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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years

Text

Mistakes

Word Count: 1,713

Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Reader, OC Characters

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, Derek being an asshole, TW: drugs, overdose, death

A/N: this will have mulitple parts, either 2 or 3, so nothing too long lol

Masterlist

“I don’t care! Keep looking!” Derek paced around the loft, while Stiles and Scott sat on the couch, bounding their legs nervously. Allison, Lydia, and Isaac were out with Argent, all looking for you.

“People don’t just disappear,” Stiles shook his head.

“Yeah, no shit,” Derek replied.

“Okay, just think. What did she do all day? Did she go anywhere o-or something? Has anyone seen her all day?” Scott asked.

“She was with you guys last. Her phone’s right here,” Derek held up your phone, before exhaling harshly.

“Maybe it’s time to tell your dad, Stiles. He can help us,” Scott suggested.

“Maybe I should, yeah,” Stiles got out his phone, before hearing the loft doors open.

The three of them froze, looking at the door cautiously as you stood in front of them.

“What’s going on?” you frowned slightly.

“What’s going… What’s going on!?! Everyone has been looking for you for the whole day! Where the hell were you?” Derek yelled at you.

“I was on a hunt, I-I forgot my phone, I meant to text you-” you started.

“Stiles, Scott, get out. Now,” Derek clenched his jaw as he kept his glare on you.

The two boys nervously stumbled out of the loft, not wanting to leave you alone with Derek.

“Did you not think it was important to let someone know where you were?’ his voice was calm, but the anger was still evident in his face.

You hated when he would act like this. Ignore you for 40 percent of the time, yell at you for 60. You had grown tired of it.

“I forgot,” your voice was low.

“We wasted the entire day looking for you,” he crossed his arms.

“And I never told you to look for me. If you’re just gonna get mad at me, then I’d like to go now,” you replied.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be in the pack. You’re less important than Stiles,” you always felt hurt by his words, yet never showed any emotions.

“Yeah, I’m unbelievably useless, as you keep reminding me,” you sighed.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just…” you cut him off, before running your fingers through your hair.

“Why I can’t just listen? Why I can’t just stop being useless? I’m a fucking mistake and you keep reminding me every single second you get. Don’t you think I know by now? If I could change, I would. You refuse to give me the bite and so does Scott. I’d leave Beacon Hills if I could, leave instead of forcing you all to live with the burden of knowing me,” you were already exhausted from your day, and Derek pushing your buttons didn’t help one bit.

“I never said that,” he started.

“You don’t have to. I see the way you look at me, I see the way you all look at me. I have nothing more to say to you, Derek, so if you don’t mind, I’m going home,” he stayed silent while you walked out of the loft. You felt a tear fall down your face before wiping it away, heading back home.

---

“Mom, I’m home,” you placed your bags aside as you pulled off your jacket.

You walked up the stairs, kissing your younger brother’s forehead.

“How’s Mom?” you asked him.

“She said she was feeling better but I don’t believe her,” he replied.

“Thanks for being a strong kid and looking after her while I was gone,” you gave him a small smile before patting his back.

“Go eat your dinner, I’m gonna go check up on Mom,” you said, before making your way up to her room.

“Mom?” she was sitting up in her bed, holding a cigarette in her hand.

“Mom! You can’t have those!” you yanked it out of her hand, throwing it aside.

“Why not? I feel fine,” you could see dark bags under her eyes, while her skin was visibly paler than earlier that day.

“Did you take something?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” she shook her head.

“I’m talking about drugs, Mom! Did you take any drugs?!” you yelled.

“That’s none of your business,” she crossed her arms.

“Except it is. Do you not remember what happened last week?” you scoffed.

“Last week was a mistake, it’s different now,” you shook your head, remembering her near overdose.

“No, it’s not. You need to get clean, Mom. For yourself, for Sam. Are you forgetting who found your body in the bathroom?” you ran your fingers through your hair as you sighed, thinking of your brother

“Sam should have left with his father,” your mom scoffed.

You felt chills go down your spine, at the mention of your dad.

“Well, Dad’s gone, and he’s an asshole. Mom, please. I need you to start taking care of yourself. I already dropped out of college and I can barely keep us afloat,” you begged her.

“You only started college a month ago,” your mom frowned.

“Yeah, I know. But our family is more important. When we’re stable, I’ll start college again. But in order to do that, you need to promise me, no more drugs,” you said.

Your mom nodded her head before you wrapped your arms around her. You could hear her snoring within a few minutes while you chuckled softly, slowly putting her back in bed before flipping off her lights.

You frowned, feeling your neck and arm bugging you from the hunt, before you rubbed your eyes, yawning.

“(Y/N/N)... I need some help with my homework,” you heard your brother’s voice as you held in a groan.

“Sure, kiddo, Come on,” you led him to your room, before closing the door, making sure not to awake your mother.

---

“Scott, you’re joking,” you exclaimed.

“We called partners like 20 minutes ago! You weren’t here and no one picked Derek,” Scott groaned.

“Yeah, and for good reason. I don’t understand why I can’t be by myself,” you shook your head.

“Because it’s dangerous,” Scott said.

“It’s a vampire!” you exclaimed.

“Exactly!” Scott replied.

You squeezed your fists before exhaling sharply.

“Fine, where’s the douche-bag?” you sighed before Derek walked to you, rolling his eyes.

“Well, let’s go then.”

---

You rolled your eyes, visibly bored as you and Derek sat in silence. The two of you sat in the car, waiting for any suspicious activity while you watched people walk in and out of the restaurant.

You turned on the radio, before Derek pushed your hand away, turning it off. You glared at him, before taking out your phone.

“Get off your phone,” he said.

“I’m bored,” you replied.

“And we’re on a stakeout mission. Get off your phone,” he said.

You turned it off, before hearing it ring. He glared at you, while you gave him a look, checking your texts.

You felt your chest aching as unbuckled your seatbelt.

“I have to go,” you said quickly.

“What? Why? (Y/N), you can’t leave me-” he started.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go,” you could feel tears rushing from your eyes as you pushed out of the car before he grabbed your wrist.

You pulled away from him, running off into the night.

---

Your brother sat in a chair at the hospital, bouncing his leg nervously.

“Sam,” his head shot up as you called his name.

He ran to your arms, burying his head into your chest.

“I-It wasn’t… It wasn’t an accident this time,” he cried out.

“What happened?” you bent down to his level, putting your hands on his shoulder.

“W-We were watching… We were watching a movie, a-and then she got up, a-and… she didn't come back,” your brother stumbled with his words, holding in his cries.

“Shh, it’s okay. It's okay,” you wrapped your arms around him tightly, before shutting your eyes tightly.

She was getting better, it has been a week since your conversation with her, and she was trying so hard.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you heard the doctor as he walked towards you.

“I’m so sorry…” their words drifted off as you bit your lip, tears rushing down your face as you held onto your brother tightly, holding in your cries as you shut your eyes tightly.

She was gone. She died.

---

You held onto your brother as the two of you made your way back to your house, biting back a sob.

“H-Here… I need you to… How about you go to y-your room?” you said.

He nodded before walking upstairs. Your body began to visibly shake, while you cried, holding in your sobs so he wouldn't hear you.

You leaned against the table, breathing shakily as more and more tears escaped from your eyes.

You heard loud knocking, banging at the front door as you wiped your face, before opening it.

You were met with Derek’s angered face as he gripped your arms tightly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

“I-I,” you stuttered.

“No! Shut up! The vamp killed three people before I could do anything! Do you have any idea how big of a mistake you made?! Why did you leave?! What was so important that it couldn't wait till later?!” he yelled.

“I’m sorry,” you started.

“You little…What is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

You pushed him away from you, as you clenched your jaw. He only walked closer to you, before you swing your fist, punching him in the jaw, only angering him more.

His eyes glew red as he pushed you against the wall. You could see his claws coming out of his hand, digging into your arm.

“Derek…” your voice broke.

“(Y/N)?!” you heard Sam crying loudly, standing by the stairs.

Derek’s class retracted, his face softening.

“Who the hell is that?” Derek asked.

“Get the hell away from me! You want me out so bad?! You got your fucking wish! Leave!” you screamed at him.

You punched him back, kicking him out of your house before locking the door behind you.

You fell to the ground, sobs erupting from you while Sam ran to you, burying his head in your lap.

“I-It’s gonna be okay,” you cried softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf text #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf angst #Derek #derek hale #derek hale text #Derek Hale Angst #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #derek hale x you #derek hale x reader angst #derek hale x platonic!reader #scott mccall #scott mccall imagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine

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separatist-apologist · 3 years

Note

If you have the chance, would you be able to write something along the lines of Elain moving on from Graysen (the asshole) and deciding to give Lucien a chance?

Hi anon! I hope you don't mind but I made this a one-shot. It's on AO3, but I'll post it here as well.

1 year:

Elain sat in the window of Feyre’s home, staring down at the city stretched beneath her. She could see the people of Velaris moving about, smiling, talking, living. Some part of her was jealous, though not enough to prompt her into moving from the same spot she’d been in for weeks. Every time she stood, the memory of Graysen came crashing through the gates of her mind, demanding recognition. It would have been fine if all she thought about was that last, painful reunion but her mind replayed all their best moments. Over and over on a loop, Elain watched herself fall in love with Graysen like it was the first time. Every whispered compliment, every shared laugh, every promise, over and over until she could scarcely breathe.

Her skin felt too tight, unable to contain the breadth of emotion constantly roiling inside her. She barely slept and when she did, her brain convinced her she was still human, still his. Each time, she woke to the crushing realization he was really gone. She’d never hear his voice, see him smile, feel his touch. It was too much.

So she sat, waiting for the moment she could finally house the pain somewhere manageable. She knew she’d never love again and to that end, Elain only hoped to learn how to move around while she carried it. She thought if she could just force a smile and pretend, somehow everything would be alright.

She resented the strangers before, so blissfully unaware of her, of what was happening just above them. Look up! Her mind screamed. Look at me! But no one did. No one but him, without fail, every time. He was walking up to the house as she watched, a little package tucked beneath his arm. He tilted his head, the sun reflecting off his bright red hair, and their eyes met just like always. He held her gaze for a moment, as if to say hello, and Elain, like always, looked away.

Leave me alone.

He didn’t acknowledge her beyond those shared looks, didn’t speak to her, didn’t stand too close if he happened upon her. She wondered, at times, if he didn’t know how she felt. Perhaps he sensed she didn’t want to talk to him. Graysen’s replacement, she thought bitterly. Everyone was waiting for her to get over her engagement, to forget him and move on with him. She didn’t want another, didn’t want to try again, to start over.

She wanted Graysen. She wanted him so badly it made her teeth ache. Her stomach constantly bubbled with anxiety, her chest flooded with sadness. What good was life without him? Was Graysen missing her? Would he move on, love again? That thought terrified her to the point of distraction. She wanted to run away, to see him, to beg him to take her back. She crafted arguments in her mind, imagined scenarios in which he came to find her. She daydreamed of a way to become human again so she could have him back.

None of it made living alone any easier. So Elain stayed, curled in her window.

Waiting.

9 months:

Elain looked down at the pen in her hand with a sigh. Three months of letters, all unanswered. She wanted a chance to explain, to tell him what happened. To see him, if she was honest. She’d begged and pleaded and screamed all to no avail. Graysen didn’t respond, not even to tell her to leave him alone. His silence was a response, though it didn’t make things any easier. She set down her pen next to an untouched piece of paper and rose, resisting the urge to try again. She felt insane, constantly reaching out, constantly waiting. Nothing could fix what was broken, though it hardly made her feel better.

She’d stopped crying every night though the dreams persisted, and her appetite hadn’t altogether returned. Her sisters stopped watching her so carefully when she managed to plaster a smile on her face and pretend she was moving on. Was she? Was this what moving on felt like? She felt empty, numb. She was going through the motions, baking and gardening and reading but none of it gave her joy. She felt no sense of purpose.

At times she thought she could throw herself into the Sidra and it wouldn’t matter at all. She was wondering, again, if she ought to walk out to the bridge and see if this was the day she might hurl herself over the railing. How long would it take anyone to notice she’d left? A day? A week? Would they sigh with relief, no longer burdened by her presence?

She jammed the heel of her palm into the bread dough she worked. Perhaps they’d miss her cooking, but not her. No one looked at her long enough to see what was missing. No one really saw her at all. She could have been the paint on the walls, the—

“Elain?” A deep, male voice asked from the swinging door of the kitchen. Elain froze. She recognized that voice. His voice.

She looked over her shoulder wordlessly as he stepped inside, his black boots clicking softly on the tile beneath his feet. He seemed uncomfortable and out of place so finely dressed among her flour coated dress. Two steps were all he took, close enough to reach the black marble counter at the furthest end of the room. He set a small box atop it, his eyes fixed on her face. She didn’t move.

“Have a good day,” he murmured, offering her a slight bow before stepping back out. She breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her hands out of the dough to get the package he’d left. She wondered if he’d wrapped it, running her fingers over the shiny gold paper. Carefully, cringing when she accidentally ripped some of it, Elain opened the perfectly wrapped gift to find a hard covered book sitting inside. She opened it with trembling fingers.

Fairy tales, the kind she’d grown up with, complete with beautiful paintings done with vibrant oil. He’d left a silver foiled bookmark in front of one of the stories and Elain flipped to it, gasping softly. A brilliant picture of a sunlit sea and a story of mermaids awaited her and she wondered absently if he was trying to tell her that was his favorite. Elain closed the book reverently, hugging it to her chest.

It wasn’t until later that night, buried under a blanket with nothing but a candle for light, that Elain realized that book was the first thing that made her feel anything in months.

She wondered if he knew he’d kept her from trying to jump off a bridge that day.

She wondered if he knew how she felt at all.

6 months:

Ripping up weeds offered Elain a small amount of savage pleasure. Over and over, she imagined it was Graysen she pulled at, her mind angrily replaying the speech she wished she could scream at him. You act like I wanted this! She yelled silently at a particularly deep-rooted weed. You act as though I left you! She tossed the weed onto the pile she was collecting, tsking when she realized she’d broken another nail. Feyre would chide her for not using gloves, his gloves, but she liked the feeling of her hands in the dirt. She liked feeling the earth give way, bending to her will.

Retribution, she thought savagely, ripping another. You abandoned me! She imagined she’d scream. You promised forever and then left me to rot! She imagined how he’d blubber, what pathetic, cowardly excuses he might offer. Would he apologize? She wanted him to. She wanted him to get on his knees and beg her forgiveness so she could ruthlessly tell him no. She wanted him to feel every second of agony he’d put her through. It wasn’t fair he got to get on with his life, got to move on and be happy while she’d been left with the mess he’d made.

Truthfully, it was too cold to be out digging but Rhys’ magic kept that garden alive year-round, she suspected as a gift, and Elain wasn’t about to let it become overrun. It was something to do, a small thing that made her feel like she mattered. In the scheme of things, she didn’t matter. She laughed and smiled and everyone thought her all better. No one saw her, not that she expected them to.

It didn’t make things hurt any less. Elain sighed loudly, reaching for another weed when she heard the sound of boots crunching on the gravel. Something tightened in her stomach, that familiar cord humming softly as he approached. Elain kept her hands in the dirt, fisted tightly to prevent herself from getting up and yielding to the mating bond.

“Good afternoon,” he said, hidden from view by her curtain of hair. Her spine straightened ever-so-slightly at the rich timbre of his voice, washing over her like warm water. She wondered if he expected her to respond. She nodded her head instead, her thoughts drifting towards the book he’d left, dog eared, the spine cracked. She read it almost every night, despite having the entire thing memorized. He didn’t need to know that. How had he even known she was there?

“I recognized your handiwork on the way in,” he continued pleasantly. Handiwork? She thought. “Maybe one day you could show me how you manage to make the azaleas bloom so nicely, even in the cold.”

He’d recognized her gardening? That was impossible. Anyone could plant azaleas. She stiffened, swallowing hard when he crouched beside her, his impeccable boots pressed right up against her pile of weeds.

“From the continent,” he told her, setting an ivory pouch just beside her gardening tools. She looked up, finally parting her hair with her chin, but he’d already turned his back, revealing nothing but the broadness of his back hidden beneath a cerulean coat. Elain waited until she was sure he wasn’t watching to unearth her hands and pick up the bag.

Inside were tulip bulbs from the continent. She’d always wanted to see them, had heard they bloomed more beautifully there than anywhere else in the world. Her father had told her of valleys filled with nothing but tulips. Had he seen them? How had he known she wanted to?

She brought that little bag inside with her when she finished, tucking them carefully away in her sock drawer just beside the pearl earrings he’d given her for solstice. She’d hidden those so she wouldn’t have to see them but this…this should be protected, she thought. She wanted to plant them somewhere special, somewhere just for her.

“You look good today,” Cassian commented when Elain half skipped down the stairs for dinner. She paused, turning for a bathroom so she could look at her reflection. She was surprised to find Cassian was right. She looked…almost happy.

Someone had seen her.

3 months:

All she had to do was hand him the package from Rhysand. Simple, in and out, a hello and a goodbye and nothing more. Elain concentrated, having been dropped off by Mor on her way to do other business in the human lands. Mor assured Elain she could return to where they’d arrived and wait, that she didn’t have to remain with the humans…the band of exiles… if she didn’t want to. Elain didn’t. In fact, she wished Mor could do it all and she could have remained where she was.

She saw the manor, an estate really, made of polished gray stone that made it look like a thing of legend. A fortress that might repel the truly terrible, monsters and dragons and—

“Elain?” An all too familiar voice asked. Her heart sank to her feet and time seemed to stop as she turned to face Graysen. He was human…she was in the human lands…it hadn’t occurred to her that she might see him. She’d been too absorbed at the thought of seeing him.

Graysen looked exactly as she remembered. Thick, brown hair almost flopped into his soft, puppy eyes. Angular, strong face…toned body…Graysen.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, taking three steps towards her and Elain instinctively took one back. Hurt flashed over his features for just a moment before his eyes strayed towards her arched, pointed ears peeking through her hair.

She swallowed. “Am I not allowed to be here?” She replied, refusing to give him a straight answer. He’d forfeited his right to know about her life when he left all her letters unanswered. Graysen’s eyes shifted, looking towards the manor.

“You’re here to see him,” he said, disgust curling over his words. Elain merely shrugged, as if to say so? Why did he care, she wondered? Her fear began to settle, and Elain couldn’t deny that some little part of her still missed him.

“I would hate to keep the fine, Fae Lord waiting,” he sneered, his anger clearly not directed at her. Not completely, anyway. Did he miss her, she wondered?

I don’t care, a soft voice whispered in her mind. “So would I,” she agreed, offering Graysen a soft nod of her head. Everything she’d ever imagined saying to him, every angry accusation or begged plea slipped from her mind. Instead, Elain said, “It was nice seeing you.”

Graysen’s eyes warmed, not enough to convince Elain he still cared. “You, as well.”

Elain turned, then, readjusting Rhysand’s package, and finished walking to the manor. By the time she got to the door, her anxiety was back…and Graysen was forgotten. She blew out a soft breath, raised her fist, and knocked.

It was a servant who answered. Why was she suddenly so disappointed, she wondered?

“This is for—”

“Elain?” He asked, his body appearing in the hall behind. Elain sucked in air at the sight of him. She’d never seen him so casual before, in well-fitted, brown trousers and a billowing white shirt he’d half tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He held them up with black suspenders that matched the color of his boots and his hair, typically pulled off his face, hung loose.

“From Rhysand,” she said when the servant melted away, leaving just Lucien standing in the doorway. Her eyes drifted towards his forearms, corded with muscle. Why did she like that, she wondered absently.

“Ah. I was told you would be Mor,” he informed her with a frown. Her heart sank.

“Sorry,” she murmured, moving to step off the porch and back to her meeting place with Mor. Lucien surged forward, one hand outstretched as though he meant to grab her but thought better of it.

“I’m not,” he assured her. From behind him, Elain saw a pair of bright blue eyes half hidden beneath copper colored hair peer at the pair of them. A tall, surly man stood just above her, his face etched with disapproval. “Would you like to come inside?”

She opened her mouth, about to say yes, when she remembered who this was. Who he was.

“I uh…I’m supposed to meet Mor,” she replied instead. He nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

“Of course. Another time.”

And Elain, for reasons she’d never understand, said, “I would like that,” just as Lucien was about to shut the door. He froze, his expression unreadable.

“I’ll send word?” He asked hesitantly, as though he expected her to back out. Her heart pounded painfully, her tongue sticky in her mouth. She nodded, unable to speak and he smiled.

“Another time, then.”

Elain waited until the door clicked shut to exhale the air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She walked back to where Mor was waiting, her expression one of apology.

“I’m so sorry,” Mor said the moment Elain was within earshot.

“For what?” Elain replied, still thinking of his smile.

“I didn’t know Graysen would be nearby. I heard he spoke to you. Elain…if I had known…” Mor’s voice trailed off as she studied Elain’s face. “Did you see him?”

“I did,” she agreed, blinking. “I guess I forgot.”

Mor arched delicate, blonde eyebrows and offered Elain her hand to winnow back to Velaris. She looked over her shoulder, back towards the estate hidden in the distance.

All she could see was him, standing in that doorway.

When had that happened?

1 year:

It had been raining non-stop for days and Elain was going out of her mind. She wanted to be out in the world, to see people, to do anything. Instead she sat in the window of her bedroom, looking wistfully out at the empty streets as lightning cracked across the sky. Spring storms seemed endless, trapping her in her bedroom to pace restlessly. She pressed her forehead to the glass, wishing for the barest hint of sunlight. Elain pulled her bare feet beneath her lilac-colored dress as her mind wandered towards a letter he’d sent two weeks before. He was traveling again and he wrote of what he saw, of the things that fascinated him, of what made him laugh. She’d written back, desperate to hear more but he hadn’t responded.

Perhaps he’d tired of their constant communication through letter alone. It disappointed her, each morning that she woke with nothing new on her desk. She didn’t want him to tire of her. She wanted to see him, if she was perfectly honest. She thought she’d been obvious regarding her intentions, but perhaps something she’d said made him think she was no longer interested.

Elain glanced back down at the street where a figure was walking, a dark hood pulled over their head, body covered in a long, cloak. Her thoughts of him vanished as her interest peaked. Who was brave enough to come out in the middle of the thunderstorm raging around them? What could possibly have pulled them outdoors? Elain watched as they approached, closer and closer until they removed their hood. Red hair, a flash of gold and Elain launched herself off the windowsill and out of her room without a second thought. Her feet slapped loudly against the floor beneath her even as thunder shook the walls. She practically jumped the steps, half-tripped over a carpet runner in the hall, and yanked open the front door. Warm, spring air hit her in the face as a bolt of white lit up the dark gray sky around her. She didn’t care. She plunged into the pouring rain where he was, still walking to the front door.

He caught her the second she flew into his arms. “Lucien,” she breathed into his neck, her hands in his hair. They’d never been so close before and yet it felt right.

He chuckled, his arms tight around her waist. “Hello to you, too,” he replied, lifting her off her feet. Water drenched them both, her dress clinging to her skin but she didn’t care. She touched his face as he lowered her back to the pavement, directly into a puddle of water.

“You didn’t write,” she said, her face mere inches from his own. His expression softened, that russet eye melting into flame even as the golden one clicked softly as though responding to her words. “Things suddenly became very hectic. I came to offer you my apologies in person—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she assured him as he held her face in his broad hands. Beautiful, she thought. He was so incredibly beautiful. Lucien smiled.

