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randomfandomimagine · 4 years

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Soul of a Warrior. Chapter 11: Overflown

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship: Jaskier x Nissa (OC)

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A/N: These are some of my favorite Jasnissa (Jaskier + Nissa, do you all like the ship name? :D) interactions in the series! I hope you enjoy reading!

Panic takes over my blissful serenity when I come to my senses. My head is pounding. I can’t remember what happened or when I went to sleep. I stir a bit, yet freeze when I meet with something warm and firm against me. I open my eyes and look over my shoulder. Jaskier peacefully sleeps behind me, with his arm dangled over my waist. My mind races, urgently trying to recover memories from yesterday. It is blank. Not being able to remember anything worries me. I think hard, shutting my eyes tight in concentration.

Geralt got hurt. We treated him. That sorceress, Yennefer, was here too. She and Geralt argued. He shouted at me when I tried to reassure him about how they actually loved each other despite it all. And then… I returned to Jaskier. We drank. A lot. That is all.

“J-Jaskier?” I utter, hoping in our drunkenness we didn’t do anything… intimate. At least we are still fully clothed, which contributes to calm me down.

He only hums quite happily and snuggles even closer to me. I blush. Fortunately, we didn’t seem to do anything. Not that I wouldn’t want to, but… Wait, do I want to? Well, perhaps, but not when I am not fully aware, when I can’t even remember it.

I sigh, resolved to enjoying his closeness. As quietly as possible, I shift to be facing him. Jaskier is smiling in his sleep, looking quite adorable. I smile myself and snuggle closer. His arms unconsciously tighten around me. My heart flutters. A new feeling takes over me, threatening to make me addicted to it. It is so unbelievably wonderful. I have to hold back the urge to lovingly push his hair out of his eyes. It tangles with his eyelashes.

Geralt’s words suddenly echo in my mind. Despite his harsh ways and high volume, he was right about one thing: it is stupid to conceal our feelings. Even if I am still not sure about Jaskier’s, I might as well try my luck by confessing to him. Easier said than done, though. I picture the scene, of professing my undying love for him. He would only flirt back and not take it seriously. If I insisted, he might laugh. Jaskier would think I was teasing and not believe me when I admitted that my feelings were true. Even if he did, could he reciprocate them? Would he reject me and ruin our wonderful dynamic?

Groaning in frustration, I hold on to his shirt. Stupid bard. This wouldn’t be so hard if he was more sincere. Is his flattering honest or just a façade? I have seen him flirt with other women, why would I be any different from all of them?

“Mm… Hey” A somnolent voice welcomes me, inviting me to look up into his eyes.

I chuckle as he watches me through one eye, rubbing the other to sober up. Just a glance at his angelic face and my vexation disappears, especially when he looks so sleepy and he still smiles at me. I can’t quite explain why, but it feels… magical. All of this.

“Did I wake you?” I gently tug at his shirt and he shakes his head.

“How are you feeling?” Jaskier asks, much to my surprise.

I gawk at him, but he only examines my expression. Did I miss something? Oh, gods… Did something actually happen last night? Did I somehow hurt myself? Did I say something that perhaps upset and worried him?

“Why would you ask?”

“Well” He makes a pause, laughing a little. “You were quite… giddy…”

“Oh, dear…” I cover my face with my hands in anticipation. “What happened?”

“You see, heartbroken by Geralt’s boorish manners, you came to me” The drowsiness slowly leaves his face as he smirks. “And I looked after you when you drank wine like it was water and you were stranded on a desert”

“You drank too” I complain, though his grin doesn’t leave off.

“Unlike you, my fair Nissa, I can hold my liquor” He taps my nose with one finger and I scrunch it. “I didn’t drink that much in any case”

“Ugh…” Just imagining the events that could have taken place, I cringe in embarrassment.

“I brought you here to the room and made sure you were alright. You know, like a gentleman” His deeds lose significance the more he gloats about them. “You felt a bit sick, so I put you to bed”

I observe him in search of signs that prove he is making it up. He only tilts his head innocently.

“If you are lying to me…”

“I would never!”

Before I can make up my mind about the veracity of his tale, the door roughly swings open. I groan and shrink closer to Jaskier when a headache throbs in my temples as a result of the loud noises. He protectively holds me closer.

“You’re awake” I didn’t quite appreciate the low volume of Jaskier’s tender voice until Geralt came along being loud and crude. “We’re leaving”

“We’re not talking to you” Jaskier proudly says, not even looking his direction.

I have a full view of the witcher from my spot. He stares at the bard’s back without a word. One of his grunts echoes around the silent room. Tempting Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t move a muscle. As expected, the curiosity gets the better of him and the bard looks at his friend over the shoulder.

“Where are we going, exactly?”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me”

“And bless you with absolute silence?” I sarcastically tell him, sitting up on the bed. “Not a chance, witcher”

“Hm…” Geralt only says, refusing to make eye contact with me. Still, he does not apologize. And I doubt he ever will.

“Uh… well?” Jaskier sits up too, awkwardly glancing between the both of us. “Where are we off to?”

“The outskirts”

“That sounds fun”

“Yen is taking us there”

So they have worked things out after all. How ironic that his outburst was for naught.

“What?!” The bard jumps to his feet, a hand falling over his hip. “Absolutely not!”

My head pounds, although that is not the only reason why I grumble. I find myself bearing certain hostility towards Yennefer myself. Even if she hasn’t personally attacked me as Jaskier claimed she has him, it is her mere presence in the group that disrupts our entire dynamic. With Geralt especially, who loses his mind whenever she is around.

“Why on earth is she taking us there?” I stand myself, stopping beside Jaskier.

“She wants to go to a nearby intersection” Geralt briefly explains. “It will probably be swarming with monsters”

Jaskier blinks repeatedly, surely holding back a snarky remark on the matter. Instead he grins sarcastically.

“I see” He says as he nods vehemently. “So you, ever her loyal protector, insisted on accompanying her. How did that work out for you, Geralt?”

He must have been painfully accurate, because the witcher only groans.

“We must go, Nissa” Jaskier takes me by the arm and goes ahead of him. “To make sure she doesn’t spill venom all over and poison him”

I look back just in time to see Geralt rubbing his temples and arming himself with patience.

A small river runs alongside us, and its music accompanies us as we walk. Sporadic sprouts of green vegetation cover the brown soil. The ground is soft under our boots. It feels as though we could dig to reach the power hidden beneath, yet that won’t be necessary in the presence of a mage. Yennefer now leads the way, and although an outsider would think she was wandering, the sorceress seems to know what she is doing. The horses are restless when we stop and search, which alludes to the presumed large amount of power contained in here. A few cats calmly sit around as well, seemingly attracted by the very same thing.

“Uh… forgive my ignorance” Jaskier pipes up. “But… what is an intersection, exactly?”

I remain silent, because even if I have a vague notion about what they are, I wouldn’t be able to put it into words. Especially not with how sluggish I feel at the moment. Geralt steps right in, however, expertly teaching us more on the matter.

“They’re places from which mages can draw power” He responds, although his eyes never once leave Yennefer. The latter stops walking and stares at her hands, and she grins widely.

“It’s here” She confirms, facing her palms to the ground.

Geralt pulls out his sword, vigilant to our surroundings, and nods in her direction. He has her back. The sorceress then closes her eyes. She doesn’t move from the spot, but she looks focused. Jaskier sighs in boredom next to me, leaning an elbow on my shoulder. It is indeed uneventful, not the adventure I expected. Had I known we would be watching Yennefer just standing there, I would have stayed in the inn and sulked, perhaps prepare a witty speech to scold Geralt... or just continue to enjoy that closeness with Jaskier.

“So…” He mutters in my direction. “How’s your hangover?”

