#big monster boy tries to look put together. Polite :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hansensgirl · 4 years ago

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cattivo fino all'osso.

summary. | He’s bad to the bone, sick as a dog. But he knows that you like him a lot.

warnings. | Dubcon (dubious consent), dark themes, thievery, malicious intentions, smut, slight angst, unprotected sex, naivety, manipulation, gas lighting, obsessive behaviourism, Daddy kink, spoiling, major age gap (she’s twenty, he’s nearly touching forty), face fucking, corruption kink, virginity loss, overstimulation, grooming, step dad/step daughter relationship, cheating, infidelity, fingering, finger sucking, smoking, spanking, use of a hitachi wand, thigh riding, slight mean!dom!charles, soft dom!charles, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, slight violence + more. 18+, DARK FIC

word count. | 15,433 words.

pairings. | Dark!Step Dad!Charles Blackwood x Innocent!Step Daughter!Reader.

authors note. | thank you so fucking much for 4.8k!! i’ll forever be grateful to everyone who supports and follows me, i love you all so fucking much. i wish everyone good in life and i hope you’re all happy and doing well. if you ever wanna talk i’m always here, no matter what! (unless i’m asleep or a bit busy.) i’m so sorry for the long wait, please enjoy. <33 also in this fic, hitachi wands exist so yeah! thank you so much @mypoisonedvine and @bbbbearr for being amazing betas! love you guys!

Fine wool that comes from Italy tailors his suit, only the best of the best. He barely remembers how he met her, as certain memories might as well be forgotten. The ceremony is small, only her and the priest. He doesn’t mind — he rather prefers it, actually. He doesn’t know much about his wife — other than the fact that she has a daughter and is quite wealthy. His best bet is that the daughter is some bratty five year old. A clandestine jewel slips onto her old finger whereas an expensive gold ring adorns his. He looks down at it, watching his 24 karat reflection stare back at him and he just can’t help but smirk. “You may now kiss the bride.” The priest says cheerfully, and Charles has no choice but to hold back a devastating sigh. He leans in for a kiss hesitantly, ready to convince her to do all kinds of things. The wedding ends with a small cake, gifts sent from family members that weren’t invited and aching limbs.

“Honey, you’re too tired for us to have fun… We’ll save it all for tomorrow, okay?” He says, pressing a lame kiss to her forehead. She simply hums and drifts off into dreamland, leaving Charles behind. He waits for her breathing to slow down and then starts planning his next move. A glass of whiskey sits in his hands and he’s leaned back in an expensive leather chair, plush velvet pillows comforting him. Tones of beiges and browns compliment his caramel twisted hair perfectly, all falling under the same colour palette that would have an artist drooling in awe. He looks around the house — admiring the fact that portraits of her father and rare paintings are decorating the house. Not one photo though, no. They’re too ostentatious for photographs — photographs wouldn’t flatter their ego like portraits do.

He loathes it all, that big green monster known as jealousy peering over his shoulder. He wants the glory, he wants the richness, he wants it all… and in due time, it’ll come. It’s a mix of jealousy, envy, anger and frustration. He downs the rest of the amber liquid, exhaling as it burns his throat. He sets the glass down and stands up, shoving his hands in his pocket. His feet pad against the expensive floors, and he wanders about the house. He pulls drawers open, empties different vases and boxes and he even takes down those paintings and portraits. His eyes go wide as he marvels at the sight behind one of the portraits, a safe. It’s almost laughable, an heiress who’s worth millions of dollars has a measly, pathetic way of hiding her safe keepings and valuables. He carefully hangs the painting back up, remembering it very well for another time.

He wonders where else there could be hidden in the large castle-like mansion. Jewels, money, papers for properties… god — he nearly swoons at the thought of it all. He decides to retire to bed, knowing he’ll need enough rest for his shenanigans that’ll soon begin the next day. He slips into a silky set of pyjamas, before slipping under the cashmere blankets and turning on his side. He shuts his eyes but occasionally opens them up every now and then, far too excited and nervous to get some shut eye. Sleep sleep sleep… His mind chants, begging for some rest after tiresome spinning like a spindle with devious schemes. Soon, though, the liquid amber takes him over and he eventually shuts his eyes, not at all prepared for the true treasure he is going to find.

The day starts early for the newlyweds, butlers pulling open the lavish curtains that decked out the grand windows. Sunlight fills the room and blinds Charles at the same time. His wife is long gone, off to do some pre-honeymoon treatments and shopping trips. He shoos them away and gets up from the bed eagerly, his caramel laced locks are twisted in knots. He threads his fingers through his hair and waltzes into the lavish bathroom — admiring his reflection in the spotless, large mirror. The bathroom alone was more opulent than anything Charles had ever laid his eyes on. He felt like a newly crowned king, getting ready to sit atop his diamond throne. Charles chuckles at the absurd thought, before reaching for the toothbrush that was laid out for him. After numerous minutes of self-pampering and whistling, Charles was finally ready.

He walks with a bounce in each of his steps, a cheerful smile on his face and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. His breezy, light linen shirt perfectly frames him and he doesn’t care about anything menial anymore. The enticing smell of breakfast fills his nostrils and his stomach sounds with a loud grumble, demanding food. He sighs and thanks one of the butlers as they pull out a chair. He sits at the head of the lengthy oak table that had numerous engravings on the legs. He politely asks the butlers to serve him two waffles with syrup and blueberries on top. “Thank you, kind sir.” He smiles at the older man who simply keeps quiet and nods — already working his way onto Charles’s list of who to be wary of.

Charles moans at the sweet, delectable taste of his breakfast. The noise makes everyone in the room shy and they quickly leave him alone — ready to keep the house in shape. He scarfs it all down with ease and tops it off with a glass of earl grey tea with some honey drizzled in. It soothes his throat and calms him down. He leaves his dishes on the table and starts to wander again -- through the kitchen and other rooms in the house. The mansion is no different to something like a palace. “Hey, you! Come here.” He calls out to a maid who was silently dusting one of the many fireplaces. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?” She sheepishly asks, bowing her head as she looks at the floor. “I want you to get everyone here, right now.” He ordered.

“E- Everyone, sir?” She squeaks out in shock. He grumbles because he absolutely hates repeating himself. “Mhm, and if you don’t get them in the next two minutes, you won’t see the inside of this house again.” He growled, sending her off. He watches as she leaves and picks up a box that had his name on it. Along with it were many more gifts that were sent from almost every high society blue blooded person there was in America. He opened it up and pulled out a pipe — a beautiful one to be exact. The wood has speckles of the finest gold in it and a gold band wrapped around the bowl of it. He lights it up and takes a drag from it, before pulling it away from his mouth and puffing the grey smoke away like it is a habit of his. “The staff, Mr. Blackwood.” One of the butlers says, making Charles turn around.

About two dozen people stand in front of him, all of them wearing simple cotton shirts as their uniform. “I want you all to go home and do whatever you miserable people do, only come back when I tell you to.” He orders, before taking another drag from the pipe. “But Sir-” One of them speaks up, their voice quiet. He quickly shuts them up with a death-like glare and he dismisses them. Hushed voices whisper on and on about him but he doesn’t care — no, why would he? He just became a member of one of America’s most richest families. He knows people are bound to talk, he’s known that all his life. Charles puts out his pipe and lets out one last puff of smoke. He opens up more gifts, scoffs at the fake well wishes and moves onto the next thing that he lays his eyes on.

The clicking of heels grabs his attention. “I said to go home!” He yells out, before looking back to his pile of gifts. “Well, I mean… This is my home.” You shyly say, clasping your sweaty hands together. Charles turns around abruptly and god, he’s breathless. Innocent beauty fills his eyes and you’re the only thing he can focus on. “You must be Charles, my new dad!” You cheer, walking up to him. He only nods his head, not able to find any words to even cultivate a simple phrase. “I’m your step daughter!” You say, before giving him your name. He repeats it and you can’t help but smile at the way it rolls off his tongue. “It’s nice, very beautiful.” He compliments, placing his hands on his hips.

“Like you.”

You can’t hold back the strong smile that creeps onto your face and neither can he. “Your mother never mentioned your age.” He adds and you look down at the floor. “I… It’s a thing… usually, when she tries to remarry, nobody wants to marry someone who has a twenty year old daughter already.” You explain, your voice a bit sad. “I’m sure it hurts, right?” He pokes and prods, testing to see how far you could handle him and his intrusive questions. “Never really thought about that, to be honest.” You confess bluntly. But you have, and boy does it hurt. “My mom told me all about you!” You exclaim after a few moments of awkward silence. “Really, huh?” He baits, raising his eyebrows. “Mhm, she’s so whipped! She always lights up whenever I bring you up, it’s so sweet.” You admit, pulling at the sleeves of your knitted cardigan.

He smirks, knowing that his own charming ways have successfully worked it’s magic. “Anywho, enjoy your gifts! I look forward to getting to know you.” You quickly bid, before scurrying off. Charles’s eyes follow you, until you’re out of his sight. His tongue pushes at his cheek and he can’t help but to chuckle to himself. He rewinds the interaction like it’s his favourite film and it replays in his mind. He can’t forget the way you fail to look him in the eyes, the way you were shy and oh, he could just tell you were an innocent little thing. A poor girl who has the luck of not being corrupted by the nasty world that turns saints into sinners. He then realizes that out of all the money, out of all the jewels and out of all the gifts there were — you were the most precious one of them all.

You don’t know what to do, truly. These… tingles aren’t rare for you. They were quite common, actually. You never knew what to do about them, hell, you don’t know what they are and you’re too scared to ask anyone. But they’ve never been this strong. You like Charles, and those few minutes of interaction only have you confused about how you like him. You rub your thighs together and it does nothing but worsens the feeling, making you let out a loud whine. You decide to ignore it, but you can’t help but to notice the pooling slickness in your panties. It’s a lot and for a second you’re worried, but then you get used to it. You already had your period for the month, so you just leave it as it is. You groan as you realize what you forgot to tell Charles.

You rush out from your bedroom and walk slowly to the foyer. Each step made you whimper, the slight friction to your pussy teasing you. “Charles?” You call out before you’re greeted by him sitting in a chair whilst he has his new pipe in his mouth. You frown at the smell of smoke and tobacco, hating how disgusting it was. But the sight of him was delicious. You bit your lips and admired his hands, his lips, his face, just everything about him. “Charles?” You called out quietly before looking down at your feet. “Yes, babydoll?” He looks at you, exhaling one last puff of smoke before putting the pipe out. “I- I forgot to tell you, my mom is going to be coming home tomorrow night — she gave me this note to give to you.” You tell him, handing him the folded up piece of paper.

Charles silently celebrates, hoping that your mother would have to push whatever spontaneous trip she went on forward. He silently nods at you, “Thank you, babydoll.” You let out a small whimper and rub your thighs together at the nickname. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm?” He asks, beckoning you towards him. “N- Nothing, Charles.” You lie, trying to disregard the very obvious tingles in your core. “Now, now… I hate it when people lie to me, okay? And don’t call me Charles.” He growls and it goes straight to your pussy. You whimper again, only this time it's louder. The overly debauched sound makes Charles’s cock stir to life, throbbing in his expensive boxers.

“I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what’s happening… It’s really weird and plus, I don’t know you that well.” You shamefully squeak out after apologizing to him. “Hmm…” Charles’s mind travels to the deepest, darkest parts ever. Such a soft, innocent, sweet, docile little doll I have all for myself… “What should I call you?” You ask, inching closer to him. He rakes his blue-grey eyes up and down your beautiful body, only now realizing how short your dress is and how strong your arousal was. The bitter scent of it fills the air and he lets out a hum of both satisfaction and delight. “...” He ponders in silence and gets distracted every now and then by you, before he comes up with the perfect name.

“Call me daddy, babydoll.” He smirks.

“Ok, Daddy…” You sheepishly smile. “Good girl, now come here.” He orders and pats his lap. You sat on his lap gently, figuring that this was normal — it felt normal, right? He grabs your thighs and slides his hands up and down your bare, caressing you softly. He inches closer and closer to your soft panties and soon pulls them down, making you gasp and nearly jump off his lap. He growls and grabs your hips harshly, pulling you closer to him. “Don’t be scared, baby… Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? I just wanna help my babydoll out.” He says softly, rubbing small circles on your skin. “Uhm, well…” You didn’t know how to explain the weird feeling to him. You had so many questions about it too, but you were scared that he would judge you.

“It’s my job to take care of you now, okay? And if you don’t tell Daddy what’s wrong, how can I help you?” He reasons. You nod your head and realize he makes a good point — but you’re still hesitant. Seconds that are almost silent soon pass by — the only sounds being your heaving chests and your thrumming hearts. His grip on you tightens and you whimper, the slight pain being too much for your sensitive body. “I have these uh… these tingles?” You say, sounding so unsure of yourself. Charles can’t help but coo at you, you really were an innocent little girl. “They started when I was a wee thing, or a uh, a teenager! Sorry…” You ramble adorably.

“Tell me more, dove.” He probes, daring himself to inch his hands to an intimate part of your body. “Oh, uh, okay!” You chew at your lip as you think about what to say. “Spit it out, dove… I hate waiting, and I’d hate to force it out of that pretty mouth of yours.” He growls as he quickly grows impatient with your shy ways. You gently grab one of his hands and settle it above your core, but it isn’t touching your mound. Charles so desperately wants to inch his hands into your panties but he knows that he has to be patient, he has to wait. “Sometimes they’re not too strong, and sometimes they’re so unbearable and- and I just don’t know what to do! Is it normal? Am- Am I weird?” You prattle.

“It’s not weird at all, baby. It’s completely normal…” He trails off, thinking about what you said. “I just don’t know what to do!” Charles looks at the times and notices that it was almost lunch, and he wasn’t going to miss out on eating expensive food. “Well, since it’s almost lunch time, we need to eat! Can you cook?” He asks, pulling you off his lap. He throws one of his arms around your shoulders and leads you to the kitchen. “Mhm…?” You sound so unsure — because you are. One minute ago he was touching in places your mother told you that no boy your age should be and was demanding you to tell him a secret of yours. But the next, he treats you like you’re nothing more than a friend.

He stands behind you and follows you around like a shadow as you do your dance around the grand kitchen. You feel like prey and he’s the predator, just waiting to pounce on you whenever he wants. You light the stove up and heat up some leftovers biscuits from yesterday's lunch. “I uh, I made these yesterday…” You say and the crackle of fire coming to life fills your ears. “I love biscuits, they may be basic but they’re still one of my favourites!” He joins in, standing right behind you. Gently, he settles both of his hands on to your waist in a calming manner, making you sigh in delight. His touch sends shivers to both your spine and core and you furrow your eyebrows together.

“What’s wrong, hm?” He poses his question with a playful squeeze to your waist and you giggle with pure innocence. “When you- Actually… nevermind.” You trail off, thinking he’ll be disgusted with you. He squeezes your waist again and rests his chin on your shoulder before leaning close to your ear. “Hmm, maybe I should tell your dearest mother that she raised her daughter to be disobedient…” He threatens out loud and you quickly shout out in protest. “No! Please don't, ‘m sorry!” You plead. Your mother is quite strict, and god forbid that you’d ever disobey her or anyone. “When you t- touched me, more tingles came…” You tell him, staring at the biscuits. “Aw… Well if you bear up with them just for a few more days then I could help you out!” He exclaims, turning down the fire for you.

“Really? You’d really help me out?” You ask enthusiastically, your eyes lighting up with disbelief. Charles raises his eyebrows and smirks as he nods his head in conformation. You squeal like a little child on their third birthday, wrapping your arms around the conniving man who is your step father and you push your head into the crook of his neck. He hugs you back and presses a kiss to your cheek, making you smile. You pull away and take the biscuits off the stove before ushering Charles to sit down. “Hmm… How about we eat outside?” He asks, opening the door to the lavish backyard. “Anything you want, Daddy.”

Your leg bounces as you become increasingly nervous. Ever since Charles came, your tingles have grown to worsen. You remind yourself constantly that it’s normal, and that he’ll help you out. You’ve begun to be weary, though. So here you sit, in Charles’s bedroom, waiting for him to finish his bath. You flop back into his soft bed and your dress rides up your thighs, scrunching up at your hips. You hear him whistle an Ella Fitzgerald tune, and you can’t help but to sway your head in rhythm. Charles continues to whistle as he steps out of the tub and drains it before wrapping his lower half with a cotton terry cloth towel. He swings the door open and the calming tune stops abruptly, and you frown like a brat.

Charles’s eyes went straight to your bare thighs that he would just adore to have wrapped around his head. He catches a glimpse of your soaking panties and clicks his tongue. The sound itself isn’t too loud but it’s enough to snap you out of your hazy daydreams of paradises and false promises. You sit up and don’t bother pulling down your skirt. “Uhm, hi?” You squeak out, waving at him. He disregards your greeting and stalks closer and closer to you, a dangerous scowl on his sculpted face that all but terrifies you. Drops of water cascade down his body and you eye him with no shame at all. You look back up at him and stifle a whimper and you feel your tingles come back.

“Didn’t I tell you to be patient?” He asks with a menacing growl that rumbles in his chest. You nod silently, too scared to even dare to utter a single word to him. “Words, doll, or else you won’t like what’ll happen next.” He threatens, leaning down to trap you under him. You gulp thickly and your bottom lip trembles in fear. “Yes, daddy…” You whisper quietly, bowing your head down in disgrace. He grabs your arms roughly and pulls you closer to his frowning face and his eyes are blown out with both anger and lust. “So then why can’t you wait? Hm? Are you that Goddamn desperate?” He queries, and you can’t hold back the sudden flinch that jerks your body. “N- No! I’m sorry, I really am!” You apologize to him softly.

Once again, the slightly bitter yet sweet scent of your arousal fills the air and dwindles there. “Fuck, so damn needy.” He curses under his breath -- the scandalous, foul word making you gasp. “I think you’ve been a bit of a bad girl, hm?” He ponders out loud but leaves no room for you to speak. He sits down on the bed and pulls you with him, laying you across his lap. “Daddy? Are you gonna hurt me? Are you gonna tell my mom?” You ask him innocently — your voice filled with worry and curiosity. You squirm in his lap and furrow your eyebrows when something touches your stomach. It’s long and as hard as a rock. “Not if you tell her, princess. Everything we do is our secret, okay? And you don’t reveal secrets, ever.” He reassures you before pulling up the skirt of your dress.

Cool air hits your scantily clad butt and you giggle at the feeling. Goosebumps crawl all over your skin and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t even realize that he dodges your first question as you are too distracted by him. His large, warm hand caresses your ass and your eyes flutter shut. It’s soothing in its own way and you realize that nobody’s ever touched you the way he does. He pulls his hand away and your bottom lip juts out in a bratty, needy pout. His hand returns to your ass, smacking it harshly and brutally. “Ow!” You cry out in pain, choking on a gut wrenching sob that would make the bullies at your school call you a cry baby.

“Shh, it’s okay angel…” He soothes, gently rubbing the irritated skin. Your chest tightens at the pain and Charles can’t help but pity you. “It’ll be over soon, baby, don’t worry.” He lulls to you, making you nod your head. “O- Okay, Daddy…” You whisper out, trusting him. He pulls his hand away and spanks your other cheeks with a sounding pop that reverberates throughout the room. The thing touching your stomach is even harder now, slightly throbbing under your soft skin. He does the same to the next cheek, delivering an even harder blow that makes your whimper louder than before. The tears have started ages ago and they stream down your face quicker than the way rivers flow. They soak into Charles’s left thigh and he lets out a “sh” to soothe you.

He continues to spank you until his hand hurts, until his skin is aching but not as much as you are in pain; and even then he didn’t want to stop. He feels your arousal leaking out of you like a waterfall, slickness coating your inner thighs and his towel. He can’t deny the fact that he’s so aroused that his cock hurts. It throbs and weeps, pre-cum leaking from the tip and the clear fluid stains his blue towel. “Shh, it’s okay now, baby. I’m all done now, Daddy’s finished.” He lifts you up with ease -- large muscles bulging -- and he settles you onto his lap. You wrap your legs around his well-built torso and the squelching sounds from your pussy makes you furrow your eyebrows. Your wet pussy rests right on top of his hard cock and the tingles are stronger than they’ve ever been.

You push your tear-soaked face into the crook of his neck, sobbing at the immense pain that radiated from your butt. He runs his hands over the bruised skin and whispers sweet nothings to you -- they aren’t nothing to you, though. You soon calm down and your pain dwindles down to nothing as you choose to ignore it. You look up at Charles and he looks at you, smirking at the love in your eyes. “Such a good girl, took your punishment so well.” He praises and you can’t help but to giggle at his words. Your face flushes with heat and you shy away from him. Involuntarily, your hips buck against Charles’s cock and you both let out lewd sounds. You moan softly and whimper, but Charles growls ferociously like a starved animal. Your pussy throbs at the sound and you whine loudly, clenching around nothing.

