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bluejayblueskies · 2 years ago

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deathless

Words: 4.6k Fandom: Malevolent (Podcast) Relationship: John & Arthur Tags: Ghost AU, Fantasy AU, Modern AU, Emotional Intimacy, Queerplatonic Relationships

Written for @malevolentfantasyweek for the prompt haunted! CW for death mentions, threats, and possession (initially against one’s will)

|| AO3 ||

In hindsight, buying the ridiculously low-priced house with build papers from the late 1700s and an appeal for condemnation on record was probably an ill-advised move. But Arthur still maintains that ghosts are not a typical nor rational thing to worry about when browsing real estate, and—well. His financial circumstances had been less than ideal after the whole falsely-accused-of-murdering-his-partner thing. Between the lawyers and losing his job and flat and the relatively high publicity surrounding the whole ordeal … he could barely scrape together the funds to move out here, slim as they were. His bank accounts are dry, his pockets empty. He’s managed to pick up a job in town at a bookshop, but the pay is nowhere near that of his previous job, only enough for the necessary food expenses, property taxes, and the like. Arthur, quite literally, has nowhere else to go.

So when he startles awake in the middle of his second night there to a voice hissing in his ear, “Leave this place,” he swallows, reaches for his earplugs, and lies on his side with his eyes firmly shut until his heartbeat calms down enough to allow him to fall asleep once again.

“That place up on the hill?” the bookshop owner says the next day, raising a thin eyebrow. “Didn’t think they were still letting people live there.”

“Yes, well—I do, and I just … wanted to know if you knew any history about it.”

The bookshop owner—Mr. Abernathy, Arthur recalls—shrugs. “Sure. Been here since the town was built back in … 1795? Something like that. Beautiful place once upon a time. Nobody’s quite sure what happened to it—death, maybe, but nothing that’s on record. Either way, it’s almost certainly cursed.”

“Cursed?”

“Not a single person who’s moved into that house over the past century or so has stayed more than a few months. They hear voices, apparently. Keeps them up at night, wears away at their sanity. Pastor Emanual thinks it could be some sort of demon, but no blessing or exorcism has ever done much good.” Mr. Abernathy eyes Arthur. “If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s in your best interest to move. That place—nobody should live there. Should have been torn down decades ago.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m afraid moving is … not quite an option for me at the moment. I simply wanted some context so that if things do happen, I am prepared to handle them to the best of my ability.”

Mr. Abernathy stares at Arthur a moment more before shrugging and turning away. “All right. Can’t say I didn’t warn you. Can you shelve the new arrivals for me?”

“Certainly.”

As Arthur turns to head further into the bookstore, box in his arms, Mr. Abernathy says, “And Mr. Lester?”

Arthur pauses. “Yes?”

“You’d be wise to wear iron. Keeps the demons at bay.”

Arthur swallows. “I will … take it under advisement, Mr. Abernathy.”

Mr. Abernathy grunts and lets him be. He blessedly says nothing when Arthur slides him a few coins in exchange for a book on spirits and the supernatural. Just in case.

“That isn’t going to help you.”

Arthur is not ashamed to admit that he startles quite badly when the disembodied voice speaks into his ear yet again. He takes a shaky breath, then returns to his task of painting the symbol he’d found in the book on the doorframe in front of him. “Maybe not,” he says, feeling a bit silly as he talks to what is, by all appearances, empty air. “But it can’t hurt either. Besides, this is my house. I can decorate it how I please.”

There’s a long pause. Then, the voice chuckles, low and deep in a way that sends an unwanted shiver down Arthur’s spine. “Is it now?”

“Given that it is my name on the lease, yes, it is.” Arthur dips the paintbrush back into the bucket a touch aggressively, and the pale yellow paint within splatters across his trousers. “Damn.”

The temperature of the air around him drops without warning, and his breath fogs in front of him. “This is my house, not yours. It belongs to me. Leave, now.”

Arthur’s breaths are coming quicker than he’d like, and before he can think about the consequences of such a statement, he snaps, “Make me.”

The air is thick with tension, and Arthur can hardly breathe for it. For a moment, he is sure—absolutely certain—that he is looking at the last few moments of his life. Then, voice tight with ice-cold fury, the thing that haunts his home snarls, “You will regret this, Arthur Lester.”

The tension snaps like a thin rubber band, and Arthur gasps as the pressure on his chest lifts. He stands atop the kitchen chair he’d dragged over in order to paint the sigil, breathing heavily and trying to calm the rapid-fire beating of his heart. His knees feel wobbly, made of jelly. He sinks down to sit on the chair, putting his head in his hands and focusing on slowing his breathing lest he begin to panic in earnest.

That had … perhaps not been wise.

After a full week without incident, Arthur is feeling considerably less panicked and considerably more tired of the situation he’s found himself in.

“I don’t regret it yet,” he says, trying to sound casual as he stirs the soup he’s making. “Not that I’m trying to encourage you to enact your unholy revenge upon me—I like living, actually, and I also like all my body parts and such intact and where they should be—but I just thought I should say it. In case we aren’t on the same page about this.”

It takes almost ten minutes for the spirit to respond. “You are a remarkably irritating man.”

“I’ve been told so once or twice, yes.”

The spirit growls, low enough that it rumbles the floors slightly. “I’m working on it, okay? You think this is easy? I don’t have a fucking body!”

“And you are a remarkably tetchy … whatever it is you are.”

“Well what do you think I am?”

“If I had to guess,” Arthur says, setting his spoon down and retrieving some spices from the cupboard, “I’d say a ghost. Which sounds preposterous, but, well—here we are.”

“Congratulations. Your investigative skills are unparalleled.”

“No need to be rude.”

“There is a need, because I want you to leave.”

“Yes, you said. And I said that I’m still waiting for you to force me out. It appears that we’re at a stalemate.”

“We are not—”

The ghost cuts off with a frustrated noise. “… Fine. So tell me what I have to say to convince you to leave me the fuck alone?”

“I thought you were going to do something. Make me ‘regret it.’ Is that not on the table anymore?”

The ghost’s growl rumbles through the house, and Arthur barely catches the salt shaker before it tips off the counter and onto the floor. “Oh, it is very much still on the table. I just … thought I might be diplomatic first. Give you a chance to leave with your wits and your body intact.”

Arthur sets the salt shaker down on the counter and sighs. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, so you may as well just give up now.”

There’s a pause, long enough that Arthur assumes the ghost has disappeared to wherever it goes when it’s not yelling at him. Then, just as he’s turning off the stove, the ghost says, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why couldn’t you leave?”

“That’s—honestly none of your business.”

“It is my business if you’re going to be staying here.” A pause. “If I’m going to allow you to stay here,” the ghost amends.

“You’re not ‘allowing’ me to do anything. This is my house—I bought it. It’s my name on the lease.”

“And it’s my bones buried underneath the floorboards, which makes it my house.”

That’s a … disquieting image. Arthur tries to put it out of his mind as he begins ladling soup into his bowl. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to share then. It’ll be our house.”

The spirit doesn’t say anything—just growls lowly, like it’s not pleased by the prospect but can’t think of a good argument against it.

“Oh, don’t be like that. It’ll be an adjustment for both of us. You’ll have to get used to having me around, and I’ll have to get used to talking to an invisible, intangible voice that I’m still not entirely convinced isn’t only in my head.”

“I assure you, I am very much real.”

“That is what a voice that’s only in my head would say, so I’m afraid I can’t put much stock in it.”

“You are infuriating. Get out of my fucking house.”

“I told you, I can’t.” Arthur collects his soup and sits down at the kitchen table—a round wooden thing that looks to be centuries old. “This is just how it’s going to be. I don’t suppose you can eat soup, can you? I’ve certainly made enough to share.”

The spirit’s irritated grumbling is answer enough.

Despite what Arthur likes to tell himself, he is not fearless, and despite what others tell him, he does understand how to be cautious and careful. Unfortunately, that does not equate to being any less stubborn or curious or impulsive or any of the other things that usually land him in situations such as this.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” Arthur snaps, trying to hide the fact that he’s fucking terrified underneath a thick mask of anger and frustration.

The voice comes from everywhere all at once. “Oh, Arthur. I did say you would regret it. You just assumed I’d forgotten.”

“No, I assumed we’d come to an agreement! You know, the one where you let me live in peace and I don’t find a way to exorcise you!”

“I recall agreeing to no such thing.”

“Fucking—bastard.” Arthur takes a few steps forward and promptly bangs his shin against something hard and unforgiving. “Fuck! Okay, that’s enough; give me back my sight you asshole.”

The answering chuckle makes Arthur grit his teeth. “No. I still don’t have a body of my own, so I’ve gotten … creative. This will have to do for now.”

“Do for what?”

A pause. “I want to leave this place.”

Arthur is breathing hard, on a knife’s edge between panic and fury. “What?”

“I want,” the spirit repeats, sounding irritated, “to leave this place. Surely that isn’t too difficult a concept for you to understand.”

“After all this about you wanting me to leave, now you do?”

“This is different. I’m not leaving for good; I’m just … stretching my legs, so to speak. If you’re not going to let me exist in peace, the least you can do it help me get out of this fucking house for the first time in centuries. Consider it … rent.”

“Rent?” Arthur says in disbelief. “Fuck you. You don’t own this house, and you do not own my eyes. Give them back.”

“No.” Then, when Arthur’s breathing starts to come quicker and more ragged: “Relax, Arthur. This isn’t permanent. I can choose to leave your body whenever I want, and everything else besides your eyes still belongs to you.”

“Oh, yes, because that’s reassuring. How do I know you’re ever going to leave at all?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me when I say that I will.”

“Bullshit.”

“Arthur, listen to me. I am fucking tired of this place. Imagine you’re stuck here, year after year, with no body. No way to leave. Nothing to do but linger at the boundary between life and death and try to let yourself fade enough that the days don’t pass by at an agonizing pace. Forgive me if I’m desperate for a change of scenery.”

“Then why try to force me to leave? Surely having somebody around is better than having nobody?”

“I get a bit … territorial.”

Despite everything, Arthur can’t help but laugh at that. “Territorial?”

“My body is attached to this place, Arthur. I’m tied to it. If it burns, I burn. So yes, I’m a little bit fucking territorial.”

The thought crosses Arthur’s mind, just for a moment, that it wouldn’t be difficult at all to find enough petrol to set the entire place alight within minutes. But it’s not a realistic notion. Aside from the fact that he would be well and truly fucked then, with no savings and nowhere to live, he’s not entirely sure what would happen to him with the ghost still attached to his body. Would it be pulled away cleanly, or would it bring his eyes with it? Best not to risk it.

Besides, it’s … it wouldn’t be the same as killing the ghost, not really, given that it’s already dead. But it certainly feels like killing. And despite all their disagreements and the whole … eye situation, that thought doesn’t sit well with Arthur at all.

“Fine. I suppose that makes sense.” Arthur feels his way along the wall to his couch, sitting heavily and running a hand through his hair. “So … what, then? You’re going to use my eyes to see things?”

“Unless you know some other function that they possess.”

Arthur laughs wryly. “Right. Of course, right. This is … fuck. Okay. I have to go to work in a few minutes and I can’t fucking see, but this is … this is fine.”

“Relax. I’ll guide you.”

How do I know you’re not going to run me into doors for the fun of it? Arthur does not say. He doesn’t want to give the ghost ideas.

They’re halfway to town before a thought occurs to him. “If we’re going to be sharing a body, at least for the time being, I’d like to know your name. You know mine; I feel it’s only fair.”

The ghost is quiet for a long moment, long enough that Arthur begins to worry that it’s gone and he has truly, actually lost his sight. Then, quietly: “I don’t remember.”

“You … don’t remember?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” the ghost snaps. Then, after a moment: “When you’ve spent as much time between worlds as I have, things begin to … slip away. Identity, personhood. I remember … very few things about myself. I was a man, I believe; I think I lived alone, though that’s just an extrapolation based on the fact that as far as I know, I’m the only spirit inhabiting the house. Beyond that…”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur says, and he means it.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Still. To not remember anything about oneself? I imagine it’s quite a lonely existence.”

“It … is.”

“Mm. I suppose you’re a John Doe then.”

“A what?”

“Oh, it’s—it’s a moniker given to unidentified individuals, often … deceased ones. John Doe. Sort of a … catch-all name for those who have none.”

The ghost hums. They walk in silence for a few more moments before it—he, Arthur supposes—says, “John.”

“Hmm?”

“My name. You can call me John.”

“Well,” Arthur says, smiling despite the truly unusual situation he’s somehow landed himself in. “It’s nice to meet you, John.”

Things become … not routine after that, but something close to it. For the first week or so afterward, Arthur wakes in a panic, momentarily forgetting his current situation in a haze of I can’t see why can’t I see oh Jesus Christ oh fucking god. John soothes him every time, which is—a bit strange at first, but Arthur gets used to it. He supposes one can get used to anything with enough time and exposure.

He’s able to move around much more deftly than he thought he’d be able to, largely due to John in his ear guiding him around corners and through doors. (Though the third time Arthur stubs his toe on something, accompanied by John’s deep, rumbling laughter, he begins to suspect that this is John’s way of being humorous.) Perhaps it’s because John has only seen the inside of the same house for hundreds of years, or perhaps the man is a poet at heart, but the descriptions Arthur receives of a town he’d perceived as average at best are nothing short of eloquent.

It’s a … surprisingly endearing quality. Equally as surprising is the fact that Arthur feels endeared in the first place by the ghost possessing his eyes. But it’s…

Well.

He likes John. It’s a feeling that grows over the weeks, despite their frequent arguments and the reality of the situation looming over them and the fact that John can really be a right prick when he wants to be. (Though John would tell him that he can be the same. Has told him, in fact. Many times. They should not be memories that Arthur is fond of, but he is.) Arthur gets the impression that, underneath all the snarls and prickliness, John is … longing for something, something he’s scared he may not ever get. Identity, maybe. Or freedom. It comes out when he talks about his history with the house, when they speculate about who he was, when Arthur takes a trip to the local courthouse and spends an afternoon digging through the records in an attempt to find something that sparks recognition within John. (Nothing does, and John leaves the encounter sullen and snappish. Arthur picks up a book that night and has John read it to him, and that becomes folded into their routine as well, another thread in the tapestry of their relationship.)

In their third week together, fifth since Arthur moved into the house, Arthur tells John about why he came here, to Harper’s Hill. He tells him about Parker and the accident and the trials and the near bankruptcy. He’s not sure how he expected John to respond—with a joke? With a half-hearted platitude? With a dismissive comment? He didn’t expect John to say, “I’m … sorry I tried to force you to leave,” more earnest than Arthur’s ever heard him before.

Something in Arthur’s chest tightened at the words, refusing to loosen even as the weeks rolled on.

It all comes together a few months after Arthur moved to Harper’s Hill, when Mr. Abernathy makes a comment about Arthur ‘spending so much time talking to himself.’ Arthur, who had genuinely forgotten that that was something other people might take note of, makes up an excuse about it helping him focus and ignores John’s hissed, Don’t tell him about me! because, Of course I’m not going to tell him about you, John, come off it.

Mr. Abernathy doesn’t look entirely convinced, but all he says before returning to the back storage room is, “You ought to find some friends, Mr. Lester. It can get awfully lonely talking to yourself all the time.”

And when Arthur has to bite back an, I’ve already got a friend, it clicks.

John is his friend. His best friend. They’re closer than perhaps even he and Parker had been, which is … a thought Arthur decides not to linger on, given that Parker’s death is still a bit of a raw subject for him. It’s something Arthur doesn’t put much stock in at first, because as well as they got on once the initial hostility faded, John is still technically possessing his body against his will.

… Is it against his will anymore?

(That’s another thought Arthur tries not to examine too closely.)

Still, he can’t seem to forget about it once it’s occurred to him. So one night after they’ve shut their book—Gulliver’s Travels, which John had picked out from the bookshop after significant needling from Arthur to just pick a fucking book, John, for Christ’s sake—Arthur decides fuck it and broaches the subject. “John, can we … can we have a discussion?”

“Of course,” John says. If he has any indication of what Arthur means, he doesn’t show it in his voice.

“Right. I wanted to talk about … my eyes. Our eyes.”

John’s voice is guarded when he says, “What about them?”

“I’m not—asking you to leave if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried. Why would I be worried? The leaving will be on my terms, not yours.” A pause. “If you’re worried, I assure you, I still have no intentions of making this a permanent situation.”

“Right. No, yes, you’re right—this isn’t permanent.” Arthur laughs, a bit wryly. “Honestly, though, I—I can’t really remember clearly what it was like to be able to see things, it’s been so long. I’ve … grown used to it.”

“Have you.” John doesn’t sound judgmental or skeptical—just a touch curious.

“Yes. I suppose one can get used to anything given the right motivations. But, regardless, that … that wasn’t what I meant either.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I—I suppose I meant that…” Arthur hesitates, considering. This isn’t something he can un-say, and he wants to be sure of it. “I suppose I meant that I am … glad to have met you. We’ve come a long way since our first meeting, I believe, and I … I don’t know. I think we get on well, don’t you?”

“I suppose we do. Arthur, if you are trying to tell me something, would you please just quit dancing around it and just say it?”

“Right, yes, of course. Well, you know that it was … difficult to adjust at first, to not having my sight. There are times when we still don’t quite see eye to eye—er, no pun intended. There are things I miss—not being able to see the sunrise, for example, or needing the illustrations in books described to me—but there are also things I … I have come to appreciate, like the way a book feels when read aloud and the nuances of the sounds around me. And I do mean it when I say that I would rather this not be a permanent situation, I do, but I also…”

“Arthur, for fuck’s sake, just say it.”

“You can have my eyes,” Arthur says, all at once, like an exhalation.

There is a long pause, during which all Arthur can hear is the rush of his own heartbeat in his ears. Then: “What?”

“You can have my eyes,” Arthur repeats, steadier, surer of himself. “If you’d like. Perhaps when we’re here, in the house, I could … we could separate, as you’re able to exist on your own, but for the rest of it … I’m willing to be this for you. Your way to be a part of the world outside of this place.”

“You’re … you’re sure?” John sounds hesitant. “Arthur, this isn’t a decision that you should make lightly. Taking possession of your eyes the first time, it … it took most of my strength. I likely would not be able to do it again by force should you find some way to cast me out. But if you are willing, it…”

John trails off. “If you give me permission,” he says slowly, “I will be able to repossess you any time you are in this house. You cannot take it back. You may … you may come to regret it.”

“Maybe,” Arthur concedes. “Maybe not. But honestly, John, it’s been some time since I felt genuinely disquieted by your presence. Perhaps if you had some control over the rest of my body, I might feel differently, but even if I did come to regret it … my will and actions would still be my own.”

“But not your sight.”

“No, not my sight. In any case, it doesn’t matter, because I don’t believe I’ll regret it.”

“You cannot possibly know that.”

“No, but I know you.”

“Do you? We don’t even know my real name, Arthur. We know nothing about me.”

“I know that you like to read,” Arthur counters. “All kinds of books, but with a particular soft spot for adventure and happy endings. I know that your favorite spot in town is the bluffs overlooking the lake because you like the blue of the water and the way the wind stings your eyes when it’s strong enough. I know that your favorite flavor of ice cream is strawberry because, even though you can’t taste it, you like the color of it, the vibrant pink. I know that you snap when you’re upset or scared and that you regret hurtful things immediately after you say them but double down regardless because sometimes your conviction in yourself is all you have to defend yourself with. I know that you care about other people—the lady who lives next door whose flowers you admire, the elderly woman struggling with her groceries just the other day who you insisted we help, the young boy who nearly fell off the cliffs while chasing after his dog last week and would have done so had we not stopped him in time.

“And,” Arthur says, feeling all at once terribly vulnerable, “I know that you’re my friend. I trust you. You … you mean a lot to me, John. I can only hope that you may feel the same.”

There are a few beats of silence, during which Arthur worries his thumbs along the edges of the book pages. Then, softly: “You are my friend as well, Arthur. If you’re sure about this—"

“I am.”

“—then … all right.”

Arthur isn’t quite sure how to describe what happens then—a tingling feeling deep in his skull, a sensation not unlike that of falling off a very tall cliff. Then, between one blink and the next, his world—for so long nothing but nothingness—explodes into color so bright he’s blinded by it.

“Ah!” Arthur presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, but he can still see the light-shadow of the lamplight burned into his corneas. “Fucking hell, John.”

John chuckles, low and rumbling. “My apologies.”

“You might at least try to sound more convincing,” Arthur grouses. “Fuck. Where’s the switch? For the lamp.”

“To your left—no, your other left, Arthur. A bit higher—yes, you’ve got it.”

The lightbleed from behind his eyelids vanishes as he flicks the lamp off. Arthur tentatively opens his eyes again to darkness—not pure black like has been his reality for the past few months, but close enough that it’s familiar.

“Well?” John says. His voice sounds like it’s coming from everywhere at once yet also like he’s speaking directly into Arthur’s ear. It’s exactly the same as it’s always been, like nothing has changed at all, and Arthur smiles.

“Come on,” he says, standing up and heading toward the door that leads to the porch, where he knows John will be able to follow. “Let’s go look at the stars. Perhaps you can describe them to me.”

“But you’ll be able to see them yourself.”

“True.”

“Then why—”

“Humor me.” Arthur opens the door and steps out onto the porch. He sits on a wooden swinging bench set up near the edge, padded with worn pillows. They’d bought them second-hand a few weeks after John became Arthur’s eyes, so he’s never seen the faded, cherry-red hue in person. It’s somehow duller than he’d expected, and he doesn’t think it’s a consequence of the faintness of the moon and starlight. “Well?”

John sighs, in that exasperated way that Arthur knows by now hides fondness. “Fine. Above us lies the night sky, black at its center and tinged blue around the horizon where the light of the sun still bleeds into it. The stars are many, forming glittering white constellations that overlap one another and create an impression not unlike that of a river, or perhaps an ocean. To our left, a purple nebulous cloud can be seen, glowing a pale yellow near its center, like there is a great storm brewing somewhere deep in the cosmos. To our right lies…”

As John continues to speak, describing the world around him like it’s something wondrous, Arthur closes his eyes, tilts his head back, and smiles.

#malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolentfantasyweek #my writing #my fic

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

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caroldanvers ��😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years ago

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Give it time: ch4

Click here for chapter 1 Click here for chapter 2 Click here for chapter 3

A/N: It took a while, but here is the continuation of Give it time. For the people who requested it, don’t worry. This is not the last chapter! I think about writing one, maybe two more. This one is written from Thor’s point of view. Hope you like it!

Brother ‘Loki? What are you doing in Asgard?’ Thor asked surprised when he saw his younger brother walking through the hall.

‘It’s my home, so what do you think?’ Loki answered clearly irritated. Before Thor could answer he walked past. Thor had learned to let Loki be when he was in one of his moods, and went in search of his mother. He found her in the garden.

After he had greeted his mother properly he asked ‘What is wrong with Loki?’

Her smiled turned sad. ‘I only know that he and (Y/N) had a fight. Apparently she has gotten back together with her ex-boyfriend Steve? He was a bit cryptic and didn’t feel like talking about it. All I know that he is been in a foul mood, berating the staff, annoying your father and recently he started to drink and attend party’s… trying to find his happiness elsewhere’

‘What do you mean broke up? (Y/N) truly loved him, I didn’t even know she and Steve were together once’

‘This is all I know, he barely sleeps, is angry all the time, and I’m afraid he is planning something. I think it is best you go talk to him’ Frigga told him.

Thor hummed in agreement, and went to search for Loki. A task proven to be extremely difficult if his younger brother didn’t want to be found. It took him half the afternoon, but he finally found Loki sulking in his own private library.

‘Brother, what happened?’ Thor asked.

‘Go away, Thor. I’m not in the mood for you or the volume of your voice’ Loki snarled.

‘Tell me what happened, you’re miserable that is plain to see. Maybe I can help?’ Thor asked, ignoring his brother’s bad temper.

‘Thanks for the compliment, and no you can’t help me. Nobody can’ Loki answered.

‘Loki, just tell me’ Thor sighed. ‘If you do, I will leave you alone’ he added.

This got the attention of Loki. ‘Fine’ he said. And Loki explained his version of events. The past between Steven and (Y/N). How Steve has been setting (Y/N) up against him, how she is too naïve, how Steve practically admitted that he wanted her and how he walked in on them kissing each other. Thor listened to every word and kept his thoughts and questions to himself, letting Loki finish uninterrupted. After the story came to an end, he had to find the right words. Words and meanings were everything to Loki and he couldn’t mess this up. Not when Loki finally let him in.

When the silence endured Loki spoke first ‘You may take your leave now’ he grabbed one of his books and opened it halfway through.

‘What did (Y/N) say about all this?’ Thor asked, he wondered since he hadn’t heard anything about it.

‘We did not talk, I just left’ Loki said through gritted teeth.

‘And you haven’t had any contact with her since then?’ Thor asked.

‘No, weren’t you listening?’

‘Then how do you know if your version is true?’ he asked.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Loki asked.

‘If everything you say is true, then how do you know that she’s with Steve? That she loves him? I know her, and she was crazy about you. I just can’t believe that she would do this…’

‘I saw it’

Thor just chuckled a little ‘If there are two things I learned from growing up with you: one, pay very close attention to what you are actually saying and two, nothing is what is seems’

Loki smirked a little ‘That is because I’m a skilful sorcerer and the God of Lies’ then his smile faltered ‘It doesn’t matter anymore, this was all some time ago. By now she surely is with Steve, and I wish them a very unhappy life together’ he said while his attention shifted back to his book.

‘And what are you planning?’ Thor asked, remembering the words of his mother.

‘I may have thought about ways to kill Steve, but I’m not anymore. I’m just attending a party tonight. So, you can tell mother she’s worries for nothing’

‘It’s not like you to drink and attend parties. You always hated them’ Thor said a bit surprised.

‘Well yeah, but where else meet a girl for a night?’ Loki smirked.

‘Or you could come with me’ Thor said.

‘To where?’

‘Back to Midgard, to the Avengers. You can clear things up with (Y/N), because I’m not buying this story to be true. Plus, your still part of the team and can’t just leave whenever you feel like it’ Thor said.

‘No thanks’ Loki said.

‘Loki, you look like crap and knowing you, you probably feel worse. So, coming back can only improve your mood. If not, I promise I will let you attend ever party in Asgard and you can drink and fuck your problems away. But you will hate yourself if you didn’t at least hear her out’ Thor said angrily.

It took Loki aback a bit. He pondered over the question. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he then asked.

This took Thor aback. ‘Because you’re my brother and I want you to be happy’ he answered.

Loki clearly was struggling with not letting the emotion show on his face, Thor let him get away with it, it was what Loki needed at the moment.

‘But you don’t believe me?’ Loki asked after a while.

‘I do believe you, I just think there is more to the story. If it is the whole story we leave immediately, I promise’ Thor said.

‘Together?’ Loki asked.

‘Together, I got your back’ Thor confirmed. He got up and walked towards the exit of the library. He would have to prepare the journey to Midgard. He looked back when he heard Loki say ‘Thor… thanks brother’. Thor just smiled and nodded, but in his heart there was nothing but love for his little brother. Who, despite the way he could lash out, he loved very dearly and he knew that Loki cared about him, even if he didn’t always show it.

Back on Midgard The Bifrost opened and Thor and Loki stood in front of the familiar compound. Thor noticed that Loki used magic to make himself appear more together, but didn’t comment on it. The two of them walked in the tower. That’s when they heard Tony.

‘Thank God, latterly, that the two of you are finally here!’ he exclaimed.

‘Why, what’s wrong?’ Thor asked.

‘What’s wrong? (Y/N) is an absolute mess, she barely eats and doesn’t want to talk to anyone. I can’t believe you did that to her’ he looked accusingly at Loki.

‘I didn’t do anything, she was the one that kissed Steve’ Loki angrily replied.

‘Huh, what? You were the one that cheated on her. She broke when she found out about it’ Tony said.

Thor was confused. Yes, in the past Loki has betrayed the one’s he loved many times. But he always had a good reason, it was not like him to betray the woman he loved for a bit of fun.

‘WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?’ Loki snarled.

Tony grabbed his phone and showed them the video that Steve had showed him. It was Loki at some party in the compound, drinking and kissing with some other woman Thor didn’t recognize. Loki looked intently at the video. ‘That’s not me! How did you even get that?’ Loki asked.

‘Steve showed it to us’ Tony replied. While Loki was ranting on about Steve he and Tony started to discuss the realness of the video. Thor sneaked away and went in search of (Y/N). He knocked on her door, but there was no answer.

‘(Y/N), I’m coming in’ he said, hoping she was okay. He opened her room, which was still dark. (Y/N) lay under the covers, the air in the room didn’t smell fresh, and around her bed there were several empty bottles of wine.

‘(Y/N)?’ Thor asked. She suddenly turned around and faced him. She sat up straight. Thor could tell she had lost weight, probably from not eating. There were bags and dark circles under her eyes and her hair was greasy.

‘Leave’ she said angrily and Thor saw a hint of the fire that Loki used to love about her.

‘No, I think…’ but he was cut of by (Y/N) throwing an empty wine bottle towards him. It missed his head and broke against the wall, glass flying around the room. ‘LEAVE’ she half-yelled again.

‘I will leave when you talked to me, and I talked to you’ Thor said sternly. He looked her in her eyes, they seemed to be in some sort of staring contest. He could tell she was tired.

She sighed ‘Fine, but I don’t wan to hear a thing about your brother’ tears were already forming in her eyes.

‘Just tell me your version of events, and if it makes sense I promise that I will take Loki back to Asgard with me’ Thor said. Her eyes widened when she heard that Loki was here. For a moment she felt relieved, and wanted nothing more than to run towards him. Hoping he would wrap his arms around her and spin her around. But then she remembered the video Steve showed her about a month after Loki left. He tried to help her get over him, but it only made things worse.

When (Y/N) started to tell he story, Thor discovered that they didn’t add up, just as he expected. He couldn’t help but get angry at Steve for orchestrating this whole thing. He got so angry that a storm was brooding over the compound, something that hadn’t happen in a few hundred years. But now, he couldn’t control himself. He saw (Y/N) flinch when she heard the rumbling sound of thunder, but couldn’t help himself. She had finished her story and Thor was hallway through to explaining Loki’s version of it, when the door burst open.

