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loousir · 11 months

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[Vampire] The only one

Vampire Male x Hunter Male Reader

Abel

Warnings/Notes: Mentions of blood, blood loss, knives, deep wounds, bandaging, nudity. I dunno, nothing crazy but part 2 coming soon. Will spice it up a bit with that one. I only went over this with a "proper" proof reading once so please forgive me

Part 2

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An infamous vampire you've been dueling with for the past decade has seemingly gone MIA. You didn't think much of it, assuming someone else ended him first or he had gone into hiding to plot his next move. Some days had gone by and there was no word of him, not even a confirmation he was dead. Not until you heard a weak knock at your door. You stood up from your arm chair and carefully opened the door. There knelt a battered and bruised body. It was covered in so much blood you couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.

The head lifted to reveal the slashed face of your rival, an awkward yet desperate expression on his face. "I'm sorry I... I didn't know where else to go..." He said weakly, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. You stared down at him, a shocked and confused expression crossing your face as you realized what was happening. "What the hell..." You whispered. You looked around to make sure no one else was nearby and pulled him in. He may have been your enemy but you knew all about him.

"You understand who I am right?" You asked, staring down at him with furrowed brows. He nodded weakly. "Fully..." He said softly, voice rough with a cough, spitting blood across your floor. As much as your brain had been fighting with yourself, against your better judgment you pulled him into the bathroom. With a grunt, you picked him up and put him in the bath tub, turning on the water and letting it warm slightly before hosing him down. He didn't care you were being rough with him. His eyes remained closed as the blood was washed down the drain.

You were kicking yourself in the ass. You should have just killed him as soon as you opened the door and moved on with your life. But there was something that was keeping you from doing it. Maybe it was your curiosity. Wanting to know why or how he became so infamous. Or why he was a mess on your doorstep. Once he was as clean as you could get him, you ripped his clothes off, knowing they were ruined anyways. "Why did you come to me." You asked, tossing the wet, bloodied clothes into the sink. He didn't respond for a moment as he helped you get the clothes off. "I really... Didn't know where else to go..." He paused and glanced up to you while you were turned away. "I dont have anyone to help me..." He whispered.

You looked at him with a confused expression, starting to rinse him off again. He was fully naked and neither of you really cared in this moment. "I left my Coven." You blinked a couple times, pausing the water for a moment. "You left your Coven?" You asked, trying to understand what he had just said. He nods, still looking up to you. Now that the blood had been washed away, the cut that covered his face became more visible. It trailed from the left of his hairline and across his nose, stopping just at his right cheek bone, nearly missing his eye. It wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches. Thankfully.

"They did one hell of a number on you..." You said softly, continuing to rinse any wounds that were bleeding and carefully washing any blood that had crusted onto his skin. He closed his eyes and let you do whatever to take care of him. "Why?" He looked up to you again before looking away soon after. "It's a lot..." He said softly, sitting up more so you could get to his back and hair. "We've got all the time in the world..." You said, looking at the deeper slashes across his back that would need to be stitched. His hair was matted with blood, mostly at the ends so it didn't take much to wash it out.

He sighed, trying to find where he wants to start. "I've been turned for 60 years already but I hadn't joined a Coven until I was 47. I'm still a fledgling in Vampire terms." You listened to his words as you finished up washing him. "I was so brainwashed and dedicated to the Coven that I let them use me as a scape goat." He paused as you helped him out, sitting him down on the toilet and drying him off. You weren't sure if he could get sick but put a towel over his head to help soak up any leftover water. "Then we met." He paused as you stepped out to grab bandages as things you needed to patch him up.

"And you made me realize that I was just being used. So I did some digging around to find out what they were doing." You started with his legs, bandaging and stitching where it was needed, to which he didn't seem to mind. "And I'm sure you know... Considering you were pitted to hunt me and kill me." He said softly, tone changing a bit. You knew all too well. It was engraved into you. He was accused of committing mass genocide, and to say it was simply killing and drinking their blood was an understatement. You always assumed he had been some sort of all powerful ancient. It makes sense even if part of you didn't believe him. "Holy shit dude." You said, looking up to him. His expression was flicking between emotions. Shifting from anger, to sadness, to regret as he thought about everything that had happened.

You were onto his arms by now, leaving his torso and face til last. "Yeah. I'm sorry... For causing you trouble." He said softly. You shook your head. "Listen. As long as you, yourself, haven't killed anyone... I can't hold anything against you. Putting the facts together... There's no fucking way a towns worth of people could disappear in a night like that... Not without multiple parties." His eyes flicked up to look at you. Your expression held one of anger. You felt like you had been lied to as well. The hunters you were working for had to have known there was no way it was just one vampire doing this. There was definitely something going on. You had your suspicions on it but this confirms it.

He lifted his hand and placed it on your head gently, getting you to look up to him once more. "Thank you." He said softly, a tiny smile crossing his lips. You sighed and shook your head. "I dont really believe in people who are considered your 'allies' trying to kill you." You said, moving to work on his chest which wasn't nearly as bad as his back. His hand falls back to his side as he watches your hands work for a bit. "Just stay here for a while. Stay on the down low. I'll see what I can find out." You said softly, standing up from your kneeling position. "Let's go lay you down so I can do your back." You said softly, helping him stand and taking him into your bedroom. You didn't have a spare room and wasn't going to let him sleep on the couch. "On your stomach. Just be careful." You said, sitting him on the edge before letting him adjust as you went to grab the stuff from the bathroom.

"Are you hungry?" You asked, stepping back in. He was laying like a corpse with his eyes closed, opening them to look at you again for a moment. He looked away with what seemed like shame and didn't answer. "Hello?" You asked, leaning over the side of the bed to get started on his back. "I dont want to say yes..." He said softly. You nodded even though he couldn't see it. "Let me finish your back and I'll get you something." You said softly, phrasing it as if you weren't going to let him feed off of you.

Some time had passed as you carefully stitched his wounds. Neither of you spoke much and before too long, you had finished up and grabbed him some loose shorts to wear for the time so he wasn't buck naked. "Go easy for a while. Don't even think about ripping one of those stitches." You said, with a lighter tone as you left again to pack away the supplies you had brought out as well as dispose of the bloodied rags he had walked in with and clean the trail that had been left from your door. Thankfully no one really questioned when you came home covered in blood or took out soiled clothes as they were fully aware if what you did. It also helps it was the middle of the night.

Once you came back in, you make your way back to the bedroom to see him sitting up and looking at some of the decor that lined the walls. You grabbed a knife off of your night stand and sat on the bed next to him. He looked over to you as you held your palm up, slicing it open in front of him. His eyes widened as he grabbed your wrist. "The hells did you do that for?!" He asked, putting pressure so it didn't bleed much. "You said you were hungry. So eat." He shook his head and grabbed the role of bandages you left behind, trying to patch it up but you pushed it away. "I'll get you something tomorrow. Just for now."

He stared at you with wide eyes, looking from your hand back to your serious expression. "Eat, Abel." You said, using his true name. Abel went by several aliases and had no clue you even knew his real name. With great hesitance, he drank the blood that flowed from your palm. Albeit unintentionally, he hummed at the taste, enjoying the flavour. "Good to know I'm tasty." You teased lightly, a small smile crossing your lips. He looked up to you for a moment before looking away bashfully. "I didn't mean-" "I was teasing." You cut him off and pulled your hand back. "You can feed from me if needed but I'd be more than happy to find something when I go out tomorrow."

Abel looked back to you with a sweet gaze. "Thank you." He said softly. You nodded your head and stood up. "Keep a low profile. I could get in trouble if they knew I was housing you here. You are a wanted fugitive after all. By both human, and vampire terms." Abel smiled again and grabbed your hand, wrapping it up to make sure it didn't bleed anymore than it already had. "Rest well." He bid you as you walked back out.

Part 2

#male monster x reader #monster male #monster x male reader #exophilia #m4m #male reader #x male reader #x monster male #male x male reader

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nothums-from-tj · 1 year

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I am deprived of Rasey content bc brain rot is real. As they say: if you want content you gotta make it yourself </3

Unfortunately I have only seen up to early-ish s3 so Mona is not included as I have not met her. That said, I give u 2012 Rasey hcs:

at the start of their relationship they try to keep things rough/“casual” so like there was no gentle moments it was just essentially roughhousing (their usual things) with romantic intent until they accidentally fell asleep together once and Casey found out Raph is a sleep cuddler and his heart absolutely melted, even when Raph woke up Casey kept his arm around him and they just stayed like that for hours until Casey told him that he’s so adorable being all snuggly and he got so red about to push Casey off and dismiss this vulnerable moment but Case kept him close and kissed his head and now Raph can’t get enough it’s his favorite thing

Raph teases Casey so bad, like not even in a s/xual context he’s just so playfully mean and Casey sometimes pulls a scene and acts like it’s the worst thing he’s ever heard when it’s really just annoying at worst (“LOL Casey I can’t believe you have a crush on me” “you’re literally my boyfriend” “so embarrassing 4 u”)

Casey texts Raph while he’s in class all the time, sometimes it’s dumb selfies from ridiculously unflattering angles (typically from under his desk) though it’s usually complaining about a class, teacher, or classmate; if he stops responding suddenly, especially while he was still typing, he knows his phone was confiscated and he always thinks it’s so funny

I’m torn on whether they’d set one another’s contact names as super sweet/sappy things (“my darling🥰” “baby boy❤️” “babe🖤” “sweetheart💕” “my love” “my baby” “forever and ever” among other variations) or if they’d be legitimate insults in the most affectionate way (“dork” “loser” “dummy” “geek” “nutjob” “screwball” among others) bc Raph is the romantic however they’re also both besties and I at least think Raph could go in either direction; either way they’d both set contact photos as the least flattering images they could find if each other

based off of @cloudywithachanceofautism’s hc of them refusing to go to bed angry w each other: it happened One Time on accident after this rule was set, Casey was at a game that night and his phone died when he thought it was charging (bc we love technology /s) and having both entirely forgotten about whatever they got mad at earlier during the game and not realizing his phone is still dead, he just went to bed after getting home; meanwhile Raph was calling nonstop for at least an hour or two after the time he knows Casey gets home from his games and was nearly having a breakdown (not that he’d ever admit it) bc he doesn’t want their relationship to get ruined over something so dumb and he started spiraling a little; Casey realized his phone was dead after he woke up and once it was charged enough to turn on and saw like 114 missed calls from Raph he remembered the argument and he calls him first thing profusely apologizing and explaining the situation and they’re really fragile for about a week following

to go with the hc that ‘12 Raph can knit (from the ‘03 clip) I think he’d just knit Casey socks or gloves or something come the colder seasons, he picks on him a little for being a “softie” however he savors them as much as possible bc he thinks it’s the sweetest thing in the world (Raph knits socks for his brothers too, they’re all very appreciative)

April also got Casey into both Animal Crossing and Stardew Valley, Raph picks on him for that too and yet always watches over his shoulder when he’s playing (he’d prob marry Abigail or Sebastian in Stardew as they’re the most like Raph)

Raph manages to get into certain musicals and drags Casey right down with him (thinking “Mamma Mia!”, “Legally Blonde”, and “Mean Girls”; Mikey got him into “Hairspray” and “Heathers” too and he loves them, just don’t top the previous 3)

they do couples costumes their first Halloween together, Casey tries to get them in the dumb comedic ones though Raph keeps setting a hard boundary on that; they do gay ships instead whether or not they’re canon: Fred and Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, Michiru and Haruka from Sailor Moon, I have my own however I’ll stick to these common ones for now bc they r just as good

also when they started their relationship, while they were still adjusting to more affection they would cope by calling each other gay (“*smooch* that was gay” “you’re the one who kissed me, doofus”), and when they got a little more comfortable Casey would start saying “pog” or “that was so poggers” after they’d kiss bc he thought it was funny to see Raph so annoyed like that

behind Raph’s back, Casey would take care of or at least talk about Chompy like he were their child (Raph would probably cry a little of sheer joy if he ever found out)

from cloudywithachanceofautism’s other hc of Raph preferring words of affirmation and Casey preferring physical affection: while Raph absolutely adores having somebody who’s as affectionate with him as he is with his brothers, it’s especially when Casey says things like “it’s ok to be angry, y’know” “you wanna talk about it?” “I’ve got you, it’s ok” “I’ll take care of you” “are you ok?” “Want me to handle it?” anything to do w his mental health and anger bc these poor kids haven’t really known how to deal w it growing up, especially since Splinter isn’t the most emotional parent, and it just makes him feel seen and loved and he always melts in Casey’s arms (“if you wanted a hug you can just ask you know” “doesn’t mean you didn’t need to hear it”)

tying into the previous: Raph also still melts whenever he’s called cute or pretty however when it’s in front of his family he tries to call him lame and a sap affectionately and then he’d let himself be vulnerable with Casey when they’re alone

despite Raph being little, he’s significantly heavier than Casey given he’s nothing but muscle and his shell adds some density (plus Casey’s super scrawny), unfortunately Casey learns this the hard way by trying to be chivalrous and pick his bf up and nearly falls flat and Raph laughs for like 10 minutes straight; Casey isn’t always a fan of being easily lifted by his tiny bf though he’ll embrace it when he’s in a super sappy/affectionate moment and accept it when they’re doing like “couples’ exercises” together and Casey can be used as a weight for him to lift, it’s very funny in his own opinion

given Splinter’s time in America as a human was very brief, I would think he didn’t get to learn a lot of American customs so what the turtles grew up with was mostly Japanese culture and we know they know some of the Japanese language, probably more than what’s shown in canon too; that said, there are probably things they say or do that are confusing to both Casey and April and sometimes has to explain that they’ve just never heard of some of these things before

with that: romance and topics of love are much more conservative in Japanese culture, also the holidays are more for romantic partners rather than friends and family; so like Raph would sneak into Casey’s window Christmas Eve and be very surprised to see him not with his family for the night (not that he’s not happy to see him), or like he’ll try to find a tea stalk in his cup every single date and see if it goes vertical (superstition here) and Casey has no idea why Raph is smiling into his tea when he does, or even one of the most common showings of a couple are matching clothes so Raph will sometimes try to do it subtly when given the chance before they start dating and Casey has no idea why; Splinter thinks this is all very cute and is very proud of his kid

Casey’s the one who introduces hot chocolate to the turtles (“Casey, they’re turtles, they can’t be having that!” “Mutant turtles, April—I don’t think they even know what they can or can’t have!”) and has to eventually take it away from Raph and Mikey bc they became very hooked, Raph still tries to be extra affectionate to get it back which would probably work if it wasn’t for death glares from Leo and Splinter every time bc the last thing they need is a sugar addiction (though Splinter is very pleased about candy canes during the season bc they’re both very rare and very expensive in Japan)

Casey eventually starts to work out more for several reasons, one of which being able to pick up Raph so they eventually have strength and speed contests every time they see each other to who can pick the other up first and how high they can go (Raph tries to claim the “highest” part is unfair as Casey is literally over half a foot taller than him)

alternatively: “Why are you holding Raph like that?” “He likes to be tall.”

on summer nights, they’ll sneak to a closed amusement park just to walk around and Raph would probably play jungle gym on the rollercoasters so the two of them would just sit at the top bump of a track and watch over the city, otherwise playing whatever games that didn’t need to be shut down or need a lot of setting up so they could set it back up before they leave and maybe one or the other would steal just one stuffed animal for one another (not like a huge one, just like one of the “first tier” prizes that there’s a million of); maybe go see botanical/serenity gardens if possible, drive-in movie theaters, or like if Casey and April have some means of access to a public pool they’d probably sneak into that too (Raph getting so excited to go swimming with his turtle instincts and then takes a huge breath under water to come back up coughing and sputtering bc it’s not freshwater it’s chlorine and he didn’t know that was a thing); I just really like the thought of them doing public dates they r so cute

🚫TC//T DNI🚫 ANY MENTION OF AFFECTION AMONG THE BROTHERS IS PURELY PLATONIC

#tmnt 2012 #rasey #raph x casey #casey x raph #tj shares #tj writes #headcanons #hcs

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daughterofthereaper02 · 2 years

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Put this off for whenever your free to write so you can focus on your fic - but reader sacrifices herself for Rooster instead of Mav and no one can go back for her, not even search and rescue (Rooster feels guilty and sad cause reader was the youngest and adored by everyone - maybe she’s Cyclone’s daughter) So everyone goes home upset, but a few months later reader rocks up out of nowhere like ‘what did I miss’. Super angsty and fluffy at the end, maybe you could write a little on what happened to reader.

A/n: I can not put this off for long! It is too good. I now have three new requests but I have been itching to write this! Kathrine just fit for how I imagined the reader and her being cocky, sorry for anyone who hates when people do that!

Warnings: Mentions crashing, torture, frostbite

Rooster sat at the bar at The Hard Deck, drinking some hard liquor that Hangman recommended. It was now officially four months since they lost you on the Unrianum mission. You were Lt. Y/n 'Blizzard' Simpson, daughter of Vice Admiral Simpson, although you tried to hide it because you didn't get along with your father.

It was fresh in all of their brains as Cyclone went off on all of them today, he was understandably upset but so were they. You had been close to them all before you-, he couldn't even bare the thought of you being dead. You were nothing like your name to them, you were the sweetest person in the world. You were younger than them all, but you were wicked in the skies. It was almost over when that missile went for him, you stopped it though.

They all freaked when no one could go back for you, not even search and rescue. They had no idea if you were alive or not, if you made it through the crash, there was nothing left because they couldn't get there. Now they were left with the memory of you, your smile and laugh, your quick jokes, just gone.

The bar was about to close thankfully, the only ones in there were Penny, the Dagger Squad, and Maverick.

"Well this is dull, I at least expected music!" You laughed as you walked through the door. Everyone turned and stared at you, "Um... You guys are seeing what I'm seeing, right?" Hangman asked, "Or am I drunk?" he continued. "Nope... definitely seeing it," Bradley said in shock. "What? I know the scar is new but I thought I looked okay?" You joked, a long white scar running across your face from the left side of your forehead, over your nose, and down your right cheek.

"You're alive?" Phoenix breathed as you walked over, you took Bradley's drink and sipped it, a smirk on your face, "Ain't that easy to kill me," you chuckled. It was obvious you went through hell, you were colder than you used to be.

She tackled you in a hug and you nearly cried in relief from the first decent human contact you have had in months. "I missed you, bestie," you whispered jokingly, a broken chuckle leaving you as you started to cry.

Everyone piled in on the hug, all of them crying as they realized you were alive and there.

You were going to enjoy having them with you, maybe even makeup with your dad. After the crash, you were stuck and suffering from injuries and soon frostbite. The enemy captured you eventually and kept you for two months, torturing you once and a while until you escaped. You got to a nearby Naval base in that country, and from there you were taken care of but no one was allowed to be notified about you. You were then taken into custody as you were briefed and cleared mentally. You only got back to America today and came back to your family.

Everyone knew, don't ask yet, just enjoy having their friend back.