I bite my lip in self-restraint, only further irritated by his smirk.

“Quit your smugness, bard”

“What smugness? It was a genuine question”

“Well, I am going to genuinely wipe that smirk off your face”

"I care about you, Nissa, I was only... Wait, what was that sound?”

“Don’t change the subject now”

“No, really… I heard something…”

I open my mouth to complain, too tired to put up with it. And then I hear it too, some sort of growling sound. Geralt calls attention to it soon after.

“Archespores!” He warns us before lunging towards a disgusting looking plant that emerges from the ground with a hissing sound. It is nearly camouflaged amongst the vegetation. “Be careful, they are poisonous!”

“Jaskier!” I hurriedly push him off me. “Protect the horses!”

While he stumbles back to go do what I asked him to, I study my surroundings. Geralt is easily fighting off those creatures as he expertly swings his blade, protecting Yennefer while she takes the power from the intersection. I take my sword, which I have been carrying lately since training with Geralt. Unlike the witcher, who fends up the poisonous spikes that the archespores throw, I can only try to fight them off as best I can. I swing my sword in a pathetic attempt to deflect them, though it isn’t quite as effective as when Geralt does it. I grit my teeth and take a step back.

“Nissa, look out!” Jaskier’s voice sounds extremely close to me.

Everything seems to happen slowly. Thanks to his warning, I manage to see one of the creatures approach me. An arcespore has suddenly protruded from the ground to my right, and so I cut through it precisely in time to avoid myself getting hurt. I cut off its stem and kick it to push it away from me. It drags across the ground like a disgusting reptile. I exhale in relief. However, Jaskier had thrown himself forward in an attempt to warn me.

The archespore that I cut off is headed is way now. When he yelps, Geralt calls his name. The witcher’s hand is stretched out in his direction, flexing his fingers in a very specific way. I know what will happen before it occurs. I am not quick enough to stop it. Indeed, Geralt’s sign violently sends Jaskier flying back and slamming his back on the ground. While his landing is rough and he gasps when his body meets the hard surface, I can tell Geralt was only trying to get him out of harm’s way.

As soon as the path is free, the witcher casts fire upon the creature. The archespore shrieks, though it doesn’t die. It is adamant on hurting us, returning to its target. My hearts is pounding in my chest, though skips a beat when Jaskier screams in pain.

“Jaskier!” I quickly glance at him to see he is still on the ground, groaning and clutching his side. If he doesn’t move, he’ll get hurt. “Hold on!”

While Geralt prepares to cast the sign again, I stand between Jaskier and the archespore. My hands are trembling and hinder the simple task of wielding my sword. Fortunately, Geralt rids us of the creature with the summoning of his fire sign. Another one has erupted from the ground close to Jaskier’s head, and so I don’t hesitate to cut off its stem and kick it as far away as possible. Then I glance at him as the bard writhes in pain.

“Hang on, Jaskier!” I insist, even though when I look again, the chaos has died down. The archespores have all being taken care of. Geralt stands in the middle of it all, silver sword dripping with archespore juice. Yennefer triumphantly sighs next to him, breathing heavily after canalizing the power this place offered her.

“Everyone okay?” The witcher’s eyes sweep around.

“No!” Jaskier exclaims, holding his hand up as a cry for help. “I might be dying”

“Jas…” I worriedly call him, rushing to kneel by his side. “What happened?”

“Geralt threw me across with his witchering” He whines, wincing and clutching his side.

“Uh… yeah…” The witcher mutters, approaching us. “I was trying to get you away from the archespore”

“Are you bleeding?” I ask Jaskier, looking him up and down for signs of injury.

“No, but…” He sharply breathes in, groaning in pain. “I-I think I broke something”

I have a haunting suspicion that it’s his ribs. While I carefully move his hands away, I feel Geralt and Yennefer hovering over me, watching the bard. I push his doublet to the side to have better access to his injury. Jaskier yelps in pain when my fingers gingerly press there where he was clutching. I bow my head, confirming my early diagnosis. At least this is something quite simple and my many hours dedicated to studying have been useful on the matter.

“You broke some ribs” I carefully palpate, feeling the bone under his shirt.

“Ugh, brilliant...” He fidgets in the spot, still not daring to sit up further.

“You’ll survive” Yennefer tiredly tells him behind me.

I sneak my hands under his shirt to properly feel the fracture. He immediately shrinks away from my touch.

“Ah, your hands are cold!” Before I can ask him to suck it up, he sighs and presses my hands against his side. “It's quite nice, actually”

“We should get you some ice” I still check his ribs, counting two broken bones. It is a relief that they are the lower ribs, since the higher ones are closer to the lungs and the heart and could have complicated things by breaking, being so close to the organs.

“Let’s go back” Geralt offers Jaskier a hand, which he immediately takes. Quite easily, he is pulled to his feet.

I stand up myself, watching him carefully. Jaskier still holds a hand to his side. Broken ribs are indeed extremely painful as well as a slow healing process. He drags his feet across the ground, carrying himself differently as he tries to favor his injury. His hand never leaves that spot, putting pressure while he breathes carefully.

As we walk away from that blasted place, Yennefer has started speaking and commenting about the newfound power surging through her veins. Jaskier talks over her, seemingly too focused on his pain to pay attention to her. Or perhaps he does it to antagonize her.

“Ugh… Geralt, you beast” He mutters, still groaning. “You broke my ribs”

“Better having broken ribs than being dead” The witcher dryly replies. However, when I glance at him he is frowning a bit. “Nissa will patch you up when we’re back”

That comment gathers Jaskier’s attention on me. Intending to help him, I quietly move to his good side and close the distance between us. He watches me in curiosity as I wrap an arm around him. This way, I securely hold him up by with one hand on his back and other on his chest. Jaskier smiles a bit and accepts my aid by resting an arm over my shoulders and leaning his weight over me. He sighs in relief with my support.

“You’re awfully quiet” He points out, which I hadn’t realized myself. I am just not feeling very talkative at the moment.

It isn’t the first time I see him getting hurt, and yet… a sudden restlessness has nestled within me. When I saw him falling and heard him scream, something stirred in my heart. Despite knowing he wasn’t badly injured, my mind began racing. He occupied all my thoughts, and it pained me deeply to know he was hurt in any way, no matter how mild.

“Uh…” I trail off while I buy myself some time to think. “I have a headache”

Jaskier grins when he is reminded of my hangover, and hence, of what happened last night. Honestly, I don’t feel the same amusement right now. I hope he isn’t aware of how distressed I am at the moment. I tremble slightly, and my lungs work relentlessly to get some air I can breathe with. All because of that thought that consumes me, that something far worse than a few broken ribs could have been his fate and can be at any given moment during our journey. That thought deeply upsets me.

Jaskier’s added weight proves exhausting as we finally reach the inn once more. The tension makes home in my muscles, and my entire being begs for me to rest. Sleep for a long time. These days have been daunting to say the least.

I am about to enter the establishment when I realize Geralt and Yennefer have stopped. They are a few steps of distance from Jaskier and me, calmly speaking. Really close. Too close. They then kiss, and my stomach churns at the sight. A non-physical ache overpowers any other discomfort in my body. It is a yearning too deep to fathom. Jaskier is extremely close to me, though it breaks my heart to think that I might never have with him what they have. Refusing to idly watch Yennefer and Geralt kissing, I turn to him.

“W… What’s wrong?” He immediately asks, noticing something is off. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Because I wish you learned my feelings. And I feel stupidly happy whenever you are around me. I swoon at the thought of kissing you. I tingle all over at the memory of our fake kiss. I sigh when I lock eyes with you and immerse myself in the unforgiving beauty of the ocean in your eyes. Your smile makes my heart sing loud enough for me to compose the best of ballads despite knowing nothing about music. Because I would die for you. And in spite of it all, I am too frightened to tell you any of this.