Tony came running towards (Y/N) yelling ‘It’s deepfake, it’s deepfake!’ he was panting and couldn’t say anything more. That’s when he saw that (Y/N)’s eyes just notice done presence that was looming in the doorway, Loki.

Permanent taglist: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theestorm @theaudacitytowrite @justacripple

People who definitely needed the story to continue/commented on the other chapter (hope you don’t mind me tagging you!): @onlyforloki @not-your-bitch @lovelokiqueen @unicorns105 @phenelopejoy @elliemustdraw @lokiestorch

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ratmonky · 4 years ago

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Deceitful Curse

Word Count: 10K

Warnings: non-con, stalking, obsession, mild blood, chikan, gaslighting, manipulation, humiliation, degradation, misogyny, exhibitionism

AO3 Link

As promised, this will be a gift fic for my lovely friend @lyrrotting , I promise I will write your four armed Sukuna fic soon to make up for this shitty fic lol <3

It was said that most people had an angel sitting on their right shoulder and a devil sitting on their left shoulder, the two bickered into the person’s ears about many things. While the devil would try to tempt the person, the angel would become the sound of conscience.

However, Yuuji only had the King of Curses whispering in his ear and he himself had to be the voice of conscience within his own mind.

Certainly, there would be a time he would be tempted to listen.

~~~

Life was good, Yuuji had already graduated over a year ago and gotten his sorcerer license to work until his inevitable execution.

Life was good, everyone had moved on with their lives. Inumaki had gotten a girlfriend, Fushiguro had a girlfriend and from what he heard, Maki and Kugisaki were dating each other.

Life was good, they were all happy.

Life was good, everyone else was happy.

~~~

There was a new coffee shop that had opened just two blocks down from where he lived. Naturally, Yuuji wanted to check it out for the sole purpose of seeing how big the place was. When he invited his friends over to his place and if they ever stayed the night, he wanted to have a place he could take them to for a brunch or a cup of coffee.

Unfortunately for him, the place was small. There were barely a dozen tables and nobody seemingly wanted to sit at the cramped coffee shop when they could walk to the nearby park to enjoy their coffee.

The place was crowded due to rush hour so he returned a couple of hours later to finally order something.

As soon as he walked inside, the sugary smell of the sweets and the strong aroma of the coffee surrounded him.

“Welcome!” said a cheerful voice. It was you, beaming at him with the brightest smile he had ever seen on anyone. It looked too genuine to be a fake service worker's smile.

He hesitantly walked up to the counter with a blush coloring his cheeks from the intensity of your smile that was aimed towards him. “Hi,” he said before lifting his eyes up to the menu displays. “Ah.” He had no idea what to get. “Takeaway, I think, and ahh… Um…”

As if you noticed his struggle, you started talking. “If you like sweets I’d recommend my special summer drink. If you like coffee, I can give you the best brew in the whole city. It isn't strong but the aroma actually tastes like fresh coffee beans, I roast them fresh every day.” You were so bright, still smiling. Didn’t your cheeks hurt? How could anyone be this sweet? “Or I can choose a drink for you! Trust me, I’ll make it count!”

He understood none of the things you were saying but he felt like he could trust you to choose a drink for him, so he nodded approvingly.

Clapping your hands together, you walked behind the coffee machine and disappeared from his view. “You live around here?”

Yuuji was caught off guard and didn’t realize you were talking to him for a while until you repeated your question. “Ah, yes! I live around the corner.”

“I’ll do my best to impress you so you’ll buy coffee from here every day.” Your tone wasn’t flirty. It was friendly and inviting, actually welcoming.

“That’s a good business tactic,” he said, matching your tone. “But I’m not that easy to impress.”

“Isn’t my prices enough to impress you? They’re rather cheap for the service you get and I’m not even talking about the quality of my products.” You reappeared with a plastic coffee mug, it had ice and apparently black coffee in it. You poured some sort of golden cream over the coffee on the counter where he could see it.

Like hypnotized, Yuuji watched with his mouth wide open as the two colors mixed in a gradient effect in his drink before you put a lid on it.

“Was that good enough?” you asked, proudly. “To impress you I mean.”

“Y-yeah.” He reached and took the drink you set on the counter. He was carefully examining the colors in awe when he abruptly realized that he hadn’t even paid yet. Hastily he dug his hand in his pocket and took out his wallet, “I’ll come here more often I think if I like the drink of course.”

“Hmm, you’ll like it so I’m not worried.” You smiled as he paid with his credit card. “See you later…” Furrowing your burrows, you looked at him so he would fill in.

“Itadori,” he introduced himself, blushing. “Yuuji Itadori.”

“(name),” you said, offering a cute smile. “Have a nice day, Itadori.”

“Y-you too.” He waved awkwardly and you did the same with a giggle. It was clear that he was a little overwhelmed.

By the time Yuuji exited the shop, he hadn’t realized how hard he was blushing or how he had forgotten to even try his drink. Then he blushed even harder realizing how embarrassing he acted back in the shop but he shook his head to get over those thoughts.

Decidedly, he took a sip from his coffee and immediately understood why you were so confident that he would be back to buy more.

~~~

The next day, it wasn’t exactly the incredible coffee you had sold him yesterday that brought him here.

It was you.

He was trying to convince himself that wasn’t the case though.

However, Sukuna knew the truth.

~~~

“Being single sucks!” Yuuji complained with a whine after slamming his empty glass on the table.

“You should try those dating apps if you really want a girlfriend,” Fushiguro replied and flicked the ash off his cigarette on the ashtray.

“I agree, Itadori, if you really are determined to be in a relationship then you should try meeting new people.” Yuuta fanned the smoke Fushiguro blew towards him away using his hand with a forced smile.

Inumaki nodded in agreement, continuing to munch on the salted crackers and avoiding drinking.

“It’s easy for all of you with pretty girlfriends to say!” Panda cried, “It’s only me and Itadori who’s single.” He wrapped his big arms around Yuuji and started rocking back and forth.

“You can always book a flight to China to meet with a female Panda?” Yuuji said in a confused tone, “Or the zoo?”

Panda froze and loosened his arms around Yuuji before pushing him away from himself. “That was rude.”

“Huh?” Yuuji raised a brow, still confused.

“His type is more… humane, I think.” Yuuta scratched at his cheeks and raised his brows, hoping that Panda would deny what he just said but he didn’t.

“Wait.” Yuuji’s eyes widened, “So, you’re telling me that it would actually work between you and a human, or is it-”

“Itadori,” Fushiguro said to stop Yuuji from delving deeper into the uncomfortable topic. “Leave Panda’s love life alone.”

“Hmm, why did you bring up the topic of wanting to get a girlfriend?” Yuuta asked, humming thoughtfully. “Do you have someone you like?”

“Deja vu,” Panda mumbled under his breath, nobody heard him.

As soon as the question was asked to him, Yuuji thought of one single person; you. The image of your smile and your cheerful voice. It was just a simple crush, the two of you were total strangers. Yet, he was still thinking about you right now and couldn’t get you out of his mind.

He suppressed all of those thoughts and noticed how everyone was looking at him, waiting for his answer.

“No, I don’t,” Yuuji replied.

~~~

Unlike Sukuna, Yuuji was an inexperienced young man. He was a celibate too. Which meant that to him, sexual desires had to come after love. The feelings of love and affection were important when it came to sex. Having sex was an act of love and a form of affection, to prove to the person he was involved with that he was devoting himself to them.

Pathetic.

The kid had already grown up to be an adult but still had the mentality of a child.

Sukuna knew he could help.

~~~

“You’re coming here more often now,” Sukuna pointed out. “Is it because you know the server likes you?”

“No, she doesn’t like me,” Yuuji deadpanned. He pouted cutely seconds later and watched you walk over to his table holding a tray with his drink on it with a bright smile. “I’m here only because this place makes the best coffee.”

“Here you go,” you chirped, putting Yuuji’s drink on the table. Your friendly smile and gorgeous eyes wandered on his face for a moment longer than usual. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.” He was blushing.

You flashed him another stunning smile before turning around on your heels.

“She’s into you,” Sukuna declared.

Yuuji ignored Sukuna’s words and stared after you as you walked back to the counter to take another order. His eyes couldn’t leave the way your hips moved with each step you took.

Sukuna’s lips on Yuuji’s hand grinned before disappearing.

~~~

“The girl looks like her,” Sukuna said.

“Will you be quiet?” Yuuji groaned and slapped his cheek so he would go away.

It was silent, he smiled to himself. Finally, he had some privacy.

The porn actress spread her legs and Yuuji wrapped his left hand around his cock after licking his palm as he was holding his phone with his right. He slid his fist up along his length and squeezed tightly towards the tip. The pressure felt the best when he applied it to the sensitive tip.

Loud moans coming from the actress filled his apartment since he hadn’t bothered to put on headphones. Not that he needed them when he was living alone but it was a habit now. So, he lowered the volume.

However, there was another reason why he didn’t need to hear the moans of the actress.

“She doesn’t sound like her, does she?” Sukuna made fun of him.

Yuuji ignored him and didn’t bother to tell him that it wasn’t the case. He just needed to cum and go to bed, that was it. He was too used to Sukuna interrupting his self-care time at this point and if the King of Curses didn’t mind watching a guy jerk off to some cheap porn, so be it. They were sharing Yuuji’s body and mind. Or not?

Yuuji focused on the video as the girl bent over and started fingering herself in an awkward position. His hand around his cock started moving to match the way her fingers went in and out of her cunt.

She really looked like you.

Wasn’t that why he had chosen this video?

Nevermind. Forget about it.

He had read or heard somewhere that masturbating with the non-dominant hand could give more pleasure. It was something he had done when he was only a teenager to try it out but now he liked to use his left hand.

It felt different, sometimes his hand went numb and it felt like someone else was touching him. You were touching him.

You.

This had to be how a handjob felt, if you ever gave him a handjob it would definitely feel like this.

Yuuji dropped the phone and closed his eyes, only focusing on his fantasies about you while jerking himself off. His hand moved faster while his hips were desperately thrusting up as if to mimic fucking you.

You would tease him, wouldn’t you? Stare at him with a grin, edge him and even slow down just to make him whine.

Or perhaps you would get rid of your clothes hurriedly to ease yourself down on his cock. Were you a virgin? You would be his first, he would want you to be your first too.

Were you the type to whimper or moan during sex?

Where would you place your hands?

Would you move your hips?

Which position would make you lose yourself?

He would want to be on top, so he could watch your face and kiss you.

What kind of face would you make?

Would you be blushing and moaning?

The image of your eyes overflowing with tears while your face was being stained with the same tears and your ruined makeup appeared within his mind.

Yuuji abruptly came harder than he ever had in his whole life and his seed landed on his stomach, his orgasm left his legs shaking in pleasure.

~~~

He didn’t go to the coffee shop the day after from embarrassment.

~~~

“You weren’t here yesterday,” you remarked while making his drink. “I was sure you were going to be here after I made you my new drink on the menu.”

“Ahh, I was just busy and didn’t have time to swing by.” It was a simple lie and it wasn’t like he could ever tell you that he was scared of himself after he came to his fantasy of seeing you cry. “I didn’t think you’d miss me this much.”

“Well, you’re my only loyal customer,” you pouted and put his drink on the counter. Nobody else was in the shop, another coffee place had opened just around the corner. “You always drink my special brew coffee too. It’s like an honor to me that you like my coffee.”

“It’s the best coffee I’ve ever had,” his reply was instantaneous and honest. “I like this place, I can tell how much love you put into making your drinks and it feels cozy here.”

You were grinning, “Mm, tell me more. Praise me more. What else?”

He started smirking but his blush ruined the smug face he was making. “Never mind, you’re weirding me out.”

“Hey! I was just asking you what else you like about my place! What’s weird about wanting to know how I can make this place better?” you feigned anger.

He wanted to tell you that he was only coming here for you. Wait, no. He came here for the coffee. Nothing else.

“What about making new drinks every week? They’d sell more and you’d get to try out new things?” he said after careful thinking.

“That’s actually a good idea, thank you, Itadori!”

Ahh, the way you said his name… Yuuji wanted to hear you say his name again and again. Over and over again.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, rubbing his neck nervously with his hand. “I’m just trying to help.”

~~~

It started with small words of encouragement.

“That woman likes you, I can tell from the way she smiles at you. Talk to her more and befriend her.”

“It’s not like you to say nice things,” Yuuji said, averting his gaze from yours in embarrassment when you looked his way. He hoped you hadn’t caught him looking. “Besides, she’s just a server. It’s her job to attract customers with a smile and sweet talk.”

“Every server needs a master,” Sukuna spoke through Yuuji’s hand. Nobody could see him since the guy had his hand pressed against his ear. “She doesn’t look at you the same way she looks at the other peasants here.”

Yuuji didn’t say anything.

~~~

His finger hovered over the follow button.

”That’s her?” Sukuna asked, his ancient soul was getting used to the technology he saw his vessel was using. “Those are her pictures?”

“Yeah.” Yuuji gulped, nodding languidly. It would be weird if he followed you, right? He had found your account by chance. Not because he found the account of your coffee shop and then scrolled through the following list to find a friend of yours and then searched through their following list to find your name to eventually find your account. Only by chance.

“She looks different in the pictures.” Sukuna was right. You were smiling as usual but you weren’t wearing your cafe uniform. You were wearing normal clothes. Clothes that revealed more of your skin, your shoulders, legs, thighs, and in some pictures your cleavage. There was a smug look on your face when you were looking at the camera as if you knew whoever was looking at these pictures was admiring your beauty.

“Yeah, she does.” He was now looking at a picture of you in a dress that fit you just right, showing your curves he hadn’t noticed in your uniform.

“She’s beautiful.” Sukuna could sense the intensity of his vessel’s stare at your picture.

“Yeah.”

“I’d save that picture if I were you.” Sukuna grinned.

Yuuji took a screenshot.

~~~

“You should be more assertive if you want her to consider you as a man,” Sukuna said as Yuuji was walking towards the coffee shop. “Women like confident men.”

“You come from the ancient times, this is the new age. Women are equal with men and I want her to feel-”

“Women want men. Not boys. Definitely not brats like you.” Sukuna disappeared when his vessel entered the coffee shop.

Yuuji sighed in a dismissive manner, “Whatever you say.”

~~~

Women want men.

~~~

“What do women like in a man?” Yuuji asked.

The happy laughter of the guys died out as soon as he asked that and the loud chatter of the other people inside the bar couldn’t fill the dead silence Yuuji created.

They were all looking at each other around the table now. Nobody wanted to talk.

“I guess they like guys who are assertive,” Yuuta responded when no one else did. “Megumi, why don’t you say something? What does your girlfriend like about you?”

Fushiguro was inanimate as he stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray and took a long moment to consider what he was going to say. “She said that likes that I’m possessive and get jealous when she talks to other guys.”

“Hmm, possessive and jealous...” Yuuta nodded and then turned to Inumaki. “And your girlfriend liked that she can depend on you, right?”

“Salmon.”

“There you have it,” Yuuta concluded. “They like possessive guys who they can depend on!”

“What about you, Okkotsu?” Yuuji asked. “What does your girlfriend like about you?”

The person in question looked a little lost and taken aback that he was being asked. He had to take a deep breath to keep his facial expressions normal. “She likes that I take control.”

“How?” Yuuji was desperate.

“Isn’t that a bit invasive question, Itadori?” Fushiguro warned in a soft tone.

“It’s not invasive at all!” Yuuta forced a laugh and spoke in the same joking manner. “It means that I was a little pushy and bold, I think?”

Both Fushiguro and Inumaki started agreeing.

“I see.” Yuuji realized that Sukuna was right.

~~~

“Isn’t that her picture?”

Yuuji ignored him and continued rubbing his cock.

His hand started moving faster, his eyes were trained on the picture of you, eyes roaming on your body and imagining how it would feel to run his hands along your curves.

“She looks like she’d love taking it from her ass.”

“Shut up, she’s not like that!” he immediately protested. His cheeks were bright red from shame. He had never done it to the pictures of the people he had met. Only celebrities. It didn’t feel right.

“She’s a woman. I know what women want and like.” Sukuna was confident. “I know exactly what she wants, unlike you.”

Yuuji tried blocking out the curse’s voice in his head and tightened his grip as well as his pace. He was imagining you again, eyes full of tears and you were twisting your body to push him weakly away with your tiny hands as he took you from behind.

Thanks to that fantasy, he came in an instant.

~~~

Yuuji was a good guy.

He was sacrificing his life to save others every day and he was going to be executed for the sake of saving humanity from the curses.

He could never be the bad guy.

~~~

“Welcome,” you chirped as soon as he walked through the door. “The usual?”

Yuuji awkwardly smiled and bowed his head to greet you. “Y-yeah.”

“Had a good day?” Turning around, you walked away from the counter to reach the coffee machine, disappearing from his view.

Yuuji made his way towards the counter and tried recalling how his day had been. He had exorcised a couple of curses and even got the opportunity to catch up with Fushiguro and his girlfriend when they ran into each other downtown. To put it simply, his day had been the worst. “It was a good day, how was yours?”

Dumb.

You were only making small talk because he was a regular here, nothing more. He knew people who worked in small coffee shops like this were always friendly to attract customers, to give a sense of home to people who come here for a drink or the tasty sweets. It was a marketing strategy.

“My day was tiring. I took your advice and put a new drink on the menu but apparently, it’s really good because everyone wanted to try it. However, the thing is… it’s so hard to make it!!” You appeared in front of him again with his drink and pointed behind you, at the menu displays. “I ran out of strawberries twice and had to call to ask my friend to go buy some from the store for me.”

“Woah, that sounds really exhausting!” he said in a tone to match your own while you were making a cutesy pouting face. “Hmm.” There was a momentary pause as he took his coffee from you and grinned. “I changed my mind, I also want to try this incredibly hard-to-make drink too.”

Your shoulders slacked and you gave an exaggerated sigh. “I thought you of all people would pity me…”

“I’m known for being ruthless,” he joked, chuckling. The smile on his face was genuine and he couldn’t stop smiling, it was as if he could never be in a bad mood around you. “But yes, I was joking. No need to call a friend to buy more strawberries or anything.”

You pointed a finger at him with mock threat and anger. “Don’t make fun of me or I won’t serve you again.”

“That’s better than threatening to spit in my coffee.” He tilted his head and shrugged.

“You said it as if I don’t do it all the time.” You raised a brow.

Both of you laughed but once the joke died out, there was an awkward silence.

“Anyway,” you said, gesturing towards one of the tables you clearly had wiped and cleaned because you were getting ready to close the place. “You can take a seat there if you wanna, I sadly have to finish up cleaning.”

When he looked around he could see that there was a mop you were planning to use. He didn’t want to disturb you any longer. It would be weird if he sat down when you were desperately trying to close the shop for the night.

It was rude and you were only being polite to him.

“I’ll drink this on the way home,” Yuuji replied with a nervous grin, and the tension from your shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Have a good evening!” you chirped after him as he turned around his heels.

“You too!” He exited the shop.

“Coward,” Sukuna spat.

“Please, be quiet.” Not again. Not this devil again.

“You could’ve fucked her against that counter. She was all over you, begging for you to make a move.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.

“Be quiet, will you?” No. You were just an innocent girl. Someone who was nice to him because he came to buy coffee. He was just a customer.

“You, brat, are going to die as a celibate if you keep this up. Have you ever stick it inside a woman before? Do you have any idea of how heavenly a woman’s warmth is? The way they squirm and moan under you as they give you the look of an angel’s and beg for you to take it slow, cling onto you with tiny little hands-”

“Shut up!” Yuuji slammed the coffee on the concrete ground, his chest heaving in anger and frustration.

Some passersby stared at him and walked further away from where he was standing.

Sukuna disappeared with a smile.

Yuuji took a deep breath to calm himself.

~~~

The bells over the wooden door chimed, announcing his arrival.

“Hi!” you quickly yelled and appeared by the counter, your smile widened when you realized it was Yuuji. “The usual?”

“You don’t need to ask,” he replied, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He felt like himself in here, he felt at home.

“Did you have a good day?” you asked before disappearing behind the coffee machine.

“It was a bad day until I came here,” he said lumberingly, his cheeks flushed from nervousness. He was terrible at flirting.

You laughed, he couldn’t see your reaction but you sounded happy when you spoke. “Ahh, I’m glad I’m able to make you happy! It brings me joy when I manage to help others have a good day in one way or another!”

So kind and selfless.

The two of you were a perfect match.

Seconds later you were standing in front of him with his drink on top of the counter. “I hope you’ll have a great rest of the night, Itadori! I’m glad my coffee was able to help you feel better.”

He opened his mouth to say that it wasn’t the coffee that made him happy but he closed it when he realized how weird it would sound. “Thank you.”

~~~

“I like you and I think we should hang out sometime,” he said, smiling awkwardly. Seconds of silence passed and he slapped a hand on his face in embarrassment. After taking a deep breath he tried again. “Do you wanna go out for dinner this weekend?”

“You are acting like a brat,” Sukuna mocked. “Go up to her and tell her you to want to make her yours like a real man.”

Yuuji ignored him while staring at his reflection in the mirror and groaned. He hated when Sukuna said things that made sense.

His clothes were ironed and his hair was slicked back with the hair gel he had bought in a rush.

“You look pathetic.” Brutally honest, Sukuna’s voice had a tone of embarrassment in it. He was ashamed of living inside him.

“I look good.” Yuuji wasn’t going to let him ruin this moment. He was going to prove to everyone else that he could get the girl if he acted like himself. There was no need to be pretending something he wasn’t when it came to you. He knew you would want him to be honest.

“She’s going to reject you, brat. Don’t ridicule yourself and take my advice.”

“What’s your advice?” Yuuji scoffed, “Manhandle her?”

“You’re feeling the instinct of mating and lust,” Sukuna said. “You want to fuck her, you don’t want to make love to her or whatever the humans call it.”

“What?” Yuuji forced a smile on his face and laughed hysterically, “Are you even hearing what you’re saying?”

“Love isn’t real. Obsession, lust, and devotion are real though. You want to breed her. Don’t mix up libido with what peasants would call love.”

There was a grim pause.

“I like her,” Yuuji said. “She’s pretty and she seems like a nice person. Her smile is cute and-”

“Do whatever you want, brat,” Sukuna yawned, getting ready to disappear from Yuuji’s cheek. “Try not to throw a tantrum when you get rejected.”

“You were the one who told me to go up to her and make her mine?” Frustrated, Yuuji rolled his eyes in irritation.

“Making some woman yours doesn’t mean to woo her or make love to her. Are all brats the same as you? Don’t you know that women are pleasure dolls for men? They live to please men.” Sukuna was getting serious, he raised his voice with each sentence. “Women are like fish, they don’t have feelings.”

“That’s not true.” Yuuji’s voice got a little weaker than he had intended to. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t sound like he was denying what Sukuna had said and trying to convince himself that wasn’t the truth instead.

Sukuna disappeared from his cheek with a malicious grin.

Shaking his head to gather his thoughts, Yuuji quickly walked out of his room and exited his apartment.

It took him twenty minutes to get to the coffee shop when it usually took him barely ten minutes. He had gotten flowers for you. Not really sure which ones to get, he had chosen one of the pink and red bouquets on display. He was nervous and sweating. He had to wipe his palms down on his jeans to keep them dry way too many times, he had stopped counting after the seventh time.

He stood outside of the cafe, trembling in excitement. There weren't any windows at your coffee shop thus he couldn’t see if there were any customers inside. He could only hope that it would be just the two of you alone since there was something very special he needed to tell you.

I love you.

He grabbed the handle and opened the door. You were behind the counter, looking down at your phone. As soon as the bells over the door chimed you put it away and smiled, “Welcome!”

I love you.

Yuuji’s grip tightened around the bouquet he was holding, his cheeks started burning in nervousness.

“Woahh, you’re going on a date?” you asked while he walked up to the counter, your voice was as cheerful as ever. “I couldn’t recognize you, should I give you the usual?”

“Uhh, no.” He paused. When both of you stared at each other he realized how awkward and confusing his answer was. “Um, it’s not a date but I’m gonna ask the girl I like out.” His face was turning beet red.

“Aww, that’s so adorable! She’s so lucky, you’ve even bought her flowers, so cutee!!” You pressed a hand over your chest, feigning being hurt. “Ahh, my heart can’t handle it.”

“Y-yeah.” He blushed harder, shifting his weight on his feet nervously. “She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“You better treat her right then and I hope she’ll say yes.” You didn't miss the eyes on you and continued smiling in discomfort. “The usual?” you asked once it started getting a little too quiet and he nodded.

The uncomfortable silence started making Yuuji reconsider what to say or if he should say them at all. You put his coffee on the counter before he could take his time thinking.

“Is that all?” you asked as you were putting his order’s total into the cash register.

I love you.

“N-no,” he replied in a quiet voice while reluctantly taking out his wallet to pay for his coffee.

“I hope you have a lovely night, Itadori. Go get the girl!” you cheered him on with a cute smile.

“Actually,” he started, looking at you with his flushed cheeks and fidgeting with his fingers. “Ahh, (name), I wanted to tell you something.”

“Hmm, what is it?” You were smiling, watching him in confusion.

Yuuji decided that he shouldn’t beat around the bush at this moment because he wanted to seem confident. He knew if he didn’t spit it out now or else he would never say it. He had to get to the point and dive in ahead without any hesitation.

“I like you.”

Lifting the bouquet, he held it up towards you as you looked at him and then at the bouquet repeatedly with wide eyes but you didn’t seem shocked.

You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again.

“I mean, you’re such a nice person and I found myself always looking forward to seeing you. I think about you all the time and I can’t get you out of my head. I used to hate it here, it’s a large city with too many people… but then you took over this shop, and now I… don’t hate it that much.”

He was saying all that with a puffed chest and a big goofy grin on his face, his cheeks were blushing as he tried not to look nervous. However, when he saw the way your smile curled down to a frown as he kept on talking, it felt like someone poured iced water down his head.

Yuuji couldn’t breathe.

“Um, that’s flattering,” you said, forcing a smile on your face and taking the bouquet from him. “Were these for me?”

“Y-yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

You nodded languidly, noticing that you were the girl he wanted to ask out. “I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You couldn’t find the words that wouldn’t hurt him.

Gradually, he noticed how uncomfortable you looked and his smile disappeared from his face.

“I’m sorry but I’m not looking for a relationship, I’m really busy with working and taking care of this cafe but I appreciate your feelings.” You averted your gaze from him for a moment, a scoff left your lips. Were you laughing at him? “I apologize if my affable demeanor gave you the wrong idea but sadly I can’t return your feelings.”

He looked down to his feet to pull himself together, an icy shiver ran through him as he spoke. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

So childish.

“Of course,” you said, forcing a chuckle.

“I hope we can still be friends, I wouldn’t wanna lose you.” Yuuji was desperate, he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

“Of course!” you repeated with a louder forced chuckle. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship!”

“Me neither.” He couldn’t lift his head or move, his body had turned to stone.

The pauses started to grow longer and eerily quiet. You were the one who spoke next.

“Thank you so much, Itadori, I’m flattered by your confession and I hope we can be close friends!” Pressing the bouquet on your chest and hugging it with both arms, you used a soft tone to talk to him. “I need to close down and catch the train home, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah…” Yuuji turned around and walked out of the cafe without saying anything else, leaving the coffee he had paid for on the counter.

“I told you, didn’t I, brat?” Sukuna mocked, voice full of mischief as he appeared on his vessel’s cheek.

“Leave me alone,” Yuuji hissed. He was walking away from the coffee shop, not going home though, not yet. He needed to calm down.

“Women want to be ordered around, brat. They want men to take control. If you act like a brat, they won’t see you as a man.”

Yuuji’s breath hitched upon hearing Sukuna’s words. His knees started feeling weaker than they ever could but he had to stand proud, assert his dominance over the King of Curses and collect himself.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that he was in this situation, it wasn’t fair that he was rejected, it wasn’t fair that he was cursed to live in despair. He was eventually going to get executed and he hadn’t had a youth where he fulfilled any of his dreams. He had wanted only one thing, to feel happy with one person and that childish wish must have been too much to ask. Not only he got rejected but now he had Sukuna making fun of him.

“You must be a man and make her yours.”

“She told me she didn’t want a relationship.” Yuuji couldn’t deal with him anymore. “We’re friends.”

“Do you want a woman for yourself or not, brat?” Sukuna sighed in irritation before humming thoughtfully. “I’ll help you,” he offered generously, “I’ll help you make her yours.”

“Leave me alone, Sukuna.” Yuuji was getting angrier, and soon he started to tremble in rage.

“Let me help you to get a taste of a woman, brat.”

“She rejected me-”

“She’s just playing hard to get. A woman like her wants to be chased. She didn’t tell you to get lost because she wants you to keep coming back to her so you’ll continue to give her your attention. That girl would spread her legs for anyone who gives her attention if she wasn’t a prude. She’s a virgin, that must be why she’s acting like this. I can smell it, the blood that’s yet to bleed once her innocence is taken. You need to take it, brat.”

“You want me to rape her, is that it?” Yuuji spat, he had never thought he would say those words out loud.

“I never said that, brat.” Sukuna let out a chuckle, lying. “Let me show you what I mean.”

“I’m not letting you take over my body,” he replied coldly.

“I don’t want to take over your body, that woman is yours,” Sukuna assured.

“Then, what do you want me to do?” Yuuji asked.

Sukuna grinned viciously, “Let's go back to where she works first.”

~~~

“Itadori-”

The door closed after him with a soft click.

You let out a frustrated sigh and pressed the bouquet against your chest, hugging them tightly.

That hadn’t gone well at all.

Your eyes landed on the coffee he forgot to take with him on the counter. “I’m the worst,” mumbling, you put the flowers on the counter to prepare the cafe for closing.

You took the paper coffee mug and poured it out, the dark liquid went down the sink as you watched, hypnotized and lost in your thoughts.

That guy… He wasn’t like any other you met. He was adorable and matched your energy like no other person ever had. You enjoyed being around Itadori and you were glad he felt the same but… he knew you for less than two weeks. He was clearly confused, he had made a friend who he managed to click instantly and mistook his feelings for love.

Nonetheless, you felt terrible. It was never easy to reject someone, especially when you were so busy trying to manage the coffee shop of your dreams you finally got to open.

Itadori had to understand that. He would understand, right?

Oh, he had looked so excited and nervous. He had even slicked his messy hair back and brought flowers…

You hoped he would get over it quickly or at least, he would come to the shop tomorrow so you could comfort him. The two of you needed to talk a little more, you needed for him to know that you didn’t want to break his heart. You felt the need to apologize, ahh, so stupid. You hadn’t even done anything wrong.

