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gyusbambi · 3 years

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humph; han seojun (pt 3)

click here for humph masterlist!

part 1, part 2, part 4

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: humph! is a story inspired by pentagon’s “humph! / 접근금지”. originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4.3k

after what seems like forever, the bus finally arrives at the location. the rest of the bus ride went alright, except that suho kept turning around in his seat, checking if you’re doing well. because of that you simply decided to text him that everything was fine: seojun wasn’t even talking to you. on the contrary, he acted quieter than usual, looking out of the window the whole time.

speaking of: how lucky seojun felt that you didn’t seem to notice the truth behind his behavior. after all he’s a person incredibly difficult to read. one moment he’s mean only to remain silent in the other. even his friend with keen sense of perception, chorong, struggles to detect the real meaning of the boy’s actions. however, he’s definitely not about to give up, after all he spent the whole night planing the ultimate reconciliation.

han seojun himself, has no clue how to act. yet, one matter is clear: he wants to make up with you. the whole time he suppressed that he misses being near you, constantly trying to fight back the thought of wanting you. well aware that it’s easier said than done, he thinks of a way to overcome his stubbornness. in the first step, he needs to distance himself a little, though the concept of that seems more difficult than it sounds.

after everyone gets settled into their hotel rooms, it’s game time. outdoors you stand next to your roommates sua and soojin, as your teacher explains the simple rules for the tug of war game. your teacher’s suggestion of separating the teams classwise gets absolutely rejected by chorong, who claims that the game wouldn’t be exciting that way. therefore, your teacher hands the rope to chorong himself, stating that he should choose his opponent and divide into two groups.

at the sight of your friend grinning from ear to ear, you narrow your eyes in suspicion. is it that big of a deal from him?

but you’re even more surprised when he chooses his closest friend han seojun as his opponent to which the latter doesn’t react well.

“woah, you betrayer.” seojun tilts his head with a frown on his face before brushing his hair away from his forehead,

“game on.”

“okay, i’m the first one to choose and i choose y/n!” enthusiastically chorong pulls you to his side a little too fast, causing you to bump shoulders with him.

something seems off today.

two equal groups finally get created, a line separating them from each other. kim chorong and han seojun face each other, positioning themselves in the very front. purposely, you stand near the back, gripping the rope tightly with your hands since you don’t feel that strong.

right when the game is about to start, chorong suddenly groans in pain while holding his stomach,

“i don’t feel so good. someone else should take my position.”

“oh, well then suho should-”, you raise your hand to suggest who should replace chorong but you get interrupted by chorong immediately,

“y/n, thank you so much for volunteering. my strongest player!”

everyone watches you with confused eyes, probably thinking the same thing that’s running through your head. strongest player?

overwhelmed, your helpless eyes search for suho’s and it doesn’t take him long to react,

“if you’re not comfortable i could-”

“y/n, come on! what’s taking you so long?” sua gently grabs your shoulders from behind to push you to the front while laughing nervously.

as stupid as it sounds, once again you’re not able to hear her whispering something certain to your group members, while you are too busy observing the boy on the other side of the drawn line.

the whole team is lead to confusion when your friend tells them to let the rope go on the count of three.

on the sign of your teacher, the two groups start pulling the rope to their direction, trying to get the other members to their side. certainly, it’s difficult and requires a lot of strength. while tugging the rope with force, you look up to see han seojun doing the same thing, completely focused on the game.

“three.”

his veins are visible on his arms.

“two.”

his hair slightly covers a part of his forehead.

“one!”

all of the sudden everyone in your team, except for you, lets go off the rope, causing you to lose balance and stumble forwards.

some of the opponents fall down while the others are able to find balance in the last second.

letting out a small yelp, you find yourself falling into han seojun’s arms. however, when you grab onto his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling, he quickly reacher for your waist. before he knows it, both of you fall on the ground.

han seojun lays beneath you.

eyes tightly closed, your head hits his chest. with embarrassment you look up, to find him doing the same. the boy looks more than just shocked. his grip is still steady on your waist, hair messy, gaze on you.

are you starting to find him attractive?! (a/n: good morning, y/n)

and as you eventually notice the rosiness on his almost pale face, you cough more than just once.

“you just fell for me.”

it seems like it’s the last straw for you, when these words leave han seojun’s mouth with teasing tone.

now your stupid heart rate is speeding up again and you are sure that it’s able to explode any moment. not to mention, the boy beneath you can possibly hear it due to the extreme closeness.

therefore, you’re happy to come to your senses and stand up swiftly. after seconds han seojun does the same, watching you brush the dirt off your jeans.

he smiles at the sight of you and for once decides to ignore kim chorong grining like a cheshire's cat.

mission complete.

in the next game you have to build groups with four members and stand on a piece of newspaper. the group loses the moment one of their members step out of the paper.

lee suho instantly tugs at your sweater, asking if you want to be in a group with him. a smile forms on your lips and you nod to his request with joy. sooner than think, soojin approaches the both of you, questioning if she could join you. chuckling you playfully hit her shoulder to show that obviously she could,

“of course! now we only need one more person. how about sua?”

“i think sua wants to stick to her boyfriend.” soojin giggles while observing the couple clutching to each other.

as all three of you look around for a last person to join you, kim chorong pushes han seojun to your direction forcefully, causing his back to hit your own. with a look of puzzlement you turn around.

“sorry, seojun! we’re already four people. you gotta join their group.”,

kim chorong whines in a false upset tone before focusing back to his own group. once again, you fail to notice the grin on his face.

before it can get awkward between the four of you, you indicate them to step on the piece of paper. you wish you could overlook suho and seojun exchanging annoyed looks. it seems like both of them could start a fight any moment. thankfully soojin steps forward, standing between you and suho.

soon the host starts the game. everyone holds each other closely, your own arm around seojun’s back. you don’t fail to notice a smile appearing on soojin’s face when suho wraps an arm around her, holding her tightly. amused, you try to hold in your laughter but soon freeze on spot when seojun swiftly pulls you closer to his body before you can lose your balance and fall backwards. your own grip on his jacket tightens. both of you look at each other at the same time, taken aback by the sudden closeness. seojun coughs, a faint tint appearing on his ears, and looks away a little too quickly. meanwhile suho looks like he’s about to explode.

in the next round you intentionally squeeze yourself between the two boys, so that they don’t have the chance to throw fists at each other.

“why does suho ruin my plan!”

further away from you, chorong complains to sua and taehoon. the latter sighs with disappointment while shaking his head,

“i don’t know.”

“it’s almost like he likes y/n.” chorong scoffs sarcastially, eyes focused on lee suho.

but soon shock hits all three of them. chorong and taehoon avert their gazes from suho to look into each other’s eyes in horror,

“oh, no.”

the last day at the countryside is colder than usual and remains extremely silent, only sounds of crickets can be heard. that being so you choose to stay in the hotel room, watching tv dressed in jeans and a cozy hoodie. fully prepared for bed, you even removed your contact lenses and wear you specs, hair up in a messy ponytail.

however, the unexpected sight of your two roommates dressed up in their winter coats and combat boots causes you to sit up with surprise written in your face. both sua and soojin do the same when they spot you sitting on the couch lazily. after a short silence with the sound of the tv playing in the background, you finally break the awkward quietness,

“are you two going somewhere?”

“why are you still in those?”

instead of answering your question, sua looks you up and down with a confused expression. reacting to her statement, you push your glasses up your nose, eyes unable to meet hers,

“i thought we were staying in.”

“of course not! we should have fun on our last night.”, soojin chuckles while sitting down next to you, taking your hand in hers.

after nodding understandingly, you return soojin’s smile,

“that’s right. have fun, guys! i think i should stay in.”

before your friend sitting next to has the chance to reply to your decision, sua throws your jacket on your face softly,

“no way! you’re coming with us, y/n.”

removing the piece of clothing from your face, you’re met with sua staring at you with troubled eyes. resigned, you sigh before putting on your jacket which causes both of your friends to cheer. yet, this time you notice sua’s body losing its stiff posture while letting out a huge breath.

meanwhile han seojun walks outside with his hands in his pockets, feeling the cold air on his face. a shiver goes down his spine as he passes several students, who seem to enjoy the last night outside at this terrible weather. in fact, the young boy would rather stay in his hotel room if it wasn’t for his stubborn friends, who basically force him to attend the talent show. although, he thinks their several excuses are nothing but ridiculous (”it’s the last night”, “you should sing”, “sneak around in the woods” etc.) he still leaves his room at the mention of you. kim chorong never misses the chance of bringing you up in tangled situations, well aware of seojun’s reaction.

the moment they arrive at the talent show, which takes place near the forest, han seojun instantly spots you a few steps away from his friend group. completely uninterested you stand next to your friends, impatiently tugging at sua’s coat. at this sight of you, dull eyes visible under your specs, a few loose strands of hair falling down from your ponytail, he can’t help but smile at your disinterest. a few seconds ago he was feeling the same way but this changed thanks to your appearance.

minutes pass as everyone waits for the host to appear on the stage. students already found their seats on the floor, absorbed in their own conversations. somehow, chorong finds a way to sit close to you with the help of sua. the boy sits between you and han seojun with relief. moreover, he focuses on being as far away from lee suho as possible. fulfilling his plan, soojin luckily approached suho first, causing the cupid team to achieve their goal.

finally the host makes an appearance on the stage and lists the number of performances before the first group comes into view. seven girls from your grade, dressed in the same shirts and skirts, start dancing to a girl group song. at the sound of nonstop by oh my girl your disinterest disappears suddenly, replaced with excitement instead. to be honest, you really enjoyed this song, although it isn’t really your type.

while the girls are performing, chorong nudges seojun’s side with his elbow next to him, who seems rather bored.

“did you know this song is about someone who crushes on their best friend but is unable to confess?”

chorong’s sudden statement catches seojun’s attention and he turns his head to his friend next to him with a confused face,

“so what?”

“ah, i’m just saying.”, his friend shrugs with a playful pout before focusing back on the performing group.

what’s wrong with him?

before seojun can further question chorong’s odd behavior, his eyes unintentionally land on yours.

“saljjak seollesso nan!” (my heart fluttered a little)

viewing you bopping your head to the song happily causes seojun’s expressions to soften and without knowing his eyes linger on you with admiration.

the talent show ends after the last performance. unfortunately the air is even colder now causing many students to rush back to the hotel with almost freezing bodies. unquestionably, you start walking the same way as them, expecting your friends to follow you only to get pulled back.

sua loosens her grip on your jacket when you turn around to face her,

“how about we sneak around the forest, huh? what do you say?”

“forest?”

“apparently it’s haunted. isn’t that crazy?”,

she noticeably grins at you with excitement.

“yeah, that’s crazy.”, uneasily you mumble since you have bad memories with forests.

“come on, y/n! you love adventure.”

eventually you give in and follow sua and taehoon into the woods, still concerned about your decision.

seojun doesn’t seem surprised when his friends appear in front of him as he’s about to return to the hotel.

“let’s go ghost haunting!”

“ghost haunting?” he repeats chorong’s words with a questioning voice,

“forget it. i’m going to sleep.”

“why? are you scared?”

at the teasing tone seojun rapidly reacts,

“scared? me? what do you take me for!”

without having to try harder, the friend group follows seojun into the forest.

by some way the woods correspond exactly to your memories from your middle school time. you observe dark tree trunks around you as the moon shines through a lattice of leaves. with every step the undergrowth cracks and you hear the sound of wind slipping through the leaves. breathing in the cold air, you smell the scent of rich earth.

it’s almost like you’re experiencing that certain traumatic moment once again but luckily you aren’t alone.

to the sound of a flutter of wings, sua nervously clutches on taehoon’s coat while holding your wrist in the other hand. abruptly, her boyfriend stops in his track with wide eyes, causing both of you two stumble forward.

“w-what?”

“did you guys see that?” taehoon speaks without averting his gaze from the trees standing a little further away.

sua gulps, “see what? is there something?”

her voice has gotten quieter and more nervous as she follows her boyfriend’s gaze,

“this was supposed to be a mission and now we’re going to die.”

“what mission are you talking about?”

hearing your question, taehoon rapidly turns around to face you.

“nothing.”, he nudges sua with warning eyes before stepping forward,

“it’s probably nothing. do you guys really believe in ghosts?”

although he sounds quite confident, his steps are still cautious and the nervousness on his face is impossible to overlook. with each step, all of you feel your hearts pounding against your chests.

“kim chorong, where the hell are you?” sua mumbles under her breath impatiently, yet so quietly that you can’t understand a single word.

your skin shivers from the cold air and you feel your muscles tightening. trying not to shake, you grip on your friends clothing, waiting for taehoon to check what’s behind that mysterious tree.

and for one second all three of you stand still in complete silence when suddenly a tall dark creature stands not so far away from you. all of you scream in fear at the same time and before you know it you all sprint off to the opposite direction.

your legs move in extreme speed as your heart races in your rib cage. sua and taehoon are in front of you, running even faster with every second passing. frightened, your friend checks behind her and sighs in relief when she sees that you’re still with them.

from there, you run without thinking about stopping. after what seems like minutes your legs give in after you suddenly trip over a bumpy root. a small gasp escapes your mouth the moment you fall down on the slippery earth, wet and dewy leaves sticking on your palms.

without wanting to waste any time, you swiftly look up in hope to see your friends but unfortunately you’re only met with clumps of bushes, tall trees and barely visible black trails snaking through the undergrowth.

standing up, you brush the dirt off your hands and knees. hopelessly, you look around one more time to find someone but unluckily, you’re all alone in the haunted woods. the fact that it’s utterly dark makes everything worse and you try your best to suppress some terrifying memories.

although you’re shocked and frightened, you try your best to remain calm. it’s only a matter of time until you eventually find a way out of this stupid forest and return to your hotel. what could possibly happen to you? the woods are probably safe anyway, considering that the whole story about the ghosts is only a legend.

taking a deep breath, you look up to see stars in glimpses through tree breaks. it isn’t completely dark. seojun would always tell you to look at the moon and the stars when you’re afraid of the dark.

it seems like the track is endless as you walk further into the woods, fog covering your sight slightly. with your arms wrapped around yourself to keep your body warm you continue following the path. the further you go, the more you start to worry about where to go. there is nowhere to go. indeed, you are lost in the middle of the dark woods with nothing but yourself.

a look of concern crosses your face when your knees feel weak, causing you to stop in your tracks. carefully, you approach a random tree next to you and sit down completely exhausted. slowly, you were struggling to breathe normally. nothing but your heavy breathing and the sound of branches moving in the wind could be heard.

fidgeting with your fingers, red from the intense coldness, you try to come up with a way. yet, your head is only filled with memories from the time you were lost in the forest.

you remember every single detail from that night. how you left seojun stubbornly, your body shivering from the cold, dark shadows surrounding you, leaves crunching under your feet and tears streaming down your eyes.

these horrible memories cause you to feel uneasier than you already are and you feel your eyes tearing up.

you’re scared. nothing but fear takes over your shaking body. in this huge forest you are lost and completely alone. wrapping your arms around your knees, you cry quietly, heart beating faster than it should. time passes and you lose track of time while tears run down your cheeks.

out of the blue, a voice echoes through the forest with a worried tone to it. from all the panic and fear, you don’t bother looking up. soon the familiar sounds are easier to hear, pointing out that the person is near to you.

“yah, kim chorong! where are you guys?”

han seojun?

“if you guys don’t come out now i’m leaving without-”

when you’re sure that it’s han seojun’s voice, you look up to find him standing only a few inches away from where you’re sitting.

“y/n?”

han seojun’s shocked eyes find yours in a matter of seconds. the young boy stands there in his leather jacket with worry written all over his face. it hurts him so much to see you in this state and all he wants to do is to hug you.

it doesn’t take him long to squat down in front of you. carefully, he caresses your almost freezing face with his warm hands after brushing your hair out of your face. sadness crosses over his face when he wipes the tears off your cheeks. seojun’s heart aches when you look into his eyes with a mix of fear and relief, teary from crying the whole time.

“are you hurt? what happened to you?”,

he asks with a low tone, eyes never leaving yours.

at this, you squinch your eyes shut, only crying harder than you were,

“i got lost here. all alone.”

usually, you would feel embarrassed to cry or say something like that, especially in front of han seojun. but right now, you don’t care at all. on the contrary, you feel so happy that seojun found you, once again.

eyebrows drawing together, he lifts your chin up to take a better look at you,

“look at me.”

attempting to stop yourself from crying, you look into his eyes.

“it’s over now, y/n.”

“seojun-ah-” you trail off when you notice your voice shaking slightly, still taken aback by the whole situation.

“you’re not alone anymore. i’m with you.”, seojun wipes the last tears away from your face before pulling you in for a tight hug, strong arms wrapping around your figure. you feel relieved when he rubs your back comfortingly.

taking in a breath, you wrap your arms around his body, hugging him even tighter. face resting on his chest, you’re eventually able to calm down as he hums caring words into your hair with soothing voice.

fortunately, both of you find a way out of the woods. the whole time seojun held your hand tightly in his to make you feel safe. silence took over both of you, no single word leaving your mouths. now and then his thumb rubbed the back of your hand which helped you calm down.

but it definitely didn’t help your poor heart. instead of slowing down, it only beat faster.

isn’t it strange how seojun is the one who found you again, when you were lost in the woods? what’s even stranger is the fact that you feel differently near him. needless to say, you enjoy finding yourself in his arms. you also liked falling asleep on him in the bus ride.

it couldn’t be...

eventually you arrive at the hotel. eyes darting around your surroundings, you cough shyly,

“we should uh, we should go in now. again, thank you, seojunnie.”

seojunnie?

instantly your eyes widen in horror at the fact that you decided to call him by the nickname you gave him when you were younger. embarrassed, you’re unable to make eye contact and rub your neck before letting go off his hand after mumbling a good night under your breath.

however, before you have the chance to leave, seojun reaches for your wrist and pulls you back lightly. the boy tries to hide his pleasant smile and stares at you. surprised, you wait for him to speak.

“it may be a little too late. it also be not the right time or place to say this. but i just have to tell you that i’m sorry.”

sorry?

seojun notices the frown on your face and continues after taking a deep breath,

“i’m sorry for everything. i’m sorry for treating you nothing like a friend, i’m sorry for annoying you all the time, i’m sorry that i stole your audition and i’m so sorry for telling suho to stay away from you.”

the boy talks nervously, a look of guilt appearing on his face.

“it’s my fault that our friendship ended like that and i should have never done those things. i-i don’t know why i went that far and didn’t question your feelings but... but i just want you to know that i sincerely feel sorry. i’m sorry, y/n.”

utterly absorbed in his speech, you don’t notice him taking a bracelet made out of flowers until he wraps it around your wrist carefully. the feeling of his fingers brushing over your wrist causes butterflies to appear in your stomach.

“i hope you forgive me.”

after putting the bracelet on your wrist, seojun watches you staring at it with a look of surprise. the poor boy feels nothing but nervous standing in front of you, waiting for your reaction. after all, he’s content that he’s finally able to apologize, which took him long enough.

“i do. it’s okay, seojun.”

when you smile at him with happiness written in your eyes, he can’t believe his ears. how can you forgive him so easily? the young boy stands there silently in shock.

“seojun-ah?”

“you forgive me? really?”

hearing his excited tone, you nod while playing with the bracelet, eyes not leaving his,

“i’m happy we’re friends again, seojun.”

abruptly, he pulls you in for another hug, spinning you around,

“i missed you.” he mutters under his breath while you chuckle with amusement,

“i missed you too! but i think i’m gonna fall.”

after putting you down, seojun grins at you with loving eyes, happier than ever.

will he be able to overcome his feelings this time? needless to say, he likes you more than just a friend. but for now, he just wants to be near you again.

“race you to the rooms, zombie.”,

after pinching your cheeks, seojun sprints away. soon you follow him, laughing at the nickname,

“hey! you didn’t count!”

to be continued...

713 notes · View notes

likeshipsonthesea · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

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neozoid · 3 years

Text

Peril comes out

Peril's wingtips touched Clay's as they silently soared through the soft gray rain.

Half an hour ago, she had asked him if he would take just one moment to fly with her. After everything that had happened, with Jade Mountain Academy under threat and those little rapscallions - Moon, Turtle, Kinkajou, Anemone, Qibli, and Winter - had all managed to save it. The past week... no, weeks? She had lost track of time. But they had been a blur - a blur of emotions, of frustration, of painful, deep searing guilt, Darkstalker's scroll looming in her mind, and of longing. She hadn't gotten to talk to Clay in so long, and she wasn't sure that at the end of it he'd still feel the same way about her that he did when she saved his life on the brightest night.

She turned to look at his face in the grayness. His expression was focused, concentrated, effortful.

He must still be in a lot of pain from that burn I gave him, Peril thought guiltily.

No! She shook her head. I kept him alive! If it wasn't for me he'd be dead! But that didn't make her feel any better.

She turned her gaze back down to the valleys below, vast and dotted in slate blue pine trees obscured by the falling droplets. They rolled harmlessly off Clay, but they sizzled when they hit her and dissolved into steam, making her look like a ghost in flight. The rocky outcroppings below resembled a sleeping dragon - as if the landscape itself, was, once again, put to rest after Darkstalker's second sleep.

"Peril," Clay spoke.

She whipped her head around to him. "Clay?"

"I'm... I'm starting to get a bit tired. Do you think we could stop somewhere down below? Maybe in a cave."

She quickly scanned the landscape below her, and saw an opening just a half mile away. "Yeah, I see something down there." She turned herself in the direction of the cave, and Clay followed her.

As they came in for a landing, Peril opened her wings wide, scattering a million fallen petals that intermingled with the rain. She softly touched down and carefully wrapped her wings around herself, and looked back at Clay, beckoning.

They both sat in the mouth of the cave, tails twined, watching the rain fall.

After what seemed like just a moment (but Peril knew full well was the better part of an hour,) Clay looked at her and asked "So... do you want to talk about Scarlet? Or Ruby? Or the stuff that happened while you were helping Moon and her friends save Jade Mountain?"

Peril stared at him, startled. "No! I mean, yes! I mean, just..." She sighed and looked at the roof of the cave. "I do, but like... hrmmmnnm." She closed her mouth shut and hummed.

"I get it. It can be hard to talk about stuff like this. It took us five forever to find the time to reflect and talk about our feelings after everything happened." He looked at the ceiling too and laughed. "Tsunami..." he muttered happily, and shortly his smile faded, his face a sad, wistful stare. "And Glory."

"I... hm." She fidgeted with her talons nervously. "I mean, I DO want to talk about Queen Scarlet and Ruby and-" she shook her head, "not-queen-Scarlet and- arghh, but it's so! CONFUSING! And it makes me mad to think about her manipulating like that. I trusted her, I really did and..."

Clay looked into the rain. "Like we trusted Morrowseer."

"I... I guess... yeah..." She looked into a corner awkwardly, but then curled her fist. "She shouldn't have betrayed us like that!" she roared.

"What about... Turtle?" Clay offered.

Peril's heart jumped in her stomach. She thought about Turtle, the only other dragon who had understood and trusted her, at least for a while. How protective she felt of him, how she wanted to follow him (and then not...) when they were trying to find Queen Scarlet. She thought about how he went underwater that night, making her rage about how she couldn't get to him, and how regretful she felt when she left him behind. He made her feel new things, just like Clay, new weird things.

"He was nice, I guess."

"How did he feel about being an animus? That must've been why he was able to sympathize with you. He knew if he revealed his animus secret he'd be thrust into the talons of others and the plans they wanted for him, and the only way to avoid that was deep, resolute isolation. He knows how that feels, Peril."

She fumed with fury for a second. Why could he hide! He got to choose that lousy isolation, but she didn't have a choice! Then she thought about his pain-stricken face when she found his healing rock, or his vengeful look as he bashed Chameleon upside the-

Chameleon.

She stared through the wall of water passing outside.

"Peril," Clay whispered.

"Oh. Right." She looked back at him.

"I know it's a lot of stuff to think about, but I can't keep carrying this conversation by myself." He softly chuckled with a warm, patient smile.

She blushed and fluttered her wings. "Right. Sorry, sorry. I was just- argh. Arghhh." She squirmed, as if caterpillars were crawling out of her skin.

Do I tell him?

"Turtle," she said resolutely, "taught me new things about myself. He reminded me of you, actually, Clay. You were my first exposure to life outside the Skywing Palace, and if I'm being honest I was kind of disappointed with the other dragonets at Jade Academy, how they treated me. I thought they'd be like you - I thought everyone in the outside world would be like that."

Clay winced.

"But Turtle! Turtle has his friends, and, surely, he's taught them! I keep getting letters from them. Which is like, weird, but the fact that someone's thinking about me!? While I'm not in front of them!?! Threatening to blaze their FACE or melt their SKIN off!?!?!" She yelled with a smile. "It's CRAAAAZY!"

Clay let out a hearty laugh, smiling as well.

"And Queen Ruby - she hated me, she hated me so bad Clay, she hated me just as much as the other Skywings did, if not more. If Scarlet's twisted love is what makes me ache, Ruby's absolute hatred of me tore me to the core. She looked at me and didn't want anybody, nobody in the whole world to do anything with me. Didn't want anyone to touch me, look at me, love me. She saw me as an irredeemable monster because of things I couldn't control." Peril's face contorted in despair.

"But Tourmaline... Someone who hadn't been fed Scarlet's lies... She saw right through that and she knew deep in my heart I COULD love." She scratched her snout awkwardly. "Well, at least I think I can. I'm not sure."

Clay lovingly jabbed her with her shoulder, and she giggled.

"But that pure strong spirit.... It's so." Her stomach dropped. "It's so scary what Chameleon did to her. Ripped her title, her memories, her life away just for some gold, some jewels." She spat on the ground.

"And Chameleon..."

Her stomach felt like a howling void, ready to collapse her from the inside out.

Do I tell him?

What if he hates me?

He should hate me.

I'm just as bad as him.

I'm just like my dad.

She turned to Clay terrified.

"I-" she sputtered. "I want to tell you something."

Clay looked at her face, concerned, but he motioned around. "Just you and me."

"I-" Peril's muscles clenched, her veins wrapped all around inside her, her bones stabbed inside her, shame made her heat blaze ever hotter, shame and guilt and pain and fear. She wanted to fall into the ground and have it swallow her up, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

"I'm not - I'm not actually a girl. I was hatched as a boy. I- I- Queen Scarlet, she said, she- she wanted me to be like her and- " Words started running over one another. "When you got here- I- I- I just felt like protecting you- and- but- I didn't want you to give up on me- Having a relationship- I-" She wanted to die. She wanted to disappear. "I'm a liar. I'm- I'm just like Chameleon," she howled. "I'm faking it. I- I wanted you but I- I just-" She let go, and wailed.

She looked back at him. "P-please don't-don't hate me," Peril choked through tears.

Clay softly gazed at her, leaned in closer, his wings wrapping around her, and kissed her on her snout.

Peril tears turned to confusion as she leaped with delight and her scales roared a bright blazing blue, the searing heat singing any leftover moss in the cavern. Clay reflexively pulled away, and patted his singed scales, laughing.

"Ow, geez, haha! Not like that!"

"I- I- Huh??"

Peril stepped back, but looked up and peered at his expression.

He really doesn't hate me, she thought wondrously.

As Clay turned looking over himself, his scales settled, and as the smoke rose, he looked at Peril.

"You know, someone else actually said something similar to me a little while ago." He sat back down.

Peril crooned. "R-Really?"

"Yeah. It was - it was Sunny."

Peril's jaw dropped open.

"She'd mentioned to me how she'd - during our time fulfilling the dragonet prophecy, she'd... we'd kind of ignore her most of the time. Not take her seriously. When we first planned on escaping the cavern, we didn't tell her.... she was so upset, afterwards. And in all of our discussions and planning afterwards, we'd step on her feelings. Actually, you remember the Nightwing invasion? Or, well, whatever came of the invasion before they all came crashing into Glory's rainforest under fealty."

"Yeah?" Peril looked at him.

"She was the one who came up with the idea of using the sleeping darts! But Glory was planning, and the others were shouting, so she had to ask me to use my voice and SHOUT it at everyone. The point is, she felt small. And overly protected - we didn't respect her whole, y'know, feelings as part of the team."

Peril flicked her tail, anxious.

"So... A couple nights ago, she talked to me in private, and she told me how she'd been feeling, and... she said she didn't really feel like it was right to be a Queen anymore. Given Thorn had safely secured the position, and was doing a good job... And with everything about the Eye of Onyx." Clay shifted on his talons. "She could trust it to pick a new leader. And the thing is, you know how... you've seen Deathbringer. You've seen Riptide. You've seen Starflight and maybe even Winter and Qibli. And maybe even Darkstalker, and Clearsight."

He sighed.

"Male dragons have a strong feeling to protect one person, the one person who brings them all the light in the world. Sunny said she didn't really feel like that - like one person had captured her whole heart in their hands. But she certainly didn't want to be the object of that kind of affection either. And Sunny didn't feel like Queen Coral or Thorn or Scarlet either, where she wanted to protect her own kin, her own future. She wants to protect everybody. And more than that, she doesn't want to be Sunny the small and weak and lovable, or Sunny the fierce and possessive and loyal. She just wants to be... Sunny, helping out wherever she can."

Peril stared at him intently, blue eyes locked in brown. "And?"

"Well, at first we tried just referring to Sunny by name to sort of, you know, respect her decision, but Starflight looked through the library and found in some old scrolls people using 'they' to refer to - did you even know there were dragons who decided to live past being a boy or a girl in the past, just like Sunny? I was surprised."

Peril's mind was racing. "They must be so happy," she said, eyes sparkling.

Outside, the rain had cleared, and Peril noticed out beyond the cave was a huge field of sunflowers, waving and dancing in the cool wind.

Suddenly her thoughts returned to her.

"But that thing you said earlier about protecting..." Peril looked down at her talons uncomfortably.

"Oh yeah - sorry, I... I didn't mean to. I just..." Clay caught himself. "I... I'm sorry Peril. I know your feelings about this must be really, really complicated. I..." Clay looked away again with a twinge of guilt on his face.

Peril stared at him, trembling.