I shake my head and tiredly put my arms around his neck instead. Very gingerly, I hold him close and nuzzle his chest. There’s that gentle warmth I crave.

“You scared me…” I say instead, concealing all these thoughts swarming in my mind.

“Sorry…” Jaskier whispers, tenderly wrapping an arm around me as well. “I’m alright, Nissa”

Were it not by his broken ribs, I would squeeze him tight against me, as tight as I could. So tight I’d bruise him. That may quell this need I have, this longing to have him impossibly close. At least that would make me content if I can’t have him.

“You are” I only mutter, scolding myself for being a coward. For yielding to this weakness.

I cannot conceive the idea of telling him. Even after all these emotions resurged, it is impossible for me to muster enough courage to pour them all out. The result is far too unnerving and intimidating, and a possible rejection is enough to break my heart just with the thought of it. Instead, I content myself with holding him. Feel him close against me. A bit hurt, but alive and well. Warm and gentle as always. Yes, that may be enough for now. How could I confess at this moment, in any case? We are all tired and a bit grumpy. It isn’t the right time.

His hand finds the dip in my waist, that spot it has rested on so many times and that seems the perfect place for him to hold on to. He gently pushes me off him. He stares. Despite how pleasant and hypnotizing they are, I cannot seem to be able to look into his eyes.

“Hey” Jaskier whispers, reluctantly making me gaze into them. “Did I scare you so badly?”

“Well…”

“Are you still worried then?”

“No…” I manage a feeble smile. “No, I’m only tired”

“Me too” He heavily sighs, although the movement pains him and causes him to wince.

“You should get some rest, Jas” I am about to hold on to him again and take him inside, though I glance at the pair.

Geralt and Yennefer are still standing too closely, and I don’t need to be a seer to understand their intimate thoughts. I would assume she wishes to leave soon, but not without spending some time alone with the witcher first. My heart bleeds in envy of what they have when their foreheads touch.

“Go on” I kindly pat Jaskier’s back. “I will be right there”

The bard nods and slowly makes his way into the inn. I on turn move towards them. Noticing this, Geralt walks my direction as well, gesturing for Yennefer to wait for him. A bit distant from us, the sorceress stares at me. Her violet eyes hold my gaze when I reciprocate, though they then follow Jaskier quite eloquently. Am I truly that transparent?

The witcher watches me expectantly, and so I say what I came to. No more.

“Uh… Jaskier and I are going in… to get some rest and treat to his injury”

“Good”

“Good…”

“What is it then?”

“I don’t understand…”

“You’re upset”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jaskier will recover”

“I… I know”

“And still lost your smile”

He doesn’t alter his expression, only watching me closely. Self-conscious about it, I let out a forced chuckle. He’s trying. He is stubborn and exasperating, but he is trying.

“I thought you didn’t care, witcher”

“Hm”

The silence is painfully heavy. We refuse to make eye contact. I rummage my brain to think of something to say, but my mind is completely blank. Anyhow, I don’t have the energy to even attempt to regain our prior dynamic. I am absolutely exhausted.

“Well, uh… Enjoy yourselves” I blurt out, rubbing my nape.

“You too” Even though the conversation is clearly over, we linger in the spot.

That dreaded silence returns. I internally cringe at the awkward moment. His golden eyes watch me. I take a hesitant step back. Geralt turns his body away from me as well. We say nothing else. I grimace at how terrible that interaction was and go to reunite with Jaskier.

When I enter the room, I find Jaskier sitting in the bed. He has taken his doublet off to be left in his white undershirt. As much as it vexes me, he looks very attractive in it. His notepad lies on his lap, and he furiously scribbles down on it. A pronounced frown is etched in his brow.

“What did that poor paper ever do to you?” My voice gathers is attention in me now.

“Ugh, Nissa…” Jaskier sighs. “It took me ages to get my doublet off!”

My lips part and I am about to mindlessly reply. Had he waited, I could have helped him take his clothes off. I remain silent and gather my efforts in not blushing when the thought flusters me. This is getting ridiculous.

Jaskier does not notice any of my inner struggles, far too preoccupied with his injury.

“I can’t do anything, it hurts all over!” He continues to complain, throwing an arm up in the air. “I can’t play my lute, I can’t walk, I can’t even sing!”

“Then lie down” I take the notepad from him and set it over the table.

“Bollocks” He barks even as he obeys and lies on his back. His hand keeps pressing against his side as though it is stuck there. “Every breath is agony”

“Try to relax” I say as I put a blanket over him, not wanting him to on top of all get cold.

“Will you be looking after me, Nissa?” There is a bit of vulnerability in his voice that makes me feel even more protective of him, if possible.

“Of course, my duties as the group medic bound me” I accommodate the blanket over his chest, and he smirks at me as though he is enjoying my cares far too much.

“Don’t lie, love, you do it because you adore me”

“Or because otherwise you would only whine all day”

"I would not..." While he talks, I take a step away from the bed, but he is already alert. “Wait, w-where are you going?”

“I should get you some ice for the swelling of the ribs and-“ Before I can move further, his hand has tenderly wrapped around mine.

“No, just stay here with me” When I stare at him astonishment, he gives me those blasted puppy eyes that I can’t resist. “Please?”

I heave a dramatic sigh and sit in the bed with him, careful to choose his good side. Jaskier grins in celebration and I shake my head at him. It sets my teeth on edge how much I adore him.

“You think you only have to give me those eyes and cutely say ‘please’ and I will do anything”

“I absolutely do”

“Stupid bard”

Perhaps at any other moment, I would have been able to wittily retort back. Yet right this second I can’t think clearly. Many hypotheses circle my brain as to why that can be: my dispute with Geralt, my hangover, the remnants of adrenaline still pursing through my veins… though none of that is true, I am only deceiving myself and I know it. It’s Jaskier. It’s always him, flustering me with his presence alone, with his dashing smile and kind eyes. Gods, when did I become a hopeless romantic that believes in true love? Pathetic.

“You can lie down with me” He teases me, poking my side and making me jolt up when it tickles. “My ribs may be broken, but I’m not made of glass”

“You might still break, Jas” I acquire a confident façade to hide the turmoil nestled deep within me. “You are such a delicate flower”

Jaskier completely freezes for a moment. His expression showcases a myriad of emotions as it changes from confusion to outrage to moderate amusement.

“Wh…” He only utters. His mouth falls agape. “You… Nissa, I…”

A genuine grin takes over my mouth, though it quickly vanishes when he harshly pulls at my arm. I squeak and fall over him, lying down as he wanted me to. Fortunately, I leaned on his chest and not on his ribs. Even so, he grimaces a bit as it probably hurt in any case. Nonetheless, he doesn’t complain. He only stares at me with great concentration.

Rolling my eyes in resignation, I get comfortable next to him. The bed is still too small for two people and we are forced to press our bodies together. I take notice of the mere inches that separate our faces, our noses and our foreheads. Our lips. Considering leaning back, I open my mouth to utter an excuse. However, Jaskier fidgets and clears his throat himself.

“Will you speak to me, Nissa?” I watch him in confusion, so he elaborates. “The sound of your voice is soothing”

The intensity of his gaze takes my breath away. I part my lips once more, trying to say something, perhaps trying to say it all. He said something so sweet that I want to reciprocate. The moment is tender and intimate, and he hasn't said a joke in a bit. Perhaps the outcome may be more favorable than I first imagined. This is my chance. If I could speak my mind…

My cheeks burn in anticipation. My breath hitches in my throat.

“Actually, I…” I start, mentally cursing my rapid heartbeat. “I need to tell you something”

“Oh, please, not now, love! We’re both exhausted” When his fingers reach out to fix my hair, I feel as though my heart will jump out of my chest. “It surely can wait”

“But you said…” I clumsily mutter, feeling myself blushing still. Can he not see it?