It hurt though.

It still hurt.

You hated making other people feel bad. You wanted to be the reason behind their smiles and laughter, not tears.

Packing your stuff and turning off the lights, you left the shop. The door was locked two times as usual before you hurried down the street towards the subway.

The station was packed more than usual and you immediately regretted not listening to your friend’s advice on renting that one apartment down the block. But complaining right now wasn’t going to get you home.

You hopped on the train and shielded the bouquet with your arms wrapped around it as you tried not to get crushed by the swarm of people getting on the train. Once the doors closed, you had successfully managed to find a place by the train door with a little space so you could avoid getting the bouquet crushed.

Facing the doors, you stared out the small window, it was dark but every second or another a light would zoom in and out. You weren’t sure if they were there for navigating or not but you found yourself too focused on the lights as the sudden brake of the train made you stumble forward.

When you regained your balance to stand up straight, there was someone behind you. They were a little too close but it was nothing out of the ordinary, you always found yourself being pressed against other people during rush hours in the subway.

At the next stop, the doors on the opposite side opened and another swarm of people filled the train. Now, the person behind you was trapping you between their body and the door that was in front of you.

You were showing extra carefulness to not let the bouquet get crushed, you wanted to take it home in one piece without anything happening to it. These flowers were beautiful, they smelled amazing too. You wanted to cherish them even if you hadn’t managed to cherish Itadori’s feelings.

As you were inspecting the bouquet you saw a small card that was attached to one of the flowers. You checked it and realized what it was.

It was Itadori’s phone number and a cute little heart drawn next to it with a small message.

‘I’d love to hear more of your voice and complaints about work in private!!’

You didn’t realize you were smiling at the note until something brought you out of your trance.

A voice to be exact.

“Your lover got them to you?” A husky voice asked.

Lifting your head, you stared at the small window. From the almost transparent reflection on the window, you could see that the guy behind you had talked. You couldn’t see his face from his hoodie covering his features but you could tell that he was talking to you.

“Um, not really,” you replied. It wasn’t abnormal to you that other people made small talk to you, you talked to strangers more than anyone else every day. You always overshared anyway. “They are from a close friend.”

“He must love you.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.

You forced a chuckle, looking down in front of you. “Y-yeah.”

When the train braked abruptly, he got closer. “Touch her-” It was a whisper from the same guy, you were unable to make out the words clearly but you decided to ignore him for the rest of the ride. You needed to get off in twenty minutes and were too tired to act friendly.

That was when you felt the back of his hand brushing against your ass.

You froze, before you could call it an accident and blame it on the crowded train, he pressed the back of his hand more purposefully on the soft flesh.

Fear paralyzed your body and you found yourself at a loss of words. You didn’t know what to do, you wanted to move away but you were trapped between him and the door.

“You’re not gonna ask for help?” he asked, leaning forward to mock you.

It was too humiliating and you were unable to think of anything. Somehow, you shook your head to tell him to stop because your voice wouldn’t come out. You pressed the bouquet harder against your chest in panic, praying to whoever was listening that the guy would stop.

You heard him say something but every other voice was muffled now, it was as if your ears were filled with cotton.

The only thing you did was to hope that you could muster up the courage to push him away and get out on the next stop.

Why was this happening to you?

Why?

“See, I told you.” Sukuna scoffed as Yuuji’s entire face was beet red. “She’s not even gonna ask for help because she wants you to continue.”

Yuuji saw your blushed cheeks in the reflection in the window, you were breathing heavily and standing still.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

When Sukuna convinced him to follow you into the subway train and let him do the talking, he was conflicted because he wasn’t sure what the King of Curses wanted to prove but now, he knew.

“Women live to be conquered by men,” Sukuna concluded, “Do you understand it now or should I elaborate more?”

Yuuji was quiet.

“She’ll bend down and beg for you to fuck her right now if you continue touching her.”

You wouldn’t.

Right?

Using his whole hand, Yuuji groped your ass while trembling from dismay but he couldn’t forethought the way you reacted being anything other than screaming for help or pushing him away.

Instead of fighting back or doing anything he had thought you would, you mewled and stayed exactly where you were.

They were all right.

Fushiguro, Inumaki and Yuuta. They were all right.

Sukuna was more than right. He had been trying to help him but Yuuji was too blind to see it.

“Check her cunt, I bet she’s soaking wet.” Sukuna had said to mock his vessel. He didn’t expect for him to move his hand between your legs and under your skirt to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. Neither did you.

Letting out a squeal, you hunched forward, pressing your legs together in panic as his digits moved along your clothed slit that was completely damp.

He started rubbing his fingers between your folds, your juices soaked your panties and made sloppy sounds each time he moved his digits.

“I can hear it from here, did you wet yourself, or are you this wet for me?” Sukuna laughed audibly.

You shook your head, slouching further down and trying to move away from Yuuji’s hands.

“Women aren’t good liars,” Sukuna said as Yuuji slouched forward with you and pressed himself against your ass. “You’re aching to have a cock inside you, no?”

“Please,” you begged. You wanted him to stop.

“Oh, look, she’s asking so politely to be filled with a cock.” Sukuna made fun of your misery while watching the brat finally grow into a man.

Yuuji was sure Sukuna had taken over his body because he would never hump the girl he liked as he was fingering her over her clothes in a train. In public, he reminded himself, in a train and in public where nobody seemed to care.

His hands were moving on their own, he hooked a finger under the elastic edge of your panties to pull them to the side.

“W-wait, please,” you whispered in a weak voice, finally using a hand to grab his wrist to try to pull him away from your pussy. You weren’t strong or convincing enough though.

Yuuji slipped his fingers inside you and grinded his growing erection against your ass, earning a surprised moan out of you.

The hand that was grabbing his wrist immediately went to cover your mouth to suppress your voice as he started humping you to deliberately mimic fucking you.

“Please, stop…” Your voice was fainter than a whisper behind your hand.

“You say that but you’re pitifully trembling in anticipation.” His lips were brushing against the shell of your ear but it was as if he wasn’t using his mouth to talk.

“I’m not…” You pressed your legs together and trapped his hand between your thighs while he twirled his digits around inside you.

“Lying isn’t cute, you know.” There was a smile in his deep voice, “Come on try harder to lie and make me believe you don’t want it.” He dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, earning a surprised but muffled moan from you.

Yuuji brought his other hand up to cup your breast over your shirt, his cock was painfully hard against his jeans, and the knowledge of him touching his crush was too much for him to handle. He could cum in his pants if he wasn’t careful enough. Sukuna was saying the most vulgar things to you but instead of pushing him away, you were staying exactly where you were. It was fascinating to see how much you were begging to be touched.

It disturbed him a little, would you let any stranger touch you like this? Would you be this wet for anyone?

Yuuji didn’t want to know the answer but Sukuna did.

“Come on, be honest. Would you be this keen to be fucked by any man or is it because it’s me?” Sukuna asked, he was barely holding himself to switch with the brat, he loved corrupting innocent souls like you. He loved seeing the painful and pathetic cries they would let out as their faces were stained with tears.

You shook your head rapidly as his fingers inside you curled to rub a sweet spot you didn’t know existed.

“So, does that mean you wouldn’t want to be fucked by anyone but me?” Sukuna laughed while Yuuji let out a low groan, grinding harder against your ass, humping you roughly.

“N-nooo,” you were sobbing now, tears started running down your cheeks.

“Good girl… You’re finally being honest. You hear that? She would never want to be fucked by anyone but me.”

“T-that’s not what I meant…”

It was fun to tease girls like you. Sukuna could feel your fear and took incredible joy from hearing your voice crack. “Now, that’s cute… I wanna hear you cry out my name in your cute voice too.”

Yuuji groaned, shaking his head as if Sukuna was going to listen to him.

“S-Sukuna,” he mocked your crying. “Come on, say it just like that and beg for me to fuck you.”

Your body was shaking in fear, your cries only spurred him on and you didn’t know what to do. “P-please stop, S-Sukuna.” The way you whimpered his name, there was no way Sukuna could hold back.

“You better take her innocence before I do it myself, brat.” Sukuna was a man of his word, he had promised the brat to not touch you but if he didn’t man up and fucked you here, he would have no choice but to do it himself. He would never let a girl’s innocence go to waste. The blood of purity was something holy for curses like him. It was the nectar of the gods from the most ancient times, something that could only be attained by the perfect innocent virgins.

“Don’t you dare,” Yuuji spat, speaking for the first time. “She’s mine.”

You didn’t hear him though. His fingers were thrusting in and out of you vigorously while he was humping you and fondling your tit. Your walls clenched around his digits as he moved his hand on your chest between your bodies to impatiently pull the front of his pants down.

Realizing what was about to happen when he finally pulled his cock free and hiked your skirt up, you stared at your reflection on the window, crying and begging him to stop.

Yuuji froze momentarily, pulling his fingers out of you. He could see your expression in the window but you couldn’t see his face. He was stunned by seeing your cheeks wet with tears and mascara running down to ruin more of your makeup, it was… it was purely so erotic and better than his fantasies.

He slammed his hips forward and buried the entire length of his cock in your pussy.

Your virgin walls squeezed tightly around him and the sharp pain of your hymen being torn made fresh tears run down your cheeks. Your hand covering your mouth went to the door in front of you to keep your balance because of the ferocity of his thrust. Your lips parted to scream in pain but his fingers being shoved inside your mouth stopped you.

You tasted your bitter juices on his fingers as he twirled them around your tongue, catching the muscle between his knuckles.

Yuuji felt lightheaded by the fact that he was actually having sex with his crush, on top of all that, you were both each others’ first. He knew he was going to cherish this memory forever and even though he would have liked to do it in a bed with the lights off, this was fine too.

It didn’t matter where he was as long as he had his cock inside of you.

With a moan, he staggeringly pulled his hips back to abruptly slam into your pussy. The blood of your innocence acted as a lubricant, made it easier for him to slip inside, and made a sloppy sound each time he thrust inside.

You could feel his entire weight settle on your back while he nuzzled against the side of your neck before he shakily licked the sensitive skin to get a taste of you. Instinctively, you tried moving your head away from his mouth but his fingers in your mouth prevented you. To put it simply, you were trapped and were at his mercy.

He picked up a discreet but still desperate pace to fuck you, he was still cautious of the two of you being in public but he was still delirious to be having sex with you. Sex. Did it always feel this good? Were you feeling good too? You wanted it, he knew you did because you told Sukuna you wanted it.

Slamming his hips forward, he knocked the air out of your lungs, you gasped on his fingers, drooling all over yourself from having your mouth forcefully kept open by his long digits.

Yuuji was hopeless to mark his territory, to mark you as his. He wanted everyone to know that you belonged to someone when they looked at you. You were his and only his.

His cock grew bigger inside you at the thought of him owning you. He started fucking you frantically, no longer bothering if the people around had noticed or not. Your cunt tightened around his cock and you felt his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck. He bit hard, hard enough to draw blood and leave you trembling in numbing pain.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the tip of his cock hit a sweet spot and your legs shook uncontrollably under you, they were struggling to carry your weight.

His teeth sank deeper into your flesh and you dropped the bouquet you were holding against your chest to involuntarily arch your back instead. He chewed on your skin as he felt your virgin walls pulsate around his cock, you were begging to be filled with his seed, weren’t you?

Women were nothing but a bunch of breeding holes anyway. They all acted like innocent angels when deep down they all were whores. Pleasure toys for men. They lived to please men, didn’t they?

You lived to please Yuuji, didn’t you?

Yuuji pulled his hand out from your mouth and stopped biting you. He licked the blood from your neck to focus on fucking you with frenzied thrusts instead. All of his inexperience and desperation were behind his thrusts, along with his entire weight, forcing you to take the very shape of his cock and never forget the girth of it.

Continuing to peppering small kisses on your neck, he started angling his hips just right to hit the spot that made your knees unbuckle. One, two, three thrusts, and your legs were a shaking mess. You moaned in response before he wrapped an arm around you to keep you up on your feet.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Sukuna spoke suddenly, startling both of you. “You shouldn’t hold back anymore.”

Yuuji wasn't sure which one of you he was talking to but he kept on nodding and moving his hips.

“Nobody else is going to hear you, give me an honest answer,” Sukuna was chuckling. “How does it feel?”

How does it feel to be fucked?

How does it feel to be fucked on a train?

How does it feel to be fucked in public?

How does it feel to have your innocence taken away?

How does it feel to indulge the darker parts of your mind?

Yuuji’s hips stuttered when your walls clenched around him tightly as you refused to answer.

“I won’t know how it feels if you don’t tell me, (name).”

Your mouth popped open and you moaned upon hearing your name. How did he know your name?

As soon as he thrust into your pussy, you forgot about it and let out a moan.

Were you always this depraved?

He continued fucking you frantically. His pace was faster and more ruthless, he was close. With each thrust of his hips, he left you moaning in involuntary pleasure but there was no denying that it felt good.

It felt so good.

“Tell me, (name).”

It felt so good.

“Come on, tell me.”

“Please,” you begged. It feels so good. Feels so good.

“That’s not what I wanna hear,” Sukuna murmured. “Come on now.”

The automated voice announced the next stop.

“Hurry it up already.” He was getting impatient.

“It feels so good,” you whimpered, defeated.

“Good girl,” Sukuna grinned before disappearing from Yuuji’s cheek.

The shame overwhelmed all of your senses and you looked at your reflection in the window once more, you caught a glimpse of your aroused expression. You were such a whore.

Yuuji slammed his hips forward one last time and you felt the small twitch of his balls against your skin before his cock twitched, spurting thick ropes of cum inside you.

The train stopped and he pulled out of you.

His seed started gushing out of your pussy before starting to trickle down your legs. Most of the bodily fluid had pooled under you and when you fell hard on the ground, they soaked into your skirt.

The guy who assaulted you was nowhere to be seen as the doors of the train on the other side opened. Many people hopped off the train but nobody paid any attention to you and you were sure they had been oblivious to what had happened. Nobody would care anyway.

A sob tore out of you and you tried getting up. Your legs were like jelly but as you managed to stand up, you noticed the bouquet you had dropped. More tears started to come out, they blurred your vision and you found yourself grabbing it from the ground.

Thankfully, it wasn’t crushed.

The train doors closed and it started moving forward while you were trying to fix your skirt.

Ah, that was your stop…

You sobbed again but pressed a hand over your mouth to not disturb anyone. Your crying didn’t stop even after you got off of the train on the next stop. You wanted to call someone to help you get back home because you weren’t sure if you could make it alone. Your legs were hurt, the throbbing pain coming from between your legs wouldn’t let you walk or stand up.

You weren’t going to tell them what had happened. Nobody could know. You didn’t need their pity. You were too ashamed.

Sitting on a bench, you scrolled down your contacts but none of the names there would help you. Not unless they had something to gain from it. Wasn’t that why you dropped everything and moved here to open a coffee shop?

How pathetic of you.

People only used you for your kindness.

You shifted on your seat and something slipped out from the bouquet. When you picked it up, you noticed that it was the note Itadori had written for you.

There was an ugly pause before you dialed the unknown number and a familiar voice responded.

“Hey,” he sounded awkward. Of course, he would, you rejected him. “What’s up?”

“Itadori,” you whimpered, voice cracking. Immediately, you cursed yourself for being this pathetic.

“A-are you o-okay? W-what happened?”

Bursting into tears once again, you only told him that you only needed help in shame after clearing your throat.

It took him barely fifteen minutes to arrive at the station to get you. You wiped your tears as soon as he came into your view. He was breathless, face beet red from running.

“You okay?” he asked in between breaths. “I ran here as fast as I could.”

He ran here.

Has anyone cared for you this much?

“Yeah, thank you and ahh, I… This is embarrassing… I twisted my ankle and needed help getting home.” You were never a good liar but you hoped he was gullible enough to believe it. “I know it’s weird to call you here but none of my friends would come if I called-”

“Ah, it’s no problem!” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and chuckled. He had been worried for nothing. “I can carry you, that’s what friends are for, right?!”

You nodded and bit your lip to prevent yourself from crying. He was too kind. Too similar to you.

“Want me to carry you on my back? Or like this?” He emphasized his words by holding his hands in front of himself to show you that he was offering to carry you bridal style.

“Yeah, that would be better.” You masked the shame with a fake smile. You were embarrassed that you were pathetic to ask him for help even after you rejected him earlier tonight.

He smiled and took a step closer towards the bench. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his arm under the back of your knees and placed a hand on your back to support you as he lifted you up to take you home.

