#Do you think those stairs feel fulfilled? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dira333 · 6 months ago

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Current Friend, Future Husband? - Tenma Udai/Little Giant x Reader

whoops, my finger slipped... Words: 5k

Enjoy this reluctant Friends to Lovers/He falls first with the Little Giant from Karasuno.

created as a fanfic gift exchange for @lees-chaotic-brain

tagging: @mariaace @snail-squasher @yamaguchiwestad @respitable

- 6 -

“Tenma’s here,” your mom calls up from the kitchen.

The announcement is unnecessary because Tenma has yet to learn how to walk quietly, stomping up the stairs to your room.

His face is set in a scowl too, dark curls and dark eyes giving him quite an evil aura.

But you’ve known him long enough not to care about that.

“Grab a scarf,” you tell him as soon as he steps through the door, “I’m playing wedding.”

“Not again,” he groans, though does as he is told. The pink scarf he picks has hundreds of little coins sown to it, chiming as he wraps it around his shoulders and moves through the room.

“I’m a Djinn,” he exclaims, “I will curse you.”

“Djinn’s don’t curse people! They fulfill wishes,” you correct him.

“Fine,” he huffs, “What do you wish for?”

“I want Tenma to play the husband.”

“Not again!” He groans, throwing his hands in the air.

“You have to!” You declare, “Djinn’s always have to follow their master's wishes!”

He huffs and whines and begs but it’s no use. He plays the husband to your wife.

“Can we play outside now?” He asks as soon as you kiss his cheek and declare the marriage official. “Mom brought my ball.”

“Fine,” you decide to be nice today. “But don’t kick it too hard. I don’t like that.”

- 8 -

“It’s so weird that you’ve got a boy as a best friend,” Asuka exclaims. Your small group of (girl)friends has gathered in your favorite spot, overlooking the garden and the big open space below. Tenma’s playing Ball with a group of boys and he’s easy to pick out, he’s always the smallest in any group.

“You think so?” You ask back, taking one of the strawberries Sango brought for lunch break today. “It’s not like I had a chance. Our mothers are best friends. He’s basically my annoying twin brother.”

“Do you think he’s cute?” Ryo asks, looking up from where she’s painting Tomoko’s nails.

You consider this for a moment, look down to where he’s running around, red-faced and panting. He’s not ugly, that much you can tell, but cute?

“I don’t think so,” you say, because it’s better than to admit that you don’t really know what cute really means for a guy. You think babies are cute, but that’s not the same thing, right?

“I think he’s cute,” Ryo admits easily now that she thinks she knows where you stand. “Can I ask him to be my boyfriend?”

“I mean you can ask,” you offer, feeling a little weird that she asks you in the first place, “but I don’t know what he’ll answer you. I bet he still thinks girls are gross.”

- 10 -

“I think you’re getting a little too old to be sharing a bathtub,” your mother announces after Tenma has left.

“We weren’t sharing,” you explain, drying your hair. “We were playing that he was my magical shapeshifting dog but he rolled around in a mountain of dragon poop and I had to give him a bath. He pulled me in when I was almost done washing him.”

Your mother sighs. “Aren’t you getting a little old for those stories too?”

You tense and she notices right away.

“Dear, I didn’t mean… if this is how you want to play, I’m totally fine with that. I was just wondering…”

“How else are we supposed to play?” You ask, unable to keep the agitation out of your voice. “Am I supposed to kiss him and hold hands like the other girls in my class are pretending to do? Or play Volleyball the whole day? Or just do our homework and study, study, study until we fall asleep? Or play video games that you don’t like because they make you dumb? How are we supposed to play?”

Your mother sighs again, lowers herself until she’s sitting crosslegged on the floor next to you.

“Come,” she says, opening her arms until you crawl into her like you used to do. “I’m sorry. I know, as your mother, I should say and do all the right things but that was pretty stupid of me. Can you forgive me?”

You nod and she pulls you in a little closer, kissing your damp hair. “Now tell me, what do you like to do? What’s fun?”

You lean into her, the familiar smell and warmth, and let yourself open up.

“When I come up with a story, Tenma always makes it bigger. Like today, when I said: Do you wanna play my dog, it was his idea that he could shapeshift. And that we’re living in a world that has dragons. And… and I was a maiden that had a tavern and there would be knights who came by to slay the dragons but the dragons are actually our friends… It’s like reading a book but you’re in it, you know? And he doesn’t ask about who I like and what I like and what I think is cute all the time. That’s so annoying.”

“You like hanging out with Tenma?”

“He’s okay,” you offer and she snorts. “If he ever gets on your nerves, you can tell me, okay? I know boys can be annoying too.”

“I can handle Tenma,” you tell her, knowing you’re right. “But can you, like, not allow me to go to Ryo’s sleepover next week? She’s so obsessed with boys and she always pranks someone during sleepover. I don’t want to wake up with my head shaved.”

- 12 -

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement.

It’s not that you don’t get chocolates and confessions, because you do, a lot actually even though you decline every time, but never from Tenma.

For a long second neither of you does or says anything and all you see of him is the back of his neck as he bows.

But then he pops up, a weird grin on his face.

“Got you!” He declares, opening the pack of chocolates and biting into it without a moment of hesitation. “Did you think that was real?”

“No,” you say even though that’s a lie, “Why did you do it?”

He shrugs, offering you the chocolate. You take a bite as well, feeling a little smug that neither of you cares that it will be an “indirect kiss” as the girls call it.

“Everyone thinks we’re dating,” he admits finally when he pulls the chocolate back again, “just wanted to see what you think about it.”

“It’s annoying,” you declare ad you should have watched his face a little closer because something like a shadow moves over it, but it’s gone before you can catch it. “You’re like my brother.”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds a little weak for someone as headstrong as Tenma.

You don’t wanna think about it though, so you poke his shoulder. “Where did you get the chocolate?”

“Someone confessed to me. I said no but I kept the chocolate because they thought I was dating you and still confessed. That’s stupid.”

“Mhm,” you don’t ask for a name. “Wanna stay and play a bit before we walk home?”

“Volleyball?” He asks, ears perking up.

“Sure.”

- 14 -

Neither of you is dating anyone.

None of your girlfriends believes that you’re not into Tenma and you’ve given up on convincing them of the truth. You don’t really want to date anyone. You like solving puzzles and coming up with crazy ideas that Tenma can bend and fold into even crazier stories. You like going for a run with him in the morning because even though you hate waking up early it sets your mind at ease and you like going for a run with him in the evening because without it, you’ll be unable to sleep.

Sure, there are some good-looking boys in your class. But maybe you’ve spent too much time around Tenma, or boys in general, to find any appeal in them.

They fart and they burp and they dig their dirty fingers into their noses and they refuse to shower even though they smell awful and sweaty. The number of times you’ve had to drag Tenma into the shower, turn it on, and hold him under the spray because you couldn’t allow him in your room otherwise and he wouldn’t go on his own is too high to admit at this point.

It helps a little that Tenma thinks the same of girls.

Not that the girls from your class are as disgusting as the boys.

But they giggle too much and they always flutter their lashes at him which he thinks is a little creepy and they don’t listen to him when he talks about anything that isn’t their appearance.

“I like talking to you instead,” he admits and this is probably the highest praise he’s ever sung you, “you know what I’m talking about.”

And you know what he means because you always know what he means. It’s not that hard. Tenma likes stories, the crazier the better, and he likes volleyball. And food, but he’s picky with that, giving you his tomatoes and eating all your salmon even though you’d have wanted to eat that yourself.

All the other girls in your class are talking about boyfriends and getting married and having a family and all you want to think about is solving riddles with Tenma or telling him a story so he doesn’t make you practice receives with him.

- 16 -

“Did you get your first kiss already?” Hisoka asks and you shake your head. Nothing sounds less appealing than tasting someone else’s spit.

“Don’t you and Tenma kiss?” She asks and you stare at her as if she’d said that Alien’s are real.

“Why would we kiss?”

“You’re dating, aren’t you? Everyone says that you’re dating.”

“He’s like my brother,” you tell her. “We grew up together.”

“But you’re the manager of the Volleyball team too.”

“Yeah, because I like Volleyball.”

She huffs. “Okay, who do you like? I think Tsukishima is still single.”

Tsukishima, blond, tall, and universally liked, blushes like a strawberry. You glare at him for eavesdropping.

“I’m not interested in anyone,” you declare loudly. You hope that’s the end of it.

It isn’t.

“Hey, can you walk home without me? We’re going to prank the store owner down the street,” Tenma hands you his bag without waiting for an answer.

You walk home alone, grumbling to yourself about how you would have wanted to play along with the prank.

But it doesn’t matter.

After years of being an okay player, Karasuno’s trainer seems to have spotted something in Tenma that he didn’t even expect there himself.

Extra training. More time on the court. Recognition from others.

Soon enough you’re sidelined with Tsukishima and the others.

First-year managers are not allowed on the court during official matches.

Is there anything worse than realizing that you’ve made a mistake? Putting all your faith in one friend only to realize they can drop you without a moment’s hesitation?

“Tenma’s here,” your mother calls out from the kitchen.

You’re not fast enough at sprinting toward your door. He slips into your room before you’ve managed to close it.

“Tsukishima told me you’re leaving the team?” He sounds out of breath. Did he run here?

“I’m just a manager, it’s not like the team will notice,” you scoff, pushing him off your bed. “Besides I’m taking up Advanced English, so I’ll have more time to study.”

“What? Are you going to turn boring now?”

“You’re boring!” You scream, surprised by the anger that’s spilling from your lips. It feels as if he’d stabbed you with that question and all the words are just the blood that’s spraying out of open wounds. “All you do is play volleyball and think you’re the greatest and it sucks!”

“You suck!” He yells back. “You’re just jealous I’m finally cool!”

“You’ll never be cool!”

Tenma stomps his foot like a little kid before storming out of your room.

You can hear the front door slam shut all the way up to your room and if you crawl into your bed to cry right after that’s nobody’s business but yours.

And your mother’s, as it seems, because she appears at your doorstep just a few minutes later.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“No.”

“Hm, maybe not right now,” she offers at your tear-soaked voice, “but I expect an explanation until tomorrow evening, okay? Tenma’s family to me too. You know we can solve all fights with good communication.”

You don’t answer and she leaves you alone to wallow in your despair.

“Tenma wants to apologize,” Udai-san pushes him toward you. Your mother nudges you forward in much the same way.

“I don’t want you to be cool,” you say instead, the words prickly on your tongue. “I like you better when you’re not cool.”

Tenma’s eyes flutter around the room, arms crossed. Your mothers leave the room and you sink into the floor, annoyed and hurt and so many more things you can’t properly name.

“Do you really think I’m boring?” Your voice is much to vulnerable for your liking.

But it stills his nervous movement and he sinks onto the floor just like you, heavy and exhausted. You’ve never fought like this before.

“I think you’re trying to be,” he offers quietly, “but I want to you to keep playing Volleyball with me.”

“I’m just a manager.”

“Yeah, but it feels like you’re playing with me. And… and you’ve always been the smart one, okay? Everyone’s always said: Tenma, you should be more like her. She’s so smart. Can’t she tutor you? No one ever told you to play Volleyball like me. No one ever told anyone to try to be like me until now.”

“I’ve always wanted to be as creative as you,” you offer and even though he wrinkles his nose you can tell he’s touched by that.

It feels like you’re standing at a crossroads. Whatever you decide or do or say next will change the trajectory of this friendship. You’re not ready for that. You doubt you’ll ever be.

As long as there’s the safety of your past, you’ll always try to grasp it.

“Do you wanna play my dog?”

- 18 -

You’re not sure if it’s the awful music, the crowd around you, the smell of sweat and food and spilled soda, or just everything all at once, but you don’t think College parties are for you.

You recall a balcony or backdoor to your left so you move that way, push against the wall of bodies with everything that you’ve got, panic already bubbling in your throat.

Someone grabs your hand just as you’re gasping for air and with a well-aimed push you’re through, cool air hugging you like a loved relative at a family dinner.

“You good?” Tenma’s squinting down at you. He’s grown a little during break, though you doubt he’ll ever be as tall as the other guys on his former Volleyball team.

“Yeah, thanks.”

His hand is still around yours, now pulling you down the path into the dark garden.

“Where are we going?”

“Dunno, getting some fresh air into you. Met anyone you like?”

“Yeah, the fridge.”

He snickers. “What about that girl from your business Class?”

“She’s trying to eat the face of some guy I don’t know.”

“Tsukishima?”

“Pretended he didn’t know me.”

“Aww, I’m wounded.”

“I bet you are. What about you? Any hot girls tried to talk to you?”

“About that,” he knocks his elbow into your side, “one of them tried to kiss me.”

“A hot girl tried to kiss you?” He nudges you again at your incredulous tone.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m famous.”

“Bet you are,” you snicker. “But what happened? Did she realize you’re not a tall girl but a small guy and run away?”

“No,” his voice sounds weird now, but you can barely see his face in the dark, “I turned her down. Didn’t want my first kiss to happen at some party.”

“How do you want your first kiss to happen?”

“Ah,” you know he’s just shaking his head from left to right as he’s thinking, you don’t have to be able to see him for that, “Like this, you know? In the garden in the dark? That’s kinda romantic.”

“Should have brought someone else over here then.”

His hand lets go of yours.

“Right,” he says, voice weirdly tight.

“Shit, did I ruin the mood?” You ask, nudging your elbow into whatever you can reach, “I can get that hot girl for you. Just tell me what she looks like.”

“Do you wanna get KFC instead?” He must have turned his back to you. You don’t know what you said to derail this conversation, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to keep it up.

“Sure,” you agree, “but you’re paying.”

- 20 -

Tenma has started growing his hair out.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t suit him.

You’d be a filthy, awful, terrible liar if you said you didn’t want to drag your hands through it all the damn time.

“You should cut your hair,” you tell him when you meet up for lunch, “You look like a homeless guy.”

“And you look like a sexy secretary,” he jokes, pulling you in and putting you in a headlock. It feels brotherly and it’s just what you need to get through this lunchdate that’s not a date.

Somewhere in between graduating Highschool and today Tenma’s gotten hot.

Or maybe you’ve just finally gone through puberty, discovered all the hormone’s healthy teenage girls were supposed to have.

Last week you even sniffed his leather jacket when he was in the bathroom and you wished you could have put in on for a few minutes, but you feared he’d notice and how would you ever live that down?

“Did you get any feedback on that story you submitted?” You ask, trying not to overthink his comment. It’s probably meant as a loving insult, after all you’re not a secretary.

“Yes, actually, they told me they’re printing it.”

“No way,” you shut the menu again, “You’re joking, right?”

He grins. “You think I’m joking?”

“Not really, but I wanna make sure you’re being honest with me before I pay for your lunch.”

“You could let me pay and we call this a date,” he says and even though you catch yourself freezing up you can see on his face that he caught it.

“I was joking,” he tells you and if you’d be able to be honest, if you’d trust yourself not to ruin this, you’d tell him that his joking is the one thing that makes you still freeze up in fear.

After all, you don’t throw away a friendship of twenty years to a joke, right?

“I know,” you tell him pointedly, clearing your throat and opening the menu again. “Which means you’re paying for yourself.”

“Come on,” he whines, but his voice comes easy now, which means you can breathe again.

The moment is gone and somehow, you’re sure, you’ll survive the next one too.

“Can’t your girlfriend sleep in your room?” You can’t place the voice for a moment even though it sounds familiar.

“Not my girlfriend.” That’s Tenma. Who are they talking about?

“Well, if you keep having a girl over make sure she has a place to sleep that is not the living room. I need my space in the morning.”

“Sure, sure.” Tenma sounds like he’s not taking this seriously.

You blink and wipe the drool from your face.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” Tenma’s face is so close now you can smell the toothpastey-freshness of his breath.

“What day is it?” You ask, feel your jaw crack as you yawn.

“Sunday,” he pulls you up with ease, “Let’s put some of my spare clothes on you before we meet up with our parents. Or did you bring something?”

You rub your eyes as you lean on him. He might have stopped playing Volleyball, but he hasn’t lost his muscles.

The memories are slowly coming back to you. Going through his newest idea, a Manga this time. Reminiscing over old footage from his Karasuno days. Sharing one, two, maybe three beers as you giggle and swat away his hands on the Couch.

You can only hope you didn’t say or do anything embarrassing last night.

But this is Tenma. He’d let you know right away if you had.

It gets easier to live with your crush.

Tenma never mentions any girl he’s seeing or points out who he thinks is cute.

He’s pretty good at keeping in contact even when he’s so lost in his creative mind that he forgets to eat.

And while your work is equally demanding, the hours there are more regular.

It’s not uncommon to find you in his kitchen after work, growing from putting ready-to-eat food onto plates to actually preparing home-cooked meals. They’re not awful and you think that’s the highest praise you can get.

Sometimes, when it’s so late you can forget about catching a train back home and Tenma’s so tired he sounds like he’s speaking a foreign language, you end up sleeping in the same bed.

If you drag your fingertips through his hair then, hear him mumbling softly under his breath as you fall asleep, that’s your secret to keep.

- 22 -

Tenma’s a full-fledged Manga Artist now.

You got your own promotion just a short month later and as he raises another glass on your good work, the question tumbles out of you before you can stop yourself.

“Do you want to move in together?”

His grip is suddenly too tight around his glass. You can tell because you’ve grown a bit too observant lately, always way too laser-focused on where he is and what he’s doing and how he’s smelling like, freshly-showered or cozily slept-in.

“You can say if it’s a stupid idea,” you ramble on, “I mean, I’m over at your place all the time anyway to make sure you’re eating enough. It would be weird though if one of us brought home a date, but like-”

“Sure,” Tenma clears his throat, “we could move in together.”

He deflects all further questions though, whether it should be closer to his work or closer to yours, how many rooms you’ll need, and if you’ll be able to get a cat, instead filling up your glass again and again.

Eventually, you walk home arm in arm, each of you trying to support the other.

It’s a hopeless case but that doesn’t mean you’ll stop trying.

“This was fun,” you say at the train station, debating if you’ll take the train home or find some excuse to stay at his place.

You turn your head, surprised to find him this close. His eyes are wide open, dark and beautiful. He’s always had the prettiest eyes.

You’re still debating their color - more of a dark brown or maybe black - when he leans further in.

You half expect him to headbutt you when instead, his lips touch yours.

The kiss is so soft, you think you’re imagining it, along with the sigh that follows it.

But you’ve always been a realist, digging your fingernails into the skin of your arm to prove yourself you’re not dreaming. It hurts.

“Tenma?” You ask, breathless and floating, “Did you mean to do that?”

His face turns pale, eyes wide like those times you’ve pushed him into a cold shower to sober him up.

“SHIT!” He pulls away so quickly that you stumble, lose your balance and fall flat onto your ass.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Tenma’s rubbing his face with his hands, up and down, up and down, and you’re left sitting there, backbone hurting, the world spinning in the wrong direction.

“Okay, shit, this…” He’s folding himself into a tiny version of himself, just across from you on the cold sidewalk, “I didn’t meant to do this, okay? I know you think of me as your brother, so we can just pretend this never happened, okay? I’m drunk. You’re drunk. We’re going to have forgotten about this tomorrow-”

“Tenma?” You interrupt him, your voice weirdly cloud-like. “Are you in love with me?”

He deflates like a balloon, there’s even a little whistling sound coming out of his mouth when he further shrinks into himself.

“Maybe?” He squeaks out. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, though-”

“I love you too.”

There. You’ve said it. You can’t take it back. Maybe you’ve misunderstood a lot of things tonight, you’ll for sure be able to blame the alcohol for it, but you don’t kiss people you don’t like, right? Especially not if you waited twenty-two years for that.

Wait, did Tenma even wait that long? Is this even his first kiss like it’s yours?

“Why didn’t you say something?”

You blink, shaken out of your musings by the petulance in his voice.

“You didn’t ask.”

- 24 -

You’re not sure what wakes you, but his side of the bed is empty and cold.

You push yourself up with a groan, hiss when your feet touch the freezing ground.

You don’t have to look long to find him, hair disheveled, eyes foggy.

“Hey,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your chin on top of his head, “I miss you.”

“Sorry,” he yawns, “I’ll be in bed in a minute.”

“You said that four hours ago,” you remind him, leaning further into him, “can you still see what you’re drawing?”

“If I lose this idea-” he starts before a loud, jaw-cracking yawn cuts through his sentence.

You unwrap yourself to dig your thumbs into his shoulders, press a well-aimed kiss underneath his left ear.

“Come to bed,” you're not surprised when he follows you without another argument.

Last week one of your coworkers mentioned off-handedly that your boyfriend looks like a delinquent, all long hair and dark shadows, the hint of a stubble and a shirt he forgot to iron.

You weren’t meant to hear it, you’re sure, but you don’t care anyway.

He curls around you now, long limbs and warm hands, head resting heavy on your chest.

You drag your fingers through his hair, up and down and up and down, tell him about all the plans you have until you fall asleep along-side him.

“Look at you,” Saeko pulls you into a hug, “You’re practically glowing.”

You snort. “Don’t tell that to my mom. She’s started asking about grandchildren.”

“Yours too?” Akiteru jokes, turning from you to Tenma. “Are your parents united on the grandchildren front or are they more like ours?”

“No, no,” Tenma shakes his head, “My mom is just as insistent that we get started. Our mom’s are best friends for a reason.”

“And they never tried to set you up?” Saeko waves at someone across the streat before dragging you onto the seat next to her, “I smell a story.”

“I’m not sure my mom really cared about it as long as we stayed friends,” you think back. “But there was that time when she asked me to stop taking baths with you.”

Tenma’s face turns pink.

“I remember that time well.” He laughs along with the others, but your hand finds his under the table, squeezes tight.

You like to think that he fell first but you fell harder, but he disagrees.

If anything, he likes to say, I love you most.

“I say,” Saeko interrupts your thoughts, slinging an arm around you, “we play it like your parents. We just have to have babies around the same time and the rest will be history.”

“Don’t get ideas,” Akiteru says but you know him, he’s just as helpless against Saeko’s charm as you are.

“Not the worst idea she’s had,” Tenma whispers into your ear.

- 26 -

“Morning Udai-San,” Akaashi greets you.

“I told you to call me by my first name,” you tell him, laughing when he blushes a soft pink. “How’s it going, anyway?”

“Good. We’re actually on schedule, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Hmm, I get it.” You resist the urge to tousle his hair. “Is Tenma in his office?”

“Yes, I was just going to get coffee. You want some as well?”

“No, but thanks for asking. What are you getting for Tenma?”

“Two shots of espresso and extra sugar.”

“Make it one shot and I’ll make sure you get a promotion,” you wink and he winks back, slipping out of the office.

“Baby?” You ask, slipping through the door.

Tenma’s leaning heavily onto his desk, one hand playing with his hair as he thinks.

“Hmm?” He sits up, opens his arms to welcome you. “Hey, what brings you here?”

“I left Naoki with Saeko and Mi, they were playing so nicely.”

He smiles as you plant yourself on his lap, sink into him like you’re not much bigger than your toddler and not the grown woman you are.

“You good?” Tenma asks, rubbing a hand over your back. “You seem in your head today.”

“Yeah, I am, I just…” You sigh and turn your head to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you stayed my friend.”

“Where’s that coming from?”

“I was thinking about how I don’t have that much patience. I don’t know if I’d kept crushing on you for as long as you kept crushing on me. What if you’d have given up? We wouldn’t have gotten together.”

He hooks his head over yours, wraps his arms a little more snuggly around you.

“Listen, I didn’t stay your friend because I was hoping you’d one day see me as more. I stayed your friend because I’d rather have you as my friend than nothing at all. After all you’re the best friend I ever had.”

“Even though I made you play my husband, my dog and my dragon?”

“Especially because of that.”

“Did you have fun playing with Mi?” Tenma asks your thirteen-month-old.

The bathroom door is open and you can hear them splash around in the bathtub.

“Mi,” Naoki repeats with excitement.

“Yep, Mi. Now, can you say Dada too?”

“Mama.”

Tenma laughs, easy and carefree and you leave the dishes in the sink in favor of joining him.

After all, the dishes won’t run away, but those little moments with your family might.

238 notes · View notes

writing-havoc · 2 years ago

Note

HII! HOW ARE YOU? Okay so i have a kaz brekker x reader request but it's kinda meh but i just can't stop thinking about it. And it's kinda similar to your fic 'high' (my favorite piece of media EVER)

So fem!reader (or gn whichever is easier for you<3) drunk and makes fun of the way kaz talks and his hair and the way how he's really bossy. (I would so call him emo king) and he's just trying to get her to take a bath (be a fish) and rest.

Please please don't feel pressured you can just ignore this. Don't forget to drink water. Have a nice day or night love youu<3

Loverboy

♡ Summary: Kaz comes and fetches you after you have a bit too much to drink. Getting you to bathe and rest for the night is a little more difficult than he remembers.

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Alcohol, Nudity (not smut)

♡ WC: 3.5k

Hello hello!!! Thank you for your request <3 I'm doing pretty alright thank you for asking. I hope you're doing okay!

I loved being prompted to expand on this and experiment with how it would go. To be honest that's also one of my fav pieces of work that I've done, and I'm glad someone else holds the same joy for it that I do!

Anyway, here it is!! Hope you enjoy it anon, ly <3

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

"Oh for Ghezen's sake just put one foot in front of the other." Kaz nipped, pushing just a bit harder on your back.

Your head was lolling back and to the side, unwillingly looking at the stars. Yet your eyes remain half closed, barely a fraction of your pupil visible in the moonlight. A smile is painted on your face the whole time, lips chapped and cracked from dehydration. "'M tryin' Kaz. But my head is just, so heavy and the stars 're so pretty."

"I know I know- hold on to the cane- the cane!"

He shouldn't have let you have those last few drinks, but unfortunately you batted your little lashes and made the same little promises you do after enough time has passed for his memories to become just a little bit muddled and forget how far from the truth your promises are.

You'll say you'll be fine. You'll say you'll get home safe. You'll say you'll see him soon.

But you can't really fulfill any of those. So he at least has the foresight to stay with you, or to have someone else stay with you and come get him when you down more than your promised two or three.

And he makes a big deal out of it, saying all these things and talking like he's annoyed with you, but really?

He's not.

Not as much as he thinks he should be anyway. If he had heard anybody else complaining as much as he does in his own head he'd stuff his own glove in their mouth and tell them to deal with their inadequate relationship elsewhere.

But it's him, and it's you, and it's different.

You're not like them. You're not violent or a verbal tyrant or negligent.

"Did I ever tell you..." You start, then chuckle to yourself when you straighten up and sway around. "Did I ever tell you that kin'a remind me of a cat with your hair slicked back like that?"

You're,,, silly. And he feels silly saying that but you are. It's the perfect word to describe you when you get like this. Light jabs at the things you like about him, your feet walking to a rhythm in your head that makes you stop and go and speed and slow at random, laughing at the most mundane things.

"I don't believe you have, no." You definitely have. But he allows you to repeat it.

The Slat is wonderfully empty as he opens the door. Only a few people occupy the tables off to the side, but they're just as drunk as you are, and he doubts they can see this far from their drooling.

"Come on." He leads you over to the stairs. "Up we go."

You lean on the rail, shaking your head, smile gone. "Mh-mhn. I can't." You continue to shake your head, eyes closed. "Your leg is bad."

Silly.

"Good observation. Your legs, however, are fine, if a bit wobbly. Up you come." He tries again to coax you up, to no avail. You lean on the rail more, even pushing into it.

He forgot how much you resemble an ox when it comes to getting you to do something. It's like you contain this ability to just plant yourself anywhere and stick no matter the force that's pulling or pushing you.

"Your leg is bad. I can't go up."

"My bad leg does not effect your ability to walk up the stairs." He says as gentle as possible.

"But it does."

He sighs. "Could you explain to me why that is?"

Your bottom lip pushes out just barely, eyes opening and looking at him through your lashes. It's a look that would have any man in Kerch on their knees, he's sure of it. "Need your help."

His heart sunk. "Just grab the railing and my cane, dove. I'll take my good leg up first."

You analyzed the stairs, scrutinizing them. "Promise?"

"You know I don't make-"

"Promise?" A hint of anger bubbled in your tone, the same firmness in your eyes when you snapped your head to look at him.

He takes a deep breath. "I promise."

And just like that you were ready to ascend the stairs. You grabbed the railing, clumsily reaching out for his cane which he gave readily.

Even in your drunken state, you knew exactly which stairs creaked and which ones were just this side of broken. You skipped a stair, glaring at it as Kaz ascended with his good leg first, then continued with your usual lax expression.

He tried to step with his bad leg, but you immediately backtracked and held his cane firmly, holding him back as well. "You promised." You bit out.

"I did." He switched back, good leg going up, slowly edging you along. "It just slipped my mind."

"Nothin' slips your mind." You pouted, begrudgingly ascending when the cane went too far to hold close.

"Important things," he corrected. "Important things don't slip my mind."

You yanked on the cane, making him look at you. "You're important."

And he... doesn't know what to do with that.

Of course in whatever realm you were occupying he'd be important. He's important for a lot of things. His businesses, his club, whatever constitutes as leader of the crows.

It's not that he thinks he's not important. He just forgets to take into account that with you, he's important in the little things too.

Pointing him where to massage on his leg when it's giving him trouble, bringing him fresh tea when he tries to drink the day old stuff pushed to the corner of his desk, at least reminding him to sleep when the clock reaches two bells in the dark hours.

And right now, when you force him to take the pressure off his poorly healed shin.

"You're right." He confirms, helping you to the top of the stairs. "I am. Now come on."

When he began to lead you to his room, you groaned and stood in place. "Noo. I don' wanna fish."

His mouth struggled to stay in a line, corners quirking up. "You have to fish. You're sweaty and you smell like alcohol."

"I's a good smell."

"You gag in the morning when you smell it."

"Hogwash, you walking shadow."

He tugged you along, walking ahead of you and up the stairs to the attic. His help wasn't much needed here with how narrow and more secure the steps were, but you needed the extra hand to coax you up and towards your inevitable bath.

His office was dark, the only thing preventing the room from being cast in complete darkness was the street lights outside pushes a faint yellow glow through the window.

A lantern was stored in a bookcase next to the door for this reason. He clipped his cane onto his belt and hooked a finger under the handle, giving you little assurances that he wasn't going to let you fall while he navigated the room he knew by heart.

He parked you by his makeshift desk, guiding your hands to the desktop for some leverage while he rustled through a cabinet for the matches.

Immediately you were enthralled with the fire. Nina thinks you were an Inferni in your past life, and he finds the idea hard to not believe as he watches your once droopy eyes widen and follow the ball of fire in his hand as it lights the lantern.

He closes the shade, putting out the match and watching you smile as the whole room lights up.

"So bright." You whisper, as if it's your first time seeing fire.

He shrugs off his coat, throwing it over the back of his chair. "Very. Don't touch it."

You pout, taking your hand away. "I don't know what you're referring to."

He takes the lantern from where it rests on the desk, unhooking his cane and walking to the bathroom. "Come take your bath."

"'Come take your bath'." You mock him. "You're a bossy bossy man, you know that?"

He can't see you as he hangs the lantern on a hook, but he knows your hands are on your hips and your head cocked to the side. You always became so sassy when the initial fuzziness seems to wear off.

"It's what im paid for." He calls, swirling the basin of water he had filled up before he left. It was only expected that you should get a bath tonight, and he didn't want to wake anybody now of all times to come and fill it up.

"Youre not getting paid right now."

He didn't have any soap. He used up all of his last time and you usually keep yours tucked in your room, eager to hide its existence from greedy hands.

Just water will have to do, since he doesn't trust you to not fall asleep in the time it will take to go to your room and retrieve yours from your spare set of shoes.

He exits the bathroom, coming face to face with you. "I should be with how I'm ordering you around right now."

He waves you over, and it seems at this point you're becoming too tired to really fight back. You shrug off your outer layers, leaving them in a pile on the floor that you attempt to kick to the side. It's seems you think that you did away with them well enough, but really you just kind of spread them around.

That will have to come later, he thinks, and then puts a hand on your bare shoulder as you take off your shirt, throwing it over the side of the basin. Your pants come off and are thrown at its base, shoes somehow already off in the time span it took to check the tub and come retrieve you, socks following.

"You can keep your undergarments on if you'd like." He says, resting his cane against the wall.

"Oh don't get shy on me now, Kaz. You've seen me naked at least a dozen times." You look back at him, a shit eating smirk on your face.