“I meant something trivial” He sighs, and I can nearly read the exhaustion in his features.

“A-Alright” Perhaps it’s for the best. I wouldn’t know how to say it in any case.

We have plenty of time, I can tell him some other moment. And yet, this sudden weight in my chest, this craving, won’t leave anymore. I am suddenly certain that I won't find peace until I express these feelings that have been eating me alive before I even realized them. I had loved Jaskier for longer than I'd care to admit, long before he kissed me. Although I had loved plenty of times before, it was never in such a way, as now my emotions and thoughts are flimsy and changing. All because of him.

“Good” He murmurs, never looking away from my eyes.

“I… don’t know what to talk about” His staring rattles me, although I can’t look away either. His eyes are so pleasant to look at, so beautiful and comforting.

“Sing to me then” He closes his eyes and snuggles closer to me. Does he even realize the way he makes my heart race? How the sight of his comfortable smile makes me sigh?

Glad to spoil him, I accede to his petition. However, the only songs that I can think of are his, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of singing one of his ballads back to him. He would never let me forget it.

“Nothing comes to mind” I stutter, noticing how close we are still. “What am I to sing?”

“Anything” His hand once more returns to my waist as he easily lets his arm fall over me.

A melody suddenly reaches my mind and I start singing. It is a slow song, one talking about feelings and romance. Quite fitting given the situation. Jaskier’s grin grows as he lowly sings along with me. Of course he knows the song. I shiver at how beautiful the sound of our voices together is. The wonderful music of our souls dancing together. It perfectly fills the quietness and nearly lulls me to sleep. I sink down into him. I smile from how perfect it is to be by his side, and give in to exhaustion as our harmonies die down.

An unknown sound pulls me out of my peaceful slumber. I am still tired when I open my eyes, yet it all melts away at the sight of a sleeping Jaskier. We haven’t moved from our position, facing each other. I am slightly worried, however, when I notice he seems a bit pale and sick. My hand gingerly brushes against his cheek. When my palm presses against it, I breathe out in relief that he doesn't have a fever. Instead of retracting my hand, however, I find the touch to be far too enjoyable. I stroke his skin and reach out to push his hair to the side. It’s always in his eyes.

“Nissa…” He smiles. A tingling sensation spreads up my back. I freeze, fearing that he caught me, yet Jaskier stills. After several more seconds of silence, I confirm that he is still asleep. My lips automatically curve up in a smile. Butterflies flies in my stomach. I tenderly stroke his cheek again.

I turn on my back, hurriedly taking my hand off his face, when the door swings open. In walks Geralt, eyebrows raised at the state he finds us in. Jaskier’s head then softly falls on my shoulder. I happily chuckle, and the witcher lets out an amused hum as well. I smile at him.

“I was hoping we could do some more training” He says, loud enough for me to hear but low enough not to wake him. “Guess this isn’t the best moment”

I flush knowing he is perfectly aware of how comfortable and delighted I currently am. Nonetheless, it does not bother me. I am willing to put up with his teasing, it can’t ruin my happiness.

“Later perhaps?” I only say, unable to contain a big smile.

“Hm” His eyes move from him to me. “I’ll be outside”

Jaskier tightens his arm, previously loosely falling over me, to pull himself incredibly close to me. I am conflicted between yelping and laughing. Geralt does chuckle himself before leaving us. I ultimately giggle a bit myself, wondering if it’s normal to be overwhelmed with bliss in such a manner. I feel giddy and silly for it. He is only resting over me, yet I have never felt safer and happier. Perhaps I am more fatigued that I had anticipated, these days have certainly been challenging... or perhaps I am too comfortable with Jaskier. Whatever the reason, I fall asleep again before I can do anything about it.

For several days, we have been taking it easy, barely leaving the inn and ensuring our dear bard gets plenty of rest. While he does, Geralt has insisted on training with me, yet ensuring I don’t overwork myself either. I was recently gravely injured after all.

It is taking me a bit to grow used to the weight and feeling of the bigger weapon, but Kader’s sword proves more useful than my small dagger. It is also a bit difficult to focus on the witcher’s lessons ever since Jaskier has gone outside with us and curiously watches. At least he is feelings better. Yet his mere presence proves distracting, even if he remains mostly quiet. Mostly.

Now, as I watch Geralt demonstrate how he swings his sword, I feel slightly more confident when wielding mine. I idly watch the small cloud of dust his boots create when his feet drags across the ground. My hand falls on my hip, and I nod for the tenth time when he asks if I am paying attention.

“You taught me all of this already, Geralt” I tiredly tell him, rolling my eyes at him.

“You need to master this first before you learn anything else” Is his monotonous response.

Perhaps he is right, but it is agonizing to endlessly repeat the same movement over and over. It might be the very reasoning behind his insistence, but my arms and legs have already memorized the motion, and tey are sore from how often they have moved in such a manner: one foot behind and the other alert at the front, both arms up, strongly wielding the sword in a defensive horizontal position. I am so eager to learn something new already.

“I am fed up with this” The thought that he might believe I am not prepared to move on bothers me. “I can defend myself!”

It is him who insists on teaching me, I'm not quite sure why. It may be his strange attempt to apologize for being so stubborn. In any case, I know enough after he showed me the basics.

“You’re defenseless if you don’t have your weapons” Striding over to me, he takes the sword from my hand and carelessly throws it to the ground.

“That’s not true” I reply in outrage. “I can still punch an asshole”

Jaskier laughs a little at something about how I said it. The witcher sighs, however.

“Show me then” He lifts his hands up in the air, squaring up to prepare. I resign myself.

I tighten my hand into a fist and thrust it against his palm as hard as I can. Geralt watches me, unimpressed, as I try again. I look at him helplessly, wondering what I did wrong. With a sigh, he positions himself behind me and fixes my stance. His arms reach me from behind and I rest against his broad chest. How had I not realized how muscular he truly is? I am embarrassed, as we had never been this close. It doesn’t seem to fluster Geralt, however, not even when he twists my hip to demonstrate how I must turn.

"Use your whole body to give power to your blow" He calmly instructs. "It will be more effective"

“Um…” Jaskier intervenes, now standing beside us. “Can I help?”

“You can barely keep yourself alive, Jaskier” Geralt carelessly waves him off. I giggle.

“Well, I never!” He tugs at my arm until I am dragged away from the witcher. “I can be useful in a fight! Just teach me”

“You can be my punching bag” I joke, gingerly pushing my fist against his shoulder.

“Not like that” Geralt falls into place behind me again and lays his arm over mine to get ahold of my wrist, correcting my form. “Or you’ll hurt yourself instead of them”

Jaskier purses his lips tightly, glaring at the witcher behind me. I pay no attention to his unexpected sulkiness and punch his shoulder again, this time in the way Geralt advised.

“Ow!” The bard complains, stepping back and clutching the spot. “Mother of-“

I giggle against my hand, and that remedies whatever has gotten into Jaskier. He chuckles a bit, although still rubbing his sore shoulder.

“There, now I know how to punch an asshole” I conclude, changing sides to stand by Jaskier. He complains at the insinuations of my sentence, but I cutely bat my eyelashes at him. “Do you think we could take a walk now, Jas? I truly need a break”

“You little devil” He replies, albeit with a fond grin. “Of course we can”

Knowing I have bribed Jaskier against him, Geralt hums and begrudgingly goes to sheath our weapons. I can barely contain my eagerness and happily clap in anticipation. These days have been so repetitive and dull… it was beginning to break my spirits.

Jaskier laughs as he circles my waist with his arm, shoving me against him.