Taglist:

@peaches-and-sunshine

@natasharomanoffisbaebby

@sweetheartlizzie07

@lollypop90907

@jamiedontbeacracko

@fandomstanner24

@casperlikej

@lyn07

@luckyladycreator2

@spidermankenobi

@fangirlofallthings22

@teti-menchon0604

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #pete maverick mitchell #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #top gun x reader #platonic #rooster x platonic! reader

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lucyatthegym3 · 2 years

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(ED TWs apply, reader caution is advised, mostly a personal vent)

xoxo to my past self for documenting everything meticulously, so when i go back to look at old LW body checks, i'm also forced to scroll through tonnes of photos of my face documenting an exercise in utter human misery. my eyes look dead. i look so tired and dull and miserable, and it forces me to remember that i was. photos of me crying are the most emotion i show, every smile that i see looks so painfully forced it's practically a grimace. photos of me laying down on the yoga mat at the gym because i'd literally lost all sensation in my hands, they'd gone numb while i was running. i'd been fasting for a while. i had to stop running because i got scared, i literally couldn't feel my arms, so i went to lay down, and watched the clock ticking in fear - if i spent too long on the mat, i wouldn't have time to finish my exercises before the gym closed. i wouldn't meet my targets. the thought made me cry.

here's the thing. i never want to be that person again. photos of me in recovery are - i look radiant. the life is back in my eyes, there is genuine joy in my smile. i have accomplished so much since then. stuff that, if i relapsed, i wouldn't be able to hold onto.

in this relapse season, i do admit to periodically taking a look at those old photos. i'll admit something here that i'll chalk up to medschool keeping me busy & money being tight in real life. i do want to lose weight again. i know that i can never seek the comfort of an empty stomach again. i know that i can never go back to my addiction without losing what i have - if i nearly dropped out during my last big relapse, i couldn't stand a chance at staying in medschool while in active ED. and i don't want to be back in active ED ever again - well. there's always going to be a part of me that does, but the real me doesn't. i can't and i don't want to return to my addiction, so i'm trying to navigate how to return to counting and exercise without relapse. i know i have to stay in certain parameters, that is, i can't go below certain numbers - both because of the inevitable race to the bottom that would ensue, but also because what past me would have considered a 'high cal restrict' is actually an amount that my brain was Rotting at. and listen, i am barely managing medschool as it is. shit's Hard. and i can't go back to my LW, clearly, as the only way to get there is the aforementioned brainrot. but i do miss my old recovery body - the recovery body before the recovery to end all recoveries. i feel like i have to give an inch because otherwise, down the line, i'll have another Big Bad relapse. i know a lot of people will disagree & that's fine, obviously, i'm not right about a lot of things but this is something i want to do and feel i have the right to choose for myself without being questioned any more than a non-eating disordered person, yk. yet i still don't want to tell people irl.

so it will have to be slow and measured, something i've never been good at, but i have to be this time. i've got more to fight for than ever, though, so that will carry me through.

#let this not age badly.

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

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Draw your swords, pt. 6

Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five

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Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.

He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.

It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.

They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.

Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.

Did she want to be found by him?

The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?

It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?

The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.

Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.

Why is he repeating the same mistakes?

How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?

His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.

She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.

While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.

He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.

“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.

“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.

Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.

Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.

Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.

As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.

She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.

“You think you’re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.

“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.

Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.

Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.

“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”

Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.

Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.

Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.

Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.

But he’s not human at all.

Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.

As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.

Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.

“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”

“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”

On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”

Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.

It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.

Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.

Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.

“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.

Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.

“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?

Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.

Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.

“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.

Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.

“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.

“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”

Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yes”, she breathes out.

Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.

“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”

Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.

Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.

He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.

“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.

Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.

When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.

As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?

Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.

Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.

A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.

Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.

Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.

Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.

No…Aleksander’s arms.

Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.

She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.

He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?

He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”

Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?

“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.

Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.

As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.

“I’d burn this world for you.”

=============================

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PART 7

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadown and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander kirigan #general kirigan x reader

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krappykawa · 4 years

Text

fake dating headcanons with atsumu, oikawa, and kuroo

ANON ASKED: “hi i really like your writing 🥺🥺 could i request fake dating with atsumu, oikawa, and kuroo? like they told their teams that they have a girlfriend but they dont lmao so they ask one of their classmates to pretend to be their gf so the team can meet her? and they end up falling for her along the way :)) i look forward to reading more of ur works!! 💖”

atsumu x f!reader, oikawa x f!reader, kuroo x f!reader

genre. fluff

warnings. language

word count. 6.3k

note. DAMN this one got away from me ... 6.3k words for a headcanon post ...... sorry anon i’m not sure if you wanted a long post but i mean, here we are lol

note 2. had to repost because something was up with the tags lol i hope it works fine this time

ATSUMU.

- the team has a favorite twin and it’s osamu, we all know it

- one day after practice, the team finds out that one of the first-years managed to get a girlfriend

- most of the inarizaki vb team is single at that point in time so it starts a conversation about relationships

- somewhere in the conversation, aran says, “osamu, man. I can’t believe ya haven’t gotten a girlfriend yet. yer easily one of the best-looking people in the school.”

- osamu just shrugs, but atsumu’s like “huh??”

- “hey ‘samu and i have the same face. don’t cha mean that we’re some of the best-looking people in the school??”

- the guys in the locker room exchange glances

- aran‘s like “look, atsumu. don’t blow up on me or anything, but most girls don’t really want to date you.” (keep in mind that aran’s strictly speaking about the girls that aren’t a part of the miya twins fan club)

- “and why the hell not?”

- at this point, aran’s looking at literally everyone in the room and pleading with his eyes for help because he doesn’t want to start a fight with atsumu

- suna takes pity on aran and says, “hate to break it you, miya, but girls don’t want to date a guy who’s a massive asshole”

- now, atsumu could care less if the entire goddamn world thinks he’s an asshole, but it rubs him the wrong way that his teammates think that osamu’s a better catch than he is

- sibling rivalry pride or whatever

- so atsumu goes “i think my girlfriend would disagree because oh will ya look at that, she’s dating me!”

- he was most definitely not dating anyone

- osamu raises an eyebrow at him because to his knowledge, atsumu didn’t have a girlfriend

- “since when did you have a girlfriend?”

- osamu looks at atsumu with knowing eyes and smirks. “yeah sumu, who’s this girlfriend of yours? I don’t think i’ve met her yet.”

- atsumu knows he’s gotten himself in some deep shit

- but still he’s still full of pride, so he says, “i’ll bring her by to practice tomorrow.”

- now miya atsumu has a dilemma because there are some things he just shouldn’t lie about (because now he’ll never live it down if he can’t figure out a way to get himself out of this one)

- atsumu knows that he’s got that fanclub that would probably be more than willing to date him, but the thought of being in their presence for longer than two seconds makes his skin crawl because he doesn’t think he could handle the excessive screaming

- so that night he decides to go to the bakery down the street that he frequents because they have some of the best macarons in town

- you’re one of the bakers at that bakery that works the shift when he usually comes in for his weekly macarons so you two are acquainted

- you also go to inarizaki, so you hear the rumors that circulate around atsumu, but you don’t really pay much attention to them because he’s not that bad whenever he comes into the bakery

- like sometimes if he tries to only order 2 macarons but notices that there are only 5 macarons left, he’ll buy them all just to make your life easier

- when he comes in that day, he has this troubled look on his face. “hey y/n. can i just have my usual? oh and an iced matcha.”

- you like to keep tabs on your regulars and what they order, so when he orders an iced matcha, you know that something’s probably up (he never orders drinks from there because he said that his brother would kill him if he didn’t bring him home a drink too and having to carry the two drinks up to their apartment is hassle enough)

- you’re in the middle of making his drink when you decide to ask him what’s up “everything alright?”

- it’s almost time to close up and you two are the only two left so you figured you had time for small talk

- “i may have outright lied to my team about havin’ a girlfriend.”

- “you don’t?” that surprises you because so many girls at your school have a crush on the miya twins (you would know because your best friend is practically in love with osamu)

- when atsumu shakes his head dejectedly, you don’t quite understand what he’s so down for

- “you do know that there are like 50 girls that are practically lining up to date you right?”

- “yeah, but they’d expect a real relationship and i’m no good at those.”

- “why not?”

- “i’m too argumentative, let's just say, plus i’ve been told that i kinda come off as an asshole.”

- “and volleyball right?” you would know since he always comes into the bakery after a practice and he looks like he’s both dead and alive

- when you hand him his matcha and packet of macarons, he pauses

- “listen, don’t take this the wrong way but yer single right?”

- you almost smile to yourself because wow for a guy so attractive, his way with words isn’t great

- “i am.”

- he stands there for a good 20 seconds just looking at you with that look in his eyes that tells you that he’s trying to ask you something but he doesn’t know how to do it

- “you want me to act as your fake girlfriend don’t you?”

- cue atsumu chuckle @%EUTYDJBCJWER)*&# hhhhfs

- “ya know, i’m kinda seein’ why i get called an asshole all the time. it doesn’t sound as great when ya’ say it like that.”

- you agree to pretend to be his girlfriend, but on the condition that your best friend will be able to tag along if osamu’s gonna be there

- and that’s the start of it

- you visit his practice the next day before work and his team looks at you in surprise because they were 100% sure that having a girlfriend was just another one of atsumu’s lies

- they all kinda stare at you a little extra too because you’re really pretty

- “aye, get yer asses back to volleyball and stop starin’ at my girl like that.”

- you know it’s all fake, but him saying that kinda makes you blush anyways

- when you first agreed to fake dating him, you weren’t expecting that you’d have to spend too much time with him (he did tell you that he wasn’t looking for a real relationship) but that changes because osamu’s insistent that atsumu should at least try to be a good boyfriend and eat lunch with you and stuff

- you’re both aware that osamu doesn’t buy your little arrangement one bit

- atsumu’s got this raging pride when it comes to his twin brother, so he actually listens because now he’s made it his personal mission to convince osamu that you and him are actually dating

- it takes a while for you two to get into the hang of it, but once you do, it’s like a regular routine

- you and your best friend eat lunch with the twins (you and atsumu both watch as your best friend fumbles her way into talking with osamu), you drop by before work to give atsumu a kiss on the cheek before practice, he drops by the bakery after practice nearly everyday, and you come to his games while wearing a jersey that he lent you

- his teammates like you a lot and tease atsumu all the time because they claim that you’re way too good for him

- surprisingly, he always gets a little protective when they say things like that and always slips an arm around your waist

- one day when you’re over at his apartment, you help atsumu learn how to make macarons (with some help from osamu)

- it takes a while because he would get mad at the macarons when they would come out in weird shapes

- “stupid macarons! they got it out for me i’m tellin’ ya! they’re being like that on purpose!”

- LITERALLY A CHILD

- you learn to like that about him though

- dates with him are usually on the weekends (you both drag osamu and your best friend out with you) and it’s always something fun that osamu suggests because atsumu wasn’t joking when he said he sucks at real relationships

- most of these dates consist of holding hands as you walk around the streets until osamu sees a restaurant he wants to try out

- he always insists on feeding you at least once in your meal

- he also loves doing the walrus-chopsticks face?? (he only started doing it because he liked hearing you laugh)

- as time passes, you two start going on dates without osamu and your best friend (atsumu always claims that it’s because he wants to show osamu up, but you start to notice that osamu doesn’t even find out about these dates most of the time)

- you secretly like these dates better than those with osamu and your best friend because atsumu feels more at ease and will develop a softer tone around you during these dates

- eventually, he starts to always greet you with a forehead kiss whenever you’re in public (you’re not sure if he does it just because his brother is watching, or if maybe he might be starting to like you)

- you try to make your brain forget that most of the time, he kisses your forehead before osamu even walks in

- one day after practice, you’re waiting for him because you didn’t have a shift at the bakery that day

- he walks out of the club room looking mildly pissed and you’re a little wary

- but then he gets to where you’re standing and just pulls your waist towards him and full on kisses you

- mind you, this is your first kiss on the lips with him

- it’s not a quick peck either, like you can hear the wolf whistles from his teammates in the back and you’re left breathing hard and flushed pink afterwards

- damn if that’s what his kisses are like, you suddenly wish he’d do it more often

- “what was that for?”

- “nothin’”

- sometime in the future you find out that he did that because his teammates were once again talking about your relationship and one of them joked that atsumu paid you to pretend to be his girlfriend

- he knew that what you had wasn’t necessarily real, but he just had the urge to kiss you then (he swears to you that he doesn’t know why)

- he does know why. it was because it was starting to slip his mind that your relationship was fake and the reminder made him a little mad at himself

- he realizes that maybe he’s fallen in love with you when osamu brings it up

- atsumu had asked for osamu’s help because he wanted to surprise you by making you mochis for your upcoming four month anniversary of being his fake girlfriend (typing this out was so funny, this man is so whipped he doesn’t know it)

- “ya know, when i first met y/n, i was sure that it was all fake and that you’d slip up about it one day. i guess i was wrong.”

- atsumu doesn’t say anything to that because in his head he’s trying to convince himself that “no. this is all still fake.” but it’s hard to convince himself of that when his hands are covered in the rice flower that he’s using to make your favorite dessert for your four months of faking being together

- he tries not to think about what osamu said when he gives you the gifts later that night

- he tries not to think about it when he gets that funny feeling that he’s been feeling for a while now when he sees the way you light up upon opening the box of mochis

- he most definitely tries not to think about it when you accidentally give him your second kiss of the relationship because you were caught up in the spur of the moment

- it’s on the way home back to his apartment that night that he realizes he’s fucked

- because good god he’s fallen for you

- he tries to break it off after that

- you’re confused at how sudden it is, but you let him break it off because at that point you’re already in love with him and are still too scared to say it because you keep remembering how he always said that he didn’t want a real relationship

- IDIOTS IN LOVE YOU'RE BOTH SO .

- he tries to go back to normal after that

- but for the love of everything he just . can’t

- his eyes always linger a little too long on the door right before practice because you would always come see him before going to work

- his feet would instinctively move in the direction of the bakery after practices until he realizes what he’s doing and forces himself to go home

- his eyes would scan for your figure wearing his jersey during games until he remembers that you probably weren’t there and that you most definitely wouldn’t be wearing his jersey

- he wants to kick himself because the reason he asked you to be his fake girlfriend in the first place was because he didn’t want a real relationship

- yet here he was. wallowing because if there’s anything more he wants, it’s a real relationship with you

- osamu gets fed up with him eventually

- “take yer ass to the bakery right after practice. i’m not letting you into the apartment until you see her.”

- and surprisingly, he actually listens to his twin brother

- he walks into the bakery for the first time in a while and says “hey y/n. can i just have my usual? oh and an iced matcha.”

- you look up at him then because you vividly remember that night. how could you not?

- you’re in the middle of making his drink when you decide to ask him what’s up “everything alright?”

- “i may have outright lied to myself about loving you.”

- you nearly drop the drink in your hands

- “‘tsumu? what are you on about?”

- “i know i said that i’m no good at real relationships. but i’ve found that i want to learn to be good.”

- a pause

- “i want to learn with ya.”

OIKAWA.

- this poor boy is always the butt of the jokes that come from his team

- seriously though. it’s always “tease oikawa day” (he teases them back so it’s all good)

- but one day, they’re all in the locker room when hanamaki brings up this girl that he’s planning on asking out because he’s not sure how to do it

- oikawa, being the little shit that he is, goes “step one, makki. have my face. step two, have my amazing personality. step three, ask her out.”

- he barely ducks in time to miss the shoe that comes flying towards his head

- “makki! such unbecoming behavior! my advice is perfect!”

- matsukawa snorts and says “perfect advice my ass. you can’t even get anyone to like you. let alone go out with you, crappykawa.”

- “don’t spread lies, mattsun.” oikawa clicks his tongue like a mother scolding his child. “or do you seem to forget the dozens of confessions i get on the daily along with the girls that you three complain about all the time because ugh shittykawa’s gonna make us late if he keeps talking to them” (he’s so dramatic lol he says that last part in this weird, whiny voice)

- iwaizumi scoffs. “doesn’t count when you reject every single one.”

- “i do not!”

- “right. right. as if you don’t make them cry because you’re so nice about rejecting them too.” (oikawa frowns at that one because he doesn’t mean to make them cry)

- “yeah, shittykawa, you’re pretty bad at love in general. i’d die before listening to your advice.” (this one is from matsukawa)

- “there’s also the fact that the girlfriend’s you did have all broke up with you because you would rather cuddle with a volleyball than cuddle with them.” (this one is from hanamaki)

- oikawa scowls at them “i don’t cuddle my volleyball.”

- “sure you don’t. just like you most definitely don’t have a name for it either.”

- “leave iwa-chan the second out of this!” (he drew an angry face on his volleyball too because he claims it looks like iwaizumi)

- iwaizumi groans. “i hate you. so so much.”

- at this point, oikawa knows they’re right, but he’s also really prideful. “and besides. i would suggest taking my advice because i got a girlfriend just today!”

- he most definitely did not

- “sure you did. hey mattsun, i bet a week tops until she breaks up with him.”

- “nah i’ll bet five days.”

- after practice, oikawa came up with a plan for the next day to get himself out of the hole he dug for himself

- he usually got confessions before school, so he told iwaizumi that he was going to school early to practice and instead waited for a girl to confess to him

- but the moment he saw this second-year walk up to him with a little box, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it

- he couldn’t do that to this innocent girl

- and he tries to say yes to her. he really does.

- but he can practically hear his older sister’s voice yelling at him about how “even when you get popular and get confessions from people left and right, i don’t want you leading anyone on. you only accept a confession if you actually like them.”

- he’s probably more scared of his sister than he is of his own mother, so he says no to that second-year, even when she starts to frown and walk away

- he’s leaning against the gym and rubbing the bridge of his nose when he hears you

- “everything alright?”

- you two were pretty close because he found out that you had a crush on iwaizumi in your second year and tried to set you two up (it didn’t work because he’s pretty bad at being a wingman)

- even when iwaizumi rejected you, oikawa had already grown to like your presence, so you two stayed friends despite how his best friend broke your heart

- “y/n-chan! what are you doing here so early?”

- “just returning a book to the library before the librarian knocks down my door and kicks my ass for having an overdue library book. what are you doing here so early?”

- “would you believe me if i said that i was practicing volleyball?”

- you look him up and down, and the smell of fresh cologne reaches your nostrils. his uniform is neatly put together.

- “looking like that? no, no i would not.”

- “well, what would you believe?”

- “i don’t know .. the truth maybe?”

- “the truth is embarrassing and is defamation to my good name.” that makes you raise your brow at him.

- “okay now i only want to hear the truth. i will not accept anything but the truth. now tell me, what kind of embarrassment have you proved yourself to be this morning?”

- “so mean, y/n-chan! now i see why you so very adored our precious iwa-chan.”

- you groan because you don’t want to remember that rejection. “oh just hurry up and embarrass yourself instead of embarrassing me.”

- “but it’s quite embarrassing.”

- “come on, spit it out.”

- “i may or may not have told iwa-chan, makki, and mattsun that i have a girlfriend when i don’t have one.”

- you look at him like he’s the dumbest person you’ve ever met, because at that moment, you really believed that he was. “couldn’t you just … i don’t know … accept one of your many, many confessions?”

- oikawa tells you about his fear of his sister and the second-year that just confessed to him

- you find yourself admiring his sister because she’s probably the one person on this planet that can humble oikawa tooru (the next person to be able to do so will be you, but you don’t know that yet)

- after hearing his explanation you get an idea. “can’t you ask someone to fake being in a relationship with you? you know, so you don’t get the angry sister devil/angel thing on your shoulder?” (LOL if you don’t get what the angel/devil thing that i’m talking about is, it’s like when you have an imaginary angel and a devil that sits on your shoulders and criticizes every choice you make)

- “are you offering, y/n?” he has that shit-eating grin on his face again, so you know he’s mostly joking

- “hmm, i don’t know. i think you’ll have to formally ask me to be your fake girlfriend. it’s only polite after all.”

- oikawa blinks for a second because he didn’t actually think you were serious. “what?”

- “are you going to ask me to be your fake girlfriend or not? maybe throw in a flower and i’ll say yes.”

- oh. oh.

- well, he wasn’t going to let what might be his only opportunity to get someone to fake date him pass by

- he looks around and sees a small flower on the ground and picks it

- he takes both your hands and puts the flower in one of them before saying, “y/n-chan will you, take me, oikawa tooru, as your loving pretend boyfriend, and save me from irrevocable embarrassment?”

- you laugh in his face because he’s trying so hard not to laugh through his “proposal.”

- “minus points for not getting on one knee but i guess i do.”

- you mainly did it because you may have already gotten rejected by iwaizumi, but you did like the possibility of being friends with him, and fake dating oikawa would probably let you do that

- you also kind of felt bad for oikawa, knowing that he wasn’t exaggerating how embarrassing it would be if his teammates found out he was lying

- when you and oikawa walk up to the seijoh third-years while holding hands, makki and mattsun are jostling each other while iwaizumi looks mildly surprised

- “see matsun! pay up!”

