of condoms in your room. You winced at the memory. There had been a lot of yelling, followed by an awkward conversation about being safe. It was traumatic for all parties involved and you both mutually decided not to tell Dean. If Sam overreacted, you definitely never wanted to see Dean’s reaction.

Being scared of Dean’s reaction was one of the main reasons why you didn’t tell him about the play you were taking part in for school. Yes, you had to go to school. Apparently, high school was important. While you hated school and people in general, you fell in love with theatre. Signing up for drama club had been a blessing for you. Pretending to be someone else and telling stories and being on stage was the only thing that got you through worrying about the brothers when they were out on hunts. But you knew you had to be a hunter. It was the family business after all. So, you never told Sam or Dean what you were doing.

You knew they were getting suspicious. The practices for the play were getting more intense and you could only use the excuse of having detention or staying back to study in the library so many times. For one, they knew that after five consecutive detentions, the school called the parents or guardians, and B – they knew how much you hated school. Just the fact that you were staying a minute more than you had to was a big red flag, specially when you had a perfectly good library at the bunker.

You still had to think of an excuse about going out at night on the final day. While the dress rehearsal was in the afternoon, the actual production was late in the evening and you knew there was no way you could sneak out of the bunker.

While you were pacing in your room trying to think of ideas, the brothers were contemplating your recent behaviour in the kitchen while they did the dishes.

“I don’t know man; she’s been shifty all week. I’m starting to get the feeling she wants us out of the bunker. She keeps bringing up every possible lead for a case. When was the last time Y/N purposely looked for a potential hunt? She hates being left alone. Something’s going on.”

Sam knew Dean was right. This was unusual behaviour for you. Even when you were mad at them, you never hid things. Coupled with all your lame-ass excuses for staying back at school, Sam had a feeling Dean was onto something.

“You don’t think something’s off at school, do you?”

Sam knew all about peer pressure. He also knew Y/N was extremely strong willed but so was he and he still got roped into smoking weed in college. Not that he thought Y/N would ever get into drugs, specially the heavy kind but there was always the niggling sensation at the back of his head going ‘what if?’.

“She would have told us if there was something bothering her,” Sam tried to sound confident but he could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

Dean paused where he was drying the dishes, looked over at his brother and decided enough is enough.

“Here’s the thing – there’s trusting someone and just being plain stupid. Y/N is definitely hiding something and I’d rather she be mad at us for invading her privacy than regret not stepping in sooner. So, seeing how she desperately wants us out of the bunker next week, we’re going to go out of the bunker. Find a fake case Sammy, we’re going fake hunting.” Dean managed a nonchalant grin as he went back to his dishes. Sam contemplated for a moment and reluctantly agreed.

It was 2 days before the play and you still hadn’t figured out how to sneak out. You contemplated telling them you had a sleepover or a party to get to but they knew you well enough to know you didn’t get along with your classmates. If only you could dumb yourself down enough to socialise with them. You sighed and mindlessly browsed through the men of letters library.

“Hey kiddo, we found a hunt a couple of towns over. Looks like a simple salt n’ burn. You gonna be okay on your own for a couple of days?” Sam’s voice jerked you back to reality and when you registered what he was saying, you barely managed to keep yourself from squealing out loud.

Your giddiness must have been obvious as Sam and Dean shared one of those looks – the ones you hated – and asked you if you were alright.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. And yes, I’ll be good by myself. When are you guys leaving?”

If they had any second thoughts about their plan before, your answer just got rid of them. You were never this excited about a hunt and you always, always asked about every little detail.

“We’re probably gonna leave tonight, drive overnight to avoid the traffic. So, I for one am gonna catch some zee’s while I can. Unlike Disney princess hair over here, I won’t be getting sleep on the road.”

“You know that wouldn’t be a problem if you’d let me drive for a change!”

“Hell no, I ain’t listening to your classical crap.”

You shook your head at their antics as they walked away. Finally, things were going your way.

Things were not going your way. The brothers had left the previous evening (although they didn’t go far, but you didn’t have to know that). The day of the play had arrived and you were already nervous when you heard that the male lead was sick and his understudy had to step in. You hated him. He was one of those cocky high school boys who thought they were the shit. You had to reluctantly admit that at least the guy wasn’t the worst actor in the world. Although, if he kept hitting you with his cheesy pickup lines, you were going to stab him. Hard.

Dean and Sam spent the night at a motel before making their way back to the bunker after you’d left for school. After taking a quick shower and grabbing fresh clothes, the brothers took one of the more inconspicuous cars in the bunker basement and parked outside the school. They knew you would recognise the Impala immediately but you’d never really been interested in the other cars, much to Dean’s dismay.

“Never thought we’d be staking out Y/N,” Dean said wryly.

“Well, at least everything is normal for now. Maybe we were wrong and she’s just being a teenager you know.”

Dean doubted it but didn’t say anything. They waited for Y/N to come out when school finally ended but she never did. Sam even scoped out where the stoner kids were and she wasn’t there, much to his relief. Finally, Y/N came out 3 hours after school ended, looking extra tired but otherwise alright. The brothers shared a confused glance but sighed in relief. At least she wasn’t doing anything illegal.

You went straight home and fell asleep to recharge before your performance tonight. You got up in the evening, one hour before you had to be at school to calm your nerves.

Sam and Dean were confused. Y/N had done what she would normally do on any other day. Maybe she stayed in school for a longer time than usual but other than that, she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.

Dean suddenly had a horrifying thought.

“Dude, if this whole thing is about a boy, I’m gonna actually kill her.”

Before Sam could reply, they saw Y/N leaving the bunker.

“It’s late. Where the hell is she going? And what the hell is she wearing?” Dean’s voice grew more incredulous with each question. “If she’s sneaking out to a party, I’m grounding her. I don’t care how old she is.”

They followed her without being seen. To the school? What the hell?

There was a lot of buzz at the school despite the late hour. Confused, the brothers got out of their car and followed Y/N inside, making sure to stay a few feet behind her.

“Is it just me or are there a lot of adults here?” Dean asked.

Then they saw the poster outside the hall Y/N had just entered. Rock Hills presents ‘West Side Story: the musical’. Sam stood there gaping at the poster and Dean had never been more confused in his life.

“What the hell?”

“I don’t know”

“Seriously. What the hell?”

“I don’t know!”

“Come on. Let’s go in,” Sam nudged his brother in the direction that the other parents were going.

The host said something about the show starting in 5 minutes but they ignored him and made their way backstage. They located Y/N quite easily. She was standing in a corner, mentally psyching herself. They made their way towards her and gently tapped her on the shoulder.

You were just minding your own business in the corner of the room before the show, going through the whole spiel of ‘why did I do this’ and ‘holy shit I’m gonna throw up’ when you felt a hand tap your shoulder. Startled, you jumped and turned around to glare at whoever disturbed you, when you froze. Sam and Dean were staring at you incredulously and had your legs been working you would probably have hightailed out of there.

“Fuck,” you softly exclaimed under your breath.

“Something you wanna share with the class kiddo?”

You couldn’t make out the exact emotion in Dean’s voice but it didn’t sound like anger. You held onto that and realised you had to be on stage in less than sixty seconds.

“Uhm, hold that thought,” was what you said instead. You went to peek through the curtain. Yep, 45 seconds.

“I love you! No time to explain – gotta go!”

With that you rushed on stage, more terrified than ever. That melted away once you started performing though. You forgot all about your worries for the duration of the play. You acted, sang and danced your heart out and when the thundering applause reached your ears and you saw the brothers in the audience cheering you on along with everyone else, you had a feeling it would be okay.

You were backstage again, taking off your stage make-up and gearing up to go face the music as it were. You were scared of the brother’s reaction and even you could tell you were procrastinating. Most of the other cast had left and it was time for you to leave too.

They were standing outside, leaning against a car. The first thing that stupidly came out of your mouth was – “Where’s baby?”

Dean laughed. A full belly laugh. You felt some of your anxiety leave your body.

The three of you looked at each other. Sam was the first one to make a move. He pulled you in for a tight hug, almost lifting your feet off the ground, kissing the top of your head.

“You were incredible, kiddo.”

You buried yourself into his chest as your eyes filled with tears of relief. Of acceptance.

“Thanks moose,” Your reply was muffled against his chest which moved with silent laughter at the nickname.

You finally pulled away from Sam when Dean cleared his throat. He looked at you blankly for a moment and dread filled your entire being.

“You ever pull something like this again, I will kick your ass.”

For a second you thought he was talking about the play and your heart dropped.

But then he pulled you into a hug too. You tensed, confused.

“Dammit kid, I don’t like being worried about you. Stop doing shit like this. Why the hell didn’t you just tell us you were taking part in this thing? You’re not nearly as good at the hiding thing as you think you are. I was terrified something shady was going on with you.”

Although he was almost yelling in your ear, you sagged against him as the tension seeped out of your body. This time you actually did start crying. Dean just hugged you tighter and Sam gently rubbed your back.