He's thankful for the warm lantern light to obscure the warmth creeping up his neck and nipping at his ears. "Only because we end up in situations like these. It's more efficient to just get you clean now than have you complain in the morning and almost throw up in the tub."

You moan, the sound throaty and like gravel. "I don't wanna be a fish."

"You dont have to be one for long. Just a few minutes until you're clean."

"Can' be clean if there's no soap."

"We can at least get most of the grime off. Come on, one leg over the other."

Slowly, you climb into the tub, Kaz helping you get in with minimal sloshing.

And now comes the hard part.

His gloves are made of leather. He can't dunk and soak them in the water and expect them to be fine later.

They come off quicker than last time, but just as shakey. He puts on two pairs of cloth ones he's kept in here since the third time this happened, when it became apparent that this would happen again and several more times after.

Once they're on he flexes his hand, feeling the cold unforgiving waves slosh at his knees and lick up his thighs.

It's not the same. It's a bath. It's you.

"Can you get your body?" He asks, though. Because as much as he'd like to be of some help here he can't help but need to touch you the least amount as possible.

You think it over, stretching out as much as the tub allows before nodding. "M'yeah, I can do it."

He hands you a rag, watching it sink under the water and become several shades darker.

He turns around and allows you to do your thing, but knows your routine from when you, Nina, and Jesper had a heated debate about which order to wash your body in.

You'll wash your neck and chest first, digging into your collars bones and over your shoulders, then do you arms, followed by your torso and around your back. Then you'll scrub at your legs, moving to your face, then your waist, then your feet.

It'll take about ten minutes to go over every part, scrubbing in places you think have the most grime, and all the while having your shampoo already scrubbed into your hair so that you can rinse everything out all at once.

But you're tired and drunk, and he doesn't know how far you'll make it down your list until you eventually get frustrated or too exhausted or both.

He listens to the water in the tub move as your scrub yourself beneath its surface. A throaty hum emanates from your throat, a tune oddly familiar to the song that plays in the club filling the room.

Every once in a while you'll sigh, the water halting. He'll lean back and ask if you're alright, and you'll hum and get right back to scrubbing.

It's fifteen minutes before you say anything.

"You alright t' do my hair?"

His stomach churns, acid bubbling at its entrance.

"Ill be fine."

He turns, gesturing with his finger for you to lean your head into the water.

There's a pause before he reaches into the cold depths, wondering if he actually /will/ be fine.

When you look at him, eyes rimmed in red and glassy, he scrounges up whatever stability and modicum of the word "cope" he has and dunks them in.

Immediately he finds your hair, burying his fingers between the strands and finding your scalp.

It's hard to feel anything besides temperature with these gloves, and your head is practically burning against the cool water.

You're definitely cold. He can tell by your flushed cheeks and the way you curl your arms around your waist, goosebumps littering your arms. Yet you remain warm under his touch.

He watches the little hairs on your arm wave in the bath current as he scrubs, almost hypnotizing in their back and forth movement as you move to let them rest against your thighs.

But it's not enough.

He's scrubbing your hair, trying so hard to just focus on the grime under his fingers as his hands make the cold water slosh. The feeling is oddly familiar to the waves coating his hands as they dunk half under as he clings to blue flesh.

But you look at him, and your giggle is like little bells that keep him above water, just for the moment.

"You know what you look like?" You ask. "You look like- oh, what's that new style they got goin' on?"

He has no idea what you're talking about. Fashion trends are far beneath his radar unless necessary for a job.

You snap your fingers, pointing up at him. "Emo!"

That makes his eyebrows raise. Because he is familiar with Emo, because a bunch of kids called him that when they were out much past their bedtime. They found it necessary to shout it at him while he was passing by, laughing as they ran into an alleyway.

"I don't think that's accurate." He manages to get out, dunking your head a little further to cover your ears and get the wisps of hair in front of them.

"It's sooo accurate." You draw out your o's, blinking slowly and out of sync. "Emo king."

He sighs. "Whatever you say, little fish."

You pout, moving away from him and turning belly down, chin dipping into the water. "I thought I was your dove."

Again, thankful for that warm light. It makes his stomach feel all twisty the way you say "your". For just a moment, he let's himself smile, really smile, and puts his chin on his hands. "You are. But right now, you're a fish."

You huff, turning back and putting your head within reach. "Okay, mister emo cat."

He sighs, beginning to scrub at the parts of your scalp that he already got but feels he needs to do another once over for. "I am neither emo nor a cat."

"Tell that to your hair, loverboy."

Loverboy.

He scoffs, taking his hands from your hair. "Your hair's done. Get out so you can dry off."

You laugh at your accomplishment, sitting up and scrunching your hair as he discards his wet gloves on a towel rack and dries himself off.

Honestly, loverboy? He's not some lovesick puppy. Loverboy applies to those who are unfathomably whipped, wrapped around their partners finger and touching at all times. It has no place being in the same sentence that his likeness occupies except to say that he is not a 'loverboy'.

He hands you a towel as you get out of the tub, heading to his closet to fetch you some of his clothes.

"An old one, please?" You yell out to him.

"I know." He calls back.

If he can help it he replaces his button ups every few months. But you like the ones that are just around that area of wear and tear. In your words, they "ain't tight and smell like him. Win win."

He doesn't bother with pants, but grabs a pair of his underwear for you to change into instead that he knows you'll find more comfortable.

As he limps back to the bathroom, he halts as he analyzes his thoughts and actions.

Fuck. Maybe he /does/ deserve the name Loverboy.

The realization almost makes him groan and sit down on the floor right then and there.

Can't he just carve his heart out? Isn't that what the poets and song writers do?

Alas, he is neither a poet nor a musician. So he will instead take the long way out, and bring you his clothes and get you into into his bed before the third bell chimes.

He hands you the clothes, watching your face light up for a moment before he exits to his office to clean up the mess you made.

The beak of his cane hooks under your coat, dragging it up and into his hand which he then throws onto the chair. You hate getting it off the coat rack, half the time pulling it with you when you take your coat back. So he sets it here for now, and takes your shoulder bag and shoes and organizes them around the chair just as you usually do.

"I think I found my new look."

He turns around, seeing you trying to pose against the wall. It's supposed to be sultry and sexy, but it definitely does not read that way with your soaked hair, stiff back, and uncooperative limbs.

"If you think so." He nearly chuckles, taking his gloves from your hands and slipping them onto his own, and then retrieves the lantern from the bathroom. "Come to bed."

Thankfully, you seem to love the idea of the bed. It doesn't take much to lead you to the little nook he calls his bedroom. He hooks the lantern to the wall as your body slumps onto his partially eaten sheets.

"Mmm." You hum, smile hidden under your squashed cheek. "Warm."

"Doubtful." He jabs, unfolding a blanket at the foot of the bed and draping it over you.

"It really is. Should try it sometime." You poke at the space beneath your eye, tongue sticking out.

He assumes you're referencing the eye bags that have taken permanent residence on his face, to which he rolls his eyes and hikes up the blanket to cover your back. You hate the cold creeping in.

If you wake up cold in the morning, you will be cold for the rest of the day. And unfortunately for you, you have a job in about six hours.

The less you have to complain about, the better.

"Ill try it later." He promises. "For now, you need it more."

You mumble something, but with the way your eyes are drooping he figures you're not even aware you said anything at all.

As you doze off, he half sits on his nightstand, and watches your breathing begin to slow and even out. It's loud at first, but eventually you grow quieter and quieter, muscles relaxing as you sink into his hard mattress.

Your hair is thrown about everywhere, still wet from your bath, and you'll need Nina to remove a kink in your shoulder in the morning. But for now, you're calm, and safe, and that's enough.

He takes a deep breath, just the same as you do, and then sighs.

"Goodnight, little fish." He mumbles, and then stands, off to collect the ingredients for a hangover tonic and catch up on paperwork.

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Tags:

@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @a-candle-maker

#ask #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows fanfic #six of crows x reader #six of crows x y/n #six of crows x you #six of crows imagine #fanfic #anon

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uwuyangeppie · 5 months ago

Note

love your yan!geppie posts! there needs to be more of that on this site hehe

if he and his darling were separated by the underworld lockdown, do you think he'll break the rules just to drag them back? or he'll endure those 10 years... and immediately rush in once the lockdown is lifted? thank you!

thank you! ur right btw cause when i looked for posts on here there was like next to nothing and i was so distraught lol. anyway-

i think that he’d have to endure it.

the supreme guardian that enforced that lockdown in the first place was cocolia, and in the trailblazer quest she definitely thought of those that lived underground as lesser.

gepard would dream up scenarios of him going down there and taking you back up with him. he’d brainstorm reasons as to why you should be the should be the sole exception to the lockdown.

but in reality, the landau family has served the supreme guardian for generations, without question, and he, (poor middle child that he is) could never be any different. so gepard sits and he does his duty day after day, week after week, and as months turn into years, he tries to comes with grips that he’ll never see you again.

and then the astral express arrives. cocolia dies. and bronya lifts the lockdown.

he barely has the restraint to keep himself above ground, fulfilling his role as he has all these years- but it’s all worth it to see your bright face coming up those stairs.

of course, your reaction could differ.

if gepard hasn’t acted beyond daydreams and stutters and flustered speech, you might be happy to see his face again. a little thrilled, even, feeling your cheeks heat up as your eyes meet his.

if you felt eyes on you while you were walking home at night, pre-lockdown, then perhaps you go up those stairs nervously. although you were initially swept up by the excitement, your memories start to surface when the cold breeze hits your face. you find all your questions answered, though, when you meet gepard’s gaze.

if you already know how deep gepard’s “affection” for you runs, then you would’ve run down there in a desperate attempt to escape from him. be it one of many or the first ever, the lockdown comes as a form of salvation. gepard hits rock bottom, and you are permanently on cloud nine. when the news of the lockdown ending reaches you, it comes with the heavy realisation that soon, you’ll be back in his arms.

#i like commas can you tell #asked and answered #requests are open #just to make it clear and all #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #yandere gepard #yandere gepard x reader

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demensrage · 22 days ago

Text

i for i want to see you with him ⚊ • . with alucard tepes

summary: he notices the way you look at his best friend, he can't hide how much it turns him on to see you so close to him. after talking about it, you decide to invite him to dinner, all that's left is to get him to agree to fuck you.

cw: established relationship, fem!reader, voyeurism, fingering, 69 position, doggy style, hair pulling, spanking, dom!trevor, hickeys, mating press, praise kink.

word count: 6.4k

Alucard watched you as you adjusted your red silk dress, a garment that enhanced your soft curves like the waves caressing the shore. In that moment, he understood that the dress was made for you, a gift reflecting your unique beauty.

That night, dinner promised to be an important event, a tribute dedicated to you, his woman. It was a celebration of the pleasure he had drawn from your lips, an echo of the moans that used to escape your mouth in moments of shared ecstasy.

During the past two weeks, he had noticed how you licked your lips upon seeing him, how you sighed and blushed at the slightest accidental touch from Trevor. Every gesture of yours made him feel a mix of adoration and desire, more intense than the fear of losing you. Since you entered their lives, Alucard had always known that he wanted you for himself. Trevor, for his part, was fully aware that his interest in you was no deeper than what Alucard already felt.

He stepped aside, showing no sign of needing to claim the woman Alucard already considered his. Because that was what you were—his. It didn't bother you; your husband's way of loving was intense, like a destructive storm that swept everything in its path, leaving behind chaos that transformed into calm. That's how he made your heart feel while his body offered you the serenity that only comes after the storm.

However, it was hard to admit that you felt sexually attracted to his friend, someone your husband considered a brother, a part of his family. You felt ashamed, like a bad wife for harboring those feelings. Then, hiding that attraction became a heavy burden until, inevitably, the bomb exploded and your husband found out.

You were surprised to see that Alucard did not take the news poorly. In fact, while he was giving you pleasure that very morning, he urged you to think that it was not him who filled you with desire, but Trevor. Your beloved and adorable husband validated your feelings, choosing to be understanding and willing to offer you what your mind had been longing for.

The night was full of promises, where your darkest and most primal desires would be fulfilled by your husband, with the help of his friend. All that remained was to wait for that dinner to serve as a bridge to desire and acceptance from Trevor.

You descended the castle stairs, with your husband by your side, always by your side; never behind, never ahead, except in specific situations. You glanced at him, searching for a hint of regret on his face, wondering if you should take a step back at the possibility that your feelings might hurt him. “Adrian,” you whispered his name softly, intertwining your hands with his. “No…”

“Everything will be alright, dear,” he interrupted your words immediately. His eyes locked onto yours, and you saw nothing but love in them: no regret, no doubt. You could even sense a hint of desire. “I’m being indulgent with all of this too.” His words surprised you. You fell silent, any immediate response fading from your lips. You frowned, intrigued, and asked him, “What do you mean?”

“We will both be pleased tonight, my love,” he paused for a moment to caress your cheeks, holding your gaze. “You with Trevor, and I watching.” Then, his lips placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.

The sound of forks against plates filled the comfortable silence reigning at the table. For none of you was it strange to be there sharing; it was a regular part of your routine. However, Trevor couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the way his friend looked at him, as if he were about to hold back words that would have to come out sooner or later.

“The monsters have stayed away from Wallachia,” Trevor said, trying to break the silence. “So I’m thinking of moving to another town to keep hunting them.”

Both of them looked at him as if he had gone mad. There was no reason to leave, to keep putting his life in danger when Dracula was no longer among them. Concern reflected on their faces, a mix of disbelief and a desire to protect their friend from unnecessary dangers.

“You’ve lost your mind,” Alucard muttered, setting his food aside and looking at his friend with disapproval. “Do you even know what it means to rest?”

“I’ve rested enough. I’m not asking you to come with me,” huffed Trevor, cutting a piece of meat and bringing it to his mouth. “Hey, brother, you’re married, you have a beautiful family here, and there’s no reason to fight anymore. I have nothing tying me to one place.” “You have us,” you complained, feeling hurt by his condescending words. Despite his tone, you knew there was truth in what he said. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I’m not going to be the third wheel,” Trevor said bluntly, not measuring the impact of his words on you both.

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. You looked at your husband with pleading eyes, wishing he could change Trevor’s stubborn decision. You weren’t doing it out of selfishness, but because you knew Trevor was the most important pillar in Alucard’s life. The idea of Trevor leaving meant taking away an essential part of the man you loved, and you wanted your husband whole, not fragmented.

“I have a proposal for you,” Alucard murmured, picking up his fork again and resuming his meal. “You’re not obliged to accept, but it’s something important for us.”

“I know you want to tell me something since I arrived at the castle. Just say it already,” Trevor said, turning his gaze from his plate to the blond man.

“I want you to be with my wife.” Those words came from Alucard’s lips with surprising naturalness. “And I’m talking about in a sexual way.”

Your breath caught as you heard him. It was already said; there was no turning back. It confused you to know that he had used your desires to keep Trevor in this situation. “It’s just an idea, nothing formal or mandatory,” you whispered, diverting your gaze to anywhere but the man who was watching you so intently.

“Are you asking me to fuck your wife?” Trevor asked incredulously, letting out a raw, mocking laugh. “Come on, stop joking. You’re not going to buy my stay with sex, Alucard.”

But none of you said anything because it wasn’t a joke. Not for you, at least. It was a genuine request, an offer laden with palpable tension that made the air in the room feel thick.

Trevor’s laughter slowly faded as he looked at Alucard, his expression transforming into a mix of surprise and confusion. The gravity of the situation began to sink in. “Are you serious?” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, as if he feared that saying it out loud would make it more real.

“Of course I am,” Alucard replied, his gaze fixed on Trevor, his tone firm and resolute. “It’s not a transaction; it’s an opportunity. I want us all to be happy, and I know this could be what we need.”

Your heart raced in your chest, a mix of desire and anxiety coursing through your body. You knew this moment would change everything, that crossing this line could lead to a new level of intimacy, both between you and Trevor and between you and Alucard. It was a risk, but also a promise of pleasure and connection.

“This is… complicated,” you murmured, feeling every heavy word slide from your lips. “What if this pulls us apart instead of bringing us together?”

“That depends on how we handle it,” Alucard said, his gaze still intense. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to decide right now. I just want you to consider the possibility.”

Trevor looked at you, his eyes searching yours, trying to understand how you felt about it. “And you? What do you think of all this?”

You looked into his eyes, maintaining the connection between your gazes. A knot began to form in your stomach, but it wasn’t from annoyance; it was the anxiety of what might happen if he agreed. “It was my idea,” you whispered, feeling the words vibrate in the air.

Trevor’s expression changed, a mix of surprise and understanding illuminating his face. “Really?” The incredulity had faded, replaced by a glimmer of curiosity. “I didn’t think you wanted this.”

“It’s just that… I’ve felt drawn to the idea,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. The flush on your cheeks betrayed the intensity of your emotions, a mix of nerves and desire.

Trevor nodded slowly, weighing your words. His gaze turned thoughtful, as if he were evaluating the proposal in his mind. “Am I the best fit for this?” he asked, his tone more serious now.

You nodded, feeling vulnerable but determined. You didn’t want to confess that your feelings went beyond a simple idea, that there was something deeply attractive about the connection between the three of you. “We trust you,” you said firmly, searching for a way to convey all that this trust meant.

The atmosphere grew thick with the tension of what was at stake. Trevor, with his intense and curious gaze, seemed to contemplate not just the proposal, but also the possibility of a new kind of relationship. “I don’t want this to ruin what we already have,” he finally said, his voice low but clear.

You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palm. “It won’t, I promise.” You looked at your husband, seeking his approval, knowing that he was in favor of exploring this new dimension of desire.

“It’s just sex; it doesn’t have to cause us problems,” you asserted, your voice firm despite the excitement bubbling within you. The idea of letting Trevor touch you, of experimenting with him under Alucard’s watchful gaze, ignited a spark of lust that you couldn’t ignore.

Trevor watched you with a mix of desire and challenge in his eyes, his breathing growing heavier as the tension among the three of you became palpable. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his words filled with provocative curiosity.

“More than sure,” you replied, feeling the desire begin to take hold of you. “I want to explore this, and I think you do too.”

Alucard smiled, a look of approval lighting up his face. “Then there’s no reason to hesitate. Just let yourself go,” he said, his voice low and seductive, like an echo resonating in the darkest corner of your mind.

Alucard was seated in a perfectly placed armchair in the corner of the room, his presence almost ethereal yet powerful. He silently watched as Trevor eagerly grabbed your hips, pulling you onto his lap, straddling him. The sound of his breathing mixed with the wet smacking of his lips as he devoured your mouth with a voracious intensity. His tongue sought yours, a deep and lustful kiss fueled by the impatience of someone who had contained their desire for far too long.

There was no surprise in the fact that your husband wanted to watch. The signs had always been there. From the moment he carefully chose that armchair, saying it would look good in the corner, to the times he caught you in private moments, touching yourself, and instead of intervening, he would quietly sit back to watch, enjoying the show you offered without asking for permission.

Your thoughts blended with the pleasure. Trevor wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t brutal either; he was pure desire. His mouth descended along your neck, leaving wet, red marks while his firm hands roamed over you, gripping your waist with need.

“That’s right... let go,” Alucard’s voice cut through the silence, soft but loaded with intention. It wasn’t a command but an invitation to let go of any thought, to completely immerse yourself in the lust that ruled the night.

A moan escaped your lips as Trevor squeezed the flesh of your ass with a possessive force, his fingers leaving marks with clear intent. Your hands clung to his shirt, gripping it desperately as you gave yourself over completely to the whirlwind of pleasure consuming you.

Trevor pulled his lips away from yours, leaving a trail of short, wet kisses down your neck. Each touch of his mouth on your skin sent waves of heat throughout your body. In a swift movement, he yanked down your dress, exposing your breasts. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking hard as his tongue caressed it hungrily. You could feel the heat of his breath, the wet glide of his tongue contrasting with the cool air of the room, making your nipples harden even more.

His free hand didn’t remain idle. He grasped your other breast, pinching and pulling at your nipple with a mix of firmness and pleasure, making you moan louder, your body responding without restraint. You arched into him, craving more, needing more, as your breath came in short gasps. Trevor knew exactly how to touch you, how to make your body beg for what your mind could barely process.

From the armchair, Alucard watched in silence, his gaze fixed on every movement, every sound you made. His eyes gleamed with dark desire, completely focused on the scene before him. Each of your moans, every gasp, only fueled the fire burning inside him.

The feeling of your wet panties clinging to your skin was almost unbearable, each brush against your sensitive folds intensifying the heat building inside you. Alucard’s steady gaze from the corner only fanned the flames of your desire, making you tremble with anticipation. You knew he wasn’t there to intervene but to watch and enjoy the show that both he and you had craved.

Your fingers tangled in Trevor’s brown hair, tugging as you pushed him closer to your chest, desperately seeking more contact, more pressure, more of everything. You could feel his lips, his tongue, working on you with a precision that left you on the edge. Every suck, every gentle bite on your nipple sent sparks of pleasure through your body, causing your back to arch involuntarily.

You let your head fall back, a deep moan escaping your lips as you surrendered completely to the sensation. Trevor’s hands never stopped roaming over your skin, as if he knew exactly where to touch, where to press to elicit those sounds he loved so much. The room was thick with tension, with that primal desire that enveloped all three of you, and Alucard’s gaze remained there, persistent, never looking away for a second from what was happening between you and his friend.

The sound of your ragged breathing filled the air, growing louder, more desperate, as you instinctively moved on Trevor's lap, seeking relief for the need that was spiraling out of control inside you.

Trevor effortlessly lifted you, his strong hands gripping your backside as he turned you to lay you down on the bed. The air filled with the tearing sound of fabric as your dress ripped apart, revealing your skin under the soft light of the room. His gaze traced every inch of your body with an intensity that made you burn inside.

His large, rough hands settled on your knees, slowly spreading your legs apart. The evident wetness between your thighs immediately caught his attention, and an arrogant smile appeared on his lips. There was no room for inhibitions, not that night.

Calmly, Trevor slid his palms up the insides of your thighs, provoking a slight shiver in your body. Gradually, his hands reached your hips, taking hold of the edge of your soaked panties and pulling them down in a slow motion, enjoying every second as he dragged them down your legs until they were completely gone. You let out a sigh heavy with anticipation, feeling the cool breeze caress your bare skin. Alucard's unwavering gaze was still on you, fueling your desire while Trevor watched you as if you were his only priority.

Trevor's breath became heavier as his palm settled firmly on your center, pressing your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make your back arch. You felt a wave of heat sweep through your body as your legs trembled slightly under his touch. He slid two of his fingers through your folds to gently part you, revealing everything he wanted to see, never stopping to observe every little reaction he elicited from you.

His dark, desire-laden eyes never left your core, devouring you with his gaze, relishing the effect he had on you. You bit your lower lip, trying to stifle your moans, but the fire inside you grew out of control.

Unable to help yourself, your hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing them tightly to relieve the sharp pang of need building within them. Your fingers pinched your nipples, seeking the relief that Trevor wasn’t yet giving you, while he watched you as if every moan and every shiver were a reward he couldn't let pass.

"Three fingers and she's happy," Alucard murmured, his deep tone heavy with desire, as his eyes followed every one of your movements. The sound of his husky voice cut through the air thick with lust, sending a shiver down your spine. You saw him from the corner of the room, settled in the armchair like a privileged spectator of your indulgence, his hand stroking his erection with a mix of patience and need.

Trevor smiled at his friend's words, sliding his fingers to your entrance, teasing you with an almost torturous gentleness. "Let's find out," he murmured playfully, his eyes fixed on yours, enjoying the control he had over your body. With exasperating slowness, he pushed the first finger inside you, feeling how your walls adjusted around him, so wet and willing. He didn’t wait long before inserting a second finger, stretching you gently as his movements intensified.

Your moans filled the room, mingling with Alucard's soft gasps, who watched your every reaction as if it were an intimate study of your deepest pleasures. "Always so willing," Trevor murmured, his eyes blazing with desire as he added a third finger, just as Alucard had suggested. The sensation was intense, each of his movements causing your body to arch against the bed, your hands still toying with your breasts as the pleasure surged in uncontrollable waves.

The pressure inside you was building, and your breathing was becoming more and more ragged, your moans ragged filling the air. You knew you were close, your hips pushing against Trevor’s fingers, seeking more, needing more. Alucard didn’t look away, his breathing heavy as he stroked his erection, enjoying the show you both gave him.

Deliberately, you dropped your legs onto the bed, feeling more exposed, more vulnerable. Need burned in you, a lust that drove you to move, to invite him to go deeper, faster. Your body craved his touch, and the pressure in your belly intensified with each passing second.

“She doesn’t want subtlety,” Alucard commented, his voice low and seductive as he stared intently. “Don’t be delicate, Trevor. She likes it rough and fast.” His instructions were firm, almost like a command, and you knew Trevor would take them seriously. The smile that spread across his face confirmed that he appreciated this freedom to explore what excited you the most.

With a slight movement of your hips, you encouraged him to continue, wanting his fingers to be more daring. And he was quick to respond. Trevor increased the pace, sinking his fingers harder, pushing you to the edge of ecstasy. The pressure inside you intensified, and each thrust of his fingers made your moans become more intense, more desperate.

Alucard settled himself better in his chair, watching intently as Trevor began to lose himself in your body. His friend's instructions became a wild dance, and soon, the sounds of your gasps mixed with the vibrant tension that filled the room. "That's it, like that, faster," Alucard encouraged, his gaze fixed on your expression of pleasure, enjoying the show.

Trevor let himself go, immersing himself in the mix of lust and desire, his fingers moving with fervor, each thrust causing your body to react with increasingly intense waves of pleasure.

His fingers slid in with ease, the wetness that soaked your pussy making every movement easier. It was like they were made to fit you, to explore every corner of your desire. You couldn’t help but move, your body responding to the stimulation, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans escaped your lips, uncontrollable, a symphony of pleasure filling the room.

Trevor intensified his pace, his fingers finding that sensitive spot that made you shudder. Every touch was a cry of ecstasy, and you couldn’t stop your hips from arching into him, seeking more, asking for more. The combination of his attention and Alucard’s voice, echoing in your mind, only increased the lust you felt.

“That’s it, that’s how he likes it,” Alucard said, his voice thick with desire as he watched you, aroused by the way Trevor made you feel. His words were a reminder of your complete surrender to the situation, and the thought of being the center of his attention made you feel even more alive.

The need intensified, a burning fire taking over you completely. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded with Trevor, and the intensity in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Trevor’s pace increased, his fingers thrusting in and out of you with such precision that your body simply couldn’t take it anymore. The tension you had been building up was released in an overwhelming surge of pleasure. Your moans transformed into cries of ecstasy, and before you could process it, your body tensed as you reached a climax so intense that everything in you shook uncontrollably.

Your legs, unable to bear the onslaught of sensations, clenched tightly around his hand, trying to contain the pleasure that shook you from head to toe. The sensation was so powerful that you could barely breathe, your chest rising and falling erratically as the orgasm swept through every corner of your being.

Trevor, with a cocky grin, kept looking at you, satisfied that he had taken you to the edge. "Wow, I think someone liked it," he murmured, his fingers still inside you, enjoying the feeling of your body trembling around him.

"I want to taste you." you said shamelessly. Just imagining it made your mouth water.

The boldness of your words made a cocky grin appear on Trevor's lips, his gaze darkening as he caught the lust you emanated. You looked down shamelessly at the obvious tent forming between his pants, imagining what awaited you. You were already biting your lip in anticipation, knowing that soon you would have him in your mouth, hard and heavy, just like you had fantasized.

“The same can be said for you,” Trevor replied, his tone heavy with desire as his hands traced a slow path up your still trembling thighs, coming dangerously close to your soaked core. The thought of him devouring you only increased the pressure between your legs, making you vibrate with anticipation.

Your eyes met his, the room charged with palpable tension, the sound of your heavy breathing filling the space. You licked your lips again, wanting to taste him on your tongue, ready for everything he was willing to give you.

Trevor positioned you without a word, his firm hands guiding you as he positioned himself beneath you. You knew what was coming, you had imagined it before. You felt the anticipation build in your belly as he took his position.

You leaned over him, placing your lips over the head of his cock, savoring the first contact, as he slid between your legs, his mouth finding your core without delay. The heat of his tongue caressing your already sensitive clit drew a moan from you, which was muffled as you began to take more of him into your mouth.

Eye contact with Alucard intensified the heat inside you. Seeing your husband with his jaw set and his hands moving rhythmically over his own erection sent a wave of pleasure even deeper through you. The moan that escaped your throat vibrated around Trevor's cock, who growled in pleasure in response, sinking his tongue even deeper into you.

Trevor continued with his tongue and lips working in perfect sync, as you rocked on top of him, giving yourself over to the pleasure both men were giving you. The increasing pressure in your body brought you to the edge of a second orgasm, feeling the tremors running through your thighs and abdomen.

When Trevor felt your mouth pull away, he didn’t hesitate to deliver a hard spank, the sound echoing through the room. “Keep sucking,” he ordered in a husky, authoritative voice. The surprise of the slap and the tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. You obeyed immediately, taking his cock back into your mouth, your lips enveloping him as your hands worked on what you couldn’t grasp. Your moans mingled with the wet sound of each suck, the taste of him filling your senses as you sank into the rhythm he set.

Trevor gave you no respite, his hands gripping your hips as he forced you to keep up the back and forth motion against his tongue, squeezing your ass with a mix of possession and devotion. The heat between your legs was unbearable, the pressure of his tongue, his lips, and the little bites on your clit brought you to the edge of the abyss again and again, without rest. The control he exerted over you, the way he physically manipulated you made you feel like a toy in his hands, and you couldn't help but want more.

You felt your body tense, how every fiber of your being responded to the stimuli he gave you. You couldn't help but tremble, your skin bristling and sweat covering every inch of you. Alucard watched from his privileged position, his eyes devouring you as his hand moved firmly over his own erection. The sight of your body surrendered to pleasure, given over to the hands of another man, excited him more than he could have imagined. But he wasn't jealous, on the contrary, there was something about sharing you that excited him even more.

The pace in your mouth intensified, becoming more frantic as Trevor pushed you to the edge. The taste of him on your tongue mixed with the pleasure he was giving you, and the lewd sound of his tongue working against you grew louder. You could feel every part of your body trembling under his dominance, completely exposed, completely vulnerable. You knew there was no turning back. He was in control, and you relished it.

Trevor, sensing your growing arousal, increased the intensity of his movements, his tongue caressing every corner of you as his mouth clamped down hard on your clit. Your moans, which had once been controlled, were now uncontrollable. You couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping your throat, the screams of pleasure filling the room. You fell apart under his touch, the pleasure unbridled, wild.

The orgasm hit you overwhelmingly, stealing your breath away. Your legs clamped down around Trevor’s face, as if to keep him there, buried in your wetness as he continued to eagerly devour you. A deep moan escaped your lips, and you felt completely consumed by the pleasure. Every fiber of your being shuddered, the world narrowing to the intensity of the moment.

Throughout the haze of your climax, you saw Alucard slowly rise from the chair. The need in his eyes was palpable, his pupils dilated with the lust he felt at seeing you surrendered in such a way. He approached you with a determined step, the heat of his gaze traveling over every inch of your body. Without a word, he grabbed you by the hair, the feeling of his firm fingers tangling in your mane making you shudder in anticipation.

Alucard caressed your lips with the tip of his cock, tracing a wet, teasing path as he waited patiently for you to open your mouth for him. There was no need for words, you knew what he wanted. Your breathing was ragged, still recovering from your orgasm, but you didn’t hesitate to comply with his wishes. You slowly parted your lips, letting him know you were ready to receive him.

Wasting no more time, Alucard gently pushed his cock between your lips, filling your mouth. The taste of him invaded your senses as you adjusted to his size, your hands instinctively moving to his thighs, clinging to him as you began to suck him hungrily. Alucard let out a deep growl, tilting his head back, enjoying the warmth of your mouth and the way you took him.

Trevor, still between your legs, hadn’t stopped moving, his tongue playing with your sensitive folds, making you shudder with each precise lick. The pleasure was an endless cycle, and being trapped between both men, each one pushing you to the edge of your limits, made you feel like your body was incapable of handling so much at once.

The way you gave yourself to Alucard, the way he controlled you by your hair, moving you to the rhythm he desired, turned you on even more. Every time you felt the weight of him on your tongue, it reminded you of how deeply connected you were at that moment.

