#cracking up at the comments being like obviously this was written by a MAN

[mummer]

hi! i shared your post about the taylor Swift phenomenon on Instagram and it's gaining a lot more traction than i thought it would so please let me know if you'd like me to take it down! (ig is dar.kacademia if u don't want to click on the link!)

the instagram swifties are mad at meeeee

no it’s okay hahaha no worries!! none of them have come over to my blog or anything so it’s out of sight out of mind tbh lol. but thank you for asking ❤️

[lcriedlastnight]

Exes to lovers with Oscar: “what can i do? how can i fix this?”

idk how good i am at writing angsty stuff but here’s hoping i do you proud anon, lovely!

tw: fem!reader, not spell checked or proof read (cba bro it’s almost 4am), angsty (idk i tried), swears, lmk if you want to add anything else.

w/c: 2.3k

you hadn’t seen oscar in almost a month. the breakup was not the amicable, it was all oscar’s idea. not to play the name game or anything.

he was the one who ended things a month ago. your lives were just ‘too different’ right now and you were going in ‘different directions’. he was the one who had made sure he left no trace of himself in your apartment. he was the one you cried about when it got late and you felt lonely. most importantly, he was the one who acted like nothing had even happened.

people were commenting on your instagram posts and stories constantly asking where oscar was. it felt like getting kicked while you were already down. you stopped posting altogether after that.

it took you this whole month even be able to live your life again, before you were just existing. lando was the one to pull you up by your bootstraps and help you get your life back on track.

“i hate seeing you like this!” the brunette had begged you, a few weeks before, to go out clubbing with him and george.

“it’s just not my scene, lan. you know that. i’d rather just lay in bed all day and listen to the saddest songs on the tortured poets department.” you told him from somewhere between your messy bedsheets.

lando sighed and sat on the side of your bed. “c’mon! laying here crying about it will do nothing.” you knew he was right but it would do too much to his ego if you told him so, plus you also wanted to rot in this hurt for a little while longer.

“maybe next time.” you had offered. both of you knew you were lying.

the time came when lando finally made you face your problems head on, when he made you join him the monaco grand prix. with promises of not having to stay in a hotel and his company (you didn’t know if either of those things was something you wanted right now) the whole weekend, you eventually agreed. whether you agree just to shut him up or because you knew you would run into oscar… well it was a tie.

you lay tossing and turning in the guest room of lando’s, you couldn’t sleep for thinking about the man who has haunted your dreams for the past month and graced them for a year and a half before that. you decided to give up on getting sleep for now, turning onto your side you plan in your mind how you wanted the next day to play out. you were unsure if you should go for making him jealous of making him feel bad for you, eye bags and depression written all over your face or dolled up to the nines. in the end you decided on making him jealous. what good would looking gross at one of the most high profile races of the year - in front of your ex, no less - do you? you eventually fall asleep planning your outfits in your head.

the next morning you woke up with plenty of time to get ready, giving yourself plenty of time to get ready. lando, being your best friend, had the privilege of getting up at the arse crack of dawn, just as the light started to shine through his curtains, to ‘get ready with you’ as you had put it. he would put it as ‘you getting ready and him watching until you were almost done, then getting ready himself’. same thing basically.

“put that one taylor swift song on i know.” lando asks from his bed as you sit in front of his floor length mirror. you make eye contact from the floor.

“which one is that? she has like a million?” you question, you obviously being in charge of the music. lando groans as he turns onto his front, his groan becoming muffled by the bedsheets. you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“i’m just gonna put folklore on then.” you tell him, picking up your phone from beside you where it was currently charging. lando near enough leaps from the bed at your words.

“no! that album is depressing! that’s not today’s vibe!” his hands reaching for your phone.

“what is the vibe for today then?” you ask, going back to blending out your light eyeshadow.

you can sense what lando is going to say before it even comes out of his mouth. “reputation.”

the start of ‘this is why we can’t have nice things’ plays through the speakers your phone is connected to in his room. you really try to hold off from telling him that reputation has more love songs on it than he thinks but you can’t help yourself. lando is surprised at the news and asks what album has the most repuatuation vibes.

you sigh. “i made a playlist. just play that.”

once you had finished your makeup, lando starts to get ready as you fish out the outfit you had planned out in your head last night out of your bag. you knew it had to be good, seeing as this was the first time in a month that oscar will see you.

a month wasn’t really that long, you both had been apart longer when you couldn’t make it to races and he had shit to do in training, but this separation was different. it was permanent and because of that it felt like years since you had seen oscar. double that, the last time you spoke to him.

“y’ready then?” lando asks, grabbing his car keys. you follow behind, your sundress swaying with the movements of your legs as you grab your clutch bag, filled with random items you knew you probably were never going to touch for the rest of the day. you nod, slipping on your heels and head to the car, right behind lando.

arriving at the paddock didn’t feel as weird as you thought it would. the flashes from the cameras almost blind you both as you walk in together. most reporters asking if you had cheated on oscar with the tanned brit.

as usual you ignore them and strut harbouring a false sense of confidence as you walk side by side with lando.

you stick to lando’s side of the garage during qualifying. some of oscar’s engineers notice you and give you a wave, not wanting to be rude you wave back. you watch q3 nervously, a part of you- way deep in the back of your brain - wishes for oscar to well and it’s looking like he could even get pole for the first ever time in a proper f1 race. his qualifying last grand prix weekend had really impressed you (not that you were watching him or anything. you were only watching to support lando) but had also made you think that oscar had made the right decision with your breakup.

as you watch on during the final few minutes of q3 you feel a camera pan on your face from the corner of you eye. you pretend not to notice, scared incase on the screen it still calls you oscar’s partner. not that you would know, but if you forget about the camera then you’ll most likely forget about it all as a whole.

lando qualifies fourth. oscar second. a great weekend for mclaren. a podium basically already in the bag for the, usually, papaya team. as both cars make their way back to the garage, you stand off to the side, waiting on lando.

the boy in the fluorescent helmet jumps out of the car and almost sprints to the opposite end of the garage, to oscar’s side, eager to congratulate him. you watch as the boy takes off his helmet and balaclava to wrap the australian up in a friendly hug. the latter not even getting the chance to take his own helmet or balaclava off before the arms of his friend wrap around him.

you just watch from afar, wanting so badly to be the one feeding oscar words of praise and excitement about the race tomorrow. you see them both converse as you try to act like your not staring, suddenly remembering the cameras lingering around. lando finally peels himself away and makes his way back to you. oscar’s eyes follow him to you. you don’t know if he’s surprised to see you or not. not like you even care anyways.

“well done lan!” you cheer, maybe a bit too loud than normal. your arms wrapping around his fireproofs in a tight hug, copying his own actions to his teammate minutes before. you hoped oscar was watching on.

“thanks bro!” lando laughs in your ear, happily as his results were improving every race. you also laugh at his choice of words.

“bro?” you ask through a giggle. the giggle drawing the attention of oscar again, who had tried to forget about your presence but felt like he was getting harshly reminded of the grave mistake he had made.

“you’re my bro” is all the explanation he gives. it’s not like he’s lying to be fair, you were his bro. he lets go of his hold on you then talks about his plans for tomorrow night.

“is it not a bit too early to be thinking about tomorrow after the race already?” you ask him, as if you’re not used to this at the end of every saturday.

“i should be at the club” he shrugs as he drags you to his race room. directly next to oscar’s. you know this hallway like the back of your hand.

you hear oscar’s footsteps behind you and lando as he tells you every thought he had during the flying laps. you trying so hard to listen but all you can think about it how much you want to turn around to oscar and bag him to take you back. but you’re not doing that. that would, well that would just be a new low for you.

“i just knew osc would be quick, didn’t think he would be quicker than me. he’ll probably be on the podium tomorrow.” lando comments, offhandedly. both your’s and oscar’s ears prick up at the mention of oscar’s name.

oscar strains his ears as you stop just in front of lando’s door. he tries to keep a safe distance, not wanting to alert you both of him.

“yeah?” is all you say. lando snorts.

“you could at least act like you care.” lando says as he opens the door to let you both in. that’s when you both hear the heavy, quick footsteps of oscar rushing to you before you enter lando’s driver room.

“hey-uh can i talk to you?” oscar directs to you, eyes not even trying to shift in lando’s direction. you hesitate. why was he acting like he hasn’t just broken up with you.

“please?” oscar practically begs. lando gives you an encouraging nudge before disappearing into his room, leaving you no choice but to stand in the hallway with oscar.

it’s quiet before you speak up, words a little uneasy and shaky. “what could you possibly have to say to me?” you question him.

“please don’t be like this. i can’t do it.” oscar’s voice is weak and almost pathetic. you scoff at his words.

“you’re being serious? where was this when you broke up with me?” you seethe, feeling your anger build. oscar looks hurt but you see a glint of something you can’t decipher in his eye and it makes you miss him even more, you can’t stand this.

“what can i do? how can i fix this? fix us?” oscar looks down at you with wide eyes. you swear they look glassy, like if he blinks too hard tears he’s so clearly fighting will slide down his cheeks.

“fix us?” you ask, confused. “you want to fix this?”.

oscar nods eagerly, gathering your hands in his and pressing them against his chest. “i can’t bare this without you. i’m so stupid for thinking that breaking up was the right thing to do. i miss you in everything i do. all i could think about out there was if you were still mines how i could go celebrate this with you. i don’t know if i remember how to live without you, baby.”

you only stare at him. your face betraying you by showing oscar every little feeling that flashes through your mind.