After a few minutes Dean pulled back a little and put both hands on either side of your head.

“You never have to hide anything from us. By now I like to think I know how your mind works and I can guarantee that I will never be mad at you if you want to pursue anything other than hunting. You’re not our kid because you’re a hunter Y/N/N. You’re family, regardless of your job. Clearly I’m not doing a very good job at this parenting thing if you don’t know that already.”

You furiously shook your head, hiding your face in his shirt again.

“You’re the best dad anyone could ask for. You both are.”

Your words were barely audible and your face was extremely red but the brothers still heard you and grinned at each other over your head.

“We love you too, kiddo.” Dean kissed your forehead and started walking towards the car, pulling you along.

“What do you say we get some ice cream and celebrate at the bunker? We could watch some movies, make some popcorn? You know what I’m in the mood for Sammy? West Side Story,” Dean grinned as you groaned into his shoulder.

The brothers continued to tease you as you walked to the car. You finally felt happy.

“But seriously guys, where is baby?”

#supernatural #spn fanfiction #cassies3kreviewchallenge #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam x reader #dean x reader #Cee tries to write

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

02 | upside down; steve harrington

Notes:

I suck so bad. I meant to post these before I left to go on my little trip and life got hella busy. But, I didn't get around to it. BUT BUT.. I am now. They're not really that edited, so yeah. I was happy with what came out, despite this turning out to not be a slow burn type thing at all like I originally wanted. So for all those hoping for a slow burn, oopsies?

OH.. And before I forget, chapters one, two, three and potentially four take place BEFORE the actual series starts. ;P

Summary:

She moves back to Hawkins and manages to turn his life completely upside down. In the best of ways.

But how will everything play out between them? Also, can they handle all the weirdness ahead? We shall see.

Warnings:

LOOSE CANON COMPLIANCE AT BEST, TOTAL DEVIATION AT WORST - this is just an up front catch all because sometimes, things happen that I don’t particularly care for (the senseless death of Barb, anybody?) and if you’re one of those canon only people, this is here to warn you that this is not the fic for you. LANGUAGE, OCCASIONAL GORE, MONSTERS / FANTASY ELEMENTS, TEENAGE DRAMA AND SHENANIGANS - Obviously, teenagers are going to do stuff. They’re at that point in their life where not every decision they make is the best one. So if you’d rather skip over this kind of thing (teen drinking, fighting, etc) then yeah.. you’ve been warned. THIS IS NOT A SLOW BURN, I REPEAT NOT SLOW AT ALL / EVENTUAL FILTHY GOOD NESS - because lets be real.. we’re all wondering when we’re gonna drop the plot and get to the good stuff. When this chapter occurs, I will flair it with an M. In the meantime, if you’re not into slow burn or mutual pining, then you’re probably not going to care about this.

Other Parts

[ SOUNDTRACK | part one]

Other Stuff

[ FAQ - TAG LIST DOC ]

Tagging:

There’s nobody on my list yet but… If you wanna be tagged for this, tell me pls. It will make me overjoyed.

Throwing out a no pressure tag to @RAMPAGEWRITING and @TWISTNET as well as @CHASINGEVERYBREAKINGWAVE just because. No pressure though bbies!

TWO.

Monday came with no sign of Steve. Then Tuesday. By Wednesday, I felt like I was about to lose my mind. Still no sign of him.

It was now Thursday afternoon. And honestly, I’d put the whole thing out of my head. Started to convince myself that I’d been right about Steve Harrington and his intentions after all. Nana Ginger had gotten Jonathan to come and help out by bussing tables in the dining area for an hour or two so I could go over the books for her with no interruptions. When I caught sight of Steve’s silver BMW pulling into the parking lot, I was perched atop the counter in the gas station doing just that.

With Billy Idol blasting quietly from a little boombox nearby.

I raised a brow when instead of coming in like usual, Steve wandered around back. Out to where Nana's boyfriend Hank was working in bay 3 of the garage behind the place.

“Oh. Oh no. Steve, why the hell…” I muttered to myself. Sitting the ledger to the side as I tiptoed carefully to the door that lead out into the garage from the front of the buildings attached. I pressed my ear against it, trying to listen.

All I could really make out was Hank laughing out loud. And Steve asking what was so funny about what he’d apparently asked. Then Hank telling him verbatim, that he didn’t know if he could trust him as far as he could throw him while pointing out that he’d been a teenage boy once too and that he knew exactly where this was all heading.

My breath caught in my throat. I waited on Steve to offer some form of rebuttal. Seconds later, he finally did. “ You’re actually completely wrong about me, sir. With all due respect.”

“If you can get her to say yes to a date in the first place, kid, by all means. But if you hurt her, you’re not gonna have anywhere to hide. We clear, kid?” Hank said this as loud and as plain as day. Clearly enough I could hear it completely through the door separating the two areas.

Steve muttered something else I couldn’t quite hear and in a mad scramble that had Jonathan nearly doubling over in laughter, I was trying to perch myself back on top of the counter at the front of the gas station. Balancing the ledger on my lap. Trying to force myself to concentrate on running numbers.

My reading glasses started to slip down the bridge of my nose and swearing, I pushed them back up. Eventually taking them off to unfocus my eyes and give them a little relief from strain. Jonathan spoke up from nearby.

“Hear anything interesting just now, Jen?” he gave me a teasing smirk and I grumbled, playfully flipping him off as I gave a soft smile. I nodded. “Yeah. I guess I have to at least consider saying yes to Harrington’s constant asking me out. I mean… takes a brave guy to talk to Hank.”

“You’re definitely not wrong there.” Jonathan muttered, chuckling quietly. Digging around in the pocket of his apron and tossing me a cassette tape. Smirking. “I made it during the countdown last night.”

“Oh?” I turned the cassette over in my hands, smiling. “I’ll put it in right now, give it a listen while I’m doing the rest of the books. Hey, do you need somebody to give Will a lift to Mike’s on Saturday?”

“If you don’t mind?” Jonathan asked.

“Not at all.” I grinned, adding quickly, “I’m supposed to drop Dustin Henderson off there too. Figured since they’re going to the same place and I’m gonna hang out with Nancy for a while, why not?”

“Thank you.” Jonathan gave a grateful smile and an idea kind of formed. I smiled and mentioned casually, “Ya know, Jon.. If you really want to thank me.. You could talk to Nancy sometime.”

Jonathan eyed me with a raised brow. I held out his mixtape and added, “She loves The Clash.”

“Really?” his brow raised.

“Just take my word for it, Byers.”

“ You’re sure you don’t mind me giving her this?”

“Why would I? I told you to, silly.” I laughed, shaking my head. Jonathan was being called to the back dining area again by my Nana, so he hurried off and I stood, stretching. Slinking down the aisles of the gas station, over to a cooler.

I grabbed myself a Diet Pepsi and dug around in my pocket for the money to put in the register to cover it. Once I’d popped the top against the counter, I settled back on top of it, getting back to balancing the books.

I heard a throat clearing from the doors about ten minutes later. The smell of cheeseburger and french fries wafted straight to my nose, making me groan quietly as my eyes fixed on Steve and then promptly lowered to the grease stained brown paper bag he held in his hands as he grinned at me, nodding to the glasses perched on my nose.

“Fuck.” I scrambled to take them off. Steve stepped into the gas station completely, walking towards me. A teasing gleam in his eyes as he shook his head. Stopping on the other side of the counter, in front of me. “You don’t have to do that, Jennie. I’ve seen you wearing glasses before, remember? The red framed ones you had in kindergarten.”

I cringed, laughing a little. Leaning in slightly. Gazing at him almost helplessly as the bits of conversation I’d overheard between him and Hank out in the garage earlier replaying in my head.

Remembering that tonight, if he asked me on a date yet again, I was going to say yes. And not just because of some silly dare given to me by Barb and Nancy. Because I couldn’t keep fighting Steve Harrington off the way I had been if I wanted to, to begin with.

I was leaning closer where I sat. It occurred to me when Steve chuckled quietly. Stepping between my legs, the way they dangled over the counter on his side. He sat the grease stained paper bag to the side and he bit his lip, gazing up at me.

“Your grandma told me to come and drag you out of here. She told me to tell you not to worry about waiting the tables, she’s trying to help Jonathan get some extra cash on the side. She also said don’t argue.” Steve flashed me another one of those charmer grins and I swallowed hard. My mouth opened and closed for a second or two because I just couldn’t think of anything clever to say. Weird, because normally, I have plenty to say. Constantly.

Out of habit, my fingers drifted up to the dainty cursive nameplate that hung on the silver chain around my neck. I toyed with the lettering as I pretended to mull it over, just to be slightly difficult.

So I could feel better about giving in when I inevitably did.

“C’mon, Jennie.” Steve pleaded. Eyes locked on mine. Gaze dropping briefly to my lips and lingering there just long enough that I could feel my breath when it caught in my throat.