“Of course I do,” he assured her, lowering his mouth ever so slightly. Her eyes fluttered closed the moment they touched. Thunder boomed around them again, not that either of them noticed. It might as well have been her pounding heart, leaping with excitement. His lips were soft and somehow, and she couldn’t explain it, he tasted the way sunshine felt.

“We should probably change out of these clothes,” Lucien told her, eyes still closed, voice strangled, when they broke the kiss.

Elain burst into giggles. He looked at her, cheeks flaming. “I didn’t mean—”

“Of course not,” Elain agreed, her hand slipping into his own. “But perhaps you could help me all the same?”

Lucien nodded, following as she led him back to the house.

And as she walked through that door, soaking wet and beaming, Elain thought she’d never been half as happy as she was in that moment.

With Lucien.

#elucien #elucien fic #elucien one shot #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #i am so soft for these two #i genuinely enjoyed writing this #and would write more like it

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catboyshinsou · 4 years

Text

jazz from heaven

pairing: aizawa x gn!reader

warnings: stress mention, panic attack mention, crying

word count: 1800

summary: after a stressful week, reader drives to aizawa’s apartment at 2am for comfort

Footsteps echoed in the never ending staircase, mocking you for your late night visit. Quick, shaky breaths left you as you reached the top floor. You had always hated the position of his apartment, in the middle of the city and on the top floor. It made going in and out easier for hero work since he could use the roof to enter and leave without making too much of a fuss. After climbing the mountain of stairs that was understandable but in this very moment, you hated that he lived here with every fiber of your being.

It was a quiet saturday morning. For once the streets were empty, even the high end villains would be sleeping by now. Everyone was asleep but you. You had made your way to your boyfriend's apartment at 3am and hoped for the love of everything that's holy that he was awake.

Of course as a teacher and pro, he was bound to be awake to grade or just coming back from patrol. It was the weekend of course and you'd normally hope

he was getting some rest but now you needed him awake. Just awake enough to give you a hug.

You knocked on the door, the sounds echoing in the halls. One, two, three.

You chewed on your lip and pulled on your fingers while you waited for an answer. Maybe it was too quiet? Maybe he was sleeping?

With a knot in your throat, you stood in front of the wood door, sniffing quietly. The week had been rough, today being the worst it's been in a while. You hadn't seen Shouta in a week. UA gave him more work than he usually had, especially since he was a homeroom teacher again. Of course you guys had kept in touch through texts and calls but right now you needed the real thing. You didn't want to be the clingy s/o, even if you've wanted to come by every day this week.

On Monday, when customers had yelled at you all day long you just wanted to sink into his arms.

On Tuesday, when weird guys chatted you up on the street and didn't leave until you dared to call someone.

On Wednesday, when you met old friends and they pointed out how much happier you seemed back in the day and how much you've lost your smile.

On Thursday, when you overthought yourself into an extensive panic attack in your bedroom.

Friday had been the worst. You almost immediately started bawling once you got home from an extra shift at work, barely being able to hold yourself for a couple of hours until the tears stopped. The next thing you could remember was being on your way to his place.

Your phone lit up the dark corridor, blue light shining onto your face. 'hey, it's me at your door’

Footsteps approached, dragging themselves over the wood floor. After a few seconds of unlocking the rather old door, Shouta opened and gave you an unamused look.

“It’s 2am, y/n.”

He had a towel throw over his shoulders, his damp hair falling on it. The usual hero jumpsuit was nowhere to be seen, his pink sweatpants instantly catching your eye. Paired with a washed out and too big shirt, he looked about bed ready even if you knew he wouldn’t be sleeping for another hour or two. Warm air came from behind him, you smelling the shampoo Mic had recommended him a few weeks ago.

“I know… I’m sorry…” You breathed out while walking into his apartment. Your eyes glued to the floor, a shaky breath escaped you as you took off your shoes.

The pro’s eyes softened. His confusion turned into concern, reminding himself that your late night visits usually had a reason.

You stood back up and took another deep breath. Guilt washed over you when you remembered that you showed up at Shouta’s door at 2am, when he was probably exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. Your cheeks burned as he walked past you into the living room, one of the only light sources except from the bathroom behind you.

Shouta had just gotten done with the last grades, the pile of graded papers neatly next to his mug of tea and all of his work stuff. He wanted to finish school stuff up, even if patrol had worn him out, so that he could completely relax on the upcoming weekend.

“Sorry for not calling more, I’ve been really busy with school…” He walked past you and put away the stacks of paperwork, so that the cat didn’t have her fun with them if she came home overnight. “Kids can be such a pain, I don’t know why I agreed to be a homeroom teacher.”

A few cars passed by, slow jazz coming from another apartment. It was a faint sound but just enough to push you to the edge. Lights flickered when you took another step into the apartment, as if you had just disrupted its peace.

He huffed as he turned off the lights and got back to you. You who was still awkwardly standing in the corridor as if this was your first time at his place. You pulled on your fingers and just watched him put his stuff away.

“Everything okay?” He stood in front of you now, a hand on your cheek and soft eyes looking into yours. Even if he wasn’t the most expressive with his own emotions, he had mastered yours. Something was wrong, even if you probably didn’t want to think about it. You probably still would either today or tomorrow but he didn’t want to inquire more.

With a gentle tug, he pulled you into his arms and pressed you close to him. His warmth surrounded you while he patted your head. Tears streamed down your face, silent sobs escaping you. You started shaking as the sobs got more violent, Shouta just holding you and stroking your back.

“Oh, y/n…”

The tears soaked into his black t-shirt, your arms wrapped around him as you heaped. Keeping your low as low as possible, it was still 2am after all, you felt his steady breath against you. It made you feel safe, as if nothing could happen to you anymore.

Shouta didn’t know why you showed up to cry. But after working with a lot of different people, including teenagers and kids, he knew that this wasn’t the appropriate time to ask. What you needed was a no judgement zone and comfort.

With the last tears flowing, you started regulating your breath again. Your boyfriend noticed your deepening breaths, holding you even closer.

“That’s right, just deep breaths…” With a low whisper, he gave you kisses on your forehead as you did just that.

You sniffed and took a shaky breath as you buried your face in his shoulder. With a tightened grip on him, you just took him in and waited for the uneasy feeling to leave your system. You still trembled, trying to hold back the tears that dared to spill again. It was enough crying for today. In fact, you had cried enough for a lifetime this past week. Shouta was probably exhausted too, he didn’t need more to worry about.

Of course, he noticed your struggle. If one of you pulled another closer, you would practically merge so he felt the way you trembled and how your breath still wasn’t regulated. In moments like these, he wished he could do more. Somehow make you realise that everything would be okay and you could let it out here without being a burden to him. But he could only hold you like this while reassuring you in every way he could.

“Do you want to go to bed? A tea before?”

You shook your head and let go of him. Your head banged and your eyes burned. With the collar of your shirt you wiped away the trail of tears on your cheeks, the fabric irritating your eyes even more.

“Let’s go to bed then…” He tugged you into his bedroom and opened his drawer to give you something warmer to sleep in.

The room was neater than you expected. How did he find the time to keep everything so tidy if he was barely home? His laundry was folded and stacked on his bed, the school stuff on his desk with his laptop. The only other mess here was his bed with half torn off sheets and different pillows and blankets all over. You smiled at his little chaos before plopping onto it.

“C’mon, wear that.” He tossed one of his sweaters at you, which you somehow caught before it landed in your face. “It’s gonna be getting colder.”

Without questioning him, you just changed into it. The fabric felt soft on your skin, you could tell it was fresh out of the machine. It smelt like fabric softener, the one that only he had because he ran his errands in those 24/7 shops after patrols and those were somehow the only ones that carried this brand. You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it smelled like so it was just Shouta. One of those things you would always connect with him like cats and pink sweatpants.

You looked over at his desk, an extra picture frame of what you guessed was his new class on it. It was too far away for you to see the individual faces but they seemed like an interesting group already.

Shouta sighed and let himself fall next to you. “Wanna talk about what happened?”

With a deep breath you shook your head and rolled over to face him. Your head still ached, you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. Your throat hurt, the knot completely tying off your words.

He took you into his arms and pulled the blanket over your shoulders. “Want me to talk?”

You nodded into his chest and took another deep breath. This was what you had needed over the week. His presence, his touch, his voice. They were natural tranquilizers for you, reassurances that everything would be okay.

“Nezu gave me class 1-A, can you believe that?” His hands were on the nape of your neck, his thumb caressing behind your ear. “I had them do a fitness test on the first day… I watched them during the entrance exam and I just wasn’t fully convinced… Remember the kid I told you about that just got in through rescue points? And the one that only got in with villain points? Yeah, they’re both in my class and it’s more than obvious that they don’t get along well… They’ve all got interesting quirks, it’s a pretty colourful group and I’m... interested how they’re gonna train them...”

Both of you started getting sleepier with every word he said. He ended up slurring his words as he yawned before silence fell. There was still the jazz playing from somewhere outside, cars passing by occasionally. You hicked a few breaths but Shouta made sure to hold you closer and whisper reassuring words when you did.

“Can I stay here for the weekend?” You croaked right before falling asleep.

“You’re always welcome here, y/n…”

#bnha imagines #bnha writing #bnha x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine #aizawa fluff #aizawa x you #aizawa comfort #comfort fic #bnha comfort

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kissme-hs · 4 years

Text

Tainted love: 3

Here it is!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to update it but let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy it.

~Ria

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: None.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Hatred is far from the feeling you felt. You were disgusted. Utterly disgusted with the man you put your trust and faith and your heart into who did nothing but took it for granted and it all into little crumbs of pain. All this time you blamed yourself for HIS actions that he not only did while being in his complete sense but knowing how wrong it is-continued doing it. The image you had of Chris in your mind now vanished, the man you once thought deserved to be prayed now made your stomach churn because of how shameful he turned out to be.

After sending him the text you thought, oh you thought that he would realize what he lost, that he would feel a little bit at least of regret in the back of his head but you were so wrong. It not only made you feel worthless but made you realize instead how your love meant nothing to him, how all those years you spent in each other’s arm vowing to each other to be in love until the end of time was nothing but a lie to him. Where to you it meant your entire life.

One doesn’t stay with a person for three years not to just fuck and say I love you’s for fun. With the years the feelings grow strong and at some point, you start fantasizing marrying that person, having kids with the person, grow old with the person. But when one decides to go and cheat, putting all the years of love in ignorance and throwing it all in the pit of darkness not only everything changes but the dreams once knitted by the eyes of the one who remained faithful in love, who was the true lover gets struck by the lightening of reality. And once the dreams crashes, it becomes nearly impossible to dream again because the dreamer starts seeing the real world.

Fuck dreams.

Became your to go motto ever since you knocked on his door.

The heavy teal door opened after a few knocks as you held your breath getting yourself ready to face the man who ripped your heart apart. But instead you were met by a pair of green eyes, gorgeous eyes. She stood there in his hoodie and a pair of short showing her perfect toned legs. Her dirty blonde hair and fuller plumps would made any man lose his girl and go crawling to her. She was an absolute piece of art.

“Chris we have someone here for you” She yelled leaning back a bit so the man could hear her. She gave you a side smile as a gesture of kindness. She was aware she was a homewrecker, she knew how much Chris loved you and she also knew being a good friend she should’ve stopped him when things became a routine between them two but she couldn’t say no to him. Chris would make any women go crawling to him too. She was equally shameful for what she has done not as close to how Chris was feeling but still. So when Chris asked her to come over explaining her what happen which she knew would some day she didn’t hesitate coming over comforting him.

“i-im Samantha” she replied stepping aside letting you step inside of your his house. The smell of familiar cologne and candles hit your nostrils making you tear up from the past good memories. Gi ving her a tiniest sad smile and a nod, you stepped inside of the house. Turning your gaze up to the sound of approaching footsteps you saw the man, and oh sweet jesus you thought you’d hate him but how could you when the feeling of love was always greater than hatred. But the pain crept up when you saw Samantha walking to him and rubbing his side comforting him, though she was guilty, she still at some point enjoyed the attention Chris gave her.

Though she might have a portion of kindness in her heart she was known for breaking homes. She was used to getting in pants of men who were committed. It made her feel special; it made her feel like gold that everyone loved chasing. Especially in this case, knowing what a prize Chris’s girlfriend, you were she was over the moon. She loved how Chris was willing to give up a beautiful woman with a proper job and who had her life sorted for someone who was nothing compared to you.

“Y/n” he breathed out ignoring the woman rubbing his arm. His eyes getting wet seeing your face after days. Jeez only if he could kiss you and tell you how much he missed you and loved you.

“I-im sorry, I’m so sorry” He said walking to you as you raised your hand telling him to stop, which he understood nodding his head and taking a step back. He felt the ache in his heart.

“He really is sorry, he told me everything after you texted him so I came running” Samantha uttered rubbing Chris’s back. It did nothing to you but made your blood boil as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath not wanting to say something which could hurt her feelings. Opening your mouth telling her to leave you heard Chris say that instead.

“Can I ask you to leave please?” He asked her taking a deep breath trying not to yell either.

“I-“

“Get out, get off my property” you spat. You and Chris jointly brought this house so you wouldn’t feel a burden on him being the independent woman you were. Feeling like she was shamed in front of two successful people, Samantha gathered her stuff and left within the next coming minute. Though you were a softie, there was no doubt you has a powerful side too.

“I’m sorry baby, I am so sorry. Please give me a second chance.”

“Why Chris? Why did you cheat on me? Was my love was not enough for you to sleeping with her. Tell me Chris did you not feel a little bit of shame fucking on OUR bed? Tell me why did you have to go and do that making me look like a fool? Why did you waste my time? WHY DID YOU FAKED THE LOVE if you wanted to cheat?” You finally let it out. You were crying at this not giving a fuck. He deserved to see how broken he left you. You were not going to act like everything was fine, like you didn’t care when you felt dead inside.

“No. No baby. Never for once I ever faked my love for you.” He cried cupping your cheeks-you finally let him touch you because you wanted to feel his warmth on your cold skin. His own eyes crying as you sobbed yourself.

“I-I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know why I decided to chase a rock when I had the most precious diamond. She is nothing compared to you. Nothing. I love you so much” He whispered resting his forehead against yours. You knew deep down he meant what he said. You felt the words hitting your body making your knees go week but it was for the best. The separation. So pushing him back slightly you gathered your broken pieces up.

“I just came to tell you that I am moving to California. I will always cherish the good memories you gave me” you gave him a broken smile wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

“No please give me one more chance” Chris pleaded grabbing your hands. His defeated eyes begged yours to give in, to see that he wasn’t lying anymore. That he was truly sorry for what he has done but being the strong headed woman you are, you shook your head and wiped his tears with your hand before cupping his cheek.

“It’s for the best. I still love you, but it’s not the same Chris. Let me let you go”

That was an year ago. An year ago you left the man standing on his porch as you turned your back on his forever, making your way to the new life that waited ahead of you in Los Angeles. The city of angels. The city that gave you a chance to put your words into songs, let your shattered voice sing it in a melody helping you reach out to him without reaching out to him.

And today you stood in front of over 100 amazing successful celebrities who warmly welcomed you in the family of Hollywood and decided to join you for your album launch party. You didn’t hesitate writing down your deepest condolences you had for yourself and singing it out. Every word people heard in the songs came from the bottom of your heart. Came within the true feeling of getting lost and found again.

Getting into the industry wasn’t hard for you. You were already a known person working for Hollywood and it not only being the reason how you met Chris it also gave you an opportunity to let your talent out. All those months you spent working hard to get acceptance by one of the music producers was the time when Chris was fucking Samantha. Only if he stayed the night you begged him to, he would’ve known it all.

Your album was dedicated to Chris. No one knew expect you. No one could know anyways.

Stepping down the mini platform where you expressed you gratitude to the audience you made your way to where the bar was set up to drink in the emotions that were bubbling up your throat from all the love you received to the pain that still ached in every nerve in your body. It was impossible to erase the memory of him fucking Samantha from your head. You were proud to you say you tried. Tried every way of escaping his face haunting your dreams every night. The feelings choking you down. The pain eating you alive. But you couldn’t.

“What you said there was beautiful.” You heard the deep voice of the man who you left standing on the door of Boston an year ago. Turning your body around, mentally preparing yourself for the wave of mixed emotions to hit you like a truck you faced his adorningly beautiful face. His beard looked fuller and his hair fluffier. He looked the same but his eyes looked dead, just like they were when you left.

“Thank you.” You gave him a broken smile.

“Can we talk? Please?” He asked you with eyes full of hope and you nodded letting him guide you out to the balcony that had the perfect view of the city. He deserved some time with you after an year of you completely blocking him out. He deserved to know that the words coming out of your mouth in the song were written about him.

“It about you, you know. The album” You said walking over to the railing looking at the illuminous city.

“I figured, I never knew you were working on something so big.” He stood beside you.

“You would have if you stayed”

“Listen, I’m not going to waste any more time. Im here to beg you back in life, I am sorry for what I have done but please give me a chance. That one year spent without you was my living hell. Everyday I prayed for you to come back but you never did and there’s no question why. I am a horrible man but I promise if you let me prove it that I am so much better than I was I wont let you down. I will love you even more than I ever have” he said with a soft voice guilt dripping with every word he spoke making you turn around to face him. His eyes glistening with tears and his hands holding each other in front of his chest.

Man was literally begging you.

“Hey you are not a horrible man.” You whispered walking to him as you put his hands down and held his one cheek in your hand. He instantly nuzzled his nose feeling your skin after days of being away from you. His knees were giving away and so was his heart.

“We all make mistakes but learning from them and moving on is important. I forgave you the minute I stepped away from our relationship. You’re nothing but still the most precious man I ever had” you said. Your own eyes picking the tears.

“then give me a chance” he spoke kissing your palm staring down In your eyes making your belly turn in knots.

“I cant. I have moved on Chris” You said breaking his heart. He breathed out biting his lower lip as he looked on. He never felt so defeated and helpless. But this is what he deserved for throwing away the best he ever had. For not respecting the beautiful relationship and woman he was meant to guard. He opened his mouth but the lump in his throat got in the way. He could just break down.

“Then let me be your friend. I just want to be in your life. Make up for what I’ve missed. Please don’t say no.” He trembled in fear you would reject him but instead you nod your head and pull him in a hug knowing he would break if you didn’t. Still knowing him like the back of your head you gave in his request hoping you could contain the emotions.

It is said, two who once fell in love can never be friends. Once in love, always in love.

So you stood there holding him, closed your eyes letting the man calm his cries. Falling back in the chakra of tainted love.

Tags

@captainchrisstan

@evansphnx12

@adriannajackson

#chris evans x wife!reader #chris evansxreader #chris evans headers #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #chris evans fandom #cevans

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

Hotel Room: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August, sick of you jumping from location to location trying to escape him, broke into your hotel room to interrogate you about you leaving him months earlier.

Words: 2952

(First Person) (Both August x Y/N POVs)

**It is August, but in my head August isn’t evil, more just temporarily morally confused, so in this he’s an okay guy.**

Warnings/notes: angst, fluff, internal emotional thoughts (which always make me uncomfortable), mentions of sex. cursing somewhere.

****So the edit directly below was done by @eastwesthomeisbest for this story. I meant to add this to my story ages ago but something reminded me today, and i’m glad it did, because this edit made me so happy that I wanted to share it again. I love it so much! All of the edits made by @eastwesthomeisbest are freakin amazing!****

August POV

I would wait all night in this room if I had to, just to see her face and find the look I am horribly desperate to see in those eyes. The one I hope will reassure me of her feelings.

I want to believe that she can’t fool me; that I am as confident in her love as I seem to be, but she rules me in every way. If at any time, any single moment, anywhere, in front of the entire world, she told me to kneel before her, I would kneel like the begging puppy she doesn’t even know I am.

The silver knob of the door jiggles the slightest and a sudden fear bubbles up inside me that squashes my determined facade like a fly. What if she isn’t alone? What if she has some unworthy idiot she plans to take to her bed?

But no. Thank God.

Once on this side of the door, she closes it quietly behind her as if not to disturb anyone sleeping in the same hall and leans her forehead against the wood. She sighs, and I worry over that sound.

She doesn’t look up when she asks how long I have been in her room. She sighs again, and I worry again. I can feel her exhaustion from 10 feet away. It floats to me, hoping I might let some of the burden seep into me through my every pore just to relieve her. And if it were a physical possibility, I wouldn’t hesitate to take not just some of it, but all, until nothing weighed her down and she could straighten her spine for the first time in a while.

“Not long.” I say, pushing myself upright from my leaned position on the wall beside her.

She lifts her head and graces me with a glance. A tired glance, but something of a gift, nonetheless. “Get out. I’m in no mood.”

I cross my arms because they make my muscles bulge in a way that she could never resist. And I think that if that doesn’t get to her, well, at least it shows her I’m still strong, I’m still determined, despite how being around her always turns my brain to jelly. “I need to talk to you. That’s all I want.”

She would groan if she had the energy. I can tell by the way her lips thin when I say anything. “Then speak if you find it so absolutely necessary but make it quick, will you. And skip the part explaining how you found me again. I’m getting really tired of the whole ‘you’re not good at covering your tracks’ bit.”

I’m pushing her to the brink. She fakes nonchalance, but she’s irritated, at best. She’s the kind of irritated that has the ability to turn into something much worse over time, and I know if a baseball bat were nearby, mustering enough strength to beat me to a bloody pulp would not be as hard for her as I wish; but she has yet to kill me, so I say: “Fine. I am in love with you.”

She scoffs and puts her hands on her hips. My hips. They belong to me. They are for me to touch and grab and love. “So you have said, repeatedly. Is that it?”

“You are in love with me too, and I want you to come home.”

A beautiful, sarcastic chuckle sings in my ears. “Wow.”

“The truth is the truth.”

“I am not in love with you!”

“Yes, you are.”

She rolls her eyes, but all it does is lighten my heart. “You really are insane.”

“You love me. You do now, and you did when you somehow managed to pack up and leave in the middle of the night without me noticing. Which I still can’t figure out. Until that night, you couldn’t so much as shift in the bed beside me without me waking to make sure you were fine and safe.” I shake my head. I had replayed that night in my head too often for any sane man, and still couldn’t understand how she disappeared like a wraith. “But I woke up the next morning with you not next to me, because somehow you had slipped away without a trace.

“Apparently not, seeing as how you keep finding me wherever I go.”

“I told you a long time ago, I would always find you. If anything ever happened, I would protect my woman.”

“I’m not your—”

“I know you don’t want to believe it, because I was a bad guy who did some bad things; a bad guy you heard had done even worse things, unspeakable things, but this feeling is real despite that. Our connection…”

“We have no connection!” She yells before running her hands down her face. She is tired of this, but if I give up now, she will never allow the word ‘love’ to pass my lips in her presence again, if she even chose to speak to me.

“Y/N, I don’t want to be without you. I can’t stand another second without being able to have you, or hold you, or kiss you, or make love--”

“Stop it, August!” She snaps. “You live in fantasies and think just because you say things over and over that they eventually become truth and everyone around you will accept it as such.”

“We are not a fantasy! You and me, we are--”

“We are nothing!”

A quiver echoes around the room.

A crack in her shell.

Tears began to dribble down the soft cheeks I once kissed.