“it’s been like this since miami. you should’ve been there. i’m sorry. i’ve ruined this for you. and i know this is me being selfish but i need you to come back to me.” the grip oscar has on your hands get a little tighter as he begs you to forgive him.

you feel your bottom lip wobble a little before you pull your lips in a tight line to pull yourself together. “i miss you too. but you hurt me.” you say, cautious and wary.

oscar makes this pained noise like he’s been winded as your words hit him. “i know and i’m so fucking sorry. what can i do to make it up to you? i’ll do anything i swear.” oscar was clearly not above begging for you to his again.

you think for a second, eyes avoiding his and instead looking down at the floor. seeing as oscar can read you like a book he knows what’s coming next. you’re gonna reject him in a way he knows only you could and cry too, because you will feel bad, you’ll feel bad for the monster who broke your heart. how could he even think he would have a chance at getting you back?

you surprise him by speaking up softly. “maybe a trial date?” you suggest. oscar’s head nearly falls off from how quickly he nods. never agreeing to something so quickly before in his life. he’s going to make this the best date you’ve ever been on in your life.

[knnichs]

WHAT A STAND UP GUY!

— neuvillette’s ideal way of “making up” to you is going to a corn maze. you’re deathly afraid of mazes. (and spooky things in general.)

c. neuvillette

t. gn!reader, modern setting, horror elements (jumpscares, suspense), mentions of blood, its just a corn maze (he says), wc: balls IM KIDDING… 2.3k

m. @mikashisus @mitsvriii @lowkeyren @https-sourlimes @akutasoda @tragedy-of-commons @/stellaronhvnters

happy stellaween folks, i chose the prompt CORN-MAZE!!! (creator comments at the end)

“I didn’t take you to be a horror fan, Neuvillette.”

There's barely any light in the room at all—save for the eerily placed candles and lanterns—it’s dark, it’s stuffy, and uncomfortably cramped for a lobby. For a corn maze, you’d expect an open area for the registration. Apparently, this one was a little more extra with the planning and design to the point where they made sure there was absolutely no way you could see the maze, which adds to the surprise and spooky factor, you suppose.

“You learn something new everyday,” your partner, the main cause of the ‘death due to corn maze fright’ incident of Stellaween ‘24, looked at you with curiosity.

“Frightened already? We haven't even entered the maze itself yet.”

“I am not frightened,” You said, clenching your jaw. “and—this place… Er, whatever the hell this lobby is supposed to be, is dark and cramped. That's two things you should never mix.”

“Sure. Everything you say must be true, no?” He laughed before moving forward to the glass box. 

Even the registration itself was on theme. The glass had several minor cracks, there was one that went all the way from the right side to the end of the left. Fake cobwebs everywhere, an obviously cheap jack-o-lantern with an electric candle inside of it is placed on the middle of the desk, a huge sign on top of the little box that has ‘SIGN UP (don't let it chase you)’ written in a dark red with exactly three handprints on random areas.

The design is cheap, cliche, and too common. It’s something you’d find everywhere—but the sounds playing through the hidden speakers and fog is what enhances the ‘spookiness’ everything has. How nice, even the staff dressed up for the occasion. The employee on the left had face paint similar to a  skeleton, and the other was a… Bloody nurse?

You get the tickets, (un)fortunately. The cashier pointed out a rule they had for the maze and that was no other than a ‘strictly no refunds’ policy. 

Great. This day has truly been going the way you originally wanted it to.

Two days ago, you texted Neuvillette saying you wanted to go to the theater. There was a specific musical that was showing for a halloween special, you had been interested in watching it for a while now. Of course, Neuvillette being a busy man, you had to first ask if he could go so you wouldn't risk wasting money on an extra ticket. Sadly, he took way too long to reply. He had seen-zoned you for days before finally saying yes, this morning. You didn’t secure the tickets to the show, and it was a limited time thing. You’re not that bummed out about it anyway, he shortly apologized to you in person and said he would make it up to you.

That’s exactly what led you to this situation right now. With a heart rate going up to 98 as you slowly make your way to the entrance of the corn maze. With how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself—you never liked corn mazes. One thing that made you dislike it was a movie showing two characters, a boy and a guy, running around before the boy eventually disappears. The whole point of the movie was showing how fast time flies. Although it wasn't exactly a horror show, it certainly made you fearful that you, too, would disappear if you entered a corn maze.

Many thoughts scatter in your head as the ushers bring you to the gates. The only thing separating you (and Neuvillette) from a self-proclaimed ‘scariest corn maze’ was two hollow pieces of wood with, you guessed it, fake blood all over it.

“Is this your idea of salvaging a relationship with me?” You muttered, genuinely questioning the man beside you. He just nodded—saying ‘It’s really not that bad if you think about it.’ and going on a short-lived rant on how everything is fake.

“Please ensure all your belongings are safely kept in your bags, we are not liable for any damage or lost property.” One of the ushers reminded the two of you, “Once you’re ready, just look towards the camera over there and shout; ‘Stellaween’.”

“What will it be used for?” You wondered, looking at the direction they pointed at.

“Ah, well you signed a waiver that you were allowing the two of you to be recorded, did you not?” 

Right, you completely forgot about that. There were cameras that were going to record the ‘jumpscare’ moments. Did you agree to it? You had zoned out during the registration, you don’t remember a single thing. But of course, Neuvillette nodded, saying that you did.

Some god must’ve cursed you with bad luck today.

Not only will you enter, possibly, one of the most nerve-wrecking places you’ve ever been to, you’ll be recorded while doing so. Each reaction, each scream—and if you do die from fright, it will be because of some cliche, overboard, corn maze.  Will that be on your mural? 

“Come on,” Neuvillette whispers, egging you on. He puts your hand in his, squeezing you a little to give you some motivation. Of course, he would be with you every step of the way. “I’ll keep you safe, my dear.” 

You look at him—you would trust this man with your entire life, you think.

“Would you like one of these?” The staff shows you a long, orange bandana. “You can wrap it around your wrists, a lot of recent explorers have done this method to ease some of their worries. It’s safe in there, no need to be scared.”

Neuvillette takes the bandana and thanks the worker. He works fast, tying the piece of cloth between the two of you with ease and skill. 

“Let’s go?” He asks, brushing some hair behind your ear and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead to give some encouragement.

To his surprise, you quickly nod your head after three deep breaths.

Similar to the lobby, the maze itself is also dark. And cramped. With tall cornstalk, it's hard to see anything beyond the area you’re in now. It’ll be difficult to cheat your way through this. Neuvillette is still holding your hand as you two take a few turns, you had honestly thought he would let go by now—then you realize you were the one squeezing his hand so hard, as if he would run away from you the second you’d let go.

There are a few lanterns scattered throughout, and some candies to lead the way. You don't dare pick one up though, you wonder how long it's been there or how many people have already stepped on it. Suddenly, a groan can be heard from… Somewhere, in the maze.

“Neuvi, you don’t suppose there are actors in the maze, do you?” You ask, worrying about any possible ‘jumpscares’, as the staff had mentioned before you entered.

“It wasn’t listed in their advertisement post…” He hummed, bringing a hand to his chin as if trying to remember the details. “…No. No—I don’t think there was ever something stating there were any actors, nor anything saying that there wasn’t.”

Shit. 

A distant humming, followed by a groan, and a click.

You grab Neuvillettes arm, basically hugging it like a koala would. Looking around, you try to see if there was anything at all—any indications that someone was coming.

Click.

“My dear, I’m with you.” He brings his free hand to rub it soothingly against yours. Warm and comforting. You relax a little, that is until you notice the clicking noise was getting much, much louder. “There’s no need to worry. They aren’t real.”

It didn’t take too long for you to realize that—yes, there are actors in the maze. Yes, there are a bunch of them. All dressed up in different costumes; one a vampire, a ghost, another a werewolf, and a zombie. All have some sort of red in their outfits, smudged fake blood (or is it paint?) across their shirts and faces. It’s so overdone, but seeing it in person makes it absolutely horrifying.

There are about four of them, two are chasing Neuvillette, and the other two are chasing you. You bolted as soon as you noticed them, and the bandana tying you and Neuvillette together had loosened—leaving you with no companion in a dark, cramped, absolutely horrible corn-maze. This had to be your no-good, very-bad day.

Silence fills the air. You managed to mislead the actors to a different part of the maze, and you hid underneath a desk prop, for god's sake. You take your phone out from your bag, trying to contact Neuvillette, except you see the empty bars on the top screen. No signal.

Recounting your series of unfortunate events today:

You didn’t get to watch that halloween-special-limited time show.

Neuvillette’s idea of ‘making it up to you’ is by going to a corn maze.

Tickets are non-refundable, so you’re basically forced to go.

There are actors in the maze. They can run.

You just lost your only companion—and there's no signal.

You can't believe you have to put an ‘and’ in your imaginary list. By the looks of things, you might even expect something else happening right this moment, maybe a few minutes from now, once you crawl out under the desk.

You turn off your phone and turn it back on again, hoping the signal thing was a joke your eyes played on you (it wasn’t.) There’s nothing you can really do right now except think about what exactly pushed you to be confident and fearless before entering the corn maze.

Neuvillette just had to be your partner—he just had to have the most obscure ideas of apologizing. A corn maze, out of everything he could’ve chosen to do to celebrate the spirit of halloween! It wasn’t having a nice, peaceful picnic. Nor was it just carving out ridiculous faces into pumpkins, or watching a simple scary movie—No, it just had to be a corn maze! A first hand experience on becoming the main character in a horror film where they have to escape the crazy murderer with an equally crazy looking hatchet!

God, you needed to take a deep breath to calm your mind. Whatever’s going through your head is making you sound like you were going insane. 