“What’s wrong baby? Hm? Tell Daddy what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.” He slurs slightly, moving your head from the crook of his neck. “The tingles…” You tell him, your voice small and weak. “Aw… Poor baby, you want Daddy to make your tingles go away?” He asks, pinching the bruised skin of your ass. You groan at the pain and your clit thrums under your panties. He fondles with the skirt of your dress and finds the zipper with his broad fingers. Slowly, he teasingly pulls it down and passes the soft fabric over your ass and down your beautiful legs. He throws the now pointless fabric onto the floor and admires the way your breasts bounce as they’re freed. He wants nothing more than to suck one of your hardened nipples into his mouth whilst he fucks you into oblivion.

But he has to wait, he needs to be patient.

He watches as goosebumps crawl all over your skin and he listens intently to the breathy moan you let out. Your nipples twist into harder peaks and they ache in such a way that you’re desperate to do anything so that you’re relieved of your tingles. Charles hooks his fingers into the band of your panties and he pulls them down, softly apologizing when you let out a whimper as the fabric passes over your bruised ass. You’re bare in front of him and you feel shy, slightly insecure under his gaze. You move the hands that were wrapped around him and you use them to cover up your naked body.

“No, no… Don’t do that baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He husks, roughly pushing your hands away from your body. “Daddy? I have a question…” You tell him, pure wonder and curiosity laced in your gentle voice. “Tell Daddy, go ahead baby.” He ushers, pressing a few kisses along your collarbone. “What that pointy, hard, big thingy there?” You ask innocently and Charles nearly chokes. What a fucking jackpot. “This, baby?” He asks, bringing your hand to wear his hard cock is. “Mhm! It’s very, very big… What’s it supposed to do?” Your words make Charles blush and you’ve truly flattered him. “That’s my cock, baby.” He tells you, and you can’t help but to repeat after him. “Your cock…” You whisper back and he nods.

“And it’s all yours baby, but you wanna know what isn’t yours?” He insinuates, and you nod desperately. One of his hands cups your bare, wet pussy and you moan at his touch. “This is mine, you’re mine.” He growls, unable to control the ferocious animal inside him. You nod in agreement and buck your hips against his hand, grinding yourself on him. “Shit… So slutty, hm? Just can’t help yourself, can you baby?” He degrades, groaning at the way your slick covers his hand. You gasp at the insult but also furrow your eyebrows with confusion at his second sentence. It then dawns on you as to what he means so you decide to nod in agreement and he chuckles at you.

He flips you over abruptly and you’re amazed at his strength -- even though you’ve ogled at his large muscles quite a bit beforehand. He crawls in between your legs and slots himself there. You’re forced to keep your legs open, even though you’re skeptical. It felt wrong… Maybe it was? “D- Daddy, is this wrong? I mean, it feels wrong…” You ask, looking down to your barren legs. “No baby, you’re doing great!” He answers incorrectly and you shake your head. “N- No… Not like that…” You whisper, scared to look at the burly man that knows you better than yourself.

“Baby… Do you think I’d let you do something bad? Hm? Never, this isn’t wrong… Everything I do is right!” He explains and then it dawns you. Everything he says is true and god, how dare you not believe him? He’s older, wiser and he knows better than you. “‘M sorry, Daddy!” You apologize, voice sincere and you’re ready to repent for all your sins. “It’s okay baby, just lay back and Daddy will make those tingles go away…” He whispers and you eagerly obey him. “Do you ever get tingles?” You ask him, parting your legs even wider than before. “Of course… I have tingles right now.” He tells you, his patience ebbing away at the edges. “Can I make them go away?” You follow up, your eyes brightening with interest and intrigue.

Charles lets out a coo, and he revels at how innocent and adorable you are. “Yeah, you wanna make my tingles go away?” He asks, his cock throbbing as millions of lewd, obscene thoughts run through his already twisted mind. “Yes please! Please Daddy?” You beg him desperately and he chuckles. “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you? You want my cock so bad…” He degrades and the words send a wave of neediness throughout you. A spark of confidence ignites in you and even though you don’t know much of what he said, you still choose to repeat them all after him. “Mhm, I’m such a needy slut for you, Daddy!” You squeal, and Charles can’t help but moan.

Suddenly, he wraps his large hand around your throat and squeezes the sides. You don’t know what succubus has possessed you but you let out a wanton, salacious moan anyways. He pulls you close to his face -- which was flushed red -- and he stares into your eyes. His beautiful, steel blue orbs are now blown out with lust but the feral look he gives you is just as good as the rest. “Such a dirty mouth, should I wash it out with soap? Or stuff it full with my cock?” He growls and smashes his lips against yours. The kiss is messy… It’s sloppy and you have no idea as to what you’re doing. You try to keep up with him and you easily let him dominate you.

His tongue explores your mouth and you try to do the same to him, but you just can’t. You whimper against his mouth and slick drenches your thighs. Years of pent up arousal only now coming back at ten-fold and the dam just breaks. He pulls away and puts you on your knees. You look up at him like a kicked puppy and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. Both of your chests heave and you’re face to face with his cock. He pulls the towel away and you gasp, earning a chuckle from Charles.”Daddy… It’s so big…” You tell him and he’s flattered. “Thank you, baby. I’m truly flattered, do you want to touch it?” He says, smiling down at you. “Yes please! But- but, how?” You ask him, a bit nervous but also excited.

He takes your hand and brings it up to his cock. His other hand plays with your fingers until they’re wrapped around him. It was hard and hot under your soft touch. It throbs and thrums, veins trailing the sides and his aching tip weeps with pearls of pre-cum. The slick stickiness of it rolls down his cock and soaks your hand. You can barely fit him in your hand, his cock being impossibly thick. He groans under your touch and he places his hands on the back of your head. Roughly, he guides your mouth towards his cock and shoves it past your spit covered lips. You gag and try to push against him -- a silent way of telling him “no, it’s too much.”

But he only just pushes your hands away and thrusts his cock deeper into your mouth. His manly flavour fills your mouth -- soaks in your tongue and you find yourself falling in love with it. Lewd gags and chokes reverberate around the room and they’re music to Charles’s ears. His cock is all the way down your throat and you’re struggling to breath, but that doesn’t matter. He moans loudly and then abruptly pulls his cock out from your mouth. You gasp for air and take in a deep breath before smiling up at him. His cock glistens with spit and you’re ready to take him again. Your jaw already hurts but it’s okay. “Shit, so good. You look so fucking gorgeous with my cock stuffing your mouth, can’t wait to see you covered with my cum.” He groans, holding your chin up.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion, not understanding one of the words. “You see, baby, when you make the tingles go away just like that then something will fill up your mouth -- and you’re going to have to swallow it, okay? Can you be a good girl and do that?” He tells you and you immediately nod your head. “Good.” He nods, before squeezing your jaw open with one of his strong hands. Your mouth pops open and is soon filled with his cock once again -- your gags spurring him on. Saliva and drool leaks from your mouth in waterfalls, and so does your tears. He bobs your head up and down his cock, moaning loudly and cursing under his breath. “Oh fuck, yes yes, your mouth feels so good!” He shouts loudly, the praise going straight to your aching pussy.

“C’mon baby, suck my cock like one of those cherry popsicles I bought you, use your tongue.” He orders and you obey. You hollow your cheeks out to the best of your ability -- not knowing what you’re doing. Your tongue weakly drags along underneath of his cock and it bumps up a few throbbing veins every now and then. You spread your legs and sway your hips back and forth against the bed and you don’t even realize what you’re doing -- but Charles does. The head of his cock bumps up against the back of your throat and you let out a moan, sending him closer and closer to his release. Spit travels everywhere and strings of it are leaking down to your chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum… And you’re going to swallow it all up, right? That’s all you’re good for, just a cocksleeve for me to use- fuck, just to make Daddy feel good.” He growls like an animal, thrusting his hips into your mouth.

He fucks your mouth at a brutal pace, his heavy, swollen balls slapping your spit-soaked chin. He grips your head tightly and then his hips still. His balls tighten up and a groan rumbles in his chest. “Oh fuck, yes yes yes!” He moans as he hits his climax. Warmth fills your mouth and his cock spurts out thick, white ropes of cum. His cum slips down your throat but also fills up your mouth. The copious amounts of his cream leaks out of your mouth and drips down to your chest. Charles thrusts his cock into your mouth a few more times, dragging out his orgasm until he’s almost on the brink of being overstimulated. He slowly pulls it out of your mouth and your jaw aches immensely.

He reaches up and softly massages your face, easing the pain away. “Thank you, Daddy…” You whisper out, your voice all hoarse yet still so soft. “You’re welcome, baby.” He smirks down at your tired face. “I like that a lot, Daddy… I like making your tingles go away!” You shyly admit -- flustered and even more aroused than ever. “That’s the point my dumb little baby, you’re supposed to like pleasing Daddy!” He tells you and you let out a gasp of realization at his words. “Now lay back, kitten, Daddy needs to make your tingles go away.” He pushes you back against the soft bed and spreads your legs wide open. Your slick has leaked everywhere -- all over your thighs, on the bed sheets and down to your butt too.

He rubs your glistening folds with his fingers and your wetness nearly drowns his digits. A searing, hot, burning feeling comes alive in your pussy and you let out a loud moan. Your body heats up at the pleasure and you’re hot to the touch. He teases you, fingers running through your folds, dancing around your clit and they also prod at your incredibly tight hole. “Daddy… That feels so good!” You moan out loudly, your doe eyes rolling back into your skull. “Yeah it does, just wait until I fuck you -- God it’s going to be amazing.” He groans, rubbing your clit in soft circles. More slick drools out of your hole as he plays with your sensitive pearl of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your spin and you’re unable to describe what the feeling is like, but you’re sure it’s something sent from heaven.

You can’t stop moaning as his fingers bring you closer and closer to your release. “D- Daddy? I feel like I uh, like I need to use the bathroom!” You sheepishly tell him, and he lets out a coo. “No you don’t, it’s going to make the tingles go away baby, you’re going to like this a lot.” He growls, rubbing your clit even harder and faster. A searing flame spears through your stomach and the knot that inside your tightens up. Your moans of pleasure grow loud, maybe a bit too loud for Charles’s taste. He shoves his other fingers into your mouth to quiet you, and you immediately suck them just as if they're his cock. The sight makes Charles even harder than before, as he hadn’t become flaccid yet. Your back arches off the bed and your eyes shut tightly as you cum for the first time ever.

“Oh Daddy!” You shriek behind his fingers, the knot inside you bursting. More stronger tingles pierce through your poor spent body and your clit is throbbing. Slightly creamy, almost clear cum leaks out of you and the feeling becomes too much for you. He continues to rub your button, and your body squirms immensely. You feel like you should tell him to stop but you know you shouldn’t. “There you go, my slutty little baby… You liked that a lot? I know you did.” He coos, making you heat up from his attention. Your cunt is coated with your cum and it drips everywhere, the sight makes Charles go feral. You clench around nothing, pulsing with pleasure. He soaks his fingers with your cum, absolutely drenching them until your pussy is a bit more cleaner than before.

He brings those same digits up to his mouth and sucks your delicious, sweet cum off. He moans around his fingers and stares at you dead in your doe eyes. You whimper and feel more wetness gush out of you, your tingles coming back once again. You spread your legs a bit wider and Charles already knows that you want him to help out. “What do you want, baby? Hm? You gotta tell me, or else I can’t help you out.” He husks salaciously after pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a sounding ‘pop’. “I have more tingles, Daddy… Can you make them go away?” You shy ask, slightly ashamed yet so goddamn barren. Your words are mumbled and garbled, as his fingers still occupy your mouth.

“Of course my little whore, anything for you.” He grins at you, his pearly whites making you giggle with butterflies in your stomach. His fingers are now spit soaked, adding onto the slick that pours out of you. This time, prods at your tight hole and your whimper. “D- Daddy, that feels funny… Kinda like that, that thing that happened… Why did stuff come out of me? Is it good?” You ask behind his digits that are soon pulled out. Wet fingers caress your beautiful, innocent face and he simply chuckles. “It felt good though, right? That’s supposed to happen, and that wet stuff is perfectly normal… It’s like sweet syrup, okay?” He shuts down your pondering mind and you nod your head.

He pushes two fingers into your spasming cunt, making you unexpectedly shriek. “Oh!” You moan deliciously as Charles quickly finds your sweet spot. Your entire body is filled with immense pleasure and Charles begins to pull his finger out. You squeeze him tightly and all he can think about is stretching you out with his thick cock. “Felt full…” You whisper to yourself, and he quickly pushes two digits into you. You let out whimpers of pain and pleasure from the stretch and he scissors you open slightly. You don’t know what to do with your empty, sweaty hands except for gripping the bed with them. Beneath your fingers is crumpled cloth and your arch your back off of it.

He pushes his fingers deeper, filling you up to the hilt. They're pressed up against your g-spot and he begins to thrust his fingers at a rapid pace. His palm rubs your little clit and you can’t control your loud moans. The obscene, wet sounds of your pussy makes a flush of blood flow to Charles’s cock. It swells with arousal and he can’t take it anymore. His other hand goes up to his cock and he begins to stroke himself at the same pace as his fingers. Your silky walls squeeze his fingers and sticky wetness coats them. Charles groans as you clamp down on his long digits. The hand on his cock speeds up and you watch him as he chases his release. It’s a sight that you just can’t tear your eyes away from. You feel that intense build up again — impending fireworks ready to burst in the sky. Broken pleas leave your mouth, litanies of please please please and Daddy Daddy Daddy.

He speeds up both his hands and you’re soon creaming around his fingers. You cum with a scream of euphoria, “Daddy!” You clench down on him tightly and your cum leaks everywhere. Your pussy throbs and he fucks you with his fingers until you’re overstimulated. You unconsciously grind against his hand and your clit is overwrought from the two powerful orgasms. Your heart pounds heavily and your chest heaves as you try to come down from your high. He takes his fingers out of your worn out cunt and shoves them in your mouth. “Suck them, yeah, just like my cock!” He growls, speeding up his hand on his cock. His foreskin peels back and forth, and beads of cum and pre-cum drip onto you. With a shout and growl, white strokes of hot, sticky cum lands on your skin. You moan at the lovely feeling and he just admires the sight of you covered in cum. Beautiful.

Days pass and you’re on the edge, but so is Charles. He can barely control himself from jerking off almost everyday ever since that afternoon after the bath. The sight of you sucking his cock and fingers, hearing you moan, watching you cum and oh the innocence you still have makes him harder than a rock. You’re no better, though. Ever since then you’ve been insatiable. You linger around Charles all the time, following him around like a shadow of his. The tingles haven’t ceased either, no. They’ve come back even more and you want your Daddy to make them go away. You want him to make you feel good and you want to return the favour so fucking badly. “Daddy… I have tingles!” You whine needily, dragging your feet behind you as if you’ve been raised with no manners. “I know baby, but you gotta shut the mouth of yours up and let me do my work!” He growls, the ever impending arrival of your mother being today.

You flinch at his tone but your panties slicken up at it too. You continue to waddle behind him, not even paying attention to how he was searching for all your treasured goods. “Please, Daddy? Please, please, please? I have so many tingles! Do you have any tingles? If you do, can I make you feel good? I think I got better at sucking my cherry popsicles, can I please suck your uh- your thing? I’ll be good at it, I swear-” You ramble on and on until Charles cuts you off with his booming voice. “I said that’s enough! Not another goddamn word!” He yells at you so harshly that you’re on the verge of crying on the spot. His cheeks are shaking with anger and frustration and his face is flushed with heat.

You open your mouth to apologize to him but the hand that is now wrapped around your neck stops you from doing so. “Are you too much of a dumb slut to understand? So desperate for attention, and you just wanna cum so bad… Tsk tsk, such a whore. You want Daddy’s cock so bad, you don’t care if he’s busy, right? Aw, don’t cry now… Daddy wants to see you cry when you’re choking on his big fat cock, I want to see you cry while you’re cumming over, and over, over…” He ferociously whispers in your ear, making you gulp in fear. He squeezes your throat even tighter and you gently wrap your hands around his wrist. You struggle to breath but you also can’t help but to enjoy the feeling of him choking you. You whimper at his words and rub your thighs, thinking about how he can make you feel good. “Nuh uh, none of that.” He wedges a thigh between your legs and rests your cunt on it.

He moves his thigh back and forth, clenching the muscles in it to make the friction increase and a breathy moan catches in your throat. You whimper and instinctively, you grind yourself against his well-built thigh. Pleasure blossoms from through your core and Charles stops moving his thigh — leaving you as a whining, needy mess. “No, Daddy’s not going to let you cum at all, and don’t even think about trying to convince me. You’re a bad, slutty little whore — And you need to be punished. Go to your room, and if I hear you crying then I’m going to bruise your ass.” He snarls, ending his long string of words with a sharp spankl to your butt — a warning. He lets go of your neck and you bolt past him, locking yourself in your quaint yet luxurious room until your mother comes home.

Your mother comes home — chaotic and stressed out. Being a large person in the highest of society was tough. She locks her lips against Charles and jealousy’s big, ugly, green head rears itself from behind you. You watch through the cracked door and your mother hurries to get ready for drinking with Mrs. Dubois and Mrs. Caroline -- two of her many rich friends. You feel hurt when she doesn’t search for you, a pang in your sweet heart but you ignore it. You want to step out of your room to go visit her, but you don’t want to upset Charles again. You remind yourself that he’s your step father, and your mind wanders to all sorts of doubts. Was this wrong? Sometimes it felt wrong… But Charles would never do anything wrong! You giggle away at your silly mind, oh how it would come up with the most absurd things.

You watch her leave and sigh heavily to yourself before plopping down on your bed. Swinging your legs back and forth, your tingles still there in your pussy. Your tits ache and you kick yourself for poking at Charles. A knock on the door startles you —two raps that are harsh. You hesitate from getting up to open the door, but after two more raps you decide that it’s for the best. “Baby? Open up, Daddy’s ready to play now.” he calls out from the other side, a devil luring you to commit sin after sin. You giggle with both glee and excitement, ready for playtime with him. You open the door with a smile on your face and then you gasp at the large stack of gifts that Charles was holding in his arms. “Hi, Cha- Daddy…” You say breathlessly, meeting your eyes with his silver-blue ones. They’re blown out — just like how they usually are whenever you see him.

They hold a certain darkness that you’ve never seen before, a sort of storminess that you’d love to revel in. “Hi, baby… Let me in now, I have the rest of the night planned out for us and I’d hate to have to punish you for bad manners.” He says with a sweet baritone, but his threat is bitter. You’re easily charmed, though and you don’t even pay attention to his warning. You let him in and shut the door behind yourself. “I’m so sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry I was annoying you- I just had tingles and I wanted you to help out, that’s all!” You apologize, wrapping your arms around him before he could say anything. You nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck and he urges you to sit on his lap — your favourite seat ever. “Mhm, I know you’re sorry baby, thank you for apologizing so nicely. As much as I like seeing you in pain, I just can’t do that to my sweet little girl.” He whispers in your ear, before kissing your cheeks.

“Do you forgive me, Daddy? Are you still mad at me?” You pull away and look him in the eyes, demanding honesty. “Of course I forgive you, baby… You’re such a good girl! Look at what I got you, I bought you some gifts.” He smiles at you sweetly and your insides flip with happiness. You squeal and immediately thank him, before trying to give him a kiss on the cheek just like how he did to you. He hands you a box and you immediately unwrap the floral wrapping paper. Your furrow your eyebrows in confusion but are grateful nevertheless. “D- Daddy, what’s this?” You ask him, handing him the box. Inside is something that resembles a microphone. It is a pastel pink and has a few buttons. “This is a magic wand, baby! Like the ones that fairies have, and this one can make you feel really good.” He explains, and hands you another small box. Inside are batteries — something that your mother told you not to mess with. You whimper and gasp before handing them to him. You wiggle yourself further into his lap and wait for him to set up your wand.

He hands it to you and it’s quite weighty, but you take it anyways. “Whenever you get tingles, Daddy can use this on your little button — okay? But we’ll save this for another time. You like Daddy’s thighs, don’t you?” He asks, taking the wand away from you. You sheepishly nod and wiggle in his lap again. He grips your waist tightly and squeezes, before moving you so that you’d straddle his left thigh. He clenches the muscles in his thigh and the already stiff muscle becomes even harder. Charles’s large cock bulges through his pants, all hard and aching already. “You like that, baby?” He asks again, reaching his hands up your dress and tearing away your cotton panties. “Mhm!” You nod harshly, your cunt sopping and drooling. He drags you back and forth slowly and the arms that are wrapped around him squeeze even tighter.

Your clit grinds against the rough material of his pants and he moves you back and forth. He bounces the same thigh slightly and a series of moans rumble through you. “O- Oh my… Daddy, that feels s- so, hng, good.” You whisper, moans cutting through almost every word you utter. “Look at you, a dripping mess all over my thigh. Can’t help it, hm? Just feels so good, only Daddy can make you so slutty.” He groans in your ear, before sucking a few hickies across the bare skin on your neck. Your eyes roll back into your skull at the euphoric feeling. “Look at you, all dumb and stupid, just drooling at the thought of being my slut.” He chides, smearing the saliva that leaks from your mouth. “Daddy, I have lots of tingles now!” You squeal as he presses you further down on his thigh. A burning feeling spreads across your pussy and abdomen and your drooling hole clenches around nothing.