I move but she steps back with every inch I advance until the icy chill of the wall is flush against her back. And I see it: false hatred masking underlying fear in her eyes; a fear she has had since we met, a fear of loving me.

I brace an arm on the wall, my palm flat next to her face as my other moves to her body, down her arm, to the curve of her waist, to the silky soft flesh peeking from under her sweater for me to stroke with my thumb as the rest of my fingers firmly grip her hip. My hip.

“We are everything to each other…and you know it,” I say as I meet her eyes. They glisten, wet and shiny and beautiful in a way I hoped I would never be the cause of. Her teary gaze is unblinking, in utter disbelief that I was touching her again, that she was letting me touch her again.

“Don’t,” is all she whispers; one final plea as I firmly grasp the last brick of the wall she put up to keep me out and throw it away, out of sight where it could never be found again…I hope.

“August…” Another whisper.

“Y/N, I know I scared you and I know you heard a lot of bad things about me, but I would never hurt you, ever. And I’ll step away, I will, I promise I will, if you tell me to.” I never wanted to lie to her, but as the last of those words come out of my mouth, I know that is exactly what they are: A lie. I won’t ever step away.

I inch my head down to hers, my face closer to hers, my lips a hairs width away from hers, praying she won’t shove me away.

“Just tell me to.” I whisper against her lips.

But she doesn’t and so I press my lips to hers, taking her rosy, plump bottom one between my own.

She tastes the same. Too many months without this taste is like coming home after being at war and I savor every single generous second.

Then I feel it. A movement of her lips over mine, a small pressure that forces a moan from my throat, tingling both of our lips. I don’t waste another beat pulling her to me. Remembering this sensation of our bodies molded so perfectly together is intoxicating. I won’t, I can’t let her go. Not now. Not ever again.

Y/N POV

I’m still.

So still.

I can’t move, and I tell myself it is only because he has trapped me; that my anger is strong enough to paralyze me; that he is abusing me, and I just see too much red to focus on that fact. I tell myself that the chill running down my spine is from the wall he has me up against.

He looks at me like he wants me. It’s the way he has always looked at me. Devouring. Begging. Desperate.

He is moving, somehow closer than he already is and my body reacts to him, sensing a familiar stinging heat though his skin has yet to touch mine. I can feel my heart’s uncontrollable excitement and I’m screaming for it to shut up, to stop beating for him, stop humming for him, just stop living if that’s what it takes for him to go away. But it won’t, or can’t, or just doesn’t want to. I have no idea anymore, but I can’t look away from the hand inching its way toward my arm.

If you touch me, I will kill you, I repeat over in my head.

But it, he, moves closer.

If you touch me, I will kill you.

And closer.

If you touch me…

He looks at me, right in the Y/E/C of my eyes and the air is sucked from my lungs.

…I will kill you.

Then he touches me.

His hand rests gently on my shoulder and skims down my arm over the fabric of my too-thin sweater. My waist feels it and my belly flops as he strokes the skin that hasn’t felt his touch in months. It sings for him, my skin. It cries in relief and thanks me for not shoving him away.

Finally, it moans.

I think this must stop, now. Break the contact. Don’t let him control you. You have fought so hard to become the woman you are, a woman who needs no one, and now is not the time to give in to this feeling, but it feels so good and he has only stroked a thumb, a simple thumb, along an insignificant amount of my skin.

I am numb to everything but the fire of his fingertips.

“Don’t.” What a pathetic whisper. A lie.

But his gaze is unwavering.

“August…” I cry his name in my head over and over, but once again, my mouth fails me and it comes out so quietly, so soft.

He tells me he will stop if I tell him to. But his face is so close, his lips are so close. I feel his puffs of breath stroke my skin and it warms me from head to toe.

He whispers something again, but the blood rushing in my ears doesn’t allow me to comprehend. I think I need to pull away.

Not now, my mind screams at me. Don’t be an idiot, it yells.

He kisses me and my brain shuts down. I only feel softness and slight pressure and a moan that tingles my lips, but I can’t tell who it came from.

The taste is the same. His taste is the same. It’s sweet with hints of whiskey he must have had recently and it shoves me back in time, into the body of the woman who let her guard down and was dumb enough to fall in love with a man like him. Then I move my lips, just my lips, and I’m pulled so close to him. I feel his muscles; firm ridges and valleys through his shirt against my stomach and breasts.

It’s too much and not enough.

My hands seem to rise on their own accord and slide to his arms, up to his shoulders; the opposite trail he had touched me with. He groans into our kiss as his arms hold me tighter than I thought possible.

By the time my fingers are resting on the back of his neck, pressing his lips harder to mine in the first greedy act I have taken, he’s hoisted me up. His hands grasp my bottom to secure me and I am forced to remember the last night we had together before I left.

Every feeling I had the last time I was on top of him, sinking down onto him, moving my hips in a way that made us practically weep from pleasure, swallows me whole. I remember the feel of his fingers as he grabbed my backside to keep me firm against him.

Imprints were left that night. Stinging from where he would roughly slap a cheek. Bite marks on my shoulders, my neck, my breasts, that didn’t disappear for days. He made sure to claim me in every way possible again and again.

And now he was back for me, my heart, my soul, my love. And he would not waste a single drop of the flood that was pouring out of me.

I plant my palms on the stubble of his jaw and tilt my head, parting my lips to give us the chance to deepen this kiss, and it allows him to slip his silky, soft tongue in to caress mine.

He turns us and walks to the large bed in the middle of the room, never breaking our kiss, before gently laying me down on the plush comforter and ripping his shirt off over his head.

He really is the same, I think. Everything is exactly the same. Perfect in every single way. Strong shoulders, and thick arms, and toned abs that lead down to a defined V that disappears under the waist of his pants. And he’s looking at me like I brought him back to life, just like he did for me before I ran.

“Come here.” I whisper, reaching out a hand for him to take; reassuring him that I want him, this, everything he has to offer me.

He gives me a tentative look and for once I see the vulnerability that being together can bring out in us. He’d perfected his craft of illusion long ago, but now I sense little of that mask.

August takes my hand in his and I tug lightly. He catches himself from falling completely on top of me and gently lowers his body onto mine in the most delightfully sensual way anyone could.

August POV

She’s looking at me in a way that’s going to destroy me from the inside out; like I’ve hung the sun that only shines for her, and all I want is to see that look every minute of every day until I’ve memorized it so well I see it in my sleep.

‘Come here,’ she says, and reaches out her delicate hand. Fuck, I remember those hands on my body, and I’m almost not sure I can handle it again. If I have her now, I will need her forever, and it’s terrifying how much I want it.

But I take her hand and let her pull my body on top of hers, and I kiss her because I have to. Because if I don’t, I will lose my damn mind. It’s a horrifying feeling that only her lips can relieve, and I drink in every second that she lets me savor this; that she lets me kiss her top lip and then her bottom; lets me delicately bite one.

And when she moans, dear god, when she moans, my whole body tenses with desire for her. I want to wrap myself around her and run my hands through her silky, Y/H/C waves. I want to tear her sweater off and slip her pants down, until she is bare for me and me only, so I can show her just how in love with her I really am.

I want to feel every inch of her and rediscover every dimple in her flesh, every freckle, and every tiny mole that even she doesn’t know she has. Every scratch, every scar, and that section of stretch marks that I once ran my fingers along before trailing the length of them with kisses, I want only to be for me.

No one else, right? I want to ask her. There’s no other man but me, is there? Please let there be no one else. But she loops her arms around my neck and tugs me closer like she wants me to sink into her so we can just be one, and my mind momentarily flies out the window. Other men or not, from now on she is mine.

Then she pulls away and I’m afraid I’ve suddenly scared her, desperately wracking my brain for what I could’ve done in a matter of seconds. But she takes in a deep breath and her Y/E/C eyes meet mine as my name is lucky enough to be a sigh that passes through her plump lips.

“August…” She says again, and I close my eyes, dipping my forehead down to hers. I inhale and exhale. I would wait a million years for any words she would be willing to give me. “I do love you.”

And I was right.

She is going to destroy me.

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

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @genius2050 @lokilvrr @sunshine-seven @missjayi @agniavateira @tumblenewby

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“Do you remember my promise?”

jimin x reader (or oc) genre: fluff; angst word count: 2.6K

a/n: Oh my goodness we’ve reached the last Jimin upload for a bit! So wild. In this one, Dear is feeling some anxiety after Jimin goes on tour for the first time since their brief break up and Jimin helps assure her. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))

Oh and it features a bit of Tae, Guk, and Jinnie.

YOUR eyes stayed glued to the text conversation as your chest tightened by the second. The anxiety seemingly came out of nowhere, though you realized it must had been building up over the past few weeks Jimin had been away.

When the three dots appeared, alerting you to your boyfriend’s pending response, you held your breath.

Chim: Grab your laptop, I’m calling you.

Dropping the phone to the comforter, you reached to your bedside table, pulling the laptop off. Opening it, you quickly clicked on the video chatting app as you sat up straight, crossing your legs. Lightly chewing on your finger nails, you eagerly answered the call when Jimin’s ID showed up on the screen.

“Hi Dear,” he greeted before his face came into view, the sound of his voice allowing you to release the breath you’d been holding. When his video loaded onto your display, you could have cried at the image of him, sitting in his hotel room, looking at you with a face full of concern.

“Hi,” you exhaled, wishing for nothing more than to reach out and hug him. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to blink them away.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, you sighing as you shrugged. “Talk to me,” Jimin told you gently. As he awaited your answer, he thoughtlessly ran his hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, I just feel on edge,” you admitted. Your boyfriend watched you carefully, scanning your face as he tried to gage your emotions and figure out what was burdening your mind. “I just needed to see your face,” you admitted, Jimin giving you a sad smile. “Hear your voice.”

“I’m here, Dear,” he assured you. Smiling weakly back at him, Jimin stared at you thoughtfully, fully aware of your downhearted spirit. “Be honest, ok?” He started, you nodding in agreement to answer his impending question truthfully. “With me being away, are you feeling uncertain?”

Exhaling shakily, you nodded, watching as Jimin licked his lips, his eyes planted on you. “I just-” you started before pausing as you directed your eyes to the side of the room in thought. “I feel anxious,” you told him, resting your chin on your hand. “I know we’re fine, but my chest is still so tight and I don’t know why,” you said, almost ashamed of what you saw as unwarranted feelings.

“You know that’s understandable, right?” He asked, you shrugging as you stared at your bedroom door, still unable to bring yourself to look at the man. “It is. It’s the first tour since-”

“I know, but that’s in the past, that’s not us,” you told him, looking at him through the screen. “I shouldn’t feel this way when you’ve been so amazing and we’ve been doing so well,” you spoke out of frustration of your anxieties.

“Exactly though,” he told you, his eyes widened with a hint of excitement gleaming from the pretty orbs. “The feelings make sense, but we are doing really well, Dear. So those worries that are pestering your mind are just leftover fears from a shitty experience. We have to replace the last tour with this one,” he explained to you, you watching him thoughtfully as you took in his words.

Observing him as he pushed back his hair again, the soft strands flowing back into place, you smiled weakly. “So what you’re saying is we just have to right the wrongs from the last tour?” Jimin’s lips spreading into a pretty smile. “Create new good memories to push the bad ones aside?”

“Exactly,” he whispered with a nod. His smile slowly morphed into a smirk, causing you to pull your eyebrows together scrutinizingly. “Hey, do you have your ring on?”

Looking at your right-hand ring finger, observing the small inscribed PJM, you toyed with the metal band. He gave it to you the morning he left for tour, promising that he would always love and appreciate you, no matter how much distance is between you. “Of course,” you told him with a nod.

“Do you remember my promise?” He asked, you flashing him a small smile, accompanied by a light giggle; the first genuine one of the night. Nodding, he let out a giddy laugh, his grin widening into a stunning beam as he tossed his head to the side, leaning against the side of his chair. “Tell me,” he nodded at you, you letting out a light scoff with a smile.

“You will love me with your whole being, no matter where you are in the world,” you paraphrased his promise, watching as his smile grew even bigger, his eyes turning to crescents.

Nodding, his expression slowly became more serious as he looked down at his own ring, running his fingertip over the small engraving of your initials. Glancing back up to you, he stared at you with an expression of sincerity. “I’m coming home to you at the end of this thing,” he assured you.

“I know you are,” you told him. “But I want you to have fun while you’re away,” you added, wanting him to know you always supported him. Even if you did miss him unbearably so in that moment.

“I know that, Dear,” he told you genuinely, licking his lips. “You don’t have to pick one or the other, you can support me and my career and miss me and want me home at the same time,” he informed you gently. “I love being on tour, I love seeing the fans, but of course I also want to be home with you. I miss you like crazy every single minute of every day.”

With a sigh, you nodded, tears gathering once again along your bottom lash line. “I know the feeling,” you said simply, Jimin giving you a tight, close-mouthed smile.

“I just want to hold you right now,” Jimin confessed, you letting out a light laugh as a tear slid down your cheek, you quickly wiping it away. “Oh, Dear,” he cooed at you with pouted lips.

Shaking your head, you brushed off your emotions with a bashful smile. “I’m ok, Chim,” you told him. “Just missing you a little more today.”

Nodding in understanding, he watched you through the webcam as you scrunched your nose at him. Giggling at the action, Jimin sat up in his chair as you moved the laptop from your thighs to the bed, lying down as you stared back at Jimin.

“I’m glad you texted me,” he suddenly spoke, your eyes widening slightly at the comment. “Thank you for telling me you weren’t feeling ok, instead of going through it alone,” he expressed his gratitude for your admission of your less than favorable feelings.

“I don’t know,” you pouted, “I still feel bad putting this shit on you while you’re away.”

“That’s silly, Dear,” he insisted with a shake of his head. “I always want to take care of you and when I can’t be there, I have to rely on you to let me know how things are going. Really going, not some fabricated image of how you want to be seen.” The words were spoken with such earnest sincerity, it brought forth your tears again. “Thank you for being honest and letting me be here for you,” he thanked you once more.

“God, you’re seriously too kind,” you smiled through your tears, wiping them away. “Thank you for being here for me,” you appreciated, Jimin giggling as you continued watching him, almost in disbelief of how amazing your boyfriend was.

Eyes widening in excitement, he held up a hand to you, telling you, “hang on.”

Observing him curiously as he unlocked his phone and started typing and scrolling, your eyebrows pulled together in question. “What are you doing?” You asked him with a sniffle, observing the way Jimin’s lips curved upward into a teasing smirk. “Chim,” you whined, dragging the word out.

“Patience,” he told you, you groaning.

“I have none,” you replied, Jimin scoffing through his big grin.

“That’s for sure,” he teased you, you lightly laughing in response. Setting the phone down, he shot you a close-mouthed smile, and there was a slight delay before the all too familiar song started playing from his device through the computer speakers.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, lifting your head from the mattress, a massive grin forming on your face. “Jimin,” you cooed, your eyes glistening as Jimin smiled lovingly at you. “You’re so cheesy, stop making me cry,” you whined.

As Beyonce’s ‘All Night’ filled your bedroom, the dreamy song soothing your remaining anxieties, Jimin swayed from side to side, wearing that pretty smile you adored so much.

“Aw, Dear,” Jimin giggled adoringly as his own eyes became glassy. “I want to wipe your tears away,” he pouted, you laughing as you dabbed under your eyes.

Lying flat on your back, you waved your arms back and forth gracefully to the smooth beat of the song, Jimin dramatically singing the chorus to you, throwing his head back as he sang in his angelic voice, which sounded amazing even when he was just joking around.

Just as he looked back to the screen, appearing as though he was going to say something, a knock sounded on his hotel room door, followed by three more knocks, all on different areas of the door.

Sighing, you giggled, Jimin shaking his head. “If I don’t let them in-”

“They won’t stop,” you laughed with a nod. “Let them in, Darling. I don’t mind.”

Shaking his head, he stood up, calling out, “I’m sorry,” as he moved further from the laptop to let his members inside the room.

“Wait, any bets on who it is?” You yelled out to him, Jimin popping back into view of the camera with wide eyes. “I bet you dinner it’s the nimrods and Jin,” you teased, feeling confident that it would be Taehyung, Jungkook, and the eldest member.

“Isn’t it too obvious,” he whined, “who else would it be?” He continued to complain as he headed back toward the hotel room door, the knocks only increasing in both frequency and volume. You listened as the door opened, Jimin immediately groaning.

“It had to be you three?” He grumbled, you giggling on your end of the video call.

“Jiminssi” Jungkook’s loud voice echoed overtop the music, Taehyung and Jin’s voices combining as they all got closer to the computer.

“Looks like I get to pay for dinner when you get home,” you called out to your boyfriend, the man complaining in the background.

“Oh?” Taehyung’s voice sounded suddenly. “Is that my girl?” He asked, peering at the computer screen, his head humorously appearing in the corner of the shot, you silently giggling at how cute he was. “It is,” he said excitedly with an accompanying smile, stepping fully into the camera’s sight, you waving cutely.

“Hi, Tae,” you greeted sweetly before scolding him. “Stop sending me photos of everything you eat, it’s actual torture,” you complained, Taehyung smiling at your complaint.

“I always eat enough for you, don’t worry,” he told you cutely, you laughing at the comment.

You grinned just as Jimin returned in front of the laptop, taking a seat once again as he turned down the volume on his phone so the song was just humming in the background.

“Ah, it’s Deary,” Jin cheered excitedly as he stepped in front of the camera, Jungkook in tow as he waved at you happily, you giggling as you waved back.

“Hey guys, how are you?”

“We’re all good, I think,” Taehyung answered for them all, you smiling at how happy they looked to be touring.

“I would ask you how you are but lover boy here literally never stops talking about you so I already know,” Jungkook teased your boyfriend, Jimin taking in a deep breath as he looked up at the younger man, shaking his head before letting the air out in a huff. “Ah, Dear’s eating ramen for lunch, doesn’t that sound so good?” He mimicked your boyfriend, Jimin covering his mouth with his hand as he laughed before using his opposite hand to slap Jungkook’s arm out of embarrassment. “I miss my girlfriend so much,” Jungkook continued, raising the pitch of his voice to further the teasing, “she sent me a selfie today, she looked so pretty.”

“That’s true, he talks about you constantly,” Jin confirmed as Jimin hid behind his hands, “I spoke to him this morning and asked how he slept and you know what he said?” He asked Jungkook and Taehyung, the two men grinning, highly entertained as Jimin silently laughed. “I sleep better at home, I just wanna cuddle my girlfriend.”

You laughed at their playful mocking, directing your gaze to Jimin to see him running his hand through his hair again as he smiled shyly. Shifting his eyes from the boys to you, you scrunched your nose at him, Jimin giggling at your happy expression.

“You know, that’s so weird,” you interjected, all four of the men looking to you. “He never mentions any of you,” you told them with a smirk, Jin’s jaw dropping as he pointed at Jimin accusatorily.

“Hey,” Jungkook complained.

“What the hell, man?” Taehyung joined in, Jimin simply shrugging as he smiled at you.

Jin looked toward the nimrods, cocking his head to the side. “Well, I don’t talk to my girlfriend about you guys either,” Jin joked, the two youngest members complaining.

“Well if I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t talk to her about you either,” Jungkook sassed back, Jin feigning insult as they began bickering.

“What is wrong with you guys? I talk to Peaches about you all the time,” Taehyung looked at them in confusion and offense, everyone looking to him for a moment.

“Are you admitting she’s your girlfriend?” Jungkook asked with his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“What?” Taehyung asked, a shy smile gracing his features as he became embarrassed. “No.” You all laughed at the man, all of you fully aware it was only a matter of time before your best friend and Taehyung got together.

As the conversation continued behind Jimin, the guys’ voices all blending and yelling overtop each other’s, you and Jimin checked out of their joking and bickering, choosing to instead lock eyes with yours through the laptop screen.

Jimin cutely scrunched his nose at you, you holding back a smile at the adorable action. He mouthed, “you ok?” you nodding sincerely. You were ok, knowing that this tour wasn’t a repeat of the last one. You and Jimin had grown as both individuals and as a couple. You’d never been so sure of anything before than you were of Jimin and your relationship.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him, Jimin dramatically placing his hand to his chest, you giggling at his dorkiness.

“I love you too,” he mouthed back with a stunning smile.

Even with all the chaos of the three men in the background of the video call, all you could see was Jimin, sitting there with a loving expression. He gave you more love than you could have ever asked for. Of course you still missed him immensely, but you were at peace knowing he was doing what he loves all while loving you with his entire being.

And at the end of it all, Jimin would come home to you. He’d barge through your front door and scoop you up into a massive hug and he wouldn’t let go for as long as you’d allow him to hold you. He would come home to you, because you were his home. And he was yours.

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catxsnow · 4 years

Note

hiii can you do fluff alphabets for jaybird? :)

Jason deserves all the softness

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Jason loves your hands. He can't get over how much more soft and delicate they are compared to his own rough calloused ones. There's nothing better than coming home from a long day to you dragging your hands on him or playing with his hair. B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Jason fully believes that he's not capable of being a good father. He had a terrible one growing up and Bruce wasn't much better. However, when you bring up the idea to him, he doesn't realize how much his heart aches to have kids with you. He's still very hesitant at the idea of it all.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Jason is completely exhausted nearly every night he comes home. He'll lie flat on his back with you cuddled into his side and that's the perfect way for him to end his night. D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Jason loves to go the family owned businesses in whatever town he's in. Whether it's a restaurant or cafe, or even a boutique, those are his favourite places to go with you. It's always something new and different and you never get tired of it. Not to mention that he likes to support the families because Jason is the most caring man in the world. E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world...))

You are my heart and soul F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Jason knew he was in love when you asked to meet his family. He tried to keep them away from you for so long because he knew how crazy and judgmental they could be against him - he couldn't drag you into that either. However, you promised him that you would never judge him based off his family - you were dating him, not them. Jason knew that he was in love with you at that point - anyone crazy enough to want to meet his family had to be special. G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Jason is rough around the edges. He tries to contain it around you and 95% of the time he does. However, when he comes home from a mission gone bad, he tries not to let his anger out on you but sometimes he ends up yelling at you and he knows you don't deserve it. Jason always feels bad about it instantly. He always makes it up to you, but you understand. His life is insane and he bottles things up until he explodes. The two of you had been working on that together for a while now. H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Jason doesn't like to intertwine fingers, he just likes a classic hand hold. You asked him why early on in your relationship and he responded with his ability for quicker reflexes. Jason always wanted to be as fast as he could if anything were to ever happen while you were together. His priority was to keep you safe at all times. I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He thought you were the most breath-taking person in the room. The second that he saw you he knew that he needed to get to know you. J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

yepyepyep Jason does get jealous - especially with his brothers. Dick loves to flirt with you and you and Tim were close friends. He hated it, a lot. However the worst time? You met Roy and he was instantly attracted to you. Jay was so mad that Roy tried to pull moves on you that he had to be held back from fighting his best friend. K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

(did this one already so I just copied from the original post)

Jason initiated the first kiss. My man is a COCKY BASTARD and just went in for it without evening thinking twice.

I think Jason is very a rushed kisser. He can't get enough of you and he just constantly needs more. So, behind closed doors Jason is trying compact all of his desire into a short amount of time. Living on the streets for part of his life left him not to dwell and take his time.

L = Love (Who says 'I love you' first?)