I finally managed to get my mouth and brain working in tandem and licking my lips as I gazed at him, I muttered quietly, “It’s Jen.”

“Maybe I like Jennie better.” Steve leaned in just a little. A teasing gleam in his eye and a flirty tone to his voice as it dropped lower. Quieter.

And when Hank’s throat cleared from the door between the garage and the front of the building, I wanted to puddle into a pile of goo in the linoleum tile.

“Interruptin somethin, Jaybird?” he asked the question so casually.

Steve looked like a deer in headlights. He pulled away just a little and despite myself, I pouted.

Satisfied that he’d interrupted things between Steve and I, Hank smirked a little, dragging an oil stained hand over shaggy brown and gray hair. Gazing at us both. Giving Steve that universal gesture that clearly spelled out “I’m watching you, kid.” before going to a cooler to grab himself a six pack of beer, counting out the correct change in bills and coins and handing them to me.

I grabbed hold of Hank’s hand. “Nana is gonna have a fit. I know that’s not super glue I see holdin skin together, sir.”

“It is, Jaybird. Because if I don’t get that damned Chrysler off my lift, I’m gonna burn her to the ground.”

“Oh Hank.” I shook my head, clucking my tongue at him. Digging around for antiseptic and a bandage, holding it out to him expectantly as he withdrew his hand. He chuckled and shook his head. “It’ll be fine, kid.” he waved away the antiseptic and the bandage and made his way into the garage area again, making me shake my head.

Taking the time to pull myself together decently enough that I wasn’t a stammering mess when I glanced at Steve again.

“C’mon. Please?” he asked again.

I tapped my chin, pretending to think about it. Slipping off the counter. By this time, he’d stepped in close all over again, so me slipping off the counter had us body to body. His hand settled in the curve of my hip and I barely restrained a gasp.

“Okay. Alright. I’ll leave with you.”

He grinned brightly. Holding the door open for me after I clocked out and placed my timecard in the slot with my name on it. I ducked my head into the dining area and my Nana’s only response was to smirk and wink at me. Shooing me out of the diner.

“Get her outta my hair, kid!” my Nana smiled as she called out to Steve, who was standing right behind me. His hand at my lower back. The second I realized this, I could feel myself burning up all over. Just the simplest touch.. Felt comforting. Intimate. And me, being of dirty mind, well.. Me and my dirty mind, we took that and ran.

Jesus Christ, of all the times for my hormones to manifest, it’s now? When I’m trying to break 2 prior generations of questionable romantic choices? I wanted to shake my head at myself. I reminded myself calmly that just because my Nana and my mom did the things they did, that didn’t mean I had to cave in and repeat. I am my own person, after all. And apparently right now, that person is giddy with… Thoughts.

“Gladly, ma’am!” Steve called back, laughing.

He pushed open the door and we stepped outside. When he opened the passenger door, I sank down into the seat, leaning back against it a little. Steve wandered around to the driver side, getting into the car. Starting it.

“Where are you taking me?”

He chuckled. “ I think you’ll like it.”

“Steve.” I pouted, “A hint?”

“It’s outside.” was literally all he’d tell me.

“Well that really narrows it down.” I teased with a laugh.

He parked at this old park we all used to play at after school. Just as the sun was starting to go down.

We got out, wandering over to an old picnic table. Sitting on top of it, digging around in the bag for our food.

“So.. That dumb carnival is this weekend. Starts tomorrow night, I think.” Steve hinted after a few minutes. I nodded to where carnival workers were already setting up a midway a few feet away from us. Taking a bite of my burger, I mentioned casually, “I thought about going. But Nancy’s grounded again and Barb’s got that date with some guy Logan.”

“You could go with me.” Steve chuckled as he said it.

I smiled, taking another bite. “I could.”

“Would you?” he asked a few seconds later. Adding quickly, “Tonight isn’t a real date. Tomorrow. That would be.” flashing me that charmer smirk.

I nodded. Smiling as I spoke up. “ Yeah. I will. Hey… since I don’t have to go back to the diner…” before trailing off and gazing down at my legs . Reminding myself to have boundaries and restraint. But all the mental reminders in the world just weren’t cutting it. At all.

He reached out, curling his fingers beneath my chin. Making me look up at him. “What were you going to say, Jennie? You can tell me.” he coaxed. Biting his lip as he gazed at me intently.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go swimming with me. There’s this little place out by my Nana’s out in the woods I go to swim…” I gave a soft laugh. I had to laugh at myself, it was pretty much all I could do.

Look at me. Going overboard.

“Yeah.” he nodded, smiling. We finished our food, and after, we wound up driving around a little. And about an hour later found us walking through the woods. Well, he was walking, glancing around warily, swatting at spider webs that he almost walked into a time or two and I had hold of his hand, practically dragging the poor guy.

We stepped out onto the sandy bank and he chuckled. Dragging his hand through his hair as he gazed down at me. “We don’t have suits or towels.” he mused, stepping closer to me. Staring me down all over again. I could feel my breath as it caught in my throat because if you want me to be honest?

I hadn’t thought this through properly. And was now freaking out silently. Just a little bit.

But I did my best to shove that out of my head and play it cool and calm. I went for turning it around on him, hoping to fluster him like his observation had flustered me just now.

“I know Mr. Lady Killer’s not worried about somebody seeing him in his Calvins.” I teased, sticking my tongue out at him. He chuckled. Going for his shirt, tugging it over his head. Letting it settle on a branch nearby without tearing his eyes off me for a single second as he did it.

“Did that look worried to you, Jennie?” he muttered, stepping closer. His hand at my hip as he gazed down at me. Waiting.

I cleared my throat, gesturing for him to turn around. He did, but as he did so, he joked that I was the one who was worried. Which to me, sounded like a challenge. So I tapped his shoulder so he’d turn around after lowering my shirt.

He eyed me, a brow raised.

“Challenging me, Steve?” I questioned, giving him an amused laugh as I reached down, tugging my shirt up and over my head. Letting it settle on the branch next to his polo shirt.

Steve sucked in a sharp breath and muttered something to himself, closing the distance between us. His hand settled on my hip again and he laughed quietly. Leaning down a little bit so that we were face to face, his forehead against mine and one of his hands cradling my face.

My heart was pounding. Hard and fast. So fast that I thought it might break out of my chest. I went to lick my own lips and my tongue brushed against his mouth. His fingers dug into my hip lightly and he muttered huskily, “ I see you still can’t turn down a dare, Jennie.” only half teasing. I shrugged, biting my lip as I gazed up at him. Trailing my fingers over his chest mostly just so I could ignore the way my hands were shaking and I was wet, getting wetter by the second. I glanced over my shoulder and nodded at the water. “If we’re going to swim, we should get in.”

Steve cleared his throat, nodding hastily. Stepping away, bending to tug off his sneakers and nearly tumbling over in the process. Making me giggle softly as I pulled off my boots. When my pocketknife and my mom’s old lighter fell out, he eyed me and then nodded to the items on the ground.

“A knife?”

“A girl’s gotta be prepared.” I shrugged it off. Steve tugged down his jeans and while I told myself I wasn’t going to peek or stare, I wound up failing at this miserably and got so distracted watching him that he was able to turn around my own words on me as soon as he kicked his jeans free at the ankle.

“If we’re going to swim, Jennie… we should get in.” he gave me a playful smirk as he said it, stepping closer all over again.

My hand shook as I lowered it to the button on my cut offs. As soon as I’d shed those, I took off for the water full speed. Nearly tripping on a stump in the hill leading down to the water. Steve’s arms shot out and he caught me, pulling me back upright. Pulling me hard enough that when he did, I found myself pressed against him completely.

He chuckled quietly, raising a hand. Pulling a leaf free from my hair.

“The water’s not going anywhere, Jennie.”

“I know.” I answered, my breath catching in my throat when our mouths brushed against each other’s just a little more with each word spoken. His fingers dug into my hip a little more and he took a shaky breath, asking the question quietly, “If I kissed you right now…”

My heart was hammering away in my chest but I managed to answer, “I dare you, Steve...No… I triple dare you.”. The hand he’d placed on my hip was tangled in the hair at the back of my head, pulling my mouth all the way against his mouth. His tongue swept out, outlining and then parting my lips. Massaging my tongue. Slow. Deep. Savoring the moment, even after we both clearly started to get light-headed from lack of actual oxygen. His hand moved up and down my body, settling on my lower back. Pulling me up to tiptoe slightly. The kiss broke long enough for both of us to properly breathe and then his mouth found mine again.

When it finally broke completely, Steve dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. Taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah.” he chuckled to himself.

I raised a brow. “Hm?”

“That was exactly how I thought it’d feel.” he mused, adding quietly, “Wow.”

My stomach churned and I tensed up a little. He chuckled, shaking his head. Placing his lips against my forehead. “It’s not a bad thing. Not at all. I mean.. It wasn’t for me?” he was the one who looked anxious now.

