#i just realised the other day that i hardly ever see people talk about stretch marks

[seijorhi]

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere keigo takami x reader #yandere touya todoroki x reader #tw character ‘death’ #tw dub con #soulmate au #I’m not even sorry #except I am #lmao last one I promise

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life Goes On

This if for @buckybarnesplumwhore​

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; grieving, funeral, breeding, handcuffs, warnings are not exhaustive so read at your own discretion.

This is dark! Andy Barber x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You volunteer at the local youth center but when one of the kids meets an unfortunate end, you cross paths with his father. No stranger to grief, you try to help him cope but find it a bigger than task that you expected.

Note: When I started writing, I had no plan. When I kept writing, there was still no plan. And then it just all kinda happened.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

It was too sunny for a funeral. A funeral come too soon.

The service was held out in the sun, rows of wooden chairs and a sombre old priest. You never knew if the Barbers were religious but it was easy to find a holy man in Massachusetts, as easy as those early years of settlement found in textbooks. 

There were no flowers, only two oblong caskets shrouded in black cloth, the name of each of the dead on silver placards, no pictures, no souvenir of who they were.

It was like Andy was already trying to forget them. He was at the front, the grieving widower and father. You were lost somewhere in the middle with his co-workers, there out of propriety more than empathy, and distant relatives who attended out of courtesy, some passing acquaintances who followed the story in the papers more than out of compassion. It was a spectacle and Andy had done his best from feeding the leering onlookers.

You knew Jacob more than his parents. He was younger than you, almost ten years apart. You knew him from the youth group you volunteered for, the same one you'd been in at his age. He was out of place there, he was from a better neighbourhood than the other kids, they called him the rich brat, and he resented himself more for it than he did them.

His attendance kept his mother happy. He didn't like the individual counseling, he didn't talk, so she put him in the group and he talked there. Sometimes. The kids never went on philosophical monologues but they understood each other and shared what they needed to.

Laurie was always late to pick him up. So he stayed to help stack the chairs and you ended up waiting with him, making sure he wasn't alone in the dark. He hated that at first too, until he realised you weren't on the stoop to council or judge. You were just two people, chatting to pass the time.

Sometimes Andy picked him up. He was friendlier than Laurie. Jacob's mother was always in a rush, even on her way home where there was no deadline. She said thanks, maybe, and drove off as she began to lecture Jacob about how he wore his hat. Andy offered you a ride, every time, as if he had some compulsion to be the good guy, the saviour. You always said no, the bus was a five minute ride to your building, fifteen minutes if you walked.

Now Jacob was dead, his mother too. Another tragedy inflicted upon those least likely. Even death didn't stop the whispers, even that venue, the priest's collar, the Biblical dirges, the grim family man in black did not silence them. It sickened you as the service ended and the people rose in a hushed murmur.

Andy left without talking to anyone. The procession of cars would drive through the streets with flags to mark the grieving on their way to the interment. It was as if Andy was doing what was expected more than what he felt he owed the deceased. He was ever the lawyer, formal and curt.

You followed the grey parade. Not out of obligation but out of genuine regret. Jacob seemed like a lost kid, even in death. The rumours, the accusations, the suspicion, followed him. The people didn't watch the dirt fall from the shovel to see him at peace, they watched it as some grand finale to the great show of the Barbers.

When the metal no longer cut and scattered the soil, the crowd thinned out. You stayed as the diggers packed up. You were sad for Jacob, for Laurie. Andy hadn't been there to see the burial. You couldn't blame him but you were surprised. He just disappeared after the service, apparently done with his part in the play. 

You went closer and stared at the new stone that stretched above both plots. Laurie Barber… and her son, Jacob Barber. May they rest. It was as short, as minimal as anything else about the affair. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. You didn't know if Jacob was a bad seed, it wasn't your job to make that call, but he had just been a kid and all that potential was now six feet down.

"Didn't think anyone would stick around," the dark figure stepped up beside you, his steps muted by the grass, "least of all, you."

"I'm sorry, I…" you looked at Andy and then the dirt, "I'll go."

"Wait," he said before you could move, "I thought-- I thought I wanted to be alone for this…" he shoved his hand in his pocket, "but I've been alone since it happened and I'm realising, I'm gonna be alone from here on out."

You didn't say a word. You didn't know what you could say. He'd heard a hundred apologies, a hundred condolences.

"I'm happy someone stayed, that someone cared," he cleared his throat, "thank you."

You nodded and played with the buttons on your cardigan.

"He was too. Happy, you know, that someone cared. I think back now and I realise that you probably saw him more than me. He was always excited to go to the centre but he got in that car and he just… deflated." He shook his head, "maybe this is better. One way or the other, he wanted to get away from me but he never could get away from Laurie. She wouldn't let him go."

He chuckled sardonically but it quickly fizzled in his throat.

"Sorry, I'm rambling…"

"You're processing," you said, "a lot of the kids down at the centre, they lost parents, one way or the other, orphans, fosters… I always told them that they didn't have to make sense because grief never really does."

"Now that makes a lot of sense," he said, "but you shouldn't have to listen to me."

"I shouldn't or you don't think you should say any of it?"

"Hmmm," he hummed, "yeah, maybe."

"I don't get paid to listen to those kids, I just get a time and a place to do so. This isn't different. It's just talking and a lot of that is just figuring things out. Listening is easy, you're doing the hard part."

"Jeez, you come up with this stuff on your own or is there some sort of how-to book?"

You lifted your chin and sucked in your lip. You could tell where Jacob got the bite from.

"Sorry, that was… mean," he said after the silence settled with the dirt, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said.

"You got somewhere to be?"

"No…" you answered cautiously.

"Do you think you might wanna listen to me a little more? I'll buy you a coffee for the trouble."

"You wanna talk? To me?"

"Better than anyone I do know," he snorted, "they all just give me that dumb look. They pity me, judge me. You don't have to say yes but I started now, if I stop, I'll...stop."

"Coffee?" You glanced over at him, "I'd rather tea."

"I'm sure they got that too," he fiddled with the trim of his pocket, "anytime you wanna bail, let me know."

"If I can handle teen angst, I think I can handle you."

🖤

That afternoon wasted away in the corner of a café. It felt like any other day but for Andy, you knew, it was likely the worst day of his life. Likely a day he wouldn’t forget. You sat patiently until the last of your tea was cold. He didn’t finish his coffee, he hardly even touched it. When you checked the time, he looked down embarrassed.

“It’s late,” he said, “I… I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

“I didn’t have anything to do. I doubt you did either,” you swept up the paper cup and your purse.

“No, really, I mean, you don’t know me. You knew Jacob and I just sat here and talked your ear off for hours. I--” he looked out the window, “I know that when I go home, the house will still be empty. That’s why I’m here.”

You looked past him as he turned back. You chewed your lip, “Andy, have you looked into counseling yet?”

“It feels… too early for that.”

“Too early?”

“I don’t want to let it go. Don’t want to let them go,” he sucked his hands in his pockets, “if I go, that’s what they’ll tell me to do.”

“No, they’d help you live with it, not forget it,” you said, “but I know, it’s scary. Have you done anything? Read anything?”

“Read?”

“Self-help isn’t for everyone and those dummy books aren’t great I admit, but sometimes a start is better than nothing. What about… a routine? Do you have one?”

“I work, I come home, I sleep, and try not to notice they’re gone,” he shrugged, “and repeat. Lot of overtime.”

“You’re still working?” you went to the door and he followed.

“Well, I talked to you. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”

You stepped out into the evening din and spun to look at him. You crossed your arms and stood across from him on the pavement.

“Well, unfortunately there’s an age limit down at the centre,” you said, “but I could give you a number for an adult group.”

“No, I don’t wanna talk to a group of sad parents and widowers. Just remind me how pathetic I really am,” he scoffed.

“Do you think that what you’re doing right now is better?”

“Do you have a degree in this?” he wondered, “what are you doing down at that youth centre talking to degenerates?”

“I have a certificate that says I’m good at listening, but no, I couldn’t afford a degree,” you dropped your arms, “but, will you come down? Sit in on a session. Just listen… for Jacob? It helped him, I think, after a while?”

“With the kids?”

“Yeah, with the kids,” you said, “maybe it will help you decide.”

“Decide what?”

“If you’re going to keep doing what you're doing; nothing, or if you’re going to try. Trust me, after a while, just sitting there, ignoring it, it gets old and it won’t get better.”

He looked down and stared at his leather shoe as he ground his toe into the pavement, “is that allowed? Am I allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not. I have parents sit in all the time.”

“But I’m not-- not anymore,” he gulped.

“You are,” you patted his arm gently, “you always will be.”

“What time?” he raised his head.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays at four-thirty. We do accept late arrivals. Kids come in and out. Usually hang out til seven before I let them go.”

“I think I can make that work,” he exhaled deeply, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me.”

You nodded and gave a bittersweet smile, “I miss Jacob too. I might be little more than a glorified babysitter but it means something to me. The kids… they feel like they’re mine sometimes. At least on those two nights a week.”

“Well…” he peered down the street, “you need a ride?”

You chuckled quietly, “you now, I think this time, I do.”

🖤

Andy was early. He took a chair near the wall as the kids flopped on the low sofas and into the colourful armchairs. A government grant had seen an upgrade in the lounge, although the kitchen needed some work as the cooking classes were still short on supplies. Dark circles darkened his eyes and the hairline wrinkles around them added to the hollow effect. He wasn’t sleeping.

You waited for the room to quiet. You greeted the kids and went through the usual ice breaker; one bad thing, one good thing, and one way they could improve the bad. Many of them were reluctant at first, they resisted what they thought were cheesy and inane exercises but they all came around. They were able to voice things that otherwise would be kept to themselves and they were afforded a respectful and often rapt audience.

When you finished, you kept from naming your own three. You looked at Andy.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I’m so forgetful. This is Andy,” you gestured to him, “he’s sitting in with us today. Andy, why don’t you tell us your bad thing, your good thing, and one thing you can do to improve the bad.”

He looked startled but he stood and cleared his throat. He glanced around at the kids and the shadow left his face. “Well, I lost a file, there were free bagels at work, and… I guess I could try to look again tomorrow.”

“Very good,” you smiled, “alright, my turn at last. My bad thing is I spilled tea on my shirt, my good thing is it’s a dark shirt, and my thing to improve is… wear a bib.” You laughed as you audience stay stone faced, “alright, alright, I’ll just be more careful and not run with hot liquids.”

You sat and started with Danica. She was always the most talkative, that encouraged the other kids. Today was no exception and you had to remind her to save some time for everyone else. Erik was next, then Andre, and Shamea. You almost didn’t notice Andy as he stood and sidled against the wall. Not until he was at the door, he looked back darkly and you saw his chest fall heavily. His nostrils flared and he was gone.

You tried not to show your disappointment, tried not to let the kids notice. They were all caught up in the circle and breaking it was never good. Shamea passed the stuffed bunny to Naima and you focused on her. Maybe it was too soon for Andy, you understood that, but you hoped too that he might have found a piece of Jacob there.

Before the kids left, you handed out the coloured markers and they each scribbled down a few words before a high-five. They passed through the open door in pairs and singles, and you bent to add your own note. You tucked the card into your bag and locked up. Jacob was usually the only one to hang around. Not anymore.

You headed out the front door with a wave to Martha at the front desk and took a gulp of the fresh evening air. There was someone sat on the flat stone at the bottom of the broad rail of the stairs. You recognised Andy as you neared, much too big to be a teen.

“I’m sorry,” he dabbed his nose with his sleeve, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in that room.”

“But you’re still here,” you said.

“I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging but… they all remind me of him,” he stood, “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies,” you opened your purse and searched, “I had the kids put this together. Actually, it was Milo’s idea. He didn’t know it was you but he wanted to send it in the mail--”

“What?” he took the card and opened it. He turned so he could read it in the yellow light of the street lamp, “oh my god.”

“Is it too much?”

“No, no,” he ran his thumb over the ink, “it’s…” he closed it and tucked it into his jacket, “the only other thing I’ve got is the bill for the caskets. It’s… amazing. Thank you.”

“Not at all. They always surprise me,” you said, “most of the time, in good ways.”

“You need a ride?” he checked his watch.

“I don’t live far,” you waved him off, “but I always appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and frowned, “and if… if I didn’t want to be alone? Would you grab a burger with me? Have you eaten?”

“Not since lunch, I, uh… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you said.

“You gotta be up early?”

“Nah, not too early.”

“What do you do? I mean, outside of this?” he turned and directed you to his car.

“Data entry,” you sighed, “it’s not very exciting but I work remotely and the pay is decent and I still have time for the kids.”

“It’s a living,” he said as the door locks clicked and you grabbed the handle, “no judgment. Trust me, being a lawyer, it’s really not as glamourous as it seems.”

🖤

Andy’s routine changed. He came around every Thursday and listened. After a few weeks, the kids figured out who he was. They didn’t treat him any differently and even invited him to join in on the teambuilding games you arranged. He wasn’t bad help as you welcomed a few new members from the group home.

That night, you weren’t feeling great. Even the kids hadn’t helped much. You were exhausted and nauseous. You blamed it on the late night shawarma. You said goodbye to the kids and packed up. Andy stacked the chairs without you asking, even when you told him not to.

You leaned heavily on the table and checked your phone before slipping it into your bag. You wiped your forehead and shivered. Some gravol, ginger ale, and sleep would be your indulgence that night.

“You okay?” Andy asked.

“Stomach thing,” you rubbed your middle, “nothing major.”

“You don’t look great,” he said, “well, I don’t mean it like-- are you sure--”

“Oh, gee,” you slid past him and out the door.

You ran to the restroom across the hall and into a stall. You wretched and the acid seared your throat. The bile bubbled in the toilet water and you shuddered. You heaved a few more times and rinsed your mouth in the sink.

Andy was waiting for you in the hall, “let me drive you tonight,” he insisted, “even if it’s just a block away.”

“I can’t even say no,” you grumbled as he handed you your purse.

“What’s wrong? You eat something?”

“I think,” you groaned as he held the door open and the cool air outside chilled the sweat on your neck, “urgh, I hope it’s only that.”

You got to his car and fell heavily into the seat. You slumped against the console as he started the car. He paused as the engine idled and felt your forehead. He nudged you back against the seat and turned his hand to press the back of his fingers to your cheek.

“You got a fever,” he said, “I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”

“Oh, those kids carry bugs like rats,” you muttered, “just take me home, I’ll get over it.”

He pulled out of his spot and you closed your eyes. You leaned against the window, frigid against your forehead and hugged yourself. You dozed off before he even turned out of the lot, the belt keeping you from folding over entirely.

🖤

You woke up between fresh linen. The sunlight was soft in its early hues. It wasn't your bed. You rolled onto your side and your stomach ached from how empty it was. You pushed back the thick duvet, you were sweating. You didn't remember more than the car ride and a few fuzzy glimpses of the bottom of a bucket. 

You were cold again and pulled the blanket back. The door was open and Andy filled it as if he'd heard your grumbles. He stood at the bottom of the bed in a pair of plaid pants and a blue tee.

"Why am I here?" You asked. 

"You fell asleep. You're sick. I couldn't just leave you outside your building," he said, "how are you feeling?"

"Bad," you replied curtly, "I can go," you sat up, "stop by the pharmacy, go hide in my own bed."

"You should stay here," he insisted, "just until the fever breaks."

"Really… ugh," you moaned as your belly clenched, "Andy, I should--"

"Lay down?" He came around and caught your shoulder, "I used to call in sometimes when Jacob was home sick. When he was a lot younger and… I stir up a man cup of noodles."

"You don't have to--"

"It's completely selfish," he interrupted, "it's been a long time since I had someone to take care of or at least it feels like it."

You were light-headed as you tried to stand but he kept you from getting to your feet, "I guess I can stay a little longer."

"Don't act like I don't owe you," he tutted, "now relax. I'll get you some soup. You need something in your system. I got some anti-nausea pills in the cupboard, too."

"Thanks but you don't owe me anything. I'm gonna owe you big."

"Why don't we just call it even then," he backed up, "seeing as that's my bed and my couch, it's really not made for sleeping." He stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, "especially at my age."

🖤

You stayed another night. You tried to convince Andy to let you take the couch instead but he was a lawyer and rarely lost an argument. It was easier to eat by the evening but you were still dizzy and you couldn't stop yawning. You'd never been so tired.

Despite your uneasiness at overstaying your welcome, you slept more heavily than before. Your guilt didn't keep you awake for long as you sank into a deep sleep and you woke slowly, a murmur escaping your lips as grogginess weighed you down. You were still so very tired but it was already morning.

You stretched and your wrist caught. You winced and tugged at your arm. You sat up in horror as you stared at the metal cuff attached to the hoop drilled into the headboard. You tugged until your arm hurt and your hand throbbed. What the fuck.

"Andy! Andy! What--"

"Shhhhh," Andy hushed you as he entered, "it's okay, you're okay."

"No, I'm not. What did you do?" You pulled again and the metal pinched your skin.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he said calmly.

"Unlock it. Let me go," you struggled as you kicked off the blankets, "Andy, what the fuck?"

"Hey, don't talk like that. It's...nasty."

"I don't understand," you began to pant, "why are you doing this?"

The panic crawled like tendrils up your neck and back. You twisted and pulled but the metal cuff didn't budge. You felt the bed shift and Andy grabbed your shoulder. He forced you down, pinning your other hand beside your head.

"I'm taking care of you," he said, "don't be so ungrateful."

"I can take care of myself. Let me go, please."

"No, you need me," he snarled, "like I need you."

"Andy, you're wrong--"

"Stop!" He covered your mouth, "stop! You don't know what you need. Now be still. Be quiet." He squeezed until your jaw hurt, "don't make this difficult."

He slowly lifted his hand and you didn’t move. You stared at his hand then looked at his face. There was a desperate anger in the depths of his oceanic eyes. He sat back and his jaw clenched as he watched you.

"I'm going to make breakfast. Be good. You need to eat." He backed off the bed and went to the door, "I mean it."

He left you and you listened until pans clinked and clanged in the kitchen below. You folded your thumb against your palm and tried to wiggle free of the cuff. It was too tight. There was only one other way out and you couldn't do it alone.

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" You screamed, "someone help me!"

The footsteps hammered up the stairs and Andy stormed in. He grabbed you and clamped his hand over your mouth again.

"Listen, no one can hear you, you got that? Windows are soundproof, but I really don't want to hear it so it's up to you if I gag you."

You blinked and your lip trembled against his hand. Your eyes rounded and you nodded stiffly. He tore his hand away and sighed as he clapped his hands on his legs in frustration.

"Good," he said quietly, "now, let's just hope," he stood and strode to the door, "that the bacon didn't burn."

🖤

You fell asleep again shortly after eating, even with the adrenaline and panic surging through your veins. You woke again in the afternoon. Your limbs were heavy but the fever was gone and your stomach felt better but you were still terribly tired. 

Andy was there. He had a leather file in his lap as he looked over papers and scratched his beard. He sensed your movement and looked over at you.

"Hungry?" He asked, "you slept through lunch."

"No," you smelled your sweat on the duvet, "but… can I have a shower? I haven't...since I got here."

"A shower?" He closed the folder and stood. He set it down and pursed his lips as he thought. "Fifteen minutes," he said as he dug around in his pocket, "I'll be here."

He unlocked the cuff and you rubbed your wrist as you sat up. He stayed close as you rose and stayed between you and the bedroom door as he pointed you to the bathroom.

"I don't have much for you to wear yet but you can take another one of my shirts," he said.

You nodded and closed the door between you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself to the wind. How was this the same man that you spoke to that day at the cemetery?

🖤

He slept beside you that night. You were on your side, your arm bound again by the cuff with the pillow between it and your head. You were uncomfortable, more so with him against your back. He wore only a pair of boxers. You shied away when he undressed and never looked at him again.

You dozed despite your nerves. You couldn't shake the drowsiness. You just felt more and more tired. When you opened your eyes, his arm was around you. He ran his fingers over your stomach, fingers crawling beneath the baggy tee shirt. You shivered and he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"I was thinking… well, I've been thinking for a while now, how happy we could be," he said, "I'm still young enough to try again, do it right and you… you're young, ready." His hand brushed up to your chest and he cupped your tit, "you're kind, you're caring, you're...beautiful. You’re my second chance."

“Andy,” your voice was brittle as your pulse beat furiously, “what you’re doing, it’s not right. You need to let me go.”

He went rigid and his hand stopped. He unsnaked his arm from around you and the springs coiled as he fell heavily onto his back. In the silence, you could only hear his steady breaths and a low growl.

“No, I’m helping you,” he said, “like you’ve helped me.”

“Andy, please,” you eased onto your back and looked over at him, “this isn’t how you fix this.”

“How do I?” he snarled, “huh? How? You don’t know!” he sat up and glared down at you, “you can’t know.”

“You think hurting me is helping me? That’s what you’re doing.”

“No, no, no,” he bent his legs as he grasped his head and gripped it as if it would crack, “No! I haven’t hurt you. I feed you, I keep you clean, I… I take care of you!”

“Andy,” you reached over shakily and touched his bare shoulder, “this isn’t what I want and I know you don’t want it either. You want someone who really loves you--”

“You love me!” he turned so quickly you yelped. He gripped your jaw tightly as he held himself against you, “you love me,” he pressed his lips to yours and you murmured in surprise, “you love me,” it was a maddened chant as he pulled back, “...love me.”

“And--”

His hand flew up to smother you and he lifted himself over you. His knees pressed to your legs until they parted and his other hand explored your curves through the rumpled cotton. You squeaked and tensed against his touch, your wrist chafing from the cuff.

“Shhh,” he hushed as he pushed the shirt up.

He kept his hand on your mouth as he slid down your body and left a trail of kisses along your torso as he unveiled it. He bunched the tee above your chest and bent to dote on your tits. You shuddered and pushed on his head as you mumbled into his palm.

His fingers tickled along your side and hooked into the side of the drawstring shorts he gave you. He tugged until the string snapped and edged them down as he continued to tend to your chest. You kicked around him and felt his bulge as he leaned into you.

He ripped his hand away and sat up. He grabbed the waist of the shorts and wrenched them down your legs, quickly taking his between them again. You wriggled and batted out at his chest as his thumbs pressed against your hip bones and his hands crept down to knead your thighs.

“I can start again,” he brushed his fingers down your vee and you trembled as they danced along your cunt.

“No, Andy, please, you can still stop--”

“Shhhh, honey,” he pushed between your folds and you gasped, “it’s okay. I’ll still take care of you,” he glided over your cunt and made you twitch, “and the baby.”

He poked along your entrance and you whined helplessly as you reached to the cuff and pulled with both arms. Every muscles in your strained as you tried to break free of the headboard. He pushed a finger inside of you and you cried out.

“Andy, stop, please, no--”

He added another finger and slipped them in and out of you as he purred. You looked at his face and it sent a chill through you. His eyes were dark and clung to the movement of his hand, his brow set and his jaw squared with his intent. He wasn’t the grieving widower, he wasn’t the man lost and lonely, he was a monster.

“That’s it,” he turned his hand and flicked your clit with his thumb, “you want me. I feel it.”

You looked away as your wetness spread to his knuckles and along your folds. He kept his thumb moved as he curled his fingers inside of you and the pressure built as the tip of his touch. You gritted your teeth and shook your head helplessly.

“No,” you whispered, “no, no, no…”

He took his hand away suddenly and you felt empty. He lifted himself on his knees and rolled down his boxers. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, you only saw the silhouette of his nudity.

He pushed your thighs apart and spread himself over you, his elbow just beside you as he felt around between your bodies. His hot breath grazed your cheek and he kissed it firmly as he angled his tip between your folds. Your thighs clenched around him in a futile act of resistance as he found your entrance.

He pushed inside slowly and brought his other arm up beside you. He forced your head straight and you squeezed your eyes shut. He cradled your head between his hands and his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “open your eyes. Look at me.”

“Andy,” you murmured as he slowly got deeper, “please--”

“Look at me,” he demanded, “look at me!”

Your eyes snapped open and met his stormy blue ones. He bucked his hips and impaled you completely. You exclaimed and grasped his thick bicep in shock, your other hand balled above the cuff. Your legs bent around his thick thighs as you tried to stop him.

“God, you feel so good,” he purred as he began to rock, “don’t I feel good too?”

Your lashes fluttered away the rising tears and you sucked your lip in to keep from making a sound. You could look away as he held your head straight, his hand clamping around your jaw as he other arm bent beneath yours.

The room echoed with the noise of his flesh slapping yours as he sped up, his grunts and groans interlaced with the sickening symphony. You quivered as his pelvis rubbed against yours and stoked the heat in your core. You could not hold back the illicit response of your body as he ravaged it.

Your breath grew heavier and he gulped it down as he kissed you again, forcing his tongue between your lips as he devoured you. The whole bed moved in time with your body and the headboard knocked against the wall as his thrusts came closer and closer together and he buried himself as deep as he could with each tilt of his hips.

He drew his mouth away and pressed his cheek to yours as his muscles tensed and he puffed into the pillow, “this is it, honey. It all starts here.”