You do. It was just after you found out that he was Red Hood and you were taking care of a fresh wound from that night. He didn't understand why you were crying until you confessed that you loved him and were scared to see him get hurt badly. M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

Jason's favourite memory of you is the time that you punched Roy in the face. He was being an ass and you had enough of it. Jason couldn't stop laughing at Roy's reaction and he fell in love with you even more that day.

His favourite memory of you together, was the first time you trained together. After finding out that he was Red Hood you asked if he could teach you a little bit. When you showed up in your cute little outfit all excited to learn how to fight he felt giddy inside. You were so determined and excited to be there. Jason was so in love with you as you tried to throw punches as hard as him. N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Jason doesn't buy a lot of things for himself, but he buys lots for you. He spoils you with flowers constantly. O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

White. Jason's life is anything but pure and you're the only exception. He correlates you with innocence and purity in this gruesome life of his. P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Princess is by far his favourite. He uses babe a lot to. One time as a joke you called him a peasant and now you guys call each other by it all the time. Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Old literature. Jason loves the classics and he'll read them again and again. R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Jason loves to have baths with you. He'll fill up the tub and you guys will hand out in there until the water is too cold. Before that during the day, he just wants to laze in bed with you for hours and hours. The two of you will just talk, read, watch movies, cuddle, it's just what he needs for his day off. S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Jason bottles everything. He doesn't like talking about it and he certainly doesn't want to burden you with how he feels. You have to beg him to talk about it and when he finally does, it's like a waterfall of hidden emotions. As vulnerable as he feels with you, he also feels a hell of a lot better as well.

Jason cheers you up with a drive. He takes you anywhere you want without a destination in mind. The two of you chat about what's going on with you until you finally feel better and have a more level headed mind with his advice. Will also 10/10 buy you food before going back home. T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

his death

Jason loves literature. He used to read books constantly and he loves having debates about them with you. He's always interested to see his readings in a different perspective. U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Cooking. Jason will be stressed out and you'll come home to a five course meal and six dozen cookies. He loves to cook and he's good at it too. It always seems to take his mind off of what's bothering him. V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

How well he's doing without Bruce. Jason always despises that he's leaned off of Bruce for so many years. He loves to see how much he's accomplished without his help and without his ridiculous moral code. W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Jason doesn't really propose. You're the one to bring up marriage to him and he's says if you want to then he's game. Otherwise, it's not a big priority. X = Xylophone (What's their song?)

Over My Dead Body by Drake. Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

It's never really been a thought for Jason. He loves you and he's never going to stop loving you whether or not you're married. Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

He's pretty basic and just wants a dog. It's gotta be a big one like a Saint Bernard.

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #fluff #dc imagine #dc #dc fluff #fluff alphabet

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paisley-print · 3 years

Text

3:00am : George Strait Sang It Better.

About: The two of you make your way home from the bar...

Rating: SFW

Word count: 1635

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Warnings: HEAVY ANGST I AM SO SORRY (no I’m not hehehe), Curse words, fluff, mentions of death, grief, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vom*t ,implied age gap.

NOTE: Not me making myself cry....not that. Also I love country music y'all can square up on me if you like. I find it funny how I am turning this satire of a character into a Nicholas sparks protagonist. Wild.

MIDNIGHT MASTER LIST

3:00am : George Strait Sang It Better

“I’m not drunk.”

Jack had you slung over his shoulder “I don’t believe that’s a correct statement.”

“Are you proud of me for beating all those guys at pool?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am sugar, you know…. I think the whole bar was lookin’ to take you home after that.”

Jack had spent most of the night sitting back and watching you interact with the other patrons. How you flitted about like a little fairy; all giddy and flushed from the alcohol. He enjoyed seeing men and women ogle over you. The looks on their faces when he scooped you up to leave was priceless.

“Wha?! No! Only you can take me home!”

He smirked “that is right babygirl- only me.”

You giggled and whispered to him, “Jack?”

He whispered back to you “what?”

“May I smack your ass please?”

You heard him chuckle “only cuz you asked so nicely.”

You gave his ass a light tap “boop”

“Excuse me mam I said smack not a boop. My ass is too incredible to have it booped.”

“Well, I booped you- watcha gonna do about it?”

“Might not help you take off your makeup when we get home.”

You gasped dramatically, “you wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me honey,” he shot back.

You cleared your throat, “wait, put me down.”

His brows knit together, “you gotta throw up?”

You hummed in response.

He took you by the waist and placed you down, keeping his hands there to make sure you didn’t take a header into the brick wall.

Before he could react you flashed him a bright grin, broke from his touch and proceeded to skip down the street. It took him a second to realize he had been conned; he had to jog a little to keep up with you. “Girl, where in the hell do you think you’re goin’?....... y/n?”

“Do you hear that?” You asked, rounding the corner onto a totally empty side street. This side of town was mostly strip malls and county buildings. A record store was playing music from inside...it floated through the street and echoed lazily into the humid June night. “My father used to sing this song to me.”

The song was a cover of ‘Cross My Heart’ written by George Strait but sung by Dierks Bentley. “God I haven’t heard this song in years” you breathed, making your way into the street and laying down under the streetlamp. You sang along, “I cross my heart And promise to, Give all I’ve got to give, To make all your dreams come true.”

Jack stood off to the side, getting more and more frustrated. “I’m not gonna scrape you off the sidewalk if you get hit.”

You laughed, unable to see that he was upset…. “hit by what? All the cars?” The street was completely deserted, most everybody was home in bed. “You will always be the miracle, That makes my life complete, And as long as there’s a breath in me, I’ll make yours just as sweet.”

Jack shook his head, shifting uneasily on his feet.

It was an absolutely beautiful night- full moon, warm, not a single cloud obstructing the sky. You gasped and sat up “Jack please dance with me!”

“I’m tired, put your shoes on- let’s go-”

You gave him the puppy dog eyes “but it’s perfect! The song is almost over anyway-”

He snapped, losing his temper and shouting at you. “What part of I’m fucking tired do you not understand? Come get your shoes and stop acting like a goddamn child!”

You stared at him wide eyed while the music played on. The two of you had little spats in the past….but you had never seen him do anything close to that. Sobriety struck you in an instant. You held tears back and pulled yourself from the asphalt. Silently, you took your shoes from him and placed them on your feet.

His tone was still a little harsh but not nearly as bad as before, “you want me to carry you?”

“No” you said quickly “I can walk - thank you.”

Jack pulled the car to a stop at an empty intersection and waited for the light to turn green.

You were the first one to speak “sometimes I get too excited and act stupid... I apologize for not listening to you when you said you wanted to go. I’ll listen better next time.”

He sighed and hesitated, “I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you.”

You shrugged, “it’s okay, you were tired...plus George Strait sang it better anyway.”

“No, it’s not that-”

You could tell that he was fighting something, but you didn’t know what. His lack of verbal communication frustrated you at times, however it was something you had been learning to accept. Each day you noticed his tells and from those you would peace together how he was feeling. He would get boisterous when he was nervous, silent when he was focused, chatty when content...so on and so forth.

Although you would rather him tell you these things, you understood that he was a man raised in a way that forbade overly emotional declarations. He was getting better the safer he felt with you and it was okay that he wasn’t perfect with it just yet. Jack had spent years shutting people out, it was going to take time for him to break the habit.

“-that was my wedding song,” he confessed.

You nodded slowly, showing him that you were listening.

“You looked so fuckin’ beautiful and just - happy…….” he sighed again. “It’s uh- do you know that the two of you share the same birthday? I didn’t realize it until the other day when you mentioned yours …...three hundred and sixty five days in a year, what are the fuckin’ odds?”

The light turned but he didn’t move, he was staring transfixed at the road - his mind somewhere far. You watched him remember her and a life that no longer existed. He always had a certain look about him when he was thinking of her. You couldn't really put it into words; he just seemed so at peace with the world….like the burden of loss wasn't weighing him down.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter “the birthday you have coming up will make you one year older than she ever got to be…. It’s like one day I woke up and twenty-four years have come and gone overnight.”

He started to choke up a little, but fought against it. “ I don’t know why it just hit me all of a sudden. I can go weeks, months, without feeling upset. Then one little thing just sets it off and everything comes rushing back at once…. and it hurts the same way it did then.”

His breathing hitched in his chest, you could tell that he was probably on the verge of a panic attack.

You placed a hand on his leg “hey-”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That wasn’t right….. I’m not that person-”

“It’s alright-”

“No it’s not. I’m sorry if I scared you and I’m sorry that I’m talkin’ about this. I know you probably don’t want to hear it-”

“Jack” you spoke softly in an attempt to stop his spiraling. “I always want to hear about what you’re going through. No matter what it is…..your wife, she sounds amazing.”

He reached down to take your hand, squeezing it gently.

You brushed your thumb across his knuckles. “If you ever need to talk about her you can, I hope you know that. And what you said about it all rushing back….grief is not linear. It's not something that has a start and end...instead it’s like a box with a little ball inside. Every time the ball hits the side of the box you feel upset. Like tonight-”

Your other hand reached up to tuck a little strand of hair behind his ear, while you went on… “At first the box is tiny and the ball hits the sides of it often. However as time goes on the box gets bigger. Meaning that the ball has much more space to travel until it hits the sides.”

You paused for a moment to let him follow along. “You grew up with her; she is literally woven into the fabric of your soul. You are allowed to miss her and miss her deeply. Even after all this time. It is okay. In the same breath though, you are also allowed to be happy. I know you carry around guilt - I see it in you constantly……. but there was nothing you could have done Jack.”

You placed a finger under his chin and turned his head to face you, “and you didn’t scare me. You just caught me off guard is all.”

“I wish I danced with you,” he said softly.

“We’ll have plenty of time to dance, Jack.”

He looked so utterly exhausted; you dropped your hand to let him focus back on the road. “Yeah” he agreed, then lifted his foot off the break to continue on.

The open windows let wind rush through the cabin. He kept a tight hold on your hand, it was the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.

An idea surfaced in your mind…. “I think we should include her this year. We can pick up some flowers - maybe a little toy for the baby, and have a picnic. I’ll make cupcakes and we can blow out a candle for her as well ….would that be something you want to do?”

He rubbed his eyes and nodded.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled softly “you don’t have to thank me Jack.”

#Jack Daniels x you #Whiskey x you #Agent whiskey x Reader #Agent whiskey x you #Agent whiskey fanfic #Kingsmen Fanfiction #Kingsmen Fanfic #Pedro fanfic #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pedro Pascal Fanfiction #long live the queue

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

Text

love you for a long time

gif from @anakin-skywalker

warnings: graphic depictions of abuse, physical and verbal, cursing

wordcount: 3.2k

________

In the afternoon of Christmas day at Charlie’s house, the excitement had calmed down and everyone was recovering from the aftermath of the activities that morning.

“You don’t mind if I head out for a bit, right?” JJ asked, scuffing the floor with his boot as he spoke. “No, of course not. Go hang with the pogues, I’ll see you later.” Charlie nudged his shoulder. He paused before leaving. “I’ll be back, promise.” She furrowed her brow slightly. “I know, J. Go have fun.” He turned his lips up in a smile, a little forced, and gave her a quick kiss before leaving. “Love you.” She handed him a plate of cookies she had set aside just for his friends and smiled. “Love you too.”

The afternoon was fun, relaxed, and he felt at home again in the Chateau, boots kicked up on the couch and Kie knocking them away like normal. He only felt slightly guilty when a joint was passed around but limited himself so he felt just a small high, brief enough for the moment. He only allowed himself to smoke when he was in the Outer Banks, in the safety of the Chateau, and he didn’t want to come home high to Charlie - mainly for her family’s sake. (If he even heard one teasing remark about him being a bad influence on Jamie, he’d swear off drugs forever.)

“Didn’t bring your girl, JJ?” John B greeted him, slinging his arm around his shoulders and pulling him in for a hug.

JJ beamed the way he always did when someone referred to Charlie like that, as his girl, but shook his head and lied straight through his teeth. “Nah, they went to her grandparents’ house. I get to spend the day with you fools.”

“Lucky you.” Pope quipped, joining the hug. JJ grinned and tucked his head in with the two, finding a familiar comfort in their embrace. “Missed you guys, you know.”

Really, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop by his dad’s if he had Charlie in tow. He did this every year - showed up, got yelled at (sometimes worse), and was sorely reminded of why he didn’t talk to his dad or get replies if he sent him texts of what he was up to at school. His text thread with Luke was a string of unanswered messages from JJ, with a picture of him and Charlie dressed up for a formal - ‘hey dad, this is my girlfriend’ or a short message about school - ‘got an A on my marketing midterm today, kind of a big deal.’ Despite the pain it caused, JJ kept going back, like a moth drawn to flame.

When JJ came back to the Walker’s home, later than expected, he headed straight to Charlie’s room, barely giving her parents a greeting as he passed. His fists were shoved in his pockets and he gave them a brief nod and an excuse of “gonna go grab a hoodie from Charlie” before heading upstairs, even though it was technically off limits. Her dad went to say something but her mom registered his change in demeanor and stiff posture and stopped him, cutting him off from speaking and waving JJ upstairs.

Charlie was playing a card game with Jamie on her bed when JJ came in, awkwardly standing in the doorway. The siblings glanced up at the same time and Jamie grinned, gesturing for him to come play, while Charlie frowned as her eyes scanned over his set jaw and eyes rimmed red. “I’ll finish playing with you later, Jamie, take the cards.” She instructed calmly, not taking her eyes off JJ.

“But I -”

“Jamie. Go.” Jamie huffed and gathered the cards, then slipped out past him, JJ ruffling his hair affectionately as he left. JJ stepped forward slightly, shutting the door behind him, and finally took his hands out of his pockets, flexing them. Charlie spoke quietly. “What happened, J?”

“I, uh.” His voice cracked but he stood tall, unmoving. “Saw my dad.”

She stood and tugged him toward the bed by his wrist, noticing his split knuckles. “Did he...?” She trailed off curiously, frowning. He had only joked about his dad being a deadbeat in passing, and never quite elaborated on the extent of the abuse. Just said he was hit as a kid and left it at that, and Charlie was so shocked into silence that she left it too.

JJ took a careful seat next to her on the bed and hissed when he bit his split lip. She took his hand in hers carefully, rubbing her thumb soothingly over the knuckles. “JJ, what...what exactly...” Charlie asked quietly, unsure on how to approach it.

____

The first time something happened, JJ was ten.

His mom had just left him and Luke, and his dad had drunk practically half the liquor store’s supply within a week. JJ stayed out all day, only returning at sundown after he had stolen a sandwich or so from the grocery store (sometimes of his own accord, sometimes the teenager working the other side of the counter looked at the messy unkempt kid with pity and slid one surreptitiously across the counter). He had done his best to avoid his dad when he knew he’d be active and was often able to creep back into his rickety old house and into his room without incident.

One night he miscalculated.

He returned home after playing with John B out on the beach all day, hair still wet and bare feet sandy. When his little feet made enough noise to alert his dad sitting at their decrepit kitchen table, cigarette in hand, he froze.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Luke drawled, eyes narrowing at JJ’s presence.

“School.” JJ replied hurriedly. “I gotta shower. G’night Dad.” He tried side stepping past his dad, but he caught JJ’s scrawny arm in his grip. He eyed over his child’s appearance, zeroing in on his eyes.

“Blue eyes just like your mother.”

JJ merely nodded, unsure.

“You remind me of her. Every fuckin’ day.” He snarled. “You’re the reason, you know that?”

“What?”

“She packed up and left me with you. Didn’t want to take care of you anymore.” His grip tightened on JJ’s arm and JJ’s heart rate quickened, suddenly aware this wasn’t the normal lecture he was used to receiving from his dad.

“I can take care of myself.” He offered meekly.

Wrong answer.

JJ’s dad brought his hand to his face and slapped him across the cheek, hard enough for JJ’s ears to start ringing and his cheek to sting with the imprint of his dad’s fingers. JJ stumbled backward out of his dad’s grip, hand to his cheek as he just stared at his dad in shock.

“You can’t. You’re a fucking kid, a fucking kid we didn’t need, and now you’re a fucking burden!” Luke roared, spitting at JJ’s feet. JJ never let his wide eyes stray from his dad as he backed up, further and further out the room, until he was scrambling out the window in his bedroom and taking off as far as he could get away from the tiny little shack he called home.

He slept in a hammock by the beach that night, letting the sound of the waves rock him to sleep after he cried himself to exhaustion. A mistake. A burden. Just like his mother. Those words echoed through his head in his dreams and he tossed fitfully in the hammock, little fingers curled into the woven material.

___

As JJ recalled those first moments, a memory he had tried so hard to suppress but was unsuccessful each time, he stared ahead and stayed stiff, jaw set. “He started when I was ten, after my mom left. Then I moved out when I was 18 and avoided him like hell.” He laughed, no humor to his tone. “Guess he’s not done with trying to hit his kid though.”

“How often?” Charlie’s voice was small and pulled JJ abruptly out of his thoughts. Her gaze flitted over his expression, filled with worry, afraid to hear the answer. He shrugged. “Twice? Three times?”

“...a month?”

He laughed again, bitter. “A week. Sometimes in a day, but I learned how to run fast enough.”

“JJ.” She breathed out, horrified.

“Don’t.” He replied quickly, still not looking at her. “Don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not - J, you should have taken me, I would have stopped it - I’ll go and -” He grabbed her knee suddenly as she moved to rise. “Hell no, Charlie, you’re not going there over my dead body.” JJ finally made eye contact, swallowing hard as he tried blinking back tears. Truthfully, he was more overcome with emotion at her immediate willingness to protect him than anything.

At that, she went to throw her arms around him, moving too quick, and he flinched out of instinct. Charlie’s face dropped as she pulled her arms back to her side, until he leaned slightly into her and rested his head down on her shoulder.

She moved slower at his permission, tugging him gently to lay back on the bed, his head rested on her chest as she combed her fingers gently through his hair. After a while, she broke the silence. “J? Why’d you go?”

He shrugged, curling his hand around her hip. “Dunno. Thought he might come around and be nice for once. You know, Christmas spirit and all.”

“JJ, hon…” Her voice cracked and she tried choking back a sob, but it still eked out. JJ lifted his head, dried tear streaks down his cheeks as he’d let himself cry when she couldn’t see his face. “Hey. No crying on my account.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just -” She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I’m so fucking angry, JJ. The thought of anyone hurting you - especially your dad - you don’t deserve that.”

“Hm.”

“JJ.”

“Maybe I do.”

“JJ, don’t you fucking dare go there.”

He set his jaw and tucked back into her before continuing. “I said some stuff today I probably shouldn’t have.”

“That doesn’t give him any right to hit you, fucking hell.” Charlie seethed, though she rubbed his back soothingly. “I thought about hitting back.” He mumbled. “Does that scare you?”

“No. He would have deserved it.” She muttered, lips pressed together in a thin line.

JJ’s lips turned up in a small smile and he lifted his head, glancing up at her. “You’re hot when you’re mad,” he tried deflecting. She scowled and tugged him up to kiss him, hard. “Listen.” Another kiss. “I love you. So much.” Another one. “You are so, so, special to me, hon, and you don’t deserve any of that. Not a single second of it.”

As he opened his mouth to argue, she cut him off with another kiss. “Don’t you dare protest, because I won’t listen. You’re the most loyal person I know, J. You deserve the world.”

He kept silent but the corners of his eyes crinkled into a smile and the tips of his ears burned red in embarrassment. “Charlie.”

“No, I’m not done. I feel so safe when I’m with you. Sometimes I get overwhelmed with how much I fucking love you. Always will.” Her kisses turned sweet and she peppered them all over his face until he flinched as she reached his cheekbone, a red mark blooming. “Careful, sweetheart.” He murmured and she pulled back, frowning. “I’m going to get ice and rubbing alcohol, then I want to clean you up. Your knuckles look rough.”

JJ shook his head quickly. “It’s fine, Charlie, I don’t want your mom and dad to -”

“I won’t tell them. Stay here.” She cut him off and kissed him quickly before heading downstairs.

Her dad was whispering to her mom in the kitchen, a deep frown on his face, and stopped abruptly when Charlie rounded the corner. Her mom looked shocked and raised her eyebrows at Charlie. “Charlotte, is it...?”

“Were you eavesdropping?” Charlie asked, affronted on JJ’s behalf.

“I went to go check on him and I overheard. I’m sorry.” Her dad apologized quickly. “We won’t say a word.” He added, cutting her mom off from saying anything else.

“Don’t you dare. He only just opened up to me and I still don’t think I’m getting the whole story.” She grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and paused before heading back upstairs. “Don’t treat him differently, he’ll know. He’ll think I told you and then he won’t trust me, I - just - don’t.” She snapped, then ran back upstairs before her parents could object.

When she returned, JJ had his shirt off and was inspecting a blooming bruise on his ribs in the mirror, frowning as he splayed his hand over it. Charlie gasped and shut the door quickly, crossing the room in a few short strides to hand over the ice pack. “It’s not that bad.” He told her quickly, trying to reassure her. “Just a beer bottle, fists are worse.”

“That’s not...that’s not right, J. They’re not broken, are they?” She asked, reaching out. He let her tenderly prod the bruise, oddly disconnected from the pain under her gentle touch. “I think they’re okay.” She told him, demeanor going professional. “Lay down for me?”

He nodded and did so, letting her wrap the ice pack in a towel and press it gently to his side. Charlie sat next to him then wet a cotton ball with the rubbing alcohol and took his hand, glancing over. “It’s gonna sting.”

“I know. Go for it.” He only let out a low hiss when she swiped the cotton ball across all his knuckles, hand squeezing hers reflexively. “You said you only thought about hitting back.” She pointed out, pressing her lips to the back of his hand. He nodded and looked a little sheepish. “Hit the tree out front.”

“Hm.” She replied, looking closer for splinters, then set the rubbing alcohol aside.

“He’s called me a good kid before.”

“Yeah?”

JJ nodded. “A couple times.” He added vaguely, though he remembered each time clear as day. “But I’m not sure he’s ever said he loves me.”

“I love you.” She frowned and adjusted the ice pack for him, keeping it in place. “I’ll tell you that every second of the day if you need it.”

“I know. But it’s different.” He mused, falling silent again. She didn’t push the topic, knowing she’d never quite understand. “Your mom, she…” He started, getting a little choked up.

“What is it, J?” She asked, combing through his hair again.

“A few days ago, she said it. About me.”

She furrowed her brow slightly. “When?”

“When she was about to lecture you.” He smirked a little and she felt herself relaxing just at the small sign of his usual demeanor. “She was talking about us having a kid, and she said as much as I love JJ…” He trailed off. “I don’t remember the rest. But she said it so easily. I’m not even her kid.”

And my heart doesn’t work like that, JJ thought to himself. He stayed guarded, putting his trust in very few people. It was a miracle that he trusted Charlie so much, after only a short amount of time.

“Doesn’t matter. She still loves you. My dad does too, you know? And Jamie.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “You don’t have to lie, Charlie.”

“I’m serious. Everyone shows it in different ways. My mom made sure to ask your favorite recipes before we came home just so you could have something special over Christmas. My dad will text me with articles to share with you, or a song he thought you’d like, only because you two talked about Led Zeppelin once. Jamie practiced surfing with his friends every single weekend before we came back, just so he could impress you.” She paused, running her thumb gently along his jaw. “Family is family, even if it wasn’t yours from the start.”

When he teared up a little, her eyes went wide, slightly panicking. “Don’t cry, J, please.”