You were grateful that you had a friend like him in your life.

~~~

The next day Yuuji came to the coffee shop to take your offer from the last night about giving him a free coffee drink of his choice.

You served him his coffee with a smile and sat with him on one of the tables, talking about your day as he listened to you complain.

In the end, Sukuna was right, Yuuji realized.

Women were begging to be fucked. Women secretly wanted it and that was why you were acting indifferent after all that happened the day before.

He had been worried over nothing, besides, he needed to be more confident and assertive like everyone told him to be. Then he would get the girl. That was what every article he read online, all of his friends and people around him told him. That was what Sukuna told him.

“Wanna go get dinner after you close the place?” he asked, taking a mouthful of his coffee.

“I need to clean and it might take a long while-”

“I’ll help,” he replied, smiling. “Everything’s on me.”

How could you say no to that? How could you say no to anything he had to say?

In your eyes, he was the nicest guy in the world.

Were you really going to pass on the opportunity to have him in your life?

“It’s a date then?” You were grinning, cheeks flushing as you said it. Slowly, you placed your hand over his on the table.

Yuuji gave you a blank stare, something sinister sparkled deep within his eyes but you couldn’t see it. Unbeknownst to you, his other hand under the table had a mouth on it that had an unsettling grin on it too. It was funny how clueless you were. Nonetheless, Yuuji took your hand in his to give you a reassuring squeeze and made you blush harder before agreeing, “It’s a date.”

#idk if i should tag this with the characters tbh this was too dark for me...#i won't tag it cuz i don't want anyone reading this lmao anywayy #i know my endings suck but yeah <3 #panda x munkey fic coming up next <333 #anywayyyy going inactive again byeeee <3

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imerdwarf · 4 years ago

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You're Worth Saving

Requested by anonymous: Hello you wonderful person! I dare to send in another Buck request, because COME ON HE'S SO LOVELY! ok ok, so maybe where you're also an avenger but you are really silent and distant to everyone (not shy, but alone with your mind), so it happens that buck wants to pull you out of this hole cause he knows how you feel and in the end he succeeds and the teams sees you smile for like the first time since you joined them and they're happy? Gosh i hope this is not weird.

Pairing: Bucky X Avenger!Reader

Warnings: soft!Bucky, introvertism, happy ending 💜

Author's Notes: Hello YOU wonderful sweet anon! How are you doing today? I hope you're doing great. Thank you so much for sending me this wonderful request, I really hope you like it and please feel free to send in more requests at anytime! 💜 Please let me know if you like or hate this, I'll be happy to rewrite it 💜🥺

Divider was made by me 🥰

Your mind was such a beautiful distraction. It's a place where unimaginable scenarios would be stored just for you to be able to stare at a blank wall and dwell heavily on them. Living 99% of the time in your head became a little dangerous but it was a much happier place than reality.

The team would often find you in this daze like state where you'd just stare at the wall ahead without blinking sometimes. They would try to coax you out of it by asking a question, a question you would ignore because you didn't hear them. Their voices were silenced, a contrast to how loud they were in your head.

Nobody really knew why you were like this. It's been this way since you arrived at the compound months ago. You kept to yourself, ate by yourself, worked out when everyone else was either watching movies or asleep, and you would just keep silent. Even on missions, you never spoke a word.

The team were actually very worried about your well-being, as clearly this was not natural. For the first time since the civil war broke out, Steve and Tony were actually in agreement about bringing a psychiatrist in to help you until Bucky intervened and wanted to help you himself first.

Bucky would have considered himself a professional by now. He knows what it's like not to fit in anywhere, how easy it was to feel so out of place. He understood more than any psychiatrist what a better and safer world it was inside your mind.

"Buck you can't help them. Y/N is too far gone." Steve spoke regrettably, sadness evident in his tone. He believed they failed you from the beginning and it was easy for Steve to take the blame so nobody else would have to feel guilty.

Bucky shook his head before he ran a hand through his hair, scratching at the root before letting it drop down by his side again. "I have to try Steve. I've been there before, I know what they are going through. Trust me."

Steve sighed, knowing he wouldn't have won the fight. Bucky was determined and it was impossible to change his mind about anything.

"I do Buck. Just bring them back to us, please."

With Steve's permission granted, Bucky wasted no time in getting to work. He started off being as subtle as possible by sitting as close as he could to you on the couch. The goosebumps that pebbled your skin when his knee brushed your leg gave him a lot of hope, that you were in there somewhere.

Bucky was hopeful he was getting somewhere with you. Because each time he took a seat next to you, you'd angle your body to face him and wait for him to start talking about his favourite movies, his favourite songs, his new profound hobbies he's been getting into lately. Your eyes would glisten with hope that you were actually listening to him. And you were, you paid great attention and everything he told you, about the Hobbit struck a chord in your heart. You had felt so lost for so long that even you were worried you might not be here anymore.

Then a few days later, he started to talk to you like a normal person. He would talk about his favourite books and why he liked them so much. He loved The Hobbit series because of the adventure Bilbo goes on and how easy it was for the words to suck you into the story. How easy it was to forget how to cope with real life.

"Bilbo goes on an adventure of a lifetime and sometimes as the road gets tough, he regrets it but he knows there is something worth waiting for at the end of it, he knows there is something worth saving. He meets new friends and they stick with him the whole time." The emotion in Bucky's voice rang home for you. "There's always something to live for. Bilbo never gave up and neither should you because I'm with you till the end of the line."

You knew he was saying 'if Bilbo Baggins could do this, so could you.'

Days turned into weeks and instead of just talking, Bucky escalated his plans by doing stuff with you. He started off gently by taking you for a walk around the rose garden Tony had at the back of the compound. Bucky noted how your eyes changed, you looked at the gorgeous fruit trees and rose bushes in such awe. The flowery scent tingled your nose.

Then he would go further by taking you a few blocks away to buy you a coffee. And when New York was hit with a heatwave, he took you to the beach where he heard you giggle for the very time because of the flamingo floaties he had around his arms.

The team saw a huge improvement. They saw how you clinged to Bucky and watched him intently as he made a couple of sandwiches and some tea for the two of you to watch with a Disney movie.

And it was just under a month when he heard you speak for the very first time.

"Thank you." Even though it came out in a hushed whisper, he would take it over the deafening silence anyday.

"For what doll?" Of course he already knew, but he wanted to hear more from you. He wanted to hear your voice.

"For helping me."

Bucky nodded slowly, a smile gradually grew on his lips and he pushed just a little bit further.

That evening, you almost talked his ear off. You opened up about your feelings, what kind of envisions lived in your head and how much happier they were than real life. Bucky shared some of his too, comparing the two it was apparent he knew exactly how you were feeling and he understood just how scary it really is. For you, it felt like this huge boulder had been lifted off your chest. A chance to finally let everything out and breathe again.

"How did I help?"

"You made me realise that there is something worth sticking around for, something worth coming back to." You told him with tears in your eyes.

His hands rubbed your back soothingly, "You know doll, sometimes in life, we hit a crossroads. We don't know where we are going or what's on the other side of the road. And if you pick a path, you're going on new adventures everyday and I am right here with you." Tears shamelessly rolled down your cheeks from his words. You've never felt so safe in the whole time you've been here.

The morning after, the team were seated around the dining table eating breakfast and talking about an upcoming mission when you strolled through the doors with a grin on your face and Bucky right behind you, just like he had been throughout this ordeal.

"Holy shit. He did it!" Tony slapped a hand over his mouth, overjoyed with so much emotion. Steve nodded to his friend, proud of him that he stuck with it when it couldn't have been easy.

"Oh my god, you actually have teeth!" Sam joked which earned laughs from both you and the team.

"I do!" You giggled, your eyes squeezed shut as you laughed. It felt good to laugh. "I um, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the distance and the silence and-"

"Listen, don't you worry!" Tony told you as he walked towards you to throw an arm over your shoulder. "We are just glad to have you here and it's a new day, we can start afresh!" Tony walked you towards an empty chair at the table and made Sam move seats so Bucky could sit down next to you. He squeezed your thigh in reassurance that he was here for you and he wouldn't be going anywhere.

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missymurphy1985 · 4 years ago

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Nobody's Perfect (part2)

The aftermath of your apparent one night stand with Cillian Murphy.

Warnings - smut / angst / language

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x

The hangover was pretty mild compared to the absolute shame you felt walking onset that afternoon. Not only did Cillian simply discard you after he had his way with you, now you had to face him in an intimate scene. Well, as intimate as Clara Rose being fucked over a desk by Tommy Shelby can be...

Paul greeted you with a warm smile, which you didn't expect, surely the whole set would be laughing at you?

"Y/n! Where did you disappear off to last night?" He hugged you and you walked over to the canteen area together, one eye over the whole set checking whether he was here yet.

"Oh, I think I just had one too many.. once my head hit the pillow I was out like a light!" You lied, convincingly. Well, you were an actress...

"Cillian said it wasn't difficult to get you into bed!"

"What?!" You nearly got whiplash from the sudden neck movement.

"You were so drunk, you were practically asleep before you got there!" Your face softened in relief. Paul was one of his closest friends onset. If he hadn't told him, maybe no one else knew..

"Yeah, didn't put up much of a fight, did you love?" That voice appeared out of nowhere behind you both and you couldn't help your hands shaking a little.

You smiled, gritting your teeth.

"Bet you weren't feeling too hot this morning?" Oh when was he going to shut up... "Bit sore?"

"I felt fine thank you." You forced a smile and turned your back on him before walking over to Sophie and Natasha to get a coffee and some adult, non-innuendo conversation, leaving Cillian and Paul to head to makeup to get ready for their scenes.

You forced it down enough that Tash and Sophie didn't notice anything untoward. Before long, the director was calling you to get ready and your heart sank - THAT scene. Brilliant.

The set was closed to everyone except you, Cillian and the directors due to the 'sexual nature' of it, and you were casually sat leaning against the desk waiting for Tommy Shelby to make his way over. The sooner this was over, the better. A few moments passed before he made his way over. You didn't speak as he sat on the chair next in front of you, both of you in full costume.

"Can we at least be professional?" You asked, breaking the silence.

"It was just sex y/n," he chuckled making your blood boil. The directors came onto the set and took you both to the side explaining what they needed. These scenes were never fully choreographed - it was down to the actors to know their characters well enough to just run with it.

You both got into position, ready for the call of Action. You, dress hitched over your waist bent over the desk, Cillian behind you ready to go. One of his hands on your waist, the other on your lower back. You could feel him rubbing the skin there gently, as if he was trying to make you feel more comfortable.. but as quick as it started, it stopped. The director called Action and the pounding began.

Once the 'climaxes' had been reached, he 'removed' himself from you and you straightened yourself out, turning to face him. The cameras still rolling, the scene wasn't done. But the script couldn't have been more perfect.

"Better, Mr Shelby?" You asked, as Clara.

"Much. Thank you Clara, you can see yourself out, eh?"

"Does this life satisfy you, Tommy? A different girl every week? Just mere objects for you to get your end away... Never spare a thought for them do you? They're just there to what, serve a purpose I guess? How many was it this month, huh, do you even know?" A pause, his gaze never left yours. You weren't talking to Tommy now, and he knew it. Finally he took a deep breath and pointed behind you.

"The door's over there."

Your eyes watered. Unscripted, but the director didn't call cut... You bit your lip and headed out the door.

"CUT! Jesus y/n, you nearly had ME welling up.. that last shot was incredible..." You smiled at the director and looked back at Cillian, who was still watching you, a stony expression on his face. Without missing a beat, you walked off set and back to your trailer.

You sat at the table in your trailer with a coffee, closing your eyes and pushing away everything from the last 24 hours. A knock on your door stunned you. You opened it to find Natasha, who saw your red eyes and immediately let herself in, closing the door behind you and pulling you into her arms. Without thinking you allowed your tears to fall. Sobbing almost uncontrollably.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" She asked, easing you onto the sofa and kneeling down in front of you.

"Y/n... Talk to me, you're worrying me.." you took a deep breath and shook your head.

"I'm fine... Just a tough week and... I guess I'm just overwhelmed with it all a bit... you know?"

"Your acting skills are impeccable, y/n, but I'm not buying that for a second," she smiled. "He's an idiot, Y/n... And I should have warned you..."

"Oh god... Everyone knows don't they?"

"Only me. He doesn't know I know. He's a sucker for a nice pair of legs and dark brown hair. When he came back down after taking you to your room, it was written all over his face. That, and he had his t-shirt on inside out." You couldn't help but laugh. Idiot!

"Everyone was wasted - no one else noticed. But when you're on antibiotics and can't drink? You notice it all." Your smile was gone, as you held your head in your hands.

"I can't believe I let it happen.. he must think I'm such a slut.."

"You never had a one night stand before?"

"No, and I wasn't planning on having one with Cillian fucking Murphy either. My GOD he's an arsehole.. how the fuck am I gonna get through the next few months?"

"You hold your head high and walk proud. Kill him with kindness. Nothing more satisfying than letting him think you're not bothered! Come on, you're an actress aren't you? Channel your inner Clara!" She squeezed your hands and smiled.

"Thank you Tash..."

"And your secret is safe with me. Cillian's not the type to go shouting his mouth either don't worry. He's too in love with his reputation." She smirked.

You knew she was right - time to channel your inner Clara.

*******************************************

The next few days went well. Your conversation with Tash played over in your mind every time you felt down about what had happened, making sure you remembered exactly who was in control here - and it certainly wasn't him. You couldn't help but notice him watching you from the other side of a room though, and Tash had certainly noticed him glancing at you when you weren't looking.

You were sat reading in your trailer when the door opened.

"Paul asked me to drop this off, said you left it onset." Cillian's voice filled your trailer as he placed your handbag on the table in front of you.

"Thanks." You looked up and smiled, before returning to your book. He went to speak, but seemed to second guess himself and stayed quiet.

"Door's over there, Cillian." You stood up, moving past him to get to the door to open it for him, brushing your body against him as you did. You felt him tense and smiled internally.

"What are you reading?" You were stood by the now open door, he hadn't moved.

"A book."

"You gonna be like this for the next two months y/n?"

"I don't know what you mean Cillian."

He moved closer to you as if to leave, his body now in front of yours. He held his hand over yours on the door and your breath caught in your throat. Without thinking, you closed the door and his lips were on yours. The kiss soft at first, increasing in intensity as he pushed you against the wall. You lifted one leg up to his waist as he pushed his arousal into your core, making both of you groan at the contact.

"What are you doing to me y/n..." You wanted him, that much was clear.. but your brain suddenly kicked back in and you put your hands on his chest to push him away.

"I'm making you leave.. now.." your breath was heavy, you were turned on beyond belief but you couldn't let him do this to you again. He rested his head against yours and nodded. Without a word, he straightened out the clear erection in his trousers and wrapped his jumper round his waist to hide it, before stroking the side of your face and heading out the door.

#cillian fanfic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian smut #cillian x smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy

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wandsandwheezes · 4 years ago

Text

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH3

one // two

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff.

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // Just a quick one to say a massive thank you for the 800 of you have chosen to follow me and my work! I’m absolutely over the moon and once again I am filled with so many emotions that I don’t know how to process, so once again thank you, frim the bottom of my heart 💕

You were gasping for air, begging to have a moment to let out your sultry moans as the power of your orgasm washed over you. After a gentle shower together earlier, George pulled his old Gryffindor sweater on you, and it lit a fire inside him that was fuelling high, after high, after high, fucking his girl possessively into his sweater, until you were an absolute mess for him. Only when the garment had served its purpose did it come off again. These were the things George wished he could brag about to his mates, he wished he could quip back when they were talking about how good their sex life was, he wanted to be able to boast about his ability to make you cum over and over again for him. But a part of him was glad he could keep that a secret because he didn't want anyone else picturing your sweet little moans other than him.

The rise and fall of both of your chests as you lay in George's arms, naked skin pressed against each other. Your eyes were still glazed over, still blissed out as you traced small circles on his chest. His large hand rubbing up and down your back soothingly, as he mumbled soft words of praise as his lips pressed into your hair. "You did so good for me princess, Such a good girl for me, what can I get for you? Tea, water, a snack?"

You pulled him closer, leg still wrapped around his as you did. He was the one who was good to you, this was the intimate side of George that nobody else saw, It made you feel special, unlike you'd ever felt before. "Can we have tea, baby?" he hummed simply, moving to go make it, you whined wanting to pull him closer. "Take me with you." you pouted, making grabby hands at him, he rolled his eyes, still smiling at how needy you could be, as he went to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as you sat attached to his hip.

"Cherry says I have to kiss Fred at the launch." you mumbled, as you heard him flick the kettle on. He sat you up on the counter as he looked at you with all seriousness. "You don't have to do anything you aren't ready to do." he stated it so quickly, turning around to grab some mugs from the cupboard and place them by the kettle. When he faced you again his hands were on your thighs, he caught your lips in a sweet kiss, hoping to brighten your spirits.

"She's your publicist, not a dictator. You're your own person, baby, You set the boundaries." He was so understanding, because he knew there was nothing he could do about the fake relationship between his brother and yourself. It was the one thing out of his control and he'd learned to let it go. He was resting his forehead against yours, just staring into your eyes lovingly, no words needed between the two of you as he waited for the water to boil. He made the tea for you both, carrying the cups upstairs, following behind you as he marvelled at how classic abs beautiful it was to see you walk up the stairs while naked.

Like usual, George woke up early for his shift at the store, today however he climbed back into bed, fully suited and booted for the day, to give you a kiss and a cuddle goodbye. You grumbled as he tried to pull away, "Please stay, Daddy, I need more kisses." he groaned, flipping you over so he could pin your shoulders to the bed, his hair hung in front of his eyes, blocking you from staring into his darkening eyes. "Baby girl, if I wasn't late I'd be ravishing you right now." your fingers pushed through his long hair, pushing it out of his face with a cheeky smile, keeping his head in your hands so you could pepper kisses over his face. "Just your fingers quickly, daddy, please" your hips were bucking up, hoping to catch some release. He contemplated it, one of his hands leaving your shoulder so that his fingertips could trail softly over your hip, ghosting millimetres over your clit, before plunging his first two fingers inside you slowly, using a scissoring motion to stretch you out as he felt the inside of your already dripping cunt, your hips were now bucking against his fingers, trying to chase a release, just as soon as he'd started he was pulling away completely from you, getting up off the bed, suckling his fingers into his mouth. "You taste amazing, I want that cunt dripping for me when I'm home, understand?" you nodded eagerly as pressed a kiss to your swollen lips before apparating to the shop with a fast pop, leaving his tired and needy girl splayed out on his bed.

After sneaking in a small nap, you awoke to get ready for your day, searching through your bag to find the day's outfit. As you squat down, you realise just how sore your thighs are, you were unsure if that was due to a piss poor stretch after last night's training or the last few evenings with George, you laughed to yourself as you pulled your fresh clothes on. You text George, after making the bed, smiling at the love he always showed you.

<< My thighs hurt today :(( x

>> I'll pick up some gel from the quidditch shop if you want x

>> on the condition that you let me massage it in later ;) x

<< you're a tease, Georgie, I'll be fine x

>> you're a stubborn git, I'll buy you some anyway x

You took the short walk from George's house to Diagon Alley, the slightly bitter wind ripped past your eyes, but the heat of the gleaming sun made it that little warmer. You text Fred to let him know you were on your way.

<< I'm not too far away, still up for Coffee? Meet me there x

As soon as you'd walked through the entrance at the leaky cauldron, reporters were on your toes, "What are your plans today, Miss L/N?" you smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Can we expect any more kisses from you and Fred?" You Ignored them all as you took the short walk straight towards the coffee shop.

Inside Fred's office, the man was just pulling on his coat when George stood in the doorway. "I have a preposition, Freddie." the older twin nodded, waving his hand to allow his brother in, George shutting the door behind him. "I've been thinking about what you said the other day about swapping and I think it would be cool, you know If you wanted to." George was awkwardly scratching behind his neck, eyes trailing to the floor. "I don't know George, I don't think you'd be able to handle the cameras and the couple thing," George huffed a little, "At least just let me give it a try, what about the product launch this weekend."

Fred squinted his eyes, thinking for a few moments, "I see what you're doing." he stated, George cocked his head to the side in confusion, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "You do?" Fred's chuckle filled the room, "I can read you like a book George, you want a taste of that relationship life, I get it, it sure is lonely with just your hand." The younger of the two was really biting his tongue to stop himself from spilling six years of secrets. His hands clenching a little in his pockets little, but Fred continued, "I'm off on my date, either way, I think If I butter her up correctly, It won't just be my hand I have to use tonight." Fred was still laughing as he left the office, leaving the door ajar as he swiftly made his way out of the shop.

George was seething, He didn't often have problems with his anger but today was an exception, He muttered to one of the workers that he would be found in his office for emergency only, slamming the door so loud behind him that the clap reverberated through the whole shop, sending the chatter into complete silence for the moment before the laughter erupted again.

Fred saw you outside the coffee shop, his hand pressed to your lower back as he pulled you into a hug. Cherry insisted that at least once a week there would be a public date that would allow for some publicity, you decided on the coffee shop more often than not because it was a simple way of of showing the press that you did indeed meet outside of press events and helped to give some form of validity to your fake relationship, he pressed a kiss to your temple as you both waited in line, something that was sure to be captured replayed over and over in at least one magazine or paper tomorrow.

While you and Fred were laughing over coffee and a shared piece of cake, George was replaying the conversation with Fred over and over in his head. He’d ripped up the order forms, the pieces of paper scattered all over the floor, but quite frankly he couldn’t give a fuck, even if the world right now was ending he’d still be focused on the words that spilt so easily from Fred’s lips. It made him sick to his stomach that his twin simply found you to be so easy that you’d give in with a little persuasion, sure if it was George doing the persuading it wouldn’t take more than a kiss and a look, but with anyone else surely you weren't ready to just sink to your knees and give it all up. George was tapping away furiously on his phone, letting you know exactly how he felt.

“So, how’s training going?” Fred asked, bringing the coffee mug up to his lips, He’d already scraped all of the cream off of the top and was ready to sip on the sweet caramel latte, Fred’s drink choices were a far cry from what George drank, the one time he’d tried a bit of your festive latte some years ago, he promised to never drink one again, sticking to his simple americanos and teas. Fred however, liked to sweeten up his drinks, especially as it drew into winter, you remember a little blush on his cheeks at the irony of the ginger boy asking for a gingerbread latte. You responded to his question with a small shake of your head and a exhaling laugh, “It’s tough, coach works us hard as always, It’s like Oliver and Hooch combined into one - no rest.” he laughs, shaking the image from his thought “I don’t want to think of anything that puts Wood and Hooch in the same person.” you began to laugh with him, your fingers circling over the rim of the coffee cup. Your phone began to buzz, the first one you ignored, but when they kept coming, you picked it up, looking at the messages.

>> I’m fucking fuming right now, Y/N

>> I wish you were here bouncing on my cock with the door wide open for all of the shop to hear

>> You better call your coach and tell her you won’t be going to practice because you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.

>> you’re nothing but a good, pretty little slut for me, aren’t you?

You had to choke down the lump in your throat as you read the messages that were pouring in, getting more and more vulgar as they came. You had absolutely no idea quite what had gotten into George, but nevertheless it made you ache for him. Your stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as you read the latest one.

>> I’m gonna send you to heaven and back, princess.

>> Remember what I said this morning, I want you to keep that cunt soaked for me.

You put your phone face down onto the table, taking a deep breath. “Hello… Earth to Y/N?” your eyes snapped up to the man in front of you, seeing Fred waving his hand in front of your face with a laugh. “You okay, love?” You were blinking so slowly, internalising the messages George had sent you, a thousand images of his hands running all over your body, the sounds of harmonising breaths and the feel of open-mouthed kisses against intimate areas of skin. You were squeezing your thighs together out of habit and out of a need for some friction, your mouth had gone completely dry as you tried to croak out a response to Fred. “Oh, yeah, I’m okay Freddie.”

“What was sending your phone off like that?” he questioned, you weren't sure how to tell the curious boy in front of you that his twin brother was telling his girlfriend in detail how he wanted to absolutely rail her, instead opting for a more simple to explain response, “Oh, It’s just Cherry sending outfit ideas for the launch this weekend, you know how she gets…” he nodded in agreement, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours, It was a sweet gesture but something that felt too foreign to be comfortable. “Shall we head back? You offered, spooning the last piece of the cake into your mouth, Fred nodded.

When you entered the shop, it was too quiet for comfort, you smiled at one of the workers politely as you looked around for any sign of George. When you realised he was nowhere to be seen your eyes settled on Fred who was now shrugging off his jacket, he sighed, as he looked back at you, seeing you lost in your own thoughts once again. His long strides brought him to you quickly, his hands were placed on your shoulders as he stood in front of you. His grip wasn't like your lover's, it was icy and vice-like and for the second time today discomfort fell to the pit of your stomach, It was only when he tilted your chin up and was leaning in that you felt like the coffee and cake that you had eaten was coming back up. Your limbs were forcing you away from the situation as if your fight or flight had just kicked in and suddenly, any ease you once felt around Fred had diminished.

“Jesus, Y/N, what’s so repulsive about me that you can’t even kiss me!” He was speaking quietly, not wanting to cause a scene, his eyes were glazed over with a sadness you had only seen during the war, he took a deep breath before choking out. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend.” His words hit you like a tonne of bricks, the whole situation felt like a car out of control and suddenly you were in the driver’s seat, there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it, you were waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.

“But I’m not, am I Freddie?” the nickname you gave him suddenly felt like a dagger straight to the chest, or like a chokehold. He’d been winded, because he realised as he watched you storm out of the shop, that the relationship he had with her was simply a show and he was dumb enough to fall for the ruse. Fred was in love with you.

///TO BE CONTINUED/// chapter four >>>>

taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn @pigwidgexn@starkidpotty @mrmoonyy @mackaywhore @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana @kaylahmarie

#Fake It Fic #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut #george weasley smut #smut

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marauders-venting · 4 years ago

Text

Our Last Summer (Part 1)

pairing: wolfstar (sirius x remus)

genre: fluff & angst

warnings: none

words: 2267

note: based on the song ‘Our Last Summer’ by ABBA

a/n: this isn’t the whole thing but I haven’t finished it yet and it’s getting really long anyway so I decided to just post it in parts (i know it says fluff & angst and there’s no angst here but be patient it will come)

I can still recall our last summer, I still see it all. Walks along the Seine laughing in the rain, our last summer, memories that remain… I can still recall our last summer, I still see it all. In the tourist jam round the Notre Dame our last summer walking hand in hand

Sirius woke up smiling. Remus’ arm was still draped over him. He turned around and kissed him on the nose.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” Remus groans.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Remus says, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “I like waking up next to you.” Sirius’ smile widened.

“I like waking up next to you too,” he said. He kisses Remus softly before turning to grab his wand off his bedside table and Summoning two cups of tea. He hands one to Remus and then opens the drawer of his bedside table and pulls out a large packet of dark chocolate.

“Happy anniversary,” Sirius says, giving Remus the chocolate.

“Best present ever,” Remus says, taking a bite; Sirius can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.

“The day is just beginning,” he says, sipping his tea.

“Really? So what do you have planned?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Sirius says mysteriously.

---------

“No way,” Remus said, shaking his head. “There is no fucking way I’m getting on that death trap.”

“Yes you are,” Sirius said, taking his hand and pulling him closer to the motorcycle. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No,” Remus said. “Why can’t we just Apparate? Or take a taxi?”

“What’s a taxi?” Sirius asked.

“I swear to god, I’ve already told you at least five times,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, it doesn’t matter because we’re riding my motorcycle,” Sirius said.

“Nope,” Remus said. “Not fucking happening.”

“Please,” Sirius pouted. “It’s not illegal, I have a license. And I promise I won’t fly. I’ll stay on the ground the whole time.” Remus still looked hesitant. “I even customised your helmet myself.” He pulled out a black helmet with ‘Moony’ written on the side in flaming block letters. It brought a little smile to Remus’ face.

“Ugh fine,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “But this is a one-time thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so,” Sirius said. “Now come.” They climbed on the motorcycle and Remus wrapped his hands around Sirius’ waist. “Normally I would say hold on tight,” Sirius said, “but if you hold any tighter you might just squeeze me to death.”

“And if I don’t hold this tight I might just fall to my death,” Remus replied. “Now shut up and drive; I want to get this over with.”

And suddenly, they’re on the road and holy fuck Remus is terrified. He’s resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder watching the cars around them. He squints his eyes, trying to make everything appear blurry (hoping it’ll make this a little less terrifying) and yes, he’s afraid but he has to admit that the blur of lights from all the cars is actually quite beautiful. That is, until they climb on the highway and Sirius picks up the speed. Now it’s just terrifying. Remus closes his eyes and buries his head in the crook of Sirius’ neck. The smell of Sirius and the feel of his beating pulse calms Remus down a little. He knows Sirius wouldn’t suggest this if it was that dangerous; Sirius would never let anything bad happen to him.

Remus doesn’t open his eyes until he feels them slowing to a stop. When he does finally look around, he finds himself in the parking lot of what looks like a small park.

“Hey,” Sirius says, reaching a hand back and stroking Remus’ thigh. “Are you ok?”

“I’m alive, if that’s what you mean,” Remus says, letting go of Sirius so he can climb off the motorcycle. Sirius helps Remus down and takes his helmet.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Yes, it was that fucking bad,” Remus says. “I’m never riding that thing again.”

“Hey, ‘that thing’ has a name, you know,” Sirius said, arms crossed.

“Right, sorry,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “I’m never riding Elvendork again.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you actually remembered their name,” Sirius said, laughing.

“I can’t believe you actually named your motorcycle,” Remus said. “Now tell me what we’re doing here.”

“Come with me,” Sirius said, pulling him by the hand into the park.

“Where are we?” Remus asks, looking around.

“You’ll see,” Sirius said. He led Remus to the far end of the park where several bushes and trees made a hedge that seemed to show the end of the park. Sirius got on his hands and knees and pushed the plants out of his way as he crawled into the hedge.

“Are you serious right now?” Remus asked. As soon as the word was out of his mouth he regretted it.

“I’m always Sirius,” came the reply. “Now come on.” Remus sighed and crawled through the hedge. When he came out on the other side he saw Sirius sitting on the grass.

“What is this place?” Remus asked, looking around. If he was being honest, it looked like a little heaven. Everything was so green. The grass, the trees, the hedge they came through. It looked like something out of a painting. The colourful flowers from the trees littered the floor; Remus picked one up, walked over to Sirius and put it in his hair.

“I used to come here when I was a kid,” Sirius said, effectively surprising Remus. “I know hardly any of my stories start like that but when I was… 9, I think, my cousin Andromeda was 15. And one summer she came over to our house and she asked my parents if she could take me somewhere. I don’t know what lie she told them but whatever it was they bought it. She brought me here. She told me that a friend of hers at school had shown her this place. His dad was a park ranger and he used to come here all the time as a kid. It was just close enough to my house that we could walk here and we’d spend all day playing here. She even learnt how to use muggle money so she could buy us food.”

“The last time we did it was the year before I started Hogwarts. She was seventeen then. She showed me magic. It was incredible. She did all kinds of spells to make plants grow and stuff. It was awesome. I’d never seen magic so… raw before. It was beautiful. But then she ran away with Ted Tonks and got burnt off the tapestry so there was no way my parents would let me see her. But she wrote to me a few times to tell me to meet her here. That was how I met Ted for the first time. Turns out he was actually the one who showed Andie this place. And I met Nymphadora here as well. I used to come here alone sometimes too. I tried to bring Regulus with me once but he was scared we’d get caught. The only good memories from my childhood… they’re all from this place. I just wanted to show it to you. I mean, you took me to your childhood home but… I mean you’ve seen the Potters’ house a million times. But I guess I wasn’t really a child by the time I moved there. So I guess… I don’t know, I just wanted to share this with you.”