“Yeah, baby, I bet it feels so good, right?” He purrs, moving one of his strong hands to your ass. He gives you a few spanks, pushing you closer to your release. “I think that thing is happening again… Those fireworks!” You tell you, gasping and moaning at the pain and pleasure. “Fuck, got me so hard right now.” He groans, roughly grabbing one of your hands to palm his cock. “Feel that, baby? That’s all for you and your slutty pussy. All yours- God, fuck” He swears after you accidentally rub your hand over his cock and squeeze it. You let out an extremely loud moan, not even caring if anyone was home. The staff was gone and so was your mother, so who are you to care? “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” You cry out as your beautiful face frowns in pleasure.

You can feel that high building up and Charles grinds his clothed cock into your hand. “Go on, cum, cum all over my thigh like the needy little baby you are. God, everyone in this damn town would be so ashamed to know you’re such a whore for your Daddy’s cock. And I bet you don’t care, do you? You just can’t get enough of me, cumming all the time, making a mess of that pussy of yours…” He growls at you, his words making you gasp and moan. He continues to rub your pussy against his thigh even though you’re pushing at him slightly. “Daddy, the tingles are too much,” you whine desperately, trying to writhe and push away from him but only worsening the tingles. “Shh…” Charles sibilates, holding you still even though your fussing didn’t stop.

Tremors claim your body and Charles drags your pussy against his thigh even harder. You fall against his chest and the fight in you leaves your body. A lewd, guttural moan leaves your mouth and you’re cumming all over his thigh. “Oh Daddy!” You squeal as pleasure overtakes your body. Your cunt throbs and you’ve soaked his pants completely. Charles gets harder at the sight of you cumming all over him. Your cunt gushes all over his pants and you’re moaning loudly. “Good girl, such a good girl for Daddy!” He praises, smiling at your writing form. You gasp as he continues to rub your pussy on his thigh, letting you ride out your orgasm and slightly overstimulating you. You babble like a baby and your grip on him is flimsy at this point. Your chest heaves and he lifts you off his thigh.

Suddenly, you’re kneeling on the ground and he’s freeing his cock from the confinements of his pants. It’s leaking, crying fat beads of clear pre-cum and suddenly you remember his husky, mainly taste on your tongue. “It’s your c- c…” You’re not sure whether or not you should say it, so you decide to keep your mouth shut. He laughs at you and his cock is a raging red, almost purple. He brings you a little closer to his cock and your face to face with it. Your mouth salivates at the sight of it and you want nothing more than to suck him off. He slaps his heavy cock against your cheek, once, twice, three times. You moan at the delicious pain and it sends a rush of blood to his cock again. He begins to stroke himself in front of you, knowing that you crave him in your mouth so desperately. “Look at me, baby. Watch Daddy jerk himself off, yeah, just like that. You want my cock so bad, don’t you? In due time baby, don’t worry.” He tells you in between moans.

You feel more tingles building up in your pussy and more wetness leaking out of you. You impulsively open your mouth up, ready to welcome his cock. But instead he shoves two fingers into your mouth and you take them delightfully. His digits are soon covered in spit and his pre-cum has been smeared all over his cock. He begins to pump his hand up and down -- base to tip. His thumb occasionally swipes over his leaking tip and he moans throatily. “Can I help you out, Daddy? Please?” You beg with puppy eyes, and he just can’t resist. Though your words are garbled, he still knows what you need. He keeps his two fingers in your mouth and takes his hand off of his cock. It bounces up and slaps against his stomach, weighty and thick. He grabs one of your hands and guides it until it’s wrapped around his cock.

It’s heavy in your hands but God, are you grateful to have it all for yourself. You try to mimic his movements, moving your hand up and down even though you don’t have a good grip on him. He moans loudly as your thumb accidentally swipes over his red tip. He further pushes his fingers into your mouth until you’re choking on his digits. “Oh, god, yes…” He groans, and your mind rewinds to the times where the priest from church always told you that anything involving private parts is wrong. The memory makes you stutter and your morals are now conflicted. He takes notice to the slowly disappearing eagerness you had. “Oh baby, do you think Daddy’ll ever let you do something bad? Never, everything they tell you... it’s all lies, okay? Daddy knows what’s best, and you should listen to Daddy. Now stroke me just like how I was, okay?” He tells you, pushing his fingers against your gag reflex.

You once again mirror his movements, enjoying the fact that you’re the reason as to why his tingles would go away. You quicken up your movements on his cock, and he asks, no, he orders you to tighten your hand and you’re trying your hardest. “Now twist your hand a bit, baby, and move a bit quicker.” He gruffs, and you try to do as you’re told. Your hand moves in corkscrew-like motions and Charles begins to grind into your palm. His cock throbs and twitches under your touch and his balls are slowly beginning to tighten up. His fingers swirl in your mouth and your other hand comes up to cradle his swollen, heavy balls. He lets out a guttural moan and more pre-cum drips from his tip and stains your soft skin. “Oh god…” He groans and he hits his release. Hot spurts of thick cum drips from his tip and copious amounts of it leaks everywhere. You continue to stroke him until he tells you to stop, and even then you don’t want to.

He takes his hand out of your mouth and guides you to his cock. “Clean Daddy up, yeah… That’s it, lick up all my cum... Tastes so good right? Swallow it all like a good girl.” He commands and you greedily lap up all his cum. You’re addicted to the taste, even though it’s slightly peculiar. Salty yet sweet, manly and husky. You try your best to clean him up until he’s satisfied, You smile up at him shyly, staying in your place on your knees as you wait for your next order. You watch as his cock slowly begins to soften and as he shoves it into his boxers. Your gaze lands on the gigantic wet spot on his grey linen pants and your eyes bulge out in shock. He looks down to his thigh and back to you before chuckling in such a swooning way. “Look at the mess you made, baby!” He cooes, reminding you of the way you were grinding on his thigh like it was a normal thing to do. You’re flustered and you shy away from him, embarrassed with all the attention. “Aw, don’t be coy now; you were just riding my thigh like a bitch in heat, and now you wanna be innocent?”

The blunt scent of smoke fills the room with ease. Charles sighs in delight, knowing that his plan was taking place at the very moment. You sit between his feet, re-reading the letter that Charles has given you. “She’s gone already? Didn’t she just come back, Daddy? We haven’t even spent time as a family yet!” You cry out in both distress and sadness as Charles continues to take a drag from his pipe. He smoothes a soothing hand over your hair and tears begin to fall from your eyes. She’s gone for two darn months? There’s no way you’ll be able to handle that! You stifle your sobs to your best ability and oh how Charles’s cock throbs at both the sound and the sight of you crying. “Don’t you feel sad, Daddy?” You ask through your tears, hiccuping and sobbing.

“No, baby. Do you wanna know why? It’s because I support whatever your mother wants to do… And you should too, baby. Now stop being a crybaby and let me take your mind off it, Daddy has some things to tell you.” He shuts you up and puts out his pipe before pulling you onto his lap. You gladly let him do so and he wipes your tears away for you. He lets out a breathy chuckle and smiles, before kissing the tip of your nose. “If I see you crying then I’ll put you over my knee, okay? None of that right now.” He orders, and you sheepishly nod. You hate being over his knee just as much as he loves it. You quickly blink away any forthcoming tears before your bottom is bruised up. “Have you ever been to Italy? It’s quite the beauty, to be frank.” He begins and your ears perk up.

“I have, and it’s quite lovely. There’s nothing as beautiful as the sunset in Florence from the top of the dorm room… It’s the most exquisite sight, I’ll take you some day.” He reminisces, staring at nothing as he recalls the lovely trip. “Oh, to bask in that lovely sunlight again would be delightful, and to drive down the streets as it rains…” He sighs blissfully and you let your imagination run wild. Images of you in Charles’s car brings you joy and you can’t help but to hum in agreement. “Mother always tells me about Italy, mostly about the stores and beautiful men but I’ve always liked the scenery.” You tell him, and he nods as he listens to you speak. You continue, “I’ve seen paintings, and photographs! I have a few cousins that live there too, I love it whenever they phone us and tell me about their home.” You giggle to yourself as you remember all those times.

Charles grabs your chin gently and makes you face him. You look into his eyes and then to his lips. They’re plump and pink and all you’d like to do is to press your own against them. You’ve always liked his kisses, no matter what. The ones on your hands, legs, shoulders but god do you love the ones he leaves on the inside of your thighs. You shiver at the memory of him kneeling down and spreading your legs wide open. As if he could read your mind, his other hand begins to run up and down your thigh. You’re both insatiable -- addictive and you can’t get enough of each other. “Are you close with your cousins, baby?” He asks out of the blue. You clear your throat before responding. “Ahem, uh, we were before Mother married for the third time, I think they should let her be!” He’s told. Your cute lips have formed and slight pout and all he wants to do is bite and suck on them until you’d tell him to stop.

“So you don’t talk to anyone else in your family?” He questions you, raising his eyebrows high up to the sky. “No…” You sigh and start playing with Charles’s fingers. “Uh huh…” He nods, letting your words sink in. You trace little invisible shapes on his hand, slightly ticking the brooding man. “Can you take me to Italy, Daddy? I would truly love to visit!” You ask suddenly, pouting at him. “Sure, baby, but you have to let me do a few things to you first, okay?” He negotiates, and you easily agree to whatever conditions he has for you. “Of course, I’ll do anything for you, Daddy!” You exclaim, accidentally putting an emphasis on ‘anything’. He smirks and cracks his knuckles. The pops make you cringe and squeem in his lap, earning yourself a slap to your thigh.

“Go get the gift I have for you, and be quick, you know I don’t like waiting for too long.” He warns you warily. You quickly dash up to your room, bare feet pattering against the hardwood floors like rain falling on an umbrella. You ravage through your closet and pull out the box before running back downstairs. Your dress gets caught on a piece of stray wood that had been broken from when the butlers were bringing in the new furniture and you huff in annoyance. You impatient yank the cloth from the wood and wince as it rips. You turn on your heels and continue to rush back to the smoke room where Charles was. You pant heavily and struggle to form any words, making Charles chuckle. “What happened to your dress, baby?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You look down and suck in a sharp breath, not realizing that the rip was that bad.

“It had gotten caught on some broken wood…” You admit under your breath. “Hm?” He asks again, not hearing what you said. “It had gotten caught on some broken wood, Daddy… I’m sorry!” You repeat a bit louder, adding an apology at the end. Truth be told, you’re slightly terrified of Charles as anyone would be. “Aw, you’re so clumsy and stupid aren’t you? Just destroying your clothes as a dumb baby would.” He tuts, taunting you and your accident. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy is going to take care of you and that stupid cunt of yours.” He growls, making you gulp. You don’t even think about the overwhelming tingles that have taken your core -- no, instead you think about what he could possibly do next. He pulls the left strap of your dress down, revealing your bare breast. He is closer to you than before and you can’t even remember when he had gotten up from his seat.

He smiles down and you and you look up at him with your lips slightly parted. He does the same to the other strap and exposes your chest for himself and himself only. Cool air hits your tits and your peaks turn rock hard. They twist up painfully and ache for him and his delightful touch. You lose your breath for a few seconds and he pinches your nipples and plays with them -- and you accidentally end up dropping the box. He tuts at you again and you’re quick to pick it up before he takes it away from you. “Such a stupid baby, you need Daddy to help you out because you can’t do anything right, hm? Other than sucking my cock, of course.” He degrades, making you whimper. He guides you to the throne-like chair and makes you sit down. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and tilt your head at him as he gets down on his knees.

He places the box next to him and spreads your bare legs far apart from each other. He hikes up your dress to your waist and lets out a coo as he spots the evident wetness that has soaked through your panties. The light beige cloth is tarnished and he’s the reason why. “Daddy… What are you doing?” You nervously ask him as you crane your head down to look at him. He looks up at you with an almost devilish smirk and hooks his fingers into your panties before pulling them down your legs. He admires the healed cuts and bruises that probably came from your childhood. He throws your panties behind him and places your legs onto his strong shoulders. You’re not sure what he’s about to do and millions of questions run through your mind.

“Daddy, wh- what are you doing?” You question him, watching as his tongue runs over his plump pink lips. His nips at your thighs -- biting, kissing, and bruising the skin. Arousal leaks from you and smears onto your pussy. He inches his face closer and closer to your pussy before finally answering your question. “I’m going to taste your cute little cunt, baby.” He bluntly tells you before licking a fat stripe up your cunt. “Hu- Oh!” You let out a lewd moan and tangle your fingers in his fluffy caramel hair. The feeling is overwhelming as Charles laps up your wetness even though each lick makes more leak from your drooling hole. He drinks up everything you have to offer like an animal, wanting more and more from you. His tongue travels through your folds, just barely brushing over your clit and you’re writhing above him.

The lewd sounds of his mouth on your pussy echo throughout the rooms but are soon drowned out by your moans. Suddenly, he latches his lips onto your swollen clit and sucks hard. Stars fill your vision at the unfamiliar feeling and you accidentally buck your hips up. He growls in your pussy and slams your hips back down before laying a heavy hand on your lower abdomen. His tongue swirls around your bud and flicks over your clit. You feel dizzy and his tongue and lips continue to send you into oblivion. You slightly tug on his hair and another growl rumbles from Charles, pushing you closer to your release. The fireworks aren’t sparking as much as you’d like them to and you feel empty. Under Charles’s strong arm, you wiggle your hips as you spew alphabetical nonsense.

“Daddy…” You moan out, your voice soft and sweet. He knows what you want but god -- seeing you all needy and desperate makes him even harder than a rock. He relents his sucking on your clit and you whine until he runs his middle finger through your wet cunt. He lightly flicks your clit with his tongue as he suddenly pushes his long digit into your cunt. He quickly finds your g-spot and the build up inside you hits its limit. You cum with a guttural shriek and he continues to abuse your poor cunt with his mouth and finger. Your pussy clenches around his finger and your clit throbs under his tongue as cum gushes out of you. He drinks it all up and stares right at you as he does so. Your sweet taste fills his mouth and he craves you even more -- but his cock is far too hard for him to do anything else.

He pulls his head away from your pussy and looks up at you again. He watches you as he pulls his cum-coated finger out of you and he shoves said finger past your lips. Your taste fills your mouth -- sweet yet a little bitter. It’s a stark contrast from his taste as it was more husky and manly. His finger leaves your mouth with a distinct ‘pop!’ and you look up at him with a face that just begs to him. He latches his lips onto yours and kisses you ferociously. Charles lifts you up from the chair and your sensitive pussy presses against him by accident. You whimper at the unexpected feeling and cry out against his lips. “Daddy! D- Daddy…” You try to keep up with his lips but you can’t, so you decide to give up. His tongue searches your mouth and he occasionally sucks on yours. He’s so experienced, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows how to make you easily submit to him, he knows when to nip at your swollen lips and he knows exactly what you need.

He carries you to your bedroom, each step of his adding friction to your pussy. You’re sopping wet and you’re so damn needy for him. You whine against his lips and he pulls away as he climbs the steps. Strong, veiny hands squeeze your ass roughly and his marriage ring digs into your skin. You look ruined -- dress torn and your tits exposed, lips plump and hair disheveled and your cunt is rubbing against Charles. He enters your room and throws you on the bed. You look up at him and he rips your dress off of your body roughly. He pulls the pink wand out from the pocket of his pants and you realize you had forgotten about it. He sets it on the bed and quickly undresses himself, desperate to relieve his ache. You watch him intently, spreading your legs out of instinct and you can feel more wetness dripping out of you.

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, the sight so enticing. Bulging muscles and a beautifully sculpted face that you could look at forever. He crawls on top of you and puts his hands around your head. He’s left in only his boxers and you can see how hard he is. He’s huge, and sometimes when you think about his cock you can barely get the size right. “Daddy… What are we going to do now?” You ask sweetly, looking up at him. “Daddy’s going to take your innocence away, baby. I’m going to ruin you, turn you into my little minx.” He tells you bluntly, cutting right to the chase. You unconsciously moan at his words and your pussy clenches at the thought of him ruining you. What would that entail? He growls lowly in your ear before attaching his lips to the sweet spot of your neck.

He sucks a hickey onto your skin -- licking, biting, sucking like it’s a hobby of his. You moan at the sensation and he chuckles against your neck. “So sensitive… God, what am I going to do with you, baby?” He sighs, asking himself a question only he knows the answer to. “You can do whatever you want, Daddy! Anything you do is right!” You giggle, answering his question. He groans and a rush of blood heads straight to his cock. He pulls his boxers down, sliding them over his built thighs and past his legs. You watch carefully as his cock bounces up and slaps his lower abdomen -- a sight you’ll never get used to but always love. He grabs the base and spreads your legs even wider. He slaps the tip of his cock on your clit, earning a squeal from you.

“Do you like that, baby doll?” He questions, slapping your clit again. You mewl and nod your head feverishly. You stare up at him and he looks down at you with a Cheshire smirk. He runs his cockhead through your wet folds, smearing the few drops of pre-cum that leaked from his slit. The large, bulbous tip teases your pussy. It bumps up against your clit and as soon as it prods at your tight hole, you feel a bit of panic. Your mother had told you all sorts of horrid stories about those types of things, but you never thought much of it. “Daddy, what are you doing?” You ask him, scrambling to hold one of his hands for comfort. You lace your fingers with his and he coos at how innocent and docile you are. “I’m going to turn you into my own little angel, okay baby? What’s wrong, hm?” He questions, squeezing your hand tightly.

“I- I’m scared… Do I have to do it, Daddy? I mean I really wanna do it! I’m just unsure, I guess…” You ramble adorably, looking deep in his eyes. His features don’t soften, no, because he knows that deep down inside, you'll do anything for him. “Baby, you’ll make me the happiest man alive if you do this! Don’t you want to make me happy like you always do? C’mon, baby doll, don’t make Daddy upset… You’ve been such a good girl for me! And I know how much you absolutely love being my good girl.” He frowns slightly, beginning to pull away from you. You quickly pull him back to you and Charles smiles at you. “I’d like to still be your good girl, Daddy! I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I swear!” You beg and apologize, tears glossing over your eyes. He shushes you and your chest heaves in a panicking manner.

“Hold onto my shoulders, baby, but don’t hurt me. Okay?” He orders, placing your hands there for you. You nod your head and easily obey his orders without a single peep of objection. He wraps his left hand around your neck, and his right hand goes back to grip his cock. Charles drags the fat tip up and down your wet pussy against, bumping your sensitive clit with it and covering it with your juices. He slowly drags his tip down to your hole and begins to push in, enticing a slightly muffled shriek from you. He shuts you up by pressing his lips on yours and squeezing your throat slightly. His thick cock pushes into you, stretching you out painfully. The burn of the stretch makes you squeeze his shoulders tightly and you whimper loudly into his lips. Charles moans loudly as he sheathes his cock completely into your cunt.

The stretch turns into a dull ache and it’s soon pleasurable. Your wet velvet walls hug his cock tightly, perfectly, as if you’re made for him and him only. “God, so damn tight. Just squeezing my cock like a little slut.” He groans, pulling away from your lips. Both of your faces are frowning in pleasure. He digs his fingers into your hip as he fully bottoms out. It felt like it would never end, as if he would keep pushing into you. Charles swears under his breath and savours the feeling of your pulsing walls squeezing his hard cock. You writhe under him, growing desperate. “Daddy… Please, please, please…” You beg, eyes rolling into your skull out of desperation. “So needy for my cock, just begging for it already…” He tuts and you feel your cunt flutter at his words. He pulls his cock all the way out from your wet pussy and it glistens with your wetness. You feel too empty, far too empty for both yours and Charles’s liking.

He suddenly pushes back into you and begins to pump in and out of your cunt without any warning. You moan loudly, litanies of “Daddy” continuously leaving your mouth like a mantra. His cock practically splits you in half and he fucks into you with a carefree pace. The sounds of skin on skin are drowned out by your moans and groans. His cock hammers against your poor g-spot, pummeling in and out of you with no relent. “Oh Dio, che puttana per il mio cazzo, eh? La mia puttana, solo la mia. Ti rovinerà per ogni altro uomo — anche se sei mia e solo mia.” He groans loudly, the foreign language igniting those fireworks in your core. “Oh Daddy! Oh- oh my…” You cry out, your body jerking with each thrust of his. Charles deepens his thrusts and his cock pummels against your cervix, making you cry out. He whispers a soft apology even though he loves seeing you in pain. He pulls out of your cunt, leaving you a needy, desperate, pathetic slutty mess under him.

The hand around your throat tightens a bit more, causing you to choke on your whines. He grabs the wand behind him and flicks it on, letting it come to life. Charles pinches the bottom of his cock to stave off his release, his balls swollen and heavy. He trails the wand on your inner thighs and watches as you let out a silent scream. “Pretty little angel, my angel… You’re so stupid for my cock, aren’t you? Don’t worry, Daddy’ll take care of you. He moves the hand that was on your throat down to his cock. He slaps the velvet tip on your pussy and runs it through your slit again. He pushes into you and continues to drag the wand along your body. The vibrations tease you and so do his slow thrusts. “P- Please, Daddy, it’s not enough for my tingles, please!” You beg, your hands still on his shoulders. He smiles down at you and lets out a coo, before turning off the wand and throwing it to the side.