“Ah, please…” your voice fizzled and smothered your moan against his shoulder as your body spasmed. Your legs bent around him firmly as you orgasmed and your body arched beneath his desperately.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it. You take me so well. See… it was meant to… be.”

His breaths grew more rampant with his rhythm. His hand slipped down to cradle your cheek and his thumb stroked your flesh tenderly as he dipped into you over and over. His deep groans grew louder around you. He jerked into you sharply and his motion stuttered. He gripped your hip and held you down as he sheathed himself in your walls. 

He quaked as his hips slowed and he flooded you. He exhaled and as his lungs emptied, the strength left him entirely and he lowered himself over you weakly. His body pressed yours into the mattress, your sweat and his turned sticky as the air settled over you.

He stayed like that for what felt like forever. He moved slowly to lift himself up and he sat back, watching his dick slide out of you. Your thighs shook as your legs splayed around him. You felt his cum leak from you and he dragged his fingers along your cunt and scooped it back into you, coating his fingers in as he pushed them past your entrance once more. He smiled at the wet sounds of your cunt.

“That felt like the one,” he said, “but we can try again...”

He pulled his fingers out of you and admired the slickness that glistened over them. He reached down and gripped his dick, half-soft and spent. He winced as he began to stroke himself and let out stifled moans between his teeth.

“Maybe this time,” he purred as he angled himself inside of you again and lifted your legs against his torso. He bit his lips as he trembled, his cock oversensitive and overworked, “as many times as it takes, honey.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #one shot #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

[miss-smutty]

Forbidden

Chapter 3

A/N- Evey couple of chapters you will get Professor Hemsworth's POV and this is the first one 🥵 I really wanted to write his story and hear his thoughts too.

Summary- He can't get her out of his mind, the girl in the coffee shop. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 2.9K

Pairing- Prof!Hems X Reader

Warnings- Age gap (OC is 20) student/professor relationship, swearing, dirty talk

18+ Only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle @help2700 @presidentpotts

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chris Pov

My Apartment was silent as usual, empty like always when I arrived home from work, throwing my coat and bag on to the sofa and slumping down next to them.

I couldn't stand the silence, it taunted me and brought back memories I'd rather not remember. I'd thought about getting a roommate but still hadn't gotten around to posting out an ad, the idea made me nervous. Although I hated being alone, living with a stranger would be even worse. I turned on the TV to fill the expanse of the large empty room that I'd work so hard for but ultimately meant absolutely nothing to me.

My mind began to wander back to this morning and the chance meeting with the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She'd taken my breath away and made me so nervous that I'd used some cheesy chat up line. I'd known at the time it would come back to haunt me tonight, no wonder she ran out of there as soon as she could. Thats why I hesitated, my hand brushed against the small of her back when I was about to ask her for her number and it took away my sensibility. I leaned in like I was about to kiss her, thank god I stopped myself though, how ridiculous would that have been?

I'd spoke to her for no more than ten minutes but somehow felt like I'd known her all my life. Asking for her number wouldn't have been the most unusual thing but she was in such a rush and I didn't want to make her late. There's absolutely nothing more I hate than tardiness.

I still couldn't get her off of my mind, she was beautiful, long dark hair that flowed down her back and the most piercing green eyes I'd ever seen. I couldn't stop looking into them, framed by dark eyelashes that made the emerald green pop even more. It's been a long time since I'd met a woman that made me feel as nervous as she did. The only thing is, she was young, much younger than me and I'd be fooling myself to think I'd actually stand a chance with her. Even if by some miracle I did, she deserved more than what I could give her, I was a mess, even after all this time I was still living in the past.

**********

I woke up feeling like a teenage boy again, a tent of my erection in the cotton sheets sprawled across my middle. I'd dreamt about the girl all night and honestly nothing about it was innocent. I rubbed at my eyes and stretched my muscles before finally getting out of bed, I had my first Junior Comms class to teach today and of course, I couldn't be late.

To say I was dreading today would be an understatement, I'd made a deal with the Dean to teach the Comms class because none of the other professors were willing and I was desperate for a job. I was hoping that if I exceeded expectations during my first semester I would finally get to teach psychology like I'd planned in the first place. Of course that meant being on my best behaviour and a lot of arse kissing, which I would do, albeit reluctantly.

The air was crisp this morning as I set off walking towards the university, luckily for me I didn't live to far away from the campus and the walk would help distract my thoughts because God knows they needed distracting. They always did.

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the halls, looking up at the architecture of the building and realising my idea to walk obviously hadn't worked. I'd barely paid attention the entire time and it was only muscle memory that had gotten me to my required destination.

I held onto the door handle of the lecture hall and took a deep breath before stepping in, the room erupting into wolf whistles was not what I expected but admittedly better than what I was thinking. I scanned the room and my students, rolling my eyes at the girls lining the front row, their eager faces taking me in. 

The class was full of typical students, the usual cliques you see at every educational institution. The jocks and cheerleaders, the nerds and oh fuck. The air was almost knocked from my lungs when I spotted her sat at the back of class. The girl I'd been talking to in the coffee shop yesterday, the girl that had been on my mind and in my dreams ever since. She was here, right in front of me which meant she was my student and younger than I'd actually thought. Fuck.

Even though she was now out of bounds I couldn't take my goddamn eyes off of her, the way her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders. I could feel my cock tingling when my eyes fell to her low cut top and that unreal cleavage. I pulled my eyes away from her so as not to draw attention and focused on preparing for the lesson, leaving the students to whisper for a while longer while I recovered my composure.

Like a magnet, my eyes unwillingly kept finding their way back to her and she looked uncomfortable, squirming in her seat. I was making her uncomfortable and I still couldn't stop myself, I frowned as I subtly watched her cheeks blush and realised she's probably embarrassed because she'd been flirting with her Professor. Of course she'd be embarrassed, I was so much older than her but was it wrong that I didn't feel one ounce of awkwardness at the fact I had been flirting with a student?

All I could think about as I watched her tits bounce as she moved In her seat, was burying my face in her cleavage and I knew I had to look away before my dick reacted. The last thing I needed in a class full of students was to be walking around with a fucking erection.

I could stand there and watch her all day but certain students had stopped talking and they were waiting for me to speak and I'd almost forgotten why I was here In the first place. I really needed to get my head in the game, being infatuated with a student would definitely not get me the promotion I was looking for.

I pushed my hands in my tight pockets, hoping to stretch the fabric a little so my semi-hard dick wasn't so apparent, then my eyes were drawn to her again and she was talking to Jake. That pissed me off and I could feel my jaw tensing as I cleared my throat rather forcibly, hoping to get the attention of the whole class at the same time as distracting her from the rather friendly conversation she was having with another guy. A guy her age at that.

"Now I've got your attention, we're going to use our first session to get to know each other a little better. You'll be doing quite a lot of speeches so it's best if you feel comfortable with one another. I'll start by introducing myself." I looked at her again, gulping hard when I saw her with the end of her pen in her mouth and the way her lips wrapped around it. Fuck. "So, I'm Professor Hemsworth and I'm originally from Melbourne in Australia." I looked to her and she smiled, remembering what we spoke about yesterday.

A student started with the typical Australian stereotypes although I'm actually surprised no one told me to throw another shrimp on the Barbie. I laughed along anyway, I'd been expecting it, it's literally the first thing anyone who isn't Australian says when they first meet me. So when I told him it wasn't very original I meant it, I'd heard it a thousand times before and I'll hear it a thousand times again.

I told the class a little about myself before informing them they would do the same, it didn't go down well, the room filled with groans. I looked to her and she looked downright terrified, I sympathized for her, it wasn't easy speaking in front of a room full of people but was the best way to break the ice.

"Claire Abbott." I called, watching the blonde at the front stand, nervously. She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger as she smiled at me, I knew what she was doing. I quickly glanced at the girl from the coffee shop as she rolled her eyes at the blonde at the front, I smirked back at her, amused at her tolerance for predictable girls.

"I erm… I don't know what to say?" The blonde said, looking at me questioningly.

"Just anything about yourself that we might find interesting, the first thing that comes to mind."

"Well I own four horses and I'm the cheer captain." I had to stop myself from laughing when she rolled her eyes again but the smile soon disappeared when I saw Jake lean over to speak to her and the way she laughed at him made my blood boil. I was seething, not because they were speaking instead of listening but because she was speaking to him instead of me.

"You two at the back, we'll wait for you shall we?" I called them out, my voice more stern than I expected. I was pissed off that Jake would easily be able to get to know her and I couldn't. She stared at me, her eyes wide, she was surprised I'd called them out in front of everyone which made me even more pissed off because that probably blew my chances even more. What the hell am I thinking? What chances, I need to remember I'm her fucking Professor.

She sat silently through the rest of the class, I still couldn't keep my eyes off of her and thankfully neither could she. She looked flustered and I liked it, I liked that I could make her feel that way without even touching her. She was so goddamn hot I could hardly concentrate on what the other students were saying.

When I glanced down at the sheet of names in front of me and saw Jake's name my jaw clenched.

"Jake Hudson." I couldn't help narrowing my eyes as he stood up, I just knew he'd say something cocky and I was so fucking jealous of him right now. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, I needed to keep my cool, especially in a room full of students and her. If she knew what I was really like she wouldn't look at me the way she did.

"Hi, I'm Jake." I bit onto the inside of my gum, that bit of pain keeping me grounded. "I'm also from Australia." He gave me that fucking cocky half arsed smile I'd been waiting for and the adrenaline shot through me. I was thankful no one noticed apart from maybe the one person in here I didn't want to notice. She was watching me carefully. I had to loosen my tie a little as he continued to speak, I was burning up with rage.

I'm glad class was almost over, I needed a stiff drink and I needed it now. I looked at my sheet of names again and there were only a couple left, I wondered which one was hers. I needed to know her name. Fuck. I needed to know everything about her.

"Jessica Watson." She stood up. Fuck, Jessica, it was a cute name and fit her perfectly. I was mesmerized with her and the way she spoke as she tucked her long hair behind her ears. "These last couple of days have been pretty eventful for me." She looked right at me, what was she going to say? "I'm living the life of a romance novels heroine and I'm excited to see what the next couple of days bring." Oh fuck. Was she talking about meeting me? Or Jake? I like to think by the way she studied me as she spoke, she was talking about me. This was wrong, so wrong but why did it feel so right? I forgot there was anybody else in the room, my cock twinging as I pictured myself fucking her on this desk. I needed to stop thinking like this, it's unprofessional and completely immoral. I shook my head and turned back to the class.

"I hope we all feel a bit more comfortable with each other now, some of you shared some pretty revealing things." I looked at Jessica. "Some of you, not so much." Then raised my eyebrows at a group of guys in the middle of class that had used thier time to inform everyone about the party at their frat house this weekend. "I'll have a schedule for you all next time I see you, anybody that has any questions can see me after class, everyone else is free to leave." I looked at her one last time, hoping she'd use this opportunity to come and speak to me.

I sighed when I sat back at my desk and a group of girls took their opportunity, I wasn't in the mood for it but answered their questions anyway. I didn't take my eyes from Jessica, especially when Jake started speaking to her again. The girls in front of me were taking up my time, trying to flirt with me instead of asking relevant questions and I was over it.

"Do you actually have any questions about the course ladies? I have other things to be getting on with if not." I was a little short with them without actually meaning to be. I just wanted them out of my goddamn way so I could see what was going on with Jessica and Jake.

The girls finally left, more like stormed off but I couldn't care less right now. She was still sat at her desk which means she waited until I was alone which has got to be a good sign. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence driving me insane so I cleared my throat and she blinked like I'd woken her from a daydream. What was she thinking about?

She packed up her things into her bag slowly, I could tell she was buying herself time but I felt relaxed now we were alone, in fact I felt excited which was completely ridiculous. I felt like a damn teenager.

"Did you need to talk Miss Watson?" I was amused and I needed to break the ice before the silence got the better of me. I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

"I erm…" She walked towards me, down the stairs, looking at her feet. She was unsteady and looked nervous as hell, was she going to tell me to back off? "I wanted to apologise, I had no idea you were a Professor." She stood at the bottom of the stairs, I was glad she wasn't too close. I don't know if I'd be able to control myself around her and lord knows I had to. The atmosphere was tense, neither of us really knowing what to say or do, all I could think about was ripping off her clothes.

"There's no need to apologise Miss Watson, I also had no idea you were a student but I was hoping to bump into you again. Funny how things work out isn't it?" I cocked my eyebrow at her, testing her, seeing how she would react to my comment. Something changed and she didn't look quite so nervous anymore.

"I think fate can be rather cruel Professor Hemsworth." The way she called me Professor stirred something deep inside me, a hunger I didn't know I had and when she moved closer to me I began to feel nervous.

"Oh really? Why is that Miss Watson?" She was so close now, I could smell her sweet scent of coconut shampoo. I wanted to touch her badly, I didn't though. I didn't dare because I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to stop myself and I must restrain, she's my student after all. It's wrong. It's forbidden.

I still couldn't stop myself from flirting, like an uncontrollable impulse and as soon as I opened my mouth to try and be professional I would just go right ahead and flirt. She was so outrageously attractive but the kind of attractive where she didn't know it and didn't flaunt it, which I found even more endearing.

"I was hoping to bump into you again too, only now the thought of what could've happened will have to remain a fantasy." My restraint was really being tested now, she was teasing me, egging me on and the fact she'd also been fantasising about me made it extra difficult to resist. I had to loosen my tie again, I needed my fingers to be busy so I didn't touch her. I had an internal conflict going on inside my mind and it was like torture, if this was day one of class how the hell was I meant to survive the whole semester?

"I better get to my next class, we can't have anyone thinking I'm your favourite now can we?" Fuck sake. I ground my teeth together, I was glad she was leaving, I couldn't take the tension any longer but at the same time I knew, with distance the desire would only intensify. She turned to leave and I couldn't stop myself watching her hips sway as she walked, her ass was so round and bouncy, it hypnotised me and that's when I knew I was in deep trouble.

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #chris hems x oc #chris hems x you #chris hemsworth thor #chris hemsworth x ofc #chris hemsworth x oc #chris hemsworth imagine #professor #professor x #professor x student

[whitexwingedxdoves]

losing grip | one shot

Pairing: Maggie Rhee x Platonic! Reader Warnings: Language, Angst. Summary: It had been years since your best friend disappeared and you never thought that when she returned, it would end up in an argument.  A/N: ahhhhhhhhh, I hope you all like this one! I worked really hard on it and it’s an idea i’ve had for the longest time. 

It was quiet in Alexandria today, the wall was almost finished and the new builds were well underway.  Standing in your kitchen, you hovered over Negan who attempted to work some kind of magic on the pipes under your kitchen sink. It seemed like he was finally finished after making a few comments on how clogged your drain had become.

“So is it fixed now?” you seemed a little short with the former saviour but he still managed to strike up that obnoxious smile, wiping away any dirt from his hands with one of your fresh hand towels.

“All done.” He threw the towel to the side and flicked the tap on to prove his handy work.

This time you offered him a genuine smile and the room filled with silence. You were still trying to get used to Negan being a part of the group and it was hard but you had to try, you promised Judith. Which is why you accepted his offer to help with your plumbing.

But it’s hard to let someone in when they took someone away from you.

“Better go,” he spoke softly before pushing past you, making his way to the door. You nodded in his direction and watched as the door closed behind him.

You had never felt so conflicted before, on one hand you hated Negan more than you’ve ever hated anyone but on the other hand, he was proving that he was trying to change and you couldn’t deny what he had done for the community.

You couldn’t dwell too much, the sound of your door reopening caught your attention. It was Carol this time, a welcomed distraction.

“Knock knock.” Her perky spirit only confirmed her visit was a good one. Thank god. “You have a visitor!”

With her ominous words, you cocked a brow and peaked around her as she pushed your door back open.

You recognised that face instantly.

The day Maggie left you were on a run, the details of that day had been lost throughout the years but the one thing that remained sketched on your memory was the way you felt when Enid broke the news that your best friend had left, without a word. For years you’d cooked up the perfect speech for when Maggie finally returned, if she ever did. You’d rehearsed it in the shower, in bed at night when it seemed impossible to fall asleep and every moment in between the words you had so carefully thought out would play on repeat in the back of your mind.

Now, with Maggie Rhee standing right in front of you, your carefully thought out speech seemed to completely disappear along with all the anger you held. None of it mattered now because she was there, right in front of you... in the flesh. That infectious smile gleaming on her face as if nothing happened. It broke you. You ran into her arms and held her so close that you were sure if she was any closer you’d become one person.

Tears stained her shirt as you sobbed into her shoulder, she was crying too which only made you sob harder. You never wanted to let go, scared she might take off again if you did and you most definitely wouldn’t let anyone or anything take her away from you now that you had her back.

Eventually, you did let go and when you did you noticed that Carol had left, giving you both space to really catch up.

“I’ve missed you,” you managed to whisper.

Maggie’s head dropped a little, a look of guilt washing away her smile. It seemed a lot was being unsaid, but neither you nor Maggie felt now was the right time to bring it up.

“So, what do you get up to?” you forced small talk, guiding the woman to your dining table and offering her a seat.  

“Everything” she laughed, taking a seat right beside you.

You laughed along with her, it was nice to hear her laugh again... it was nice to hear her again. You fumbled with your fingers, picking at the dead skin at the sides of your fingernails.

You can tell Maggie was feeling some type of way, her body was closed off and she could barely even look you in the eye.

“Maggie, it’s-“ just as you opened your mouth, you noticed the expression on the widow change and she cut you off.

“How could you just let him into your home like that?” Finally she looked you in the eyes but just not in the way you had expected.

 “After everything he’s taken from us!” Her eyes seemed to fill with tears but you knew by the way her words hissed, they weren’t tears of sadness. She was mad and confused. You could hardly blame her but yet you still bit at her words.

“Are you kidding me right now? Maggie you’ve been gone for years!” A squeak broke your voice and your tears matching Maggie’s “You have no idea what we’ve dealt with, what we’ve done to make sure we stay safe.” You could feel your heart beating out of your chest and tried desperately to stabilize your breathing but it didn’t seem to work. 

“And you think Negan is the answer to that?” The woman scoffed, shaking her head. You had only ever seen her this mad once. 

“Negan has done more for this community recently than anyone else. He put Alexandria first when the rest of us were too wrapped up in our own bullshit, so yes Maggie, he was the answer!” It felt like a fever dream, never had you imagined you’d plead Negan’s case to the women whose life he destroyed. 

Maggie’s face seemed to harden, her jaw clenched and the tears just stopped rolling down her face. Her head slowly tilted in your direction and it seemed like a lifetime had passed since someone had spoken. Once her eyes settled on yours a tear finally fell and she spoke in the softest tone you had known her to use “So is that enough to forgive him for what he’s done or have you just forgotten?” 

You were in pure disbelief. Have you forgotten? It seems like she had forgotten. 

“How dare you say that, I lost people too because of him! It wasn’t just you!” Perhaps you shouldn’t have said that. You did lose people but she lost the most. 

There it was again, that silence. You had to break it, you couldn’t allow yourself to dwell on your words. “You left me Maggie, you left me on my own” You whispered, wiping away the fresh tears with your thumb. It was like you were reliving the moment, like you were right back at Hilltop being told by Enid that your best friend had gone. 

You pushed away from the table and paced the room, chewing your bottom lip as you thought over your words. “You didn’t even tell me you were going! You just left me when I needed you the most!” Turning to finally meet Maggie’s gaze, you were taken back by her expression. 

She looked so sad, which in return made you feel guilty. You hated that it was your doing that she felt that way, almost making you forget why you said those things in the first place.

“I needed to get away,” Maggie snapped but the look of regret never left her face.

A scoff left your lips as you listened to her poor excuse “You’re all I have left in this world, Maggie and you just left because you couldn’t handle it? I could have gone with you if-“

“No.” Taken back by her words, you furrowed your brow as you waited for her explanation but it never seemed to come.

“What do you mean, no?” You were scared of her answer but you needed it. Maybe it would help you get over six years of being in the dark. 

“I couldn’t be near you.” It felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest. You struggled to find air and instantly fumbled for something to hold onto.  “You remind me everything I’ve lost” It was like she was trying to soften the blow but it only made it worse. 

You clutched onto the kitchen counter behind you and used it as an aid to control your breathing but for the second time today, the sound of your front door swinging open became a welcomed distraction. 

This time it wasn’t Carol. 

A little boy ran across your kitchen and into the arm’s of Maggie and there was no confusion on who that little boy was. 

Hershel. 

You watched as he wrapped his arms around his mother with a smile that matched hers. It was almost as if you were dreaming. The last time you saw Hershal Rhee, he was struggling to walk and form sentences and giggling at your attempts to play peek-a-boo. 

“Mommy, is this Auntie Y/N? The one you always talk about?” The boy questioned his mother, finally looking over at you. 

God did he melt your heart. 

Your eyes filled with tears, as Maggie nodded at the small child. With confirmation on who you were, Hershel giggled remembering a story his mother once told him about how scared you were of chicken’s when she had first met you. You’d have laughed too. 

He was wearing a baseball cap, just like the ones that Glenn used to wear, and it broke your heart just looking at him. 

He looked so much like his father that it hurt to look for too long but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him. That’s when you realised that Maggie would never accept Negan, despite what good he’s done or will do, she had a constant reminder of what he was capable of. 

Hershel pushed away from his mother and walked in your direction. When he got closer, he stretched his arms out, welcoming you into a hug and you caved instantly. 

You wrapped your arms around the boy and held him tightly, just hoping you weren’t hurting him. With all you had, you held back the tears and pulled away from Hershel when he squirmed slightly but still gave you his best smile when you came face to face. 

“Mommy was excited to see you again!”  He looked over his shoulder, just to make sure he hadn’t stepped out of place with his words because just like his name sake, he was taught to be polite, after all he was part Greene. 

You too looked over at Maggie and watched as her eyes softened at his words, only slightly peering up at you. 

“We were both excited.” Hershel corrected himself.  

Maggie fumbled with her back pockets, keeping her tears at bay as she watched the wholesome moment unravel. It was good for her son to be here, around the people who helped her get to this point but the lingering thought of Negan made it hard for her to fully commit to her return home. 

“Mommy, can I go play with RJ?” Once his mother gave him a nod, Hershel’s face lit up and he made a run for the door. 

Without a second thought, the two of you followed him outside, stopping at the railings of your porch to quietly observe. There was something infectious about the way the two boys laughed as they played, so much so you found yourself giggling along with them, Maggie too.

“I'm not asking you for forgive Negan” You watched as your words ripped the smile from Maggie’s face but she didn’t dare look at you just yet “I just want you to be happy” you whispered trying to catch her gaze “You deserve to be happy, you both do” 

Maggie finally looked up at you, doe eyed as a small smile took its place on her lips again. You offered her the same smile.

A lot of things were said the day Maggie came back but in time you’d soon forget them and all you’d remember was the way you and your best friend laughed along to the sound of children playing.

#Maggie greene #maggie rhee #maggie rhee x reader #maggie greene x reader #maggie rhee x you #maggie greene x you #maggie rhee x y/n #maggie greene x y/n #the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead maggie #twd maggie #maggie rhee fanfiction #maggie greene fanfiction #twd maggie fanfic

[firefly-in-darkness]

Worst Idea Ever [Part Four]

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Series Summary → Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what’s the worst that could happen?

Part FourSummary → Y/N takes Bucky to a place from her past, meeting people that he never imagined Y/N to be friends with and someone else from her past tries to come back into her life.

Word Count → 3k.

Part Two Warnings → 18+, swearing, angst, jealousy, illusion to sexy things. Two idiots.

Beta → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Series Taglist  → Open, just drop me an ask!

A/N → And once again, I wrote the first draft and left it in my docs like I’d posted it... thank you @whitestarbucky​ for being late to the party and reminding me that I actually hadn’t posted it.

Series List // Marvel List // Masterlist

Previously in Part Three: He sunk back into the pillow, his hand dragging down his face. Bucky wasn’t sure what the billionaire genius was referring to, but he felt guilty for whatever Y/N had to witness of him and Jackie. He thought going home with someone else would help quash his feelings but now that he was sober, he knew that it was a stupid idea. He only felt guilt and remorse for what had happened the previous night.

Hooking up with a woman in front of Y/N was the worst idea ever.

The breeze from the rental car window was just enough to keep Y/N alert as she drove the last stretch of their five-hour journey, well maybe a bit longer if you counted going through the whole airport process. Y/N had felt tense the second she met Bucky at JFK and the thought of being confined to a small space that was thousands of feet in the air.

Y/N didn’t want to talk about how things had become uncomfortable after Peter and Gwen’s rehearsal dinner. She was embarrassed but she also had avoided the subject completely when she met him the next day for the wedding. Bucky’s familial duties took him away from her which, to her benefit, meant that she hardly saw him. 

The celebration was enjoyable but there was an annoying voice in the back of her head telling her to talk to Bucky about everything. But she couldn’t, he was her friend of over a decade. Plus, now that they were on their way to another wedding, it had already been three weeks since they last saw each other. 

Bucky had probably forgotten about the incident, and he was too drunk to see that he and Jackie hurt her. She should just brush it under the carpet, right?