“Thank you,” Remus said, taking Sirius’ hand and pressing his lips to the back of his hand, “for bringing me here, I mean. This place is beautiful. Are you the only one who knows about it?”

“Oh, I doubt it,” Sirius said. “I mean, it’s not very visible but there’s no way that nobody else has ever found this place. But it was always empty whenever I came here. Which wasn’t that often I suppose.” Sirius flopped back onto the grass, dragging Remus with him. They lay on their backs looking at the sky, hands still clasped together.

“It looks like it’s going to rain,” Remus said. Sirius shrugged. It was true; the clouds had been dark all day and the smell of approaching downpour lingered in the air. But Sirius had been keeping his fingers crossed that the rain would wait until later tonight so that he could carry out his plans without any disruption.

“You hungry? We could go get some food if you want. There are muggle shops nearby. But you’ll have to handle the money cause I still have no clue how to do that.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, if Andromeda could learn I’m sure you can too,” Remus said, as they left their little garden of Eden. “Come on, I’ll teach you.” They walked down the street looking for a coffee shop or a food vendor nearby. They found a bakery selling sandwiches so they bought two, Remus bought tea, Sirius bought coffee, and they returned to the hidden corner of the park.

“Do you get how to use the money now?” Remus asked as they walked back.

“You’ve taught me a million times, Moony, it never sticks,” Sirius said. “You just have to resign yourself to the fact that your boyfriend is a dumb bitch, no matter how hot he is.”

“Oh don’t worry, I accepted your lack of intelligence and general common sense a long time ago, Pads,” Remus said, putting an arm around Sirius as they sat back down on the grass, pulling the sandwiches out of the paper bag and laying everything out on the floor in front of them.

“No, no, you’ve got it wrong,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “I am intelligent but I’m still a dumb bitch too.”

“You’re saying you’re an oxymoron?”

“Wait, I never say I was a moron—”

“No, not a moron, an oxymoron.”

“What does that mean?” Sirius asked.

“It’s like something that juxtaposes itself,” Remus said.

“Juxta-what now?” Sirius said. Remus rolled his eyes.

“You need to read more. It’s something that contradicts itself. Phrases like awfully nice or saying that someone was found missing.”

“Oh,” Sirius said. “So yeah, that’s what I’m saying. You’re so smart, Moony. You know so many big words.”

“Literally just pick up a book,” Remus said, laughing and kissing him softly. “I promise, it’ll do you wonders.”

“Why do I doubt that?”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“Oh we’ve circled back to that now, have we?”

---------

That was how they spent most of the day. Talking, laughing, joking, kissing, lying on the grass. It seemed like the day really was going to be perfect. Until it started raining. At first, the drops were light and they weren’t bothered by it, but soon the rain became heavy and loud and they were both getting soaked. Remus didn’t mind getting wet; he had bigger worries on his mind.

“We’re not riding a motorcycle in the rain, are we?” Remus asked, his concern leaking through his voice.

“We can wait for the rain to stop if you like,” Sirius said. “Hey, you know, it’s actually good that we came here on Elvendork because we can cut through the traffic on our way home.”

“What? No, no, no, no, no,” Remus said, shaking his head. “There’s no way that’s safe.”

“It’s perfectly safe, Moony, I’ve done it a million times,” Sirius insisted. “Just keep your eyes closed like you did before. It was cuter like that anyway.” Remus felt himself blush.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said out of the blue. “I didn’t know it would rain.” He looked genuinely upset; Remus wasn’t sure why.

“Of course you didn’t know, Pads,” Remus laughed. “You can’t control the weather. Everything will be fine. We’ll just wait out the rain before riding home.”

“That’s not what I—” Sirius started, “never mind.”

“What is it?” Remus asked, covering Sirius’ hand with his own.

“I just… I wanted everything to be perfect today. I’m sorry I ruined our anniversary.”

“Ruin it? Sirius, what are you talking about? You didn’t ruin anything.”

“But… it’s raining,” Sirius said confused.

“Yes and? Rain is, like, the most romantic thing ever.”

“It is?”

“Once again,” Remus sighed, “I would like to reiterate how desperately you need to read a book.”

“Well, I’m sorry we can’t all be addicted to romance novels.”

“Oh shut up and kiss me.” Sirius laughs and lets his lips meet Remus’. They’re both drenched to the bone but neither one of them could care any less. Sirius’ hand brushes Remus’ cheek as he wraps his arms around Remus’ neck pulling him closer. Remus’ hands are on Sirius’ waist, and they slide down to his hips. Sirius’ shirt had ridden up a bit from lifting his hands to reach Remus’ neck and Remus’ fingertips brush Sirius’ bare skin — which is wet and slippery from the rain — making Sirius shiver and sigh. When they break apart, Sirius brings his lips to Remus’ ear.

“Besides,” he whispers, as Remus runs a hand through Sirius’ wet hair, “who needs romance novels when I’ve got the best romance story in the world.” Remus felt a flutter of pure happiness and smiled. He kissed Sirius’ jaw, right beneath his ear.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered. Sirius sighed in response. They stand there in the rain, wrapped in each other’s arms, dancing slowly to the sound of the rain splashing and pattering on the leaves of the trees around them.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #sirius black #sirius black fluff #moony #padfoot #wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fanfic #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar oneshot #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years ago

Text

Thursday 19 July 1932

7 25

fine morning F61° at 7 ¾ - breakfast at 9 in ½ hour – then looking over the parcel from Rodgers Sheffield received on Tuesday the razors bistouries etc. all well executed – then looking stone and coal plans etc. and mending my stockings till after eleven - Mr Jeremiah Rawson came at 11 ½ for 25 minutes - asked what I would take for the coal - asked what he would give - no! I must set a price - said I had made up my mind not to take less than my uncle sold it for £230 - for what came out of Trough of Bolland pit and £205 for what was pulled at Willyhill pit - it was well sold - the price frightened him, Mr R- said I was indifferent about selling or not but Hinchcliffe wanted it. It seems Mr R- (Christopher) claims the coal in the waste that Hinchcliffe and co. bought because on offering to buy it could not get a title for the deed had not been registered! I could only say Hinchcliffe had been about my coal only last week, and indeed only yesterday - Mr R- said he merely wanted to have it for fear of competition for his brother (Christopher) had plenty of coal of his own to get - they should be glad to agree with me for the whole for 50 years to pay so much a year £150 or £200 or whatever it was, whether they got the coal or not - they should want to make no roads or pits, unless perhaps an air pit - or might want an engine at Mitholm (oh! oh! Thought I - but took no apparent notice I see what they are about) I merely said I was not inclined to sell in this way - should do more as my uncle had done and be paid for what was got - perhaps I might get the coal myself - I could do it cheap - could have an engine and let off as much power as would pay for it - Mr R- thought I talked too fast - I said it was not my intention to do so and that if they gave me what I asked for the coal they would gain as much more - this he denied - saying they sold at 7d. a corve and the expense was 5d. a corve - I answered that they sold at 8d. a corve and the expense would not be or ought not to be more than 3 ½ a corve - he owned they did

SH:7/ML/E/15/0095

sell some at 8d. but still maintained that the expense were 5d. a corve - then said I I think I could bear you - there must be something wrong in their work and you had better look narrowly into it - I promised however that I would not sell my coal without 1st letting them know and said that nobody else should have it unless on paying me something more than Messrs. Rawson would pay. He thanked me, and nothing more passed on the subject. Told my father in part and aunt altogether the heads of what had been said – about 12 ½ off with my father to Wellroyde to see George Robinson there and speak about the water – nothing said or not much about what we went for for G.R- full of Moore the [under] surveyor of the Godley road being sent by Joseph Wilkinson surveyor of the Lower brea branch road? to stop my men making the road for James Smith saying there had been a towns’ meeting in Northowram and it was resolved to send a notice to the commissioners to reopen all the old bridle roads – and that Joseph Wilkinson had sent to let me know – stopt the 2 workmen from doing more than make a good fence wall again the wood as I have a right to do – Desired George R- to try and get to know if James Smith was at the meeting as I strongly suspected him of being at the bottom of it all – from my having heard that he had neither my father nor I could stop the old bridle road I was going to stop and he would take care that we did not stop it – George R- said yes James S- had said so to Mrs. Robinson – John Mawson was waiting to have his bill paid – sent him up to the hall, and gave him a check on the bank – off down the o.b. to Mr. Parkers’ office – got Pickersgills’ lease, and finding the farm styled Lower Conery got Mr. Parker to make a memorandum on the back stating that it was now called Park farm and so called in the tax books – Mr. P- paid me the £55 – 4/. returned received from Hinchcliffe and co. yesterday – Explained about the Wellroyde and bridle road affair – he advised not applying to the magistrates if there would be opposition, and thought I had better see Joseph Wilkinson – went to the bank and got back on demand for £6.1.9 for Messrs. Joseph Rodgers and sons, but forgot to ask again for my account – then called on Mrs. Veitch and wrote the following ‘Sir – I received the parcel on Tuesday, and am very well satisfied with the manner in which you have executed the order – I remit you, as above, for check on Messrs. Carr Glynn, Halifax and co. the sum of £6.1.9, as the bill of

9 June on penknives. 2.8.0

Ditto ditto 12 July as per order 3.13.9

6.1.9

I am sir, etc. etc. A Lister Shibden hall – Thursday 19 July 1832’.

put this letter into the P.O. to ‘Messrs. Joseph Rodgers and sons cutlers Sheffield’ – up the o.b. – at Park farm till 6 – Pickels had done the common necessary all wrong – ordered it to be pulled down and done right – dinner at 6 ¼ - wrote all the above of today till 9 ¼ - read over the courier – came to my room at 10 ¼ - fine day – F64 ½° at 10 ¼ p.m.

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

Run Away With Me

Synopsis: Every moment shared with Charlie Weasley is an adventure all it’s own. How you wish to spend every moment together and all it takes is to run away.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 6.3k+

A/N - Every year I post a story on my birthday and today’s the day I turn a year older. Usually these stories are pretty sad but this year I wrote something a little softer so here is my birthday present for you guys, I hope you enjoy it.

1. A Stolen Kiss

A bright-eyed and clueless young student, excited to be attending a school of magic. Nobody else in your family had magic so it was a big surprise when you received a letter alongside a weird lady who looked like she just stepped out of the early 1920s. Sat between your parents, the older woman explained the entire situation much to your excitement and your parents' confusion.

Diagon alley had been your first experience of all things magical; it had been like stepping into another world instead of just any old street in London. There were book shops lined with all kinds of books, some were bigger than your head while others were tiny. A shop that sold weird and kinda gross jars full of who knows what. There was a place that only sold brooms but according to the list you had read like a hundred times, first years weren't allowed their own brooms. You spent what felt like a lifetime at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions getting fitted for robes. Your parents were utterly fascinated by all the different styles and kept asking questions that made the experience so much longer than it really needed to be. You'd never had a pet before, but after a lot of begging they let you pick out a cat; he was a small Persian cat. Not quite a kitten but not quite fully grown. Checking off each item as you went along, you were exhausted by the end of it. There was even enough time for a trip to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour where you had enjoyed a cone of strawberries and cream with sprinkles on top. All that was left on your list was a wand. Peeling gold letters rested over the door of a shop that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Stepping inside it was a tiny little store with no costumers. Thousands of narrow boxes lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling. It didn't take long for the weird old man to give you a wand that felt warm in your hand. Unlike the other disasters that came at the result of you waving various wands, a stream of red and gold sparks shoot out the end of this one like a mini firework. The wand chooses the wizard whatever the hell that meant. All ready and packed for Hogwarts, you were really giddy to go. Your mother cried as she waved you off to boarding school but you couldn't sit still. The train ride took hours and it was a little lonely considering you didn't know anyone but as soon as you entered the castle you knew it was exactly where you were meant to be. The building was massive and practically oozed magic and mystery through each brick. The pictures, much to your surprise, were moving on their own. Hogwarts had four houses and each student had to sit on a tall stool, put on a funny talking hat which would decide ultimately where they belong.

The very first friend you made was Nymphadora Tonks but only because she was in all of your classes and by some twist of fate you always ended up seated together. She was a sweet girl with pink hair and a talent for mischief. There was never a dull moment with you two. Then there was Charlie Weasley. Ever since that brisk day in October when he had ridden in clumsily on his white horse to save the day, the two of you had been the best of friends. You were still getting used to all your different classes. Potions class, however, was proving the most difficult. Too many ingredients and types to get used to. Not to mention Snape was just... mean. The task had been to prepare a simple Wiggenweld Potion; a powerful healing potion that can be used to heal injuries, or reverse the effects of a Sleeping Draught. The book was open on the desk as you carefully followed the instructions until.... poof. All the confidence you'd gained since arriving disappeared as Snape scolded you in front of everyone for messing up. Charlie had swooped in to take the blame landing himself in late-night detention. On the other hand, you got to leave with your tail between your legs and a few house points shaved off the total. And yet even his small act of kindness wasn't enough to capture your affection at least not at first. For the little version of yourself was infatuated with another Weasley. An older Weasley.

The nerves of a handful of students could be felt by anyone sat in the great hall for breakfast. Tonks is sat beside you running butter over a piece of toast. Stifling a yawn, Charlie takes a seat across from the two of you sporting a jumper of Gryffindor red and gold.

"Good morning," You flash your cheeriest, half-asleep smile bringing your spoon of Cheeri Owls to your lips. "Nervous?"

"A little," He was looking especially pale today suggesting he was more than just a little.

"You should be," Tonks perks up. "It's only the last game of the season and all hope rides on the seeker,"

"No pressure then," Charlie huffs out a dull laugh. The boy excelled in his position as the Gryffindor seeker but there was no way to determine how he'd play today when he was carrying the hopes and dreams of his teammates and entire house.

"You should eat something," You suggest, pushing a bowl of assorted fruit forward. There was little you could to make him feel better except take his spot but that wasn't allowed. You also probably wouldn't be that good. "Might make you feel better?"

"I'm too nervous to eat," He insisted but he still took an apple; rolling the red fruit between his palms.

"Win or lose you're still number one in our heart, right Tonks?" Elbowing her gently, you shovel another spoonful of 'O' shapes into your mouth.

"Sure," she shrugs. "If you want we can jinx the other team's seeker? I've been practising."

"Or... how much time do we have? I can get one of the older students to brew some Felix Felicis." You play along. "Nothing like a little liquid luck to win a game."

"You both know that's not allowed," Charlie took a large bite of his apple.

"When has Tonks ever cared about rules," Sometimes you wish she did care, you probably wouldn't have ended up in detention so many times alongside her.

"Thanks but no," he took another bite. "We have to win fair and square."

The conversation drifted from nerves to lost spells and planned practical jokes. Charlie seemed to relax a little the more he spoke. Maybe all he needed was a distraction to cheer him up.

"We need to take a trip to Hogsmeade" Tonk announces. "I'm out of dungbombs."

"Urgh- you and that silly joke shop." You can't help but roll your eyes but it was all good-natured. Despite hardly ever buying anything yourself, you spent an awful lot of time at Zonko's infamous little joke shop. "I could do with a trip outside the castle though. You should come too Charlie and maybe... you could ask Bill if he wants to come?"

"You're still gushing over Bill," Now it was Tonks turn to elbow you playfully, her lips curling up into a tantalising smirk.

"I do not gush over him," you state firmly, brows knitting together in a frown. You didn't appreciate being made fun. Bill was older, wiser and always made time to show you kindness. He made your little heart flutter whenever you saw him and Tonks took every opportunity to tease you about it. "I just thought It'd be nice is all. Wouldn't you agree, Charlie?"

"If you want him to come, ask him yourself." He responds, taking a large gulp of his juice.

"She won't because she has a crush."

"I don't have a crush Nymphadora- stop it," It was infinitely more embarrassing talking about this with Charlie sat at the table. "Don't ask him then, I don't care."

"Yes you do," Placing her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you into her side. "Because you're in love-"

"I am not!" You snap, pushing out of her grip.

"I'll see you guys later." The two of you share a look as Charlie disappears without another word. It was probably just pregame nerves.

"You know what? I think I'll get some frogspawn soap too and put it in the prefects' bathroom." Typical Tonks.

You'd come to learn through your time at Hogwarts that Quidditch was the most popular sport among wizards. And each house had their own team who compete for a trophy and bragging rights. Today was the final game thankfully. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Apparently, it came down to these two a lot. As the Gryffindor team filter out of the changing rooms, you slip inside to find Charlie sitting on a little bench.

"Guess who?" You sing-song, slapping your hands over his eyes but only briefly. He turns to look at you with an almost sour expression.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to support you," you reply soft, offering a smile he couldn't even see as he turned away.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Had you done something to upset him? Surely not. This was the first time you were seeing him since breakfast so there hadn't been a moment for you to mess things up and yet, his voice held an icy chill.

"Guess Tonks is rubbing off on me?" You jest, looking around the room. It was empty apart from you two. Bags and clothes scattered across benches or half shoved into lockers. A chalkboard stood in the corner with drawings you couldn't understand. "I just wanted to see how you were doing before the big game, is all. We were worried about you."

"You were worried about me," He repeats slowly, looking up at you. "I thought you hated quidditch."

"I still do," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "It's silly. Doesn't matter how hard the team works or how many goals it's pretty much all decided by how good the seeker is so why even have goals?"

"Score enough goals before the snitch is caught and anyone could win," He perks up. "You just don't understand how good and exciting it is."

Your lips curl up in appreciation for Charlie Weasley and his love for quidditch. It didn't possess the sparkle that came along when he talks about dragons but it was still nice to see him liven up. "Then go out there and show me how exciting it is,"

You stand under the spotlight of his gaze as he seemingly takes in your choice of attire; wearing the Gryffindor colours with pride to show your support. You even let Tonks paint your face after she promised not to draw genitalia. "Do you really think we're gonna win? What if I mess up and everyone hates me?"

"Then you mess up and everyone hates you," You shrug a little. "But that's not gonna happen and you know why?" His head shakes slowly. "It's because you're the best seeker at this school Charles Weasley." You place your hands on either side of his shoulders. "And I believe in you."

"How does that help me?" With your index finger under his chin, you force him to meet your eyes.

"Because I'm never wrong."

"That doesn't sound right." He tries to look away but you stop him.

"But it is," You offer a reassuring smile; one full of determination. "You've got this Charlie. So come on before you miss the game entirely."

The cheers outside were seemingly growing louder by the second. With a deep breath, Charlie stands up, grabbing his broom. "You're staying to watch, right?"

"Of course. Tonks is up in the stands too." Taking his hand, you lead the way out of the tent. "Consider us your good luck charms." Charlie brings the both of you to an abrupt stop before you even reach the opening of the tent, pulling you back to him. "What's up?"

The peppering of freckles that covered Charlie's face was even more vibrant against the rose pink blush. You squeeze his hand a little hoping it makes him feel better. And then it happens. The crowd grows silent in your ear but only for a moment as Charlie's surprisingly soft lips crash clumsily against yours. "For good luck," his whispers; his hand slipping from yours as he leaves you dumbfounded.

"He okay?" Tonks asks as you return from your trip.

"Yeah... still nervous," You reply, sitting down beside her. "It's his first big game after all."

"Are you okay?" The crowd erupts into cheers as the Gryffindor team flys in first. You're almost too embarrassed to look for Charlie; worried about what you might find so you keep your head down. "You look like you've just seen a troll or something?"

"Mhmm," you hum, forcing yourself to watch the Slytherin team as they enter. Why had Charlie kissed you? Did it mean he liked you or was he just messing around? Your head swirled with possibilities.

"You want a sweet?" Your friend offers as the game finally starts. It takes you a second to register but you smile, reaching into the little bag she was holding only to come to a stop.

"They're not gonna burn my tongue off or something are they?"

"No," Her chuckle sounded a little too innocent but you trust her for some reason. Taking a piece of confectionery out of the paper bag.

"Charlie... kissed me." You announce, throwing the sweet into you mouth; face scrunching up when they turn out to be sour. Ten points to Slytherin as they take the lead.

"He what?"

"He... kissed me."

2. Together

Who was Bill Weasley but a distant playground crush after that day. And your time of classrooms and magic lessons came swiftly to an end; how bittersweet it felt to leave a place you loved dearly. A once naive little girl stepping into the unknown now called the Wizarding World Home. Now you would go on to be a healer which was simply a magical doctor although your parents strongly disagreed with the comparison. However proud they were of you there would always be some part of them that wished you had chosen to become a lawyer or 'real' doctor.

Bathed in the warm embrace of the setting sun, you ponder the tranquility in a bed of green grass. The youngest Weasley lay beside you, struggling to keep still as often children do. She was similar to her brother in that way who now paced back and forth a mere few steps away. The invitation had been for dinner but you arrived a little early. The burrow was always such a welcoming place like stepping into a home you used to live in many moons ago; it was cosy and warm and there was no doubt that many lived there. You found your house to be almost the opposite, it always looked like nobody lived there. Immaculate. Polished. Cold.

"Will you stop pacing, you're making me nervous." You call out to your boyfriend, opening your eyes only to squint at the bright light. "What's wrong with you?"

Charlie comes to a stop as you sit up; Ginny mimics you in sitting up but the boy's eyes stay on you. The longer he stared, the more the pit in your stomach grew; what exactly hid behind his blank expression. He normally possessed such a playful warmth but it seemed to have vanished as of late. Plucking a stray purple flower, you enclose it in the palm of your hands. "You know I love dragons right?"

"Of course," Since meeting him, he had probably managed to slip dragons into every conversation you had ever had. It was at a point where you knew far more about dragons than you ever really cared to know. Many found his obsession annoying because that's what he so obviously was, obsessed but you found it enticing. Charming, even. Opening up your hand, a small butterfly with deep plum-purple wings flutters into the air and onto a giggly Ginny's nose. The innocent glee of a child; how those days were gone for you. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Promise you won't be mad?" It would be foolish to make such a promise when there was no way to guarantee your reaction. Whatever it was must be bad, if he was this worried. Your shoulders rise a little then fall.

"I make no such promises- just tell me."

Charlie took a breath that travelled on the wind to your ears before he blurted out. "I'm moving to Romania."

"Okay," Is your first reaction while your brain tries to make sense of something it didn't want to hear. "Wait- what?"

"Charlie is moving away to work with big scary dragons," Ginny announces playfully, baring her little hands like claws.

The once small pit grew into a mighty black hole of uncertainty and sadness that threatened to swallow you whole. There had been conversations shared between friends of Charlie wanting to move away to a foreign land, just to finally see a dragon but you had never taken it at face value. Always so convinced it was but a dream rather like those of when you were little and you wished to be a vampire. Technically back then you didn't know they actually existed but still, even now it was never going to come true. Eyes cast upon the second eldest Weasley, he kicks up the grass with his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. "It's the nearest Dragon reserve."

That was something you already knew but it didn't make the decision, at least in your eyes, any less confusing. Instead, it prompted water to well up in your eyes for this was something that affected not only him and his family but your life too. "I... I don't know what to say,"

"Hey Ginny, can you go check if dinner's ready yet?"

"No- why can't you do it?" The bark behind her words was very in character for the fiesty young Weasley. Blinking away the tears, you plaster on the best smile you can muster.

"If you go check on dinner I promise we can play a game later, okay? Exploding snap maybe?"

"Really?" She eyes you suspicious probably because it was a promise you had broken before. Not always for the right reasons but this time it was genuine. Charlie clearly wanted this to be a private conversation or perhaps he was just saving you for the inevitable moment where she asks why you're crying. Ginny scrambles to feet when you nod and skips off towards the gravity-defying house. It still amazed you that the building hadn't fallen yet. Rising to your feet you brush yourself off.

"You know I want nothing more than to work with Dragons and this is the only way I can do that," There was no mistaking the serious tone that came along with his words. It didn't matter what you said there was no changing his mind but you wouldn't do that anyway. It seemed cruel to even try to get him to give up on something so precious and you would never want to do that to him. "I have an opportunity to do something I love and I won't waste it to get some boring job at the ministry."

"I don't expect you too..." You wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay; beg him even. You were fighting against the selfish little devil that was stabbing you in the heart. It was a dull, deep pain in your chest. You wanted Charlie to follow his dreams, you just never expected them to not include you. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," The red-headed boy walks ever so slowly over to you, taking both hands in his. His hands had always felt a little rough ever since Hogwarts. You used to complain back then and insist he needed to moisturise but over time you had grown fond of the familiarity. How you wished this tender moment could last forever because it very well might be your last. You're caught off guard when he yanks you forward. You stumble into his chest where he wraps his arms around you like the big teddy bear he was. You breathe in every inch of him like it was the last time. The intoxicating aroma of an early walk in the woods; that fresh earthy smell that really makes you appreciate where you are. You could almost picture the pine trees.

"I feel like I'm losing you," Your words but a whisper, lost on the breeze.

"You're not," His grip around you tightens and suddenly your in the air, spinning around. "You could never get rid of me that easily.

"Charlie," You fight back a smile as you return to the ground; burying your face in the nook of his neck. "What's gonna happen to us?"

"About that-"

"Because I don't know if I can do the whole long-distance thing? So do we break up?" The tears threaten to fall once again as you pull back to get a good look at him. You never wanted to forget the emerald of his eyes or each and every freckle that called his body home. The unusual scare that adorned his eyebrow that was always amusing to look at. If that was his true purpose to break up with you then there would be no stopping the tears when they finally burst through the damn.

"No, I-"

"Because that's a little mean Charlie, you could have at least waited until after dinner. Should have done it first actua-"

You words become mumbled by the palm of his hand which he's placed over your mouth like a seal of protection. "Shush for a minute."

It's hard to resist so you simply don't; sticking your tongue you deliberately lick the palm of his hand but it seems to not phase him whatsoever.

"I'm not breaking up with you, silly," You meet his gaze. "I was kind of thinking you could come with me?"

Reaching up, you yank his hand away. "To Romania? You've got to be joking."

"Why not?"

Did you even know how to answer that? There were so many reasons why one should not just up and leave to go live in a completely different country with the boy they dated through high school. "I can't just up and leave my family- my mum will be devastated."

"I'll talk to her about it," Charlie hums softly, placing a delicate kiss upon your forehead. "Your mum loves me and she wants you to be happy."

"Dinner's Ready," For such a small girl, Ginny had one big mouth. There was no mistaking her call. However, this whole situation now felt a little... off. Could you even sit through dinner without it all becoming weird?

"We're coming," Charlie yells back; offering up his hand which you reluctantly take and he leads the way back to the house. "You want to be a healer right? You could do that in Romania."

"I guess," You weren't exactly worried about not finding a job.

"You don't have to decide right now," He tells you before you have a chance to speak up again. "Just think about it. I mean the invitation is there and for what it's worth, I'd really like you to come."

3. Creeping doubts

It took a lot of convincing but despite everything you decided to follow Charlie into the Unknown. Your parents weren't thrilled with the decision but they respected it; they were just worried about what would happen if something went wrong. And as their only child, they would obviously miss you. A lot of time was spent at the burrow that summer before moving to Romania; you were beginning to feel like an honorary Weasley only with the experience of having been a muggle for the first eleven years of your life. It was but a three-hour flight to Romania and your mother had sobbed at the airport. It made you think back to your first time stepping onto the Hogwarts express, leaving your parents behind to go to a magical boarding school in Scotland. It was a peculiar thought but a nice one. One you wished to cherish. Now in a foreign land with no support system behind you other than a boy you had been dating for years, you were ready for a new adventure. And there was officially no doubt in your mind that you would do just about anything for Charlie Weasley.

"It's not much," Charlie sets his suitcase down on the table. "Best I could do, for now, I'm afraid."

"It's fine," It was an old apartment in a building full of what you assumed were muggles. There was a small living room area with an ugly pea-coloured couch nestled against one wall. Beside it was a small coffee table and on the other side of the room was a TV, you weren't convinced actually worked. Then there was the kitchen which was attached to the living room. It had a fridge, a cooker and some cupboards. The only other room was a bedroom that literally only housed a bed in at the moment, then there was a door that leads on to the bathroom. It definitely wasn't much but a crappy apartment was just part of the experience, right? At least that's what you were telling yourself. "it'll feel like home soon enough," You had everything you needed to make this place feel like home right in your suitcase; oh the joys of magic. Patting yourself down, you search for the key to easy unpacking. "Uh... have you seen my wand?"

His head shakes and wears an amused grin. "You remembered to bring it right?"

"Yes," you huff. "I was gonna unpack," Falling back against the wall, you slide down onto the floor which you imagine hasn't been cleaned in a while considering the dust. "It's gonna take so long without my wand- which may actually be in the suitcase now that I think about it."

"Did you forget I'm a wizard too?"

"You do it then," You drop your head back against the wall. "I'm starving."

"actually have you seen my wand?"

You giggle to yourself "You're an idiot,"

"Hey- you lost your wand too." His shadow lingers over you as he comes to join you against the wall. Taking up a seat beside you, your head falls to rest against his shoulder.

"Can we get pizza? I saw some of those leaflets when we came in so we could order some?"

"Whatever you want, my love."

As time ticks on the pizza box is left discarded in the kitchen as the two of you retire for the night. Who knew not actually unpacking but simply thinking about it while eating pizza on the dirty ground could be so much work. You struggle to hold back a yawn as you snuggle up to him trying to absorb as much of his body heat as you can. All that lay across the two of you were a blanket and this building was next exactly the warmest. "Do you think we'll be okay? "You ponder aloud; it was a question that had been on your mind since agreeing to follow him to Romania. For not many people stay together with their high school loves. What if things fall apart now that you're in the 'real' world? What if this was all just a huge mistake?

"What do you mean?" Always such a simple boy; you wonder how he deals with his anxieties. Did he actually not know what you meant or was he merely putting on a brave face? A once proud Gryffindor suggested that he always looked to be brave above anything else.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" You repeat as if that somehow answers his question but it must have done something because even in the darkness you can just tell he's smiling.

"You worry way too much." Charlie laughs.

"You don't worry enough,"

He lays a kiss upon the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your arm. "It used to be the other way around."

"I was young and reckless back then. "How you missed the days where you ran around the halls of Hogwarts with reckless abandon. Well, not entirely reckless that was more Tonks but things had definitely felt simpler back then.

"You're still young and reckless now, I just have to hear you stress about it afterwards." Charlie taunts, pinching your arm. You recoil at the sharp pain.

"Shush."

"Being in Romania doesn't change anything," He expresses; his voice sounding louder in the quiet darkness. "I loved you back home and I still love you now. I'm really glad you decided to come with me."

Hoping to distract yourself from every worrying thought that clouded your brain you decide it's time to change the subject. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Getting to work with Dragons all day every day? that's like dream come true."

"A dangerous one," Dragons were perhaps the most vicious creatures around other than humans. As captivating as they were and as much as charlie adored them, you couldn't help but worry about his safety. It seemed no matter the topic this evening you'd find a way to stress yourself out.

"I'll be fine, I'll have you there to patch me up," That he will for you had taken on the role as a healer willing to help out with all the injuries that inevitably come from dealing with dragons. You wouldn't admit it but you weren't quite convinced you were up to the task; you had never actually dealt with dragon-related injuries so this was like diving headfirst into the ocean when you only just learned how to swim in a training pool. "and if not- well, we had a good run."

"Don't joke about that," Nuzzling against his chest, you finally let your eyes close. Today was the start of forever with the one and only Charles Weasley and here he was joking about his ultimate demise.

4. The perfect day

It's peculiar how life can just fall into place. Your odd little world of dragons and leaky apartment buildings just became the norm. You had come to love your work at the reserve, Dragons were actually incredibly cool up close. Not to mention getting to see Charlie work with them after years of never shutting up about them was truly a sight to behold. Every day, it was like taking an excited little boy to his first day of school. His eyes simply lit up whenever he was at work although it was hard explaining his injuries to the neighbours when they were being nosey. You also had to be careful when using magic since you were basically living with muggles and it would be a headache if they ever found out.