A husky moan escaped Trevor’s lips as you teased the tip, feeling it spill over your hand, soaking your fingers with his release. The warmth of his seed spread across your skin, and with each gasp from him, you knew you had done exactly what he needed.

Alucard, without stopping his movement, looked at you intensely. That dark, piercing look he always gave you when he was about to come made you shudder. His hands still firmly gripped in your hair kept him in command, controlling every second of your interaction.

“Swallow it all,” he murmured, his voice deep and thick with desire. It was the only instruction he gave you before he gave the final thrust, deep and final, as his release filled your mouth with its bitter taste. The weight of the command, coupled with the feeling of having him this vulnerable, made you comply without hesitation, swallowing everything he offered you as he trembled in pleasure.

Trevor tugged at your hair firmly, forcing your head up slightly as his hips slammed into you. The sound of his balls slapping against you echoed through the room, the rhythmic squelching so delicious it almost made you lose your breath. Each hit was a mix of pleasure and pain, a reminder of how desperate you were for his body.

With a muffled moan, you dropped your chest back against the bed, feeling the new position amplify each thrust. Each thrust of his pelvis hit right in that spot that drives you crazy, and you couldn’t help but whimper in pleasure, letting out sounds of need as he continued to thrust eagerly.

“That’s it, my little bitch,” Trevor murmured between gasps, his voice heavy with lust and satisfaction. His tone, authoritative and teasing, only intensified the feeling of being his at that moment. You felt completely overwhelmed, caught between pleasure and desire.

“Yes! “Right there… don’t stop!” you whimpered, unable to contain yourself. Each thrust made you lose yourself further in the mix of sensations. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, and though you whimpered at the intensity, each cry of pleading only goaded him on to go deeper, to take you over the edge.

The spasms in your body intensified, and with each thrust, the line between pleasure and pain blurred, leaving only the pure need of his body. Trevor, enjoying your response, leaned forward, tightening his grip on your hair and increasing the pressure on your ass, taking you to new heights of desperation.

“You’re perfect like this,” he whispered, his voice an echo of power that reverberated through you. “I need you, like this… overflowing and pleading.” His pace became more frantic, each thrust hitting harder, as if each cry of yours gave him more energy.

You gripped the edge of the bed tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as your eyes, crystallized by tears of pleasure, seemed to clear only to connect with your husband’s intense gaze. His presence, his desire, was the fire that fueled the overflowing lust you felt.

“Spread your legs wider, you’ll see how she becomes a cute little slut for you,” Alucard murmured, his voice soft but charged with palpable desire, keeping his gaze fixed on you as if you were the only object of his interest in the world.

Hearing his words, a wave of submission ran through you, and you obeyed instinctively, spreading your legs wider and offering your body to Trevor. When he adjusted to the new angle, a mix of pleasure and pain ran down your spine, making you lose any semblance of reason. You were a mess, caught in a maelstrom of sensations.

“Give me more… faster!” You babbled, feeling each thrust fill you deeper and deeper. There was no room for thought; there was only desire, driving him at a frenetic pace. His thrusts became a symphony of pleasure, and your moans were a melody that echoed through the room.

Trevor kept pounding away at you, each thrust a shock of pleasure that resonated through your body, filling you with a euphoria that made you lose track of time. The bed creaked under the weight of his movements, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours created a lascivious melody that fueled your desire even more.

Your eyes narrowed as you moaned, each thrust making the pleasure intensify until it became almost overwhelming. “Yes, like that, don’t stop,” you managed to articulate between gasps, gritting your teeth as you let yourself go with the flow of sensations.

Each stroke took him deeper, reaching that point that made your body shake involuntarily. With each thrust, your senses sharpened, and the line between pleasure and pain blurred. “You’re incredible,” you whispered to him, a muffled cry spilling from your lips when he found the perfect angle.

“That’s it, cutie,” Trevor replied, his voice thick with desire. “I love the way you feel… the way you make me feel.” His words were like a spell, further igniting the spark that burned between you.

From the corner of the room, Alucard watched you, his gaze fixed on the unbridled scene. “Don’t stop, keep going like that,” he urged, a sly smile curving his lips as the atmosphere filled with lust. The mix of their gazes enveloped you in a bubble of pleasure, each with their own wants and needs.

Sensations were overflowing and a knot formed in your belly, a hint that climax was near. “I’m going to… I’m going to…” you could barely mumble, feeling your muscles tense, ready for the release to come. Each thrust from Trevor brought you closer to that climax, and there was no turning back. “Yes, please, don’t stop!” you cried out, completely given over to the lust of the moment.

“Spit and rub it,” Alucard ordered, his voice ringing with an authority that made you feel both pride and arousal. The connection between him and Trevor was palpable, and every instruction he gave only intensified the passion of the scene. Even though Trevor was the one pleasuring you at the moment, you knew you were still Alucard’s woman, and that filled you with a sense of power.

Your lips parted, and with a mix of desire and obedience, you spit on your hand before rubbing your core, bringing your fingers to your clit, feeling the heat of the action increase. Alucard’s gaze intensified, as if he was evaluating your every move, enjoying the show you were creating for him. “That’s it, that’s it. Do it faster,” he whispered, his tone full of approval.

Trevor, sensing the energy of the room, increased his pace. Each thrust was deeper, more intense, and his hand moving between your legs only added to the frenzy of the moment. “Watch her become a good girl,” Alucard murmured, his satisfied smirk telling you he was enjoying every second of the experience.

The climax was approaching, and the tension in your body was reaching a crescendo. Each thrust from Trevor felt more intense, his pace becoming frantic as the pleasure washed over you. Moans escaped your lips uncontrollably, mixing with the cries of pleasure Trevor emitted as he felt your body against his.

When you finally reached orgasm, it was as if a torrent of energy erupted within you. Your body convulsed, muscles tensing, and a gasp of pleasure escaped your throat. Trevor, sensing your release, let himself go as well, his own climax reaching him with force as he thrust deep into you.

The two of you stood frozen in that moment of ecstasy, sweat covering your skin as the pleasure overflowed. Trevor looked into your eyes, a mix of amazement and satisfaction on his face. Alucard, from his spot, smiled proudly, watching as you both gave yourself over to the moment, indulging your desires and enjoying the connection you shared.

“That was incredible,” you murmured, trying to catch your breath as the ecstasy began to fade, leaving a trail of satisfaction on your skin. Trevor, still shaking, leaned forward to kiss you softly, as if each touch was a promise of more moments like that.

“You did very well,” he whispered in your ear, gently caressing your locks, his voice heavy with satisfaction and desire. That simple phrase sent a shiver through your body, a reminder that, despite the pleasure shared with Trevor, there was another who wanted your attention as well.

#adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #alucard tepes #castlevania x you #castlevania x reader #castlevania smut #trevor belmont x reader #trevor belmont #kinktober #—demensrage.

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sirthisisa-wendys · 1 year ago

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Hi Wendy! I love your writing so much! Thank you for sharing with us :) I was wondering if you’d be able to write some angst with Ran, that maybe ends in fluff? I was thinking arranged marriage where he’s forced to marry a girl he doesn’t love and he lets her know from the start & she doesn’t mind, maybe she’s an attorney or an accountant or something for Bonten, so she can handle her own, but they do end up falling for each other somewhere along the way. But mayyyybe she gets kidnapped and hurt pretty badly and that makes him realize that he’s actually fallen for her, I hope you can run with the idea if you choose to write it 🥺

It's Just An Arrangement: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 884

tw: smut

masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Finale

Author's Note: this might have to be a two-parter....

"I will never love you."

Those were your wedding vows.

And as you sit at your desk - writing up reports for the most notorious crime syndicate in all of Japan - you know you'd be stupid to forget it.

"Hey." A knock on your door reveals Kokonoi Hajime, and you perk up at the sight of the white-haired accountant.

"Any news?" Kokonoi grins, producing a sheet for you to peruse. You take the paper and skim it before landing on the final figure with a sigh. "Just enough for the month."

"I've been sending Sanzu out on collections." You chuckle, thinking of the menace forcefully demanding repayment from frazzled storefront owners. "It seems to have the effect we want." Profit. You lay the paper down on your desk and raise your head to congratulate Koko, but a familiar shadow appears in the doorway.

"We need to head home." You eye your husband carefully, noting his unphased look and perfectly manicured appearance. Then you glance at your watch.

"It's only four," you note with disdain. "What--"

"We need to go. Say goodbye to Koko and shut your computer down." You stare at Ran, but he stares back, daring you to try him in front of his associate. So you do as he says, grabbing your bag and your phone before leaving the office. You walk behind Ran as he navigates toward the car waiting for you two outside the headquarters, stewing in your mind about the way he talks to you, especially when you've been nothing but obedient to him for a whole year.

A whole year. You'd been suffering silently, watching your hateful husband mill about, parading around like his life and wife are perfect. But behind closed doors, he can't seem to stand you.

A marriage of convenience, arranged by meddling parents and clientele looking for a leg up in the world. And you're the victim of it all. All so someone else could reap the benefits.

"There's been someone lurking around our businesses," Ran hums, looking at his phone and scrolling mindlessly. "It's best if we lay low for a while."

"Wouldn't it be better for Mochi to figure out--"

Ran looks up from his phone and frowns at you. Right, he hadn't questioned you or anything. You just needed to take the information and store it away. "We'll be working from home for now."

When you arrive at the place you call home, you're enraged. Staying at home with Ran meant more looks, more disagreements, more... feeling like shit. You look up at the massive chandelier in the foyer, and part of you wishes it would just collapse and crush you. But Ran clears his throat, pulling you out of your passive ideation, and motions toward the stairs.

You sigh, prepared to fulfill your only marital duty as you climb the stone steps.

It's easy, you think, stripping out of your clothes as Ran runs the shower water. All I have to do is brace myself against the shower wall and let him do what he pleases. The water is always warm, and Ran isn't rough most times. You could grin and bear it for as long as necessary.

And you do exactly that, holding onto the tile with slippery fingers. Ran holds your shoulder in one hand and your waist in the other, and your skin slaps roughly under the stream of water.

"Fuck," Ran bites out, and you whimper in response, feeling his cock driving into you with precision. Sometimes you came from this impersonal interaction, and stars would dance in your vision while Ran got soft and pulled out. But this time--

"I'm gonna cum." Ran's hips stutter as he exhales, his mewls of pleasure echoing in the shower as he cums inside of you. You try to enjoy it, try to imagine yourself enjoying being pregnant with his child, but you can't. You can't even work yourself up enough to touch your clit, which is a shame.

Ran does his due diligence and wipes himself down before cleaning you up as well, then turns off the shower by reaching past your frame and pressing the button. He doesn't speak either, but he does pass you a towel to dry off.

But it's never enough.

His small acts of kindness used to make you feel hopeful for something more, something real. But they were always small, few, and far between.

"The chef will be here at eight to cook dinner," Ran mentions, wiping his ears. You try not to eye his perfect physique in the mirror, reminding yourself that it's only a test of your mental fortitude. Just because he fucks well doesn't mean--

Ran's phone rings shrilly, and you jolt at the sound as he wraps his towel around his waist. He picks it up off the counter and frowns, looking at the name before setting it back down.

"Scammer," he mumbles, shaking his head. He then leaves you all alone in the bathroom, toweling off despite the cum dripping down your inner thighs.

What wouldn't you do for a sign of affection here and there? Some false flag in lieu of a real relationship? Sure, you told him you'd never love him. But did you mean it?

Everyone wants to be loved, right?

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut

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soulessjourney · 11 months ago

Text

His Love Story

Paring: young!Coriolanus x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Coriolanus came to realize what he had lost when it was already too late.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of cheating, reader throwing things at Coriolanus

A/N: I apologize; unfortunately, the works I promised you for this week will not be posted. I've encountered some issues with my university and have been busy trying to get them to fulfill their responsibilities. However, I wanted to provide you with something to read. I hope this little angsty one-shot serves as a small compensation for what I was unable to post this week. I promise you that the other works will be posted before the end of the year.

The holidays were meant to be festive and warm, so why did Coriolanus feel so cold? The house lay dark, enveloped in an icy chill that seemed to freeze everything within. The once radiant glow of Christmas lights failed to cast their comforting warmth across the rooms of his home. He found himself alone, stripped of your presence—no longer able to hear your declarations of love or your pleading to have him place the star atop the tree, especially after you nearly tumbled from the ladder, too stubborn to seek assistance.

----

"Coryo, please, I really need your help unless you want to witness a first lady take a tumble from this ladder again. I don’t know why you insisted on getting such a massive tree," you grumble, holding the golden star in your hand, while kicking at the ground in front of you, the fluffy socks on your feet sliding against the tile.

Coriolanus raises a brow and lets out a chuckle before stepping forward and gently pressing his lips to your forehead. "I asked if you wanted help and you refused, telling me you'd be able to do it," he shrugs. It was true; you had snapped at him five minutes prior, insisting you could place the star at the top of the tree without his help. You knew Coriolanus wouldn’t assist until you fluttered your eyelashes and asked him nicely, but being you, that was unlikely to happen.

The two of you were hosting a grand holiday celebration as in previous years, and Coriolanus had suggested getting a large tree for the foyer, so it would be the first thing guests saw upon arrival. At the time, you loved the idea. However, now that you volunteered to decorate it, thinking it would be a great way to spend time together, regret was creeping in. "Please, I don’t think my ankle can take another leap off the ladder to save my life," you grumble, lifting your head once Coriolanus grabs the star with a laugh.

You watch his every move as he scales the small ladder and reaches up to place the star at the top. Once he's back on the ground, his arms wrap around your waist, and his lips land on your cheek. "The tree looks amazing, Darling. The guests are going to love how beautiful it is," he whispers, brushing your hair back, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

Smiling up at him, you lean up and pause just before your lips touch his. "The star is crooked. Please fix it before I decide to topple this tree," you hum, patting his chest before turning on your heel to begin decorating the living room, leaving Coriolanus grumbling about how much of a tease you are.

----

Coriolanus stood in the foyer, his gaze lingering on the space where the tree would usually stand. He could still hear the echoes of your laughter bouncing off the walls and recall the moments when you hummed while adorning the tree with ornaments. Yet, those memories seemed to darken abruptly, and he felt a tightening sensation in his chest, prompting him to massage the muscle over his heart in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. Moving toward the grand hall, Coriolanus glanced at the portraits lining the walls. Each one still held photos of your wedding and some captured moments from when he first became President and you the First Lady. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he halted, allowing his eyes to sweep the room, searching for any sign of life.

---

"Coryo, there you are!" you grin, catching the attention of your husband. Wrapping your arm around his, you tug him down the stairs. "Tigris has been wanting to speak to you, and I’ve had a run-in with the mayor of Two. Don't worry, though; he won't be bothering you until later. I ensured his wife would keep him busy. The Mayors of Five and Eight are also eager to talk to you, and they've made it clear they wish to do it sooner rather than later. About what? I'm not sure; I couldn't get much out of them. They were pretty cryptic," you say, missing the loving gaze aimed towards you as the two of you weave through the crowd.

Coriolanus felt blessed to have a wife as dedicated as you. You were well-versed in politics and adept at handling party guests, much better at welcoming and mingling than he was. He appreciated how you kept him informed about who needed to speak with him or requested his presence, ensuring there were no surprises as the event progressed. Tigris often teased that you were more of a secretary due to how efficiently you organized things for him or rearranged his schedule to accommodate last-minute meetings or events. Though her comments sometimes irked him, you never once complained about assisting him. In fact, when he tried to lighten your workload, you argued that it was your duty as his wife to ensure things were organized so he could come to bed at a reasonable hour.

Coming to a stop, he spins you around and presses his lips against yours, drawing out a surprised gasp. When he leans back, he can't help but grin at your expression, taking your face in his hands. "I am extremely thankful to have you by my side. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do appreciate everything you do for me. I love you," he whispers, leaning down to place a small kiss against your nose, noticing how your eyes well up at his words.

Pulling him closer by his shirt, you plant a small kiss on his lips before looking around. "Go talk to your cousin and then the two mayors. Once you're done, come back to the bedroom; I have a surprise for you," you whisper in his ear, shooting him a sly smile as you slip away from him and head toward your shared bedroom.

---

Coriolanus found himself standing in the center of the tiled floor, the very spot where you both had been not long ago, vivid memories flooding his mind. His skin still tingled from your touch, and his lips retained the sensation of where you had kissed him before slipping away to your room. Shaking his head, he stormed out of the room, catching the eye of one of the maids as he walked past.

"Close it off, tear it apart, rebuild it—I don't care what you do. I don’t want to see that room anymore," he snapped, forcefully making his way past the maid and toward your shared bedroom. Even this space wasn’t a sanctuary. He hadn't touched a single thing since the night you stormed into the room, consumed by embarrassment and rage. He hadn't dared enter that room since things between you both began to unravel because of a foolish mistake.

The shattered flower vase you had thrown still lay beside the window, its fragments mingling with the wilted roses scattered on the floor. Your green gown lay discarded, adorned with the diamond earrings placed delicately nearby. The necklace rested in a heap next to the cracked mirror on the opposite side of the room, evidence of the impact from the small piece of metal. That night, he had been oblivious to where that argument would lead because deep down, he had refused to believe he could ever lose you.

---

Coriolanus couldn't process the force with which the door had flung open, slamming against the wall, surely leaving a small hole from the impact of the door handle. Suddenly, a flower vase filled with white roses hurtled towards him, leaving him little time to react before it crashed against the wall, shattering into fragments on the ground.

"Y/N, what the hell was that for?!" he yelled, turning towards you, anger flashing in his eyes. However, the sight before him halted any further words. There you stood, shoulders hunched, body trembling with quick breaths. But what concerned him more were the angry tears streaking down your cheeks, leaving a trail of eyeliner and mascara in their wake. Your clenched fists and tense jaw spoke volumes as you glared at him.

"I've given you the benefit of the doubt, Coriolanus Snow. I've tried being patient because you've been so engrossed in the Games, but tonight? It was the last straw. You've been distant, and it’s been a month since you touched me. Not a single brush of contact," you declared, standing taller while Coriolanus felt himself inwardly shrinking in response to your fury.

"You promised me you'd make a speech. You knew how long I worked on this campaign to help these kids have a better life. But you never showed up, and all they could talk about was how this wasn’t your priority," you snapped, tearing off your dress and tossing it aside along with your earrings.

Coriolanus stood frozen, mentally reworking his schedule before realization struck him. You had been devoted to this project for over a year, aiming to provide less fortunate children in the capital with an equal educational opportunity at the academy to build their reputations. You had poured your time and effort into tutoring these children and forging partnerships, neglecting your own home life. Tonight was the culmination of your hard work, and Coriolanus had promised to be there to support you. But he had forgotten.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly meant to be there, but I got caught up with Evadne. Did they approve your project?" he asked, tentatively approaching you.

You scoffed bitterly. "No, Coriolanus, they didn’t. They laughed me out of the room. Why approve a project my own husband wasn’t there to support, as he promised? A year and a half of work down the drain, and children’s futures ruined because you got caught up with your assistant." Arms crossed, you turned away, your voice softening. "You've been spending more time with her lately. Is there something going on between the two of you?"

Something flared in his eyes before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "She's been around more, almost seeming more like my wife."

His words hung heavy in the air, and you fell silent, your breaths slowing before you ripped off your necklace and hurled it across the room, ignoring the distant sound of breaking glass. "Y/N, please, I—" he started, but your glare silenced him.

Retreating into the closet, you grabbed your clothes and slipped into a nightgown before heading for the door. "We can sleep in separate rooms since you don't see me as your wife anymore, especially after I've been working so hard for change. Talk to me when you come to your senses, Coriolanus," you murmured quietly before leaving the room, your back turned to him.

---

After that fateful night, something irreparable fractured in your relationship. Arguments became more frequent, often ending in both of you retreating to your respective corners for the rest of the day. The rift widened when you accidentally discovered Coriolanus's infidelity through Tigris. She inadvertently let slip about Coriolanus and Evadne during a lunch together. Her realization dawned too late, assuming you had already known about their affair. That revelation shattered something within you, causing you to shut down completely, intensifying the growing distance between you and Coriolanus.

Before long, you found yourself restricted within your own home. All work was mandated to be completed in your office, conveniently situated down the hall from his. You were forbidden to leave for lunches with Tigris, who was now only permitted to visit you at home. Coriolanus confined you due to his selfish reasons, leaving you feeling trapped and adrift. He foolishly believed that keeping you isolated at home would prevent you from leaving.

As he stepped into your closet, many dresses he had gifted you hung there, but one solitary item remained. It was a sweater that belonged solely to you. It was the same sweater he often found you wearing during the early hours of the morning, curled up in a chair in the dining room with a book and a cup of coffee. It became the last tangible link he had to you and, unexpectedly, his most cherished possession.

---

Seated at the dining table, you absentmindedly toyed with the ends of your sweater, awaiting Coriolanus's arrival. It marked the first time in weeks that you'd had a conversation with him, and he had promptly agreed to talk once he finished sorting through his papers. As Coriolanus entered the room, a pang of familiarity struck him; it felt reminiscent of old times when he'd find you in that very sweater, engrossed in a book. Yet, things were starkly different now. No book graced the table, and you seemed diminished in the sweater, the atmosphere devoid of the warmth it once radiated.

Sitting across from you, Coriolanus nervously wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "You mentioned wanting to speak with me. I apologize for the delay; we encountered funding issues for the upcoming fundraiser at the academy, so I had to make some calls," he said softly.

You appeared transformed from the vibrant person he had known. Your complexion was paler, your eyes lacked their former vivacity, and your hair, no longer meticulously styled, was gathered into a simple bun, stray strands framing your face. Most noticeably, your lips, once adorned with a perpetual smile upon seeing him, now curved into a permanent frown. You were no longer the same, and he knew it was his doing.

"I know about your affair with Evadne," you murmured quietly, your gaze drifting down to the ring on your finger. Coriolanus stiffened at your words. "Don’t concern yourself with her; I dismissed her as soon as I found out. I’ve been managing your schedule, just like old times."

Coriolanus looked down, nodding slowly. "It was a regrettable mistake, one that should never have happened. I have no excuse, and I apologize. I'll do whatever it takes to prove I'll never hurt you like that again," he pleaded, halting as he noticed your lack of response.

"This isn’t about your infidelity, Coriolanus. For months, we haven’t shared a bed, barely breathing the same air until now. I've tried to give you space, but you've become consumed by your work that I don't even get a glance anymore. I wouldn't bring this up unless I felt it necessary. I’ll offer you a choice: me or drowning yourself in your work," you spoke softly, twirling the ring on your finger.

Coriolanus remained silent for a moment, contemplating his next words. "I can't sacrifice my work, Y/N. I'm the President of Panem; everything hinges on me, you know that," he responded quietly. His gaze fixed on your hand as you slid off your ring and pushed it towards him. He had made his choice, and it shattered you more than you believed possible.

You hadn't expected him to relinquish his position. In truth, you had hoped he'd recognize the perfection of your life together when he balanced his personal and professional life. But he was so far gone that your once-private life had disintegrated. You loved Coriolanus dearly, but in the end, this was the best for both of you.

---

Coriolanus removes the sweater from the hanger, clutching it tightly to his chest, then presses it close to his face, inhaling its familiar scent. Crumpling to the ground, he clings to the garment, still redolent of roses and lavender. The fragrance of roses, his doing, a constant presence around you, reminiscent of moments when you tended to the flowers in the rose garden. The lavender, your choice, believed to alleviate the stress that often burdened you. He cherished the scent, often burying his nose in your hair to catch the calming aroma of lavender, a solace during his stressful work times.

Tears trickled down his cheeks, escalating into audible sobs as reality sank in. It had been months since you departed, and Coriolanus, preoccupied with work, attempted to fill his days to avoid noticing your absence. Yet, with the approaching holidays, he couldn’t ignore that you wouldn’t be there to greet him with tender morning kisses or engage in playful debates over home decorations. You were gone, and he had lost you. This, he realized, was his love story—a narrative that ended in losing you. Despite his efforts to locate you, you had vanished into thin air, taking his heart with you.

---

A/N: While writing this, I kept listening to 'Love Story' on repeat, and suddenly, the song felt much more heavier and beautifully sad. I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot, my holiday gift to you. I promise to diligently work on the next parts of my projects and get them up as soon as possible

Tags: @andwhatofthelight @sabrinasbd @snowlandstop @obsesseddd @quicksilversg1rl @runningfrom2am @weeeoosworld @poppyflower-22 @butlersluvbot @lugiastark @alana4610 @i-love-ptv

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x you #coryolanus snow #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosbas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosbas #tbosas fanfiction #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #Spotify

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Trust [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

wc: 7.8k

summary: something goes wrong with a heist and Kaz's anger lashes out at you, only later realizing it's not for the reasons you thought.

A/N: I feel like it took me literally YEARS to write this. Someone requested the central idea but I decided to expand a bit and since in anon he mentioned that they like hurt/comfort I hope I have achieved it. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

warnings: trauma (again)

taglist: @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

As soon as you stepped foot inside The Slat, you felt enormous relief to think that you could finally get some rest. The day before, the boss had told you that it was necessary to recover something and had drawn up a general outline of how things would be carried out, so to avoid mistakes, instead of sending just one group, the whole team would go. But at a certain point things had gone wrong and then the whole mission had gone awry. You were scared and everyone else was scared, but you knew that Kaz was probably the most upset about it. He hadn't spoken to anyone since you had to flee the mansion.

“Well, I declare that a resounding failure. Good night, my friends,” Jesper said, holding his side with a wince. Wylan was at his side to catch him in case the pain buckled his knees.

You sighed, defeated, and started walking towards the stairs to take a shower to remove all traces of dust, blood, and shame that you had impregnated on your skin, however, Kaz's cane stopped hitting you in the stomach, blocking your way and suffocating you at the same time.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, his voice raspier than usual. You asked yourself if he was referring to your plans, which he obviously couldn't know about, and why he was upset, but it didn't take anything more to get an answer, "What the fuck was that in the mansion?"

Oh, that is what he meant.

To recap a bit, your goal that night was to recover a few bags of cash that a new gang at The Barrel had stolen but originally belonged to the Crow Club, i. e you guys. It was a payment for an exchange that Kaz had made days ago with art supplies or something, it was a business that none of you were very involved in.

The black-haired man knew the place where it was kept (he always seemed to know the whole city like the back of his hand) and so he had drawn up a pretty solid plan with which you could get away with it. Regularly his plans contemplated in the most opportune way each of your abilities: guns, stealth, the Grisha qualities, strength, chemicals, and the skills with your hands in which you surpassed the man. It was almost like something in you and your friends used to joke that your hands were a kind of magnet for everything shiny, although those same hands also worked perfectly to use a pick and give access to many places.

Things were going well that night, until you had to make a last-minute decision when you found out that an unknown person was in the place and you wanted to get them out of there so they wouldn't be in the crossfire. That was the 'certain point' I had mentioned before, where everything got screwed up. It was about a poor and defenseless servant girl who started screaming like crazy when she saw you and although you tried to calm her down that was enough to draw the attention of the guards, who came towards you to capture you. And since you were very busy struggling with two armed goons, you couldn't fulfill your part of the plan, which was to open the vault where the money that you were going to steal was. It had been a rather unfortunate chain of events.

"Kaz, you know I didn't mean to…"

"Are you deaf, then?" he interrupted you, ignoring your attempt at justification. He took a step towards you, limping a bit due to the lack of a cane, and then you could see the expression on his face.

You'd only seen Kaz this angry once and the poor man who caused it was already resting in peace, so you cringed in on yourself like a scared little bird.

"Or why didn't you do what we agreed?" you didn't know if he wanted a verbal answer, but even if he had, what could you say to that? It was more than obvious why you had done it "If there is a plan, it is because that plan must be executed as I have said, if not, then what would it be?"

"I shouldn’t…"

"No, you shouldn't," he interrupted again, speaking louder than usual to look imposing. And boy he was doing it. “That was the stupidest thing you've ever done, and all for a damn maid? What were you thinking?

"I wanted to help her"

"Oh really? And how did she thank you? Yelling at the guards to come to get you! Did you think about that before acting? Do you ever consider the consequences?” his voice didn't drop in volume, but rather rose gradually with each word that came out of his mouth.

You were in a panic, somehow strangely having the strength to meet his angry eyes, for you didn't think he would start saying such things to you in front of everyone else, who had been silent since the exchange had begun. You tried to think of anything to defend yourself, but even if you found the right argument you knew you couldn't outsource it due to nerves.

Even with your devoted silence, Kaz did not seem satisfied and he continued speaking.

“You had to follow simple orders: wait for the signal and open the vault. Everyone stayed in their positions. Was it very difficult for you to do that?”

"Kaz, I don't think…" Jesper started to say, trying to help him out of the situation, but he fell silent as he watched the black-haired boy turn his head to look at him. It was true, you guys hadn't seen Kaz in that state more than a few times and even the gunslinger, who loved you immensely, thought it wiser to keep silent if he didn't want the opponent's anger to lash out at him.

"Look at Jesper," he said close to your face. If he hadn't been so averse to touching you, you were sure he would have held your face to keep your gaze on him, because by this point your eyes were cloudy and you were trying to focus on anything other than the conversation “He's hurt. You are hurt. Imagine what would have happened if we hadn't been able to get out in time or if Inej hadn't come to your rescue, do you think those men would have tempted their hearts before killing all of us? Of course not! There's no room for charity here because until that servant was in real danger, she wasn't your problem. You behaved stupidly and those actions affected all of us” Kaz fell silent and you thought that was it. You were with your arms crossed, perhaps as an unconscious act of seeking protection, not daring to look at him.

But he took a few seconds to examine you and then said something else:

It is your fault that we are now in this state; without a single penny in our pockets.

The words your fault, and without a penny were the cause of a tug across your chest. It was useless to hold back the tears that had already treacherously begun to slide down your cheeks and that you wished you had the strength to wipe off with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing.

In all the time you had belonged to the crows he had never spoken to you like that. There had been disagreements, of course, and he'd even called you out for neglecting some tasks he'd given you, but those kinds of hurtful words were reserved for criminals from whom he extracted information or threatened. That's why you were so upset, because Kaz was terrifying when he put his mind to it and you'd just had the misfortune to experience it firsthand.

The rest of your friends were also perplexed by what had just happened, since most of them had found your outburst in the mansion quite justifiable, since it was an innocent life that you had tried to protect, a very present code always.

The other part that had managed to break you was knowing that the man's annoyance was actually due to the money you had caused him to lose rather than the fact that you or someone else had been in danger. Or at least that was what you had understood by the final sentence.

The silence was sepulchral, no one even dared to breathe harder than usual for fear that he would take them as the next victim, and only a small sob that escaped you broke the silence. You hoped that would soften Kaz’s expression a bit, but he didn't flinch.

A part of you thought, due to shock, to apologize to him, but you weren't even able to. You just stood in the middle of that room under his questioning gaze.

When your body finally wanted to react, you walked directly to the stairs to go up to your room, without even looking back, collapsing on the floor and crying as soon as you closed the door behind you. You didn't even think about taking a shower anymore and the burning pain in your ribs, which you hadn't mentioned to anyone about, intensified. You had to cover your mouth with your hand so that the crying wouldn’t reach the floor below and you felt that everything around you was spinning.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, which felt like hours, until someone opened the door and stuck their head inside. It was Nina, who had surely gone of her own free will but also partly at the request of others. She could hear your erratic heartbeat and your lungs struggling to hold some air, so it didn't take her more than a second to kneel next to you to wrap her arms around you and start running her hand up and down trying to comfort you. She offered to heal you and you agreed, but through it all you thought that even though the blows on your body burned like hell, what was definitely causing you the most pain was the wounds you just received to your heart.

After that night you could say that the tension in The Slat could be cut with a knife. You thought that the others were also going to blame you for the failure of the heist, with justifiable reasons, but you were pleasantly surprised to find out that this wasn’t the case, since they all told you so explicitly as soon as they had a chance. Matthias, who was most of the time the most mature among you, told you that sometimes things went wrong and that at least he was glad that you were okay; with Nina there, the physical problems could be solved and the money would be recovered somehow. But, to your surprise, it was Kaz they weren't very happy with.

You never meant to start a mutiny against the boss, God knows you didn't, but as much as you tried to change their minds, they were distant and reluctant to talk to Brekker. And Kaz, in turn, didn't exchange a single word with you.