The journey wasn’t as bad as Y/N thought; she was able to lose herself in her book or the music playlist that Nat had sent to her a few days ago. ‘Perfect for long journeys’, she’d said. All the while, Bucky lounged in the seat beside her, reading on his kindle or chatting about the usual nonsense that was his dating life.

It was as if nothing had happened, nothing had changed, and Y/N knew that she was just overthinking the possibility of them crossing the line of friendship. It was only a side effect of their fake dating arrangement and being in romantically charged places.

The motel parking lot gravel crunched under the tyres as Y/N pulled in. Relief flooded her and she sluggishly climbed out, stretching her arms high and shaking out her legs. The freedom from the cramped space behind the wheel didn’t alleviate heaviness in her muscles and all that she craved was a nap.

Bucky headed to the reception to pick up the key, and within minutes they were able to access the room, and Y/N instantly flopped face-first onto the bed. Kicking her shoes off and shuffling up the mattress, she pulled the side of the duvet and rolled over into a cocoon and let the nap take hold of her.

Bucky clambered through the door with Y/N’s luggage as well as his own, muttering to himself about her being a lazy pain in his ass. But when he saw her peacefully sleeping form on the bed, he couldn’t help but smile. The way she had cocooned herself in the covers, and how her soft snores puffed out her lips; it was adorable.

Then the guilt reared its head. He’d tried to approach the subject of the rehearsal dinner at the airport but from the tension in her body and the intense focus on reading her book, he knew that she wouldn’t talk. She was embarrassed, and he would have been too if he’d been caught with a sex toy at a rehearsal dinner.

Deep down, he knew something else was bothering Y/N. She was too focused on the road ahead instead of listening to his woeful attempts at dating. His thoughts kept reverting to the moment he kicked Jackie out after awaking to Y/N’s text messages; he felt like he’d upset Y/N, disappointed her but wasn’t that what this was all about? They were being one another’s company until they found someone they wanted to date. That’s what this was.

Since Peter’s wedding, fond moments Bucky had shared with Y/N had started to dance behind his eyes. Their shared memories from over the years playing on repeat at night. Making breakfast together while the rest of their friends groaned about their hangovers in the other room, the candid way she’d grab his prosthetic arm and he always felt a rush of warmth when he realised that once again, it didn’t bother her. 

That was before all the technological adaptations to connect to his nervous system. She touched his arm like it was real. And once those adaptations were made, Bucky felt her tender touch and the soft skin of her palm. He felt at ease, calm, at peace even, with her compared to the rest of the people in his life, the world. He was whole with her.

A horn blasted in the parking lot and caught Bucky’s attention before he refocused on Y/N’s sleeping form. Bucky wasn’t sure about his feelings anymore, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of their pact or whether Y/N felt something more. He could be just imagining it. She had never judged him, had always been by his side at college. 

They were partners in crime, as thick as thieves. And since then, they’d drifted into a more casual friendship but maybe there could be something there. Stop it. He berated and carried on unloading the car, focused intently on collecting their belongings.

Y/N felt better than before but she still felt drowsy, and the flickering television showing an old western film lulled her further into the bed. Absentmindedly, she pulled Bucky’s arm around her shoulder and nuzzled into his chest. The smell of his cologne added to the comfort she already found herself in, then she realised what she had done.

Now that she was there, she didn’t know what to do, she was frozen in place. She could remove her arms from his waist, or maybe pretend she was still asleep and roll away again. The embarrassment tingled at her cheeks and the feel of his toned stomach under her forearm made her core ache with want. She snapped out of it when she felt Bucky shuffle away from her.

“Erm, what are you doing?” Bucky frowned at her, seriousness in his features.

“It’s just a hug, I’m half asleep, chill out.” Y/N pretended to not let the hurt of rejection show and put it back onto Bucky, “Do you not like cuddles or something?”

Bucky unfurled his arm and shook his head at her, “I don’t wanna cuddle you.” 

Y/N sighed dramatically and flopped back onto bed dramatically, “Fine, don’t crawl over to me when it gets cold in here tonight.”

Bucky had lied, he did like cuddles. He wanted to cuddle Y/N with every fibre of his being. He didn’t want to get used to it, to the feel of Y/N’s warm body pressed against him, only to have it be taken away. He didn’t want to miss her touch once he had been graced with it. He wasn’t good enough for her, anything more than friendship wouldn’t work. It surely couldn't?

He turned off the television and decided to leave her to sleep in peace. He knew for certain that the next time she woke up, she’d be cranky because she hadn’t eaten. With the fear of Y/N throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old, he headed out into the town to find some food for the drama queen.

Bucky threw on his jacket and grabbed the keys, Y/N’s phone flashing drew his attention. A notification: an envelope with Dean bolded beside it. He knew that he wouldn’t read it, no matter how tempting the voices in the back of his head were telling him to see what had happened since Y/N and Dean’s rendezvous at Darcy’s wedding.

Bucky, annoyed at the taunting notification, he knew Y/N’s password, it was the same for everything and he’d constantly scolded her for that. But he’d never invade her privacy. And right now, he needed to get out of the room. It was stifling and it felt like the walls had closed in around him. Y/N’s soft snores had become irritating as the recurring feeling of jealousy took over and he stormed out of the room.

A group of large men covered in tattoos with long beards, unmistakably their Harleys resting in the parking bay out the front of the venue made Y/N feel like she was finally home. It wasn’t the usual aesthetic for a wedding reception and maybe Y/N should have warned Bucky. Where’s the fun in that? She thought as she reached the entrance, but Bucky was no longer beside her.

Y/N turned to find his confused face across the sidewalk, “Come on, we’re here.”

Bucky jogged over to her, he frowned as he read the sign on the wall, “Right, we are going to a bar called Hell House that used to be a Catholic boarding school for a wedding?”

“Yes, I told you, it’s for some dear friends from when I lived here.” She ushered him inside with a giggle. “I know my way around, just follow me.”

“You said you lived in a suburb,” Bucky muttered as he walked into the dimly lit bar.

The number of people dressed similarly to the men outside was growing tenfold and Y/N could feel the tension reeling off him. She knew he wouldn’t be scared, but probably surprised by the company she kept in her hometown. They were a different, very different group of friends to those she met at college.

“Hey Chocolate Puddin’!” Y/N screamed and threw her arms around the man wiping down a table.  The man reciprocated with the usual awkward hug; not holding her too tightly in case Y/N clocked him one for feeling her up on accident again. She pulled away and gestured to her date. “And this is Bucky.”

He shook Bucky’s hand and introduced himself, “Weasel. This one just mocks me for not knowing what emojis mean.”

Y/N tugged on Bucky’s jacket to bring his ear closer and whispered, “He thought the poop emoji was chocolate ice cream or somethin’.”

“What can I get you to drink?” Weasel asked as he wiped the glasses and placed them on the bar.

“Blowjob!!” Another man shouted and spun Y/N around, pulling her away from the bar and out of Bucky’s hearing range. “Well, look at you Care Bear. Looking like a fuckable plushie.”

Weasel muttered under his breath and fixed the bailey and whipped cream shot while jealousy brewed in Bucky’s chest as he watched Y/N being picked up by the handsome man. He couldn’t react, how could he in a room full of giants and he’d hardly admitted his feelings to himself yet. 

Instead, he clutched the bottle of beer that Weasel handed him. Y/N knew these people, if she didn’t want to be manhandled then she would have done something about it. And Bucky wasn’t sure why that annoyed him more; that she was more casual with affections or that she didn’t do this with him.

Bucky turned away for a second only to turn around to see a woman grabbing Y/N’s face and pushing their faces together in a smacking kiss. His mouth dropped agape, as the women giggled and hugged one another. He needed to talk to you about what kind of place you grew up in because this was not what he pictured.

“You get used to it.” Weasel commented and held up two crossed fingers, “those three are like that. Never known a throuple like it.”

Bucky frowned, “a what?”

“He’s messing with you Buck, he’s just jealous that he never got to tap any of us. Bucky, this is Wade and Vanessa.”

It then dawned on him that the man that ordered a blow job and the woman that snogged his fake date were the newlyweds. Vanessa was one of Y/N’s oldest friends from high school and had introduced her to Wade, but never explained how. Maybe the venue had something to do with it but now he was even more curious and a little less jealous.

The four of them drank round after round at a table that had been set aside for the special couple. The table didn’t look any different to the others apart from the fact that it was probably the cleanest and the only distinguishable feature was the folded piece of paper with the words ‘reservation for wade & ness’ scrawled on it.

“So how did you two meet?” Bucky asked the couple.

“Y/N and I went our separate ways after school.” Vanessa held out her hand on the table, Y/N immediately grabbing it. “One of us sold themselves to the world of men and the other became a stripper.”

Y/N cackled, and Bucky enjoyed the carefree nature that Y/N had around this pair. She was uninhibited and more herself than he’d seen in a long time. Growing up with someone is a different type of friendship with the ones you meet at college. Bucky’s mind drifted to Steve Rogers, his childhood friend and how they were practically brothers, always getting into trouble. 

“Wade came in after finishing a job, courtesy of me.” Y/N dramatically placed her hand on her chest then looked at Bucky, “Oh right, you don’t know what Wade does for a living. So erm, basically he can be hired to help people with difficult situations rather than calling the police.”

Bucky paused and dropped the bottle onto the table with a thunk and immediately found Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where this story was going but he didn’t like the sound of it at all. Not one little bit.

“My ex was causing me some hassle and Wade gave him a little scare.” Y/N beamed through her drunkenness and turned back to the couple, “and because Wade came the next night to pay his merc fees, he met Ness.”

“Oh yeah, it was that douche, Francis. Francis. Stalker shit his pants when he saw me.” Wade barked out a laugh and turned to Vanessa, muttering words into her ear. The couple becoming completely lost in one another.

Bucky turned to Y/N, “Didn’t you date Francis in college?”

Y/N hiccupped and nodded, then vacated her seat before Bucky could respond. He watched her fiddle with the dials on the jukebox while he mulled over his thoughts; why hadn’t Y/N come to him or Sam about Francis? 

He’d have to ask her when she was sober because there was no way he was going to get the information from her now or the newlyweds. They were almost tearing each other’s clothes off as they made out. 

Y/N had finally picked a track and it boomed through the speakers. Her and a group of others dancing along to the beat. Bucky left the passionate display of intimacy and joined Y/N on the makeshift dance floor which was just some tables pushed to the side.

“Buckaroo!” She crooned and pulled him into a formal hold for such an upbeat song, “So who are we hooking you up with tonight?”

Bucky was completely surprised at her comment, he had hoped that she didn’t like what had happened on their last date and how it turned out with Jackie. Then again, Dean had text her earlier. He must have read this situation completely wrong, and he didn’t want her to know that. She couldn’t know how he felt, he wasn’t sure about it either. That’s what he kept telling himself.

He decided to play along and nod towards a young woman, “what about her?”

Y/N checked over his shoulder as they spun around the small space, she rolled her eyes at the sight of Hope Summers, “I don’t think that’s a good idea unless you want to get beaten up by her dad.”

He followed Y/N’s line of sight and spotted the man glaring at him as if he knew exactly what Bucky had thought or said about his daughter. He immediately shifted Y/N around, spinning her out and back in to avoid looking into the creepy old man’s death stare.

“I need a drink,” Y/N stopped dancing, gathering her breath.

Bucky led the way to the bar and Y/N happily held onto his hand until they were met with Weasel’s agitated face as he held the corded phone to his ear before placing the receiver to his chest.

“It’s for you.” He gestured to Y/N who rounded the bar with confusion etched across her face. Nobody who knew Hellhouse's number knew she was here or would be calling because they’re all here as far as she could tell. 

Weasel kept his hand over the mouthpiece as she approached, “It’s Tyler.”

Y/N glanced to Bucky who sipped on his beer and talked to Neena, another of her high school friends that had ended up in similar work as Wade, she was nicknamed Lucky for all the ways she miraculously got out of tricky situations.

Bucky ducked closer to Neena’s, whispering into her ear and a wave of anger erupted in Y/N. She was done with being second best, Bucky was only doing this to meet other women. She wasn’t what he wanted.

Finally, she put the phone to her ear and prepared herself to listen to whatever her ex-boyfriend wanted to say. With a deep breath, she answered the call as coolly as she could.

Bucky turned back to the bar and saw the frustration on Y/N’s face growing, it wasn’t a pleasant phone call. Plus, surely, they would have rung her mobile. He scooted around the bar and approached Y/N, her back now turned from him and her fingers wrapped and unwrapped from the coil of the phone’s cord.

“Tyler, please just listen to me.” She hissed. “I am not interested. I’ve moved on.”

Bucky froze at Y/N’s words, when did she move on? And who had she moved onto? Was it that guy that she met at Darcy's wedding? Dean. The name grated his nerves. He couldn’t blame her; she was allowed to move on. Worry filled his thoughts, could he have caused Y/N to run into the arms of someone else because he hooked up with Jackie.

Y/N slammed the handset into its holder on the wall, spinning to Bucky and the moment he saw her unshed tears, he pulled her into his arms. Pushing his feelings aside, he knew that he needed to be there for her regardless of if she had moved on to someone new.

Continue Here...

Worst Idea Ever Tag List: @daydream3r-xo​ / @justanotherblonde23​ / @whitestarbucky-main​ / @bonkywobble​ / @writingsoftheloser​ / @galaxy-barnes​ / @weird-mumbling​ / @m-blasterrr​ / @wayward-gypsy​ / @heartsaved​ / @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ / @void-imaginations​ / @im-squished​ / @kalesrebellion​ / @lady-pswrld​ / @midnightfire​ / @quinjetboi​ / @wiccanmetallicrose​ / @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ / @tellthemall-i-saidhi​ / @superquirkygrlofvirgodom-blog​ / @wonder-cole​ / @superappyjuice​ / @justreadingfics​ / @irishflutiegirl​ / @callmeluna​ / @charmedbysarge​ / @obsessivereaderchick​ / @mcolbz14​ / @calwitch​ / @gooddaykate​ / @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ / @redbarn1995​ / @pterodactylterrace​ / @vicmc624​ / @guera31​ / @bwbatta​ / @aeo10fan​ / @the-lake-is-calling​ / @addikted-2-dopamine​  / @redbarn1995​ / @drabblewithfrannybarnes​

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7​ / @fandomfic-galore​ / @writerwrites​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @wedonttalkaboutitenough​ / @courtneychicken​

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers​ / @little-baby-vixen​ / @stuckonjbbarnes​ / @starlightcrystalline​ / @nekoannie-chan​ / @hailhydra920​ / @vollzeitliebe​ / @fitzsimmons-is-forever​ / @ladyacrasia​

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes Series #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Bucky Barnes AU #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction

[nctsjiho]

Sleeping Beauty

warnings: none

era: fall of 2020

❀ Shotaro gets tasked with carrying a sleepy JiHo back to her dorm

It’s interesting how people can grow so comfortable with each other so quickly. Maybe it’s the environment that comes along with being a K-pop idol; Being in a practise room for hours together, helping each other with lyrics and difficult choreography during afterhours. Needless to say, idols spend a lot of time with their members – whether they like it or not.

JiHo had met Shotaro less than a year ago, yet somehow they just clicked. Of course being half Japanese and speaking the language fluently made it so Shotaro naturally gravitated towards the female member, but even besides that, he genuinely felt comfortable around JiHo. Although she gave the impression that she’s older than him, because she had been taking care of him ever since they met, Shotaro would always see the sweet, cute side of JiHo. The same side that made him feel protective over her.

It was late when the group had finished day one of their NCT World shoots. With all the energy they had left, the group climbed in their respective cars and made their way back to the dorms.

Caught up in a calm conversation with his manager, Doyoung started to notice how the older man kept stealing glances at the rear view mirror. His curiosity spiked once he noticed the soft smile on his manager’s face, prompting him to look back towards the people in the back seats.

Looking past a sleeping Johnny and Haechan, he noticed the two youngest members – currently in the car – snuggled up into each other. JiHo’s head rested on Shotaro’s shoulder, while his head rested on hers. Doyoung also noticed how Shotaro wasn’t wearing a jacket, instead the piece of clothing was placed on both of their laps. Well, more so on JiHo’s than his, but it didn’t seem to bother him as the two continued to sleep peacefully.

“They’ve gotten really close.” The manager said in a hushed tone, causing Doyoung’s head to snap back to the front. “Hmm.” He hummed in agreement. “I’ve never seen JiHo like this though. At least not so quickly.” “What do you mean?” The manager asked. “She’s close with the other members as well, but seeing her literally cuddled up with someone. I’ve never seen that. I guess she only does it with Yuta hyung and Jungwoo sometimes, but Jungwoo is usually forcing it on her.” He chuckled remembering the times JiHo protested while Jungwoo pulled her into hugs for movie nights. She’d eventually give in, but being asleep cuddled up was usually territory the members didn’t visit when it came to JiHo.

Now the manager hummed, but a sudden thought interrupted him. “Doesn’t she hug the members more now? Like, every time I see Lucas and JiHo he has her in his arms.” This time it’s the manager’s time to laugh. “Well yes, she’s gotten used to skinship a lot with the group. But sleeping? She usually doesn’t like being hugged or touched in her sleep.” Doyoung’s eyes fall back on the sleeping duo. “It’s only been a few months since JiHo and Taro met too, I’m surprised they are this close.” “Don’t you think it’s nice though? He’s new, but JiHo’s been his support system.” Doyoung just nodded, the cute visual in front of him was hard to look away from.

“Want to know something funny?” Doyoung’s ears and eyes perked up and he nodded. “The staff call JiHo the boys’ little mascot. She’s always cheering everyone on and making sure everyone is feeling alright. Definitely Shotaro and Sungchan these days.” A big smile washed over Doyoung’s face. “She really is.”

A sudden shake of Jiho’s arm woke her up. As soon as she opened her eyes she noticed the car had stopped moving and she heard the two figures next and in front of her talk, but she was to disorientated to make actual sense out of anything. “W-What’s…“ She mumbled and she heard the two people chuckle. “JiHo we’re at home, let’s go inside.” Doyoung explained.

The three members had made it out of the car – rather slowly one would say – when Doyoung noticed the current state JiHo was in. She could barely stand on her own two feet yearning for support, which she received in the form of Shotaro’s stretched out arm. The girl could also hardly keep her eyes open. Realising JiHo would be having a hard time getting up to the dorm without help, Doyoung looked at Johnny in the hopes he could carry her up, but the tall guy was busy supporting an equally as sleepy Haechan inside the building.

This time Doyoung’s eyes fell onto Shotaro. The Japanese boy was sporting an amused smile as well as a loving glint in his eyes as he watched JiHo try her hardest to keep herself up straight. “Taro?” Doyoung said in a hushed tone. “Yes, hyung.” He quickly answered, his eyes wide looking like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie out of the cookie jar – a sight so endearing and maybe too common but the members, and fans, wouldn’t have it any other way. “Could you help JiHo up?” Shotaro quickly nodded and turned to the sleepy girl.

“JiHo, let’s go up hmm?” He said in Japanese and JiHo nodded. They only took one step before JiHo stopped. “What’s wrong?” Shotaro asked noticing that JiHo wasn’t budging even if he slightly pulled her forward. “Too tired.” Her answer was in Korean. “I know that’s why we should go upstairs.” It took every ounce of willpower not to tease JiHo in her current drowsiness. Shotaro always thought of JiHo as cute, but right now she was just adorable. “I can’t.” “What do you want me to do then?”

Helplessness started to settle in as he saw Doyoung had already left the parking garage to get to his dorm as quickly as possible. JiHo had invited Shotaro to stay over since they had a schedule together the next day anyway, so Doyoung had no problem leaving JiHo with the boy. They’d find their way to the dorm, he was sure of it. It might just take a little longer, but the moment Doyoung left the parking lot, that wasn’t his problem anymore.

Once Shotaro looked back at JiHo he saw her hands reaching up. “Carry me.” The comment was Shotaro’s prove that JiHo was sleep drunk. No, not drunk, absolutely wasted. Never in her right mind would she ask Shotaro to carry her, and definitely not with, what some would call ‘aegyo’ but knowing JiHo would refuse to admit it, a better way to refer to it was, a hint of cuteness.

Shotaro didn’t know if he was supposed to be shocked or embarrassed. And even tough he felt a slight blush creep up on his cheeks, he just found it endearing yet amusing.

He turned his back towards the girl and squatted down, his arms reaching back to support the girl. “Get on my back, I’ll give you a piggy back ride.” With his back facing JiHo he sadly had to miss the loopy smile on her face as she climbed onto his back.

“Where’s JiHo and Taro?” Taeyong asked. He had reached the dorm earlier, having taken another car to the dorm. His transport arrived about 10 minutes earlier, sparing him enough time to take a shower before his other roommates arrived.  “I left him to help JiHo up. She could barely walk.” Doyoung said in an exhausted tone. He had plopped himself down on the couch as soon as he entered the living room. “Shouldn’t you have helped her?” The leader chuckled sitting down next to Doyoung. “Couldn’t be bothered.”

Just then Taeyong watched the door open and there emerged a Shotaro with a sleeping (?) JiHo on his back. “Need some help?” Taeyong laughed seeing the young boy struggle to take his shoes off. “I got it, don’t worry, but thanks.” He didn’t fail to send Taeyong one of his cute smiles – eye smile included – and then disappeared into JiHo’s bedroom. “They’ve gotten close.” Taeyong turned to Doyoung who seemed to be loosing his battle with sleep. “Yeah…” The tired boy mumbled. Taeyong then got up, slapping Doyoung’s butt in passing while walking to his bedroom. “Get up and head to bed before I have to carry you like Johnny did Haechan and Taro did JiHo.” An amused smile played on his lips as Doyoung slowly got up and dragged his feet to bed.

---

Side note: Hello Future is so good 🌈🌻

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct female member #nct imagines #nct extra member #nct additional member #nct female addition #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

[kyloswarstars]

ROOMMATES • Part 2

Divergent • College AU • Eric x Reader

ROOMMATES masterlist 💫 Divergent masterlist

You escaped your current living situation by moving in with your friend Christina – and five other college students. Little did you know that one of them was the guy who was your ultimate pain in the neck since your first semester. Now, you had to find a way to not strangle him in his sleep out of pure frustration. Also, you had to find a way to get rid of those weird butterfly feelings for him that slowly grew in your stomach.

Words • 2k

The enemies to lovers story no one needed.

/////

The donut shop had air conditioning. It was pure heaven. A donut shop was heaven to you 365 days a year anyways. The AC, though… yes.

Christina chewed on her third blue glazed donut and refused to answer your questions. First, she refused. Then, she tried to talk her way out of it. In the end, she mentioned the friendship code, which applied in this case to Eric, and therefore she couldn’t say anything.

The confusion was real. You didn’t understand anything when most of the time you always understood everything. Following things you knew:

A) Eric always entangled you in debates. Sometimes it was a civil exchange, most of the times he got your blood boiling until you were close to lose your temper. This happened in class and other college surroundings, where you talked about a study related topic.

B) Until last week you always thought it was because of his ego and pure strive to demonstrate his intellect why he went for, at some point, the silliest of statements you had ever heard.

C) You also thought he did it just to piss you off.

D) Then last week happened. Then this afternoon happened and left you entirely confused.

E) Christina must know another reason why Eric constantly sought for an academic dispute. His statement from a couple hours ago, that there was ‚no reason‘, was highly suspicious. But Chris also didn’t tell you the reason.

F) That only led you to one, logical guess on what that unsaid reason could be.

„Is this about him having a long planned strategy to become the number one student of our year?“ Him seeing you as a serious competition to that title was the only reason you could think of. It wasn’t too odd of an assumption since after all those debates, silly statements or not, he was one of the smartest guys you had met so far.

Chris swallowed a bit of her new donut. Donut number four. „He isn’t in our year.“

You had sipped on your milkshake and instantly looked up. „What do you mean?“ Having to ask that question again frustrated you.

„That he’s way past us. He just finished his third year of medical school.“

„Excuse me?“ You got up from your seat and started wandering around the empty donut shop. „I’m surprised my body hasn’t taken the form of a question mark yet,“ you slowly talked yourself into a frenzy. „Christina, you’re telling me that Eric, who keeps pissing me off in two of my classes, for the last two years, isn’t even in my year? That he’s studying to become a doctor?“ Please behold me from chopping off a finger or something and him helping me.

She looked a little guilty for not giving you more information. Also a little amused.

„I am studying to become a damn mathematician. Why on earth would a medical student attend those classes?“

Christina had the audacity to laugh out loud. „I’m sorry, Y/N.“ Karma came around instantly and made her choke on a piece of donut for a few seconds. You hurried over to harshly pat her back until she coughed it out. „All I know is,“ she was still gasping for air, „he sometimes takes random classes for fun. Or for one of his big assignments.“

That was all. You wouldn’t get any further information. She crossed her arms and ignored all of your remaining questions. At least she left the donut shop with a stomachache and you knowing that Eric wasn’t even a math student.

/////

Once a week all roommates had at least one dinner together. ‚To strengthen the community‘ Uriah mumbled to you while you helped him turn the groceries, he and Chris had bought today, into a prober dish. Rice with a lot of veggies was the meal for tonight.