I muttered quietly, “ I definitely wouldn’t mind a repeat. A few repeats, actually, if I’m being honest.” while still quietly reeling from the intensity of it all. Melting myself against him, my fingers dancing slow over his chest. He sucked in a breath, catching hold of my hand. Tilting my chin so that I had to look up at him.

“You’re blushing.” Steve was teasing gently. Rolling his thumb over my bottom lip, leaving it quivering.

“I’m not!” I pretended to be offended by what he said, pouting a little. But I knew I was, I could feel my cheeks burning hot. I stepped away and turned my back, taking off at a run down the hill. Hitting the cool water with a loud and obnoxious splash. Steve dove in behind me, swimming over. Surfacing behind me and pressing against me from behind. I turned to face him and when he splashed me and dove out of the way, I sent up an obnoxious spray of water in his direction, making him yelp because he hadn’t been expecting it.

After about an hour of swimming around and walking the creek down further, we made our way back up to the bank, flopping onto the sand.

My restraint was well out the window by now. If I even thought for a second I was going to fight off the magnetic pull I felt to Steve, I was mistaken and I knew that now. I settled my head on his shoulder and he looped an arm around me, and we lounged around lazily, watching the sky get darker and darker.

Talking. A lot.

I realized that it had to be getting late and I sprang up, holding out my hand. Steve grabbed hold, pulling himself up. After we’d gotten redressed, we wandered up the hill and out of the woods, over to where he’d parked his car at the end of my nana’s driveway..

When he went to walk me up to my front door, we wound up body to body. My arms raised, settling around his neck. My back met the front door and he pulled me into another long and drawn out deep kiss that had us both breathless when it broke.

“Kind of don’t want tonight to end.” he admitted as he gazed down at me. I nodded, definitely agreeing. “Me either.” I admitted quietly, muttering the words against his lips. The porch light started to flicker like crazy and I smiled into the kiss, wiping my mouth as I finally managed to pull away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Steve asked, reminding me that I’d agreed to go to the carnival in town with him. I smiled and nodded. Pausing in the doorway of my grandmother’s house to steal another quick kiss before finally making myself go inside.

I leaned against the door, pulling myself together and my Nana called out from the kitchen, “Well? How did it go, Jennie Bird?”

I wandered into the kitchen, sinking down in a chair at her kitchen table. Smirking at her as all I did to answer her endless stream of questions was to shrug.

“You’re no fun, girl. No fun at all. I wanted to hear juicy details.” my nana reached out, pulling a leaf from my wet hair, holding it at me, smirking as she did so. “Any reason you’re all wet and dazed, bringing half the forest up in my house?”

“We went for a swim down at the creek.”

“Mhm.” my nana teased, laughing softly. “I know you’ll use your head. God knows one of us Brown women needs to, neither me or your mama, god rest her, could ever manage it.” she nodded to the phone on the wall by the doorway. “Might wanna call Nan and Barb. They’ve been calling all afternoon, wondering where you were. They both told me tell you they wanted full details.”

“No listening from upstairs, Nana.” I teased as she shrugged. “Makin no promises, Jennie Bird. You know me. I’m a nosy old broad.”

I grabbed the phone and managed to make the cord stretch to the living room, where I sprawled out on the old couch, legs over the back, telling Nancy and then Barb everything that happened that afternoon.

At one point, while I was talking to Nancy, I smiled to myself when she went into a good ten minutes of gushing over Jonathan walking her home from the library earlier. And giving her a mixed tape.

To be fair, it’s about time he finally talked to her. I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to shove them both in a closet and walk away.

“So… how’d it go with you and Steve tonight?”

“So many sparks.” I gave a dreamy sigh as I spoke, making Nancy laugh. Toying with the necklace and smiling softly to myself as I continued, “ Between you and me? I needed the dip in the cold water…”

“You went swimming?”

“Mhm.” I answered, taking a deep breath. “He’s taking me to the carnival downtown tomorrow night.”

“Oh my god. Get out. Really?” Nancy laughed.

I rolled onto my stomach, twisting the phone cord around my fingertip. Laughing softly as I explained exactly what transpired when Steve showed up at the diner earlier. By the end of it, Nancy let out a low whistle. “He really sacrificed himself to Hank.”

“Mhm. Left me with no option but to say yes. We know how my nana’s boyfriend is. It takes… a brave one to even attempt that.”

“Confession… I may or may not be meeting Jonathan at the carnival tomorrow night too. And Barb mentioned earlier that she’s going to come to it after the movie ends over at the theater, with Logan.”

“Group date?” I asked, giving a giggle. Raking my fingers through my hair as I reached for the Diet Tab I’d gotten myself before grabbing the phone, taking a sip of it.

“Yes. Group date indeed.” Nancy answered. I could hear her mother yelling at her to hang up, and I let her go, calling Barb.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you are not going to believe what happened to me this afternoon, Barb.”

“Your nana told us you left with Steve earlier. How’d that go?” Barb asked in a teasing tone. “I told you he liked you, you realize this, right?” she added.

“All I’m saying is I needed that swim to cool me down. I needed it badly.” I giggled. Agreeing reluctantly when she reminded me that she’d been telling me he liked me all month long. I rolled onto my back, twisting the cord around my fingers again. “Hey, are you and Logan gonna stop by the carnival after your movie?”

“Yeah! Did Nancy tell you? I told her to tell you so we could all meet up or something.”

“I am dying for funnel cake. And maybe getting stuck at the top of the Ferris Wheel like some cliche romance novel…” I muttered, giving a soft laugh at the end.

“Aww how cute!” Barb teased.

I took a few more sips of my diet Tab and smiled to myself. Excited about tomorrow night. Barb spoke up again, “Wait… you said you and Steve went swimming…”

“We did.”

“What was that like?”

“Oh, it was interesting. Very,very interesting.”

“You’re no fun girl!” my Nana’s voice cut through the call and I groaned inwardly, lowering the phone to call up the stairs to my Nana in her room, “Seriously?”

Barb was laughing. After my nana hung up, we talked a little more and I told her about Steve going out to the garage. WIth all the tools. And my nana’s boyfriend Hank… to ask him if he could take me on a date.

“He did? And he’s alive? How?”

“I don’t know, actually. Hank’s always giving him shit when he comes into the diner, I did not see it going the way it did. But.. I’m glad it did. Ah, I had such a good time tonight.”

“He’d better be good to you or I’m coming for his knee caps.” Barb teased, going quiet for a few seconds. Her mom must have come to her door to tell her she needed to use the phone, because she had to get off. After I ended the call with her, I wandered up to my room, falling across my bed.

What.A.Night.

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagines #my writing ; steve harrington #my fics ; steve harrington #my fanfics ; steve harrington

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wy-01 · 4 years

Text

IN THE LIGHT OF THE MORNING DAWN

FANDOM: TGCF PAIRING: feng xin/mu qing Crossposted from Twitter! Based off Chapter 14 of the manhua.

p r e v i e w

His eyes sweep over Mu Qing's bloodied robes again, as if Mu Qing hasn't already assured them of his lack of injury. It's more endearing than annoying, and the fondness that floods him almost catches him by surprise.

There's something about the smell of an early-morning forest that never fails to lift Mu Qing's spirits. He breathes in deeply, the cool air refreshing as it always is. Mist hangs in the air like a thin veil as he walks, enjoying the rare moment of quiet. Sunrise shivers through the thick cover of tree leaves, light falling to the soft earth in dappled circles.

It's been a busy night, and the little inconveniences everywhere have ruined what could have been an exhilarating fight.

Not to mention Night-touring Green Lantern's specialty hanging corpse forest... It's not so much alarming as it is annoying. Mu Qing is covered in coagulating blood, tangled his hair and soaking through his robes and drying on his face. It reeks. Disgusting.

Despite the peace around him, the adrenaline thrumming under his skin is slow to dissipate as he heads back to Ming Guang Hall.

Dead leaves crunch underfoot, still glistening with morning dew. Mu Qing picks up his pace as he approaches the old temple's wall, well aware that he's taken longer than expected to return. He rubs half-dried blood off his face with a sleeve; either way, this set of robes will have to be disposed of after they return to the Heavens.

From the outside, General Pei's temple walls look like something out of an ancient scripture, all crumbling tiles and mossy, vine-covered walls. Once-vibrant red glaze has faded to a dull brick colour, and the words carved into the walls have long lost their golden shine. Mu Qing pauses for a moment to stare at the leaves crawling over a particular engraving by the side-door. It's meant to ward off evil and danger, no doubt the mortals' way of making themselves feel safer. As if writing words on a wall will keep a building safe from the monsters that roam the world.

(Note about the engraving: I wanted to say it's a 贺语, but there's no English translation that I could find, so I described its purpose instead.)

He sighs, pushing past the heavy metal doors to enter the temple. Two rows of corpses greet him, covered in the fresh red of marriage robes. Mu Qing glances past them, to the sunlit sight of Feng Xin and His Highness, watching him with twin expressions of shock and worry.