Jesper and Nina were the ones who showed it the most, the first one kept looking down at your friend as if he could make him combust spontaneously with his eyes while the woman simply didn't say anything, as if he were invisible. The rest of the group hadn't cut off the communication suddenly, but it was evident that they weren't entirely happy with the black-haired man's behavior.

Although there were few occasions when the seven of you, or the majority, coincided in the same space, since you were always doing other things around The Barrel or the club.

You weren't the proud type, yet you refused to offer an apology for something that wasn't wrongdoing and finally stopped feeling guilty for applying this silent treatment to thinking that Kaz deserved it. Just a little. Also, if he didn't bother to talk to you, everything would be easier for you, because, although you still did some general tasks, most of the time you spent locked in your room, doing anything to entertain yourself.

If you looked at it from the outside, unaware that you guys were a bunch of criminals living in the same horrible building, that looked like a real teenage fight. But you couldn't blame yourself too much, because you were teenagers.

Sometimes, when he didn't notice, you watched him from afar. You analyzed his expression, his posture, his eyes, anything that would help you figure out if he really cared about your absence or the silence of others. You tried to believe that he was in a bad mood (more than usual) because he wanted you to not be angry anymore, but after a long time you always came to the same conclusion; he was inscrutable, shielded in that armor that you highly doubted could shatter, much less by you. Sometimes you wished you could know what Kaz was thinking so you could figure out if he had noble motives for acting the way he did or if he was just a heartless jerk. And, although your desire to read minds wasn’t fulfilled, you began to bet more on the latter the day a new job was presented. It was, now, a kind of revenge against the men of the opposing gang (who had stolen your business payment in the first place), however, when the meeting took place you noticed that he was skipping a detail.

"And what will Y/N do?" Jesper had asked, going ahead of you, after listening carefully to the plan and realizing that you weren't contemplated anywhere. You expected Kaz to say you were going to stick with him, even if it was so he could keep an eye on you and avoid another outburst, but when he shook his head you were completely offended.

"She's not coming"

It was one thing to have received a scolding for the mistake made and quite another to be removed from the team just like that. And that Kaz had responded as if you weren't there made you feel completely humiliated and, consequently, angry.

"Great, so now it turns out that I'm grounded," you said sarcastically. It was the first time in weeks that you had spoken directly to Kaz and he just looked at you sideways for a few seconds, as if examining you, which made your blood boil even more "Are you really going to leave me out?" you continued, now with more seriousness than before. You wished he dared to face you with an answer, and you were surprised at how quickly this happened.

"It’s not personal. This time it’s better that you stay” was all the explanation he offered you. The way he said it made it clear to you that it wasn't up for discussion and you felt powerless, but before any of your friends could say anything in your defense, you decided to take it the best way.

If Kaz didn't want you around, you weren't going to make him. If you didn't receive even a measly part of the money from now on, you didn't care. If it was true that you had screwed up, you weren't sorry for anything and you weren't going to give in so easily, despite the love and respect you felt for him.

“Good luck then,” was all you said, offering the best fake smile you could have and purposely patting Kaz on the shoulder. He watched you walk away with eyes wide open in surprise, even though you didn't even notice it when you got lost in the hallway, and it was hard for him to keep his composure as he turned around again to clear up any doubts regarding how the crime would be carried out; although he tried to hide it, almost most of the group could tell.

What the hell did Kaz have against you lately? The others had made mistakes countless times and never suffered consequences as harsh as yours, because probably the hardest part had been dealing with the boss's anger and being forced to find a solution for what they had screwed up. You probably would have offered to get the money back yourself if he had let you end the problem, but you couldn't even do that because you knew it would only fan the fires of anger.

So when you left there everyone thought that things had already gone on too long and someone had to point it out to Kaz.

"Is everything clear?" he asked, looking at the crows and receiving a general nod.

We would have to wait until night to work, so once there was nothing more to say, each one dispersed in opposite directions.

“Inej,” Kaz said, not even looking back. He knew she was there, he always knew, as if there was a connection between the two of them "Everything okay?"

“Everyone is where they should be. The carriage is on its way and the streets are free”

"Good"

“But there is something else we need to talk about”

Kaz was afraid it was something to do with you, and he closed his eyes for a moment at the possibility. They were on a roof, he too close to the shore to be able to supervise that the robbery was carried out effectively, and she took a few steps until she reached his side. The two kept looking down for a few seconds, preparing internally for what was coming; talking about feelings was never one of their strengths.

"What would that be about?”

"About who" she corrected him "This discussion with Y/N has already escalated to exacerbated levels, you didn't have to forbid her to come"

"And what did you want me to do?" he muttered, more upset than he would have liked, and he had to take a deep breath before speaking again, “She's… was impulsive and… she doesn't measure the danger she's putting herself in. She is like a child, without conscience or limits”

“We all know that, but you called her stupid. That's very different."

“I don't want her to end up killing herself,” he said, and Inej caught a hint of sincere concern tinging her friend's voice. Kaz hated seeing himself like this, but there was something about her that made him trust her with that part of him. “Y/N acts with her heart, that's the problem. And I worry that she doesn't know how to control it. I don't want anyone to hurt her and she just doesn't cooperate” he sounded desperate, helpless, and then Inej realized how many things were being ignored by the team about the boss's decisions, apparently cruel, but quite considered in the background. It was like… acting badly for the right reasons. Or something like that.

“Well, if you really do this to safeguard her welfare, you should tell her. Because I don't think you're giving him the right message with your actions” Inej told him. Then she decided that she wasn't going to pry into the matter anymore from that point on, wishing that the conversation had been enough to make the black-haired man see reason.

He thought about it for a second and wished he could ask her more, but then he noticed that, as always, she had already vanished into the night.

Kaz tried very hard to focus on the robbery and stop thinking about you or what it would be wise to say to you, but he was having some trouble. In the next hour, to everyone's surprise in general, things went perfectly; there was no guard, just a driver who didn't resist, and they were coming back with some juicy loot. Almost too easy to be true.

Kaz didn't give much thought to the nature of the success they'd just had and they all just set off, their group spirits much better now that things were looking up.

It would be foolish to deny that Kaz had been thinking about how quickly you would have managed to carry out the robbery and also had missed the joking duo that you formed with Jesper, who now had barely looked at the blue-eyed man.

On the way he got a bit withdrawn and was mentally torturing himself about what was the right thing to do when he got home. After thinking it through, he concluded that he should take Inej’s advice and talk to you to fix things. Brekker wasn't used to apologizing, but at least he could explain things to you the way he had with the girl, so that you would understand better and hopefully forgive him for the idiotic behavior he had been displaying for the past few weeks. Although he was still upset, it was worth putting that aside to try.

After going to the club to save the cash they went back to The Slat and when he stood in front of your door he never thought to feel more nervous in life, while he started to ask himself if that was a good idea. Maybe he should just let time wash away your bad face and carry on as before... but he was also aware that that wouldn't happen.

He hesitated for a long time about whether to knock on your door or not, but after a few minutes he finally did and was frustrated when no one answered, despite a strip of light coming through the door grate.

"Y/N, I know you’re there" he tried, but there was no response. Kaz ran a gloved hand through his hair and exhaled in frustration. "Fine, don't talk to me if you want, but that's not going to stop me from coming to tell you what I came to say," he muttered determinedly. Even trying to communicate assertively, he couldn't help but sound rude. “I didn't mean to yell at you like that when we got back from the heist, I just didn't know what else to do. And today I asked you to stay here because it could be dangerous and I'm trying to take care of you because apparently you don't give a damn about your own life, not because I hate you or because I'm upset with you. It's just that…” he was having a hard time talking, so he had to take a deep breath to collect himself a little “I worry about you. And I want you to be okay. Safe"

Kaz was silent, waiting for you to say something, but again there was nothing. He felt so foolish and embarrassed that he even thought his eyes were going to glaze over with helplessness. He was trying his best to go there, but you didn't seem to care, and honestly, he didn't blame you.

His gaze lowered to the floor, the pressing sensation of rejection flooding his chest, and only then did he notice the glow emanating from a section of the floor. With difficulty he knelt to take the substance with his fingers and his glove was stained with a fine powder that gave off an iridescent glow, which until that moment he had not realized he was scattered over various sections of the corridor. And next to that dust, there was a bloodstain.

Kaz didn't even wait for a second to lunge at your bedroom door and yank it open, which he hadn't done before out of respect for your privacy, only to realize that everything in there was turned upside down. There were remains of a smashed nightstand, books scattered on the floor, the bed in disarray, and sporadic stains of blood that he prayed weren't yours. The window was wide open and the white curtain billowed violently in the night air.

Someone had broken into your room and it wasn't hard to put the pieces together to find out what they had broken into. Someone had kidnapped you.

His eyes traveled all over the place looking for something that would give him clues and he decided to start rummaging through the books hoping to find a note, the amount for your ransom, whatever. When he read ‘We're even, Brekker’ written on yellowed paper and signed with the seal of a snake, he felt that his balance was missing.

That's why the robbery of the carriage had been so easy, because they had wanted it that way. Their plan was always to enter The Slat. You were there, alone, and they kidnapped you because Kaz had allowed it. Because in his eagerness to protect you, he had delivered you directly to the enemy.

It was all his fault.

"Jesper!" he screamed, on first impulse. He didn't know if it was difficult for him to get up from the floor due to dizziness or because of the limp “Inej! Wylan! Whoever!" he continued, wanting to get the attention of anyone who could help him. He was in a panic and he was also furious. He would be capable of torturing the men who had kidnapped you in the most horrible ways ever seen, as soon as he found out who they were.

All the people present in the building followed the sound of the boss's wailing and when they observed the state of your room a collective sigh of surprise filled the silence.

"Where is Y/N?"

“I don't know,” Kaz hissed, sounding desperate. That didn't even matter to him anymore "They took her, they set us up"

“We have to find her,” Matthias muttered, and he wanted to hit him for saying something so obvious. But he had to calm down, for everyone's sake.

"There's blood and this in the hallway," said the black-haired man, showing everyone the dust that still glittered on his glove.

"It's a trail," Wylan exclaimed, his features lighting up like when he had an idea. He stepped forward to analyze the sample and then nodded. “I gave this to her, it's a bioluminescent powder we were experimenting with. In theory, when…" he walked around the room as if looking for something until he found a box of matches that you had lying around "it comes into contact with the fire, it emits a blue flame" he explained, going into the corridor and demonstrating the information practically.

There was hope, if they hadn't taken you too far your friends might track you down and rescue you. You had been scared enough to leave a clue because you knew they would look for you.

In that moment Kaz felt so guilty that he had ever even suggested that he doubted your abilities.

“You have to follow it. We have to find where they took her right now” he ordered and, of course, no one argued. Everyone went ahead to get the necessary things to look for you and Kaz leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing slowly in an attempt to contain one of those panic attacks he sometimes felt, not imagining that this would only be the beginning of an awful night.

And the worst wasn’t over yet.

The crows moved faster and more efficiently than ever before, and within minutes Wylan had figured out how to follow the trail. Sometimes there were long lines through the streets that were lit with a single match, but other times they had to look for them more carefully and that consumed time that Kaz considered vital. Although he wasn't saying anything the others could tell that he was quite upset by the situation, so they did their best. Also, you were part of the group, so they too were extremely worried.

By the time they reached Fifth Harbor, Kaz was already burning all the way down his leg, but that didn't matter to him. They were all out of breath, but that didn't matter. And the trail ended right at the pier, but that didn't matter because they saw in the distance a boat with two robust men, one of them holding a lamp and the other struggling with a girl tied by her hands and legs who was screaming in despair.

It was you and you were yelling Kaz's name.

They rushed to find a boat tied to the dock big enough for the six of them and when, luckily, they found it they jumped on it. Matthias and Jesper were in charge of rowing and the movement did not go unnoticed by the men who had you captured, nor by you.

A feeling of relief swept through you as you realized that the silhouettes approaching you were your friends and you felt that all was not lost. Kaz thought that they had arrived just in time and that calmed him down for a second, but he didn't count on the fact that the man would lift you off the ground and, with a sharp gesture that surprised everyone, he would throw you straight into the sea.

Your cry was drowned out by the roar of the water and the black-haired man's breath caught, while everything around him was spinning again. Until then he realized the position he was in: in the middle of the immensity of the sea, in danger of drowning. It was then that the memories of his brother's body came back to him like needles sticking in and he felt like he might vomit.

Kaz didn't know how to swim and even if he had known how to at some point in his life it was now impossible due to his limping leg. But he wasn't going to let you die. He can’t.

In the midst of the attack, he was dimly aware of what was happening. You were now within safe distance of the other boat which allowed Inej to throw a knife at one of the men and Jesper took it upon himself to put a bullet into the other. In hindsight, Kaz would have wished they had stayed alive so he could take it upon himself to give them a slow and painful death. There was no point in letting the men who had kidnapped you die so mercifully.

The water was dark and they couldn't see anything, but still Matthias was the one who ventured below the surface to find your body, hoping that when he did it wouldn't be too late.

Nina kept her hands up to monitor the beating of both your hearts and the rest stood without saying anything, looking expectantly out at the water that rolled in small waves. Only Kaz's erratic breathing broke the silence of the environment.

A few seconds passed, and when there was no sign of him or you, concern gripped the group. Now there wasn’t only the fear that you wouldn't get out of the water, but also that Matthias wouldn't and thus lose two members of the group. Nina winced when she heard one of the heartbeats slowed down considerably, though she didn't comment on it to the others.

When he finally surfaced everyone was relieved to see that he wasn't alone, even if your body was just an unconscious bundle that he was pulling with difficulty.

They still put you in the canoe and you had your limbs tied with rope, so Inej was in charge of cutting them with a knife, while the others crowded around you to try to see how you were.

“She's not breathing,” Matthias gasped. Nina knelt to try to expel the water from your lungs, but for some reason your body was resisting. If she didn't get the water out of your lungs, the lack of oxygen would permanently affect your brain.

"This isn't working," she snorted after several hand movements.

It was only then that Kaz dared to look at you. You were pale, wet, and a trickle of blood was coming from your forehead and you had some bruises. He never thought that he would feel the same pain that he seized when he traveled to the coast with the lifeless body of his brother.

Wake up, he wanted to tell you, but his voice wouldn't come out. You have to wake up.

Nina kept trying and until he finally saw you jump up to vomit up the salt water, he too felt like he could breathe again.

When you finally finished inhaling the air around you everyone bombarded you with questions to check your well-being and you just nodded to them all, a little dazed and scared. Nina took it upon herself to help with the cut and bruises, while the men took up the oars again to reach the dock.

Kaz was the last to get off the boat and he was also the last to enter The Slat, as if he needed to check that the rest of you had done it, since he didn't want to leave anyone behind again. Never.

“Let me accompany you,” he said. It was the first thing he had said to you after the incident and you were so exhausted that you didn't offer any resistance. When you walked up the stairs and into your room, you thought Kaz would leave without another word, but instead he stood in front of the door.

You looked at him with a neutral expression, trying to understand what he was trying to do.

"You were very intelligent" he began to say "When you left the trail"

"Thank you," you said quietly. Your throat was a bit sore from the water you had swallowed.

"How it happened?" he asked. The trip had made you recover a bit and you were calmer than before, so you didn't mind telling him things.

“They were supposed to be looking for your office, but they saw my light on and thought it would be a better idea to go after the helpless damsel. They got in through the window and… voila,” you said bitterly, gesturing with one hand at the mess around you. “They held me here and tied me to a chair, but the knots were so painful I got free in a few minutes. They interrogated me to ask about things of value or obtain some information, but I didn't say anything. My fighting could irritate them, but I think I really pissed them off when I smashed a vase over the head of one and plunged a knife into the other's leg. Maybe that's why they decided to throw me into the sea”

Kaz was a bit dismayed at how calmly you said things and he wondered if you really didn't care or were just pretending. Although he wanted to say the same things to you that he had said to your empty room a few hours ago, the truth was that remembering it made him feel ashamed. It had been a sincere apology, but he didn't think he could say it twice.

"I'm sorry I put you in danger," he said, stepping forward for more privacy. He watched your reaction to what he said and what he did, hoping that if you were still upset you would show it. But the near-death experience seemed to soften both of you.

"Why apologize? you didn't send those guys. It was just some… being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened to anyone."

“I know, but maybe if I hadn't asked you to stay here, they wouldn't have hurt you” he admitted and although you wanted to recriminate him for that, you decided to remain silent, feeling curious as to how far he could go with that talk "And if you don't… if you hadn't been smart right now you wouldn't be here”

"But I am" you answered with determination "And that's what hurts me, Kaz, that you doubt me" you expressed. You weren't going to forget so easily what had made you walk away in the first place and you thought it was the right time for him to know what you thought about it “I made a mistake, it's true and I take responsibility for that. But you didn't have to treat me like this."

"I know that too," he hastened to say, "I don't doubt you, I never have."

“It is not noticeable. Today you pushed me aside and you told us that trust is always the most important thing. And although I was stupid, I consider that this behavior is not worthy of making you stop trusting me just like that. You know I didn't do it to screw you over, I just wanted to save her."

“It's not about that woman, I don't care about her. You know that I too would have prevented her from getting hurt if the situation arose."

“Then what is it about? Is it only the mistake of the century if I make it?”

“This is about you, Y/N” Kaz said, pointing at you with his open palm and starting to sound desperate “I got so mad because you were the one who ended up in the hands of the enemy. I hate that you act like that because I care about you too much to allow myself to lose you”

You didn't expect that and he didn't expect to say it either. It was even more embarrassing than what he had refused to tell you in the first place.

He said that he didn't want to lose you and you thought about the meaning of that expression: did he not want to lose what you brought to the team or did he not want to lose your person?

"These weeks I thought you only hated me because I made you lose money"

"Oh, I do hate you a little for that," he said, taking a surprise "Not for the money itself, but for what that money implied" there was no point in keeping secrets, if Kaz had already started to sink then he preferred to do it completely and with dignity “The club is going through some difficulties, Y/N. I sold those things so I could keep it going. Because while our criminal jobs give us some kruge, you know that the main source of income for that group is the Crow Club. Also…” he felt his breath shake and had to take a moment to calm down “I've been thinking about something these past few months. A long time ago you said that you had always wanted to go to university, do you remember?” he asked you and you nodded your head “Jesper had the opportunity, but he is a lost cause, because he prefers this kind of life to having an office job or a quiet home and I respect that. But not you, you ended up here because you had no other options” Kaz was silent, hoping that if you had something to say you would say it now, but then he continued, “And I thought if I gave you some money you would have that opportunity. That way I could get you away from all these Dregs and you'd live the way you wanted. That's why that robbery was important”

You were totally stunned.

You never expected Kaz to have that opinion of you or even care about you to the degree that he had just confessed to you. He had listened to you, had seen beyond the apparent happiness of living in The Barrel to find your true dreams, so forgotten within yourself that you no longer thought you could reveal them to anyone else.

You mistakenly believed that the only thing that mattered to Kaz Brekker was dying suffocated by piles of money, but you had just realized that the true engine of life of the black-haired man was the love he had for that peculiar family that you made up.

“You… you know that's not necessary, right? You don’t have to do it"

"But I wanted"

The gap was less since Kaz had walked towards you and you decided, venturing a bit, to take another step towards him.

"Why didn't you tell us that the club has financial problems?" you asked softly, because you thought there could be no other way to talk to him in a situation like this.

"Because it wasn't important"

"Yes, it is, Kaz" you walked in his direction again. At that distance, if you raised your hand a little, he could reach to take hers "That's the point, you decide to swallow all the problems without talking to anyone and then we have no idea what ails you or why this or that is so important. Jesus, if you had told me that money was so vital, I would have put my life into opening that vault as quickly as possible” it was at that moment that you really regretted what you had done and thought that, if possible, you would have returned in time to listen to him and not just your instincts.

"It does not matter anymore. I can't spend my life telling you all the bad things that happen around here."

“You should do it, Kaz. We are a group and we can't just enjoy the rewards without knowing the sacrifice, stop burdening yourself with that alone” he warned seriously “You take care of all of us, but then who takes care of you?”

His reaction was the same as you had a moment ago: stupefaction. Kaz didn't know at what point in his life he had to become that, but he thought that perhaps Jordie's death was decisive for him to have to fulfill the role of the person he had just lost. To be for others what no one had been for him, so they would not suffer what he had suffered. It was quite an altruistic act if he thought better of it.

But after so many years it was exhausting and he wished he could just fall into someone else's arms to rest, figuratively speaking. And there you were right in front of him, probably the person he loved the most, with an expression that reflected a willingness to listen to what he had to say.

So Kaz thought that, maybe for once, it was okay for him to be vulnerable.

“I had an older brother” he murmured, after a long while and you were a bit confused by the sudden change of subject, but you nodded your head so he knew you were listening “He died during the plague epidemic. And miss him so much"

You knew little, if anything, of the personal life of the man in front of you, so you didn't know how to react to the disclosure of that fact. You imagined a little Kaz, scared and sad because his brother was gone. You didn't think for a second about the horrible things he had to go through and that he, with some luck, would dare to tell you later.

But even with this paltry piece of information you couldn't help but feel enormous compassion. He was human, like everyone else, and he was afraid that death would come to take another person important to him. Now you understood better.

"What was his name?" you asked in a whisper, as gently as possible. Kaz was silent for a moment, reflecting no sentiment, then swallowed.

"Jordie"

You weren't going to ask him any more questions after that, you just looked into his eyes and you knew that this was his way of telling you that he trusted you to keep that shred of his past.

"Well, I think Jordie would be happy to know that now there are six of us who love you as he did" was what you replied. You didn't know if it was the answer he expected, but at least it was the one that had come from your heart. When he looked at you, you swore that his eyes were teary, although later you convinced yourself that it had only been an effect of the light.

"I hope we're fine now" he murmured, regaining his composure, referring to the problems that had existed between you after that discussion.

"Calm down, everything is fine. I know you can't live without me."

"Actually, I've had enough of Jesper seeing me with those murder-eyes."

"Then you noticed," you joked. You were completely exhausted and at that moment you were even more conscious, as if you were going to pass out the next second “Everything is fine” you repeated “I just hope this doesn't happen again. I… will try to be less impulsive. And you have to tell me if something's wrong and we'll figure it out, okay?"

Kaz hummed back and you put on a tight-lipped smile. Then you looked around you to analyze the chaos that had been left by the fight with those men, feeling exhausted just thinking that you would have to pick up the pieces of wood, the books, or clean the stains, and he realized what you were thinking by the look on your face.

“I'll send someone to clean all this up tomorrow, I promise. For now, you just… lie down”

"For the first time, I'm not going to argue with you," you laughed bitterly. Then a yawn invaded you and you felt your eyelids tremendously heavy, which he perceived. Kaz didn't want to leave there, even if you were on the verge of exhaustion, however, he didn't know what excuse to use to stay “Good night, Kaz. You should rest too"

"Yeah, um... I'll do it"

“Good”

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Have you really forgiven me?" he asked, looking to make sure you weren't upset anymore. You smiled and, amid your delirium from exhaustion, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. He paled and held his breath, but you didn't notice.

“As much as you have forgiven me for screwing up the mission. Now go and sleep"

Perhaps it was the shock of receiving something like this from you that caused Kaz to practically run out of your room, without even saying goodbye, staying in the hallway for a moment to process things. The speed of the contact hadn't given him time to panic, but that didn't stop him from feeling the pumping of his heart hammering like crazy under his chest and hot cheeks under the memory of your lips on them.

When he locked himself in his room he tried to calm down, when he was taking off his clothes to put on his pajamas he tried again, washing his hands and face, going through paperwork before going to sleep, lying down on the bed, closing the eyes... but nothing worked.

And eventually he fell asleep with the ghost of your kiss haunting him through dreams.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #the crows #six of crows #jesper fahey #inej gafha #wylan van eck #nina zenik #mathias helvar #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

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mastermindmiko · 1 year ago

Text

Enigma

pairing: Sirius Black + fem!reader

word count: 2207

Summary: After sirius moves in, you find it harder to keep your feelings hidden, but when you go back to hogwarts, you start to realise that maybe you're not the only one who has those feelings

Warnings: none, I think maybe some spelling mistakes

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

requests are open

an: In a few days, another Sirius + James' sister one shot will be posted. lmk which one you liked more.

He was what every girl and almost every boy wanted. He had the most beautiful hair and the most charming smile. He was charismatic and chaotic in every good way. He fulfilled some people's fantasies by spending a week with them, but he never stayed for longer than that.

To most people, Sirius Black was a complete enigma, but not to me. He is best friends with my brother, and he'd always come spend a few days with us during the summer, but last summer, he came to stay with us permanently.

I, like most of the Hogwarts' population was in love with Sirius Black. What differentiated me from the rest of them was that I actually knew him. Or at least as much as I could with my brother around constantly.

"Honey! Come down for breakfast!" I heard my dad shout, and I hop off my bed. It was Dad's turn to make breakfast today which made me excited. I loved my mom with every fiber of my being, but I could not ever love her cooking.

I open the door, and I stumble into Sirius. He was coming out of his room just like me. He's room is right across from mine, and the only thing separating them was a narrow hallway. James' room was right beside mine, but he mostly bunked over at Sirius'.

"Hi." I say when he's face to face with me. He gives me a smile, and I nearly faint. He really did have the most charming smile to have ever existed. He asked, "So, Monty's cooking today?"

"Yeah."

"Score!" He said, excitedly. Knowing Dad, what could be awaiting down stairs could range from bacon and eggs to his wonderful pancakes, I really hope he made the pancakes. Sirius steps closer to me and holds my hand. I also hope that he doesn't notice the way my cheeks turned red at the action. Sirius said, "Come on, let's go."

He started leading me down stairs, and I couldn't help but smile. this was the bright side of having Sirius over for the summer, getting to spend more time with him, and not having to worry about him every second while he's with his horrible family.

"Wait up!" James says from behind us, and I groan internally. James jogs up to us and puts his arm around my shoulder and around Sirius'. He separates us with his body, and I feel the need to smack him. I can't though because who knows what my brother will do if he finds out about how I feel about Sirius.

"Potters! How are you this fine day?" Dad says, and I grin. I look at the table that he has set, and I notices the pancakes. I celebrate my triumph and head to the table. I head to sit at my usual place, but Sirius beats me to it by pulling out my chair for me. I grin at him gratefully, though the behavior is odd. James sits opposite to me. Dad sits at the head of the table, and mom's seat is opposite to him.

I feel the chair next to me get pulled out from under the table, and I look up in surprise to find Sirius going to sit next to me. James notices to, so before Sirius can be fully seated James shouts, "Oi! What you doing over there?"

"I wanted a change for a bit. Besides now I can see you better without having to break my neck." Sirius teases James and gives him a flirty wink. James looks at Sirius suspiciously, but drops it when dad puts James' plate in front of him. I feel butterflies at the fact that Sirius decided to sit next to me.

James shoves a large piece of food in his mouth, and he moans at how delicious the food is. He gulps it down, and looks at dad to say, "I wish you could cook for us everyday."

"Why's that James?" Mom says, coming down the stairs. James pauses and looks at mom scared. She heads towards the table and Sirius greets, "Good morning, Mia."

"Good morning, Sirius." Mom greets back and pulls out her chair to sit. She sits down, straightens her clothes then looks back at James. She repeats, "Why's that, James?"

"Because uh because you work too hard everyday and deserve to rest." James stutters, and I hid my grin behind my hand. Sirius on my right is doing the same as me. Mom hums, satisfied by James' answer, but not believing it one bit. Mom turns to me to ask, "How are you feeling, Honey? This years a big year."

It is. I get to take my OWLs and that means studying all the time, except when there's Quidditch of course. OWLs are very very important, and if I want to be an Auror like mom and dad I need to ace them, which isn't an easy feat. I feel my stomach bubble in nervousness every time I think about the exams. I reply, "Fine."

"You don't have to worry dear, I'm sure you'll do great." Mom reassures me, but it quite frankly does very little. James says, "You're a huge nerd, you'll do well."

I'm not sure if what James said could be categorized as an insult or a compliment. Dad jumps on the supportive train and says, "Besides, if you ever need any help your two brothers can help you."

My face scrunches up at the idea that Sirius is my brother. It makes me feel icky, but I hide my displeasure by giving dad a thankful smile. I wondered if Sirius thought about me that way, too. He's known me ever since he's known James, and as James' younger sister, I wouldn't doubt that he feels some sort of sibling connection between us like the one he feels with James.

"We need to get going, the train will leave in thirty minutes." Sirius said, and I glance up at the clock to find out he was right. I quickly munch on my food and so does everyone else. I needed to check that I have everything I need before we get going.

It doesn't take us a long time before we're on the train. I say goodbye to my mom and dad, and they rush to get to work before they're late. We go to our usual compartment where Remus and Peter are already waiting. I squeak in excitement when I see Remus, and jump into his arms.

I laugh as he embraces me just as tightly. Remus was my closest friend out of all of the boys, and I would say my only friend. Being siblings with James meant that it was hard making friends because everyone wanted me to get to him.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around my middle and pull me away from Remus. I frown at the action, and turn around to tell James off, but instead I see Sirius. My frown depends. Remus sits back in his seat, and before I can sit next to him, Sirius beat me to it. Sirius seats me beside him, and James sits next to Peter, opposite to us.

They all chat about their summers before Remus has to go to the Prefect's compartment for a meeting. I try not to think about Sirius' odd behavior and I try not to think about the way his arm hasn't left my waist. My heart hasn't stopped racing ever since he put it there.

Remus leaves the compartment and leaves a few sad faces as he goes. I grin at my brother's childish antics, and Remus reassures them that he'll be back as soon as he can. Remus waves to me and gives me a smile. I do the same, and I once again, pretend that I don't notice the way Sirius' arm tightens around me. The action however brings James' attention to the situation.

"Um, Padfoot." James says, glaring at Sirius' hand that's around me. Sirius frowns and then notices his arm. He pulls it off me and I feel cold at the loss of contact. Sirius apologizes sheepishly, "Sorry Prongs."

"You better not be thinking about my sister like that." James says, half joking, half dead serious. Sirius chuckles, but there's a tinge of nervousness to it. He replies, "No way, you know that Glynnis is my only girl."

I couldn't believe that I felt jealous, especially jealous of a girl who's twenty years older than me and a famous seeker.

~~~

I may be an idiot and I wouldn't be surprised if I am because I'm thinking that maybe this year is the year that Sirius Black falls for me. He's been acting strange, but in a good way. It's only a few things that I've noticed, they're all subtle, but they mean the world to me.

My only problem with these new actions were that they would all be perceived as protective...in a brotherly way. The thought alone is enough to make me gag.

"Potter and Black."

I look up to see that Professor Slughorn has called out the names of the partners. I hate Professors and their need to force inter-house unity. I look to find Regulus not moving from his place but his previous partner packing up his things.

Regulus doesn't move an inch, and doesn't even look at me. I roll my eyes, and head over to his desk with my stuff. Merlin! I hope this is at least a bit bearable. I huff and place my stuff on his- our desk. He doesn't say anything when I sit. I purse my lips and let out a polite, "Hey."

He hums, but doesn't look at me. Professor Slughorn starts to talk about the lesson, and so he starts to jot down some notes. So this is how it's going to be for the rest of the semester? Great. I pull out my parchment paper and start writing down some notes myself, but much less vigorous than Regulus is.

Regulus takes the lead in the potions making, and I'm not complaining. Potters have always been great at potions, but the tradition ends with me and James. We're complete messes when it comes to potions. It broke our dad's heard, but our love for Quidditch mended it again.

"How is he?" Regulus randomly whispers, and I could barely hear it. I frown and look at him confused. I ask, "What?"

"Sirius, how is he?" Regulus says, and continues to chop up whatever ingredient he has and places it in the potion. He isn't looking at me and my heart breaks a little. He still cares about him. I reply, "He's good."

Regulus doesn't reply, but nods his head. Regulus is much like Sirius when he was younger. Up until third year, Sirius was quiet which seems impossible considering how he is now. Sirius lacked confidence due to the way his parents raised him. He always said that being sorted into Gryffindor saved him. I wonder if Regulus was the same, except he didn't have anyone to save him.

"If you um if you ever want to talk or something like that, I'm here." I whisper and for the first time. Regulus looks at me. He looks like a mix between surprised and confused. He clears his throat and looks away. He continues to do whatever he's been doing. He says, "We're going to talk anyway."

"We have to get the project done." Regulus says before I can inquire about his sentence. I notice that Slughorn's rambling on about some sort of project that each pair has to get done by a month. The bells ring and Regulus packs up his stuff quickly, leaving the cauldron for the professor to check. I say, "Bye?"

The Black brothers were definitely going to be making this year interesting.