“That’s cute, love, but save it for Geralt. You don’t have to convince me”

“I am not putting on an act” Falsely offended, I rest a hand on my chest. “Can’t I be genuinely excited to take a stroll with my two favorite men?”

“Two?” Jaskier tuts his tongue as he shakes his head. “You have to choose one”

“I couldn’t possibly do that” I smirk, gently pushing his arm off me. “Unless you gave me some solid reasons to sway my decision”

He lifts his eyebrows. When he opens his mouth, he is forced to save that thought.

“Hey” Geralt scolds us. When we cautiously glance at him, he only nods his head to the right. Following him obediently, Jaskier and I move to one side of him each. Even if we still lock gazes and giggle like children.

I would have never thought Geralt would be the one annoying me to death. Jaskier is behaving, lowly singing as he mindlessly walks by our side. His voice is as sweet and melodic as ever. He also seems quite into the song as he is finally making some progress. On the other hand, here’s Geralt asking me question after question to ensure I remember everything he taught me about how to fight. I have never heard him talk so much, and I suspect he might be doing it only to wind me up.

“No offence, Geralt” I cut him off, finally fed up with his patronizing tone, as much as he is only trying to ensure I don’t ever get hurt again. “But you’re ruining my idyllic moment”

Jaskier laughs out loud at my observation, yet it is true. The meadow we are on is indeed quite beautiful. Beams of sunlight reach us from above, filtering between the tall tree trops. The grass carries a strong yet pleasant scent. Tiny daisies of white petals peek amongst the vibrant green. I am tempted to pick some of the flowers out and ask Jaskier if he knows how to make a flower crown. For me or him, I don’t mind. Perhaps even for Geralt, it would be certainly a sight worth seeing: a witcher with a flower crown… surely, a scowling witcher in that case.

This is the very same meadow we found an injured Geralt in, though I make a conscious effort to substitute that memory with this current one of wandering around with them, listening to Jaskier beautifully singing and knowing that, even if obnoxiously, Geralt is looking after me.

Just when I managed to silence Geralt, my delightful moment is suddenly interrupted by the bard’s cautious voice.

“Who… who’s that?” He stares somewhere over my shoulder, so I turn around following his gaze. A woman is standing there, looking at us. An odd feeling creeps up to the pit of my stomach. I can’t see her face because she has covered her head with the hood of her maroon cape but… her eyes… brown, kind and warm… they look familiar…

I frown, though the gesture soon softens. That woman stares at us, and I hear Jaskier behind me muttering things to Geralt. I don’t distinguish his words, I’m far too focused on her. It can’t be…

“H-Hana?” My voice gets caught in my throat, shaking as much as my hands suddenly are.

“Nissa?” When she speaks, I get all confirmation I need. Her voice. It’s Hana’s voice…

My mind blanks. I freeze. My ears whistle. The sunlight dims. I cannot believe it…

“Isn’t that your friend?” Jaskier fidgets behind me. “Y-Yeah, from the tavern, I saw you talking that day, before…”

Before that dreadful day. The day she died. The day I lost her. Yet… he is right, Hana is standing there. Before us. Alive. She’s actually there. She… Oh, God… A wave of nausea hits me. The world seems to spin around me. Two arms get ahold of me, making me realize I am swaying. Not only swaying, I am falling. I’m… I’m…

“Nissa!!” My friends call me before I sink into that welcoming darkness.

Tag list: @x-joie-x / @x-jodi-x / @dancingwith-thesunflowers / @golden-guide / @alwayshave-faith / @this-is-whump-dammit / @legallyblindgamer727 / @lilyevans1 / @kingniazx / @molethemollie / @a-somehow-functioning-dumbass // Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list to be notified when I post next chapter!!

#please reblog!!#jaskier x oc #jaskier x reader #soul of a warrior #soaw #witcher #witcher fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #oc #original character

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pingou7 · 7 years

Photo

A car, two cops and a stardust — a RebelCaptain road trip fic

by @pingou7 pingou for @thestarbirdfromtheashes Starbird

(aka the Road trip fic Diego Luna’s filmography made me write)

Read and enjoy, and please consider leaving me a few words.

Summary:

As the dusty roads criss under Kes Dameron’s old car, Cassian Andor lets the wind mess with his hair through the open window. Dust, sunshine, laughter, its easy to recapture the taste of days long gone.

(…)

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat:

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

UPDATE: Part 3 is up!

Note: I thank @ruby-red-inky-blue for letting me burrow the name of Cassian’s little brother from her story The World Through A Scope! Danke mein Freund.

Read on AO3 (or under the cut)

Part 3 — From Arizona to Gina’s House, San Diego, CA. Day 2

She’s whimpering incoherently, calling out to her Papa, raging about some Saw and Cassian nudges her awake before switching gears. Kes groans on the back seat, rubbing his eyes, but he holds his tongue, while, disoriented, she tries to control her breathing and toys with her necklace.

“Jyn, you’re okay?”

She nods and asks where they are — Arizona, they’re nearing Tacna, it’s close to 9AM — they’ll soon stop for breakfast. It’s Cassian’s treat, so no drive-thru this time, she could have something close to an English breakfast if she feels like it. She seems surprised by the offer, but she soon declares that’s she’s always up for a cuppa of oolong and scrambled eggs with sausage. Confirming his hypothesis about her being British, he figures that’s about as much comfort as he’s allowed to give her. Thankfully, it was the right thing to do since her shoulders aren’t so tense anymore, and she exhales.

That’s how the trio finds itself at the Ligurta Station Restaurant, in Wellton, which is precisely crowded because renowned for its breakfasts. It’s the reason why usually Cassian and the Damerons prefer to refuel before that, in Tacna. But the cops keep this to themselves as they dig in their own plates. There Kes calls home and chats a bit with a downhearted Poe — he’s sick, while Papa and Uncle Cass have fun without him… — and overall it’s nice to have good food, great company for all it’s unexpected, and to be relatively close to San Diego.

“I don’t know about you, guys, but I need the restroom.”

“Do you need us to accompany you?” Kes asks, seeing her scanning the crowd intently.

“Why, you don’t trust me to return to you?”

“Trust goes both ways,” Cassian retorts and she blinks at him.

“I’d be a fool to ditch you now, you’re the best cover I have, I’m just gonna pee.”

When she comes back and they’re ready to drive the last portion, perhaps out of defiance, she cheekily passes each arm under theirs as they exit, making Kes chuckle. Cassian remains stone-faced, but pulls himself a bit closer to her than strictly necessary, and all three walk to the car.

Eventually, after the third rotation and last three hours of driving, they arrive at lunch time in front of the house of Gina Consuelo Alvarez Cuarón. Jyn is not the only one letting out a relieved sigh, for hers was not the only countdown, though the guys — amongst endless chatter — have not evoked it, least they bring misfortune. Charolastras are superstitious creatures, perhaps, but the frailty of the happy woman welcoming them confirms they were right to hurry up.

Cassian and Jyn stand together as Kes greets the effusive lady and explains why neither Shara nor Poe are here, but things get awkward when he tries to introduce the unknown woman they came with.

“Is she your sweetheart, Cariño?” Gina asks Cassian with a serene smile.

“I’m not,” Jyn answers readily, “my name is Jyn and Cassian is… we’re friends.”

“He’s her white Knight,” Kes supplies with a shit eating grin his brother can certainly punch it right off his face.

But weirdly this explanation seems to placate the old woman — like Cassian is used to be chivalrous to every damsel that appears on the back seat of car… — and after patting his hand benevolently, she gives them their space with no further comment.