You were the last one to sit down and were surprised, and a little nervous, to find Eric sitting in the spot across from yours. He must’ve come home while you were still concentrating on not letting the veggies burn to death.

Christina hardly ate anything after her five donuts. Being a reasonable adult, you only had one donut at the shop.

„Who chose to put mushrooms in there?“ Eric didn’t look too glad when his fork discovered a tiny mushroom.

„Me,“ you stated, not afraid to have another silly debate. This time probably about how mushrooms shouldn’t be harvested because it takes away a food supply for deers.

„Next time just roast it short. Don’t turn it into these rubber–“

„Shut up, Eric.“ Four intervened. „Be glad someone made dinner.“

Exactly. You smiled at Four for his backup and continued eating. Even though you highly concentrated on the bowl in front of you, your eyes occasionally moved to Eric, to see if he had found another thing he disliked about the meal. And every single time his eyes met with yours.

This dinner wasn’t like all the previous ones you had here since moving in. It was unusually quiet. Everyone headed pretty fast into their rooms after finishing up and collectively cleaning the dishes.

Eric lingered around and was actually the last one to help you with putting back the plates and cutlery to where they belonged. You leaned to the countertop and tried not to stare too obviously when he stretched to place some glasses on the top shelf. He wore a t-shirt where he must’ve cut off the sleeves and the way his arm muscles moved, with every glass he put on that shelf, should be forbidden.

What? Oh man. That you caught yourself thinking that way, even though Eric didn’t notice it because he was still occupied with the dishes, made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. You hid your hands in your pockets to act casual. That’s when you noticed one of the many papers that were spread in nearly every clothing pocket and backpack of yours.

One of the many habits – coping mechanisms, actually – you had, was to write down unsolved problems in mathematics and brood over them whenever your brain was close to panic itself into a breakdown. To sit down and concentrate on a problem and search for a possibility to solve it, was what got you to study the most hated subject in the first place.

You pulled the paper out and checked what it referred to. The Riemann zeta function.

You tried to recall if any of the many debates with Eric ever had been about mathematics. They had never been about math at all you realised. The classes he had gone to were the social orientated ones. Those, where you discussed scenarios and ways on how to solve problems with a mathematical solution. Or at least help out along the way. And the debates were mostly about the logical or philosophic aspects. The reason why it had always been so easy for Eric to pull you into those discussions was because you didn’t study mathematics just for the sake of it. You didn’t want to become only a professor to teach others about it. You wanted to help people with all the abilities math provided. For example the study you worked on right now: a mathematical model to predict the success of immunotherapy for patients with cancer.

This is perfect.

There was no way Eric could enter a serious debate about the zeta function and not show that he studied something completely different. With a grin on your lips you cleared your throat to get his attention. Eric crossed his arms as he turned to you.

The game is on.

„Since you know everything better than me, and us living under the same roof now, I was wondering if you would take a look at some equations. I’m kinda stuck.“

Something in his face changed but he still said: „Sure.“

That’s a mistake, my friend. You handed him the paper, which he had to unfold his arms for again to take it. Those arms were bigger than the pile of books next to your mattress. Why did you never notice his muscles before? And why did you never notice that sharp jawline?

The concentration on his face didn’t give away that he had absolutely no clue what was on that paper. Time did. A minute or two went by without him looking up or saying a word. „That seems like a serious problem. I’m passing.“

„What are you studying again?“ Your voice as innocent as you could manage it to be.

„Why would you ask?“ He played it off. The crooked smile on his lips let you know he had a feeling for where this conversation would go, though.

„Because someone studying mathematics, like I do, would recognise the famous zeta function whose solution would earn you a reward of one million dollars.“

„I never said I study mathematics, Y/N.“ Eric grinned like you were the fool here. Like you had overseen something big. Like your little trap hadn’t worked.

„But you attend four full semesters of classes that aren’t necessary? Are you having such a big problem with me that you just can’t stay away?“ His stupid grin made it worse. That rage came rushing in because those ludicrous disputes sometimes had you thinking you were a complete idiot. „I mean no normal person would take those two extra classes for four solid semesters on top of damn medical classes. What’s wrong with you?“

„I like the extra knowledge.“ He simply stated, snapped a bottle of water from the countertop and slowly made his way down the hallway to his room. „And debating with you.“

/////

For your own wellbeing, and not to flip every time you thought about Eric being the biggest prick on this earth, you decided he was just a little sadist. Who had probably his only fun by infuriating you. You were glad to know about that hobby of his now and could focus on the more important things in life until next semester.

He just didn’t make it easy at all. Living under the same roof had diverted the debates from class to the dining table. Plus it had added a lot of other intentional disturbance on his part.

For a while you tried to just ignore it because he was a sadist, as you declared. On the other hand he exactly got what he had aimed at. Your anger.

„Eric,“ you shouted at the wall, knowing very well that he could hear you because you heard perfectly fine what kind of little movie he was watching. It paused for a few seconds and you breathed out in relief. Then it started again. So you raised your voice another time. „Use damn headphones!“

The only thing that happened was Uriah peeking his head in your room, with some incredibly high raised eyebrows. „Are you okay?“

„I am not.“ You buried your face in your hands. „Eric is watching porn and I can’t concentrate,“ you stated in despair.

„I’ll handle it,“ he smiled and was fast to knock at Eric’s door and enter his room after a ‚come in‘. They discussed for a while and Uriah gave you a thumbs up as he passed your room on his way back to the kitchen. Problem solved? Sounded like it. No noise from the other side of the room anymore.

The newest data had come in for the study this morning and you didn’t get anywhere yet. You just hadn’t been able to because of… picturing Eric watching porn. Ban it from your consciousness. With another deep breath, you started working in the newest data and focus only on your task. And it worked for a couple of minutes. Until Eric decided not to use headphones anymore and his porn noises echoed through the wall again.

I will strangle him in his sleep one night.

/////

A/N • I'm enjoying this way too much so there will soon be another update. probably next weekend. ok bye

Taglist • @longlostinanotherworld

Wanna get tagged too for future updates? Lemme know 🖤

#divergent #insurgent #eric #eric coulter #divergent eric #divergent eric coulter #divergent eric fanfiction #divergent eric imagine #eric x reader #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter fanfiction #eric coulter imagine #divergent eric x reader #divergent fanfiction #divergent imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #college au #kyloswarstars

[peach-pops]

Hello! I just saw your blog! Can i request a hc, Akaashi first time meeting Karasuno's manager(reader) and keeps hanging out when their in summer camp. And akaashi realised he liked the reader? 👉👈

This was so cute to write I frickin love Akaashi he’s so pretty??? Like why??

Akaashi’s Crush on the Karasuno Manager 

While Akaashi doesn’t jump off the walls when they hear that Karasuno will be joining in on their training camp, it does make him even more excited to go 

he overheard from some of the players on Nekoma that Karasuno was a team to keep an eye on and He even hears from Kuroo that Karasuno has yet another hot manager but Akaashi just wants to stay focused on trying to get better

He will keep an eye out for you though cause Kuroo hardly ever talks about girls since he’s a big nerd

Before the other teams get there, Fukurodani & Nekoma start playing a practice game for fun just to get warmed up

in the middle of their set, Karasuno shows up and walks over to the side of the gym to start stretching so the practice set pauses so Fukurodani can get a look at the new team

He’s looking at all the players and I’m not saying he’s judging them buttttt he’s judging a tiny bit

“okay there’s a super short dude- oh wait there’s two short guys- oh my god why does that one guy look like a whole ass adult- wow is that her?”

Akaashi has never been known to be as girl crazy as his other teammates but when he spots you across the gym talking to the other players, Akaashi feels his heart skip a beat because holy shit Kuroo was right she’s reallyyyy attractive 

He’s a certified Pretty Boy™ so he can definitely acknowledge when others are pretty too

He’s not the only one though because some of his own teammates are oogly at the girl and it makes Akaashi feel off

“ Oya, see! I told you Karasuno’s manager-”

“ Lets keep playing,” Akaashi insists loudly as he tears his eyes away from your direction

The idea of staring at you from afar because of how pretty you look doesn’t sit well with Akaashi but that doesn’t stop him from making quick glances at you throughout the day

he figures you get hit on a lot and he doesn’t want to seem like a creep but Bokuto convinces him that he should just go over and talk to you because it was creepier if he didn’t say anything at all

Akaashi never takes any advice from Bokuto because duh, it’s always the other way around PLUS Bokuto just figured out that girls had three holes so Akaashi didn’t need his judgement 

the day goes on and Akaashi kinda just uwu’s from afar UNTIL you dropped some of the empty waterbottles along the hallway and he basically sprints over to help you

and when he kneels down beside you, he has to literally stop his jaw from hitting the floor because you’re even prettier in person 

after he helps you, your quick thank you is pretty shortlived since his team needs to play another match but now you’re short circuiting cause bruh this dude is hella attractive 

You guys don’t even see each other until hours later when everyone is eating dinner and all Akaashi wants to do is talk to you again 

So he finally goes up to you after dinner to introduce himself but gets interrupted by some of the Karasuno members

“ I HOPE you’re not trying to make a move on our beloved manager!”

“ If you even LOOK at her I will happily rip your head-”

“ Oh my god would you two stop!” You grab the back of Tanaka and Noya’s shirts and push them aside because while the boys were pretty protective, you weren’t going to let them cockblock you from a handsome prospect 

You happily introduced yourself to Akaashi as if the last fifteen seconds didn’t happen and right away, you compliment how well Akaashi plays cause maybe you had been secretly watching him from afar as well

Akaashi couldn’t even blame you, he had been purposefully playing extra hard, hoping that you would catch at least one good point

Akaashi is a humble man so of course he simply thanks you and he makes the first move by asking if you wanted to find a quiet place to talk for a bit

And your heart kinda drops like cue that tiktok sound ‘are we about to kiss right now’???

So the two of you walk to the outside of the gym and you two find a bench to sit on and in your head, you’re pretty nervous because you had just met him but the conversation flows super well

Akaashi might seem dry but when it comes to holding a conversation with people other than Bokuto, he’s never the type to let it get awkward or silent

You know how he said yall were gonna talk for a bit? Yeahhhh that turned into THREE HOURS

YOU HAD A THREE HOUR CONVERSATION WITH THIS PRETTY BOY™ FROM FUKURODANI AS IF HE WAS A CHILDHOOD FRIEND

Even Akaashi is kinda shocked that you would be willing to talk to him for this long but he didn’t mind because you were super engaged in the conversation which was a response he never usually got with his other teammates

It’s not too hard for Akaashi to open up to people but there’s something about you that makes it so much easier for him to open up and you know some things that he hadn’t even told his close friends

“ So what, are we friends now?”

“ I don’t know, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for fraternizing with the enemy,” You tease as you nudge him with your shoulder,” How will your teammates react when they find out that you’re staying up late with the opposing teams manager?”

“ They’d be more jealous than mad, that’s for sure.”

Akaashi didn’t even mean to say it outloud but it slipped through his lips so easily and to be frank, it was the truth

He could only imagine everyone else’s reaction when they find out that he had alone time with the manager everyone was practically drooling over

Akaashi doesn’t even get a chance to analyze your reaction because not even a second later, Bokuto opens the gym doors and his eyes widen when he sees him

“ Akaashi! We’ve been looking for you- hey, you’re that manager from Karasuno! Y/N right?”

“ Yeah, that’s me, you must be Bokuto-san, it’s nice to meet you. Akaashi has told me so much about you!”

Bokuto hums as he looks over to Akaashi and sends him a quick wink before turning back to you

“ Really? Because all day all Akaashi could ever talk about was you-”

“ You know what, it’s kinda late, maybe we can continue this conversation tomorrow?” Akaashi suggests as he quickly gets up from his seat and grabs the back of Bokuto’s arm

He’s so embarrassed, he forgets to say goodbye to you and he doesn’t even realize it until he drags Bokuto back to the rooms

“ Why would you do that? Now she thinks I’m obsessed with her!”

“ Wait, so you’re not obsessed with her? But you’ve been talking about her all day?”

“ Well yes, b-but I just met her, are you insane?”

Akaashi shakes of Bokuto and goes straight to bed as he collapses on his pillow face first

Things couldn’t get worse, could they?

OHHHH they got a lot worse

The next day was when the boys were all treated to barbeque 

meat meat meat

Akaashi was sitting down at the steps with Bokuto and some of the players from Nekoma and he was able to hear your name in a few conversations

He didn’t have enough energy to be jealous, especially since the two of you weren’t even dating but when Kuroo started to talk about you, he could feel himself get more annoyed

“ Y/N-chan sure is cute, wouldn’t you say so Akaashi?” Kuroo teased as Akaashi turned to glare at Bokuto as if he was saying “ you rat, why didn’t you keep your mouth shut?”

Bokuto acts innocent but he could slowly see the wheels turning in Akaashi’s mind

Truth be told, Bokuto did tell Kuroo about Akaashi’s crush on you and when Bokuto complained that Akaashi would never make a move, Kuroo was ready to kick things off

Kuroo loves setting people up that’s like his talent ANYWAYS

“ Yeah, she’s cute” is all Akaashi could say as he looked over and saw you laughing with the other managers

Kuroo leaned back and rested his hands against the back of his head,” But wouldn’t you say she’s realllllyy cute? Cause I think she’s reallllyy cute.”

Kenma looked up from his video game console to look at Kuroo before turning his attention back to his game,” Kuroo-”

“ What’s your point? Do you like her or something? Cause I don’t care if you do, go ahead,” Akaashi huffed as he turned his attention back to his plate that he hadn’t even touched yet

Kuroo and Bokuto shared a look like “ ooo he’s getting mad”

Kuroo shrugged and cracked his fingers before getting out of his seat “ alright, only because you’re giving me permission-”

As Kuroo was getting up, Akaashi could feel his chest tighten and he reached out to grab Kuroo’s wrist, stopping him from moving closer

“ Wait- don’t,” Akaashi sighed as he shook his head,” I know what you’re doing. I’ll go up to her just stay here and shut up.”

Kuroo smirked happily as Akaashi put down his plate and made his way over to where you were

You stood over a grill as you helped put some more meat on a first years plate but when you looked up to see Akaashi standing by you, you smiled back at him

“ Oh hey, I was hoping I would see you! I’m sure you’re pretty hungry after kicking our butts in that last match, huh?” You tease and now that he’s actually in front of you, he’s nervous as hell

“ It was a close game but I actually wanted to talk to you about something if it’s okay with you?”

Your heart sank as you were already mentally preparing yourself for him to tell you he had a girlfriend or that he wasn’t looking to be in anything serious

You didn’t want to marry the dude but you really liked being around him and it helped that he was the most gorgeous man to ever walk the planet

“ Well, I was wondering... if you weren’t busy-”

“ ARE YOU ASKING HER AKAASHI!” You both turned your heads towards Bokuto who was now getting a hard slap on the back of his head by Kuroo

Akaashi was going to commit first-degree murder the first chance he got 

You couldn’t help but laugh yet once you saw Akaashi’s flustered expression, you pulled yourself together and let him continue

“ I know we just met but do you think it would be okay if we got to know each other more? I know it’s bad timing with this season but if you’re ever free, I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

Akaashi didn’t even get a response from you just yet but he was already so proud of himself with even asking you without stuttering

Your first reaction was to shut down because you were NOT expecting to already be going on a date with him BUT you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him

“ I would love that. Let me give you my number so we can plan something soon,” You said sweetly even though on the inside, you were screeching and doing backflips

Akaashi fumbled with pulling out his phone and once he handed it to you, you both could her some of his teammates whooping with cheers and ‘ooooo’s’

IDK how to end this but I can definitely see Kuroo and Bokuto slapping Akaashi’s back like proud parents while Daichi is definitely praying that Akaashi is a good guy so he doesn’t have to beat up yet another douchebag in your life

And yes, Tanaka and Noya are absolutely crushed - heart been broke so many times

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu!! headcanon #haikyuu hc #haikyuu!! hc #akaashi #akaashi x reader #keiji #keiji akaashi #keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi hc #akaashi headcanon #keiji akaashi headcanon #keiji akaashi hc #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #akaashi x you #keiji akaashi x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo #tetsuro kuroo x reader

[omgrachwrites]

Our Souls Crave This Magic- Chapter Three

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Reader

Summary: All you want is a quiet year of university as you and your best friend, Edmund move to New York City. Though, that all changes when you meet the spoiled trust fund brat, Caspian. College au.

Warnings: fluff, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers

Words: 2463

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me,all characters are 18+

A/N: Literally just realised how many side characters I’ll have to put in this bc Narnia characters don’t work hahaha! Also, I know that Caspian’s parents are dead, omg Nathaniel Parker is his dad but in this they’re alive and well! Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think, please let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

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Chapter Three - An Odd Companionship 

You were in heaven, or at least you were as close to heaven as you were ever likely to get as your eyes roamed over all the Halloween themed snacks. There were things that you’d hardly even heard of such as, pumpkin spiced m&ms and chocolate with candy corn in the middle. You loved Halloween, when you were in university in London; you loved to decorate your dorm room, even though 9 times out of 10 you’d be going out to a party. It seemed that Halloween was an even bigger thing over here in America so you knew that you had to decorate your loft apartment.

Glancing behind you, you laughed at the bored look on Edmund’s face; he looked over at you and scowled as he pulled a tongue at you. Lucy, on the other hand looked as excited as you felt, “ooh, marshmallow Oreos,” she grinned and her face lit up, “I should send some over to Susan,” she took a packet off the shelf and threw it into the cart.

Edmund groaned in frustration as he covered his eyes as he trailed behind, “I get why we’re decorating the loft, it’s a tradition and the both of you are obsessed. But, do we really need to buy all of the snacks?”

Ed wasn’t a fan of Halloween. Lucy gasped in horror as she placed her hand over her heart, she was so dramatic, “how can you even say that? These snacks trump the ones in England!” she scoffed at him before wandering down the aisle, intent on grabbing more snacks.

Ed carelessly flung an arm around your shoulders and you smiled up at him, resting your head on his shoulder. Then, your best friend dropped a major bombshell, “Caspian is coming over to help us decorate,” you groaned in frustration, receiving stares from strangers but you didn’t care.

You pinched your temples as annoyance shot through every inch of your body. It was the worst news that you’d heard all day, “jesus, Ed! Why does he have to come over?”

Ed smirked as he looked at you without sympathy, “I think that you’re forgetting, Y/N, just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean I can’t be his friend.”

“He called me a slut,” you pouted as you both caught up with Lucy, you were still sore about that fact.

Ed huffed out a deep laugh, “actually, he didn’t.”

“He didn’t have to, Ed! It was implied.”

Edmund rolled his eyes and lowered his voice so Lucy wouldn’t hear the conversation you were both having, “okay, maybe it was implied but trust me, he didn’t mean it. I think he feels awful about it actually.”

You scoffed as you looked away, wrapping your arms around yourself, he should feel bad, Ed stopped you by placing his hands on your shoulders, worry etched into every corner of his freckled face, “Y/N,” he sighed, biting his lip and you knew that he was trying to find the right words, “please don’t lie to yourself and don’t pretend that you liked Caspian before all that happened. Don’t bring what your dad did into this, Caspian is not the same.”

Edmund’s eyes were so intense and worried that you had to look away, all of the Pevensie siblings were there for you when your dad betrayed your family. And for that, you felt eternally grateful. But, you didn’t want to talk about your dad.

“I can see that you really care about Caspian but I just don’t share your judgement but I suppose for you, I can tolerate him,” you smiled, “even though he is the most insufferable person that I’ve ever met, I hope you know that I would never ask you to choose between Caspian and I,” you would never make your best friend do that.

Edmund laughed as he cupped your cheek, “well that’s a good thing because I really like Caspian,” he smiled when you frowned at him and tilted your head, “you’re my best friend, Y/N, if I had to choose between you and Caspian, I would always choose you.”

You laughed bashfully as you rubbed the back of your neck; you weren’t used to people putting you first. Before you burst into tears like a total loser, you pulled Ed into a hug, inhaling the fresh scent of his aftershave.

Later on that day, you and Lucy entertained yourselves by working your way through some of the Halloween chocolate as you decorated the loft. It had been a long time coming but New York was finally beginning to feel like home. Presumably, Edmund was off somewhere sulking, he wasn’t getting involved with the whole decorating thing but you wanted to go all out. You knew that you’d probably be working on Halloween, but the beauty of college parties was the fact that they seemed to go on all night.

As you were adding fake cobwebs to the corners of the kitchen, there came a quiet knock on the door. Your blood ran cold and you scowled to yourself when Ed answered the door and you heard Caspian’s soft melodic voice. Despite yourself, you peered over your shoulder to look at the handsome man as he grinned at Ed and ran his hands through his thick hair. You were surprised when you noticed that he was wearing a simple white shirt and jeans. You were almost fooled into believing that he was just like everyone else, but you knew the truth.

“Hi, Caspian,” Lucy shouted joyfully and you narrowed your eyes at her as she pulled him into a hug. What a traitor.

“Hey, Lucy,” you could hear the smile in Caspian’s voice and you rolled your eyes, “how are you?”

“I’m good thank you, I’m going to go and decorate the bedrooms, are you alright, Y/N?” you glanced back at Lucy who shot you a meaningful glance as she walked away.

Caspian bit his lip and looked at you from beneath his thick eyelashes, and you noticed that he had the decency to look guilty, “want any help, Y/N?” he muttered and you sighed, remembering the promise that you’d made to Ed.

“Sure, Caspian. You’re on skeleton duty,” you gestured to the plastic bones by the door, “don’t mess it up,” you teased.

Caspian smirked and you had to look away, he was so blindingly handsome in that moment, not that you’d ever admit it, “I’ll try not to.”

The both of you somehow managed to work in harmony for a little while until Caspian halted his movements and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at you. You almost felt the burn of his eyes on your skin.

“Y/N,” he started and when you looked over at him you were surprised to see that his deep brown eyes were soft and a crease was forming in the middle of his forehead, “I owe you an apology; I didn’t mean what I implied the other week. I was in a bad mood, lack of sleep you know.”

You grimaced, it was your fault that he hadn’t got any sleep that night, “right,” you flushed as he walked behind you to grab some tape, the warm spicy scent of his aftershave washing over you, “I’m sorry about that.”

Caspian shrugged, “I think I was jealous too.”

His confession shocked you so much that you gasped and almost toppled off the chair that you were standing on. How was he jealous? “Jealous?” you squeaked.

Caspian’s eyes widened as he realised how it sounded and you  could tell that he was trying to backtrack, “I swear, not in the way you think, it’s just, it’s been a while,” he flushed and you found that it was pretty endearing.

A frown graced your features as surprise wracked through your body, you hated Caspian but you weren’t blind to his attractive looks and mild mannerisms. Most girls would fantasise about him, “seriously?” you raised an eyebrow, “no park avenue princesses’ have won you over?”

Caspian let out a deep laugh that would reduce most people to a puddle, “nope,” he smiled as he picked up a can of silly string, “although I’m flattered that you’re surprised, even if you don’t think much of me.”

Caspian’s voice was teasing but you still kind of felt guilty, if you were being truthful, it wasn’t all that personal because you hated everyone like him, it didn’t matter who they were. People who had too much money and not enough sense got on your nerves.

“Trust me, Caspian I have my reasons for not liking you.”

Caspian touched your elbow gently as he walked past you, “I wish you would tell me what they are, because I know that you’re hiding something, Y/N.”

You wouldn’t open yourself up to Caspian, no matter how many sweet smiles that he shot your way. There was no way that you were going to be allying with your enemy; Hell would have to freeze over first.

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

A couple of weeks later, Caspian was sitting in the living room of Edmund’s loft apartment with his text book open on the coffee table. The words in the text book in front of Caspian seemed to swim before his tired eyes, the young man groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face as his head began to throb. He glanced over at Edmund who was fast asleep with his cheek sticking to the paper of his essay with his mouth agape. Caspian chuckled and looked over at the clock; it was a little past 2 in the morning.

Caspian was glad that Ed had suggested that they studied at his apartment, Caspian had had a row with his housemates, they were some of his closest friends but lately, they were pissing him off. Caspian stretched his tired muscles, he needed to finish this essay but they had run out of coffee a little over an hour ago. He stood from the couch, fully intent on grabbing some more coffee when he saw that Y/N’s bedroom light was still on and the door was slightly ajar.

Biting his lip, Caspian decided to ask her if she wanted anything, he’d feel bad if he didn’t at least ask. He swallowed and peeked his head through her open door and he was awe struck with what he saw. Y/N had her back to him and she was painting a beautiful landscape of a castle in ruins, surrounded by mountains and an ocean. It was so hauntingly beautiful.

“Y/N?” he called out softly and she jumped as she was startled and she whipped around to look at him.

“Caspian?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I was going to go and grab some coffee, do you want anything?”

Her lips parted slightly, like she was surprised that he’d even ask, her eyes were downcast for a second as she fiddled with her fingers. Caspian had never seen such a look on her face before, it seemed that she was in fact, human, “would you mind it if I came with you?”

“Oh!” Caspian exclaimed, gobsmacked that she wanted to go with him but she looked a little upset, maybe she needed a break, “sure, Y/N. Of course.