"But Sunny taught me something I hadn't even thought about before." He chuckled. "I did think about it too, but after a long night of restless staring at the sky and thinking I figured I was perfectly happy being a guy. But that look on Sunny's face... they must have struggled as much with telling us as you did."

"I love you, Peril. I don't think you're anything like Chameleon at all. He only used his identities to trick and manipulate others, to get what he wanted for himself. But you've only ever been trying to find yourself - with Scarlet twisting your thoughts from birth, with how everyone's avoided you and you've been excluded from all the Skywings and, man, even the other dragon's games on Jade Mountain. It must hurt so much to be that isolated."

Peril stared into the field, unable to meet his gaze, tears running down her face.

"I just want you to know, Peril, I love you for who you chose to be. For all of your heroism, and your kindness. Your self-restraint. Chameleon had none of those qualities. But you do."

He stared her straight in the eye.

"What you chose is noble, and so so hard. Being true to yourself - more than Chameleon ever was, he couldn't handle being boring old him - is so, so hard. I know."

Peril thought about the Chameleon's enchanted necklace that removed her firescales. She shuddered deeply."

But you did it. And you shouldn't have to live with the shame, or the guilt anymore. You can have a new beginning just like us." His eyes creased as he looked into hers so warmly, making her melt. "You might protect my scales, but I want to protect your smile. I hope you can let me do that."

"I-"

She rushed forward and hugged him, squeezing him tight. Tears streamed down her face, and she choked down a sob, but she hugged him as tight as she could, not letting go.

"Thank you, Clay," she said when she finally let him out of her little death trap.

"Woof!" He stumbled backwards, breathlessly. "I know I said be true to yourself, but maybe we can work a little on the intensity." He looked at her with a silly expression on his face. "Just kidding. You're perfect the way you are."

"Ha ha," she guffawed. "Tell that to anyone else at Jade Academy." She joked, but she knew deep in her heart that the others were starting to see her for what she could be, too. Not just a monster, or a weapon - but a friend.

"So my queen, shall we return to the mountain?" He curtseyed awkwardly, then looked up with one eye. "Actually, wait, that sounds kind of weird? Girlfriend? Babe?" He started scratching his head. "Names were never really my strong suit."

She howled with laughter and smacked him on the back, taking flight. "Just call me Peril," she triumphantly roared. As Clay lept into flight behind her, grinning, Peril thought... Not gonna lie - I like babe too.

#wings of fire #wof #wings of fire spoilers #wof spoilers #wof clay #wof peril #i did it #i wrote my first fanfic

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womenofwonder · 3 years

Text

Option on RWBY ships:

Btw, I don’t usually ship characters. Romance is usually the least interesting part of the story for me so expect a lot of meh.

Arkos: obviously I love this, it’s perfect

Blacksun: ehh, it’s cute. I started out feeling kinda meh, it was sweet but not really interesting, but now it’s growing on me. Ironically the same thing is happening with Bumblebee, although I still like Blake and Yang better platonically

Bunanas: so this is a ship between Velvet and Sun, and it’s honestly really cute to imagine even if it is completely random. I like it better then Blacksun…I think?

Candy Cane: this is just weird. I can’t imagine Nora being anything but a older sister to Oscar. The age gap makes it creepy too, not the four years is much of a gap, but when your teenagers it’s a big gap.

Chocolate Arc: this is hilarious to imagine but obviously yeah, Coco isn’t going to fall for someone like Jaune

Cinnabun: I barely know anything about Yatsuhashi but he and Velvet are cute, I guess? Still like her better with Sun

ClockRose: heck no!

Coconuts: again, can’t see Sun doing anything but annoying Coco. I really don’t like the whole ‘badass jerk of a girl falls for goof ball trope.’ It always ends up feeling sexist in several ways

Combat Boots: honestly outside of an AU I can’t see Yang ever forgiving Mercury much less falling in love with him. Also Mercury just doesn’t deserve her

Combat goggles: I feel like Yang and Neptune would have fun causally dating each other and slowly realizing they actually like (Blake/Sun/Jaune/whoever) and become each other’s wingmen. That fanfic better be lying around somewhere

Crimson Lotus: okay, if I didn’t love Renora and Rosegarden so much I’d probably ship this. It’s really cute

Crimson Sun: this feels like an excuse to write lemons of the two hottest characters

Crimson wings: look I understand most of the shipping heroes with villains because they’re both hot and the villain/hero dynamic is always fun. But Cardin…he’s not even hot. He’s not even interesting. And yet people ship him with Ruby? Why?

Daddie Issues: you know I see where this is coming from but they would just end up murdering each other.

Dairy Farm: obviously this is downright creepy in cannon, but in an au where Neo isn’t evil and both are closer in age, this would be adorable. I feel like Neo’s main problem is she’s incredibly lonely—other then Roman no one bothers to understand or talk to her. If Oscar reached out to her, and she began to protect him…it would be perfect. In way even better then Rosegarden because I think Neo would still be a bit of pycho even when good, and it would be fun to see her lose it when Salem hurts him.

Ilia/Adam: I just want to say I am forever grateful the show went out of its way to avoid this obnoxious, cliche ship from being canon

Dragon slayer: I see why people ship Jaune and Yang, I really do. They’re both the team mom/dad of their team, they’ve got the whole goofball/badass thing going (which is a trope I do like when the badass isn’t a jerk), they both have a good sense of humor, etc. But I just can’t see them as romantic. It feels really weird. I can’t even explain why. I understand shipping them but I really can’t ship them myself.

Emercury: I really love this ship, but I also don’t mind at all if the show decides to make them platonic. I enjoy their relationship in general and it works either way.

Oscar/Emerald: again, feel creepy. I love the idea of a sibling relationship and can’t see them possibly being romantic even without the age gape.

Cinder/Qrow: yeah again. Both are sexy and good for angsty lemons. I’m not into that stuff so I don’t ship them

Fall Stinger: I just don’t know why anyone would ship Tyrian with anyone. Unless it was Salem and even that is super creepy

Firerobber: I like villain relationships but Roman already has Neo and Cinder is a hot mess. Literally

Firewall: I don’t know why anyone would ship Watts with anyone. He’s even worst less ship-able then Tyrian

Footloose: I don’t actually ship it but just imagine Mercury and Melanie bonding over weaponized feet.

Freckles: Yeah this is just painful. The two most adorable characters (Penny and Oscar), who go through the worst things imaginable. It’s endless fluff, angst, and whump, and I love cute romance and tragic romances, so this is definitely something I ship.

Frostbite: seriously, this is so weird and toxic. Having Adam fall for Weiss or vice versa. Maybe it would work in an AU or something but it’s just too creepy

Funky Beats: it’s cute, I ship it.

Gelato: yeah I love healthy villainous relationships! Neo and Roman are freaking adorable, and I’m sad that we didn’t see more of them together.

Grandmasters: I obviously don’t ship Salem and Ozpin because that’s just creepy, but I do like their romance. I like tragic romances, and this probably the most tragic one in existence

Greek Lotus: I don’t see the chemistry and crashes two of my favorite ships so…

Green Knight: well, she kinda helped kill his last girlfriend so…unless it’s AU this isn’t going to work. Even if it is an AU. This feels like another ship made solely for lemons

Velvet/Cardin: yeah, a bigot changing his mind when he falls in love with a minority isn’t cute. Isn’t sweet. It isn’t romantic. I don’t even excuse lemons that use this trope. Even porn ought to be above that

Weiss/Cardin: WOULD EVERYONE STOP SHIPPING CARDIN WITH PEOPLE

Hummingbird: it’s hard to ship something when you only know one character, but I was interested in the theory that Qrow was actually Ruby’s father. But then in season 7 Qrow’s description of Summer made me rethink it, and it didn’t sound anything like how you’d describe a romantic relationship. So I don’t really like that theory anymore

Iceberg: this is just cliche and boring. I get them dating but it wouldn’t last that long

Flynt/Weiss: I really love this one, it’s my favorite ship with Weiss. I don’t want it to actually happened in cannon because that would be random, but I feel like it would be fun for both their characters. And they both share an interest in music. I’m imagining an AU where he gets her into jazz and she starts singing it at all her concerts to the horror of Jaques.

Iron Maiden: honestly what. Why. Gross

Iron witch: well I definitely see why people like it. I actually wouldn’t mind it being cannon, It’d be a good combination of funny/tragic and I’d like to see Glynda mentoring Winter

Jailbirds: this just feels forced and also Qrow is probably too old for her. I like their relationship and don’t want it to be romantic

Knight fall: lemon ship. Moving on

Knight Life: I feel like Jaune just gets shipped with everyone but this is cute I guess

Lancaster: it’s cute, but I can’t ship it because it feels cliche. I was worried that Jaune was going to be her love interest when they first met and was relieved to see him with Pyrrha instead. It just feels forced and boring to have him end up with Ruby

Pyrrha/Mercury: this really popular for some unfathomable reason. I like Mercury but Pyrrha deserves better

Marrowgold (May/Marrow): I just don’t see it

Nikong: Pyrrha and Sun would be cute together, but I don’t really love this ship. It’s kinda meh.

Nora’s Arc: no. Just no. It technically would work but their platonic relationship is way too good to lose

Old Silver: this is Maria/Pietro, and I think it’s adorable. They both strike me as really flirty for their ages and both are very good mentors. They can be the crazy grandparents of the team

Ozglyn: just don’t see it

Phoenix: yeah Raven was a horrible girlfriend/wife. I don’t ship her Taiyang

QuickSilver: Ruby deserves better than Mercury.

Rehab (Qrow/Glynda): the fact that this is called rehab explains why I don’t ship it

ReNora: yeah, this is probably my favorite ship. I don’t think I have to explain why.

Robotic Knight: I briefly shipped this but now disagree

Rosegarden: I really love Rosegarden, they’re just too adorable together, though the whole Ozpin does make it a little awkward

Rosewick: I can’t see this happening, even in an AU

Coco/Fox: I don’t know enough about Fox to really ship them, but the fact that Coco canonically slaps his butt during battle definitely makes me want to

Mercury/Neo: I could see this working. It would be pretty cute

Silent Knight: again, it would have to be an AU and even then I don’t see it working

Snowbird: so at first I really liked the idea of Qrow and Winter being ex’s, but now that I think about it he has to be at least twenty years older then her. Also, I have to say that while they have chemistry I think they would just end up killing each other

Speakeasy (Flynt/Coco): I got to say I like this ship and could see them having a lot of chemistry together

Strawbanna: I just can’t see Ruby and Sun together. It feels weird

Sunflakes: Can’t see it working

Sunflowyr (Ren/Yang): don’t see any chemistry. Again this just seems random

Tauradonna: this is obviously as toxic as you get.

The Hunt (Cardin/Blake): stop shipping Cardin with anyone!

Mercury/Cinder: Mercury is way too young, and even if he wasn’t this would be really weird. Also Cinder makes him look like a stable, peaceful person, so also no.

Toxic Petals: I swear I’m done with this. No more Cardin, Tyrian, or Watts ships. They too gross

Velveteen Knight: Aw, they’d be cute together

White Knight: I really hate this ship. It’s so obnoxious and boring, and nearly falls into the jerky badass/goofball trope I hate

Winter Soldier: ew, no, Ironwood is like her dad

Wise Dragon: anyone care to explain why this is so popular? Sage barely has any character to him, I can’t ship him with anyone

Yellow rose: Yeah, I kinda ship this, but again, it’s difficult when you barely know one character

IronQrow: I understand why you would ship this but I just don’t see it. Guys can hug without being gay you know

Martial arts: why?

Noah’s Arc: why?

Sea Monkeys: again I understand why you could ship it but I don’t. They’re obviously just friends to me

Shovel Knight: like most Oscar ships it feels weird. Jaune is obviously a big brother to him

TaiQrow: As funny as it is for Tai to sleep with every member of his team, I don’t ship it.

Fair game: I really can’t stand Clover so again, don’t ship it

Achilles heel: Cinder literally kills Pyrrha, why would you ship them?

Baked Alaska: lemon ship

Black glass: annnd, another lemon ship.

Blood Mint: yeah I don’t see Emerald and Ruby ever being a couple

Catmelon: I found Ilia’s crush on Blake kinda cringy and I can’t see them being a couple

ColdMurder (Weiss/Cinder): even in an au I don’t see it working

Cold Steel (Penny/Winter) eeewww, they’re practically sisters

Cream Machine (Neo/Penny): I mean…if she wasn’t evil…and wasn’t so much older…it might work? Maybe?

Crosshares: cute but I feel like Velvet is too much of a doormat for Coco

Digital Clock: Ciel obviously didn’t care much for Penny, and she was barely a character at all. I don’t see it

Pyrrha/Nora: don’t see it, and also can’t stand the idea of breaking up the two best ships

Falling Petals: I get that Cinder is hot, but can we stop shipping her with the kids she’s trying to murder? Because I can see several things wrong with that

Freezerburn: again, for no reason that I can think of this ship just doesn’t work for me. Much like Dragonslayer it just feels weird

Gingersnaps (Penny/Nora): that would be chaotic. I can’t really see them romantically though like most Penny ships it would be cute

Guilty Conscience (Bree/Winter): oh please no. They really don’t have any reason to be together

Ladybug: I just can’t see Blake with Ruby at all. Blake feels way to old even though she’s only older by two years.

Milk and Cereal (Ruby and Pyrrha): I guess it would work but I just don’t any chemistry

Mint chocolate (Emerald/Coco): if Coco managed to forgive her for everything that happened at Beacon I could maybe see this happening. There is some chemistry

Mommy issues: Nah, can’t see this working out.

Monochrome: Blake and Weiss have never had any romance chemistry despite plenty of opportunity to have it, so again, I see them as strictly platonic and shipping them feels almost like incest. I know that doesn’t make sense

Nordic Winter: I can’t see Weiss handling Penny, but again, any Penny ship is pretty cute

Nuts and Dolts: I would ship, but I like them together platonically too well. Definitely understand the ship, though I find it funny that Ruby, who insist she likes weapons better then people, would fall in love with a personified weapon. I know that’s probably racist against robots

Overheating (Penny/Cinder): I take back what I said about every Penny ship being cute

PennyWeiss: but this one is pretty cute

Pink Lemonade: can you imagine the chaos of Yang and Nora dating each other? They both need someone with a cooler head to keep them in check

Scheenoks: with Weiss’s fangirling I can definitely see were this is coming from, but Weiss is too mean for Pyrrha

Steadfast: I really don’t ship any of the ace-ops with anyone. I found them all boring and annoying except for Marrow

Strawberry Shortcake (Neo/Ruby): not seeing it

Sugar Rush (Ruby/Nora): Again, too much chaos. They both need chill partners. And I love Rosegarden and ReNora too much

Thunder cat (Blake/Nora): don’t see any chemistry between them

WhiteRose: I can see why this is shipped and I don’t dislike WhiteRose shippers. I just prefer Rosegarden, and find Weiss and Ruby working better together romantically

Bumblebee: again, I see this working better platonically, not romantically. It kind of annoyed me at first, but it is growing on me, much like Blacksun. I still like Blacksun better though

Enabler: No.

#Rwby #rwby ships #bumblebee #blacksun #rosegarden #roman/neo #WhiteRose #Arkos #Renora #ruby rose #wiess Schnee #snowbird #qrow #winter Schnee #fairgame #blake bellodona #Yang Xiao Long #oscar pine

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samstree · 3 years

Text

The One with the Coastal Customs

Geraskier, 1.8k, Fluff, Crack, Secret Relationship, Kaer Morons at their best, humor, Jaskier takes one for the team

Inspired by Friends. Read on AO3

Breakfast at Kaer Morhen is full of chatter as always. With Ciri and Yennefer joining them a few days ago, loud arguing and laughter always fill those once empty halls.

Jaskier picks at the rye bread on his plate, not paying attention to Lambert’s clearly exaggerated monster story, though Ciri seems completely entranced, prompting him to go on with anticipation.

His mind is still full of last night’s visage of Geralt pressing him against the wooden door and kissing him senseless. The witcher had to come to his bedroom after everyone else turned in so no one noticed. After the whole mountain incident last year and Geralt’s following apology, they thought it wise to keep their blooming relationship in secret for a while.

Let’s not tell everyone in a rush. Geralt was the one who proposed the secrecy. Whatever we have here is ours, Jask. I don’t want them to interfere or mess it up. You are too important to me, He said. Besides, what could go wrong?

Jaskier, at the time, agreed to it whole-heartedly. The witcher was so sincere that day, his golden eyes flowing with adoration and vulnerability that Jaskier could not deny him anything.

Despite some inconveniences, Jaskier has to admit it does make things excitingly hot. He almost feels like a naughty student sneaking out of class to make out with a lover again.

Jaskier’s hand comes up to touch the skin on his neck, the same spot where Geralt nibbed and sucked gently last night and left him a sobbing mess. Next to him, Geralt catches his motion with a look before a faint smile quirks up the corner of his mouth.

“Grape juice?” the witcher passes him the pitcher with the most unaffected tone in the world but his other hand travels up Jaskier’s thigh teasingly.

He has to choke in a gasp.

“…and bam! The third wyvern drops dead.” Lambert ends the story proudly, “And that’s why I’m the best witcher at this table. You have a lot to learn from me, princess.”

Ciri giggles as Geralt and Eskel chime in to call out all the lies in that tale. The room erupts in jabs and loud arguments.

Yennefer is the only one who remains silent throughout the whole meal. Her violet gaze only falls on Jaskier once, piercing with intent, before looking away like nothing happened. Even though their exchanges are a lot more amicable these days, the sorceress tends not to acknowledge Jaskier’s existence very often.

From the corner of his eyes, Jaskier sees Vesemir leave for the library. The older witcher still has work for him to finish today.

“Right, duty calls.” With a screech of chair, Jaskier stands so he can leave too. “I’ll see you later.”

He rests his hand on Geralt’s shoulder and leans in for a kiss. Geralt’s lips taste like the sweetness of grape juice and Jaskier revels in it for a moment before pulling away.

Everyone at the table is staring at him.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Jaskier freezes on the spot, a million thoughts going through his mind. Is it time to announce it to the world? They are ready for everyone to know and get involved, aren’t they?

But with one look at Geralt, he abandons the thought. The witcher has gone pale, and stiff as a statue. Panic starts to creep into those beautiful honey eyes, so subtly anyone else would have missed it.

Geralt is not ready.

Jaskier swallows. Well, there’s nothing to it.

He turns to Eskel, who’s holding a spoon mid-air and studying him with confused surprise.

“Eskel. See you later too.” He cups the older witcher’s jaw and presses their lips together. Eskel, the sweet man, even holds on to his wrist by reflex. He ends it with a pop before going around the table, careful not to trip over a chair.

Lambert can only be described as dumbfounded when Jaskier leans in, and incredulous afterwards.

“Have a nice day, Lamb.”

Yennefer looks at him with the same scrutiny. Wait, why is she looking smug? Fuck, the mage is looking scarier than the day they met. This one he might regret the most later.

“My favorite witch. It’s so good to have you here.” Jaskier opens his arms dramatically before going in, the familiar lilac and gooseberries filling his senses. Oh, her lips are so much softer.

When he stands to straighten his doublet, the whole table is still looking at him in silence. Geralt is tense as a statue while Lambert’s mouth hangs slightly open.

“Right.” He pats Ciri on the back and runs away from the scene, keeping his footsteps as steady as possible.

Ciri is the first one to break the silence.

“What the hell just happened?”

“Language.” Yennefer berates her, seemingly unfazed.

Geralt swallows a lump. If Jaskier is willing to go such length to keep the promise, he can try to look inconspicuous for a moment.

A blush is creeping up on Lambert’s face, but he tries to hide it with biting words. “Geralt, what the fuck is wrong with you bard?”

“Watch your language too.” Eskel’s voice is steady with amusement. “Why do you mind it so much anyway? He’s being friendly. It was nice.”

If Eskel wipes his lips casually with a pleased look, nobody mentions it.

“In what world is that friendly?” Lambert scowls.

“It’s –” Geralt clears his throat, “He went to the coast last year. In the south. Must have picked up some local customs. That’s…um…how they greet each other. In the south.”

Lambert stares at him. “Doesn’t feel southern to me.”

Geralt gulps down all the juice in his cup. When he puts it down, Yennefer is studying him like a predator might a prey.

“Interesting custom.” Her violet eyes sparkle with curiosity.

Geralt has never been more grateful for his witcher trials for allowing him to remain calm under extreme pressure. His heart still beats slowly without revealing anything.

They are fine as long as it doesn’t happen again.

It happens again.

Jaskier sucks at Geralt’s lips with heated passion, drawing a soft moan out of the witcher. Neither of them pays any attention to the flurries of snow falling into the empty courtyard around them.

“I’ve missed you today.” He moves down to Geralt’s jawline, and then his neck. “Where’d you go?”

“Had to repair the wall at the back, or the whole keep crumbles.”

“Hmm. Should have let it.”

Jaskier captures those lips again just when he hears people entering the courtyard, and pushes Geralt away with force.

It’s too late.

Eskel and Lambert stare quizzically at Jaskier, their training swords in hand. Behind him, Ciri is also in full gears, ready for lessons. The way she tilts her head in bewilderment is such a spitting image of her dad.

“Well.” Jaskier pats Geralt on the bicep. “Thanks for helping me clean the stable. That’s…nice of you.”

Roach snorts in the stable behind them.

He walks towards Eskel and kisses him again, and then Lambert. Boy he’s just noticing how tall the younger witcher is. Jaskier has to tiptoe a little bit. “I’ll be off then.”

When he passes Ciri, the girl just moves out of the way like he’s the plague. “See you, uncle Jask!”

Jaskier nods at her, carrying himself as naturally as possible, and enters the building.

The gwent is going great. It seems that Geralt is going to win again.

Jaskier yawns. He’ll never see the appeal of the game, so he just reaches over Lambert to grab the lute. Maybe a little practice will be good–

“Okay, bard. You need to cut it off.” Lambert stops Jaskier’s motion with a hand on his chest.

Jaskier blinks.

“I don’t care whatever–” Lambert gestures around Jaskier’s whole being. “– coastal customs you picked up from the south. It’s not…how we do things around here. We are not in the south and it’s fucking weird. So quit it.”

“Okay?” He blinks again.

“I know you like witchers more than the average man out there,” Eskel adds, “and you want to show us. I appreciate it, Jaskier, but it might not make us the most comfortable.”

“What now?” Jaskier looks around the room. Yennefer and Ciri are sitting by the fire with some magic book spread out between their knees, watching the situation unfold.

“Quit the kissing, bard.” Lambert scowls.

Eskel smiles politely. “Yeah, it’s best if you did.”

Oh.

Jaskier can see the two witchers are clearly not at ease. Lambert’s face is a ripe tomato and Eskel is acting way too formal with all the niceties.

“Okay. Of course.” Jaskier raises his hands in defeat. “I will stop assaulting you with the overly familiar foreign customs. Message received.”

“Thank the gods. It was disgusting.” Geralt deadpans.

Jaskier looks into those golden eyes he loves so much and wonders if he can express ‘I’m gonna put a pillow over your face tonight’ with a neural glare. The bastard only raises an eyebrow in challenge.

“If you do need to let it out somehow, Jaskier, maybe your friends at that fancy academy of yours are open to it.” Yennefer says, chill as the winter sky, “Or some of your lovers.”

Maybe Jaskier’s eyes are deceiving him, but he swears the sorceress glanced in Geralt’s direction when she said ‘lovers’.

The ladies resume their discussion about spells and magic, and the gwent game continues. Geralt does end up winning.

Jaskier plucks his lute, imagining a million ways for his witcher to make it up to him later.

Oh the sacrifices he has to make for this ridiculous man.

“The sacrifices I have to make for you, my dear.” Jaskier rests his head on Geralt’s shoulder, cuddling up to his witcher’s warm body.

“What sacrifice? I thought you were enjoying it.”

“They are quite good kissers though, especially–” He cuts himself off. It’s best not to discuss your lover’s brothers that way, or ex-lover, for that matter.

“Then what are you moaning about?”

“But my reputation!” Jaskier protests, “My name will be tarnished forever. Jaskier – barker and molester of witchers. None of you will ever let me sing your heroism anymore.”

“Hmm. Don’t you forget about Yen.” Geralt’s voice rumbles deep in his chest.

“Oh yeah. I’m surprised she didn’t turn me into a toad on the spot.” He plays with Geralt’s long hair. “By the way – I just have this inking – do you think, perhaps, Yennefer might know? About us?”

“Oh she knows.”

Jaskier bolts upright, looking at Geralt incredulously.

“Since when?”

“The day she arrived?” Geralt guesses, “I’m sure she took one look at us and figured it out. It’s not my fault she’s so smart–”

Jaskier picks up a pillow and throws it at Geralt’s smug face.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Geralt finally breaks out laughing. He catches the bard’s feral attack and pins him into the mattress. Jaskier’s angry little pout is too adorable Geralt has to kiss it away. Uninterrupted this time.

“Is it worth it though? All the sacrifices?” Geralt's breath ghosts over the skin at Jaskier's throat.

The bard only glares at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh long-sufferingly.

“For you, my dear. Always.” He pecks Geralt’s soft lips one more time. “As long as no one turns me into a toad.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #crack #fluff #i don't know what happened with this one #should i tag friends?#monica and chandler are the best friends #geralt of rivia #jaskier #kaer morons

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erodasghosts · 3 years

Text

memories & misconceptions | harry styles

prologue: the summer flashback

↳ read Thea’s version (tom holland fic) by @peeterparkr

song: adore you - harry styles

after months of working on this with nancy (@peeterparkr) i am very excited to be posting the first part of our new conjoined series. this will be two seperate fics, telling two different stories. they are each reader inserts, but the harry reader in the tom fic is named kat, and the tom reader in this fic is called thea (if that makes sense?) so you kind of get to pick which you want to focus in on more :) but to get the full experience read both!

story summary: Not every relationship can last forever, but what decides when it ends? Is it the memories of when things were, or is it the misconceptions of the present. What is stronger in matters of the heart when love and friendship becomes a choice? Does pride dim our devotion enough for it to be forsaken?

And is obstinacy strong enough to erase the memory of a hopeful summer night? When a group of friends are reunited after years of unspoken truths and turbulent grudges, old arguments and fights might ricochet, and though their history might be dense enough to drown them, it might be the one thing to keep them afloat.

prologue summary: the beginning of what was thought to be an endless love, and of the distance that would only grow further.

pairing: harry styles x artist!reader

warnings: none?

word count: ~9.3k

a/n: i hope you enjoy, and please give any feedback!

story masterlist

next chapter

masterlist

The wind brushed in through Harry’s bedroom window, pushing on the curtains with a calm and warm air. Summer always seemed so distant or quick to end, never stuck too long in the heat of it.

Summer struck you similarly to a craving that one can’t quite shake. People seem to dream of summer when finding themselves in the cold winter snow, yet wishing they could have just one last summer night when it is coming to an end. But summer was never meant to last for an eternity, and there were definitely things that no one wouldn’t miss when it did finally end.

Summer, though with its pleasant sunny days and warm nights, is about much more than just its weather. It was the time to be surrounded by friends, and an opportunity to feel that you had a supportive family. This was when lonely nights felt less empty, because you at least had the endless opportunities to see everyone together.

It was when new beginnings seemed to take place. There was a sense of security and possibly even courage that was placed within you at this time, allowing you to take some chances you might never risk otherwise. Even if summer wasn’t forever, and even if that courage would fade, you would try to take it in as if it was never ending. It was more beneficial and less damaging to just accept things as they came.

With the opportunity for new beginnings, you wondered what possibilities still would lie ahead. And not just for yourself, but your friends as well. You thought that maybe now, with summer getting closer to its end, you could find some of that temporary courage to use between yourself and Harry, and maybe Thea or Tom would find some for one another. Because if there was ever a time to take a chance in a new relationship it would be now.

“We’re playing this new song at Nana’s tonight,” Harry’s voice softly spoke above the flow of the wind, “I’m a bit nervous about it, we’ve only ever practiced it together...” he took a breath in. “It’s a great song, of course, because I wrote it,” he grinned, “but do you mind if I play it and you can tell me what you think?”

You smiled, looking up at him as you laid back on his bed, he was biting his lip anxiously. “Of course. I’m sure it’ll be great, I’m happy to help you still.”

He was sat beside you, one leg over the edge and holding his old guitar he used when writing songs. “Well, I’ve been working on it for a while,” he began to strum lightly with a quiet laughter, “just think of how much work and dedication I’ve put into this before being too harsh.”

“Oh, of course,” you laughed and placed a finger on your temple, “I’ll keep note of that as I’m judging.”

“Good,” he continued to play, nodding lightly. “But really, if you think it’s just complete garbage, keep that to yourself? My ego can’t take the damage of you not liking it.”

You propped your feet up on the headboard and raised a brow at him, “Are you ever going to start singing?”

“I am,” he chuckled.

Harry and Tom had tested out all of their songs with you and the others before playing to anyone else, using that to work out any changes they might want to make. Thea usually had more input, considering she had helped them write many of the songs they played. You and Andrew were still always happy to listen, and had some helpful feedback from just a listener's perspective.

You looked out the window, settling in as he cleared his throat to prepare. It was unclear as to why he was suddenly so anxious about playing a song for you, but you had decided to just patiently wait to listen.

“Be kind with your feedback,” He looked over.

Hitting his leg you scoffed, “For Christ's sake, Harry, sing.”

“Alright, alright,” he caved, still with a boyish smile.

Resting your hands on your stomach, you waited for him to finally start. He was turned back, looking down at the guitar and strumming with more intent now. Whatever the song, you figured it would be good considering his nerves. It must’ve been something important to him, since he had worked on it for so long and was so hesitant to actually share it. You wouldn’t push.

He took in a last calming breath before beginning. “Walk in your rainbow paradise,” his voice was quiet, “strawberry lipstick state of mind.”

It sounded smooth, tranquil. Mixed with the breeze and the soft echoing of conversations downstairs, the song and his singing felt so natural, as much as the sun felt natural when kissing your skin.

“I get so lost inside your eyes,” he smiled back at you. “Would you believe it?”

Feeling yourself tense up a bit, you suddenly found yourself putting more care into listening well to the lyrics. It must’ve meant something to him, with his nerves and all, so you wanted to give it more attention.