With your site blocked by a thin piece of fabric, Charlie guides you carefully forward with his hands skillfully placed upon your arms to steer. This was the first day off the two of you have shared in a long time. Little information was given about your destination other than it being a surprise. With Charlie that could mean just about anything which wasn't always a good thing but you trusted him enough to believe he wasn't leading you into a dragon's den or something. A gentle breeze nipped at the skin of your neck and the ground felt soft under your feet. The gentle singing of a symphony of birds filled the air and the sun beamed down with remarkable easy. All this suggested you were somewhere withdrawn in nature. Charlie had always been one for the great outdoors. There were countless times you had found him sneaking in or out of the forbidden forest back at school.

"Am I going to like this surprise?" You inquire; your anxiety building with each step. You would much prefer to simply know what was going on rather than experience some dramatic reveal especially today of all days. Every year the boy seems to forget that he agreed not to make a big deal.

"I sure hope so," You practically slam into him as she comes to an unexpected standstill. "Because I don't think I can return it."

"Return what? Oh god- can I take my blindfold off?"

As the flimsy fabric skims the length of your face to settle loosely around your neck, your eyes take a minute to adapt. You don't know quite what you were expecting but this was not it. Before you stands a small cottage surrounded by nothing but a wide-open field full of a rainbow of wildflowers. It was a beautiful little house with as much charm and beauty you'd expect from a place out in what seems like the middle of nowhere. It could be described as the perfect place to settle down.

"Surprise!" He was redder than a cherry tomato when he stepped into view. Both arms in the air as a sign of celebration but you were just rather... confused? Whose house was this and why had he brought you all the way out here?

"I don't get it?"

"We've been here for a while now so I thought we should get our own place or like, a better place. One where we don't have to worry about anyone else." His confidence appeared to develop with each word but his face was still powdered in a deep shade of pink. S this was your house? He'd decided to up and move without even consulting you? "So I got us a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. It kinda reminds me of the burrow only, y'know, smaller."

"It's ours?" His excitement is clear on his face and he quickly takes your hand. Pulling you along with him. "And that's not all."

"There's more?" Surely a whole house was enough. You were quite proud of Charlie for picking such a beautiful little place. Come summertime, you could already see yourself sitting among the flowers painting little pictures. You also wouldn't have to worry about muggles. Coming up on the front door, your boyfriend delivers you a little golden key. And with just a tiny degree of fear about what could be on the other side you unlock it. Much to your astonishment and disappointment, nothing is behind the door except the hallway leading inside. Charlie enters first and even as you follow, you half expect someone to jump out.

"I know I agreed not to make a big deal but how could I not?" He opens a door at the end of the hallway that leads to the kitchen. It's not a massive space but it's assuredly not small either, the whole place was already furnished but you recognise the surprise was truly what sat on the table. It was a two-tier cake covered in blue frosting including the words Happy Birthday scrawled across the top followed by your name.

"You... baked?"

"Mum sent it actually," Charlie chortled lightly as he wanders up behind you. Tossing a package of red with multicoloured polka-dots onto the table. "Sent this along too. Reckon it's a jumper or something."

"That was nice of her," You weren't sure of how to react to it all. Birthdays had never really been your thing but you appreciated that Mrs. Weasley had gone out of her way to make you something special.

"And from me..." He trails off and the sound of tiny tracks echo off the walls attended by an adorable yelp. Up to your feet slides an ash grey puppy who was more legs than anything else. It had bright blue eyes and floppy ears.

"You got me a dog?"

"I got us a dog- thought we needed a pet around here. I debated getting a crup but that'd be a disaster if your parents ever decide to visit." Crups were notorious for their dislike of muggles. You never understood why but he was right in his decision. The gesture was sweet but rather odd all things considered but still you smile. It was hard to be mad at something so cute and you weren't just talking about the dog. The puppy sits at your feet, wagging its little tail a mile a minute. There was no denying how adorable it was and at least it wasn't a dragon. Or a murtlap for that matter, those things were ugly. "You don't seem happy... do you not like him? I can take him back?" Kneeling, your hand drifts over the soft fur of the puppy's head. In response, the dog jumps up in an attempt to lick at your face. Your smile grows as you try to get away. "I think he likes you."

"What's his name?"

"Whatever you want? He's a Great Dane by the way." The puppy had calmed down a little and you stare as you ponder the perfect name for an ash grey Great Dane. "How about... Arlo?"

"Arlo?"

"Mhmm," You hum standing up straight. "And I'm plenty happy if not a little overwhelmed. You know how I feel when it comes to my birthday."

"I do," He nods casually. His palms snake around your waist drawing you flush against him "But I never want you to forget that someone cares about you- that I care about you so bloody much."

"I know you do," You give him a quick peck on the lips. "And I'm thankful for that and for all of this."

"Arlo is the perfect name, Happy Birthday" Your lips connect in a beautifully slow embrace that fills your body with warmth and as he pulls away, his forehead comes to rest against yours. The dog barking as it explores the kitchen. "I'm just so grateful that you decided to run away with me."

#Charlie Weasley x reader #Charlie Weasley #charlie weasley imagine #hogwarts mystery #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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rainywritingsx · 5 years ago

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Scenario: Satan & Lucifer cheating on MC

Request: Your beezlebub and asmo cheating angst was so good oml if it's okay with you can I request the same but with satan and lucifer??

Satan and Lucifer…. My heart is about to be crushed and I hope yours too :). I thought I went overboard with Staan when I wrote his part, but Lucifer too,,,,, damn,,,, hope you enjoy? I didn’t really proofread sorry, it’s like 2Am right now and imma sleeeepppp. Hope you like it, remember to leave a like, reblog or comment if you do ^^ I’d love to read feedback!

xxx Rainbow

Warnings: Mild swearing and slight nsfw suggestion at Lucifer’s part??

3032 words

If you enjoy what I write, feel free to tip me by buying me a coffee here! ^^

Satan

On one hand, Y/n should’ve seen it coming. It was not an everyday thing that Satan just randomly made friends, nor was he the type to just go out to clubs and see people. But one of his teachers had asked him to help some demon with the homework they’ve had for the past few weeks. Apparently she had been struggling with literature a lot and since Satan was basically a bookworm, it was only natural that he would be chosen to help out.

At first Y/n wasn’t worried at all. They trusted Satan almost blindly and knew him well. He wouldn’t just mess around with someone. He still kept seeing them regularly and they hung out as often as always.

It was when they started seeing Satan less often that Y/n began to grow slightly concerned. They didn’t have as many dates as before anymore, and sometimes when they would go to his room he wouldn’t even be there. The brothers would tell them that he was tutoring that demon again. Here they felt an uneasy feeling in their stomach. Satan would usually tell them if he went somewhere because he knew Y/n often visited him in his room. But still, Y/n didn’t want to discuss it with him because they didn’t want to cause an unnecessary argument. Satan wouldn’t cheat on them.

Right?

However, when even during lunch at RAD Satan didn’t visit Y/n, their discomfort grew. This was really unusual. Was he having lunch with that demon? Were they talking so much that he completely forgot about them? Was he not interested in Y/n anymore? No, that couldn’t be true. If that were the case Satan would tell them, he would never cheat. Maybe he wasn’t even with that demon, maybe he was with one of the brothers! Or maybe Simeon and Luke, or Solomon… Maybe he had to ask Diavolo something?

Y/n bit their lip as they thought about what to do. Maybe they should look for them, just so that this uneasy feeling could finally go away and they could see with their own eyes absolutely nothing was wrong. Now…. The first place where Y/n should look was the library, right? It was open at lunch time too, so he could be there, maybe reading a new book that he found.

So, Y/n finally got up, put their lunch back in their bag to eat later and made their way to the library. Each step closer made their heart pound louder and louder. It was only when Y/n finally got there and wanted to open the door that they realised their hands were shaking and sweaty. So, before entering they took a deep breath to calm themselves down.

“Come on, Y/n. It’s no big deal. Everything is completely fine.” They softly said to themselves, hoping that this tiny pep talk would calm down the raging adrenaline going through their body. When they felt like they were ready, Y/n finally opened the door slowly. The only people that she saw in clear sight were a few demons studying and Solomon, who seemed to be reading through a book about spells. So Satan wasn’t here? That was odd…

Y/n was about to leave when they heard a female laugh along with a male chuckle that was way too familiar to them. They stopped breathing for a second and looked around the room, finally seeing their boyfriend, laughing with someone else who was way too close for their liking, resting her hand on his arm. There were a few open books, but Y/n could tell the two were not concentrated at all, and before they could even call out Satan’s name, they witnessed the girl pulling him closer and pressing their lips against his.

“S-Satan?!” Y/n said in surprise. It seemed that there was no person of authority present right now, as nobody commented on their voice. Still, other people heard them. Satan turned his head and as soon as he saw his actual partner, the one he was supposed to be affectionate with, his breath hitched in his throat. Without even waiting for him to say anything, Y/n left the library. Satan immediately stood up and left too, ignoring the girl completely.

He had no idea where they went, but he could only assume it was probably outside, where it was quiet. So he did the first thing that came to mind which was running to the garden of the school to find them.

Satan’s mind was foggy. It was only when he saw the heart wrenching look on his partner’s face that he realised what he had been doing. And Y/n never said a word about it because they trusted him. Instead of appreciating that and showing that he is worthy of their faith in him, he messed around with her heart and put himself into this incredibly awful situation. Why? Why didn’t he stop her, why did he continue hanging out when he knew damn well that her intentions were beyond him tutoring her?

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard quiet, muffled sobs. Part of Satan wanted to run away, because he couldn’t believe he would ever hurt the person he loved and hearing them like this already tore him apart, but he had to own up to his mistake, so he kept walking. What he didn’t expect however, was that they weren't’t alone. Solomon sat next to Y/n on a bench and just hugged her without saying a word. When he saw Satan, his expression hardened. He didn’t say anything as a sign for Satan to start talking.

“Y/n, my love…” the sobs stopped. Y/n looked at Satan with an unreadable expression on their face. They were deep in thought. Should they talk to him? Or leave and talk it out later? No, this had to be done now. Y/n was done being toyed with like this.

“Solomon,” Y/n said, their voice shaky. “C-could you leave me and Satan alone, please?” he gave them a kind smile and nodded before leaving, shortly glaring at him without Y/n noticing. When he left, Satan carefully sat down next to Y/n and spoke up.

“My dear-”

“Quit the petnames, Satan.” Y/n shot at him, their voice now sharp and angry. His eyes slightly widened at the change of tone, but he couldn’t blame them. And he had the feeling that this wasn’t going to end the way he wanted to.

“I trusted you. I kept telling myself you weren’t messing around with her because I believed you would never do that to me! I wanted to believe that you were only tutoring her, I wanted to believe that so badly!”

“Kitte-Y/n, please believe me, the only time we did anything physical was what you just saw. I never-”

“That’s one time too many Satan! It should’ve never happened! Even if it wasn’t always physical, the fact that you started hanging out with her more than me at one point, broke my heart. Do you think that that doesn’t hurt because I didn’t see you two making out? How would you react if I suddenly became friendly with someone and started ditching you completely for them?” To that, Satan had no reply. He knew they were right.

“I’m done, I don’t want to talk about this.” Y/n said and stood up. “I hope you two had a nice time together, because you can spend all of your days with her now that we are over.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you. I promise I won’t talk to her again, I’ll prove to you that you can trust me.” Y/n chuckled softly as they shook their head.

“Satan, you don’t know what they tell us about demons in the Human world?” y/n sighed.

“They do nothing but lie and make empty promises.”

Lucifer

Of course, he was just an assistant. Diavolo had hired him to help Lucifer, nothing more. Really, at first Y/n even believed that Diavolo was an angel - how ironic, for finally finding someone who could help their boyfriend with the ton of work he always had to do. This way They could spend more time with their boyfriend, right?

Nope.

It was still a lot of work that still took Lucifer a lot of time, he was just less stressed because of it now. But still, the amount of time the two got to spend together wasn’t more than before, which made Y/n a little sad, but they didn’t want to start an argument, so they decided to not mention it.

After a little while, things slowly started to change though. It seemed that Lucifer actually had to work more now, to the point where he was overworking even. It made them worried about him but whenever they’d mention it, Lucifer would just brush it off. And again, because Y/n didn’t want to start an unnecessary argument, they kept quiet about this as well.

However, when Y/n heard Asmodeus talking during breakfast at the house of Lamentation, they got worried. He was talking about Lucifer.

“He really seems to get close to that assistant of his. Oh my, I dare even say that new guy has taken an interest in him!~” Asmodeus giggled. Y/n’s expression fell, which didn’t go unnoticed by the other brothers.

“Y/n, you know how Asmo is,” Satan reassured them. “he’s just exaggerating, don’t sweat it. Despite the fact that I cannot stand him, I know Lucifer wouldn’t do something like that.” Though Y/n’s worries hadn’t completely disappeared, they did feel a little better because of their friend’s words.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Satan.” Y/n said and smiled at Satan, who nodded and sent a kind smile back. Of course Satan wasn’t completely wrong, but Y/n was still scared that for some reason things were going to take an unexpected turn. And people often said to trust your gut right? No, Lucifer wouldn’t do that…

During the days that followed, Y/n was constantly having an inner debate on whether or not to voice their concerns to their lover. On one hand, it could turn out to be nothing and Y/n would immediately be reassured that everything was completely fine. On the other hand however, maybe this would only stress out Lucifer. If that happened, Diavolo’s attempt of lessening the stress of Lucifer would be for nothing, so perhaps staying quiet was the better option.

“You can always visit him if you’re that worried.” Belphegor said after he listened to Y/n’s rambling about her concerns. “The worst thing that can happen is that Lucifer gets annoyed and sends you back, but knowing him and his weakness for you, that’s unlikely.” It was a good suggestion… But then again, was it really necessary?

“If you’re worried about being too obvious, just bring him a meal or something.” Oh, that was a good idea! Y/n was on cooking duty today anyway, and he never turned down their meals.

Keeping something for Lucifer, so, making sure Beel didn’t eat it was a whole task, but Y/n managed to do it successfully. With a small smile they packed his dinner in a lunch box along with something to drink. After they were done, Y/n left the kitchen and let the others know that they were leaving. Within a second Mammon was in the hallway, wanting to come along.

“Hey, I don’t want ya to get eaten by a demon or somethin’, okay? It’s dangerous for a weak little human to be here out alone.” He said, looking away to hide the small blush that was forming on his cheek. “Lucifer would kill me if somethin’ happened to you, so that’s why I’m here.” he mumbled, causing Y/n to giggle.

“Alright, let’s go then.” They said before the two them left together. Luckily the walk wasn’t too far, and the fact that Y/n wasn’t on their own was probably one of the reasons that it was peaceful too.

When they finally arrived at RAD, Mammon and Y/n were greeted by Diavolo, who seemed more than happy to see them.

“Y/n! Mammon! What brings you two here?” he asked curiously, before noticing the box in Y/n’s hands. A small smile was on his face and he looked back at the human. “Nevermind, I see. Lucifer is in his office.” Y/n nodded, thanking Diavolo before leaving on their own. Mammon decided to wait, wanting to give the two some alone time.

As Y/n got closer to their boyfriend’s office, a feeling of discomfort came over them for a moment. No, this was so silly, they just had to go, give this to him and then leave.

When they got to his office, Y/n knocked on the door softly, but they received no reply. Strange… Didn’t Diavolo say he was supposed to be here? Y/n decided to knock again, just in case he hadn’t heard it and oftly called out his name too, but to no avail. Y/n bit their lip softly. Maybe he was really busy. But then again, a tiny break wouldn’t hurt anyone, Diavolo didn’t tell Y/n to hurry up or something. So finally, Y/n decided to just open the door.

But now they really wish they hadn’t done that. Indeed, Lucifer was here. But on his lap was whom Y/n assumed to be his assistant, both half naked as they were making out. In shock, Y/n dropped everything they were holding which caused the two to stop and look. Lucifer’s eyes became the size of dinner plates when he realised who was standing there. The other male could probably tell who this human was, and was flustered as well.

“Fuck you, Lucifer.” Was all Y/n could say before they left. Y/n was almost running, wanting to do nothing but go to their room and cry. When Mammon spotted them coming in his direction, he was confused to say the least. That was quick? But soon his confusion grew into concern when he saw the tears rolling down their cheeks.

“What happened?” Was all he managed to ask. Y/n shook their head and looked at him.

“Can we just go back? Please, Mammon?” Their voice was soft and wavering, as if they could burst into tears at any moment. Without even thinking he nodded. On their way, both were silent. Y/n couldn’t stop replaying what just happened. Why did he do that? For how long has this been going on? Had they been like that before, or even more intimate? Why didn’t he just break up with them if he was interested in somebody else?

When they got home, Y/n ran to their room without saying a word to anyone. Right when Mammon was about to close the door, Lucifer’s hand pushed it open, surprising the younger brother. He was panting because he had been running and his face looked distraught, but really Mammon wanted to do nothing but punch him. However, he knew that was a bad idea so he kept silent.

Lucifer immediately ran to Y/n’s room, knowing that that would be where they’d go. As he got closer, he felt a sense of guilt, which as the Avatar of Pride, he absolutely despised. How could he have done something so horrible to the love of his life? He decided not to knock, but slowly opened the door of Y/n’s room, and when he saw them laying on their bed crying into a pillow, he only felt more remorse.

“Y/n..” he began. “I-I’m-”

“Get out.” Y/n said, their voice low as they lifted their head up to look at him. Lucifer was surprised at this attitude since Y/n never acted like this, but he knew he deserved it. However, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t lose them.

“Dear, if you would just listen-”

“Lucifer, I said get out!” Y/n repeated, their voice louder this time as they stood up. “You have no right to just come into my room and do the talking now after you betrayed me! Here I was thinking you were overworking, but you were just fucking someone else!” For the first time in his life, Lucifer was speechless. He had no excuse for this. Nothing made this okay.

“I see you don’t have anything to say either. I have one question, Lucifer: Do you love him, or me?” They asked, their voice a lot softer now. Normally Lucifer was able to answer this within a heartbeat, but his mind was all over the place. Why was he even kissing that demon like that?

“I see…” Y/n said with a defeated smile. “I expected this. Now, can you just go?” Their eyes were practically begging him to leave, their voice thick and laced with hurt. And Lucifer knew that this was the best option for the both of them. He truly hoped that they would be able to solve this. He didn’t say a word as he turned around to leave the room.

“And I know what you’re thinking right now.” Lucifer stopped in his tracks. “And no, I don’t want to give you another change. I’m so done with you, Lucifer.” They said, their voice becoming rougher again. The demon tried keeping his head up, not wanting to give in where anyone could see and left, closing the door behind him. When he finally got to his own room, Lucifer’s tears started spilling too. He made a huge mistake, and he just knew he had lost them, he really had. And this reminded him exactly why he deserved to be here, in Hell, where he had to pay for his horrible actions. He swore to himself to never hurt them, yet he just crumbled their heart like it was nothing. He was a monster.

#obey me x reader #satan x reader #lucifer x reader #satan x mc #lucifer x mc #obey me x mc #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date

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wordsablaze · 4 years ago

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13/13 - goat string of fate

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: what we've all been waiting for... undeniable red string of fate, but with goats for eskel's sake ;) @alllthequeenshorses @eskel-loves-lilbleater

previous chapter

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

Jaskier’s heart breaks.

He knows that Geralt isn’t lying because the words don’t show up on his skin and he knows that Geralt isn’t just saying that for the sake of it because his pulse is as steady as ever under his wrist and he knows that Geralt isn’t thinking with a clouded mind because he can’t feel any intense emotions at the back of his mind.

The only logical conclusion to make is that Geralt really means it.

“See you round,” he says, even though he’s not sure he will.

It’s nowhere near the first time he’s had his heart broken but somehow this time hurts so much more than every other time, probably something to do with the fact that he’s leaving his very soulmate behind as he walks away with blurred vision and wobbly steps.

He doesn’t walk very far, though; he just can’t bring himself to.

There is a building on fire.

And there is a witcher trying to help.

Nobody asked him to help and yet he runs into the building because he can hear the panicked heartbeats of four humans inside.

He hands over a frightened child to their mother and runs back in.

He hands over a man to his grateful sister and runs back in.

He hands over a crying girl to her father and runs back in.

There’s one more racing heartbeat inside the building but he can’t find it, it doesn’t belong to anyone he can see, and even though he tries his best because he can’t let anyone die - he just can’t - he has no choice but to leave when the roof caves in and smoke fills the air.

It’s only once he can breathe again that he realises the heartbeat has followed him out.

The last person wasn’t in the fire after all; they’re under his skin.

Jaskier doesn’t get the rest of the story from the others in the end.

He wants to - he’s a bard so of course he wants to - but he knows that his own story having just found such a bitter end means that he won’t do the dragon hunt any justice so he leaves its tale to the dwarves.

He’s tired and he kind of wants to cry and he doesn’t know which way he’s meant to go so he doesn’t even try to subtly follow the others back down the mountain. Instead, he walks and walks and walks and hopes he doesn’t fall to his death.

And he doesn’t. But he does stumble over nothing in particular and end up rolling over himself until he hits a tree, gasping for breath and curling around his lute because he doesn’t have any other source of comfort.

The last thought he manages before he drifts off - read: passes out - is that he’s incredibly glad his lute hasn't broken the same way his heart has.

There is a funeral.

And there is a witcher trying to mourn.

But there is something giddy in the back of his throat and something bright behind his eyes and something exciting at his fingertips and he cannot focus his emotions.

There is a fight.

And there is a witcher trying to concentrate.

But there is a puzzle in his lungs and a question on the tip of his tongue and a mystery in his every bone and he cannot tell if he knows what move to make next.

There is a festival.

And there is a witcher watching quietly.

But there is a heavy grief in his stomach and a heavy doubt inside his mind and a heavy pain within his blood and he has no idea why his body is telling him to be upset.

Jaskier wakes to the taste of oranges.

For some reason, it just makes him want to cry.

“We are not dying on some godsforsaken mountain,” Jaskier mutters to his lute but also to himself because if he is to die, it will not be at the hands of heartbreak.

A lot easier said than done, though, because he ends up lost. Horribly lost. So lost that he wonders if someone had moved him while he was sleeping because there’s no way he could end up so clueless when he’d been pretty close to their original path the day before.

And he’s not unfit but he must have bruised himself more than he can tell while tumbling because he doesn’t get further than the duration of half a dozen ballads before both his muscles and his lungs force him to stop and rest in danger of retiring altogether.

Still, he keeps going. He can’t find anything edible but he hangs onto the taste of oranges from his stolen dream as he pushes forwards, begrudgingly thanking Destiny for giving him at least that from his soulmate.

There is a town with a contract.

And there is a witcher who almost regrets accepting it.

The monster is easy enough to defeat, nothing that takes more than a day. No, the monster isn’t the reason he chooses to disappear for almost a month afterwards - that would be the mirror.

Or more specifically, what he sees in the mirror: one of his eyes is the wrong colour.

He thinks he’s delirious at first but one potion and two hours’ worth of meditating later, his eyes are still inexplicably mismatched.

His left eye is the colour of the sky. The colour of the ocean. The colour of a privilege that he was never allowed to have. And he’s read just about enough poetry to know how that means he has a soulmate out there somewhere.

All that does is drown him in a blue hue of guilt.

Jaskier has just started playing his third song on the lute when something crashes into his legs.

He yelps, springing to his feet and almost tripping over whatever it is that’d crashed into him, which turns out to be a goat. A goat, of all things.

“Right, well, if you could not do that whole attacking thing again, that’d be great. You have rather pointy horns,” Jaskier huffs, settling on the rock once again.

To its credit, the goat seems to listen, munching on grass instead of stepping on his toes as Jaskier starts playing again. Confused but not entirely against the company, he continues singing about whatever comes to mind until the sky begins to darken and the air turns cold.

He sighs, putting the lute away and gently reaching out to stroke the goat, smiling when it doesn’t just headbutt him and bleats happily before settling in his lap. “At least you seem to want to stick around,” he mumbles.

Too tired to find anywhere more sheltered, Jaskier pulls his doublet tighter around himself and hugs his new best friend as tightly as he dares. For a moment, the goat lifts its head and stares at him and he fears he’s about to have his eye poked out, but then it just burps and settles again.

This time, he falls asleep laughing.

There is a hearth.

And there is a witcher sat beside three other witchers.

And despite the warmth of the fire and the warmth of his family, he is cold.

He is colder than he ever is, colder than when he is submerged underwater during a fight or when he is caught unawares in a storm or when he is kicked out of a tavern because he brings down the mood.

There is no explanation for why he is cold because he is home and he is safe and he should be warm but for some reason, he is not.

He is rarely warm.

And if he is warm, he doesn’t understand why.

There is no explanation for why he is warm when passing ruins he’s never seen before or when camping in the middle of nowhere just to be away from people or when being told the last copy of the book he’d been looking for was just sold to someone else.

Eventually, he gets used to the confusion, pulls on a cloak, and moves on.

Jaskier is probably losing a few of his marbles.

With nothing better to do, he follows the goat as it travels along a seemingly random path to find nothing in particular, stopping every so often to munch on something or the other.

“I can’t believe I’m following a goat,” he mutters to himself as he brushes grass off his arms, “and it’s not even a cute little baby- what’s a baby goat called? Hmm, I should really know that… Or should I? It’s not like I’ve met any farmers lately. Or anyone, for who am I meant to meet atop a mountain? Well, a goat, apparently.”

Said goat bleats at him as if asking him to hurry up.

“Yes yes, I’m hurrying. Some of us don’t eat grass, you know? Oh, but how would you know when all you can think about is the next patch of moss you’re going to eat? Is that what life is to be, travelling from patch to patch and-? Hey, that could be a wonderful name. I dub thee Patchy, my dearest goat friend,” Jaskier declares, grinning.

Patchy bleats again and headbutts his shin but it’s okay because it doesn’t hurt in the slightest and he only wobbles a little bit.

“I’m taking that as your approval!”

There is a woman.

And there is a witcher lying in bed next to her.

They are both tired and not quite awake and she is gently running her nails along his arms because she has never seen anyone with so many scars.

He is waiting for her to fall asleep but she sits up and frowns, pointing out the words that have appeared on his skin: but I didn’t take any honey.

She must be able to tell he’s just as confused as she is because she gives him a funny look but doesn’t pry, though he leaves in the dead of night while she’s still asleep to avoid any chances of her asking questions.

But the words keep appearing and he ends up with plenty of his own questions anyway.

When he’s mending his armour: it doesn’t even hurt anymore; when he’s hunting: I love you more than I love getting drunk; when he’s brushing his horse: I assure you I have a perfectly good explanation; when he’s buying new gloves: I’m afraid I don’t know you; when he’s stitching up a wound: of course I was given permission to be here.

And on and on and on.

He wonders if this person is even human at times because they seem to lie more in a week than he even talks in a month.

Jaskier is exhausted.

“Hey, Patchy, it’s been lovely to know you but I think the time has come to part ways because I simply cannot take another step,” he mutters, leaning against the closest tree and sliding to the floor.

Patchy leaps into his lap with an oddly angry bleat.

Jaskier shrugs, ripping up a bit of grass and letting her eat it off his hand before sighing. “I fear it is indeed my fate to perish here. Perhaps life does grant blessings after all, hmm?”

His stomach rumbles and Patchy seems to take offence, startling and jerking sideways, the goat’s horns catching on his sleeve and causing a panic that leads to a large tear in his doublet and a mercifully smaller tear in his skin.

Still, he winces, pressing a hand onto the cut and half-heartedly glaring at Patchy. “Really? You’re lucky the material is red anyway, you menace.”

He regrets his words when the goat stands, spins on the spot, and makes a strange noise before sprinting away. Somehow, that abrupt departure stings far more than his actual injury.

There is an ocean.

And there is a witcher who has never been to the coast for a good reason, and still hasn’t.

He doesn’t belong in this scene, he’s borrowing it from someone else without even knowing how, but he can’t look away from the waves as they brush over the sand and over his toes before retreating once more.

There is a cane.

And there is a witcher who has never suffered this kind of punishment, and still hasn’t.

Although the injuries are not his and the crime - if it even exists - has nothing to do with him, he can’t escape the burning pain and the sharp throbbing as someone makes sure the wood meets its mark, again and again.

There is a cat.

And there is a witcher who has never been able to see one up close, and still hasn’t.

He’s not the one touching the tiny ball of fluff that curls up in his palms, he seems to be experiencing someone else’s amazement, but the feeling of soft fur and quiet purring stays with him for no less than a week.

Jaskier is ready to give up.

He truly has no idea where he is or how he’s meant to get back to flat land. The berries he’d found in the morning have done very little to provide him with energy and he’s about to declare himself as food for the wolves or something when he hears bleating.

“Patchy!”

And it is.

The goat barrels into him hard enough to knock him over but he’s too busy trying to hug his horned friend to care. He’s also too busy hugging his horned friend to notice that he’s being watched. That is, until someone clears their throat.

He freezes, looking up.

There’s a very long moment in which his heart drops about a mile into his stomach as he catches sight of a wolf medallion but then he sees the amber eyes and the spiked armour and the hesitant smile and his lungs remember how to work once again.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Jaskier says, grinning.

The witcher frowns at that, glancing over him in clear concern. Before he can reply, Jaskier looks away to tug his sleeve out of Patchy’s mouth and winces as he pulls on the not quite scab that had developed over the goat-inflicted wound.

“Oh, is he yours?” the witcher asks after a minute, and gods is his voice deep enough to sink into forever.

Jaskier blinks, pulling himself back to the matter at hand before he spirals into a daydream and shaking his head. “I didn’t even know he was a he, to be honest. Thank you for that, by the way, at least I can sing him a more accurate song of gratitude now.”

The witcher chuckles and steps to the side, revealing another, smaller goat that immediately bounds over and settles on his leg; Jaskier has never been so innocently afraid to accidentally move in his life.

“She’s called Lil Bleater,” the witcher says, promptly cursing when said goat starts nibbling on the sleeve Jaskier had just saved from being eaten by Patchy.

“It’s not like I was planning on wearing this doublet again anyway,” Jaskier says, but he still feels incredibly guilty for letting such fine tailoring end up as food for a pair of goats.

Eskel has never been so confused.

He feels like he recognises this stranger from somewhere but he can’t place it, the knowledge is almost like smoke slipping between his fingers before he can grasp it properly.

“It looks like it’s seen better days anyway,” he says, immediately regretting it when the other man blinks at him.

But then he laughs - perhaps the nicest laugh Eskel has ever had the pleasure of hearing - and holds out a hand, amusement sparkling in his eyes. Eskel leans forwards to shake his hand but Lil Bleater chooses that moment to get up and charge at him so he steps back and picks her up instead, offering the man an apologetic look.

“Not to worry, my hand will live a little longer without the honour of yours in it. I’m Jaskier, and you have my eternal gratitude for appearing out of nowhere when I was about a day away from forgetting what other people’s voices sound like,” the man says sincerely.

“Jaskier?” Eskel echoes.

He knows Geralt has mentioned this bard in the past and he’d have to be living under a rock not to know of him at all, what with the songs that are sung his way whenever he ventures into more populated towns, but he can’t fathom why someone so famous would be spending his time with a mountain goat.

Jaskier grins up at him. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me! I wish I could say the same but I don’t believe we’ve met before?”

Eskel shakes his head. “I, uh, I don’t do… crowds.”

“You and every other witcher, it seems,” Jaskier says, but he doesn’t sound like he’s trying to insult anyone. If anything, he seems almost sad.

“The crowds seem more like your style, bardling. What are you doing up here?”

The bard opens his mouth to say something before closing it again, then sighs. “I got lost and ended up following a goat until I got even more lost?”

Eskel chuckles, then puts Lil Bleater back on the ground before leaning down and offering Jaskier his hand because it feels odd to continue the conversation while he’s still sitting down. This time, the goats don’t get in the way and he manages to pull them both upright.

Jaskier gets about five seconds of being upright before he keels over.

Everything hurts.

The world blurs around him.

His knees hit the floor with a dull thud.

Everything really hurts.

There’s something under his skin.

His body is on fire.

Everything hurts so very much and he has no idea what’s happening and the sky has disappeared altogether and there’s water rushing past his ears and he’s in so much pain and he’s going to die without even having learnt this gorgeous witcher’s name and he can’t feel his hands at all and it’s way too dark and-

“Breathe, Jaskier!”

He already is.

Or maybe he’s not.

He unclenches his jaw and gasps desperately.

“That’s it, just breathe, you’re okay.”

But he’s not.

Or maybe he will be.

He groans and reluctantly peels open his eyes.

“I’ve got you,” the witcher murmurs, and he has; his arms are practically cradled around Jaskier and the two of them are kneeling in a tangle of limbs on the ground.

Jaskier exhales.

“You’re not going to die, I promise. And my name’s Eskel,” the witcher whispers, at which point Jaskier mortifyingly realises he must have been panicking out loud.

Slowly, Jaskier uncurls his limbs.

He stretches his fingers out from where they’d been squeezed into fists and waits for a moment before accepting that whatever the blinding pain had been is over before looking up, intending to thank Eskel.

But Eskel gasps before he can say anything.

And Jaskier immediately panics again, wondering what could possibly be wrong. He doesn’t need to ask though, because Eskel lifts a hand to ever so lightly tracing his finger down the right side of Jaskier’s face and it doesn’t take a genius to work out what he can see.