~~~

"Where are you going?" Sirius asks me as I head out with several books huddled in my arms, heading to meet Regulus to get the project done. He's resting on the couch with his arms spread out just like his legs. I try not to stare.

"Since when are you interested in my whereabouts?" I tease him, and Sirius Black, Mr. Charmer, Sir flirting, blushes, and looks away. The action fuels my suspicions that my crush may not be unrequited anymore.

"Just in case James asks." Sirius answers, and I feel my heart plummet, but I still hold on to some hope. I nod and head out of the common room. I call out once I open the portrait, "If he really wants to know then he can check that map of his."

It's not that I don't want to tell sirius that I'm meeting Regulus. It's that I don't know where they stand. Regulus clearly still cares about his brother while Sirius hates his family, I don't know if that means Regulus included.

I'm already at the library, and I sit down next to Regulus, who already has some books open and writing something. I sit down, and Regulus quips, "Took you long enough."

"I'm two minutes late!" I chuckle, and Regulus wastes no time before saying, "I think we should recreate the polyjuice potion."

"But it's very complex." I say weary of the idea. Even the best potion masters have trouble making that one. Regulus says, "which will make it all that more impressive when we get it right."

"Alright, but you're the one who is trying it, not me." I say, raising both my hands as if I'm surrendering. Regulus smiles, a rare thing that I only get to see every so often. He says, "Only if I get to turn into you."

"I'll have a stack of hairs ready." I say with a grin. Regulus' smile falls, and I miss the presence of it. It made him look much less intimidating. His eyes fall to something behind me, and I look to see Sirius sitting between bookshelves, hiding behind a large book about women's problems in the wizarding world.

"We have a stalker." Regulus says, and I actually am surprised that we can so obviously see Sirius. He's always been the best hider out of all the boys, sans invisibility cloak, of course. I turn back to my work and huff, "He's protective."

"He's jealous." Regulus says, and I look at him bewildered. I scoff and chuckle in a weird way and say, "he's acting like that because he thinks I'm his little sister."

"Now, I know that incest runs in Black blood, but Sirius looks at you the way he looks at Glynnis Griffiths." Regulus says, growing more annoyed by Sirius' presence. I stand up. I sigh, "I'll get rid of him."

I walk towards him, and he fumbles on his book, dropping it to the ground. He picks it up quickly and steps deeper in between the bookshelves. I fold my arms in front of my chest and tap my foot against the ground. I purse my lips and then say, "I assume James put you up to this."

"Yes, definitely." Sirius replies in an instant, taking off the dark glasses that he's wearing. I narrow my eyes and him and fake ignorance, "Weird, considering that James has private practice with the beaters today."

Sirius turns viably nervous, very nervous. He looks down to the ground and fidgets. Does Sirius actually have feelings for me? All the signs are there. I take a chance, "Sirius, do you like me?"

"What?!! Why would you say that- I- what I...yes." Sirius sighs at the end and looks down at the ground. I don't say anything and watch him frown. He rubs his face, frustrated, "James is going to kill me."

"He'll just maim you a little." I say and take a step closer to him. I shrug my shoulders and suggest, "Besides, we don't have to tell him right away. We can just put the idea in his head and make him open up to it little by little."

"Wait? You like me?" Sirius says, eyes wide and shocked. I roll my eyes. Some boys are really just idiots. I don't answer him, instead, I pull his tie and kiss him.

I furthermore realise why so many people that were with Sirius never wanted to leave him. He was an amazing kisser. He pulls away and grins at me. He looks at me in a way that makes me feel like my insides are doing cartwheels. I ask, "What?"

"Nothing, you're just so much better than Glynnis."

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

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Girl Dad Cass is a god send! Hahaha you should totally write a one shot of reader and Cass’ daughter and Nyx where they end up secretly dating but everyone finds out! Can you imagine the drama? Like they used to play in paint together, Cass helped raise Nyx, but obviously he’s still “not good enough” for Cassian’s little girl and then how offended Rhys would be at that

....Adriana is back so I could put her with the person I'd been originally planning.....

So Small

Summary - After finding Nyx and Adriana together, chaos ensues in the House of Wind

Warnings - implied smut, verbal fighting, some physical stuff because Illyrians, parents walking in on their kids doing things. (It's a reoccurring theme for Cassian. It's what him and reader get as far as Azriel is concerned.)

A/N - When I first wrote Daddy's Girl, I had intended for Adriana to be out on a date with Nyx, but opted against it for some reason. This I can make work, though. I also tried to fulfill two requests in one here for two of my anonies 💜

Adriana felt herself sinking against the front door of the House of Wind, a wide smile engraved on her face.

Tonight had been perfect. He had opened doors for her, paid for their drinks and dinner, he had asked her to dance. She'd been smitten with him since she was a little girl, but now this was different she knew it too. Maybe it was his eyes. Those blue eyes Adriana had found herself falling into since she turned 50 and finally understood what these feelings were.

They had gone beyond childhood infatuation, beyond teen attraction, beyond anything any book or novel had taught her or what she thought she understood from watching the countless stolen kisses and whispered words that occurred between her parents.

Adriana truly believed she was in love.

She stood, shrugging the leather jacket off and hanging it up before tiptoeing quietly towards the stairs. A light flickering on in the living room caught her eye, then the wings, then the spinning chair.

Her father sat illuminated in his full armor, all 7 siphons burning red, his hands folded gently into his lap as if he didn't know what to do with them. "Wherehabeyoubeen?"

The words were slurred together, causing Adriana to giggle. "Have you been drinking, daddy?"

Cassian scoffed as if the idea was insulting before throwing a glass filled with amber liquid over his shoulder, his face falling as it shattered. He cleared his throat, focusing harder, "I would never drink when my babygirl is missing. Where have you been?"

Adriana paused thinking of any excuse she could to hide her date from her over protective father as long as possible. "With Uncle Rhys and Nyx."

Another chair turned and another light illuminated her Uncle Rhys. His cheeks were kissed slightly red, his posture slouched and so casual Adriana thought she had to be dreaming. "Try again." He slurred out.

"Well Nyx was there. As was Ezra." Another chair turned, and Adriana could not longer hold in her laughter as Azriel turned in it, hiccuping heavily as he tried to remember his clearly rehearsed line.

"I forgot what I was supposed to say." Azriel's eyes were distant, hiccups and giggles falling from his mouth as they all snickered before he did a double take towards her, "but where you?"

Nyx, your father is at my house completely shit faced. She heard the heir sigh in her head. Bring Ezra.

She watched as Rhys slowly slid down his chair, lip pulled between her teeth as she tried not to laugh. "Daddy, how much did you three drink?"

She watched as her father looked between the three of them, trying to count on his fingers and blinking rapidly as if they were multiplying on him. "I only had one." His answer was definitive. "Azriel had… how much did you drink, Azzie?"

The shadowsinger went into another hiccup fit before laughter turned into sobered seriousness. Her uncle was playing along and had her breath stilling in her throat. "Addy, I know what you were doing, who you were with." She moved to Azriel, his hand gently taking hers as he blocked Cassian and Rhys from hearing their conversation. "He's a good choice, Adriana." His whispered words clenched at her heart. "I can't imagine a better match for you or him."

Ezra and Nyx appeared. Ezra shirtless and in his sweatpants, clearly having just woken up, further foiled the fake plan she had gone with. Rhys pointed at his nephew, "You were NOT at the concert."

Ezra looked at him, hazel eyes scrunching. "Cauldron boil me, we can't fucking move them out of this house. There's still guest rooms upstairs right?" Adriana nodded as Ezra took his father from her. "Come on dad, let's go lay down."

Azriel nodded, falling back into the act and allowing his son to support him up the stairs to his old bedroom.

Nyx took Rhysand next, "You too, pops. Let's go upstairs and get you some water, yeah?" The heir helped his father, throwing Adriana one last charming smile ans wink as he left her to the lone wolf sitting in a chair, eyes following her every move.

"Daddy, can I deactivate your siphons?" Cassian grunted holding his hands out for her. She pressed the glowing red stones lightly, preparing to step back, only to be yanked into his lap. "Daddy, we can go snuggle in my room."

"Right here is fine." He had his nose buried in her hair. His normal scent of fire and winter air was mixed with the heavy scent of expensive dry aged whiskey and deep wines. "Tell me about your date, nugget."

Adriana froze, leaning back to stare into his eyes. Despite his drunkenness they radiated love, adoration, and almost worship for her. They were the windows into her father's soul, screaming his every emotion to her. The worry, the pain of losing his daughter, the joy in her finally exploring the world.

"I really like him, daddy." Cassian nodded. His hand rubbing his face. "He was good and kind. He held doors open, bought everything, asked me questions about myself." She felt the first sob before the tears actually came and her father buried himself into her shoulder. "Daddy, whats wrong?"

Cassian held tight to her dress, crying into his daughter's shoulder as emotion overwhelmed him. He knew it was the intoxication, and mentally noted in the sober part of his mind to give himself some grace. "I'm just not ready, baby. Your brothers are hardly home anymore, and now you think you can just run around and and date males? I'm old. How am I supposed to handle this."

Adriana smiled thinking of Asher and Flynn up at Windhaven. "Your sons are currently the joint lords of one of the most respected Illyrian Camps. Both with wonderful wives." She brushed his long dark hair from his sweaty forehead. "They're literally coming home for a two week visit tomorrow. And visit almost monthly." She kissed his forehead, watching as his eyes shut and his shoulder relaxed, wings coming to wrap around them.

"I think I'm allowed to date because I am a grown female," Cassian shook his head.

"My baby. You're my baby."

"And I'll always be your baby, daddy." Her tone was gentle but firm, reminding him instantly of her mother. "I will always be your little girl, dad. I just want what you and mom have."

"Does he give you that?" Cassian's voice was almost suddenly sober. "Does he give you those butterflies when he says your name? Does he make your finger and toes feel tingly when he holds your hand?"

Adriana nodded. "Then I can't exactly be mad when you tell me that and I see those stars sparkling in your eyes, can I?" Her brought her head into his shoulder and neck. "How can I say no when you look the happiest I've ever seen you?"

"It'd be pretty rude to, honestly." Cassian hummed. His large hand holding her smaller one, allowing her to feel every scar and callous from years of training to create this beautiful period of peace she was raised in. "I love you, daddy."

"And Gods, I love you," his voice broke again with tears. "I love you so fucking much, baby."

3 months later

They got too comfortable. After months of Ezra, Micha, and a few other friends covering for them, they got sloppy.

Nyx had been coming over to bring Adriana paperwork, that was it. She had a few reports he needed to get to his dad as soon as possible, but how could he have said no when he found her alone in an empty home, naked as the day she was born in her room.

It was worth it, he kept telling himself as Cassian kicked him back to the ground. Worth every second. She was worth every second.

"You fucking helped raise her! How long have you been grooming her?! How long have you been taking advantage of her?"

A fist found the side of Nyx's jaw and he caved, calling out for his father and mother. Pleading with Ezra and Azriel to come. His Aunt was trying to hold Cassian back. Screaming at him to stop. Screaming for him to just talk to Nyx and Adriana. Nyx's eyes flicked to where his mate was, the shadow wraith twins holding her tightly as she begged for Cassian to stop.

Shadows and darkness grabbed Cassian, ripping him away from Nyx and allowing soft hands to hold him. "What the fuck is happening here?" His father's loud voice was laced with anger and fury.

It didn't take the shadowsinger long to put two and two together. Adriana's hair was a mess, a soft satin robe tied tight against her body. Nyx was in boxers, the faint outlines of crescent moon shaped wounds in his back and shoulders. "Nyx and Adriana finally got caught." Several eyes shot to him, and he shrugged. "They weren't that sneaky."

Ezra's jaw tightened as he grabbed the dress his own shadows brought him before going to Adriana and covering her in them to allow her to put clothing on. "Just tell them Nyx, cat is out of the bag already."

The heir was holding his jaw, reaching deeply inside himself to prevent from lashing out against Cassian the way his blood was pounding for him to. "She's my mate. We've been dating for close to 7 months now and hid it for this exact reason." Nyx winched as Rhysand came to him, checking the forming bruise.

"I never once tried to touch her when she was a child. I never once told her she couldn't see anyone else. She's been on countless dates with a few other High Lords sons, with a few illyrians from Windhaven, and a random shopkeeper. I never interfered or stopped her."

Cassian growled loudly, about to hit his nephew again until Azriel and y/n held him back. "I have watched what you do to females, Nyx. That's not happening. Not my daughter."

Rhys shot Cassian a look. "What my son has done? You mean following our mutual shit advice and enjoying his youth?"

Adriana felt her world shifting and falling apart, your words were ignored as Rhys and Cassian began to argue again. Her heart was in her throat as she started to cry. Ezra tucked her into him tightly, hand lacing into her locks as he tried to calm her down. "Daddy, I love him," she felt warmth down the bond as Nyx sent a silent I love you back to her.

"I never strung females along the way he has, Rhys," the general growled. "I'm not allowing that to date my girl." Rhys clicked his tongue, finger pointing at Cassian.

You gave the two of them a look before looking between your two child, sympathy etched deep into your features. "Let's all just go sit down and talk about this."

"And he's not good enough. He's going to use you just like he did every female before you."

It was Rhysand's turn then. He jumped Cassian without warning, fists flying as he lost himself and his composure. You went to try to pull them apart, only to have Feyre jump you, thinking you were about to help Cassian.

Hell had broken loose in that moment. You were not combat trained. You were a scholar, a Librarian who spent her days reading and researching ancient civilizations and languages for your High Lord. You could hardly defend yourself against the high lady, just begging her stop, telling her you were trying to stop the fight. Azriel was moving first, but ended up getting tangled into the fight with Cassian and Rhys.

Nyx was immediate to grab his mother, ripping her off of you and staring at her as if she was insane. He knew better than to stop between his father and Cassian. Blood had been drawn between the two. Fists were being thrown at a speed he couldn't even comprehend. He left them to Azriel, Ezra, and their shadows as he knelt down beside his crying aunt. "Mom, you need to go get Madja." His aunt was covered in her own blood, shaking. "Mom, I'm not asking. I am telling you. Go get Madja now."

"Dad, she's hurt, bad." The sentence had Rhys and Cassian stopping mid strike, their shirts both held in one fist. Rhys took one look at you and froze, his hand dropped from Cassian. They had been so caught in their own fight they had not even heard you and Feyre begin to. Cassian's hand dropped from Rhys as he ran to you, cradling you against his chest as you whimpered.

His father's attack was understandable, justified even by Illyrian standards. His mother's attack had been to hurt Cassian to make Cassian feel as low as his parents were right now. It wasn't understandable, nor justified. It went against every lesson Nyx, Ezra, and Adriana had ever been taught. Never harm the priestesses. Never harm the scholars.

"Get out of my house." He demanded. "Take your fucking son and get out of my home." It could have all been forgiven, it could have all been talked out, but this was a line. A crossed, now broken, line Rhysand and Azriel did not know if Feyre or Rhys could fix. "We'll be moved out and into Windhaven by the end of the week. Get the fuck out of my house.. Now."

Adriana had moved from Ezra's protection to her mother, comforting her softly as she began to assess the wounds. "Ezra," Nyx flinched as his mate called for their friend instead of him. "I need water and a few rags please."

The younger shadowsinger moved without hesitation and was back all in time for Rhys and Cassian to begin another verbal spar.

"It was instinct to protect her mate, Cassian, she didn't mean to." Cassian shook his head, holding his wife closer to him.

Azriel looked a Rhys and then down at you and Cassian and instantly moved to help Adriana clean and assess your wounds.

Your lip was split open, jaw bruised, eye bruised. Feyre had not pulled a single punch.

"You think this is justified? I walk in on your son fucking my daughter. I saw red, Rhys. I fought another male who has gone through extensive training." He paused. "I made a comment in anger I shouldn't have and was going to let you beat the shit out of me because I deserved that and I am trained." His finger ran the length of your bloodied lip. "My wife has no training. She's a priestess who claimed sanctuary in the House of Wind and now her high lady has violated that safety."

"Cassian, I'm sorry." Rhysand was pleading. "Let me heal her. Please. Let me heal her and we can all talk about this."

Nyx shook his head at his dad. "We can't fix this," he muttered. "Not right now. It's too fresh."

Rhys disagreed, moving slowly to kneel down next to you. It was a dangerous game. Cassian was always protective of you, even before the bond snapped and you accepted it. He had found you naked, beaten, and covered in the blood of other females in an Illyrian temple. A story all too familiar to them with Azriel's own wife. Unlike the ferocious redhead, though, you had found comfort in the quiet.

Cassian had begun courting you around the same time Azriel had Gwyn. Cassian had found it much harder. You were a gentle being who appreciated the little things, Cassian was a warrior known for grand and dramatic gestures. Oil and fire, they all had joked. But even now, you two and the love you shared burned so brightly it seemed to be a beacon of hope to all around you.

Rhys held eye contact with him, pressing a hand gently to your face. He healed you while maintaining that contact with Cassian, eyes pleading. "Please do not take my son's mate away from him because mine made an unforgivable error. If you never speak to Feyre and I again," Rhysand's throat tightened at the thought alone, "I will understand, but please. Do not make them part ways over this."

Cassian's jaw twitched as Rhys sent him the memories of he and Azriel holding the high lord when Feyre was trapped in Spring and again after Tamlin had taken her in Hybern. "Please do not make him experience the pain I did."

"Ezra, can you take y/n to our room please." Cassian would not look at them. "Nyx there's spare leathers in the shed if you want to borrow some so we can all talk."

The conversation had moved to the living room. Adriana tucked tight into Cassian's side as they waited for Madja to come back down. Ezra was pacing the fireplace area. Azriel was in a chair between Rhys and Cassian. Nyx was sat next to his father.

Feyre had left immediately upon her return with Madja, crying as she fully realized the extent of what she had done. She knew she needed to allow her husband to handle his brother and this situation before she could apologize.

"What if-"

"Don't," Cassian stopped Adriana gently. "Don't think that or put it into the air, little one. Positive thoughts only." He kissed her head, refusing to continue the discussion of Feyre's actions until Madja came back.

The old healer appeared downstairs and motioned for Cassian to join her in another room. Adriana folding in on herself, heavy sobs shaking her body as her wings tucked in tight against her frame.

Nyx moved to her instantly. "Adriana, what's going on?"

Adriana shook her head. She knew her mother still had nightmares about her attack, nightmares that kept her father up late into the night. Nightmares that had been gone for a little over a month now, and this may trigger.

Cassian moved back into the room, thanking Madja as she went back up the steps and to your side. He nodded to Adriana, taking a different seat to allow Nyx to continue to comfort her.

Cassian knew what he needed to do, putting a hand on the heir's knee and waiting for him to look at him. When his blue eyes finally did, Cassian spoke. "I am sorry I put my hands on you in anger and said cruel things about you and to you." Nyx felt his lip tremble slightly. "I am sorry, Nyx. I was in shock. I was angry because I didn't even know she's had sex before. I thought that you were-" Cassian shook his head. "There's no excuse for what I said or did. I just hope you can find it in your heart and mind to forgive me someday."

Nyx threw himself into his uncle's arms. "I already forgive you. I promise her first time was special. I promise I treated her well."

"I know you did," Cassian confirmed. "I know you love her. I can see it. I've been able to for a while. Just, please stop hiding things from me when it comes to my daughter." Nyx nodded. "I won't take her away. I promise, Nyxie. Ezra would also kill me."

The young shadowsinger nodded. "I would try. Your old ass is still pretty spunky, though."

Nyx moved back to his spot, allowing Cassian to move to Adriana. "No more lying," he said firmly. "No more hiding anything from us. We raised you in an open and supportive household. We allowed you to make decisions based on your judgements and supported you as long as what you did wouldn't cause harm to anyone else. I raised you better than to keep lies and secrets from your mother and I. Agreed?"

Adriana nodded. "I'm sorry, daddy."

"I know you are, angel. It's okay."

You came down the stairs with Madja. Walking the healer to the door, you stopped as you saw Feyre sitting on the steps. You grabbed her hand gently, pulling her into the living room where your families all sat.

"Are we all actually surprised by this?" You finally asked. "Or are we just trying to continue to deny something that clearly has been existing since Adriana figured out she likes males?"

The room went into laughter. You moved to Nyx, kissing his forehead. "You are so much more than we could have ever asked for, Nyx. I am so sorry this was the response you got." Adriana had moved to Rhysand and Feyre's open arms while you and Cassian paid attention to their oldest son.

"It's my fault too," he closed his eyes, enjoying your hands running through his short hair. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have encouraged her to hide it until we were sure."

"And you are sure now?" You asked holding eye contact with Nyx.

He nodded. Conjuring a small black box and showing Cassian who hid it using his wing. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

You kissed his forehead again, tears welling in your eyes, "Then this is the perfect happy ending."

"No," Cassian spoke softly, watching as Rhysand held Adriana's face in his hands, his forehead resting against hers as they spoke with her about shadowing Feyre for a month. Rhysands thumbs were stroking his daughter's cheeks as she nodded, tears in his and Feyre's eyes. "This is the perfect beginning."

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #rhys acotar #girldad!cassian #cassian x you

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sscieloz · 1 year ago

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Hi! I just found your blog and I’m looking forward to your works. Could I request a Seulgi angst fic; where you and Seulgi have been in a happy, loving, fulfilling, committed relationship for the past 3 years, but one day when she came back from practice with the girls you two got into a heated argument about how she’s always canceling dates with you because work related things come up that she “can’t miss” and she ends up bringing up something that you had confided in Her about awhile ago and uses it against you; to which she immediately regrets and tries to take back and can you take it from there? Thank you! I look forward to it:)

Missing you

Kang Seulgi x reader

Warnings: toxic!relationship, angst (dw it’s all good now)

Word count: 3.7k

Notes: hi!! sorry for taking long <3. I kind of struggled to think of a motive of them arguing bc it kept getting too dark (as in they wouldn’t be able to get past this lol) and I kinda wanted a happy ending. I hope this is to your liking!! Kisses mwah mwah.

Your gaze flew to the clock for the 30th time in a spam of five minutes, making you sigh in defeat. Seulgi had promised you she’d meet you at your favorite restaurant for dinner, as a way to make up to you for being so busy over the past weeks. Yet there you were, sitting alone with a glass of bitter wine for over two whole hours before you finally gave up and went home, realizing she wouldn’t come. Again.

Babe <3

Hey baby, rehearsals are going up until late since we still have so much to work on

I won’t make it to dinner. Sorry.

Next week, though? I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

I love you

You got into your apartment just as her message lit up your phone. You threw it over the sofa, preparing yourself a long bath to try to relax. You took a deep breath before entering the warm water, the bubbles and the silence easing your tensed muscles. You tried not to think about your girlfriend or your relationship, knowing it’d only make you even more upset, but your thoughts didn’t seem to let you rest.

You and Seulgi loved each other, you knew that much. You’ve never loved her any less in those three years you’ve been dating, but it pained you to see how much you’ve drifted apart lately. You felt like you were the only one trying to spend time with her, and it wasn’t like you weren’t busy yourself: being an intern in one of Seoul’s top hospitals while studying for residency was tiring and difficult, specially since you’ve always been a bit behind your colleagues, having to push yourself harder than the most to simply be at their level. Still, you always made sure to make some time for Seulgi. Why couldn’t she do the same? Were you not important to her?

Those thoughts made you sigh, your body immersed in the water until it went limp and the water grew cold. Part of you wished you could be somewhat more imposing: demand more from her, confront the woman over your issues, telling her how you felt. You couldn’t, though. You were too weak for that. Which was the reason you dragged yourself to bed, rolling over to set your alarm on your phone before allowing your body to be dragged by sleep.

It’s ok.

Next time, then

Gnight love

Seulgi’s reply came hours later, although you were fast asleep.

Sweet dreams, dearest.

To say you were having a bad day was a euphemism. Your preceptor had given you the biggest, shittiest lecture over nothing (so what if you couldn’t get the stupid procedure done at the very first try? He had no right to scream at you to get out of the OR like that, let alone yell at your face for over half an hour about how dumb and unprepared you were, compared to others. Preposterous piece of crap). You nearly fell down the stairs on your way to lunch and, to make it better, your umbrella broke, making you run all the way home after being dropped at the bus stop to try to get less soaked. It didn’t work, and you entered your place with chattering teeth and the feeling of the wind carved deep in your bones. Your body was trembling so much from the cold and the stress, you dropped your keys twice before you managed to open the door, finally sighing in relief.

That relief, however, ended just as you spotted your girlfriend’s silhouette leave your kitchen and enter your living room, smiling as if she hadn’t fucked up hard by leading you on for so long.

“Jesus baby, you’re soaked.” She frowned, giving you a peck on the lips. Your body went rigid at her touch, exhausted from everything, which made Seulgi confused. She was finally able to make some time and come see you, so why weren’t you happy?

You simply murmured something along the lines of hello and so nice to see you, before hurrying to your room to get rid of the wet clothes that clung to your body. You took the hottest shower of your life, trying to wash all the discomfort away, which didn’t work in the slightest.

You loved Seulgi so much it hurt, but the last thing you wanted for the day was to see her. You felt drained, your body ached, and you so desperately wanted to hide under your sheets and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want to talk about your day—about anything, specially not to her. It’d demand too much energy to explain what was going on with you over the past few weeks, since you never seemed to properly talk to each other, anymore. You had no energy for that.

And you’ve always sucked at communicating, anyway.

You forced yourself to leave your room, dragging your feet in tiredness, and found Seulgi setting up the table for two. You sat down, still silent, and watched as she put some Tteokbokki for herself.

“I’ve already eaten at the hospital.” You told her, returning her stare with a shrug. Seulgi sighed at your pettiness; perhaps you did get mad at her for canceling on you on the prior week, unlike you’d told her. And the week before that. And-

Ok. She might deserve a bit of your cold shoulder. But you simply had to understand her: she was working so hard with the girls to prepare for their comeback, and there were still many things to be adjusted. Their expected date was approaching, and you’ve always been so comprehensive. Sure, she knew you often masked your feelings or simply dismissed them to try to please others, but she’d asked you about it so many times. If something was making you uncomfortable, you’d sure tell her. Right?

“So,” She grunted, adjusting herself in the chair. “How was your day?”

“It was fine, thanks.”

“Okay.” Seulgi murmured, not touching her food either. She was beginning to get irritated at your distance now. Sure, she knew being a doctor was exhausting and time-consuming, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t having one hell of a week, either. Her fingers twitched under the table, and she no longer stood the awkward silence between you. Rolling her eyes, she added, “Are you just going to be a bitch all night? Because I got here straight from practice, I’m tired as fuck and the last thing I want is for you t—“

“What are you doing here, then, Seulgi?” You interrupted her, feeling the anger rise on yourself too. “Don’t you have rehearsals and recordings to be too busy with? Or should I just be so fucking grateful that my girlfriend decided to grace me with her company? Am I not paying enough attention to your liking?” You usually tried your best to not be rude to others, keeping your sarcastic thoughts to yourself, but your sudden anger flared up and forged a cloud over your mind, making it hard to see clearly through it. “Should we call the others, then? The girls you spend all fucking day with?”

Seulgi rose from the table, her face heating up at your words and suggestions. You played low at that, you both knew it, but now you’ve gotten her way too pissed to think about consequences.

“What the fuck, Yn? What’s gotten into you?” She screams, leaning forward so you two were face to face, “I know it was not ideal at all to skip our dinner.” Multiple ones, you both knew it, but neither pointed it out loud. “But you know I can’t miss work. Please understand.”

Seulgi was just so mad and frustrated. Her times with you were always stress-relieving to her, but lately all you’ve been doing is either argue about minor stuff or simply not talk at all. It was taking a toll on her when it shouldn’t, not with her comeback so close and her stress levels already escalating. It wasn’t good for you either, with your crazy work routines and weekly exams at the hospital. She knew that.

But you couldn’t seem to make it work.

“What’s gotten into me?” You stood up yourself, too, towering over her. Since you were always so sweet and patient, Seulgi would often forget how much taller you were— in fact, it was one of the things she first noticed when you first met; it had gotten her attention instantly. She hated it now, though— how small it made her feel. “What’s gotten into me is that it seems like I don’t even have a fucking girlfriend anymore! You ignore me all the time like I’m just some friend and not someone who matters! I don’t even know what you’re doing half of the time, with God knows who.” You threw your hands in the air, exasperated.

Her expression turned into a scowl, and she rolled her eyes, palms curling into fists to shake the urge of grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking your insecurities away. Seulgi hated when you implied such things. You were the love of her life, and she’d never, never cheat on you, no matter how distant you were. But you were (deeply) insecure, and she knew that. She was also so, so enraged and stressed.

“Jesus, why are you always so fucking dramatic?” she was quick to snap back, defensive. “Acting like I’m going to leave you for the first person I see in the stree…” Seulgi’s words died on her mouth, immediately realizing the power of her words, making both of you gasp. She tried to reach out to you, but you pushed your chair roughly to get away from her.

Your body went rigid, countless memories of you crying to her flagged your mind. You’ve confessed to her many times about how much it bothered you to not have her around as much. You missed her deeply, and even though you trusted her completely, your mind was always playing tricks on you — not only about her, but with everything: how you weren’t enough at University, always behind your friends in grades; not interesting enough to make long last friendships, as you often saw in big groups of friends; not pretty or talented enough for your girlfriend, who was constantly around so many amazing people. That’s just how your mind worked 24/7; constantly wondering.

And now, Seulgi made sure to tell you just how much she hasn't forgotten any of that. Any of the things that made you deeply insecure.

“Get out.” You told her, hugging yourself to hide the urge of running straight to her arms.

Seulgi took a step forward, but it only made you back away twice as much. “Baby, I’m so sorry… listen, I—“

“I said get out!” You screamed this time, the tears you were fighting so hard to contain rolling freely on your face.

All the sensations you were suppressing all week erupted, boiling over your surface as you brushed past the hallway to try to get to your room, to the bathroom, anywhere small were you could be confined and finally let it all go. You were straight up sobbing now, your body hot from moving roughly alongside your heavy breathing. You were so sick of everyhting. Work, your friends, her. Her words hurt, and all you wanted was to disappear. You didn’t quite feel your body as the tears clouded your eyes, and suddenly very light, delicate hands were lifting you up —you now realized you’d simply sunk in the middle of the hallway, hugging your knees as strong as you could— and guiding you to your bedroom. Seulgi helped you to get under the covers as she lay down beside you, careful to not overwhelm you even more. When the older woman saw you’d settled down a bit, she opened her arms, making you cling onto her immediately. You knew you shouldn’t, but it was so comforting, and you loved her so much… You’d allow yourself just that, only for a few moments.

“I-I don’t want to do this anymore.” you muttered against her neck, wetting her shirt with your tears. “I’m so tired, Seulgi. I can’t.”

You felt her tense before you for brief seconds before her soothing touches went on, kissing your forehead ever so gently— almost as if you were made of glass. You certainly felt like it, at the moment. Like you were a glass full of cracks, threatening to shatter.

“Shh, it’s ok.” She cooed, running her hands under your shirt to draw small circles on your bare back, as she knew it soothed you and made you sleep almost instantly. “You’re too tired right now. Sleep, ok? I’ll be here when you wake up, then we’ll talk.”

You didn’t like the idea of talking things out with Seulgi. It would be too tiring, and maybe, just maybe… you were postponing it for so long because you feared what the outcome would be.

You were too afraid to lose her. So you’d rather leave things as they were, no matter how broken and uncomfortable they might be.

Your eyes, however, were already closing on their own, the warmth of her body making it so easy to just give in and rest.

“Okay.” You whispered, hugging her closer. “Tomorrow.”

You fell into a sleep without dreams soon enough.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was how messy the right side of the bed— Seulgi’s side was. You’d missed the wrinkled sheets and how it always looked like a hurricane had passed over your bed whenever she came over, from how much she moved in her sleep. It made you smile to yourself as you got up, bare feet on the ground, while you hesitantly looked around for her, too scared to call her name out loud and find her gone.

It wouldn’t be the first time she broke a promise, after all.

You’d forgotten how much all the little things with her made you happy.

“…Hello?” You asked— secretly relieved, at the sight of your girlfriend kneeling on the ground, little wrinkles adorning her face as she tried hard to shove too many clothes on your washing machine.