“Mia bella sgualdrina, ora mi prenderò cura io di te. Ma ti prenderò a bordo, ti prenderò in giro e ti porterò al tuo rilascio più e più volte, solo perché mi piace vederti tutto più profondo per me.” He husks in your ear, before dragging his cock in and out of you even quicker. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder and fucks into you harshly. His swollen balls slap against your ass and his pelvis grinds against your clit — pushing you closer and closer to your release. He watches you fall apart under him, turning into a little whore just as he had planned. “Please, please, please, please, I want the fireworks so bad Daddy!” You beg, not even realizing that you’re talking. His cock throbs at your words and with one particularly hard thrust, you come undone. You bite back a scream as you cum all over his cock — coating it with your cum.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected and lets out a loud moan. The sight of your poor abused cunt being pounded by his cock makes him harder. He watches as your cunt clenches around him tightly and his grip on your hips becomes tighter. You squeeze his cock tightly and your chest heaves gravely and you’re overly sensitive. He snaps his hips into yours and occasionally grinds his cock into you, just to see you writhe. “You’re taking my big cock so fucking good, baby.” He husks in your ear, before letting out a moan that would make a nun blush. “I can hardly believe you’re taking it all, dove. I was so damn afraid it wouldn’t fit.” He groans, nudging his cock against your g-spot. Your eyes roll back into your skull. You nod your head, realizing that deep down you had thought the same thing. “Aw, too dumb to speak?” He asks tauntingly, bringing his hand to your clit.

He rubs your pearl of nerves that had been abused by his mouth. “I want to fill you up so bad, baby. I want to see you swell up with my seed… Want to see your belly grow with my baby, la mia piccola sgualdrinella.” He moans in your ear. His words set you off again and you arch your back off the bed as you hit your release for the third time in one day. You wriggle away from him as the fireworks become too much for you. You moan loudly and your pussy clamps down tightly on his cock. You squeeze him with all your might as you cream yourself around his cock. Charles shudders at the sights and swears in Italian under his breath. He rubs your clit even harder even though you’re shaking your head and trying to get away from his cock. “Don’t run away from me now, gattina… C’mon, I know you can’t handle my big fat cock, but don’t be like that…” He mopes before letting out his signature breathy chuckle.

You dig your nails into his shoulders as you continue to get railed by him. “Oh my god!” You squeal as you struggle to come down from your high. “C’mon dolce ragazza, give me one more…” He growls, making his thrusts slower and deeper. “Anything you w- want, Daddy.” You croak out between your pornographic moans. He swears he’s about to break you with how hard he’s gripping you, but he can’t find it in himself to stop. His cock head bumps up against your g-spot continuously and lewd, wet squelching sounds fill the room along with the smell of sex. A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead and he’s panting non-stop. He grinds his cock into you, enticing a loud scream from you. He immediately clamps a hand over her mouth and presses his forehead to yours. “Shh, shh… Do it, cum on my cock, baby.” He growls, before letting out a loud moan.

You cum with a loud, incessant moan that’s muffled by his hand. Charles groans as his orgasm is triggered too. He pushes deep into your pussy and his cock stills. His balls tighten and your cunt clenches around him as you both cum at the same time. The feeling of his cum filling you up makes you moan pathetically. White, hot, stickiness coats your walls and fills you up to the brim, the never ending amount of it making you sigh is pleasure. Charles watches as some of his cum leaks past his cock and he’s instantly hard again. He waits until he fully comes down from his high before pulling out from your pussy. He’s not sure whether he should go for a second round or not, but you’ve already made up your mind. “Daddy… Can I have more, please? I love it so much, a- and I’d really like for you to help me with my tingles again!” You beg with puppy eyes and an irresistible pout.

He moans at your desperation and neediness before laughing breathlessly. “Oh la mia principessa, you’re already such a slut for my cock…” He smiles down at you and you just whine, making grabbing hands at him. He rolls you over and sits down with you straddling him. Charles’s cock is right against your used pussy and he drags the head through your soaking, cum-coated folds. “Please, please put your c- cock in me…” You beg in a hushed voice, falling onto his chest. He bucks his hips up and enters your pussy in one smooth thrust. One hand lifts you up slightly and the other wraps itself around your throat. “Oh please!” You beg even louder, your face all contorted in pleasure. A growl rumbles in his chest and he begins to fuck up into your pussy. You cry out, and feel tears stinging your eyes from the overwhelming feeling. Both yours and Charles’s cum leaks out of you and drips all over his cock and even leaks down to his balls.

“Cosi' dannatamente bisognoso, Dio. Non ne hai mai abbastanza del mio cazzo, eh? Voglio toccarti tutto il tempo, piccola, voglio vederti gonfiare con il mio sperma. Non vedo l'ora di vedere le tue tette riempirsi di latte, guardarle rimbalzare mentre ti scopo.” He moans softly, panting like a dog. You have no idea what he’s saying, but you just nod in agreement. He chuckles and squeezes your throat just to watch you squirm under his touch. “Oh my god, Daddy! That feels so good, please…” You whisper to him, and he moves his hand on your throat to your ass. He grabs the supple flesh before spanking you for fun, enjoying the way you whimper and clench around his cock. He spreads your butt cheeks and his ring finger dances over your puckered hole. He chuckles as you begin to panic, not even knowing what he’s doing.

He lets go and spanks your ass one more time before making sharper thrusts. He’s deeper than before and you can barely handle it. You dig your nails into his chest, leaving crescent shaped scars that he’ll look back on in the near future. Both of your moans become louder and more desperate, the fireworks in your cores intensifying slowly but surely. “You’re going to cum, aren’t you? Go ahead, do it, cum all over my big fat cock. I’ll fill you up again, don’t worry my little slut.” He smiles, ghosting his lips over yours. On command, you come undone around his cock again. You squeeze him tightly and grind down on his cock on instinct, earning a loud moan from Charles. He spanks your ass again and the delicious sting has you cumming harder. You coat his cock with your juices and tiredness takes you over. You let him rail into you non stop — even though there’s a tinge of blood mixed with your shared cum.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re done already, baby. Daddy’s not even finished with you, yet. We’ll have all the time in the world baby, don’t worry. I’m going to breed you with my seed once we get to Italy, gonna make you needy for my cock all the time; it’s going to be the only thing on your innocent mind.” Charles promises, and you only smile and nod at your Daddy. He groans under you and you can hear the rumbles of it in his chest. “Please f- fill me up, Daddy!” You beg, not even knowing what you’re asking him to do. He lets out a moan at your words and begins to bounce you up and down his long, thick cock. He drives his cock in and out of you incessantly, chasing his orgasm for the second time and you’re whining loudly.

“Oh god, I’m going to cum so fucking hard baby, I’m going to fill you up just like you want me to… Fuck yes!” He shouts, watching as your tits bounce with his each and every movement. He stills and brings you down on his cock, painting your walls with his sticky, copious amounts of cum. He watches as it leaks past his cock that is stuffed in your abused pussy. He rubs your overwrought clit just to see you in pain, before pulling his hand away. You both sigh and Charles rubs his nose against yours, making you bubble in giggles. “Daddy?” You call out to him after a few moments of peaceful silence. “Yes, baby?” He answers, smiling down at you wickedly. “I… I love you…” You whisper to him, before breaking out in a smile. He lets out a hearty chuckle that you’re all but used to.

“Oh princess, if only you knew.”

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pale-silver-comb · 5 years ago

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So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals.

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong.

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day.

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.)

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon.

#leverage #leverage ot3 #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #nate ford #talk leverage to me

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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

Text

The Empress Pt.VI

I hope you all have a lovely day🖤🖤

Warnings: light hint to sexual innuendo, Swearing

Its been about a couple of months now since we found Tommy. The palace was up in a baby craze due to the new little prince they inherited. Once we got past the first couple week's of tommy living with us, we saw his true nature. He was a nice and sweet kid, don't get me wrong. But oh, he was also a trouble maker.

Tommy would often bounce between hanging around Wilbur, Techno, Phil and even you. When you would be working at the forge Tommy would sometimes just slip in unannounced and make himself comfortable on a spare stack of metal. You'd only really notice him when he would ask you what something was, or what it did.

That was the new update as well. After returning Techno had requested that you practice making earrings. Saying that he wanted to see how dainty you could work. Of course you didn't mind, back at your village you would often make rings, pendants, and sometimes earrings for those who asked. So making him a earring was no fuss at all.

Techno did start to wonder around to the forge often. usually seeing what you were making or what you were in the process of. Sometimes he would even make off hand comments to make you laugh. Your favorite visit’s from him were always when he would bring tommy. The two would walk in, Tommy holding Techno’s finger as his hand was a little too big for the young boy to fully grasp.

Since you were a familiar face around the palace Techno had stopped wearing his Skull. Instead replacing it with his all to familiar golden reading glasses. You still stood by the ideal that you preferred him with no skull. Since he was, to you, very handsome. You did find out later that the skull he wore was for outsiders. He didn't feel the need to show his face to those who wouldn't be present very long in the empire. Choosing instead to leave them with the impression that he was a monster of a man, rather than a young prince with a heart of gold. When you say he had a heart of gold, you meant it.

Recently techno has really opened up around you, becoming more relaxed in your presence. Phil had mentioned that it would only be a matter of time before he did, and sure enough he was right. If you didn't have anything to do with the forge that day you would sometimes read within his office well he worked. He never made tones of disagreement, or ask that you leave, instead he would just watch you sit before offering a ‘Hello’. It had become something that you often looked forward too.

You and Wil were still thick as thieves. Techno would rag on Wil about how you two could sit and talk for hours, before declaring that you were bored with each other. Only for you two to part then reconcile in the library a hour later. Techno couldn't understand it, but in the end just accepted it for what it was.

You had just finished cleaning up the forge for the night when you herd some light pitter patter of feet. Tommy. You slowly turned to face him. He was in his night wear, obviously he had just gotten out of bed. he looked distraught however. “What’s up bud?” you asked, putting the tongs and the spare metal away. He slightly shifted in his spot, his little teddy bear behind him.

“I had a nightmare” he quietly mumbled. your eyes softened. Ever since you three found him he would have a recurring nightmare about ‘loosing my new family’ as tommy put it. Usually when he had this dream he would seek Techno, or you out for his comfort. Since you two were mostly together when he would look.

“Want me to read to you?” you asked, kneeling down to his level. His bright blue eyes dancing about. He gave a little nod. he put his arms out for you to carry him. you shyly smiled at him.

“buddy I'm a bit dirty...” You said softly, unsure if he was ok with getting dirty right before bed. He only shook his head and said ‘I don't mind’ as a response. So you gently took him into your arms as you stood. He didn't hesitate to curl into your neck. you glanced back at the room that held the forge, you mentally shrugged figuring the rest could wait until tomorrow. With Tommy in your arms you wondered out, heading for his room. On the way there Techno crossed path’s with you.

“Oh (y/n)” he said as he looked from you to tommy. he furrowed his brows, asking what was wrong without physically saying it. You mouthed out that it was a nightmare, Techno slowly nodded understanding. He rested is hand on tommy’s head giving a reassuring rub to it. “Not havin’ such a good night big man?” he asked gently. Tommy turned his head to look at Techno, slowly shaking his head. Techno pondered a moment as he watched tommy. slowly he gained a idea. “You wanna hear somthin’ cool?” he said with a small smile. tommy nodded in response, gripping to your shirt.

“Can (y/n) come?” Tommy asked quietly, watching Techno's kind eyes. Techno patted Tommy’s head before he nodded.

“Yeah I mean, I guess she can come. Only if you deem her cool enough that is” Techno mused, glancing to your eyes. you raised a brow in question, watching Techno bite back a playful smile. Tommy nodded again. “You think she’s cool enough?” Techno asked Tommy, having him confirm his nod. “Yeah I think she’s cool enough too” He said, ruffling your hair before he walked off. queuing you to fallow him. You smiled and fixed your hair before fallowing him. Instead of leading you towards Tommy’s room, he lead you two to the Library. “Go sit on the couch over there” Techno said, pointing to the sofa closest to the fire. You nodded and wondered over, curious of what Techno had planned.

when you sat, you adjusted tommy so he sat in your lap. he pulled his bear close to his chest, hugging it tightly well the two of you waited for Techno. Luckily he didn't take long. When he returned, he had a Violin in hand. He was casually tuning it well he walked. You tiled your head curiously at him. “I didn't know you played” you said to him. He sent a bemused smile to you. taking a relaxed stance.

“Trust me Princess... There's a lot you don't know about me” He waisted no time on starting a soft tune. Well Tommy eased into you, slowly becoming entranced with the peaceful notes, you became more interested in how he swayed to the light swing of his arms. His hands ever so delate as he held the bow, dancing it along the strings. working the instrument to cry out a melody ever so sweet. His face was that of concentration, focused on finding the proper notes to lull his younger sibling to sleep. This was just another reason why you found Technoblade so interesting. He could talk politics and war strategies so easily, sounding like a primed veteran well past his years. But then he could retire to the library and look like a young boy falling in love with the craft he just found.

Well Techno played away, his eyes fell to you. Tommy had fallen asleep in your arms, finding security within them. His teddy bear tightly locked within his own arms. When he glanced up to you he almost had the breath knocked from his lungs. You sat so beautifully. Your eyes were ever so soft well watching him. You looked at him like he was the most important thing you had ever seen. Your face held a little bit of dirt, and ash from the hard work you did for the day, but he didn't mind. He actually preferred it. Too many times had the Court tried to set him up with a prim, and proper woman. One that was elegant, clean, pure, dainty. But He didn't want that. He wanted strong, hands calloused, smudged makeup, sweat dripping, imperfect, but yet somehow at the same time, perfect. He wanted flaw. He wasn't perfect, he had scars, he wasn't the most handsome boy, he was often classified as too bulky, and too tall. He also couldn't be held back with someone who wanted him, to pamper and please. He wanted someone who would treat him as a equal, who praised his knowledge on war instead of shunning it. Someone who embraced the flaws of the world, and turned them into works of art. His eyes wondered back over you, you had moved your head down to check on tommy. Your fingers delicately tracing over Tommy's cheek. Brushing the curls from his face.

You looked back up to techno as he came to a stop. “That was beautiful... Why didn't you tell me you played?” you asked softly. Being mindful of the toddler asleep in your arms. Techno slowly lowered the Violin to the couch.

“I didn't think it was that important to bring up” He said, returning the soft tone. Well he sat the instrument down his eyes met yours. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his eyes, they looked like beautiful glass, the fire’s reflection dancing within, making his eyes dance lively. “If you would like to talk more we should take him to bed first” he said, his eyes flickering to Tommy. You nodded slowly.

“Right, of course.”

After Techno and you had put Tommy to bed it was well into the night. Most of the servants and palace guards had retired to their beds, making way for the changing of the guards. Techno and you weren't really feeling the effects of sleep yet. Rather the two of you wanted to stay within each others company longer. Techno had walked you you to the garden, having snatched two blankets from the library before wondering out into the cold. Techno, having no where to be ended up taking his hair out from his braid. replacing it with a lower pony tail, giving his hair a moment of freedom from it’s confinement.

The garden was beautiful. They couldn't grow flowers of course, but there were elegant sculptures that replaced them. in the middle of the whole garden was a artesian well fountain. although long frozen when the two of you passed by you could hear the water running within the ice. It was peaceful to walk with Techno. It was rare when the two of you would make late night walks. Usually you would take them during the day, or after dinner. But nothing past 10 o’clock mostly.

“So what’s something else I should know about you?” You inquired to him. He smiled to himself before turning to you.

“Are you really going to start school yard type questions with me?” He teased. You smiled and lightly laughed. He was smiling at you, admiring how you looked when you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am. You going to answer them?” You couldn't help but tease back. He chuckled and hummed.

“Mmn. Maybe” he said bemused.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked, now aiming for the most basic questions just to make him laugh in turn. He leaned onto the railing that over looked the kingdom, pondering a moment.

“Red’s a nice color, Or Plum Purple” He said looking at you. Taking a moment to ask you a question in turn. “Besides the forge what do you like to do?” You sat and thought a moment.

“I like to read, Action and Romance are a lot of fun” you mused, earning a laugh from him.

“Romance eh? Waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet? Lamee” he said jokingly. You laughed and took a swat at his chest.

“Oh hush up, I bet you’d like someone to sweep you off your feet Techno” You said, your eyes scanning the horizon. He sat and thought on your words a moment.

“Eh not particularly. Only lame nerds think of that” He said, turning, heading back for the garden door’s. you scoffed and laughed a bit.

“Jerk” you said between laughs. You were going to fallow, but then you had a wicked idea. You scooped up some snow in your hand and bit your lip trying to muffle your laugh. once you had a decent snowball you threw it at him. Bullseye. You had nailed him in the back of the head. He went still, You were a giggling mess now.

“Oh, your in for it now Princess” He said, smirking has he turned. Running after you, his blanket long discarded as he ran to grab you. You squealed out laughing, running from him, discarding your blanket too. You didn't get far before he hooked his arm around your torso, pulling you into his chest well you flapped about like a fish. “Your gonna’ be pullin’ snow out of your shirt for a week when I'm done with ya’!” he said Laughing. Picking snow up before putting it on your head. Some of it even went down your shirt. You flopped about, laughing the whole time until he dropped you into the snow bank. He laughed at you and how you were practically buried within the snow. This only fueled your fire. you threw two more snowball’s the first one missed, but the second one he grabbed out of mid air. You tried to free yourself from the snow bank before he came over to you, but it was no use. he climbed into the bank and shoved the snow down the back of your shirt. But this time you caught him off guard. You grabbed his arm and pulled. setting him off balance so he fell into the snow. Now it was your turn to laugh. tossing more snow onto him. It didn't take him long to recover of course, he simply rolled and grabbed your arms. Pinning them down to the snow. His body hovered over yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His face was that of pure joy, the long stoic look gone. he was at his happiest with you right now. He looked down at you, smiles adorning both of your faces. You two were happy. Happy with the moment, you just wanted it to last as long as it could. Well you two looked into each other’s eyes everything else lost meaning.

Without you two realizing, Phil watched above from one of the windows. He was smiling fondly at the little snowball war you just had. whether Techno had realized it yet or not, Phil did. Techno cared for you. Phil saw how he looked at you. During dinners, Lunches, casual talks, or even when the two of you hung out together. Techno looked at you with pure love and adoration. Phil knew if anyone was capable of wining Techno’s love it was going to be you. You were a hard worker, You cared for Techno’s brothers, got along well with all the servants, were mindful and respective of Techno's space, you also had enough spunk to rise up and toss back the teasing he threw. Phil knew this was the beginning of a love story.

After your snowball fight with techno the two of you did end up going back inside rather quickly. Well Techno may have not been cold, you were definitely cold after all that. You could feel the snow melting on your back, the drops of water running down your skin. But that didn't stop Techno from walking beside you. The two of you walked side by side, your arms around each other to share the warmth. The lingering giggles were etched onto your faces in wide smiles.

“I didn't hurt you at all, right?” Techno asked, double checking incase he was too rough. You shook your head smiling. Drawing your side of the blanket- that was wrapped around you both- closer to preserve the upcoming heat.

“Nah, I coulda’ have taken ya’ if you had stayed above me more” Techno laughed fondly. Amused with your spurt of spunk.

“Oh really now? You think you could take me?” This was now your turn to giggle. purposefully running into his side, shoving him lightly.

“Mmn.. I think I could have found a way” You said looking up towards your room. You had offered to walk techno to his room, but he declined. He said he would feel better if ‘The lady was at her room safely’. You didn't mind, you figured next time you would walk him to his room in turn to make it even, maybe fire back with ‘I must make sure the young prince is safe’.

He chuckled bemused. “If you really have that much spunk maybe I should teach you sword play, or maybe something more military related. you tilted your head up to him curiously.

“You would teach me something?” You asked, semi surprised, but also heart warmed that he would take time aside for you.

“Of course, Princess. I’ll teach you anything you want” He looked down to you as he spoke. He was smiling gently. His tone was fond as he addressed you. “Now don't think I’ll go easy on you though”

“Oh, I didn't think you would” You said, resting your hand on the door handle, opening it. “Would you wanna come in and warm up a bit?” You inquired, looking up to him. He went a faint pink before biting back a shit eating grin.

“Princess... Young men shouldn't be within young ladies chambers during such late hours... Unless, your trying to bed me?” He leaned on your door way. Biting back the largest grin. “Are you trying to bed me, Princess? I knew you had gotten some spunk but I never thought-” You laughed as he teased, going a bit red. trying to wave it off.

“No- No, you know what I mean-” He laughed and cut you off.

“Oh no, I know exactly what you mean” You smiled leaning on your door, looking up at him.

“Are you done?” You asked giggling. He hummed, his face towards yours as he shifted a little closer.

“Maybe” He said amused. “Go get some sleep, and warm up. I'm going to teach you sword play tomorrow” Your eyes lit up. Taking in a small gasp of excitement.

“Are you really?” You asked almost unsure that he was still teasing.