Y/N smiled tightly at him as she grabbed her distressed leather jacket before following Caspian into the main part of the loft. As soon as she saw the state that Ed was in she giggled, shaking her head. Her laugh was a pretty sound when it wasn’t directed at Caspian’s expense, “someone couldn’t cut it, huh?”

Caspian laughed at the smirk on her pretty face as they walked out into the cold night together, it was an odd companionship, “did you need a break or something? That’s the only reason I can think of as to why you would actually spend time with me willingly,” he teased and Y/N laughed as she bumped her shoulder against his.

“I sure did need a break; my art assignment is really kicking my arse.”

Caspian bit his lip and decided to try his luck, “is that what you were painting. From where I was standing, it looked beautiful.”

Almost at once, Y/N tensed up and her face grew stoic which was a shame, “thank you but um, no that’s something else,” she ran a hand through her messy hair but she didn’t elaborate.

“What was it?” Caspian asked with interest, they were actually having an adult conversation and he didn’t want to stop now.

Y/N scoffed as she gave him the side eye, “nice try, keep dreaming, pretty boy.”

Caspian chuckled as he held up his hands in defence, “can’t blame a guy for trying.”

As they were walking down the dark high street, Caspian internally groaned they ran into a family friend who was leaving a bar, he was completely insufferable. Why the hell was he in a bar in Brooklyn? Michael smirked as he looked from Caspian to Y/N, if Y/N thought that Caspian was an arrogant trust fund baby then he was nothing compared to this guy.

“Hello, Caspian, you’re out late, it definitely looks like you’re slumming it but I never would have believed it,” his lip curled when he noticed Caspian’s NYU jumper and Caspian’s blood boiled in anger. Michael raised an eyebrow as he looked over at Y/N, “at least you’re slumming it with a pretty girl.”

Y/N let out an angry breath as she glared at Michael, “watch it, wanker.”

Michael grimaced, his blue eyes cold and lifeless, “interesting, a mouthy British girl,” he let out a nasty laugh as he patted Caspian’s shoulder. Caspian clenched his jaw, he so wanted to punch Michael in his smarmy face, “make sure you call your mom.”

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Caspian lowered his voice as Michael pushed past them.

She nodded but she looked angry, angrier than Caspian had ever seen here, “what an arsehole. How do you know him?” she gritted her teeth as she glared at Michael’s retreating back.

“Family friend unfortunately, I have to put up with him,” Caspian muttered, distracted when his phone vibrated in his pocket, he sighed in frustration when she saw it was a text from his mum. What the hell was she doing up at this time? Did she have eyes everywhere or something?

‘Just because you haven’t been in touch with me sweetie, doesn’t mean you can get out of the wedding at the end of November, I hope you haven’t forgotten. Evelyn says that she hasn’t heard from you in a while, sort it out, Caspian x’

Caspian scowled as he angrily shoved his phone back into his pocket, talking to Evelyn hadn’t been a part of the deal. Not yet anyway.

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

@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black​ @generalblizzarddreamer​ @blackbirddaredevil23​ @whiskeywinter89​ @graciehams​ 

#caspian #prince caspian #king caspian #prince caspian fanfiction #prince caspian imagine #prince caspian au #narnia au #college au #au #prince caspian x reader #prince caspian x reader insert #prince caspian x y/n #prince caspian x you #you x prince caspian #caspian x reader #caspian x reader insert #caspian x y/n #caspian x you #you x caspian #ben barnes #bin bons #edmund pevensie #edmund the just #lucy pevensie #lucy the valiant #pevensie siblings #fluff #prince caspian fluff #caspian fluff #the chronicles of narnia

[liron-ao3]

It's not that Dean doesn't like Castiel. It is more of an I-swear-on-my-mother's-grave-I'll-kill-him kinda relationship. Because the thing is, Castiel set up Dean's little brother Sam and his stepsister Rowena and it isn't that Dean could say it out loud, but he is worried. To say the least.

Rowena has a power over Sam that makes Dean's stomach flip. She conjures sappy smiles on Sam's face and makes him follow her like a love-drunk puppy. She's a witch, Dean is convinced, but he tries hard not to mention that in Sammy's orbit. He heard the whole that's-a-misogynistic-term speech when Sam was dating that Ruby chick and Dean knows that his brother would only cling closer to the Scot if he knew that Dean thinks that his fiancée is straight from hell.

So Dean grits his teeth, swallows his tongue, and plays nice around her, even going as far as agreeing to be his brother's best man. He will still be there when Sam comes running with his heart broken and with his tail between his legs.

Castiel, on the other hand? That man he can hate in abundance. Not that he has ever met him, but honestly, he has to be Lucifer himself if he thinks their siblings to be a good match.

Dean can picture him vividly—a leer on his face, sweet-talking people into feeling safe and then smiting them with the snap of his fingers. That man has to be evil incarnate and Dean won't pussyfoot around him. No way!

***

"Play nice," Bobby grumbles when they enter the venue for the rehearsal dinner.

"I am nice," Dean hisses back.

"Sure you are," his surrogate father says and makes a beeline for Ellen and Jo on the other side of the room.

Dean shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and scans the room for the man he is sure he will recognise immediately. But no one really sticks out from the crowd that is well-dressed and mostly speaking in different kinds of British accents. Family of the bride, obviously.

Dean feels a little underdressed until he spots a man in an ill-fitting suit, draped into a trenchcoat. He is standing next to a redheaded, slim woman, who Dean would probably try to get on the backseat of his Impala if he wasn't set on finding that Castiel guy, sweet talk him today and wreck him tomorrow. Unless Sam does the wise thing and cancels the wedding, which seems less and less likely by the minute. Rowena's spell seems to become stronger day by day. Dean hardly recognises his ever-worrying, self-loathing brother anymore, with all the grinning that goes on on his face.

Maybe Dean is an asshole, but he has pulled Sam from the edge too many times to count. This is too good to be true. Happiness doesn't find a Winchester. Not in his experience.

Dean walks to the other side from where the redhead smiled over to him. Maybe she can point him to the object of his hate. She tilts her head to the side when he comes closer.

"You must be Dean," she says, stretching out her hand. Dean is taken aback by her knowledge.

"How did you…?"

She shrugs. "I know nearly everyone in this room. And the only two men Sam ever mentioned were his brother and Bobby who I assume is the fella over there."

Dean looks in the direction she is nodding to. "Yeah. Sam always had more female friends."

"I think that's what Rowena likes about him. He's sensible."

Dean huffs. "Yeah, I bet she likes that he's soft for her."

"He makes her very happy," the man says and his voice does things to Dean's insides he doesn't want to nurse right now. He needs to focus on his anger. Arousal isn't helpful.

"If you say so," Dean grunts.

Anna furrows her brow. "Are you okay, Dean?" she asks concerned.

"Yeah, just not really convinced about this whole wedding business. Don't you think it's too fast?"

The man tilts his head to the side and Dean starts seeing the family resemblance. "I think that they complement each other very well. I would have expected Sam's best man to see that, too."

Dean can't really argue with that. "I don't know her well enough to judge. I just know that my brother is a different person now."

"And you don't like that?" the woman asks. Hell, Dean doesn't even know their names and spills all the beans, probably making an ass of himself.

"He's my brother. I know him better than anyone and this—" He gestures in the engaged couple's direction. "This isn't the man I raised."

Two pairs of eyes move to the tall men and back to Dean.

"You mean a happy man?" the woman asks.

"No. I mean…" Dean should have kept his mouth shut. They don't know Sam, his dark thoughts, the forced smiles, the brave face. Dean knows it all or at least well enough to know that the chuckling man on the other side of the room is a stranger to him. Okay, maybe Dean is a bit overdramatic. He knows Sam laughing, pulling pranks. But life had been shitty to both of them and the only people they could always rely on were the two of them.

Yes, their circles have widened over time, with Jody and the girls, Charlie and Dorothy. Still, happiness isn't really part of their lives. They might get glimpses of it, but…

"You mean what? That our sister isn't good enough for your big shot lawyer brother?" the man asks.

Dean freezes. He sometimes forgets that Sam isn't little Sammy anymore. That he's one step away from leaving his old life behind, and with it his big brother, probably.

Dean scans the people in the room, mainly the bride's family and he swallows hard. Yes, he's the odd one out. He only owns a single suit, so he couldn't wear it tonight. Is it that? Is he jealous? Or anxious to lose Sam?

He looks back at the bride and groom. Sam presses a kiss into Rowena's hair. From afar, they are a cute couple with the difference in height and the unconventional age gap.

Dean bites the inside of his cheek and tries to unclench his fists. It isn't working.

"She's way out of his league," he hears himself say, not knowing where this is even coming from.

"That's what you said, Anna, the first time you met Sam," the man chuckles.

Anna? Oh, that's the future sister-in-law Sam raved about and Dean thinks he wants to set him up with. Well, that probably flew out of the window a minute ago.

"I didn't, Castiel. I said I was surprised that she went for someone younger. That's all."

Dean's eyes shoot up. That's the man? The man, who he built up as the bogeyman who would get familiar with his fist? A fucking baby in a trenchcoat?

The whole house of cards that Dean has built up over weeks is threatening to collapse. Dean's throat tightens and he pops a button on his polo shirt, but to no avail. He meets Castiel's eyes for a moment, the other man squinting at him as if he could look deep into his soul.

"Are you okay, Dean?" he asks and sounds concerned.

"Yeah. Just need some air," Dean all but spits and heads for the door.

He props himself up on the roof terrace's balustrade and tries to sort through all his contradicting feelings. He hates it. It's all him. His fear to be left behind, for the only constant in his life to leave, like everybody else who has ever meant something to him. He's jealous and the realisation hits him hard.

Yes, he doesn't know Rowena, but Sam does. Well enough to want to marry her. Sam, who thought he was too toxic for a real relationship. Dean always told him that this was bullshit. And now that his little brother is finally listening, Dean acts like a jaundiced ex? Fuck!

"There you are," a too-familiar voice comes from behind. "I thought you left me hanging, man."

Dean chuckles. "I have to lead the bride to the altar, right?" He ruffles Sam's hair. His brother glares at him, but without heat.

"Wanna come in? I'd like to introduce you to Rowena's best man."

"Who's that?"

"Castiel."

Dean's eyes sink to the floor. Of course, he is. "Already met him."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you already snubbed him."

"Nah. I wouldn't embarrass you in front of your new family." It's enough that Dean embarrassed himself.

"Most of them are kind people," Sam says carefully. "And after tomorrow, Rowena is your family, too."

Dean works his jaw. It's a bit difficult to look at Sam, now that he realised that he's never given his fiancée a real chance.

"You'll be here in California, and I'll be back in Kansas. We'll be lucky if we see each other on Christmas."

Sam squeezes his shoulder. "You could move here, Dean."

The older brother shakes his head. "I don't belong here, Sammy." Another squeeze. "And I can't afford to take off so much to drive over." And soon you'll be too busy to fly back to where everything feels small and like past, he adds in his head. He puts on a smile nonetheless.

"Samuel?" Rowena calls from the entrance. "Dinner starts in five."

Sam smiles over to his future bride. "I just need a minute, mo ghràdh."

"Mo what?"

"It's Scottish Gaelic for 'my love'."

Dean raises an eyebrow and chuckles. "You really got it bad, huh?"

"I wouldn't marry her if I didn't."

Dean pats his back. "I'm happy for you man." He's surprised that he means it.

***

Dinner goes fine and Dean has a nice conversation with Anna, who is seated next to him. Luckily, she's not of the resentful kind. Still, Dean is feeling out of place. Their found family is so much smaller than Rowena's real one with all the siblings and cousins from both sides of the pond. And this is only the rehearsal.

As soon as dinner is done, Dean excuses himself and flees to the hotel. A real one that Sam was kind enough to pay. It makes Dean feel only smaller and not good enough.

He takes a shower and walks out on the balcony, just a towel slung around his waist. He can hear the waves hitting the beach nearby and seabirds screeching. He gets why Sam moved here, why he won't come back. It still stings.

Dean did everything in his power to get him so far and he can't bring himself to regret it. But he's still angry. Maybe he is anger, plain and simple. He's been angry since his mother died and his father gave a shit about giving his sons a home. This anger will probably never go away. It's good that Sam found happiness, Dean muses. At least one of them should.

There's movement on the balcony next door and despite the separation wall, Dean can see the trenchcoat clad arms propped up on the railing. What are the odds?

"Castiel?"

There is a long pause and then comes, "Dean?" This gravelly voice doesn't fail to move him. If Dean didn't decide to scratch the term 'witch' for his future sister-in-law, he would wonder if her stepbrother might be a witcher, too.

"Yeah. Not into parties?"

There is another pause, probably filled with a head shake Dean can't see. "I don't like crowds of people. And my family is, well, my family. I love them, but it's complicated."

"I get it," Dean says, although he probably doesn't.

"You seem to have cooled down a little," Castiel states matter-of-factly.

"Was it so obvious?"

Castiel laughs and the sound vibrates into Dean's heart, churning it in delicious ways. "You looked as if you were out to kill someone."

Dean chuckles. "I kinda was."

"Why? And who?"

Dean swallows hard. What he would give for a beer right now, but he had way too much of that red wine already. Maybe that's why he answers, "You." There is a long moment of surprise that Castiel doesn't seem inclined to break, so Dean adds, "I built up this story in my head that Rowena bewitched Sam and you were at fault because you brought them together."

"And now?"

Dean shrugs his shoulders. "I only want Sammy to be happy."

Castiel hums on the other side of the separation. "Why are you sounding so sad then?"

A flare of anger rises in Dean's chest. The man doesn't know him. What gives him the right to state something like this?

"Blow me, Cass!" he grinds out. That guy is getting under his skin. Why, he doesn't know. Maybe because he's right.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The retort comes quick like a shot and Dean is struck speechless for a way too long moment. Castiel starts chuckling.

"You're an asshole!" Dean grumbles.

"An asshole who gives good head, though," Castiel says smugly.

Dean groans. No, he won't think of these sinful lips wrapped around his cock. No way, José.

"Is that an offer?" his mouth asks without his consent.

"I'm not a one-off kind of guy, Dean."

Dean wishes he wouldn't have to lie if he said he wasn't either. Is there an expiration date for that stamp if you haven't got laid for more than a year? Probably not.

The silence stretches into an eternity until Castiel quietly says, "Good night," leaving Dean alone in the pale moonlight.

***

Rowena looks beautiful and Sam smart. Dean manages to get through the whole wedding ceremony and his best man speech without a single glimmer of jealousy. Bobby looks at him approvingly and Ellen whispers into his ear that his mum would have been so proud of him.

Still, Dean finds himself on the balcony once again. His thoughts need space to swirl around him. There's a lot to process on this fine day—his brotherly/parent-like love, his own loneliness in a room full of people, the strange stares that Castiel and he have been sharing the whole day…

He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes, hoping to force back the sting of tears building up in them. A warm hand lands on his shoulder, startling him. "You've done well."

Dean chuckles without mirth. "Can't remember when anyone said something like this about me." He bites his lip, hard. Why did he say that? To a complete stranger nonetheless. Castiel doesn't comment on it, though, and Dean sighs in relief.

The music coming from the party changes to something slow and Castiel asks, "May I have the next dance?"

Dean turns his head and stares at the outstretched hand for a very long moment. He has never danced with a man before. Not without a beer bottle in his hand and for sure not a slow dance. But he feels a pull to this man, who he hated with all his guts just a day ago. A man with kind eyes, a shy smile, and a patience Dean isn't used to.

He takes the offered hand and Castiel's smile grows wider, just like Dean's heart. Castiel pulls him slowly into his arms, lets him settle against him, and rewards Dean's head leant against his own with a gentle brush over his back.

Dean shivers at the tender touch and bites the inside of his cheek in a last attempt to keep back the tears welling up in his eyes.

"It's okay," Castiel says. "Let go. No one will see it."

And Dean does. In the arms of a stranger under the Californian moon. He doesn't shake off the tender hand carding through his hair, or the strong arms holding him upwards. He lets out the sobs he's been holding and allows Castiel to brush away his tears before their lips meet in a gentle kiss. He smiles at Castiel bashfully afterwards.

"It's okay," Castiel repeats.

Dean chuckles. "Is it? Crying like a baby in a stranger's arms?"

"Crying like the big brother, who raised a wonderful man and has to let him go to live his own life. Crying like a lonely man, who hasn't been touched intimately for ages."

Dean furrows his brow. "How?"

Castiel smiles at him with so much warmth that Dean feels like welling up again.

"Sam loves you. He talks about you all the time. It felt like I knew you before we even met. And the rest? Let's say, kindred souls recognise each other."

Dean huffs a laugh. "You're good, man."

Castiel smirks at him. "And you're a good man, Dean Winchester," he says and leans in for another kiss.

Maybe, Dean muses, Castiel is magical after all.

#dean winchester #castiel #human au #deancas #destiel #fanfiction #destiel fandom #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fandom #deancas fic #deancas fanfic #deancas fanfiction #emotional hurt and comfort #jealous dean #sad dean #understanding castiel #first kiss

[missturtleduck]

hi i saw ur requests were open and i would love if u could do a sokka x reader :) where reader is really shy and he likes to tease her and flirt with her to see her all flustered but she denies him actually liking her bc she thinks it’s just his personality to be funny like that. but then there’s the classic oh no there’s only one bed thing? thank you!

Ooooh I loved writing this! Tropes? Love them. Fluff? So fun, so sweet. I hope you enjoy, anon, and have a very happy holiday! <3

Teasing

Sokka x shy!Reader

It was a well-known fact that Sokka was a tease.

Now, he wasn’t a tease in the common sense, more that he took some joy in being a so-called comedian. Y/N seemed to be the person in their gang that got the brunt of his teasing. Every time he came up with some sarcastic quip, she would laugh along with everyone else – though most of the time she was the only one who found him funny – but then there were the other times.

She had been sparring with Zuko, who was surprisingly adept with swords for a bender, when Sokka had come by whistling with faux innocence. As he took a seat on the floor, his eyes were trained on the fight. Feeling his blue-eyed gaze boring into her, she felt her entire body flush. Steadying her breathing, Y/N pushed down the flustered flutter bats inhabiting her stomach. A frustrated cry escaped her lips as she pinned Zuko’s blades to the floor with her own.

“Sokka,” She breathed out, hating how hot she felt. “Sokka, w-what are you doing?”

He grinned. “Just enjoying the view. You know, I always thought red was Zuko’s colour, but you are boasting a lovely shade today.”

Absently, Y/N put a palm to her face, only becoming more flustered as she realised her skin had in fact became darker. As the blood rushed faster through her body, she looked desperately at Zuko for some reprieve.

“Sokka, are you here for any reason other than being a complete clown?” Zuko said, sighing in pure exasperation even as Y/N had him pinned.

The boy ignored him completely. “Has anyone ever told just how adorable you are? Because you really are.”

“Sokka,” Zuko said again, his voice less patient. “Go away before we make you.”

“Alright, alright,” He tutted, hands in the air as if in surrender. “I’ll leave you two to your dance lessons. Call me if you fall; I’ll come and catch you.”

Waiting for him to be out of earshot, Y/N groaned, dropping her sword and freeing Zuko. Her entire face was on fire. Sure, it was a metaphor, a hyperbolic one at that, but if Zuko decided to shove his ignited palm in her face, it would not manage to be as hot as she was feeling now. It might be slightly less sweaty. Ew.

Lowering herself to the ground, she sat, stretching out her aching limbs, pouring water over her roasting head. Y/N, needless to say, was mortified by Sokka’s teasing, but when was she not? She was somewhat shyer than her female friends; Katara had this maternal instinct about her that kicked into overdrive as soon as someone seemed needy. It was honestly scarier than the Avatar State. Toph was just... Toph. The girl was at least four years younger than Y/N and utterly terrifying, approaching people and situations with no fear. Then there was Suki. Suki had a knack of getting people to like her, being the loveable, charismatic leader, she was.

And that left Y/N.

Y/N struggled being heard in many a conversation. Ask her to take a compliment? No. No. Not happening. No thank you. Her shy demeanour was labelled cute by a few different people, though they all seemed to be joking – especially Sokka.

“Do you want me to sort him out for you?”

Y/N looked up, meeting Zuko’s very serious gaze for just a moment before staring at the ground. “No, it’s okay. He’s like that with everyone.”

“What?” Zuko frowned, slumping to the ground too. “What are you on about? He doesn’t flirt with everyone!”

“That wasn’t flirting!” She insisted, feeling that bashful flush creeping in again. 

“He was just teasing, like he does with everyone!”

Zuko’s lips quirked. “He called you adorable.”

“Yesterday, he called Momo adorable.”

“He said you flushed was your colour.”

“And he said that red was yours, sunshine.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll catch you if you fall!”

Y/N stammered. “He could have been talking to either of us!”

There was some silence between them. Y/N didn’t usually mind sitting in silence with Zuko, who was just as awkward as her most of the time. However, the wide, toothy grin like a catgator’s was highly disconcerting.

“Zuko, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but he wasn’t flirting,” Y/N said finally, quietly commanding. “He’s just messing around like he usually does.”

The prince sighed, suppressing his mischievous grin. Raising his swords, the pair charged each other again.

                                                      ✦

In the midst of a war, there wasn’t much space for fun. With the constant movement between the Western Air Temple and many significant locations to build their defences after the Day of Black Sun, Y/N found she hardly had time for anything other than training and strategizing. Sure, she may be considered meek when compared to her peers, but her mind was sharper than her blade.

After watching Aang master firebending, Sokka masterminding a prison break, and Katara nearly murdering a man – all with Zuko’s help – she had some whiplash. She might even say that she had been somewhat blindsided by them, but she didn’t particularly mind. It was when they moved onto Ember Island, however, that Y/N found there to be an issue. In all the excitement, or terror, of being separated from Haru and the others, and possibly murdering Sparky Sparky Boom Man, the gang ended up hiding out on Ember Island.

Spirits, did Y/N love the sunshine. The sand? Not so much, nor the swimsuits. Nevertheless, she much preferred it to Aang’s beloved ancestral temple.

“Okay,” Zuko said as they all collected together in the house, “So there’s a bit of an issue.”

“Fire Nation?” Katara asked, eyes narrowing.

“Worse,” Zuko said, voice grave. “There are seven of us, and only six beds.”

The teenagers all looked between each other with varying looks of embarrassment and disgust. It was Toph who spoke first.

“Well, I for one do not want to share a room,” She scoffed, stomping her foot – a reminder of her power. “I can already hear all of you when we sleep on the ground. I am not missing out on my chance for a quiet night of sleep.”

“That seems fair,” Zuko hummed as he pulled a hat off of a dresser. “Everyone else, unless they have some reason why not, will put their name in here.”

Sokka whined, pointing his finger at the heir of the Fire Nation. “Fine! But they should get the biggest bedroom.”

Y/N swore Zuko smirked. “Done.”

Sat on the floor watching him write names, the group waited anxiously to see who would be sharing a room at least for that night. Mixing up bits of paper, he seemed to be building up some bravado, akin to a showman about to pull a jackalope out of a hat.

“Sokka.”

The boy cursed under his breath as Zuko continued on with his little show, the piece of paper disintegrating as easily as a leaf floating in a breeze.

“And Y/N!”

She met Zuko’s eye, entire body hot, sending a psychic message along the lines of sprits, no, Zuko, no, please, Zuko, don’t do this.

Despite the fact that Y/N knew Sokka was only joking with his teasing, somewhere along the line she had ended up falling for it – for him. It was sudden and violent, the way a meteor crashed through the atmosphere, roaring, brilliant, and completely obliterating anything in its path. Currently, Y/N was that metaphorical meteorite, burning up and crashing into the earth.

Since Zuko apparently couldn’t read minds, she chanced a glance at Sokka. She expected some sort of joke, a quip, anything. Instead, he was deadly silent, stony in his face, staring too at Zuko. Was he blushing, or was she making it up in her head? This question soon slipped from her brain as she those baby blue eyes were staring straight at her.

Tui and La, Agni, spirits above; he hated her.

“Cool!” She said, though it came out more like a squeak. “I’ll see you tonight, I guess.”

“Y/N, we have the entire day before- “

She cut Suki off. “Yep, busy today! Busy, busy, busy. Plenty of strategic planning to do before the big day!”

And she was gone. Even Aang, renowned creator of the air scooter, had never seen a person move so fast, and Y/N wasn’t even a bender. In her haste, she didn’t catch the sly looks, nor the disapproving one courtesy of Katara. She definitely didn’t catch the shy grin on Sokka’s face, muddled with complete embarrassment. Getting as far away from the house as possible was her current goal, and she achieved it with insane speed – and longevity.

For an entire day, Y/N managed to see none of her friends, excluding Appa and Momo. Her animal friends seemed very concerned and very interested in her noughts and crosses diagrams in the black volcanic sand of Ember Island. It was only when Yue began to rise above the horizon that she thought it would be safe to come out. With what felt like a walk of shame, she trekked back to the beach house, a sleeping Momo cradled in her arms like a baby. Even Appa, who had been occupied with all sorts of made-up games throughout the day, was beginning to sway, eyes drooping, weighed down by sleep. Settling them down in the warm sand, Y/N climbed the wooden stairs.