Jyn asks for the phone, of course, presumably to update her people, and both brothers turn a blind eye as they entertain their host the best they can. The woman they consider like an aunt seems mortified by the fact she did not cook them anything. They downplay it, as she is the one they went to see, not her recipes, but it’s clear that she’s worse than she’d let on, on the phone. As she asks about little Poe, Cassian sees the proud father setting his jaw remorsefully. Suddenly he’s very glad for driving as much as they did since they’ve left Corpus Christi, and not just for Jyn’s sake.

Speaking of her, through defiantly raised, her chin quivers just a little bit after her phone call. She’s quick to cover it, of course, saying a few banalities to Gina who all but beams at her, but he caught that, and Kes sent her a worried glance too. He beckons her over, and she sits besides Cassian, and while their fingers brush under the table for a few seconds, her palm is sweaty.

If only they knew what hails her, who are the people she’s hiding from, and why… the scraps of information they’ve gathered so far aren’t enough to draw any conclusions from. All through the frugal dinner, he can’t help but feel frustrated, about Jyn’s muteness, about Gina’s bad health, about Kes’ forced gaiety. He wishes Shara or even Kay were here, almost childishly, but there’s just an old woman, two cops and a fugitive.

Cassian lends the room that is supposedly his when he stays over to Jyn, and obviously has to bunk in with Kes, something they haven’t had to do — outside of work and service — since they were nineteen or so. It’s obvious neither are looking forward to that aspect of recapturing the good old days. Despite having the speaker on, Cassian feels like a third wheel as soon as Kes calls his wife:

“Hello Babe, we’ve just arrived at Gina’s, how are you both?”

“We’re fine, it’s nice to have our little man all to myself. Things went okay for you on the road?”

“Yep, don’t worry, everything’s fine, only we somewhat picked up a stray.”

Cassian mouths “whipped” to him, despite knowing Kes couldn’t have kept Jyn’s presence to himself if he valued his manhood, but his next answer made him throw is pillow at the married man anyway.

“Another dog? BB8 may be cute as hell, but the pup’s enough already.”

“No, it’s not a dog. From the looks of it, green eyes, claws, defensive attitude, it’s a wayward cat. Cassian have taken quite a fancy to her I’d say.”

“Screw you Dameron!”

The traitor is laughing so much Shara senses her husband is most likely bullshitting again and she groans:

“Guys, I told you I don’t want to play the referee between you. I’ll leave that to Kay when you’re at the precinct. Just, Cass, promise me you won’t get too scratched by this wayward cat, whoever she is.”

Now Cassian is internally cringing — of course Shara Bey-Dameron would have picked the analogy right away… — but he still agrees because these two busy-bodies and their son are the only family he has left. They may be overbearing, but he’s glad to have them looking out for him. Wanting to give them privacy, he leaves the room, regretting the fact that he’s not smoking anymore, for it would have given him something to do.

Jyn stays just on the other side of the door to their adjoining rooms. He ponders about knocking and seeing what she was up to, but then decides against it, because it would be too stalker-ish. The urges he is feeling since she appeared in the car just yesterday afternoon confuse the hell out of him and there’s no need to add substance to Kes’ suspicion of a crush, but she swings the door open anyway.

She wears a bathrobe that covers the essential and she’s so petite it dwarfs her a little. She seems surprised to see him in the corridor and it’s obvious, from the way she’s (un)clothed to the towel she holds under her arm, that she plans to take a shower in the bathroom that is two doors down.

“Oh, Cassian.”

“Hi, Jyn. Kes is on the phone, so I… wanted to give them privacy.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she replies, showing him the towel with her chin. “So, do you want to hang out a moment?”

“Really?”

He is surprised that she didn’t hesitate to offer, considering the amount of time they’ve spent together in a cramped space already. Her fingers come to touch his wrist as a welcoming gesture. Her nails are cropped short, so definitely no scratches on the horizon, then, Cassian muses, having a hard time repressing his smile. Jyn musts sense something because immediately as he enters, she says, a warning in her tone:

“It’s the least I can do, you would have this room for yourself if not for me, but I’m sure your brother is gonna barge in here soon anyway. He doesn’t like me very much.”

He doesn’t know how she got that impression. Kes didn’t sound too annoyed with Shara on the phone, then again after the cat comment, Cassian didn’t feel like sticking around. Maybe he would not have liked what his mocking brother has to say about Jyn — or about him, for that matter. Still, out of fairness, he replies:

“Kes likes everyone as a rule, you haven’t done anything to earn his distrust so far. I’m the circumspect one.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t seem cold to me,” she says, surely referring to the uncharacteristic way he came to her rescue.

“Not to you, no,” he responds huskily, taking a step towards her.

“I’m glad.”

These words make him happy, for some reason and as she goes to wash, he is almost smiling again.

The room hasn’t changed since the first time he’d been there. He can’t help but snoop around a little, and to his delight she had left her clothes within reach.

In her vest he finds an handful of cash, not enough to pay a plane ticket or anything, a prepaid phone with a broken screen… and in an inner pocket, some ID: Passports, green cards… there are several of them, actually, all with her photo but different names. His blood turns cold and finding two more worrisome items, he replaces all his discoveries and tries to focus on something else for now, it’d be better once his brain had processed all this evidence, calmly.

In a corner of the nice but outdated room, his preteen self is stiffly standing besides Dameron — if his hair had been way too long, Kes on the other hand, sported a shorter haircut, heavily spiked with hair gel. They were fourteen, or perhaps fifteen for Kes, still wearing black from head to toes, because they bore the full mourning of Gina’s sister, Dolores. Cassian spoke English already, while his brother had not bothered until then. They look like babies but Cassian felt world weary already and it shows, because behind him, Jyn suddenly says:

“Even I would recognize you at once, with him grinning and you frowning.”

“Christ! How can you sneak up like that?!”

“You were distracted, obviously.”

Yes, he was, but still, he’s not easily taken by surprise and it takes some skills — perhaps of the professional kind? — to manage this for the second time in a row. He notes this in the corner of his mind as he considers the granny-like nightgown she wears — it goes to her ankles — and her hair, longer than he’d thought.

“I’m so tired,” she says, flopping back onto the bed, “and I’m not even the one driving.”

“Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s in a rush. We’ll take our time once we leave San Diego. But Gina was expecting us, so we quickened the pace.”

“She seems like a nice lady. She offered me some of her granddaughter’s clothes for tomorrow, but I am fine with the clothes I got on my back. I’m not often in girlie clothing anyway… but she’s very kind.”

“Yes, she is really sweet. But she’s also old and a little sick, so…”

He leaves the rest hanging up in the air, but she understands and seeing him still standing, taps the bed next to her. He comes over and sits next to her, on the mattress, his back against the wall and his legs spread in front of him.

“So, she’s your aunt?”

“The same way Kes is my bro. She pulled us out of the gutter after her sister died, in Mexico. She didn’t have to, did it anyway. Her husband, Alfonso, he was Spanish. Brought us there a summer, in Pamplona, when we were barely twenty, and Kes met Shara.”

“Pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, I’m not one for romance, but these two are made for each other.”

Both stare at the ceiling but it’s not so bad. For all his qualities, his brother has never truly known the value of silence, of just staying besides someone and sharing the same air, for the beauty of it. He hears her breathing next to him and the sound lulls him a bit. He can’t hear anything else, but he has spent so much time in the car that the vibration of the motor is still present in his body, he feels it like a tidal wave. My, he’s getting older.

“You can sleep with me,“ she eventually whispers as he gapes at her. "Seriously Cassian, if I wanted to do the nasty, you think I’d use that line?”

“Kes would have, he probably did at some point, in fact. But I get what you mean. Thanks for the offer, but I really should get back to him. From what I recall, he likes to grab all the covers.”

“I don’t,” she replies as he sits up, preparing to go, “listen, the truth is… I could use some company.”