“I mean, Only if that interests you...” He said, his eyes lingering yours. You nodded fast and hugged him without much thought. Techno couldn't help the blood that ran to his face. He lightly cleared his throat as he rested his arms on you. A bit hesitant at first, but he slowly relaxed into your hold. Now understanding why Tommy liked to hug you a lot.

“Thank you...” You mumbled into his chest.

You swore if techno knocked you off your feet one more time you were going to find a way to shove his pretty head in the snow.

Techno was a monster- in the sense of strength. You thought when fighting him, it would be a mutual teaching before he actually started going ham on you. But no, he literary just started striking with no hesitation. Only when he had your swords in a lock did you voice your lag.

"Tech, please can we ease up?" You pleadded. He only watched you briefly. His inner General having come out a while ago.

"Your strong. You can take it" he said sharply. Earning a whine from you. You weren't strong. You didn't do this on a daily. You only made the swords. But he was pushing you. Pushing your strength, and your nerves for one.

"Techno I'm not strong, I- I've never done this-" he grabbed your sword and threw it away from you. Putting his own away. He grabbed your arm and pulled it to him. Pushing your sleeves up.

"Flex your arm." He commanded. You hesitated, looking up at him. "Don't look at me like that. I said flex your arm" you slowly did as he said. Drawing your fist, and flexing your arm. He grabbed your bicep and squeezed a bit. "Notice how hard it is?" You nodded slowly. A slight sting from where he squeezed. "That's pure muscle. You are stronger than you realize. If you convince yourself that you are weak or that you cannot do this, then that's what will become of you" he paused his eyes flashing to yours. "I understand that you are no warrior, but you have strength. As soon as you stop telling yourself that you are weak, you will make progress." He pulled your sleeve down, fixing it for you. "Rome wasn't built over night, Princess. It took time, planning, care, and had to show promise. When I look at you, I see great promise."

When he released your arm you walked over to pick your sword up. Techno readying his stance again. However, before you could break into another spar Phil had wondered out.

"Ay' Techno you have a letter on your desk. You may want to read it" Phil said with a bit of concern. Techno dropped his stance his brow furrowing. He gave a 'Heh?' In confusion. He glanced to you and to Phil.

“Can it wait a bit? I'm in the middle of teaching” Phil shook his head slowly. Techno paused as he thought a bit. "If I go, could you teach (y/n) a bit more? She feel's I'm too strong for her." He mused. His military side slowly fading away for his more domestic side.

"I suppose so." Phil said with a gentle smile. Techno gathered his things and ruffled your hair before leaving. Phil turned his attention towards you. "What has he showed you?" Phil inquired, walking over to you.

"Nothing besides showing me the ground.. seriously my back hurts.." you whined. Phil chuckled lightly at you.

"I should have known. Here I'll teach you some basic's" Before long Phil had you doing simple moves and stances. Things he felt would be easy for you to ace. After a while you got a bit curious.

"Why does techno think I can pick this up so easy? He fights so hard" You questioned. Looking over to Phil. He hummed a moment well he pondered.

"I uh, think that he just wants you to be able to defend yourself. He knows your strong, and besides. He thinks pretty highly of you, y'know'" you went a bit wide eyed. Techno thinks highly of you?

You looked to Phil with a bit of shock on your face. "He does?" He nodded, Smiling gently. Phil gently took the sword from your hands and hung it on the wall with the others.

Since you within the training hall, there was a plethora of weapons and armor of all kinds. The room was large, made for incasing many people. But the detail never faltered. The floor was of stone, pillars lining the outside to support a second floor. The ceiling was framed with gold, dark oak and a smooth white to open the room up more. It was a good place to spar and just ramble off thoughts.

"Oh, of course. He's said it multiple times to me. That's why he was fine with you coming with us to the mansion. Don't think that he hasn't been paying attention to you on the daily." Phil said looking up to you.

"He watches me?" You furrowed your brow slightly. Phil saw and continued.

"Not in the creepy way. He just takes notes of things you do, say you like, ect. He knows your kind with tommy, that you are very organized with your work. Your very detail oriented. He's become quite smitten with you" Phil chuckled. Finding it all amusing.

You were taken aback by this. You thought you two had a good friendship, but it looks like he's paid a lot of attention to you after all. It started to dawn on you. 'I don't really know much about him' you thought to yourself. Sure you knew his mom passed, his favorite color. But you never really dove into his personal life much beyond that. Maybe it was time you got to know him more. "If I wanted to know more about him... could I ask him?" You asked, looking up at Phil. He patted your head and started walking with you towards the hall.

"Of course. Something tells me he wouldn't turn you away." Phil said, biting a smile back. He remembered you two last night playing within the snow. He knew Techno would never turn you away, he was in love with you, even if techno wasn't aware of it.

After dinner you wondered towards Techno's office. You wanted to talk to him, get to know him better. You know he was powerful and kind, but you wanted to know more. What was his ambitions? His hopes, fears. You just wanted more.

When you walked up to the doors you carefully knocked, hearing talking within. When you herd the 'come in' you pushed the doors open. Techno was sat in his chair per usual, he had his reading glasses on with papers on his desk. When you entered he complied them together neatly. Setting them aside for later. However there was also a rather tall woman. she was beautiful, dripping with total control. Her hand was rested on her sword. When she turned to face you. You saw Her face, It was hard but something told you their was more too her. Her skin looked like it was kissed by the sun himself. She looked like she wasn't from here, but the way she dressed herself in armor told you elsewise.

"Hello (y/n)" techno said. The woman glanced to Techno and back to you. She offered a kind smile. "This is General Hawthorne, she's my leading General of the Empires army. I don't believe you two have met before" He said formally. Not having the tone he normally used with you.

She offered her hand. "Its nice to finally meet you (y/n). His Imperial Majesty said we would have a new Blacksmith. But I never expected someone as young as you" Her smile was warm. When you took her hand to shake it you were shocked with the grip she had. Under her glove you could feel some rings digging into your hand. "Don't worry about addressing me as Hawthorne. Seraphina is fine, or Sarah" you nodded smiling to return hers. Wanting her to drop your hand, her grip a tad to much.

"Its a pleasure to meet you, too" you said looking up to her. She turned back to Techno, taking a scroll from his desk.

"I'll see you there then sire" Sarah said, smiling before she walked out. You watched her go, your eyes lingering on the door as you thought. Turning back to Techno.

Techno took his reading glasses off and set them aside on his desk. Leaning back in his chair. When he looked up at you his eyes softened, his tone also becoming casual. "What do you think about weddings?".

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave @sugarandspicebutnonice @bambibunz @lynnarts @buzzybeebee @feathersthewinged @prefesro

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #TE

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honeytae · 4 years ago

Text

My heart is yours.

hi bubs! so basically this is just about the reader experiencing some jealousy, and jungkook is pretty confused lol. i’m gonna be honest i don’t know how good i feel about this bc angst just isn’t my thing but i hope you all think it’s okay! this is totally not based on real events enjoy! tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy genre: angst, fluff word count: 3.0k

This was not how you wanted the night to go.

Tonight had started off well; Jungkook had picked you up to arrive at Jimin’s birthday party together, and you had spent the first few hours dancing with him and his friends. You were having a really good time. Emphasis on were.

The fun had ended almost as soon as Jungkook left the table to get another round of drinks, leaving you to converse with some of Jimin’s friends you hadn’t met yet as he made his way to the bar.

In between conversations, you’d taken a brief glance over to the full bar, recognizing your boyfriend as the last one in line as he ruffled a hand through his hair. Smiling fondly at the sight, you’d turned back to one of Jimin’s friends from school, engaging in a conversation about how he knew the birthday boy.

But the next time you looked over, your whole body seemed to set aflame in a blinding rage.

Jungkook was no longer at the back of the line, in fact you had to boost yourself up taller in order to see the back of his head. But what you saw next to him was what really set you off; some pretty girl latched onto his arm as if she belonged there.

The chattering voices and pulsing music all seemed to fade into the background as you watched the woman continually push herself at your boyfriend. Clenching your fists, you caved into your seething anger, standing from your seat and stomping out of the room before you could think twice about it.

He wanted to let that shit happen? Fine. But you sure as hell weren’t going to stick around and watch.

The rational part of you knew that you were acting ridiculous, much like a child throwing a tantrum with the way you’d just stormed off. But the rational part of you was not in control right now. The rational part of you had disappeared as soon as you saw her put her hands on your boyfriend.

Your heels clicked along the floorboards as you made your way toward the door, harsh breaths escaping your flared nostrils at the vision replaying over and over again in your head.

You were so distracted that you didn’t even hear the footsteps coming toward you, nearly jumping out of your skin when you suddenly collided with a body.

“Whoa, where are you going?” Jimin asked after steadying your body with his hands on your shoulders, seemingly walking back from the bathroom before you nearly trampled him on your fast paced trip down the hallway.

A frown appeared on his face as he studied your reddened cheeks and overall shifted energy from only a few minutes ago, ducking his head as his eyebrows knit together in concern.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, your mouth gaping for a second as you considered what to say, knowing you could not possibly state the actual reason you had attempted to storm out of the party without being seen as crazy by your friend.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” He lowered his voice, your eyes widening at the sudden excuse before you shook your head no.

You felt horrible lying to Jimin as he looked at you with a sympathetic frown, the back of his hand going to your forehead with a concerned furrow of his brows. But it was the only option you had; that or looking like the jealous maniac you were at the moment.

“I-I was just going to get some air.” You explained weakly, Jimin nodding before looking back at the flashing lights of the dance floor.

Was that what you were trying to do? Honestly, you didn’t know. The only thing going through your mind while walking out through the hallway was simply getting as far as you could from what was going on at the bar.

“You want me to come with you?” He offered, making you smile slightly before shaking your head again.

“No, Jimin, I’m fine. This is your party and I want you to go have fun. If I don’t see you again, happy birthday.” You faked a smile, the man nodding before pulling you in for a hug.

It was then that you heard the quiet thumping of footsteps down the hall, pulling away from your friend’s embrace to find none other than your boyfriend approaching behind Jimin.

“Feel better, alright?” Jimin gently squeezed at your shoulder, you nodding in response before he walked away, leaving you alone with Jungkook in the otherwise empty hallway.

“You’re not feeling well, baby?” His brows knit pulled together, having overheard the last bit of the conversation in his stroll to find you after returning to your empty spot in the booth, drinks finally in hand.

“Not really. Just need some air.” You sighed, your boyfriend stepping forward with a press of his palm to your spine to lead you outside, no hesitation in his actions as he concentrated on getting you out of the building.

Despite the goosebumps pricking your arms, the cold air that met your skin when Jungkook shoved the door open felt nice. You didn’t even realize how overheated you’d gotten in your rage, only realizing then how sickly you’d probably looked to Jimin.

Well, at least that excuse would work out for you.

“Fuck, it’s cold.” Jungkook mumbled, interrupting your thoughts as he slipped his jacket off of his shoulders to drape over your own, taking a seat beside you on the sidewalk.

You thanked him quietly at the polite gesture, sighing out as you placed your elbows on your knees, resting your forehead in your hands. Honestly, at this point, you did have a headache. But it wasn’t from alcohol or the pulsing music in the building behind you.

It was entirely induced by the way the blood had rushed to your head when you’d seen that girl push herself at your boyfriend, shamelessly giggling at him in a high pitched tone that had you clenching your fists, the crescent moon imprints from your fingernails still dug into your palm.

It really wasn’t his fault; he hadn’t done anything in return. But at the sight, you couldn’t hold back the fiery monster inside of you, the feeling that you just wanted to slap whoever tried to steal this man from you.

You hated yourself for feeling this way, knowing that Jungkook deserved someone who didn’t make a fuss out of these silly little things. The anger had now almost completely faded, manifesting itself in frustration with yourself and your own insecurities.

Now you were just projecting, taking feelings that were in no way his fault out on him.

“What are you doing?” He spoke up, interrupting your thought process as you continued blinking down at the pavement beside your feet.

Jungkook had been sitting next to you this entire time, observing you with wide eyes as you seemed to completely dissociate; something not all too uncommon for you to do when you were upset about something.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, suddenly alert when he noticed your lower lip tremble a bit, big doe eyes staring back at you as he tried to figure out what was going on with you.

“Nothing, Kook. I just want to go home, I think. I’ll get a cab so you can stay-”

“Baby, if you want to leave, I’m coming with you. C’mon, let’s go home.” Jungkook said as he pushed himself up from the ground, reaching his palm out to you, a bit of relief washing through his body when you let him hold your hand and tug you up from the ground.

Fuck, you wished he wasn’t so sweet. It made it even harder to be upset with him.

You didn’t let go of his hand once you were standing, Jungkook not taking the initiative of letting go either. The touch provided a bit of comfort to the both of you, his touch grounding your anger and your touch reassuring him that it was maybe not him that you were upset with. Maybe.

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” He stopped you again, studying your expression with a slight pout. With a silent nod, you let him lead you down the sidewalk, footsteps in tune with his own as you made your way down the street.

Jungkook kept sneaking glances over at you, lost as he tried his best to navigate the clues your body language was giving him.

Your head was cast downward, eyes never meeting his even as he looked over at you. Your hand held his tightly, most likely subconsciously as you seemed completely in your own head at the moment.

With a deep breath, he paused to interrupt your trudge along the sidewalk, his sudden stop causing you to pause as well, barely even registering the action as self deprivating thoughts continued to swirl around your head.

“Hey,” he softly called for your attention, your eyes meeting his at the sound, “what’s going on?”

His question had you diverting your eyes again, instead focusing on a passing car as you bit the side of your cheek in angst. He was going to get it out of you sooner or later; he was persistent, always had been.

“I’m fine.” You responded, not knowing what else to say as the wind blew your hair back from your face.

You watched as Jungkook’s face morphed from confusion to absolute sadness, his fingers gently soothing over your cheek to confirm what he’d thought he’d seen in the glow from the headlights of the car passing by seconds ago.

“Baby, you’re crying.”

With a confused hum, you lifted your hand to your face, swiping your wet cheeks and cursing under your breath. You truly hadn’t felt it happen, but you supposed it was no wonder with the growing lump in your throat.

“I think it’s the wind.” You mumbled lamely, Jungkook scoffing before pulling you into a hug, guiding your head to the crook of his neck as you easily complied.

“If you think I’m buying that for a single second,” he sighed, “can you please tell me what’s wrong?” He asked sadly, awaiting an answer as you sniffled into his neck.

“I don’t wanna say it. I already feel like an asshole.” You responded, feeling more tears prick your eyeballs at the mere thought of bringing up your doubts to him. The last thing you wanted was for Jungkook to take your own stupid insecurities and blame himself.

“What?” Jungkook asked, confusion lacing his tone as he slightly pulled away from you to glance at your face.

“That girl fucking pissed me off. And then I stormed out like a child. I ignored you because I didn’t know how to approach the conversation like an adult. I hurt you, so now I’m crying.” You explained, sniffling as Jungkook swiped at your tears with his thumbs, confusion etched into his features at your scattered thoughts.

“What girl pissed you off?” He cocked his head, making you widen your eyes in disbelief.

“At the party.” You stated obviously.

When his face still didn’t change, you sighed, biting your lip out of nerves before your boyfriend undid the action with his finger. His eyebrows were still bunched in confusion, fumbling to figure out the cause of your emotions.

“At the bar, Kook. She was all over you.” You specified, the wheels slowly turning in Jungkook’s head as his mouth gaped open.

“Are you kidding?” He asked in disbelief, making you huff before crossing your arms over your chest, turning away from him with a plastered on smile.

“Yep, I guess I’m just a dumbass.” You shrugged, beginning to walk away before Jungkook caught you with an arm around your waist, pulling you back to him.

“No, no, no, stop. That’s not what I meant. I just, I can’t really believe you’re so upset about something like that.” He explained, you remaining silent as you adjusted your gaze down to the top button on his shirt.

By now, the jealousy had almost fully faded, leaving you feeling ashamed and embarrassed of your previous actions influenced by your momentary rage.

“I can acknowledge that she wasn’t exactly being appropriate,” He spoke slowly, “but I wasn’t engaging with it, was I?”

You shrugged at that, blinking at a nearby telephone pole as you nervously fiddled with your fingers tucked into Jungkook’s coat pocket.

“What does that mean?” He asked at the action, causing you to sigh as you looked back at him.

“It means I don’t know. You weren’t exactly pushing her off of you.” You explained, causing Jungkook to raise his eyebrows at you in a deadpanned stare.

“No, I didn’t push her off of me. That’s a step too far, don’t you think?” He asked, inhaling deeply in an attempt to ground his building frustrations, grabbing your hand in his and soothing his thumb over the skin of your knuckles.

“You have to trust me, love. I would never do anything to hurt you.” He spoke softly, you nodding in reply as his eyes implored yours to believe him.

“I know that. I do trust you, Kook. I’m sorry.” You sniffled, Jungkook pulling you into his chest again and stroking his fingers through your hair at the back of your head.

“I’m not upset with you, baby. Just a little confused, is all.” He pulled back slightly to look at your face, tucking some loose strands of your hair behind your ears as his eyes studied your own puffy ones.

“Why did you get so upset?” He asked, making you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion at the obvious answer to his question.

“Because that girl was all over you an-”

“That’s not what I mean. Why did that girl bother you so much if you know I only want you?” He interrupted you, watching as you sighed knowingly, gulping the fresh lump in your throat down in an attempt to bury your emotions.

“It’s not you. I trust you.” You assured him, the man nodding at you as he patiently waited for your elaboration.

“It’s not you that’s the problem. It’s me.” You said shakily, face crumpling into tears once again making Jungkook step toward you to hug you once again.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it, it’s okay.” He soothed you, running his hand up and down your spine comfortingly before you pulled back slightly to look at him.

“Me crying isn’t a reason to avoid this conversation, Jungkook. I’m being ridiculous and I’m sorry.” You wiped your tears with the pads of your fingers, swiping them away in frustration that you couldn’t express your thoughts and feelings without bawling like a baby.

“I know it’s not, it is a conversation we need to have, I know that. But you’re upset, I’m upset, we’re tired, and it’s fucking cold out here.” He finished with a slight laugh, making you chuckle as well.

“Let’s just go home, change into some comfortable clothes, and then we’ll talk. Calmly. Okay?” He asked, you frowning as you looked back at the building you’d tried to leave in a huff.

“You don’t want to stay? I’m fine with staying.” You assured him, the man chuckling slightly as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I just want to go home with my favorite girl.” He mumbled against the skin, pulling back to raise his eyebrows at your skeptical expression.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He nodded, smiling gently at you when you nodded in agreement, taking his hand in yours once again as you let him lead you to the car.

“Hop on in, m’lady.” He gestured with a nod, holding the passenger side door open as you slipped past him to sit in the car.

You expected him to close the door and round the vehicle to get into the drivers side, but you were surprised when he instead leaned over your body, placing his hand on your jaw to press his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

Taken aback at the way his lips hungrily captured yours, your hand instinctively came up to support the back of his head as you allowed his tongue to push its way past your lips.

The pads of your fingers soothed over the hair on his nape as his soft lips melded with yours, tiny puffs of air escaping from his nostrils and hitting your skin as he continued his dizzying ministrations.

Pulling back, he pressed a gentle kiss to your bottom lip, looking down at you with fluttered eyelids as he stroked his thumb across your cheek.

“My heart is yours. I‘m in love with you. And that will never change.” He reminded you, your eyes glued to his pretty features in awe as you soaked in his words.

“I know that, Kookie. I do.” You responded quietly, the man nodding in satisfaction before leaning in to peck your lips one last time, pulling back and withdrawing himself from the car.

When he shut the door, you were surrounded in silence once again, but this time your mind wasn’t making it so loud.

It was eased even just the slightest bit at the man’s reassurances, comforted by the way his hand held your own, resting upon your thigh as he started the car.

Your insecurities would not vanish overnight, that was for sure. But with the tender patience Jungkook never failed to provide you with, you had no doubt that it was an issue that could be worked through.

Leaning over to press your lips to Jungkook’s cheek, a smile quirked his lips at the action, turning to you with a shy grin as your eyes traced his features in the dark.

“What was that for?” He asked, smile widening when you shrugged your shoulders.

“I just love you. Thank you for putting up with me and all my crazy bullshit.” You said, Jungkook scoffing in response, lifting your joint hands to kiss at your knuckles.

“I love you. Along with all your crazy bullshit.”

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dannyphantom-rewrite · 4 years ago

Text

Timekeeper's assistants AU

Alright y'all! This is gonna be my info dump post for the Timekeepers assistant Au- buckle up cause it's gonna be a long one!

Inspired by @queendibz post here

The entire purpose of the assistant squad is to keep all the time lines running smoothly- this can range from stopping a world ending event to making sure things misplaced by natural ghost portals get put back into the right time and place.

So First up on the crew list,

Dan:

-Dan definitely isn't a homicidal maniac anymore but he's not 100 percent "redeemed" either.

-I mean he's probably still a bit of sadist but he tries not to be?

-The best description I can give is that he's in recovery, basically.