“You don’t have to say you love me, you don’t have to say nothin’, you don’t have to say you’re mine.”

His shoulders were more relaxed now, though there still seemed to be some tension. Every few seconds you noticed him glancing over at you, awaiting your reactions to each lyric. You were unsure of your own reactions, not wanting to give much of one in the case that your assumptions might be false.

But what else was there to assume about it all? Every piece of the song gave the impression that it was carefully crafted to be about one person in particular, and you nearly didn’t dare to imagine it could’ve been about you.

You recalled a conversation with Thea from just days ago, about a fear you had when it came to Harry. He and Thea were so much louder, and much more open than you had ever considered yourself to be. And so you had known about your feelings towards Harry for a good while at this point, but those had yet to be shared with him.

It was this fear of what saying it out loud might mean, how it could make things change. It was summer now, though, and those fears were meant to fizzle out with the cold winter weather and the rainy spring days. Summer was your opportunity to take the chance in saying it now.

“Oh, honey, I’d walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you, like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do.”

Maybe you wouldn’t admit your feelings at this exact moment, but soon. With more effect than summer was having, the words he sang seemed to give you a boost of confidence. What was the worst that could happen in assuming that it was about you?

Though less dramatic to the nod to your struggle with telling him how you felt, even the lyric about lipstick had been fitting for you. And, sure, it still could be considered a generic thing, but you were choosing to be optimistic now.

“You don’t have to say you love me, I just wanna tell you somethin’. Lately you’ve been on my mind.”

Feeling a burning in your cheeks now, you sat up to readjust yourself as casually as you could. Your backs facing one another, and shoulders side by side, Harry continued on. You could’ve sworn there was a pink tint on his cheeks too, causing a faint smile to form on your lips.

How in character of him to be saying these things through a song. It was probably feeding into his need to be theatrical, though he was still mindful of your own need to be more secluded as he sang with just the two of you there.

His anxiousness about playing it for you was making more sense now, because regardless of who it was about it was deeply personal. But his nerves were rarely so affected, it only proves acceptable to assume that he was in such worry because he was sharing something that was meant for you, with you.

Coming to an end, Harry cleared his throat and sat his guitar down beside him. “So, uh,” he brushed his nose, “what’d you think?”

With a puckish smile you replied, “It was… colourless.”

“What?” He turned himself, crossing his legs and leaning closer nervily. “What-what do you mean colourless?”

“Well,” you pursed your lips, “I guess I just… it’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” He pressed, “C’mon, I’ve been terrified of playing this for you.”

You smiled, looking at your hands and twisting your rings around, “I would say that it was a bit on the nose.”

You could see him visibly relaxing, a small smile on his lips and his usual confidence returning.

“I wanted to be straight to the point with this song, y’know?” He sat taller, “Figured that I should say it as it is, get my message across… but that doesn’t make it colourless,” he emphasized with an amusing grin. “That was just rude.”

“You asked for my opinion,” you shrugged, holding back a laugh.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, though!” He laughed.

The sun peeked in through the window above the bed, warming your skin in some sort of a comforting way. Any tension or nerves had been eased, and the both of you were simply melting into that moment now.

Silence was something that tasted so sweet when it was shared with Harry, yet it was so sour when alone. It wasn’t a panic or worry of what might happen next, but instead it was more like a reassurance that whatever might happen, it would be golden.

“I’ll try to be compassionate next time.” You let out a dramatic puff of air, “Though it’ll be rather difficult for me, I’m sure.”

Harry reached over, a doting look in his eyes, and caringly tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear. “I would appreciate any effort you could put in, my heart can’t seem to handle the brutal honesty.”

Knees rested against one another’s, Harry let his hand settle on your leg just below where your own hand had been lying. Maybe it was much more like fiction or fantasy than you had ever really wished for, though Thea would adore hearing about that part of it later, but it came so easily.

Fingers grazing delicately, Harry was leaning closer in. Taking the chance now, right at the end of summer, was a somewhat terrifying option. Yes, it was still your opportunity for a new beginning, but time was running out. If things wouldn’t work out, where would that put you in the fall?

It didn’t really matter to you anymore, that what if possibility. You were far too distracted by what was in front of you right now to be worrying so much about the future. Whatever may happen before the seasons changed, you would deal with it when it came.

Tracing his fingers up along your arm, Harry’s eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. Letting his hand rest now on your cheek, you could feel your face warming back into a blush. You both closed your eyes as you were nearing into a kiss, only inches away.

Your summer courage was coming back through, pushing you to close the space between.

“Guys, I’ve got some shit news!” Andrew’s voice rang from the stairs before he rudely shoved the door open.

You pulled back from Harry quickly, that feeling of security seeming to fade. Harry bit his lip, a small frown on his face from Andrew barging in. Andrew hadn’t known, but he very well could’ve squashed that new opportunity had you and Harry not been so determined already.

“Is no one going to ask what my news is?” Andrew sat dramatically at the end of the bed.

Harry chuckled, “What’s your news?”

“Oh, thank you so much for asking, Harry. Glad to hear you’re interested.” He cleared his throat, straightening his posture and holding a theatrical tone. “Thea’s invited Dickolas to the show tonight.”

Sharing a glance with Harry, you were both a bit annoyed that that was all that was interrupting the two of you. Which, that was bad enough news so you could somewhat understand his urgency. Still, it came as an inconvenience to how things were finally developing with Harry.

Regardless, Andrew was likely there to stay now and he had pretty well ruined the moment you had before, so you’d hopefully pick it up later.

“She invited him?” You turned yourself around, letting your legs dangle from the edge of his bed. “Why the fuck would she invite Nick?”

“Something about… needing a bigger crowd, which is true, but…” Andrew scrunched his nose, “Dickolas? He will just ruin everything.”

“I s’pose he will,” Harry mumbled, he seemed more sulky than you had been. “You’re here a bit early?”

“By like… five minutes,” Andrew chuckled, “what’s crawled up your ass? Did I interrupt something?” He wiggled his brows, “Were you two finally making a move on each other?”

You wondered if Andrew ever got tired of being invasive, though you hadn’t really minded him all that much. He seemed to be the only one in the group that could always call the rest of you out, which was a bit of an annoyance.

His childish comment had actually left you a bit embarrassed, considering how new that occurrence still was. It was typically so easy to get under your skin, but something about Harry made you cave any time that sort of teasing had to do with him.

“Piss off,” you hit Andrew’s shoulder. “We should be leaving to help Nana at the cafe anyway.”

Harry watched sorrowfully as you stood from the bed, “Oh, you guys should go ahead, I still have to get ready.”

It was as if he was remembering something last minute, some reason that he needed to stay.

“You sure?” You picked up your purse, “We could stay with you.”

“Andrew can keep me company,” he smiled widely, clapping a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “We won’t be far behind.”

“Thank you for volunteering me,” Andrew jested.

It was a bit odd. Harry could take a great deal of time getting ready on occasion, but you didn’t really see the need for tonight. Really, you already thought he would’ve been ready to leave just as he was. It wasn’t something to make a fuss about, though, and you figured you might easily over think it if you sat on the idea for too long, wondering if it might have something to do with the song and kiss.

Ignoring Andrew, Harry stood to follow after you as you left. “Hey, I’m…” his voice was low, “sorry about him interrupting. We should talk more after the show?”

“That’d be great,” you smiled and lazily looked through your purse. “I can give you more feedback about that colourless song of yours.” You joked, testing to see how things left off.

He smiled, leaning against his door frame. “Maybe some kinder feedback this time?”

“Possibly,” you gave a devilish smile. “There were definitely parts of it that stuck, though. It’s an absolutely terrific song…” Pulling a tube of strawberry lipstick from your purse, you placed it carefully in Harry’s hand, “for being so straightforward.”

Glancing down to his hand, he closed his fingers carefully around the tube. “Straightforward seems to be getting me somewhere, so I will take that as a compliment.”

This was the perfect season to convince yourself to go through with any action you might have feared otherwise. Harry had taken advantage of that with his song, and now you were stepping forward too even if it was just with lipstick. But that had seemed to be enough for him.

“Will you be cheering me on?” He had a melodramatic pout, “With such a small crowd watching us play I can use an extra amount of your support, less people to cheer me on and such.”

“Didn’t you hear?” You smiled teasingly, “Dickolas might be showing, he could bring in an entire herd of people, you know. You won’t need my support anymore when you’ve got an entire crowd watching.”

“I’d rather drop the band entirely than have support from Dickolas,” he scrunched his nose. “What would that say about Pandora’s Signs if we attracted people like him?”

Pandora’s Signs. Such a corny name Harry and Tom had chosen for their band.

Andrew peaked over Harry’s shoulder, “Are you two wrapping this up so Harry can actually be ready on time? Would be nice if he wasn’t late to his own show for once.”

Harry rolled his eyes, pushing Andrew back without even turning to face him. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” He pressed another smile towards you, “Not that Andrew is right or anything, but I probably should start getting ready.”

You could hear Andrew mumbling to himself as he went back to entertaining himself, already annoyed by Harry. Why he had put up with Harry, or the rest of you for that matter you would never understand. Andrew had just been a very patient person, you thought.

“Andrew is absolutely right, you’re almost always late.” And he had been, even if just by a few minutes. “I probably should be leaving now.”

Though knowing he should let you go, he wanted to grasp onto every second he could get.

“So that whole… moment has really ended, then?” He reached for the door knob, slowly pulling it further shut for a bit more of privacy from Andrew.

“I suppose it ended when you decided not to lock the door beforehand,” you joked, gently placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you at the cafe.”

It wasn’t exactly the type of kiss either of you were hoping for, but you could settle. Harry had a cheeky smile, gently squeezing the lipstick you had given him as you left. You had been waiting to see how things would play out between the two of you, and reality seemed to be turning out better than you had ever imagined.

You were thanking the burst of summer confidence, an excitement filling your stomach as you made your way downstairs. Thea would be the first person you’d tell, you thought she probably couldn’t wait to hear it all. You had been gushing to her for weeks about Harry, and Thea had always so carefully listened. She had likely been a huge factor to where your confidence with him was coming from too, always the first to support your feelings of him.

And you had tried your best to do the same for her, even as you struggled a bit more to show your enthusiasm. It made you question how things had been going between her and Tom, especially since you had started helping him to catch more of Thea’s attention. You had known about her feelings for him for some time, and his feelings for her were becoming increasingly more obvious.

As hopeful as you were about the two of them, it seemed to be taking them much longer to get together than it had been taking you and Harry, even if the events surrounding the song were new. Tom had struggled to just be more upfront about his feelings, nervous of what she might say. And, for once, Thea was equally as anxious.

But maybe they had gotten further while you were up with Harry, summer could’ve been helping them just as much.

“Because it’s Dickolas Thea, he…” Tom’s voice came from the kitchen, sounding annoyed and a bit disappointed. “He is a dick.”

“And you aren’t?” Thea spat back quickly.

Or maybe summer wouldn’t be helping those two at all. What reason would they have for fighting? And why would they choose Nick, of anyone, to fight about?

“I mean, they both are dicks.” You turned into the room, agreeing with Thea promptly. “Why would we want to put up with two dicks?”

Thea froze up, turning her gaze towards you now. She seemed fairly taken back by seeing you, maybe just not expecting you to so suddenly walk in as they fought. But there was this look in her eyes, one that nearly seemed hurt just when seeing you.

“Oh, haven’t thought about that,” she pondered before saying coldly, “then Tom doesn’t have to come.” A simple solution, then there wouldn’t be two dicks attending the show.

“It's literally my band?” Tom glared at her. They had seemed so hostile with one another.

“Maybe so but Thea makes a point,” you shrugged. Looking over to Thea with a smile you said, “Seems like an even trade with them.”

You made your way to stand beside her, crossing your arms with a placid grin. Whatever was going on between them, you figured you would have agreed with your best friend over Tom. Though you were close friends with him too, he could be a bit dim. Besides, you still figured that it was only a childish fight between them, not that any of it was being taken seriously.

“See?” Thea smirked, tilting her head mockingly. “Besides, I really do think that more people seeing you guys would be better, I don’t think a bunch of old farts is a great audience for your wanna be farty band.” She was right, honestly. They could use a better audience. “Anyway, I need to… go talk to Harry.”

Thea was making her way out, leaving you in more confusion and Tom was left in anger, it appeared. Though you thought, too, that he seemed a bit hurt by what she had said, specifically about the band. The fight didn’t seem to be as petty as you initially thought anymore. The realization that it might be serious between them made a bit of your joy leave, and you now were anxiously observing them trying to figure out what was going on.

“About what, exactly?” Tom asked, nearly walking to follow before stopping himself.

“The power of friendship.” Thea replied callously without stopping.

“Are you two…” you glanced between them, “okay?”

“No, thanks for asking,” Thea said easily. “See you there, my great friend,” she smiled at you before turning back to a frown, “and Tom.”

Watching as she left, you were utterly lost. Things were not at all similar to how you had hoped they were between them, and it was much different than the vibes between you and Harry just minutes before. What had you just watched? And what had happened beforehand to lead to it? Surely it had to do with much more than just Nicholas.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” You glared towards Tom, feeling stronger about defending Thea than him. Thea was never so petty without reason. You followed after her, “Wait, Thea, what’s going on?”

“What?” She was making her way upstairs. “Nothing, he’s just being an idiot…” it was odd for her to deflect. “Wait what’s… What happened with Harry? Why are you blushing? Did you kiss?”

“Wait, what? I’m…” you brushed your fingers across your cheeks, feeling a smile reappearing as you thought of what had happened. You were still excited to let her know, but that wasn’t what was more important at the moment. “No, we didn’t kiss, but…”

“But?” Thea was grinning widely, just as excited as you had been.

It had nearly been enough to distract you from whatever it was she was so harshly avoiding. What happened with Harry felt so unbelievable, the perfect sort of storybook thing that Thea had always gushed about. And even if it had so abruptly ended, you were excited to imagine where it might go from there, and you knew that Thea would have a few ideas to imagine out with you.

You shook your head lightly, more concerned about her and Tom. “You’re just avoiding whatever happened with Tom.”

“Nothing happened,” Thea insisted. It didn’t seem true, “But you’re the one avoiding whatever happened with Harry, please!” She shifted the focus again. “You guys were there for about… an eternity, what happened? You’re smiling like an idiot.”

She was right, you still were. You really were trying your best to hide it, but the feeling was too lively for you to just block it off.

“I am not avoiding it, I’m actually happy to share but I’m just concerned for you…” Which was true, but her distractions were slowly working. “Was I really blushing, though?”

“Well, what happened?” She nudged your arm.

Would it be bad of you to just let it go? You didn’t want to push her, but she seemed really upset about something. Letting it go for the moment seemed to be best, you could ask her about it again later, and maybe then she would be more prepared to talk.

“I’m expecting to hear about Tom later, but…” you caved, letting yourself smile excitedly again, “Harry wrote this new song, and he was playing it for me… he seemed pretty nervous to share, and I guess it… I mean, it seemed to… be about me?”

It had sounded so over-the-top as you said it out loud, but even just the memory of it was stirring up the butterflies in your stomach. You were still processing it, honestly, and it was just too enthralling.

Thea must’ve agreed on that, because all she could seem to do was let out an entirely thrilled scream. You laughed a bit at her reaction, almost wanting to shy away from the attention but being far too ecstatic to do so.

“And?” She asked you, a shine in her eyes now. “What did you do?”

“I… I mean, we were close to kissing before Andrew had interrupted…” you admitted, “and then on my way out I gave him my lipstick, like he had mentioned in the song.” You glanced at her, waiting for her reaction.

“Shut up,” Thea smiled, “you should’ve bloody kissed him in the moment you twit!”

“I know, and we had been so close!” Regrettably close, because it hadn’t happened.

“And how do you feel about this?” She asked, stepping closer to you as she went on. “Are you finally admitting it? That you fancy his stupid ass?”

Now that you might never admit, because what a shame it might be. You had admitted it, to yourself and very indirectly to Thea only once before. You didn’t really need to say it for her to know, it had been very plain to see, but she still had to tease.

You had been telling her all about him for weeks, though most of it she knew herself from being his friend too. But there were things you had learned about him no one else knew yet, though some of the things were small. Harry was interesting to you, and it was easy to learn more about him because he had always wanted all eyes on him.

“Well I never said that, did I?” You joked. “And I could’ve chosen much worse, like Tom or something.”

That struck a nerve in her, her eyes going a bit cold again. “Fuck him.”

You raised your brows, shocked by her response since she had rarely used such words. “So you’re cussing now, what happened?”

As excited as you were to be sharing everything that happened with Harry, wanting to go on and on about it, really, you couldn’t help but be brought back to noticing whatever was happening with her. If something happened, you would’ve rather talked about that than go on about your own more positive experience.

Thea never wanted to take away from your happiness, or anyone’s for that matter. “What happened is that you almost kissed Harry and you’re being stupid and avoiding it.” Which neither of you believed. “So, what’s up with that?”

“Hmm, sure, that’s all.” You weren’t convinced, how could you be? If you kept pushing, though, you worried what her reaction might be. “But I don’t mean to avoid it, for once, it’s just that Andrew came in. After the show, though, maybe I can get my lipstick back from him, you know?”

“I’m pretty sure he wanted the lipstick,” she began, a smirk on her lips, “so then, how about when he gives it back, you use it so he can actually taste it.”

Thea had her lips puckered, leaning towards you as she made kissing noises. You were trying your best not to laugh, wanting to avoid her comment entirely.

“Anyway, I’ll tell you how that goes!” You cleared your throat, “You’re sure you don’t want to ride with Tom and I?”

“I’d rather jump off a cliff,” she rolled her eyes, quick to change moods again. “No… I’m joking, I…” Thea pressed her eyes shut, “I just need to talk to Harry about one of the songs… But I’ll see you guys there.”

“Uhm,” your lips pressed together, “yeah, alright.”

Thea looked over your face, noticing your response and worrying that she sounded too cold.

“Yeah, and if you get the chance, please break his neck.” She smiled lightly again, trying to brighten your mood.

It was false, a faulty wall she was putting up so you’d let it go. You could understand not wanting to talk about whatever it was, but it was a little odd that she was acting so withdrawn. And you had recognized her need to please people, so the fact that she kept changing it back to you and Harry wasn’t much of a surprise, though it still hurt in a way. Like she hadn’t trusted you enough to tell you what it was.

You figured it was a worry more in your mind, and you wouldn’t overreact just yet. “I’d take any excuse to do that,” you smiled back, “but I do expect an explanation once I’ve done it.” A subtle way of trying to make it an easier topic maybe.

“It’s nothing, y/n.” She said quickly. “See you in a bit.”

With another faux smile, Thea turned back and made her way up the stairs. Maybe you had pushed her too much. You had noticed that she didn’t want to talk about it, and you were angry with yourself for not just letting it go. But, you recognized too that you were only trying to help her. You were concerned about not just her, but Tom too really.

It didn’t make sense that they were fighting then, and that it had been bad enough for Thea to just walk away. That hadn’t been the worst of it, you would’ve known if it was. Whatever the worst part was had something to do with so much more than just you, or even Dickolas.

You still wanted to help them, and although Thea hadn’t been so open to accepting your help, maybe Tom could use it. You did still side more with Thea on it, having no background on the situation, but it couldn’t hurt to ask him for his side of the story.

Trying to shake off your last exchange with Thea, you went back to the kitchen to talk with Tom.

“Were you really that bothered by her inviting Nick?” You chuckled, “I mean, I don’t blame you for being pissed about it, seeing as how crusty he is, but it did seem that you were being a bit dramatic.”

Tom was running a hand down his face, leaning against the counter and sitting in his own bit of pity.

“Nicholas is… he’s an urchin and I don’t want him at my show,” he complained. “She just… decided to invite him out of the blue, like it was nothing.

“The show is open to the public,” you pointed out. “And Thea can invite whoever she wants, even Dickolas.”

“Yes, but why did she choose him?” He asked tiredly. “It was like she did it just to be against me, you know?”

“Don’t be so self centered.”

“You weren’t there when she invited him,” he retorted. He was quick to be so defensive, just as Thea had been. “She… she doesn’t even like him, but you know who does? Her bloody father.”

Your brows knitted together, “What does that have to do with it?”

It was true, that Thea hadn’t even liked Nick yet her father had. But her father hadn’t liked Tom or Harry, which didn’t seem to make much sense to you knowing what you had about Nicholas.

“She probably just invited him to please her father,” Tom explained, pushing off the edge of the counter, “And if he shows, at least she’ll be spending time with someone her father actually approves of, and if not she still tried.”

Thea was known to be a people pleaser, you couldn’t deny that. And she had often done things just for her father’s approval, so he was right in that sense too. But it wasn’t of malicious intent, or at least not often.

You had probably known more on the topic than Tom, considering how much longer you knew Thea and just the types of relationships you each had with her, so you knew that deep down her reasoning wasn’t just to get back at Tom. You hadn’t witnessed their fight, or her inviting Nick, but you knew Thea.

“Which do you think it is then?” You asked him, pressing your lips together. “Is it that she did it to go against you, or she did it because her father likes Nick?”

He looked at you, somewhat dumbfounded by your question. “Both,” he replied. “He has always preferred Dickolas over me, and she was just taking the opportunity to… to hit two birds with one stone. Inviting him would make her father happy, and she was being petty and trying to get back at me for before.”

“Before?” You asked, growing more and more curious. “What happened before?”

Tom’s gaze snapped to meet yours, as if he was suddenly remembering that you were actually there talking with him and he wasn’t just ranting about to himself. He had said too much, or at least much more than he was hoping to say at this point.

“No, nothing, it’s…” his mind was scrambled. “Maybe, well, maybe I’ll tell you about it later? We should just enjoy tonight, shouldn’t we? We’ve got a show to get to.”

A sudden change in his tone, Tom was guiding you outside with him to his car. You had actually been getting answers about whatever happened, and now he was just avoiding it as plainly as Thea. Prying did no good, so you thought it would just be better to drop it now before he too might get more defensive on the matter.

The fight that happened between them was something that they wanted you to think was nothing. They wanted you to believe it was petty, and that it could be let go of quickly. But if that were the truth of it, Thea would’ve just told you what had happened, and Tom would’ve too even if just to complain. You knew them, and you knew that it was more than they cared to admit.

You also knew that trying to force either of them to talk about it would only make the situation worse. They would become defensive, and they would possibly shut you out entirely. But, if they were ready to talk about it then they would. What worried you, though, was imagining when they might finally be ready, if ever.

Riding to the cafe with Tom, the sun seemed ever so slightly dimmer than it had been before. The breeze was still blowing the same, but the warmth in the air seemed to be fading.

“I’m sorry about all of that back there, with Thea and all.” Tom said meekly. “It was a stupid fight, and I guess I’m just sorry you caught the end of it.”

Maybe you’d get to figure out more about it sooner than you thought.

“It seemed like your usual joking banter, just…” you thought, “a different tone.”

He scoffed lightly to himself, “We had been arguing before, and then she invited Nick which just seemed to make things worse.”

“So I’ve figured out,” you chuckled. “But what in the world had the two of you so torn up?”

Tom sighed, pausing to think before saying anything more. He still seemed to have an endless rush of thoughts going through, and you could almost see him trying to figure out which to focus on first. It was like he was trying to be careful with what he said, possibly avoiding any more conflict like before.

“We were just talking about…” he took a long breath in, he seemed nervous.

It was a type of anxiousness you had seen before, though having not yet connected it. He was talking so softly, and there was a light touch of pink across his cheeks. Why had he cared so much about whatever Thea’s father thought, and even about her inviting Nick?

You had known about his crush on her, and maybe that had something to do with it. His nervousness would explain that, and so would his total confusion as to the thing with Nick too.

“Wait,” you were grinning ear to ear. “Did you… did you finally tell her about your crush on her?” If he had, why was she so upset? “How did you manage to fuck that up?”

“I didn’t,” he said quickly. “I didn’t tell her that.”

You frowned, “Oh?”

“No, I…” he licked his lips, “I told her that I liked you.”

What?

Tom was glancing at you, trying to take in your reaction, but you didn’t have much of one. You couldn’t really process what he said, because it was completely out of pocket.

“What… What do you mean?” You turned to him.

“I told her that I like you,” he repeated, as if that would help. “I said I liked you, and that I thought we were a good match. And, I mean, we’ve been getting closer so I thought that maybe…”

“You’re joking,” you shook your head.

“No,” he had a nervous laugh, “I’m not.”

What was he trying to get out of this? Was it some stupid joke? Was it just to mess with you after the song and all with Harry? You wondered if maybe it was some stupid test he was putting you up to before things with Harry went any further, since he was his best friend. Even Tom wasn’t that low of a person, though.

“You’ve got to be joking,” you didn’t know what else to say.

“Would it be so bad if I did like you?” Tom asked, and you swore he already knew the answer.

“You don’t like me.” You shook your head again.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do,” you scoffed, “because I know that you like her.” Meaning Thea.

“Maybe I don’t anymore.”

“Tom, be serious.”

“I am being serious,” he glanced over at you, growing annoyed. Of course he had the nerve. “I don’t think I like her anymore.”

“You don’t think?” What was he even saying? “And that’s enough for you? You aren’t even sure if you don’t like her anymore but you’re so sure that you like me?”

“Yes,” he replied, “and it doesn’t matter about her because I know that I like you.”

“Fine, I’ll amuse this.” You turned in your seat to face him, “If you do like me, why? What has made you change from wanting to be with Thea to thinking you want to be with me?”

That was the real issue here. It made no sense, it was coming from absolutely nowhere. There was nothing pointing to the thought that he might like you, and you weren’t sure what you did that would’ve signaled to him that you might like him too.

“Well, for one,” he began carefully, “we’ve been spending more time together--”

“So I could help you get with her.” You clarified. Was his reasoning really that simplistic?

“But being around you just made me realize that it’s you I like.”

No you fucking don’t, Tom.” Running a hand through your hair, you weren’t sure how to react at the moment. “Stop being so stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid,” he shook his head. “Why is it so hard to think I could like you?”

“Because I have literally been helping you to get with my best friend!” You scoffed, “What is about me that is making you be so fucking dumb?”

“I’m not being…” he bit his lip. “Why won’t you just listen to what I’m saying?”

“Because it’s a lie, and you’re not making any sense.” You said simply.

“It is not a lie, why would you think that? Is it…” he glanced over, “is it you think you aren’t good enough?” Was that a serious question? “Or--or is it that you’re afraid to admit anything because of what it might mean?”

There was nothing you had feared to admit to him, because you were comfortable with where your friendship with him stood, or you were before this conversation. Things were easy with him because he was the one from the group that was just like you. You knew that he understood why you were so careful when it came to sharing the truths held deep in your heart, because he had always had the same explanations for himself.

But regardless of his usual understanding, he didn’t seem to understand at all right now. The things he was saying seemed so random, having no evidence to back even a single word out of his mouth. And had he really mistaken your friendship for more? Wasn’t it clear of your intentions with Harry?

“Admit what, Tom?” You had had enough at this point. “Admit that you’re being a selfish prick?”

“No, admit that you actually do have some sort of feelings.” Tom probably thought he was being a genius. “But that’s what would be great with me,” he was backing himself up again, “I don’t want you to be pressured into that sort of thing. I understand how hard it is to be so open with someone, you wouldn’t have to force yourself into change with me.”

“What the hell does that mean?” What was he looking for here?

“We know each other so well, and that’s part of what made me realize how I feel about you.” He moved closer to the edge of his seat, gripping the steering wheel tighter, “Think about it, right? That’s why I was even coming to you about Thea, was because you could understand my feelings already. We don’t have to change how we express them for Thea or Harry, because we already understand each other.”

You knew that he could be an idiot, but was he truly so arrogant?

You didn’t mean to completely dismiss however he was feeling, because for all you knew he really could’ve developed feelings for you, but you really didn’t believe that it was true. If anything, you thought it was just some misinterpretation that he had done with his own emotions.

“What you’re saying is that because we both have the unhealthy coping mechanism of just shutting down we’re suddenly meant to be?” You mockingly nodded, “What a bloody genius you are, Thomas.”

“That’s…” he sighed, feeling more defeated, “no, but… We get each other.”

“And they’re doing their best to get us too.” You fought back, “That’s sort of the entire point of having any relationship with someone, is getting to know who they are. And that’s what I like so much about being with Harry, we’re still learning about each other.”

“Well, yes, but we’re already comfortable with one another in that way.” Why was he still insisting? “Don’t you see how simple it could be for us? We wouldn’t have to make all these huge changes to be with one another. We would already be comfortable in knowing who the other is.”

“I don’t want to be like this for my entire life,” you pleaded, “and I know you don’t either. It’s exhausting, and it’s crappy.” This was something you didn’t think you needed to explain to him. “And Thea always helps me with that, and now Harry is too. It’s not like it’s a bad thing that we’re growing as people because we’re around them.”

“Growth isn’t what I’m trying to talk about, I’m just saying that… you don’t have to force yourself into any change, you know that?” Tom really looked to be concerned.

“If you don’t want to be with Thea anymore can you just say that?” You sighed, “You’d be a fucking idiot for saying it, but it would make things less complicated.”

He scoffed, “Even if I did still like her it wouldn’t matter, she clearly doesn’t like me.”

It finally was feeling like you were getting somewhere with him.

“Why are you saying that?” Had something happened that you didn’t know about? Was that what was upsetting Thea earlier? “Is this what this whole thing is about? Did something happen with her?”

The entire feel of the atmosphere had changed, the sun now hidden behind the clouds. It was as if you were finally asking the questions he was hoping to avoid.

Tom was hesitant to reply, now avoiding looking your way completely. He looked like he hadn’t known what to say but almost as if he was thinking of the perfect response. You knew he might try to lie, or to just take the opportunity to end the conversation then.

Shockingly, he ended up cracking. “I told her that I liked you just before we left, when we were having tea downstairs...” he admitted, “and she hadn’t seemed to care, but you’d think if she did that she would’ve been…” he shook his head, “I don’t know.”

You hadn’t been there for that, obviously, but you already were guessing Thea’s reaction to him telling her that. Why would he even say something so stupid to her? Was he testing to see her reaction? Was it just some dumb teenage boy’s idea to see if she might fight for him? He was disappointingly thick.