- oikawa and you both look in surprise as mattsun reluctantly shoves a few bills into makki’s awaiting hand

- oikawa’s looking between them both. “what bet did you use me for this time?”

- “i bet mattsun that you and y/n secretly liked each other.”

- blink blink

- iwaizumi sees the mildly awkward situation brewing so he says, “anyways, y/n if you ever get tired of this dumbass, you’re more than welcome into our group. we’ll just kick oikawa out.”

- after that, you and oikawa fall into a dating routine easily (you have a pretty busy schedule too so both you and oikawa understand each other schedules well)

- usually this is where oikawa’s relationships fail. he spends so much time with volleyball and the team that he doesn’t really spend time with his significant others

- it’s different with you though. maybe it’s the fact that the stakes aren’t so high because it’s only a fake relationship after all, or maybe it’s because unlike his past significant others, you don’t mind spending most of your time and “dates” with the other seijoh third-years, or maybe it’s because he remembers that locker room conversation and he wants to prove to makki, mattsun, and iwaizumi that he can be a good boyfriend (even if it’s a good fake boyfriend)

- dates with oikawa are usually laid-back because he’s tired from practice (so like walks in the park, getting ice cream, or study dates where you don’t get much done because you spend most of it just laughing and cooking in his kitchen)

- you find that he’s secretly a decent cook (the only thing keeping from saying that he’s a good cook is because he can’t cut vegetables for his life, and he also managed to accidently burn the onions you were trying to caramelize).

- neither of you acknowledge the fact that since nobody’s there to see those dates, you two technically don’t have to go on them since it’s only a fake relationship

- oh and takeru LOVES you

- seriously. he thinks you’re probably the coolest person ever (he tells you one day that he thinks you’re even cooler than oikawa and oikawa is a pouting mess the rest of your day. you can only pull him out of his slump when you jump on his back and force him to run to the bakery and buy milk bread)

- sometimes you’ll come with oikawa when he needs to watch takeru

- as takeru teaches you how to receive a volleyball, oikawa will watch you two with a little smile on his face (this loser is so whipped like man people passing by reminisce on how they were young and in love once because oikawa looks at you like that. oikawa doesn’t notice that he’s doing it though.)

- you sometimes spend time at his house with iwaizumi or on select days just by yourself (mostly for study dates or for watching weird sci-fi movies that oikawa seems to love)

- since you’re at his house so often, oikawa’s mother takes a liking to you because “you finally got her boy to care about something that isn’t volleyball.”

- it’s when oikawa groans a “moooom” in response that you start to feel those pesky butterflies

- oikawa will run up to you after games and just hold you tightly (he tells himself that it’s because his fan club and the team are watching, but really it’s because he can’t thank you enough for being there because he just plays better when you’re watching)

- my god, dUDE . he has no idea that he loves you like . MAN .

- mattsun, makki, and iwaizumi always tease oikawa about how you’re so much cooler than him

- oikawa whines to you and says, “y/n-channn they’re being mean again!”

- “what do you want me to do about it?”

- oikawa pouts like the baby he is and says, “kiss,” while pointing to his cheek. you give in and a round of groans comes from mattsun and makki. oikawa looks so smug and those pesky stomach feelings come back. iwaizumi is smiling to himself.

- speaking of iwaizumi

- you two become best friends after he finds you looking dejected as you wait for oikawa to get out of practice. you confided with him about how your relationship was all pretend. you might have also told him that you may be teensy bit in love with his captain

- iwaizumi tells you that, “there are some things you just ... can’t fake. the way that shithead looks at you is one of them. trust me.”

- he also tells you that his suspicion that you and oikawa had this weird spark was what kept him from ever reciprocating your feelings and why he rejected you (oikawa literally tried being your wingman before by texting iwaizumi things like “did you see how pretty y/n was today? don’t you think she was pretty?” and “iwa-chan! y/n is so funny and that’s coming from me, so she really is funny! i think maybe you should talk to her to see what i’m talking about (≧◡≦)”)

- at this point everyone knows that you’re in love with oikawa for real (except for oikawa himself)

- everyone also knows that oikawa’s fallen for you (except for oikawa himself, and you because you refuse to believe it)

- the moment he realizes he’s in love with you is on another one of those dates that you both know you don’t have to have but still choose to have anyway

- you’re making milk bread and he’s helping to measure the ingredients when he turns around to see you covered in flour and he just kinda stops

- and he realizes

- like yeah he’s been getting that small tugging feeling with you a lot over these past few months

- but now he finally realizes it’s because he’s in love with you

- he’s staring for a long time and for a second you think he’s going to make fun of your flour-coated self, but he’s staring at you with that look and you’re confused

- “everything okay? is there something wrong? did you mess up the measurements?”

- then an idea hits him

- “something’s wrong. it’s kind of embarassing though.”

- “what is it?”

- “no but it’s really embarrassing.”

- “what .. what is it?”

- cue cheeky little grin. “i think i might’ve fallen in love with my fake girlfriend. i don’t have another flower to ask her out though. i hope she doesn’t say no.”

- you kiss him for the first time then and take pride in the fact that you get him covered in flour in the process

KUROO.

- it happened the second day that you were at the tokyo training camp

- kuroo was with bokuto and a few of the karasuno first-years when bokuto started telling the first-years that kuroo had a girlfriend because he saw kuroo helping you carry your bags the day before (listen . this man is like . clueless when it comes to emotions sometimes i’msosorry)

- kuroo got this confused look on his face because he thought he would remember getting a girlfriend. “i do?”

- “don’t you? remember the girl you were holding hands with yesterday?”

- this was all some big misunderstanding

- so basically what happened was this: you’re shinzen’s team manager and you were tasked with carrying bags of equipment to the training center. kuroo was waiting for kenma to finish talking with lev (more like trying to avoid though lmao) and noticed that you were struggling so he came over to help

- kuroo figured that bokuto must’ve seen him holding the bags for you and assumed that something must’ve been going on (or maybe he looked over for the split second when kuroo held your hand in order to transfer the bags to his hand)

- he was about to clear things up when lo and behold, you walked into the gym

- “kuroo look! it’s your girlfriend! hey, come join us!”

- bless bokuto’s soul. bless that poor, oblivious soul.

- you walked up to them and looked at kuroo like “what??”

- you remembered him from the day before, but you didn’t remember ever agreeing to being his girlfriend of any sort

- he smiled apologetically at you and asked to talk to you on the side

- “what’s going on? why did he call me your .. girlfriend?”

- “look i’m sorry, bo’s a little … i don’t know. he saw me carrying your bags yesterday and assumed. i’ll clear things up, don’t worry.”

- when you two headed back to where bokuto is standing, it was obvious that kuroo’s smooth-sailing explanation wasn’t happening anytime soon

- because lev was there, and so was yaku

- “KUROO-SENPAI? THIS IS YOUR GIRLFRIEND? SHE’S VERY PRETTY SENPAI!” (bless lev’s soul too. another part of the extremely oblivious club.)

- yaku took no hesitation in teasing kuroo. “since when does kuroo ever get any girl to like him? this is new. no offense, of course.”

- kuroo tried clearing up the air by saying, “guys- listen this has all been som-“

- hinata doesn’t let him finish either lmao “YOU’RE THE TEAM MANAGER FOR SHINZEN!” (extremely oblivious club member number 3 here)

- “a team manager, kuroo? what’d you do to get her to say yes? is she a chemistry nerd too?”

- “bo-“

- they kinda just went like that back and forth, and kuroo kept getting interrupted

- you were just laughing to the side because it was kind of funny

- you also kinda felt bad for kuroo because damn his friends had like no faith in his romantic skills at all??

- maybe that was what made you say it, but after his friends were done teasing him you said, “he’s kind of a catch though, don’t you think? nerdy and funny is a girl’s dream isn’t that what they say?”

- kuroo blinked at you because what??

- once kuroo got you alone by asking you to take a walk outside of the gym, he asked, “so … what does this make us?” (surprise, surprise, he never got the chance to tell them about the misunderstanding)

- you just shrugged because really how bad could this be? “i felt bad at how much they were teasing you, so we could keep up the fake boyfriend/girlfriend thing for the week. it shouldn’t be too bad. plus it’ll save you the embarrassment of having to tell your friends that you didn’t actually get a girlfriend.”

- you guys did pretty good for the week of the training camp

- you’d cheer him on in secret if he got a spike or a block during a practice game while simultaneously still watching shinzen’s game

- you two walked around the halls when bokuto was watching just to keep up pretenses

- you learned that he’s a major nerd during these walks, which you found really endearing

- on the last day of camp, he tried to throw pieces of broccoli in your mouth (he didn’t stop until he finally got it in after his 9th try)

- you guys initially planned to “break up” after the camp was over

- but here comes bokuto again

- “hey y/n! kuroo, akaashi, and i were gonna go out for karaoke tomorrow if you wanna join.”

- you grew to like bokuto too so you said you’d come

- it was actually a really fun night

- you and kuroo sang a duet together

- he also stole some of your ramen

- you took a video of bokuto as he serenaded akaashi

- when you guys are leaving to go home, bokuto goes “you two are so cute. y/n do me a favor and don’t break up with kuroo until after the qualifiers would you? i wanna play him at his full game.” (again. seriously, he basically is the greatest accidental wingman ever)

- “we can’t break his heart, can we?”

- “no, we can’t.”

- and so your fake relationship starts

- you don’t get to visit each other often because you don’t live in the same vicinity, but you guys text often (it’s a friend thing, you both swear to yourselves)

- on weekends when kuroo’s not spending time with kenma, he’ll ask you to meet him at a park or a cafe (you two always send selfies to bokuto during every date)

- dates with him are always really fun because he’s spontaneous and also very active so sometimes he’ll take you by the hand and just drag you places

- he is not afraid to smear different colors of ice cream on your nose and call you some obscure name from some really old movie that he may have watched that week

- he also makes you push him on the swings

- the little kids get mad because what is this rooster man doing taking up a swing when he’s so old

- you laugh at him when the kids eventually come up to him and ask if they can use the swing

- dates will usually last the whole day because you’re both fine with just walking around and randomly finding stuff to do

- with all that time spent talking, you two also get to know each other really well

- like basically your life stories

- it took him a while to open up and at first he insists that you tell your story first, but after a while you notice how he starts letting little things about his life slip here and there until he starts telling you bigger portions

- you also get really close with kenma

- not close close the way him and kuroo are, but kenma would probably see you as his second closest friend

- that’s why sometimes kenma tags along with you guys (it doesn’t feel like third wheeling or anything because both you and kuroo enjoy kenma’s presence as much as each other’s)

- eventually, once you two got the hang of it, you’re like the couple that everyone likes

- because you’re both pretty funny and overall just have nice vibes

- his team starts to call you mom and dad as a joke because sometimes when shinzen doesn’t have practice, you’ll stop by at nekoma at the end of practice just to say hi

- they’re not wrong about the mom and dad thing though (it’s a really cute dynamic though i swear)

- your team used to not like him at first because they were protective of you, but eventually they reluctantly warmed up to him

- they threatened to demolish him if he hurt you though

- LMAO ANYWAYS .. MOVING ON

- you guys have lots of study dates too!!

- since you’re both busy because of volleyball related things, a lot of your schedule lines up with each other (this also means that kuroo knows when you haven’t had time to study)

- you’ll be sitting on his bed on your stomach with your legs draped across his thighs as you read your textbook and he’ll be sitting against his bed frame reading one of his assigned readings (i also like to think that kuroo has glasses for these readings that only you and kenma have seen)

- sometimes, when you finish studying before he finishes, you’ll come up behind him and just start to play with his hair

- his hair is actually really soft despite looking like a bird built its nest in it

- you also have two of his jackets that are just lying around your house

- he likes when you wear them because he thinks you look so cute (he doesn’t tell you that though)

- after a while, it’s like both of you have forgotten that this was all a ruse just so bokuto wouldn’t get heartbroken after you two break up

- at this point, kuroo has learned all your quirks, habits, and has also memorized your schedule

- like … he doesn’t realize that he’s fallen for you until someone points it out

- he realizes he’s fallen for you on the day that shinzen loses in the tournament (this would be your last match)

- now nekoma just played a game, but kuroo’s first instinct is to check whether or not shinzen won (he’s been doing this for every game in the tournament)

- when he sees that you lost, he knows that you’ll be sad and in need of a pick me up

- as kenma and him are packing up, he says, “shinzen lost today. i probably can’t make it to your house tonight. y/n will probably want to go out with her team for a bit, but she’ll probably crash at my place. do you think i should make her a strawberry cake? or maybe she’ll want onigiri? no, she’ll probably want the cake. she always gets the little smile with her one dimple whenever she eats my strawberry cake. makes me proud.”

- kenma’s just looking at kuroo with arched eyebrows because HIS BEST FRIEND IS WHIPPED

- kuroo doesn’t get why kenma’s looking at him like that because he thinks about things like that all the time. “what??”

- oh kenma knows your relationship is fake

- so he just looks at kuroo and says, “try to refrain getting down on one knee today. i doubt you have a ring, and i’ll bet that y/n will want a confession of you being hopelessly, madly in love with her before you propose by the way.”

- kuroo kind of freezes and blinks at him.

- “wh … what?”

- “kuro, do i really need to spell out for you that you’re totally smitten with her? you have been for a while now.”

- “have not.”

- “yes, you have.”

- “have not.”

- “yes, you have.”

- “have not.”

- “yes, you have.”

- at this point, kuroo knows that kenma’s onto something, but kuroo doesn’t wanna jump to conclusions until he sees you again

- when you knock on his door and run straight into his arms that night, he knows kenma’s right

- like you’re balling into his chest and he gets that feeling that he wants to hold you forever and never let go

- and he knows. he knows.

- after you start to calm down, he offers you the cake that he made just for you

- he swears that he feels ten times lighter after he sees that exact smile with the exact dimple on your face

- now kuroo may be loud, and rambunctious at times, but when he loves, it’s quiet, simple, but not any less there

- as you finish eating the cake, kuroo notices that there’s a few pink crumbs on your lips

- and he kisses you

- like a “slow, hand on the cheek, nose touching after he pulls away” kind of kiss

- “i made a realization today. kenma told me to hold back on proposing, so i’ll go with confessing instead.”

- you’re looking up at him with your heart beating hard in your chest

- “i think you might’ve made me fall in love with you.”

sorry if there are any mistakes lmao i tried catching all of them but ... 6k words ...... yanno. .....

#oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #oikawa fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu headcanons #atsumu fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 3 years

Note

Have you done M for Geraskier yet? These fics are gold btw 💕

M was also requested by Anon! (Thank you both, you're so sweet 💖). Your shared word is MUSHROOM! (Warning for drug use, but it's mostly just nonsense fluff. ~690 words)

“I told you not to touch anything,” Geralt says, rearranging his grip around Jaskier’s waist so he doesn’t fall. “And what did you do? What did you fucking do, as soon as I left you alone for half an hour?”

Jaskier peers at him with unfocused eyes. “Touched something,” he snickers. “And, and, and…” he leans slowly outwards, and Geralt pulls him back before he can tumble. “And I ate it.”

Geralt groans to himself. He knew taking Jaskier with him to the mage’s shop had been a bad idea. But Jaskier had insisted, promising not to get in trouble. The mage had taken a liking to him, too, which would have made Geralt’s life easier if “taking liking to him” had not also meant “sharing mysterious, magical mushrooms with him”. She too had been giggling when Geralt had returned with the drowner brains she’d asked for.

“There,” she had said, handing him a bag of coins and an insensible bard. “That should fix him right up. And you. Don’t thank me, it’s what I do.”

And then she had shut the door in his face before he’d been able to ask what she was talking about.

Getting Jaskier back to the inn is proving a challenge worse than hunting the drowners as the bard leans heavily against him, chatting animatedly about the cloudless sky or the wildflowers springing from the fields beside them or the colour of Geralt’s eyes.

“Isn’t it lovely, Geralt?” He asks, looping his hand around Geralt’s waist and nearly sending them both toppling forwards. “Isn’t it all so fucking lovely?”

“It’s fine,” Geralt grumbles.

Perhaps it could be lovely - the shining sun, the fields of flowers, Jaskier pressed so closely to his side - but the circumstances are less than ideal. Jaskier doesn’t seem to notice his un-lovely mood, grinning lopsidedly as they slowly trudge the three-mile walk back to town.

“You know what she said, Geralt?”

“Before or after you got high together?”

Jaskier splutters with laughter. “Before,” he says, once he’s regained control of his breath. “She did that… that thing, you know. Like Yen does. Taking a peek in here…” he taps the side of his head with the hand not clinging to Geralt’s waist. “Went all fuzzy.”

“And what did she find in there?” Geralt asks, happy to move the conversation away from his eye colour.

“She said I was sa-ad.” Jaskier draws the last word out. “Said she’d help.”

“Did you feel sad?”

Jaskier shrugs, nearly dislodging him. “A bit.”

There’s a little twist in Geralt’s chest. However frustrated he is with Jaskier, the idea of him being distressed - and hiding it from him - worries him. He doesn't like to think Jaskier's flippant cheerfulness is hiding something more.

“Why?” He asks, simply.

Jaskier stops dead in his tracks, pulling Geralt to a halt as well. He unhooks his hand, turning unsteadily in the middle of the road to face him. He sways slightly, his eyes red and blurred. He smiles.

“Because you’re so fucking lovely,” he says. “But… but you’re like the sky, or the flowers, aren’t you?”

Geralt is lost. His fingertips tingle where they’d been pressed to Jaskier’s waist just a moment ago.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. You are. Because you’re lovely, but…” Jaskier swallows, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt. “But you’re not mine.”

Oh. Oh. But--

But he is.

“Jaskier--”

Jaskier flaps a hand at him. “It’s fine,” he says. “Gods. I’m hungry. Come on, you idler. Let’s get back to town.”

“Jaskier, wait--”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, striding forwards. “Don’t accept weird mushrooms from mages you’ve just met. I know.”

Geralt watches him as he unsteadily walks away, then jogs forward to catch up with him, once again grabbing him to stop him from falling.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” he says, hoisting him up.

“No?” Jaskier sniffs, bumping against Geralt’s hip.

“I…” Geralt swallows. “Shit, Jask.”

“Oh, very eloquent.”

“No, I--” he sighs. This is impossible. There’s a steel trap around his lungs, but he has to say it. “You’re lovely, too.”

Jaskier grins. The spring air suddenly smells of chamomile and honey. “Yeah?”

Geralt grips him a little tighter. “Yeah.”

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #my fic #tw: mushrooms #tw: drug use #jaskier ate a fun mushroom and now he's ~high~#and confessing All The Things #i might make this the last one #as i am sleeby #and i got a couple for paff which i am *eyes emoji* about

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hongism · 3 years

Text

1:58 am - c. jongho 18+

↣ pairing: jongho x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff, smut ↣ wc: 2.0k ↣ for @ppersonna: “HELLO MY BESTIE RATTY PLS JONGHO WITH 25 - Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.” ↣ warnings: language, oral sex: f

In your defense, Jongho is both a maniac and insatiable. What started as a lovely movie night between the two of you, with his roommate Yeosang curled up in the armchair by the couch, has quickly devolved into leagues of stress for you and endless amusement for Jongho. Yeosang is (thankfully) off in dreamland and fast asleep despite the movie still going in the background, although that does nothing to quell your current nerves as Jongho’s hand is moving further up by the minute.

It started at your kneecap, two fingers tracing mindless patterns into your skin under the blanket. Then he slipped to the inside of your knee and clutched tight at your flesh before pulling up the inside of your thigh.

Now, he has a hand basically over your crotch, close enough to make you sweat but far enough away to have you refraining from squeezing your thighs shut over his fingers.