“You can’t say things like that and not expect me to have an emotional response, Charlie.” He teased, sitting up and pulling her in for a deep kiss. She smiled against his lips, holding back a little so she didn’t hurt him. “I mean it, JJ. I’m gonna love you for a long time.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.” He promised sincerely, before drawing her in for another kiss.

_____

After some time, the two made their way downstairs, hand-in-hand, tempted by the smell of dinner cooking. Her mom clapped her hands together with a grin, eyes only flitting over JJ’s cheek for a moment. “Just in time for dinner, you two! JJ, dear, I heard mac and cheese was your favorite, so I put that together with some cornbread and brie stuffed chicken. Oh! And apple pie for dessert.”

JJ scanned over the table with wide eyes, impressed. “This looks incredible, Mrs. Walker, you didn’t have to do all that.”

“Well, we had to do right by our favorite guest.” She smiled and handed him a plate, urging him forward. “There you go, eat up.”

“What happened to your face?” Jamie questioned, without tact.

“James!” Her mother scolded, sending JJ an apologetic smile. He shook his head, ruffling Jamie’s hair. “S’okay. Fell when I was out surfing with my friends.”

Charlie frowned slightly at how easily he covered the lie. Jamie’s jaw dropped, indignant. “You went without me?”

JJ laughed. “Had to take on the big waves for a second, kiddo. I’ll take you tomorrow, alright?”

“For real?” Jamie brightened, his insolence short-lived. “I’m learning how to cutback, I can show you. And you can help me too, I know you’re good at it.”

“For real.” JJ promised, beaming at Charlie. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He dismissed, but was beaming ear-to-ear.

Once they finished dinner and dessert, JJ’s mood was considerably lifted as he realized how truly comfortable he felt around Charlie’s family. “JJ, come help me with the fire?” Her dad asked, pushing away from the table. JJ nodded and followed dutifully. The two built the frame mainly in silence, until JJ shoved a log under the a-frame, arranging the kindling on top.

“Never seen it done that way.” Her dad commented with raised eyebrows, but handed him the matchbox anyways.

“Uh, cuts down on the wood you need to burn. But we can do it your way if you’d like, yours might be better -” JJ started, hurriedly going to rearrange the wood. Her dad caught his arm gently and JJ froze, forcing himself to exhale. “Let’s try it your way, bud, might be better.”

JJ nodded and lit the fire, and her dad whistled in appreciation when it caught quickly, roaring to flame. “I’ll be damned.” Charlie came out, handing both of them a beer, a little hesitant with JJ. He accepted it with a grateful smile, leaning into her when she curled her arm protectively around his waist. “You’re handy with a lot of these things, aren’t you, JJ?” Her dad asked.

“A little. I like working on physical things.”

“I heard you changed the spark plugs on Charlie’s car, I’ve been trying to figure that out for ages. I’m impressed.” He offered an encouraging smile and JJ ran his hand through his hair, grateful it was dark enough to hide his blush. “Yeah, well. Didn’t want something to happen when she was driving, so I took care of it.”

“I appreciate that. You’re good at taking care of her, kid.” Her dad lifted his beer bottle and JJ tapped the neck of the glass against his, grinning once he took a sip. “She’s worth it.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x oc #college jj #jj x charlie #mine #i should wait to post this but #oh well

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harcourtholmesii · 3 years

Text

Light And Shadow

This is a belated post, written for @ connor-sent-by-cyberlife . They had made a list of prompts, and I only just found out about it last night and felt the need to hop in on this train. Sorry for it being late.

Pairings: HankCon (If You Squint)

Warnings: - Swearing - Slave Auctions - Slavery - Implied and Referenced Violence

Words: 1900

Enjoy!

It was a nice place for the kind of shit they did there. Hank didn't actually believe places like this had existed, but now that he was among the crowd and staring up at the stage, he was rather shook.

Hidden at the back of the elegant basement hall, Hank sat as nonchalant as he could, glaring up at the displayed 'stock' as they were shown off for the crowd. On a raised stage, rolled out on a trolley and bound from head to toe, were the remnants of the deviant android populace. Since their failed revolution, and President Warren's order to have all of them exterminated, it had been believed that deviant androids had been made entirely extinct.

The more Hank watched pass by, bought up by those few rich bastards that just wanted to gloat or have a slave, Hank's blood rose. From where he sat, cast in a deep blanket of shadow, he had hoped simply to uncover the underground, illegal auction, but now he was just too conflicted to call it in.

On the one hand; he hated all that these people stood for. Too many of these bastards just wanted something to use until it self-destructed or escaped into a world that hated them. On the other hand, however; if he called it in to the precinct, he was dooming all of the deviants to deactivation.

Hank had been moved by the deviants' cause when the revolution had been underway. It had been that defining moment in Hart Plaza, when the deviant leader, Markus, had held a peaceful protest, even whilst his people were being slaughtered in the camp nearby. They had hoped peaceful dialogue and discussion really could resolve what tensions were between themselves and humanity. And yet, the army had attacked without mercy.

They were slaughtered like fish in a barrel in their frail barricades.

It shook Hank to his core to think about it. And yet, Detroit had recovered quicker than Hank could ever have imagined. CyberLife had withdrawn all androids, save for the few that Kamski had control over, and Hank had lost his partner in the process.

Connor had been determined, and even though Hank could see a change in the android's mechanical-like behavior, he had refused to deviate. Perhaps it was CyberLife's direct control within his programming, or perhaps it was because he had been too afraid to deviate. Hank understood, even if he was terrified to confront Connor on that rooftop.

When Connor had looked up at him with those wide brown eyes, and Hank had said he wouldn't allow Connor to kill Markus, he had watched how those dark, almost clouded eyes had cleared. Suddenly, Connor was made to choose; between what he was made to do, and what Hank was pleading with him to do. Hank was afraid what that choice might be.

He had been relieved when the rifle had been tossed to one side, those wide eyes near to tears. Connor stepped forward, and the two of them had… hugged. Hank was shocked, not expecting the sudden burst of emotion from the android, but had melted into it immediately. He needed to hold him.

He was warm.

When the two of them had returned to the precinct, Hank had been under the impression that Markus' actions had been enough. Instead, when several armed riot officers had entered into the bullpen, guns drawn, he felt his world sinking around him. Connor, for the second time since Hank had met him, expressed fear. Hank had intercepted them, forced them away from Connor, and demanded Connor run. Just get out of the precinct and be safe.

Instead, when he had been knocked to the floor and held at gunpoint, Connor had stepped forward, arms raised in surrender. It had taken half of the department to restrain Hank as Connor was led away with a very human look of fear on his face. And yet, Connor had been granted the moment to speak with Hank one last time.

'Thank you, Hank.' There had been synthetic tears running down Connor's very real, human, face. 'I will miss you, even beyond my deactivation.' It was Connor's way of saying 'goodbye'. Hank had received one of many disciplinary warnings for his behavior, but he didn't care. I have wanted Connor back. I have wanted Connor home.

Now, as he sat in the dark, staring up at a stage lit up with globes of bright, white light, he watched as the next lot of deviants had been rolled in on a cart. The four androids were models he recognized, but the first three were not what had caught his attention.

The fourth, lined up to wait, was an RK800 unit. One of Connor's models. Doe eyes peered into the crowd, resigned and shaken. Hank had to stop himself from pulling out his gun, feeling a great heat in his chest. He was livid.

The first few androids were bought, but he saved what money the precinct had given him for his undercover work; saved it until the RK800 was rolled up and under the bright lights. The deviant turned his face away, and there was a harsh hand to turn it back, to show off the 'cute face'. As the sleazy auctioneer started rattling off the details of the RK800, Hank felt the anger grow, as did the fear.

'A model created for police work.'

'Top of the line.'

'The only one of its kind that we could attain, it is the rarest deviant model here.'

'It was last in the care of the Detroit Police Department.'

Hank was not leaving without that android.

He wasn't letting that RK800, his Connor, slip from his fingers again. Not when he could do something about it. He would call it in, but he hoped that enough of a ruckus would be made for Connor to escape. What mattered now though, was that Connor recognized he was there.

He raised his number.

'That's one for five hundred thousand. Anyone else? Do I hear six hundred? ' To Hank's dismay, another hand rose. I have matched their call. By the time that had reached four million, Hank knew it was a losing battle. The gavel slammed down at last.

'Sold! To our wonderful benefactor in the back! ' Hank's eyes glared over at the figure, noting how Connor's eyes had changed to one of nervous recognition. Stepping up onto stage was one Elijah Kamski, smirking that disgusting smile of his. Hank hated how close he got to Connor, hated how he seemed to throw Hank's disguised self a wide, mischievous grin.

I have called it in.

Police came from all sides, creating a burst of sunlight into the dark hall, as sleazy millionaires and billionaires took off in all directions. Some trying to save their 'merchandise', whilst others abandoned the helplessly bound deviants to destruction. Kamski, the pompous rich bastard he was, remained on the stage.

With guns trained on him, Kamski simply grinned at Hank and Captain Fowler when they approached him from the crowd. Hank kept his eyes on Connor, and when the android met his eyes at last, they widened. They were fearful. They were relieved. They were sad.

'Mister Kamski.' Said fuck hopped off the stage without a care in the world. 'You are aware that this is an illegal gathering, selling illegal merchandise.' Hank seethed at Fowler's words, but he kept himself still.

'Oh, of course. In a way… 'Kamski rounded them, stretching his limbs, nonchalant. 'I was here to do a little investigating myself. I hate to know that my defective and dangerous products were being sold off to the wrong people. ' He brushed nothing off of Fowler's shoulder, acting as if he was still the top dog in the room. By the look of Fowler's face, it seemed that Fowler, indeed, thought that.

'Yes, well, Mister Kamski, we will be removing that android from your care now.'

'Actually, you will not be taking it.'

'Pardon me, Mister Kamski?' Said billionaire chuckled, a deep and amused sound.

'I'm sorry, but if you remember the ruling by the court, I am allowed to keep what androids I want.'

'Not those that you bought illegally!' Fowler yelled. Kamski grinned like the sly dickhead he was. I've turned back to Connor, hopping up onto stage once more.

‘Perhaps, Captain Fowler.’ He started. ‘However, it was the only way I could regain what property belongs to me. I wanted to keep oh so many androids, and they all rightfully belonged to me if I chose to recall them.’ He raised a hand to stroke Connor’s jaw, and Hank felt for the gun in his holster.

Kamski’s dark eyes turned on Hank.

‘In fact, I wanted to gift this to someone. And under certain legal contracts you would hate to wrap your head around, Captain, they would be allowed to keep the deviant if they so wished.’

‘Bullshit!’ Fowler sounded pissed. Hank wasn’t surprised; Kamski was very good at rubbing people the wrong way. ‘And where do you get off doing that?’

'Well, according to the lovely little contracts as dictated by the court, I can do what I want with my own property. I have a couple of copies here. ' I have offered a few sheets of paper to Fowler, who took them aggressively. 'So long as the one who receives my gift signs the papers, they too, may be allowed to own a deviant. My dearest friend, Carl Manfred, has been allowed to keep what androids I have gifted him. '

Fowler huffed, handing the papers to another officer. No doubt he planned on checking them for any kind of loophole, but the more Kamski spoke, the more Hank felt a great hope that Connor would be safe. This Carl Manfred sounded like a decent guy, and he hoped to find his address so that he might visit Connor, just so long as Connor was far away from Kamski.

'Lieutenant Anderson.' Kamski spoke, offering Hank his own set of papers. 'I hope you are ready for the great burden and troubles of looking after your own deviant.' Hank could feel he was going to cry of both frustration and relief. There was a harsh sound from Fowler.

'Anderson, you'll be off the squad if you accept this.'

'Not true.' Kamski practically giggled. 'Actually, I think the lieutenant will be allowed to stay, considering it was he that not only helped to crack the case of deviancy, but he also successfully called you in for this illegal gathering. You do not have the cause to fire him from his work. '

It had been taken near an hour of huffing and puffing from Fowler, but Hank had been granted ownership. And the first thing he did was release Connor from his bindings, pulling the boy close. He didn't know androids could tremble much like a human, but he felt the damp in his shirt from synthetic tears and Connor's body shake with relief.

He ran a hand through those chocolate locks, felt his thirium pump beating warmly within his chest. Despite the fact that Connor was a machine, he felt as much as warm and as much alike as any human victim. Hank was close to breaking.

'I've got you… I've got you. We're goin 'home.'

'Hank…' Connor's voice was broken, but there was a smile to that soft face.

'I… I missed you.'

#dbhlightandshadow #DBH #Detroit: Become Human #RK800 Connor #RK800 #Hank Anderson #Elijah Kamski #HankCon #Hannor #Hank X Connor #Fanfic #Fanfiction #HarcourtholmesII

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satuguro · 4 years

Text

i saw sparks

IN WHICH: in a modern world, zuko finds himself stumbling down the hallway of your apartment building, thinking of all the old memories.

PAIRING: modern au! aged up! zuko x reader

INSPIRED BY: sparks — coldplay, fine line — harry styles

NOTES: i’m feeling sad, so i wrote this. enjoy! <3

zuko had never been an emotional person.

his father taught him to keep his emotions to himself, that boys weren’t supposed to cry. his dad always said that one day, once he took over the family company, emotions would only be a burden. crying was showing vulnerability, and vulnerability was weak. zuko’s family was not weak.

and yet, he ended up falling for you.

in his world full of hatred and anger, you were the ray of sunshine he never knew he needed. you were the type of person to stay up until 4 am to skateboard around the city. you were so expressive and eccentric that zuko couldn’t believe you had gotten along with him.

but you had given him a chance. you called his sarcasm and lack of enthusiasm ‘endearing,’ and you took him under your wing. you brought him to places he’d never been and made him experience adrenaline that made him feel like he could do anything. zuko began to feel alive with you by his side. to his surprise, you felt the same about him.

you started dating after a year of knowing each other. your adventures never stopped, and your love for each other only grew. waking up with you in his arms were little memories that zuko learned to appreciate. he loved listening to you sing at the top of your lungs in the shower or in the kitchen, and how you’d bring him to the roof of your apartment for a spontaneous meal of take out chinese food. zuko loved watching the sunset with you while you both talked about your days.

but as the year went on, he had to learn to miss the things he loved.

zuko knew it was his fault, that he had stormed out of your apartment the day of your argument because he didn’t know what else to do. he had become distant towards you — no more conversations on the roof, no more movie nights. work was slowly taking control of him, and his father’s words always rang in his ears.

no feelings; those will only drag you down. we don’t have room for distractions.

you wanted to help him. you had called into his job and got him laid off for a day because you knew he needed the rest. zuko always knew that you were more observant than you looked. instead of being thankful for the free fay, zuko had blown up on you. he complained that his work life and his home life were different things that you had no business in, even though you told him all you wanted was to help him. you wanted to see him happy again.

“i can’t keep seeing you like this!” you protested, watching him pace in the living room while you stood near the dining table. you had gotten take out from your favorite italian restaurant down the street, but the pasta laid cold on the plate while you both argued. “please,” you pleaded, walking towards him.

his hair fell over his eyes, which held heavy purple bags under them as he stared at you. zuko was breathing heavily from his outburst, but he said nothing as you took his hands into yours. your touch was so gentle. “you deserve to be happy. just like before,” you said quietly, eyes glassy with tears as you silently begged for this argument to end.

zuko shook your hands off of his, anger being the only emotion in his body as he shook his head at your words. “i was never happy,” he stated, not meeting your gaze as your face dropped. zuko turned away from you, hand unlocking the door to your apartment. he didn’t even look back at you. “not with you, not with anyone.”

though he never said it out loud, zuko had broken up with you. you arrived at his place that morning with boxes of his things. you shoved it at his hungover body, and he remembered how he nearly fell over with the strength that came with your actions. zuko wanted to say he was sorry. he wanted to take your hands in his and kiss you and let all his problems spill from his mouth.

but he let you go. you didn’t deserve someone like him.

god, he regretted it. that was the only thought that ran through his mind as he stumbled down the hallway of your apartment building, clearly drunk out of his mind.

months had passed. the last time he had heard of you, you were hanging out with a guy named haru. not that it was zuko’s business in the first place.

sokka had been the one to tell zuko about how you were doing. he was like a brother to you, and while the majority of his ‘updates’ informed him that you were perfectly fine, sokka had left out a lot of details.

like how you weren’t your adventurous self for a whole month and how katara, toph, and suki had to raid your apartment and force you out.

sokka and aang both knew zuko wasn’t any better, but it was hard to tell. zuko kept all his emotions behind locked doors, and he only ever allowed himself to break down when he was alone.

so this was new. the fact that he had gone out to drink his problems away was new. never had he done that before, but zuko supposed there was a first time for everything.

he knocked on your door, keeping himself as steady as he could as to avoid falling into it. zuko felt like crying, laughing, and throwing up all at once — not a good combination, in his opinion.

he had knocked a total of 9 times before your door finally opened.

you were in a large t-shirt that certainly wasn’t yours. your hair was messy and the bunny slippers zuko had given to you for your birthday were on your feet. you looked at him with wide eyes, the shock hitting you before the worry could.

“y/n,” zuko greeted with a lazy grin, trying to lean on the doorway before he missed it. his body fell on the floor, a loud groan leaving his lips at the contact.

“zuko?” you stepped out of your room fully, quickly leaning down to help him up. the feeling of your skin meeting his sent sparks up and down his arms.

you didn’t tell him to go back home. you didn’t yell in his face. instead, you let him into your house and plopped him on the couch, where ‘love, rosie’ was playing on the tv. you left him for a few moments, giving yourself a little pep talk in the kitchen as you got him a glass of water.

“i wanna tell you something,” zuko mumbled shyly as you put the glass of water in his hand. his cheeks were flushed red at the small action, and he reluctantly drank his water.

“that’s new,” you muttered under your breath, making him frown. you sat next to him, keeping a distance from you both as he put his water on the table in front of him.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” zuko said quietly, sheepish eyes finally meeting your gaze as he allowed himself to ramble. “i miss you. a lot—“

“don’t say that,” you cut in, tone cold as you stared at him.

“but i do,” zuko continued, “i really do. i miss it when we’d watch movies until 5 am, when you’d make me pancakes in the morning—“

“stop it.”

“when you’d kiss me and i’d see sparks because i...” zuko’s words died out when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. you were crying, but you didn’t sob. you only let the tears fall as you looked away from him. ever so slowly, he could feel himself sober up a little bit more. “y/n, look at me.”

you didn’t. you only looked at the movie ahead of you.

“please,” zuko pleaded, and when his hand reached out for yours, you pulled it away. his heart snapped into two. “i’ll always look out for you. i— i promise i won’t let you down again.” he knew he was rambling at this point, that his drunken state was making his whole situation worse, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

“you don’t get it, zuko,” you sniffled, angrily wiping your tears away. “you never let me down. not once. but when you said that you were never happy,” you swallowed down the lump in your throat. “you made all our memories together feel like nothing. i just wanted you to be happy, zuko.”

“i’m sorry.” zuko felt tears well up in his eyes as he sniffed quietly, his hand reaching out to you once more. this time, you held it. you looked at him, at the tears running down his cheeks, at the messiness of his hair, at the under eye bags he carried. you looked at all of him, and said nothing as you pulled him into a hug.

“i didn’t mean to,” zuko cried, burying his face into your shoulder. in that moment, zuko let all his emotions out. the bottle that they were once held in did nothing to hold them back as he held you in his arms like it was his last. his tears soaked your shirt, but you did nothing as you covered your face in his shoulder.

maybe you missed him too.

┈┈ 𑁍༅ཾ༚ ┈┈

NOTES: once again, thank you sm for reading!

buy me a coffee here! any likes, reblogs, or donations are appreciated :)

TAGLIST: @beifongsss @the-firebender-girl @astroninaaa @emberislandplayers @aangsupremacy @gogo-is-cooler-than-you @ibelongtotoomanyfandoms

#zuko x reader #zuko smut #zuko imagines #zuko imagine #zuko #avatar: the last airbender #atla imagine #atla

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courtofjurdan · 4 years

Text

One chance part 14

Jurdan College AU - previous chapter

masterlist

A/N: I’m so sorry it has been like 2 month since my last chapter. I have been having tons of issues with my health, and then I tore the meniscus in my knee and I am about to have surgery on it. Then my classes started for me so I am busy doing that so this kinda got put on the backburner. But now, that I can’t do much, I have time to write. It’s a crappy excuse but please forgive me.

Cardan and Jude are getting ready for Locke’s and Nicasia’s Halloween party. Most of the college is invited so Jude didn’t feel too bad about going.

Cardan had told her to stay home, being mindful of her condition, but Jude insisted that she needed to get out of her dorm.

Jude is dressed as a queen. Wearing a deep blue dress a bit too tight in the midriff area with a golden cloak, black high heels, and to top it off a golden crown.

Cardan is dressed as her king. He has black pants, deep blue doublet, golden cloak, and also an identical golden crown like Jude’s.

Jude was in the bathroom at Cardan’s dorm finishing curling her hair when Cardan walked in. He took one look at her and wrapped his arms around her, placing his hands on her swollen stomach.

“You look ravishing, my queen.” He said with a smile.

Jude rolled her eyes. She looked at him through the mirror as she said, “You look rather dashing yourself, my king.”

He turned her around and captured her lips. He tried to convey how thankful he was for her in that kiss. How much he loved her.

“Are you ready to go?”

Jude nodded and he held out his arm for her to take. She grabbed her purse and on out they went.

Locke and Nicasia have rented out the entertainment center at the uni for this party. Which was huge.

Everyone was supposed to come dressed up in a costume to dance, sing, drink, and have fun. There is no doubt Locke could throw an epic party.

When they arrived the place was already full. Music was blaring. People were dancing. Some were already tipsy. Cardan looked around and saw the drunk station.

“I’m going to get a drink. Would you want me to get you some punch? Lemonade? Water?”

“Lemonade would be great. I’ll be over here.” She motioned in the general direction of some tables and chairs laid out.

Cardan went to grab them drinks so she went to a table and waited for Cardan to come back. She had been sitting there for about five minutes when no other but Nicasia Undersea showed up in front of her.

“If it isn’t Cardan’s little whore.” Nicasia had an evil smirk across her face. Eyes tainted with malicious intent.

Jude looked up at her and glared, “Go away. I’m sure there is someone else here better to bother.”

“Oh. But sweet Jude, there is no one better than you to piss off.” She paused. “Why are you here anyway? It’s not like you can drink?” She motioned to my stomach.

“I’m here for Cardan. Letting him have a night of fun with me.”

“Aw how sweet. His pregnant girlfriend here for moral support. You’re pathetic, Jude. You are holding him back from things in life. You and your precious little baby are just his baggage now.” Indicating me and the baby.

“Go mind-” Jude got cut off by Cardan walking up and giving her her drink.

“Is anything wrong?” Cardan asked with a smile promising death if Nicasia said yes.

Luckily, “No, not at all. Just came to tell Jude her costume is amazing. Bye.” Nicasia left.

Cardan turned around to Jude, “What was that about?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to start drama.”

“Of course she did.”

But Jude couldn’t help but think, is she and the baby a burden to Cardan. He’s young. He obviously wasn’t expecting to have kids at his age which is 20. He still thinks about going out and getting drunk, much like what he’s doing now. But Jude won’t mention anything to him. Jude is going to let him still be a college kid at a Halloween party one last time before he has to grow up.