“That’s what this all is about?” You questioned. “You stupidly lied about having feelings for me and she was taken back, and you took that immediate chance to just assume the worst?”

“Why do you think it’s a lie?” His voice was low again, giving up on defending himself.

“Because it doesn't make sense, Thomas!” You snapped. “I thought things were going so well, with me and Harry and the song, the-the lipstick, even--”

“What?”

“And I have been helping you, so you could get closer to Thea because that’s who you like, not me, and that was going so beautifully too.” You rubbed your temples, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. “Why are you now saying differently?”

How had you even ended up here? Fighting with Tom about something so petty.

He was being a fool, which he often was anyway. And this wasn’t just you trying to convince yourself that he didn’t like you, though that was definitely occurring as well, but it was that you genuinely didn’t believe it. And maybe you should’ve heard him out more, but the consequences of him saying that wouldn’t affect only him. It was already affecting Thea, and your relationship with the both of them. It begged the question of what else, and who else, this would affect.

“I just thought that if she cared she would have shown it.” He sounded totally defeated, actually taking it all in now. “Because if she did have any sort of feelings, she really fooled me… when I told her that all she could do was go on and on about Harry, and how opposites attract or whatever the fuck, so it was like the final nail in the coffin to me.”

He took a pause, pressing his lips together and sitting back a bit further. Even if he was an idiot, he did seem upset about her reaction. You knew his feelings for Thea were true, and maybe he really hadn’t realized that she liked him too. Thea hadn’t told a soul about her crush on him, she hadn’t even said it to you and you were best friends, but it was easy for you to see how she felt. Tom was hurt, and it seemed confused too.

“So you just spewed out that you liked me?” You asked quietly.

“No, no, I-” he sighed. “I really thought- or think?” He didn’t seem sure. “That I liked you. I guess I was just being stupid, though, right? I was just misreading all the signs, and I assumed far too much.”

You thought for a minute, trying to piece everything together. “Maybe I was just your fallback, since you thought that Thea wasn’t interested.”

Tom thought about it, though he didn’t seem happy about the idea. Who could blame him? It wasn’t exactly a good situation for anyone involved at this point.

“It’s just,” you began again, “what if you only liked me because I was there, I was familiar and I was someone you were comfortable with… and when you thought that Thea might not like you, you needed that familiarity?” You were trying to figure it out for yourself as much as you were for him.

He parked the car, silently taking the keys out as he considered your theory.

“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” You adjusted in your seat again. “That it was just a misunderstanding, because it seemed like a simple solution?”

Tom wasn’t giving you much of a reaction, and you had hoped that meant he was just realizing it too. That had actually made sense, it was a clear explanation to why he was saying everything that he had. It wasn’t out of spite, thought parts were, but it was just a mixup and confusion of his emotions.

“Yeah,” Tom finally said quietly, “that makes sense, I guess.”

He didn’t seem fully convinced, but you’d take what you could get because this was the simple solution to your own problems. It made things less complicated, and maybe it would allow you to clear things up with Thea. You wouldn’t have to worry about what those consequences might entail if what you thought of was true.

“Okay, yeah… great, right?” You nodded to yourself, frantically putting your purse over your shoulder and getting out of the car. “That’ll explain it all, and then things between us don’t have to be weird. And you can tell Thea, right, that it was all just a misunderstanding? You can explain, and you can tell her the truth of it now?”

He was much more quiet now, “Right, of course.”

And that was all you needed, for him to agree with you that it was all just a mistake, a misunderstanding. Because that’s what it had to have been, otherwise it was messing with everyone’s relationships and that wasn’t something that you wanted to deal with losing.

Now it was back to the focus of summer, back to focusing on the warmth of the sun and the calming twist of the breeze. You had your answer, and Tom had realized your truth. You convinced yourself that wasn’t an anxiety you would have to deal with for any longer.

“We should be going in now, to help get things ready.” Before he could say anything else, you went in to quickly distract yourself with any little task.

Knowing your way around the cafe well enough, you helped to set up the tables and such after having a brief conversation with Thea’s grandmother about the night. It was mindless enough work, just to keep you busy until the others arrived too. You wondered how much longer they might be.

Tom was inside now too, sluggishly getting his guitar ready. Had you cut off the conversation too soon? Surely not, how could’ve you? The solution was found, and it was clear as day… and hopefully not as mud.

When the others had finally arrived, you could feel the weight lifting off your chest. You weren’t focused on just Tom anymore, so that anxious aching was fading away. Though, part of you worried about telling the others about what had happened with him. That wasn’t something you could just hide away, was it? Especially not from Harry.

As you silently kept on setting up, Harry came up to talk to you, and that was when all worry seemed truly gone. The memory of earlier was still so warming to your heart, it clouded all other fears. Instead, you could feel those butterflies again, and the evening was brightening once more. Because it was warmer with him, you knew just what to expect.

Things weren’t as complicated as what Tom seemed to think they were between you and Harry, in fact things were so easy. You complimented one another very well, at least that’s what the two of you had thought.

“Oh, before we go on,” Harry smiled and took the lipstick out of his pocket. “I really would like to try some of this lipstick after the show.” He gently closed the tube in your hand, “But maybe I could get the taste from your lips?”

He laid a kiss on your knuckles, giving you a quick wink before going up on the stage to perform. Another smile appeared on your lips as you held the lipstick closer to your chest. It was moments like that that you dreamed of in the summer. That alone opened up so many new doors, and it included opportunities that you couldn’t wait to explore. That was the excitement of summer, even if in the simplest of ways.

You took your seat with Thea and Andrew, and the music began not long after. Thea seemed more relaxed now, and less upset about that entire issue with Tom. In fact, you had noticed her giving him a kiss on the cheek just before he went up on stage, and he now had red lipstick left where he had kissed her. You figured that was a good sign, they must’ve shortly talked things through.

Even Andrew, though he was a bit annoyed when his (rather new) stepbrother arrived, hadn’t let the night be spoiled. Everything was going so shockingly well.

As the music was coming to an end, you went behind the counter of the cafe to find some shirts that you had left there earlier that day. You had finally finished your design for a new logo for Tom and Harry, and you got it printed onto some shirts for them. More positive news for that day, helping to cover up your worries some more.

And when the music did end, you all gathered together in your excitement. Complementing their show, going on about how this one was by far the best show they had had, even if you all said that every single time. And the joy continued when you showed your new design for them, it was Pandora delicately holding a hawkshead flower. Things were so bright again.

Nana gathered you all for a picture together, thinking this might be a moment that all of you might want such a keepsake for. And this was just another day closer to the end of summer, yet for once it didn’t seem that this would all fade with the season.

read Thea’s side here

next chapter

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#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles series #harry styles x artist!reader #artist!reader #tom holland x reader #m&m #memories & misconceptions

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alinastracker · 3 years

Note

If you’re still doing the prompts I have oneeeee hehe

" i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are. "

you got it baby 🥰

but i know something’s starting right now

It’s a sweltering Ravkan summer day, but nothing brings heat to her body like watching Mal in the pool, water droplets racing down his chest. His shaggy hair is a mop on his head, and she realizes this is what he must look like in the shower.

This is exactly why she didn’t want to bring him on the trip.

It’s the first week of July, and for the past three years, that’s meant a trip to the Os Alta Resort with Genya and Zoya. It’s a way for them to relax after exams and catch up now that they all attend different schools. But at the end of May, the two of them had FaceTimed her about a change for this year.

“We were thinking of taking the boys with,” Genya says gently, nervous for her reaction.

Zoya is frank as ever. “It’s cheaper that way. Besides, after all this long distance, I could use a week of uninterrupted fuc—”

“Zoya!”

“Relax, Starkov. We’re all adults here.”

“Anyway,” Genya cuts in. “We’re just telling you in case you wanted to bring someone, too. Maybe Mal?”

“Mal and I aren’t dating.”

Only in her dreams.

“Might as well be,” Zoya mutters.

So in the choice between bringing Mal on what has basically turned into a couple’s retreat and going to said couple’s retreat alone, she’s chosen the former. It would be fine. Mal knows her friends. Him and Nikolai like to talk sports. Maybe it’ll be a little weird, being the only non-couple, but they could deal.

It would have been fine, if it weren’t for this morning’s check in.

"So it looks like we have you booked for three single rooms," the concierge says.

Alina frowns. "One of those should be a double."

The concierge checks again, each click of his mouse making her anxiety rise. He frowns. "Sorry, miss. It's showing me all singles."

"It's fine," Mal says. "Could we just upgrade it to a double, then?"

"Er, I'm afraid we're all booked, sir."

Nikolai claps his hands together, cheerful as ever at Zoya's side. "Well, I'll just switch with Alina, and Mal and I can — shit, Zoy!"

Zoya had stomped on his foot.

"We are not switching shit," she hisses under her breath.

Nikolai sighs. "My deadly dearest, certainly it's no big deal—"

"I bought us a new toy for this trip. We are not switching."

There is a brief moment where everyone freezes, then Genya groans, shaking her head as she murmurs apologies to the concierge, who is trying hard to pretend he hasn’t heard a thing. The tips of Mal's ears go red, and Alina is sure hers match. David, lost in his audiobook, is oblivious to all of it.

Nikolai clears his throat and turns to the two of them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, mate. You're on your own."

The concierge slowly raises a finger and says, "We might be able to supply a cot?"

Alina can feel everyone's eyes on her, which is the last thing she ever wants. She has the strong desire to curl in on herself, but that only really works in the winter when she dons large coats and sweaters. But it’s summer, and she is in only a mustard yellow crop top and jean shorts, though she suddenly feels as exposed as if she were completely naked.

Mal takes one look at her and gently nudges his foot against hers. "I mean . . . I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are?"

Her brain is looking for anyway out of this whole conversation, so she nods.

So far, they have been in their room once to drop off their things and change into bathing suits, both of them dancing around the bed without ever touching it. The air in the room feels charged even with sunlight still pouring in. What would tonight be like?

More importantly, how was she supposed to handle sleeping beside him when she can’t even handle watching him in the pool?

Genya climbs on Mal’s shoulders for a game of chicken — David is, unsurprisingly, not in the pool, but sitting beside Alina on a lounge chair. She feels a pang of something like jealousy as she watches the game commence, which cannot be more ridiculous.

They can’t avoid the night forever, and it comes much too quickly despite how long they spend mingling at the resort bar. In their room, Mal lets Alina use the bathroom first. A kind offer, she thinks, until she realizes it leaves her to stake out a spot on the bed first. No more dancing.

Left side or right? Does Mal have a preference? Does she? How long until Mal finishes in the bathroom and comes out to see her staring at the bed like a mental person?

Right side, she chooses finally. She curls up on the left side of her body usually, so this way, she doesn’t have to face him as they sleep. Good call. As she untucks the covers from the bed, she secretly hopes to find something horrifying, like blood or bugs, so they can get a refund and leave. Sadly, it is a perfectly fine bed. Alina plops onto it and tucks herself in.

Mal finishes in the bathroom a few minutes later, and if he’s as rattled about their sleeping arrangement as she is, he does not show it. There’s plenty of space between them as he settles into bed. Maybe this won’t be as bad as she feared.

“Well, goodnight,” Mal says through a yawn.

“Goodnight,” Alina replies.

They each turn off their bedside lamps. Mal is softly snoring soon after, but Alina stays awake much too long for her liking, thinking of how close he is.

They fall into a similar routine for the next couple nights. During the day, all is fine. Their little group meshes well. Genya and Nikolai are often off together, both of them on a mission, it seems, to try every flavor of ice cream from Os Alta's ice cream bar. Or sometimes it’s Nikolai and Mal running off, joining a game of pool volleyball, both of them stupidly competitive. When Zoya gets annoyed with the overload of children at the waterpark, she joins David on one of the lounge chairs to read for a while — Zoya a smutty historical romance and David a nonfiction on modern space travel. We just shouldn't let Jeff Bezos come back, he argues to Genya later, while Zoya murmurs to Nikolai something she wants him to do to her that night.

Alina thanks the saints her room isn’t next to Zoya’s.

The trip is going so smoothly that she doesn’t realize what trouble Sunday brings with it. It’s always their favorite part of the trip: bottomless margarita night. They all have absolutely horrific, hilarious pictures and videos of themselves from the past three years thanks to bottomless margarita night at Os Alta. But the thought of being drunk like that while she’s sharing a bed with Mal?

Okay, so she just won’t drink tonight. Problem solved.

“You can’t not drink!” Zoya says, personally offended.

“Come on, it’s tradition!” Genya agrees.

But she’s determined to hold out. Only when she sees the others with their drinks, she decides one sip won’t hurt. One sip becomes one drink, and one drink becomes a couple. Soon enough, she’s drunk enough to sign herself up for karaoke, another Os Alta tradition.

“I dunno what I should siiiing,” she slurs, swaying lightly on her feet.

“I have the perfect song for you!” Genya cheers excitedly.

So that’s how she ends up on stage, drunk off her ass, horridly singing Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. She really gets into it, jumping and nailing the talking parts a little too well. But she can hear Genya and Zoya screaming the lyrics along with her, and it only encourages her.

Genya records a Snapchat of her performance, snickering to Mal and David about how she’s going to accidentally send it to the asshole Alina dated last year who’s still entirely too obsessed with her.

Nikolai is the only one of the boys drunk enough to sign up, taking the stage after Alina to perform a disgustingly off-key version of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. They all agree that Freddie Mercury is rolling in his grave.

By the end of the night, the four of them are totally wasted. David, who had spent the night nursing one drink, his focus on getting Genya her drinks and ensuring that she didn’t trip over herself, has to help the aforementioned redhead up to their room. Nikolai and Zoya are a sight, both wickedly drunk, trying to help each other stay upright. Mal had only downed a couple drinks and is mostly sober, which Alina is very thankful for, as she can’t hold herself up to save her life. She nearly trips on absolutely nothing so many times that Mal finally scoops her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the room. Alina giggles the whole way.

There’s no getting ready for bed that night. Mal sets her on the bed, and she resigns to sleeping in her red summer dress. When Mal joins her after having a shower, drunk Alina has no qualms curling up against him and sniffing him.

“Mm, you smell good,” she hums.

Mal chuckles even as he tenses. Alina has her arm around him and her face pressed into his side. He’s not sure he can breathe. She’s too drunk to notice the blush on his face.

“That’s probably just because you smell like alcohol,” he hedges.

Alina giggles and shakes her head. “No, you always smell good.”

He doesn’t know what to do with this information, but he does a lot of thinking instead of sleeping as Alina passes out next to him.

Monday morning brings with it a pounding headache for Alina. She prepares for the bright sunlight streaming through the window, but the room is dark when she opens her eyes. Mal isn’t beside her, but he left aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand in addition to pulling out the blackout curtains. She falls in love with him a little bit more.

The day is a quiet one. The girls and Nikolai spend their time at the spa, Mal and David off doing saints know what. She gets the best massage of her life, and while her head still aches despite the pain pill, seeing Nikolai get his toenails painted bright red makes every sip she had last night worth it.

When they’re in the room again after dinner, tucking themselves into bed, Mal says, “You told me I smell good last night.”

Alina pauses. “I did?”

The night comes back to her. She totally told him he smelled good, and she had closed the space between them on the bed, curling up right next to him. She remembers all of it, suddenly and painfully.

“Oh, saints. Mal, I’m so sorry. I didn’t . . . I shouldn’t have—”

He cuts her off. “It’s okay, ‘Lina. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

Mal smiles an amused smile and leans over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “No, you don’t. Not you. Never you.”

Alina is almost positive she can hear her heart pounding as Mal reaches for something tucked in the drawer of his nightstand.

“For you,” he says, handing her a long rectangular box. “Saw it today when I was out with David and I just— I thought of you.”

She can’t even process the image of Mal and David out shopping together, needing to open this damn box. With shaky fingers, she lifts the lid. Waiting for her inside is a dainty necklace with a gorgeous gold sun charm.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Mal blushes, and this time, Alina notices. “Do you like it?” he asks. “I just thought of you singing last night when I saw it. You’re so bright, Alina. All the time. Just like the sun.”

She has no idea what this confession means, or how she earned it from drunkenly telling him how good he smells — which his really quite good — but her heart has kicked into overdrive. She isn’t sure what, or how, but she knows something’s starting right now.

“I love it, Mal.” She turns so her back is facing him and hands over the necklace. “Will you help me put it on?”

He wraps the chain around her neck. The sun rests perfectly against her heart. She notices every little brush of his fingers against the back of her neck as Mal works the clasp.

When the necklace is secure, they both lay back down, noticeably closer this time. Not as close as last night, but close enough that their arms occasionally brush, close enough that she’ll end up kicking him during the night. Alina sleeps on her right side.

Their trip might be ending tomorrow, but something better was beginning tonight.

#malina #malina fanfic #fanfic #grishaverse fanfic #writing #my writing #THIS IS DAYS LATE BUT I KEPT STARTING THIS OVER BC I WASNT HAPPY WITH IT #also tried writing in present tense which i rarely write in so excuse if it's a mess lmao #short and sweet and not my best imo but i hope u still like it bb!!#cuddlingwithharry #if u spot the song reference (besides the obvious) u r superior

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peterprkrsbtch · 3 years

Text

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something. “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.” You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter?

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #avengers #marvel #spiderman #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut

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honeymooneyy · 3 years

Text

Valentine’s Day

context: Remus has been out since the beginning of the year, Sirius realized he likes Remus over winter break, it’s now valentine’s day

James knew it was silly to be upset that Lily had a date for Valentine’s day.

They weren’t dating - they were barely even friends. But watching Benjy Fenwick give Lily a box of pink chocolates during breakfast pulled at his heartstrings and he couldn’t help but sigh. Remus glanced at him before following his gaze towards Lily who was now laughing at something Benjy said.

“Lily didn’t say anything to me about liking Benjy, it might just be a date because it’s Valentine’s day,” Remus comforted, bumping his shoulder against James’. “I can ask her about it later?”

James smiled weakly, “It doesn’t matter, she wouldn’t like me either way.”

“She’s warming up to you!” Peter weighed in from across the table. “She’s your partner in Potions.”

“That was in the beginning of the year, not much has happened since.”

“Maybe next year, mate.” Sirius just shrugged, glancing back at Benjy once more. “I thought he way gay.”

“Sirius!” Remus hissed, glancing around to see if anyone heard. “You can’t just say that!”

Sirius turned to him with wide eyes, “But I thought he was! ‘S not a bad thing, I didn’t know he wasn’t.”

James snorted at their exchange, thankful for their antics as it improved his mood just a touch. Though he had been kidding around, Sirius caught James’ eye in a silent question and he offered him a smile in return.

And though he tried to convince himself he doesn’t really care that much, James couldn’t help but watch as Lily left the Great Hall, her long red hair swishing with every step she took. Benjy was still next to her, and they seemed to be in some sort of intense conversation, but James decided to ignore him, instead focusing on her bright smile. As long as she was happy.

Thankfully, Valentine’s day had fallen on a Saturday this year - so James could go to his dorm and not sulk instead of watching couples make out in every class. Deep down, he was glad none of his friends had dates, they could all be lonely together.

Even though Sirius and Remus had been hopelessly pining, he knew they wouldn’t resort to making out in the dorm, so he was safe. And Peter, he knew he could always count on Peter to be mindful about stuff like that, even if he had no one to kiss.

He had totally not been moping on his bed after dinner when Peter plopped down on the foot of his bed with a grin.

When Peter didn’t say anything he asked, “What’s up, Pete?”

“I know you’re sad, or not sad, or whatever. But that doesn’t mean we have to do nothing today! Remus had an idea, wanna hear it?” Peter asked hopefully, blue eyes twinkling.

James couldn’t say no to him. “What is it?”

“So you know that passageway that leads to Honeydukes? We were thinking of sneaking out and getting some fun stuff!” Peter waggled his eyebrows. “Like firewhiskey fun?”

James brightened at the idea, “I like the direction this is going in. We going now?”

Peter shrugged, “It only really takes two of us to make the trip. It’s easy for me to sneak in and get what we need, and someone to help carry it back. Remus volunteered.”

James narrowed his eyes at this, leaning back to rest on his palms. “Why are you even asking me, sounds like you’ve got it all figured out?”

“We knew you’d agree,” Peter assured, patting his shoulder and scrambling off the bed. “I think Sirius is heading back, we’ll be back soon!”

True to his word, as Peter left the dorm, Sirius slipped in. In his arms were various different snacks for the night, and James smiled at the sight of his favorites. He helped Sirius lay them out on the floor, almost like a little picnic, sorting them out by each item.

“Is this all because Lily has a date with someone else? I promise I’m not that hung up over it, we’re barely friends and it’s just a silly crush.”

Sirius just laughed, tossing his dark hair over his shoulder. “Nah, we wanted to have some fun. Who knows what we’ll be doing for Valentine’s day next year. We ought to spend it with each other while we still can.”

“And?”

“Okay, and you looked downright miserable. Merlin, you’re whipped for Lily,” Sirius caved in despite the smile playing at his lips. He went back to arranging the snacks, shaking the hair out of his eyes.

“Says you,” James prodded back at him. “Oh Moony, I love your vinyls, of course I’ll sing to you.”

Sirius cheeks burned red at his words, “I thought you were asleep, you wanker. He was sad and tired and in pain, I was being a good friend.”

“Right, because I sing to you in French when you’re sad?”

“Why are we talking about me, what happened to Lily? You never had a problem talking about her for hours and hours and hours before.”

“Exactly, we’ve heard enough about Lily. Anything new about Remus?” James propped up his face on his palm, watching Sirius.

“I dunno. He’s still gay, I think that’s good,” Sirius started, obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. “He’s not hanging out with a guy for Valentine’s day.”

“You are so bad at this,” James groans at the lack of juicy information.

“I’m sorry I don’t want to talk to you about boys!” Sirius exclaims. “Can’t exactly tell you about his looks and stuff.”

“I have eyes. Remus is attractive,” James nods motivatingly. “C’mon, just tell me, I wanna know.”

“Fine.” Sirius pauses, collecting his thoughts before chewing on his lower lip. “This is weird, but he’s gotten a lot more attractive since I realized I liked him. Like, he’s always been hot, ugh it’s so weird to say that out loud, but I dunno it’s different now. Maybe he’s always been like this and I just didn’t think about it?”

“Mmhm.”

“I noticed he blushes a lot nowadays. I can’t tell if it’s because of me or if it’s just something he always used to do and I didn’t realize,” Sirius murmured before mirroring James and leaning his face against his palms. “It’s really cute though.”

“He doesn’t blush around me,” James smiled suggestively. “Maybe it’s something he only does around you.”

Sirius didn’t really know what to say to that and kind of just stared at him before shrugging. “Blushing doesn’t mean he likes me. I mean, in the end, he’s my best friend. Anything I look into could be normal. I mean, you and I sleep in the same bed a lot, so what’s different about Remus and I doing it.”

“I don’t sing to you in french, and he doesn’t read to me when I can’t sleep,” James reminds him with a pointed stare.

“Oh my god, back at it with the singing? He said he liked it and it was after the moon, it wasn’t like that.”

“You were in his bed with him and were singing to him.” James enunciates every word. “Are you blind?”

Sirius swiped at his glasses, effectively knocking them off his head. “Says you!”

Huffing, James grabs for his glasses and puts them back on, pushing back his dark hair. “Not fair. That was dirty.”

“Oh hush, you drama queen.” Sirius rolls his eyes but it’s all in good fun. “Okay, I talked about Remus, now you tell me whatever it is about Lily that’s bugging you.”

James finally gave in to his best friend. “Okay fine. I thought things were going okay, y’know? Like, she wanted to be my Potions partner at the beginning of the year. And I tried not to be overbearing or anything and I dunno, I thought we were kinda friends? And then she kind of just stopped?”

“Stopped?”

“Like, she doesn’t ignore me. But she doesn’t seem much interested anymore. In being friends, I gave up on the whole dating thing for now. And then Benjy just comes in and they hit it off like right away. Kind of hurt, I dunno.”

Sirius ponders what he said, nodding a bit. “I’m not sure, honestly, girls are kind of confusing. Moony’s really good with it, Peter too, his advice is the best. Maybe you can ask them when they’re back? There’s gotta be a reason, I don’t think she’d just shut you out for no reason.”

“I guess,” James agrees, but he doubts they can say anything to make this situation better. Either way she doesn’t want to be his friend.

Remus and Peter worked fast, because soon enough they were back with armfuls of drinks. Not all of them were alcohol, and James spotted a couple butterbeers in the mix. The weirdest though was this bright pink bottle Remus had tucked in the fold of his arm.

“Did you get a love potion?” Sirius questioned, jumping to his feet to inspect the bottle.

“No, it’s just a normal drink.”

“But it’s pink!” Peter chipped in, enthusiastically. “Isn’t the bottle cool?”

James smiled at his excitement, “Yeah, it’s cool, Pete.”

Soon enough they had all sorted out the drinks and food and were lounging about the floor. A game of truth or dare had started up only to be shot down because there wasn’t much the boys wanted to know about one another for the truths. This time, there was more than one bottle of firewhiskey so the boys each had one, and it was working wonders.

Peter had been telling some story when he ended up mentioning Lily, before turning to James with a sheepish smile, “Sorry, mate.”

“You guys are horrible,” James groaned. “Acting like we just got divorced or something. I’m fine!”

Remus shrugged, “It’s okay not to be fine. You’ve liked her forever, it hurts.”

James felt as if he wasn’t just talking about Lily but didn’t say much about it. Instead he spilled the thought that’s nagging at him for the past couple days.

“Do you think it’s because I’m-” James gestured to his face.

The boys exchanged looks, ones filled with clear confusion.

“You’re not ugly,” Peter finally spoke up, though his statement sounded more like a question.”

“No, I know I’m not ugly,” James blew a breath out, dropping his head back against the footboard of the bed he was leaning against. “I meant that I’m not white.”

A hush fell over the group at his words.

“I’m not saying she’s racist, or something,” James rushed to add in. “But I dunno, sometimes I think she’d give me a chance if I wasn’t brown.”

“I don’t think it’s your race, more you being a prat,” Remus assured him. “I don’t think Lily cares about that sort of stuff.”

James’ voice seemed small when he spoke, “Every guy she’s ever liked or been with was white. It doesn’t matter how attractive I am.”

Sirius had scooted over next to him and threw an arm over his shoulder, squeezing his arm. “I think you’re overthinking this a bit. I mean, Mary’s black and they’re friends!”

“Yeah, well she’s not going to date Mary, is she?” James shrugged off Sirius’ arm. “I’m not overthinking this. Tons of people don’t like people like me, it’s just a fact. I can’t ignore it.”

Peter who had been quiet this whole time finally spoke up. “If she doesn’t like you because of your skin color, then you’re not missing out. Lily’s awesome, but she doesn’t deserve you, if that’s why.”

“See! Peter always has good advice about stuff like this!” Sirius points out, bumping his shoulder against James’.

“I guess.” James just shrugged, eager to change the subject. “Anything new with you, Peter?”

He began another story about something he overheard some fourth years talking about, and while James tried his hardest to listen, the alcohol and time weren’t on his side. At first, he decided that lying down and listening to Peter might make it easier, but it did the opposite. WIthin minutes his eyes had slid shut, face nestled in the crook of his arm.

“Did he just fall asleep in the middle of my story?” Peter asked, thoroughly baffled. He leaned forward and was about to prod his forehead when Remus smacked his hand away.

“Let him be. He’s having his own problems, let him sleep.”

Peter agreed wordlessly, and Sirius scooted further away to not wake him up while talking.

“Remus, you got an eye on anyone?” Peter asked, turning his attention towards him. “I haven’t heard you mention anyone.”

Remus just shrugged wordlessly, and Sirius scanned his face for any signs of him lying.

“No one?” Sirius questioned, his eyes zeroing in on the way Remus was fidgeting with the edge of his sweater.

“Nah, no one. I promise,” Remus assured, raising his eyes to Sirius’. Sirius didn’t pull his away, silently challenging him. They stared for a solid thirty seconds before Remus broke it off, instead glancing at Peter.

“What about you Peter? How’s your love life going?”

Sirius tried his best to look at Peter but everytime he closed his eyes he could envision Remus’ warm eyes boring into his one, an eyebrow raised challengingly. Drunk Remus had a lot more confidence than sober Remus. As Peter began talking, Remus shimmied around before ending up lying on the floor with an arm behind his head, eyes trained on Peter.

“Sometimes, I think I’ll never get my first kiss,” Peter sighed, pursing his lips. “It’s already fifth year, and I’ve never kissed anyone. I feel like it’s even more embarrassing the longer I go without it.”

“James didn’t kiss anyone till Halloween,” Sirius supplied, trying to comfort him but it had no effect. “I don’t think it matters.”

“But he kissed someone! What if I never kiss anyone, ever?” Peter covered his face with his hands with a groan. “I’m going to be seventy and still waiting for my first kiss.”

“I’ll kiss you,” Remus offered nonchalantly, sitting up. “I’m good at kissing.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he shook his head furiously, “N-no. Gay people are cool and all, but I’m not gay. No offense.”

Remus snorted at the fact that he was apologizing for being straight. “Kissing a boy doesn’t make you gay. Think of it as practice so you don’t embarrass yourself when you kiss a girl you like.”

Sirius looked between the two of them incredulously, “Peter, you’re not actually considering this are you?”

Peter chewed on his bottom lip, contemplating it. “Er, I mean, it would be fast right? And no one would really know…”

“That’s the spirit!” Remus grinned, seeming way too happy to help. He sat up properly, shifting around to perch on his heels.

“No tongue, okay?” Peter looked awfully scared, but he crawled closer to Remus. “And do it really fast.”

“Quit acting like you’re getting a shot,” Remus rolled his eyes before leaning in to place his lips on Peter’s.

Remus didn’t touch Peter’s face or anything, but he did put a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. He didn’t use tongue, but it definitely wasn’t a quick kiss. Sirius hated the way he couldn’t look away from the two of them, and honestly wasn’t quite sure what to feel - on one hand, it was the hottest thing he’s ever seen, on the other hand, he wished it was him who Remus was kissing.

When Remus pulled away, he was smirking, looking very proud of himself. Peter was bright red and he leaned back with wide eyes, before returning back to his spot on the floor. He rubbed his lips against each other before shooting Remus a scared look again.