And being a cocky little shit, of course Jongho knows exactly what he’s doing to you — if the smirk curling over his lips is any indication at least. You aren’t about to scar yourself or Yeosang by fooling around on the already stained leather couch in their apartment, as much as you really want to give in to his lingering touches.

You haven’t been paying attention to the movie on the screen for at least an hour, maybe longer than that because you don’t even recall the name of the damn film at this point, and all your focus is honed in on the fingers pressing into your thigh. Jongho won’t stop teasing with his touches either. Every few seconds, he squeezes just enough to startle you into sitting up straight just when you’ve recovered from the last touch. You’re certain he’s trying to seem interested in the movie given the way he keeps making interested noises or scowling at the screen, but then his smirk returns and you know what he’s really up to.

In short, you have had more than enough of his fun and games, growing increasingly frustrated with each passing second. Your body is so pent up and overheated that sweat is pooling at your brow, and that’s what makes you nudge his hand away as a last-ditch effort to save yourself from this teasing hell he’s trapped you in. Yet this isn’t your apartment and you can’t very well escape to his bedroom without looking suspicious to Yeosang. As far as his roommate is concerned, you and Jongho are still just friends, even if there is an ungodly amount of sexual tension lingering between the two of you like this.

Water. Yes, you need water. And where can you get water? The kitchen of course. Perfect plan. You should be safe from Jongho’s antics there, no?

“Feeling alright, Y/n?”

As it turns out, you are very much not safe in the kitchen.

You nearly throw the glass in your hand at Jongho’s head out of sheer shock when he sneaks up on you, creeping into the kitchen behind you like a damn ghost. You manage to hold back from doing that, but a small yelp escapes your lips instead. Jongho laughs at that, continuing to chuckle under his breath even when you try to level him with a sharp glare. He has the audacity to look absolutely delectable at nearly two o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but a stupid black t-shirt and stupid grey sweatpants with his stupid hands shoved deep in the pockets like he wasn’t trying to practically finger you on the couch moments ago.

“I don’t know, am I?” It made sense in your head, although that might be because of the haze of arousal over your brain because once it actually comes out, you’re wondering why the hell you said that.

“Well, you felt more than alright just a few minutes ago.” He’s smiling again, another lascivious grin that has you sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Not here,” you hiss back as a last-ditch effort to talk yourself out of this (again).

“Because Yeosang is in the other room? Come on, Y/n, you know half the fun is in the risk of getting caught.”

A scoff passes through your lips, loud enough to resound through the small kitchen.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re painfully aroused. Are we done stating the obvious?”

Throwing this glass at his head is a lot more tempting now, but that would certainly cause a ruckus and Yeosang would wake up in a heartbeat.

“Only because you were fucking feeling me up on the couch like it’s your goddamn job!”

Jongho crosses the kitchen in three seconds flat, suddenly so close to you that you can’t breathe your own air without feeling the heat of his breath against your lips. You stumble back and hit the edge of the counter behind you. Jongho doesn’t give you a moment to recover, catching your wrists in his grip and pressing them hard against the surface of that same counter.

“Careful there, doll, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up, would you?”

“No, that’s not what I want,” you exhale. It’s not enough to quell the desire in your gut, especially not when Jongho’s fucking thigh is pressed between your legs and leaving you squirming. He knows how you feel about his thighs thanks to an unfortunate admission on your part one night when you had too much alcohol (and unfortunately Yeosang knows too since he was an unwilling participant in that conversation).

“What do you want then? Although, I’m fairly certain that I know.” Again, Jongho’s gaze flicks down over your body, enough to be obvious about the way he’s checking you out from head to toe, but he returns to staring you in the eye after a second.

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you hiss under your breath. In the same sentence, you free your wrists of his grasp and push down hard on his shoulders. It’s nothing compared to his strength — he’s more than strong enough to resist your futile efforts, but he goes along with it anyway and lets you push him to his knees in front of the counter.

“You’re lucky I never make you beg, baby. If I did, you’d never get to cum.”

Tempting, you think, but right now you aren’t in the mood to be edged or teased anymore. Jongho did his fair share of that for over two hours, so all that is on your mind is a release under his skilled tongue.

“Please, Jongho, I’d like to do this before Yeosang wakes up…”

His hands are already curled around your pajama shorts, taking the soft fabric into his grip and pulling down with no resistance. A sharp inhale follows as the cold air hits your nether regions, and Jongho lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder as he bunches your shorts into the palm of his hand.

“Be glad I didn’t take you on the couch right in front of him then.”

Then Jongho is smiling up at you from between your legs, and you would be lying if you said that isn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. You brace yourself on the counter, knuckles white from the effort of clinging to the marble, and the man beneath you takes his teasing a step further. Soft lips caress the inside of your knee over the spot he clung to for the better part of an hour, then he follows the same path his hand took as well. He doesn’t stop until his nose is flush with your folds, and even then he exhales against you in a way that has a chill rushing down your spine. Your curl away from the counter, unintentionally pressing your hips closer to his mouth in the same fluid motion. It’s enough to make his nose hit your clit dead-on in a way that has a strangled moan escaping your lips. You fling a hand up to your mouth (too late as it does absolutely nothing to conceal the sound).

“Now it sounds like you’re trying to wake Yeosang up, doll.”

“I’d like to see you stay quiet when I’m sucking you off next time.” You manage to smirk a little, just enough to be playful and throw him off a little. He’s just as quick to retaliate, which is both a good and bad thing for you because his next move is to hoist your other leg onto his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to clamp your thighs around his face. You have to bite the side of your thumb to quell the noises bubbling up your throat; your remark seems to have been enough to spur him fully into action, his tongue brushing between your folds until he reaches your hole with practiced ease. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve indulged in this — his tongue pressing at your entrance like he has no other purpose in life, eating you out with more enthusiasm than ever, drawing so many noises out of you that it’s getting difficult to keep quiet.

“Jongho?”

The man between your legs freezes but doesn’t move away from your cunt, staring up at you from between your legs without blinking for so long that you think he’s truly stuck like that. Admittedly, you’re stuck where you are too, both because he’s got your legs around his face and on account of Yeosang’s sudden intrusion on your otherwise intimate moment. Your gaze goes straight to the archway to the kitchen. The kitchen island is tall enough to block the view of your lower half, but if Yeosang steps even one more foot into the room, he will certainly see what Jongho is up to. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before he does enter, and you’re watching with peaked anxiety as Jongho sidles up your body into a standing position again.

His hands find your hips, and next thing you know, he’s moving you around and pushing you until your back hits the kitchen island. It protects you from possible exposure to Yeosang, which proves to be a good move on his part because Yeosang pokes his head in the archway a second later. Jongho moves to the side enough to avoid suspicion but you’re still quite nude from the waist down and screwed if Yeosang decides to come further in.

“Oh, there you two are. The movie’s over?” Yeosang says, easing his weight against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you fell asleep pretty early on honestly. But it’s 2 am. Go back to sleep. We’re just picking up some snacks we pulled out while you were asleep.”

You think that excuse is far too easy to see through, especially if Yeosang decides to even so much as glance around the kitchen to see that you are certainly not doing any cleaning whatsoever. You squeeze your eyes shut. Looking at Yeosang right now would be a mistake and you would probably give away what you and Jongho have been up to in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m too sleepy to help you anyway. See you in the morning.” Yeosang stifles a yawn, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth, then lets his arms fall into a stretch. He lingers for only one more second before disappearing from the archway. You exhale the second he disappears, shifting to stare Jongho down as your heart continues to race rampantly in your chest without relent.

“That was a fucking mood killer,” you mutter before crossing your arms over your chest. Jongho huffs out a sigh and puffs his cheeks full of air. He stretches a hand out to touch your bare hip again.

“Let me make it up to you?”

#atzinc #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #jongho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #ateez timestamp #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez drabble #caly.writes #hahahah hell yeah new tag #jongho drabble #jongho scenario #jongho timestamp

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strangerthings4theories · 3 years

Text

Mirror Images: Billy And El Are Reflections Of Each Other

As you read this post, hold the following concepts in your mind: yin and yang in Chinese philosophy. The Light Side and Dark Side in Star Wars. The real world and the Upside Down in Stranger Things.

That, my friends, is the level of thematic significance the Duffers are giving Billy and El. And it’s my top reason for believing Billy will come back.

Why?

El is arguably the main character of the show. Any character who’s linked to her so profoundly will be a Big Fuckin’ Deal.

You cannot, CANNOT, create such a consistent dynamic by accident, which tells me that...

...the Duffers have huge intentions for Billy. He will become more significant to the show, not less! If you think he’ll return just for flashbacks or memories, you’re not thinking big enough.

Buuuut I’m getting ahead of myself. First let me show you what I mean when I say Billy and El are mirror images. It’s pretty mind-blowing...

1) The broad strokes of Billy and El’s lives echo each other: their family backgrounds, their traumas, and their journeys in the show.

>>They’ve suffered under abusive fathers. In fact, in S2 they have encounters with their fathers in back-to-back episodes - El with Brenner in episode 7, Billy with Neil in episode 8.

Both fathers are likened to the Mind Flayer in the power they wield over their children. In episode 7, El’s hallucination of Brenner tells her she has a “wound... growing and festering” (my paraphrase), a clear reference to the tunnels of the Upside Down. Kali, as the creator of the hallucination, is trying to tell El that he is the source of the wound, and El won’t heal until she’s confronted him.

In episode 8, the title card “The Mind Flayer” opens on Neil driving back to the Hargrove house, implying he’s the real Mind Flayer in Billy’s life. As I’ve argued elsewhere, Billy won’t heal either until he’s confronted Neil.

>>Billy and El lost their mothers because of their fathers. Brenner fried Terry's brain with electricity for daring to defy him. Billy's mother left for an unknown reason, but we’re led to believe she couldn’t take Neil’s abuse anymore. The way she's presented in Billy's memories leads me to believe she has since passed away.

Billy and El are both devastated by their losses. When El tells Billy at Starcourt, “[Your mother] was pretty,” she’s trying to tell him she understands.

>>Billy and El have “adopted” sisters, Max and Kali. Max represents Billy's better nature; Kali represents El's darker nature. In the same season where Billy constantly insists Max isn't his sister - thereby rejecting her - El finds Kali and embraces her. This symbolizes Billy and El’s complementary journeys: Billy is learning to accept his light while El is learning to accept her darkness.

>>Billy and El are wounded and angry because of what’s happened to them. In S1 El worries she's a monster, and in S2 she nearly kills a man in her anger, only to stop herself at the last second (against the wishes of Kali, her darker nature). Billy lets his rage define him. He's turned into a bully over his teen years, and in S2 he nearly kills Steve. Max (his better nature) stops him.

>>Billy and El are viscerally connected to the Upside Down.

The Upside Down is pursuing El. We’re not sure why yet, but their predator/prey dynamic is the main source of conflict in the show. Brenner says to her in S1, “It [the Upside Down] is reaching out to you ‘cause it wants you. It’s calling you. So don’t turn away from it this time.” His words form the backbone of the narrative:

In S1, El opens the first Gate, introducing the Upside Down to our world and setting the events of the show in motion. At the climax, she defeats the Demogorgon, the Mind Flayer's first servant.

S2 deals with the evolving consequences of El opening the first Gate. At the climax, El closes the Gate (symbolically “turning away" from the Upside Down) and catches the Mind Flayer's attention in the process.

In S3, the Mind Flayer comes after El to kill her. She runs from him, and her friends intervene to save her.

In future seasons, the Mind Flayer will regroup and try again but to corrupt her this time, not kill her. The climax of the entire show will hinge on the resolution of their conflict. El will be forced to stop running and face the Mind Flayer head-on.

In S3, Billy is caught by the Mind Flayer and turned into his instrument to hunt El down. This creates a yin/yang situation where Billy and El are revolving around each other, with the Mind Flayer in the center pulling on them both. At Starcourt, El saves Billy's soul by bypassing the Mind Flayer completely - building “the rainbow bridge.”

If you remember that Brenner and Neil, their abusive fathers, are likened to the Mind Flayer, their interaction becomes the story of Billy re-enacting his trauma, and El helping him heal it.

2) Runaway Max gives us a special case of Billy and El mirroring each other.

In S1, one of El's biggest moments happens in episode 6. Mike and Dustin have been cornered by the bullies Troy and James. Right when all hope is lost, El shows up and breaks Troy’s arm. After that, she confesses tearfully, “The gate. I opened it. I'm the monster.” This brings forward her inner struggle - am I a monster for the things I do? - which she will no doubt revisit in future seasons.

Keep in mind that Troy is around 12 years old, and El breaks his right arm.

Jump forward to S2. At one point, Billy complains, “Yeah, we're stuck here [in Hawkins]. And whose fault is that?” - implying it's somehow Max's. She disagrees. “Yours,” she mutters under her breath.

In the show, we never get an explanation. Runaway Max tells us everything.

Back in California, Billy is spiraling deeper and deeper into a pit of rage. One fateful afternoon, he takes it out on Max and her best friend Nate, a 12-year-old boy. When Max resists him, he seizes Nate's right arm and twists it behind his back. He holds it there, watching Max.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, a crazed look in his eyes.

When she does nothing, he breaks Nate's arm.

The fallout is catastrophic. Within weeks, Neil decides they should all move away from California for the good of the family.

Now think about this. El breaks a 12-year-old boy's right arm to save her friends from bullies. Billy breaks a 12-year-old boy's right arm... because he is the bully.

It’s part of the wider pattern: El is light, Billy is darkness.

3) The Duffers use physical markers to underscore Billy and El’s similarities.

>>When the MF wrecks Billy's car, Billy's forehead smashes into the windshield, leaving a gash. At Starcourt, he slams El into the wall, giving her a wound in the same spot. Thematically, their wounds tell the story of Billy suffering abuse, then turning around and inflicting it on El. He’s perpetuating a cycle, and it’s up to him to stop it.

>>Both Billy and El are limping by the time they reach Starcourt. El's leg is injured from the Mind Flayer, while Billy injures his in the car crash. These wounds tell the story of El, the “innocent,” suffering pain through no fault of her own while Billy, the “guilty” one, is being punished for his crimes. (I put those words in quotes because I believe the show will challenge our assumptions.)

A sad footnote: El has Max and Mike to help her walk. Billy has no one.

>>In S2, Billy gets a nosebleed out of the same nostril as El. This says a LOT, marking him as a future “superhero” and putting him in the same class as El, Kali, and El's mom Terry.

Off the top of my head, only two other characters get nosebleeds, Mayor Kline and Steve. But the blood never comes cleanly out of one nostril the way it does with El. I believe that was a purposeful design choice to avoid muddying the symbolic waters.

...

Y’all, I’ve already hit my picture limit for a single post, and I’m not even done yet :p So I’ll stop there for now. Eventually I’ll show you how El is connected to the Demogorgon in the same strange way as Billy.

You see what I mean though? There is no fuckin’ way Billy is dead for good. Why would the Duffers give him this much resonance with El, then drop him?

It makes no sense.

If you ask me, they’ve got plans for our boy. World-altering plans. He’s not just coming back; by the end of the show, he’s gonna be a Big Goddamn Hero.

»»————-　✼　————-««

Billy Is Alive - A Meta Series

#billy hargrove #el hopper #billy hargrove is alive #stranger things theory #stranger things analysis #neil hargrove #martin brenner #terry ives #billy hargrove's mother #kali prasad #max mayfield #nothin' but parallels all the way down

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

Imagine being Spike's closest friend/advisor in love with him and him being completely oblivious about it

" Spike ! Where are you ?! We need to talk to you !"

You find the vampire in his crypt, his eyebrows barely raised in surprise.

" Y/N. Buffy. What a surprise ? So, what can I do for you on this fine evening ?"

He says with a small sarcastic smile. Buffy rolls her eyes and sits in front of him with her arms crossed.

" We need your help."

Suddenly, his eyes lit up in curiosity and the corners of his lips raise up a notch.

" The hunters want my help ? Well..Isn't that good news ?! Oh goodie ! I get it that my head gets to stay attached to my body another day.."

You sigh, not because of his sarcastic answer you had grown accustomed to, but because you know that deep down ? He is truly excited. His brain already calculating how to turn this situation to his advantage.

" So, what's the job ? Vampires ? Demons ? Witches ?.."

He asks with the back of his head resting on his hands and waiting for Buffy or you to spill the beans.

" Vampires. In your territory. We know you've been hiding some of them.."

Buffy cuts straight to the point and Spike arks an eyebrow, smiling innocently.

" Sorry. Can't help you. I don't know what you're talking about..Maybe you got the wrong vampire for once ?"

Buffy raises an eyebrow as well before crossing her arms on her chest expectantly.

" Blond ? Spiky hair ? Dark and brooding ? Nah. I think we got the right one. Now, where are they hidden ? Spill it out, or you get the stake."

She gets her stake out to show that she is serious, but Spike only chuckles as he stands up to look down at the slayer, his shirt barely protecting his ribcage frown the sharp end of the stake.

" Is that a threat or a promise ?"

You can see that Buffy is biting her lower lip, she is actually tempted to ask Spike for a moment after this..But then her eyes fall on you, and she knows that she can't do it. Not now. Not when she knows that you've fallen for him. Spike and her have passion, he is amazing in bed of course..but what you feel for him, it makes her think of what she feels for Angel. She can't do it. She takes a step back, but it's Spike that takes a step forward to whisper seductively in her ear.

" What do you say, if I help you, you give me a kiss ?"

You grit your teeths and finally snap, you take him by the shoulder to spin him around and punch him in the face. His eyes widen significantly in shock as he doesn't understand. You realize too late what you've done and take a couple of steps backwards before apologizing.

" I..I'm sorry. I need to go."

You run outside of his crypt and Spike turns towards Buffy for an explanation.

" What's gotten into her ?!"

Buffy sighs loudly in exasperation before answering the question of the perplexed vampire.

" You're an idiot, Spike. She likes you."

Spike doesn't seem to understand and frowns before repeating incredulously.

" She..She what ?"

Buffy pinches the bridge of her nose between her index and thumb, wondering how the vampire could be so daft sometimes.

" She. Loves. You. Spike."

She finally says. But, the vampire only blanks out for a moment before stammering again, wondering if he heard her right.

" I..I beg you pardon ? Her ? Me ? No. Can't be."

He shakes his head negatively and Buffy rolls her eyes before taking him by his black coat to push him forward.

" Go talk to her, you idiot ! Before you lose her !"

He is about to go when Buffy sighs again as he seems lost. She grabs his arm and asks him with a worried frown.

" Wait. What are you going to do ?"

He shrugs before getting out of her grip and replying with a small provocative smile.

" I'm gonna do what I shoulda done in the first place: I'll find her, wherever she is, tie her up, torture her until she likes me again."

Buffy's eyes widen, but before she could stop him, he's already gone. She only humphs disapprovingly before crossing her arms again.

" Don't blow it, Spike.."

She mutters before turning around to go search for the rest of the hidden vampires on her own.

You are running with glassy eyes, filled with tears. You know that your action was rash, impulsive..You can't even explain why you had acted like that. It wasn't you. You continue to run aimlessly and blindly through the tombstones until you hit something and fall backwards. When you open your eyes again, you see that you had collided with a man, a vampire to be exact, that smiles evilly as he looks down at you.

" Well well..Dinner is served it seems."

You look around frantically for your stake, but just as you are about to grab it, the vampire spots it first and stomps on it, breaking it in two. He then grabs you by the throat and seems amused by your attempts to breathe. You try to wiggle out of his grip and scream, but he covers your mouth and laughs darkly as he recognizes you.

" And not any dinner..A hunter at that..I've seen you run around with the other slayer in and out of Spike's crypt. Where are your friends now, slayer ?"

You feel your heart quicken as he opens his mouth wide. You close your eyes, but then a familiar voice interrupts the moment.

" Turn around."

The vampire has just the time to turn around that Spike stakes him. You hear his scream, but are too tired to open your eyes. Spike is by your side in a minute and carries you in his arms.