He reads in her eyes that she’s afraid of finding herself alone, in a strange place, far away from her brother and with people still on her heels for a reason she has not given yet. He has a really bad feeling about this, but he complies because it probably cost her to admit as much. He feels a rush that he really shouldn’t when smiles at him, a real blinding smile that shows teeth, and if he ever had some doubts before, he can’t deny he’s a total goner.

“Goodnight Cassian.”

“Sleep well, Jyn, tomorrow is another day.”

He feels stupid for telling such platitude, for a second. Only… it was what his parents used to say to him, he realizes, suddenly petrified on the mattress, while she rolls on her side. He doesn’t know what it means, but he’s sure it’s no coincidence: he’s worked too hard to suppress any unwanted reminder of his life before first grade.

There was a time when he knew Kes (his parents and the Damerons had been friends before they were even born) but he wasn’t his brother yet. He had another, a toddler who had learned to walk while gripping his legs, who had been all curls and smiles, a cherub, called back to heaven far too soon. Lord, I command you the soul of my brother Marco, so that he may be safe in your embrace, until the end of all days, Amen.

She must have sensed him crossing himself, or maybe he let out a sound, because Jyn comes unbearably closer and the clean scent of soap fills his nostrils and locks unwanted recollections — and reflexes — in the depths of his memory. He tries to put his hands somewhere, since usually he’s a pillow hugger, but he doesn’t know where to put them without touching hers. He pulls back hastily, force himself to sleep on his back. He’s counting her evening breaths until her fingers touch his, just barely, then he drifts away.

#rebelcaptain #fanfiction #cassian andor #jyn erso #kes dameron #roadtrip #modern au #pingou writes

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akfanfiction-blog · 7 years

Text

The Party

Main Pairing(s): Kellic

Sub Pairing(s): Ryden, Cashby, and Andley

AU: High School Party

Warning(s): Smut, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Alcohol

Rating: M

Words: 2833

“Kells I have detention.” I groaned.

“How’d you manage that? You’re practically the teacher’s pet.” Kellin said without thinking. I shot him a warning look.

“I was late to the same class five times. Apparently getting detentions for five lates is a new thing they put in the rulebook.” I sighed in annoyance.

“I thought that was always in the rulebook. I get detentions just by being late once.”

“That’s not because you’re late Kells it’s because you blatantly refuse to do what the teachers say.” I deadpanned.

“They can’t control me.” Kellin shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “Anyway when do you have detention?” He asked.

“I have it today after school with Mr. Way the drama class teacher.” I said, not looking forward to it at all.

“Well it is Mr. Way. He’ll find a way to make it interesting.” Kellin’s face then turned into a mischevious smile.

“Whatever it is you’re going to ask, the answer is no.” I said.

“Aww come on you didn’t even hear me out yet.” Kellin whined playfully.

“No, you’re gonna ask me to skip detention so we can spend more time together. I’m not getting into more trouble.”

“You know me too well.” Kellin grumbled. “But still we don’t get to hang out anymore, you’re always at home doing homework or at school in the early hours of the morning doing class president stuff. The only time I’m busy is on Wednesdays to practice cross country and Fridays at games.”

“Which I’m proud of you for finding something to do after school.” I said. “But Kellin this is already damaging my reputation, I can’t skip detention.” I sighed.

“There’s a party this weekend at Oliver’s house. We can go to that, right?” Kellin asked full of hope.

“Maybe.” I decided.

Kellin cheered and hugged me. “I love you babe!” He giggled. He’s such a girl sometimes, whether it’s his giggling or his feminine features.

“Alright Kells we have class, we gotta go now.” I said, frowning because I didn’t want to leave him.

“But I don’t wanna.” He whined, drawing out the ‘a’ in wanna.

“You’ll see me at lunch.” I smiled.

He stopped whining and perked up at that, kissing me and then running to his first period class.

—–

It was now Saturday and saying that I was nervous was an understatement.

My phone rang and I jumped in my seat then reached over to my phone and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Babe I’m at your front door, the party starts in an hour.”

I sighed, getting up and picking out proper clothes. After school yesterday I was too tired to change so I ended up sleeping in my school uniform.

“Babe? I’m coming in your house.”

“Kellin-” but there was already a knock on my bedroom door.

“Come in Kellin.” I sighed.

Kellin opened my door and said, “Babe are you rea- why are you wearing your uniform?” He gave me an odd look.

“I feel asleep as soon as I got home yesterday and didn’t bother changing all day today.” I explained.

“Oh, well get dressed in something better. Our school uniform is hideous.” He scrunched his face up in disgust.

“Kells your gay is showing.” I laughed.

Then Kellin made a ridiculously stereotypical gay pose and talking in a valley girl accent. “I’m not gay I’m fabulous.” Kellin spoke.

I rolled my eyes laughing and picked out some ripped black skinny jeans, converse, and a blink-182 shirt and began to take my uniform off.

Kellin whistled at me as I took off my jacket and unbuttoned my shirt and I rolled my eyes again, continuing to take off my clothes.

“Ooh that ass.” Kellin whistled. I threw my jacket and shirt at his face and he just laughed at me and I took the rest of my uniform off.

Kellin walked up to me just as I was picking my skinny jeans off of the ground and spanked me hard.

“Kellin!” I squeaked in surprise. He just laughed and walked back to my door and leaned against it, continuing to be a creep and watch me get dressed.

I slipped on my clothing and my converse and put on some light eyeliner and grabbed my green flannel then we left to Oliver’s party.

—–

“Kellin! Vic! Glad you guys could make it.” Oliver patted us both on the back harshly and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I resisted the urge to gag.

I just nodded my head and Kellin spoke, “Duh, wouldn’t miss your parties for the world man!” He high fived Oliver and you could practically hear the slap over the loud music.

Oliver showed us where everything was and then walked off with his group of friends to probably get even more wasted than he already was.

I looked around, seeing some friends from school when I spotted the vice president from school and my jaw dropped, seeing as he was on the a coffee table wearing nothing but his boxers.

“Hey what are you looking at? Oh shit is that Alan?” Kellin started laughing his ass off.

I ran over to Alan and shouted at him over the music. He got off the table, grabbing a drink from Austin, his boyfriend I believe, and said, “Hey Vic! Great party, huh?” His words were slurred together. Yep, definitely drunk.

“Alan I think you need to slow down. Go get some water.” I suggested. Alan was a wild drunk. He spouted random shit when he was wasted. One time he even told us about one of his weird fantasies. And you may think it was one of those innocently weird fantasies, but no, Alan’s fantasy consisted of cats, Austin, and nutella. I shuddered just thinking about it.

“Nahh brah! I’m having so much fun right now! Austin baby!” I face palmed. Alan you need help.

Kellin ran over to me, seemingly out of breath and said, “Where the hell did you go? I lost you in the crowd.”

“I was talking to Alan. He’s wasted.” I sighed. Why am I always the adult figure here? Everyone here acts like a god damn child.

“Babe I think you need a drink. Loosen up a bit.” He suggested.

I looked at Kellin with wide eyes and shook my head furiously. “No that won’t be necessary Kellin. I’m fine.”

“Come on. Just one is all I’m asking.” He begged. I sighed. One drink can’t be that bad..

—–

How many drinks have I had? Twenty? I’m not sure, I lost count after ten. Right now I was currently dancing on top of the same table Alan was dancing on because of a dare Austin gave me. Everyone was laughing and I was too. I got off the table and sat back down next to Kellin.

“Alright my turn. Alan truth or dare?”

Alan tensed up, he was sitting in Austin’s lap. I guess he wasn’t expecting me to pick him.

“T-Truth.” He stuttered with a blush. That’s cute.

Some of the others snickered because Alan chose truth and not dare but I don’t blame him, a lot of us got some really weird or sexual dares. Brendon got dared to lick nutella off of Ryan’s nipple, Ashley got dared to hump a wall, Ronnie got dared to moon the whole group, and CC was dared to stick his dick out the window at people passing by outside. Thankfully they didn’t call the cops and just laughed or took pictures.