“I think some of his gay rubbed off on me,” Peter whispered, a blush still painting his cheeks.

Even Sirius had to laugh at this.

“What, was it that good?” Remus quirked an eyebrow, and his whole composure about it was so attractive - the way he had been so confident about his skills and how he had taken charge and, Merlin, the way he smirked afterward. Sirius couldn’t pull his eyes away, and then Remus was turning to look at him, catching his gaze. “You want one too?”

Sirius immediately shook his head, cheeks heating up. “I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. See, Pete, am I not a good kisser?” Remus turned his attention back to Peter who wasn’t quite as red anymore.

“Well, I have nothing to compare it to,” Peter began but at Remus’ glare he shook his head, “Er, yeah. You are.”

Remus grinned triumphantly, lying down on his back again with his hands crossed behind his head. The position flexed his arms and Sirius was once again staring. He knew he was being painfully obvious, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Remus was so attractive he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t do this.

Peter broke the silence, “I think I’m going to bed. Should we just leave James there?”

The three glanced at James who was sprawled on the floor snoring.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna carry him into his bed,” Sirius decided, leaning over to pluck James’ glasses off his face. He folded them up and set them on the nearest table.

“Cool, night guys,” Peter mumbled, stumbling over to his bed and shutting the curtains as the boys echoed him.

Remus made no move to get up so Sirius nudged his leg with his foot. When he didn’t reply, Sirius crawled over to his side, “Hellooo.”

This time Remus just hummed sleepily so Sirius layed down onto the floor next to him, stretching out to stretch a bit. The plush carpet of the floor welcomed Sirius and he let out a content sigh at how comfortable the position was, no wonder Remus didn’t want to get up. Barely a minute passed before he grew bored, and turned on his side to face Remus, propping up his head on his hand. His dark hair fell into his eyes and he wrinkled his nose at it, as if it would help.

“Stop staring at me,” Remus mumbled without opening an eye.

Sirius scowled at this. “You can’t even see me. How do you know if I’m staring or not?”

“Magic.”

“Oh, shove off,” Sirius groaned, smacking Remus’ shoulder causing him to laugh.

His laugh was soft as to not wake up the others, including James who was barely feet away from them, but was still joyful and it made Sirius smile. Remus’ face relaxed as he quieted down and he looked so utterly content that Sirius wished he could take a photo. It wasn’t often that he got to witness Remus so carefree and just simply existing, and Sirius reveled in it.

“You’re still staring,” Remus reminded, a cocky smile pulling at his lips that made Sirius’ stomach flip. “Something on my face?”

Sirius couldn’t be bothered to deny it, instead he brushed a finger against Remus’ cheekbone. “Freckles.”

Usually Remus’ freckles faded as the cold crept in and would’ve been long gone by a normal February. Yet somehow, they had reappeared, lighter than in summer but still present, dusting his cheeks and nose.

Remus hummed, “We took a trip to Spain over winter break and I found a spell to stop the fading.”

At his words Sirius realized that he hadn’t been this close to Remus since long before winter break and that it had taken him a month and half to notice. Despite the fact that it took him so long, he loved them. Remus’ freckles were one of his favorite features about him, and to have them all year long made his smile grow.

“They’re like constellations,” Sirius mused, letting his finger drift from Remus’ nose to his temple. Though the effects of the firewhiskey were fading, it still gave him a small confidence boost to even think of reaching out and touching Remus like that. He knew that Remus wouldn’t be so willing to be studied if it wasn’t for the alcohol.

“See yourself?” Remus still had his eyes shut and the dull lighting of the room cast shadows of his eyelashes onto his cheekbones.

Sirius squinted his eyes at the freckles, mentally going through every constellation he knew. He finally arrived at one and traced it out, “There’s Cepheus.”

Remus didn’t flinch back but his eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Sirius, pupils blown out to adjust to the lack of light. Sirius realized with a start that his finger was absentmindedly tracing Remus’ face still and retracted his hand sheepishly.

“Er, I should get to bed.” Sirius stood abruptly, turning towards his bed to avoid Remus’ eyes. “Night.”

He had just sat down onto his bed and was about to pull the curtains shut when Remus called out his name, having stood up from the floor and hovering near his own bed. But when Sirius turned his questioning stare towards Remus he just swallowed.

“Never mind. Goodnight.”

The exchange was weird and Sirius wanted to ask what he was going to say but decided against it. Something about Remus’ gaze was unnerving, he seemed almost scared?

What could Remus possibly be scared of?

#marauders #marauders era #jily #jily fic #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #valentines day #james potter x lily evans #remus lupin x sirius black

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aquaticstyles · 4 years

Text

unchained

A while ago I was asked for a “Have You Ever Been In Love” sequel, and while this is probably not the direction you guys were expecting, this is what I came up with. Also, this one’s (loosely) inspired by the song “Scott Street” by the lovely Phoebe Bridgers (highly recommend listening to the spotify sessions version while listening). Fun fact, for forever I misheard the lyrics, thinking she was saying “unchained” instead of “ashamed.” After noticing that I have, in fact, been wrong this entire time, I realized I kinda liked my version better (sorry Phoebe). And, me being me, I ran with it and it spun into this quick, 1.4k part two. Reblogs + feedback help so much! Enjoy!! xx, Jane

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry’s heart stops.

The question catches him off guard, and not just because he’s not used to interviewers asking such personal ones (he guesses this is what he signed up for when he agreed to be the first male flying solo on the cover of Vogue). It makes his heart stop because of his answer, because of the woman that had once asked him the same exact question.

Harry has never been one to linger in his sadness; he finds it unproductive, and quite honestly, completely depressing. After a break up, one can find the caramel-colored curls belonging to the world’s latest phenomenon sweating out his sorrow, or frustration, at the gym, pounding the boxing bag again and again and again. “Nothing another set can’t fix,” his trainer, Mike, would often tease the man in denial, knowing good and well by his posture upon entering the ring, slumped shoulders and an ever-present crease between his eyebrows, that another one had bit the dust the night prior. Mike had learned fairly quickly to never ask questions, to simply let Harry work out his emotions as he pleases, even if that means letting him walk out with wrapped fists masking throbbing, crimson knuckles.

Harry has never been one to talk about his sadness either; he finds it prolongs the pain rather than diminishing it, an annoying gnat swarming around an abnormally large bite from a crisp apple, halting his progression in enjoying his afternoon snack because he just can’t catch the bloody thing. His sister has tried to break him from his stubborn ways, even resulting to getting the lanky man drunk off tequila in hopes of him finally opening up about his incessant missed targets; however, that only ever ends up with Gemma’s arms holding up the giggling teddy bear and folding his bulky body into a taxi, mimicking cramming a cotton ball into a straw. Therapy was suggested and waved off with an inked palm, because if he doesn’t want to talk to his sister about it, how on earth is he supposed to talk to a stranger?

Never-ending claims of “I’m fine,” and “It just didn’t work out,” and “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” and “It wasn’t even that serious.” Sure, each breakup took a little something out of the man that insisted he was “fine,” but eventually, a couple dozen inked journal pages later, Harry would be back to his normal, happy-go-lucky, perfectly-kind self.

All of these rang true for most of Harry’s young adulthood.

All of these were common occurrences, that is, until Harry met you.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Selfless, but not in an over-bearing, walk-all-over-me kind of way. Funny, but not in an underlying-hatred, fake-laugh kind of way. Genuine, but not in a look-at-me, fake kind of way. Honest, in a I-want-to-know-everything-that-makes-you-you, ask-you-questions-until-the-sun-rises kind of way. Drop-dead-gorgeous in the most unbelievable, glowing, ethereal, kind of way that he constantly reminded you of. You were the perfect balance, the missing diamond to even out the coal on the other end of the scale.

Loving you felt like the ocean.

In the morning when there’s a hazy screen covering your lenses, clouding the soft sunlight in a muted, white-washed filter. It’s more gray, yet still golden as the shining mass of fire lazily rises from its slumber. It’s calm, clouds stretched apart like cobwebs in the faded blue sky above, waves leisurely, almost too relaxed, crashing along the bleached shore then disappearing back into the horizon. Still sleepy, still new, an entire day ahead of you.

In the afternoon when the sun is at its highest and hottest, radiating down ultraviolet rays that burn your skin, causing alarmingly red shoulders in need of aloe that soon progressively heal and turn into a bronzed exterior. Speckles of light dancing upon excited waves, similar to a neighborhood of children dressed in pink polka dots and orange overalls running towards the ice cream truck filled to the brim with dreams of sugary stomachaches. It’s saturated, every color its brightest and loudest, pops of cerulean and coral. It’s a blanket of comfort, a suffocating scarf. It’s sweet. It’s sour. A cool glass of lemonade sinking into a bed of quicksand. Annoying and astonishing.

In the night, when the yellowing presence is long gone in the awakening of the moon, the deepest indigo swirling in between pockets of stars dotted and flecked into the atmosphere like freckles. It’s black and blue. You don’t know where the earth stopss and the water begins, familiarity lost as the waves erase each new footprint in the sand. The tide is an abuser, sweet as it sings you in, terrifying as it pulls you under. Skinny dipping, vulnerable, exciting, adrenaline, heart thumping, diving, sinking, drowning.

The morning, the afternoon, the night. The happening, the honeymoon, the heartbreak.

Ever since it ended, everything Harry had ever known was cast aside, thrown out like a Gucci jumper from last season. For the first time in his twenty-six years of living, fourteen of those juggling the obstacles that relationships can and will bring, Harry was irreversibly numb, a pair of frozen, gloveless fingertips blue from the icy wind. Not only did he linger in the gut-wrenching grief, he was absorbed by it. Instead of waking up each morning tucked into the bare side of your body diffusing innocent warmth, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee received by hands much smaller than his own, he woke up with a stranger laying on his chest, cold, with a pounding headache the bottle of whiskey had gladly supplied from the night before. The days felt as if they lasted an eternity, time stuck in slow-motion, tick, tick, ticking, one second, one and a half, one and three quarters, two. He watched the seasons pass, the grass dying and regenerating into its natural emerald shade from his bedroom, dust pocketing in the corners of a picture frame containing two pairs of sparkling eyes and genuine, toothy grins sitting on the windowsill. Nights consisted of him lying sleepless on his back, eyes wide awake, thumbs twiddling as the echoes of helicopters overhead drone in and out. Dozens of missed calls remained unanswered: Mum, Gem, Mitch, Mike, Adam, Sarah, Mum, Mum, Gem, Mum, Mike, Mitch, Gem, Mitch, Mum…

He was stuck, a pancake glued to an ungreased pan, charred. It was when this melancholy had prolonged for nearly its sixth month, and all at home remedies (which included drinking, writing, drinking because he was writing, and writing because he was drinking) failed to provide any peace that he decided to give in to the recommendations from almost every single one of his friends: therapy. After the first session, he was ready to book it and sprint off to a deserted island with nothing but a coconut filled with rum to accompany his solitude. Turns out that one session was the mento to his coca cola of bottled-up emotions, exploding months’ worth of buried feelings and memories in an hour. It took the will of God (and Gemma purposefully lying and telling him they were going to get lunch) to get Harry back in the baby-pink-painted interior of his therapist’s office. After months of talking, sorting, compartmentalizing, yelling, crying, healing, unpacking, and reflecting, Harry tackled down the closure he had been chasing. A year and an album later, when he heard your name, he no longer felt trapped, heart beating rapidly, trying desperately to break apart his ribcage, he felt unchained—a prisoner uncaged, pounds and pounds of metal unlocked from his wrists, free.

Before, your name was paired with a colorless photo album, snapshots of vibrancy draining into black and white, frozen, lifeless, still.

Now, your name resembled a film reel of the best moments, your sweater hanging in his closet, your arm thrown around his mother’s shoulder in a polaroid candid, your laugh echoing in the acoustics of his shower after you nearly slipped on the lavender bubbles coating sudsy toes, your hands massaging his scalp, twisting curls into detailed plaits, your foamy lips smushing against a stubbled cheek, leaving remnants of peppermint mocha in the winter air, your satin skirt contrasting from his purple flares in his backyard, playing thumb war and whispering confessions in the moonlight. The good memories built a brick wall to block out the bad, dimming the light of your downfall.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question echoes again in Harry’s ears, causing a grin and a dimple to pop into his cheek. The fuzzies. Once, twice, three times. Click, shake, tape.

“Yeah, I have.”

279 notes · View notes

retroellie · 3 years

Text

The Last of Us Headcannons

Summary: Headcannons about TLOU2 characters

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a bit, I’ve ben stressed so I thought I’d write for my comfort characters lmao

Warnings: Slight NSFW mentions, TLOU2 spoilers

Word count: 2.4K

Ellie

-This girl is the best girlfriend i swear

-She will always tell you she loves you when she leaves or even if she goes into the other room

-She’s lost a lot of people so she’s always telling you how much she loves you just in case

-Helping her when she has nightmares, especially after joel's death

-”Please don’t leave me.”

-“Ellie, I’m not going anywhere.”

-She’s definitely a lover of old music

-80s and early 90s was definitely her favorite eras music and movies wise

-Gifting her records you found in abandoned buildings

-She draws you a lot, especially when you aren’t paying attention

-One time she couldn’t sleep so she drew you, she thought you looked peaceful asleep. That drawing is probably her favorite she’s ever done.

-You basically live with her in the garage she lives in

-Winters are always cold in the garage so y’all are basically attached to each other

-You both are cuddled up watching movies with tons of blankets on

-This girl is horny all the time, like if yall are alone she’s on top of you

-Dancing together at the dances

-This girl is so clingy omfg

-Ellie worries about the looks and comment yall get when showing affection in public so she tends to tone down her clinginess

-Joel loves you, point blank period

-When ellie tells you what joel did for her, you didn’t know if you should be happy or sad

-They were gonna take ellie away from you, you probably would've done the same

-”My life would have mattered.”

-”Your life matters to me.”

-You tried to make her feel better about it though, telling her that there would still be bad people and infected in the world

-Neck kisses from the back, my heart is melting holy shit

-She asks maria to put you on routes with her cause mama you are not going without her

-Puns, just puns all the time and you love it

-Definitely calls you babe and baby, you always make fun of her for it but she knows you loves it

-Yall make fun of each other but it’s all in good fun she will never take it too far

Joel

-You’re this mans baby idc

-No one hurts you or they will get tracked down and their knee caps will be gone

-Joel knows full well you can take care of yourself but he just gets so mad

-This man is so soft for you

-He tries to spoil you the best way he can, going out of his way to get you presents from abandon stores

-Teaches you how to play guitar

-He will have you sit in his lap and play the chords

-”Is it sounding better?”

-He just nods and kisses along your back

-He will sing you to sleep if you ask him

-This man has shown you some good ass music, yall sometimes just lay in bed and listen to old records

-He loves the way you look in his shirts, this man melts or bends you over the kitchen table

-He doesn’t cry often but this man is hurt

-The first time you saw him cry was when he broke down to you about ellie and the fireflies and what he did

-It hurt him a lot to admit it but he was so relieved that he could let go and someone be on his side for once

-Tells you all about sarah and how she would like you

-”She would’ve loved you.”

-”Yeah, casue i’m the coolest.”

-”You're a nerd.” He chuckled out

-He would happily tell you about life before the infection, what it was like to not have to look over your shoulder all the time

-He would never tell you about his time in boston

-He didn’t want to scare you, so you never asked but you had a good idea of what happened because of tommy

-Slow dancing in the kitchen while dinner is on the stove

-Forehead kisses in the morning when he has to leave for rounds and your dead to the world

-Calls you Babygirl and princess, IDK HE JUST SEEMS LIKE THE TYPE OKAY

-His voice in the morning>>>>>>

-Will watch you dance from a far while at dances

-Takes you out on little dates, he doesn’t even care about the stares yall (The age gap)

-He is prepared for anything to happen so he loves you like it’s his last day

-Talks about having kids with you but is okay if you don’t want them, i mean he’s not sure if he wants another one but hell, He said he wasn’t going to date anymore but here we are

-If you want kids he doesn't care hold old he is, he will try and try and try to give you a child

-”Damn it i got my period.”

-”Well then I reckon we gotta try again, huh baby girl.” He says with a smirk

-This man has a daddy kink and that’s all i gotta say about that umm anyways

-He is madly in love with you and he shows it, he has lost too many people and he has the mindset of “Good things don’t last forever”

Tommy

-I love this man with all my heart, he’s my baby

-He’s very caring and will hold you anytime you need to be held

-He just wants to help people and make the world a little easier for them so he overworks himself to the max trying to keep everything in jackson in order

-”Tommy, it’s 3 am and you got rounds in the morning. Come to bed.”

-”Yeah i'll be in there in a minute, i just gotta figure out the food supply situation.”

-Having to drag his ass to bed

-He loves cuddling, he loves feeling close to you

- Your the fighter of the relationship, tommy doesn’t like to fight if he doesn’t have too so he lets you deal with the violent stuff

-Although tommy loves his brother, he has a hard time forgiving him for the violence he exposed him too

-He feels very undeserving of you and everything good in his life., you have to constantly reassure him that he is a good person and is doing a great job

-He does have nightmares of being in Boston but you were always there for him, he was so thankful for you.

-He loves your cooking, like it can be the most simple thing ever and he’d be like

-”This is the best Cereal i have ever had, who taught you to cook like this?”

-He has mommy issues, like his mother wasn’t really around so he has a lot of issues with that ig

-He is the best kisser i said what i said

-He’s very passionate and possessive, it’s cute

-He gives you his jackets all the time, he thinks you look so cute in them

- This man is literally the softest i can’t

-He doesn’t cut his hair just because one time you told him you liked it long

-”Jeez honey, your hair is getting pretty long.”

-”Shoot, do I need to cut it again.”

-”No...I like it long, it flatters your face.”

-”I will literally never touch my hair again ever again now that you said that, Okay”

-You have expanded this mans music taste

-He only ever listened to country cause i mean he’s a simple man but then you came along

-You got him a walkman just so he can listen to the music you recommend him

-He tells ellie all about you and asks her for help because he doesn’t want to mess up anything

-He’s not good in relationships and he believes he’s not a very attractive man so he doesn’t really try but he sees himself marrying you

-Spoiler he asks you to marry him because he can’t see himself without you, he doesn’t want to imagine how the world would be so dark without you in it

-He’s not into cute nicknames so he’ll just call you honey

-After joel's death, he was broken and you didn’t think you can even put him back together, but your willing to try

Dina

-I think you would be dina’s first girlfriend but she would love you with all her heart

-She kissed you at the dance and everything kinda clicked from there

-She would sneak over to you house in the middle of the night

-”Jesus, i could've killed you.”

-”But you didn’t silly, come on i’m cold lemme in.”

-”You're gonna be the death of me dina.”

-Your rounds with her were never boring, it was always an adventure with her

-Making out behind building because she couldn’t wait till yall got home

-This girl will tease you until your bright read in the face

-She will definitely love kissing you, like she will just randomly kiss you

-She will try to smash you literally anywhere, when she’s wanting to do the nasty it doesn’t matter where you are she will pull you into a random room or bathroom

-She never bores you in bed too, she’s always up to do new things especially since your her first girlfriend

-When she found out she was pregnant she wanted to give this child the best life so yall decided to move out into a farmhouse

- Having a kid didn’t really change how she loves you

-She’s still crazy and wild but now she just has a kid on her hip

-You guys were co parents so you both would hunt and take care of JJ

-You guys would do almost anything to make that kid laugh even if that was dancing like lunatics for an hour straight

-You guys almost never get alone time so just laying in bed without the kid felt nice

-Yall are cottagecore lesbians idc, yall are the best parents and i said what i said

-From behind hugs and kisses, she will grab your hips and kiss your neck until you have no choice but to rip her clothes off

-Vintage records and slow dancing with JJ

-I feel like being in a relationship with dina feels like a vintage song about love

-There's lots of dancing in this relationship because dina loves dancing

-She’s always afraid that you will feel left out in the family though since your not JJs real parent but you always tell her you don’t mind and you love JJ just like how Jesse would

-She finds it so hot when your all protective parent when it comes to JJ, as soon as he falls asleep mama yall wont get any sleep

-Yall are the best parents, dina will fight anyone who hurts JJ and you make him feel loved

-When he gets older you guys try to tell him about Jesse without making you seem like the outsider of the family if that makes sense

-Taking care of the animals and plants as a family and reading books about how to while laying in bed

-Dina makes the best food and she tries to teach you but it just doesn’t add up to what she does

-Okay we don’t know much about her sister but by the picture we saw she looks hella cool and i think you would be like best friends with her

Jesse

- yall sleep on this man i swear, so this one is to all my jesse stans are there

-He’s kinky, that’s all

-He knows he’s hot and he’s super cocky about it

-He’s not much of a cuddler ngl but he will fall asleep and wake up spooning you

-Your really close to his mom, like she loves you so much

-He’s very reckless and your kinda the opposite so you kinda tone him down abit so you think that’s why his mom likes you so much

-Jesse isn’t much of a dancer and he doesn’t really listen to music but he does like to play video games

-You always pick him up video games randomly and gets so excited

-You force him to dance with you at dances and he’s so awkward about it

-”I hate this.”

-”Awe you love it.”

-Always trying to grope you while dancing, like will have his hands on your ass and theres kids behind you like sir stoppp but like keep going

-”Hey! watch those hands.”

-”I have no idea what your talking about”

-You and dina are pretty good friends like even after their weird relationship, she’s happy for the both of you

-Okay so let's pretend jesse didn’t die and he is alive and well

-When he finds out dina is pregnant he freaks out, he’s still pretty young so he’s terrified he won’t be good enough

-When the baby comes though he’s so excited, when he’s in the infirmary with dina your happy for him but you can’t help but feel an outsider

-Dina is so sweet and tries to make you feel better

-”You're gonna be the coolest step parent ever. I’m glad my son gets such a badass step mom damn.”

-Dina does move out of jackson still though so yall only get JJ every other week, that was the agreement

-He cooks in the morning for you and JJ while yall are laying in bed

-I’m sorry but he’s literally the coolest dad, his entire life changes because of that kid

-When JJ leaves to go over to his moms house Jesse won’t let you get out of bed, this mf hasn’t got any in a week

-He gets a bunch of cook books so he can better his ability to cook for little JJ

-You guys decorate JJs room together and it’s the cutest thing ever

-He takes you to romantic places in the abandon city when yall are on rounds together

-Jesse has a lot of friends but he would much rather hang out with you

-Yall call each other stupid and dumb a lot but it’s never used as an insult its just for fun

-”Damn it, why do i always get the nasty ones.”

-”Because your stupid, dummy.”

-”That’s right, i forgot.”

-Your guys bed is never made, you guys don’t even bother at this point. Like either the kid messes it up or you guys mess it up so what's the point

-He picks you up when he hugs you, literally pick you up from the waist and lift you up

!Credits to gif owners!

#The last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us x reader #ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #Tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tlou tommy #dina x reader #tlou dina #Tlou dina x reader #tlou jesse

364 notes · View notes

sparklingchan · 4 years

Text

Mischief Managed || Kim Doyoung(NCT)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Doyoung

Word count : 7k+

Warnings : A few cuss words here and there, gets suggestive towards the end, not proof read I’m sorry :(

Genre : Fluff, a hint of angst , romance, Hogwarts au, fake dating au.

Description: You are forced to befriend Kim Doyoung under unexpected circumstances but as two lonely souls meet, you find yourself enjoying his company a little too much.

A/N : I had the idea for this fic while I was travelling but I was too lazy to actually write it until recently. Harry Potter aus just never seem to bore me no matter how many times I write them ( it’s fate at this point XD)

Enjoy!

Doyoung is bad at taking criticism. Not even sulky bad but angry, tantrum throwing bad. He'd rather be slapped than criticized. Metaphorically, of course.

"What do you mean she won't go on a date with me?" Doyoung hisses ,his voice an octave lower than usual. The bedroom consisting of three noisy boys suddenly falls silent at his words. For the first time in forever.

Jaehyun shifts in his place , the soft mattress dipping under his weight. He looks at his friend full of concern. "Look , you're not the only person trying to ask her out. I heard that some Gryffindor boys were trying to shoot their shot this morning. And that's just the beginning."

Doyoung clenches his blanket into his fists, "Claire is mine. They can't have her."

Johnny scoffs from his bed , his eyes never leaving the book he had been reading from the past one week, "Are you sure the sorting hat did a good job by putting you into Ravenclaw? That pride of yours sure does sound like Slytherin to me."

"Oh shut up. That's not even the point right now. I need Claire to go on a date with me. It's not a matter of interest anymore, it's a matter of pride. I will not back down just because there's competition." Doyoung shoots back.

The boys' room erupts with Johnny and Jaehyun's laughter, their beds shaking with vibrations and their voices probably disturbing the people sitting outside in the Ravenclaw common room. But it's been a long time since either of them have cared for what other people say. Ever since the three boys met on the Hogwarts Express six years ago , they've been inseparable, finding a home , a family in each other. And as time passes by, they're only formulating a stronger bond , unbeknown to the rest of the world.

By the time Jaehyun and Johnny come down from their laughter high, Doyoung is already throwing a fit , muttering under his breath , and clutching his blanket like his life depended on it. Typical angry Kim Doyoung.

"Everything else is fine, Dodo, but does Claire even know you?" Jaehyun asks, fanning his red face.

"Of course not , Jae. But in the sea of all the other boys ,she'd obviously notice our Doyoung first!"

Doyoung sucks in a deep,frustrated breath, reaching under his pillow to find his wand - Alder Wood, Dragon heartstrings core (11 inch) - his one true best friend.

"Aguamenti." Doyoung murmurs, ponting his wand at them. With a big splashing sound , a stream of water squirts out from the end of the wand , wetting everything that comes in contact with it - including Jaehyun and Johnny and everything else they possess.

That night , as the two boys try to dry themselves and the rest of their belongings, Doyoung stares up at the wooden ceiling, carved beautifully into swirls and waves and flowers ,he wonders why his friends think he wouldn't be able get Claire to go out with him, why did they make it seem so hard when it really wasn't.

His ego feels hurt, injured even. Maybe Johnny is right - maybe Doyoung is more Slytherin than Ravenclaw, but it didn't matter anymore. Because the Slytherin princess Claire would be his by the time Halloween arrives, no matter what and his ego and pride would be restored.

Or at least that is what he had initially planned.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Everyone has that one subject they truly hate with every fiber of their being. They might not be particularly good or bad at it , but they often wonder the significance of this immeasurably disliked subject in their lives. For Doyoung, it is the potions class.

Brewing potions, remembering the recipes, knowing the job of each ingredient seemed too heavy a job for a divination loving man like Doyoung. Potions is way too practical, way too boring.

"Psst, Jae." The class must have been going on for about barely ten minutes when Doyoung decides he's had enough and that he would rather get in trouble for disturbing his friends.

"Jae, I'm bored. Johnny is in quidditch practice too." Doyoung pokes Jaehyun's back with the end of his wand. The latter squirms in his seat, subtle enough to not disturb anyone in the class, who unlike a certain Kim Doyoung were attentively listening to the professor.

"What?" Jaehyun turns back only enough to meet Doyoung's bored gaze.

"I think I'm going to ask Claire out today. During dinner. What do you think?" Doyoung whispers.

Jaehyun shakes his head , putting his quill down on the table, "Are you sure? You guys haven't even talked properly yet."

Doyoung stays silent for a few seconds because yes, Jaehyun is right. He doesn't even know what she likes , where is she from, who her friends are but he is willing to take the risk. For someone as beautiful as Claire, Doyoung would risk the whole world.

"I mean I can try, right?"

There's a sudden scoff escaping from your lips - whose name Doyoung never bothered to ask - sitting next to Jaehyun, the green of your robe hinting at your belongingness to Slytherin. "You're stupid, Kim Doyoung. Claire is not going to go out with you. Especially not when you're being such a creep." You say, your eyes fixed on the professor and your quill writing notes in quick movements.

Creep? Did you just call Doyoung a creep?

"Y/n, it's none of your business." Jaehyun rolls his eyes , "Stay out of it."

"Why? Is Mr.Snowflake here too egoistic to face the truth?" You turn around to look at Doyoung, a smirk finding it's way to your lips.

Doyoung clenches his fists, nibbling at his bottom lip as anger fills him up like water filling up in an empty jar; quick and to the brim.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, " he says, then bitterly adds, "Miss Y/n ,who no one happens to care much about."

The sound of scratching of quills and quiet mutter of spells fills the air for a few seconds before you say something.

"I'm not giving you my opinion, it's just an advice. From first hand experiences. Many men have tried to win Claire over yet only a few of them have ever succeeded. " you say, "And boys like you often tend to seek her only because she's good looking so she actively makes sure to avoid your kind. ,"

Jaehyun looks at you ,stunned, "How do you know all that? Are you guys friends?"

Doyoung is not sure what to say anymore - he's as confused as Jaehyun is, maybe a tad bit more. For someone he'd properly talked to for the first time today, you sure do have a lot to say about his personal choices and ambitions. Big words do not faze him anymore.

"No , we're not friends." You giggle, "I'm her cousin. You almost couldn't tell, right?"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"It's finally Hogsmade weekend again. I thought I was going to suffocate in that stupid common room of ours." Johnny sighs , waddling towards his bed and slumping down like a little boy.

"Yes, I also need a cup of butter beer the first thing we arrive there." Jaehyun says, "What about you, Dodo?"

Dodo ,on the other hand is far too gone in the sea of his thoughts to pay heed to what his friends have to say. His eyes are on the patterns of the ceiling but his mind is with Claire and mostly with you, who he unintentionally might have offended today during potions class. Doyoung didn't have any particular interest in you per se but as Claire's cousin, it is important for Doyoung to be accepted by you first. You might be a know-it-all ,annoying and ghostly but he needs to befriend you again, start everything from scratch. And who knows ,if he got lucky enough, you'd put in a word or two on his behalf to Claire.

"What's he thinking about?" Johnny whispers to Jaehyun, "Did something happen?"

Jaehyun shrugs, "Usually, I'd say he's thinking about Claire but today,I'm not so sure."