“—Come on, I’m right here.” A voice says in the distance. Now that you think about it, it sounds somewhat familiar. 

There's a flash of the familiar white, long hair you’ve grown accustomed to. Did the actors chase down Neuvillette, steal his outfit, and his hair? You truly hope that wasn’t the case, that they weren't pretending to be that one person you find comfort in. Well, in this case, the only thing you find comfort in right now. 

Either way, this is a do or die situation (not really, you just like exaggerating things.) If you don’t come out of the desk, you doubt that Neuvillette would spot you, even if it's an actor or not. You can always tell them to break out of their role and take you out of the maze safely. So, slowly, you stand up from your hiding spot—risking yourself to be exposed to any actors who may be waiting to ambush you. You close your eyes shut and just pray that Neuvillette will spot you.

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The voice says, gradually coming closer. Warm arms envelop you in a tight hug, hands rubbing soothingly on your back. Immediate peace and comfort in a moment of fear—truthfully, you would only get this feeling from one specific person in your life. You return the hug, allowing your rapidly beating heart to calm down now that you’re safe.

“Are you okay?” You nod to the question, allowing yourself to just breathe in this moment.

“We can stay like this for as long as you want to, my sweet.”

It takes a bit before you clear your mind. 

“That maze was nothing,” you brag—quite confidently too. The two of you had just finished taking a photo in the booth, and are just waiting for the photostrip to get printed. “It was so easy after all. The only thing that made it the least bit scary was the actors.”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t just sob the entire way to the exit whining: ‘Neuvi, I was soo scared. I almost died!’” He crossed his arms, imitating your voice with an overexaggerated high-pitched tone.

You huff, “Whatever! I got chased out by a werewolf and a vampire. That's a deadly combo, I say. Plus, they had like—fake blood all over them, you’d actually think they murdered someone!” 

“Sure, I’m sure it was just as frightening as you make it out to be.” Neuvillette had the nerve to laugh at your fears.

Your photo drops from the printer, but you don’t ever recall doing two. As you pick them both up, the first photo was the one you had taken in the booth not too long ago, and as for the second… It was the one where you and Neuvillette realized you were being chased. A QR code on the side saying: ‘VIEW YOUR VIDEO HERE!’

“Yes yes, I can already read your mind. I won’t send it to anyone, don’t worry.” Neuvillette laughed—once more—at the fear in your face. 

You don’t have to think about him showing it to others, I mean, he wouldn’t do that. You only need to think about the sheer amount of teasing you will get from this man for an entire week. And next year, when it’s halloween season once more, you doubt that Neuvillette will ever let you forget what exactly happened in this—the (self proclaimed) scariest corn maze of 2024.

creators comments. i know i said id be on break but the network said ‘writing event’ and i rushed to gdocs as soon as i could 😁🫶 requests are still closed however ,,,!!!!! ANYWAY heres a silly little thing ,, neuvillette has been PLAGUING my mind ever since i finished the fontaine quest <3 SO! i actually asked the srvr for their insights on who this should be about (i was torn between tighnari, neuvi, and thoma if i can recall that properly) and most of them said neuvi,, so here we are☺️ i forgot how to write and THATS IT!

[eclairsnme]

♡ POV: Being The Itoshi Brother’s Elder Sister ♡

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4

More trouble and very dilf (prick) boss and yandere kaiser!!

tags: idol!you, crack comedy, reunion, familial love, sfw, somewhat of a brat (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎), lack of common sense, dilf boss, kaiser is giving me psycho killer mannn (✦థ ｪ థ), red flags!!

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

A few years ago,

You picked up the phone and read a message.

It’s a punishing journey here.

It was from Sae, your younger brother.

After reading the message, you flipped the phone to your manager.

You could not be bothered to reply to him as... well, you are in a middle of a scandal.

A rival company is trying to sue you for plagiarising their music.

I mean like ew? (¬､¬)

You debuted in the music industry one year ago and had already gathered a massive fanbase and caused a wave in the industry.

Many were hailing you as the pop star of the century. Recognised not only domestically but also worldwide.

The songs were written by you and with the collaboration of acclaimed song producers.

When all of your songs dominated the Billboard chart, you solidified your status as the youngest and most celebrated star of this era.

You know what they always say, behind every success has its own trials and tribulations, and yeah you were now experiencing that exact phenomenon — a scandalous scandal, a bad suing kind.

The rival company had been trying to produce their very own pop star using you as the manual, however, it was to no avail. Obviously.

You snorted at that. No one could compete with you, naturally.

Therefore, they had to resort to underhand tactics. Such as, wrongly accusing you of plagiarism without any ounce of evidence and trying to sue you to boot?

Huh! The audacity.

More absurdly, he annouced all that mumbo jumbo on the stupid bird app! That hellhole of an app.

It goes without saying that the news spread quickly like lighting speed! Both fans and haters became aware of it and rumors and negative comments began to circulate rapidly. They really popped off there.

What else popped off? Keyboard warriors. They came and showed the heck up. They have never typed their opinions so quickly.

Before you could defend yourself from such an outlandish claim, they had already painted you a bad reputation. You cracked a displeased smile.

It appears that your followers and supporters have left you abruptly and without any hesitation.

And they call themselves loyal fans. You pouted. People’s minds sure do sway rather quickly. That bandwagon sure has lots of passengers.

Today, a crowd gathered outside your studio to protest against what they perceive as your "sinister" conduct.

How very rude!

Prior to your debut, you had anticipated that your first scandal would involve a dating rumour with a super hot man. However, the current scandal being circulated is merely a laughable joke and not the kind you had expected.

The music you made was definitely yours last you checked. It was unquestionably from this absolutely talented brain of yours.

“Pest,” you grumbled.

Oh and what a pest he definitely is. Actually, he was more disgusting than those creepy crawlies. He had a greasy face, greasy hair and an incredibly bad breath.

You shivered. Yucky.

“That bastard!” The boss of your company slammed the table.

Your boss was a tall and well-dressed individual in his mid twenties. He was an efficient and smart, young man that had personally scouted you and propelled your career (well, that is a little too much credit to him but yeh yeh).

This company had a few B-listers if you squint... hard enough. You were his first pop star and damn, you exceeded all his expectations. Not to toot your own horn, but yes you are quite literally The Best.

After learning of the absurdity, he was absolutely furious. He was frothing in the mouth like how baristas froth them age-old milk. You found it quite funny to see his handsome face contort to such comedy.

You hid your giggle behind your hand.

He stopped and knelt down in front of you, "I understand that this situation is difficult for you right now, but I assure you that we will find a solution and overcome this obstacle together."

Even the dumbest person would know that refuting the so-called "claims" was a simple task. However, the bigger issue at hand is the individuals who have already turned their backs on you. Unfortunately, you are currently considered the most disliked public figure.

Can you believe that? Me!

To that, you grunted and took a heavy whiff of the musky meeting room.

Gain back their support?

You suddenly stood up, causing your boss to fall back onto his buttocks.

An idea crossed your little noggin. Your idea is truly exceptional, with a level of creativity that is almost unparalleled. Some people might even dare ask, "From that brain of yours?"

A true visionary of the century you would say. You snickered to your own delight.

“What’s going on?” Your boss asked in confusion.

“I know just the way to make him eat his shit!” You bellowed, lightly brushing the nonexistent dust from your Miu Miu garb.

Oh yes, eat shit he will. Bet, his shit would be the best-tasting shit he will ever consume.

-

Present day

You, the top idol, stood in front of the screen fake crying your heart out for your dear little brother.

“Do you not love me anymore?!” You dramatically placed your hand over your face, wiping away the fake tears.

Rin covered his ears at that infamous phrase coming from you.

As the situation “escalates”, even Rin’s teammates started to catch on to your act. As in, they actually fell for your poorly executed acting.

“Oi, Rin your sister is calling for you! You bastard of a little brother making her cry,” his teammates and Karasu collectively shouted at him, accusingly.

This was too much for Rin to handle, the embarrassment was too excruciating. He was so close to believing that you were not his sister. Heck, did you hear his internal thoughts? Because he could vaguely hear you crying louder. He shuddered.

To Rin, this was the equivalent of having his mom unexpectedly appear in the classroom and announcing every speck of mole on his body to everyone. Yet again, he shuddered.

You, on the other hand, were just about to tease him more when Mr Manager tapped on your shoulder.

“Your next schedule is in an hour, you need to get ready.”

Ah, talk about getting blue balled. You frowned. You were just about to have fun with Rin.

"Schedule? I thought I was done for today?" You gave him a look of disapproval, with your lips tightly pressed together.

"I-it's the meeting with the boss!" He spread his arms wide in disbelief, brows downturned and mouth gaping like a goldfish.

"That person would not mind," you turned away from the screen and shrugged your shoulders, "no big deal missing one or two meetings."

"You mean, multiple (all) meetings?"

Wow, talk about being unnecessarily observant. You rolled your eyes. If your eyes could roll to the back of your skull that will be great.

So, your boss has this thing where you have to meet him and then goes on to lecture you on your bad public image blah blah blah. A broken record. That is what he is. He needs to learn how to shut up.

"Please you need to attend the meeting or else," your manager took a deep breath, "he will be really angry at me. Since he also specifically mentioned the severity of your behaviour this time around."

"Andddd?" You nonchalantly glance over, not sure why you should care.

Your boss sure is a pain in the buttocks. You can handle yourself well without him. What about the severity of your behaviour this time around? This was not your first rodeo.

"Wait!" You yanked the collar of his shirt, "What do you mean by the severity of my behaviour this time around."

He miserably clutch onto his shirt to ensure he would not die to accidental asphyxiation.