Needless, especially now that they're all immortals. It's not as if a little bit of blood will kill him. He studiously pushes away the blooming warmth that pools in his chest at the alarm on Feng Xin's face.

"You're injured?" Xie Lian blurts out, at the same time that he says, 'It's not my blood.'

Feng Xin is silent. Mu Qing bites back a smile.

"Where did you go that you ended up like this, then?"

Mu Qing can't help but roll his eyes at the memory - irritating, like everything else about this trip down to the mortal realm. Feng Xin is still staring at him with a strange expression, brows furrowed, his hazel eyes soft in the morning light. His eyes sweep over Mu Qing's bloodied robes again, as if Mu Qing hasn't already assured them of his lack of injury. It's more endearing than annoying, and the fondness that floods him almost catches him by surprise.

Beside Feng Xin, Xie Lian is like a beacon, red robes glowing in the sun, his face pale like a ghost and lips red like a woman's. His hair is gold in the sunlight. Mu Qing, frankly, has had enough of wedding-themed colours for the day.

"I went north after exiting the temple gates, in hopes of leading those demon brides away, but I ended up encountering a corpse forest."

Feng Xin's eyes widen and his eyebrows do something funny - like they're trying to rise up to his hairline and furrow down over his eyes at the same time. His voice, when he speaks, is hurried and harsh, halfway between a whisper and a shout.

"An upended hanging corpse forest?!"

His Highness' confusion is palpable.

xxx

By the time they return, the sun is high in the sky, and the scratches Mu Qing received from the demon brides have all but healed completely. He needs a bath. The stench of blood clings to him like the ugliest kind of lotus paste.

(Disclaimer: I love lotus paste. But it really is very sticky sometimes.)

Feng Xin trails after him, all the way back to his palace.

He pauses at the gates to glare at his - friend? rival? comrade? - only for Feng Xin to stare impassively back. It's been their routine for years. Go on a mission, return triumphant and high off the thrill of battle, clean up afterwards. Sometimes they do it together. Sometimes Feng Xin can't stand Mu Qing's eye-rolls and they part with bickering that's long become more familiar than malicious.

"You got injured, didn't you," Feng Xin says. His lips are set in a stubborn frown.

Mu Qing rolls his eyes.

"So you can see through clothes now, is that it?" When Feng Xin doesn't rise to the bait, he turns and heads towards the bathhouse. (Feng Xin doesn't need any cue to follow. They've walked this path too many times for him not to know what happens next.)

The halls of his palace are silent but for their footsteps, faint shadows trailing after them as the wind ruffles the gauzy curtains that keep out the heat. Neither of them speak.

When Mu Qing chose the location of his palace, he'd wanted a location that was self-sufficient enough not to require many servants. This meant: a flowing stream, adjacent to a hot spring, was the source of his bathwater. His bathhouse was built directly atop it, and water was pumped up into a small pool, which was drained into the gardens after every use. Mu Qing thought it was a work of art. Feng Xin took every chance to mock it.

This time, they are both uncharacteristically quiet. Xie Lian's return has Mu Qing thinking about the past again, the way they fell back into old habits so quickly. It has him thinking about whether the three of them have a future together, still, even after all this time.

Hell if he knows what goes on in Feng Xin's head, though.

xxx

They're already naked, Mu Qing gingerly scrubbing the dried blood from his face, his back turned to Feng Xin, when one of them starts talking again.

"Do you ever wonder what we'd be like, if not for His Highness?" Feng Xin's voice is close, almost right at his ear. His words are only slightly louder than a whisper. They don't quite echo in the dimly-lit bathhouse, but where his volume increases, words carry over the water's surface, too loud in the sudden silence.

Do you ever wonder, he asks, as if Mu Qing doesn't count his blessings and think about what to do with them every day.

We, Feng Xin says, as if they're anything other than two people who can't stand each other at worst and unwilling acquaintances at best, as if Mu Qing doesn't hold him at arm's length. Even if Mu Qing holds everyone else a sword-length away, the distance still exists. It still means something.

"Shut up," Mu Qing says.

It's no surprise when Feng Xin grumbles and insults him, and this- this is familiar territory again. An introspective Feng Xin is not one he wants to deal with right now, or ever.

Feng Xin's past, and Mu Qing's future, are things that they don't talk about. They meet in the present, fight together and eat together and spend their time together and, sometimes, clean up after battle together. But that's the limit of their relationship; transient, two people whose worlds collided by coincidence, who continue to exist in tandem by coincidence. Mu Qing doesn't quite want to hope for anything different.

He startles when Feng Xin's hands find their way into his hair. A protest is on the tip of his tongue, but then Feng Xin's fingers dig gently into his head, and soap is being massaged into his scalp. His hands move in slow, circular motions, pressing at random pressure points. Mu Qing lets out a slow, quiet breath.

It isn't the first time Feng Xin has washed his hair for him. Mu Qing can't deny how comfortable it is to have someone else run their fingers through his hair, rub oils into it once it's clean.

When Feng Xin's touch slides down to his shoulders, Mu Qing allows it. He lets Feng Xin wash his back with his warm, calloused hands.

Like a servant, Mu Qing insists in his mind, though he's not sure who he's trying to convince.

They don't do anything other than bathe. Usually there would be some sort of verbal exchange, or a stupid competition, but today there is only the sound of running water from under the floorboards and the steady hands on his back, pulling gently on his arm, smoothing over his chest.

Mu Qing closes his eyes.

He can feel Feng Xin's presence like a rock, unmoving. Feng Xin's warm breath puffs over his skin when he leans in too close. A thumb brushes over a freshly-healed patch of his skin.

Who cares about fate, he thinks. Since we've met already, isn't whatever happens from now on our choice?

He blinks his eyes open; Feng Xin is staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Mu Qing finds Feng Xin's hands and pulls them away. He takes a step back.

"Are you that eager to become one of my Junior Officials?" he murmurs, trying for condescending and falling short.

"Do you let all your Junior Officials do this with you?" Feng Xin's expression darkens.

"No," Mu Qing says, turning away. "No, only you."

END

#fengqing #tgcf #mu qing #feng xin #hob #heaven official's blessing #ff

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ayatosmlktea · 4 years

Note

I saw your post about Crazy Levi can I make a request on when reader and Levi has been dating for more than 3 years but one day they get into a horrible car crash and Levi smashed his head making him bipolar and reader did everything in their power to help him but nothing was working and he had to go to a mental hospital. Angst plz 😂😓

TW: Self-Harm, Mentions of Suicide, Depression, Mania, Bipolar disorder. Please read at your own risk.

𝑵𝒐 𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑬𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈

The accident had changed their lives completely, it just had to happen on one of their worst days. They had been so busy yelling at each other, fighting over something that was now so stupid and insignificant that Y/N hadn’t been focused enough to avoid the oncoming collision due to another driver running a red light. The crash hadn’t really been her fault, but her attention had been so focused on proving Levi wrong that she felt like everything that happened after was because of her petty tantrum. It was the universe’s way of saying that her habit of fighting over nothing was going to come back around to wreak havoc and destruction in its wake.

Y/N had managed to walk away with a minor concussion and a few broken bones but Levi had been less lucky. It had been three weeks since their accident and he still hadn’t woken up. She had cried until all that her body could do was feel like it was collapsing in on itself. Her eyes were constantly bloodshot and to anyone she might have seemed high, but she was preparing for the day the doctors would tell her that Levi would never walk up again. She never left his bedside unless absolutely necessary and even then the nurses would have to drag her out of his room.

“I’ve never prayed in my life and I must seem like the biggest hypocrite ever but if there’s anyone up there listening…please just give him back to me. I swear I’ll never start stupid arguments again just let him wake up” She had lost count of how many nights she’d spent pleading to whatever omnipotent being was listening to her desperate cries for help. All she wanted was to see his beautiful stormy eyes open again so she could apologize and beg for his forgiveness.

Her prayers were answered shortly after, it was a miracle! That’s what the doctors had said, and Y/N would take it. Whatever conditions were attached to him waking up didn’t matter, Levi was finally back.

“There’s been significant damage to his frontal lobe. You might start noticing some changes in his personality, if it gets to a point where he becomes a danger to himself or you give this number a call.” Levi’s primary doctor handed her a small black business card. Sina Institute for Mental Health. The words settled in her stomach uncomfortably. She really wanted to believe that Levi wouldn’t change, maybe with time he’d recover from the trauma. Maybe the doctors were over-exaggerating, Levi was resilient he’d pull through!

____________________________________________

“Welcome home Y/N! I missed you so much, you’re not going to leave me are you?” The sing-songy voice that greeted her as she walked through the front door didn’t make her feel welcome at all. Levi’s recovery was going worse than she had ever expected. The man living with her was not someone she recognized at all anymore. She never knew which Levi she was going to come home to and it was starting to make her feel anxious as soon as she started her trek home. On top of their already pricy rent and other costs their expenses had quickly skyrocketed due to their medical bills and Levi’s medication. Levi was on sick leave from his job, still not at a satisfactory level of physical or mental well being to return to work fulltime meaning that Y/N was shouldering the majority of their bills.