The next morning is as noisy as all of their Hogsmade mornings have been. Doyoung only remembers hearing Jaehyun's yells and Johnny's giggles and the Hufflepuff girls singing a beautiful Winter song on the journey to Hogsmade village.

No matter how hectic it is, he has always liked these weekends the best.

"Have they changed their services to self service or what?" Johnny asks ,tapping the marble surface of the table in the Three Broomsticks, "Where's Madam Rosmerta?"

Doyoung shrugs ,his eyes scanning the unusually quiet room. He realises that the only company they have is the empty chairs and tables and the flying bottles of water emptying themselves into small glasses. "Should we just grab our drinks and put the money on the counter?" Jaehyun offers.

Before either of them could answer, the main door of the room slams open, urgent with force and the three boys see you rush inside, panting and huffing and murmuring. Your hair is messy and your clothes are disheveled, yet Doyoung thinks you look...different. Different from what you look like at school at least. Better ,even.

"I'm sorry I'm late. We weren't expecting guests so early. I hope I-" you stop mid sentence when you realize Doyoung and the other two boys were the only ones in the pub, "Oh. It's just you three."

"Yes,y/n, it's just us. Can you get us three butterbeers please?" Jaehyun says.

You sigh with disappointment. A 'hi, y/n, how are you?' would have been nice but then again when has anyone ever bothered to greet you with so much sweetness? Jaehyun and you are study partners , to say in a way. You never bothered to befriend him and he never bothered to do the same so that's just how its been since first year - studying together in the library and pretending the other person doesn't exist under normal circumstances. You liked it that way but sometimes, just sometimes you did wish Jaehyun tried to treat you in a more friendly way.

"What's she doing here?" Doyoung ,who is genuinely taken aback by your presence, asks.

"She works part time here. Madam Rosmerta is a family friend of hers." Jaehyun answers.

If Madam Rosmerta is a family friend of yours then she must be a family friend of Claire too, Doyoung connects in his head, and Claire's name somehow ignites a fire of enthusiasm within him.

He drags his chair across the floor and gets up , walking toward the counter where you're working. A little nervous Doyoung is , but he still manages to start a conversation with you, "Hey, y/n ,right?"

You swiftly twirl your wand around in the air , and ten cups of butterbeer and gillyweed water present themselves on a tray. You turn away from him to clean up the other plates , "What do you need?"

"I um..wanted to apologize for the insensitive comment I made yesterday. We started off on the wrong foot, I'm really sorry." He says, rubbing the back of his neck. Autumn is starting to set in slowly, but Doyoung feels the sweat sticking to his skin as if it were a hot summer morning.

You pause for a second. What was he apologizing for? You honestly couldn't recall and whatever it might have been, you are sure that it wasn't worse than what your other classmate have said before ; which is why you don't remember Doyoung's supposed insensitive comment.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, " You say, "I've had worse, actually."

Doyoung's heart drops - there is no phrase more pain inducing than the one you'd just spewed out so carelessly. And for some god forbidden reason, Claire suddenly slips out of his conscience mind.

"No, no. I want to start anew. Be your friend." Doyoung insists, leaning against the cold wooden counter.

You sigh, "Are you sure that's what your intention is? Because I don't think so. "

Doyoung scowls, "Of course that's my intention. What else would it be, y/n?"

You swing your wand and three glasses of butterbeer arrive directly in front of him. His eyes widen for a split second but he bounces back quickly.

"Just say that you need help with Claire." You sigh.

Oh,right ,Claire. Shit how could I forget? Doyoung feels silly.

"I mean...in a way yes. But that's for the later part. Let's first be friends, yeah?"

You shake your head , "If I help you out with Claire ,will you stop trying to be my friend?"

You absolutely despise yourself at times like these - when you are trying so hard to push people away when they're only trying to befriend you (for whatever reason it might be). You're so lonely yet so afraid of attachments that you always tend to do this. The same repeated routine. You hate it. You sometimes wonder what it would feel like to be in Claire's place, to be loved by everyone, to have people lining up just to take you out on one date . But it would never happen, because Claire is Claire : the Slytherin Princess and you are just you..someone who has barely ever talked to more than one person at school.

Doyoung gulps and then nods, "Okay. I will." Because befriending a Slytherin outcast will never be more important than scoring a date with the Slytherin Princess.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The Hogwarts Library is most empty during noon, something which you've concluded with years of experience and getting shoved out of your seat by your classmates who are way above you on the social ladder.

"So, " Doyoung finds a comfortable seat opposite to you , his hands fiddling with the pages of his diary, " how have you been?"

You give him a tired smile, "Can we get straight to point? I hate casual conversation. "

Doyoung snickers, "Wow, aren't you approachable today."

You lean back into your chair , eyes scanning Doyoung's face for any signs of regret . You'd never been the warm, bright sunshine kind of a person and you have accepted it without much protest. But of course, people take a lot of time to grow used to your sharpness and more often than not, people walk away even before you soften around them. It's a survival mechanism, you always convince yourself.

"What do you want help with? Do you want to know about her interests or past relationships or something else ?"

Doyoung pouts, his mind filling up with all sorts of ideas to impress Claire. It's like he's hit a jackpot by meeting you.

"I want to know what I have to do to gain Claire's interest. Be her friend and then eventually, a boyfriend, if I'm lucky enough." He suggests.

"First of all ,you need to stop gawking at her from afar. You need to start conversations with her ,no matter how short. She likes it when people approach her first." Talk about having a big ass ego.

"Okay, noted." One quick wave of his hand and his quill is immediately noting down sentences in his diary, " You seem to know her quite well. You guys are close, I am assuming."

You and Claire used to be close. Used to. In the past tense. As children you were inseparable, but as you slowly grew up, she realised how boring and uncool you were and that you belong to the shadows while she belongs in the spotlight. She's not tried to talk to you first for a long time now. But you weren't about to explain all of this to Doyoung, who is visibly smitten by your estranged cousin so you just shake your head , "No, not anymore."

Your ears perk up at the unexpected sound of approaching footsteps towards you and before you could ask Doyoung to relocate to a more secluded area, you hear her loud and clear voice.

Claire.

"Oh, hey, Doyoung!" She greets the man in front of you, walking upto his side. Her shiny shoes creating a tip-tap noise against the floor, and the green of your robe almost feels dull as compared to her bright one.

When her eyes fall on you, her mouths twists as if she had one of those stupid vomit flavored chocolates. "What are you doing here, y/n?" She sneers at you.

If you could ever get a hold of the invisibility cloak, the first thing you'd do is slap this bitch right across her face. She has always had this sense of superiority , even when she's never done anything quite as heroic or deserving of that fame. And it infuriates you even further when you see Doyoung freeze in his seat, eyes glued to Claire's face.

"We were studying. I was about to leave now anyway." You mumble , gathering your books and tucking them under your arm.

When Doyoung hears your chair drag across the floor , he snaps out of his trance.

Why were you leaving? You promised you'd help, why couldn't you put away your past tensions and deal with it?

"Hey, where are you going?" He grabs your arm out of the blue, sending a wave of shock jolting through your body.

You immediately pull your hand back, "I'm hungry. I want to eat something."

Claire glares at the two of you and how suspicious your behavior is , you'd always been weird but she never took Doyoung for the weird kind at all.

You quickly jog away from the scene , cheeks tinted red.

Doyoung suddenly comes with a horrendous idea and he knows you'd hate it but in the heat of the moment, this feels like the only sane idea to make you stay and help him . He looks at Claire directly in the eye ,making sure to keep his voice as loud as possible so you could hear it too,

"Y/n and I are dating."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The red, orange leaves rustle under your feet , disrupting the otherwise silent walk back to the Slytherin dormitories. A cold wind blows and you tighten the muffler around your neck.

"Y/n, I've been looking everywhere for you. "

And there is that leech again, making sure you don't come to have a single second of peace in your already hectic daily lives. For the past one week, Kim Doyoung has latched himself onto you like a leech latches to it's host. Wherever you go, he goes. It's maddening.

"I told you to stay away from me, Doyoung! Our deal is over. " you yell at him , your feet picking up a faster pace.

Without even looking back, you know that he is groaning under his breath, the look of hopelessness evident in his otherwise sparkling eyes.

"Our deal was that you help me. You're not helping me out at all! You're treating me like I'm invisible." he replies.

Just how I'd been invisible for years to you, you think.

"I didn't agree to be a bait in this stupid love game of yours. You literally pushed me down the cliff to save yourself. " you say. You feel a sudden gush of wind on your face and Doyoung is standing right in front of you - inches away, instead of a few feet behind you.

You gasp, "You apparated! Kim Doyoung, this is against the school rules."

Doyoung bites down on his lower lip, throat growing dry with anxiousness. He couldn't explain why - he'd apparated before within the school grounds and it's been okay then why is he feeling dizzy all of a sudden? But on second thoughts, maybe it wasn't the apparition that caused the dizziness, maybe it was the spooky possibility of you hating him for lying about you two dating that triggered it. And like salt dissolves in water and disappears into the liquid, Claire- who is the original cause of all of Doyoung 's concern, disappears from his thoughts. All that matters to him now is that you speak with him again and forgive him for his impulsive words . He wants to assure you that you aren't a bait , at all.

"Just hear me out, please. I promise. " he says, "if you don't talk to me, I'll try to be your friend. I assume you don't want that."

You sigh , pressing a hand to your face, "Okay, spill. And be quick. I have club work."

Doyoung nods, a small smile forming on his lips. He leads you under a bushy tree nearby, sitting down on the stone bench constructed there. You follow suit. "I'm sorry for telling Claire that we're dating but I was in a critical situation at that time, okay?"

You frown, "That's all you had to say? You aren't here to persuade me into fake dating you so you could make Claire jealous?"

Gosh , Doyoung , why do you keep forgetting your main motive of talking to y/n?

He blinks at you awkwardly, "Primarily, yes. But now that you've said it...it does sound like a good idea. "

You deadpan. Your eyes close as your lips heave out a tired sigh. Just when you thought he was here to actually talk to you and not about Claire.

"Fine ,whatever. Just don't be a creep or I'll bury you alive." You huff.

Doyoung giggles as his eyes curve into cute little cresent moons.He has a pretty smile , you catch yourself thinking.

He scoots over closer to you ,pinching your cheek. "Okay ,madam. I won't creep you out but I cannot guarantee that I won't flirt with you . I have a thing for Slytherin girls, you know.", He winks.

Your cheeks heat up involuntarily.

"Bye. I have work." You get up, walking away hastily.

"Bye! See you tomorrow at The Three Broomsticks," he calls out behind you,"Babe."

You'd never smiled so wide in your life.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Your part time job at The Three Broomsticks has never felt so much like a blessing than right now - when Kim Doyoung casually sits on the floor with you and helps clean the utensils.

"Are guests rare on weekends?" Hs asks as a white cloth floats around in the air, drying up the freshly washed utensils.

"They're less in the morning but it gets very crowded by sun down. Aunt Rosmerta joins me by that time." You reply.

Doyoung nods ,his eyes glaring at the white cloth when it falls at his feet. "Wingardium Leviosa. " he mutters and the cloth goes back to doing its work, while Doyoung carefully guides it using his wand.

"When do you have to go back?" You ask, purely out of curiosity as to why he is so into the role of your boyfriend when no one is even watching. You would rather die than admit it , but you liked this attention. A lot more than you thought you would.

"Whenever you're done. A good boyfriend accompanies his girlfriend ,right?"

Oh, the beating of your heart that suddenly picks up its speed at his words. A combination of words you'd never thought you'd hear in this lifetime, from anyone at all.

"Yeah,whatever. " you whisper under your breath.

Doyoung giggles ,leaning forward toward you , "Why are so shy ,y/n?"

"I'm not shy." You smack his forehead, "You're just being a creep."

Doyoung fake gasps, clutching the left side of his chest and blinks his eyes as if he were tearing up. "Ouch ,y/n,how could you say that to your own boyfriend?"

You roll your eyes but the smile on your lips doesn't disappear.

Before either of you could reply , the door of the pub clicks open and you immediately get up , dusting off your clothes , ready to welcome guests. Doyoung, who is very new to this , tries to mimic your careful, calculated actions.

"Hello, welcome to the Three Broomsticks-" your words are cut off when you see Claire , as glamorous and confident as ever, walking toward the both of you. Your heart sinks. You feel betrayed , annoyed even ; just the way little children feel when their favorite toy is taken away from them and given to someone else and Claire has, in fact, had a history of taking away a lot of your favorite toys when you were kids.

"Good morning, Doyoung," she greets him with the prettiest smile but it fades away as she turns to you, "You too ,y/n."

"What do you want?" You ask her, rather terse in tone.

She tilts her head , her bright red tinted lips sending a flirty smile in Doyoung's direction, "I'm here to see my friend Doyoung and well ,his new girlfriend. "

You scoff - since when has Doyoung become her friend? Last you checked, Doyoung wasn't even sure she knew him.

"Since when have you and Doyoung been friends, Claire? That's some news to me." You say.

Claire glares at you, "Well, I've always liked Doyoung. Too bad a dumb girl like you got to him first. I shouldn't have waited for him to approach me first , right?"

Doyoung - who until a minute ago was genuinely mesmerized by Claire's unexpected visit is now turning to frown at her. "You can take him if you want. I don't mind." You suggest ,turning away from them.

"Yayy, Doyoung ,you heard your girlfriend? Come on , let's go to the candy shop and enjoy there! It'd be so much fun!" Claire pulls at his blue-black muffler. He backs away a little. The image of Claire he had in his head was ..well, different from this arrogant , possessive woman in front of him. He feels disappointed but also relieved?

"Um - actually I'd rather stay here and help y/n, " you snap toward him faster than light , "I dislike candies anyway. Sorry, Claire."

When Claire's mouth gapes with surprise, Doyoung leans backward and pulls you into him , arm wrapped around your shoulder and chin resting on your head. Your heart hammers hard against your chest as all your senses blur away , only the feeling of Doyoung's warm body pressed against yours is what keeps you grounded to reality.

Its fake, y/n , get yourself together.

"Fine. " Claire growls and stomps away, mumbling curses under her breath.

The moment she walks out of the door ,you shove Doyoung away , "What the hell are you doing! She invited you to hang out with her and you let the chance go!"

He blinks at you , puzzled as if he is finally coming back to his senses. "Oh - oh ,its okay. I'll get another chance since she apparently likes me too. Don't worry about it."

I'm not worrying about it , you idiot , I'm happy about it , you want to say to him. But there are some words you'd rather never say out loud.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Where are we going?" Doyoung huffs , jogging down the lush green hill leading straight to the Forbidden Forest. Fear is evident on his face , and it's rather amusing to see him like this.

"The Forbidden Forest, obviously," you say , pointing at the tall, strong tress that patiently await your arrival into the forest.

"What? Y/n, that's against the school rules. It's way past sun down now!" He hisses but still keeps jogging beside you.

You grin at him, "Says the man who apparates in broad daylight!"

The woods are as cold and spooky as ever , but not unfamiliar. To you atleast. You often come here when you need to get away from everyone else. You would sit at the top of the tallest tree, the soft breeze blowing away all your worries along with it. And the creatures in the forest have never bothered you anyway. You don't know why you are bringing Kim Doyoung - your pretend boyfriend- to a place that holds so much importance to you and is like your escape from the world, but this place was the first and only one to come into your mind the moment Doyoung said you should choose the location for your next 'date'.

"So how do we get up there?" Doyoung and you stand at the roots of the tree. He looks up at the branches in awe and you look at him with admiration - when he's not running his mouth around uselessly everywhere ,he's not that bad to be with , you realize.

"We apparate , you idiot." Wrapping a firm hand around his arm, you apprate to the topmost branch of the tree, the wind suddenly knocked out of your lungs at the sudden shift. You laugh a little.

"Wow, you're breaking rules." He comments. He doesn't bother to remove your hand from his and neither do you - so you end up sitting there , shoulders touching and breaths matching.

"You know when I first met you , I almost took you for a Ravenclaw. If it hadn't been for your robe, that is." He says , looking at the beautifully lit school building that seems to be floating around near the horizon. This is more magical than any magic he's ever been taught , he thinks , he'd never seen Hogwarts this way - so far away yet so close, so peaceful, so breathtaking. The starry sky acts like a beautiful backdrop and your soft hand wrapped around his arm makes him ten times more attentive to every sound and every sight. He wants you to never let go - even if Claire or anyone else somehow appears out of nowhere.

"I get that a lot, actually. " you chuckle , "and ironically ,I almost mistook you for a Slytherin."

Doyoung looks at you in amusement. What a peculiar coincidence!

"But now that I think about it, it doesn't matter what kind of traits you show. The sorting hat doesn't put just traits into consideration- it puts in your will too. You belong where you want to belong. Nowhere else." He replies.

You stare at him, and get embarrassed at how wonderfully close he is to you right now. All your life ,this is what you've craved; this warmth , this closeness and fake or not, you're thankful for it.

"Wow, that's some deep words, Kim Doyoung. I didn't know you had them in you." You comment.

"Hey, why can't you call me something cute?" He whines , "Kim Doyoung is too formal."

You pinch his cheeks, adoration pumping through your veins for the man in front of you. "Okay, I'll call you Dodo then. "

He is left wide eyed again, his face red with embarrassment. He never took you for the observant type at all.

"I heard Jaehyun call you that."

The moon shines at your face , highlighting your features like no make up ever could. He notices your hooded gaze and the happy stretch of your lips and the strands of hair that sway with the wind. He leans in closer , "Hey, now that I look at you up close , you're not that bad to look at."

You're not that bad to look at either, Dodo.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Jaehyun has this annoying habit of tapping his wand against the table when he is studying , and he has never even tried to rectify himself whenever you call him out several times.

"Can you stop that? I'm trying to study. " you groan in a quiet voice.

The library- much to your dislike - is packed with people this afternoon. Yellows and reds and blues and green , all of them seem to have decided to use the library in the afternoon today of all days.

"Yeah. Sorry. " he says and puts his wand down, flipping the pages of his notebook carelessly ,"but um -y/n, can I ask you something?"

Looking up from your Potions book , you nod , "Yes, of course. "

Jaehyun shifts and gulps ,visibly worried and anxious about whatever he is about to ask you. It's not like him to ever be so nervous around anyone. He was usually very uptight and spoke only when spoken to. This is very new.

"How long are you and Doyoung going to continue this fake dating thing on for? It's been half a month already." He asks.

Now it's your turn to be nervous.

"I-I don't really know. It depends on how fast Doyoung is able to get Claire to go out with him. I guess." You reply with an awkward laugh, "I hope the day comes soon."

You'd been so immersed in fake dating Doyoung all along, trying to spend every waking hour with him , taking care of him, laughing at his stupid jokes that you almost forgot everything was just a show to get Claire to go out with him. And as Halloween comes closer , you are sure the end of your supposed relationship is coming closer too. Your heart breaks at the sudden reality check. Like a glass vase thrown on a hard ,wooden floor.

"Okay, don't tell Doyoung I asked you about it - " he pauses when you both hear a woman's voice from behind you , startling the two of you.

"Hello, dear cousin. " Claire says with a big smile. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, robe loosely tied around her body,"What are you doing in this stupid library on your birthday, y/n? Shouldn't you be celebrating with Doyoung ?"

Her words have never slapped you as hard as they do right now. She's been mean to you for almost half your life , but this time it hurts worse. You've always been insecure about your birthday, and Claire knows it. She knows how much you hate bringing attention to yourself and you'd rather get some small gifts from your parents than big gifts from people who you barely know. And she's now using all that against you.

"Or did he not bother to ask you, just like all of your former friends?" She smirks.

You know that feeling when there's a small wound on your body and a single contact to the wounded area hurts unbearably? That's what her words made you feel like. Sick and pathetic.

But you don't let it surface on your face. You muster up all your courage before speaking up, "Claire, are you so jealous of me dating Doyoung that you're bringing up past incidents to make yourself feel good?"

Claire is left astonished by your new found boldness and for the first time in forever, she doesn't comment back at you after you turn on your heels and walk away from the scene.

You are far too weak and slow to actually walk down to the Forbidden Forest, so you settle yourself on the top floor of the astronomy tower. The cold ground under you feels weirdly comfortable and the ticking of the grand clock helps you calm down your nerves.

Claire has never treated you like an equal in your entire life and you've tried so hard to ns like her always . To fit in to her ideas of an interesting person. She was your sister, she is your sister yet you've never despised anyone as much as you do now. And to imagine that Kim Doyoung, your Dodo might end up dating her just makes you feel sick to the stomach. Jealousy is an intense feeling but so is hatred.

You hear quick footsteps walking up the stairs and by impulse, you point your wand in that direction,"Expelli-"

"Hey, hey. Don't 'expelliarmus' me. I'm just here to celebrate my best girl's birthday. "

Kim Doyoung stands in front of you , hands occupied with bags of delicious candies and sweets. He smiles at you sheepishly as you call him over to sit beside you.

"Why didn't you tell me its your birthday today? This is all I could manage in a span of fifteen minutes." He complains ,placing the bag softly in your lap, "Happy birthday, y/n."

You smile , a little embarrassed but thankful still , "Thanks. Jaehyun told you?"

Doyoung nods ,scooting over closer to you. In presence of so much space on the floor, he somehow manages to almost cuddle with you in a small corner of the place. Your heart is no longer sitting in the cage of your chest ; it's escaped and landed onto Doyoung's palms ,giving him full freedom to do whatever he wanted with it.

"Doyoung ,I..um.."

"Yeah?"

Words , oh ! words have never been your forte. The only thing you were good at was actions - to express, to show , to communicate . That's all you've ever known.

So you lean in towards his face and place a chaste kiss on his lips. It lasts for a fraction of a second but your lips are left burning with the desire for more. More of him, more of this.

But when you see his face once you pull away, your blood runs dry. For a moment, you think so you see a flicker of happiness which quickly gets replaced by coldness, frustration, some degree of anger.

"Y/n, you know I like Claire!" He says , separating himself from you. Your body feels bare, "This was all for her. How could you ever think doing this would be a good idea?"

No,it wasn't for Claire. It was barely an excuse to bother you more, to see you roll your eyes at him , to spend time with you, but as Johnny says , his ego is too big to accept his liking towards you and not Claire.

He gets up.

"I-I will be leaving now."

He hasn't completely put a full stop to your fake relationship, he hasn't even said anything much yet but you know that he's left not just the astronomy tower, he's left you. All alone. As they always do.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Only the heavens know how you've barely managed to make it through a whole week avoiding Doyoung. The tear stains on your pillow , the muffled sobs in the washroom, the torn pages of your notebook are the only witnesses of your turmoil. For everyone else, you were still y/n, the girl who barely talks to anyone . And maybe, that's everything you'll ever be no matter how hard you try.

It is Hogsmade Weekend and Halloween which means you'll be packed with guests at the Three Broomsticks. It's a good thing ,you hope, it'll help keep you distracted from any painful thoughts and memories.

The cups and glasses and bottles dance around you as you put the chairs in place, your wand doing most of the work while you quietly murmur spells. It feels rather abnormal not having Doyoung around to help you. It feels too quiet ,even though the quietness is familiar to you.

A faint click sound echoes in the room and you immediately snap to look at the main door.

"Y/n?" Doyoung's head gently pokes in through the small gap in the door, “Happy Halloween.”

Your heart stops beating for a solid second, brain going fuzzy with a mixture of fear, excitement and relief. You want to run towards him and jump into his arms like how people do in those muggle movies but you restrain yourself; since it's not your place to do that. Not after you'd kissed him out of nowhere a week ago.

"Y-yea?" You stutter nervously, dragging a chair away from the table just to make it look like you are busy with work.

"Can we talk?"

Doyoung has always been very persuasive and he knows exactly what to say at a given instance. He's a Ravenclaw, after all. So he finds his way towards the table ,shyly so , and he pulls a chair for you to sit on ,"I won't take long, I swear."

You nod and sit. Better to be done with it than avoid it. "What is it? Shouldn't you be at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop? Enjoying with Claire and the other cool people?" You ask.

Doyoung gulps ,"Yes, I was there a minute ago. But it's too noisy there. I don't like it." And it's too dull without you.

"Okay. What did you want to talk about ?"

He plays with the buttons of his warm looking purple coat, his eyes shifting from the tablecloth to the glasses of gillyweed water to his fingers - anywhere but you.

"I'm sorry about running away that night. It was wrong of me," he begins, "And I regret it. I really do." "When I went back to the dorms, all I could think about was you and how much I loved hanging out with you and how pretty you look even when you're not trying and how desperately I wished you'd kissed me a second longer that night so I could have kissed you back. Because I really wanted to. "

When you start to reply , he shushes you, "No, it's not Claire that I want. Maybe it never had been because I don't even know her! But I know you and I think you're the coolest person in Hogwarts. I cannot love Claire, who I know nothing of but I can love you. I want to love you. If you'd let me."

You stare at him , your tongue suddenly losing all it's sense of functioning. Your eyes bore into his ,and you see it - the sincerity, the adoration, the desire. And you realise it has always been there. Just the two of you were too stupid to see it earlier.

"Okay. I guess." You reply , rubbing the back of your neck shyly. Your cheeks are tinted red but you put no effort in hiding it anymore, " I'm sorry, I don't know how dating works. What am I supposed to do?"

Doyoung giggles , tenderly taking your face in his hands, "Just do whatever you want to. It's just me."

"I really want to kiss you. " you whisper and he immediately tilts his head such that his lips easily captures yours. The kiss is warm and cozy yet fierce. His hands are locked on either side of your face while your lips perfectly mold around his, as if they were meant to be that way since the inception of time.

You don't believe in miracles , given your magical allegiance but you do believe in fate and soulmates. You believe that there's someone for everyone out there - no one knows how or when they'll cross paths with you, but they will surely do it one day. Because no force can stop one from getting the love you deserve. It's just like a string - there's one person at each end and you're so thankful that it is Doyoung that happened to be at the other end of your string.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

318 notes · View notes

seventfics · 4 years

Note

Love your writing. Prompt: Jaskier has abandonment issues, which he tries and fails to hide. Angsty shenanigans ensue

[Thank you! ☺️ I normally don’t do prompt requests but this is right up my alley of emotional suffering, so,]—x

So it’s true that Jaskier has everything anyone could ever want in life. He was born into comfort, held status and name, and had the fortune of education, though that last one was beaten into him mercilessly because he was not an easy child. He had it all—

He still has it all, if he wants it. Nothing stops him from returning to teach in Oxenfurt. No one will deny him his family title, of properties or inheritance. On the contrary, he’s earned even more renown by his lyrics and poetry and Continental ballads, his name known to every court and tavern. People flock to him for his tales of the White Wolf—and that too is part of his renown, for he turned the Butcher into a hero at no cost of his own but a few sore throats after eveningfuls of encores—

They invite him for festivals, banquets, courtly affairs. They propose to him, bed him, threaten him out of towns for having bed the wrong person. He is famous. He is the bard Jaskier. And when his fame and his charm are no longer a novelty, people are quick to move on.

In Lettenhove, in his early years, there was a tutor who praised him for his sharp musical ear. The old man spent many hours of the day showing him the value of the arts, something that left an imprint in his very soul. Not a year later, his parents sent him to temple school to learn his letters. He never saw the old tutor again—

In Oxenfurt, there was a girl who loved him for his voice. She was beautiful and sweet, her laughter like winter bells. By Summer’s end, she found a painter who worshipped at her feet like a dutiful priest at the altar of the gods. He doesn’t remember her name—

There were many like that girl since, and every time, he learned to accommodate a little better to keep them longer, to no avail—

In Posada, there was a witcher who huffed and groused at his company, and yet allowed him to come along on his journey. He was kind in a guarded way, a way familiar to Jaskier—the echoes of someone who has given himself up many times, only to suffer loss and rejection. Heartbreak hangs about him like a cape. And it takes Jaskier some time but he accommodates, learning the witcher’s limits, his preferences, what’s a jest and what’s a jab at old wounds—

“What’s this, you’re going to hunt the drowners now?”

The witcher is packing his bags neatly by the door. He offers a brief nod. “It’s early. They’ll be sluggish.”

“Give me a moment, I’ll come with.”

He’s given a strange look that says nothing of the sort will be happening. “No you’re not, bard. You’ll get yourself killed.”

Jaskier takes the threat of life in stride. “I’ll hang back, I swear, who wouldn’t want to see the great White Wolf in action!”

Sometimes the witcher huffs, indulging him. Other times, dreadful times, he orders him to stay put. So Jaskier waits in taverns, sitting on his hands. It’s the hardest thing for him to do. To wait. He does not sing, not while his gut twists and his fingers flutter nervously on wood. He simply waits and thinks about all the reasons why his company is but a burden on coin and travel, the witcher so used to traveling alone.

And every time Geralt comes barreling through the front door wet with gore, his mind and his chest empty of all aches.

“Oh thank the gods, you’re—still in one piece,” he says, because shouting you’re back, you’re alive, you didn’t die and leave me behind is far too much of a weight to throw on Geralt’s shoulders, he knows.

Geralt merely grunts, shaking off some of the grime. “Of course I am.”

It’s like that. The witcher leaves on a hunt, and on the times Jaskier cannot follow, he waits. Geralt always comes back—if not for him, then at least for the reward. It’s at the end of every crossway where they part face to face, never knowing if they’ll meet again.

And Jaskier continues his own journey, in search not of home, but its opposite. Of a place that will forever change to the years and the seasons and never bore him. Never bore of him. No one should know him any more than he is allowed to know another, except—

Except the witcher Geralt of Rivia who he meets again and again. Knowing him more with every meeting—

—A noise in the forest, distant, and Geralt gets up with his swords from camp.

Jaskier just fumbles, “You’re not just going to leave me here twiddling my thumbs in the dark, are you?”

“I’ll be right back, bard. I have to check—”

—A shared room on low coin, and never a problem between them. Jaskier stirs awake to the bed moving.

“Sum’thing up? Y’have to go?” He tries to mumble through a dry mouth. Geralt nudges his head down.

“No, I just need to eat. You keep sleeping, Jaskier—”

—A storm, and they’re both holed in a damp cave. Geralt looks ready to throw himself out in the rain and hunt for the Kikimore queen anyway.

“Geralt, please don’t leave in—in this storm.”