-So, Clockwork knew that Dan would eventually bust out of the thermos just because it wasn't built to hold a ghost of his power level for a prolonged period of time. But beyond that?? He has no idea about anything in regards to Dan. Since Dan's creation was averted, his timeline doesn't exist anymore. He's a paradox that exists outside of time, and unfortunately, that means he's the one entity in the multiverse that exists in Clockwork's blindspot. There's no way for him to know what Dan's going to do next.

-Anyway, Dan eventually breaks out of the thermos fully intending to Fuck Shit Up, And Clockwork makes a point of informing him that if he leaves the clock tower he will cease to exist. (Like Dan, the tower exists outside of time, so he's safe there.)

-Dan is the first member of the assistant squad. Granted, it took a while for him to come around to the idea of helping Clockwork but he got there eventually.

-Dan is an entity that was born out of the rage and grief of two very broken people and he has so much shit he's working through as a result

-One of the first things he had to do was recognize and accept that he's an entity that's completely separate from Vlad and Danny. He might have all their memories and the weight of their mistakes on his shoulders, and on top of that, the atrocities he himself committed because of them. The first step is realizing that he doesn't have to be defined by the people that made him.

-It's a really fucking difficult thing to do tho and he's got a lot of weird emotions in regards to Vlad, Danny and the Fentons as a result. A near constant identity crisis, self loathing, daddy issues, something that could arguably be called an Oedipus complex, (FUCKING THANKS, VLAD)

-Cannot stand the smell of fast food, it makes him nauseous and the sight of Nasty Burger sauce alone is enough to make him vomit Ectoplasm.

-He's just a hot mess all around y'all

-He tries to keep his interactions with the Danny's as minimal as possible at first bc of this. The first time he meets them in person he shape shifts into Danny like he did in TUE and just pretends to be one of them. Some of them have had interactions with their respective Dan's already and would be super wary of him and probably pretty freaked out otherwise.

-Dan is eventually allowed to leave the clocktower for supervised "Field missions" with the aid of a time medallion to keep him from poofing out of existence, but it takes a while for clockwork to build up that level of trust.

-Dan's shapeshifting ability Actually comes into play a bit on a lot of those missions, since he can Mimic Danny it also makes sense that he'd be able to impersonate Vlad in the same way. Granted he's not incredibly comfortable taking on either of their appearances but it does help him hone his shapeshifting ability to the point where he's able to pick and choose features from both Vlad and Danny and sorta make his own human disguise.

-Most of the time he acts as the eye in the sky from the tower, monitoring for timeline anomalies and then notifying the appropriate member of the assistant squad.

-He has a room under the clock tower that he operates from. I kinda like the idea of there being like, catacombs down there? Anyway he's got all kinds of monitors and view screens and he very rarely leaves. It also doubles as his "living space." He doesn't need to sleep but he's got a big mess of a pillow fort that he crashes in regardless bc sometimes you just NEED to be unconscious for a while. The catacombs are also absolutely full of those little blob ghosts that wander around the zone bc They're attracted to the ecto energy the tower gives off. He's really annoyed by them at first but they grow on him after a while and now he just dotes on them.

-There's a specific throw pillow sized one that likes to hang out in Dan's room a lot and he ended up getting a little over attached to the stupid thing. His name is Dorian. Bc he's a gift.

-SIR THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLOB

-Dan's appearance has changed slightly. He wears his hair loose now and it's kinda just this big fiery mane when it's not contained. His cape is more of a cloak now, it has a hood and he wears it sorta pinned together at the shoulder so the DP logo is covered.

-Dan's relationship with the rest of the Danny's is kinda weird, and a little strained. He has a hard time being around them for very long because, well, he used to sort of be them? Except not really? He does care about them tho, and the last thing he'd want is for one of them to end up like him.

-His relationship with clockwork definitely starts out pretty familial, after he becomes his assistant, anyway. There's room for that to develop into meddling minutes but I'm not entirely sure if I'm gonna go that route yet.

-The Danny's only ever hear his voice for a while before he finally let's them meet him for real, so they end up calling him Charlie for a while as a joke. Cause Ya know. Charlie's angels. Even after Charlie still ends up being his designated name on missions.

Mer! Danny:

-Was recruited bc a lot of the shit that gets sucked through natural portals ends up in a body of water somewhere and when that happens he's on call to retrieve it.

-Is Actually not at all ghostly! Mer Danny's situation is basically the plot of H2O (just add water), or if you haven't seen that, Aquamarine. And by that I mean he's only a merfolk in water.

-He's an electric eel

-His Jack and Maddie are marine biologists, with a particular interest in marine cryptids

-We're taking sea monsters baby!!!

-Not entirely sure how this Danny ended up half mer yet but I'll figure it out, lmao.

-14 years old

-His nickname/ designation is "Moray"

Crown Prince! Danny:

-Nickname/designation is Prince / Princey

-16 years old

-Not allowed to go anywhere in the zone without the Fright knight bc of some ancient ghost law bullshit, so he has a constant babysitter.

-He's next in line bc he sealed away Pariah, but can't take the throne until he is both, A) at least 18 years and B) Completely deceased

-Vlad is his Regent bc he did have a part in the whole sealing the previous king thing, but he's also not completely dead so his power is super limited there.

-As Prince Danny has the crown of fire in his ghost form, although now the name is kinda ironic seeing as it's completely frozen over. It's blue now and it smokes like dry ice.

-As Regent, Vlad has the ring of rage for "safe keeping"

-Vlad and Danny are pretty much constantly at each other's throats, fright knights probably had to shut down more than a few of Vlad's attempts to usurp the crown from Danny through combat.

-Princey deals with the timeline issues that involve the ghost zones' internal / political affairs, and he's gotten very well versed with dealing with the Observants.

Winged! Danny :

-15 years old

-Mallard duck wings

-His Vlad is a swan

-Comes from a family of waterfowl, Jack is a goose, and Maddie is a white swan. Both he and jazz are ducks bc of their grandparents.

-As Fenton his wings are white, like jazz, and as phantom they turn black with a green iridescent sheen.

-He's trans

-Nickname/ designation is inviso Bill. Bc ducks have bills haha get it-

-Ghostly wail?? Nah son he's gotta killer QUACK

-Absolute besties with Mer!Danny/ Moray, sometimes they go swimming together after a mission.

Clone! Danny:

-Physically he's a 12-year-old, but he's only been alive for a few months.

-Alt universe where Vlad manages to stabilize the perfect clone with his own DNA.

-Dani still exists, and the original danny from his time line also rescued the other problematic clones.

-Doesnt like the fact that he's a clone, and very much wants them all DEAD. Bc them running around is a reminder that he's not the real danny.

-Human half looks the same aside from the widows peak and the mallen streak. His ghost half takes after plasmius. Blue skin, and the Hazmat kept it's original white colors.

-Probably has fangs and a forked tounge.

-Not so much a member of the squad as he is someone that they need to be keeping an eye on.

-Does NOT get along with them.

-Dan enjoys making him uncomfortable.

-Designation is Masters / the brat (not to his face tho)

Family Breakfast AU! Danny:

-A BABY

-The boy is a fucking overpowered todler okay. He's an 8 year old.

-The biological son of his Vlad, was born a Halfa. Jack, Vlad and Maddie got their shit together and are in a healthy poly relationship.

-Got separated from Vlad one time in the zone and inadvertently adopted by the assistant squad and clockwork.

-His Vlad is aware of the squad and just. Dad's the crap out of the Danny's as a result. It makes for some..... interesting interactions.

-I can't think of a nickname so I'm just gonna be lazy and say he gets to be the one Tru Danny bc cute little kind privileges lmao.

Full ghost! Danny:

-15 years old, will always look 14.

-Nickname/designation is Toast

-Died in the portal accident and got fucking FRIED.

-He always smells like somethings burning.

-He's really bright and sorta sparks a bit, you can see his bones glowing through the hazmat.

-He still leave the zone to protect his version of amity, but lives with clockwork full time.

Canon Danny (NOT PHANTOM PLANET COMPLIANT) :

-Basically show Danny, except phantom planet never happened fuck you

-Joined the crew after the events of de stabilized

-Also he's trans fuck butch

-Franken! Danny

-Yall remember that Headless Danny Au? This is my take.

-Is Actually 20 years old, but physically stuck at age 14. Bc he's a walking corpse :)

-Came from a timeline that was directly parallel to Full ghost! Danny. He dies in the portal accident, but jack and Maddie are in the lab when it happens and manage to sort of bring him back using a combination of science and freaky ghost junk.

-So he's basically possessing/ stuck inside of his own dead body. Which, is thankfully not rotting or going into rigor mortis bc Ectoplasm is rather similar to formaldehyde, but he's not the most durable thing and bits and pieces fall off from time to time.

-Like his head. For example.

-He's pretty desensitized to it at this point and if he loses a leg after a ghost fight he doesn't see anything wrong with sitting down on the curb of a main street to stich it back on. His being dead isn't exactly a secret.

-Don't ever ask him to "give you a hand" bc he can and will not hesitate to pop one off and Chuck it at you.

-Said hand and any other body part will continue to function just fine even if it isn't attached to anything, btw.

-Nickname/ designation is Adam. Bc. Ya know. that's the name Frankenstein's monster gave itself.

Post Phantom Planet! Danny:

-A very jaded 22 year old who is driven only by spite and enough caffeine to kill a horse

-Very, very tired of the hero thing.

-Being a global celebrity isn't all it's cracked up to be.

-Decided to follow Vlads lead and fuck off to space for a while. Partially to get away from everyone and also partially bc he kinda feels responsible for the fact that the only other person like him and probably floating DEAD in the void somewhere? And yeah Vlad fucked up all on his own but what if he'd tried harder to get through to him things could have been different-

-Joins the crew after a natural portal opens up in space and decides to help out and use clockworks resources to try and track down his Vlad.

-Nickname/ Designation is Polaris, aka the north star.

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

Text

The Bard’s Sister

Geralt X Reader

Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person)

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was.

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me.

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases.

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not.

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.”

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity.

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly.

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding.

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over. I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher.

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked.

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother.

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise.

“I don’t know…”

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head.

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while.

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall.

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both.

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased.

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently.

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly.

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens.

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me.

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself.

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen.

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description.

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece.

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes.

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me.

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from.

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged.

“What?” He asked.

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand.

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster?

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies.

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy.

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment.

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance.

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again.

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head.

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.”

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one.

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion.

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest.

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him.

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded.

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth.

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst.

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me.

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face.

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head.

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated.

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him.

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered.

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled.

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store.

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers.

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused.

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil.

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were.

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit.

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up.

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins.

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything.

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was.

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was.

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me.

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter.

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes.

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.”

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it.

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me.

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle.

“For?”

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt.

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly.

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me.

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face.

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had.

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home.

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet.

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait.

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed.

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly.

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches.

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin.

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face.

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk.

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all.

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes.

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin.

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray.

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him.

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone.

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t.

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them.

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face.

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me.

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache.

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke.

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend,

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him.

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was.

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled.

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words.

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes.

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with.

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it.

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair.

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly.

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked.

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about.

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious.

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye.

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting.

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face.

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me.

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker.

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked.

“Seriously?” I asked him.

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him.

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands.

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked.

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again.

“Good night, dove.”

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rumblebumble22 · 2 years ago

Text

How did I start to write? Aw, quite awkward

Actually, I have always been quite a shy writer. I remember how I shared my first story with my school friends, that was about my favourite music band. The band’s members became characters in my story, who did all the things which I imagined. Before I showed this story to my friend, I was quite amazed. Not by my talent, certainly, but by the fact that I like write. The words run on the paper. I typed the text on my old home computer and then printed it. I was absorbed by the flood of the story, and everything I imagined was in front of me, in the stack of black-and-white paper.

My friends weren’t so amazed by my piece of art, though. They called it cute and talented, but I knew they just wanted to be polite. Actually, they just didn’t care much about my writing, even though they tried to hide it. What makes young girls excited and nervous? Well, we all know: their look, weight, pimples and boys who ignored them.

They walked timidly in the school’s hallways and gazed at their boys, but I didn't. Instead I I literally lived in the library, so absorbed by books that I hardly notice what is going on around me. My friends changed their haircuts, earrings, and lipsticks, and complained annoyingly about their crashes. I listened to them attentively, but sometimes caught myself wondering when all this will end and I could come back to the book.

Months passed. I got my first diary and with excitement started to write out my first notes. I described everything around me: what I ate, where I was and what I felt. My thoughts weren’t original and truthfully, not very interesting. But what are you waiting for from the 12 year old girl? I liked what I did: the crunch of pen on the paper, the fresh-looked ink which filled out sheets. The magic was in the process, not in the result.

One of my favourite ways of spending time was to walk down the street, then choose a cozy bench, sit and write. I chose hidden places with many trees and no people. Sitting there, under the mild yellow light of the lantern and writing, was better than anything else. It was only me, far away from my noisy family, school problems and the spiky gazes of schoolmates. When I was there, I felt free and safe at the same time. I had control over my life when I filled the pages, and nobody could take it away from me.

My diaries were with me throughout all the years. At first I had the messy black notebook, with the worn cover and yellow pages. Then there was the notebook which looked more like a Bible: chubby bundle of pages, leather cover and the golden lock. I was too scared to write in it; it seemed too mature for 14 years old girl. This intimidated monster looked at me judgingly and commanded me to pen only original and well-composed thoughts. Therefore, I avoided this notebook and instead wrote on random pieces of paper. From time to time, I lost a few of them while putting them together like a greedy crow.

At some point, I became too pissed off by this notebook that I ripped out the cover and painted the first pages with different markers. Right after that I felt better and immediately wrote down my first thought: ”13 August. Fuck you.'' The monster with a big golden lock dissapeared and I could finally write in this notebook my thoughts.

In my youth I gave up writing quite often, because there were so many other things which I wanted to do, like drawing or playing guitar. However, I found that other activities didn’t help me so well to fly out of my mind, drop bothering thoughts and just be there, on the page. At the same time, writing looked for me like something so simple that I didn’t think it actually might be interesting. It was like a child toy, which I adored first but refused to pick up when I grew up.

Aw, how wrong I was. I made heaps of inarticulate attempts to be this or that in my life. I became more and more disconnected from writing. I wanted to prove that I’m competent, that I could do difficult things. I was a boss, a manager, an artist, a musician, and a tattoo model. I was a bartender and even a ''girl-in-sport'' at some point. I was everyone and did everything, except the one thing to which I was most inclined — write.

Then one day something cracked in me and I looked around. Why am I here? What do I do? I hated my job at the time and even though I made good money. Truthfully, I craved for meaning in my life. This meaning could not be found in my dull work.

Not only did I quit my job, but I also quit this lifestyle. If you think it was easy, it was not. When you build a life style, it's difficult to change it, even if it doesn't fit you anymore. Now I think about my connection with this life like some type of abusive relationship. I felt pain, boredom and anxiety, but I didn’t quit for two years. You can ask ‘’Why?’’. Because it was boring and shitty, but at the same time… Comfortable? Familiar? Predictably? You name it.

At last there was a moment when I couldn’t beat the blunt pain of feeling that I’m not in the right place. I knew I had wandered off into a dark forest and if nothing changes, I’ll stay there forever. It was a forest of sparkling offices, neat suits and white-toothed smiles. The place of brute force, the castle with chains on the walls. Under the chains were nameplates: ‘’Director of this. Department of those’’

I hate all these things so much that I started to hate them on paper. I hate it so much that my hate helped me to find the way out of my job. I started writing to express my difficult feelings. It helped. Then I write an article for some indie magazine — for free, of course. After that I closed my eyes and sent an appliance job. A writer’s job. It wasn’t a New York magazine or Guardian, certainly. Don't forget, we're not in a movie theater. It was just some small advertising company, and they needed a writer. So here I was.

Disheveled guy scrolled down my online blog, which I wrote for fun, and laughed at a couple of jokes.

’Did you write it or steal it?''

‘’I wrote it’’

‘ÓK, when can you start working?''

I gasped and almost jumped up in the chair. But I didn’t because it was a zoom call and well, you know, a job interview.

‘’After three days’’.

‘’Great. I’ll take you’’.

#writing #female writers #creative writing #reading #books #writing community #writer #writers of tumblr #writblr #books & libraries

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years ago

Text

Thank you sweet anon for your request!! Again, I didn’t fully proof-read this bad boy so please forgive the errors! I hope you enjoy some angry Jealous!Geralt!

A/N Request: Geralt meeting your ex who thinks that you're still together/or tries to get you back in front of geralt?

The great hall was alive with royals and nobility alike. Laughter and chatter mingled easily with the sound of the band’s lively jig and the soft tinkering of fine cutlery.

The hosts had expected you and Geralt to make an appearance at dusk, but neither of you were particularly fond of all the fuss royalty liked to put up, so it wasn’t until long past sunset that you joined the party. Jaskier on the other hand, was overjoyed at the prospect of attending such an illustrious affair. He’d put up a fuss around noon and insisted he be allowed to take Roach so that he could arrive in time to make a strong impression with all in attendance. Of course, Geralt had refused, so he had gone off on foot, strutting and sighing dramatically.

Now, as you and Geralt did your best to navigate the already flushed crowd, you found yourself wishing you’d arrived sooner. It was easier to avoid people when they were being stifled by a sobering social awkwardness; after hours of ales and fine wine, however, people seemed to get a little too comfortable for your liking.

“I hate these ridiculous evenings,” Geralt grumbled, holding his arms close to his body uncomfortably.

“Maybe if we saved less lives,” you said, biting back a smile, “they’d be less inclined to insist we attend.”

Geralt only responded with a grunt and a roll of his eyes, which made you laugh lightly as you looped your arm through his and led him deeper into the crowd.

“C’mon love,” you said, a slight tease to your tone, “let’s find the free food and drink we were promised, yeah?”

You laughed again as he fought back a smile. “Atta boy Geralt, don’t smile too much or you’ll ruin your reputation as the big bad wolf.”

“Will you shut up,” he muttered, handing you a goblet of wine.

“I don’t think I will,” you said downing the wine in one go, “and could you hand me an ale?”

“I don’t think I will,” he teased, kissing your temple lightly before handing you his mug to share. You take a slow sip, your eyes twinkling as you held Geralt’s gaze, already feeling the liquor warming you from the inside. You hand him back his drink and kiss him lightly in thanks.

“Do you want to –”

You were both pulled away from your conversation by a loud clang from across the room. Geralt furrowed his brows and turned towards the sound quickly, untangling his arm from yours before reaching for his sword. He immediately relaxed as the familiar shouts and accusations resounded through the hall.

You collectively sighed your frustration as you saw Jaskier get chased into a corner by an angry nobleman; no doubt his latest conquest’s husband, who was not quite as pleased to hear the bard’s dulcet tones.

“It’s your turn,” Geralt said, downing his ale before reaching for a second helping.

“I don’t think so! I’m the one who saved him from that fisherman at the last village! It’s your turn,” you said, poking him in the chest before stealing his mug and holding it away from him.

“Actually,” he said, his low gravelly voice reverberating through you as he leaned across your body to grab his drink from your hand, “it was my turn at the last village, but you just couldn’t help yourself and jumped in to save the day. Rules are rules my dove; it’s your turn.”

You scoffed incredulously at his nerve, but shook your head in resignation; he was right after all, the rules you outlined were clear and the cycling of turns was strict.

“Well fuck. I’m taking this ale though,” you said, clapping him on the shoulder before stalking off towards the commotion.

Geralt chuckled lowly and leaned against a marble pillar, marveling at the way you made your way through the crowd. A wandering waiter came by and offered him another ale which he accepts with a polite smile, not taking his eyes off you.

He loved watching you de-escalate social situations. Sometimes it was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one who just melted when you spoke to them directly – you were effortlessly charming and completely disarming. You once managed to convince a band of attacking thieves to stand down so efficiently that by the end of the night, they ended up joining you for dinner around the fire. Yes, Geralt was the professional when it came to handling monsters, but you were the people person of the group.

Watching you now was no exception. Your body language, the way your warm smiled reached your eyes with ease, how smoothly you managed put yourself between Jaskier and the furious man; it was impressive to say the least.

Unfortunately, his attention was pulled away from you suddenly.

“I can’t believe Y/N is here tonight, I thought I’d never see her again!”

At the sound of your name, Geralt whipped his head in the direction of the speaker, cat-like eyes scanning the crowd swiftly.

“Yeah, the very same Y/N I’ve told you about. An amazing lay, I swear it!”

The man in question was holding court half a dozen other knights; they kept snickering and looking off at you in turns. They were teasing him, egging him on for details.

“She’s not as sweet as she looks,” the man stated confidently, “don’t let that smile fool you gentlemen. The last time I took her was in an alley! The little whore was mad for it – couldn’t wait for it, needed it right there and then.”

Geralt was fuming.

He pushed his way through the crowd with great force and little care. He was worried about your honour. Your reputation in the courts – that was all. That was enough to explain the way rage seethed through him and the strange urge to be sick that was hitting him in waves. He was concerned for you as a partner and a friend.

He wasn’t jealous.