“I’m not going to leave you, you know I’m doing overtime at work. I called you earlier to let you know I’d be home late.” Putting her bag on the counter she walked over to the fridge to pour herself a giant glass of wine.

“I was thinking that our place could use some new furniture don’t you think? So I ordered a bunch of stuff online! Isn’t that great?” Y/N had to fight the urge to vomit while her fingers gripped the neck of her glass tighter. The stress of having to juggle all of their bills was already stressing her out to the point of not being able to sleep at night and now Levi’s habit of impulsively maxing out their credit cards was becoming too much.

“Levi we talked about this, you’re not supposed to use the credit cards unless it’s an emergency” Y/N couldn’t hold back the long sigh that left her lips, everything was just becoming so pointless.

“I know but I was cleaning before and it just didn’t feel right.”

“What didn’t feel right?” She asks not really wanting to know the answer.

“I don’t know! I just feel like something big is going to happen soon and we need to clean this dump up” His cheerful words clawed at her gut, Levi was never one to spend money recklessly. While she wasn’t as much of a neat freak as he was; she still tried her best to keep their shared space as clean as possible knowing that his mania was easily triggered by the slightest mess.

“Did you take your medication today?”

“I don’t need them! I feel better, honestly!” Her eyes began to burn with tears of helplessness. She had thought she could help him work through the mess his head was in. Researching for hours on the internet for ways to make it easier on adjusting him to being on his own without throwing himself into a depressive fit.

She’d anonymously called the number the doctor had given her asking for possible diagnosis based on the symptoms Levi displayed within the past three months. While they weren’t able to give her an accurate diagnosis without actually talking to Levi they’d been fairly sure his symptoms were similar to that of Bipolar disorder.

Y/N didn’t want to accept it at first, the Levi she had fallen in love with was stubborn and strong-willed. If anything, he was the one who had held her together. He was always rational and now the tables had been turned, Levi was not Levi. His manic episodes made him jittery and impulsive. His depressive episodes had her on edge constantly, normally she could talk him down from doing something irreversible but it seemed like their luck had finally run out.

____________________________________________

Y/N had come home later than she had intended, it was well past midnight and she knew Levi was going to be up waiting for her to come back. She had tried calling his phone but he wasn’t picking up. She bit her lip nervously, it was never a good thing when he didn’t answer his phone. Her hands were shaking with anxiety when she unlocked the door. The apartment was dark and quiet yet something lurking in the darkness was screaming at her to turn away and walk away. Flicking the lights on the sight of drops of blood trailing from the kitchen into the hallway had the hairs on the back of her neck standing.

“Levi!” She called out not bothering to remove her shoes as she followed the trail leading to their bedroom. Holding her breath she pushed open the door that was already ajar. Levi sat on the edge of their bed, his face covered with his hands and his shoulders trembling slightly.

“Levi?” Cautiously she approached him, her fight or flight response ringing like a siren in her ear to get out. His head shot up at the sound of her frightened voice, eyes red and wet with tears.

“You promised!” His tone was accusing and all too loud for her to feel remotely safe.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to get home so late! Did you hurt yourself?” Trying to stay calm enough to let him allow her to get close to him was proving to be more difficult as each second ticked by.

“I don’t want to live if you’re going to leave me! Tell me you aren’t going to leave me!” The crimson stains on his shirt and their bedsheets had Y/N on the verge of a panic attack. She couldn’t help him on her own anymore.

“I’m not going to leave you. Please let me help you, you’re bleeding everywhere!” Hysteria was creeping into her throat, every minute that she watched the shell of the man she used to know made her heart pound uncomfortably in her chest.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help! You think I don’t see the way you look at me? Like I’m some kind of monster? Like a fucking freak!” Tears streamed down her cheeks as he began screaming at her.

“I don’t think you’re a monster” she choked out in between sobs trying to catch her breath. Her hands reached out to him hoping that physical affection would help calm him down. Instead Levi violently shoved her out of his way to lock himself in the bathroom.

“Levi let me help you please!” She shouted banging her fists against the door uncaring of how loud she was being. Her head started to feel light headed as she began to hyperventilate. Through blurry eyes and with shaking fingers she called for an ambulance.

____________________________________________

Levi had screamed that he hated her several times that night before the paramedics had given him a sedative. His voice infiltrated her dreams, every night she’d wake up to the image of his blood on her hands. It had been a few weeks since she’d admitted him to the psych ward, as much as she loved him she couldn’t bring herself to face him. Y/N was consumed by guilt, she’d sit in her car for hours outside the institute before going back home. There wasn’t anything she could say that would make up for her failed attempts at helping him. She had promised Levi that she wouldn’t leave him but it seemed like sometimes promises had to be broken.

Masterlist

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haberdashing · 4 years

Text

The End Comes Near (2/?)

TMA AU where Jon isn’t entirely wrong when he asks if Martin is a ghost in episode 39.

on AO3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

Martin knew better than to assume that he was entirely out of harm’s way just because the worms weren’t actively going after him right this moment, but at the very least, it gave him a moment to take a few deep breaths (doing his best to ignore the pungent smell of the worm carcasses around him as he did so) and take stock of his current situation, much as the adrenaline in his system was urging him to pick a random direction and run before it was too late.

He was in the tunnels under the Archives. He still had the torch he’d gotten into the habit of carrying around, thankfully--and it hadn’t gone out when he’d dropped it in the fall, either, which was a small blessing, because this place was creepy enough without it being pitch black to boot--and his corkscrew, but not much else on hand. Jon and Tim were somewhere in the tunnels too, presumably, but he had no idea where besides “ahead of him”, and the way the previous passages had forked and curved as they had passed through left Martin convinced that such vague information was next to useless down here.

Martin took a brief moment to call out Jon and Tim’s names, on the off-chance that they were within earshot, might hear his call and return to his side.

No such luck, which wasn’t really much of a surprise. What was more of a surprise was that his cry didn’t even echo through the extended corridors of the tunnels, the quiet filling the space once more immediately after Martin ceased speaking. Vaguely disappointing, that, calling out into a nice big space like this and not even getting an echo out of the bargain.

His knee was, upon closer examination under the torchlight, not really that badly banged up. It was scraped, sure, a bit of blood in there, could probably use some peroxide and a few bandages when he was out of here, but hardly a serious wound. It hurt to walk on it, a small twinge of pain hitting him whenever he moved the knee, but what mattered right now was that he could walk on it, could probably even run on it if need be.

There were about half a dozen silvery worm carcasses forming a rough semi-circle around where Martin had fallen, which he still didn’t know what to make of, but right now he wasn’t especially tempted to look that gift horse in the mouth.

And Martin had no idea how to get from where he was back into the Archives proper.

He could run forwards, try to catch up with Jon and Tim, but even if they weren’t far ahead of him by now, odds were decent that he’d choose the wrong path the first or second or fifth time the tunnels branched off and he’d be no closer to them than he had been before.

He could try retracing his steps, but he hadn’t exactly been focusing on which turns he’d been making when running for his life, and trying to recreate them all could easily backfire as well.

Standing still had to be the worst option of all, though. The others might not guarantee that he’d get back out of the tunnels, but standing around doing nothing would ensure that he’d remain there, lost and alone and surrounded by worms both living and dead. Unless somebody came back for him, he supposed, but the odds of that were far lower than he wanted for something upon which his plan would rely.

After a bit of thinking and weighing his options, Martin decided to press forward, choosing which branch to take when he inevitably reached a fork in the road by just picking whichever direction felt right. Even as he implemented this plan, he could hear Jon in his head berating him for trusting what could be life-or-death decisions to his gut, but there was no clear way of logic-ing his way into figuring out where he was in relation to the Archives or anyone else, and he didn’t have any helpful tools for navigating like a map or a compass or even chalk to write on the walls with, so when it came down to it, Jon, going off a gut feeling couldn’t really be any worse than the alternative of going off of nothing at all.

The tunnels didn’t seem to change much, just stone walls stretching on and on. It was nigh-impossible to tell if he was getting closer to or further from the Archives, or even if he was just going in circles for hours on end. Martin tried to look for little things that would distinguish one bit of the tunnels from another, and there were a few--some had higher ceilings than others, some had stone walls that were more regular and brick-like while others appeared almost like natural rock formations--but even with these, it was impossible for Martin to make a mental map of the tunnels, or even to consistently tell whether he was in a part that he’d been in before. The only thing that really stood out was the set of stairs he found at one point, steep stone stairs leading downwards in a spiral that kept going until his torchlight gave way to darkness, but the last thing Martin wanted to do was descend further into the abyss, so those stairs weren’t really of much help to him except as a landmark that he only encountered the once.