Being quiet used to get her everywhere unseen; it didn’t work that night. Wordless, her friends’ good night wishes falling on deaf ears, she entered the biggest bedroom, alone. Falling face first onto the bed, she muffled a frustrated scream into one of the too many decadent pillows adorning it. Heaving herself onto her back, Y/N groaned dramatically with the effort it took. This bed was so soft. She tried to think of a more comfy, luxurious bed she had ever been on – and failed. The four-poster frame was casting odd shadows across the dark room. It felt especially lonely.

She felt especially lonely.

Sitting up, a low rumble filled the silence. Her stomach was apparently rather unhappy with the distinct lack of food during the day. Y/N had forgotten about that. She weighed up the options; go out and face embarrassment, or skip dinner for the first time in her life. Fortunately, she needn’t think long.

“So, everyone’s going to bed, and I remembered you hadn’t eaten.”

Sokka.

Of course.

“Oh,” Was all she could manage, mentally kicking herself for her utter lack of articulation. “Th-thanks, Sokka.”

Flicking on the light, the shadows no longer seemed odd, nor did the room feel lonely. There, in the doorway, stood Sokka. He was pretty – something that always took Y/N by surprise even though she saw him every day. Sure, he hadn’t grown into his gangly limbs yet, but he was getting there. His shoulders had gotten broader, his arms larger from training. She couldn’t help but imagine how comfy he’d be to lie against, how warm his hold would be.

“I brought snacks?”

Opening her mouth only to close it again, Y/N felt like a fish thrown mercilessly out of water. Instead, she managed a timid pat on the bed. He was slow to react, slower to move, and she only felt more inadequate. Whatever Zuko thought he saw at the temple was wrong.

“Wow, this bed is soft,” Sokka gasped, bouncing lightly on it like a small child. “It’s like sitting on a cloud!”

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that passed her lips as she took a slice of fruit from the platter he had brought in. For the briefest moment, infinitesimally small, Sokka ceased with his childish antics and just looked. Brightening, he seemed to thrive – delight – in her laughter, continuing to goof about with the numerous pillows and posh looking decor.

“Whoa.”

Y/N looked up at him from her laughing, stomach aching with joy. “What?”

“I didn’t know you could get prettier,” He said, brows furrowed, eyes sparkling.

She turned mute in an instant, feeling that all too familiar flush again, only this time it was close – more intense. Silent, she took another piece of fruit, eating it in moments, anything to give her time. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “What? No. I’m not- “

“It’s okay if you are!” Y/N insisted, her smile plastered on and her heart aching. “I know you joke about with us all, and it’s just how you are. It’s not a bad thing, and I know you’re just joking and- “

“Y/N,” Sokka said, almost incredulous. “I’m not joking. I have never joked about that kind of thing with you.”

She stopped dead. “What?”

It wasn’t a question – well, not to Sokka at least. That one word was her address to the universe. It was astonishment, frustration, incredulity, sheer joy, so many emotions all wrapped into one simple word. The moments that passed between that word and their locked gaze spoke a thousand more words, sang a hundred more emotions.  

“You didn’t know?”

Her head was empty. “Prettier?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sokka chuckled weakly, moving the platter to the side.

“Prettier,” Y/N repeated slowly, looking up at him, “As in I was already pretty?”

“Erm, yes?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Tui and La, yes.”

Oh.

“Okay,” She said, testing the waters, “And you like it when I blush?”

“Yeah, you look cute,” He admitted, sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Looking down, bashful, she recalled training with Zuko. “The word you used was adorable.”

No words came in response to that, only a gentle hand on her cheek. Guiding her face up, Sokka looked at her and saw her. Y/N could see him reaching for words that danced in his mind and away from his grasp, so many more pretty, teasing words he could say. But he wasn’t teasing, not really. He certainly wasn’t when he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet and easy to melt into; she didn’t need to be shy, not with him.

They shared more sweet kisses, laughing under the moonlight in that fancy bed they got to share. Fruit, a bed, kisses; they shared them all, drifting into an easy sleep as the moon began to slip away into daylight. Basking in the prospect of a lazy morning, they made the most of it.

They weren’t even mad when they found out Zuko rigged the entire thing.

#atla #fic request #anon request #sokka x reader #sokka x shy!reader #the beach #sokka #platonic zuko x reader #fluff #aang #katara #toph #suki #oneshot #missturtleduck

[violetjedisylveon]

Gold and Blue (and red too)

Summary: After his success in retrieving Titan's Blood, Hunter reunites with someone he hasn't seen for years and realises how much his actions effect them.

Word count: 7.2k (sorry it's long, I tried to cut it as much as I could)

Warnings: emotional abuse, child abuse, emotional manipulation, mentions of killing, violence, fighting, stabbing, blood, flashbacks.(typos

A/N: keep in mind this is in my Blue Guard AU, any similarities between this and season 2b are coincidental since I'm writing before it comes out. *This is taking place before the Coven Day Parade!!!*

And Carlyne(one of my OCs) is on her way to five hundred years old, sometimes her memories get mixed up and she gets a little confused or sees other people because she's old and got a lot in her head already and her brain makes assumptions and mistakes. It's not meant to be representative of anything, she's just really old and remembers a lot of stuff and sees people she knew in others.

Blue Guard AU Link here, He Looks Like Her(art)

________________________________________________________________________________

Hunter's first misson after Eclipse Lake was accompanying Carlyne Nazik, original head of the Emperor's Coven, acclaimed researcher, historian, warrior, diplomat and perhaps the most powerful being on the Isles, he thought it a little boring and he had to work with Kikimora so that wasn't fun but he'd work with it.

He could further prove himself to Belos. Everything would be fine.

And then, he saw who else would be going with them standing by Nazik in the throne room.

Red horns, big ears, pastel pink hair, blue helmet. He couldn't believe his eyes.

She was still alive. She was still here. Five years later and she was right there. The only person he considered family outside of Belos.

Argeintisum.

XXX

Hunter hadn't seen Argi in five years. The last time he had seen her, it wasn't good, she had been bleeding yellow from her horns and she'd been hurt. Uncle hadn't been happy to see it when he found them.

He still hadn't gotten over the shock, he'd have to ask her about it.

He ignored Kikimora and Nazik talking, he was focus Argi acting like nothing was wrong. It bothered him. Maybe she doesn't wanna talk about it.

"We're here!" Nazik exclaimed while stretching her arms out wide.

The water stretched out in front of him, the sands spread out as far as he could see in both directions. There wasn't much cover, he felt an itching nervousness at being so exposed.

Argi approached him with a half formed spell circle.

"I'll do you first." She said.

She finished the circle and sent the glowing ring in his direction.

He shivered as the tingling sensation filled his body. He always hated the way this spell felt.

He wasn't given any time to wait for the tingling to subside since Argi grabbed his arm and pulled him down to the water, pulling him along with her like she used to do when she was excited. He stopped short of the edge and backed up, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him, the gray-green confused color of her eyes reflecting on the blue metal of her helmet.

"It's a protection spell, you can go in the water now." She said.

She was already in the water. But that wasn't what kept him from following her out. Questions did.

Evidently, Nazik noticed the tension between the them and decided to act.

"Oh shi-crap, Kiki I need to get something, why don't you come with me?" She suggested.

Kikimora looked between Nazik and the Guards.

"I wasn't asking." Nazik added after seeing Kiki would've challenged her on it and deciding to remind the demon of her superior position.

Hunter hardly noticed the older demons leaving the scene to give them some space. Argi still showed the confused color.

"They're acting weird. Whatever, how have you been?" She asked, the confusion faded into yellow.

She was being so casual, it was like nothing had ever happened, like she hadn't been gone for five years! He couldn't take it and snapped at her.

"Yeah, I have a better question, where have you been?" He asked.

Perhaps his tone had been a bit too harsh. A bright red flashed as she took a step back into the water, her ears flattened back in a way that signified hurt or fear. He hadn't meant to scare her.

"I've... been busy." She said quietly.

Hunter didn't buy that lie, he knew what she looked like when she was lying.

"For five years? The last time I saw you, you were bleeding yellow from your horns. I thought you were going to die!" He raised his voice accidentally, forgetting about her more sensitive hearing.

"I thought I was dying too." She said in an attempt to lighten the situation.

It didn't help.

"Are you going to tell me where you've been for the past five years?" He asked

She stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed.

"Hunter... I can't." She whispered softly.

"How so? Why can't you tell me?" He asked.

"You wouldn't like it... you'd be mad." She spoke in a way that seemed rehearsed, as if she'd been preparing for this for a long time, or was being told what to say.

"Is this because of the incident?" Hunter asked.

She was rubbing her tails together nervously, her ears were down, her eyes were a deep sickly green. Fear. She's scared... not of me though...

"Argi is something going on with you and uncle?" He asked

"... No. He told me it'd be better if I didn't do that with you around anymore so I stopped showing up, he said it was safer that way." Argi admitted.

Hunter remembered the anger on Belos's face when he saw what was happening with an involuntary flinch. He was positive there was more Argi didn't wanna talk about, he didn't wanna talk about what Uncle had told him either. Still, being seperated hadn't gone over easy with him.

"It's okay, I'm sure he had a good reason." He said, trying to ignore the pain from that particularly dark moment in his life.

"Yeah, I almost killed you, that's reason enough." Argi scoffed.

"Right..."

Argi flicked him with her tail, the yellow was back, though not as vibrant as before.

"You didn't answer, how've you been?" She asked.

"Fine." He answered.

"And the Latissa and Knee incidents were 'fine' eh?" She prompted.

Hunter felt his ear tips get warm.

"You heard about those?"

"My ears are huge, I hear everything."

Even with the helmet on, Hunter knew she was smiling.

"C'mon, we can set up while Miss Nazik and Kiki do whatever they're doing." Argi stepped out of the water and grabbed his hand.

XXX

Hunter walked along side Argi, their mission had been quick and eventless. He smiled as he watched Argi kick up clouds of sand and giggle childishly. She never was all that serious.

A high, pleasant chirp came from above, Hunter looked up as a blur of blue darted low across the sand. It landed on Argi's arm.

The mostly cyan blue bird made a series of chirps and squeaks to Silver. She nodded and laughed.

That's right... She has a Palisman...

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the bird grabbing onto his arm and climbing up his shoulder. It chirped and peered a yellow eye into his mask, he stepped back in alarm.

"Phoebe! Stop scarring him, silly bird." Argi scolded her Palisman gently.

Phoebe made a disappointed sound but flew back over to Argi. They perched on her head, nestled between her horns.

"You scared of a little birdie?" Argi teased.

Hunter crossed his arms and huffed.

"No, why would I be scared of her." He responded.

"I dunno, why are you acting that way?" She asked.

Should I tell her about him? Will she tell Uncle? Maybe she'll-

"Hunter? Are you okay? You're shaking." He shivered as he felt Argi's hand brush against his sleeve.

She pulled back so it was hovering just above his arm. Both knew neither liked surpise touch.

"I'm fine." He lied.

"So, what's your next mission?" She asked.

"I'm not sure, Uncle's not been giving me many missions lately." Hunter admitted.

Even with his retrieval of the blood, he still hadn't gotten any missions, this was the first since Eclipse Lake.

"Maybe he just wants you to take a break? You've been working really hard for a while." She suggested.

Hunter grunted back, he doubted that suggestion.

"What's your next mission?" He asked.

"Oh I've always got something to do, I'm sure he'll send me on one out of the blue any time now." She shrugged.

"And what is it he has you doing?" Hunter prompted.

There was a sudden shift in her demeanor, she stiffened, there was a slight change in the color of her eyes. It was just barely noticeable and vanished quickly.

"It's nothing too hard for me." Her voice was tight and he could hear the unspoken word; physically.

"And that's a what?" He pressed.

"Hunting." She said shortly.

"Oh."

I get why she doesn't want to talk about that, those types are ruthless. Does she do it alone? Traffickers and hunters are extremely dangerous, how does she do it alone? He wondered.

Argi flicked him playfully with a tail.

"You're not giving Phoebe enough credit." She pointed to the Palisman resting on her head.

"I guess." He seriously doubted how much the phoenix could do when they were seriously outnumbered.

Said Palisman chirped at Argi, her large ears bent down in disappointment as she let out a sigh.

"Sorry, Phoebe just told me about something that'll defenately be a hassel if I don't deal with it now. I gotta go." She told him sadly.

Oh. He shoved aside his disappointment at her leaving so soon.

"Duty calls, I understand." He offered out his hand.

She grabbed it and pulled him towards her into a hug. He'd known it was coming and returned the gesture.

"I missed you." He whispered so quietly he hardly heard himself, she'd hear.

Sure enough, her ears twitched towards him, she squeezed tighter.

"I missed you too." She whispered back.

He didn't want to let her go. Last time he'd let her go she'd disappeared for five years and shown up so unexpectedly.

"Are you going to leave again?" He asked.

She looked up at him, the vibrant yellow told him she was smiling.

"Hunter, I never left." She said.

Phoebe chirped again, Argi let go. She waved to him as Phoebe took their staff position.

"Byeeee!" Her tails cast a small spell circle and she disappeared just like that. Invisibility was a hallmark of her species.

Hunter sighed and looked around. He was pretty sure Argi was gone now, he never could tell with her invisibility stuff.

"You can come out now." He said.

Flapjack came out from the pocket in his cape that the little rascal had adopted as his nest. He flew up to his shoulder and nudged his cheek.

"Who is she?" Flapjack's voice was high and chirpy like Phoebe's.

He wondered if all bird Palisman sounded similar or spoke in that chirpy, sing-songy way. Maybe one day he could ask Argi what Phoebe sounded like.

"Argi. She's my sister." Hunter told him.

"She's nice, she smells like forests, wood, herbs, spices and smoky food, I like her. You should be with her more." Flapjack chirped.

"What's in it for you?" Hunter asked.

"She has the good treats." Flapjack said honestly.

Hunter chuckled and scratched under Flapjack's chin.

"She always did have snacks.".

XXX

Hunter was in his usual private training spot several miles away from the castle. He'd usually spend five to six hours here just training. It was normal to Argi.

She watched him from her perch in a tree above, he wouldn't see or hear her.

The beauty of the Vanished Existence Spell was that it masked any and all traces of her existence, nothing she did could give her position away, it was like she wasn't even there.

She jumped down from her perch to better watch the area. She landed in front of Hunter and felt a twinge of sadness when he carried on as if she wasn't there. That was the whole point of her job and, her reason for existing. She was a guard. His guard. One he would always have around, even if he didn't know it.

She sighed, her tongue felt around her gums, she'd lost a fang. Her fangs were bitches growing back in. A consequence of having retractable fangs. They'd have to grown in a lot before being capable of retracting in again. She'd have to either have her other fang out, effectively having both out, and be stretching her jaw at all times, or she'd have the awkward lopsidedness that came with only one fang out.

But that wasn't her problem yet. The problem was her gums hurt like hell right now!

Argi wanted to slap herself for being so distracted that one of the hunters got close enough to land a hit, which broke her helmet and knocked out that pesky fang she was now missing. To add to that delightful problem, she was experiencing odd pains at random in her body, something that usually came with needing to discharge but she'd done that two weeks ago so it wasn't time yet.

And her bile sacks were acting weird. Her last outburst was much more volitile than it was supposed to be, like when she missed a day or two of her reduction potion and her next outburst was incredibly violent, even though she hadn't missed a single day this time.

It was all so frusterating when she couldn't get her body to function correctly, something was always hurting, aches from previous fights acting up, random pains from her scars or a massive fucking headache.

There was almost nothing she could do about it! The pains came and went with no rhyme or reason. It all made her so angry that she just couldn't work right for one day! She kicked at the dusty ground in frustration.

"I hate this!" She shouted loudly, no one but her Palisman would be able to hear her complaints.

Before she could go off on an upset tangent, there was a twinge in her chest. A feeling she knew well. Her bile wasn't just acting weird. It was being over produced. She'd gotten her potion every day for the last two weeks. It could only mean one thing, the dosage wasn't enough anymore. She'd need to talk to Miss Carlyne about it soon.

Fuck! She cursed.

She hated when this happened, it always meant a bad outburst no matter what.

Wasn't I doing something? She asked herself.

She turned and saw Hunter, still training, he had stayed safe during her little mental tantrum. You shouldn't do that. It's not safe for him. A small voice told her like she didn't know already.

She had half a mind to tell the little voice to shove off when she remembered it was just her trying to remind herself to stay focused. So, nothing important.

Something that was important, was the distinct, imedeatly recognizable sound of an abomination. Multiple abominations actually.

She whiped arouned and scanned the trees for any 'hidden' threats. Nothing could hide from her, she could see through every single invisibility or cloaking spell in existence.

She spotted the gray glowing haze that covered those using less advanced invisibility spells than her own. One that merely wrapped and warped light around one to make them appear invisible but the imperfections of the spell would give them away to anyone looking hard enough, though her eyes saw a gray glow in the shape of whoever was there. Cloaking spells gave off that gray or silver glow to her because she was a Palisde, it was just what they did.

She hissed and summoned Phoebe. Someone was trying to ambush her brother. That was not something anyone got away with.

A near silent shot rang out, abomination goo shot out towards Hunter's position. Argi cast a small spell to get him to see. He did and was able to dodge.

More balls of goo shot out, pink fire did too. Hunter started deflecting them with his staff, he was doing good as always, but he'd need her help if what her ears were telling her was true. It was.

A massive wave of flaming abomination goo surged out of the trees.

Argi jumped in front of Hunter and cut through the wave with ease. He was bound to have noticed that.

Hunter stared in shock as the wave of flaming abomination goo was cleaved in half before he could even do anything.

"Hunter." The voice of Argi coming from nowhere scared the shit out of him.

"Gah!- Argi What are you doing here, where are you?" He asked, looking for his sister.

A hand grab his shoulder, he saw two faint dark red glows in front of him.

"What-"

"No time. Someone's trying to kill you." She gave him a shove away from the action.

"And don't try saying you can handle this, you couldn't handle Blight and this is way worse, she wasn't trying to kill you." She added before he had the chance to protest.

Assassination attempts were very serious, anarchist or bitter criminals trying to get back at whoever was responsible for their capture hired assassins or did it themselves. The cut throat nature of the higher coven ranks meant it was equally likely that someone within the coven was trying to kill him. Kikimora if he had to guess.

Hunter felt odd not watching his back as he retreated. But Argi was watching it and doing a good job as far as he could tell.

Some twig or branch cracked, she reacted like he was gonna die.

"Move!" Argi shoved Hunter away from the incoming attack.

She realised the slight mistake a split second too late. The dagger was already forcing itself into her side, she could feel stinging hot liquid come from it. Poison. Of course she also felt blood but she was fairly desensitized to blood on her skin.

She looked down to her side at who'd tried to kill Hunter. Not much surprise, she saw Kikimora, confused as to why Hunter wasn't the one she stabbed.

Kikimora was even more surprised when she looked up and saw bright, angry red. Argi growled and sent the small demon off with a small explosion. She pulled at the dagger in her side and immediately regretted it.

Damn, stupid thing's serrated.

She turned back to Hunter and found him staring at her with wide panicked eyes. Oops.

"Argi?!" His eyes were focused on the poison blade sticking out of her side.

She's bleeding! He stared at the viscous, deep red blood spreading across her clothes. The knife used with built in poison, a favorite of assassins or vindictive criminals since the poison was a very painful one.

Argi was shockingly calm for just being stabbed and bleeding.

"You- there's poison- You're hurt!" He shouted.

"It's no big deal. It's not very deep." She gave a shrug.

"What? 'No big deal'? You're litterally bleeding right now!" Hunter exclaimed.

"I've had worse. Now come on, we need to move." She gave him another push away from the scene of the attack.

"You are explaining later." Hunter told her.

Argi rolled her eyes playfully despite the situation. She heard Kikimora running towards them again. That bitch!

She shoved Hunter back again and let off a lightning spell. She knew she had missed since she didn't hear any of the sounds that would have come with it. She scanned the area with eyes and ears.

"You should go." She whispered.

"I'm not running away while you risk your life for me!" Hunter protested.

Argi glared over her shoulder at him.

"It's my job, let me do it and get out of the way." She snapped.

"I can protect myself, you know." Hunter growled.

"Then why am I here?" Argi turned to face him.

"I don't know! I can fight, I'm not useless!" Hunter shouted.

"This isn't about any of that! I don't care how you feel about me being here. It's my job to protect you, I am going to do it and I can do it much better if you are out of the way!" Argi shouted.

Hunter studied her. She looked slightly annoyed with her tails twitching the way they were but the rest of her body spoke to a different feeling. A desperate, scared one. She was stiff, tense, waiting for something to happen, her ears were still moving all around, she was hyper-alert. Is she that scared for me? He wondered.

"Fine, but you are going to meet me and we'll go back together." He stated.

She relaxed a bit then bolted his direction and shoved him down onto his back. He winced as the air was knocked out of him. He gasped in the cold air and was revolted at the stench of poison that hung in the air.

Stunned, he could do nothing but watch Argi dash in front of him again. The invisible assailant must've grown annoyed with the interface to their plan since they started going after Argi, she jumped back out of range of whatever weapon they were using. There was a large tree behind her.

It's a trap!

"Behind you!" He shouted a warning.

She glanced behind herself a little too late and slammed into the tree. He watched in horror as the invisible weapon cut through her clothes and across her stomach to the knife in her side. Argi glared and tried to cast a spell but they cut across her again. Her self muffled scream of pain and agony wasn't something Hunter would ever forget.

Blood dripped from the raised blade, Argi wrapped her arms around herself and slumped down.

"This'll teach you to get in my way!" He knew the voice.

That's Kikimora!

Hunter seethed, anger controlled his movements. Before she could make another move, Hunter blasted Kikimora far away from his sister.

He scrambled up and over to Argi. The one dagger was still lodged in her side, the bright yellow skin on her stomach was tainted deep red by the blood she was losing. She was trying to stop the bleeding with little success, it had spread to her arms.

"Argi! Oh Titan! Are you- of course you're not, we need to get you to a healer!"

He grabbed what medical supplies he had and tried to apply it. His hands were shaky, the first layer of gauze soaked through almost imedeatly. He wrapped as quickly and efficiently as he could.

"I wanna see you..." Argi whispered.

Her voice sounded so hurt, it was hurting him just hearing it. He reached into her hood and uncliped the clasps on her helmet so he could take it off more easily than just pulling it. He tossed the blue helmet aside.

His sister's yellowy orange face twisted with pain, her sclera were flashing through many different colors, she looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. First time he'd seen her face in five years and it was in pain, just like last time.

"It hurts." She groaned.

Hunter didn't waste any more time, he scooped her up into his arms, her front facing his, so she could rest her head on his shoulder if she wanted. Her tails curled around his waist. He got on his staff and started flying back to the castle.

Argi shivered in the cold wind and tucked herself closer to him. Her body trembled, her temperature had already begun rising due to the poison.

"Don't worry Argi, you'll be okay. We'll be back in just a second and then we can fix you up and, uh we'll get some ice cream from Nazik. Does that sound good?" He told her.

"...mhm..." Was all she said.

"You'll be okay. I know you'll be okay. Titan I hope you'll be okay." He said mostly to himself.

She's gonna be okay, she'd gotta be okay. She can't... I can't let that happen! Don't think like that! She'll be fine. She's going to be okay. I hope she's okay. Titan please let her be okay. Don't let her die! Silver don't die!

XXX

Hunter stumbled off his staff and abandoned it aside outside the main entrance of the castle.

Argi was barely concious anymore, he knew the blood had soaked through the bandages, he could feel it on him. Somehow she kept her legs and tails wrapped around him, that made carrying her a lot easier, she didn't weigh much anyway.

Hunter ran through the halls, if he remembered correctly, Uncle said he was going to be in one of the briefing rooms, a meeting maybe? He didn't know for sure, he'd have to interrupt regardless. Phoebe tugged at his hair and guided him towards the right room, there were a lot, he didn't have any time to waste.

He burst through the double doors.

"Argi's hurt!" He shouted.

Belos and Miss Nazik turned to him, confusion evident on both their faces. Hunter started pacing the room, the panic he'd been holding came out.

"I was training... Someone attacked us... She got in the way... They used poison.... She got cornered, they really hurt her, she's bleeding, she's crying, she's got a fever and she's still bleeding! I tried my best but I couldn't make it stop, she kept bleeding, it's really bad, I didn't know what to do, she stopped responding on the way here. She's hurt and she's bleeding and it won't stop, she's gonna die and she's still bleeding, why won't it stop! She's sick and bleeding and sick and still bleeding and and-" Hunter broke off, gulping for air.

His throat was tight, he could hardly see anything with how blurry his vision was. He could hear his heart pounding and the blood rushing in his ears. He felt dizzy.

He barely noticed Miss Nazik in front of him until he felt her hand on his shoulders. He looked up into the two toned blue eyes, Nazik's face was full of concern and sympathy and worry.

"Hunter, I want you to take a big deep breath." Nazik told him.

Hunter couldn't, he couldn't stop panting, his heart was still racing and his head was spinning.

"Relax Hunter, you're going to pass out." Nazik repeated.