“No no no no no,” Jaskier breathes frantically, “this cannot be happening.”

He pulls himself out of Eskel’s arms and shakes his head but his gaze lands on his hands as he uses them to balance and his breath hitches. Without wasting a second, he shrugs off his doublet and rolls his sleeves up, eyes widening at the sight of silvery scars he’s never earned, silvery scars he’d once had and once lost.

“No, I- I already know my- Geralt was- is- no, no, no no no no, wait. Wait. This can’t be right, it can’t- it- you can’t- I mean, we can’t be- nope, no no...” Jaskier’s words can’t seem to form themselves properly as he struggles to breathe.

Eskel has no idea what’s happening.

Except he does.

There’s only really one explanation for why the marks that had suddenly revealed themselves on Jaskier’s skin are an exact copy of his own scars, there’s only really one explanation for why the colour of Jaskier’s eyes had seemed so familiar, and there’s only really explanation for why he feels like someone has cast igni inside his heart.

Unfortunately, Jaskier doesn’t seem to like that one explanation.

He waits, though. He waits until Jaskier remembers how to inhale and exhale properly before offering the bard a small smile. “I’m sorry.”

Surprisingly, Jaskier looks confused at that. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I don’t blame you for preferring, uh, Geralt. Or anyone else, for that matter. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.”

Even more surprisingly, Jaskier shuffles closer and punches his arm with a surprising amount of strength, his confusion having been entirely replaced by anger. “I don’t know what in Melitele’s name you think you mean by that but I demand that you stop… thinking it. I’m not- I- I just thought- I’ve spent years, so many years, thinking that I knew and I- I don’t know… I can’t-”

He cuts himself off, his chin wobbling, and Eskel has the inexplicable urge to hug him.

So he does.

Jaskier stiffens for half a second before he seems to forget that he has bones and all but melts into the embrace, burying his head into the crook of Eskel’s neck and throwing his arms around him as if his life depends on it.

Eskel has never felt so pleasantly warm in his life.

He wraps his arms around Jaskier in return and pulls him close, pretending that he can’t hear the sobs the bard is trying so hard to stifle and marvelling at the fact that he gets to hold his soulmate in his arms at all.

His soulmate.

He’d never thought he’d actually get to meet them.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier mumbles eventually.

Eskel pulls back only enough to frown, brushing the tears away from under Jaskier’s eyes before tilting his head to the left. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

Jaskier feels like a fool.

He leans into Eskel’s soft touch for a moment before cupping the witcher’s face in his hands. “I’m sorry I never looked for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realise I was wrong. I’m sorry I almost just insulted you. I’m sorry for wasting so much time. I’m just so, so sorry.”

Eskel shrugs. “You didn’t know and I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault. I… I knew and I didn’t try so perhaps I ought to be the one apologising to you.”

But Jaskier did know.

To some extent, at least.

He’s known for long enough that not everything was adding up and he’d ignored it, he’d done nothing about it because he’d been terrified of losing Geralt, of losing his soulmate, of losing a life he’s loved, and it turns out he’s been losing everything he didn’t even know he could have had instead.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier mumbles again, letting his forehead fall against Eskel’s as he closes his eyes.

“How does getting to the nearest inn sound?” Eskel offers.

Jaskier laughs and meets Eskel’s eyes, nodding. “Sounds like a plan I can’t argue with.”

“We’ll start with getting you to a proper bed and then go from there.”

He tries to resist that, he really does, but Jaskier simply cannot stop himself from smirking and raising an eyebrow. “Straight to bed, darling? Aren’t you even going to buy me a drink first?”

The endearingly sheepish look on Eskel’s face is almost worth all the pain.

“Though you really should buy me a drink first, for one reason or the other; I am a little dizzy still,” Jaskier mutters, having forgotten all about that because of the unprecedented pain.

Eskel curses.

Before Jaskier can even process the emotional whiplash, Eskel has lifted him to his feet and turned around, dropping to one knee. “Let’s go.”

Jaskier blinks. “Are you asking me to… climb on your back?”

Eskel turns to look at him with half a smile. “I really don’t think you’re capable of walking more than a mile more without collapsing, Jaskier.”

Well, that’s probably true. He grabs his lute and swings that onto his own back before looping his arms around Eskel’s neck, his legs locking around the witcher’s waist as he stands up effortlessly.

Eskel smiles as Jaskier settles on his back as if he were born to do so.

Which, quite possibly, he sort of was.

He smells like the comfort Eskel gets from when the dreams he borrows are good ones and it feels impossible that he gets to experience it in person. But it’s very much not impossible because Jaskier is a steady weight around his waist and on his shoulder and against his neck.

It’s a little overwhelming.

“So you’re the one who was dreaming of a succubus then?” Jaskier asks out of the blue.

Eskel stops walking for a second, narrowly avoids accidentally kicking Lil Bleater, and clears his throat. “Dreaming? No. No, that’s not quite how we spent the night.”

There’s a moment of silence before Jaskier laughs brightly. Eskel can feel the way his shoulders shake with the force of his amusement and it’s almost a miracle that neither of them overbalance.

“You’ll have to elaborate on that at some point, it’s going to make a great song!”

“You want to write songs about the succubi I’ve met?” Eskel asks, confused. Surely the bard could have asked Geralt about them over the years, it’s not like witchers can afford to designate who takes care of which creatures or anything.

But Jaskier snorts, pokes Eskel’s cheek, and shakes his head. “No, I- I want to write songs about… about my soulmate.”

That feels like a confession and Eskel is honoured to have received it. He hums in acknowledgement and gently squeezes one of Jaskier’s legs. “Not to worry, we have all the time in the world.”

“We do?” Jaskier asks.

Shuffling the bard’s weight a little bit, Eskel lifts his right hand so Jaskier can see his wrist and more specifically, the ouroboros etched into it. He hears Jaskier gasp before there are gentle fingers around his arm that almost make him shiver, a warm finger tracing the symbol over and over until Eskel hears quiet sniffling.

It takes a while for Jaskier to exhale softly and give Eskel’s hand back to him, after which he goes back to supporting his weight more evenly. He has plenty of his own questions but he figures it’s best to leave them for later, when they’ve both recovered from the shock.

The town comes into view sooner than expected, or perhaps Eskel had just been unknowingly pushing himself to walk faster because he can feel the way Jaskier’s grip has slowly relaxed to the point where he’s practically just draped over him like a very strange sort of cloak.

As much as he doesn’t want to let go of Jaskier, he has to when they get to the stables. Both goats are more than happy to be secured near Scorpion, who huffs at Jaskier just hard enough to send him stumbling into Eskel’s side with a small yelp.

“I’ve got you,” Eskel chuckles.

Jaskier grins.

“That you have,” he agrees, “but have you got a room?”

Nodding, Eskel leads them both back to the inn. But instead of going up the stairs, he guides Jaskier to the table in the corner. “Stay here, I’m going to get some food.”

Jaskier blinks, used to this scenario playing out the other way around. Eskel is gone before he can even think of replying so he just yawns and waits, shuffling over when the witcher returns because if he doesn’t lean against someone, he’s probably going to fall into his meal.

Eskel pauses for a second before sliding into the seat beside him, placing two bowls of stew in front of them. “I know you’re tired but you really should eat.”

“How ever will I repay such kindness?” Jaskier mumbles before following Eskel’s instructions.

Jaskier is immensely grateful that Eskel doesn’t mind being leaned on because almost counterintuitively, eating only makes him want to fall asleep even more. By the time they’re both finished, he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Almost there,” Eskel says, at which point he realises they’re now halfway up the stairs.

Yawning again, Jaskier keeps a tight hold of Eskel’s arm as they get to his room, thrown off when they stop by the door instead of somewhere more suitable for sleeping. “What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning.

Eskel places the lute Jaskier apparently hadn’t been strong enough to carry himself down before gesturing around vaguely. “I didn’t know anyone would be staying with me so…”

Jaskier laughs, throwing his head back. He has no idea what compels him to do so but he cups Eskel’s confused face in his hands and places a soft kiss on his nose. “Eskel, darling, you are literally my soulmate. I think we’ll be alright sharing a bed.”

He can actually feel the way Eskel smiles under his hands and can’t help grinning back, but then his knees decide to buckle for no apparent reason - aside from the general exhaustion and probably clumsy bruises, of course - and Eskel is once again the only thing keeping him upright.

He’s not entirely sure what the sequence of events is after that but he doesn’t care to puzzle over it because he ends up with his head on an actual pillow and Eskel’s arms around him and he’s never felt so comfortable and safe and content in his life.

“Don’t leave without me,” Jaskier mumbles even as he can feel himself drifting off, only slightly embarrassed at being so obvious about it.

Eskel hums quietly and brushes the pad of his thumb over Jaskier’s cheek before moving his hair away from his forehead, smiling softly as their eyes meet. “I would never even think of it,” he promises.

And somehow, despite everything else in his life that’s somehow gone wrong and fallen apart and proven that perhaps he shouldn’t be so blindly trusting of what he thinks may be the truth even if he has plenty of reasons to believe otherwise, Jaskier can't bring himself to doubt the witcher’s words even in the slightest.

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that Eskel has always been his destiny.

i apologise if this finale was a little messy because i was indecisive and couldn't choose just one pov but i am so hyped to have finished !!! i hope this ending was worth all the chaos <3

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier

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wistfulcynic · 4 years ago

Text

The Meet-Cute, Part One

In which Ruby decides that what Emma’s love life needs is a good old-fashioned meet-cute, and sets about arranging one for her. Or two, or three, or six...whatever, she’ll set up however many it takes for her friend to meet The One. But it may turn out that Emma doesn’t need any help finding The One after all...

Rating: T Words: 5.2k (first chapter)

On AO3

LOOK @optomisticgirl I WROTE THE THING.

Also, @ohmightydevviepuu, @shireness-says, and @distant-rose you are complicit in the writing of the thing.

PART ONE:

“What you need, Emma Swan, is a meet-cute.”

Emma swallowed a sigh but couldn’t hold back the accompanying eye-roll. “I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing I need.”

“No, hear me out,” Ruby insisted, her eyes alight with excitement. “This is actually perfect for you.”

Emma let the sigh go this time, reminding herself firmly that Ruby was her best friend and had been for years.

“All right,” she said. “Tell me why I need a meet-cute.”

“Yesssss,” said Ruby. “Okay, listen. There’s nobody at work you’re interested in dating, right?”

“My co-worker is literally my brother.”

“Yeah that’s kind of what I meant. Most people meet their future spouses at work—”

“That’s not a real statistic.”

“—but—yes, it is real—but there’s no one at work for you and that’s not likely to change, so you have to look elsewhere. Now, the next most common place to meet someone is where you live—

“Seriously, you’re just making this stuff up.”

“—but there’s no one for you there, either,” Ruby pressed on, ignoring her. “No cute guys across the hall—“

“No straight ones anyway.”

“—and seeing as you are for some strange reason dead-set against online dating—”

“I absolutely am.” Emma shuddered at the hideous thought.

“—which actually does work, by the way.”

“It doesn’t. You and Mulan are just outliers.”

“Look, Emma, don’t knock the matchmaking power of Good Omens Discord chats until you try them.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Well then,” Ruby declared, in a voice that suggested she thought she’d won the argument. “That leaves you with no option but the meet-cute.”

“Really, that’s my only option?”

“Just think about it, Emma.” Ruby’s eyes grew dreamy. “Adorable mix-ups in coffee shops… picking up the wrong leash at the dog park…”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“…you both reach for the last croissant…”

“Where am I going to find a croissant in Storybrooke?”

“The last bear claw then, the pastry is really beside the point.”

“And what is the point?”

“The point is that you meet someone and it’s fucking cute, okay? And then you fall in love and live happily ever after.”

“Or I could just, you know, go on as I am, not meeting anyone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, woman,” said Ruby sternly. “Do you want to live the rest of your life alone?”

Emma shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.” Better than being stuck with someone she didn’t love, just for some dumb reason like—

“Do you want Henry to grow up without a father?”

—like giving her son a decent man in his life.

“Henry has a father,” she reminded Ruby. One he hadn’t seen for the best part of a year, but still.

“Do you want Henry to grow up without a father figure who isn’t a massive douche?” amended Ruby. Emma sighed again.

“Neal does the best he can,” she insisted.

Ruby snorted. “Sure he does.”

“He does, really. He’s just… not cut out to be a parent.”

“Well, that’s for sure.”

But Emma didn’t blame Neal for being a shit dad, though she knew her friends and family did. It wasn’t his fault it was hers, for stupidly falling for and getting knocked up by a guy whose ‘best’ was showing up once or twice a year to shower Henry with presents and promises before disappearing again without a word a few weeks later. At first it had broken both their hearts—Henry’s from disappointment and Emma’s from anger and guilt over his disappointment—but Henry was twelve now and starting to learn that the parents he adored were human and flawed, and to adjust his expectations accordingly. Emma had to admit that it was a relief not to have to cover Neal’s ass anymore by trying to make excuses for him, however deeply she regretted Henry’s loss of innocence.

And yeah, it would be nice not to have to raise her kid alone. Neal got to be the fun parent, buying Henry all the stuff she couldn’t afford and taking him on trips to exciting places, leaving Emma to enforce bedtimes and check homework and try to make Henry eat the vegetables she herself hated. Having someone else around, a real adult she could rely on to share those responsibilities with her, that would be good. Great, really. Wonderful, in fact. But dating was hard enough without having to start it off by explaining that even though you yourself weren’t yet thirty you came in a two-for-one deal with a near-teenager, and Emma had had far too many first dates end early and awkwardly to hold out much hope that she would ever meet the man of her dreams, be it cute or any other way.

“I appreciate the thought, Rubes, I really do,” she said. “But I’m just not looking for anyone right now.”

“But don’t you see?” Ruby cried. “That’s the best time to meet someone—when you’re not looking.”

Emma threw up her hands. “You are impossible and I’m not talking about this with you anymore. I’ve got to get back to work anyway.”

“All right.” Ruby shrugged and let the subject drop, but the glint that still remained in her eye warned Emma that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

—

Before she returned to work after her lunch with Ruby, Emma stopped by the library. Belle wasn’t at her usual spot behind the desk so Emma ventured into the stacks on her own, in search of some books that would help Henry with his school project on the solar system. She was standing in the astronomy section with her hands shoved into the back pockets of her jeans, frowning at the frankly baffling array of options when a voice spoke just to her left.

“Can I help you find something?” it said.

Emma turned with a smile that stalled abruptly as her mouth dropped open. “Um,” she said, blinking in confusion at the blue eyes and dark hair that very definitely did not belong to Belle, and the bright smile that took her breath away. “I actually could use some help, but—sorry, but do you work here?”

The owner of the voice—and the hair and the eyes—laughed. “I do, for the moment at least.”

“Did something happen to Belle?”

“To her grandfather, apparently,” he replied. “I’m not sure of the details but Belle told me she had to go back to Australia for family reasons.”

“Oh. I didn’t hear anything about that.”

The man’s eyebrow twitched in a small frown. “Well, it was quite at the last minute, so she probably didn’t have time to tell everyone. But I’d spoken to her recently and mentioned I was looking for a quiet place to spend a few weeks’ holiday and so when she asked if I could come here and cover for her for a while, I gladly agreed.”

“And why would she call you?” Emma nearly flinched at the harshness in her tone but the man’s smile widened and his eyes twinkled, sucking even more air from her lungs.

“We’re old friends from library school,” he explained, as Emma struggled for breath. “My name’s Killian Jones.”

His smile began to crumble as Emma just stood and stared at him, until she managed to shake herself out of her breathless haze and smile back. “Emma Swan,” she said. “I’m the town sheriff.”

“Ah.” Killian’s grin brightened again, and Emma thought vaguely that he should really have a licence for that thing. “That explains all the questions.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. We don’t get many new faces in Storybrooke and, well—”

“Aye, of course, you can’t be too careful.”

“Um, right. Exactly.”

“Well, Sheriff Swan,” said Killian, with an absurd little waggle of his eyebrows, “I can assure you that haven’t broken any laws, but then I did only arrive in town last night so there’s still plenty of time.”

Emma laughed. She couldn’t help it, his goofy humour and ridiculous eyebrows were too charming. “But if you broke the law I’d have to lock you up,” she replied, and fucking hell was she flirting with him?

He seemed to think so, if the way his eyes glinted as he leaned in closer was any indication. “I might not mind being locked up, if you promised to stay and guard me,” he murmured.

Emma’s breath caught again at the look in his eyes, the edge of danger behind the flirty charm. “Do you talk like this to all library patrons?” she asked, cursing the raspiness in her voice.

“Definitely not. It’s highly unprofessional, but then there’s not much else I can say when you still haven’t answered my question.”

She swallowed hard. “Wh—what question?”

“Can I help you find anything?”

“Oh.” Duh, Emma. “Um, yeah, actually. My son has to do a project on the solar system, so I’m looking for some books he could use.”

She waited for Killian to freeze up, to awkwardly withdraw from her now that he knew she had a kid. But he simply nodded and asked “How old is your lad?”

“Ah, he’s twelve. Sixth grade.”

“Hmmm, in that case I’d recommend this one.” He reached over her shoulder to take a book from the shelf, giving Emma a whiff of some spicy cologne and a briny scent like he’d been out on the sea. Her knees went weak, and when he held out the book she stared blankly at it, trying to marshal her scrambled thoughts back into some kind of order. “It’s an excellent overview of the solar system with plenty of details on all the planets,” Killian explained, “but the language is accessible for someone your boy’s age.” His eyebrows rose again in an expectant look.

“Um. That looks great, thanks.”

“See how he gets on with it, and if he needs more information I’d be happy to make another recommendation.”

Emma nodded and followed him to the check-out desk, wordlessly handing him her card and watching as he completed the process of checking out the book. When he finished he tucked a bookmark between the pages and handed it to her with another warm smile.

“Well, Emma Swan, it’s been lovely talking to you,” he said. “I hope it won’t be a one-time thing.”

“I—I’m in here a lot,” she replied. It was only a slight exaggeration. Henry was in the library a lot and she often came to pick him up. “So I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

For the third time in fifteen minutes Killian Jones stole her breath with his smile. “I’m looking forward to it already,” he said.

—

The next morning Emma was at Granny’s waiting in line for coffee when out of nowhere someone gave her a hard shove, knocking her into the man in front of her, who had just accepted his cup from Ruby.

“Oh my God!” she cried. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened!”

“It’s okay,” said the man with a tight smile, shaking droplets of coffee off his hand as Ruby’s eyes grew comically wide.

“Oh, no,” she said. “What a terrible accident. Let me get you another cup, sir.”

“Thanks,” said the man, and Emma’s own eyes nearly rolled clean from her head. Ruby was known for her lack of subtlety but this was ridiculous, even for her. Emma glanced over her shoulder just in time to spot the tip of Mulan’s braid just disappearing through the door.

“So,” the man was saying to Ruby when Emma returned her attention to him, leaning on the counter and giving her a crooked grin. “You come here often?”

“Every day,” said Ruby dryly. “I work here. But maybe you’d like to ask Emma that question.”

The man’s pale blue eyes flitted to Emma, then rapidly away. “I’d rather ask you.”

Ruby gave a frustrated huff. “Here’s your coffee.” She thrust the new cup at the man and turned her back.

“What’s her problem?” the man muttered.

“I don’t know,” snapped Emma, “maybe you should ask her wife.” The man’s eyes widened in alarm at the look on her face and he backed away, slowly edging towards the door.

“Have a great day,” she called after him, then turned to her best friend as the man fled the diner.

“I hope you’re happy,” she hissed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ruby asked, the picture of innocence. Emma rolled her eyes.

“I’m guessing this was your attempt at a coffee shop meet-cute? I spill the man’s coffee, apologise profusely, he laughs it off. I offer to buy him another cup, he refuses but asks me to dinner instead? Was that the idea?”

“...maybe.”

“And you see how well it turned out?”

“He was clearly just not The One,” said Ruby stubbornly.

“There is no ‘The One’ Rubes, that is a myth, and I cannot believe you roped Mulan into this nonsense too.”

“I didn’t rope her in, she volunteered! We both want you to be happy, Emma.”

“And you think dumping coffee on the world’s creepiest doctor will make me happy?”

“What? Have you met him before?”

“Yeah. Last year when Henry broke his arm. You’ll be pleased to hear that he tried to hit on me then. Right in front of my kid.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Meet-cutes only work in romcoms and fanfics, Ruby. Here in reality they just piss people off.”

“Well,” said Ruby, handing Emma her coffee, determination clear in the set of her jaw. “We’ll see about that.”

—

Emma: What do you want for dinner?

Henry: What have we got?

Emma: Nothing, that’s why I’m asking. I can stop at the store on the way home.

Henry: I suppose pizza isn’t an option?

Emma: We had that yesterday.

Henry: Not a problem for me. But chicken or something would be okay too.

Emma: One of those rotisserie chickens?

Henry: Yeah, sounds good.

Emma: Okay, kid. See you at home.

Emma was standing in the grocery store, frowning as she compared the rotisserie chickens when a voice spoke just to her left.

“I don’t think there’s much of a difference between them, love.”

Her heart leapt and her skin tingled, and yet when she turned to face Killian Jones—and his damned smile—she was still not prepared.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. “I, um, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“No reason why you should, I guess, except that I like all people do need to eat from time to time.”

“Of course.” She felt foolish, but his expression was warm and only slightly teasing.

“How did your son get on with the book?” he asked.

“Really well! He read for like two hours last night. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“Any time.”

They stood grinning at each other until someone behind them cleared his throat and they both gave a little start. Killian rubbed the back of his neck as he moved aside to allow Mr Clark to select a chicken.

“So, um,” said Emma after he’d left. “Are you getting stuff for dinner?”

“Aye. I’m staying in the apartment above the library and this morning I discovered that the oven doesn’t work, and the repairman can't come until tomorrow. So I need something that comes pre-cooked. Hence rotisserie chicken.”

“Solid plan,” said Emma, though she felt sad thinking of this lovely man eating dinner alone in that tiny apartment, and that was the only reason that she blurted out “But, ah, why don’t you come over and eat with Henry and me?”

“Oh.” Killian blinked in surprise.

“Since we’re both having the same thing it makes sense not to waste a chicken,” Emma barrelled on. “When Henry and I get one we’ve always got leftovers, so… I mean, you don’t have to if you’d rather not—”

“No, no. I mean, yes! Yes, I’d like that.”

“Oh. Um, good.”

He smiled again, bright as always but with a hint of shyness that caught her off guard. “Is it, ah, just the two of you?” he asked. “Presuming Henry is your son, that is?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “His dad’s, um... not in the picture.”

“I see. Well then I would love to share a meal with you, Emma Swan. And your son. And perhaps you would allow me to bring dessert?”

Emma’s heart was pounding so loudly now she was sure he must be able to hear it. “That’d be great. Um, here’s my cell number, just at the bottom of this.” She took a business card from her pocket and handed it to him. “Text me and I’ll send you directions to our place. Can you come over about six?”

“Six it is.” Killian slipped the card into his own pocket carefully, as though he didn’t wish to harm it. “I’ll see you then.”

—

Emma finished the rest of her shopping in a daze, wandering haphazardly through the aisles and putting random things in her cart without thinking before giving herself a mental slap and a stern admonition to get a fucking grip. She removed the strawberry syrup from her cart (she and Henry both hated fake strawberry flavour) and the tuna (what the hell had she been thinking?) and then remembered that Henry was nearly out of peanut butter. His favourite kind was the most popular one and the store could hardly keep it stocked, so she was pleased to see that there was one jar left as she approached the shelf. Just as she was reaching for it, though, another hand appeared and snatched it from her grip.

“Hey!” she cried indignantly. “That was mine!”

“Sorry,” said the man who’d taken it. He didn’t look sorry in the slightest. “Maybe they’ve got more in the back?”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma huffed.

“Nope,” the man replied. “Look, I really am sorry but someone needs this peanut butter. She sent me in here to get it specifically.”

Emma hissed her breath out through her teeth. “She did, did she? And did she say why she couldn’t get the damn peanut butter herself?”

“Ah, no,” said the man, frowning warily at her. “She didn’t. But listen, lady it’s just a jar of peanut butter.”

Emma’s lip curled into a snarl and the man’s eyes widened in alarm. He backed away from her, nearly stumbling in his haste. “So, um, I’m going to, ah, go now,” he stuttered. “Bye.”

He turned and fled towards the checkouts with Emma close on his heels. She followed him to the self-checkout line where he kept shooting nervous looks over his shoulder at her and she amused herself by giving him darker and darker glares each time and keeping her eyes fixed on him when he took the jar of peanut butter and ran out the door.

When she arrived at where she’d left her car Emma was entirely unsurprised to find Ruby there, leaning against the hood and looking slightly sheepish.

“So what was the plan this time?” asked Emma. “That we would both reach for the last jar of peanut butter, our fingers would touch, sparks would fly, and we would exchange cute banter with sexually charged undertones ending in a date?”

Ruby nodded. “Something like that.”

“Ruby, I keep telling you, that is not how real life works!”

“Oh yeah?” Ruby challenged. “Well, what about David and Mary Margaret! They had a meet-cute.”

“He mistook her for a burglar and she hit him in the face!”

“Exactly!”

“How is that a meet-cute?”

“How is it not? They met, it was cute, and now they’ve got an amazing story to tell their kids.”

“I met Neal when I tried to steal the car he’d already stolen,” Emma pointed out. “That’s an amazing story and yet our relationship was a fucking dumpster fire that I’d be happy to forget all about if it weren’t for Henry. Not all cute meetings end in happily ever after, and frankly I don’t think a squabble over peanut butter in a small town grocery store is the best way to jump-start true love.”

“And what would you know about true love?” Ruby snapped, then gasped in horror as her eyes went wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, Emma, I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her fingers. “I didn’t mean it.”

Emma’s chest felt tight. “It’s okay,” she muttered.

“No, it really isn’t.” Ruby gripped Emma’s hands in hers. “I love you, Ems, and you’re one of the most loving people I know. That’s why I want so badly to see you happy.”

“I know.” Emma nodded and gave Ruby’s hands a squeeze. “I know you didn’t mean to say it.” However true it might be, she thought bitterly.

“Let me make it up to you—”

“Oh my God, please don’t—”

“—with this free jar of peanut butter!” finished Ruby triumphantly. She reached into her bag and removed the jar, offering it up with a flourish.

Emma smiled as she took it. “Thanks. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Henry how someone stole the last jar right out from under me.”

Ruby flashed a grin, then turned solemn. “Are we okay, Emma?” she asked hesitantly. “Truly?”

“Of course we are,” Emma reassured her. “Truly. I do have to get going though I have—uh, Henry will be getting hungry.”

“Of course.” Ruby stepped back to let Emma unlock her car door. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you.”

As Emma drove home she tried not to think about why she hadn’t told Ruby that Killian was coming for dinner. It might stop her friend’s meet-cute-ing attempts if she knew Emma had a—well, not a date exactly but a man coming over to... well, just to eat really, but still. She could have spun it so it seemed like a date and got Ruby off her back, at least for a while. Yet for some reason Emma wanted to keep Killian just for herself. At least for a while.

—

Killian Jones was punctual and he could follow directions, Emma thought when her doorbell rang that evening at six o’clock precisely. That alone put him head and shoulders above Neal... and what the hell was she doing comparing a man she’d literally met yesterday with her son’s useless father, even just in the privacy of her own head?

She smoothed her hair and the front of her blouse and took a deep breath to calm herself before opening the door, and still she was not prepared for that stupid, gorgeous smile.

“Good evening, Swan,” Killian greeted her. “I come bearing brownies.”

And wine, she couldn’t help noticing as she stepped back to let him in. “Great, uh, brownies are my favourite,” she lied. “Um, Killian, I’d like you to meet my son, Henry.”

Henry came forward with smile on his lips and mild confusion in his eyes. “Hi Killian, nice to meet you.”

“And you, lad. I hope you like brownies as well.”

“I love them,” Henry replied. “Though my mom usually prefers—” he broke off when Emma gave him a Look. “Ah, she prefers hers without nuts.”

“Well, she’s in luck because these are nut-free.”

“Sounds perfect!” said Henry brightly, and Emma didn’t think she’d ever loved him more.

“Let me just take those from you,” she said, relieving Killian of the box of brownies and bottle of wine. “Henry, can you show him into the living room? Oh, and Killian what would you like to drink?”

“Whatever’s easiest, love.”

“Water, soda, beer?”

“Beer would be great.”

“Coming right up.”

Emma fled to the kitchen, doing her best not to look like she was fleeing. Once safety through the door she set the brownies and wine on the counter and desperately drew air into her lungs. She wasn’t going to survive spending much more time with Killian if she didn’t learn to breathe around him, she thought wryly, and also why was she even thinking about spending more time with him—this was nothing but a casual, friendly meal and they had only just met.

“Get a fucking grip, Emma,” she reminded herself firmly, and went to pour some beer.

When she entered the living room a few minutes later Killian and Henry were sitting next to each other on the sofa, deep in discussion about the solar system. Henry had his project notes spread out on the coffee table and Killian was rubbing his chin, listening intently as her son spoke, and Emma’s heart absolutely did not melt at the sight of them. It didn’t.

She set a glass of soda in front of Henry and a beer in front of Killian, who looked up at her with a smile.

“Thanks, love.”

Aaaand there went her breath again, thought Emma. Damn it.

“Ah, I’m just going to go finish up dinner, um, if everything’s okay in here?” she said.

“Aye, I think we’ll be all right.”

“Mom, guess what? Killian knows all about astronomy and he’s going to help me make sure my project’s good!” Henry exclaimed.

“All about astronomy, eh?” teased Emma.

To her astonishment Killian’s cheeks and the tips of his ears turned pink. “A slight exaggeration on the lad’s part,” he said, scratching at a spot just below his ear. “But it is an interest of mine and I’ll do my best to be of some use to him.”

“He’s already helped me with Saturn’s moons, and now we’re gonna talk about the rings on Uranus,” said Henry excitedly. “Did you know Uranus has rings, Mom?”

“I did not,” said Emma, biting her lip as amusement glinted in Killian’s eyes.

“Yep,” Henry continued, oblivious to their mirth. “Just skinny ones, though.”

“I suppose bigger ones wouldn’t fit,” said Emma. A muscle danced in Killian’s jaw as he clenched it tight. Henry frowned.

“Uranus is still pretty big,” he said. “Not as big as Jupiter or Saturn but—hey! Are you guys laughing at Uranus?”

“Of course not, lad,” said Killian. “Uranus isn’t funny at all.”

“It’s very serious actually,” said Emma.

“I certainly take it seriously,” Killian agreed.

Henry glared at them. “You guys realise I’m the twelve-year-old boy, right? If anyone should be making Uranus jokes it’s me.”

“Well you have been letting some excellent joke opportunities slip by you, my boy.”

“Yeah, Henry, we’re just picking up your slack.”

“Much like rings on Uranus might.”

“Oh my God,” Henry groaned, as Emma lost control of her laughter and collapsed onto the sofa. Killian was grinning like a maniac, ridiculously pleased with himself, which only made her laugh harder. Henry held out for nearly a full minute before he started giggling too, then all three of them held their stomachs and roared.

—

Their fit of shared hilarity helped Emma relax, and the dinner ended up being one of the best evenings she’d had in a long time. Killian, as it turned out, had spent several years in the navy before he became a librarian. He had hundreds of stories about his adventures in far-off lands and seemingly endless patience for inquisitive twelve-year-olds who wanted to hear every single one.

Emma sat and ate and listened as Killian regaled her son with his tales, and tried not to think too hard about how simply nice this was. Like the sort of pleasant family meal she’d always dreamed of as a child and regretted that she couldn’t give Henry, and she really needed to stop thinking about Killian like he was an actual part of her life when she’d barely known him for a day. She knew better than that. From bitter experience.

And yet. Killian’s kindness to and interest in Henry was genuine, she was sure of it. There was no hint in his words or actions to suggest that he was trying to use her kid to get to her, or that he was only pretending to care about Henry’s project. Her superpower didn’t even twitch. Every instinct Emma had was screaming that the most sinister thing about Killian Jones was how dangerously attractive she found him. He was just a nice man who knew how to talk to children. A nice, insanely hot man with the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen and a smile that stole all the air from her lungs, who not only didn’t run when he found out about her kid but actually liked him.

Fuck, she thought, as Killian caught her eye and gave her a little half-smile that had her gasping for air. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

—

“Well, thank you for a lovely evening, Swan.” Killian’s hand was on the doorknob but he seemed in no great hurry to leave, and she was equally not eager to see him go. “I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too. And thanks for being so nice to Henry.”

“Your boy is a delight, it was no hardship.”

“Still. It meant a lot to him.” She didn’t mention Neal and Killian didn’t ask, but she had the strangest feeling that they both wished they could.

You only just met him, damn it!

“It was my pleasure,” said Killian, and the way his voice went gruff on the word pleasure set her heart racing and heat blooming across her skin, and when his breath caught and his gaze dropped to her lips she had to force herself to remember that this wasn’t a date and she didn’t actually know this man. But she could tell from the rasp in his throat and the flush on his cheeks that he was feeling the same things she was, that he wanted the same things just as badly, and it would be easy, so easy just to lean in and press her lips to his—

Too easy, and far too risky. Emma gulped and stepped back as Killian gave a shaky exhale, closing his eyes as his Adam’s apple bobbed and Emma shoved her hands hard into her jeans pockets. He opened his eyes and then the door and gave her a brief smile before stepping into the hallway. Emma dug her fingers into her legs and firmly squashed the tiny part of her that wanted to beg him to stay.

“Well, ah, thanks for coming,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Aye.” He took two steps then stopped and turned back. “Er, perhaps next time you might allow me to provide the meal?” he said hesitantly. “Just for you?”

“Um. What?” said Emma, then immediately wanted to kick herself.

Killian’s nervous expression softened. “Well you see, as much as I enjoyed Henry’s company this evening, I’d very much like to take you out, Emma,” he said. “Just the two of us. On a date.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Aye, really. On Friday, perhaps, if you’re free?”

“Ah, yeah, I can be,” she replied, trying not to sound too eager. “I’ll have to see if I can get someone to watch Henry, but… yeah. I’d like that.”

That breath-stealing smile broke across his face as she knew it would, and yet she still wasn’t ready for it. “It’s a date, then,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something warm.”

“Uh.. okay.”