The worms stopped showing up as frequently as they had been, appearing less and less until several minutes would pass between him spying a single one. This should have been a good thing. Martin knew that, logically, having less of the deadly supernatural flesh worms around was a good thing. But he had a pit in his stomach just the same, as he kept thinking that the worms were going after the Institute, so if there were no worms he must be far from the Institute now, far from getting back, far from getting out...

There was more dust, in this part of the corridors, and while there were fewer worms either alive or dead around there, Martin spotted more than one dead rat in the passages. There was other debris, too, things that were harder to explain away as natural--a few wine bottles, all empty, and what Martin would swear was a pack of mint imperials, even though that didn’t make sense, nobody knew about this place, let alone would sit around eating mint imperials in it...

Martin was trying to get back to where he had been, where there was less in the way of dust and more in the way of worms, even before he heard an ear-piercing, hideous scream ring out, saw only dead and shriveled worms on the ground from there on out, and knew Prentiss was dead and gone and the worm threat was well and truly over with.

Martin flung open the first door he saw, an unobtrusive thing sitting in the middle of the stone wall like it belonged there, and took a few steps forward without giving it a second thought. It felt right, it felt like he was getting somewhere, back to the Institute--or, or perhaps into some other building, given how long he’d been walking through the tunnels now, but he would take that at this point, would take a lot over continuing to wander aimlessly through the tunnels.

The door didn’t lead to the Institute, though, although the cassette tapes scattered about in thin cardboard boxes looked like the kind Jon was using in the Archives now; the dust covering everything in the small, square room made it clear that it wasn’t any kind of working space, and almost certainly hadn’t been touched for years before Martin trudged his way inside there. There wasn’t much to the room, really, besides those boxes of tapes and a plain wooden chair in the middle, upon which sat-

Somehow, Martin registered that the person sitting in the chair was Gertrude Robinson, missing former head of the Institute’s archives, a split second before registering that he was looking at a corpse, the gap between the two thoughts just long enough for him to form a half-baked speculation about her being a ghost before he spied the three gunshot wounds on her chests and realized that no, she was just plain dead, and not killed by some supernatural boogie monster, either.

The worms weren’t an issue anymore, sure, but somebody knew about these tunnels, somebody with a gun, somebody who had killed the previous head archivist, and who could say if that somebody was still on the loose...

Martin could feel his heart racing as he sprinted out of the room, desperate to get away from the dust and the tapes and the dead body of Gertrude Robinson.

#tma #tma au #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives au #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #personal #my writing

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icefrozendeadlyqueen · 4 years

Text

Embodiment of a Goddess: Prologue

A/N: It might just be a one time thing. It was hard to write I couldn’t decided where my mind was taking this. I am incapable of following the show in ways. This pop up in my head, and I couldn’t stop writing it.

I don’t own the viking show or its characters. I do own mine

idk Viking Language Google told me:

Að unna means love.

if you know plz let me know, I appreciated Thank you

enjoy!

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"You lied to that boy, sister", (y/n) locks the door once both of the Perovina sisters were in. The daughters of the Godesses people whisper among themselves as they go in crowds and out. (y/n) glances around her sister's chambers when she claim in front of the crowd the truth Ashla is Hvitserk's other half perfectly align with the prophecy she sees in her mind. (y/n) wears a fine silk (f/c) dress with adorning accessories gifted to her by her husband. Long and horrendous years that we have lived not knowing if we gotten to our destination that century or achieve the path we were given.

Ashla & (y/n) always together... that was the idea of the gods for us. (y/n) can know the desire future of the beholder with no regards on reality. You can bend the future to your bidding with or without re-precautions... you have never suffer any or because the gods fear darkness that you have at your disposal. You are the delighted representation of light in all types or forms. This world has proper our mission is true, we have done enough and given everything to become what we are now. The journey here to find Kattegat was not easy; however, we prevail in what we do best create hell-firing WAR.

"You know as well as I that you are Hvitserk's future for all of these not to be in vein. You have to marry him not King Umpa of the Legion", (y/n) extend her arms about sketching a map of all the steps we have taken through the vile obstacles that the gods would give us just to fuck with us. Heart tightens making hard for you to not scream at the skies for the stubbornness of your sister here, "It's meant to be", She whispers under her breath trying to atone for the pain she cause Hvitserk. Ashla wears a blood red cloak tender flickers of light emit from the piece of clothing moving about as if alive. (y/n) catches sight the darkness pilling at the hem of her sister's dress. Ashla wore a black dress (y/n) has no idea how can she turn dark everything touching her body of the finest fabrics Hvitserk could find. (y/n) remembers that day by the markets Hvitserk searches fabrics for a dress to be made for Ashla, "There is a bet at stakes (y/n). Ashla told me that if I can somehow make a dress keep its color while she wears it at the next feast! She'll dance with me for as long as my heart desires", His lips press together staring from thick to soft fabrics not sure what would do. He knew that such task was impossible to achieve in his heart he knew thus still he tried to make it a reality. In Hvitserk's shared chambers with your sister, Ashla darkness among men, (y/n) has this whole plan to convince Ashla that this is madness.

"He told you? so it was you that help Hvitserk win huh?", (y/n) glances up lips curl into a genuine smile from your sisters lips. A sense of helpless washes over you when you stare into her eyes it comes with looking into darkness, "You know having share thoughts its extremely annoying", (y/n) claims knowing very well it isn't. You and Ashla are more connected than your husband and you would ever become, "Bridge fell?, Cave Bandits?, Dragon?, Saxxon army? and so on and so forth. I may be arrogant after all who better to protect you than darkness huh? Your Ragnarsson's husband? A human? ha! Cute", Ashla goes on about set reasons to avoid centering to the matter at hand, Hvitserk. You know from the way she caress Hvitserk's objects all around a sense of peace rushes in the room when Ashla's eyes soften barely showing the blood she is so hungry for all the time. War its what keeps her going, she says. War is all she needs, she continues. Love is not something she wants, liar is what she is.

It was it a time matter a jump or life ending you have no idea what was first. No one ever interrupt us discussing matters for Kattegat's future that's what we used to tell Ragnar and he had no reason not to believed us. We have won wars for him prosper Kattegat to levels they can't wrapped their minds around. Vikings are still afloat on top of the world by the era we are in they should have died long ago. It's our duties as Goddesses to keep that from happening. It was sacred, we said. After this we would part ways going to our respective Ragnarssons; however, fate laugh in our faces. I have already knew what was coming if I let my sisters even inch closer to the window she will escape my judgement as usual.

"I appreciate you, sisters", (y/n) starts stopping the raging monsters that's Ashla from continuing the rampage of her trying to evade love, "I am not discarding that I need you just as much as you need me", Ashla's black shadows Holt their movement watching Ashla do the same. She gulps saliva hearing (y/n) words trying to reason with her, "I don't know why don't you accept, Hvitserk. He has given you care and acceptance more than anyone in Kattegat had. Ragnar and Aslaug took a liking to me; however, Lagertha took a liking to you". (y/n) a satisfactory grin writes in your lips. Ashla breath for the first time since 2 weeks ago when you dare her to stop breathing to see how long a Goddess can go without air. Her shadows rejoice at the name of their war mentor a human, Ashla would have laugh, she would to anyone else not to Lagertha.

"You unhitched swine. W-why! you!", Ashla swing around ready to throw her darkness at me in a playful manner to get me back for breaking her solemn walk. It was the only person that would work among us sisters, "Hvitserk", Ashla breath out her eyes flying from (y/n) to his green ones. You glance at your right stand one of Ragnar's oldest son, Hvitserk. (y/n) lets go of the breath you were holding happy that now everything might get fix, "Ashla". Hvitserk breaths out, he blinks a couple of times before taking a step forward towards her. Ashla's hand shake a bit of an anxious habit she is well known for, but no one is brave enough to tell her. (y/n) knows thats a sign that Hvitserk's presence is affecting her. Hvitserk stops looking around localizing every single shadow of hers. They have a tendency to frighten the living hell out of him, "I told you, they won't attack you... (y/n) and you might be the only people they tolerate". Ashla blurts softly as if scared to raise her voice afraid of what might come out. They keep eye contact ignoring your presence all together, "Hvitserk and Lagertha". (y/n) corrects Ashla slight mistake.

"We need to talk", Hvitserk takes a step towards her. His hands closer to his chest though spread about hoping to get close enough to bring her into him.

"No good conversation comes out 'we need to talk' spit it out!", Ashla raises her voice a bit trying not to shout. Shouting only leads to them fighting, and she wants to enjoy this a little longer.