“Gods her skin… smelled so good, felt even better… I’m getting her back tonight gents,” he boasted, puffing out his chest.

“You don’t have a chance,” said the knight closest to the bastard bragging about shagging you, “it’s been ages since you’ve last seen each other, and if she’s as good as you say, she definitely found someone new.”

Damn right, Geralt thought furiously, swallowing the bile bubbling at the back of his throat.

“No, no, believe me the way she mewled and screamed for me? She’ll do more than remember,” he said, disgusting confidence dripping off every word, “she’ll beg to have me back.”

You’ll beg for mercy when I crush your fucking skull you pathetic –

His murderous march was abruptly interrupted by Jaskier. The bard cut in front of him and planted himself squarely before him, chattering on incomprehensibly.

Geralt’s eyes were bugging out in panic as he watched the bastard strut confidently towards you. He tried to push past Jaskier but the bard was quick to match him in posture.

“Look I know you’re upset with me for ruining your evening but she came after me,” he insisted, “I mean I can’t blame her the song his perhaps my most romantic sonnet. Speaking of my writing – Geralt can you look at me when I am sharing my musings with you, please? Thank you – as I was saying, Y/N inspired me tonight to write this song –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, “move!”

“Wha – why?” Jaskier pivoted on the spot – keeping Geralt’s path blocked – as he sought the source of his friends’ fury. When he saw that you were speaking politely to some knight he scoffed loudly before turning back.

“Oh-ho, no,” he laughed, “you’re jealous of that oaf? Geralt, seriously?”

“I am not jealous,” he spat, only able to look at Jaskier for a moment before his glare shot back up towards you.

“She’s just being polite! Seriously you always assume the worst in people, Geralt, it’s sad.”

“I see people as they are,” he muttered, watching closely as the knight took a half-step towards you, he let out a menacing growl when you didn’t step backwards. “For what they are.”

“Okay then why can’t you see that’s just some poor sap who, I don’t know, maybe wants to thank Y/N for her help in saving this kingdom.”

“Shut up, will you? I’m trying to hear what they’re saying.”

“You don’t need a Witchers’ hearing to know what’s happening over there,” he brambled on putting on voices as he acted out the conversation, “’Hi I’m Y/N’, ‘Hi I’m an unimportant but very grateful knight, pleased to meet you blah blah blah…”

“Fuck, Jaskier, shut UP –” he stopped himself when he heard your laugh, the deep full laugh you normally reserved for him.

Jaskier heard your laugh too, and turned his head to double check he’d heard right. When he saw the familiar twinkle in your eye, he looked Geralt with wide eyes.

“They know each other?” he asked.

“They,” he started, struggling to get the words out, “t-they knew each other.”

“Wait you don’t mean,” Jaskier started, connecting the dots, “that they knew each other intimately?” He wagged his fingers suggestively as he said the last word.

When Geralt’s only reply was a low, seething hum, Jaskier whistled lowly before shaking his head.

“Well that explains,” he waved his hands vaguely at Geralt, “this reaction.”

Geralt was about to shove the bard aside when he saw you waving him over. You were smiling widely as you waved, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He cleared his throat and pushed Jaskier lightly before charging towards you with the bard in tow.

“Ah, finally!” you exclaimed, swiftly wrapping your arms around his bicep, pulling him close, “Geralt, I want you to meet an old friend of mine, Hoeck. Hoeck this is Geralt, my partner,” as you spoke, you moved to loop his arm around your waist, “and this is Jaskier, he’s responsible for the wonderful music tonight.”

“The White Wolf,” said Hoek, sizing Geralt up, “wow - what an honour.”

He hummed in acknowledgement and took the knight’s hand in a tight grip, feeling immense satisfaction watching the man wince.

“And -erm, thank you sir Jaskier, for the wonderful music,” he said, trying and failing to subtly rub at his hand.

“Thank you, good sir. I speaking of, I should get back out there.” He shot you and Geralt a look and swung his lute around his back before strumming a few notes. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You all nodded to him as he strode off, beckoning the band to join him.

An awkward silence settled over the three of you. Geralt was clearly seething as he held your waist in a tighter grasp than necessary. After a beat, you shot Hoek a tight-lipped smile and made up some excuse about needing to say hello to the king and queen before the night came to a close.

“Ah certainly,” he said, disappointment obvious, “well if you ever find yourself in need of company –”

“I won’t,” you said quickly.

“She won’t,” Geralt growled, his deep voice overlapping with yours.

At that, the knight swallowed thickly and walked back towards his group with tail between his legs and his hand held close to his chest.

Once alone, you turned in Geralt’s arms and looked up at his sour face accusingly.

“Why did it take you so long to come rescue me!” you said, tugging playfully at his hair.

“Didn’t look like you wanted to be saved,” he said lowly, eyes still alight with jealousy, “and Jaskier got in my way.”

“That’s a shit excuse and a weak lie. He was all over me! It took all I had not to rip the bastard’s arms off!” you said, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you. “Gods he has some nerve.”

“Hm,” he hissed, “you’re right about that.”

“Geralt,” you looked up at him carefully and gently caressed the crease between his brows, “this is more than jealousy. What’s going on?”

Geralt hesitated before relaxing his face into your hand and took a small sigh. “It’s nothing. And I’m not jealous.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, “Can you look at me? Please?”

Reluctantly, he brought his eyes down to meet yours.

“Thank you,” you said, cupping his face before moving your hands to rest on his chest, “can you talk to me?”

“Don’t be patronizing,” he warned.

“Don’t be obstinate,” you countered.

Geralt rolled his eyes at you before pulling you closer to him. “Maybe I was a little jealous, and maybe,” he sighed deeply, “I was a little worried.”

“Geralt,” you started, your heart breaking at the sight of him, “you have nothing to worry about when it comes to us. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” he said quietly, “but the way he was talking about you – knowing he had been with you in that way...” Geralt stopped himself as he felt his anger come roaring back at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”

“To be honest, I wouldn’t have been upset with you if you had,” you said, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Your time with Hoek was beyond brief; he was nice enough at first but quickly he became aggressive and possessive. You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked back on your time together and you hated that your beloved witcher was letting this get to him.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmured when you realized he wasn’t letting up, “I’m yours. Completely and unwaveringly yours.” You kissed his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.

He kissed you back slowly at first, but his kiss deepened as you leaned into him. Geralt pulled away just a little and rested his forehead against yours.

“Y/N… I’m – I love you so much…” he whispered, “it’s just… the things he said about you –” he started, hating himself for needing to hear your side of the story.

“Either untrue or exaggerated, that I can promise.”

“Something about an alley…?” Geralt asked, holding his breath.

“Oh ew! That was a terrible night,” you shuddered, “he was so insistent! Wouldn’t take no for an answer – Wait, what was he saying about it? Gods, maybe I’ll kill him.” Anger and humiliation burned at the back of your throat.

Seeing your visceral reaction, Geralt was immediately overcome by feelings of guilt, for making you relive the memory, relief, that your reaction was so negative, and rage, knowing that not only did this pompous ass make forceful advances on you but he always lied about it to a crowd.

Feeling the intensity of your anger radiating off you, Geralt was about to suggest that the two of you left before you did anything you’d regret when Jaskier came running through the crowd shouting that it was time to leave.

You took off running behind the bard, holding Geralt’s hand tightly as you raced down the castle’s corridors.

“Why are we running?” you shouted, a little breathless.

“I might have added a little something to our charming friend’s drink, and he might be having a very intense negative reaction to it!” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed through fits of laughter, “Jaskier!”

“He’ll be fine! Eventually!” he added, he turned and ran backwards so he could shoot you a wink before adding, “No one messes with our girl, right Geralt?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at his friend before he ran up behind you and scooped you up bridal-style – all without breaking his stride.

“Damn right,” he said, smiling widely at Jaskier before planting a quick kiss to your temple.

#geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher netflix #jealous!geralt #request #fanfic #fanfiction #witcher fic #witcher geralt #witcher x reader #jaskier

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charincharge · 4 years ago

Text

I Don’t Want To Wait, nineteen

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompts:

Walking in on Lyria/Rowan in a compromising position

How the hell are you two friends? We’re not. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

Aelin sighed as she scrolled through her texts. Putting Lorcan and Lysandra on the same group text had turned out to be her own undoing. Together, they were a tag team that she had not been prepared for, bouncing ideas back and forth with a never-ending list of potential suitors.

She rolled her eyes as Lysandra’s latest text came through.

WE HAVE A HOMECOMING DANCE CONTENDER!

Lorcan’s text came quickly after.

Don’t spoil it. I want to see her face in person when we tell her.

Monsters. Both of them. It seemed that something they could both agree on was wanting to be Aelin’s wingman, and it had bonded the two faster than Aelin could have predicted.

Because apparently Aelin was too picky. When the first names started rolling in, all Aelin could think was all of the reasons why they wouldn’t be a good match for her. She looked at the unanswered notification on her phone, not clicking into the text from Rowan, but reading the words clearly.

Will I see you at Homecoming?

She didn’t know why she was having such a hard time replying to it. The answer was yes. She would be there, of course. But she was nervous that if she told him that, she’d inevitably have to make plans to meet up. And she definitely didn’t want to hang out with him and Lyria on the cheerleader’s big night.

Homecoming was a huge affair at Orynth High – a full weekend extravaganza with a pep rally around a bonfire, followed by the game and a dance on Saturday night. And of course, Lorcan would be hosting a giant after party. Aelin had always loved Homecoming. She and Rowan had always gone out to dinner before the pep rally and heckled the game from the sidelines, then Aelin would force him to come to the dance, mocking the way he’d grump about going but inevitably have a good time. It was one of her favorite school traditions, but this year she was dreading it. She knew it wasn’t going to be anything like the last two Homecomings.

Coffee Cat in 30? Lysandra asked, interrupting her train of thought, and Aelin chuckled when Lorcan sent back a thumbs up immediately.

She supposed she had nothing better to do today. It certainly beat staring at Rowan’s unanswered text.

Thirty minutes later, Aelin was shocked to find her friends packed into the corner couch section of Manon’s favorite coffee spot. She hadn’t anticipated them all being there, but sure enough, Lysandra, Elide, Manon and Lorcan were all there, drinks in hand, whispering softly. Manon sat as far away from Lorcan as possible, her golden eyes narrowed as she greeted Aelin with a stiff smile. Aelin had gathered the two had bad blood, but hadn’t been able to suss out where it came from.

Lysandra patted the seat next to her and handed her a hazelnut coffee. Aelin moaned appreciatively as she took a sip.

“Okay, hit me.”

The group looked at each other conspiratorially before Lysandra beamed. “Chaol Westfall.”

“No,” Aelin responded automatically.

Lysandra held up her hand with a frown. “Hear us out! You’ve turned down at least ten other guys, and this one is a really good option!”

“He’s my lab partner!” Aelin insisted. “I’m not willing to tank my Physics grade for a handful of dates that will inevitably end poorly.”

Manon scoffed loudly. “Defeatist,” she said at the same time Lorcan said, “Cynic.”

They briefly made eye contact and looked away quickly again. Aelin could feel her lips purse in curiosity. But she wasn’t able to ask what was on her mind because Elide did it for her. “Why aren’t you two friends?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Manon laughed, her head tipping back wildly. “Because we’re mortal enemies,” she said with a wry smile at her girlfriend.

Elide looked between the pair, so starkly different in appearance – one pale and white haired, the other dark skinned and dark haired – and shrugged. “Keep your friends close but your enemies closer, right?”

Lorcan raised a dark brow in Elide’s direction and smiled in a way that Aelin had never seen before. It made her strangely nervous. And if the vice grip Manon was keeping on Elide’s hand was any indication, she felt similarly.

“Back to Chaol,” Lysandra quipped, and Aelin could feel herself slouch over, annoyed. They really weren’t going to let this one go. “He’s smart. You know that because you are lab partners. He’s so polite. You already know he’s a good dancer. Remember your birthday party?”

Aelin nodded, though the memory of dancing with Chaol seemed like lifetimes ago, not mere months.

“I think he’s a super solid option,” Elide chimed in.

Aelin sighed. “And what if I ask him and he says no?”

Lorcan held up a finger. “We have a backup choice. Obviously.” Aelin held her breath, waiting for the other name to drop. “Fenrys Moonbeam.”

“What?” Aelin replied, confused. “No. He’s on the lacrosse team with Rowan.” The rest of the group stared at her, as if her comment meant anything. “I don’t want anything I do to eventually make its way to locker room talk!” she explained, her frustration with her friends rising by the minute.

“Stop shooting every suggestion down!” Manon huffed, clearly just as annoyed with Aelin.

“What are we shooting down?” Rowan’s voice called from behind the group, and Aelin jumped as she felt his hand touch her shoulder. She glanced over her shoulder at the tall boy, hovering over the back of the couch and watched as he removed his hand from her quickly, shoving it back into his pocket as he glanced at the group of friends.

“We’re trying to come up with a boyfriend for Aelin,” Lorcan explained, all too aware of the grenade he’d just launched. Aelin glared at him.

“Oh?” Rowan replied, his eyebrows shooting up into his forehead. Aelin wished she could stand up and push it back down.

“But she’s being a total naysayer,” Lysandra frowned.

“Good,” Rowan said, exhaling quickly, causing Aelin to frown at him. What does that mean? She asked him silently, and he backed off immediately. “I just mean, no one at school is nearly good enough for you.”

There was a pregnant pause of silence while Aelin struggled to find something to say in response to him, but she couldn’t think of a single thing, other that – what about you? Are you good enough? She shook the thought from her head.

“I still vote Chaol,” Lorcan chimed in, causing Aelin to sigh again.

“If I ask Chaol to Homecoming, will you all leave me alone?” she asked. She wasn’t surprised in the least to see four matching grins staring back at her. “Though, I still don’t think he’s going to say yes,” she added.

Rowan coughed lightly behind her, and she looked over her shoulder again as he cleared his throat. “I don’t think you have to worry about that,” he said, his eyes suddenly trained on the floor, his sneaker tapping lightly.

“What are you even doing here?” Aelin asked, feeling annoyed with his response, until he blanched and then she just felt like a dick for snapping.

“Sometimes Maeve sends me to do competition recon,” he said with a shrug. “So I guess I should…” He pointed in the direction of the coffee counter. “But I’ll see you at Homecoming.” His voice was soft as it addressed her, and Aelin could feel her stomach clench slightly. She nodded, waving goodbye as he made his way to the front of the line.

“Awkwardddd,” Lorcan sang, and Aelin glared at him again. Lorcan held up his hands, laughing. “What? I knew he had a new girlfriend, but I didn’t realize you two had broken up.”

Aelin felt her eyes narrow at the oafish boy on the opposite couch as the group burst out laughing, at her expense, per usual. “You all suck.”

She sighed at the expectant faces looking her way. “So, Chaol?” she asked, still unsure about it.

“Chaol,” they replied in unison, spurring another round of giggles. Aelin was so annoyed, she barely even noticed Rowan glance over his shoulder at the laughing group before exiting the coffee shop quietly.

. . .

It turned out everyone’s assessment had been correct. Despite it only being a few days warning, Chaol had enthusiastically accepted Aelin’s invite to the dance. He also asked if she’d want to go to the pep rally together, completely surprising her. Not particularly ready for a one-on-one date, she suggested he join her group of friends, which he was more than happy to do.

Aelin stared at her sweatshirt and jeans and wondered if she should dress up more for a date, but she shook it off. It was going to be freezing cold at the pep rally and game, and she wasn’t exactly trying too hard to impress the boy who had seen her strung out in science labs most days.

She was just finishing lining her eyes with dark liner when the doorbell rang. She tried to run downstairs and beat her dad, but Rhoe opened the door with a small smirk. “Hello?” he said to the brunette boy on the other side of the door.

Chaol was also wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief that they both seemed to be on the same page. She bounded up to the door, pushing her dad out of the way as she made her way out of the house.

Rhoe cleared his throat. “Aelin, aren’t you going to introduce me?” he asked, and she could see the laughter in his blue eyes as she tried to sneak away.

“Dad, this is Chaol. Chaol, this is my dad.”

Chaol stuck out his hand stiffly, and Rhoe smiled as he took the boy’s hand in his. “Mr. Galathynius. It’s so nice to meet you officially. My name is Chaol Westfall,” he began all too politely. “Thank you for letting me take Aelin out tonight,” he said, and Aelin’s cheeks burned with a furious blush at her dad’s widening smile.

“You are most welcome,” Rhoe replied sarcastically, and Aelin wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She could already tell this date wasn’t going to go well if Chaol thought Rhoe let Aelin do anything.

“Shall we?” Chaol asked, extending his arm to Aelin, and she took it, looking back at her dad as Chaol opened the passenger door to his small sedan.

It was weird to be so, handled? Aelin was so used to being independent that it was strange to have someone opening and closing doors for her. It was not her usual. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. But she knew she needed to just relax and give Chaol a fair shot. At least, that’s what her friends would say.

The drive to school was short, but awkward. Chaol tried to fill the silence with questions about her week, but the pair had seen each other every day that week during class, and it felt like there wasn’t really that much to say.

Luckily, they’d decided to meet up with Lysandra and Wes for the pep rally, and Aelin was grateful that they’d saved them spots beside them. She greeted her friends with hugs, but she paused when she saw Rowan on the other side of Wes. She hadn’t anticipated him being a part of their group tonight. She didn’t know why. It hadn’t even crossed her mind.

“H-hey?” she said. His reply was overwhelmed by a massive wave of cheers as Principal Havilliard lit the bonfire, which came blazing to life in front of them. It immediately warmed Aelin, sending a small shiver down her spine.

“Are you cold?” Chaol asked, his chestnut eyes filled with concern. “I have an extra jacket in my car I can grab for you.”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” Aelin replied. He nodded happily and watched as the pep rally started, but Aelin couldn’t focus at all. Her eyes kept sliding to the side where Rowan’s bright hair peeked out over Wes’s head. It seemed like he was getting even taller every day.

She felt this strange pressure, this weird tension settling around her shoulders, tugging her towards Rowan. She was so focused on him that she startled, surprised, as Chaol slid his hand into hers, linking their fingers.

She looked over, but Chaol wasn’t looking at her at all. He was listening to Principal Havilliard welcome everyone to the rally with a small smile on his lips. Aelin exhaled as she squeezed his hand back. It wasn’t exactly comfortable or natural, but she was giving this a chance.

She felt her heart pound as the cheerleaders ran out in front of the fire, starting their routine. Lyria settled in the front row and Aelin swallowed thickly as she watched her warm brown eyes seek out Rowan in the audience. Aelin refuse to look at Rowan’s face as he watched her. Instead, Aelin focused on the dancing girls in front of her. She watched with a wildly beating pulse as their green and gold uniforms flounced with every move. It was almost indecent.

At the end of the routine, Lyria broke form and skipped into the crowd, making her way straight to Rowan. And Aelin could feel the pressure on her hand increase as Lyria grabbed Rowan by the neck and pulled him in for a large kiss. Too large for public, if Aelin was honest.

Lyria smiled as she pressed her lips against Rowan’s again before making her way back to the group of cheerleaders, who giggled wildly at her. Despite the fire raging in front of her face, Aelin felt completely frozen. She didn’t even process the rest of the rally, ignoring the rest of the cheers and cries, until Chaol tugged at her hand.

“You ready to go?” he asked, and Aelin nodded, still in a bit of a daze.

They were silent again on the ride home, and Aelin could feel her mood souring as they pulled into her driveway. Tonight was supposed to be fun, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Rowan long enough to give Chaol the time of day. She felt awful.

Biting her lip, she decided to do something drastic. Just to get Rowan out of her head.

“So,” Chaol began as he put his car into park, but Aelin ignored him and leaned over the console and kissed him. Her hands went to his hair, tugging the dark hair as tightly as she could to her face.

If Chaol was surprised, he barely showed it, his lips moving beneath hers, responding surely and confidently. His lips were rough and chapped and dry, and their lips seemed to mash against each other uncomfortably, instead of fitting together. The lack of chemistry was so evident, that Aelin wasn’t even offended when Chaol pulled away, wiping his mouth. What a disaster.

“Umm…” Her eyes fell to her lap as she chuckled softly. “Sorry.”

She was trying to figure out a way to let Chaol down easily. It was so clear there was no romantic spark between the two when Chaol started laughing loudly. She looked back up, his brown eyes warm with laughter as he smiled at her. He pushed a strand of her pink hair behind her ear and clasped his hand on her shoulder.

“That was…” He laughed again. “Oh gods.” He looked at her with apologetic eyes, and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. “We’re still friends, right?”

At least they were on the same page. She nodded, laughter bubbling up in her chest, too. She supposed this is why she needed to start dating. To see who she actually connected with. It turned out Chaol was not that person.

“Do you still want to go to the dance together tomorrow?” he asked. “I’m still game,” he said, reassuring her.

“As friends?” Aelin said, and Chaol smiled widely.

“As friends,” he said.

Aelin couldn’t stop laughing as she made her way out of the car, getting her phone out to update the group text on their candidate.

Chaol = DUD. I’ve never had such a bad kiss.

She nearly dropped her phone as Rowan texted back. LOL.