"T-he paps!" He released himself from your grip and whispered into your ears, "They took a photo of you smooching a man! Boss was super - and I mean super duperrr - angry! Since this morning, he has been attempting to hide the entire situation from the public."

Smooch? The only thing you smooched was...

Oh!

Oh?

OH!

Ohhh?

OH!

So, someone did catch you getting first base with that German guy.

"Smooch?" Anri gasped, a little too loudly. Actually, loud enough for the entire Blue Lock facility to hear.

Smooch? The Blue Lock players repeated after Anri.

Anri clasped her mouth shut.

Erm oops. (Ŏ艸Ŏ)

Turns out, the screen was still on for everyone to witness.

"End of today's entertainment — hope everyone feels motivated by the special appearance of the wonderful idol," with a click of a button, Ego had the screen turned off to the disgruntlement of the players behind the screen and to the joy of Rin.

"W-we have to go!" Panic filled Mr Manager's voice as he tried to drag you out of the room.

"But my Rin!"

"You are welcome here anytime," Ego interjected.

"Really?" Your teal eyes lid up.

"Reward for work and work for reward. It is widely acknowledged that when individuals receive recognition for their diligent efforts, they tend to exhibit improved performance and exhibit a more optimistic outlook. As a result, it is imperative to provide incentives that are based on performance. By the way, I must take a moment to express my genuine gratitude for your presence here today, Miss."

You blinked at his response, "I don't know what you just said, but I will be back for my little brother, Go-go!"

Ego briefly reflects on his nickname and then lets a faint smile appear on his face, "Hope to see you very soon too."

"Ah, the boss is already calling me! We have to go!"

"Bye-bye, big melon woman!" You did not forget your manners, as you made your way out.

Anri shyly waved back at you.

Damn, I really want big boobs.

-

His sharp eyes met yours.

You gulped.

You felt like a deer caught in the headlight. It was just a smooch — a very normal German etiquette. No biggie. Right?

Your boss held a photograph of what you believe is the source of this man's frustration.

You took the photograph out of his hands, "I spy with my little eyes a man and an exceptionally drop-dead knockout woman engaged in - you know what? This is actually a really good photo! We could hang it-"

"For goodness sake!"

"-on the wall."

He ruffled his neatly tousled coif into a slightly messy one.

"It is just an old friend," You fidgeted with the ends of your dress.

"Friends do not eat out each other's face!" He exasperated, loosening his tie.

"I-"

"I don't think you get it. This photo shows very clearly, the nation's biggest star and the German prodigy footballer exchanging salivas! This is big big news! And it will be a scandal if people catch wind that you are going around smooching high profile people! What would people think of you? We have been through so many ups and downs together but this is your first relationship scandal. I can already imagine the looks of your fans-"

"Aren't you being a tad bit dramatic? Isn't it normal for a pretty girl like me to have relationships?"

"You are an idol!" He shouted, a little too loud that you flinched, "And what is this thing that your Manager told me? Regarding your desire for a boyfriend, please keep in mind that as an idol, you have a certain image to uphold."

You stood up and slammed the table, a little too hard — you felt your palm throb underneath. You took angry steps towards him and placed your still throbbing palm on his face ever so not gently.

He stared into your teal eyes and you saw the big gulp he took.

Taking another step closer till your head was right beneath his chin, you stared up at him and squeezed his cheeks with all your might. He groaned and grabbed your wrist.

"What is that for!" He softly clasped onto his tender, reddened cheeks. You harrumphed back at him.

"HA! Idol this idol that." You snorted, "what if he is actually my boyfriend? Have you thought of that? Plus, my fans are mature enough to understand. We've practically grown up together. Don't be delusional, old pal!"

Ah, I am really digging my grave.

"You know very well-" You eyed him sharply, his mouth clammed shut.

"Kaiser and I are super in love and so what if some paps caught us? Is it really possible for someone like me, a young and attractive woman, to remain celibate forever? I am certainly not a nun." You let your mouth run, nervously.

Wow, my grave has been dug real deeeep, very spacious if I say so myself.

To be honest, you were not even too sure what you were even saying. Your boss was being such a prick. Prickly prick. Ugh.

"When did you even meet that guy with your full schedule?" He asked, hands still on your wrist.

"Our love needs no words. Whence our eye meets, we are in love," You physically cringed at your words. Seeing the goosebumps rising from your boss's arms, you were not the only one who thought so it seems.

Great. Just great.

"Let us set this straight. So you are telling me that you are in a relationship with that football player?"

"Why do you act so surprised? C'mon, I have two fine brothers who are also football players. What can I say? I just love a man who can treat the ball right. It is all bound to be. Therefore this is no scandalous scandal you should be worried about."

He releases your hands and stuffs his hands inside the pocket of his suit, reaching for the cigarette pack. He let out a deep breath and then proceeded to light a cigarette. With a shaky breath, he exhaled the thick smoke, his head throbbing from pent-up exhaustion and frustration.

You almost felt sorry for him, almost.

"Sooner or later, the news will explode. I will have a statement prepared for the media. Get ready."

Oh jolly, will you look? My grave is the size of an Olympic pool! How spacious. Sorry, big man.

Your boss was a good man that cared for you. But sometimes it gets overbearing. Very red flag. Do you think maybe that's why he's still single? I mean, he's got a lot going for him - eligible bachelor, CEO, and let's be real, he's pretty good-looking. But there's gotta be a reason, right?

Ladies, if you need a man you can call me.

ヾ(о-ω･)ﾉ⌒★

-

Kaiser smiled to himself.

The brightness of his phone deepened his smile into one of a Cheshire cat.

On his phone was a picture of you helplessly holding onto him as he savoured your lips.

"Aren't we cute together?" He said to no one in particular as he caresses the rose tattoo on his neck.

Oh, how the world so nicely revolves around him that fate has brought you back to him.

It would be wonderful if you could be in his embrace at this moment.

He puts down the phone and closed his eyes.

Be patient. Mein göttin.

-

"You should go back to sleep," Sae's soothing voice nearly put you to sleep as you struggled to stay awake.

You heard rustlings on the other end of the call, pretty sure he was in the middle of his training.

Oops.

"I made a fool out of myself today!" You lamented, snuggling deeper into your silky covers.

"Aren't you always a fool? What did you do this time? Lo siento. Estoy hablando con mi hermana-" You could hear another feint voice conversating with him. Must be his teammates. You yawned.

"- I am sure it is nothing too serious as always. You are tired, go sleep," Sae returned to the conversation.

"It is really really bad..." you spoke softly, rubbing your face onto the silk.

"Did you kill someone?"

"My boss looked like he almost died but no," You stretched your aching body, "I think I just got myself a boyfriend, more like I just told my boss a big lie that is about to be publicised...That guy is not even my boyfriend and when he hears of this garbage - oh boy is he definitely going to have a heart attack. I am in big trouble."

"You dug your own grave," Sae said, cooly.

"I know right, the grave is swimming pool sized."

"Who is the unlucky guy?"

"Kaiser Mikel?" You attempted to recall his surname.

Sae paused for a second before he replied, "Michael. Michael Kaiser?"

"Oh, you know him?"

"I do. He is a... good player. Sister, how did you even get involve with him?" This time, Sae sounded genuinely curious very unlike his usual disinterested self.

"You see," you hugged your bolster tightly, "some bugger quote on quote took a photo of us exchanging salivas."

"Excuse me?" Sae choked, "Exchanging salivas? Mierda-" You could imagine your brother's incredulous yet icked face right now. Well, he wanted to know and you delivered. ｢(◔ω◔「)三

"You heard me right."

"I wish I did not just hear that. But Kaiser and you?" Sae did not fail to exaggerate the last part almost in a manner you did not enjoy.

"Why did that sound like you are mocking me?" You grumbled underneath your soft duvet.

"I don't think that guy will mind being your boyfriend if that helps," Sae shook his head thinking about the German prodigy.

"Really?" you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with sleepy excitement.

“Yeah. He- Dame un momento. I have to go now. I'll send you a text message. Go to sleep now," he paused briefly, "and have a good night."

There the phone line goes. Silence.

As if Sae had actually cast a sleeping spell on you, your head sank back onto the plush pillow and you succumb to silky sheets pulling you into a dreamy languor.

A boyfriend sounds nice... right?

-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The sound of incessant phone ringing filled your room, grumbling under the sheets, you unwillingly pick up the phone.

"Who is it?" You drawled on every word in a drowsy stupor.

"Guten morgen, mein engel!"

You ended the call.

When did you fall asleep? You were having such a nice conversation with your brother too.

As you glance towards the window, you notice that the sun has barely even risen. Feeling lethargic, you let out a groan while still in bed.

Five more minutes...

Your dark lashes fluttered shut as you inhaled the fresh scent of cedar from your sheets. You sank softly into the mattress as sleep slowly envelopes you-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

You moaned softly.

"Five more minutes..." You spoke quietly to the spirits in your room.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Five just five-"

Ring. RIng. RIng.

Your eyes snapped open, half awake and half annoyed.

"What is it?" Mouth still dry as you tried to sound as harsh as possible to the rude morning caller, but it came out sounding like a meek, saddened mouse.

"Is mein liebling still sleepy?" The timbre of the caller's voice sent chills down your spine.

You know this voice! You rubbed your sleepy eyes and cleared your dry throat, "Kaiser?"

"Yes, Liebling." He purred.

Your bare arms prickled, sending you chills.

You were still sleeping, right?

"Er- wwie komme ich zu Cologne (*how do i get to Cologne)?" You spouted a random German phrase you so happen to remember from your travels.

"You are very cute," he lightly chuckled.