" Hey ! Stay with me, slayer ! You hear me !"

His voice is the last thing you hear before blacking out. Spike carries you back to the Summer household where Buffy quickly takes care of you. He wants to stay by your side, but Buffy gives him a stern look.

" Don't you dare, Spike. You are not welcomed in this house. This is all your fault. I don't want to see you ever again."

She slams the door in his face and her words sting him deeply, more than he cares to admit. But, he understands her anger and turns around to return to his graveyard. However, he lets out a shaky sigh first before looking up at your bedroom window. He can't even count the times you had opened your window for him, even when you knew how dangerous and unstable he was. Spike doesn't have any friends. But, if he could call someone that ? It would certainly be you.

The moment you wake up, you look around to see that night has fallen and Buffy is nowhere to be found. You don't wait for her before grabbing your vampire hunting gear and running outside to find Spike. You know that Buffy is going to be mad at you for meeting with him, but you have to tell him. Tell him that it wasn't his fault. Tell him that you had acted without thinking. Tell him that he is the only person who makes you laugh and brings a smile to your face when you're having a bad day. Tell him..Tell him..You have all those memories that suddenly come to you, memories of when Spike knew exactly when you needed to be cheered up and would stand in front of your window until you would allow him in. Memories of when he had scared the hell out of Buffy and Angel when paying you a visit and making them think that he was going to suck your mom's blood, only for you to intervene and save him..Memories that should be enough, enough for you to let go of him. Unfortunately, it only makes things worse, having to tell yourself every single day that what you are feeling is only a small crush, that it would go with time, only to come back stronger than ever every single time your eyes meet his. You finally get to the graveyard and stop when you see him, leaning against the door of his crypt, smoking, as if waiting for you.

He doesn't move, even though he heard you approach, and throws you one of his half-hooded glances that always makes your heart beat faster. That burning gaze, but so cold at the same time..Intense and sad, so very sad. You feel goosebumps forming on your skin at the simple eye-contact, and you haven't even spoken a word yet. Eventually, he smirks knowingly at you before throwing his cigaret to the ground and stomping on it.

" What do you want, newbie ? You came to check on me for Buffy ? Well, you can tell the slayer that I am still as dead as the day we met..Also, glad to see that you're still breathing. Not that I cared, but I wouldn't want the slayer to come knocking on my door, yelling how I killed her best friend."

He says with a mocking grin, but you're no fool. You see this gleam of hope in his eyes, hope that the other slayer is finally acknowledging him as a potential ally. Maybe knowing that Buffy is finally seeing in him someone dangerous enough to be looked after would mean that she would finally come knocking at his door with more than threats and insults ? Maybe she would even grow to like him ? Maybe..But, you know that it is only a dream. She would never love him. Ever. And no matter how dangerous or important he becomes, she would never consider him as anything but a threat, a nuisance. Sad. Especially since you know that he is a good man, but with a high taste for women that would never feel the same about him..

You sigh and answer with a small smile translating pity.

" No. I need your help."

He smiles, but you can still see the deception in his eyes.

" I see..And I guess that the slayer doesn't know you came here, does she ?"

You shake your head negatively and he sighs before leaning against a nearby tombstone.

" Fine. Tell me. Why would I help you ? Besides my usual loving kindness ?"

He sneers, but his eyes translate a certain curiosity as to why indeed you would set foot in his graveyard in the middle of the night. You walk forward until your noses nearly touch, your face a few inches away from him. Even if Spike can't breathe anymore, hasn't been able to for a long time, he can still feel his heart stop in his ribcage at your sudden closeness.

" W..What are you..?"

He starts, but is cut off by you slowly raising your hands on each side of his face. He closes his mouth in surprise and doesn't dare move, even when you lay your forehead against his.

" Here's what I want your help with, Spike. I want you to be happy, Spike. I don't care if you are a vampire, a demon, a monster..You stay someone who the Summer family learned to appreciate more than you know..You've helped them countless of times, more than anyone. Now, it's your turn. Let me help you. You need to concentrate on yourself. And I don't mean the emotionless cruel monstrous vampire with a tendency to speak in sarcasm, but Spike, the romantic poet, the sensitive artist, the one who speaks with his senses and who used to know how to see beauty everywhere.."

You trace your fingertips along the interior of his forearms, his biceps, his neck and end your path on his cheeks. You then see something akin sadness in his eyes. He's shaking and raises his own hands to take yours. He's finally letting his true emotions out and looks up at you with all the misery he feels painted in his beautiful dark eyes. And you smile, knowing that it is the true Spike that you are now facing..

" Here he is. The true Spike..William."

You say while tenderly stroking his cheek. However, he suddenly kneels on the ground, his head hanging low as he cries out.

" She'll never love me like this ! She loves the other me. The bad guy. The heartless vampire. The monster that makes her feel in danger and who is useful to her ! I have no choice. Otherwise, she would have discarded of me a long time ago..She wouldn't even have spared me a second glance before staking my heart !..Not that she hasn't already.."

You look at him with eyes full of sadness before kneeling in front of him. You then force him to look up at you and say without an ounce of hesitation.

" Then, she is the monster."

His eyes widen at your words and you grab him by the arms to force him to stand up with you as you explain.

" Think about it. She is killing someone by preventing you to be yourself. She's killing William, only leaving Spike. At the end, she would have stolen your heart and your life. Let's face it, Buffy will kill you if you are willing to give her everything you are. The true question is, will you let her when the time comes, or will you fight ?"

He clenches his jaw as he stares at you, wondering why you would be so determined for him to live ? Could what Buffy said be true ? He shakes his head..No. It couldn't be. He finally answers you with a sorrowful resolution.

" What is the point of living if love isn't there ?"

You suddenly frown and to his utter surprise, slap him. It takes a while for him to get over his shock, you take the opportunity to shake his ideas straight. You wouldn't let him die.

" Don't you ever say that again ! Ever ! Don't say such nonsense ! You've already fallen in love before, Spike. Three times. And you'll fall in love again ! Again and again ! You'll continue until you finally meet someone that will finally understand how extraordinary you are and how lucky they are to have you ! One day, you will get our of that grim graveyard and that day, you'll see Buffy for who she really is ! Just another woman that couldn't see the luck she had to have you ! Tall, handsome, downright dreamy guy with amazing hair !.."

He laughs at that last part and you smile, at least you could still make him laugh.

"..But you have to stop wanting to put an end to your life just because she was not the right one !"

Suddenly, Spike loses his smile and glares up at you before standing up and shouting angrily.

" When ?! Huh ?! When will I meet that miraculous person that will make my miserable life a bliss ?! I only fall in love with destructive women, cruel and manipulative temptresses ! Women that only use me or make me want to throw myself off a bridge ! I only know the dark chaotic love, the kind that makes you drown with the goddamn ship !"

His breathing quickens as he tells you his grief and curse. You wait patiently until he is finished before finally replying.

" Then, let's do it together."

Spike doesn't understand at first, he frowns in incomprehension at you while you intertwine your fingers with a smile, even with the tears that are rolling down your cheeks.

" Let's jump from a bridge together. Let's drown together. Let's die together if that's the price for you to love me.."

Spike finally understands and looks up at you with something new, close to pity but also linked with self-hatred for letting himself be moved by you, out of all people. He wanted Buffy to be here, saying those words..and yet, he can't help but be helpless as you utter those words, he wants to believe them so bad..but he can't. He knows you. He knows that you would do anything to help him, even pretend loving him. He wants to step back, run maybe..but you don't let him go. You would never let him go when you know that he may never come back..You insist, taking a step further towards him so he can see the determination in your eyes.

" Since neither of us will ever find love or peace. And since you have the firm intention to put an end to it all. Then let's do it together. This way, I'll stop waking up in the middle of the night, sweating and panting with only one thought: Is he okay ? That way, I won't have to stop myself from killing Buffy every time she tells me how much of an idiot Spike is to think she would ever love him. Or rush to warn you each time she says she's going to kill you..I want to stop loving you, Spike ! At least you are lucky to be able to live long enough to forget them or to find other soulmates out there ! Me ? I'm only human. I only have one chance. And turns out, he'll never be mine ! And I will never meet another one in my life ! So, be happy to be immortal and stop saying that you'll end your life ! Because I will never have peace until I know that you are going to keep living ! So, let's jump ! I have a stake, you have your inhuman strength. Tore me to pieces, break my neck, rip my heart right out of my chest..If I can't have you, and you can't have the one you want. If we can't love. Then, at least, let me die with you. I won't be able to live without you. So, please, let me help you..and help myself at the same time."

You sob and grab his hand to put it over your heart, so he can rip it from your ribcage if he so wishes. You are so upset that you don't feel his fingers closing on yours. When you raise your face with determination to tell him that you wouldn't let him die, you see him smiling: not his usual cold, sarcastic or mischievous smile. A genuine smile. One that thrills you and that makes you want to smile back. But what happens next is even better. He kisses you. He kisses you tenderly, a chaste kiss. He doesn't kiss you like Buffy, where the kiss is brutal, violent or even beastly, but a patient and soft velvety kiss. When he pulls away, you feel giddy and light-headed. You feel your cheeks warm up and your smile couldn't grow any wider. And Spike ? He softly laughs before smiling too and gently stroking your cheek.

" Six.."

He says in such a low voice that you nearly miss it.

" What ?"

He looks up at you and gives you a boyish grin.

" I fell in love six times. Not three. You forgot when I was still human.."

You know he is teasing you, but you still elbow him, which earns you a small chuckle.

" Womanizer.."

You finally call him and he gently wraps his arms around you before whispering near your ear almost sadly.

" But you're the only one who ever loved me back.."

You sigh before leaning against him. You stay like that for a while, until Spike asks.

" Could you please say it ?"

" Say what ?"

" You know.."

He seems almost embarrassed to ask and you finally understand.

" I'm always the one who says it first, and since I'm normally the only one who says it at the end..I would like to hear it first. Please."

" I love you."

You says with not an ounce of hesitation and he stares at you with deep black eyes and smiles, his eyes creasing enough to make some little wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes. He's so happy that he asks you to repeat.

" I love you. I love you. I love you..And I'll say it again and again until you'll be tired of hearing it."

He tilts his head to kiss you again, and it's so true and beautiful that he asks himself how it's possible to be this happy ? Is that love ? The love that doesn't destroy but creates ? If it is, he wants it now and forever. He continues to kiss you and refuses to let go until morning. At last, Spike the Bloody and William the poet are both satisfied.

#buffy btvs #fandoms #imagine #fanfic #spike x reader #show: btvs

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yuulina-vre · 3 years

Text

Being freinds is hard

Summary: Spence can’t really cope with JJ’s betrayal after not telling him that Emely’s alive. Thank god he has Y/N by his side.

Episode: 7x02 - Proof

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 2353 words

Main Masterlist

Shock is the first thing he feels after Hotch’s words. “We buried her.” How can this be possible? Emily’s alive? He mourned her, he cried for her for weeks. Even now he’s visiting the grave once a week, tells her what’s been going on. “As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.”

“Any issues?” Derek looks at Hotch with the same confusion as Spencer feels. “Yeah, I got issues.”

“Oh, my god.” Garcia breathes out and stares at the door so Spencer turns around and a new wave of shock floods his system. There she is. Alive and healthy. His eyes take her in but his mind is not so fast to comprehend this time. She’s here. She actually is. No one says anything. It’s silent, looks get changed but no one says anything. Spencer is the first to lift himself from his chair, his arms sling around Emily in a tight hug. It’s as if he’s moving on his own. “I’m so sorry. I really am.” Emily rubs her hand on his back and breaks the hug, turning to Penelope who’s right beside her. “Not a day went by that I didn’t want to…”

She stops speaking as her eyes meet Derek’s. He has a look of hurt in his eyes and he’s clearly still confused on what had happened. Again, Spencer feels like Derek is feeling the same. They both don’t really know what to make out of this situation. Derek even might hit it harder since he’s the one who held Emily when she nearly had died. It’s closer to him. More personal. “Really, I… You didn’t deserve that. And I’m so sorry.” Emily walks over to Derek, wrapping him in a hug that he didn’t respond to at first but then slowly. Spencer’s brain is quick to turn back to office mode after. The whole case feels like it flies by. He doesn’t have much time to think about the lie he lived with, about Emily being back. About everything. Not really. It’s just a few weeks later that he really has time to think about it and it’s then when his anger really starts to form. He’s angry at himself for believing the li so willingly, for crying and mourning someone who’s not dead. But he’s just as angry at Hotch for not telling the truth, for making him suffer. But the most angered he’s about is JJ. His best friend who knew. She knew Emily was alive and she knew how much he had suffered and yet she didn’t dare to tell him, didn’t make amends to comfort and tell him anything. Instead, she let him cry to her. He hadn’t talked much to her in the last weeks. Y/N always tried to reason with him at home, tried to tell him that JJ wasn’t allowed to tell him and that she’s not the one to be at fault but Spencer’s hurt. So, he avoided his friend in order to live in his anger and self-pity. Y/N was only able to watch him suffer. it’s just after the last case. A man murdered blonde woman. He exploded, had argued with her, told her how close he was to taking Dilaudid again. The only thing he didn’t tell her was that Y/N was the only safe place he had, the only thing keeping him sane enough to not get addicted again. It’s after the case that he walks home, tears in his eyes. he opens the door to his apartment walks in with hanging shoulders. The door gets shut with his foot the bag slipped to the floor as he walks to the couch. Y/N’s sitting n it. Wrapped in the warmest blanket Spencer own with a book in hand and a steaming mug on the coffee table. She looks up as she notices him and the book gets quickly dispositioned on the table. “Spence?”

“Hey.” His voice is thick with tears and Y/N notices it instantly. She gets out of the blanket, just manages to stand as he falls forward to wrap his arms around her, face buried in her shoulder as a sob makes its way out. “Hey, hey. What happened?” She tries to level her voice to a gentle note, to keep her worry out of it but fails a little. “Spence? What happened?” Reid just shakes his head against her, clinging just a bit tighter to her. “Come on. Sit with me, yeah?” She carefully breaks the hug, picks up the blanket, and sits back down, patting the spot beside her. Spence doesn’t sit down though; he instantly lies down to bury his face in her stomach and continues crying.” Y/N frowns but tries to get the blanket on top of them both, without suffocating him. Then her hands find their way into his locks to gentle card through them. “Baby?” Again, he shakes his head but it only takes a few more seconds for his muffled voice to filter through. “Fought with her.”

“Who? JJ?” a nod against her stomach is all the confirmation she gets. “And Emily asked me to go to Rossi’s tomorrow but… I can’t.”

“Why not? ‘Cause shell be there?” A nod, then a shrug. “Spence. Listen to me.” Her hands stop their motion. She’s not a profiler on any means, just knows what spencer told her and what she actually understood, which isn’t that much but it’s enough. “I don’t know much about how the thing works at the FBI but I can imagine that what happened is nothing either JJ or Hotch would have had a say in. They couldn’t have told you because it would have been against straight orders. The same goes for Emily. They mourned each other just like you did and I know you feel betrayed, especially by JJ. But you have to understand that she could have lost her job and her credibility if she had told you. She still was there for you to help you through and comfort you when I couldn’t. Doesn’t that mean something, though?” he’s silent for a little bit. His fingers press into the skin on her back though as he tries to get even closer. “I told her I almost took it again.” It’s whispered but Y/N hears it nonetheless. “Dilaudid?” again a nod. “Spence.” Y/N sighs and her hands card through his hair again. “She said she’s sorry but I said it's too late.” He sniffs again and curls in on himself a bit to get further under the blanket to keep his feet warm. “Is it though? She’s still your friend and I can’t think of a reason that made me believe that her keeping silent was easy for her.” Her right hand losses its grip on his hair and finds its way to his cheekbone, rubbing a bit until he looks up at her. His eyes are red rimmed and teary, he has some tear streaks that color his skin red. “You have to start to forgive her, Spence. Her and yourself. I’m sure JJ blames herself enough and she probably misses you. You’re best friends after all.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

“Start small. Go to Rossi’s tomorrow night.” A pained expression crosses His face and he quickly hides again. “You coming too?”

“I’m not invited, baby. And I think you should do it on your own.”

“No…” His whine resembles the one of a child. An extremely sad and hurt child. “Hey, how about this. We both take a shower and head to bed early. I’ll read a bit to you and you sleep over it. We’ll see what you can do tomorrow, hm?” He nods but doesn’t move, so Y/N is content to remain on her spot to sit for a while, finish her tea and comfort her boyfriend.

Two hours later she finds herself in bed, shower warmed with Spencer plaster to her side and his head on her shoulder as she reads some random book, he picked out to him. He falls asleep quickly. No surprise there, he tired himself out with his crying after an exhausting day. Instead of going to sleep herself she picks up his work phone, searches through his contacts, and finds’ Rossi’s number. She quickly confirms that it's not too late and presses the call button. It beeps a few times before he picks up. “Reid? You okay?”

“Agent Rossi; here’s Y/N. Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“Ah, I remember you. You brought him to lunch the other day. Your cupcakes were amazing by the way.” She has to smile at that and buries her hand in Spence’s hair to keep him asleep. She found out early on that she could practically do anything loud around him when she just keeps patting his hair. “Thank you.”

“Are you alright? Something happened to Spencer?” There is a note of worry in his voice and Y/N quickly scrambles to shut it down. “No, no. Everything’s fine. Were good… mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Yeah, you know. Spence has this… issue.”

“Talking about JJ? I know of it.”

“Yeah.” She breathes out a sigh. “I wanted to ask you for a favor. I know Emily tried to convince him to go to yours tomorrow and he’s pretty apprehensive of it. I tried to make him take little steps to forgive JJ and go to your place. I’m not sure he will but… could you keep your door unlocked for us? He might show up late and if I can’t manage that he goes alone I’ll come too.”

“That’s all?”

“I think. Unless you have another idea that might help.” Rossi denies it and quickly after they bid each other good night. Y/N snuggles deeper into her pillow, adjusting Spencer on her should and settles. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep as well.

The next day is spent with all sorts of things Spencer likes to do to keep his mind off of things. They read books, watch Doctor Who, eat his favorite food. It’s just around seven that Y/N gets up from the couch, stretches, and reaches for his hand. “Alright. Let’s get dressed.”

“What for?”

“Rossi’s.” Spence takes a deep breath, his head angled and eyes flickering through the room. “Y/N, no.”

“Spence.” She walks closer and sits on the coffee table, right in front of him, and grabs his hands. “The longer you shove it off the longer you make you all suffer. This will affect work soon. Don’t make you all go through this. I know it’s hard but I know that you know it’s the right thing to do. Even if it's not as easy as it sounds.” She looks him in the eyes to try to find out what he thinks. “The sooner the better.” Reid closes his eyes; a deep defeated sigh leaves him. But he nods. “Alright.” She squeezes his hands to reassure him that he really does the right thing, then gets up to change. She leaves him behind because she knows he needs a bit of time to think it all through, though, it doesn’t take long for his arms to circle around her waist and his forehead to land on her shoulder. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah. Just wondering when you got so smart.”

“Always was, you just never paid attention.” She smiles at herself in the mirror as Spence snorts into her shoulder. “Now get ready, handsome.” She pats his hands, turns around, and presses a kiss to his lips that might have lingered a little longer than usual. Again, she leaves him behind to get into her blouse and pants in the bedroom while he can mend to himself in the bathroom. Roughly an hour later Y/N pulls up on Rossi’s driveway, stopping right next to Emily’s car. “Ready?”

“No.”

“Spence…” Y/N sighs and looks at him, hands leaving the steering wheel. “It’ll be fine.”

“You can’t know that.”