He drank his cup which probably had some kind of wine in it, and held out his hand to Jude, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Jude winked at him. “I don’t dance.”

Cardan winked right back. “I think you will now.” And she heard the song Hey Jude by the Beatles play.

Jude had to hold in the warm sensation to her eyes. Cardan knew she likes this song and put the effort in to get it played tonight. She smiled at him and took his hand.

He took her to the dance floor and swayed with her. Jude leaned her head against his chest, her stomach just barely starting to get in the way.

“I love you, Cardan.” Jude pulled back and looked at him with admiration.

Cardan put a piece of hair behind her ear. “I love you too. I can’t wait for the future ahead of us.” He let his hand trail down to rest on the side of her bump.

After their dance, Jude’s feet were killing her in those high heels. She went back to the table they were at earlier and took them off. She told Cardan to go have fun that she would be around. He left her with a quick kiss to the cheek.

Soon Taryn and Ghost showed up. Taryn as Cinderella and Ghost was Prince Charming. He probably didn’t dress up like that by choice.

Jude was on her phone, when Taryn showed up. “Jude! Hi!”

“Hey Taryn, hi Ghost. I like your costumes.”

Ghost said, “Thank you,” at the same time Taryn said, “Where’s Cardan? Did you guys match?”

“I told him to go have fun. Let him drink and let loose. And yes, we are matching. I’m a queen and he’s a king.”

“That’s cute. Well, if you need me, come find me!”

Jude just nodded. Over the couple hours Jude was there, she got up to go to the bathroom a couple times and then the music was becoming too much and the migraine started to settle in so she decided it would be best to just go out to the back where there was a nice quiet fenced in yard area and sit there for a little bit.

As she was sitting a wave of nausea started to overtake her.

Not now. Not now. Not now.

But she couldn’t help it. She ran to the nearest secluded area and threw up in a bush. Liliver, dressed in a spy costume, ran to her and started rubbing her back.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Do you want me to go get you some water?”

Jude nodded.

Liliver went inside and saw something she never wanted to see. She saw Cardan about to kiss another girl. He was leaning his head down, but before their lips made contact Liliver yelled over the noise.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING??!!”

Cardan stopped and looked at her. “I- just- um-”

“Your girlfriend is outside throwing her guts up and what are you doing? Kissing other girls?”

What Liliver didn’t know was that Jude came in and heard her last statement.

In a small, tired voice, Jude breathed, “Cardan, really?”

Cardan didn’t respond. Jude took one last look at him and turned around and left, Liliver on her heels. Tears were already streaming down her face.

“Give me your keys, Jude. I’m driving you to my dorm.”

Jude obliged without a sound. She got in the front seat as Liliver got on the drivers side. She looked over at Jude and wiped her face, saying, “Don’t cry, Jude. He’s not worth your tears.”

Jude began to get her mask put back on. Her mask of steel. “Why would he do this? After the future we’re about to have?” She laid a hand on her stomach.

Liliver started the car. “Because he’s stupid. He doesn’t realize the blessings he’s given. He takes them for granted.”

They were silent the rest of the drive. Liliver made sure Jude ate, started her a hot bath, and made sure she got rest.

Liliver has seen Jude really down. She’s determined not to see herself in that state again. She wants to make sure she takes care of herself, now more than ever because of the baby. Her having heightened emotions right now, make it hard for her to keep it together.

She stayed with Liliver for a couple of days. Well, more like Liliver made her stay with her for a couple of days. She did classes from her dorm now, being way too tired and the migraines bothering her too bad.

Cardan tried to text and call but Jude just ignored him. She couldn’t stand to see his number. Was he drunk? Yes. Was he in his right mind? Probably not. But is that a good excuse? She didn’t know.

It’s been a couple of days since Halloween. And she’s 16 weeks pregnant. And her body just can’t take the stress of all this.

Today, November 2, she had to go into class to give her teachers some work. She was stressing out about it. Not because of her work. No, she knows she did good on that. She was afraid of seeing Cardan.

Her body wasn’t used to getting up early anymore but she still got up and pushed on. She did see Cardan but they didn’t talk and he didn’t make eye contact.

At lunch, she decided to go back to her dorm instead of eating. To be honest, she didn’t have the energy to eat.

She went back to her last class that started at two. She was dizzy and not feeling well at all. Her professor asked her if she was alright, but of course, Jude said she was fine.

Class dismissed and she grabbed her stuff. She started walking back to the open front doors when all of a sudden the largest wave of dizziness overtook her. She dropped her stuff and put her hand on the wall, willing herself not to fall over.

Her vision started to darken, and the last thing she heard was someone’s voice calling her name from the other side of the hallway before she fell over into oblivion.

Next Chapter

masterlist

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#jurdan pregnancy #jurdan fic #jurdan fanfic #jurdan #jude x cardan #cardan x jude #jude duarte #queen jude #cardan greenbriar #king cardan #tfota fanfic #tfota #The Folk of the Air #the wicked king #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #abigail writes

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your-daily-dose-of-fandoms · 4 years

Note

May i have an angsty kyojuro x fairy which can take a human form? Something like that fairy helped him out to train during his childhood days, and after kyo became a slayer, she decided to only watch him from afar. Then on the train arc, she showed up again to save kyo. Sorry for such a request. Thank u!

Oh my god thank you! This was such a cool request and interesting to write! I'm sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy!💙🌌

Rengoku x Fairy! Reader

Live

For his whole life, Rengoku had felt like someone was watching him, always there, never leaving him alone. At first, it made the shivers go down his spine, unnerving feeling of being watched being the only thing in his mind for years, as he did not know if the someone watching him wanted to distract or protect him, but eventually, he had gotten used to it.

Now, he found comfort from it. Like he never was truly alone. People came and went, but never once, the feeling that someone was with him, taking care of him, left his mind. At times, when he had hit the bottom, you were there to comfort with your voiceless presence, and at times when he had reached the top, you were there to celebrate it with him. He was embarrassed to admit it, but he had picked a habit of talking to himself, thinking that maybe, perhaps, it wasn't just his imagination, and someone was actually there, listening him to give away the burden from his heart.

Of course he did not tell others, they would have thought that he had gone crazy, but he knew that other pillars had picked similar habits too to cope with the pain and burden the title of a pillar carried with. Obanai talked to his snake, Muichiro to the sky, but no one to others as it was too heavy burden to be told. Everyone knew, but no one mentioned it.

At times, when Rengoku would wake up, he'd see a girl from his dreams in the corner of his room, as by a blink of an eye, she would disappear. Those happened seldomly, and as time passed, it happened even more rarely.

He was not scared, instead, he found himself feeling rather longing, as if he was missing something, or if he had forgotten something. He could not just remember what.

He mostly brushed it off, and after few days, he would always forget it as if it had never even happened. He kept on being enthuastic, never stopped smiling, an advice he had heard from someone very important to him, as he shone in the top of the demon slayer corps, doing what he felt was right to do. Protecting the weak was his duty. That was the eay things were, until that one faithful day.

You watched Kyojuro fight with the upper demon moon, plenty of tears running down your tiny cheeks, as you let out a loud cry. You were praying, to whatever gods there were, for Kyojuro to win, as you felt your heart pound in your chest, painfully breaking everytime you saw Kyojuro getting hit, like a knife twisting in your chest. You felt like you couldn't breath, like there was a heavy rock on your chest, slowly bringing you down, as you were watching him from afar, as you had promised to yourself.

You had promised not to bother him, to leave his life once and for all, as he was better off without you. Without someone to just make his life more complicated than it already was. But you did not know how much longer you could keep that promise, as you could not just sit and watch him, your love, the one you had trained, to get painfully beaten up to his death. You were not supposed to be seen, nor heard, it was against the rules, and you had already broken them for showing yourself to him and training him, but you did not want to follow the rules, if they were to hurt someone innocent, if they were the wrong thing to follow.

You had been given one chance to fix your mistakes, and you threw that chance away, when you saw Kyojuro getting punched through his stomach. You let out a painful scream, grief pouring out of your parted lips with an abrupt sobs, your hand reaching for the one and only man you've ever loved. Without a single doubt, you let your body grow, your muscles growing, and your body transforming the one of a young woman, instead of the small one. Your wings slowly disappeared from your back, falling apart in the air by the wind, as you let out a gasp, not having done the transformation in years.

You quickly raised your gaze, your skin gleaming in the sunrise, as you saw the demon running away, and Kyojuro falling, his body forcefully hitting the train. You cried, jolting up from your disheveled heap, stumbling with your feet as you had not gotten used to being so big, as you ran to your beloved one, seeing the life slowly drain out of him, as he was talking with the boy with a scar on his forehead.

"Kyojuro!!" You let out a painful cry from top of your lungs, as you forcefully pushed the boy away, grabbing Kyojuro's hand and putting it on your cheek. The boy was alarmed, ready to draw out his blade, but when he picked up the scent, he was shocked to notice that it was the one, that had hovered around Kyojuro everytime Tanjiro was near. He did not know what to do. He wanted to push you away, but after smelling the storm of dozens of emotions inside you, he decided to stay far, and watch what was about to happen.

"Kyojuro.." You once again cried out, your voice more quiet, almost like a whisper, now pressing your forehead against his, his hand still pressed against your cheek by your hand, as the flame pillar's hazy eyes focused on you, and his eyes widened.

"I.. I thought you were just a dream..!" He weakly shouted, breaking into a fits of bloody coughs, the memories of you now flooding in his mind with such an intense force, that he was taken back of how he was even able to forget. You shook your head, your hot tears falling down on his face, as you bit your lip.

"No.. I was always here.. I had to.. I couldn't-", You started slowly letting his hand fall down to his side, trying to talk in the middle of your sobs, as you parted afar from him once again, ripping his uniform apart, and gently hovering your hands over his bloody skin. You flinched at the wound when you saw it, the tears falling from your eyes with much more force than before.

"I couldn't leave you.. Not now.. Or never. Please, just as I told you to.. Please never stop smiling-", You finished, taking in a shaky inhale, and pressing your hands against the wound, letting out a whimper as Kyojuro grunted in pain underneath you. You needed to focus, as you closed your eyes, starting to whisper a spell that you knew by your heart. You didn't care if the fairies wouldn't take you back. You'd throw away your faith, just to keep him safe, he was everything you'd ever had after all. And after all these years, you wanted to live, not just survive. You knew what you were fighting for, and you were ready to give your life for it.

Tanjiro watched as your hands started to glow, the light illuminating on your face, the color of Kyojuro's skin coming back, as the color drained away from your cheeks. You were maniacally muttering incoherent words underneath your breath, your eyes closed, as it looked like a life was sucked out of you by every word.

"No..! You are killing yourself!" Tanjiro realized and let out a shout, but you did not stop, as you flashed a reassuring smile at him whilst repeating the string of unknown words.

After a while, the glow slowly disappeared, leaving your hands burning from the power of the spell. Your eyes rolled upwards as you fell flat next to Kyojuro, losing your conciousness, and the vision of yours turning black. With a last breath you took, you felt like a heavy burden had been lifted off from your shoulders, as you knew you had done it. You had save the one you love.

Rengoku walked in circles in front of Shinobu's butterfly estate's infirmary, his face in his hands, as the thoughts were running through his head. It had taken time, but he had finally connected the puzzle from the hazy flashbacks, and solved the mystery called Y/N L/N.

Currently, he was waiting for Shinobu to come out and give him her report, as you had not awoken since that day. You had been immediately brought to Shinobu after the train incident, but Shinobu, being as surprised herself had no idea who- or what, you were. She could only tell that you were still breathing, your heart still beating in your chest, but no other signs of you being alive had been given. Shinobu was afraid that you had fallen into coma.

Rengoku was brought out of his thoughts as there was a sudden thud heard and several glass bottles falling, breaking at the very moment they reached the hard ground. A string of curse words and yelling could be heard, and Rengoku immediately sprunt to the door, swinging it open with a force.

What he saw, left him speechless.

You were laying on the ground, next to the bed in the middle of glass shards, with panicked look in your eyes, as you were looking around the room with prey-like eyes, trying to get away from Shinobu who was trying to calm you down. You were repeating "I can't transform", over and over again, as you seemed to have trouble with breathing. That was, until your eyes landed on Rengoku. You let out a gasp, jolting up from the pile of glass shards, not caring that you were bleeding, as Shinobu raised her gaze to look at Rengoku as well.

You wanted to run, you wanted to run and jump into his arms, be enveloped into his bear hug, but a seed of doubt grew in your mind, as you felt paralyzed. He did not even remember you.

"Y/N..", Rengoku let out a silent whisper almost as if fearing that you would disappear at any given moment, but you heard it. And hearing him to say your name, ever so gently, made you move.

You ran, you ran faster than ever in your life before, as Rengoku opened his arms, requesting you in a hug, which you gladly accepted. You let out a laugh mixed with cry, as your vision started to blur, as the hug felt so right. Oh, how you have been waiting for this moment, longing it with all your heart, as Rengoku let out a laugh, repeating your name this time with more confidence. He picked you up and twirled you around, pressing your forehead against his, his signature smile shown on his face. You cupped his cheeks.

"How did I forget you? How did I not remember?" He asked, and you smiled sadly at him.

"It's my fault.." You told and brushed his cheek with your thumb, and he leant on the touch.

"I removed your memories of me", You continued, feeling so overwhelmed by the fact that after years and years of waiting, you were finally coming back to your loved one.

"But don't worry", You started again.

"I won't ever leave you again"

#kny x reader #rengoku kyojurou x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #demon slayer rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #tanjirou kamado #tanjiro kamado #kimetsu no yaiba tanjirou #demon slayer tanjirou #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer scenarios #kny #kny scenarios #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios

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sixqueendom · 4 years

Text

New Fanfic: If Only You Would Listen, Chapter 1

So, after having a few requests to, I’ve decided to post my new fic on here as well as AO3. If you would prefer to read on AO3, I have included the link below! No real warnings for this one. Just the usual angst I'm sure you've grown accustomed to with my fics if you’ve read any of my previous work!

A huge thank you to Phoebe (@theatergirl06), Lilac (@timetoriseabove) and Blue (@pen-and-a-microphone) for beta-reading this fic! You guys are the best!

AO3 Link

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Kitty decided she had had enough. Everything was becoming overwhelming. The home she shared with the five other Queens suddenly felt overbearing and overly dominated by the others, so much so that she felt like she didn’t belong there anymore. Like she was an outcast. Sidelined. She didn’t feel like a priority to any of them, more a burden. An afterthought.

The truth was, Kitty was fed up with being mollycoddled by Jane. She was fed up of being treated like she was a child. But most of all, she was fed up of walking into a room, only for the lively chatter to descend into quietness, the other women refraining from talking openly for fear the topic might upset or offend her. They’d never told her that, but she knew. She was, after all, the vulnerable one in their eyes. The liability.

She appreciated Jane’s love and care towards her, she really did. It was nice to finally feel like someone genuinely cared about her, after a childhood with inattentive parents and ultimately being raised by her father’s negligent stepmother, the Dowager Duchess. For once, she felt wanted and loved. But as much as she appreciated it, Jane’s motherly care was smothering. Suffocating. Jane had always had a desperate longing to be a mother, having been robbed of the chance with her own son. So, naturally, with Kitty being the youngest, she projected all that energy onto her. But for Kitty, it was all too much. She didn’t feel she had any real independence.

Eventually, she started to realise she was being excluded from conversations.

She’d accepted it at first. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear it. The conversations would just stir up old memories and rip off the superficial plaster she’d put on those wounds. That was, until she realised she was slowly losing her voice within the group, her right to speak for herself. Instead, the Queens were doing it on her behalf, assuming they knew what was best. Assuming they knew what she would say.

Last week, the Queens had all been invited to a podcast interview with an up and coming theatre critic, who had recently seen the show. The critic had analysed and dissected each of their individual songs and probed them for more details. When it came to Kitty’s song, she immediately saw the concerned faces of the others, like they anticipated a breakdown. Much to her annoyance, Anne butted in halfway through her response to a question. After that, Kitty noticed the subtle actions of the others: the critic saw it as casual banter, but it was really just a cover-up for the tougher questions regarding her past, an effort to keep things light-hearted in an attempt to stop it being so upsetting. What they didn’t realise was that Kitty had recounted her previous life so many times that, although still arguably painful to recall, it didn’t provoke the heightened emotions the Queens were probably expecting. She was tougher than that. Yet, by the end of the interview, Kitty felt like she hadn’t really contributed anything.

A couple of nights later, there was a small incident at stage door when Kitty was approached by two young girls. As she happily signed their programmes, one of the girls piped up excitedly.

“I can’t wait to hear your next interview on Saturday! I’m going to send a question in for you to answer!”

Kitty frowned, but quickly concealed her confusion with a laugh. “Yeah, you should totally do that! I’ll try my best to answer as many as i can!”

On the Tube home, Kitty queried the conversation. “What’s this about an interview this weekend?”

Anne gasped. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you! We’ve got an interview with a theatre magazine on Saturday. They are also hosting a little Q&A session with the fans. Should be fun.”

Kitty leant back in her seat, going quiet. When were they actually going to tell her if she hadn’t prompted?

The next evening, when Kitty came downstairs to find the Queens huddled around the kitchen, seemingly in a deep conversation without her, it was the final straw. Right on cue, as soon as she walked in, the mood immediately changed and, like a flick of a switch, a hush fell over the room as the discussion dropped away. It always felt like she was disrupting them. Like she was gatecrashing a party. Uninvited and unwanted.

Kitty glanced from one Queen to another.

“What are you all talking about?” It was an innocuous enough question. She kept her voice light, casual. There was no need at this point to get tense and uptight.

Anna, in one corner, gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Nothing important. Just about that silly interview we have tomorrow.”

The interview with the magazine. The interview that she was also involved in.

Kitty blinked. “What about it?”

She caught Cathy giving a nervous glance across the room to Anna, her hands firmly cupped around her coffee mug as she leant against the kitchen counter. Kitty could sense the atmosphere in the room growing tense. After all, they weren’t stupid. They could tell where this was heading.

Anne gave a shrug. “Just about what kind of questions we think they’ll ask. Just...boring stuff really.”

Here we go. Trying to assure her she wasn’t missing out on anything. That it wasn’t important enough for her voice to be included.

“It didn’t sound boring,” Kitty leant against the doorframe. “Sounds like a good idea, actually. Always best to be prepared for whatever they throw our way.” She was still maintaining her casual tone, but she could feel her patience being tested.

Jane, as always, was the first to get flustered, sensing that things were starting to head south and wanting to avoid confrontation. “Look,” she held up her hands. “Why don’t we just talk about this later when-”

“When what?” Kitty snapped. “When I’m back upstairs in my bedroom? When I’m out of earshot and can’t hear what you’re really talking about?”

Jane blinked. She didn’t know how to respond. Catherine bowed her head, staring at the lines of her hands. Across the table, Anne visibly squirmed in discomfort.

Kitty smirked. She’d caught them red-handed and now they didn’t know what to say. There was nowhere to hide. She raised an eyebrow expectantly, looking around the room for a response.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Have I made things a bit uncomfortable?”

This tense confrontation had come as a surprise for them. Out of them all, Kitty was largely overlooked, usually the quietest and the most reserved of the group. Sweet in nature and often quick to comply, she was the last one they’d expect to be interrogated by. But it was becoming clear that she was on the offence. Quite frankly, Kitty had reached the end of her tether. She wouldn’t tolerate being made to feel like a child, like an inconvenience, any longer. Whether it was the Queens’ intention or not, it still hurt. She still felt like she didn’t matter, that her words were worthless.

Finally, Cathy took a deep breath. “What is this all about, Kit?” Her words sounded so feeble. She wasn’t stupid - she knew exactly what was going on here - but she felt the need to break the awkward silence.

Her attempt only made Kitty scoff. “You all know exactly what this is about. I’m sick of this!” She yelled, her voice increasing in volume.

Jane bit her lip, the harsh tone of Kitty’s voice packing a sting that she really wasn’t accustomed to. Not from her sweet Kitty. She was trying to hold back tears, startled by this sudden outburst and hostility. Realising her discomfort, Catherine squeezed her hand under the table.

“Do I really not matter?” Kitty lowered her voice again, trying to keep composed. “Because sometimes I wonder if you’d all be better off without me!”

Anne looked up at that comment, hurt and panic in her eyes. “That’s not true! Of course you matter! Of course we want you here!”

“Then why don’t you ever include me?!” she cried, unable to conceal her trembling voice, despite her resolve not to cry. Crying would prove to them that she was volatile. It would justify their actions. “Why am I always the one treated like a child and left out of everything?”

“Kit, we’re not doing this to hurt you. We’re doing this to protect you and to stop you getting upset-” Anna started.

“See, that’s just it, isn’t it? You all treat me like I’m some kind of porcelain doll that might fall and break. Don’t think I don’t notice you acting like you’re walking on eggshells when I’m around and pandering to my wishes like I’m a kid! I hate it!” Her frustration mounting, Kitty slammed her hand against the doorframe, making Jane visibly jump.

Catherine, remaining as composed as ever, thought quickly, trying to desperately diffuse the situation before it got the chance to escalate any further. “Kitty, why don’t you sit down and we can talk about this rationally?”

The suggestion only made Kitty laugh. “Oh, so now you want me to sit down and talk?”

She shook her head. “I’m sick and tired of being made to feel insignificant. Like I don’t matter. Because isn’t that what you say in the show? I think she’s the least relevant Katherine.” She changed her tone, trying to mimic the other Queens. ‘Oh, we can’t talk about that in front of Katherine, it’ll only make her upset’ Well, guess what? I want you to stop invalidating my opinions and my words, just because the topic of discussion might hurt me!”

“Kit, you know we don’t really mean that when we say that line in the show!” Cathy insisted.

“Well, it certainly feels like it!”

“We didn’t realise you felt like this…” Anna mumbled.

“Because you never thought to ask!” erupted Kitty, exasperated. “You were all so busy trying to keep me sheltered away that you never once thought to ask! You don’t want my opinion on anything! Precious little Katherine can’t think for herself and make her own choices and decisions! Why don’t you let me make up my own mind on whether a topic is too sensitive or not? I can always walk away, can’t I?”

“Like that other night at stage door. I was made to look so stupid because I was oblivious! I can’t believe a fan knew before I did! So, when were you all going to decide to tell me about the interview, hm? If it wasn’t for that girl mentioning it, I’d probably still be in the dark!”

“That was my fault!” Anne admitted, putting her hands up in surrender. “I genuinely forgot to tell you! Anna even mentioned it in the morning and I still forgot. I’m sorry.”

This admission from Anne seemed to soften Kitty slightly, her shoulders relaxing. It put the tiniest doubt in her head: maybe she was overthinking this all? Seeing Kitty relax a little and contemplate what Anne had said, Jane took the opportunity to try and reason with her and further dampen her anger. “Look, maybe you’re right. We’ve been unfair not including you. But none of us have done this to intentionally hurt you, love. You must know that. Neither do any of us see you less of an adult-”

“But Jane, you make me feel like a kid all the time! The constant prompting of what time I’ll be home when I go out, the constant fussing, it’s just too much! I’m constantly made to feel like I am incapable of doing anything for myself. I’m just as capable of being independent as Anne is, and you certainly don’t hover over her shoulder all the time!”

“I just like to make sure you’re okay…” Jane’s voice had gone quiet, almost a whisper.