Oh damn, maybe you were half asleep but that was a pretty nice-sounding chuckle. Still, you did not understand what he just said.

"Someone reached out to me and said you are very much in love with me and that we are in a loving relationship," he continued softly, clearly enunciating each and every word you did not understand, "I am very very flattered, Liebling."

You feigned laughter in response, not sure what you are laughing at but he was laughing too so you are safe.

"Yes, it is a joyous occasion," Kaiser laughed in tune with yours.

Seriously, what is this man saying? You thought to yourself between laughs.

☆〜（ゝ。∂）the end (for now) ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

sike! Extras!

Sae is very unimpressed by Kaiser's courting of his sister. He does not know much outside of soccer but he sure as hell knows that Kaiser's method was, to say the very least, strange. He just hopes the German fella does not hurt his sister. That would be extremely troublesome.

<thank you, darlings for your endless love of reading this! My heart is full SMOOCH SMOOCH ଘ(੭ºัᴗºั)━☆ﾟ*:.>

<also, how would you react if you met someone like Kaiser irl, because girlfriend he is screaming red flag to me>

[intoanotherworld23]

The Escort

Pairing: Female reader x Pedro Pascal

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, there is mention of sex, description of sex, female masturbation, unprotected sex, p in v, sex in a bathroom, discussion of sexual activities, mild spanking, swear words

Summary: Pedro Pascal is one of the worlds most famous actors, and he’s going on tour to promote his new movie, but he’s got a bit of a bad boy reputation, and to make sure he stays out of trouble that’s when you are hired

HEARTS, REBLOGS, and COMMENTS are highly encouraged and appreciated! I’d like to know what you guys think and if you like it so far! If you wish to be added to my Pedro tag list let me know and I’ll add you!! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"So wait a minute." You started off not thinking you heard this man correctly. "You want me to be his what?"

"Yes we want you to be his escort." Feeling like your jaw was about to drop to the floor. Never in your life did you ever think you would be getting this type of offer.

Staring at the man as if he had grown two heads. You didn't think this is what this meeting was going to entail. Thinking maybe Pedro wanted to do a movie or something along those lines, but not something like this.

"I know it's unusual and I'm sure you have loads of questions." He spoke when he saw the spooked look on your face. "Feel free to ask anything you want."

"Uh yeah like how the hell out of all the women was I chosen?" That was obviously the first question you wanted answered. "Are we sure he is even talking about me?"

"Yes of course." He placed both his hands together on top of the desk. "Pedro saw you one day at a local cafe, and become enamored with you, and said you would be perfect for him."

"He became enamored with me?" It came out like a question but it was really to you raising an eyebrow at him. "I don't believe that."

"I swear to god he did." He shook his head and looking at his face he was telling the whole truth. "He came to me after he saw you, and said he wanted you."

"What in the world would he want me for?" It didn't make sense given how good looking the man was, and how many women threw themselves at him.

"Well you see Pedro has a certain reputation with women, and it's hurting his image. "He stated making you scoff knowing that part was absolutely true.

"Yeah that's a given." You agreed with him making him crack a smile.

Knowing very well about his reputation with the ladies. Every time a new magazine came out his face was on it along with a new woman. Not surprised every time you saw he was in trouble. This man had bad boy written all over him, and he loved the attention.

It also would surprise you if he had a secret child or a couple. He probably couldn't even keep track of the amount of women he has slept with which disgusted you.

"So with this new movie and him touring we want to keep him out of trouble." Nodding your head for him to continue. "We came up with the idea that we would let him choose one woman to take with him on tour."

"To do what?" You asked somewhat already knowing what his answer was going to be.

"To sleep with whenever he wants." He blurted out making your eyes wide, and your heart race. "To be an escort."

"What about being in the public eye?" That was a main concern for you not wanting to be pictured as Pedro’s whore.

"We will try to keep you out of tabloids and magazine stories." He didn't sound too confident about that making you a little nervous. "If anything we will make it look like there's nothing going on between you two."

"Won't people get suspicious about me?" Pestering him with more questions and concerns. He didn't look irritated by your questions though which made you feel a little better.

"I imagine they will but Y/N you are just meant to be his escort and keep him satisfied." He replied and you almost tried not to roll your eyes.

"Let me get this straight." You sat up straighter as you tried to wrap your mind around this. "You want me to travel with this man to be his plaything so he doesn't sleep around with other women?"

"That's exactly right." He smiled like it was no big deal meanwhile you on the other hand were kind of freaking out. "Less temptation for him."

"The more you have sex with him the more likely he won't have sex with other women." He continued when he saw the baffled look on your face.

This man was straight up telling you one of the hottest men in this world wanted you to be his little plaything. To do whatever he wanted to whenever he wanted. Just so he could stay out of trouble, and not tarnish his reputation more than he already had.

Apparently this movie was supposed to be really big, and his agent didn't want him to mess this up. Now what they were telling you was that you would be traveling with him while he promotes his movie, and he got to fuck you whenever.

A part of you was screaming to just walk out of the room now. The other part of you was on your knees begging you to take this offer, and just let the man rip your body to shreds. For all you know it could be the best most incredible sex you will ever have.

Wondering to yourself what kind of lover he was. Imagining he was an absolute animal in the bedroom. The type of hold your legs open wide for him so he could get even deeper inside of you. The type to whisper filthy things in your ear as he rammed inside of you against a wall.

A shiver running up your spine, and a tingling sensation running up your arms at the thought. Refraining yourself from biting your lower lip so this man didn't know you were getting turned on by thoughts.

"So what do you say?" He asked after minutes of silence and you staring off into space. "Will you take the offer?"

"How much is the pay?" You asked without confirming you were taking the job yet.

"Well if would be about half a million a week." He said making your almost choke on your own saliva. "The tour is about six months long."

Half a million a week? Feeling like you were almost about to faint hearing those numbers. That kind of money you could get out of your crappy apartment, and into a nice house. You wouldn't have to worry about working for a little while.

This is exactly the kind of thing that you needed to happen in your life. Now it was just a matter of if you were going to take the offer or not. Hoping that this type of arrangement wasn't going to be something out of a nightmare.

Bouncing back and forth on the idea, and on what to say. It really shouldn't be that hard of a decision, but it was hard for you. Something like this could go horribly wrong, and completely tarnish your name.

On the other hand you would get to travel the states, and along the way get to have amazing sex with an incredibly handsome, and wealthy man. Everything would be paid for, and you wouldn't have to worry about anything.

"Okay I'll do it." Speaking fast as to not wanting to change your mind. The man clapped his hands together in joy and stood up.

"Wonderful I will let everyone know and make sure everything is arranged for you." Standing up with him he reached a hand out for you to shake. "Pedro she said yes."

All of a sudden the door opened, and there stood Pedro with a huge grin plastered all over his face. Feeling your cheeks turn into flames, and your feet felt glued to the floor. This man had just heard the whole conversation, and he was now standing in front of you.

Feeling yourself drooling a little bit as you ogled at the man you were going to be with for a while. He was even more attractive in person, and you felt your palms become sweaty. Maybe this wasn't going to be so hard or bad at all.

"I knew you wouldn't say no." He smiled showing off his perfect straight, and white teeth. "You're absolutely perfect."

"You're right Pedro she is." Both men were staring at you now, and the room was suddenly becoming a lot warmer.

Watching as his light sparking chocolate brown eyes traced your body up and down. He had this dark and animalistic look on his face. Gulping harshly as you felt a lump form in your throat. It was like he was eye fucking you, and he couldn't wait to get you alone.

"Well Y/N meet Pedro." He pointed to both of you with introductions. "Pedro meet Y/N."

"It's very nice to officially meet you." He stuck his hand out to which you took. His huge hands enveloped yours, and his skin was much softer than you expected.

"You too." Smiling as you released his hand crossing your arms across your chest. "Now I can put a face with my stalkers name."

Both Pedro and the agent belted out with a laugh. It was kind of true though in all reality Pedro was silently stalking you for a minute. If anything you would have thought he was the stalked one not the stalker.

"So when do I official become his plaything?" Asking a little harsher than you intended, and making a soft face when you saw the reactions.

"As soon as possible." The agent replied as he started to look through some papers. "We would like to get you two on the road soon."

"Will I have my own room?" You asked but you received a few chuckles from both men. Looking at the both confused to their response.

"Yes of course you will have your own room." The agent replied once he stopped laughing.

"Not that you're going to be in that room much anyways." Pedro wiggled his eyebrows at you making open your mouth as you tried not to giggle.

"Can I talk to my friends and family?" This was going to be a dealbreaker for you. If he said no then you were out that door with no hesitation.

"Absolutely you can talk to who ever you would like." That was a huge relief to hear that. "But you cannot tell them details about exactly what you are doing."

Nodding your head as you kept your back to Pedro now. Feeling these intense eyes on your backside as you tried not to tremble. Becoming intimated suddenly with him when he hasn't even done anything yet.

Before you could leave the room you felt a warm body press up against your backside. Hands softly latched onto your hips as they pulled you back. Feeling a breeze brush against the skin of your neck like someone was breathing on you.

Knowing exactly who it was as you felt a sudden poke on your butt making you gasp. Pedro chuckled in your ear as you felt your chest heaving slowly up and down. The room was so quiet you could hear a feather drop.

The agent wasn't even paying attention to the two of you. Pedro’s lips barely touching between your neck and shoulder blade. The aroma of his pinewood smelling cologne filled your nostrils making your mouth water. His hands inching forward pressing on your pelvic bone.

He was already seducing you, and you two weren't even on the road yet. This was going to be an extremely interesting, and long six months with this man. Anything can happen on the road, and you had a feeling a lot was going to happen.