She started breathing deep and slow, Hunter copied her, breathing as slowly as he could. His head became clearer and he was able to see better. Nazik smiled at him.

"There, isn't that better?" She prompted.

Hunter quickly nodded and looked to his uncle, who'd remained quiet the whole time. Belos looked down at Argi, she wasn't awake anymore but she was still alive.

"She'll be alright once you and Carlyne take her to the healers." He told him.

Hunter nodded and followed the aincent turtle demon as she extended her hand to him.

"Argi's healer are getting ready as we speak, let's hurry. She'll be okay." She told him once he took her hand.

She'll be okay.

XXX

"We've removed most of the poison from her system and mended most of the damage, she'll need to take a few days easy, after that, she'll be good as new." Jayr, Argi's healer, smiled kindly down at Hunter.

He nodded in understanding.

"Now, let's have a look at you." The Caprine started drawing a spell circle but Hunter put his hands up to stop them.

"Uh, thank you for the offer, but I uh, can do it myself." He told them.

Jayr frowned at him, their spell circle didn't dissipate. Their face hardened as they crossed their arms.

"I didn't become a healer with the intention of letting children walk around injured." They told him.

Nazik leaned over his shoulder, he glanced up at her towering form.

"There's a reason Jayr is Argi's healer, they won't let her get away with anything. Trust me, don't make them mad." She warned.

"Sit down, I'll get you checked out." Jayr patted the observation chair.

Hunter took a cautious step towards the chair. The door behind him opened, it was Steve.

"The Emporer requests the Golden Guard in his study." Steve declared.

Hunter glanced between Jayr and Steve. Jayr looked pissed, Nazik had gone back to check on Argi.

"Fine. But come back or I'll drag you back here myself." They threatened with a soft smile.

Hunter nodded to them and left the healing wing.

Uncle's study was deep in the castle, it's where he usually slept. The single door that lead into it was old and worn.

Hunter opened it and found Belos sitting hunched over his desk. Messy pages, papers and books were scattered around the desk, that was the only messy part of the room, the bookshelves were neat and organized perfectly. Candles lit the room.

The chair creaked as Uncle turned to him. His mouth formed into a small smile but his eyes were hard.

"Healer Jayr said Argi would be okay. They wanted to check me out too." Hunter told him.

Uncle nodded and got up, he went over to his bed and sat down at the edge of it. He patted the spot next to him for Hunter to sit too.

He felt stupid, he felt like a little kid again, upset about something that didn't really matter. But this does matter! Argi was attacked! His head shouted.

"Hunter, what exactly happened when you were attacked?" Belos asked.

Where to begin? The invisibility? Kikimora maybe? Argi protecting me like that? How do I start this? Hunter stared at the ground.

"I was training, like I said before, someone attacked, they were using abomination magic, and fire. I think I was deflecting but then there was a big wave, Argi cut through it, I didn't see her, I heard her. She went off about protecting me, whoever attacked was trying to kill me, she got in the way and took the hit, then they fought more and..." Hunter trailed off.

The intense pain on her face when she was hit was burned into his brain. Her cry echoed in his ears. He couldn't say anything else about it. He looked up to Uncle.

"What did she mean? She said she was protecting me and that it's her job. What does she really do?" He asked desperately.

Uncle sighed and put an arm around him.

"I told you everyone has a use, a reason and a purpose." He started.

"Protecting you from any and all harm is Argientisum's purpose, it is a job she takes very seriously." Hunter felt his jaw go slack.

"She's gone out with you on almost every mission, she's just been invisible, she makes sure that you are safe so you can accomplish your objectives. Sometimes the nature of her job, and her disregard for her own safety, leads to injuries. She hasn't been this badly injured in a while, do you know who was attacking you?" Uncle looked him in the eyes.

"I think... it was Kikimora." Hunter said cautiously.

"Kikimora? Are you certain?" Uncle asked.

Hunter shook his head, "I thought I heard her... I was pretty sure it was her but now I don't know." He admitted.

Uncle smiled, "We can ask Argientisum once she wakes up." He got up and put both hands on his shoulders.

"Now, I want you to let Jayr look you over, they'll hunt you down otherwise, then I want you to get some rest, you'll be able to talk with Argientisum later tonight." He told him.

Hunter tried to nod but a yawn interrupted him, alerting him to his overwhelming tiredness. Belos chuckled and ruffled his hair then helped him get up.

"Come Hunter, it's time to rest." He said.

Hunter leaned into his uncle's side, letting himself practically be carried to the healers. He must've passed out somewhere on the way.

XXX

Hunter's room was full of darkness. There weren't any lights on, little came from outside due to a heavy curtain. Carlyne heard light snoring, she felt bad for interrupting what was surely his first decent sleep in a while.

She knocked on the doorframe and made a few witch lights to illuminate the room. Hunter was curled up with his sheets covering his head. A tuft of hair stuck out from the mound of blankets. She walked over and shook him awake.

He grunted and groaned in a way familiar to her. He dug his face out of the blankets and stared at her with sleepy eyes and a blank face.

She stared.

He looked like Hunter, but her head was telling her that he had darker skin, a scar on the other side of his face and dyed hair, her head was also telling her she was seeing a different witch with similar blond hair and skin but instead of magenta or rusty pink eyes, she saw light purple. She blinked, she was still seeing it.

It was a resemblance she'd never seen or considered before but now she couldn't unsee it.

Save it for another time.

"Argi is asking for you, Hunter." She said softly.

That woke him up. He stumbled out of his bed and towards the door. Carlyne chuckled and guided him out the door.

XXX

Argi was laying in her bed with a fever cloth on her forehead. Her face was flushed bright red orange, there were big bags under her eyes. An ear flicked and she turned her head as he came in.

"Hunter.." She smiled weakly.

He examined her condition. She looked less dead than she had when he'd left her but she didn't look much better. Her face still showed she was in a lot of pain, she still had a fever and looked like she was barely awake.

There was a chair pulled up beside her bed, he sat down and faced his sister.

"What... how bad is it?" He asked cautiously.

Argi made a shrug motion with her ears.

"Not enough to kill, it'll leave scars, that'll suck." She grunted.

Her hand came out from under the covers and grabbed his. He scooted closer.

"Did uncle tell you?" She asked.

"Yeah. Thank you for everything you've been doing, I didn't even know." He told her.

She gave him another smile and looked back up at the ceiling the magic glowing stars that were lighting up.

"It's fine. I always heal up, and I'd do anything to keep you safe." She said.

Anything? Even die?

Argi let out a yawn, wincing while doing it.

"Can you tell me about your mom?" She asked in a quiet voice.

"I've told you everything I remember so many times." Hunter chuckled.

Argi always liked it when he told her what he remembered of his mother. He liked it too.

He alway felt bad for Argi about this, she'd been living with uncle since before she was even a year old. Palisde did have incredible memories but things that happened before they were four months old would be foggy and hard to recall, supposedly so they couldn't remember their own birth.

She hardly remembered anything, only random little bits that sometimes made themselves known, a weird smell that she somehow knew, odd names she couldn't put a face to, words and phrases someone told her but she couldn't remember their voice. She didn't even remember how she got her scar on her lip, that was the only one she'd had when Belos found her.

He knew it could be very upsetting for her sometimes, to not remember the voice of her parents but remember what they said. Maybe that's why she liked hearing about his mother so much, she didn't want him to forget like she had.

"Beginning?" He prompted.

"Beginning." Argi confirmed.

"I don't remember her name, no one used it, but I remember what she was like. She always made sure that I was okay and safe, she was really happy. It was always exciting." He glanced at his sister.

Argi was smiling, her eyes were half closed but her hand still gripped his tightly.

"She had some kind of wolf, she'd leave them with me when she had to do things. She almost always brought me with her everywhere. She was always on the move, we never stayed anywhere for too long. When I was old enough, she told me about our family magic and that we were weaker, usually, it's funny I remember her using magic though." He paused.

"Maybe she could use magic but it was just weak? Or she used a Palisman?" Silver suggested.

He doubted the latter. If his mother was anything like Belos she would have distrusted wild magic. But she wasn't anything like Belos. A small voice told him.

"Or she used one of those old casting stick things, Glyph Quills I think? Carlyne told me that's how weaker witches made spell circles way back when." Silver added.

"I think I remember her using a wand or something." Hunter shrugged.

"She was really kind and willing to help people but I don't think she really trusted anyone, she wanted me to stay close at all times and worried when I wandered off. I think she was scared because I didn't have any magic to protect myself with. She was still the best, she always knew what to do if I was hurt or upset. She always made the greatest food."

Hunter talked late into the night until Argi eventually fell asleep. He didn't leave when she was asleep because she'd asked him to stay.

He settled in for the night on the chair that he'd been sitting in. It was big enough and pretty comfy, there was a blanket that he bundled up in.

He was restless and found himself staring at Argi sleeping form. Her Palisman wasn't sleeping either, he could see them watching from a nest set up above a lamp. The bird was a little spoiled he assumed, there were mulitple nests set up for them all over the room.

His thumb brushed against the edges of a faded scar that was on the top of her hand. He shivered. He'd gotten a glimpse of the pre-existing injuries Argi had in the healing ward, there were lots of scars, healed burn marks and blemishes on her body.

How many of those are because of me? How many times has she taken hits that could've killed me? How close to death has she gotten? How many times has she gotten this hurt? How does she do this? His anxious mind wondered.

He couldn't get it to shut up about the subject. He wanted to know how she got all those scars and how many of them were from him but at the same time he didn't. He didn't want to know how much he'd pushed her limits.

How can she not see me as a chore? You'd think after all this time she'd be tired of having to get hurt for my recklessness. Why does she seem so happy to get hurt for me? Why is she so happy to get hurt for me? He looked at her, there was a new set of scratches on her face that hadn't been there five years ago, they looked like the claw scratch of an animal.

Why does she risk her life for mine? It's like she doesn't even care if she gets hurt! Why does she do that? Does she really care about me that much? He wondered.

No, it's a job, like she said, she does it for Belos. A bitter voice told him.

She wouldn't take it that seriously if Belos just told her to do it. She's not like everyone else in the coven, she's my sister. She cares about me. He fought back.

Belos cares but you never see him doing this for you.

Since when was this internal debate about Uncle? Belos saved him, raised him, gave him magic and...

A sister who is fully prepared and willing to die for you. A sister who has been protecting you for years while you couldn't see it. A sister who shakes off stab wounds to fight for you. A sister who loves you more than he does.

Hunter stared out the window at the other end of the room. Were his thoughts and doubts were turning him against Belos? He went over those thoughts for a while, considering why they'd happened and what they meant until Argi rosed briefly.

Gold and silver flanked by purpley blue stared at him. She gave him a warm smile, in her sleepy haze she'd forgotten her pain.

"I'm glad you get to see me again. I was lonely without you." She yawned.

There was a glint on her single fang as it stretched out with her yawn. He chuckled softly, she scooted closer to the edge of the bed.

"I'm glad to see you too." He told her.

He heard the faint tapping of her tails wagging.

"Night Hunter... Sleep tight... Don' let Phoebe bite." She whispered.

"Night Argi." He whispered.

She fell back asleep shortly after. The sound of her breathing echoed in his ears, he could pick up the sound of her dual hearts, the beat had a bit of a follow up echo to it from her bile sacks. It lulled him to sleep. It was the best he'd gotten years.

XXX

Carlyne couldn't get the image out of her head, she couldn't shake off the resemblance they shared or how much sense it made. Because it did make sense, a whole lot of sense.

Hunter was sixteen, Sunnie had disappeared a little over sixteen years ago. And he looked like her, he looked like both of them. And like him.

She couldn't shake the implications from her mind. Hunter's ear nick had been there since Belos brought him, she'd never put any real meaning to him calling Belos 'uncle' since Silver did it too and they certainly weren't related, but now, she saw what she hadn't before.

He was young, his family had died, Sunni had been supposedly found dead before he was brought, Belos had told her, wild magic killed his family and killed Sunni but...

She used my kind of magic, the old stuff. Nobody would've known their relation to each other, most still respected their name at the time, who would have attacked her? And how the fuck did Jayr not know? Sunnie is their wife! Why weren't they with her, why doesn't he look like them too? But he's so much like her... I have to ask.

Carlyne made up her mind and headed towards Belos's study. She had to know.

She didn't even bother to knock, it wasn't important at the moment. Belos would just have to deal with it.

He was at the other end of his study. His mask was on, that meant he wouldn't be giving her any direct answers but she knew how to get an indirect one out of someone. And even his direct answers could be full of lies.

"Carlyne, what are you doing here so late?" He asked.

"I took Hunter to see Silver." She said.

"And I saw something." She fixed Belos with a hard stare. She noted his tensing up.

"Have you ever noticed that Hunter looks like-"

"I know. He looks like him." Belos turned his back on her.

She'd mentioned her old friend to Belos a few times before, mostly when she noted resemblances.

She hardened her glare at his back, she'd seen this so many times before.

"Her. He looks like her. Both of them actually." She paused to let her comment sink in.

"She was pregnant when she went missing, wasn't she?" She prompted

No answer.

"Is he her-"

"You're dismissed, Nazik." He snapped.

The way he dismissed her was familiar and not in a good way. Sometimes I see him in you. Why? You're not human. You're not him. Are you?

He turned his head just enough that she could see the icy blue glow of an eye. He was telling her to back off, because he had some involvement in the situation. Because there was something he didn't want her knowing. She could tell just by looking at him. For all his secrets and the way he'd crafted his mysterious presence, it wouldn't work on her, she knew manipulation, she knew when he was trying to manipulate her and she wouldn't be fooled like she once had been those hundreds of years ago.

Her head told her someone else was there instead of Belos, someone she hated. Ash brown hair and gray blue eyes.

No! That is not him! He is dead! He's dead and gone and never coming back!

She held his gaze and hardened her glare, it was easy to project her anger onto who her head told her was there. A chilling coldness rippled off the man.

What did you do?

________________________________________________________________________________

Woah that was a long one! I tried to make it shorter and I took it down about a thousand words. I kinda needed it to be long to introduce everything and the OC characters I have in it.

Carlyne is not meant to have any sort of mental illness other than PTSD and survivor's guilt, the flashbacks and seeing other people instead of Hunter is her seeing similarities and her head jumping to conclusions.

She's defenately onto Belos though, even if she won't admit it. She doesn't like Philip if that wasn't clear.

The next chapters in this AU are going to mostly follow Argi, I've gotten the Coven Day Parade draft almost finished. Elsewhere and Elsewhen is going to be fun to write!

Have a nice day everyone!

VJS out!

#The Owl House #Toh #owl house #Toh fanfic #Emporer Belos #Kikimora #Hunter #Toh Hunter #golden guard #hunter the golden guard #Toh OC #Toh OCs #My OCs #'Silver' #Argentiesum #Blue Guard #Carlyne Nazik #Really old turtlish demon #Toh AU #Blue Guard AU #VJS Fics:P #VJS AU:P #VJS OCs:P #VJS

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - day two - day four

<3<3<3

They step out of Elide’s apartment lobby and huddle beneath the awning. Elide looks up at Lorcan and sees her scowling at the sheets of rain that pour. 

She sighs through her nose and tugs on the hem of her girlfriend’s coat, looking up at her expectantly. Lorcan’s brow furrows as she looks down at Elide, “What?” 

Elide rolls her eyes, “Stop frowning.” Reaching her hand up, she cups Lorcan’s cheek and strokes her thumb over her love’s angular cheekbone, “You know you’re going to get wrinkles, mon amour.” 

Lorcan’s stoney expression doesn’t change, but her eyes glitter with something like happiness, “I’ve been frowning my entire life and I’ve never gotten a wrinkle.” 

With a huff, Elide crosses her arms over her chest, “Tu m’énerves.” 

A slow smile stretches across Lorcan’s mouth, her sharp teeth flashing. She cups Elide’s face between her large hands and brushes her lips against Elide’s, “You bother me too, Lee.” She kisses her girlfriend fully, bumping the tip of her nose into Elide’s, “So fuckin’ much.” 

Lorcan pulls away and tracks her eyes across Elide’s face. She pecks the pert tip of her girlfriend’s nose. The freckles on Elide’s cheek shift as she smiles, “Why can’t you ever listen to a thing I say?” 

“Because I like bothering you,” Lorcan answers. 

Elide laughs and takes her hand, running into the rain. Lorcan is,  of course, powerless against her and follows, ducking her head. 

Soon, they’re pushing through the doors and smiling at each other, still holding hands. They take their coats up and hang them on the coat rack. The cosy café is decently full. Elide scans for a seat, toying with her girl’s slim fingers. 

Lorcan kisses the top of her head, “I’ll get us drinks if you find a seat.” 

“D’accord. I want… a London Fog, please,” she said, tipping her head backwards. Elide scrunches her nose up and smiles. 

Her girlfriend shares a rare smile with her, “Ok. Anything to eat?” 

“Non, je n’ai pas faim, juste mon thé.” 

Lorcan nods and they part ways, holding hands until they can’t any longer. She shoves her hands into her hoodie pocket and stands in line, idly eyeing the baked goods and pastries on display. 

She sees the brownie, that fudgy, rich, brownie and her stomach grumbles. The line advances quickly and Lorcan steps up to the counter, nodding to Luca, “Boyo.” 

“Hey, Lor,” Luca replies, his smile easy and sunny. “What can I get you lovely ladies today?” 

Lorcan arches her brow, thinking, I’m hardly a lady. “Uh… I’ll get a latte and a London Fog.” She glances at the brownie, “And that brownie.” 

Luca sets up the card machine. “You got it.” The kid serves the brownie on a small plate and slides it across the counter as Lorcan pays and tips. 

She takes the plate, nodding again, “Thank you.” Lorcan walks to the end of the counter and waits patiently. 

A short wait later, their drinks are put before her. Lorcan picks them up and balances her brownie as she walks towards Elide. 

Her girlfriend smiles and takes her London Fog, sweet, smokey steam rising from the cup. Lorcan sits in the velvet wingback chair. It’s her favourite chair, and Elide’s is the lavender cogswell chair beside it. 

Elide drinks her tea, and then takes the fork next to the decadent chocolate concoction. Lorcan arches her brow as she watches her thieving love cut a bite with the side of the fork and lift it to her mouth. She moans softly, her eyes closing. Lorcan shifts in her chair and drinks her coffee, blocking out her thoughts. 

“Mon amour, c’est si bon." Elide takes another bite and holds it to Lorcan’s lips. Lorcan accepts the bite and looks at her girl in mild shock and betrayal. “What?” 

“I asked you if you wanted anything to eat and you literally said ‘no, I’m not hungry, just my tea’. This - that’s my brownie.” 

Elide gapes and laughs, “Lorcan, sweetie. It’s one bite. J’veux juste une petite bouchée.” 

“You're evil. Should’ve known not to date a witch,” Lorcan says, taking a drink of her coffee to cut through the richness of the dessert. 

Elide rolls her eyes and takes two more bites before relenting the plate. Lorcan shakes her head as she finishes the last half in two bites, “Evil.” 

Elide huffs and focuses on her tea, flicking Lorcan’s brow. Lorcan catches her fingers and holds them loosely as they finish their drinks. After that they just… talk. Lorcan’s head rolls on the back of the chair. Elide toys with her fingers and talks about her job. 

Their friends, Nesryn and Borte, come in for to-go cups, stopping to chat a moment. Borte tells Elide about the new martial art class she’s teaching at the nearby fighting gym. 

Elide listens with rapt attention, pulling Lorcan’s hand into her lap. Lorcan watches her girlfriend with slight caution, recognising the eager and determined light in her eyes. 

The laid back couple continues on, leaving Elide and Lorcan alone again. “You gonna take that class, princess?” 

Elide hums, “Yeah… I want to.” 

Lorcan shrugs, closing her eyes, “You should. It’d be fun to watch you beat people up.” 

“That’s sick, Lorcan,” Elide frowns. 

She shrugs again. “It’d be hot.” 

Elide clicks her tongue and silently stares at her resting girlfriend. Her chest starts to constrict her heart and she brushes her lips over Lorcan’s knuckles, “Ma chère?” 

“Hmm? What is it, baby?” 

She breathes in shakily, “Open your eyes. I have to tell you something.” 

One dark, depthless eye cracks open, but Lorcan remains still. “A serious something to tell me?” 

A nod. 

Lorcan sits up, warily eyeing Elide. “‘kay. What’s up?” 

“Je t’adore.” She lifts a brow, not understanding Elide’s language. “Je t’adore, Lorcan.” 

“Love, you know I live for you to talk in Blackbeak, but I cannot understand you.” 

“J’sais pas- je t’adore. Je- I love you,” Elide says, her pulse racing. “I love you.”

Blankly, Lorcan stares at her, her face so devoid of anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing flashes across her eyes. 

Elide nods, “Um… ok. I’m-” she stands up, “I- I forgot that… I have to leave.” She grabs her phone and walks out, grabbing her jacket on her way. 

It’s nearly a minute later when Lorcan finally realises what happened. She quickly scrambles to her feet and dashes out, forgetting her jacket.

Lorcan runs in the rain and sees Elide in the road, walking quickly away. “Lee!” she shouts, going after her. “Please, princess, wait a minute.” 

Elide reluctantly stands still, but doesn’t turn. 

Her girlfriend narrows her eyes and sighs through her nose. “Elide, I- fuck, I’m sorry I froze. I was hit- I’ve dreamed about you saying that to me.”  

“Why.” 

“Because I love you. I love you, Lee.” Silently, Lorcan begs her Elide to turn around. 

Elide does, but her face remains carefully blank, her eyes red-rimmed and watery. She drops her gaze, “You’re just saying that ‘cause you- you don’t want to hurt my feelings.” 

“No, I’m not, actually,” Lorcan says, stepping forward and not caring about the rain that’s soaked her hair and shirt. “I love you, princess. I’ve… I’ve loved you for a long time.” Her hands shake slightly and she aches to take Elide in her arms, but she doesn’t dare move forward. “For a really, really long time, ‘lide. And I know you think I’m lying so you aren’t hurt. I would never lie about this, please, believe me.” 

“You love me? Tu- tu m’adores? Really?” 

“Yes, really.” 

Elide smiles and then next thing Lorcan knows, she’s being forced to take a step back as Elide crashes into her, her hands clutching the back of Lorcan’s shirt. Lorcan grins in relief and wraps her arms around Elide, inhaling the expensive, delicate scent of that elderberry and cinnamon that clings to everything Elide owns. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Elide whispers, her nose tucked against Lorcan’s. She kisses Lorcan, hoping that her kiss says it too. 

Slowly, Lorcan lets her down and cups the back of Elide’s head, graceful fingers tangled in onyx hair. “I… love you… so fuckin’ much, Elide Lochan.” 

Pulling back, Elide bites her lip and takes Lorcan’s hand, her eyes smouldering. Lorcan looks her up and down, making Elide laugh. 

She turns and soon after, they’re stumbling down her hall, too wrapped up in each other. Lorcan’s back hits the door and she slowly, slowly licks into her girlfriend’s mouth as Elide unlocks the front door and it swings open. 

Lorcan picks her up, breathing, “I love you.” 

Elide hums it back and wraps her legs around Lorcan’s waist. She leans back to drop her jacket to the floor and kisses her way down Lorcan’s strong jaw. Her hands slide over Lorcan’s shoulders and she pauses, drawing away to stare in confusion, “Où est ton… coat?” 

Lorcan blinks once and shrugs. 

“You forgot it?”

She walks into Elide’s bedroom and drops her onto the bed they didn’t bother making that morning. “I don’t like that jacket anyway.” 

Bright laughter bubbles from Elide’s throat and she tips her head back, “T’es folle, mon amour.” 

“Mmm, you love me like that.” 

“Yes… I really do.” 

<3<3<3

translations (french): Mon amour: my love Tu m'énerves: you annoy me D'accord: ok Non, je n'ai pas faim, juste mon thé: no, I'm not hungry, just my tea C'est si bon: it's so good J'veux juste une petite bouchée: I just want a little bite Ma chère: my dear Je t'adore: (romantic) i love you T'es folle: you're crazy

an: french!elide is something me n @ladywitchling​ came up with 🥰

@ladyverena​ @ladywitchling​ @mythicaitt​ @sassyhobbits​ @darklesmylove​ @julemmaes​ @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones​ @highladyofthefangirlcourt​ @darlinminds​ @nahthanks​ @sjmships​ @eyllweambassador​ @flamingveritas​ @adelzd-bookblr​ @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22​ @firestarsandseneschals​ @the-regal-warrior​ 

#femslash february #fem!elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #fem!lorcan salvaterre #isa writes lesbian shit #nalgenewhore

[longing-and-heartache-and-lust]

the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.XVI.i

[previous] [next] [Ao3]

The second-to-last chapter of my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang in collaboration with my favourite @gen-syz-art as my artist 💕

___________________________

“Do you celebrate Midinváerne?”

It’s still early in the morning, and Geralt is not entirely capable of thinking, so he asks:

“Midinváerne?”

Jaskier turns to him from where he’s picking out his clothes for the day, a fur blanket around his shoulders, and Geralt can’t help but run his gaze over his body, covered in mismatched marks.

It’s a wonderful look on him.