She looked up, startled by the sound of your voice, but quickly smiled. “Hi. Did you have a good sleep?” Seulgi sounded genuinely concerned, making you curse yourself silently for worrying her.

Are you ok? She wanted to ask you. Seeing you so distressed had gotten her so guilty and concerned. She hated to see you like this, and it killed her to know she was to blame. I care.

“Yeah, I did, thanks.” You shrugged it off, standing awkwardly at her sides. “You don’t have to do my laundry, you know.”

“Well, someone has to.” Seulgi scoffed, rolling her eyes as she finally managed to close the machine’s door, even if with a bit of an effort.

You opened your mouth, faking being offended while bringing your hands to your heart. “I was going to do it, okay? On…”

“Saturday.” You both finished, together. Saturdays were laundry day for you, though you rarely followed your schedule through. It made you smile, to know she remembered it, and you said nothing, trying to not break the nice moment you were having.

“So, do you want to have lunch? We can go out, if you’d like.” Seulgi suggested, her tone careful as she fidgeted the hem of her big sweatshirt.

You simply stared at her, confused. Lunch? Had you really slept for that long?

“You slept for 13 hours, babe.” She clarified, looking at your confused face, making you quickly check your phone to confim the truth: it was, indeed, nearly lunchtime.

You’ve never been so grateful to be on your day off as much as you did now, or else you would’ve sure missed your pre-rounds at the hospital.

“Oh, ok.” You answered, a bit ashamed for dozing out for so long. “Let’s have lunch, then.” You realized she must’ve been skipping work, too; which was why you added, frowning. “Don’t you have to be in the company? It’s ok if you do. I can wait until nigh—“

“Don’t worry about it.” Your girlfriend clarified, motioning for you to get ready. “Let’s just have lunch, ok?”

You took a deep breath, knowing what she meant; it was urgent for the two of you to sit, talk and solve things. Giving in, you followed her, changing from your pajamas and fixing your hair as she grabbed some of your clothes (that were too big on her, as always. she loved it.) to go out.

“Ok.”

You played with your hands, sitting in front of Seulgi at a local restaurant near your house as you waited for your food to come. The cozy atmosphere didn’t do much to easy your discomfort, and you tried hard to not bite your (already deeply bitten) nails off. Seulgi’s eyes were trained on you, making you feel as if hundreds of tiny needles were piercing your skin through her gaze. To your surprise, not once had she checked her phone, unlike all the times you’ve been together over the last few months. Instead, her sole attention was on you, like you dreamed of so many times in those last weeks.

Now, however, her current focus only makes you want to throw up, from the nerves of the situation.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself.” She expressed, as a matter of fact. It was true, but her accusation made you defensive, eyes snapping to her as you took a deep breath.

You were tired of arguing, and this was one of your favorite places: you’d rather not cause a scene. “Seulgi.”

“Am I lying?” Your piercing gaze was enough for her to roll her eyes, hands up to show you she wasn’t looking for a fight either. “Ok, let’s not go there.” Her tone dropped an octave, “I just worry, ok? You seem to be having it pretty tough.”

She wasn’t pressuring you to say anything before the two of you actually discussed your issues— you knew it as much. It as just hard for you to express yourself, now even more to do so without crying. And you didn’t want to cry in front of her.

“This rotation has been tough, like I already knew it would be.” You told her, refusing to meet Seulgi’s eyes. “It’s ok, though. It’s nearly over, now. Things will get better, then.”

You’d talked about it before your rounds started, Seulgi remembered. Flashes of you, worried, flashed through her mind, with herself assuring you she’d be by your side to help you on each step of your journey.

The memory made her want to throw up, too.

“Look at me, baby.” You heard her say, yet you still refused to meet her eyes. Instead, you felt her hands holding yours, her touch firm. “Yn, look at me.”

You closed your eyes to prepare yourself for whatever was about to come, a few quiet moments amidst the storm of both of your minds. When you opened them, she was ready to welcome you. “I’m sorry, ok? I truly am so, so sorry for those last couple of weeks— hell, these couple of months. I’m such an idiot for leading you on like that and for not treating you like you deserve it. I love you, God, I fucking love you more than anything in this world, Yn, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.” Her grip went tighter, but you didn’t care. You could only listen to her words. “I promise I’ll do better, to show you how much you matter to me. I’ll be here for you, just like you’ve always been, for me.” She murmured, taking your hands to your lips as she kissed them gently.

Little droplets of tears still threatened to fall from your eyes as your voice faltered, a bulge forming in your throat. You loved Seulgi and needed her like the air you breathed, and sure missed her every second of the day, when you weren’t together. But her distance had hurt you, deeply.

She was crying, too. You realized you’ve actually never seen her cry, in the 3 years you’ve been dating.

“Your distance really hurt.” You managed to voice it to her, between hiccups. “I-I felt like I was doing something wrong all the time.”

“You weren’t. You’d never, baby.” She reassured you, running her hands through your hair to get it out of your wet face. “It was my fault. You’re mine and I’m yours, ok? We’ll start over, and I’ll show you how much you matter to me. I won’t fuck up our relationship anymore.” She looked at you timidly, adding, “And I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, too. It was not my place to use something you confined at a moment like that. I was such a huge bitch.”

“It’s ok.” You muttered, though still hurt.

“No it’s not.” She exclaimed, serious. “It was horrible, and I’m deeply sorry for that. It’s not going to happen again. Ever.”

Instead of answering, you lunged forward, kissing her urgently— fuck the restaurant and etiquette. Seulgi kissed you with equal fervor, savoring your taste. God, she’d missed you so much.

“I love you.” You told her, smiling as you ended the kiss, leaning on the chair. She pouted, but opened a big smile as she saw yours. “And I don’t want us to end. We’ve been through so much. I want to be by your side, with anything that comes.”

“I love you more, Yn. We’ll be together, always. Nothing will fuck us up anymore. No rehearsals, recordings… nothing.” Her hands brushed your lips as she stared at your face, enamored, before adding. “Now tell me about everything I’ve missed. And I mean everything. Don’t save your words.”

You laughed at her, nodding as you quietly started from the beginning: you’ve told her every bit she missed, and Seulgi told everything about herself, too. You ate your food with content, exchanging every single moment with her until hours had passed, and you’ve decided to return home.

And as you walked in the park together, the windy breeze calmed your soul, and with your love by your side, you felt much, much better.

As it should always be.

176 notes · View notes

concreteburialplot · 4 months ago

Text

Intertwined // 06

-> 06 - Like Us*

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 6.7k

Summary: Following Nick & Noah’s dispute, Noah discovers that life without Nicholas is lackluster. When an emergency arises, Noah’s fling runs to Nick seeking his help. Nicholas finds Noah in a state he’s never seen him in before, and wonders if he’s enough to save him this time.

Warnings: sad lmao, mentions of porn, handjob, nonverbal noah, night terrors, mentions of past character deaths, vague mentions of serious mental/medical issues, soft?, sorry this has taken forever, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members. This is completely fictional. Obviously.

DISCLAIMER: the actions depicted here surrounding night terrors are intentionally incorrect to reflect their age. do not take advice from fictional 19 year olds. seek professional advice.

-NOAH-

Having to ask your girlfriend’s sober housemate to come get you because you don’t have a car or money for an Uber is humiliating – but it’s still better than staying home with Nick after our… fight? We’ve never really fought before but it’s all we seem to do lately.

It’s probably my fault anyway, with the moving in and everything. I know Nick has never had to share his space with anyone the way we do now. Him and Stella have always had separate rooms so, this would be the first time he’s ever had to share a room with anyone. Technically I suppose, it’s my first time too. Being an only child has its perks, one of which being always having a room to yourself.

I shake the thoughts from my head as I walk up the sorority house steps to find Kassidy waiting for me at the door.

“Noah!” She exclaims excitedly and throws her arms around my neck, as much as she can, being an entire foot shorter than me.

Normally, I’d be happy to see her, but after earlier with Nick, her voice almost feels like nails on a chalkboard.

“Kass.” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster and place my hands at her sides, subtly pulling her off of me.

“I missed you.” She pouts.

It had only been a couple hours since I last saw her and oddly, the simple words feel a bit suffocating.

“Missed you too.” I offer a tight-lipped smile.

The corners of her lips tug into a huge grin while she takes my hand and drags me up the stairs to one of the various rooms in the sizable home.

“You have this entire room to yourself?” I ask while taking in the bedroom. It’s bigger than Nicholas’, filled with a bed, a dresser, a tv mounted above it, and last but not least, a couch. Her very own couch.

“Yep!” She grins widely. “Most of the other girls have to share a room but I don’t – I think it has to do with my dad paying for a building or something.” She waves off the topic and plops down on her couch across from the tv and begins scrolling through it. “What do you wanna watch?”

There are certain things I tend to catalog in my mind that I like to call, “Never Knows” – these are things that I know I will never, ever experience in my life. Like being a NASCAR driver, or a popstar, or climbing Everest, or owning a mansion. Or even smaller things, like calling home and knowing someone will always answer or having just one pleasant Thanksgiving with relatives. These are things that are just impossible and improbable for me to ever experience.

Having a parent buy an entire building so that I get special treatment is definitely one of those things. I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily spending time with her because I want to marry her but, it makes me wonder just how fulfilled someone like her would actually be with someone like me as a husband. Another Never Know is knowing that I’d never be able to buy her a building of any kind, nonetheless a home.

She pats the couch cushion next to her, “C’mon babe, sit down next to me?”

“Yeah sure, um,” I run a hand through my locks and meet her on the couch with a forced smile. “Why don’t we just search romantic comedies and see what we find?”

“Sounds good to me.” She smiles wide and begins flicking through the romance category. That’s when I begin to daze out – whether it’s the alcohol or the weed or the fatigue of the night I’m not sure, but I can’t seem to latch on to any of the words she or the TV speaks. The only thing my brain wants to stick to is the last conversation with Nick. We’ve never kept secrets from each other like that before and definitely never lied.

Is he lying to me?

Maybe it is just the room situation wearing on us – that’s the only thing that’s really changed.

Kassidy nuzzles her way into my side with a blanket and I’m grateful she doesn’t pry into my silence. I don’t realize that we’re already halfway through the movie until I see the main characters share their first kiss. It’s cinematic, slow motion, twinkling, fireworks and it settles an odd, heavy pit in my stomach. Does that feeling only exist in the movies? Or is that something I should feel with Kassidy? Does she feel it? Is she supposed to? Am I?

Or is it another Never Know – is it one of those things where everyone else seems to experience something, except me. Would that sparkly feeling dance on my lips if Kassidy knew more about me? Would she even still like me if she did?

It’s been about 3 days since I haven’t returned home after the fair. I thought it would be best to give Nicholas and I some space since the cramped room is apparently causing a rift between us. I would’ve probably gone home sooner if Nick had texted or called, but he hasn’t. He must be really enjoying his time alone.

3 days playing house with Kass and our 3rd time trying to hook up. Emphasis on try.

Everything’s so much more complicated and confusing than it’s made out to be in shows or movies or porn.

For how outwardly annoying Kassidy can sometimes be, in my time alone with her, I’ve found that she’s really kind. I’ve already made an utter fool of myself in front of her many times now and she’s been nothing but patient and understanding with me. She’s more experienced than I am so she’s been helping guide me through things, which has been both incredibly embarrassing and helpful.

Whether it was the nerves, the embarrassment or excitement, I’m not sure but it was making my dick not fucking cooperate. For three fucking days my shit hasn’t been working with me. Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to try and hook up with a girl who is very clearly out of your league and not even be able to keep it up? Absolutely fucking humiliating.

I let out a small groan at the glimmer of hope that this might be the time I actually stay hard. I squeeze my eyes shut hard with my head hung back as she works her hand up and down my shaft. She’d already been jacking me off for over 10 minutes with me oscillating between me being hard and semi-hard. She surprisingly wasn’t taking as much offense to it as I expected, and when she posed an interesting solution, I knew this wasn’t her first rodeo with a virgin.

“It’s okay baby, just relax.” She hums and kisses my shoulder. “Why don’t you just… maybe think about whatever porn you usually like to watch.”

My eyebrows furrow with my eyes still closed and she picks up on it.

“Just focus on that and we can work on the rest later, okay?”

I give her as much of a nod as I can at the moment and try to do as she suggested. My mind tries to quickly filter and cycle to pinpoint the last video I watched and go from there. I finally remember but… I’m not alone in the memory. The last video I remember watching is the one I watched with Nick. As much as I try, the haze of my mind can’t remember much of the video itself but I can remember what he felt like in my hand – easily double my size.

My right hand suddenly feels so empty, so I reach over and find her thigh, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Fuck.” I mutter, feeling my chest rising and falling quicker now.

Then creeps in the memory of him spilling all over my hand and my mind runs with it before I can stop it. Unexpectedly, all my nerves rush to where her hand is working. It’s the furthest I’ve gotten so I just try and hold on to the feeling. The flashback continues until a part I had forgotten until now - taste of his cum on my hand. Then, a snapshot of him tasting mine. And abruptly I feel a familiar knot form in my stomach and snap just as quick as it began. My fingers curl, digging harshly into her thigh and into her sheets.

“Nick, fuck!” My entire body involuntarily flinches as my cock twitches and spills over her hand.

My eyes snap open wide at the ceiling at the realization of what fell from my lips. My inhales and exhales are rapid and staggered both from my climax and the sheer panic that washes over me.

What the FUCK?

When I finally look down at her, she’s smiling, not at all phased by what I blurted out in the moment.

“Told you we’d get it.” She gets up to wipe her hand off with a nearby towel.

As I lay there trying to gather myself, my brain can’t process the rush of thoughts that flood my mind. It must have been just a weird brain connection, right? It was a fluke, a mistake, a heat of the moment thing.

-NICHOLAS-

Noah hadn’t come home in a couple of days, which normally would’ve upset me more than it has, but I think I needed to be alone. I’ve really enjoyed the solitude but, I also miss having him next to me all the time. Even though it’s been less lately, with Folio and Kassidy and their study group, I can’t remember the last time he hadn’t slept next to me until now.

I took this time away from him to do something I didn’t know how I was going to accomplish with him around.

The long-haired worker inspects the broken guitar I brought in on the front desk.

“You said a man did this?” He questions skeptically with a heavily arched brow.

“Yes.”

“With his hands?”

“Yes. He’s scary.”

“Okay, well…” He sighs, “I mean, don’t you just want to replace the neck?”

“No.” I shake my head quickly. “No, no. It has to be all the same parts, all the original parts.”

“Why?” He tosses at me, sounding almost annoyed.

“It was gifted to my,” I hesitate for a split second though I’m not sure why, “to my friend by someone special.” I keep the explanation as vague as possible, not wanting to spill Noah’s family trauma to a stranger. “It just needs to all be the same.”

He looks over the instrument again and sighs, “I’m just not sure it’s possible dude. It’s a pretty bad break. It’s all splinters.”

My heart wants to plummet into my stomach, but I need to keep it afloat.

This isn’t for me, I remind myself.

“Can you just try?” I try to shield the desperation in my voice.

He lets out another heavy sigh looking over the damage once again. “Fine. But I can’t guarantee it’ll be fast. I have other instruments waiting for repair before yours, so it could be weeks, maybe months with how delicate of a process it’s going to be.”

“That’s fine. Just um, call me? Whenever you have an opening?”

“You got it man.” He nods.

While Jolly packs the guitar away I decide to peruse the rows of vinyl records in the shop. They’re all stored in wooden crates and alphabetized by artist. Half of the records were brand new while the other half were old and worn. My fingers flip through the thin sleeves looking for anything that catches my attention. I find a Deftones album I’d been missing, Diamond Eyes, the one with the white owl, and set it up front with Jolly to purchase before I leave.

After making it through the maze of records, I find myself in the area that was most interesting last time. I step into the sectioned off area that showcases all of the repaired and refurbished instruments available for purchase. I must’ve been more obvious with my admiration that I thought because Jolly spoke up from his nearby desk.

“You can touch them, try them out if you’d like.”

“Oh.” I reply softly and let my eyes land on the teal bass I was looking at. “Thanks.”

I precariously pick it up from its stand and sit on a stool beside it. I began just plucking a few cords, tuning the strings here and there before flowing into one of my favorite songs from the album I just set aside, CMND/CRTL.

“You’re pretty good.” Speaks Jolly from behind me, leaning on the dividing archway.

“Oh, thanks.” I feel my cheeks warm from the compliment.

“You in a band or anything?” He questions.

“Oh, no, I mean not really.” I laugh and shake my head at the idea of seriously being in a band. “Me and my two friends joke about starting a band all the time. We play all together sometimes but it’s just for fun.”

“Hm.” He hums, see-sawing his pen between his pointer and middle fingers. “Your lead singer plays guitar?”

“No – I mean, he does. He’s the one that owns the guitar.” I point back to the front desk where we spoke about the broken instrument. “But for the vocals he would want to do, it’s not really feasible for him to play guitar at the same time.”

“Well, what kind of vocals would he be doing?”

“I don’t know, screamy stuff, metal?”

“I see.” He sets the pen branded with the business’ logo down. “If you guys ever get serious and need a guitarist, let me know.”

“Noted.” I nod.

I sit with his words lingering in the back of my head. Starting a band was always something we kinda joked about but never committed to. Folio and I were down but it was always Noah who held back, not thinking he was talented enough to be a singer. He swore up and down that he didn’t want to be a frontman, never wanted the spotlight. So, we suggested finding a different singer all together, to which Noah was extremely against. Letting strangers in was never his forte - well, I guess until now, with all his new college friends.

The thought stayed with me entire drive home. If we ever gave it a shot, would it get anywhere?

I decide to tuck that pipe dream away in the back of my mind when I open my bedroom door and find it still vacant.

I can’t convince Noah to start a band if he’s not fucking here.

My eyes softly crack open to a sound my sleepy brain hasn’t processed yet. Once my ears acclimate and recognize the noise, I nearly jolt up straight from where I laid. I scramble to find the rattling that echoes from my phone resting on my nightstand. Noah’s name flashes across the screen and the panic I had just felt is quickly replaced with annoyance. I roll my eyes and slide the answer bar across the bottom of the screen.

“What do you want, Noah?” I ask with a sleepy grumble evident in my tone.

“N…Nicky?” Speaks an unsure, hesitant voice from the other end, one that isn’t Noah.

My brows furrow and my spine straightens sharply, now fully alert. “…Yes? Who is this and where is Noah?”

“It’s Kassidy.” The voice replies, and if it weren’t for the audible shake in her tone, I’d be irritated all over again. “Something um-“ Her voice cracks like she’s on the verge of tears, “Something’s happening to Noah? And I… I’m not really sure what but, I don’t know what to do.”

I let out a sigh and let my eyes close with the exhale. It’s only when both ends of our phone call are silent that I can hear familiar ear-splitting screams in the background.

“That’s him screaming?” I ask even though I know the answer. I lift my head and shake it vigorously to wake me up some more. “Okay, um.” It had been a couple weeks since Noah’s last night terror and each one has been different so, it’s difficult to navigate it without being there. “Usually, I just get on top of him and hold down his limbs as best I can so that he doesn’t hurt himself.”

I hate seeing him like that, it always looks like he’s in so much pain, like some demon’s got a hold of his soul. Hearing it is not much different.

“Okay.” She replies in a slight panic. I hear a shuffle on her end followed by an audible struggle – grunts and hisses from Kassidy who is sure as fuck not strong enough to get him down alone.

“Fuck.” I mumble to myself, pulling the skin of my forehead into a peak to relieve the stress growing behind it. I try my best to ignore the way my heart has been accelerating every minute since I answered the call.

Finally, I hear her voice on the other end, this time from further away like she put me on speaker. “Okay.” She pants, “What now?”

“I just call his name until he wakes up.” I shrug defeatedly. “But don’t cover his mouth.” I can hear that his screams have quieted a bit and hope that it wasn’t from her trying to stifle him.

The sound of her calling his name over and over in fear and desperation wasn’t something I was prepared to hear. It’s one thing to be the person doing it, but a whole other thing having to hear someone else’s attempt. While it was painful to listen to, it also settled a weird swirl in the bottom of my stomach. She’s doing my job.

Suddenly everything stopped – her calling and his screaming, he must’ve woken up.

There’s a silence on the other end that is near deafening, almost ominous. The seconds feel like hours until the phone is picked up again.

“I think you need to come get him.” Kassidy says, sounding absolutely lost and horrified.

“On my way.”

I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when Kassidy led me to her room. Maybe I thought he’d just be sitting there, ready to go home or pacing, but that was far from what I walked into.

My eyes first land on her bed, empty and disheveled, evidently where everything had occured. My brows furrow at the discovery and it only takes a quick scan of the bedroom to find him curled up in the corner of her room.

What the fuck?

In the couple times he’s had night terrors since he’s moved in have never ended up with him like this. I carefully make my way over to him and crouch down beside him. Hesitantly, I place a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Noah?” I whisper.

A tiny sniffle comes from him but not much else. I test the waters and place both hands on him and when he doesn’t react, I use my strength to turn him around. Again, what I expected is not what I got. I anticipated him to be crying, usually after a night terror he cries but not this time, at least not anymore. His eyes look puffy as if he’d been crying but they’re mostly dry now. His arms are tucked tightly around his torso and his knees almost up to his shoulders. His dark brown eyes are blown wide and staring right past me into the darkness of the room. His eyelids barely close and his breathing is still heavy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’d seen a ghost.

I figured that once he saw that it was me, he’d react in some way – maybe positive that I showed up, or maybe negative that I interrupted his time with Kassidy, but it was neither… it was nothing. As if he didn’t realize I was even there. When my eyes trailed back to Kassidy, I noticed that I don’t think he realized that she was there either. Or, if he was aware of our presence, it meant little importance to him in whatever weird state he was stuck in.

“Did he have anything to drink?” I ask Kassidy and it unintentionally comes out with an accusatory edge.

She chews on her thumbnail as she looks upon the scene and shakes her head.

“Smoke?” I press, bringing myself back up to my feet.

She shakes her head again, “We just watched a movie and fell asleep.” She states simply. “I-I don’t know what happened… is he okay?”

My eyes flutter to the ground then over to my shivering best friend. “I don’t know.” I breathe out truthfully. Something then crosses my mind that I hadn’t quite thought of until now. I turn my head back towards the blonde, “How did you know to call me?”

She shrugs, “You were his emergency contact.”

A train feels like it rushes through my chest at her words, blowing hot steam through my ribs. Emergency contact. Out of all people, he chose me. I guess in the grand scheme of things, it makes sense for it to be me I just… never imagined it would be. I never thought that I’d be the one he’d trust the most. At 19 being an emergency contact seems strange, unnatural. What 19 year old is at all prepared to be an emergency contact?

I want to say that he made the wrong choice, that I’m not reliable or qualified enough but, I know I’m the only one who’d show up.

I crouch back down to him. “Okay Noah, I’m gonna take you home now.” I speak to him like a child since I’m not sure exactly what he’s able to comprehend at the moment but I just need to get him out of this stupid sorority house.

“Home.” Is the only thing that leaves his mouth with his eyes still focused on something distant on the ground.

“Yeah, let’s get you home.” I nod and choose not to make a big deal out of him finally speaking.

I hook my arms beneath his shoulders and use all my strength to yank him to his feet. I hook my arm around him and help him walk out of the house. It’s slow and robotic, like maybe he is still asleep.

Kassidy looks like she wants to help, wants to do more but she doesn’t know how. She watches from the steps, gnawing on her thumbnail as I help him into the passenger seat. I snap his seatbelt into place and close the door.

“Here.” Kassidy hands me a grocery bag full of his belongings. “This is what he brought with him.”

“Thanks.” A sharp pain slices through my stomach as I take the bag from her, knowing that this is all he took in a rush from our house. A person watered down to just a bag full of clothes. “It’s a good thing you called me. I’ve never seen him like this.”

She nods, looking past me to the car, her own blue eyes red and puffy. “I’m glad you answered. I didn’t expect his emergency contact to be you, but I’m not surprised.”

My head tilts at her words slightly, “What do you mean?”

She shrugs and tucks a chunk of blonde hair behind her ear. “He talks about you a lot.” Her eyes finally trail back to meet mine. There’s something cloudy in them that feels hesitant as though she has more to say.

My eyes flicker at her statement. “He does?”

She sniffles a laugh, congestion still settled in her nose from her sobs. “Yeah, he kinda doesn’t shut up about you.” Her arms fold over each other for warmth as the night rolls in a chill. “He must really love you.”

It’s a simple statement. And not one that we’ve never said before. We’ve said I love you to each other since we were 11. He says I love you to my mom and to Stella. Love was never a question in my home when it came to Noah. But for some reason her words feel like a kitchen knife sawing through my intestines. It feels different now. After 8 years, how can the same 3 words feel so different?

I press my lips together and nod. “We’re very close, yes.”

“You’re very lucky to have his trust.” She says with a hint of sadness in her tone. He hasn’t shared much with me about his relationship with her, but it makes me wonder how much he’s letting her in; from her words, it doesn’t sound like much.

“I am.” I take a step back and thumb over my shoulder. “I should get him home now.”

She nods. “Text me when you guys get home? So I know he’s safe.”

“I will.”

When I round the car to the driver’s side, I feel something loosely moving around in the plastic bag as I walk with it. I open the bag to see a small, stuffed orange cat. It looks identical to the cat keychain he’d left me from the fair, except his was light orange with darker orange stripes. They must’ve been a pair.

A burning fills my eyes and I squeeze them tight in an attempt to halt any tears that threaten to escape. I don’t have time to cry right now, I need to get him home.

An ache swells in my chest, one that never seems to leave these days, and I can’t help but question when everything became so hard with us. Why does everything hurt so much all the fucking time now.

My fingers tap on the cracking leather of my steering wheel. The streetlights burn my irises and remind me just how heavy my under eyes are. I glance over at Noah, who’s curled up in the passenger seat turned away from me. His lanky legs are tucked tight against his chest and his thin arms keep them locked in place. His head rests on the door with his gaze set on the passing trees.

Why is this terror so different?

I’ve been battling with myself for the past 10 minutes on what to say to him, how to ask him what happened without causing any further damage.

“Noah?” I watch him for any movement, there is none. “Do you wanna…talk about anything?”

No response.

“Well, are you hungry? We could stop and get you something?”

No response.

“Do you want me to put on some music?”

No response.

I think hard about my next question because I’m not sure it’s the best choice and I don’t want to upset him any further, but it’s the only thing I can imagine that would make this time different than the rest.

“Noah,” I hesitate, “What did you see in your nightmare?”

His body tenses slightly, and while he hasn’t done or said anything yet, the energy in the car shifts. I feel a chill roll down my back and a pit in my throat that reminds me of being a child caught in a lie.

Noah never talked about his nightmares or what happened in them, and I never asked. Maybe I should’ve started asking sooner.

There’s a long pause, long enough to make me think he wasn’t going to reply and to let me focus on the road again.

Then out of nowhere, his voice cuts through the silence like a guillotine.

“Mom.”

My eyes widen and I swear I felt my heart stop beating for just a second. A deafening silence falls over the car, for a second I can’t even hear my obnoxiously loud engine.

Despite being as close as we are, I barely know anything about Noah’s family, especially his mom. I always had a vague picture of what his family structure looked like, but it was never something he spoke about, and I was rarely invited over. I knew something was wrong with his mom for a long time, something medical maybe. I remember Noah periodically canceling plans on weekends and skipping school because his mom was in the hospital for one thing or another. Maybe he mentioned something at the time, but I can’t remember specifics now.

When she passed, it was a shock. It was clear that whatever mystery illness that was landing her in hospitals wasn’t expected to kill her. The night she died was the only time I ever saw Noah grieve. He showed up to my house a disheveled, broken mess, as anyone would be after losing their mother. He sobbed in my bed until he fell asleep but when I awoke the next morning, he was gone. One week. He was gone for one week. Radio silent, not online, not answering phone calls or texts and absent from school. When he returned, it was like nothing had happened. He was perfectly normal.

I bite down hard on my bottom lip and feel regret coursing through my veins.

“I’m sorry.”

Getting Noah into my house was about as easy as getting him out of the sorority house. Though, he seemed magnetized to the bed, as if laying in it would take all of this away.

I let him collapse onto the mattress while I set my keys on my dresser drawer and support my weight on my palms against the cold wood top. I let out a deep sigh, trying to expel any heaviness weighing in my lungs.

Within minutes I hear small noises I’ve come to recognize as the sounds of Noah sleeping. Knowing that he’s asleep eases my anxiety just a tad, maybe the night will heal whatever battle he waged with his mind tonight.

I strip off my jeans and change into striped sleep pants, and crawl into my designated spot next to him. I lace my fingers over my chest and let my eyes get entranced by my ceiling fan. I watch it spin until I feel my eyelids feel heavier than my body wants to carry and curl myself away from Noah, tugging the duvet to cover my eyes.

For the second time tonight, I’m pulled out of sleep by unexpected noises. This time, they were gentle.

Soft sniffles intrude the silence of the room. I blink sleep from my eyes and rub my right one as I turn towards Noah. His sniffles halt the second he senses my movement.

“Noah?” I ask in a whisper.

No response.

“I know you’re awake.”

He lets out a quiet sigh before turning to lay flat. The moonlight shining through the window highlights the rivers of tears that had been streaming down his face. He quickly uses his arm to wipe them away, “I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Well, I wasn’t, until now.” I lay my head on both my hands in a prayer position looking over at him. I allow the quiet hang in the air for a bit before I speak again. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He sniffles as he goes to respond but chokes and waterworks let loose, his eyes screw shut and squeeze all the salty water out. His whole body shakes and with every sharp inhale I can hear how much pain he’s in.

My hands and arms burn and I’m not sure why, but something in me screams to touch him. So, I reach out and before I even touch the hair on his arm, he rolls into me, burying his drenched face in my chest. His arms wrap around my waist tight, almost cutting off my oxygen but I stay perfectly still. I didn’t expect this, I just meant to hold his arm or something, but here he is latched onto me. It’s more than I was willing to give, but it’s clear it’s what he needs.

I follow what my body tells me to do and wrap my arms around him to pull him closer. His cheap, woodsy body spray fills my nostrils and it’s some sort of silent confirmation that I did the right thing. He feels comfortable in my arms, almost like he’s the perfect size for them. I rub the length of his back, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I reassure as if it would really do anything. “I’m here.” I whisper and rake my fingers through his hair. He seems to like this because his wails soften as I do so.

By the time his sobs taper off, my Star Wars shirt is soaked and it’s quiet, so much so that I think he might’ve fallen asleep. He finally pulls from me and wipes his pink and puffy eyes. “Thanks.” He says sheepishly.

“Of course.”

“And thanks for picking me up.” His voice is quiet and barely audible with his gaze down and away from mine.

“Always.” I reply without a second thought.

“Always?” He looks up at me with big brown eyes that somehow always make me so painfully malleable in his hands.

“Always.” I answer then realize that my fingers are still tangled in his hair, though he doesn’t seem to mind. I get an idea. I recall something that I did the first time he had a terror that seemed to soothe him. “Actually, I’ll make sure you remember.”

His brows furrow at me in confusion as I take a chunk of his hair from the nape of his neck and overlap three silky parts together. “There. Keep a braid in your hair and I’m there with you, always.”

His hand goes up to find the braid I had just woven and rubs it between his fingertips, and my stomach twists at the small smile that forms on his lips. As his fingers trail the length of the braid, his nose scrunches up in curiosity. “Why a braid?” He asks with his head tilted slightly.

I shrug, “I don’t know. It’s intertwined, like us.”

It was the truth. For as long as I can remember, it had always been Noah and me. Noah and I. Wherever I went, he followed, and wherever he went, I was right behind him. Every decision we made involved the other, whether it was choosing complementary Pokémon games so we could trade or picking songs to learn on the guitar so we could play together. We were a duo. A pair. A combo.

A package deal.

He silently blinks at me before reaching out and taking my own hair into his fingers. I still my body as he carefully sections three pieces of my hair and begins to cross them over each other. His actions are slow and intentional like he’s trying to make sure it’s perfect.

“There.” His arms pull back delicately, only to find my hand and guide it to the braid he just made. He presses my fingers into the woven strands. “Always. Like us.” he repeats, like reciting a secret oath, and I nod in agreement.

His eyes trail up from the braid to meet my gaze. He looks so... pretty in the moon's glow, and my eyes don't want to leave his, especially not after what he just swore to me—what we just swore to each other. It's special, no matter how silly it may seem. I brush some stray strands of hair out of his face and gently tuck them behind his ear. His mahogany eyes shift back and forth between mine, like he wants something from me, but I'm not sure what.