“But I do. JJ loves you and she will be happy that you finally try to understand her. She will be doing right by you this time.” Her hand finds his thigh and squeezes lightly. “It will all be alright in the end.” Spencer sighs again but actually nods again, unbuckles himself, and gets out of the car. Y/n takes a deep breath herself before she gets out. The moment they step up to the front door they can hear the others talking and laughing. Spencer’s hand instantly grabs hers to hold on tight. The door is unlocked as David promised, so Y/N leads Spence in and ignores his calculation look. He probably guesses that she talked to him about it. The whole way to the kitchen Y/N makes sure to be on his right side and it proves to be right because the second they see the others she sees a free spot right next to JJ. “Sorry, we're late.” Y/N waves as the others turn to them. “Yeah. And this is why I cook alone.” David’s eyes catch Y/N and she smiles t him while pushing spencer lightly into JJ’s direction. He is smiling at her, probably relieved to see her smile as well. “So, a, when do we get to drink the wine?” Emily breaks the small silence, making Y/N giggle. “Almost there. Okay.” Rossi puts his tools down to look at them all. “We start at the beginning. You eat what you cook, I’ll supervise, but we’re gonna do this all together, just like a family.”

Okay, know?” JJ lifts her glass and waits for David to nod. “Now.” The glasses clink and everybody takes a sip while laughing. Y/N watches for a moment how Spence talks to JJ, both smiling until Rossi steps up to her. “I don’t know how you did it and I don’t care. Show me how to do these great cupcakes.” Y/N laughs loudly but nods. “Alright, show me what you got.”

The evening turns out to be great. Y/N sees Spencer and JJ together the whole time and is relieved that it actually went that well.

#Spencer Reid #Spencer x Reader #reader insert #reader #Yuulina writes #criminal minds

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

Text

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I don’t really have much to say about this chapter. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW 18+ mentions of poisoning, healing, mention of previous character death. Little bit of angst.

Word Count: 5119

Read Chapter 13 here on AO3.

Tagging: @lemongingerart 🥰

He stood by the door, long fingers rubbing his wrist as he stared at your prone form. The numbers on the screen were worse today, your heart was giving up and Hux experienced a feeling he didn’t enjoy. He felt useless. He had no power here, no say in what was happening and it angered him. The doctor had given you one more day before you gave up completely, the poison weaved through your body, black tendrils had appeared under your skin creating a pattern that criss-crossed all over you.

Hux fell back on the only thing he knew, his mask of indifference. He locked his turbulent self away in a box and buried it deep, with Ren gone on what was turning out to be a pointless mission he was in charge of following the lead for the New Resistance base, which was also turning out to be a load of nothing.

An alarm sounded on the monitor, the medical droid reacting instantly and wheeling to your side. Hux’s heart fluttered but all he could was watch as the alarm became a shrill constant noise, the Doctor burst in with a team of nurses and Hux was unceremoniously shoved outside. The door closed hiding you from view and he flinched, it felt like the hammer of death had struck down on you, Ren had failed. Running off alone on a fool's errand and not working with Hux to find a solution. His arrogance and ego was astronomical, thinking he could single handedly save you and be your hero.

Hux turned away from the closed door, his hands fisting and releasing in steady motions, a pain erupted in his jaw, blossoming behind his eyes and shooting into his mind. He didn’t even feel himself move, the muscles contracting in his arm as he pulled it back and slammed it full force into the durasteel wall. He grunted as pain radiated up his arm, his knuckles instantly swelled and he could feel the restriction within the leather gloves. He cradled it to his chest, accepting the physical pain while ignoring the mental, he embraced the hurt hoping it would dull the ache that increased with every beat of his heart. The longer they were in the room the more his barriers slipped and he wanted to hurt himself again, he gripped his injured and possibly broken hand, biting his lip to muffle the cry that wanted to break free. Physical pain he knew how to deal with, he knew it wouldn’t last forever he had extensive experience with it. The pain of losing you though, would cleave him in two and that was an anguish he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“What are you doing?” He turned so hard he nearly fell over. Ren stood in the doorway, he looked filthy and exhausted but he was here.

“Where's the antidote? Tell me you have it!” He snarled.

“I already passed it to the Doctor, I was in the medbay with the Knights getting checked over.” Both their gazes drifted to the closed door and Hux felt the question burn inside him but he refused to ask it. He hated the force and everything to do with it, the whole thing was too much of a mystery for Hux, but if it could give him the answers he seeked…Kylo looked back at the General, his tired eyes flicking to the injured hand.

“You need to get that looked at.” He rumbled.

“I’m not leaving,” muttered Hux.

“Suit yourself.” Kylo sighed and carefully lowered himself into a chair, his eyes closing as he rested his head in his hand. Hux curled his lip in hatred, how could Ren just sit there like you weren’t dying in the next room? He looked like he wasn’t affected by what was happening to you at all but then he hadn’t sat here for the last three days watching the very life drain from your body.

“She’s alive.” Hux looked up with a frown, not daring to hope that Ren was telling him the truth. His eyes were still closed and a small furrow marked his brow. “They administered the antidote and it seems to be working.” Hux glanced at the door realising now what Ren was doing. “Recovery will be slow,” he murmured. “But she will be alright.”

“But they said about deficits…” Hux didn’t even want to utter those words but he had to know. Kylo slowly shook his head, the frown becoming more pronounced.

“Not that I can sense, but she should go in a bacta tank for a few days to be sure.” His entire body relaxed with a sigh and he slumped back in the chair clearly even more exhausted from exerting himself like that.

“You’re sure?” Pressed Hux.

“I’m not a doctor,” he griped. “But from what I can sense she will be ok.” They both looked up in unison when the door slid open and the doctor emerged.

“If you had been just minutes later with the antidote we probably would have lost her. I am pleased to say it’s working and I’m going to have her immersed in a bacta tank to help the process and hopefully reduce the risk of deficits.” He glanced at Hux’s hand and his pain filled expression. “Shall I take a look at that General? She won’t be awake for a while yet.” Hux gave a curt nod and let himself be led away but not before shooting a glowering look at Kylo.

The Supreme Leader watched the nurses file out, the last one saying he could go in if he so wished and soon he was alone. His entire body ached, he should be asleep recovering in his own bacta tank but he had to make sure you were seen too first, he’d never forgive himself if he went to sleep for a few days and woke up with you gone forever. The silence was damaging to him, battering him with it’s brutality. Had he been mistaken?

Were you dead?

No, he could feel you.

His footfalls were light as he entered the dark room, a soft blue glow emitted from the bacta tank and there you were. Floating like some ethereal creature from a child’s fairy tail in the thick fluid, he felt a heat creep under his skin as he took in your body, modestly covered but not leaving much to the imagination. He had the overwhelming sense he shouldn’t be seeing you like this, so bare and vulnerable. The black lines under your skin were fading as the poison receded, the vitals on the side of your tank looked good and yet he still couldn’t bring himself to leave.

The mask that covered your face helping you breathe was dark and bulky but he could still imagine your beautiful mouth, the way it curled into a smile, how you pursed your lips when you were annoyed. Your mouth gave so much of your emotion away and you didn’t even realise, but he did. He noticed, he noticed everything about you. Kylo placed a hand on the surface of the tank leaning in so he was level with your face, almost willing you to wake up and look at him but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. His hand slipped down the tank before withdrawing completely, his feet backing up slowly so he could keep his gaze on you, casting one more longing look at you before exiting the room and closing the door just as Hux reappeared.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, his green eyes blazing.

“Leaving,” stated Kylo, sweeping past the General and vanishing from sight.

Hux released a breath, he had no doubt Ren had been in your room and he felt the flush of anger that he had seen you before Hux even had a chance. He stood outside the closed door, his emotions hurricaning inside him as he reached for the controls. He should go in, he had every right to see you and yet he couldn’t bring himself to enter. He hated that room, it now will forever be the room where you nearly left his world and he backed up a step. He hated feeling this conflicted, he fought the rise of emotion that threatened to fill his chest, his face scrunching up in anger at himself. He didn’t even recognise himself anymore, his father was right. Women were trouble, they made you do things you would never normally do. They twisted you into another person entirely. Hux backed up again. You would probably prefer to wake up with Ren at your side anyway. He turned, refusing to spare anymore time on pining for you or thinking about how you were clearly moving on with another man. He had work to do.

The first thing you noticed was how warm you felt, a cosiness wrapped around your body and you snuggled down in the cushiony covers. It wasn’t until your brain engaged, hazy memories of drinking and Hux frantically calling your name made you sit bolt upright, your heart pounding.

“You’re awake.” You turned to see him sit forward on his chair at your bedside, his dark hair framing his tired face.

“Kylo…” you looked around the room, it seemed familiar but different at the same time and you frowned. “Where am I?”

“Hux had these quarters cleared for you, so you could recover without interruption.” You hated those words. Hux had kicked you out of his quarters in the disguise of you getting better in peace. You splintered, a soft “Oh,” sounded from your mouth and you dragged the covers closer suddenly feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

“Are you hungry?”

“I—erm I guess.” You swallowed nervously and turned back to look at the Supreme Leader. “Where is he?” The muscle under Kylo’s eye twitched, the creak of his gloves as he fisted his hands broke the still moment.

“We are chasing the Resistance down, following up on some leads as to where they might be. He is overseeing that.” Of course. Working. You stared into space when Kylo got up, you barely noticed he left until he returned with a plate of food. You took a slice of bread picking off a piece to nibble lost in your swirling thoughts. “I’m sure he will be along to see you when he’s free.” Kylo said softly and you couldn’t stop the snort that was pushed out of your nose. “I can order him…” you held up a hand.

“Don’t order him, he needs to want to be around me. If you force him it will just make everything worse.” Kylo shifted in his seat, clearly wanting to say something but not sure how to broach the subject.

“Does he?” You looked up at the quiet question. “Because last I saw…” your arm jerked a little as Kylo ghosted a hand over where your bruises had been. “He is not taking care of you as a husband should be.”

“We are still finding our feet,” you mumbled. “What happened to me?”

“Do you really want the details?” He asked softly.

“Yes. I need to know.” He moved and settled on the bed facing you, one leg cocked over the covers the other planted firmly on the floor. He reached for your hand and you let him take it, feeling the callouses that protruded making his skin rough and the complete opposite to Hux’s.

“You were poisoned,” his eyes locked with yours as you inhaled sharply at the news. “We caught the Resistance member and dealt with him accordingly,” you saw the darkness spread across his gaze. “He won’t be troubling us anymore.”

“How long…?”

“A week and a few days. You were taken out of the bacta yesterday.” Your mind boggled at the amount of time lost and his hand squeezed yours in a comforting gesture. “Hux did what he could for you. The Knights and I found the antidote but you nearly died.” You felt tears brimming, Hux must have been beside himself….so you hoped but that doubt whispered in your mind. You remembered his panicked tone before you passed out though and you clung to that.

“What happened to the Resistance member? Who was he?” Kylo looked down, watching his fingers gently spread yours with his own.

“His name was Temmin Wexley.”

“Was?” You interjected.

“The Knights…I’m not sure how much detail you want here.” He finished gruffly.

“Is he dead?” His hazel eyes dragged to magnetise with yours.

“Yes,” he stated firmly, watching the grim look cross your face.

“Do we know why? Why me?” Kylo’s expression softened, his brows knitting together in concern and he leaned forward slightly.

“You were not the target.” Oh. Your fingers gripped his at his words, realising that there were people out there trying to murder your husband. Your chest expanded abruptly but you leaned back when he went to wrap an arm around you.

“I’m alright.” Kylo sighed and he stood, your hands detangling. You watched him, grateful that he had been here when you woke. His amber gaze roamed over your upturned face as though devouring your features and he was a man starved of them. “Are you close to finding the Resistance? Will this war be over soon?” You asked, a hint of a plea in your voice. You hadn’t contemplated your future much but if you could get Hux away from the battles, the constant darkness that war spread, maybe he’d soften around the edges. But that was just a dream. Kylo bent down, his hand swiftly cupping your face, his lips warm as he planted a kiss against your cheek. He didn’t pull away immediately, letting his cheek press against your skin, his presence surrounding you for a moment before straightening up, his fingertips trailing across your cheek and catching the edge of your lips before turning away.

“I will let you know if anything changes,” he told you in a low tone, sweeping from your quarters like a dark shadow.

You finished the food, placing the plate in the living area and you looked at the crate that was sitting there. You pulled out fresh clothes, noting a few items were missing and wondered if Hux had left them on purpose. Or maybe someone else had packed your stuff. The shower was blissful, washing away the remnants of what had happened, your body felt well though. You weren’t plagued by fatigue or any aches considering what you’d been through.

You checked the time, seeing it was late by ship standards even though you weren’t tired, your fingers rapped haphazardly on the top of your table as you toyed with the idea of heading and getting the rest of your things from Hux’s quarters. There was a very slim chance he was there anyway, but if he was maybe you could talk? You had almost died and all you wanted to do was have him hold you, and not at arms length anymore. Your mind was made up, the corridor was silent, the lights dim just barely offering enough for you to see your way to Hux’s quarters.

You let yourself in, the lights were on the lowest setting here and frustration curled inside you. The quarters were I masculine as always, you debated sitting at the table and waiting for him when a light from the bedroom caught your eye and hope sparked in your chest.

The door slid open and you stepped into the bedroom seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He looked up, surprise showing for a moment before he managed to disguise it.

“I thought you’d be staying in your quarters I had put aside for you.” He sounded genuinely astonished to see you in his space.

“As far as I’m concerned these are my quarters, if that’s agreeable…” you trailed off. You wanted to be assertive but there was always that doubt with him, you never knew where the line was drawn.

“Yes, I just assumed you wanted space,” he murmured. You took a step closer seeing him eye you wearily out of his peripheral vision, his posture straightened and his hands came to rest on his thighs. You nibbled your bottom lip, tentatively reaching out to trail your fingertips over his shoulder. You needed to feel him, you’d almost died and now you wanted nothing more than to feel alive.

You traced his side profile with your eyes, memorising every tiny detail like the ridge of his ear, the way his hair settled perfectly just behind it. The faint colour of stubble that littered his pale skin, freckles dotted over the bridge of his nose and his coiffed hair had come loose slightly so a single bright strand now hovered near his eye, with more slowly following. You applied pressure to his shoulder, letting him know you were there, your lips parted slightly in anticipation when he didn’t move away.

Heat burned like an extra layer under your skin, coating your body in a fire that only he could satisfy. You watched him swallow harshly and you hoped he was as tortured as you were right now. Subtly your thighs pressed together under your dress, already you were damp, craving his touch but to your disappointment he still didn’t move.

A little sigh escaped from you and your hand dropped away, the material of your dress ruffling softly as you headed to the refresher grabbing some night clothes that had been left in his room on your way. You got changed in private, your heart heavy with thoughts of your marriage breaking down. If it broke down you’d have to return to Arkanis and no one would want you, the derelict house would just contain you and your father, with only the ghosts of happier times for company. You smoothed down the material of your night dress, straightening the straps before activating the door. You jumped slightly as the light from the refresher fell on Hux, he was standing outside of the door, hands behind his back and his head bowed as he waited.

“I’m s-sorry…” you stuttered slightly.

“No.” He sounded angry and you frowned in confusion not sure what was happening. He stepped towards you driving you back into the refresher until your back slammed against the wall.

“Armitage…” he placed a hand next to your head and leaned in close. His other hand came up to ghost along your lips, his breath fanning over your face as he watched his fingertips trace the lines of your features. Your heart hammered inside you until it felt like your entire body was vibrating with the force of it.

“No…” he whispered. “I-I am sorry.” You went to speak, your surprise evident at his apology but his hand moved and grabbed your chin, his gaze fixed on your lips avoiding your eyes. “Are you really here?” He whispered.

“Yes, I am here,” you replied, reaching up and digging your fingers into his arm. “I’m really here.” His kiss was fierce as he slotted his lips over yours, the grip on your face tightened when he applied more pressure making you moan softly. The heat that had died down before came flaring back, breaking out across your skin in rivers of fire.

He adjusted his position, bringing his free hand to curl around your neck pinning you to the wall, a soft gasp from you escaped into his mouth. The hand around your chin relaxed, sliding over your shoulder and swiping the flimsy strap down your arm until the nightdress slipped enough to expose your chest. He cupped the curve of your breast as his tongue still ravished the velvety cavern of your mouth, stealing the breath from your lungs. You felt light headed but grounded at the same time, highly aware of the feel of his skin on yours, the rub of his uniform against your exposed nipple sent ripples through your body. His long fingers massaged the pliant flesh almost pushing you harder against the wall, his thumb flicked over the hardening nub and you jolted against him, a gentle cry sucked from your mouth to his.

His lips broke away to heavily kiss your cheek, a trail of saliva cool against your heated skin. You took the opportunity to breathe, your chest expanding as his hand slipped down the curve of your body. His fingers were unforgiving, digging in hard enough to make you cry out but all you heard was him huffing erratically in your ear. His fingers found the hem of your gown, slowly dragging the soft material out of his way to splay his large hand over your pubic bone.

You swallowed a whine, your body canting into him of its own accord, his hair now completely dishevelled swept across the side of your face as his lips trailed kisses across your shoulder and the curve of your neck. His hand slipped down, his movements jerky and uncontrolled, almost painful as though he was trying to imprint the very fabric of your body onto his own.

His fingers swiped along your slit dragging the wetness from you and coating your folds with it, his breath hitched, a rough gasp warming your skin for a brief moment before he plunged two fingers into you.

You weren’t prepared, even though the invasion was welcome, your cunt instantly clenched around him and more of your spend leaked out coating his fingers, you still moaned through the burn. Your head fell back into the wall as his teeth grazed the perspiring flesh of your shoulder, feeling the way your body shuddered against him. He dragged his fingers out slowly, giving no warning when he pressed them back up into you, his teeth marking you at the same time.

Your cries rang loudly in the hollowness of the refresher as each pump of his hand had you almost climbing the wall, your toes complaining when your weight was transferred to them in an effort to take what he was giving. White spots erupted in your vision from the action of him curling his fingers, your hand clawing at his uniform as you tried to find a purchase to cling onto, your head now falling forward to his shoulder, his body crowding you completely. He needed to be close to you, he needed to feel each breath that expelled from your body, he needed to feel the vibrations of your cries as you keened loudly for him. He desperately wanted to feel each minute ripple of pleasure that made your walls flutter around his fingers. The sound of your wet cunt had him hardening in his trousers, an ache so deep he almost stopped what he was doing just to bury himself inside you. He had to feel the life that coursed through your veins, he had to be sure, so he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

You were real, you were here.

You hips ground shamelessly on his hand, your gyrating body rubbed against his crotch and he shoved his hips to grind on your thigh, allowing himself the friction his cock was crying out for. He could feel you were close, the pitch of your cries and the way your cunt sucked his fingers in even deeper told him you were ready to come undone. His hand tightened around your throat, his teeth once again grazing your shoulder. The need to mark you and remind you that you were his wife raged inside him, the possessiveness he felt of you in this moment made him feel powerful. In control. The next curl of his fingers had his name tearing violently from your lips. Your body tried to fold in on itself as your muscles spasmed in ecstasy. You clutched him, pinching his skin through his uniform but he didn’t flinch or recoil, he embraced the pain you gave him, because you were here. Alive.

He withdrew slowly, watching the soft flicker in your expression, the way your lips were sucked into your mouth only to come out more plush and kissable. Your lashes rested delicately against your cheek, you were glowing, a thin sheen of sweat coated your entire body and you were the most beautiful he had ever seen you. He brought his hand to his mouth, sucking the remains of you off his fingers, never taking his gaze away from your face so he could see your eyes flutter open to gaze at him. Your pupils were blown wide from the pleasure that had just encompassed your entire being making your irises just a sliver of colour. He moved the hand from your throat, moving his thumb to press against your lips, his cock twitching as you sucked it effortlessly into your mouth. He brought his face closer to you, brushing the tip of his nose against yours as he basked in the feel of your hot, wet mouth around his digit.