"I can't wait to get you on that bus and fuck you all the time." He growled lowly in your ear making you whimper. "Hard."

——————————————

"How do you like it?" Pedro asked once you both had stepped on the bus.

Looking around incredibly impressed with how huge and luxurious it looked. Everything looked shiny and brand new. This bus probably cost more than anything you've owned.

"It's amazing." Stating in awe as you sat down on the leather sofa. "I could live here."

"Yeah well this will be your home for the next six months." Pedro sat down next to you both your thighs touching. "So get comfy."

"Have you ever done anything like this?" He asked you out of the blue turning to look at you.

"Uh nope never done anything remotely close to something like this." Cracking an awkward smile as you looked down at you lap.

"Well I gotta know what's something you won't do." Licking his lips making you look up at him. "Just so I know I'm not crossing any boundaries."

"Can't really think of anything I don't like." Shrugging your shoulders answering honestly. "I'm pretty much up for anything."

"You like to be eaten out?" Coughing all of a sudden with his abrupt question.

"Uh yeah I do." Hearing that had him winking at you. Guessing that you were going to be in for a lot of oral now.

Now wondering what his tongue would feel like against you. His tongue would probably feel like a warm, wet, thick, and soft piece of clothing. Seeming like a guy that knew a woman's body, and would probably pay special attention to your clit.

Shaking those images out of your head once you realized you were just staring. Not trying to get all turned on already. Parts of you just wanted to relax, and maybe even just get to know Pedro a little better.

"You like anal?" He threw another question at you.

"Never done it." A shiver running up your spine at the thought of him slowly pushing his cock into your ass. "I would like to try though."

"That a girl." He seemed to like that answer as he clicked his tongue at you. "I'll make sure you enjoy it."

Well now you were going to add anal to the list of things he was going to be doing to you. Not that you would have a problem you just didn't know if you would exactly like it. It's never something you really were interested in, but your main job was to keep him satisfied.

The whole point was to keep him from sleeping around with other women. Not doing the things he wanted would probably sexually frustrate him, and turn him to someone who would satiate his needs.

You were just going to have to suck it up, and do what he wanted. There may be things you didn't want to do that he might make enjoyable for you. For instance the whole anal thing. It may be something you don't find a turn on, but it he makes you feel good you'll want it more.

"Do you have a safe word?" He grinned at you lightly pushing his shoulder against yours.

"Nope never had to use one." Shaking your head a look of surprise on his face.

"Really?" He said as he leaned forward putting a hand on his hip. "I'll be sure to change that."

The way he was staring at you had the room suddenly raise a couple degrees. Your insides were swimming with desire, and you could feel your thighs clenching tightly. He was casting a spell on you that you didn't even realize.

"I think I'm gonna use the bathroom." Excusing yourself as you walked away before anything happened already.

Shutting the door behind you as you leaned both hands against the sink. Turning on the water splashing the cold water on your neck, and cheeks hoping that would cool you down. Staring at yourself in the mirror wondering if you made a good choice.

This man screamed trouble, and you were already getting nervous. Not even in the bud for five minutes, and he was already trying to get you in the bed.

Pushing a hand down your pants to feel you were already wet. Just the thought of him on top of you kissing your neck as he pounded his cock into you had you rubbing your folds.

Rubbing three fingers slowly up and down your folds gathering juices before you pushed all three of them inside of you. Lightly gasping as you felt the stretch around your fingers. Gripping on the edge of the sink as you closed you eyes.

Leaning your head back as you imagined Pedro standing in front of you with his three fingers deep inside your pussy. His fingers looked thick, and would be enough to make you cum all over them.

Letting a moan slip past your lips as you pushed them even deeper. Placing your hand over your mouth to keep your noises muffled. Surely he heard that one, but you didn't care at the moment , and you wanted to keep going.

Closing your eyes as you thrust your fingers faster. Hearing the sounds of your wet pussy echoing in the small room. Rotating your hips back and forth trying to get more of your fingers. Imaging that it was Pedro’s cock inside of you instead.

"Tsk tsk tsk." A deep voice broke you from your intimate moment making you jump pulling your fingers out. "Playing with yourself already when I'm just right here."

Staring at him as your soaked fingers were glistening in the light. You were caught red handed, and you didn't know whether to be turned on or afraid. Based off the look on his face he was turned on very much.

Standing there your feet frozen to the floor, and no words coming out of your mouth. Waiting for him to make his next move since you felt somewhat embarrassed. Nobody has ever caught you touching yourself, and of course the first time had to be Pedro.

You didn't even hear the door opening which really baffled you. Maybe you were enjoying yourself so much you didn't hear it. Mentally slapping your head for not paying more attention or locking the door at least.

"Bet that pussy is soaked for me huh?" He shut the door behind him as he stood in front of you. "Fuck I can smell you from here."

Lifting his nose in the air as he took a deep breath. Grabbing hand that was just inside you and sticking those three fingers inside of his mouth. Wrapping his fingers around them with a groan.

"Delicious." He smacked his lips as he let go of your hand. Your mouth hanging open as you watched everything unfold. "God I need you right now.

Not wasting another second he quickly turned you around. Pushing your front right up against the sink. Hands gripped your hips as he quickly pulled your pants and underwear down past your knees.

Hearing the sound of his belt and pants being pulled down as well. Looking in the mirror to see his huge and erect cock ready to action. Pre cum already leaking out the tip, and seeing his veins protruding making you gulp.

He was huge and now you were even more nervous he was going to be too huge for you. Watching as he pumped his cock a few times before he rubbed it up and down your folds to gather your arousal.

His eyes on yours as he suddenly pushed his cock inside of you making you cry out with uneven breaths. Hands tightly gripping onto the sides of the sink as you closed your eyes.

"Jesus I knew you were tight." He growled as he stayed still so you could adjust to him. "Gonna have to stretch this little pussy out."

Feeling you clench your pussy around him he took that as his cue to move. Slowly pushing himself in and out of you while he kept his hands on your hips.

His cock was filling you to the brim all the way up into your stomach. Your body moving against the sink with every movement he made. Hearing your ass cheeks clapping against him making you moan.

Every few thrusts he would rotate his hips in figure eight movements making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Not only was this man's cock huge, but he knew exactly what to do with it.

"Such a good girl taking my cock well." He complimented as he looked down to watch his cock disappear inside of you. "Pussy has been begging for this."

Your head leaning forward to press against the mirror. Mouth hanging open as little gasps and whimpers left your lips. Feeling his thrusts becoming faster, and more aggressive. Leaning up on your tippy toes to feel more of him.

It's been so long since you have felt this good. Wanting nothing more than to have his cock in you all the time now. You wanted to worship him, and you would get down on your knees and beg for his cock.

"Oh god right there." Screaming as you felt him hit your sweet spot.

"That what you want sweetheart?" His hand grabbed your neck and pulled you body back and up against his. "Fuck baby you feel so good."

Feeling your walls already tightening around him. Already on the brink of your release as you head was spinning. Your toes curling on the insides of your shoes. You didn't know how much longer you were going to last.

"Harder." You begged noticing his thrusts had slowed down. He just chuckled in your ear wanting to play a game. "Harder please."

"Say my name." He stopped almost completely making you whimper. "Say my name."

Backing your hips up into him to feel all of him, but he stilled your movements. Leaning your head back against his shoulder as he kissed aggressively against your neck. Sucking on the exposed flesh feeling blood rise to the surface.

"Pedro." Squealing out making his hand come down on your ass. Surely that was going to leave a mark.

"Say it again." He commanded as he sharply thrust his hips inside of you.

"Fuck Pedro." Hearing that was all he needed to keep going. This time he was pounding into you like he was a wild animal.

Leaning your body forward again one hand in your lower back this time. Every few seconds his hand coming down on your ass making you hiss knowing his hand print would surely show up. He would laugh though every time you squealed when he did that.

"I knew you liked to be spanked." His hands gripped your ass cheeks as he watched you back your body into his cock.

His eyes on you the whole time as he was admiring your body. Watching the way you worked, and what kinds of faces you made when he would do a certain thing. Almost like he wanted to learn what you liked the best.

You were quickly approaching your release tears brimming the corners of your eyes on the brink of your orgasm. Your stomach was starting to tighten and you felt like you had to go to the bathroom. Nails scratching against the sink the pain being overtaken by pleasure.

"Cum around my cock for me baby." He growled into your ear as he leaned over your body pulling your head up towards his chin. "Squeeze my cock."

Your back arched in a different way but it felt so good. Closing your eyes when your orgasm hit you so fast making your body shake. Pedro could feel you squeezing his cock cumming around him. A few more thrusts, and you felt Pedro’s cock twitch inside of you squirting him warm load inside of you.

Both of you trying to catch your breath. Your legs were shaking and his hands were still on your hips keeping you close to him. Pulling his cock out of you hissing at the feeling of how sensitive and sore you were.

"Jesus fuck I knew you were going to kill me with this pussy." He joked the both of you laughing as you straightened yourselves up. "God damn never had a pussy like you.”

"Well I'm not like any woman you've ever had." Coming up with a quick comeback smirking at him.

"I think you and I are going to have fun Y/N." He turned you around placing his soft lips on yours.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @sullyosully

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @marchai @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise

[that-one-pizza]

DP & Wolverine short fic. Hug?

This takes place on the walk home right after Deadpool invites Wolverine to come live with him. Dp has a genuine request.

Also on Ao3! (/ /) <- Punctuation indicates Dp breaking the fourth wall.