Geralt does listen, perhaps because he sounds a bit more shaken than usual. They’ve already gone low on provisions because the rain soaked through their bags. They need the coin. And it would have been fine, if Jaskier hadn’t insisted they go through this town—

Foolishly, dangerously, he becomes attached. Years go by. A decade. Two. There is no one else Jaskier knows more in his life. Geralt’s mannerisms, his expressions, his disquiet. He knows them all in the silence across a campfire, and he hopes he is known in return.

He hoped at the banquet in Cintra, barely whispering of a need that he dared not tell anyone else.

He hoped in the chaos of Rinde, of the djinn and the witch, begging for the witcher to choose him first.

And he hoped in the mountains of King Niedamir.

And his hope is not enough.

Jaskier knows to bear smiles and jokes for the right crowds, and he knows how to be serious in certain company. He learned to accommodate a little better to keep people longer, of course, to no avail. Even with Geralt—

He should never have grown complacent, believing that things would be different this once. He became attached—beyond attached, beyond need, beyond affection—

“I'll go get the rest of the story from the others,” Jaskier says in parting on that mountain, because if he makes light of it, then it will sluice off his frame like water, undamaging. He can pick himself up to keep searching for that place—of that someone that will never bore of him, that will never forget him and throw him aside.

Despite his efforts, there’s a chasm in his chest. A breathlessness like a wound that doesn’t want to heal. And he lingers at the foot of the mountain when he sees Roach nibbling on dry grass, tethered by the inn’s poor stable poles.

He doesn’t know how long he stays with her, petting her coat. She indulges him, preferring his company over the stablehand’s. There’s a joke there somewhere, about her being as obstinate as her rider, but he can’t bear to say it. Can’t bear to speak through the stone lodged in his throat—

And he shouldn’t be with her, not if he wants to avoid the witcher who so clearly and plainly told him to take off for good. But Roach is sweet. For once, she doesn’t bite his wrists. Instead she nickers, snuffling his dusty doublet. Maybe she’s learned to accommodate for heartbreak too, as it seems to follow where Geralt goes, whether caused by his hand or brought upon him—

“Jaskier.”

He freezes in place. He cannot turn. To see his blazing expression would be too much—

“Sorry. I won’t be staying. I’m just,” his voice fades as it starts to shake. How can he explain why he’s touching the witcher’s mare, for the simple comfort that she offers in not shying away from his touch?

“Jaskier.”

It is a demand for him to turn. He recognizes it in Geralt’s voice. Jaskier clenches his hands on Roach’s mane—

Refusing doesn’t work, as the witcher takes his shoulder to pull him back—

There are no fixed smiles left in him. No jest, no shrug. He hurts too deeply to put forth the effort. He is the bard Jaskier, but in front of Geralt of Rivia, he’s just alone. He has everything anyone could ever want in life, and not a lick of it matters with no one to stay for him, no one to call a friend—

But Geralt is not angry. He doesn’t quite look like anything except intense, keeping his wide yellow eyes on Jaskier’s own as he grips his shoulder tight.

“Let me go,” Jaskier says because he cannot take being seen so deeply, so closely, and not being wanted—

“No.” Geralt’s grip turns painful. “You—don’t want me to.”

Something breaks in him at the words—the truth in them—and it burns in his eyes and it burns his throat—and burns to tears shed pressed to black leather, his hands scrambling at the hard surface of Geralt’s armor.

He doesn’t want to be let go. Geralt holds him to his chest and he feels like stone cracking under pressure. Like gravel being crushed—

“I was angry,” the witcher says, swallowing against Jaskier’s ear, “I didn’t mean it,” tucking his face into Jaskier’s hair, “I don’t want you to go.”

And maybe it’s cruel or greedy but he wants for Geralt to ache like he does. To feel terror at being left behind. At it being Jaskier who walked away—hurting, choked by his own surging feelings—from the mountain first, by his offense—

Another part is relieved. Because Geralt does know him, after everything, after Jaskier’s efforts to know the witcher. He knows him well to strike where it hurts the most. He knew where to tear into with harsh words—

And that by doing so he went too far and tore into Jaskier’s heart too—

There are no apologies, but there are amends. There is a wavering conversation and one more stay at the inn.

At the crossroads they’ll part again, but not with goodbye. Not with tears or screams or hidden fears. They’ll meet again, like they always have. Better than they always have—

Because this time, and every time since, they part with a promise to see each other again.

#reply #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #abandonment (:#prompt #did i go full into post ep6 fix-it? y eh #1k

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

➳ catch me || s.r

summary: in which you struggle to tell the difference between liking him as a friend or something more. until one fateful moment forces you to decide where you ultimately stand.

words: ~3.9k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, overused friends to lovers, slight enemies to lovers LOL

a/n: i suffered through this WIP for like, 3 mf MONTHS before i was finally able to finish it off. i feel so relieved. but i will warn you, it’s terrible

"Rogers."

"Y/N."

You exchanged curt nods with him as you went to grab yourself some water after attending a meeting with Fury. Ever since Sharon started showing up more often, you began to distance yourself from him because you know that lingering by will only make you feel worse.He doesn't know why you're acting so cold all of a sudden, but decides not to question it as it won't help the situation in any way whatsoever.

He was quick to break the awkward silence that had fallen. "Where are you being sent off?"

"We," you replied coldly. "Northern Europe. Got word of an arms trade happening tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Footsteps were suddenly heard from down the hall and without warning, he tugged you forward by the wrist and pressed his lips to yours.

You didn't protest because you're still too shocked to fully register what's going on and 2) you actually liked the way he made you feel.

Though you really weren't supposed to be.

"What was that for?" you breathed out as you both pulled away, breathless.

"Sharon," he replied simply, looking around for a moment. "She's been bothering me for the past few weeks and I had to do something."

"You just noticed?" you said, sarcasm lacing your tone as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see the blonde woman walking away. "She's been all over you since her recruitment."

His brows furrow together in confusion as he notices the darkened look in your eyes, but doesn't say anything. You toss him the black manila folder containing information on your mission for him to read, sitting down at the kitchen counter together.

"Infamous dealer carrying nuclear weapons overseas. Headquartered somewhere in the Arctic Circle, I think," you explained as he pulled out the wanted man's file. "Can be taken either dead or alive. We have to stop them from going through with the attack."

"When are we leaving?"

"Wheels up at 8:30 p.m. Should take about 6 hours...we're being flown in via helicarrier."

Great.

You just realized you'd be stuck in a plane alone together for 6 hours straight, when the very thing you were trying to do was avoid him.

You're mostly silent as you board the jet, securing your bags and weapons before taking your seat. Fatigue is tugging at your body and your eyelids grow heavy, although it isn't even that late. Without thinking about what you were doing, you rest your head against Steve's shoulder and close your eyes. He wraps an arm around your waist in response.

Before you knew it, the aircraft was hovering over the drop zone. The two of you got up and went towards the back, fastening parachutes to your backs as the gates dropped open.

"Stay safe out there," you blurted out as you glanced down at the base below you, then over at Steve. "Circle the perimeter and meet me inside. Don't die or I'll kill you."

"Yes ma'am."

Inhaling sharply, you gripped the straps of your jacket and squeezed your eyes shut, the dry wind whipping your hair in your face as you descended downwards.

With his icy blue eyes still imprinted in the back of your mind.

...

It was quite ironic seeing that you, an Avenger and a former SHIELD pilot that flew everywhere all the time, had a crippling fear of heights. The mere idea of being jumping out of planes and having to go on missions involving multi-story buildings shook you to your core, and it always took you at least a week to recover once you got back.

"Steve!" Your voice heightened to a shriek as you felt the plane's velocity increase suddenly. The crates next to you toppled over and you went crashing to the floor alongside them, barely managing to grip the armrest of something and pressing your back against the wall, feeling your head spin. The sticky warmth and stinging, white-hot pain in your side tells you that you were shot. You didn't need to look at the wound to know it wasn't pretty. "Where the hell are you?"

"Fifty yards away from the northeast entrance," he replied breathlessly. "I got nothing. You?"

"The weapons," you panted, "are on the plane!"

"Okay. Where are you?"

"On the damn plane! They're gonna detonate at any moment, I have to get this thing away from the city—I'm not gonna make it so I just wanted to tell you that—"

"Fuck, don't say that," he hissed. You know things were bad when Steve Rogers, the man that coined the 'Language' line, swore. "Just—hang tight, I'm coming for you."

"No. Just forget it," you shouted over the noise, grunting in pain as your head hit the side of a storage box, muttering a string of curses under your breath. "I can't afford for you to risk your own life for me. It's okay. Just leave me behind."

"No, I'm not leaving you!" he yelled back. "I'm not going back home without you."

"Steve," your voice was thick with tears, throat feeling tight as you swallowed back the sob that was threatening to erupt from your lips. You wipe a tear that slips down your cheek and cleared your throat. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," he says hoarsely, "I lost you once, and I'm not losing you again."

"There's no point, Steve. I'm going to die. This thing's on autopilot going God knows where at top speed and if there's any chance of stopping this thing, I gotta crash it. If you come and get me you're gonna die, too. You know Fury's not gonna like having to send out an extraction team to drag both our corpses back to headquarters."

"Y/N, don't-" His voice breaks and you swear your heart shatters into a million pieces. "Please, don't- don't say that. I'm gonna come and get you. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

That was the last straw for you; and you lost it at those last words. Tears sting a steaming hot trail down your cheeks as you hastily try to wipe them away with your bruised and bloodied knuckles. "No, we're not. I don't think you understand. I'm over 30,000 feet in the air with no protection whatsoever. They're gonna shoot you down before you even have the chance to get to me."

You always told yourself you'd be willing to put your life on the line to save someone else's; to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. But now that death was looming threateningly close to you and staring you down, for the first time in a long time, you didn't know if you even wanted to leave and you were scared. Scared of what was to come if you really were to meet your end. Scared of what was to come at the end of the tunnel, what would happen when you were swallowed whole by death's bottomless, dark pit. You didn't expect your fate to approach so quickly, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Being a superhero meant that making sacrifices were a must-do. You always knew you would need to give things up in order to successfully do your job. That one day, your time to die would come but you didn't know it would happen like this; so unexpectedly.

Now you realize people were right as they told you in your final moments, you'd see your entire life flash before your eyes. You blink and you're transported back to when you first joined the Initiative, skeptical of the six unfamiliar faces before you. But it only takes a matter of three minutes before Thor cracks a joke that has you all howling in laughter, and another one for Natasha to approach you and start a conversation. To you, her, and Steve on the run as fugitives of SHIELD as you conducted the search for The Winter Soldier. The heartbreaking decision of having to choose between your mentor and best friend in Berlin--which you realized, happened barely over a year ago. So many memories had been created in such a short amount of time and you didn't ever want to let any of them go. You couldn't bring yourself to.

You stumbled over, sliding into the pilot's seat and buckling up. Your grip around the controls were so tight that the barely healing cuts around your knuckles reopened and began bleeding again.

You let out a shuddering sigh, tapping several buttons overhead before reaching down to turn on your comm again. "Steve? Are you there?"

"Darling..." The pure agony in his voice only makes you feel worse. You've never heard the great Captain America in such a soft-spoken tone before, so you could only assume it took him a lot to get him into this state. "Yeah. I'm here."

"So..." you readjusted your grip and let your shoulders fall back, "...you remember that one time we took the subway to see Hamilton last weekend?'

"Last weekend? It was only last weekend?" Steve tried his best to keep it together, but his wavering tone gave it all away. "Feels like forever since we got a break."

"I know," you let out a broken laugh, "and then you wouldn't stop talking about it the entire way back? It got so bad to the point Tony had to forcefully shut off all the speaker systems around the compound because he woke up at 3 am to see you sitting in the kitchen, playing the soundtrack at full volume."

"But when he saw you dancing around in the kitchen while making lunch the next day, he couldn't keep doing that for any longer. You have an amazing voice."

"I don't know..." you sniffed, forcing a smile, "you're the one who's pretty good at singing and playing the piano. I think you got all the musical talent-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, "stop. Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"You're talking as if you're gonna die."

The gravity of the whole situation comes crashing down on you again. "...Because I am."

"No, you're not. I'm not letting that happen."

"I don't think you have a say in things this time, Rogers," your voice cracked. You shook your head. "I'm done for. God, I really hoped this wasn't how I'd meet my end. I hate heights. I hate the ice, I'm scared shitless of dying, I can't- I can't do this. But I have to. If I don't, millions of people will die and I can't have that on my conscience."

You sucked in a breath as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see you're falling, and falling fast. In a matter of minutes you'll be plunging through the surface of the ice and into the depths of the icy-cold water. There's no turning back now.

"Geez," you spoke up again, "this is like some repeat of '45. Is this how it felt? Knowing you were gonna die, but doing it anyway because you knew you had to do it?"

"That's not the same. It was a matter of chance that I made it at all. Chances are slim to none that you'll end up frozen in a block of ice for 66 years."

"See, it's hopeless," you sighed. "Go back. You need to go...or you're gonna end up filled with bullets."

"I'm not going back," he repeated. "Not without you."

"If you're gonna think of a plan, you better think fast-"

"Jump."

"What did you just say? Are you out of your damn mind?"

"I said, jump. There's no other choice. Look for an emergency exit...there should be one above you. Do you see it?" His voice was calm, gentle, as if he was speaking to a child, and it soothed you a bit. You muttered a quick 'yes'. "Alright. Pry that open, get out of there. I'm coming with the Quinjet right now, so hang tight."

As if he could sense your fear, he softened his tone a bit more, "Hey. It's okay. I'm coming for you. You'll be alright."

"It's like we're Romeo and Juliet," you managed to choke out in between a laugh and sob, "except only one of us dies."

"Y/N, you're not dying." He couldn't mask the obvious pain in his voice. "Honey, I promise you're not gonna die. You're gonna be alright."

"Steve-" You let out an earsplitting shriek and scrambled to get a stronger grip as blaring alarms sounded throughout the aircraft. The impact of the hits nearly made you topple off and you clung to the side of the jet for dear life, praying to God you weren't going to fall off and crack your head open on an iceberg. "I got hit. They're tailing after me, you can't, I'm actually gonna fall-"

"Okay, okay, I'm here. Do you see me?" You turned your head to the side ever so slightly to see the Quinjet hovering below, but your heart dropped when all you could see were snow flurries blowing around - and zero sign of the super-soldier.

"No-"

"Just jump. I see you. I'm literally right below you, so jump, okay?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you trust me?" he yelled out, his voice carrying over on the frigid winds. "Y/N. Do you trust me?"

"But-"

"I've never let you down before and I sure as hell won't now. Trust me, Y/N, come on."

You pressed your lips together. You knew he was right. Either you made the jump now, or get filled with a dozen bullets and dying a brutal and gory death.

You finally bring yourself to look down again and there he is, a little closer this time. His gaze finds yours and suddenly, you're drowning. You might've been hundreds of feet apart but no distance would be able to extinguish his piercing gaze. His eyes were the ocean and you were lost at sea, lost in those endless pools of blue and losing yourself in him—the one guy who stuck by your side for so long and thought as nothing more than a best friend, a teammate until now. The one guy who took your breath away with his million-dollar smile every time you made eye contact.

In the one guy who you thought was just a friend, until you realized you were hopelessly in love with him - the Steve Rogers.

And now you weren't sure if you'd come out of this alive to finally tell him so.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let go. The wind whipping at your hair and face feels like a thousand tiny needles being jabbed into your skin and you swear if you kept your mouth open you would've puked - if you'd opened your eyes you knew you'd die from fear first before anything else.

But all those thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you're stopped by a pair of strong, warm arms you'd sought solace in countless times before.

"Y/N, thank God you're alright, oh my god," Steve let out a shuddering sigh as he held you close, cradling your head against his chest. "I thought I lost you. Oh my god. Are you okay?"

"I just fell out of an airplane without a parachute and I have no idea how I survived."

His look of concern immediately turns into horror when he pulls his hand off your waist to see it come back covered in your crimson blood. His face falls. Then it hits you all at once, and you're overcome with a nauseating wave of dizziness - the aftereffects were beginning to get to your head.

The super-soldier hurriedly jammed a finger to his ear. "I got her. We're on our way back. Prepare the medbay; she's gonna have to be operated on as soon as we land."

"Yes, sir," a STRIKE agent replied from the receiving end. "We'll get right to it. Please have a safe flight home."

"Thank you."

Steve put the jet on autopilot so he could sit with you in the back, frantically applying pressure to your wound and doing his best to patch you up. But with each round the bandages made around your waist, the blood flow increased, seeping through the fabric. You didn't have to tell him directly for him to know you didn't have much time left and if he were to save you, you would need to get back home, fast.

...

As soon as Steve stepped down the ramp with your limp, unconscious body in his arms, he was bombarded by a flurry of medbay agents, who had you in a gurney and were wheeling you away within minutes. He tried to follow after them but Tony quickly grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.

"Let me go," he growled. "I swear to Odin, Stark, if you don't-"

"You can't follow her in there."

"I can if I want to."

Tony let out a sigh of defeat. "Rogers. She's going to be fine."

"How do you know? How can you possibly guarantee her survival?"

"I just know. Sheesh, you're a hopeless romantic."

...

You glanced over at the monitor tracking your vitals beside your bed, the constant beeping of the machines seemingly echoing in your brain on a loop. You were too exhausted to do anything at the moment, but you couldn't seem to fall back asleep, even with the drugs coursing through your system.

You try to shift around and find a more comfortable position, and felt a twinge of pain on your right side. Note to self; don't place all your body weight on the side where a bullet tore through your stomach. Bad idea.

Laying flat on your back again, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall back asleep. But sleep never comes, and a few minutes later a knock on your door pulls you out of your momentary trance.

"Hey there, soldier," you managed a sleepy grin as Steve stepped into the room, pulling up a chair to your bedside. "Nice weather outside, isn't it? Feels like just yesterday I was gunned down and forced to drive myself to near-suicide...wait, that was yesterday, right? I've lost all sense of time-telling-"

You paused and looked back over to see a rare sight - he was on the verge of breaking down. His bright blue eyes were dulled and glossed over with fresh tears that threatened to spill, and although it had barely been over a day since your admittance to the hospital, it looked like he hadn't slept in over a week. And it was all your fault.

"Are you okay...?"

He shook his head, clenching his fists in his lap so tightly that they began turning white. "You’re seriously asking me if I’m okay? I almost lost you. You almost died."

"I'm sorry-"

"If I hadn't gotten to you in time, then...I don't know what I'd do if-"

"Steve, it's not your fault."

"I let you down, Y/N." His voice was cracked and raw, as if he'd been crying for hours on end beforehand. Your heart shattered at the sound. "I let you down and I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I'm sorry I left you alone on that ship because I didn't look out for you well enough. This is all on me. My job was to protect you, to look out for you. And I failed to do that."

"You didn't fail, Steve," you said softly. "You did your best. You saved me. I'm alive right now because of what you did."

The super-soldier inhaled sharply and moved his chair closer so he could reach his hand out to place it on your forehead, letting it stay there for a moment before sliding it down to cup your cheek. You didn't make any efforts to remove it and if you were being honest with yourself, you liked how his warm skin felt against your own. He smelled like honey and freshly ground coffee and everything good in the world. He made you feel like you were at home.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you let yourself bask in his warmth, melting into his soft touch. If it weren't for your currently uncomfortable predicament, you would've fallen asleep on the spot all over again.

"Something's on your mind, isn't there," you mumbled, eyes still closed. Even without your powers, it didn't take much for you to figure out that something was wrong. "Tell me what's going on."

You opened your eyes again to see that there were tears streaming down his face. He hastily tried to wipe them away with one hand as the other was gently placed on top of yours, but his efforts were fruitless, of no avail whatsoever.

"Steve-"

"I was so worried," he croaked out. "I don't want to think about how things would be if you died. I can't live without you."

"I'm here now, okay? I'm going to be fine. I'll heal," you said softly. "You saved me, you caught me, so now I'm okay. We're okay." You moved over slightly to give him room to sit. Steve's arms encircled your waist as yours slid down and over his shoulders, and he pressed his trembling lips to your temple.

It was quiet. Whispered oh-so-quietly, as if he was hesitant to open his mouth. But you heard it regardless.

"I love you."

You smiled sadly. "I know. I love you too."

"Just...please don't try and pull off something off like that again."

"I won't. I promise."

You heard each shaky inhale and exhale as he tried to regain his composure - strong arms tightening around your figure with his face buried into the crook of your neck. Letting out a trembling sigh, you held onto him even tighter as if by some miraculous way, doing so could keep him from falling apart. As if somehow, your arms being around him could squeeze all the million little shattered pieces of his heart back together again.

You knew deep down, exactly why he had been so afraid to watch you meet your potential end. It was the jet plunging into the depths of the icy blue, monstrous sea. He didn't want you to experience even a fraction of what he had and prayed you’d never have to. He swore a silent oath to himself to shield you away from as much of the horrifying world as he possibly could, but you were nearly dragged under by the clutches of Death herself that day, and he couldn't help but feel like he failed you.

You took in a deep breath, inhaling his fresh scent of coffee grounds and warm honey as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. For the briefest moment in time you could pretend everything was in fact, going to be okay, because it was just you and him wrapped up in each others' arms without a care in the world. It was just you and him, basking in each others' warmth, silent whispers of reassurance into his ear and repeated soft, fleeting kisses to his temple that reminded him you were still alive and breathing, and you were just fine.

For the first time in a long time, Steve Rogers felt whole again. The hole in his heart was gone, the void finally filled. And all it took was your presence, and your presence alone.

...

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Note

Geraskier prompt- geralt is in deep denial, and goes to a brothel and finds a mage who offers to give him a vivid vision his mind conjures up with his deepest desires for a few more coin. Geralt, intrigued, accepts and is blessed with none other that Jaskier and romance ensues. When geralt wakes up there’s major angst, then eventual fluff and smut :)

Despite what he always tells Jaskier, he really does enjoy the bard’s company. Sure, he never entirely shuts up, and if he does, he’s either humming or singing or tapping his fingers. It’s loud, and it’s annoying, and it took a long while for Geralt to get used to it, even longer for him to appreciate it. At some point, a few years ago, though, he realized he’d come to miss the bard whenever they’re apart.

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from parting ways with Jaskier every winter, Geralt going to Kaer Morhen to spend the coldest season with his brothers, Jaskier most often going to Oxenfurt. And while, yes, he does miss Jaskier during those long, dark months, he has his brothers to keep his mind off the bard - repairing the run-down parts of the keep, training in the courtyard, bickering and nearly beating each other up from time to time - so the winters aren’t too bad.

It’s those weeks in between that are the worst. Those weeks when he leaves Kaer Morhen and heads to the south-west, in search of Jaskier. It’s those weeks when it’s almost too quiet for his mind to bear, the silence sneaking up on him, making him feel lonely and slightly jumpy, making him wish he just had Jaskier back already, someone to keep his thoughts from spiralling downwards into self-hatred.

Jaskier’s always been good at that: keeping Geralt sane.

A few weeks after setting out from Kaer Morhen, he passes through a large town in Redania called Inerith. He decides to check the notice board for any contracts - after all, he’ll probably need the money, at some point; he can’t live off his supplies from Kaer Morhen forever. It’s empty, which is a bit strange for such a large town, but he figures it’s just a quiet neighbourhood.

Well, the notice board is empty, save for one sheet of paper. It’s an advertisement for the brothel, at the corner of the main street. It offers the reader their ‘deepest, darkest desires’. ‘For only sixty crowns more!’ it announces cheerily. Geralt scoffs at the notion, though there is a certain curiosity stirring in his stomach. He thinks for a second, about how it’ll take another few weeks until he reaches Oxenfurt, until he’s no longer alone.

He sighs, and heads to the corner of the main street. Sure, it won’t chase away his loneliness completely, but a warm body next to him might keep him from getting stuck in his own head for at least one night. And, admittedly, he is a bit curious to find out what his ‘deepest, darkest desire’ is. Probably a good talk with someone he trusts, or a nice ale. Jaskier crosses his mind for a fleeting second, but he pushes it away, nearly laughing at his own ridiculousness. Sure, the bard is a good friend of his, but nothing more than that - just a friend.

He stops in front of the brothel. It’s a very nice building, with white walls and a purple door, large windows tempting passerbys to look inside, yet there are purple curtains blocking everything from view. He sighs, heading inside, and is greeted immediately by the madame. She looks him up and down, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

“I will not allow permanent harm to be done to any of my girls or boys, Witcher. And hurting them costs extra.”

He frowns. “I’m not seeking to do harm to anyone. I’m merely seeking someone to keep me warm.”

She nods, face relaxing slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for being so direct, but the rumours, you see...” Geralt nods. He knows about the reputation Witchers have, has had this talk with plenty of madames before. “So, a boy or a girl, tonight, Witcher? I might have to see who’s willing to bed you, but I think either can be arranged,” she continues, as she leads him to a spacious living room, filled with couches the same colours as the curtains, prostitutes lounging on them, casting curious glances in his direction.

It’s a good question, and he’s not really sure - he doesn’t really prefer one over the other. He looks at the covered windows, sees a hint of blue sky peeking out between two curtains, and without thinking twice, he says: “Boy.”

The madame nods. “Have you read about our special service, on the notice board?”

Geralt nods. “I have. What does it entail?”

She smiles at him. "A Mage will look into your mind, and conjure up a vision of your deepest desire, one you might not even know about yourself. It could look like an older person, or a younger person, or the hatefuck you’ve always wanted, or the person you’ve been too afraid to confess to. Of course, it’s just a vision, the whore stays the same underneath the glamour, but it’ll look and sound and feel like the real thing. Costs only sixty crowns extra, on top of the amount you already have to pay, of course.”

He stares at the wall behind her for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek, as he thinks. He’s not really sure what to expect, but he’s got the money and the curiosity, and he figures that if he doesn’t like it, he can always leave, so he turns his eyes back to the madame, nodding once.

She smiles. “That is arranged, then.” She snaps her fingers at a man with blonde hair and warm, brown eyes, laying on one of the couches. “Adrian, are you up for a Witcher, tonight?”

The man- Adrian, stretches out, looking Geralt up and down for a few seconds, and the Witcher can smell a hint of lust trickling through the heavy perfume of the room. “Certainly am,” Adrian says, before standing up, sauntering over to Geralt, laying a hand on his chest. “He’s a fine one, this Witcher,” he mutters to the madame, and she nods in agreement. “So,” the whore whispers, leaning up a bit to meet Geralt’s eye, “did you take the special service?”

He swallows thickly, then nods, earning him a soft chuckle from Adrian.

“Curious to see what the big, bad Witcher desires most,” he purrs into Geralt’s ear, before stepping back, extending his hand, which Geralt takes. “Come on, big boy, let’s get you upstairs, shall we?”

Geralt follows Adrian up the stairs, towards one of the rooms. It’s spacious and quite luxurious, painted white, with a bed the same purple as the curtains downstairs, but Geralt doesn’t really pay attention to it too much. Adrian lets him in, but keeps the door open, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes hungrily taking Geralt in. “Just a minute, Witcher. Have to wait for the Mage, first.”

Well enough, a few seconds later, Geralt hears footsteps approaching them, a middle-aged man appearing in the doorway. The Mage rubs his hands together, pulling his eyebrows up at Adrian, who nods in confirmation.

“Alright,” the Mage mutters, extending his hand towards Geralt, palm flat, fingers slightly spread. “Ready whenever you are, master Witcher.” Geralt frowns, but steps closer, letting the Mage touch the side of his head with his fingers, before the man reaches out and holds on to Adrian’s shoulder.

Suddenly, Geralt feels dizzy, and he squeezes his eyes shut, resisting the urge to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He gasps for air, his vision going white for a couple of seconds. The hand on the side of his head disappears, and he hears footsteps, before a door is closed softly.

He feels a gentle hand against his cheek, callouses on the fingertips, and it grounds him back into reality, calms him down.

“Geralt, are you alright?” a familiar voice asks, and his eyes snap open. The Mage is gone, and so is Adrian. Instead, he sees Jaskier, blue eyes staring at Geralt with concern, his familiar scent of roses and lemon tingling in the Witcher’s nose.

“Jaskier?”

“If that’s who you want me to be, then yes.”

He frowns, thoroughly confused, until he remembers what the madame had said. Sure, he may look, feel, and smell like Jaskier, but it’s not him - it’s still Adrian. But fuck, if it doesn’t seem so incredibly real - if it doesn’t seem like Jaskier is right there, in the room with him, like they never parted ways for the winter at all. He hadn’t expected the bard to be his deepest desire, but now that he’s here - now that it looks like he’s here - smelling of himself and arousal, Geralt can’t deny that he wants this, more than anything.

He contemplates running for the door, getting the hell out of here before he complicates the friendship he has with Jaskier, when Jaskier- Adrian, steps towards him, plastering himself against Geralt’s chest, lithe arms wrapping themselves around his neck. “How long, Witcher?” He even fucking sounds like Jaskier.

“Months,” Geralt replies, hands settling on Jaskier’s- Adrian’s hips off their own accord, and he feels warmth seeping into his skin. “It’s been months since we last saw each other.”

Jaskier- Adrian, godsdammit, tuts, nose brushing against Geralt’s. “Not what I meant, darling. How long have you wanted me?”

His breath catches in his throat when Jaskier’s lips brush over his. “Years,” he manages to choke out, before he pulls the bard closer, kissing him like he’ll die if he doesn’t - because it certainly feels like he will. Years of tension, of longing looks he wasn’t even aware he was casting, of secret dreams of the bard’s body against his, shattering as Jaskier softly moans into his mouth, opening his lips and inviting Geralt to deepen the kiss.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted and more, as Jaskier moves one hand down, palming Geralt’s already hard cock through his trousers, making the Witcher gasp slightly.

“Gods, you’re so big, Geralt,” Jaskier- Adrian- Jaskier mutters, nipping at Geralt’s lower lip. “Wonder if that’s all going to fit, darling.”

“I- you... you don’t have to,” he whispers, shivering slightly as Jaskier runs a soft finger along his cock, rubbing the head gently through the fabric, barely more than a tingle.

“I want to, darling. Want to split myself open on your cock, see if I can come on it untouched.” He bites his lower lip, lashes fluttering slightly in excitement. “Have been waiting for this for years,” he whispers.