His head was filled with all the ways he wanted to possess you, he needed you cumming on his cock but he also wanted to take his time. He was too slow in his thoughts, your teeth grazed his thumb and you moved. Pushing him but keeping contact with his body you guided him back into the bedroom almost shoving him roughly so he was sitting on the bed. He watched you, every movement you made had him sweating, the look in your eyes made him bite his own lip. You crouched down, running your hands heavily up his thighs to the fastenings on his trousers, your fingers deftly undoing them with ease. His own hands moved, removing his tunic and top, for once having no reservations about being naked before you. His hips rose off the bed for a moment and you yanked his bottoms off with a rough movement that had him gasping in anticipation. He went to reach for you, his hands greedy in their grabbing, the gown getting in the way. You were standing between his legs but he wanted you closer and he pulled on your thighs.

Your hands settled on his shoulders, one leg after the other slowly rested either side of his body and you sat deeply in his lap. He groaned at the dampness of your skin, feeling your slick as you settled yourself over the length of his cock. He wanted to be inside you, but first he had to remove this gown. You lifted your arms up and he slipped it over you with ease, his mouth and hands falling to your exposed breasts. Your hands entangled in his bright hair, your hips rolling against the heated, silky skin of his cock and he shuddered, gasping heavily against the salty taste of your soft body.

He felt you flinch when he bit you, easing the pain with a lick from his tongue, his hands moving in a bruising way up the sides of your body to move round and cover your back, bringing you closer and more forcefully into his mouth. A moan erupted from your exposed neck as your head fell back, your bodies melding together like they were made for each other. You rolled your hips again feeling the tip of him slip into your dripping entrance and you both heaved a groan at the sensation. You widened your hips, taking him inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt, creating an ache in your lower belly, he was so deep inside you. His lips caressed your neck, his large hand covering one side of your face as he cradled you, his other hand needy as he dug it into your back almost massaging you. Your hands pulled his head as close to you as he could get, feeling the tension in his neck and shoulders, the shudder that ran down his spine as you bucked your hips accentuating the ache inside you and making him moan.

You pulled back, bringing your body back to meet his with a soft slap, a grin alighting your face as his hands got even more needy in their grabbing. You picked up the pace, his panting and the clumsy feel of his lips fed the desire that bloomed inside you. Every noise and soft huff that emitted from him had you burning up, you needed more from him. Your hips moved with more urgency, his hands falling to grab the supple roundness of your ass rocking you against him with more force. His own urgency drived you to keep going with the punishing tempo.

His lips roughly connected with yours, teeth clashing and tongues fighting as you gasped into each other’s mouths. Your fingers dug into his scalp, your arms tensing with each thrust against him, your chest colliding with his. The wetness of your bodies mingled, the slapping sound of your sex disturbed the quiet of the room and you both got lost in the intense feel of each other. Your pace faltered but his hands did not, he was so close you could feel him pulsing inside you, swelling and getting ready to fill you as much as he could. Your cunt clamped down on him, the cries building in your chest as the coil wound tightly in your lower belly. Each time he brought you forcefully down onto his lap your face contorted with pleasure as he nudged that special spot at the front of your fluttering walls.

His cries punctuated yours, his pale skin flush from the exertion of your movements. You chased that need for release, you wanted to come undone on top of him, the need to feel him unravel below you had you hanging over the edge of that cliff. He found his peak first, the warmth of him spilling inside you pushed you over that last hurdle. He rocked you softly into him, carrying you both through the waves of pleasure that spun both your worlds. Every pulse from him sent a fresh tremor through you, dragging out your orgasm until it felt like your body was going to snap before it sagged heavily against his firm chest. He collapsed backwards onto the bed, breathing heavily through his nose and wrapping his arms around you hugging you close.

His heart was pounding against the side of your face and you zoned out to the sound, cuddled into him enjoying the feel of him still inside you. You never wanted this to end, you wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped in your blissful feelings shutting the world out. If only moments like this lasted

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dhwty-writes · 4 years

Note

hi! I have a prompt, if you like: what if Geralt hangs up mistletoe to get Jaskier to kiss him? :)

ELLIE, what a galaxy brained concept! It’s so silly and the gay panic is rampant in this one, my friends. The Kaer Morons being a bumbling pack of idiots and Geralt ridiculously pining after Jaskier? Coming right up!

Summary: Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir.

Warnings: NONE, this is tooth-rotting fluff

Read on AO3

There was a conspiracy of the highest order brewing in the Continent involving no less than four witchers, their horses, a goat, and an unsuspecting bard. It is known under many names, including, but not limited to, Operation Home Sweet Home, Gods Save us from your Fucking Pining, and Get Vesemir's Blessing (and Mission Let's Get Geralt Laid, but that was from Lambert and therefore stupid).

They had laid out the Conspiracy in a set of carefully calculated steps last winter with the help of Vesemir's Wise Words and truly copious amounts of alcohol. Once he saw the whole list sober, Geralt had nearly chucked it into the fireplace out of mortification. Good thing Eskel and Lambert had been nearby to wrestle the slip of paper out of his hands.

Only after the creation of at least half a dozen copies was he trusted with it again. He frowned down at the sheet. It was simple, really. A simple ten-step-plan. He could do that.

Step One: Stop fucking staring out of windows and sighing longingly. (Shut up, Lambert.) Get back on the Path and find Jaskier.

Now, at least that was easy enough. Not for the first time since their acquaintance they had agreed upon a meeting place to come find each other as soon as the snows would allow it. Most of the years Geralt would arrive a little late; because even if they chose a spot closer to Kaer Morhen than Oxenfurt, the Killer was usually impassable for a long time.

A few years they had been lucky and could set out relatively early in spring. Geralt hadn't felt lucky at all, sitting in a lonely tavern corner day in, day out, waiting for a familiar bright-coloured bard to fill his life with light again. He had felt terrified, most of all.

So, this year when he set out to the Path, an already crumpled list clutched tightly in his hand, he was even more on edge than normally. He didn't think he could take Step One failing already, and the mortifying possibility of Jaskier lying dead in a ditch. He might just climb up that mountain again and never come back down.

Luckily, Geralt — and Vesemir — were saved from that miserable fate. When Geralt threw open the tavern door in some backwater Kaedwen town, Jaskier was there already. He was peacocking around in his usual manner, enticing his sparse audience with his captivating presence. When his eyes fell on Geralt, though, his three half-drunk spectators were soon forgotten.

The bard gasped and slung his lute onto his back, vaulting off the stage to come rushing over to him. "You're here!" Geralt stood ready, his arms spread wide to catch Jaskier when he flung himself at him in an overenthusiastic hug. "I missed you." Jaskier slung his legs around Geralt's hips and buried his face against his shoulder, clinging to him as if for dear life.

Geralt held him tight, deeply inhaling the familiar scent, a mix of honey, grapes, and cinnamon. He was used to this by now. He didn't mind. Truth be told, he craved it.

"Hmm," he answered, acutely aware of the stares they were attracting. Geralt decided he didn't care. "I... missed you, too."

"You did?" Jaskier pulled back and beamed at him. Just a week ago he had thought he would kill to see that smile again as soon as possible.

"Hmm," he agreed. Now he knew he knew he would die for it.

Jaskier wriggled in his grasp as a sign he wanted to be put down again. "You certainly know how to sweep a man off his feet, darling," he announced with a cheerful wink. "I don't think you've ever told me you so much as enjoyed my company before, let alone miss it."

"Hmm." Hadn't he? He could've sworn he had.

"None of that, now, let me just grab my bag and we can be on our merry way." Without another word, Jaskier rushed up the stairs in the back of the tavern.

Geralt stood uncomfortably in the door, waiting for him to return and doing his best not to attract too much attention. 'Hurry up, Jaskier,' he thought impatiently.

"Oi!" the bartender shouted. "Yer the witcher? The one of the songs?"

"I am."

The man nodded and threw something at him, humming a very distinct tune. It was a ducat. Geralt pocketed it with a sigh. He hadn't missed that.

He didn't have to wait long before Jaskier came barrelling back down the stairs, a much too large bag Roach would have to carry again in tow. "Well," the bard straightened his crumpled doublet, which, for some reason, now gaped open and showed off the pristine shirt underneath. Geralt tried not to stare, "where are we off to?"

"Toussaint," he answered, holding the tavern door open for him.

"Toussaint!" Jaskier exclaimed excitedly. "I love Toussaint."

"Hmm," Geralt said. 'I know,' Geralt thought, 'that's why we're going.'

With their reunion out of the way, it was time to proceed with the plan:

Step Two: Travel with Jaskier. Be nice to him (no fillingless pies!)! Compliment him! Laugh at his jokes!

That part was significantly more difficult than the first. Not that he lacked compliments for Jaskier, quite on the contrary. They, however, posed not one, but two difficulties.

The first was one of his own making: voicing his thoughts with actual words. In the privacy of his mind he had a myriad of compliments. 'You're beautiful,' passed through his head when he saw Jaskier bathed in the golden light of sunset. 'You smell nice,' after a day at the coast, salt encrusting Jaskier's hair. 'You make me smile', 'You make the loneliness go away', 'You're the best bard I could wish for.' None of them were quite eager to leave his mouth.

When they finally did, it was awkward. They didn't sound at all how he imagined them. "What are you looking at?" Jaskier asked.

"Something on your face," he answered. 'Yeah,' he thought dumbly, 'sunlight.'

Or: "Geralt, are you sniffing me?"

"You smell." He still cursed himself months later for omitting the simple word 'nice'.

After a while he got better at it. He could manage an "I like your voice" without stumbling over it, or a "Your outfit looks nice and smooth." It wasn't an "I love listening to you sing and say my name; you make it sound like something that is worthy of affection" or an "I love that you wear silk as soft as your skin and could spend days caressing it without growing tired of it" yet, but he was getting there.

What came then, once he was able to say a simple nice sentence to his bard, was somehow even worse. Jaskier was clumsy, that was nothing new, but this season it was on a whole different level. Whenever Geralt so much asked him about the song he was working on, the bard stumbled over his own feet; with every smile or laugh he nearly dropped his precious lute.

But nothing beat that time they happened upon a particularly clear and blue lake and Geralt had leaned over to tell Jaskier: "I like it. It reminds me of your eyes. Just as pretty." The poet had nearly plummeted right into it, which would have been very unfortunate indeed, since he hadn't convinced the nymph living in it to migrate yet.

In the end, Jaskier's utter lack of equilibrium sense led to Geralt offering him to ride on Roach. That was much better. Sometimes they rode double, too. He liked those days especially, when he had an excuse to hold his bard close. The days when Jaskier would sigh and lean back into his touch he liked most of them all.

Slowly, they settled into a familiar rhythm. It was awkward at first, but soon they became used to the change of their relationship. And it wasn't as if everything changed. They still bickered and insulted each other, and laughed and told stories. It was just right; Geralt almost didn't notice how summer came to an end.

But it did, and when the first leaves started coasting to the ground it was time for the next step.

Step Three: Ask him where he will spend the next winter.

It was probably the most mortifying thing he had to say to Jaskier yet. They were sat at a campfire one early autumn evening, Geralt trying to look busy cleaning his sword and Jaskier preoccupied with his lute. Once he finally worked up the courage to ask, he stumbled over his words like a school boy; he even blushed, for fuck's sake! It was embarrassing.

Luckily, Jaskier didn't seem to notice, too busy tuning his lute. "Why, in Oxenfurt, of course. Why do you ask, Geralt?" he answered nonchalantly as if Geralt wasn't just leading the most daunting conversation of his entire life.

'Fucking great,' he thought. Now it was time for Step Three.5: Ask Jaskier to come home with you, you fucking idiot.

"Hm," he said.

Jaskier laughed. "Talkative as always I see." He smiled at him brightly and turned back to his lute. "Alright then. Keep your secrets."

"Hmm." This wasn't getting any easier. "Jaskier."

"Yes, dear?"

His heart fluttered with the pet name, so much that Geralt nearly bit his tongue off in the process of trying to voice his question: "Would you like to stay with me?"

The lute gave a dissonant twang that made both of them wince. "Excuse me, what?" Jaskier stammered, his voice much higher than normally.

"Hmm. I just thought..." He frowned. 'Shit.' He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. This had been doomed from the beginning. "Forget it, it's stupid."

"No, no, not at all!" Jaskier scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Geralt's side. "Where would we be staying? I suppose you could come to Oxenfurt with me, but it could get a bit crammed and-"

"Kaer Morhen," Geralt stated simply.

"Kaer Mo- oh!" His eyes lit up. "Why, yes, Geralt, I would love to stay with you."

And that was the end of that. They didn't talk about it anymore the whole evening as Geralt did his damnedest to forget the conversation had ever happened. But when he laid awake in the night, Jaskier huddled close to him — it was getting rather cold, after all — he couldn't stop his mind from whirling, excitement mixing with immobilising terror. Jaskier would come to Kaer Morhen with him. They would stay together the whole winter. And Jaskier would meet his family.

With a sigh he turned over, cautiously throwing an arm over Jaskier's waist and holding him like the precious thing he was. The smile that spread on Geralt's face when his bard snuggled even closer, outshone the morning sun creeping over the horizon.

The following days and weeks, Jaskier was buzzing with the same excited energy that Geralt held within. It cost him every ounce of self-control not to turn Roach around and head for Kaer Morhen right away. But it was still early in the autumn, at least a moon's turn before it was time to go home, so they busied themselves with taking contracts and performing for sub-par audiences.

It was alright. He needed the money, after all, if he wanted to cross off Step Four: Bring Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in its entirety, including the note: Buy him some nice and warm clothes on the way - Vesemir

It was good advice, Geralt knew, as most of Vesemir's advice was. Jaskier might have travelled with a witcher for the better part of his life, but he was still only human. And winters were very cold in the northern Kaedwen mountains.

So, on Geralt's annual stop in Ard Carraigh, he took Jaskier to get him equipped with soft woollen sweaters and stockings, as well as a pair of sturdy boots, ignoring the bard's protests of how 'ugly' they were.

"You'll thank me when you've still got all your toes after this winter," he grumbled as he strapped Jaskier's bag to Roach's saddle.

After that, nothing much exciting followed. There were still a few villages and hamlets along the way to Kaer Morhen but the least of them had so much as a tavern. The ones with a real audience of Jaskier were fewer still.

Geralt couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. Quite the opposite, he loved listening to Jaskier in the privacy of their camp or — if they were lucky — the barn where they could stay the night. He loved knowing that Jaskier sang only for him. And most of all he loved the vibrant smiles he got along the way, and the tiny ones, too, etched on his face even when he curled up against the witcher at night.

During the days, Jaskier finally had to stop riding on Roach; the path was simply getting too dangerous. The way up to Kaer Morhen had never been easy, not even when there had been two dozen witchers and twice as many students living there, but since the attack they hadn't tended to it anymore. The Witcher's Trail was no easy one for humans — and it wasn't meant to be.

Jaskier, to his credit, didn't comment much on it, most of the time too exhausted or admiring to run his mouth about the difficulty of getting to Geralt's home. He was almost a bit worried, anxious even, if Jaskier's reaction to seeing the ancient ruin would just be the same kind of silent admiration.

Evidently, there had been no need. They rounded the last corner and, finally, Kaer Morhen was looming up above them. As soon as his eyes fell on it, Jaskier gasped and ran ahead. He had, apparently, forgotten about his aching limbs he had complained about just that morning. "Is that it?" he asked excitedly. "Geralt, is this it?"

"No, it's another crumbling fortress in the Kaedwen mountains," he deadpanned.

"You're mean," Jaskier accused him and turned back around to the keep. "For months I've dreamt of this moment and what do you do? You mock me, truly a horrible habit, that- oh, gods, Geralt, it's so beautiful!"

"Hmm," he answered, watching Jaskier intently. The childish glee on his face, the snowflakes dancing around him and melting in his hair. "I guess so."

"Can we go inside?"

Another barbed comment was already on the tip of his tongue, but Geralt guessed that he shouldn't ruin the moment. Not if Jaskier was so happy. "We can. Come on."

They were still a good distance away when the gates creaked open and three bulking figures stepped outside. "You're early," he accused Eskel and Lambert once they caught up to them. They weren't supposed to be there. They were messing up Step Five: Meet the family. (Lambert Eskel Lambert Vesemir first.)

"And you're impolite," Vesemir grumbled. "I taught you better, Geralt."

"Hmm," he answered and the silence that followed might've been awkward if not for Jaskier.

Thanks to him there was no silence at all, to be precise. "You must be Vesemir; Geralt told me so much about you. Dare I say, Master Witcher, I am honoured and humbled by the invitation, and am looking forward to my stay. The name's Jaskier and I am at your service," he concluded and bowed with a flourish.

The three witchers gaped at him in surprise and Geralt couldn't help but grin. No overly detailed stories by him could've possibly prepared them for... well, Jaskier. "What," Lambert muttered quietly, "the fuck?"

"Now, that's just rude," Jaskier said as he straightened himself, "don't you think? Geralt, your brother is being rude to me."

It was all he could do not to laugh freely. Instead he shrugged and said: "Told you he's the rude one."

"Oh, you're Lambert!" The bard grinned widely and stretched out his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Lambert huffed in surprise and shook the offered hand. "Tell you what, bard, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."

"Offended," Geralt mumbled just as Eskel said: "Flattered."

Jaskier smiled widely and wickedly. "Both."

Lambert opened his mouth, presumably to return a rude comment, but Jaskier's attention was diverted by Eskel, who gave him a thorough once-over and then nodded. "Welcome to Kaer Morhen, bard."

"Thank you, uh, Eskel?" he hazarded a guess.

A smile tugged on the unscarred corner of his mouth. "That's right."

"Dinner's in an hour," Vesemir cut in. "Maybe you could show our guest to his room, Geralt?"

Right. With the meeting out of the way it was time for Step Six: Show him to his room (Make sure it has some nice fur rugs - Vesemir) (Shag him on the rug - Lambert) (Offer to stay with him if he's cold - Eskel). Both of those additions seemed equally daunting to him.

But before he could even think of an excuse as to why he couldn't do that right now, Roach's reins were ripped from his hands and they were being pushed towards the keep.

"Well, they're certainly eager to get rid of you, considering they haven't seen you for a year," Jaskier quipped once they were inside the keep proper.

"That's not- hmm." 'Fuck.' He had almost betrayed himself. "They'll be different after dinner," he promised. "Besides, you know they can hear you."

"So?" He huffed a laugh. "I know they're just like you; all bark and no bite."

He was about to deny that claim but Lambert's offended howl that reached him from the courtyard quickly changed his mind. That definitely was worth the jab at his own ego. "Come on," he urged, smiling, "no need to continue playing the jester for them any further."

"Why, is there any issue with providing entertainment for a living?" Jaskier teased.

"Only if it's at the expense of me."

He sighed dramatically. "That I know, my dear. That I know."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to give you a tour of the keep."

"You are? Oh, I wouldn't have noticed." Geralt shot him a dirty look. Jaskier snickered maliciously, the bastard. "Oh, yeah, yep. Shutting up. Go ahead, Sir Witcher, show me your magnificent home."

From anyone else it might've been mockery. It might've been mockery from Jaskier, too, if not for the sound of absolute awe in his voice as he took in their surroundings.

Geralt could hardly blame him. It might've been a long time since he had arrived at Kaer Morhen, but he still remembered how dumbstruck he had been at the sheer immensity of the place that should become since home.

It had lost its mysticism since then, but seeing Jaskier's childlike wonder as he led him through the kitchens and great hall made him remember. He showed him the library, too, as well as the stairs down to the hot springs that he must never, ever confuse with those that led to the laboratories.

He closed with the rooms the various witchers claimed as their own: "That's Lambert's room down the hall, don't go there, he's a prick; Vesemir is a few floors below us, claims he's too old for our squabbles; that's mine, and that one's Eskel's, ask him if you need something and I'm not there, not Lambert, he's an arsehole-"

"Geralt," Jaskier said soothingly and put a hand on his arm, "you're rambling."

"Am I?" he asked confused. "Don't think so."

"There's no need to be nervous, dear. I won't abandon you; you're stuck with me for the winter."