---

Walking out of the neighborhood they had so graciously devastated by their attempts at fighting off a horde of regenerating, smack-talking, red ninjas was gloriously uneventful. The sound of firehoses spraying, the smell of drying blood, and police chatter began to fade as the two heroes departed, heading towards the general direction of Wade's apartment. (/I could so call Dopinder to pick us up, but then I'd miss my chance!/) <- He'll be sure to pop in again just like that.

Deadpool clears his throat, "Hey, uh, Wolvie?"

"Hm?" the man in a hoodie and yellow pants answers, not breaking his stride. Dogpool trots loyally at their heels.

Wade stops, the bottom of his boots scraping the pavement and places his hands together, entwining his own fingers. This causes Logan to halt as well, beginning to wonder what was so important that they had to stop their trek back to the apartment.

"Today's been a lot, obviously. I mean, we've seen other cinematic universes, experienced the joys of the desert, you lost your top and your tits were out for the whole world to see and I know you've been terribly dehydrated for approximately 3 days, thanks Hollywood body standards." He's written in that last bit himself. Great.

"And, as men, we are incredibly emotionally stunted, and you can stab me in the chest for asking this: but I implore you, with the upmost respect, and desperation, along with the incredible willingness to beg for hours and hours the likes of which the reader has never experienced before (/even on Wattpad, you little freaks/)," he takes a breath, "…can I hug you?"

He sounds completely earnest, if a bit pathetic. Logan takes a moment to study the man with brown eyes that seemed to soften as he spoke his request, contemplating whether this was some ridiculous ploy to get overly touchy with him or to spring a sneak attack.

Finding Wade wearing a small hopeful smile, patiently standing with his hands clasped, and quiet as if holding his breath, Logan resigns himself with a sigh. It's been a long, emotional (though, he'll only admit it when he's 10 bottles down and forgets where he is), and painful day of literally saving the universe and he wants nothing more than to crash on Wade's couch. A simple hug between heroic partners wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"If you grab anything, or make inappropriate comments, I'll cut your damn head off," he says, though there's no true venom behind his claim, and lazily opens his arms.

In an instant, Wade closes the gap, eliciting an 'oof' from the other. The merc wraps his arms tightly underneath Logan's and practically nuzzles into his neck.

"Alright, bub. That's enough," Logan pats Wade's back. "C'mon, we gotta--"

He's cut off by Wade making strained noises, clutching him tighter, and attempting to lift the shorter man off the ground.

"Wade."

"…yeah?" He struggles out.

"My bones are made of metal," Logan supplies.

"Doesn't matter!" He tugs, only slightly elevating the other's heels, "I can totally do this! I'm gonna recreate the damn Notebook(TM) scene if it kills me," he readjusts his stance and heaves again. "Oh glorious Ryan Gosling, give me your Kenergy! HYAH!" There's a sharp crack and Wade drops his arms and slumps.

"That was your back, wasn't it?" Logan deadpans.

"I uh-," Wade twists his torso away. "Have no idea what you mean. I'm just taking a bit of a break!" /nice/ his yellow text box supplies. He rights himself with another loud crack, "YEOWCH! Ah, see! Good as-"

He's cut off by two large arms sweeping under his own, tightening around his lower back, and suddenly being lifted off the ground with a yelp.

"Like this?" Logan smirks, tightening his hold, looking up at the merc. That hairy man is a bit of a flirt, after all.

Instinctively, Wade lifts one of his legs at an angle and grabs the other's shoulders for stability, as if he'd need it.

(/Any excuse to grab those honkin' chunks of meat!/) Would you get out of my text and let me narrate it?! (/…yeah go ahead-- Wait! My turn to speaky./)

"Oh, Wolverine! So strong, so heroic!" Deadpool fawns, holding his hand to his own face, mimicking a womanly voice. Adding a slight growl to his voice, he then says, "Come here, my scrumptious Honey Badger," and ducks down quickly in an attempt to catch the other in a kiss.

Just as quickly, Logan reacts by completely releasing his hold and stepping back, allowing Wade to comically fall smack down on his face with an 'ack!'

"We're not doing that, bub," Wolverine grumbles, beginning to walk away.

"Yet!" Deadpool lifts his upper body off the ground, holding up his pointer finger. "There's a 'yet' buried under all those grunts! It's okay, my darling, I'll treat you just as sweetly until we do! And when we do, ohoho boy, sparks will fly!" Logan continues his walk away from the man lying on the pavement. Dogpool takes interest in the dropped man and begins licking at the side of his face. "Fireworks!" Wade finally gets to his feet, in pursuit of his partner, "Balloons! Confetti! It'll be on national news and Chappell Roan will sing at our wedding! It'll be the biggest LGBTQ win the MCU will ever have! I already have the arrangements picked out…"

Deadpool continues his yapping in pursuit of the Wolverine, chasing his dream of finally becoming mainstream official with the metal-clawed Canadian.

(/By the way, I totally coulda lifted him ;P/)

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 8

masterpost

“Are we done for the night?” Something cracked when Kon stretched with his fingers interlocked over his head. Peter glanced over and deliberately decided not to comment on the flexible arch of the other guy’s back. 

“Uh…” Peter wiped gunk out of his eye and checked the study plan he’d written out. “Yeah, I think we got through enough. I need to finish this book tonight, though.” He brandished the classic novel about a giant squid that was a metaphor for the inevitability of death. 

“Blegh.” Kon stuck his tongue out. Like, weirdly out. People here sure were flexible and strong and big and handsome, Peter thought, happy for Kon but kinda bemused about it. Maybe he didn’t need to feel any kind of guilt about not being Spiderman here. Home needed him. Clearly, people in this world were like, built better.

‘...Does it bother me that I might not be special here?’ Peter wondered a little uneasily. ‘Kon can fly. I can’t fly. I don’t think everyone here is as fit as he is, but still.’

Oof. No. He didn’t think that was part of what made him want to leave, but the thought made him feel kinda guilty anyway. He started cleaning up his notebooks and ground the rest of the crystals out of his eyelashes with the side of his fist. 

“You staying for dinner?” Kon asked, too casual. He rolled his neck and stood up.

Peter hesitated. Did Kon want him to stay but was too shy to ask, or had he overstayed his welcome?

“I got the stuff for chili and cornbread. Do you know how to make that?” Kon’s already formidable blue eyes threatened a full transformation into a puppy pout.

Ah. That was the face of a man who wanted chili.

“Yeah, we can follow that recipe,” Peter assured him. He shoved all his stuff into his bag, taking care to keep the angle so that Kon shouldn’t be able to see inside and notice that he carried all the clothes he owned with him. “Are we talking like, Tex-Mex?”

Kon kinda bobbed up into the air for a moment. “...Sure,” he obviously lied.

Peter nodded serenely. Aight. Kon didn’t know what Tex-Mex was. “Show me the recipe you want?” he said instead. “Did you find one for cornbread too?”

“Nah, I got a box.” Kon zipped to the kitchen at inhuman speed and tossed a little blue box back and forth between his hands.

Peter managed a smile. “Hell yeah.” He shoved his bag under the table, out of the way. Then he followed his friend into the kitchen and took a moment to be grateful at how much things had improved.

He had a friend. He had a plan. He now had oatmeal and like, wasn’t fully subsisting off of stolen hotel breakfasts and whatever meals Kon hosted him for. He had spent another ten dollars on portable food and it was like night and day for how hard things felt. Peter felt smarter again. His mood was more manageable and stable. He’d found another small website job too, so he was in the process of making a little more money. Things just seemed better even though his material circumstances weren’t really improved yet. He was still homeless and had made no progress towards getting home but it uh, felt more like his problems were solvable, if that made sense?

‘Almost like starvation is bad for you, buddy. Shouldn’t need Dr. Stark’s degrees to figure that out.’

He choked down inappropriate laughter and washed his hands before investigating the vegetables that Kon had sourced for this meal.

They were about halfway through the chance to study for the university placement test. Things were going alright. Honestly, Peter thought that he and Kon were going to smash past the benchmarks they needed to get free rides to Gotham University. He would stop putting hours towards studies if it wasn't the most normal he ever felt in this place. It was a lot better than sneaking into hotel buffets or gym showers or walking the streets for hours until he could go to sleep unnoticed. 

‘Besides, it’s being a good friend to Kon. He wants to do well on this test so badly and he doesn’t trust himself.’

Peter tossed an onion overhand at Kon and started washing peppers. A split second later the pungent smell burst through the room. Peter’s lip curled up but he didn’t let it slow him down as he cut open and deseeded peppers. 

It was great that he was going to have a substantial dinner tonight, actually. It was a big night for him. Peter drifted off mentally as he cut vegetables, lost in his plans.

It was the big heist night. Well. If this counted as a heist? He was going to go do some paperwork and then print copies.

Hmm. No, okay, that was the wrong category of crime. Peter felt his lips twist into a frown. It was a B and E, but that wasn’t as fun to say as heist.

Whatever. The important part was that he was going to break into the social security office and make himself a social security number. He felt pretty nervous about it. He had the vague sense that there were probably better ways to get a social security number. Like, he knew that identity theft was a genre of crime that existed, and also that sometimes people used dead people’s social security numbers. 

But he had no idea how to do it. When your toolkit is climbing up walls and doing data entry, then… that’s how you should solve your problems, right? Right?

Probably. 

That’s what he was going with!

They finished their meal prep and left the soup to bubble while the bread baked. They killed time with an episode of a bizarrely terrible teen drama that Kon felt undying loyalty for. Peter kept his mouth shut and said only polite things  about the production quality of Wendy the Werewolf slayer or whatever it was.

“I liked the bisexual lighting,” Peter offered.

Kon stopped and blinked at him. “The what?”