“What are your kinks?” I asked, thinking he’ll just say something strange about cats.

“W-well.. Um.. I like whips and chains, blindfolds and um..” He paused, as if wondering whether or not he should say the last one, while everyone but Austin is sitting there with their jaws dropped and Austin just had a cocky smirk on his face.

Austin leaned over and whispered something into Alan’s ear and Alan blushed and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Out with it babe.” Austin encouraged, still smirking.

Alan mumbled something which I guess was the other kink he wanted to say but none of us heard it.

“Alan speak up.” I said.

“I said I also like spanking and daddy dom/little boy.” Alan was blushing as red as a tomato right now and I was just sitting there in shock. That was unexpected.

A loud cough was heard all throughout the group and everyone looked to see who it is that made the cough.

“I think we should play a different game.” It was Oliver.

“What game?” Brendon asked curiously.

“Seven minutes in heaven.” He grinned.

—–

About an hour after everyone played seven minutes in heaven, the party died down by a lot and people were leaving. I went to say bye to Oliver because I wanted to go home and not end up staying the night here, knowing the guys like to play pranks on each other when Kellin grabbed my wrist and led me upstairs.

“Kellin?” He didn’t say anything, he just kept pulling me by the wrist to the top of the stairwell and went to the back of the hallway and opened a door.

As soon as he closed the door behind us, Kellin crushed his lips against mine and started rolling his hips into mine. Holy shit, are we doing this now?

I tried pushing Kellin off of me to see what’s gotten into him but he wouldn’t budge. I mentally sighed and figured why the fuck not and kissed him back, rolling my hips into his.

Kellin made a barely audible moan against my lips but I still heard it. He broke the kiss and moved down to kiss my neck, kissing my jaw on the way. I was panting heavily and was honestly a bit curious as to what’s gotten into Kellin.

“Kells, what’s gotten into you?” I asked, still panting heavily.

He didn’t answer, instead he bit down on my sweet spot and sucked on it, causing me to moan softly.

“Less talking, more moaning.” He smirked up at me as he took my shirt off and kissed down my chest.

I let him do as he pleased as he got down to my jeans and began to push the button through the hole and unzipped them. Wow we’re seriously doing this.

He pulled my jeans and boxers off in one go, taking off my socks and shoes as well and took my dick straight into his mouth.

“Oh shit..” I groaned, running my fingers through his hair and Kellin bobbed his head up and down on my cock.

He ran his tongue up and down my shaft, dipping his tongue in my slit whenever he would come back up to my tip. It was when he hollowed he cheeks out from sucking so hard that I had to pull on his hair for him to come back up.

“K-Kells that’s enough..” I stuttered but he wouldn’t stop.

“K-Kellin I wanna f-fuck you.” I kept pulling on his hair but he wouldn’t budge. Soon my pleas for him to stop turned into pleas for him to keep going.

“Oh fuck Kells don’t stop.” I moaned. I was so, so close.

To my disappointment, Kellin stopped and came back up, smirking evilly.

“You’re so gonna get it.” I growled and pushed him onto the bed in the middle of the room. I started tearing off his clothes one by one until he was down to his boxers.

At this point Kellin was panting, looking down at me with lust in his eyes. “Turn over.” I ordered and he willingly complied. “Ass up.” He lifted his hips in the air as I stood.

I pulled his boxers off of him and threw them with the rest of his clothes on the floor, shoes and socks included.

I drew my hand back and spanked him hard. He jolted forward with a loud, surprised cry. I spanked him two more times and he was breathing heavier.

I walked into the mini bathroom that was attached to the room and rumaged through the cabinets until I found lotion. This’ll have to do.

I walked back into the room Kellin was in, he still had his ass in the air and he was breathing heavily. The sight was hot as hell and I had to stop myself from fucking him without preparation and lube.

I bit my lip and walked over to Kellin, pouring some of the lotion onto my fingers and prodded at Kellin’s entrance.

Kellin let out a whine and pushed back onto my finger and I pushed it in, slowly pushing it in and out.

Kellin moaned and was surprising myself with how much self control I was having right now. I added another finger and that just made Kellin moan louder.

I made a scissor-like motion with my fingers, stretching him out as much as I could before adding a third and final finger. At this point Kellin was pushing himself against my finger and moaning like a needy little slut. Oh god I need him now. I pulled my fingers out and Kellin whined.

“Oh just you wait.” I growled in his ear and I lubed myself up with the lotion. I slowly pushed in, groaning at the feeling.

“Mmh..” Kellin moaned, tightly clutching at the sheets.

I began thrusting at a slow pace, making sure not to hurt Kellin, even though I’m sure he’d enjoy considering he likes it rough. I pulled his hair back so that his back was to my chest.

“Yeah you like that?” I growled huskily into his ear. He just moaned in reply, thrusting his hips back onto mine.

“Yes! Oh fuck.. Vic..!” He moaned and I growled at his words. He so fucking sexy..

“More! Oh fuck! Please more!” He begged. I love it when he begs.

I thrusted faster into him, our skin making loud slapping sounds every time I’d thrust back into him.

“Yes! Oh shit!” He moaned.

I scratched down his back, leaving faint pink marks behind and he absolutely loved it.

I flipped us over so he was on top and he began to wildly bounce on top of me.

“Fuck..” I whispered. He began to grind onto me, practically massaging my dick inside of him.

I threw my head back against the bed, squeezing my eyes shut in pleasure.

“Oh god Kells more..” I pleaded. He gyrated his hips and that’s when I felt the familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Shit Kells I’m close.” I warned. He moaned in reply, telling me he was too.

I took ahold of Kellin and stroked him quickly, desperate to get him off. He moaned loudly and threw his head back.

“Oh fuck I’m cumming.. I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” He shouted as he unloaded all over my lower abdomen and a little on himself.

The squeezing aroundy dick set me off and I came inside of him, groaning loudly.

After a minute of heavy breathing, he picked himself up and layed down next to me.

“Wanna head home?” I asked.

He nodded and we picked up our clothes and put them on after cleaning ourselves up.

We walked out to Kellin’s car and I got in the driver’s seat, seeing as Kellin probably shouldn’t drive when his you-know-what hurts.

We drove off to my place in comfortable silence. I looked over at Kellin to see he was asleep and I mentally awed at him. He’s so cute when he’s sleeping. He looked like an angel.

When we finally arrived at my place, I got out of the car and picked up Kellin, careful not to wake him cause he was still sleeping, and kicked my door cause I couldn’t knock.

“Coming!” Mike called from the other side. He opened the door and looked at me in confusion and then saw Kellin and a look of realization crossed his face and he stepped to the side to let me in.

I carried him up to my room and lightly set him down on my bed as I quickly changed into a muscle tank, sweatpants and a new pair of boxers.

I gently shook Kellin awake and he groaned, mumbling a ‘five more minutes’ and turned over.

“Babe you need to get changed and then we can cuddle.” That woke him up.

He got up sleepily and began taking his clothes off. I helped him because he was struggling with doing so and grabbed one of my shirts that was too big on him and let him borrow a pair of my boxers and a pair of my sweatpants.

I helped him put those on and he slumped back onto my bed and I laid down next to him, pulling the covers over us and he cuddled into my chest.

“Vic?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Kells.” I smiled and kissed his forehead as we both drifted off.

REQUESTS ARE NOW OPEN AS OF NOVEMBER 27TH 2016

#Kellic #Kellin Quinn #Vic Fuentes #Fanfic #Fanfiction #AU #Smut #Fluff #Sleeping With Sirens #Pierce The Veil #High School Party

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