“Yule,” Jaskier says, using the other name of the holiday. “The midwinter solstice.”

Geralt hums, making himself more comfortable among the pillows even though he knows that Jaskier is going to tug him out of bed in the next couple of minutes.

“If you count getting drunk with my brothers as a celebration, then yes.”

Jaskier shrugs with one shoulder, his attention drifting back towards the wardrobe.

“That’s about the way that I’ve been celebrating it for the last seven years, just no brothers,” he says. “Had Aiden over once, but he usually spends the winters down south, where it’s warmer.”

He seems to finally find a shirt that he likes, and pulls it off the hangers, throwing the blanket off his shoulders to get dressed. It’s the first time that he doesn’t hide his forearms, the voluminous bell-sleeves flaring out at his elbows, and Geralt’s chest constricts with just how much it makes him feel.

Over the last month, they’ve talked about it more than once, as well as about Geralt’s own scars, and though it took him a long time, it seemed like Jaskier was finally starting to believe him when he said that they’re not that different.

His scars were reminders of the fights that hurt him but left him alive.

Jaskier’s were the same.

At first, he couldn’t sleep without a shirt on or if he was naked, without holding his arms to his chest like broken wings, but slowly, his barriers were starting to crumble.

And him now choosing to wear something that doesn’t hide his arms might be the biggest cracks they’ve yet had.

“Do Arthur and the others leave to celebrate with their families?” Geralt asks after a long moment, knowing better than to say anything about Jaskier’s choice of clothes.

“Arthur and the others?” Jaskier echoes.

“Yes. Do they leave to be with their families or do they stay here with you?”

Jaskier turns to him once more, eyes searching, and then sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand down Geralt’s thigh.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he says.

Geralt’s brows furrow with confusion, and in the stretching silence, he can hear Jaskier’s heart rate pick up.

“When I told you that everything in the mansion is created by magic, I meant it,” Jaskier finally says, voice hushed like the words themselves might break the careful illusion. “Nothing in here is real, Geralt.”

The words feel like a cold lake, taking Geralt’s breath away for an endless second before he echoes:

“Nothing?”

Jaskier shakes his head, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, and Geralt reaches out to him, linking their fingers together to give him a sense of warmth, of stability.

“Only them,” Jaskier finally says, indicating towards Asra and Lucio, peacefully asleep on the other side of the bed. “They were a gift. I once helped a man that was being hunted by Nilfgaard. I don’t know what they wanted from him but something told me I should help, so I hid him here for a little while, just until we were sure that his pursuers had passed. He had a dog with him, heavily pregnant. She gave birth to five pups, and though from the look alone I knew that he can make a fortune off those dogs, he offered that I take a couple for myself. So I chose them.”

His eyes light up, just like they always do when he’s talking about the dogs, and it softens the features of his face, making Jaskier look even younger than he is.

Asra and Lucio, somehow sensing that he’s talking about them, blink their dark eyes open and then start wagging their tails immediately, standing up and making their way to Jaskier and the witcher, licking at both of them.

Geralt has never been a big enthusiast on getting dog drool all over his face, but he can’t deny that he’d grown to love them much more than he would like to admit, so when Asra pokes her wet nose at his cheek and then licks it, he makes a face but doesn’t move away.

“I didn’t tell you this the first time we talked about it,” Jaskier says, wiping his chin with the back of his hand and patting both dogs on the head to calm them down. “But they are the reason that the bargain I’ve made is working. They’re my reason to live. If I die, who’s going to take care of them?”

That’s… well, true, Geralt supposes, but also the very thought hurts.

“So the lives of everyone in the mansion are tied to yours? What are they - illusions?” he makes himself ask, swallowing around the sudden dryness in his throat.

Jaskier shakes his head, not quite looking at him.

“I don’t know what they are,” he says quietly. “When I just got here, it took me a long time to learn to control my magic. For over a year, I was completely alone here. And that desperation made me strong enough that one day I just woke up to a house full of people. Everything hurt, not gonna lie, but I would take that pain over the empty hallways any day.”

Geralt is used to being alone. He’s alone on the Path, alone on his way to and from Kaer Morhen, but he’s never completely alone. There’s always Roach, always people around, though he hates it most of the time, and he can hardly imagine the solitude that Jaskier had to live in for over a year .

Months upon months spent locked up in a silent mansion, too big for one person, trying to come to terms with the curse and take control over the magic coursing through his veins.

And if Jaskier can create life - any form of it - his magic is more than powerful.

“And in that year, no one came looking for you?” Geralt hears himself say.

Jaskier doesn’t answer for a long time, standing up and crossing the room to the window, looking at something outside as he wraps his arms around himself. Without even thinking, Geralt gets out of the bed, one of the warm blankets still around him, and comes closer, pulling the bard into a gentle embrace.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says softly, but Jaskier shakes his head, leaning into the touch.

“I thought about it for a very long time,” he says. “Until I realised that everyone that I’ve known before had forgotten me once the curse was cast. My mother, my friends, the people I studied with in the Academy - none of them remembered me any longer. And it used to hurt horribly but it’s been so long now that I-- I almost forgot about it entirely until you asked.”

Geralt pulls him closer and presses a kiss into his hair, gentle and comforting.

“I shouldn’t have.”

Jaskier hums, turning around in the witcher’s arms to run a hand down his cheek and smile, reaching up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“You didn’t know,” he says. “And not talking about it doesn’t make it not true. I’m glad you asked.”

Geralt doesn’t think he will ever understand this.

The way Jaskier keeps his spirits up, whatever the circumstances. The way he always seems to look at the bright side, his smiles warm and genuine, despite everything.

It’s now been almost a month of trying just about everything Geralt could think of to break the curse, and every time it proved ineffective, Jaskier told him that it’s alright. That there will be other solutions to try.

As if Geralt was the one trapped in the mansion.  

He could hear him cry, sometimes, and it tore his heart apart, but Jaskier kept hiding his tears, and Geralt played along, acting like he didn’t know.

If Jaskier needed his space, he wasn’t going to question it.

But whenever he could, he liked to take his lover’s mind off the curse, see that sparkle in his eyes that he’d grown to love immeasurably.

“You know, speaking of winter holidays,” Geralt says slowly. “I got another letter from home yesterday, my brothers are telling me to give you their greetings. And so does Aiden.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen, and he takes a step back to get a better look at Geralt.

“Aiden?” the echoes. “My Aiden?”

Geralt hums an affirmative, pulling Jaskier closer again to wrap the blanket around both of them.

“I don’t know if my younger brother would appreciate you calling him yours, but yes. Has he ever told you anything about a certain Lambert?”

“Of course he has,” Jaskier nods, his smile only growing wider. “For the last three years, that's all I’ve ever heard from him. He’s hopelessly in love with that man, whoever he is.”

Geralt grins.

“Lambert is my brother.”

He wasn’t sure if Jaskier’s eyes could get any bigger but they do. Geralt can’t help but lean in and kiss him on the tip of the nose, making the bard wrinkle it.

“Lambert’s your brother?” he asks.

“Well, not by blood,” Geralt admits. “But he’s a Wolf, same as me. I’m sure he will be more than delighted to meet you when I take you to Kaer Morhen, because in the letter he said that Aiden hasn’t been able to shut up about you ever since he learned about us.”

Jaskier still looks adorably shocked, and Geralt can practically see him putting the pieces together in his mind, and uses that to his own advantage, pulling the bard back towards the bed, where it’s warm and comfortable. He’s still not fully dressed, and Geralt is only wearing smallclothes, so returning to bed would be more than perfect.

Jaskier gives him a look of protest but doesn’t say a word when Geralt pulls him onto the soft mattress, just sighs heavily before allowing the witcher to pull a blanket over both of them.

“We don’t have anywhere to be,” Geralt reminds, nosing at his hair with a sense of accomplishment.

“Don’t mean we can just stay in bed all day. We’ve been doing this for the past month and a half,” Jaskier tries, weakly.

Even as he speaks, he makes himself more comfortable on Geralt’s chest.

“I will tell you embarrassing stories about Lambert that you’ll be able to taunt him with when you meet him,” the witcher offers.

He knows that on some level it’s wrong - changing the subject because he cannot bear to feel that heartbreak in Jaskier’s scent. He knows that someday they will have to go back to that conversation.

But right now, he doubts that either of them is ready.

And Jaskier seems to feel it, too.

“Alright,” he says, rolling his eyes but allowing Geralt to find his way to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them though Jaskier had had it on for barely a few minutes. “But only the best ones.”

***

Ever since he could remember, Geralt had always been more of a Belleteyn man himself.

Midinváerne was fun, he couldn’t deny that, but he preferred the warmth of summer and the bonfires that lit up the fields, the scent of woodsmoke mixing in with alcohol and heady lust.

Not that social gatherings were his thing, but Belleteyn had always held a special kind of appeal to it, one that Geralt couldn’t resist.

And when it came to Yule, his only association with it were those nights that he and his brothers would spend drinking in the main hall of Kaer Morhen, losing to each other at Gwent and having to answer the stupidest questions imaginable.

It was fun, of course, but lacked that special kind of gravity.

And yet, he knew it would be very different this year.

Jaskier was practically glowing with anticipation, his magic twirling around his fingers in shifting shades of light, and Geralt didn’t need to ask to know that on the night of Midinváerne it will grow stronger.

He wondered, even, if he’ll be able to touch him at all without burning himself on that power.

It was an exciting thought, no matter how he looked at it.

Jaskier had shown him lots of things that his magic is capable of, including the countless portals throughout the mansion meant for the dogs - after half a year, Geralt’s questions about how Asra and Lucio seem to always be somewhere nearby and then disappear completely was finally answered - and Geralt found himself eager to see more.

He still couldn’t quite find the right way to ask Jaskier whether or not he understands that magic that powerful has to start with his blood and not the mark on his back, and Midinváerne seemed like the perfect opportunity to do just that, so Geralt, for his own reasons, was anticipation it, too.

And there was one more thing.

Both summer and winter solstice were very special when it came to just about everything that had Chaos laced through it.

There was one more thing he wanted to try when it came to breaking the curse, and on the night of Midinváerne, their chances were at their highest.

All that was left was asking Jaskier whether or not he wanted to take that chance.

***

“Couldn’t you have just made them instead of freezing your fingers off outside?”

Jaskier looks up at him from where he’s sitting by the fireplace, keeping himself warm, his knees pulled up to his chest, and sticks out his tongue.

It’s already dark behind the windows, the longest night of the year having taken its toll, and he just came back from the gardens that he’d sneaked out into to find branches of mistletoe that he was now weaving together into a wreath to tell his fortune upon later in the night.

The tradition was old as time but Geralt had never really seen it done, most of his winters spent up in Kaer Morhen, where everyone preferred drinking to fortune-telling.

But Jaskier seemed to know what he was doing, and his magic was growing stronger the closer to midnight they got, so when he’d suggested that he make a wreath for Geralt, as well, the witcher couldn’t find a reason to refuse.

“In Toussaint, women give mistletoe wreaths to those they wish to kiss at midnight,” he points out, surprising even himself.    

Jaskier’s eyebrows jump up, blue eyes widening slightly.

“Well, Witcher, if you’re worried about me choosing someone else to kiss tonight, then, of course, I’ll give you your wreath once I finish it,” he grins. “Though I had slightly more… ambitious plans on you.”

Geralt holds back from rolling his eyes and comes closer, getting down onto the soft hide in front of the fireplace, as well. Before Jaskier can protest, he pulls him into his arms, until the bard’s back is pressed to his chest, and noses at his neck, breathing in the familiar scent before placing a kiss right under the sharp of his jaw.

Jaskier squeals at the rough scrape of the witcher’s stubble against his tender skin, but doesn’t protest, concentrated on the task at hand.

They fall into a comfortable silence, just being in each other's presence enough right now, and the warmth that spreads through Geralt’s chest is still something that he’s getting used to.

The comfort that Jaskier gives him, the feeling of security and unconditional acceptance. The love that Geralt feels from him.  

Despite it now having been a month since Geralt learned that his feelings were reciprocated, it was all still very new to him.

Almost overwhelming sometimes.

Unable to help himself, Geralt pulls the bard closer, tucking his face into the curve of his shoulder, and though he’s expecting Jaskier to protest and tell him that he’s distracting him from his work, instead, he feels him turn around in his arms, until they’re facing each other, and before Geralt can even open his eyes, Jaskier pulls him into a kiss, cupping his face with both hands.

His lips are sweet with the lemon liqueur they’ve both been slowly making their way through for the last three hours, and the magic on his fingertips sends sparks down Geralt’s spine.

And maybe it’s that, maybe it’s something else, but for the first time, Geralt truly realises that this is what he wants for the rest of his life.

This love, this sweetness.

This warmth that spills through his chest and makes his heart beat faster.

He breaks away from the bard’s lips when there is no more air in his lungs, but doesn’t open his eyes, resting his forehead against Jaskier’s.

“Your magic is growing stronger,” he murmurs, leaning into the touch when Jaskier brushes his thumb over his cheekbone.

Jaskier hums an affirmative.

“It is,” he says. “I don’t necessarily have any plans on it but the feeling is rather pleasant. Like I could change the entire world if I wanted to.”

The words stir something in Geralt’s chest, and he reaches up to cover Jaskier’s hands with his own, bringing them down to his lips.

“There’s something else that we can try to break the curse,” he says softly. “Tonight, when your powers are at their strongest.”

He hates to remind Jaskier of it now, on the day he’d been waiting for, but he has to try. If it comes to that, he will stay with him for years - forever, if he needs to - but there is nothing he wants more than to free the bard of these bounds.

To his surprise, Jaskier says:

“No.”

Geralt draws back to look at him, unsure if he understood him correctly.

“No?”

Jaskier shakes his head, his chest rising and then falling on a deep breath.

“I’m tired, Geralt,” he says. “I'm tired of the curse, but I’m also tired of constantly trying to break it. I don’t want to think about that, not tonight. Tonight it’s just you and me, alright?”

He leans in closer again, and catches Geralt’s lips with his own in a comforting, reassuring kiss.

“We can spend the night playing stupid games and losing to each other, we can find a use to at least one of the countless rooms I have in this house, or we can just get drunk and spend the entire night here, curled up together in front of the fire. Anything you want. But not another attempt to break the curse.”

Geralt’s first instinct is to try one more time, tell Jaskier that they shouldn’t miss their chance, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the knowledge that this isn’t his choice to make.

It’s Jaskier who’s tied to the mansion, and if he says that he doesn’t want to think about it tonight, Geralt doesn’t have the right to question that.

“Alright,” he nods, resting their foreheads together again. “Anything you want, my love.”

Jaskier smiles, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck, and pulls him closer, leaning back until the witcher loses balance, and they both fall onto the hide, barely avoiding the unfinished wreaths.

“Gods, Jask, I’m twice your weight,” Geralt tries, weakly.

It’s very hard to protest when he’s got Jaskier pinned to the floor under him, warm and familiar.

“That doesn’t seem to bother you when you press me to the bed,” Jaskier teases, his eyes sparkling as he runs his hands through Geralt’s loose hair. “And I’m not as fragile as I look. Just stay as you are.”

Saying no to that doesn’t seem like a possibility, so Geralt complies without any further resistance, allowing himself to relax and catching Jaskier’s lips in a warm kiss before tucking his face into the curve of his shoulder once more.

They stay like that for some time, Jaskier running his hands through the witcher’s hair and murmuring something about how soft it is, and everything else fades into the backdrop of Geralt’s mind, forgotten.

***

Somehow, the alcohol takes its effect on Geralt much sooner than he’d expected.

When there’s only an hour or so before midnight left, his head is already spinning pleasantly, the taste of the liquor on his lips only made sweeter by the kisses he keeps stealing from Jaskier.

All the servants are long dismissed, and they’re alone in the mansion save only for Asra and Lucio, who are sleeping peacefully in one of the chairs, tired from running around in the gardens and uninterested in any sort of celebrations by now.

At some point during the night, Geralt had somehow convinced Jaskier to get the lute he’d seen in their bedroom and play something, because previously he’d only heard him recite poems, not ballads.

Jaskier was just a little shy at first, hiding his eyes and saying that he hasn’t performed for anyone since the Academy, but as soon as he touched the strings, all that shyness was gone.

He switched between his own songs and the ones that are known all across the Continent, his voice flowing like a birdsong, deft fingers moving over the strings with practised ease, and Geralt, looking at him from his place by the fire, realised then, with both excitement and slight horror, that he will never love anyone as much as he loves him.

And, well, it’s common knowledge that love makes people do things they wouldn’t have had the courage for otherwise.

“Come with me,” Geralt says, getting up when the last notes of a well-known ballad about a knight and a witch fade into the air and Jaskier puts his lute aside, rubbing at his fingertips.

He takes Geralt’s hand without questions, allowing him to pull him up onto his feet, and follows the witcher when he leads him through the endless hallways and rooms, all the way onto the third floor and into the far end of the west wing.

“If you want to make use of the bed that you used to sleep in, we’re going the wrong way,” he points out, a little unsteady on his feet from the alcohol.

Geralt rolls his eyes, holding onto the bard’s hand tighter.

The mansion is a labyrinth, and he still barely knows his way around, but his memory is good enough to allow him to find the room he’s looking for on the first try.

The large double doors are what give it away.

Geralt pushes them open, and he doesn’t even have to say anything before Jaskier snaps his fingers and the vast ballroom lights up with hundreds of candles all along the walls.

It’s decorated in the same manner and the rest of the mansion, golds and deep reds dominating the colour scheme, and just as elegant.

Above a large fireplace, hangs a portrait of a woman that Geralt instantly recognises as Jaskier’s mother. Those bottomless cornflower-blue eyes are very hard to miss.

He lets go of Jaskier’s hand and bows deeply, one hand on his abdomen and the other one behind his back.

“Do me an honour of a dance, my Lord?” he says, lifting his gaze to meet Jaskier’s and not trying hard enough to hide his grin.

He offers Jaskier a hand, and the bard takes it with a charming smile, the voluminous slit sleeve of his chemise brushing over Geralt’s skin.

There’s something that he used for his morning bath that has his skin shimmer like gold in the warm light of the candles, and Geralt leans down to press a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s knuckles before pulling him closer.

At another snap of the bard’s fingers, the ballroom fills with music.

“Just one more thing,” he murmurs, running his hand through Geralt’s hair, his magic weaving golden vines of laurel into it, and then, before Geralt can even suggest it, Jaskier’s own hair is adorned with a delicate, intricate crown.

Geralt bites his lip, fighting the urge to pull him into a kiss, and instead takes a step back, leading Jaskier in a dance that he’d learned a very long time ago, in Kaer Morhen.

It’s not perfect and certainly way below anything that would be allowed at an actual court but right now, it’s just the two of them, and Jaskier happily lets Geralt lead, keeping the required distance between them only to close in a second later, teasing and slipping out of touch just before Geralt can do anything about it.

His magic grows stronger, almost burning the witcher at every touch, but he still chases it, even as his medallion hums against his chest.

It’s strange, being alone in a ballroom that could easily fit an entire court, but with Jaskier, it doesn’t really matter.

As long as the music plays, flowing from somewhere above them, they dance, the alcohol making them both light on their feet.

Jaskier is a much better dance than Geralt, his every move practised and effortlessly elegant, and every time they break apart, Geralt can’t help but admire him, the silk of Jaskier’s clothes moving around him like waves, the gold of the crown shining in the flickering light of the countless candles.

Just once, Geralt manages to catch him in time to steal a long, sweet kiss from his lips, and Jaskier doesn’t even try to protest, kissing him back with just as much feeling behind it.

Keeping the time in mind proves a little more difficult than Geralt had expected, and so it’s only a few minutes until midnight that Jaskier suddenly gasps and stops, clasping his hand over Geralt’s to run out of the ballroom and back to the downstairs library, waking the dogs with the sudden commotion.

Geralt follows him, not entirely understanding what they’re doing until they’re back in front of the fireplace and there is a mistletoe wreath being placed on his head.

“Now you can rest assured, my love,” Jaskier smiles, still a little out of breath. “It’s only you that I wish to kiss.”

And before Geralt can answer, the bard already throws his arms around his neck and pulls him into a kiss, so sweet that Geralt’s knees go weak.

He kisses back, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist, holding him closer, and at that moment, with the dogs jumping around them to get attention, the liquor still sweet on his tongue, and Jaskier’s familiar warmth next to him, he feels happy.

His chest feels tight with it, and that sends a shiver down his spine.

He’d never really thought whether or not he’s truly happy, too used to his life being limited down to the endless stretch of the Path, the monsters and the winters at Kaer Morhen.

And he enjoyed all of that, despite the pain, the blood, the prejudice and contempt from people who didn’t even know him. He couldn’t picture himself as anyone other than a witcher, and even being underpaid at just about every job he’d take, he knew that what he was doing needed to be done.

And to make up for three seasons on the Path, there was Kaer Morhen.

Three long winter months spent in a keep he’d been calling home since he was a child, with his brothers and Vesemir. Drinks, games, stupid stories, horse races across the slopes of the Blue Mountains, the constant fear to fall and break your neck only adding to the adrenaline rush.

No, Geralt wasn’t unhappy.  

There was just something lacking.

A missing piece somewhere deep in his chest that kept letting the cold draft in, a draft that he’d grown accustomed but not used to.

A draft that was no longer there, the space left by the missing piece now filled with Jaskier’s unconditional, absolute love.  

Geralt makes an effort over himself, breaking away from Jaskier’s lips when there is no more air left in his lungs, but doesn’t let the bard go, still holding him close as he whispers:

“You’re meant to make a wish at midnight. What do you wish for?”

Jaskier closes his eyes, the smile never leaving his lips, and Geralt isn't sure if the cracking he’s hearing is the fire or Jaskier’s magic, charging the air around them.

“I only have one wish,” Jaskier says, his eyes impossibly blue as he opens them to look at Geralt. “You.”

This time it’s not the alcohol that makes Geralt’s knees weak.

“I’m yours,” he whispers.

Jaskier’s smile somehow grows even brighter, his magic growing so tangible that Geralt feels lightheaded with it, and he pulls the witcher into another kiss, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest.

***

It’s much later in the night that they finally find their way back to their bedroom.

Asra and Lucio pay them absolutely no mind, not even waking up when they finally leave the library, and with the bed left completely for their own, there’s more than enough space for Geralt and Jaskier to fall onto, tired after a long night.

The clothes that Jaskier had chosen for both of them are all intricate laces and buttons, and undoing them all would’ve taken the rest of the night had Jaskier not taken pity on Geralt and dealt with that with a snap of his fingers.

“Convenient,” Geralt hums, his head still a little unsteady from the alcohol. “You should do that more often when I’m trying to undress you.”

Jaskier laughs, drunk and happy, and makes himself comfortable on the pillows, all of his clothes now somewhere on the floor.

The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the full moon outside, and the silver glow that it casts on Jaskier’s skin makes him look like his body’s been cut out of marble, every line flawless, filigree.  

Geralt can’t take his eyes off him.

Jaskier notices him looking, and regards the witcher from under his lashes, the crown still shining in his chestnut hair. He bites his lip, never breaking the eye contact as he runs a hand down his chest and spreads his knees in a teasing, inviting gesture.  

Of course, that’s not something that Geralt can turn down.

He pulls off the rest of his clothes, the night air pleasantly cold against his skin, and slips right into Jaskier’s waiting arms, their bodies fitting together easily.

They’re both too tired to take it any further, and they’ve already had their fill in the morning, but just laying together, skin to skin, is a pleasure of its own.

“Thank you for the wonderful day, Witcher,” Jaskier murmurs, pressing a kiss to Geralt’s temple.

Geralt hums, pleased and content, and noses at Jaskier’s neck in return.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he assures. “My Lord.”

Jaskier gives him a little pleased rumble, almost a purr from somewhere deep in his chest, and wraps his arms around the witcher’s back tighter, tangling their legs together.

“Keep calling me that, and I just might act upon it,” he draws out, and Geralt can’t help the thrill that runs through his body at that.

He knows it’s a promise as much as it is a threat, as well as he knows that both of them are filled with nothing but pleasure.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he grins.

They fall asleep quickly, safe and warm in each other’s arms, and it’s when the rising sun paints the room with reds and golds that Geralt wakes, his body catching up with all the liquor and demanding some cold water.

He carefully untangles himself from Jaskier, and the bard, having lost his warmth, immediately turns to his side, pulling one of the blankets closer to his chest.

Geralt reaches the pitcher on the bedside table, and, having failed to find a cup, drinks right out of it, the cold water nothing less of a bliss.

He lets his gaze linger on Jaskier’s sleeping form, on his tousled hair, the lines of his shoulders and back, the fading marks scattered over them, and he’s already about to close his eyes and go back to sleep, when it hits him.

“Jask,” he calls, reaching out to touch the bard on the shoulder, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he feels like it’s going to break through the bones. “Jask, wake up.”

“Hmm?” he draws out, barely awake as he turns to look at Geralt. “Was is it, my love?”

Geralt can feel his throat go suddenly dry, and he has to take in a slow breath before he says:

“Your mark is gone.”

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier big bang #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the drug the dark the light the flame #my writing #calton writes