"We don't always see each other eye to eye. (y/n) and you have help my family keep on living for all these years with nothing in return. You given me a muse, and a reason to go into battle knowing well I'll always come out alive... my brothers don't have what I have. Sigurd has (y/n) and I can confirm I have you", Ashla got lost in his voice the way his lips move distracting her awareness. His eyes on hers is all a girl can wish for the reassurance that loneliness is long forgotten. She takes deep breath walking the couple steps towards him. She locks her arms around his back while he does the same to her, "Speak to me. I am begging you. Why? Have I fail you in anyway? Do you wish to marry me? Is that why every King or Earl thinks they stand a chance?". Hvitserk goes on to this feast trying to find an explanation for what happen. King Umpa of the Legion proclaim to Kattegat that he wants Ashla hand in marriage at the feast. The royal family's smiles left as Ashla said yes instead of no. Everyone who knows the relationship between Hvitserk and Ashla stare horrified at Ashla confirmation.

"Is it not your wish to have the greatest army of the world, Að unna? Ragnar's army are equal to none. Sigurd has (y/n) who can see our greatest and worst future. I have you, but you have no army that you can brag about. I want to give you that. I want to give you everything", Ashla takes a breathing letting her words free in the pages of destiny. A black tear runs down Ashla's cheeks showcasing the truth in her words. (y/n) has never seen her sister shed a tear not even really weep. You wait to see if she laughs at the end of her words but she never even grins. Hvitserk lets go off her tender embrace bringing his rough hand to cup her cheeks with tears on his own eyes, "I have you, Ashla. I don't need an army when I have you. You are darkness for the rest of the world, but for me you are my redemption. You make breathing a blessing not a curse. You make living paradise not hell without you in my life I would have gone mad". Hvitserk closest the gape between their lips sealing their future from now on till the ends of times.

#vikings #viking show #reader x sigurd #sigurd ragnarsson #oc x hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarson #Ragnar Lothbrok #ragnar #lagertha #aslaug #embodiment #EmbodimentofaGoddess #Embodiment of a Goddesss #goddess #supernatural reader #emotions #sadness #love

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etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years

Text

What He Wants (Pt. 10)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary: On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content: Nothing major. Our boy is still a little sad but he’s doing better.

Word Count: 1518

Author’s Note: Hello again lovelies! Like I would really leave ya’ll with a short little 700 word installment on a Friday?? Pffft. It’s a double post day! Mainly because the last part was super short, but it’s also Friday, and honestly I’m in a really shitty head space right now and making ya’ll happy will make me feel a little better.

If you missed the previous parts you can find them here: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

XOXO - Ash

What He Wants, Pt. 10

The next morning you wake before Bucky and take advantage of being the first to grab a shower. You are squeaky clean having used almost all of the complimentary bottles in the bathroom and know you’ll have to get new ones so Bucky can get a shower too. You slip down to the lobby and procure the extra supplies as well as two cups of coffee. Bucky wakes up with a start, you are beginning to suspect this is a habit with him. He sits up in the bed, eyes darting around wildly for a moment until he catches his bearings.

“Morning Bucky.” You say to him over the rim of your coffee cup.

His eyes fix on you and he groans, rubbing at his face. The sight of you in a pair of little grey shorts and a T-shirt, wet hair falling around you in waves, is the last thing he needs to see right when he wakes up. He is already dealing with morning wood from hell and the sight of you makes him want to double over.

“Not a morning person?” You continue, assuming he is grumpy. “I brought you coffee, black.” You point at the mug next to the night stand.

Bucky’s issue remedies itself when he goes to reach for the cup with his left hand and realizes he is not waking up as he had fallen asleep. His shoes are off and so is his left arm. He wants to vomit at the idea of you having to do that for him. Your delicate, perfect fingers having to navigate the wreckage of his left arm; where the scars and metal still riddle his skin from HYDRA using him as their own Frankenstein’s monster. It is a never ending reminder of how fucked up he is both inside and out.

You watch his distress and feel guilty at having been so bold. “I’m sorry.” You blurt out, unwilling to wait for him to start berating you, “You fell asleep so fast and I wasn’t sure what to do. You’d had it on all day and I figured it would be more irritating to leave on and I just wanted to help so you didn’t have one more ache to deal with today.” You take a breath finally, waiting for him to start in on you.

Bucky watches your rambling efforts and how you brace yourself, ready for him to do his worst tongue lashing. Of all the emotions running across your face Bucky doesn’t see any pity or disgust and he’s grateful. He can’t bring himself to reprimand you. As much as he wants to keep you from that ugly part of himself, you had only been trying to help and he’s impressed you figured out how to get it off without waking him. “You were right. It would have hurt like a bitch today if I left it on that long.”

Your eyes widen and you try not to smile, taking a quick sip of your coffee instead. Bucky slides himself to the edge of the bed, testing his right left and finding it still too tender to stand on. He carefully slips on his prosthetic and grabs the crutch to help himself up and to the bathroom. He knows showering is going to be a challenge but he has to at least attempt it. Carefully he maneuvers himself, balancing on his uninjured leg and quickly scrubbing himself clean before he needs to sit back down on the edge of the tub. It takes longer than he wants it to but in the end he is clean and smells like a human being again. He stares at his reflection in the large behind the sink mirror and cringes. He knew he avoided mirrors for a reason. Bucky runs a towel through his hair once more before popping his head out of the bathroom to ask you to throw him his bag. You hand him the black duffel through the crack in the door, careful to avoid seeing anything you don't need to. Dressing is awkward but he manages and he changes his bandage noticing the wound was already looking better.

By the time he is done in the bathroom he is desperate for coffee, already a little worn out. You are sitting at the small table still drinking yours and flipping through a newspaper. He notices you had gotten changed for the day into a baggy white T-shirt over faded blue jeans. Bucky settles in on the edge of his bed to enjoy the coffee, watching you read. Curious as to how someone so young could be so wrapped up in SHIELD, he asks you.

You look up from your paper, amused he thinks you are so young and glad he is making an effort at conversation. “I’m thirty two.” you inform him, “Though I guess compared to a hundred something that is pretty young.”

Bucky is surprised, he wouldn’t have put you past mid twenties, “You look a lot younger.”

“I get told that a lot.” You shrug. “Just one of those faces, I guess. SHIELD helped me out after the attack on New York. I didn’t know how to control my ability and I probably wouldn't have made it if they hadn't found me. So after all their help I signed on as a freelance agent”

“You got lucky. That’s good.”

“I don’t know if it was luck. I watched my best friend get murdered in front of me and then the thing turned on me which is why I ended up with this ability.” It is a painful memory and it stings to think of it.

Bucky wishes he could swallow his words back up, knowing he caused you pain from the memory. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t know.”

“And now you do.” You stand up, ready to move past the somber topic and start your day. “Are you up to grabbing breakfast downstairs? They have a decent restaurant that makes pretty much everything.”

“Lead the way.” Bucky says, grabbing his crutch and pulling himself up.

You are impressed with how much better he is moving after a good night’s rest. In another day or two he would be almost as good as new at the rate he’s going. You slow your pace down to walk with him down the hall to the restaurant, thankful for your first floor room.

Bucky eats like a starving man and you have to keep yourself from chuckling a few times. “Do the Avengers not feed you?” You tease as he tears into his second plate of French Toast.

Bucky looks up at you and then down at his plate, “Super soldier” he says simply between bites. He sets his fork down after a moment, “You should have seen Steve. Or Thor. I thought Pepper was going to faint at our first grocery bill.”

You do laugh then, trying to imagine that situation. “Good to know. I’ll have to set up another grocery delivery then. I only have my usual stuff coming tonight.”

“You can order groceries? Why not go to the store?”

“Normally I’m just too busy. By the time I’m able to go out I’m exhausted from work and it makes it harder to turn off my ability. With so many people around, it’s just… a situation I’d rather avoid.”

“Makes sense. I’ll try not to eat you out of house and home.”

“It’s fine, I can place another order. I have a feeling that a week of stuff for me is going to last about two days.”

Bucky grins, “If we’re lucky.”

You shake your head and start back in on your omelette. Breakfast with Bucky is strangely normal. He seems at ease after he’s eaten something and it’s like he forgets that he is supposed to guard himself around you for a minute. You pay the bill once you both finish and slowly make your way back to room to grab your things. The taxi you arranged arrives right as you are turning over your keycard to the front desk and Bucky loads your bags into the trunk while you take care of checking out.

The bright October sun blinds you for a moment when you step outside and you remember why this was your favorite time of year. The air is starting to lose the humidity of summer but isn’t cool enough to be uncomfortable yet. You hop in the taxi next to Bucky and hand the driver your address on a slip of paper. The man looks at it for a moment “This is a two hour drive, lady.” He says, concerned.

“Here, take my credit card and run it. I know it’s far but my car broke down.” You tell him.

Bucky gives you a look, wondering if the bit about your car is a lie. You raised an eyebrow at him, it is a lie but covering your tracks on the location of your home is critical.

“It’s your bill.” The taxi driver grumbles and pulls away from the curb into the busy city traffic.

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty @ladyemofhousestark @abswritesfandoms

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fandom #marvel fangirl #marvel avengers #post endgame #post avengers endgame #what he wants #series #part ten

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