In a split second before I can even process what’s happening, every muscle in my body tenses and my eyes widen more than I ever thought possible. Soft, cushion-y lips press into my own and cold hands hesitantly cup my cheeks. It’s only when he pulls away that I realize I haven’t sucked in a breath for what feels like hours. He backs away slightly, his eyes analyzing me like I’m a petri dish under a microscope. His stare darts across my face, as if he’s ran some sort of experiment and is waiting for a result. My cheeks burn hot in embarrassment for what just happened and for being studied so intently. I’m ready to dismiss the encounter entirely, but he’s just staring at me with eyes as wide as saucers.

“Still always?” He asks barely audible. “Even after…?”

“Yes.” I don’t even have to think about it. “Always.” Not even a millisecond after the word leaves my mouth, he joins our lips again.

The kiss is long, slow and sweet but hesitant, fidgety and nervous. My heart races so fast in my chest that I can feel it drumming in my ears, in my throat, in fingertips. All I can think about are his lips, and his hands, and how close his body is to mine. Kissing Noah wasn’t something I ever expected to do or even ever thought about. I never imagined how his lips would feel like on mine, but it surprisingly doesn’t feel…weird. Not as weird as I would’ve probably thought beforehand.

The kiss is sparking and warm, not so much like explosions but more so a crackling fire. It’s comforting, like a physical manifestation of the feeling that comes from being around each other — like the gentle warmth of a shared space that feels safe and familiar. It just feels like an extension of us.

I mirror his position and rest my hand on his cheek which prompts him to lean into the kiss slightly. After a couple more seconds of our lips pressed together, he pulls away. He searches my face the same as he did before, just softer this time, less frantic.

My body reacts to him in ways I never expected, like the way my thumb instinctively brushes gently across his cheekbone. My heart swells the way he leans into my touch.

“I’m sorry about your dreams.” I say quietly.

“I’m sorry for bothering you.” His eyes dip down.

“You never bother me.”

The edges of his mouth curl up in the same way they do when I tell him he’s a good singer when he claims not to be. I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

“I mean it.”

His eyes flicker down to my lips again and linger there. It makes me want to kiss him again but before I even get to move towards him his focus snaps back up to me.

“We should try to sleep.” He says quietly.

I watch him and notice how fidgety he’s gotten and how he can’t look at me anymore.

I press my lips together and nod. “Yeah, it’s late.”

“We have class tomorrow.” He replies, as further cushion to his sudden reasoning to sleep.

“We have class tomorrow.” I repeat, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.

“Yeah.” He whispers, barely audible. “Goodnight Nicky.” His chestnut eyes flicker back up at me.

“Goodnight Noah.”

He gives me a tight-lipped smile before flipping away from me. I let out a silent exhale I didn’t know I was holding and let myself return to my original sleeping position facing the window beside the bed.

A part of me – a large part of me - doesn’t want the night to be over yet. Maybe this is just a dream I don’t want to wake up from, because like in a dream – nothing makes any sense yet feels so normal, so right. Waking up means having to make sense of something that maybe we should forget… but I don’t think I want to forget.

It’s only after I settle in under the covers and am on the brink of sleep that my heart suddenly drops to my stomach. My eyes fly open only to be met with darkness.

I kissed my best friend and didn’t hate it.

I kissed my best friend,

And I liked it.

Shit.

Taglist; @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm

@bspeaks @sorrowsofsilence @wwemademegayer

A/N; Hope you guys enjoyed this one 🩷Thank you for the support on this series and on all my other works. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

#noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #noah x nick

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whitedarkmoonflower · 5 months ago

Text

The Curse

Pairing: Sihtric x Skade

Authors note: this story is for you my dear @alexagirlie and @thenameswinter99 I know Skade is not the most popular character and there probably won't be many readers to this fic but I loved her and I think she deserved better. So this is my attempt at giving her a happy ending.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, angst, mention of blood, curses, canon death of a character

Summary: as Uhtred's path crosses with the mighty seer Skade, there is only one way to break the pattern of violence and only one man capable of doing it as the power of love appears stronger than the power of hate

Word Count: 6,8 K 🙈 (I know, I'm sorry)

It was not the chill of the evening air, nor the fresh and cool breeze teasingly brushing its cold fingers against her skin, that made her shudder. She wouldn’t show it anyway. With fists clenched and nails digging into her flesh, her gaze lashed the group of men down the stairs, burning with hatred like a whip striking bare skin.

It was that daunting feeling of utter helplessness, of being tossed and turned by the currents of fate, allowed only a sharp, desperate gasp that seared her aching lungs before being dragged back under the water, that made her stomach clench and her inner core tremble like a candle flame wavering in a draft. But not a muscle shuddered in her pale, sharply defined, beautiful face framed by an unruly swirl of blond hair.

Once again, she was being betrayed and traded, passed from hand to hand like a mere commodity, a piece of silver exchanged for another's safety. In a different life, the naive girl she once was would have cried, bargained for her life and safety, begged not to be given away.

But that Skade no longer existed. She had drowned long ago in a sea of despairing tears, her grave dug by the greed and power-lust of men who saw her as nothing more than a plaything to fulfil their desires, a potion to quench their thirst for influence, a weapon to be used in their conquest for dominion. That small, trusting part of her died, killed by false promises and the realisation that there was no goodness left in those around her.

There had been times when she cursed her gift, praying to the gods to take it back, to release her from its crushing power. She had blamed it for her fate, for the darkness that trailed her, ripping away those she loved and leaving her alone and aching. But that was before. Before she surrendered and accepted the part of herself she had once despised. From the grave of her suffering, a new Skade was born – a proud creature of darkness, leaving a trail of pain and blood in her wake, destined to test those foolish enough to assume power over her, and to punish without remorse those who failed, and she had embraced that destiny fully.

Heasten's ugly smirk and greedy, narrow eyes seemed to undress her with their gaze alone, making every hair on her body stand on end as she raised her head to meet the eyes of the men who dared treat her as a piece of merchandise.

The bearded Irishman's deep brown eyes looked back somewhat sheepishly, as if understanding the absurdity of the bargain struck moments ago. With her head held high, she turned to the young Dane standing on the other side of her.

His cautious mismatched gaze had puzzled her from the very beginning. She had been sure he despised her, anger flickering in the depths of those two pools, as he yanked her hands behind her back and put a gag on her mouth in an attempt to silence her. A coward, she had silently dubbed him. And yet it had been him who brought her fur and a bowl of hot stew on that first night in the dungeon. Why? What did he want from her? What hidden plan lurked behind those large, expressive eyes? What drove him? A yearning for power? Greed? Jealousy?

The annoying sound of the shutters creaking in the wind mixed with desperate cries of some lonely crow, slicing through the insidious calmness of the dark, added another layer of eeriness to the nightly scene. Sihtric could feel Skade’s frame trembling, though she tried to suppress it, to not show it, her words flowing from her full, sensual lips with the certainty of a queen. Yet he perceived it – that hidden inner quiver, the uneven shimmering of her misty breath in the air, her darting eyes like those of a trapped animal, her clenched fists betraying the facade.

Uhtred and his ingenious plans - it was not the first time his lord's peculiar notions of honour and loyalty had brought them perilously close to the great gates of Valhalla. Sihtric did not mind, for it was part of the warrior's path he had willingly chosen when swearing his oath. He would have preferred to fight, to cleave through the Danes, painting the mud beneath his feet with their warm, thick blood. But the choice was made, and the bargain was struck although it didn’t feel right for him.

Skade’s hair tickled Sihtric’s cheek, a fleeting feeling of unexpected softness alerting his already sharpened senses, as she turned her head, voice steady and laced with disdain, addressing Uhtred.

“And you are cursed once more, Uhtred of Bebbanburg and you will wither.”

She was a danger, a venomous snake, her poison deadlier than the sharpest blade, seeping into the minds and souls of those who dared cross her path, twisting their thoughts, corrupting their very essence and bringing out the worst in men. A bringer of madness, a harbinger of chaos – those who underestimated her did so at their own peril. And yet, beneath the all consuming fire in those dazzling blue eyes, there was something fragile, a flicker of vulnerability that captured and didn’t let go of him.

From the moment he first saw her, curses dripping from her lips, Sihtric felt an inexplicable urge to envelop her in the warmth of his embrace, offering a refuge from the darkness that had consumed her soul for too long.

Yet she wanted none of his comfort, her mind fixated on Uhtred from the instant their eyes met. She was a test sent by the gods, Sihtric was certain, and Uhtred was failing it spectacularly.

Skade turned, her burning gaze forcing Sihtric to meet her eyes, and for a fleeting moment the world around him faded into an incoherent blur of sounds and images. "Cowards," her smirk seemed to challenge, or perhaps seek reassurance.

Sihtric longed to speak, but the words froze on his lips, the silent promise in his warm gaze swallowed by the night's darkness. She wanted none of his promises, yet he made one silently to himself - he would find her.

The old wooden steps creaked an eerie, mocking laugh as Skade took her first step down towards Heasten and his men. Unhurried yet unwavering, each measured stride carried her towards her new master and an altered fate, her steady gait betraying the admirable strength of will hidden beneath that fragile and slender frame.

Heasten's extended hand remained frozen in midair, stopped by Skade's icy gaze, as she turned one last time towards the men standing on the top of the stairs. It was that last glance that remained burned into Sihtric’s mind - a warning, a challenge, an unspoken plea all mixed in one single flash of searing vulnerability. For the briefest of moments, her defiant mask slipped, offering him a glimpse of the fragile heart she guarded so fiercely, pleading for someone to finally see the woman beneath the iron shell.

"Sihtric, tell me this. Does Uhtred want me dead?" Skade's voice carried over the crackling fireplace, all eyes suddenly fixing on him.

A chill crept up his spine as he replied, "He's undecided. Can't make up his mind whether to hump you or kill you." The nonchalance in his voice sounded forced even to his own ears. It was the way she looked at him, suspicion sparking in her eyes. Though he may have fooled the men, blinded by ambition and rivalry, he had a feeling neither Brida nor Skade believed him completely. Yet neither woman had spoken against him either.

The atmosphere in the whole camp was more than peculiar, the air was charged with distrust and feuding. The gazes of drunken youngsters, drowning their concerns and boredom in ale, spoke of uncertainty and eagerness for something to happen, while the spirit between the older warriors ranged between cautious and openly disapproving. Ragnar's death had left the Danes completely rudderless, crushing their fighting spirit. And the pathetic pissing contest between Heasten, and Bloodhair only made things only worse.

“And what about you?” Skade continued, her scrutinising gaze not letting go of him.

“What about me?” Sihtric tried to pretend clueless.

“Do you want to hump me or kill me?”

Under the weight of all eyes awaiting his answer, the gentle roar of the fire seemed deafening to Sihtric's ears.

The flickering patterns of light and shadow danced over Skade’s face, making her look like some creature from an old legend. A small burst of sparks erupted from the fresh log as it slowly became engulfed in the blaze, dancing around her like small fading stars.

She is like the fire itself, Sihtric thought, beautiful yet dangerous. Just as the flames could bring warmth and life or rage with destructive force, so too did she radiate a bewitching power that could either ignite a man's deepest passions or reduce him to ashes.

"Would you believe me if I said neither?" Sihtric raised his gaze from the flames to meet hers.

A mocking laugh escaped Skade's lips as disbelief gave way to a strange mix of surprise and puzzlement, her eyes locked with his unwavering stare.

The young warrior was a mystery for her. Men were usually so transparent, easy to read and manipulate, but not him. What had she missed? And why was he here? That warm light dancing in his mismatched eyes whenever she caught his hidden glances - what did it mean? Time would tell. Few emotions drove men in this life, and sooner or later, the pretty boy would show his teeth and bare his true, ugly soul. Of that, she was certain, but her interest was piqued nonetheless.

The rhythmic sound of whetstone gliding over metal was always soothing to Sihtric, helping him gather his thoughts. So engrossed was he in the process that he almost didn't notice the tent flaps flutter open, only raising his head when a shadow obscured the candlelight.

"What the hell..." Sihtric jumped to his feet, sword pointing at the intruder who had snuck up on him, only to be met by the grinning stare of two incredibly blue, deep eyes.

"I came to see if you spoke true today by the fire," Skade's voice was barely above a whisper as she stepped closer, tilting her head back to let the blade graze her exposed skin. Sihtric remained motionless, muscles taut, his eyes tracing her every movement.

"Go on then, do it," she mocked, challenge dancing in the depths of her gaze. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to bed me?" With the tip of her finger, Skade slowly pushed the sword aside and began circling him like a predator stalking prey. "You crave me, I can see it. What are you waiting for? Claim me, if you dare."

Hips swinging, with deliberate slowness she placed one foot before the other as she drew nearer, teasingly biting on her index finger. The sweet fragrance of rose oil hit Sihtric’s nostrils, his breath hitching involuntary as his grip on the sword’s hilt loosened. Lowering the blade, he let it slip from his grasp to poke the ground.

"What do you want from me?" Sihtric’s voice came out all dry and gravelly.

“Tell me, what is it you desire?” Skade purred, trailing her fingers up his chest to toy with the neckline of his armour. “Power? Wealth? Reputation? Do you wish to be the King of all Danes? Are you strong enough to own me?” her thumb brushed his lips as she looked up at him through the thickness of her lashes.

“There is nothing I cannot give you, but you must choose your path now,” the strange gleam in Skade’s eyes was hypnotic, her voice a lullabying sough, washing against Sihtric’s heightened senses. For a second he forgot about everything – his mission, his lord, his oath, his friends – it all faded away, leaving just the two of them trapped in whatever spell she was weaving.

Was it the gentle whisper of the evening breeze against his skin, slipping through the half-closed tent flaps and extinguishing the flickering candles? Or was it that strange inner voice that had saved his life on the battlefield countless times, warning him of impending danger? Sihtric couldn’t tell for certain, but a profound sense of presence enveloped him, an ineffable and tender force that broke through the veil of magic surrounding them and made him see her again – that scared little girl who had looked at him from behind those guarded eyes on that first night in the dungeon when he brought her a blanket and a steaming bowl of stew.

It had been just a fleeting glimpse, but he knew she was there, buried beneath layers of hatred and spite. This was the Skade he longed to pull closer, to embrace, to shield from the demons that haunted her. This was the Skade he reached out for as eyes radiating warmth he leaned in closer, and with a deep, rumbling sigh pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was achingly tender, his lips brushing against hers with the delicacy of a butterfly's wings. Sihtric's calloused fingers cradled her face with a featherlight touch, as if she were a fragile flower that might wither under firmer pressure. His mouth moved against hers in a slow, reverent dance, savouring every sensation without demanding or taking. It was a kiss born of pure affection, free of any desire to claim or possess.

Gradually, the kiss deepened, but the tenderness remained. Sihtric's tongue teased along the seam of Skade's lips, seeking entry, and when she parted them with a soft whimper, he tasted her fully – a sweet, intoxicating blend of innocence and longing. His kiss was worshipful, reverent, treating her like the most precious and delicate of treasures. It was the sweetest and breathtaking kiss that had ever touched Skade's lips, leaving her quenched and thirsting for more all at once.

A soft moan escaped her lips as Sihtric pulled away, his palm resting on her neck, and he tugged her back until their foreheads touched. "I don't want to possess you or demand anything from you," Sihtric murmured, slowly withdrawing himself from her space. "I'm not playing those games of yours. I simply want to know you, the real you." His tone was soft but resolute.

Skade tilted her head to the side, her large, inquisitive eyes scrutinising Sihtric's face, searching for deception, a trap, the real reason behind his withdrawal. The longer his gaze remained steady, locked with hers, the more she felt anger coil in the pit of her stomach. How dare he think he could understand her? How dare he reject her under the pretence of caring?

A wry, mocking laugh tore from Skade's throat as her beautiful face contorted with fury, anger replacing the lingering warmth that had blossomed within her from Sihtric's kiss. He kept his distance, unmoving, and the icy rage of a spurned woman flooded her veins.

"You have chosen your path, Sihtric Kjartansson," the words left her mouth like arrows unleashed from a taut bowstring, meant to pierce and maim. "And you have chosen doom. You are cursed from this moment on, just as your former lord is cursed. Your life belongs to me now." Her voice grew louder, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, as she fought back tears—a crack in her defences she could not afford to reveal to anyone.

Sihtric's kiss had awakened something she thought long dead and buried—her hopes, her dreams of another life. A life where love's tender caresses might have a place. A life she had convinced herself she no longer wanted nor needed.

"What have I done to deserve your wrath?" Sihtric's simple question just intensified the fury burning within her.

"It's not about what you've done," Skade spat venomously, her voice quivering with shame and embarrassment. She couldn't admit, even to herself, the depth of the scars Sihtric's gentle kiss had reopened, scorching her soul and ravaging her heart. "It's about what you inevitably would do, what men always do. Traitors, cowards, cravens—you are either too weak to accept me or you use me for your purposes, only to discard me once the tide turns. No one has ever cared for me. Don’t pretend you do."

With those last, searing words, she whirled around and stormed out of the tent, fleeing Sihtric’s unblinking gaze.

Skade could barely recall how she stumbled back to her tent. Her vision blurred with tears she could no longer suppress, Skade collapsed to her knees, a soul-wrenching cry ripping through her. Her trembling fingers brushed against her lips, desperately trying to summon the memory of Sihtric's kiss—the tender touch of his mouth on hers, his uneven breath mingling with her own, the slight tremor in his fingers as they caressed her cheek, betraying his own nervousness. That feather-light, gentle touch had burned her to the very core, shattering the unyielding walls she had built around her heart, leaving her defenceless and raw.

Skade's chest heaved with sobs. She had convinced herself that she needed no one, that she was untouchable. Yet, here she was, brought to her knees by the simple, honest touch of a man who had dared to reach out to her. The gentle caress that had felt like a promise of something more now felt like a cruel reminder of what she could never have.

As the tears streamed down her face, she realised that the walls she had built were not just a defence against the world, but a prison that had kept her from feeling anything real. And now, with those walls in ruins, she was left to face the raw, aching truth of her loneliness and desire.

The clash of steel and the savage, earsplitting roars of the combatants filled the air, drawing an ever-growing crowd of spectators to the makeshift square at the camp's centre. The Norns, those inexorable weavers of fate, seemed to favour Bloodhair. With a deft manoeuvre, he disarmed Haesten, and the thunderous crash of Bloodhair's war axe against Haesten's splintering shield reverberated through the assembled throng.

At that very moment, as Bloodhair raised his axe to deliver the deathblow, the scales of destiny tipped with cruel inevitability. Sihtric's eyes locked onto the fearful, bewildered expression contorting Bloodhair's face. The mighty warrior's body seemed to betray him, refusing to obey his commands. Following Bloodhair's stricken gaze, Sihtric's eyes fell upon Skade.

With a beastly roar, Bloodhair swung his axe again, but realisation struck him like a dagger to the heart—the battle was inexplicably, irrevocably lost. He could do nothing but attempt to drag the source of his downfall into death with him. But Skade was faster.

Her knives shimmered in the air, winking maliciously before burying themselves in Bloodhair's flesh. Blood splattered Skade's hands in crimson droplets as she watched the warlord's body crumple to the ground and a satisfied smile curled her lips.

It was late when Sihtric finally returned to camp, having used the ensuing chaos to slip away unnoticed. He paused outside his tent, listening to the sounds of the encroaching night. It was quiet, even too quiet, the usual raucous laughter and drunken banter around the fire pits conspicuously absent. Bloodhair’s death so soon after Ragnar’s had hit the Danes hard again.

"They all want me dead," a voice greeted Sihtric from the corner of his tent, and even if he shuddered innerly, he didn’t dare to show it.

"I'm not surprised," he responded, slowly removing his heavy fur cloak and draping it over a bench. Turning, he faced Skade, sitting on the layer of furs that served as his bed, arms wrapped around her legs with knees pulled up and chin resting on them.

Sihtric lit a few candles, and their flickering light danced over Skade's face. He carefully approached her, stopping just before her small, crouched form on the ground, his well-built frame towering over her. Skade looked up at Sihtric, but quickly averted her gaze. Or did it merely appear that way? Had something truly changed in the way she regarded him?

Sihtric slowly crouched down before her. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Defiance suddenly tainted Skade's voice.

"Why did you kill Bloodhair?"

"He wanted to kill me. Everybody saw that, he swung his axe at me." Sihtric could sense her body tensing again, the protective veil of anger and resentment clouding her beautiful blue eyes.

"I'm not judging you. I just want to know. You poisoned him, didn't you?" Sihtric was certain of his guess. There was no other rational explanation for what he had witnessed.

Slowly, he extended his hand, carefully brushing a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. Skade flinched at his touch, her breathing quickening, but she didn't attempt to avoid it as her gaze fell and fixated on the uneven ground before her feet.

"He deserved that," she finally spoke, her voice hoarse and lacking its usual mocking hardness.

Sihtric waited, keeping his eyes on Skade. The remarkable change in her demeanour both puzzled and filled him with hope. He didn't want to push her, but he couldn't shake the strange feeling that this was precisely what she had come for – to tell her side of the story.

Lowering himself to the ground, levelling with her, he began as the silence stretched, "You know I've never left Uhtred's service." He knew she didn't truly trust him, so offering her leverage might help. "You're too smart to believe that fairy tale of mine. Uhtred is here. He's come to claim you back, just as he promised."

Skade raised her head, eyes locking with Sihtric's for a fleeting moment before turning back to the ground, her gaze strangely empty.

"Winter was closing in," she said, her voice trembling as she tightened her arms around her knees, as if trying to hold herself together. "The harvest yielded little due to the unrelenting drought. Then the priests arrived with soldiers, taking half our meagre stores as tithes to the church and king. Father protested that as Danes we owed no dues to the church, but they would not listen. What remained could never nourish five hungry mouths."

Skade fell silent, but Sihtric patiently awaited her words.

"The slaver must have paid a hefty sum. At first, I didn't understand mom's reddened, tear-filled eyes when she pressed a small bundle of bread and cheese into my hands. It was my own father who took my hand and led me to that man, telling me to be a good girl and obey him. Only when father's hand opened to accept a weighty purse of silver did I grasp that this journey would never take me home again."

Sihtric rose to his knees and slowly crawled nearer until he settled on the furs beside Skade. He ached to enfold her in his arms, to draw her close, but hesitated, not knowing whether his solace was welcome.

"Can you...hold me?" Skade's whisper was barely audible, her gaze still fixed on the ground before her feet.

Cautiously, Sihtric slid his arms around her shoulders, pulling her slightly trembling form against him. To his surprise, she leaned into his embrace, resting her head against his chest as her eyes slipped closed.

"Is this alright?" he murmured, lips grazing her hair.

"Yes," she breathed out, the word a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

There was something so calming, so innocent and pure in the way he held her. His embrace, firm and unwavering, grounded her, his heartbeat beneath her ear setting a new steady pace for her own racing heart. The warmth of his body gradually seeped into her chilled skin as the taut tension in her muscles yielded to a soothing lassitude.

"The next stop was a Danish settlement, where Bloodhair noticed me...and I was sold again." Skade's voice drifted away to a near-whisper. "It was there that I learned to curse each new dawn I awoke, not yet granted death's release. Half a year later, my first vision came," she continued. "I saw his brother and right hand crushed beneath a falling tree, so vividly, as if I were there. I told Bloodhair, but he only laughed. Three days later, a huge storm ambushed the scouting troop in the woods, and it transpired exactly as I had seen. I went to sleep as a pleasure slave and woke up as a seer."

Sihtric tightened his embrace, pulling her deeper into the protective circle of his arms. His calloused fingers began gently carding through her hair, stroking the unruly strands into soft waves.

With each soothing caress, he could feel the rigid tension slowly ebbing from her slight frame. Her breathing deepened and steadied against his chest and Skade melted further into his solid warmth.

Sihtric continued the tender ministrations, he mapped the contours of her face with feather-light trails of his fingertips - the delicate sweep of her brow, the curve of her cheekbone, the line of her jaw. Reverently, he smoothed away the worry lines etched around her eyes and mouth, as if he could wipe away the years of suffering with loving strokes.

"I'm scared, Sihtric," she said softly, her voice catching. "I have fulfilled my oath, I have revenged myself. The only purpose that kept driving me, that kept me alive, is gone."

Sihtric was silent for a long moment, holding her close as he gathered his thoughts. "There is so much more to this life than revenge," he murmured finally. "If only you would let me, I could show you. If only you could believe me, if only for a little while."

His motions slowed but did not cease, a silent promise to stay at her side for as long as she would allow. Sihtric planted a tender kiss to the crown of her head, then simply held her, letting the profound silence envelop them.

The solitary tree at the far end of the camp greeted them with outstretched branches like giant arms casting eerie shadows across the moonlit ground. Skade's gaze found him from afar - Uhtred, his broad frame leaning against the ancient trunk, waiting for her arrival.

She released Sihtric's hand, her steps measured and unhurried as ever. Yet she could not resist a backward glance, seeking reassurance in the tender warmth of his eyes. Something had indelibly shifted; her heart stuttered wildly in her breast, a hummingbird trapped behind bone.

Uhtred stepped towards her, one arm extending in mute invitation to draw her into his embrace. "I'm ready," he murmured, a wan smile ghosting across his lips though it failed to reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry..." Skade's voice emerged softened, lacking its usual steely edge. "But I'm not."

Bewilderment creased Uhtred's brow as his arm dropped limply to his side. "What do you mean?"

Meeting his stare unflinchingly, Skade replied with a melancholic smile, "You were never cursed, Uhtred of Bebbanburg. I wanted you to believe it, and like most men, you were easy to deceive." She shook her head slowly. "This is your life, shaped by your choices alone. You must learn to shoulder the weight of that responsibility, and it is no light load. It is always easier to blame others - a curse or the whims of gods."

Uhtred's face slowly contorted in rage. "You lied to me all this time?" he snarled, grabbing Skade's arm in a forceful grip and pulling her closer.

Sihtric watched the scene unfold with rising concern, jealousy coiling like a venomous snake around his pounding heart, sinking its fangs into vulnerable flesh. Had her vulnerability meant nothing? Was it merely a fleeting moment to be forgotten and cast aside at the first glimpse of a new prospect?

Uhtred did not love her; he despised her, feared her - of that, Sihtric was certain. And yet there she stood, smiling up at the man, allowing herself to be drawn into his embrace. Sihtric's jaw clenched as he wrenched his gaze away, struggling to maintain an impassive front.

"I merely told you what you wanted to hear, Lord," Skade said evenly, resolutely freeing her arm from Uhtred's grasp. "I'm sorry, but I have found a greater man to follow. Someone who does not fear who I am, someone who truly cares for me."

"Who? Haesten?" Uhtred's jaw went slack with disbelief that the woman he had risked everything to retrieve could choose someone as despicable over him.

"Sihtric, Lord," Skade corrected with a soft smile. She took a resolute step back, then another before turning to where Sihtric stood, chewing his lips bloody. His eyes widened as she approached, pausing before him to extend her arm. He could not help but reach out hastily, grasping her outstretched hand in his calloused palms and drawing her nearer.

"Show me," she said softly, averting her gaze in insecurity. "Please, show me that other life. Life beyond revenge and hurt."

Slowly, he reached up to tilt her chin towards him, thumb hovering over her lips as if struggling to believe the words that had left them.

"He is here! Uhtred is here!" A shout pierced the night's silence, and Sihtric's grip tightened around Skade's hand.

"Sihtric!" Uhtred's stern voice gave him pause.

"Lord, she is with me," Sihtric stated firmly, meeting his lord's gaze without a hint of hesitation as his hand cradled Skade's like the most precious treasure and in the next moment, they were propelled into frantic motion, running towards the boats.

The first rays of the rising sun streamed through the window, casting the small room in a tender glow of orange and blue. The bed's gentle creak elicited a soft giggle from Skade, the only sound breaking the serene silence that enveloped them.

Her head nestled on Sihtric’s bare chest, she listened to the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Her fingers traced lazy circles over his abdomen, while his rough hand drew slow, deliberate patterns on her back, sending delightful shivers through her. Even if a horde of Danes were to storm into the room this very moment, she wouldn't notice; every fibre of her being was absorbed in the profound sense of peace.

Their forms pressed together, skin against skin, she welcomed the warmth of Sihtric’s body, letting it seep into her bones and dissolve any lingering chill.

“Am I still cursed?” Sihtric asked with a playful chuckle, his hand never pausing in its gentle caress of her back.

“You know you never were,” Skade replied, her voice dreamy and soft.

“But what if I don’t mind?” he teased. “What if I want my life to belong to you?” His tone grew serious, and Skade raised her head to meet his gaze. His eyes, one blue and one brown, held a warmth that had captivated her from the moment they first met.

Slowly, she draped her leg over his waist, encircling him with her thighs as she shifted to prop her head on her elbow. Sihtric reached for her other hand, bringing it to his lips to place tender kisses on her palm. The combination of his soft kisses and the gentle strokes of his fingers against her back filled her with a lightness that seemed to lift her soul.

The gentle sunlight grew warmer, and the room seemed to breathe with the slow rhythm of their embrace. Skade sighed contentedly, letting her head fall back onto Sihtric’s chest.

“You make me forget there’s a world beyond these walls,” Sihtric murmured, his voice a soothing rumble that vibrated through his chest. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Maybe that’s because, right now, there is no world beyond these walls,” she whispered back, her eyes half-closed, basking in the feeling of his hand on her skin.

Skade leaned in, letting her tongue savour the salty tang of Sihtric’s skin. She grazed his waistline with soft, teasing kisses, her lips and teeth exploring the terrain of his body. She moved upward, her warm breath fanning over his skin as she kissed her way to his chest. The hot sensation of her firm tongue circling his nipple, followed by a gentle nibble, drew a sharp hiss from Sihtric. His fingers involuntarily dug deeper into her soft flesh, a mix of pleasure and need rippling through him.

Sihtric’s hands glided down her spine, over the curve of her buttocks, and along her upper thighs, their hold tightening as he pulled her on top of him, legs on each side of his body to straddle his lap. A soft yet needy moan escaped Skade’s lips, feeling his hardening cock pressing against her core.

Her fingers trailed up his chest with a delicate touch until her hands rested on his broad shoulders. She leaned in closer and ran her fingers through his hair, her touch as light as a whisper.

Sihtric’s calloused fingertips grazed the skin of her arms, further up over her shoulders until his hand rested on her neck. He pulled her closer and his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss. This wasn't the achingly tender caress from before that had melted her resistance and crumbled her walls of protection. This kiss was hungry, passionate, a clash of wills and wants. Sihtric's tongue delved past her parted lips, tasting her, claiming her. His large hands slid into her hair, angling her head as he deepened the kiss with a low groan rumbling from his chest.

Skade melted against him, her nails digging into his shoulders as if he were the only thing anchoring her. She met his passion with her own, teeth nipping at his lower lip, her tongue dancing with his in a heady duel, fanning the heat kindling in the pit of her belly to a searing flame. Wetness pooled between her legs, as her hardened nipples brushed against Sihtric’s chest.

Hesitantly, unwillingly their lips let go of each other, chests heaving, and she buried her face in the curve of Sihtric’s neck, teeth scraping his skin, nipping and sucking marks on his sensitive flesh, sending a delightful shiver through Sihtric’s body.

Sihtric let his hands wander down her spine, teasing sensual strokes tickling her skin before he gripped her hips and urged her down against his crotch. Low groan rumbled through him at the feeling of Skade’s hot and dripping core sliding over his length, covering it with her slick.

Skade’s slender fingers traced the lines of his face with her fingertips, memorising every curve, every angle. "I was so lost before I met you," she breathed, rolling her hips against his, a breathy moan leaving her lips as Sihtric’s cock brushed against her perl. "Wandering through life like a ghost, haunted by my past. But you... you brought me back to life."

Sihtric looked at her, a gleam in his mismatched eyes, his hands cupping her breasts, eliciting another moan from Skade as his lips wrapped around her nipple, suckling on it gently at first. She moaned loudly and, feeling her body responding, he sucked harder, breathing in the floral aroma of her skin mingled with the salty scent of sweat.

Sihtric’s lips were warm and inviting, the pink of his tongue gliding teasingly over her nipples as he tasted her. Skade’s hips started to move faster, needy moans and hisses rolling over her lips.

She trembled, feeling arousal and pleasure building up in her with each lap of Sihtric’s tongue, each move of her hips, brushing her sensitive bundle against Sihtric’s fully hard and weeping cock, coating it with her wetness.