Another text quickly followed. Sorry, don’t mean to laugh. I’m very sorry to hear that.

Aelin practically smacked her face with her hand as she groaned and all caps texted back in a flurry. THAT TEXT WAS FOR LYS, NOT YOU. UGHHHHH.

He didn’t reply again, and so Aelin put her phone away as she got ready for bed. She knew she should text the group chat for real, but she was too keyed up, thinking about Rowan. It’d been so long since his name lit up her phone, she forgot the electric jolt that ran through her spine when it happened.

And though she knew she shouldn’t have been thinking about him, she couldn’t help but run her hand between her legs, imagining what it’d be like to kiss him instead. She had a feeling that Rowan’s lips would be soft, and she wondered if their mouths would fit together perfectly. She didn’t let herself think too hard about how quickly she brought herself to release thinking of him, succumbing to sleep quickly after.

. . .

“Do you want a drink?” Chaol asked, slightly breathless, as the fast song morphed into a too-sexy R&B hit for their dance comfort.

Aelin nodded, tugging at the neckline of her dark green dress. Her dad had surprised her with it, and she couldn’t even begin to express how good she felt in it. It was the perfect length, hitting just above her knee with a soft flounce, and the neckline was tightly fitted slight sweetheart, held up by two thin spaghetti straps. It was perfect. And despite being at the dance with just a friend, she still felt remarkably beautiful. It was a strange but delightful feeling.

After their short drink break, Chaol and Aelin returned to the dance floor. She’d forgotten how much Chaol loved to dance – in that respect, her friends had chosen wisely. She ignored their pointed looks all night, though, content to just have fun with Chaol. Which, strangely, she was. Having fun. In fact, she was having so much fun that she barely even noticed when Rowan and Lyria entered the dance, hand in hand. Instead, she refocused on Chaol, her limbs flailing as she tried to keep up with the boy in front of her.

As the succession of dance songs morphed into a slower beat, Aelin anticipated Chaol taking them off the floor again, but instead, he stepped closer and hovered his hand over her waist, his eyebrow raised in question. They stared at each other for an awkward moment, wondering if this was somehow breaching the friend agreement they’d come to, but Aelin figured slow dancing with a friend was totally fine. In fact, they’d done it before.

She nodded, and he smiled, stepping closer as he slid his hand around her back, pulling her close. They swayed to the music, Chaol leading her around in circles, taking back out his ballroom dance skills and showing them off.

“I forgot what a good dancer you are,” she said, looking up at him with a coy smile. He grinned outright, spinning her under his arm and pulling her back in time with the music, never falling out of step. Aelin’s skirt flared around her knees, and she couldn’t help but tilt her head back and laugh at the sensation. It felt so good to release her worries, just for a little bit.

“My mom will be so pleased to hear that,” he said with a soft chuckle.

Aelin found herself laughing, tripping over her own feet as she tried to keep up with him, causing Chaol to snort.

“You, on the other hand…”

Aelin pretended to be offended, a pronounced frown on her lips, her brow furrowed as she chastised him. “Hey! I am extremely graceful.”

As if on cue, she tripped over her foot again, falling into Chaol’s chest with a soft thump. Both laughing, wide smiles on their faces, Chaol managed to save her fall by spinning it into a low dip.

When the dance came to a close, Aelin looked around to see a small circle of people had formed around them, applauding wildly. Chaol stepped aside and pointed to Aelin, who curtseyed as a soft blush colored her cheeks.

When the circle cleared, Aelin caught a glance of a slumped over figure on the bleachers, sitting alone, dark green eyes marred by a furrowed brow and pronounced scowl on his face. Rowan did always hate a school dance. Her heartbeat picked up as she stared at him, looking dapper in his dark grey suit. How many times had she danced with him at a school dance? It felt so odd to her to see him so far away, annoyed and alone. Her eyes flitted across the floor, looking for Lyria. She was with her usual gaggle of friends, completely unfazed by her lonely boyfriend sitting in the corner.

Aelin warred with herself, wanting to go over and say hello to him, but also knowing that she shouldn’t do that. She was just about to look away when his green eyes lifted and met hers across the room. She waved briefly, hesitant and unsure in her small gesture, but it was met with such a contented grin that she couldn’t bring herself to regret doing it.

She was about to take a step toward him when Lysandra came rushing up to her in a whirl, her arm hooking around Aelin’s and spinning her in the opposite direction.

“Come on, it’s time to head to Lorcan’s,” she said. “This party’s getting stale.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but laughed regardless. She knew what her friend was doing. Keeping her away from Rowan. She couldn’t be trusted, left to her own devices.

Aelin looked over to Chaol, figuring she should extend the invite to him, too. “Do you want to come?” she asked, and she felt her stomach sink slightly as Chaol shook his head.

“No offense, that’s just not really my scene.”

“No offense taken,” she said quickly.

“I can drive you there, though, if you need a ride?” he offered, and Aelin was once again thrown off by how polite he was.

Lysandra smiled and wrapped her arm around Aelin’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Nah, we’ve got her.”

“Thanks, though,” Aelin said sincerely. She was grateful for Chaol’s company. With his distraction, she’d been able to keep her mind off of Rowan in a way she hadn’t before. Maybe her friends were right. She should be less of a cynic and defeatist. She could find someone. It wouldn’t be Rowan, and it definitely wouldn’t be Chaol, but, it’d be someone.

. . .

At Lorcan’s the party was already raging, the rest of them far behind the drunken students who’d left the dance early to go in search of free beer and better music.

“Babesss,” Lorcan slurred, his dark eyes unfocused as he sipped at some gross-smelling green concoction. “You’re finally here!”

He looked at Lysandra with a raised brow. “How’d it go?”

Lysandra sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, she’s here alone, so I guess you were right.”

Lorcan snorted loudly. “Sorry, but I told you. The Goody Two Shoes wasn’t going to cut it.”

Lysandra handed Lorcan a twenty-dollar bill, and Aelin gaped.

“You know, I am standing right here,” she said, completely annoyed that her friends were betting on her love life.

“What?” Lorcan laughed, slinging his arms around the two girls and leading them into the kitchen. He dunked two cups into a trash bag and pulled out neon green liquid.

“What is this?” Aelin asked, sniffing the concoction dubiously.

Lorcan laughed. “You don’t want to know.”

Aelin took a tiny sip and shuddered at the sickly sweet taste of apples and some sour liquor she was sure was potent as anything.

“Just… drink it slow,” Lorcan said with a pointed brow in Aelin’s direction.

“Rude,” Aelin laughed. “I’ve learned!”

“She has,” Lysandra assured Lorcan, who couldn’t resist grinning at the two girls.

“In that case…” He paused dramatically. “Who wants to play beer pong?”

Both girls cheered exuberantly, causing Aelin to smile. If she’d told herself that she’d be part of Lorcan’s inner circle, personally invited to play beer pong with him and his friends, she would not have believed it. Things had really changed since her first Lorcan Salvaterre party.

As they approached the beer pong table, though, she was hit with a wave of déjà vu as the Moonbeam twins welcomed her with matching grins. It was almost an exact replica of the night she had made the decision to kiss Rowan. Only instead of Rowan at her side, now it was Lorcan. Something about that made her feel strange and unsettled. She looked around, as if Rowan would magically appear at her side out of thin air, but he was nowhere to be found among the throngs of drunk upperclassmen.

Fenrys cocked his head at her approach and threw a tanned arm around her shoulders. “Aelin Galathynius, as I live and breathe.”

“Fen,” Connall said in a low, warning tone.

“What? I’m just welcoming a beautiful girl to our table.” Fenrys winked at Aelin, bringing a soft blush to her cheeks under his attentions.

“Babe, are you blushing?” Lorcan laughed, poking at her reddened cheek.

“No!” Aelin said, swatting his hand away. “It’s this disgusting drink,” she said, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes slide back to Fenrys. Despite her insistence that she shouldn’t get involved with someone on the lacrosse team, there was no denying that Fenrys was incredibly attractive. And he had called her beautiful. It felt nice.

Fenry’s winked again as he caught her eye, and she was sure her face was flaming as the rest of the table burst into laughter. He let his arm fall from her shoulder to the small of her back, rubbing it softly as he took his first shot.

“Come on, partner,” he said, nudging her hip with his and sinking his first shot, much to Lorcan’s chagrin. “Sorry Con,” he said, shooting a sly smile at his twin, who simply flicked him off as he skulked away into the party.

As they played, Aelin could feel herself loosening up. Lysandra and Lorcan were predictably a power team, sinking every single shot flawlessly. And with each cup of beer Fenrys drank, he got a little looser himself, his hand grazing her arm, her back, her side, pushing her hair behind her ear with small little teasing motions.

It was different than being touched by Rowan. It didn’t have that same shock to her system, jolting her awake, but it was still electric, just at a much lower voltage.

And even though they’d lost three games to Lorcan and Lysandra, Aelin was feeling on top of the world. The green drink coursing through her system had taken its toll, making her feel light and floaty and warm all over.

“Again?” Lorcan asked, stacking the cups back into a pyramid, but Aelin shook her head.

“Oh,” Fenrys said, his shoulders sagging with disappointment at Aelin’s decision to stop playing. It made her feel invulnerable.

“I was thinking maybe we could do something else instead?” Aelin said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, causing the boy to snap his dark eyes in her direction.

“Yeah?” he asked, stepping closer to her, his body suddenly mere inches away from hers. Aelin leaned over on her toes and whispered in his ear, her voice low and gravelly from alcohol.

“Wanna go upstairs and makeout?” she asked, her heart pounding at how brazen she was being, but there was something about Fenrys’s confident smile and flirty touches that reassured her in her pursuits.

A wicked smile curled across Fenrys’s lips as his eyes gleamed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Aelin grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs as Lysandra and Lorcan whooped and hollered behind them. Aelin ignored them, focusing on the feel of Fen’s hand delicately twined with hers.

At the top of the stairs, Fenrys’s control snapped, and Aelin found herself pushed up against the hallway wall with his mouth on top of hers. His lips tasted like stale beer with just a faint hint of the sticky sweet apple drink, and she found that she didn’t mind it at all. She wrapped her hands in his curly hair as his hands slid across the silky fabric of her dress, palms greedy to touch every cloth-covered inch he could. Warmth spread across each spot he touched, and she leaned into him.

She hummed as his mouth opened, his tongue sliding against hers roughly as her head hit the wall with a loud thump.

“Ow,” she laughed as they stumbled their way down the hall, teeth clinking against each other as they fell against each other again and again. Fenry’s reached out, trying each door they reached, but each and every one was locked.

“Get a room!” a booming voice called behind them.

“We’re trying,” she giggled, breathing heavily as Fenry’s moved his mouth down her neck with sloppy kisses. “Oh…” she moaned as Fenrys’s teeth scraped against the sensitive skin behind her ear. That was different. Good different.

They stumbled to the very end of the hall, Fenrys attacking her lips again as he reached behind her and turned the last door in the hallway. It turned in his grasp, and Aelin couldn’t help but moan appreciatively as Fen pressed his entire body against hers, leading them into the darkened room.

“Uhh, occupied!” a low strained voice came from the darkness, and Aelin froze, feeling like she’d been doused with a bucket of cold water.

“Rowan?” she squeaked out, refusing to look over her shoulder at whatever was going on in the bedroom behind her for fear that it might kill her.

“Aelin?!” he sputtered back, and Aelin could feel her entire body tense at the sound of rustling fabric and people moving around.

“Fenrys,” Fen said, causing Aelin to bark out a loud laugh.

“Lyria,” the girl deadpanned. Aelin’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, removing any of Fen’s attempt at levity.

“Sorry, Whitethorn,” Fenrys apologized, pulling Aelin by the waist, closer to him. “As you were…” he continued, backing up out of the room and into the brightly lit hallway. Aelin blinked several times, but all she could see was images of Rowan and Lyria, tangled in sheets, spurred on by her wildest imagination.

Fenrys leaned in to kiss Aelin again, but she was still frozen, heart pounding loudly against her ribs, so hard that it almost hurt.

He sighed loudly and gave her a reassuring smile as he took a step back. “Mood killed, huh?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, shaking her head, willing herself to hear anything other than Rowan’s breathy tone coming from a darkened room at a party. She hated how upset she felt, how she felt like she was suffocating at the idea of him sleeping with Lyria, if that’s what they were doing. Given the circumstances, it seemed likely. Aelin swallowed back a wave of nausea.

But Fenrys refused her apology, pushing her hair behind her ear as she struggled to catch her breath. “I kind of figured.” He paused, looking at her seriously. “It’s okay,” Fenrys said with too warm a smile for how much of an asshole Aelin felt like. She covered her face, completely horrified.

“I’m gonna…” Aelin ducked under Fenry’s arm and headed toward the stairs, needing some fresh air. Luckily, Fenrys didn’t make a big deal about it at all, meandering downstairs with her and rejoining another game of beer pong as Aelin snuck into the cold night.

She wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders, sinking onto a chair on Lorcan’s front porch. She stared into the distance, willing her nausea to subside as she breathed slowly. So deep in concentration, she barely even heard anyone take the seat next to her until he began speaking.

“So, I guess you got that kiss after all…”

“Rowan…” she whined. “Can we not?” She bit her lip. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”

He frowned, pausing ominously.

“Do you hate me?” he asked quietly.

“What?” Aelin asked, startled by the question. “No, of course not.”

He shrugged, his dress shirt open and rumpled, his tie long gone. “It feels like you do.” He paused.

She wanted to snap at him, unload all her hurt on him, but she paused when she took in his face. She’d never seen him look so tired, so sad. “No, I don’t hate you,” Aelin said, giving him a soft smile and earning a small smile in return.

He exhaled a long, steady breath, and leaned back in the chair, letting the rocking chair sway back and forth as he pondered his next words.

“But you don’t want to be my friend anymore,” Rowan said suddenly. Aelin opened her mouth to protest, but Rowan barreled forward, his tone urgent. “No, you don’t. I’m not that dumb, Ace. You straight up told me. It just… sucks. Because you’re my best friend, but…” He took a deep breath. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“Ro…” Aelin said, her heart tugging, wanting to comfort the boy in front of her, but completely unsure of what to say.

“No,” he repeated. “Please let me finish.” Aelin nodded, biting her lip, forcibly preventing herself from interrupting what he so clearly needed to get out. “I was so excited when I got that text from you last night. I thought, maybe you’d decided you wanted to be friends again, and then to hear it was a mistake…” He laughed sadly. “Gods, I felt like such an idiot. You’ve always been my person.” His words came more rapidly as he got more worked up. “And you decided all of this without me, and I don’t understand. Like, telling me I didn’t need to pick you up from school anymore.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated, but Aelin couldn’t really process what he was saying.

“I just figured you wanted time alone with your girlfriend…”

He practically growled as he sighed. “Why would you assume that without asking me? I only gave her a ride the first morning because she asked if I would. I’ve been driving alone to school for weeks,” he said.

“Really?” Aelin asked, confused.

“And I know I’m going to sound like a complete tool when I say that it hurt my feelings, but… that really hurt my feelings.” Aelin opened her mouth again to say something, but nothing came out. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Rowan be so forthcoming about his feelings. He was more the type of person to hold his feelings in forever.

“I didn’t know,” Aelin whispered.

Rowan scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, you didn’t ask. You just bailed.”

Then it was Aelin’s turn to frown. “It’s not like you tried to reach out!” she snapped, and she could see the hurt turn into anger as Rowan raised his voice again.

“Because you didn’t want me to!” he growled. “And… you seemed… fine.” He laughed sadly. “And I am so not fine.”

Aelin breathed steadily. “You think I’m fine…?” she laughed with no humor.

“Yeah!” he cried, exasperated. “You have all these friends, and I’m the loser with no other friends but you. Lys, Elide, Wes… they only invited me around because of you,” he laughed sadly. “And, I keep waiting for you to reach back out to me – I don’t want to force you to be friends with me when you clearly didn’t want that, but you never do.” He sighed loudly. “And without you, I don’t have anyone.”

Aelin whispered. “I don’t think your girlfriend would agree with that.” She scrunched her nose.

“Don’t tell me this is about Lyria, because you’ve been acting weird long since before she came around,” he huffed, and Aelin threw up her arms, annoyed with the boy in front of her who clearly didn’t understand anything.

“Maybe there’s just an expiration date on boy girl friendships,” she sighed, and she watched as Rowan’s cheeks grew red.

“Stop,” he stuttered. “That’s bullshit.” He breathed. “You put an expiration on it, not me.”

“Really?” she scoffed. “I put an expiration on us? Ro, we don’t talk about anything anymore. I just walked in on you having sex with your girlfriend!” she exploded. “I didn’t even know you were having sex anymore. Because we can’t talk about that stuff! Because it’s weird, okay? You freaked out when I hugged you, for fuck’s sake. Don’t tell me I put an expiration on our friendship because I didn’t.”

Aelin felt her heart pound with every staccato word that exited her mouth. She felt flames on the sides of her face, burning her up as she finally told Rowan how she felt.

“I…” He shook his head. “Lyria got accepted into a college prep program at the OU. If she decides to go, she’ll be gone all of November and December, and we’d be in a long distance relationship,” he said, causing Aelin’s heart to pick up pace again. Lyria was leaving? “That’s what we were talking about upstairs,” he said. “We weren’t, um… doing anything. We haven’t even done anything other than kiss.”

Aelin hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that, and she breathed easily as the knot in her chest unfurled at Rowan’s intense stare. She hated how much better she felt. It stung and soothed her simultaneously.

“A college program?” Aelin asked.

“Yeah,” Rowan ran his hand through his hair.

“Huh,” Aelin replied, unsure of what else to say. Rowan seemed to sense it, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile. “What? She just doesn’t seem that into her studies.”

“I knew you didn’t like her!” Rowan laughed. Aelin wanted to defend herself, but she shrugged instead. She didn’t feel like getting into how the very opposite was actually the truth.

“It’s okay,” he laughed. “I’m not Fenrys’s biggest fan at the moment.”

“Rowan…” Aelin sighed. She didn’t really want to talk about this with him. She hadn’t anticipated him seeing it. She’d wanted time to process it all. But it seemed like he wasn’t going to give her that.

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know you don’t want to be my friend right now.” She watched as he scratched the back of his. “And you can go back to hating me tomorrow, I promise. But, can we just pretend tonight? For a little bit?”

She nodded, unable to deny him her friendship. The truth was, she’d missed it, too.

And so she unleashed. Aelin found herself rambling about the last month of her life, telling Rowan about how she started cooking with Maeve, how much she loved it, and her long walks home. He apologized, not realizing that Aelin had decided to walk instead of find another ride. But Aelin waved him off, instead telling him her favorite recipes and how much she’d learned just from being in the kitchen and being a part of prep. She went on and on about how she ended up becoming friends with Manon, and the weird group of friends that had formed in Rowan’s absence. She even told him about the terrible kiss with Chaol and how she’d decided to kiss someone tonight to make up for it. He laughed heartily at her description of her bad kiss, sighing loudly as he wiped the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes away.

“You deserve a good kiss,” he said, rocking himself back and forth again, the movement starting to hypnotize Aelin as she watched.

“Well, Fenrys delivered,” Aelin said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Gross,” he muttered.

“Rude!”

He laughed as she changed the topic, telling him about her tough classes, and he immediately picked up on it, following suit and talking about his own.

Talking to Rowan was like riding a bike. A really comfortable bike. He laughed in all the right spots, and by the time they were finished catching up on Aelin’s life, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

He offered to drive her home, and Aelin stupidly accepted, both of them singing happily as he played her Game Day Mix that she’d made for him all those months ago. As she looked over at him, she could feel her breath catch.

Gods, she missed him. She missed everything about him. And it hurt all over again.

She was like an addict who had easily relapsed. She couldn’t believe how careless she’d been. She thought she could have him just a tiny bit, but she was too stuck on him still. She’d taken a giant step forward with Chaol and Fenrys and then immediately retreated, letting Rowan back into her heart. Who was she kidding? He’d never left her heart. She’d just gotten better at ignoring that persistent tug, always pulling her to him.

As they turned onto Aelin’s street, they fell into a hushed silence. One that was so strangely comfortable that she almost forgot he was there until he spoke up again.

“I guess we’re done pretending,” he said, rubbing his hands against his knees as he parked in her driveway, and Aelin nodded.

“I just want us to still tell each other the big things, even if you don’t want to do the stuff in between.” He paused. “Like, if you decide to date Fenrys, can you tell me?”

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” she replied softly, and he nodded again. “I don’t hate you,” she said, feeling the need to reassure him.

“Okay,” he said, relieved.

“I promise if I ever hate you, you will not have to wonder,” she sassed, and she laughed as Rowan shoved her shoulder, sparks flying up her arm at the brief moment of contact.

Aelin exited the car with a small wave and took a deep, steadying breath as he drove off into the night. Yes, she had relapsed. But, she’d also kissed two boys in two nights. She clearly just needed to push herself a little further.

She fell asleep that night, wondering who the next boy on her list would be.

~*~

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#rowaelin #high school au #i don't want to wait au #charincharge writes #throne of glass fanfic #tog fanfic

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