“And love, if you can’t find someone to look after Henry at such short notice I’d still like to spend the evening with you.” Killian’s face was earnest now. “With both of you, I mean. We’ll just postpone our date until a more convenient time.”

A lump rose in Emma’s throat and for a moment she thought she might cry. “I—that’d be good too. I’ll let you know.”

He nodded. “Good night, then, Swan.”

“Good night.”

—

@katie-dub @thisonesatellite @spartanguard @kmomof4 @stahlop @mariakov81 @teamhook in case you’re interested :)

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #cs fic au #captain swan #captain cobra #meet-cutes #sort of #fluff #like lots of it #ridiculous amounts #also dumb jokes #and dates #the meet cute #profdanglaisstuff

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hopevalley · 4 years ago

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Season 8, Episode 4: Welcome to Hope Valley

Another fun episode, everyone. I’m finding that, this season, I’m genuinely looking forward to each episode. Let’s hope things stay that way!

Scene 1: Awkward Library Encounter

Elizabeth walks in on Lucas sleeping in the library early in the morning; he stayed up all night and didn’t go to bed. He tells Elizabeth that he managed to save the oil derrick before it was ruined in the fire, and I’m sure he was trying to make the numbers come out in the books and all that. Elizabeth is there to get some books to give to the Canfield children since everyone else is bringing stuff over to welcome them to town.

It’s a pretty awkward scene, probably because he was mean to Elizabeth last episode (though nothing he said was untrue lol). They then talk about Nathan’s trial a little bit, but it doesn’t really go anywhere beyond Lucas saying that “evidentially” Nathan was not “entirely” exonerated.

Scene 2: The Canfields

Elizabeth brings over the books. Apparently they’re from Jameson. Angela is blind and is schooled at home by Minnie, her mother. Minnie asks Elizabeth if she wants to stay for breakfast, but Elizabeth politely declines as school is starting soon. Elizabeth makes it clear that Angela is welcome at school, too, but Minnie cuts her off and thanks her; it’s very clear this is not an idea she’s willing to entertain.

Not much to say about this scene. I would die for the Canfields.

Scene 3: The Train Station

Lee and Rosemary meet Lee’s sister Susannah and niece Rachel. They’re in Hope Valley for three days. It comes off a little silly because they were no doubt on the train longer than three days, but...eh. It’s all good. Rachel is cute and thought the train ride was...divine.

Scene 4: Inquiry Part One

Bill is on the “witness stand” in the inquiry “trial” and he details the events of the prisoner transfer. The short version of this is that Bill did not see the woman discharge her gun; he was looking at the mountie who had drawn his. Hargraves suggests that perhaps the woman fired her rifle due to Nathan’s actions—actions Bill was incapable of seeing.

This is probably the first scene we get where it’s incredibly clear that Superintendent Hargraves just straight-up has it out for Nathan. Meh.

Scene 5: Infirmary

Carson is looking for his stethoscope but it’s around his neck. He’s been called away to assist in a modern surgery. Carson tells Faith that they’ll figure things out and Faith admits that right now it feels like they either have to stop working together, or stop seeing each other, and she doesn’t like either option. Carson suggests a date to talk things over when he comes back from his trip.

Molly interrupts them about to kiss, and tells Faith it sounds like they’re working things out. Faith admits that it feels like the status of their relationship changes from minute to minute. Molly...then...asks...Faith for her advice?

Like if Faith isn’t that secure in her relationship, why ask her? My only thought would be that Faith would keep it to herself...unlike some other women in town lol.

Scene 6: Barber Shop

Jesse and Mike deliver some small things to the barbershop and we get exposition about how Jesse is in the doghouse after the whole motorcycle thing. I want to say this is a good scene because it continues the flow of the last episode (and we get to see what happens), but... I dunno. It was just okay, I guess.

Scene 7: Thirsty Rachel

Rachel and Susannah make it to town and Rachel is a thirsty girl. Specifically for Jesse when he walks by.

I kind of hope this isn’t a “plot” that’s dropped suddenly, but...eh.

Scene 8: Fort Clay

Allie is afraid of what will happen to Nathan and tells Elizabeth that she’s worried because Nathan’s been in trouble before; he was suspended when he was stationed at Fort Clay. Fort Clay was Jack’s last post, and nobody seemed to know that that was where Jack was last stationed. Big shocks all around.

This would be...more believable if it hadn’t been three years, and if we didn’t have the most obnoxious man in the world in town already who would have looked into Nathan’s past before trusting him fully. (Hint: I’m talking about Bill.)

I just find it super hard to believe that Bill wouldn’t know this lol. I guess we have to assume that if Bill did look, he only looked at Nathan’s last posting (Ft. Simpson) and didn’t go back to the previous post before that, which was Ft. Clay.

Scene 9: Elizabeth talks to Joseph

Elizabeth speaks with Joseph about the kids. She wants him and Minnie to know that Angela is welcome at school for real...and Joseph says he knows, but Minnie is protective of Angela and would prefer to keep schooling her herself.

Elizabeth talks about wanting to learn how to teach a blind student and says she understands why Joseph and Minnie are protective of Angela, but...Joseph tells her she doesn’t actually know, and that he doesn’t expect her to really understand it. He’s exceedingly kind in the way he states this, too. Like he knows Elizabeth grasps the basic concept, but cannot see the whole picture. He’s right, of course. Elizabeth literally cannot understand it.

Scene 10: Inquiry Part Two

Nathan gets raked over the coals some more, and him and Hargraves are kind of rude to one another. Bill tries to act as Nathan’s lawyer even though it’s not a court of law. Bill objects to Hargraves’ questions to the point where all the men are at each other’s throats and they call a recess.

It’s kind of nice to see Bill being unreasonable for the right reasons, actually. He so rarely gets to do that anymore... Feels good, feels organic, thank you.

Scene 11:Early Dinner

Susannah is a joyless strict woman I guess, and Elizabeth confides in Rosemary that she heard Nathan was stationed at Ft. Clay. Elizabeth feels bad about Nathan never telling her the truth about it and Rosemary suggests that...maybe Nathan didn’t want to bring up something that would be hurtful to her. Elizabeth thinks maybe there’s something he’s not telling her though-- like a reason he wouldn’t want to bring it up.

Scene 12: Bill talks to Nathan

Bill confronts Nathan about the “incident” where he was suspended at Fort Clay, and the short version is: Nathan disobeyed the newly promoted Hargraves’ orders and acted on his own. He made the arrests himself but Bill is firmly on Hargraves’ side in that Nathan still disobeyed orders.

Bill admits that it doesn’t sound like the Andrew Hargraves he knew, but Nathan reminds Bill that he knew Hargraves before he was promoted. Bill asks Nathan if he ever met Jack and Nathan says he did not ever have the honor.

It seems clear there’s something more going on there... My guess is that Nathan was part of the team that recovered the bodies of the men that died (specifically Jack’s).

Anyway, Bill tells Nathan he should get some sleep and be ready to come in swinging when they reconvene in the morning. “And this time, take my advice!” This confused me at first, but he means that Nathan should take the advice he literally just gave him: to get sleep and come in swinging.

Scene 13: Early Dinner

Gustav tells Lucas he’s spending too much time trying to manage the oil business: “When a man wears two hats, one is sure to fall off.” This comes up because Lucas thought he did the ordering for the saloon but didn’t.

Rachel calls a meal “delish” to the annoyance of her mother. (Delish was in print in 1920 at least, and was probably used well before that, so this is not as inaccurate as it might feel.)

There’s some awkward conversation about Rachel’s future (she wants to do something exciting). It’s the worst.

Scene 14: Jesse and Clara

Jesse and Clara have a chat about buying things without talking to one another first and everything is okay and fine again.

The camera pans over to Nathan and Allie. He tells her he’ll always be there for her and that’s...that.

Scene 15: The Motorcycle

Lee tries to sneakily get on the motorcycle to avoid spending time with his uptight sister. Rosemary tells him that she’s sure Susannah wants to ask them something. Lee tells her it’s really none of their business how Susannah raises Rachel.

Scene 16: Cooper Goes to School

Cooper gets introduced to the class and the Canfields sit outside listening in on it. He tells the class about his sister. Angela confesses to wanting to play with kids her own age. She’s lonely. Minnie is worried about how the other kids are going to treat Angela, but Joseph feels Hope Valley will be different.

Minnie promises to think about it.

This makes me excited for the potential of a friendship between Angela and Allie. ;o;

Scene 17: Inquiry Part Three

Nathan doesn’t try very hard in the courthouse tbh. Bill makes his chair thud loudly so that he can find an opening to speak his mind. “It’s not an objection...you just happened to all be looking my way, so...”

He says it’s possible if Nathan had complied with the woman’s order to release her brother, that they all could have died.

Nathan seems...slightly amused by this?

Scene 18: Piano Woman

Angela climbs up on the wagon to play the piano and it’s nice. There isn’t much else to this scene but there didn’t really need to be much else. It’s clear Angela has a passion for music.

Scene 19: Molly’s Glow-Up

At the dress shop, Molly tries on the dress Dottie sent over from Union City but feels uncertain about it. Rachel suggests a necklace & sash to complete the look. She admits to Rosemary she’s trying to catch someone’s eye, and Faith tells her she will, looking like that!

Molly decides to buy it.

Rosemary tells Rachel to find something she likes in the shop, and that she can wear something from it.

Scene 20: Piano Part Two

Jesse and Elizabeth take Cooper home as Jesse was planning to help Joseph move his piano. Elizabeth seems moved by Angela’s playing. I have to admit I like this scene specifically for the fact that music would be a very popular and enjoyable pastime at this time period because there wasn’t a lot else to keep a person occupied, so it was nice to see it here.

Elizabeth has a heart to heart with Minnie about Angela. Minnie admits she wants Angela to feel safe and encouraged and also tells Elizabeth that she doesn’t understand how cruel people can be. Elizabeth says that wouldn’t be allowed in her classroom (which is silly cause if people say shit, she can’t take that back even if she disciplines a child, you know what I mean?).

But she also tells Minnie that she’ll never stop trying to understand how things are for Angela, or for Minnie, and she won’t stop trying to help. I think Minnie kind of ‘gets it’ but isn’t ready to let go just yet.

Scene 21: Tension at the Coulters

Rosemary brings Rachel home wearing the Freedom-Alls (and a lot of makeup). Susannah tells her to change right away. Rosemary tries to intervene and Susannah says that Rachel will be working her the family store. Lee tells Susannah not to talk to Rosemary like that. Everyone is upset.

Scene 22: Bill Confronts Hargraves

While Ned and Florence are on a date in the background, Bill confronts Hargraves about doing the right thing instead of just trying to end Nathan’s career out of some petty grudge he’s feeling.

I think this scene functions specifically to show us that Hargraves doesn’t actually think he’s being petty, or that he’s abusing his position of power, but part of what Bill is telling him is helping him to see that that’s what he’s doing. It just doesn’t click until later.

Bill storms out of the room only barely acknowledging Molly as he leaves.

It clearly hurts her feelings and Florence rushes over to tell her how hot she looks. Molly’s like, “Yeah I know, I’m hungry and looking amazing. Let’s eat.” And then says “When it comes to Bill it’s all about the long game.”

I need me some of that confidence.

Scene 23: Susannah Apologizes

Susannah apologizes for speaking that way to Rosemary (first to Lee and then to Rosemary herself). She then asks Lee and Rosemary to let Rachel live with them for a little while, because she feels they can do better for Rachel than she can, since she’s so much different than Rachel is.

Lee doesn’t want to agree to it, but the answer is an instant yes from Rosemary.

Awkward.

On the plus side, they do talk about how when Susannah was Rachel’s age, she was a caretaker already for their father and never had a chance to live a youthful life. That was a nice touch.

Scene 24: Allie’s Speech

Allie tells Elizabeth she’s gonna bust into the courtroom and give them a piece of her mind and Elizabeth doesn’t try to stop her... she just...kind of lets it happen.

Allie busts in just as Hargraves is about to read his recommendation (a two page long spiel).

Allie says Nathan is all she has and he’s like a father to her. Elizabeth gently coaxes Allie out of the room while everyone looks either moved or uncomfortable lol. Hargraves puts down his speech and decides to drop the inquiry. Lol.

I really wish we’d gotten a scene with Bill and Hargraves after this, just to get more insight into that... but eh. I already posted my minor nitpicks on the scene.

Scene 25: Susannah Leaves

That’s the scene lol. She apologizes a little to Rachel for not being better. But it’s mostly a wholesome little scene. Lee seems really NOT on board letting Rachel live with them, though. Yikes.

Scene 26: Carson Returns

Carson brings back a gift for Faith and it’s a doctor bag embroidered with her name. Very nice. It would be more meaningful of a gift if he’d gotten it for her well before the whole “not treating her equally” thing.

Scene 27: Molly

Molly is standing outside and Florence approaches her to ask what’s up. Molly tells her that she’s outside ‘cause Carson came back and Florence tells her that she needs her own office. I really do like the way these two talk.

Florence tells Molly again that she looked amazing last night (GAY!!!! I mean, I’d ship it) and Molly says “I did, didn’t I?”

Bill walks by and greets them and then says, “Molly, that was some dress.”

The best part is Florence’s face.

Molly says, “$23.00 well spent!” and they walk off together.

Hey y’all, $23.00 in 1918 is $400.00 today. Yikes?

Scene 28: Jinx! Buy me a soda!

Clara and Fiona run into each other and say something at the same time, so they both also say, “Jinx, buy me a soda!”

I literally could not find any information about the history of this saying, though one person did say it dated at least back to 1913 when their great-grandmother would say, “Snap! You owe me a soda!” It feels more 1950s to me than rural 1918 speech, so I personally would not have included this phrase in the writing just for that reason, but...I guess at least it has energy to it.

Fiona mentions that she’s going to visit her family and suggests maybe Clara could run the barber shop while she’s gone.

Scene 29: Elizabeth and Lucas, and also Nathan on the Side

Elizabeth decides to be the first to reach out. She apologizes to Lucas for hurting him and he accepts her apology but tells her he had no right to be mean to her. He apologizes too.

She tells him that she told Nathan she can’t give him what he wants and she won’t be seeing him anymore. So Lucas asks what that means for the two of them, and she says they’ll have to see.

Lucas seems very pleased about that.

Nathan approaches Elizabeth and she tells him that she knew the Mounties would reach the right decision and asks him why he never told her that he was stationed at Ft. Clay.

He says he meant to tell her but after so much time had passed he didn’t know how to bring it up. He tells her he never met Jack but is kind of evasive about it, which again suggests he did meet him...just possibly...not when Jack was alive.

I still feel it’s going to be that he recovered the body or something like that. Oh, or worse, that he recovered Jack from the landslide but he wasn’t dead yet and possibly even died in front of Nathan.

I really hope if they go that route that Jack didn’t say anything about Elizabeth to Nathan, because that would...make things really weird.

This episode had fewer scenes in it than the other episodes, and did more “sweep camera over to the next scene so that the transition is seamless” and that kind of camerawork is really...working for me. It looks nicer and helps things feel less disjointed. You might also have noticed we have fewer massive closeups and a lot more long/wide shots (of people walking or sitting together). I’m really enjoying that, too.

I hope y’all’re looking forward to the next episode as much as I am. :)

#when calls the heart #season 8 shenanigans #season 8 spoilers

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melon-wing · 5 years ago

Text

The Kissing Challenge Part 5/8

Before I start, let me say how sorry I am that this chapter took so long. I received some bad news while I was working on it. Threw me kinda out of the story. I’ll try to make the next waiting time a little less long. Thank you all for your patience!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

Grian landed on the peak of a mountain wearing some sort of mask and looked down at his own building. It was a little strange and he had no clue why Doc and Bdubs had been so adamant on buying it at the end of last season only to have to rebuild it block by block in this world.

But he had to admit it looked kind of funny with the fence in the middle, being split apart. He carefully climbed down the mountain and searched for any movement, but nobody appeared to be around. He would be gone in a second, he just needed to trade with Doc’s villagers. Sure, he could have asked, but Doc would have wanted payment and he was getting a little short on diamonds at the moment. And Doc would not even notice anything amiss until it was too late and Grian would be gone by then.

As he crept down the mountain and reached the front lawn he noticed movement behind the house and sure enough, Doc was busy building something in the back. Well that made his plan a little more risky, but not impossible. Grian stayed hidden behind a few chests for a while, but Doc seemed to be fully immersed into his work. And he knew Doc good enough by now. If that guy was busy working on something it was almost as if he was in a different world. There would be no better time than now to pull off his plan.

He slipped through the iron doors and was welcomed by wild mumbling. Those villagers had always been way too noisy. The only good thing was, that they were constantly talking, so any noise he might make should go unnoticed. Now for the trading…

Grian put down a few Shulkerboxes, glancing at the door one last time before getting his first items out. Not a second later he was swarmed by a villagers, all holding up emeralds to trade with him. And trading he did. He pulled out one item after the other, storing the emeralds in his chest, looking at the growing number with a satisfied grin. He was just getting out the last stack of paper to trade for emeralds, when he felt hot breath ghosting over his neck, making him freeze up.

“Nobody touches my villagers”, a low and threatening voice whispered into his ear. He startled and turned around so fast he almost fell down.

Doc was standing right there, one eyebrow raised and just staring at him. Damn, with all the villagers talking he’d never heard the sound of the iron door. And he had been so close to finishing and getting away without being discovered. How was he supposed to talk his way out of this? He had been caught red handed after all.

“So Grian… I think a little payment is due. I can’t trade with them today after all. Or rather a little punishment. You wouldn’t want to start another Civil War now, would you?”

Grian swallowed and shook his head. He always felt so nervous around Doc. They had been on opposing teams constantly last season after all.

“Yeah, thought so. Now what can you offer me? How should we proceed?” Doc’s voice was still dangerously low and he was looking at him with a calculating grin.

“I could… Give you half the Emeralds I just got?”, he suggested slowly, but soon caved in when Doc shook his head. “Or you can have all of them. I don’t really need them that badly. You can have them.” Doc was still silently watching him and each second that went by without any answer made him even more nervous. Of all the Hermits only Doc had that affect on him. “Alright. Name your price. What can I pay to make it up? I got like… 15 diamonds left.”

And finally Doc decided to break his silence. “That’s a nice start. I’ll take those 15 diamonds… Oh and I’ll also take you.”

Grian’s eyes widened and he blushed at the last demand. He didn’t even know what Doc meant by that but his mind was already working in overdrive. His brain conjuring up images he’d never ever forget.

Doc chuckled, clearly amused by his state. “You’d think, someone running around the server kissing people would be a little less innocent. It’s nice to know you haven’t changed.”

“So you just said that to tease me?”, Grian whined, crossing his arms in front of his chest, feeling a little vulnerable under Doc’s intense stare.

“Oh no. I meant what I said. I’ll take you…”, he paused for a second, walking up to Grian and putting one of his fingers underneath Grian’s chin, so he was forced to look up at Doc, “on as a personal assistant for the prank I planned on good old Bdubs.”

“Oh…”

“Well what were you thinking? Expected me to do some dirty things to poor innocent Grian? I think Mumbo would kill me if I laid a finger on you.”

“Mumbo’s not my dad”, Grian grumbled, not even trying to deny that Doc was right about the other part. He needed to change the topic and he needed to change it fast, before he could be teased any more. “So a prank on your neighbour, right? Got anything in mind or do I have to plan it as well?”

“I got a little plan. I just needed someone to play a part in it. You happened to drop by at the right moment. I already prepared everything. You just need to lure Bdubs into my trap. He wouldn’t trust me enough to follow any instructions. And while everyone knows you are a prankster, you haven’t interacted with him enough to raise suspicion.”

Half an hour later, Grian regretted everything that had led him up to this moment in his life. “Is this really necessary for your big plan or are you just doing it to punish me?”

“Both. It is the best way to get his attention I think… And I also enjoy seeing you like that.” Doc chuckled darkly, looking Grian up and down. Grian was wearing a red and white dress that Doc had told him was apparently called a ‘Dirndl’. He also wore matching High Heels and bright red lipstick. Doc had even put a flower crown on Grian’s head that reminded him a little of his time as a Hippie.

Grian felt his face light up almost as bright as the dress he was wearing. Sure, he had worn a dress before when he dressed up to do an advert for Sahara. But this? This wasn’t what he had in mind when he left his base today.

“I hate you...”

Doc only laughed with his deep rumbling voice, giving Grian a few pats on the shoulder.

“You’ll do fine. Just, you know… Go over there and lure him into the trap and that’s that.”

Grian sighed in annoyance.

“Yeah. I get that. But why the hell am I wearing this freaking dress and those heels? Like it is obvious it’s me. I can’t pretend I’m anyone else. He’ll know as soon as he sees me.”

“Sure,” Doc just shrugged, “But that’s not the point. The point is to get his attention and to make him curious, you know. Bdubs can’t resist. And I enjoy seeing you suffer like that.”

Grian groaned, throwing one last dirty look at Doc before walking around the fence to Bdubs’ side of the house. He regretted the moment he had decided to sneak onto Doc’s property. He really shouldn’t have done that. But it was too late now and he would have to suffer the consequences.

Bdubs was lying at the side of his little pool on a chair, sun glasses on, simply relaxing. He hadn’t noticed Grian yet, despite the noises his shoes must have made.

Alright. He could do this. Sure, it was ridiculous, but he’d show Doc. If he looked like he felt uncomfortable, Doc would be even happier. So he would just rock this.

Without hesitation Grian swung one leg over Bdubs and just sat down on his waist, legs spread, putting his hands onto the other’s chest.

“Hey there, pretty.”

Grian could feel the way Bdubs startled, trying to jump up, but unable to do so because of the added weight on his lap. So he settled for simply sitting up, which only put him closer to Grian.

“Wha- What? Grian, dude? What’s going on?”

Grian grinned, raising one hand to caress Bdubs cheek, looking at him from bellow his eyelashes.

“Well, you know… I was just passing by and couldn’t resist such a good looking man...”

Bdubs looked utterly confused and Grian really couldn’t blame him for it. Weird things tended to happen quiet often when the Hermits were concerned, but that didn’t make them any less weird. And Grian walking around in a dress making his moves on someone? That was definitely not a common occurrence.

Grian slowly leaned forward, his breath already ghosting over Bdubs lips.

“We could have a little fun, if you are interested. Go somewhere nice and cosy. Just me and you.”, Grian whispered, before he leaned in for the kiss.

And then he looked at Bdubs, blinking a few times in confusion. His lips had only met a book that Bdubs had held up right between them.

“What is Doc planning this time?”, Bdubs voice came from the other side of the book and Grian’s eyes widened even more before he laughed nervously.

“Why would you think Doc has anything to do with it?”

Bdubs raised an eyebrow, looking at Grian as if he had just asked him why water was wet. “I’ve been his neighbour for a while. I know how he ticks. I mean, I heard you were running around kissing people lately, but this? This is a little over the top for that little game. I also saw you sneaking around Doc’s side of the fence about an hour ago. I might pretend to be stupid sometimes, but I can put two and two together. So what does he want you to do? Seduce me?” Bdubs snorted in amusement at his own question and slowly lowered the book still between them, his eyes looking Grian up and down. “No offence, but I don’t really swing that way, even if you are looking really pretty in that dress. And Doc should know that.”

Grian groaned. This wasn’t working out the way he had planned. Not at all. And he didn’t even want to think what else Doc had in store for him as a punishment now that this stupid plan had failed.

“Okay, okay. You got me. You are right. Doc wants me to lure you into his trap. I don’t know much about it. I guess it will probably end with you respawning in your bed though.”, Grian replied after a little hesitation. Surely Doc wouldn’t hear him. He was already at their agreed rendezvous point

"So you are helping him because...?" Bdubs looked at him in mild curiosity, eyes drifting over the dress once more. "Just for fun? Or does Doc have some dirt on you? I know he likes to collect dirt to get people to agree to his plans, the nasty goat."

"I broke into his villager trader..."

Bdubs laughed, a loud bellowing laugh that made Grian want to pout. He didn't enjoy being laughed at, especially not in the get up he was in right now. This was already embarrassing enough as it was.

"Not funny...", he murmured, holding up his hand and flicking Bdubs forehead softly.

"Well, it is kind of funny, you've got to admit. And rather interesting", Bdubs replied and Grian shuddered as he could feel a hand caressing his back, slowly wandering down, but just stopping above his butt. "I've been trading with his villagers as well. I bet I stole far more than you by now, but he never put me into make-up and a little dress. Not that I would look as good in it as you, but I think you need to consider that he's telling you something by that."

"Like what? That I look like a girl?" Grian snorted and rolled his eyes. He knew he was slender and not that tall and maybe had soft features, but he would not really pass as a girl and to call him girly would really be a far stretch.

"No. More like, he thinks you look hot."

Grian’s brain seemed to short circuit at that. He could feel heat rising to his face, sputtering a few times, unable to form words. The thought that Doc – stoic, cold, emotionless Doc could look at him and feel any sort of thing was unbelievable.

"Listen, Grian. I've been his neighbour for a while now. And we don't exactly have walls thanks to splitting this mansion down the middle. I have a pretty good view of his bedroom. And boys like you? Well considering who he had in his bedroom so far I'd say you'd fit right in to that. And I guess he's pretty good going by the sounds his partners make. So if you are interested in some no-strings-attached sex, I'd say go for it." Bdubs had a broad grin on his face and even though his tone was teasing, he sounded like he was telling the truth.

Grian glanced over his shoulder at the other half of the mansion. Above the fence he could see Doc's rather pink bedroom. An image popped into his mind of himself lying on top of that bed. Doc looming above him, looking down with that unreadable stoic expression of his. Would he like that? It had been a while since he had gotten some action – besides kissing that is. Maybe... Maybe having some fun would be a nice change of pace. Make him lose some of the stress that came with starting so many projects at the beginning of a new world.

His train of thought was interrupted by Bdubs laughing and Grian's head snapped back around.

"You are thinking about it, so it's probably already a done deal. Let's go then. You shouldn't leave Doc waiting. His ego couldn't bare it."

"Go...?", Grian echoed, looking at Bdubs in confusion. Hadn't he already said, that Doc was waiting with a deadly trap for Bdubs? Why would anyone walk into that? Or did Bdubs have some secret ace up his sleeve that would end in even more prankage?

"Yeah, go. I'm taking pity on you, dude. So I'm gonna be your wingman in this. A dead wingman, but a wingman nonetheless. And I rather like the thought of such an amazing builder and prankster to be indebted to me. You owe me a big one after this is over, Grian."

An enthusiastic smile spread on Grian's face and if he wasn't still sitting in Bdubs lap he would have jumped into his arms then and there. He settled for simply throwing his arms around Bdubs and planting a sloppy kiss onto his cheek, leaving a deep red lipstick mark on it. "Bdubs! You are the best! I'm gonna build you the most amazing thing you can imagine for this!" Bdubs just half heartedly patted his back until Grian scrambled backwards to stand up so they'd be able to get started.

"Lead the way, little miss."

Grian couldn't even muster up the energy to throw a glare at the name, he was just too delighted at the moment. This might not be going to plan, but Doc didn't need to know. As long as Bdubs walked into his trap, he could celebrate victory and Grian's punishment would end. And then – Grian bit his lower lip, throwing one last glance at the upper level of the mansion – well, he'd see what happened when the time came.

Grian slowly ascended the stairs to the shared mine below the mansion, stepping down carefully, not to stumble in the high heels. After only a few shaking steps, Bdubs sighed and stepped up next to him, holding out one arm to steady him. Grian looked at him with a thankful smile, took a few more steps and then stopped, earning a confused glance from Bdubs.

"I can't do this.", he whispered, looking at Bdubs arm that held him, "I know you'll respawn, but still... You never did anything mean to me."

"I can decide on my own, Grian. I'm a grown ass man. And right now I want to help out my good friend get rid of his debt and maybe get laid. No backing out now. I'm ready to go off with a bang... Or whatever other nasty method Doc chose. And I sure as hell will get him back for it so don't you worry your pretty head over it."

Bdubs gave him a reassuring smile and kept walking, half pulling Grian with him, who had to fall in step not to fall down. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Grian took a deep breath. Well, it was too late now to turn around and he wouldn't hesitate again. He'd much rather be indebted to Bdubs than to Doc, seeing what that maniac made him go through. After calming down a little Grian put a smile on his face and trying to pretend that everything was alright and going according to plan. Doc should be close by now after all.

"Just around the corner there! I prepared a nice little surprise for you. You just need to get it", Grian said and giggled a little, pretending that he had been able to convince Bdubs to come down here without knowing about the prank. As he looked at Bdubs stupid grin, Grian had to keep himself from looking too fondly at his friend.

"Wow, that is so nice! It is really amazing to have so many friends on this server! I can't wait to see the surprise!"

Bdubs let go of Grian's arm, throwing him one last smile. He jogged up to the corner and then turned to Grian, throwing him one last wink before walking on. A second later there was a deafening boom and hot wind and dust blew through the mine, making Grian's skirt flutter up.

"Well done." Doc stepped out of a side mine and Grian hurriedly pushed the fabric of his skirt down, throwing a glare in Doc's direction.

Doc didn't seem all to impressed by his glare and just kept walking over as Grian slowly stepped back. It only took a few steps for Grian's back to hit one of the walls and Doc's grin widened. He was looming over Grian, one hand pushed against the wall, the other gently resting under Grian's chin, making him look upwards. "Such a good boy, Grian. I feel like offering you something in return for your hard work."

"You are gonna let me keep my diamonds and the emeralds I traded."

An amused laugh left Doc's mouth as he shook his head. "No way. My villagers, my emeralds and my compensation. But you know I heard the rumours... Little Grian walking around and collecting kisses for some challenge. I'd be inclined to give you one more for your collection from the goat himself", Doc whispered in a low, promising voice. His thumb was gently caressing Grian's lower lip and Grian could feel his heart racing.

"Yeah...", he breathed out quietly, not sure what else to say below Doc's looming presence. The moment he answered Doc's lips were on his. It wasn't gentle and he knew his lips might be bruised and swollen later, but he didn't care. He put his arms around Doc, pulling him closer. And then he could feel a hand travelling up his leg, making his way under his skirt. Grian let out a little moan into the kiss, pressing his body even closer to Doc.

He needed to feel more. He needed... He wanted...

Suddenly an image sprang into his mind. Scar standing in front of his door, smiling at him, cheeks red and waving.

Grian pressed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of that thought. He didn't even know why he was thinking about that all of the sudden. He was about to get it on with one of the hottest guys on the server. This was no time to be distracted. He needed do savour this moment. It had been so long since he had any fun. He didn't even know why he had stopped going around the server looking for some fun... He had done it so often last season. And he couldn't even say that he was too busy getting started any more.

A hand grabbing his ass hard brought him out of his thoughts and back into the present. The tongue in his mouth was completely dominating him and he loved every second of it. They separated for a second and Grian opened his eyes again to look at Doc. Doc, who looked at him with such a hungry expression it send shivers through his whole body.

"How about we take this somewhere more comfortable? Not that I wouldn't just take you against this wall, but you don't seem like the type to do it outside."

Grian licked his lips, his heart beating so incredibly fast. He was trying to compose himself to give an answer, but words seemed to fail him at the moment. He hadn't expected for this to head in this direction, no matter what Bdubs had said. He finally settled to simply nod, earning himself a dark chuckle from Doc.

"Well then..."

Grian squeaked when he suddenly felt his feet lifting of the ground. Everything around him was shifting and suddenly he was lying atop of Doc's shoulder, like he weighed nothing and was just a sack to carry around. And he found himself kind of liking it...

The way up the stairs seemed to pass way too fast and it was as if only a few seconds had passed when he was thrown onto the pink sheets of Doc's bed. He looked up at Doc looming over him and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"I wanted to do this since I put you into this dress, you know? You look so fucking sexy in it.", Doc growled out, climbing on top of Grian, his hand caressing Grian's hip softly. "So fucking pretty."

And then his lips were on Grian's again and Grian could only whimper at the touch.

Doc was slowly unzipping the side of Grian's dress, pulling the fabric down.

Grian was about to get lost in the sensation, his hips bucking upwards on their own accord. And suddenly he froze. His mind going back to the desperate kiss he had shared with Scar in the End. The way Scar had looked at him. The way his heart had started beating faster. Oh damn it. Why was he thinking of that now?

Doc stopped suddenly, looking at Grian in question. He had probably noticed the way he had tensed up. "You alright?"

“Yeah. Yeah, keep going… Your hand was a little cold. That’s all”,he lied and smiled, letting his own hands wander over Doc’s back.

Doc looked at him as if searching for something, but then shrugged and bend down again, his lips going for Grian’s neck, gently nibbling the skin there. His mouth kept trailing down, leaving a burning hot trail on Grian’s skin.

Grian felt a wave of pleasure running through him, closing his eyes again as he threw his head back, only for his mind to go back to the time when he had made out with Scar in his base. Suddenly this felt so wrong and he didn’t even understand why. He just knew that he didn’t want to do it any more. He put his hands onto Doc’s chest and with gentle force he pushed the other away a little.

"I... Sorry, I can't. I'm just... I don't know. You are a fucking attractive guy but I'm... I guess I'm not in the mood. I keep getting distracted."

Doc heaved a sigh, but without Grian needing to say anything else he pulled the dress back up, patting his head and then standing up again. "Your clothes are in the closet around the corner. Take your time. I'm gonna go work off some steam."

“I am really sorry, Doc”, Grian mumbled, lowering his gaze. He honestly did feel bad for stopping, even if he hadn’t wanted to go on.

“No need to apologize or explain. It’s alright.” When Doc had almost reached the stairs down, he turned around again to look at Grian. "If you ever change your mind about this, you know where to find me. No pressure though. I prefer my partners to enjoy themselves…"

Grian stayed in the bed for a few more seconds, starring up at the ceiling. Damn. What had just happened? He must be really tired or something like that. Maybe he had been going around kissing too many people that his brain started mixing everything up… Yeah that sounded about right. Maybe he just needed to spend a few days without kissing anybody and then he would be focused on the task again…

It couldn’t have anything to do with Scar. All of this was just a game after all.

#🍉 stories #tkc #hermitship #hermitshipping #gridoc #i'm not 100 percent happy with the chapter #but i still like it #so i decided against rewriting it #and yeah Grian has a huge crush #on scar that is #he is just too much in denial about it #poor scar

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