“Well, you know what, Jane? It’s suffocating! You need to face up to the fact that trying to mother me isn’t going to bring back Edward!”

The words cut through Jane like a knife right to the heart. The others watched as the woman crumpled in front of them, before fleeing upstairs to the confines of her bedroom. Catherine pushed her chair back and marched up to Kitty like a protective lioness, pinning her against the fridge.

“That is quite enough! Jane has done nothing but show you love and care, which is much more than any of your true family did for you. And this is how you repay her? You don’t deserve it. If you want to stop being treated like a child, you need to buck up your ideas and try and show some respect and gratitude. You should be ashamed of yourself, Katherine.” At that, she stormed off to console her friend.

Although Kitty had to admit that she’d regretted the words as soon as they’d come out of her mouth, she was determined to stand her ground. If she crumbled now, this whole confrontation was pointless. She looked to the three remaining Queens.

After a long pause, Anna approached her, her jaw clenched, stone-faced. “You know, maybe you’re right, Kitty. Maybe we would be better off without you.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of a kitchen chair and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind her. Anne and Cathy flinched.

Having long abandoned her mug of coffee, Cathy folded her arms. “If you wanted to be treated more like an adult, perhaps you should have thought about approaching this like one. We could have had a civilised talk, instead of this mess.” With a disappointed shake of her head, she too strode out. As she passed the table to leave, she cast an apologetic look to Anne.

Now, it was just the two of them. The two cousins. Sitting there at the table, Anne was bewildered. She hadn’t expected such an outburst, especially not from Kitty. She’d never thought her capable of causing so much upset, to get so angry. She suddenly felt like she’d lost a good friend. As quiet once again fell over the room, Anne wondered if she’d ever really known Kitty at all.

She was also consumed with guilt. They were so close, and yet, she hadn’t realised that what they’d been doing had proved so hurtful to her own cousin. What’s more, Kitty had never confided in her. There had never been any hint that she was feeling this way.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Anne mumbled, finally lifting her head to look at her cousin in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt like this?”

Kitty turned her face away. She was just so disappointed in them all. She felt utterly let down by the very people she trusted the most.

“Anna didn’t mean what she said…” Anne made a pitiful attempt to show Kitty she was on her side. “She just upset-”

Tears pricking at her eyes, Kitty clenched her fists. But all the fight had gone out of her.

“Well, now you all know how I feel.”

Kitty whirled around and sought the refuge of her bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed as the sobs overcame her. Suddenly, all the fire in her belly was extinguished, replaced by a hollow emptiness. Now she realised the enormity of what she’d done, the potential consequences of her actions. Things had spiraled out of control, her words had become ammunition created by her pent-up frustration. She had just been so desperate for change. How long was she expected to tolerate it all? She feared if she’d waited much longer, her voice would be silenced altogether. She might as well just walk out the door. Now, consumed with the horrible dark thoughts that shrouded her as she cried into her pillow, she started to take the thought seriously. She didn’t fit here and the Queens now despised her. Seeing the disgust in Aragon’s face and Anna’s clear contempt said it all. Maybe she needed to prove it to herself, not them. To prove that she was capable of looking after herself, like she insisted? Being independent.

She lifted herself from the bed, grabbed her rucksack from the wardrobe and blindly stuffed some clothes in, her vision still blurry with tears. She checked the contents of her purse: her bank card and £60 - it would be enough for now. As she fumbled for some essential items she thought she’d need, her hand fell on a polaroid photo - a black and white picture, taken of them all on stage after their first performance together. They all looked so happy, so united. Now, she’d ruined all of that. Yet, something made her take it with her, slipping it into the zip pocket of her bag. Just because they hated her, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t miss them. Lastly, she picked up her phone, staring at the lockscreen photo of her and Anne for a second before putting it back onto her bedside table. She didn’t really have a use for it now.

You know, maybe you’re right, Kitty. Maybe we would be better off without you.

After all, she was of course, the least relevant Katherine. They wouldn’t want to talk to her now.

At that, she tiptoed downstairs. She was relieved to see the kitchen was empty. Helping herself to a few biscuits, pieces of fruit, and granola bars, she took one last look as she slipped out of the back door.

And, just like that, Kitty disappeared into the night.

#six fanfiction

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alistairmoonshine · 4 years

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My Best Was Not Good Enough

TITLE: My Best Was Not Good Enough

AUTHOR/ARTIST: @alistairmoonshine

PROMPT DAY #: Day #4 Hurt/comfort

SUMMARY: "If Life could give me one blessing it would be to take you out of it," Those words would ring through Jaskier's mind for over a year as he tried to learn and deal with a life away from Geralt.

WORD COUNT (if applicable): 9316

BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Netflix

TRIGGERS/WARNINGS: Jaskier gets drunk, he kinda almost dies? Not really sure if that would be triggering or anything. Also this is 19 pages so it isn’t short

RATING: E

ADDITIONAL NOTES: @geraskierweek

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands,” those words echoed through Jaskier’s mind as he felt himself tear up as he tried to choke back the sobs. He sniffed and fidgetted,

“Yes, well I’ll… I’ll get the rest of the story from someone else,” Jaskier murmured back and gave one last look at Geralt before he was turning and walking away and down the path. Once out of sight, Jaskier felt his body wrack with sobs and he fell to his knees crying in loud choking sobs. He cried so hard he felt bile rise and he vomited onto the ground as his body wretched loudly.

How could this have happened? 22 years… 22 fucking years he spent following Geralt in the most dangerous of places. 22 years of singing the praises of a man who was so unlovable and yet he had tried to change the view of every single person on the continent. Granted, that didn’t always happen but he had noticed the changes over the years. People were less likely to kick Geralt out of town. Sometimes they came to him willingly with problems. Maybe not ones he could always fix but they sure came to him. All because Jaskier sang Geralt's praises.

What did Geralt do to thank him? He yelled at him and made Jaskier feel as if he was nothing but a burden on Geralt. First, the man had said he was a horrible traveling companion and now this? It was almost too much. At that thought, Jaskier stood and took a deep breath as he tried to tamp down any feelings of remorse. No, only anger would blaze within his heart now. Not after what Geralt had done. Oh no…

Geralt had heard the sobs and the retching but he didn’t move from his spot. It was too painful to have Jaskier near. He cared for the bard and had always done so, but it was better if they were separated. Witchers don’t make emotional connections. That was what he was taught and he had made one with Jaskier even if it was only friendship. Geralt cocked his head when he heard the retching stop and the sound of Jaskier stumbling to his feet as he sighed and sniffed up the last of his tears. That made Geralt relax slightly, ‘Good,’ he thought to himself. ‘Now he can move on from this,’ that was all what Geralt wanted of course. For Jaskier to move on and live a happy normal life. Not one full of heartache and pain. Not one where you didn’t know if you would eat or sleep in a comfy bed. Jaskier deserved oh so much more than a witcher’s life could give him.

~ ~ ~

A year had passed and Geralt had finally found Ciri. They were on their way to the broken down ruins of Kaer Morhen. It would have to do if Geralt was going to train Ciri to become just like him. She was young, and impressionable but also fierce and her scream seemed to wrack anyone within a mile radius. Thankfully, he had only experienced that scream once in the six months they had been together.

“Are we almost there yet?” Her trill of a voice rung out on the large gelding she rode next to Geralt who grunted lightly and looked towards her,

“Almost.” He said softly as he patted Roach gently on the nethers. “A week’s more ride. I got word to Vesemir and he will be there to meet us,” Geralt stated and Ciri groaned ever so loudly as she leaned against the black horse.

“A week? You know we would have made it a lot sooner if you would have just followed a straight and narrow path there. You keep weaving us in the forests and small back waters towns to kill imaginary beasts.”

“They aren’t always imaginary. I killed two werewolves and a griffin within the last month,” he said as he picked up the coin pouch and shook it at her lightly, “you wouldn’t be eating or have new clothes if it wasn’t for me killing,”

“You could do for some new clothes,” she replied snottily as she turned away from him and stiffened up. Geralt rolled his eyes again at her and kicked Roach closer before he grabbed her reins and pulled the gelding so they were face to face,

“Take notes. If you are to defeat Nilfgaard and come back as the rightful queen of Cintra you will be doing exactly what I am doing,” he hissed lightly, “you will become strong, your magic will be honed in and you will learn to control it much better. Cirilla you are a powerful and fierce little girl. You just lack the common skills. Calanthe can take most of that blame but we will right it, got it?” Ciri sneered and kicked to try and get away as she made a face at Geralt,

“Don’t take my grandmother’s name in vain you… you…” She didn’t know what to say so she huffed and turned away from Geralt who let go with a sigh.

“Don’t come crawling into my bedroll when you are freezing at night then,” though his words held no malice or truth. He actually loved having the small 13 year old curled against his chest and sometimes she would wrap her hand around his shirt or knot it in locks of silver for a bit of comfort as they slept and huddled close to keep warm. 13 was the age of marriage but Geralt did not see Ciri in that way at all. No, this was his adopted daughter almost.

She was young, and innocent and Geralt had 90 years on her. So, he would comfort the young teen and try to teach her the best that he could. Even if it was only for a little bit after all.

~ ~ ~

The year was a blur to Jaskier. He spent most of his time drunk off his ass and singing bawdy tunes in lively taverns. The man was bedding anything and anyone he possibly could get his hands on. Sometimes that meant a romp in a nice bed or against a wall in an alleyway. Jaskier didn’t care. Why would he? He was 41 years old and his whole life was spent following an ungrateful man who only wanted him out of his life. So, of course Jaskier was out of the witcher’s life now; for good.

“‘Ey! Oi!” Someone called as Jaskier strummed his lute singing about some fair maden, “you there troubadour sing that one about that witcher an’ the coin!” Someone called and Jaskier made a face at the drunk man as he slowed his strumming,

“I’m sorry I don’t sing that one anymore. There are plenty of bards who are still singing the praises of the white wolf. I am not one of them!” He said as he went back to strumming loudly and humming as he did so. He felt the first smack of something and looked down groaning at seeing the bread. It had been the man requesting he sing toss a coin to your witcher and he glared as another piece hit him, “oi fuck off!” He screamed and dropped the lute. It clang and he cursed himself. It was the beautiful lute Filavandrel had bequeathed to him on his first adventure with Geralt. Hell, it was the lute he actually composed toss a coin to your witcher on!

“Toss a coin toss a coin!” Shouts started and he groaned and started up the very familiar yet heart wrenching melody.

“When a humble bard… Graced a ride along with Geralt of Rivia… Along came this… Song…” He crooned and the crowd quieted. He got back into the groove and started to sing loudly as he danced along the floor. Soon, everyone was laughing and singing along with the chorus and throwing coins at the bard who would gladly collect those at the end of this song. Then, maybe he could drown himself into some more liquor and women? Who knew what the night would bring him!

Once the song ended, he quickly collected the coin and filled his purse up before he put his lute away and settled at a chair, “wine!” He called and there was a loud whoop as the barmaid quickly brought him the wine. He grinned with his ever charming smile and leaned forward, “thank you,” he murmured and placed an extra coin in her hand as he looked up at her with wide blue eyes. She turned bright red and giggled faintly. The girl was probably half his age but what did he care? He didn’t look anywhere near 41 (no one could figure that out either) and on top of that, he was handsome if he said so himself.

She skittered off as he sat back with the glass and took a long swig of it as he sighed. The warmth of the red wine tingled down his chest and into his stomach. Oh it would not take long for him to get drunk off of this. Maybe he could seduce that pretty little barmaid into his bed?

Jaskier pushed the long grown out locks away from his face. The mousy brown hair almost curly at his cheeks. It was a lot longer than he liked but he had no need nor want to cut his hair. In fact, his own face now matched his chest. It was covered in a thick layer of curly dark brown hair. He hadn’t ever let himself become unshaven and yet here he was looking rugged and dark not the baby faced troubadour that had followed Geralt to the end of the world and back again.

Jaskier had put on a bit of weight as well. Not much, just from all the alcohol he consumed on a daily basis had given him that gut. He didn’t care, why would he? People still fell at his feet to fuck and be fucked by the great Jaskier! Even without Geralt, he still was able to bed just about anyone and it wasn’t often he was threatened with death. That was a nice change. He literally could walk in to a town and fuck anyone without anyone so much as batting an eye; if he was careful that was. Can’t go fucking the alderman’s wife after all. Jaskier snickered at that idea and held up his empty mug for more.

The beautiful barmaid was quick to refill and he put another coin in her hand and let his fingers linger. She was a bright red and she grinned at him shyly, “I have a room. Maybe we could… get to know each other better? I will gladly serenade you with any song you wish my love,” he almost purred and she giggled even louder,

“Oh… oh that does sound amazing. My shift ends in a few hours. Maybe then?” Jaskier hummed and leaned forward again his breath ghosting over an ear,

“Room 206.” he said calmly as he sat back and she flounced off again as he drank his wine and adjusted what was growing in his pants. Oh, tonight was going to be quite fun after all.

~ ~ ~

Geralt woke to a piercing scream and sat up from the camp they had made. Ciri lay next to him but had screamed herself awake. This was quite normal and he sighed as he gathered the teen up and pulled her into his bedroom. “Shh… Sh…” He wasn’t the best at comforting but she didn’t seem to care. Hands dug into his shirt and twisted frantically as she tried to find purchase of some sort,

“I saw him.. The man with the bird hat,” she admitted softly and sniffled, “he killed you and he, he took me!” She cried as her body shook.

“He isn’t here,” Geralt stated bluntly as he rubbed his rough and calloused hands along her face and cheeks and up into her scalp lightly scratching and rubbing to try and calm the frantic child down, “no one can hurt you. Roach is on watch,” he nodded to the mare who just sighed and huffed at them as she paced tied to her spot. “Do you want to sleep with me?” He asked and Ciri gave a light nod as she settled down with Geralt who slowly leaned back and let her lay upon his chest.

Her breathing slowly went shallow out and she was fast asleep again. Geralt was wide awake though, his eyes wide as he looked up at the top of the tent; listening to the horses breath and the way Ciri murmured in her sleep as she wrung his shirt between rather strong fingers. He smiled and rubbed down her lower back in comforting circles as he too fell back into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, neither talked about the nightmares or dreams. Neither talked about Ciri almost begging to sleep in Geralt’s bedroll as if she was a little girl. Geralt would never deny her nor would he ever bring it up to embarrass her. She had been through so much in a years time that it would not be fair to her. “We will be stopping at the next town,” he explained to her as they finished packing and mounting up onto their horses, “they may have a contract and we can actually have a bath and eat a proper meal yeah?” Ciri nodded,

“Mmm, anything besides rabbit and venison,” she said with a happy nod as they trotted along the woods. Geralt just gave her a light smile as he followed right next to her.

“Come on Roach,” he said quietly to the horse who neighed in response as he rubbed her side gently. Ciri smiled at him and silently sped up knowing Geralt would follow whatever pace she kept.

It was the end of the day when they finally entered the small and quaint town. People went silent when they saw the golden eyed witcher and the girl with the piercing green eyes and almost white blond hair as she rode proudly on her horse as if she was already a queen. Geralt loved that the most about her. She had no fear nor did she show any weakness. She truly was Queen Calanthe’s grandchild.

They stopped in front of the one inn, and he got down helping Ciri off her own horse. He left her standing in front of the inn with their bags as he went to stable the two horses. He paid a few coins to the stable hand to make sure they got a good rub down before he came back and picked up one. Ciri grabbed the other.

Geralt opened the door to the inn and felt the silence drop over them as if it was a blanket. He cleared his throat and nodded to the bar and Ciri nodded as she went to go to the bar and cheerily asked for a meal and some ale for Geralt. Geralt searched and soon found a dark corner and settled knowing Ciri would find him shortly. She came back holding two large bowls looking quite proud of herself.

“They will be bringing you ale soon and milk for me!” She said happily as she sat the stew down with the crusty bread. He hummed and happily took a bite of the bread before he dug into the stew. Geralt could hear the talk pick back up as everything seemed to go to normal as a scared looking barmaid came to his side and sat down the ale,

“Here you are, sir witcher. It is our best,” she bowed her head and cleared her throat, “M-may I ask if you are Geralt of Rivia? The white wolf?” Geralt sat down his spoon loudly and looked up at her as Ciri made a face and continued to eat,

“Why?” He hissed and she turned bright red and jumped back,

“N-no trouble I promise ye’ sir!” She cried and bit her lip as she worried it through her teeth. “You see, there is a bard in town… J-jaskier?” She said softly, “Well, he got caught up with the wrong woman and got her pregnant you see,” she explained, “it was the sheriff's daughter,” the girl said quickly, “they plan to… to hang him tomorrow.” She looked at him and his eyes were wide as he stared at her.

“Where is he?” Geralt asked and she gulped,

“H-he’s locked away right now. I don’t know what you could do for him.” she said softly as she looked to Ciri who was staring between Geralt and then to the barmaid curiously. “I just thought you would like to know. He cries your name when he's sleeping.” at that, she flounced away and Geralt groaned,

“Jaskier… I’ve heard you mumble that name in your sleep.” Ciri said softly, “that is that bard that used to sing that song?” Geralt glared at her slightly as she turned bright red, “just curious don’t look at me like that. I am not the only one who has nightmares Geralt of Rivia!” She snapped and went back to her food.

Geralt picked up his own spoon and continued to eat, but his thoughts were on Jaskier. He had to save the stupid bard from himself again! Granted, it had been a year since he had to save Jaskier from some cuckold who was out to cut off his cock. Geralt sighed a bit and stood as he walked to the counter. He made small talk and pushed a few coins and pointed towards Cirilla. The barmaid that had talked to him had nodded and he walked back.

“You will be going to a room.” He stated quietly, “you will take a bath and you will wait for my return. I will be back before day break got it?” Ciri’s eyes went wide,

“Don’t leave me!” She cried and stood, hugging him. Geralt cursed as this was not helping his image. No, why would a big scary witcher; the Butcher of Blaviken let a small girl hug him?

“This is no different if I were to go off to kill something.” Geralt murmured and kissed the top of her head lovingly, “stay sharp, you have the dagger I gave you yeah?” She nodded and looked up at him with tear filled green eyes, “no later than dawn.” Geralt repeated as she pulled away and sniffled,

“Please don’t leave me.” she said softly, “Come back please? I don’t wanna be alone again..” Geralt sighed and hugged her tightly again,

“Never would I leave my child surprise, got it?” She smiled up at him and nodded happily. Geralt pulled away as the barmaid walked over with a key,

“Come little one. I will draw you a warm bath okay?” She nodded and picked up her pack as Geralt grabbed his. She followed the barmaid out of the room and up the stairs to the room Geralt had rented for her.

Geralt sighed as he glared at everyone there as if to say ‘you touch her you die,’ and everyone got the hint well as he started out of the inn. He had to make his way to the jail to save Jaskier. That was all that was on his mind. Save Jaskier, get Ciri, and get the fuck out of this small town before his own head was on the chopping block!

~ ~ ~

Jaskier groaned as he sat in his own filth and leaned against the hard and cold stone wall. He had been locked up for a week now after he had supposedly gotten that cute little 22 year old pregnant. It wasn’t his fault she was so damned good and when he tried to pull out she stopped him! What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t exactly stop an orgasm as it started. Jaskier banged his head back harder and groaned at the delicious pain.

Jaskier had no hope of rescue. No, who would come for him? His family had no idea where he was. He was too far from Oxenfurt for anyone who actually cared to hear of this, and Geralt? Who knew where the fuck the witcher was and if he actually cared? If Geralt had heard of this he would probably just say it was a good thing and good riddance to the bard.

That made his heart ache again as he tried not to cry. No, he was not drunk enough for these feelings. Jaskier sighed as he despaired to the idea of dying here, alone and sad. That was it for him, death.

~ ~ ~

Geralt found the jail easily enough and tried to bully his way in, “just let me see him,” he hissed, “Why are you killing him hmm? What did he do?” The guard sneered,

“He impregnated the wrong girl! He knocked ‘er up and left ‘er!”

“Well, we all know bards aren’t the smartest or the most loyal to who they bed,” he snapped lightly as he stepped closer, “that is no reason to kill him. There must be a mage or witch you can get a potion to rid her of such issues?” The man looked at him with wide eyes but tried not to be bullied as he stepped even closer,

“Does it look like we ‘ave a mage?” He sneered, “we barely ‘ave an inn! Now get along or we will be tossin ya in there to die along side the bard!” Geralt sighed and slowly formed the sign for Axii and let the sign touch his mind,

“You will give me the keys and I will let the bard out. There will be no violence and we will leave here immediately.” He said softly as he saw the sign take over the man’s mind. The man blinked and started to look for the keys on himself before he said,

“‘Ay sir witcher, don’t have no keys,” he mumbled and Geralt felt himself curse as he also started to look over the man. For sure, he had no keys. Geralt pushed past him and went into the small office and started to dig. No, no keys here either!

“Who the fuck doesn’t give the guard keys!?” He nearly screamed at the guard and kicked his knee out as the man fell with a cry. “Fuck,” he cursed and started to think. He would just have to wait until they were ready to execute him. Yes, he would lay in waiting with Ciri ready to ride out the minute he grabbed Jaskier. That would have to work. “Fine,” he hissed and let the sign go as he quickly left the man in pain on the ground screaming from a possible broken knee.

~ ~ ~

Geralt made his way back to the inn and Ciri had already bathed and was in a new set of clothes. When he entered, she was cowering but when she saw it was him; she flung herself and he wrapped his arms around her as he caught her. “See? I’m back,” he soothed as she looked up,

“Where is the bard?” She asked curiously and Geralt sighed,

“The damned guard didn’t have a key. We are going to go to bed and wake before the sun.” He explained, “we will have you on Stepper waiting with Roach and our things and I will grab him when he’s in the process of being moved to be executed alright?” Ciri nodded and curled up on the one bed. He slowly crawled in after her and fell asleep. Though, it was light because he refused to sleep past dawn.

~ ~ ~

Geralt woke with a gasp and sat up. Ciri was curled with her back against his side snoring lightly and looking so pleasant. He brushed a piece of blond hair from her face and bent to kiss her cheek as she twitched a bit, “time to wake,” he murmured in her ear. She huffed and yawned as she rolled over,

“It’s so early.” she complained but was already up and starting to gather their things. She was pretty organized and neat such as Geralt and Geralt thanked Melitele that she was.

They descended the stairs of the silent inn. It was still early enough no one was awake. Even when they went to grab the horses, the stable boys were fast asleep in piles of hay. Geralt had to shush Roach who wanted to neigh and whinny at seeing him. Stepper pranced in his spot as Ciri quickly threw the blanket and saddle up as she deftly buckled it. She had become quite efficient in the last six months with Geralt. Geralt had to stop and watch with pride.

They lead the horses out of the stables and Ciri quickly stepped onto the large horse, Stepper as Geralt tied Roach’s reins to Ciri’s saddle, “stay, Roach,” he commanded as she tried to pull away but stopped at that as Ciri soothed the chestnut mare. “Alright, I want you waiting on the outskirts of town in the tree lines.” He nodded towards the road, “south east. We will have to be quick or I will be killing when I do not wish to kill alright?” Ciri nodded silently,

“You will come for me, right?”

“Don’t be silly, you have my horse,” he tried to make it sound like a joke and Ciri thankfully got the dry humor and smiled before she kicked Stepper forward. The horse huffed but moved easily enough with Roach following not too far behind.