Sihtric moaned in pleasure, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He was burning with desire, but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel as if she didn’t have the choice but to give herself to him. He wanted it to be trully her decision.

Skade felt her core starting to throb with a greedy need to feel him inside her. The way he surrendered himself to her touch, giving her the choice, letting her determine what will happen next, made her want him, desire clouding her mind, yet she hesitated, a strange fear lingering in the back of her mind, a remnant from her past.

"I'm choosing you. All of you – the pain, the rage, the softness, the yearning. I want to know every part of you, if you'll let me," Sihtric’s voice was raw, thick with a mix of lust and longing. His eyes fluttered open, locking his gaze with Skade’s. “Will you let me? Will you have me?” he asked, the earnestness in his voice the final weight tipping the scales.

Skade’s hand travelled down between them, aligning Sihtric’s cock with her cunt. A heavy sigh quivering in her chest she slowly sank down, taking in the whole length of him, savouring every inch of his thick and long cock filling and stretching her. They both moaned heavily as her hips met Sihtric’s, and he was finally fully sheathed within her.

Sihtric remained still, his hands on her hips and his large, tender eyes studying Skade’s face.

She felt her walls adjusting to Sihtric’s cock, embracing him and pulsing in arousal as she started to move. Sihtric groaned in pleasure, his hands grabbing tighter her hips.

Palms pressed against Sihtric’s chest, Skade steadied herself, the grounding feeling of his warm and slightly sweaty skin filling her with a strange feeling of elation. She fastened her movements, snapping her hips against his pelvis, and soon the air was filled with heavy whines and moans, rolling over their parted lips.

Sihtric’s hands landed on her buttocks, holding them in a firm grip, as he started to thrust his hips up against her, his movements growing faster and deeper with each thrust as her back arched and her nails dug in Sihtric’s flesh, leaving marks in their wake.

Skade didn’t expect her climax to build up so quickly, but there was no escape from the pleasure building up within her with increasing speed, her walls spasming and clenching stronger and stronger with each thrust, delight infiltrating every cell of her body.

“Oh, Sihtric, I’m so close …” she whined, supporting herself by grabbing the edge of the headboard, her knuckles turning white from the restraint.

“Don’t fight against it, let it go. I got you,” Sihtric whispered.

“Oh gods,” a loud moan ripped through her trembling body as Sihtric licked his fingers and reached between them, placing his thumb at her sensitive perl and starting to move around it, putting just the right pressure to make her breath catch in her chest.

For the first time in her life, Skade felt ready and willing to let go, to surrender control and entrust herself to Sihtric’s gentle yet passionate touch. His hot, heavy breath teased her skin, leaving her trembling and aching with desire—craving more—more of his kisses, more of his heated touch, more of everything he had to give.

Breath panting, she whined, as her eyes started to roll back in her head.

“Good girl!” Sihtric praised her. “Cum for me. Let me show you the stars,” he whispered, watching as Skade rode him, bouncing wildly up and down on his cock, her last remnants of self control being washed away by the raspy sound of his voice.

Tears of raw happiness streamed down her flushed cheeks as she submitted herself to him wholly and completely, with no hesitation, no regret.

Skade came with a loud moan, her walls spasming around Sihtric’s cock and body shaking in waves of pure bliss, her climax sweeping her racing mind empty of all thoughts, all emotions apart from one. Love.

For the first time in her life, she felt truly loved, and it was beautiful. It was indescribable, like taking her first breath after a lifetime of suffocating.

Sihtric felt Skade’s walls spasming around him as he kept fucking her though her orgasm and after a few more thrusts he followed her, his groans filling the air as he spilled deep inside her, imprinting himself on her walls.

Skade crushed against his chest, and Sihtric’s hands wrapped around her quivering body, pulling her tightly in his embrace as they both gasped for breath.

"I want to stay like this forever," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sihtric smiled, a mixture of mischief and sincerity in his expression. "Forever is a long time," he said, his fingers trailing down her spine, sending a delightful shiver through her body. "But I would gladly spend every moment of it with you."

“Then your life is mine, future Lord of Dunholm, but your path is your own.”

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argisthebulwark · 2 years ago

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d’you think any of our faves (bryn, teldryn, miraak, Erik, honestly whoever you wanna talk abt because I just like seeing your thoughts) would trek up high hroth if the LDB got injured after the main quest. like ‘cannot get down this shitfuck mountain’ injured. i am a sucker for the ‘person taking care of their injured partner’ trope I will admit.

OOOH this is interesting. i like this. Sorry if i write too much, gonna put it under a cut just in case.

it's sfw, just long. the fellas included are: Erik, Vilkas, Brynjolf & Teldryn. if there's anyone you think i missed pls let me know i actually really liked writing this!

edit: the last two fellas aren't showing up for a lot of people because tumblr is a good website. i added them here!

Erik would absolutely trek his ass up that mountain. He'd probably try to take on one too many frost trolls and end up with a minor injury himself but hey, he made it in one piece. If his timing was bad enough he might even have Klimmek's pack slung over one shoulder. "Hi honey." He'd kneel before the bed the Greybeards had lent you, hand running through your hair. His heart would twist at the state of you - blood staining the armor he'd helped buckle you into, bruises of all shades covering your arms. But he'd keep the smile on his face because that glimmer in your eye makes it all worth it. "You're here." You'd get choked up at the state of him - cheeks bright red from the chilly air, every inch of him wrapped in mismatched layers, that familiar smile on his face. "You came all the way here." "Anything for you." He'd kiss your hand, noting the swollen state of your wrist. "You know that." He'd try to not treat you any differently. He knew what it felt like to be coddled and didn't want you to feel like that. Instead he walked you through the stretches and helped you regain your health bit by bit, filling you in on what had happened in your absence. He'd still be in awe that he was allowed to love the Dragonborn, that you'd helped him fulfill what he felt was his destiny. He would absolutely carry you back down the mountain without a second thought. As soon as the Greybeards assured him that you were well enough to move he'd swaddle you into every layer of clothing he'd hauled up, lift you onto his back and remind you to hold on tight.

Vilkas would roll his eyes when someone informed him that you'd gone after the World Eater alone. He couldn't count the amount of times he'd told you to take help - you were a Companion after all, you needed backup. But no, you'd gone off alone to get yourself killed. Despite all his grumbling he'd find himself stomping up that god damned mountain. He consoled himself by counting each stair he found, intent on learning whether or not there truly were seven thousand blasted steps. He'd ignore the growing worry gnawing at his chest until he found himself face to face with the ancient stone doors grinding open just for him. When he stepped inside the frigid building he'd maintain the façade - allowing the Greybeards to lead him to where you rested, leg propped up and covered in bandages. The urge to tell them how poorly they'd taken care of you gave way when he heard the shock in your voice as you said his name. "You're surprised?" He'd snort, edging into the bed beside you. He told himself that it was merely to check on the state of you, nothing to do with the relief he felt when you curled closer to him. "This isn't the first time I've had to collect you." During the nights when sleep evaded you he would remind you what awaited back at Jorrvaskr; the crackling fire that would keep you warm, the comfortable bed, the friendly faces, the good food. He would find himself dozing off with your head on his chest while he talked of home. He'd stay with you until he was sure you were well enough to make it down, reminding you to keep an arm around his shoulder. When you flashed him one of those looks that drove him mad, the one that left his heart fluttering in the most obnoxious way, he'd remind you to mind the icy stairs.

Brynjolf would be out of the Cistern in an instant. He'd already grieved you once and wasn't willing to do it again. As soon as the courier arrived with an explanation of your situation he'd be shouting instructions at Delvin and Vex and throwing everything he owned into a backpack. He'd arrive in the dead of night. Moonlight guided him up the mountain and allowed him to stay out of the way of most beasts. Terror would be with him every step of the way - the snow, the hike, the fear of losing you, it was all too familiar. The fear would be choking him every step of the way, refusing to stop or rest until he could see you once again. He'd arrive a shivering mess, barely hearing Arngeir's explanation of what had transpired. He didn't care where you'd gone, all that mattered was that you were still breathing. "Bryn." He'd hate the shock in your voice as if you hadn't expected him to show up. He couldn't respond, merely falling into bed beside you. He would be mindful of your injuries when his fingers trailed along your body over and over, reassuring himself that you were whole, you were safe. "I don't think I've ever seen you this far from home before." "Anywhere for you, lass." He'd breathe into your scratchy blanket, pulling you in close to his chest. "To the ends of the world." He wouldn't take a single chance with your health. Even after the Greybeards insisted that you were well enough to walk he'd insist on doing most of the work, allowing you to walk only once the snow and ice thinned and he could see the grass again. Even when you stood on your own two feet his hands would never be far away.

Teldryn would grumble about the snow reminding him too much of Windhelm but he would do it. He'd have to layer extra clothes under his armor to fight off that god awful wind chill but he'd do it. He'd gotten the feeling that something was wrong when he didn't hear from you - you always checked in with him. That old panic from his last patron would nag at him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you too, not after all you'd been through together, the feelings you'd blurted out for him one night after one too many drinks or that smile you saved just for him. "Couldn't help yourself, could you?" He'd tease, kicking the pack full of your clothes toward your bed. He would relish in the shock written across your bruised face for just a moment. "I've followed you across continents and you're surprised I show up here? Give me a little more credit, sera." "I'm so glad to see you, Tel." His heart would ache at the teary tone of your voice. He'd give up the teasing and sit down on the edge of your bed, carefully checking over the battered state of your body. Finally that anxiety would lessen when he knew you were safe, he wasn't going to lose you. He would joke about making you carry him down the mountain when you were finally stable enough to leave. When you rolled your eyes at him and hobbled toward the steps he would remove the heaviest pieces of his armor and allow you to clamber onto his back. He'd relish in the press of your lips to his throat and the way you squeezed around him through every complaint about the snow and ice. "Let's retire to Solstheim." He'd smile at the words you speak against his shoulder, fingers clutching the front of his sweater. "I'll buy that empty house in Raven Rock and we'll never do anything or go anywhere ever again." "Sounds good to me, love."

#beloved mutuals #asks #writing #skyrim #erik the slayer #vilkas #brynjolf #miraak #teldryn sero #farkas

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scarletqueenx · 5 months ago

Text

chapter one - meet the holloways

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

Months had passed since the Djinn had sent him to that dream. Months in which many things had happened in Dean's life. The worst of all, watching his little brother die before his eyes. Which forced him to make a deal with a demon to bring him back to life. A deal that left him with now less than a year to live.

Dean tried not to think about you. He knew you would be better off away from him and his life as a hunter. Now he knew even more so. If he wanted to keep you safe he had to stay away. But his time was running out, and he didn't know if he could die peacefully without seeing you one last time.

Sam knew something was tormenting his brother. He was looking for a way to help him end the deal that would send him to hell in less than a year, while helping him fulfill his last wishes. At least that's what Dean called them.

Every chance he got, Sam would fill him with questions, trying to figure out what it was that his brother didn't want to tell him. He had come to the conclusion that it was a pending conversation with someone, as he often found his brother looking at the contacts on his phone, hesitating to press the call button.

"Bobby called. He says he has a case for us. Well, more like a favor." He informed his brother one morning.

"A favor?" Dean frowned, packing his clothes into his bag to leave the motel where they had spent the night.

"Yeah. To an old friend."

"Like a hunter?" He asked, putting on his jacket.

"I don't know." Sam shrugged, following his footsteps out of the room and to the car.

"Ok. Where?"

"San Francisco." He answered, getting inside the car.

"San Francisco?" Dean repeated, confused. Sam nodded. "Ok, well. Let's go." He stated, sitting in the driver's seat of the Impala. "Did he say anything else? What is the case about?"

Sam shook his head.

"He wasn't really specific. Said it was urgent and sent an address."

Dean said nothing more after that, starting the car to begin the drive to California.

Dean could feel a knot in his chest as they climbed the stairs to the porch of the house whose address Bobby had sent them. It was Sam who pressed the doorbell, both of them waiting for someone to open the door for them. But neither expected that it would be a child who did so.

"Hi. Is this the Holloway's house?" Sam asked, looking at the young boy of no more than 14 years old.

"That depends." He answered "Who's asking?"

His eyebrows raised with curiosity as his eyes roamed over them.

"I'm Sam." He introduced himself before pointing out to his brother "This is Dean. We are looking for Henry Holloway. Bobby send us."

"Hold on a minute." He asked them, raising a finger.

"Wait." Dean said in frustration as he watched him close the door on them.

Sam frowned, watching his brother with confusion. Dean seemed altered and nervous. Which was odd for Sam to see, as he was used to seeing him hide both of those feelings very well, especially in front of him.

The door opened once again at their side, both of them meeting a man instead of the boy who had previously opened the door for them.

"Hi." He greeted. "Dean and Sam?"

"Yes, sir." This time is Dean who answered, giving him a nod.

"Thank god you're here. Bobby said you'll be coming." He sighed with relief, stepping aside. "Come in, come in." He gestured for them to enter the house. Dean and Sam didn't hesitate to do so, closing the door behind them. "This is Peter, my youngest son." Henry pointed to the stairs, where the boy was sitting. A Deadpool comic book on his hands.

Dean gave him a little nod, while Sam raised his hand. Peter watched them carefully as they walk behind his father, into his office.

"Bobby said you may had a case for us." Dean said, looking at the books and documents scattered around the room. It was then that he realized the state the man was in. It was very clear that he hadn't slept in a long time. Disheveled and with dark circles under his eyes.

"Yes. I do." He nodded, looking for something through all the documents. "Where the hell is it?" Mumbled to himself before raising his voice. "Peter, where is the photo?"

"On the shelf. On top of the books" The boy replied, not bothering to look up from his comic book.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks." Henry walked back over to the Winchester brothers. With a frame in his hands he pointed a finger at the girl in the picture. "This... this my little girl. She... She is missing"

Dean had already figured out from their first and last names alone that Henry and Peter were the family of the girl he had dated years before. But when he saw that photo his suspicions were finally confirmed.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Sam asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Two nights ago." Henry answered. "She went to her room after a movie night. There is no sings of any violence or struggle. I think she left. She does that sometimes. Goes out at night and hunts some ghosts, vampires or other creatures."

"Wait." Dean interrupted him, getting his attention. Henry looked at him in confusion as Dean struggled to utter the question he wanted to ask him. "Eh... Sorry. She... she is a hunter?"

"She thinks she is." He said, correcting him. "I mean... she is good at it. Really good. Her mother trained her when she was a kid. And she has never stop training after her death. I... I'm a teacher in university. I teach about myths and creatures. She knows how to kill them."

"So, you think she went after something?" Sam asked.

"Well, yeah. That would be the most logical reason." He nodded. "That's why I called Bobby"

"Any idea of what could it be?"

"No. I... I don't know"

"Any place she could've written it down? Any information she had compiled that might give us some idea of what could it be?"

"Ah... If that's the case, it would be in her room." He gestured toward the stairs.

Before he could guide them to the room, the house phone rang announcing a call.

"Excuse me." He quickly apologized, walking to the phone. "Peter, take them to your sister's room."

The boy sighed, rising to his feet. Sam and Dean approached him, the latter taking one last quick glance at the man.

"This way." He indicated them, starting to walk up the stairs.

Once on the second floor, the brothers follow the footsteps of the young boy with curly blond hair and sea-blue eyes down the long hallway. Sam, still confused by his brother's attitude, turned to watch him with concern.

"Dean, are you okay?" He asked.

"Mmm?" Dean glanced at him with confusion. "Yes. I'm fine." He assured. "Am... Peter? How long has your sister been hunting?"

"Since she turned 16." The kid replied. "She is 24 now. Think you can count how many years those are?"

Dean and Sam shared a look at his answer.

"Very funny."

Peter stopped, catching the brothers by surprise and causing both of them to nearly bump into him.

He then turned back to face them. "Are you going to find her?" Peter asked, hesitant.

"That's the idea. Yes." Sam stated.

Dean squinted his eyes, watching the expression on the young boy's face.

"Hey, kid. I'm sure she is fine." Dean didn't know if he was just trying to calm the boy down or if he was also trying to convince himself. He was still trying to process the fact that he had broken up with you because of his job and now he was finding out that you were also a hunter.

Peter nodded slightly, opening the door behind him.

"She hides everything in that closet." He gestured, letting them into the room.

"Do you have the key?" Dean asked, looking at the lock on the closet door.

"She wears one in her necklace. I don't know where she hides the spare one."

"We could force it." Sam suggested, looking at his brother.

"She would kill you." Peter stated, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"We could look for the key. If we don't find it, we open it without it." Dean suggested.

"Fine."

"Peter, are you sure you don't know where she might have hide it?".

The boy shrugged, causing Dean and Sam to share a look.

Peter sighed before speaking. "She loves this teddy bear. It has a pocket on the back." He explained, stretching out on the bed until he reached it. Dean nodded, taking it in his hands.

"Here it is." He celebrated, handing the key to his brother.

Sam took it in his hands, opening the closet with it. His eyes meeting with a pile of books and weapons stored inside.

"Wow. Didn't know she had that much weapons." Peter admitted, moving closer.

"Does she ever tell you what she hunts?" Dean asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to pull him back before he could reach for one of the knives as he intended.

"She talks about the cases with me as bedtime stories." He shrugged. "She hunts ghosts mostly. She likes the fact that she is putting them to rest. Loves the searching part of it too. She has also hunt some vampires. A werewolf once."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise at his words.

"What about demons?"

"They exist?"

"Yeah. They exist."

"I don't think so." He replied. "But maybe. She has hunt a couple of witches too."

"Ok. So she knows how to hunt the basics." Sam noted, catching his brother's attention. "But if she doesn't know about demons... She maybe doesn't know they can't die and that you have to exorcise them."

"Exorcise?" Peter opened his eyes in surprise. "Like the movie?"

"Yeah, like the movie. More less."

Peter narrowed his eyes, watching Dean as he grabbed one of the small leather-bound journals from one of the boxes.

"Don't... touch her diaries." Dean ignored him, opening it up. "She is going to kill you, dude."

"Better that than let her die, don't you think?" He stated. His eyes darting quickly across the pages of the journal.

"Just saying. You read her diaries, she not going to care if you saved her."

Dean stopped listening to him when his eyes came across a small photo. It was a polaroid that you had taken of the two of you one night inside Baby. You had found the camera in a store and had thought it was funny. That was the last night you had spent together. The last time Dean saw you.

"This one is old." He noted, reading the date in the upper right corner of the page. "Do you know where she keeps her current one?"

"No."

Dean turned to look at him as Sam checked the guns.

"Why do I not believe you?" He asked. Peter shrugged. "Listen, kid. We are trying to find her alive. But you need to help for that to happen, understand?"

Peter looked at him carefully, not sure of what to say. He didn't know Dean and Sam. He didn't trust them. But it was his sister they were talking about. You could be in a lot of trouble. And you were his favorite person in the world, he couldn't lose you.

"There is a broken board on the floor." He finally said. "She hides it underneath."

"Where?"

Letting out a sigh, Peter got up from the edge of the bed, walking over to the bookshelf where you kept your records and music tapes.

"Here." He gestured, dropping on his knees to the ground.

Dean soon followed him as Sam scanned the rest of the room for any other clues. His fingers grasped the board carefully, lifting it up to open the small hiding place. His eyes stumbling over the diary.

"Any friends? Hunters she would go hunt with?" Dean then asked. "A boyfriend maybe?"

That last question left his mouth with hesitation. The truth was, he didn't want to hear whatever answer Peter had to give him. It made sense to think that you would have moved on with your life, but that didn't make the thought of you with someone else hurt any less.

"No."

A wave of relief washed over his body at the blonde's response. But Dean did his best to hide it.

"No?" His eyebrows rose as his eyes met boy's blue ones. "Nothing? No friends?"

"She is a pretty lonely girl." Peter shrugged. "I'm her best friend."

"That's sweet."

Dean couldn't judge her for that. Since for him, his little brother was also his best friend and all he had.

After a few more minutes checking your room, Dean and Sam prepared to leave the house. They didn't have much information, so the best thing to do was to start looking around the city. Eat something to regain their energies and look for a motel since it looked like it was going to take a while to find you.

"Can I go with you?" Peter asked as they reached the door. Blocking their way out of the room.

"No." Dean stated.

"Why?" The kid looked at him in confusion.

"Because it's dangerous." Sam was the one who answered this time.

"If it's a ghost I know how to fight them." He assured them. "And vampires too."

"You're not coming." Dean declared, tired of his persistence.

"Why?"

"First, your father would kill us." He noted. "Second, your sister would kill us."

Before Peter could say anything to argue that statement, his father stepped before them.

"You're still here, great." Henry sighed with relief. "Do you have any leads?"

"No. Not yet." Sam answered. "We were going to a motel. Trying to gather all the information Peter has given us."

"Which is not much." Dean muttered to himself.

"Oh, that's why I was relieved you were still here." Henry said. Both brothers looked at him with confusion. "You can stay with us. The house is big enough. We have a guest room. I can put another bed in it."

"We don't want to intrude."

"You don't." He assured.

Dean and Sam shared a quick look before answering.

"Ok, then." Said the older one.

"Great." Henry celebrated, clapping his hands together.

"We're going out to do some research, we'll come back later." Dean then said.

"All right."

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

"So... Are you going to talk about it?" Sam asked as they walked into a coffee shop a couple of blocks from the house.

"Talk about what?" Dean frowned searching for an empty table.

"I don't know." Sam shrugged, following his brother's footsteps to a table at the back of the place. "You've been weird since we got here. Actually, you've been weird for a while now, but today you've been even more so."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't."

"What do you want me to say, Sammy?" Dean looked at him in confusion.

"You know her." Sam pointed out.

"What?" Dean questioned. But something had changed in him, and Sam could tell despite his efforts to hide it.

"This girl. You know her, don't you?"

"What makes you think that?" His gaze turned away from his brother's, a clear sign that he knew exactly what he was referring to but was trying to keep up his false confusion.

"It's actually pretty obvious." Sam shrugged, leaning his back against the seat.

"It's not that obvious." Dean complained, looking back at him.

"So it's true?" His eyebrows rose and a small grin peeked through his lips.

"I didn't say that."

"Oh, come on, Dean." He insisted, resting his elbows on the table as he leaned forward. "Listen, maybe the things you know about her can help us find her."

"I don't know anything about her. I didn't even knew she was a hunter." He declared in frustration. "We... dated. It was before dad disappeared. Right after you went to Stanford. We were a couple of moths together."

"Months?" Sam looked at him in surprise.

"Yeah, months." He nodded, studying his brother's expression. "What?"

"Nothing." Sam said. Dean sighed, happy that the conversation had come to an end. But Sam didn't felt the same way as he continued talking. "I just didn't knew you could open that much to someone. You barely date women for a couple of weeks, Dean." He stated. Earning a serious look from Dean. "Hey, I'm not judging you. Everybody's gonna open up to someone eventually."

"Yeah, well, I don't. It was stupid to get that close." He declared, looking at his brother with annoyance as he noticed the amused smile on his lips. "Would you stop?" He asks, annoyed. "Blink or something."

"You loved her." Sam stated. Dean sighed, looking away from him. "You were in love with her, but you dumped her."

Dean closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was trying to think what he should answer. But his mouth started moving before he could think clearly. "I was gonna tell her the secret." Sam looked at him in surprise. "You know, our job and all of that. But then dad needed my help and... He figured out I was with someone when I refused to go on a case with him. It was her birthday, I couldn't just walk away and leave her. Which is exactly what I did when Dad opened my eyes when he told me that by telling her about us I would only put her in danger. Which he was right about."

"Yeah, maybe. But she is also a hunter."

"Wish I knew back then, honestly." He assured. "I knew her father taught about this kinds of things, but no that they knew they were actually real. It's like I didn't knew her at all."

"Ok. So... You knowing her it's not going to help us find her."

"No."

The waitress approached them with a small notebook in her hands, asking if they know you. She had heard them say your name as they passed her on their way into the place.

"You know her?" Sam asked, raising his eyes to her.

"Yeah. She comes here often. In fact, she sits at this exact booth." She informed them, resting a finger on the table's wood. "Our burgers are the best in the neighborhood. At least that's what she says. Spends a couple of hours a day here. She eats and reads while listening to music on her walkman. Pretty old fashion if you ask me." She explained. "Is she doing okay? Hasn't been here for the last couple of days."

"Did she say anything strange to you the last time you saw her?" Sam asked.

"No. We don't talk much, actually. She seemed pretty focused reading a newspaper, but nothing else out of the ordinary."

"Do you have a newspaper from that day?" Dean questioned, gaining the girls attention.

"I don't know." She answered. "I can go check, though."

"That would be great." Sam said. "Thanks."

She nodded.

"And can you bring us a couple of those famous burgers?" Dean asked. "And a couple of beers."

"Yeah. No problem." She smiled at him, writing their order on her pad.

Sam then turned to his brother with a small smile on his lips.

"Walkman?" He repeated with amusement. "You two are made for each other."

"Oh, shut up." Dean rolled his eyes at his comment.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

By the time Dean and Sam returned to the Holloway house it was dark. They both thought that Peter and Henry would have gone to sleep by then and they wouldn't be approached with questions. But that wasn't the case.

Peter was the first to appear, turning on the entrance light. Dean narrowed his eyes at the sudden brightness.

"Did you guys find something?" He asked.

Dean sighed, getting used to the light and finally meeting the young man's figure at the bottom of the stairs.

"No."

"No?" He repeated, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows in disbelief. "What kind of hunters are you?"

Dean wasn't amuse by that.

"Okay, kid, even if we found something, we are not going to tell you." He then replied.

"Why? She's my sister, you know."

That was the moment Henry appeared, coming down the stairs as he put on his glasses.

"Did you guys find anything?" He asked, as he reached his son. His eyes watching the Winchester brothers, looking for answers.

"No. They're useless." Peter answered before either of them could say anything.

"We are still searching." Sam said, ignoring the boy's words.

"In fact, we have a question for you, Peter." Dean admitted. The boy raised his eyebrows, looking at the newspaper he was showing him. "Do you know this girl?" His finger pointed to a photo on the page.

"Kaila Matthews?" He asked, looking at the picture. "Yeah. She disappeared a couple of days ago after school."

"You go to class with her?" Sam asked.

"Maybe."

"Answer the question." Dean instructed.

"Why? You're supposed to be looking for my sister not her."

"Do you?" Dean insisted.

"Okay. Yes. We go to the same class." He finally admitted.

"Do you know anything about her apart for her disappearance?"

"Not much. She is pretty shy. Likes marvel comics, like me, so I think she is cool. We once did a school work together."

"Not that." Dean sighed in annoyance.

"Oh, like... personal stuff?" Peter narrowed his eyes, receiving a small nod from Dean.

"Yeah."

"She lives with her father and baby brother a couple of blocks from here." He answered.

"Father and baby brother?" Dean repeated, sharing a look with his brother.

"Yeah."

"Doesn't that sound familiar to you?" He asked, returning his gaze to the boy.

"Wait. You think the same person or monster that got my sister got her first?" Peter narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Maybe. Or maybe someone or something was trying to get your sisters attention. And she fell for it looking for the girl."

"So this is personal." Henry pointed, catching the brothers' attention. "If that's the case... she might be already..."

"Okay. Let's... not jump into conclusions." Dean interrupted him. "She is not dead."

Henry nodded slightly, trying to hold on to hope for his daughter. But Dean's attention was once again drawn to the young man with golden curls who at that moment was walking away from them.

"Hey, where are you going?" He asked, following his footsteps to Henry's office.

"She said something before leaving." Peter replied, looking through the papers scattered on the desk. His father and Sam stood next to Dean, looking at him in confusion.

"Oh, and you happen to tell us just now?"

"I was asleep when she left. I couldn't remember." He explained in his defense. "She mentioned a park."

"Kaila disappeared in a park." Sam remembered, pointing to the newspaper in his hand.

"Yes, exactly." Peter exclaimed. "Here."

He walked back to Dean, handing him a map of the city and pointing to a location on it.

"Golden Gate Park?" Dean frowned.

"Yes. I remember Kaila mentioning she loves to go visit the Conservatory of Flowers with her father. Her mom used to love that place." Peter explained.

"Okay. So Kaila disappeared one day there, her father went to the police and your sister heard about it somehow. She went there the next night and you called Bobby for help." Sam summarized. Henry nodded.

"Alright, let's go to that conservatory." Dean declared, heading back to the door as he folded the map in his hands.

As Sam and Dean got into their car, Peter looked at his father with expectation. The boy couldn't bear the thought of staying in the house while they went in search of his sister. Dean had exclaimed a 'stay here' before leaving, but Peter wasn't a big fan of following the rules. And to tell the truth that was something he had inherited not only from his mother, but also from his father. Henry couldn't stay home and do nothing while his daughter could be in danger, or worse, dying. So, ignoring Dean's words, they both got into their car, following the Chevy Impala driven by the eldest Winchester brother.

"I thought I told you not to follow us" Dean complained as he got out of the vehicle once they arrived at the closest entry of the park to the conservatory.

"You don't seriously think I'm going to stand still, do you? It's my little girl we're talking about" Henry approached him, watching as Dean opened the trunk of the car, which was filled with various weapons.

"Besides, we don't know if you even know how to take care of yourselves." Peter said. "Should we really expect you to save her?"

"We are hunters, you know."

"You had no clue where to find her before I gave you a lead."

"And it took you hours to tell us." Dean reminded him with annoyance, slamming the trunk shut.

"Wasn't sure I could trust you." He shrugged, following his steps through the park. "And I'm still not sure if I'm being honest."

Dean turned to him with an irritated expression on his face, ready to answer him.

"Stop with the bickering." Sam interrupted. "Keep silent, and do not stray away" He instructed Peter and his father.

"I actually think we should split up" Dean stated as they reach the conservatory gate, which was strangely and very clearly forced open.

"Is never a good idea in the movies." Peter said.

"This is not a movie..." A strange noise interrupted his words, alerting him.

Opening the door slowly, the four of them enter the place. It was the middle of the night, so the dim light made everything more sinister. Peter had been smart enough to grab a flashlight and take it with him, just as the Winchesters had done. They also carried a gun and a machete in their hands, still not knowing what they were up against.

As he turned on his flashlight, the light shone brightly on a figure.

"Kaila?" He asked, recognizing her former classmate. Dark hair and blue eyes, the girl's nervous breathing calmed down when she recognized his voice in the distance.

"Peter? Thank god." She sighed in relief. The boy ran towards her while Dean and Sam checked the large main room for the creature that had taken her. "Your sister..."

"Have you seen her? Where is she?" He asked.

"I don't know." She replied as Sam, Dean and Henry stood next to Peter. "She told me to stay in the ring of salt and not to move." She pointed to the circle on the floor that surrounded her.

"When was the last time you saw her? Where did she go?" Dean then asked, trying to calm his own nerves.

"He... He had locked me in one of the flower rooms. The one with the daisies, my mother's favorite. That section is closed for maintenance, no one found me for days." She explained nervously. "But she did two nights ago. I don't remember much else after that, I think I passed out. Tonight when I woke up, we tried to leave, but he came back and she told me to stay here. That I would be safe." Her eyes rose again to meet Dean's and Sam's gazes. "I don't know why a circle of salt would stop him, but it did. He walked by, a few minutes ago and... he just looked at me."

"Are you hurt?" Henry then asked, crouching down to be at eye level with her. She shook her head.

"No. He didn't touch me." She assured. "Couldn't say the same about her tho. I hope she is..."

A loud cry of pain echoed throughout the building, interrupting her. Everyone's heads turned towards the direction of the scream.

That scream was quickly followed by another a second later. Dean wasted no time, running in its direction. Sam followed his footsteps closely while Peter and Henry stayed with Kaila.

Dean's scream asking for you was heard throughout the entire conservatory. You weren't able to recognize his voice, but the demon leaning over you did.

"You got lucky, beautiful." He murmured, stroking you blood-stained cheek. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to stifle a cry of pain. "I don't want to have to face those two hunters. Not yet at least. We'll meet again, don't worry. Maybe you'll recognize my face more next time." He smiled slightly before separating from you.

A small wave of relief filled you as you no longer felt his presence next to you. But you still felt that dread in your chest.

Dean was the first to reach you, crouching down next to you after checking the room for any potential threats. His green eyes met yours for a quick second before your vision blurred. Everything turning black seconds later as you fell unconscious.

Keep Reading: Chapter 2

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