"I'm not nervous," Geralt insisted, his fingers twitching nervously.

"Right," Jaskier took his hand away, evidently not very convinced. "I'm sorry for interrupting you, then."

"Don't be," he mumbled, not quite able to tear his gaze from Jaskier's gentle smile.

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"Do I-" He started fidgeting with his lute strap. "Do I have a room, too? I mean, not that I mind sharing with you, that's not the issue at all- gods, I sound stupid-"

His eyes still trained on Jaskier, he reached behind him and opened the door. "There."

"That's my room?" he asked without turning around to look inside.

"That's yours," Geralt confirmed. He had prepared it last winter already. Just in case.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the poet whirled around and rushed into the sparsely furnished room. He looked very much... out of place. The realisation hit him like a slap in the face; but apparently the visual of Jaskier and his bright purple doublet in the grey empty walls of Kaer Morhen was what it took for him to realise how little they were reconcilable.

For the first time in his life he felt self-conscious for his home. "'S not much," Geralt mumbled.

"It's wonderful." Jaskier beamed, carefully inspecting the bed and the rug, peering out the window and into the chest. "Might get a bit cold, though."

He grumbled something he knew to be unintelligible to humans into his beard.

"What was that, love?"

"You could always stay with me," he spoke up. "Y'know. We've shared before."

"That we have! You might find that before long you will be forced to let me take you up on your generous offer."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and left him to it, in order to complete Step Six.5: No, let him arrive first, you idiot! There would be no 'being forced' of any kind, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that to Jaskier, yet.

Despite their apparent incompatibility Jaskier settled into the routine of Kaer Morhen disturbingly quickly. Though 'settle into' wasn't quite the right choice of words. More like 'tear it down and build it anew, but with lyrics, laughter, and luminosity'.

The evening of their arrival was truly mortifying, the worst mix of embarrassing stories of Geralt's childhood and very inappropriate questions directed at Jaskier. Geralt had spent the whole dinner frozen in shock and awe at the masterful display of the bard's craftsmanship.

After an hour of vicious cross-examination, the three witchers had finally backed off. And as Vesemir had retreated to his rooms, Lambert had brought up the alcohol. It hall had spiralled out of Geralt's control after that.

Within the hour Lambert and Jaskier were japing and jabbing at each other as if they were lifelong friends and not acquaintances since a few hours. It took his bard three days to have Vesemir completely wrapped around his finger, intently listening to his droning lectures about basically everything. And not even a fortnight into their stay, he found Jaskier and Eskel in the library, talking with hushed voices. He quickly retreated but not before he heard Jaskier telling his brother how beautiful he was, scars or no scars, and Eskel sniveled quietly.

A month since their arrival saw them trapped into the castle by the heavy snowfalls. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Vesemir from drilling them mercilessly.

They were an hour into their morning routine when they all perked at the sound of soft footsteps passing through the hall. "Jaskier," Geralt said softly.

The bard was bundled up in several quilts, his face barely visible beneath the mess of his hair and the blankets. Still his face lit up with the brightest smile when he saw them. "Mornin', lads," he croaked, "lookin' good, keep it up." He gave them a tired thumbs-up and shuffled off to the kitchen, where Vesemir would provide him with a hot breakfast with a side of 'most-boring-information-on-this-earth'. It was their own morning routine of sorts, and the three of them knew it wouldn't be long before they were discussing the 'merits of the iambic pentameter in 10th century love poetry' or some shit.

"Fuck," Lambert cursed once they knew Jaskier to be out of earshot, "I really can't blame you, Geralt. Too much time with him and I start gawking like a love-sick idiot, too."

"Hmm," Geralt agreed. Jaskier definitely had that effect.

"Jealous, wolf?" Eskel inquired with a knowing smile.

"No," he answered earnestly. If anything, he loved Jaskier more for it. His family wasn't easy to deal with, he knew. But his bard didn't care. He had so much affection to give, even for witchers. 'Especially for witchers.' He closed his eyes with a happy smile.

"Y'know, there's still a couple of steps left on our list," Eskel informed him casually.

Geralt's eyes snapped open as his heart sped up. 'Fuck.' The plan. "Hmm."

"Just fucking get it over with," Lambert yearned. "Your pining isn't any less obnoxious just because he's here."

"If anything, it's gotten worse," Eskel agreed.

"So?" he snapped. He had put it off, that was true. Had waited for the snow, he told himself, but now the snow was here and-

"So, we'll distract him this afternoon," Eskel interrupted his spiralling thoughts.

"And you pull your head outta your arse and fucking follow through," Lambert added.

"Fine," he ground out. "We do that." Not before he kicked both their arses during their training, though, for being such utter dicks.

Before long, however, the inevitable happened. Morning passed over to noon, and, true to their words, Lambert and Eskel whisked Jaskier away after lunch. They left Geralt behind in the hall with a branch in his hands and nothing left to do but complete Step Seven: Hang up a mistletoe.

"Fuck," he muttered. Nearly one year had passed since they had come up with their conspiracy. One year to gather his courage, one year to come up with a plan, one year to at least think about where to fucking put it. "Fuck," he said again, for good measure.

He looked around. Looked to the rafters. Looked at the mistletoe. "Fuck it," he declared and tucked it away to scale up to the rafters.

He was already up there, dangling from one of the beams when he remembered that he had nothing to secure it with besides the silky ribbon that would never fit around it. He scowled darkly. He sure as hell wouldn't climb down and up again. Without further ado he pulled his dagger from his belt and drove it deep into the wood, pinning the mistletoe by the ribbon.

He climbed down again, making sure that it was visible from the ground. 'Perfect,' he decreed. With the mistletoe in place, it was now time for Step Eight: Have Lambert and Eskel inform Jaskier of the mistletoe and a strategically placed Geralt.

He spun around to go and alert his brothers, when he heard a cheerful voice behind him: "Geralt! There you are, you mean witcher, I was wondering where you were hiding. You know, it is not nice to leave your, uh- bedmate all alone and freezing in the morning, and- oh." There was a thoughtful pause. "Now would you look at that."

Geralt heaved a long sigh. He dreaded turning around, for he had a very distinct feeling he knew already what he would see. And fuck, he was not ready for that step. For some stupid reason, he still did turned around.

Jaskier stood in the middle of the hall, squinting up at the ceiling. "Are my eyes deceiving me — and they might be, mind you, my eyes are not as good as a witcher's — or is that a mistletoe I spy up there."

He cursed internally. He knew he should've hung it lower. "Hmm," he answered, his heart beating in his throat. Why was his heart beating in his throat? It wasn't supposed to do that. His voice was surprisingly calm when he said: "Seems like it."

"Oh no!" he moaned woefully. "Quick, Geralt, come here and lift the curse!"

"Curse?" he inquired bemusedly as his feet moved without his volition. "What curse, Jaskier?"

The bard gasped. "Don't you know? When someone passes beneath a mistletoe, they are frozen to the spot until the curse is broken."

"Hmm," he stepped under the mistletoe, too. He should've known Jaskier would make up a story around this. It was just a tradition, for fuck's sake, no curse. Although a curse was certainly more romantic, even he had to admit that. "Must be a rare curse if a witcher's never heard of it."

"The rarest," Jaskier insisted and pointed at his cheek. "It may only be broken with a true love's kiss."

In light of what happened next, let it be known that, in Geralt's defence, he was panicking. Quite thoroughly so. Since the Trials his legs hadn't shaken like that anymore.

He had been promised a pep talk by his brothers before having to confront the situation at hand. And yet they were nowhere to be found and Jaskier was here, evidently expecting him to kiss him.

'Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck.' He was not ready; he was not ready; he was not-

"Geralt?" Jaskier ripped him from his thoughts. "Are you waiting till my nose grows icicles, or what?"

Still, he leaned forward, placing one hand on Jaskier's hip and the other on his shoulder, and pecked him on the cheek.

The cheek. That had not been the plan. That had not been the plan at all. And then, of all things, he heard himself ask: "Can you move again?"

Jaskier blinked, looking just as dumbstruck as Geralt felt. "I- I think so?" he stammered and moved to pull away, blushing furiously.

'Fuck, no,' he remembered thinking. And while he wasn't quite in control of his limbs again, what he did next was probably the single most clever thing he had done in his entire life. Gingerly almost, he tightened his grip on Jaskier. His head tilted to the side, an invitation, an escape.

His bard didn't move. Instead, he said: "Doesn't seem like it."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and leaned in closer. "Difficult curse, seems like. Let me try again."

Before he could even think of changing his mind, Jaskier had his arms looped around Geralt's neck and crushed their lips together. He did his best to reciprocate the kiss, which wasn't easy with fear still gripping his heart tightly, but then Jaskier crowded closer, moulding his body against Geralt's and that was all it took for the tension to seep from his bones and go limb.

It was a weird sensation; being wrapped in Jaskier's arms was so familiar, but he was also kissing Jaskier, which was new- 'Great gods, I am kissing Jaskier, I am kissing Jaskier, I am-'

He pulled back with a triumphant grin, evidently startling his bard. "What?" he asked, very confused.

"I am kissing you," he announced, his grin widening even more.

Jaskier frowned. "That you are, but-"

"I am kissing you," he said again and pecked him on the lips. "And I can keep doing it."

"Oh!" The frown eased away, giving way to the softest of smiles. "That you can, my dear."

So, Geralt did. Again. And again. And again, and again, and again. He didn't know how many times he had kissed Jaskier, how many times Jaskier had kissed him, before he pulled back and blurted: "I love you."

Jaskier stared at him in silent awe, before blushing and cupping his cheeks gently. "That you do, my love," he whispered. "And I love you, too." Softly, he pressed their lips together again.

"You do?" Geralt asked disbelievingly.

Jaskier smirked. "I do. For years and years, I have. I thought you knew."

"Fuck," he muttered. Did that mean... 'I didn't have to do any of this.' He could've just- "I'm an idiot."

"Only sometimes," he allowed, giggling sillily. Geralt was compelled to join in. "Besides, you’re my idiot, and I love you for it." He shifted a little, so he could lean his head comfortably onto Geralt's shoulder despite them being nearly the same height.

"So," Jaskier drawled, curling a strand of Geralt's hair around his finger, "are we just going to keep standing here, or...?"

He scoffed. Of course, they wouldn't. He had a plan, after all. "Fuck." The plan.

Jaskier raised his head. "Is that a curse or an answer?"

"Yes," he answered warily.

It earned him the most beautiful snorting laugh he had ever heard. "What are you cursing at, love?"

"We skipped Step Eight," he admitted, "got right to Step Nine."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Step Nine: Kiss Jaskier." The poet just gawked at him. "I had a list," he explained.

"You had?" Jaskier's eyes lit up and he made grabby hands. "Show me, show me!"

Reluctantly, Geralt handed it over, studying Jaskier's face carefully as he read through it.

"I knew it," Jaskier concluded finally.

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on!" He threw up his hands. "You were acting weird all year round, Geralt! Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but still, weird. It took me about ten minutes to figure out there was some ploy at play." He laughed quietly and waved the paper around. "Though I never would've guessed what was amiss."

"You don't like it."

"On the contrary! It's a wonderful plan," the poet said and pecked him on the lips. "I've got to admit, though, Lambert was right: you should've just fucked me on that rug once we got here."

"Hmmm." Geralt nuzzled against Jaskier's neck, holding him closer when he tried to squirm away from the tickling sensation. "That still an option?"

"Very much so. I believe it has to be one more step before completing your list." He pulled him close and whispered against his lips: "Take me to bed, my love"

And how could Geralt refuse such a request? Especially if it coincided so luckily with Step Ten.

#my writing #the witcher #geraskier #elliestormfound #look i've got an ask #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #eskel #Lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #kaer morons

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sourwolfandlilred · 3 years

Text

Out in west texas, it hardly ever rains

(but when it does, it’s amazing grace)

Stiles Stilinski flipped off the radio, tired of the breathless play-by-play of the Friday night football game. Golden boy quarterback Derek Hale had already scored four touchdowns guaranteeing the “douba-yah”--as it was called around these parts--anyway.

His jeep bounced along the rutted road as storm clouds gathered in the distance. Heat lightning flashed in the distance, but it would likely burn off before it got to Marfa.

The church stood sentry on the edge of town, parched dust-cracked earth stretching for miles and miles behind it. Stiles parked the Jeep and headed inside.

To the piano.

It was an old model, the C key so worn the ivory dipped where a finger tip would rest. But it played just as pretty as the best grand out there. Stiles didn’t bother with lights, just sat on the bench, and played.

The thunder accompanied him, a deep bass line that Stiles felt in his chest. By the time he finished the song, his cheeks were damp and the storm had passed.

***

“You weren’t at the game.”

Stiles slammed his locker and rolled his eyes, side stepping Derek Hale in all his snapback, wanna-be frat boy glory. “While I’m oh-so-flattered that you noticed my absence, me thinks you should get an MRI to check for brain damage if you thought I would show in the first place.”

Derek wasn’t deterred by Stiles’s acid tongue. Instead, he fell in step beside him, despite the fact that Stiles--for reasons he wouldn’t admit to--knew that Derek’s first class was on the opposite side of the school.

“Would you come if I asked you?”

Stiles stopped abruptly enough to earn himself a curse from the freshmen behind him who hadn’t been expecting. He met Derek’s eyes. “Why would you ask me to?”

The corner of Derek’s mouth ticked up, but it was almost self-conscious rather than smug. “Does it matter?”

***

Stiles went to the fucking game.

***

Lydia Martin hosted a party every friday night to fete the celebrities of their podunk town. Stiles had never been to one, though all sixty-three of their classmates were always invited. The place was too small for bullying tactics and popularity contests.

Someone shoved a red solo cup into Stiles’s hands, and he downed half the contents in one swallow. His fingers itched for smooth ivory and he tried to ignore the jittery sensation of looking for someone in particular.

“Brooooo, you came,” Scott McCall slurred in Stiles’s ear while slinging an arm around his neck. Stiles took the weight of his drunk, pliant body, turning the tackle into a hug. They rocked like that as Stiles laughed. Scott loved everyone and everyone loved Scott, but Scott loved Stiles best.

“Hey where’s your QB?” Stiles asked as casually as possible, and Scott beamed at him. Apparently he hadn’t been subtle.

“Gazebo,” Scott waved, flashing all his white teeth so that his eyes squinted into tiny bits of happiness.

Stiles maneuvered him toward Kira and then wove his way through gyrating bodies and couples who had too little sense of what level of PDA was appropriate.

When Stiles stepped outside, his skin tingled with the electricity in the air. Something was coming.

Derek was alone, surprisingly. It seemed like he was forever surrounded by fawning groupies, or at the very least his phalanx of ride-or-die friends. Stiles didn’t bother saying hi as he sat on the bench next to him.

“Did you have fun?” Derek asked as he took a hit on his joint. Golden-boy wasn’t always so golden.

Stiles let his legs fall apart until their knees touched. “No.”

“But you came.” Derek said, said without looking at him.

“But I came,” Stiles agreed, plucking the joint out of his loose fingers. Had they been doing this dance for years now? Stiles couldn’t tell. Derek was a part of the landscape as much as the snow-topped mountains in the distance.

They’d never really been friends. Stiles’s father was the Sheriff, Derek’s mother the lawyer. They had enough crime that it caused friction between the two families. But they weren’t exactly Romeo and Juliet, either. They were just two dudes trying to make it out of this god-forsaken town anyway they could.

For Derek that was football. From the Smurf League when they’d been kindergartners it had been obvious exactly where Derek was headed in life. First draft pick for the NFL.

For Stiles it was the long-shot Juliard--a dream his mother had passed onto him the day she’d died.

He and Derek were as different as could be, and yet still...

Maybe it was the way Derek’s eyes lingered on Stiles’s mouth when he took a hit. Maybe it was the Stiles let his hand drop to Derek’s thigh after he handed back the joint.

Something in the back of Stiles’s brain itched, though. Him and Derek? It wasn’t just two queer kids finding each other in bumble-fuck Texas. He just didn’t know what it was.

“Do you want to play?” Stiles asked, his eyes on the lights from the house. “Professionally I mean.”

“Nah,” Derek shook his head, earning a sharp glance from Stiles. “It’s what I’m good at but... no.” He laughed softly. “I like my brain intact.”

Stiles huffed out a breath. “Same.”

Derek glanced over. It wasn’t often that Stiles complimented him. Then he lifted one shoulder. They were close enough that it brushed Stiles’s arm. “I’ll use it to pay for college. But I want to be...”

He took a hit instead of continuing, and then handed it over to Stiles. Stiles bumped his knee against Derek’s. “Yeah?”

A blush crawled along Derek’s perfect cheekbones, and Stiles had to look away lest he do something utterly mortifying.

“I like gardening,” Derek mumbled. “I thought maybe landscape architecture.”

Maybe some version of Stiles would have laughed at the admission. The idea of snap-back wearing, pick-up truck driving, all-American stereotype in the flesh planting daisies should have been funny.

It wasn’t.

Stiles took a hit. Held the smoke in. Then in one swift move shifted so that he was in Derek’s lap, his knees on either side of Derek’s hips. Derek’s fingers came up, gripped the skin just above the waistband of Stiles’s jeans.

The moment seemed frozen in time, syrupy and unreal. Stiles leaned in and Derek’s lips parted. Smoke slipped out between them, but in the next moment, Stiles was pressing it into Derek’s mouth.

Derek breathed it in. Breathed Stiles in, really.

When they drew apart, Derek’s eyes were wide, almost vulnerable, and Stiles ached with every part of his being. He wanted this to be real.

So he ran.

***

The church was as quiet as it always was when Stiles came to practice at the old piano. He made sure of it.

But for the first time in a long time he didn’t want to play.

The keys had always offered him an escape, a dreamworld where his mother wasn’t dead, his father wasn’t an alcoholic, and he wasn’t a weird kid who talked too much and dreamed too big for this small Texas town.

For once, he didn’t want to escape.

He pressed a thumb to his lower lip, as if he could capture the warmth of Derek there. The way the tip of his tongue had darted out in what had turned into a goodbye.

“Play for me?”

Stiles didn’t startle. He’d almost expected Derek to show, though he couldn’t say why.

But you came. But I came.

Without acknowledging the request, Stiles dropped his fingers onto the keys. Amazing Grace was so easy, he didn’t have to think about it. By the time he finished, Derek was on the bench beside him. “Beautiful.”

Stiles chewed on the inside of his mouth. “My mother taught me how to play.”

A beat. And then, “Do you play because she wanted you to, or do you play because you want to.”

The question struck, like lightning, in the very center of Stiles’s chest. “Does it matter?”

It was a deliberate echo and Derek huffed. “No.”

Maybe it had seemed like walls going up when that wasn’t the case at all. So Stiles took a breath. “Aren’t all of our lives made up of a combination of that? Expectations and hopes and desires and rational thought and irrational emotions? Her wanting me to play doesn’t mean it’s any less important if it had come from nowhere. It just makes it all the more meaningful that I am doing it, doesn’t it?”

“But what about your life?” Derek asked, and in that moment Stiles realized how much Derek’s trajectory had been guided by other people.

“It’s not an either or,” Stiles said as carefully as possible. “For me.”

Derek nodded, his eyes on the piano. In the smallest voice Stiles had ever heard him use, he said, “I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Stiles nearly laughed at that. But instead he nudged Derek’s shoulder. “No matter what you do, I’m pretty sure it would be impossible for you to disappoint anyone.” He searched for the right words, the ones that wouldn’t dismiss the fear, the ones that wouldn’t add more weight to Derek’s shoulders. “I would be proud of you no matter what you do.”

That blush again, the one that would drive Stiles to distraction. “Play it again for me?”

“Anytime,” Stiles promised and surprised himself by meaning it.

Outside the clouds opened up and the rain beat against the windows.

Inside, Derek hooked his ankle around Stiles’s, and the music played.

#sterek #sterek drabble #high school au #football au #stiles #derek hale deserves nice things #sterek fluff #sterek fic

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