Geralt only had a small dagger within his belt. His two swords had been tied to Roach’s saddle for he sensed he would have no need for a sword in this fight. Geralt could almost always incapacitate a normal man with his bare hands.

The witcher moved almost as if a ghost through the silent and quiet roads of the small town. He found the jail and hid behind it as he listened. He could hear shouts and cries and laughter as it seemed they were roughing Jaskier up one last time. He winced and had to stop himself from lunging in already.

Though, he heard laughter that sounded like Jaskier as if Jaskier was laughing at the pain. He could hear the faint, “that’s all ya got!? Come on! You horses arse!” Yes, that was definitely Jaskier. Geralt cursed lightly,

“You have no self perseverance.” He said out loud. He heard a loud crack and winced. That had to have hurt for he did not hear Jaskier again.

“Damned bard, doesn’t know when te’ shut eet,” a man said in a rather thick accent. “Come we need te’ hang ‘im before that damn witcher comes back,” he hissed as he heard movement and nodded to himself. They were going to move him. Geralt could feel the warmth of the sun as it started to rise ever so slowly. A rooster crowed three times and he quirked a smirk at that.

There was a loud squeak Geralt recognized as an unoiled metal door. He pressed himself closely to the side of the building as he heard the door bang open and they brought out a half unconscious Jaskier. Geralt steeled himself for a fight and sneered; baring teeth as he saw the sorry state Jaskier was in.

Jaskier had shackles on his ankles and rope keeping his wrists together. His clothes were tattered and bloodied. His face was bruised and swollen with dried blood from a bloodied lip and bloody nose.

“Fuck,” he hissed quietly under his breath as one man held the rope and another followed behind Jaskier. Geralt’s golden eyes darted and he was thankful to not see anyone else. At least if there was blood shed, it would be two no more than that.

Geralt was silent as he fell into step behind the three without so much of a sound. Geralt was big, but he could be light on his feet. He had to be when it came to killing monsters. It didn’t take much for Geralt to grab the man behind Jaskier and put him into a sleeper hold. He shushed him as the man went down quickly and quietly. He dropped the body to the ground before he looted the body. He smirked at taking the small coin pouch and found what he hoped was the keys to the shackles upon his friend’s ankles.

He fell back behind them and walked silently thankful neither turned around. Though, Jaskier soon tripped and was on the ground crying softly as Geralt stopped and looked upon him with such empathy. His own heart was slowly hurting in his chest as the second guard turned to curse at Jaskier. Though, his eyes went to Geralt standing there silently, holding a set of keys,

“You! You fucker!” He snarled as he dropped the rope and moved to attack. Geralt easily dodged the blows and moved about. He dipped below and used an elbow to jar the man to the side before he grabbed him and wrestled him down. It was quick and painless as he snapped the man’s neck with a loud crack.

Jaskier had sat up and was sitting on bare knees as he stared at Geralt through horrified blue eyes. Geralt dropped to his knees and grabbed his friend’s face between now gentle hands,

“I’m so sorry,” Geralt murmured gently as he rubbed his cheek with a thumb. Jaskier looked away defeated as Geralt continued, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You don’t have to forgive me but I won’t let you die,” Geralt admitted softly, “you won’t die today, I promise.” Jaskier felt a scream rip through him as he pulled away and started to sob as he brought his bound hands to his face and sobbed uncontrollably.

This was what he wanted, this feeling. He had wanted this and here Geralt was. He had saved him from dying. A weight had lifted from his shoulders as he wailed and sobbed. Geralt was unsure what to do but sit there with a hand on his shoulder. Though, he looked around and cleared his throat a bit, “Jask, more guards are coming. We need to go, now.” He hissed and used the dagger to cut the rope off. Jaskier rubbed his sore and chafed wrists as Geralt fumbled and found the right key to let his ankles out.

“Can you run? “He asked and Jaskier shrugged. At that, Geralt didn’t care as he tossed the bard over his shoulder and started for the path he had told Ciri to wait on. Jaskier didn’t argue or complain as they made it quickly to the horses. “When I say run, I mean it.” he said to Ciri who nodded and held onto the reins tightly. Geralt untied Roach and tossed a limp Jaskier up onto Roach.

He climbed up and held Jaskier against his chest as he felt an arrow whiz past his head. “Run!” He screamed and Ciri easily kicked Stepper into running. The reason the horse was fondly called stepper was because when he wanted to go, he went.

Roach was no slouch and followed behind just as quickly as Geralt used one hand to steer and one hand to hold onto the limp bard. They rode like that until they were far enough that no one had followed. “Woah woah!” He called and Ciri reined back. Stepper reared but she held fast as he soon settled. Roach just huffed as she slowed to a stop. “We need to assess the damage.. Jask can you walk?” Jaskier nodded and slowly climbed from the horse, albeit a little unsteady.

Geralt got off the horse and rummaged until he found a few healing salves, “can I bandage you?” Geralt asked and Jaskier said nothing as he nodded ever so faintly and closed his eyes. He was silent as Geralt started to rub the healing salve over his body. The aches were leaving and the bruises would heal. Blood was wiped off of his sore face and Geralt cursed under his breath at how badly Jaskier had been beaten.

Once he was mostly clean, Geralt pulled out a pair of his own clothes, “until we can get you more.” he said nodding to the troubadour’s torn clothes. Jaskier was numb as he finished undoing the buttons and didn’t seem to care that a girl was watching with curious eyes as he stripped to underwear. He shakily pulled on the black tunic. It was rough but it smelt of Geralt and Jaskier sighed as he took a deep breath and almost fell right there just from that scent. Geralt helped him into the trousers and buttoned them. They were only a few centimeters too short and the shirt was large and loose due to Geralt being built a lot more. The pants stayed up though and that was nice.

“Alright, we are going to ride until dark and set up camp.” he murmured softly, “you can ride Roach with me. Is that okay?” Jaskier just numbly nodded as Geralt climbed back onto the mare and pulled Jaskier behind him. Jaskier quickly wrapped lithe arms around his friend’s waist and laid his head against Geralt’s back. Geralt gave a faint smile and Ciri smiled to,

“Nice to meet you. He used to dream about you,” she said and Geralt gave her a look, “what I would wake up and you would be mumbling his name and saying sorry and you messed up,” she shrugged innocently and Jaskier looked at Geralt quietly with curious eyes.

“We can talk when we settle down,” he said softly and Jaskier just nodded as they started to ride again. It was best to get as far away as possible just in case they wanted to pursue the three.

~ ~ ~ It was almost dark when Geralt finally called for a stop. They were next to a spring fed river and with it being so hot during the days he knew it would be quite warm still, “alright we will make camp here. Ciri, can you set a trap?” She nodded and jumped off Stepper, tying him off with deft hands before she grabbed the supplies from her pack and started to trudge the woods for a perfect place for a trap. Geralt got off Roach and helped a still quiet and limp Jaskier.

Geralt found a log and heaved it to a spot and pointed. Jaskier sat with no qualms as Geralt started to gather up twigs and leaves for kindling. It wasn’t long before he had a fire started and Ciri had came back to announce her trap was set. She started to help set up camp as she always did. Though, green eyes kept looking at the older man that seemed as if he was a shell of a man now.

“Geralt? He doesn’t look so good,” she finally murmured into his ear and Geralt sighed,

“I think it is shock. I will try to bring him around. Get the tent ready I am going to take him to bathe. No peeking,” he teased and she snorted,

“We’ve bathed together plenty of times!” She said and he chuckled as he grabbed two towels from one pack and pulled Jaskier up ever so gently,

“Let’s go take a bath…” Jaskier just hummed and followed easily behind Geralt to the river. Jaskier let Geralt undress him before Geralt slowly stripped and pushed Jaskier into the warm waters. Geralt sighed, “not a bath bath but it's better than nothing…” He said softly and Jaskier just hummed and started to wash without prompting. That made Geralt feel better as he too started to clean himself off with the grime of the traveling. He hadn’t gotten to bathe like Ciri did at the inn.

Once they were clean, Geralt pulled Jaskier out and dried the man off before he put more healing salve all over the scraps, cuts and bumps he had. He cursed under his breath at how marred that once smooth skin was in just a year. Jaskier dressed as Geralt dried himself off and pulled his own clothes back on.

When they entered the campsite, Ciri was skinning two rather large rabbits and grinned up at Geralt, “I’ve gotten good!” She chirped and looked to Jaskier and cocked her head faintly to the side, “you hungry?” She asked Jaskier who looked at her and then back at Geralt and Geralt gave a nod as he plopped down next to her,

“Starving,” he said hoarsely and she grinned at his first word being to her. Geralt smiled as he took one of the rabbits to finish skinning before they both were spit roasted and thrown onto the blazing fire.

They all sat in relative silence as the rabbits cooked. When they were done, Geralt filleted pieces and handed them out on crude plates he had procured in the last six months of traveling with the young girl. When Ciri got hers, she moved to go into the tent to give Jaskier and Geralt alone time, claiming tiredness. Though, Geralt knew better.

“Jaskier…” He murmured faintly as Jaskier picked at the rabbit eating it slowly, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do or to say.” He said softly, “you mean so much to me and I was stupid. I was stupid to force you to leave me.” Jaskier twitched and looked up behind lidded blue eyes,

“I...I just wanted to do my best for you,” Jaskier said softly. “I wanted to be your companion, your friend, maybe even your lover.” Jaskier felt his cheeks rise in heat as he cleared his throat, “you hurt me so bad,” he choked faintly,

“I wanted to do my best and yet my best wasn't good enough was it, Geralt?” He asked and Geralt felt his heart thud loudly and rapidly.

“I-it was good enough. I promise you Jaskier.” Geralt replied gently as he moved so they were sitting closer. Jaskier was leaning his back against the log and Geralt fell to the ground next to him. He let his leg touch Jaskier’s and Jaskier did not pull or shrink away. “I was so hurt by Yen, and I took it out on you. I didn’t want you to suffer anymore traveling with me,” Geralt said softly, “but I can see now you were suffering without me.” Jaskier snorted as he sat the plate down of uneaten rabbit.

“I suffered more without you than I did with you,” he said softly as Geralt hummed and nodded,

“I realise that now. I also realise I can have a companion and care for them as well as protect them,” he nodded his head towards the tent where he could tell Ciri was leaning and listening.

“I loved you, Geralt,” Jaskier finally admitted, “I fell madly in love with you. Why would I give you my twenties and my thirties?” He asked as he stared at Geralt, “why I followed you everywhere and anywhere? You took my love and stomped it out on that damned mountain you know that?” Geralt huffed lightly and nodded,

“I know that now and I was wrong, can you ever forgive me?” Geralt had sat down his half uneaten plate and moved a hand to Jaskier’s knee. He was thankful Jaskier did not pull away but soon his own hand was shakily grasping Geralt’s as he grasped it tightly; lacing their fingers together. Geralt smiled and brought the hand up to kiss it gently, “I can’t promise to be the best but I can promise to love you fiercely. I want you to come with us; come to Kaer Morhen please?” Jaskier’s lip twitched and he nodded as he leaned closer to Geralt,

“Of course you and your child surprise?” He asked as he looked over and winked at the girl who tried to hide from the two men’s eyes. Geralt nodded and Jaskier took that moment to turn and quickly bring Geralt’s lips to his own. Geralt was surprised but happily tossed his arms around Jaskier and gave back just as good as Jaskier had given. Their tongues meshed and they kissed tenderly next to the fire light. Jaskier moaned and straddled Geralt’s lap and ground down as Geralt ground up but he pulled away and panted, “not here, not now.” he said as he looked up at his bard’s disappointed face, “we have a 13 year old girl listening and watching. I rather our first time be in a nice big bed.” He said truthfully and Jaskier nodded but pouted as he settled to just sitting in his lap and he huffed a sigh,

“Okay I can live with that.” he said softly and then cursed, “my things! My lute!” he cried, “oh they still have them! What will we do!?” Geralt groaned softly,

“I can go back.. Just me.” he said as he looked at Jaskier and to Ciri. “you two keep riding for the next town. Ciri do you mind riding double with Jask?”

“No,” he meek call came from the tent,

“Good I will leave at daybreak and meet you in the next town over. Ciri are you okay with that?”

Ciri poked her head out and looked at the two men, “he won’t leave me will he?” She asked nodding to Jaskier, “and you will come back right?” Jaskier looked at her fondly and smiled,

“My dear, I won’t leave you at all. I have wanted to meet you for so many years,” he cooed and slowly crawled off of Geralt’s lap and moved to her and pulled her into a tight hug. Ciri relaxed mostly because the scent she smelt was all Geralt and it was her comfort. She nodded against his chest as Geralt moved closer and wrapped them both into his arms.

“I won’t leave either of you. Now, let’s sleep so you two can get on the road and I can head back.” he grumbled faintly and Jaskier grinned,

“Can I share your bed roll?” He asked and Geralt rolled his eyes,

“If she doesn’t beat you to it,” Jaskier gasped loudly,

“Is my place in your heart being replaced by such a sweet girl!? Oh what will I do!?” Geralt just grunted,

“Not like that. Shes… shes like my daughter,” he admitted and Ciri flushed before she dove into her own bed roll. Thankfully, Geralt’s was big enough for the two adult men and they easily fell into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~

Geralt and Roach were gone before the other two had stirred. He had left a large coin purse so they could purchase a room. Ciri woke against an unfamiliar chest and gasped as she sat up but then noticed it was the sleeping troubadour and slowly settled against him until he woke with a yawn and smiled as he stroked her hair, “morning princess.” he chirped and she smiled happily,

“We should head out that is what Geralt would want,” she said quietly and he nodded,

“Of course, come let’s pack up shall we?” They made quick work of the campsite and were soon both on Stepper and riding for the main path to get to the next town over.

~ ~ ~

Jaskier had gotten them a single room with two beds so they could wait for Geralt. They expected him to be only a day but one turned to two and then three. Every day, Ciri became more and more distraught, “what if he doesn’t come back? “She cried on the third night as she wiped her eyes, “he left us he won’t come back!” She was now wailing and Jaskier had pulled her into his arms and settled on the bed trying to comfort the teen against his chest.

“Now, now there! He just probably got held up, maybe he got a contract?” He asked gently. “Why don’t we go down stairs and get something to eat? He should be here any time I promise you. He wouldn’t leave us.” at least, that was what Jaskier was trying to rationalize as well. Would he? Did Geralt think he would be better suited to care for Ciri?

Jaskier was able to prod the younger girl down the stairs and he quickly called for ale, milk, and food. They settled in a dark and quiet corner and started to eat and drink. Ciri still looked miserable as Jaskier tried to comfort her.

The door swung open and everyone stopped as the gold eyed witcher stepped inside. He looked bloodied and his eyes were blown. Everywhere he looked, everyone shrunk away quickly. Jaskier saw this and grinned as he stood, but Ciri was already flying at him and clinging to him as the man dropped the bags and lute to the floor. “You did come back!” She cried and he sighed softly and kissed her head,

“Got held up. Food.” he said roughly to the bar keep who nodded as Geralt fished the items off the floor and walked, holding Ciri to the table with the bard. “Got your things.” he grunted softly and Jaskier smiled gently,

“Thank you.” he murmured softly, “see? Told you princess!” he teased the girl who smiled and sat back down. Geralt sat next to Jaskier as a plate of food and a mug of ale was brought to him. He took a big swig and dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

Once Geralt was done, he asked for a second room for Cirilla so he could bathe and maybe talk to Jaskier alone without the 13 year old eavesdropping. She fought the idea of having to sleep in a room by herself, but thankfully it was right across the street and Geralt promised if she got scared she could crawl into bed with him and possibly Jaskier.

She acquiesced and they made their ways to the respective rooms. Once Ciri was in her room, and their door had shut, Jaskier had his hands all over Geralt. “Are you hurt? Do you need to be rubbed down? Anything I can stitch?” The bard asked gently and Geralt shook his head as he put strong hands on his friend’s shoulders.

“Just a bath,” he rasped quietly and Jaskier nodded. Geralt pulled away and quickly went to the tub. The water was cold so he lit it with igni and slowly undressed before he slipped into it. The water smelt of roses and chamomile and he knew that Jaskier and Ciri probably had bathed in it before. He didn’t care too much. A bath was what he needed.

Jaskier dropped to his knees and put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and massaged lovingly before he leaned closely, “we missed you… I missed you,” he admitted and Geralt huffed and leaned back a bit,

“I got caught up with the guards. It wasn’t pretty let’s put it that way. Got some nice coin out of it,” he smirked lightly,

“Geralt! You did not become a brigand and steal from them!?”

“Not like they were going to use it,” Geralt grumbled lightly. “We can rest here for the night and start on for Kaer Morhen tomorrow alright?” Jaskier nodded at that and sighed as he started to help wash Geralt’s back gently. Geralt happily leaned forward and moaned softly at the touches. Jaskier felt his face heat up and he cleared his throat gently,

“Geralt.. I have a confession,” he said softly as he pulled his hands away, “you may tell me to leave or send me on my way again but I can’t hold back any longer. I’m not a young man anymore as you know…” Geralt looked over at him over his shoulder and waved a hand for him to continue, “my point being is: I am in love with you. I always have been. Something about you drew me to you and I was never able to get away,” he said softly and sighed a bit. Geralt just sat there in stunned silence as he watched Jaskier, “S-say something please,” Jaskier almost pleaded as he felt his chest tighten at the idea of Geralt rejecting him again.

Geralt turned in the tub and surged up. His lips crashed against Jaskier’s and they shared a rough kiss that was all teeth and moans. Jaskier groaned as he was pressed against the floor next to the tub with a very naked and very soaking wet Geralt on top of him. Geralt lessened the kiss and it became gentle and loving as he ran strong hands up and down the bard’s body.

When it almost became too much, he pulled away and panted slightly as he looked down at the bard who looked as if he was shocked. “Bed,” Geralt murmured softly and Jaskier nodded and scrambled for the bed quickly. The tunic he wore that was Geralt’s came off and he undid the pants but did not pull them off. His boots got kicked to the side as Geralt stood and shook out the wet hair. He walked silently to the bed, still naked before the bed dipped with his weight.

He dropped down next to Jaskier and pulled Jaskier to his naked chest as he laid down. Jaskier leaned against it before he was pulled up again for another rough and loving kiss. Jaskier moaned quietly as he pressed himself against Geralt. Geralt pulled away and murmured against kiss swollen lips, “I am so sorry Jask. I never meant to make you feel that way. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Oh you silly Witcher… I already have,” Jaskier stated and grinned as he dived back in for another heartwarming kiss. Geralt flipped them so Jaskier was beneath him. Strong hands were running all over his body and Jaskier was sighing happily into the ministrations.

One hand soon cupped between his legs and Jaskier flushed as he felt a surge of arousal hit straight at home. The hand massaged and rubbed until Jaskier was grinding back and moaning loudly for more. Geralt soon ripped the pair of trousers off and down his body and smirked at the naked form of his now lover.

“Lovely,” he breathed and Jaskier flushed as he tried to hide almost in embarrassment. Geralt pinned the arms away and bent to kiss him again as he rubbed his own growing erection against Jaskier’s. Jaskier gasped and moaned softly at that as Geralt ground down and groaned against his lips.

“Jaskier, I want you to fuck me,” Jaskier’s eyes flew open and he almost sat up but bumped against Geralt and fell back,

“W-what?” He asked loudly, “F-fuck you? You?” Jaskier stared at the well muscled chest, the lovely patches of fur that ran down and all those damn scars. The fact his cock was rather large and pulsing against his thigh and he gulped. Granted, Jaskier was unsure if he could take something so large. It had been years since he had bottomed. “Are you sure?” Geralt nodded and rolled over and laid down, legs open,

“Very,” he breathed softly as he smiled up at Jaskier, “please?” Jaskier groaned and nodded as he quickly bent down to take what he could of the thick piece of meat into his mouth. Geralt just moaned softly and let Jaskier work his magic.

Jaskier was incredibly skilled with his tongue and it made Geralt drip with precum as he felt the man bobbing his head roughly up and down. Geralt placed one hand in his hair to help steady and let Jaskier work. It wasn’t long before Geralt was pulling Jaskier off his cock and panting, “gonna cum if you keep this up. Rather cum around your cock.” Jaskier moaned at that and nodded,

“Oil?” He asked and Geralt groaned as he rolled off the bed and dove into his pack. Soon, he pulled out a small tin with some salve that was great for sore muscles. This would do perfectly. Geralt crawled back onto the bed and laid out on his back, legs open. Jaskier fought with the tin for a minute before he finally got it open. He grinned nervously but soon was scooping some and covering his fingers in the thick substance.

One finger went between his lover’s legs and down his crack. Geralt tensed slightly but soon relaxed when said finger started to massage his hole slowly. Geralt groaned and bit his knuckle lightly as to not be too loud. Jaskier massaged and worked the tender hole until it was finally pliable. At that, he pressed his finger into the first knuckle. There was little to no resistance so it was easy to press it all the way in.

Jaskier moved said finger in and out slowly watching Geralt for any signs of pain. There was nothing but signs of pleasure as Geralt actually moaned and panted out loud as he pressed back against the finger. Jaskier groaned and pressed in a second. Geralt hissed but it was a hiss of pleasure not pain. Jaskier slowly scissored the two fingers and kept working him open before Geralt swatted at his hand, “I’m ready damnit. I don’t need as prepping as normal people.” Jaskier nodded and pulled his fingers out before using the last of the salve to slick his hard cock. He pulled back his foreskin and moaned softly as he slowly settled over Geralt’s hips.

This would be a first, Jaskier had never bedded someone quite larger than himself. Granted, they were almost the same height but Geralt easily out weighed him and was much wider than Jaskier’s own form. Jaskier took a deep breath and slowly pressed forward and his cock breached the round and puckered hole easily. Geralt gasped and keened as his head threw back. Wisps of white framed his face and Jaskier had to bite his lip to keep from shouting ‘fuck’ into the air.

Geralt leaned up and caught Jaskier into another kiss as Jaskier started a slow and steady pace. His hips rocked in and out of Geralt and Geralt just moaned against the lips before he broke away to look at him with lust filled eyes, “you can fuck me as hard as you like, bard. You won’t injure me.” That made Jaskier groan loudly before his hips shot forward harder and he started a brutal pace.

Geralt fell back against the bed and moaned loudly as he felt Jaskier speed up. Jaskier grabbed the witcher’s legs and was able to put them on his shoulders and almost bent the witcher in half as he fucked down into his willing body. Geralt was a mess, crying out and moaning and encouraging the bard on before Geralt was fisting his own cock.

Three hard fists and he was screaming his orgasm as large white ropes shot out and covered his chest, hand and stomach. Jaskier moaned at the site and felt his own body stutter before he was shaking and cumming deep within Geralt; moaning as he released.

When he was finally done, he let down his lover’s legs and slowly pulled out with a groan. His cock was softening and overly sensitive now. Geralt’s was limp and still pulsing as cum oozed and pooled in his navel. Jaskier lay down and rest his head against the witcher’s chest and shoulder as he relaxed. “That was amazing,” he murmured and Geralt put an arm around him and hummed,

“Hmm, yes yes it was.” He said softly and smiled down at Jaskier. “So, will you stay with us in Kaer Morhen?” He questioned softly,

“For sex like that? Of course!” He laughed softly and Geralt chuckled as he rubbed soothing circles against his lower back,

“Good. I need you.” Geralt murmured and Jaskier flushed slightly,

“And I need you.”

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