The illusion breaks for just a second, then, as Geralt remembers that this is not really Jaskier, this is not his dearest friend who he’s known for decades. This is Adrian, a whore who he paid to fuck. He’s about to pull back when Jaskier- Adrian- Jaskier drops to his knees, tongue hot and wet against the fabric of Geralt’s trousers, and he groans at the sensation, threading his fingers through brown curls - Gods, they feel as soft as they look.

“Please, Geralt,” Jaskier whispers, looking up at him through thick lashes, “want to suck you so bad, feel you come in my mouth.”

He has to choke back a needy sound, and nods, lets Jaskier unlace his trousers, lets lithe fingers pull out his painfully hard cock. Jaskier gives him two long, languid strokes with just the right amount of pressure that it leaves Geralt’s head spinning, nimble fingers catching beads of precum, smearing it out across his skin.

“Fuck,” he utters, fingers tightening in those brown curls. “Please, I need you-” He groans, deep and guttural when Jaskier wraps his lips around the head of his cock, sucking harshly - bordering just on the right side of painful - before letting go again.

“Gods, Geralt, I love hearing you beg.”

He chuckles, wiping some stray hair away from Jaskier’s forehead, as those familiar, blue eyes look up at him, pupils blown wide. “Of course you do.” He sighs softly as Jaskier kisses the tip of his cock, lips catching a bead of precum. “Fuck, please, Jaskier, need you so bad, please-” His sentence is choked off again, as Jaskier takes him in his mouth, sinking halfway down, before moving back, taking Geralt’s cock deeper with every slow bob of his head.

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the soft pressure of Jaskier’s mouth, combined with his slow movements, not enough to bring him closer to the edge, but enough to drive him insane; those searing, blue eyes, continuously staring at him, even as tears glaze them over whenever Geralt’s cock hits the back of his throat; or the knowledge that this is all just a beautiful illusion.

It’s the last realization that makes something in him snap, and he grabs the back of Jaskier’s- Adrian’s- Jaskier’s head, stilling him. “Tap my thigh if you want me to stop,” he says, and Jaskier nods obediently, clearly aware as to what’s coming. Jaskier lets himself go slack, hands holding on to Geralt’s thighs but doing nothing more - just holding on - spit starting to drip down his chin, as Geralt starts moving his head, up and down his cock.

The hands around his thighs clench a bit, the first time Jaskier chokes, but he soon relaxes again, lets Geralt fuck into his mouth, blue eyes falling shut, his own cock straining against his trousers.

“Fuck- feels so good, Jask,” Geralt mutters, cock twitching at the soft moans Jaskier lets out, at the wet sounds that come out of his throat every time the Witcher thrusts deeper. Way too soon for his own liking, he finds himself near his climax, and he pulls Jaskier’s head back, off his cock, ignoring the needy little sound the bard lets out.

“Jaskier, I’m going to-”

“Please, Geralt, come in my mouth, please. I want to taste you.”

“I- alright.” He lets go of Jaskier’s hair, and the younger man moves forward again, taking Geralt’s cock in his mouth with renewed fervor, sucking eagerly, and before soon, he feels himself hurtling over that edge, coming with a strangled “fuck!”

Jaskier gently sucks him through his orgasm, before eventually pulling back when the pleasure starts to border on pain, making a show of swallowing, blue eyes staring up at Geralt intensely.

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters, softly petting Jaskier’s hair, who grins at him. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.” He moves his hand under Jaskier’s chin, and the bard stands up, letting Geralt pull him into a searing kiss.

It isn’t long before Jaskier (not Jaskier) starts palming at Geralt’s cock again, though. “Need you, Geralt,” he whines against the Witcher’s lips. “Want you inside me.”

Geralt can’t help but grin at that, reaching down to put his hands around the back of Jaskier’s thighs. Jaskier seems to get the message and jumps up, wrapping his legs around the Witcher’s waist, pulling him in for another kiss while Geralt carries him to the bed.

He lowers Jaskier onto the soft sheets, the bard quickly undressing himself as Geralt does the same, settling between Jaskier’s legs afterwards. “How- how do you want...”

Jaskier sits up, pressing a soft hand against Geralt’s chest. “However you want.”

He swallows thickly. “Well, I don’t- I don’t know...” In all reality, he’s dreamt about this moment a billion times and now that he’s here with Jaskier (not Jaskier), he doesn’t really know what to do. All he knows is that he just wants to please the bard, in whatever way he can.

Jaskier sighs softly and rolls his eyes, though smiles anyways. “Alright, fine, I’ll decide, then.” He chews on his bottom lip for a second, contemplating his choices, arousal spiking in his roses and lemon-scent, before he turns around, his knees on the soft, purple sheets, head on his forearms. “Like this,” Jaskier whispers, looking over his shoulder. “I want you to fuck me like this.”

Geralt can’t help but smile, though softly, as he runs his palm along Jaskier’s spine, earning him a shiver. After a few more gentle strokes, he moves his hand towards Jaskier’s ass, resting just on top of it, the other pulling his cheeks apart. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, as he sees the round end of a wooden plug. “Oh, prepared, aren’t we?”

Jaskier grins over his shoulder, wiggling his ass softly, invitingly. “Couldn’t wait.”

“Hmm,” Geralt hums, taking the end of the plug between his fingers, tugging softly, earning him a sharp hiss and a spike in the scent of arousal, hanging heavily around them. “You’ve always been impatient.”

“Yeah, well, still am,” Jaskier huffs, attempting to move his hips, only stopped by Geralt’s hand, keeping him still. “Please, Geralt, I need you to fuck me, and I swear to all the gods, if you don’t do it right now, I won’t talk to you for a week.”

He chuckles softly, though a distant part of him wonders if the Mage planted Geralt’s memories of Jaskier into Adrian’s head, because good gods, does he sound exactly like the bard - from his accent, to his impatience, to the way he words his sentences. It’s uncanny, and he strains to fight the blurring of the lines between the whore in front of him and the real Jaskier.

“Geralt?” He looks up at Jaskier’s- Adrian’s- Jaskier’s voice, soft and concerned, meeting searing blue eyes. “Everything alright?”

He nods. “Fine,” he grunts, tugging at the plug, pulling the thickest part past Jaskier’s rim, to distract both himself and the bard- whore- bard. It works, and Jaskier lets out a breathy moan, Geralt’s cock twitching against his stomach in interest. “Fuck,” he mutters, pushing the plug slightly back in again, before completely pulling it out, just to hear Jaskier moan.

“Sweet Melitele’s tits, Geralt. Please, please, just-” He keens, high and sweet and more beautiful than any music Geralt’s ever heard, when he pushes the head of his cock past Jaskier’s rim. “Oh, fuck, feels so good, please, pleasepleaseplease-”

His begging dissolves into breathy moans and soft pants as Geralt pushes in further, until he’s completely seated, sparks of pleasure shooting through him as Jaskier twitches around him. He stills for a second, lets Jaskier get used to the size of him, forces himself to move back from that edge a bit, before he pulls his hips back, slamming back in. It earns him a loud moan, so he does it again, and again, and again, angling his hips differently every time, until he finally finds the spot that makes Jaskier scream.

“Oh, gods, oh gods, ohgodsohgodsohgods-” Jaskier (not Jaskier, dammit) mutters, body shaking with pleasure, cock steadily drooling precum on the purple sheets. Slowly, Geralt increases his speed, thrusts growing more and more shallow, until he’s barely pulling out anymore - though he finds he doesn’t need to, when Jaskier comes with a strangled shout underneath him, painting the sheets and his own chest white with cum. He clenches around Geralt, and the pressure is enough for the Witcher to come as well, groaning softly, stilling completely.

After a while, he pulls out, collapsing next to Jaskier, who has rolled onto his side, facing Geralt. He closes his eyes for a second, lets himself revel in that post-orgasmic haze, in the feeling of someone next to him, in the soft patterns long fingers without callouses trace into his chest. He frowns, the sleepy, content haze suddenly gone, and he looks to his side, finding Adrian looking back at him.

His heart shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, it really shouldn’t.

He gets out of there as fast as he can.

---

He told himself it didn’t mean anything. He told himself it wouldn’t change the way he looked at Jaskier. He told himself everything would be fine and he could go back to the way things were, as if nothing had happened at all. He told himself he could forget all about it.

He now knows he’s wrong, as Jaskier pulls him into a tight hug, grinning into Geralt’s shoulder. “Geralt! It’s so good to see you!” The bard pulls back, holding the Witcher at an arm’s length, blue eyes sparkling. “Something the matter, Witcher?”

Geralt blinks, tears his gaze away from Jaskier’s lips, forcing the memory of how they had looked wrapped around his cock to the back of his mind. He shakes his head. “Been a long journey, is all.”

Jaskier grins at him, looping an arm thought Geralt’s, dragging him to an inn at the corner of the main square of Oxenfurt, near the university. “I understand. Kaer Morhen is a long way away, my dear Witcher, so how about we get you some rest and a nice bath? I bet that’ll make you feel better.”

He knows it won’t, as he looks at Jaskier, and can’t stop his mind from wandering to that one night, a few weeks ago, but he lets himself be led to the inn, anyway.

---

He sits in the bath obediently as Jaskier dumps bucket after bucket of clean water over his head, chattering excitedly about all the taverns he played in during the winter, all the people he’d had drinks with, all the classes he gave at the university. Geralt lets himself be near-manhandled as Jaskier scrubs at his back, pointedly ignoring the proximity and the warmth radiating off the bard.

He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in roses and lemon, trying to push away the memory of how it had smelled with arousal mixed into that scent. He breathes in again - roses, lemon, and... pine trees. His eyes snap open, and his hand snatches Jaskier’s wrist, bringing it to his nose, ignoring the bard’s confused protests.

There it is, again, as Geralt pushes his nose against Jaskier’s pulse, breathing in deeply. There’s a lingering hint of pine trees and musk beneath those familiar roses and lemons, but it’s barely there, almost as if Jaskier desperately tried to scrub the scent away.

He lets go of the bard’s wrist, as Jaskier keeps staring at Geralt, confused. “You were with someone else. Not long ago. A man.”

Jaskier blinks, then blushes furiously, looking away. “Alright, yeah, maybe I was.” He looks at Geralt again, shrugs. “But what I get up to during the winter isn’t exactly your business, Witcher.” He sounds defensive, and quite honestly, Geralt doesn’t blame him. He knows full well he has no right to comment on the company Jaskier keeps, has no right to demand an explanation.

Has no right to feel so jealous.

So, he turns back around, letting Jaskier scrub shampoo into his hair, a little bit more harshly than usual - but still softer and kinder than Geralt deserves. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t deserve Jaskier, doesn’t deserve his friendship, his company, his kindness, his sparkling blue eyes. He doesn’t deserve Jaskier, and Jaskier deserves better than him - deserves someone to keep him company during the cold, long months, when Geralt’s fucked off to Kaer Morhen, someone who smells like pine trees.

“Was he good to you?” The question is out of his mouth before he knows it, and Jaskier’s hands still in his hair for a split second.

“Who?”

“The man you were with. Was he good to you?”

Jaskier hums softly, arousal spiking in his scent, which is answer enough to Geralt. “Yes, he was. He was very good to me, but...” His voice trails off, and he gets up to grab another bucket of water, dumping it over Geralt’s head, who wipes it out of his eyes.

“But what?”

“Well, he was...” He hears Jaskier sitting on the stool behind him again, feels a comb through his hair, teeth lightly scraping against his scalp. “He was nice, and comfortable, and safe.”

“Those are all good things.”

Jaskier sighs softly. “Well, yes, they are, but it’s not... what I want. For some people, comfort and safety is what they want in life, but not for me. I want- need something... more. So, being with him was nice. But only for a while.”

“And what do you need, then?”

It’s quiet between them for a while, Jaskier still combing Geralt’s hair, though there are no longer any knots left. “Adventure,” Jaskier says, eventually. “The thrill of danger, the feeling of adrenaline in my veins, travelling around the Continent, never truly settling down.”

It explains why Jaskier’s still around him, he supposes, explains why Jaskier always joins him on the Path, even after spending an entire winter apart. But it doesn’t explain why Jaskier sticks by Geralt’s side, specifically. Hell, the bard could walk the roads alone, and he would get exactly what he wants. Maybe he keeps close to Geralt for safety, maybe for songs, maybe for the Witcher’s hunting skills. He doesn’t know. And he’s too afraid to ask - scared that if he does, Jaskier will realize he doesn’t really need Geralt and leave him on his own.

Jaskier chuckles softly behind him. “What? No scathing remark? No telling me that I’m romanticizing danger? Not even a hmm?”

Geralt smiles softly. “Hmm.”

Jaskier laughs, patting Geralt on his shoulder, before standing up, drying off his hands. “Alright, then, I guess that’ll have to do.”

And with that, he’s gone, presumably to go get some food downstairs, and Geralt gets out of the bath, drying himself off, pointedly ignoring the lingering feeling of Jaskier’s hands against his skin.

---

They continue travelling after that, heading east on Jaskier’s request. Everything is back to normal - or at least, it should be, but Geralt can’t stop the memories of that one night resurfacing every time he looks at Jaskier. Hell, sometimes he forgets it was all an illusion, a vision created by a Mage. Sometimes he forgets that it wasn’t Jaskier at all, and it makes him slip up a few times, the boundaries they’ve created between them over the years suddenly unclear and slightly blurry. It gets worse the longer they travel together, Geralt slowly letting his guard down too much.

One time, Jaskier sat down next to him after a performance, gulping down two cups of ale before basically inhaling the plate of food Geralt had gotten for him. The Witcher had put his hand on the bard’s thigh under the table, had told him to take it easy or he would choke on it. Jaskier had simply nodded, and Geralt’s attention had strayed to the rest of the tavern, making sure there were no potential threats coming their way. It was only when he had noticed Jaskier staring at him, that he’d realized his hand wasn’t just still on the bard’s thigh, but that it had strayed up a bit. He had snatched his hand away, cleared his throat, and excused himself for the night, getting the hell out of there as quickly as he could manage. Jaskier hadn’t mentioned it.

There was also that one time that Jaskier was reading something, and Geralt had looked over his shoulder to see what it was. Without thinking twice about it, he had turned his head, brushing his nose against that sensitive spot under Jaskier’s ear, inhaling roses and lemon. Jaskier’s stuttering breath and skipping heartbeat had shaken him out of it, and he’d gone to brush Roach, scolding himself for what he’d done.

And then there was the staring. He couldn’t stop his eyes from straying to the bard every time they were in the same room, couldn’t stop the memories from resurfacing, along with a suffocating wave of longing. It had come to a point where even Jaskier was a bit freaked out about it, it seemed, furrowing his brow in confusion every time he caught the Witcher staring. Hell, he even asked about it a couple of times, asked if there was something wrong. Geralt didn’t have the heart to tell him, so he merely grunted something noncommittal and turned away.

---

He doesn’t realize they’ve travelled so far to the east, until Jaskier one day closes the door to their room at the inn after a performance and says: “Can we go to Inerith, next?”

There’s something familiar about the name of the town, something nagging at the back of Geralt’s mind, but he ignores it. “Why?”

Jaskier clears his throat, looking both excited and a bit embarrassed. “Well, there’s a brothel there-” Geralt snorts. Of course it’s about sex, it almost always is with Jaskier. The bard ignores it. “-where they offer a special service, I’ve heard. They can show you your deepest, darkest desire and project it as a vision. Heard it really works, as well.”

Oh. Oh no. So that’s why the name had sounded so familiar to Geralt, it’s the town with... where he... He squeezes his eyes shut for just a second. “No, not going back,” he says. After all, he can’t face what he’s done, can’t risk anyone recognizing him, can’t stop himself from going to the brothel again, if they were to pass through the town.

He doesn’t realize what he’s said, until Jaskier asks: “What do you mean, going back?”

Geralt freezes in the middle of cleaning his swords, the only sounds in the room the crackling of the fire in the hearth, Jaskier’s rapid heartbeat, and his own faltering one. “Nothing,” he says eventually.

“Oh, nonono, you don’t get to say something like that and not acknowledge it,” Jaskier quips, standing in front of Geralt, hands on his hips. “You’ve been to Inerith, haven’t you? You went to the brothel.”

Geralt sighs, putting his sword to the side, wiping a hand over his face. “Hmm.”

“Did you- did you see your deepest desire? What was it?”

He swallows thickly. “No, I didn’t see it.” he lies. “I didn’t have the money. It was just a normal fuck.”

Jaskier purses his lips, something mischievous and gleeful shining in those blue eyes. “I know you’re lying, Geralt. Come on, what did you see?” His eyes widen slightly. “Or who did you see? Was it the sorceress, the-” he waves his hand a bit “the scary one with the purple eyes?”

He looks at Geralt for a second, gaze intent, and the Witcher looks away - he can’t bear the heaviness of those eyes on him.

Jaskier gasps slightly. “It wasn’t the witch? Oh, now you have to tell me.”

“I don’t have to tell you shit,” Geralt snaps, and moves to get up, pushed back into the chair by Jaskier’s surprisingly strong and firm hand against his chest. “Really?”

Jaskier grins at him, a wicked edge to his smile. “Really. You’re going to tell me what you saw, Witcher.”

“I will do no such thing.” He stares at Jaskier, who stares right back, unyielding, unrelenting, curiosity and glee in those impossibly blue eyes. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore, the memories resurfacing again, Jaskier’s gaze too intense to bear, and he looks away, guilt creeping up on his mind.

“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, and Geralt looks back at the bard, sees his eyes widening in realization, face going slack. “Oh. It was me, wasn’t it? You saw me.”

He can’t hide it anymore. The truth has already been threatening to spill over, these past few weeks, the realization in Jaskier’s eyes the last drop. “Yes.” Jaskier’s hand is still on his chest, his entire mind narrowing down to the heat and the weight of that one point of contact, only distracted when Jaskier leans forward, crowding his vision, forcing Geralt to look at him.

“Oh, you bastard,” Jaskier whispers. Geralt resists the urge to close his eyes, resists the urge to get the hell out of here. This is what he’s been fearing, these past few weeks - that Jaskier would find out and hate him for it.

He startles when the bard climbs into his lap, knees around Geralt’s hip, heels under his own ass. Surprisingly strong hands tighten around his shoulders, as Jaskier bites his bottom lip. “You bastard. You got what you wanted, you got to fuck me, but I didn’t get to fuck you? I can’t believe this.”

Geralt frowns, tries to blink away his confusion. “I didn’t think you wanted to.”

“Haven’t I flirted with you for years? Haven’t I offered several times?”

Jaskier has offered to keep him warm, to help ease his tension and stress, but- “I thought you were joking. I didn’t think you meant it.”

Jaskier laughs, a bit bitterly. “Gods, you’re so stupid.” He smiles at Geralt, something hot and heavy mixing with his scent of roses and lemon, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Tell me,” he whispers. “What did he do for you? What did he do while looking exactly like me?”

Geralt’s mind shortcircuits, and he finds himself unable to put the memories to words, to tell Jaskier, though the sight of the bard’s pupils dilating, of his cock straining against his breeches desperately makes him want to. He swallows thickly. “I- he...”

“Can’t find the words?” Geralt shakes his head, and Jaskier’s grin only widens. “Alright. Show me, then.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs, and he hooks his hands under Jaskier’s legs, holding him up as he gets out of the chair, walking to the bed. He tries to gently lay the bard down, he really does, but his own excitement and nerves make his hands falter, dropping Jaskier down unceremoniously. The bard yelps as his back hits the sheets, but giggles soon afterwards, fighting to kick off his boots.

Geralt kneels at the foot of the bed and helps him, before moving up, untying the laces of Jaskier’s breeches, as the bard watches him, pupils dilated, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Finally, the laces are undone enough for Geralt to pull the breeches down Jaskier’s legs, discarding them somewhere behind him, leaving the bard in his underclothes.

Jaskier yelps again when Geralt pulls him towards the edge of the bed, positioning the bard’s legs over his shoulders. He looks up at Jaskier. “Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispers, and Jaskier pushes himself up onto his elbows, carding a hand through Geralt’s hair, tugging slightly, eliciting a soft groan from the Witcher.

“I’m not worried about you not stopping, I’m worried about you not goddamn starting, Geralt,” he mutters, pulling one eyebrow up in challenge.

Geralt doesn’t respond. Instead, he dives down, closing his mouth around the head of Jaskier’s still clothed cock, earning him a soft moan and another tug at his scalp. He looks up as he licks a few stripes up the shaft, slowly wetting the fabric, and meets Jaskier’s intense gaze, the bard’s lips parted as he pants slightly.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous like that,” Jaskier mutters, loosening his grip on Geralt’s hair in favour of running his fingers through the strands. If the Witcher could’ve blushed, he would’ve, but he decides that he’s teased Jaskier enough, and pulls away slightly, earning him a soft whine that turns needier when he tugs Jaskier’s underclothes down far enough to release his cock.

He wastes no time wrapping his mouth around Jaskier’s cock, licking away beads of precum before he swallows him down completely, basking in the bard’s moans, in the soft tugging at his scalp as nimble fingers tighten in his hair again.

Jaskier’s cock hits the back of his throat, and he closes his eyes for a few seconds, fighting the urge to gag, as he holds still. He only starts moving again when Jaskier pulls him up, letting the bard guide him as he sucks.

“Fuck,” Jaskier mutters when Geralt hollows his cheeks around the head before moving down again. “You’re perfect- so fucking gorgeous...” His whispered praises turn into soft babbles, and Geralt knows he’s getting closer to that edge. He looks up at Jaskier again, stroking one hand up and down the bard’s hip, trying to convey his message with his eyes.

“You-” Jaskier gasps softly, panting for air. “You want me to come in your mouth? Is that it?”

Geralt’s hum of agreement is enough to send Jaskier over the edge, back arching off the bed as he comes, legs spasming slightly. Geralt diligently sucks him through his orgasm, swallowing every drop Jaskier has to give, only letting go when the bard twitches away from him, overstimulated.

He sits back, letting Jaskier’s legs fall off his shoulders in favour of tugging the bard’s breeches off, before undoing the buttons of Jaskier’s shirt. The bard sits up, lets Geralt tug the rest of his clothes off, before he starts pulling at the Witcher’s shirt, as well. “Not fair that I’m the only one naked,” he mutters, and Geralt can’t help but smile. “I want see you.”

Geralt lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it away, before standing up, fumbling hands working on the laces of his trousers, eventually managing to push them down and kick them off. He stands there sheepishly for a couple of seconds, as Jaskier gapes at him, lips parted slightly, hungry eyes raking up and down Geralt’s body. He can’t stand the intensity of those blue eyes for long, and steps forward, leaning down to kiss Jaskier, the taste of the bard’s spend still on his tongue, relishing in the soft, content sighs Jaskier lets out.

“Did you fuck him?” Jaskier eventually whispers against Geralt’s lips, and the Witcher frowns, slightly confused. “The whore that looked like me. Did you fuck him?” Jaskier clarifies.

Geralt had forgotten about that one night at the brothel in Inerith, in all honesty, too occupied with the real Jaskier, right in front of him, to remember. “Yes,” he manages to choke out.

“How?”

“On his knees.”

Jaskier sighs softly, biting his lip, eyes suddenly uncharacteristically insecure. “I... I don’t want that. I understand if you do, but not... not the first time.”

Geralt ignores the slight whooping feeling in his stomach at the insinuation that there will be more times to come, and nods. “I understand. I don’t want that, either. I want to see you.”

Jaskier smiles at him, pressing a soft kiss to the Witcher’s lips. “May I?” he asks, hands softly pushing against Geralt’s shoulders, and he nods, letting himself be gently pushed and pulled until he’s the one sitting on the bed, Jaskier in his lap. His hands fall on the bard’s waist like it’s second nature, and he can’t help but press soft kisses against the side of Jaskier’s neck, breathing in roses and lemons and the salty tang of sweat.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against Jaskier’s skin, the words too heavy to say them to his face. “You’re beautiful and you’re perfect and I- I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jaskier whispers, hands softly petting Geralt’s hair, the gesture so tender it’s almost overwhelming.

“Oil?” he asks, and he feels Jaskier nod above him, pulling back a bit to reach down for his bag, at the foot of the bed.

“Good thing I left this here,” he mutters, and Geralt smiles softly. He closes his eyes and takes a moment to let it all sink in. The fact that Jaskier loves him back, that he’s right here with him, his warm body pressed against Geralt, that he’s showering the Witcher with soft touches and softer kisses and even softer words. It’s almost too much, his chest not able to contain the happiness and love that he feels, but he resists the urge to take off, to run away from all this. For Jaskier. He’ll do anything in his power to make sure Jaskier never gets hurt again - especially not by Geralt himself.

“Hey.” Jaskier’s voice is impossibly soft and tender, his finger gently tilting Geralt’s chin up, and he opens his eyes. “Everything alright?”

He nods, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. “Yes, it’s just... a lot.”

Jaskier frowns softly, cradling Geralt’s face in his hands. “We can stop, if it’s too much. It’s alright, I understand.”

He shakes his head a bit. “No, I want to keep going. I want you, Jask. Now and always.”

Jaskier smiles, kissing the tip of Geralt’s nose softly. “You’re so cheesy,” he whispers, earning him a chuckle from the Witcher. “Alright, we’ll keep going then. I just need to open myself up, first.”

Geralt smiles up at Jaskier. “May I?” And by all the gods, he’ll never forget the sight of Jaskier blushing softly at his request.

“Well, if you really want to. Most people just prefer that I do it myself, get it over with-”

“I want to.” He holds up his hand, and Jaskier puts the vial of oil he got from his bag in his palm, looping his slender arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt, in turn, pops open the vial, pouring some chamomile oil into his hand, spreading it around and between his fingers, before reaching behind Jaskier, pressing two fingers against his rim.

Jaskier hisses softly, pushing his hips back. “Gods, yes, just like that.” Geralt smiles, pressing soft kisses against Jaskier’s jaw, as he pushes one finger in, slowly but steadily, basking in the soft whimpers the bard lets out. “More,” Jaskier demands, almost immediately, and Geralt can’t help but chuckle at that.

“You’re so needy,” he whispers, but obliges anyways, pulling the finger out, before pushing two back in. Jaskier moans softly, arching his back, pushing his hips back against Geralt’s hand. He slowly works Jaskier open, only adding a third finger when the bard is practically begging for it.

“Do you need a fourth finger?” he whispers and Jaskier frantically shakes his head.

“No, just need you. Please, Geralt-”

He chuckles softly, taking the vial of oil again, slicking his cock up, Jaskier’s hungry eyes following his movements. “Alright, alright, no need to get impatient.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes at him, but bats his hand away, giving Geralt’s cock a few firm strokes that leave the Witcher’s head spinning, before positioning himself just above the tip. Gently, slowly, he lowers himself on Geralt’s cock, eyelashes fluttering softly as he pants, the Witcher’s hands settling on his hips just to have something to hold on to.

Once Jaskier’s fully seated, he stills for a few seconds, hands on Geralt’s shoulders, breath coming out in shallow bursts, red-kissed lips parted slightly.

“Alright?” Geralt asks, wiping Jaskier’s sweaty hair from his forehead, fingers trailing down to the bard’s lips. Jaskier smiles at him, kissing his fingers softly.

“Better than alright.” Geralt can’t help but smile back.

Slowly, Jaskier pushes himself up, before dropping down again, impaling himself on Geralt’s cock, moaning softly. “Fuck, Geralt, feels so good...” He does it again and again and again, and Geralt lets him take the lead, his hands only tightening around the bard’s hips and helping him fuck himself on Geralt’s cock when he senses that Jaskier’s getting tired.

He forgets about his own pleasure, as he watches Jaskier’s unfold across his face, watches the bard bite his lip, watches his eyelashes flutter, watches his mouth fall open, losing himself in the scent of roses and lemons and sweat and lust - committing every little detail to memory, just in case. He’s sure that if there’s a paradise, then he has found it right here, in Jaskier’s arms.

“Geralt, I’m close,” Jaskier whispers, and he realizes with a small start that, he himself, is as well, so lost in the man he loves that he’d forgotten about his own body.

He reaches between them, taking Jaskier’s leaking cock in his hand, giving him a few firm strokes. “Come for me, love,” he whispers, and Jaskier cries out, his head tipping back, spilling all over himself and Geralt. A few more thrusts later, Geralt comes as well, choking out Jaskier’s name.

They sit there for a while, softly panting, until Jaskier pulls himself off Geralt, collapsing onto the bed next to him. The Witcher, in turn, gathers all the strength he’s got, and pushes himself off the bed, walking to the wash basin with wobbly knees, wetting a cloth. He walks back to the bed, cleans the spend off the bard’s stomach and from between his legs, before cleaning himself.

He lies down on the bed, Jaskier scooting up until he’s got his head on Geralt’s shoulder, his arms around the Witcher. “So,” he eventually mutters. “Was I better than what you had in Inerith?”

Geralt smiles, pulling Jaskier closer. “Yes. You were perfect. You will always be perfect.”

“Hmm.” He hears Jaskier’s smile more than he sees it, feels lute-calloused fingertips tracing patterns into his skin.

“I meant what I said, earlier.” It’s important to him that Jaskier knows this, knows that he means it more than he’s meant anything in his life, that he didn’t just say it in the heat of the moment. “I love you.”

Jaskier smiles up at him. “I love you, too.” Geralt nods, feeling slightly relieved, looking up at the wooden ceiling.

He slowly lets himself get comfortable with the feeling of being happy. It’s strange and unfamiliar, and he still has to fight the thing in his gut that tells him this can be snatched away any moment - this might be snatched away any moment, but he slowly sinks into it, like a comfortable, soft bed after a long day.

He notices after a few minutes that Jaskier’s fallen asleep, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the bard. He really is beautiful like this - hair tousled, skin sticky with dried sweat, lips and cheeks rosy - and he’s more than Geralt can ever deserve. He leans back in the pillows, closing his eyes, eventually, and lets sleep overtake him.

Lets himself get used to the feeling of being happy, everything he’s ever wanted right here in his arms.

#m-hm #squish answers #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #smut #this isn't even a drabble anymore #the witcher fanfiction #it's 7.5k whoops #geralt is overwhelmingly in love with jaskier #don't convince me otherwise

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