“The pink, blue, purple lighting?” He furrowed his brow. “When they were running through the woods at twilight.”

“...I mostly noticed the guitar then.” Kon made a pffft sound and resettled further into the sofa cushions somehow. “I want popcorn,” he said thoughtfully.

Peter snorted and got up. “I think dinner is probably ready. I’ll check on it.”

It was, so he served it up. They both had monster appetites so Peter didn’t even feel self-conscious about going back for seconds and thirds. They cleared the pan of cornbread and scraped the pot clean while a second episode ran. Peter honestly put more attention on his food than the plot of a group fight prompted by Wendy seeing her boyfriend at the wrong moment when he got a surprise kiss from her rival on the cheerleading team. Personally, Peter thought Wendy should be more concerned about her narrative foil Wanda, who was obviously a fake friend.

The screen paused. Peter paused in his quest to get the last dregs of chili and watched with curiosity as Kon dug out ice cream and offered Peter a chocolate bar. 

“Oh heck yes,” Peter said reverentially. He tore the package open with his teeth. “Thanks, man.” He abandoned the last droplets of real food and sank his teeth into the dessert.

“Thank Lex,” Kon said, in that weirdly slightly tense voice he got whenever he said things like that.

Peter waited a moment, internally debating. It wasn’t his business. Except it was, because Kon was his friend. He ventured, “You don’t have to credit Lex if it makes you feel bad, you know?”

“Huh?” Kon blinked at him, eyes suddenly so intense that it felt like Peter was being X-rayed.

Peter shrugged and broke eye contact. “Lex is your parent, right?” he checked, not totally certain he had a handle on Kon’s personal life. The guy dodged questions left and right. “And has conditions on it?” He remembered that bit. Indignation made his voice get a little louder and strident. “You don’t actually owe your parents anything. It’s their responsibility to take care of you. If they don’t treat you right, you can just get out as soon as possible and you don’t have to feel bad that they fed you. You’re not an adult.” 

Kon ran his tongue along his teeth and then took a big suck on his ice cream to avoid answering.

Ah, shit. He didn’t want things to be awkward. He needed a joke to break the tension fast. Peter remembered Kon’s earlier joke and threw out, “You’re like two years old, Kon, no one should expect you to be independent.”

Kon snorted ice cream out his nose and then keened in unhappy surprise. Chocolate splattered onto Peter’s face.

Peter snorted too, too surprised to be disgusted. “Ew!” He choked out. 

Kon shot him a look that said ‘don’t you dare’ but Peter started laughing anyway. “Choco nose,” he managed between cackles.

“I’m divorcing you,” Kon said sulkily, and floated off the sofa. He resettled down on the lone chair and pouted at maximum power. “You can’t laugh at me when I hurt myself with ice cream.”

Peter had been winding down but that set him off again. “Div-divorce,” he gasped. He bent over to put his face on his hands and tried to cover his mouth with his hands to maybe muffle the laughter. “Did we have a pre-nup?” 

“No, because I used to trust you!” Kon wailed, and then he was laughing too.

Peter felt pretty good about his life when he slung his bag over his shoulder and waved goodnight to Kon. He jogged down the 18 flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator out of Kon’s building, humming to himself. He immediately turned to his one-time location instead of towards the library.

Weirdly, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up like he was being watched. He tensed. He extended his senses out to pinpoint the feeling. Someone on the streets? Someone watching from a window?

‘I don't hear anyone. I just feel paranoid because I'm on my way to commit a paperwork crime.’

Peter hunched his shoulders up towards his ears and tried to ignore it. There was no one here.

It seemed risky to bring all his personal belongings along to the scene of a crime. So the first thing that Peter did after arriving was scope out a nearby building where he could ditch his bag. Once he had stashed it out of sight he set out figuring out how to get inside without setting off their security system. 

This building was clearly a little better-funded than the office of vital statistics had been. Peter spidered around identifying the cameras and what they covered. There was just no way to approach any of the doors without getting caught on film. Good for them. He climbed up the adjoining building and leapt across to cling to the right building. Then he hunted down a good window and forced it open with a guilty grimace. He hurt his fingers a little, grinding them into the crevice to get enough grip to force the frame to bust right through the mechanism of the poor lock. The sad thing fell off and landed inside with a quiet thump.

Peter waited a bit to see if anyone had heard that or if any super high-tech alarm would start to wail. 

Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

“It is a government building,” Peter muttered to himself, and sheepishly slunk inside to start his errand. He waited to let his eyes adjust to the near total darkness inside. It was a good thing that he was spidery, honestly, because turning on a light would have been a really bad idea. 

He had to boot up a computer and then search around for whatever program they used. It took forever to find it by running everything he didn't recognize and then clicking around inside. The dull light of the computer screen sent a faint flutter of anxiety through his body but come on, it wasn't that bright. He hunched over it to block the light with his body.

Luckily it wasn't actually that hard to figure out the form when he found it. It was just, uh. 

“Forgery,” Peter said under his breath, aghast when he realized that there was a name for someone doing this. Yikes. He was doing another crime that he'd forgotten about. Doing his paperwork was a separate crime from the B&E, huh.

Well. Gotta do what ya gotta do. He was a person and he deserved the benefits of personhood to navigate society. 

‘Still feels like I'm being watched. No way do they have cameras good enough for that, though. I need to just do this and get out of here.’

He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the lingering unease. Jeeze. He really wasn't cut out for crime. 

He wrote his actual parents’ names on the form, his real birthday on the adjusted year, and went with the hospital he'd picked out earlier for his place of birth. “I hope this is all I need to do to actually register…” Peter fidgeted and hit print. He got himself two copies and carefully tucked them away in two different pockets, struck by a weird paranoia.

He double-checked his work. He looked up himself in their database and confirmed that the record for Peter Parker was there, with the newly issued number. He swallowed down nerves and shut down the computer. He left out the same window as before. He skittered over to where he'd left his bag and he made direct eye contact with a friggin ninja.

‘Heck.’

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! Okay so Joe needs to apologise asap! This is his attempt I guess… idk what’s happening anymore man

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: I don’t think there are any…

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter nineteen: An Itchy, Army Issued Blanket 

Their barracks were dark and quiet when the ladies returned. Charlotte was all but dragged to her bed by Connie and Betty, who then immediately started getting ready to pass out on their own cots.

Lucy and Blythe were inseparable, snuggling together on a bed too small for the two of them, by now all the women had noticed the lovey dovey behaviour between them. No one said anything, no one minded. 

Bernadette had spent the entire cab ride sniffling and wiping at her face where stray tears fell. No one had mentioned what had happened with Liebgott, though all of them witnessed it, except Charlotte who was in a world of her own and wouldn’t remember anything from this night. 

She changed her clothes and brushed out her hair, too tired to walk to the bathroom and finish her nighttime ritual. Before Birdie could climb under the covers of her awaiting bed, Frankie made eye contact with her. She shook her half empty pack of smokes at the mousy haired girl and flicked her head toward the door, a silent invitation. 

Bernadette sighed and joined the Italian woman outside. She might feel better if she spoke about what happened. She hadn’t quite figured out why his words got to her so badly, perhaps talking to Francesca could help. They sat on the wooden steps as they usually did. Rossi lit a cigarette and passed it to her friend, then lit her own. 

Francesca wouldn’t push, of course she wanted to know exactly what was said and what tone was used, but she wanted to avoid more tears if possible. Seeing Birdie quietly crying and then trying to pretend everything was okay, upset her more than she cared to admit. 

“I don’t know why I cried.” Her words were void of emotion. Frankie only hummed in response, waiting for her to share what was on her mind. 

“He’s always been kind of mean. I thought he actually hated me…. But then something changed.” Frankie was more than curious, she thought back to the uncomfortable night she watched from the shadows. Rossi liked people watching, she picked up on hidden feelings or underlying vibes easily. Whatever had or hadn't happened between Birdie and Liebgott perplexed her. And apparently, she wasn’t the only one.

“Joe was really… I-I thought maybe, just maybe we could've been friends.” 

“But?” Francesca prompted, eager to hear more of this odd dynamic. 

“But, he thinks I'm the worst.” The words cracked as the downcast woman spoke them, her eyes focused on the floor, her shoulders sagged in defeat, even her bottom lip protruded in a pout. 

“I’m sure that's not true…” The older woman consoled. Bernadette was sweet and witty and an oddly likeable person. Francesca had specifically tried not to make friends with anyone but Birdie managed to wiggle her way into her heart and now she couldn’t imagine not being friends with the little firecracker. 

“No, it is. The words he used were: Arrogant, conceited bitch.” She didn’t even have one second to feel sorry for herself as Frankie instantly counter argued. 

“Ha. You are the least arrogant, conceited person I've ever met. And you're definitely not a bitch.” 

“Not according to him.” Now she was sulking, pouting and feeling sorry for herself. The attitude change was phenomenal. From Francesca’s perspective, Birdie had always been confident. Not overly but enough to tough it out with her self righteous Captain. 

“Why do you care what he thinks of you?” Maybe Rossi would have to give the poor girl some hints, she obviously hasn't picked up on her own feelings for the man who bullied her. It would explain her need for his approval and why his comments affected her the way they did. 

“I-” She couldn’t answer, she didn’t know how. Why did she care so much about what Joseph Liebgott thought of her?  “Because, I- I don’t know.”

“I think I do.” She would have to tell the southern girl, it was her duty as best friend. She couldn’t let her go on like this, it was down right embarrassing. 

“Enlighten me.” 

“You like him.” The George company woman spoke plainly, no point sugarcoating it. 

“What? No, you're way off, he’s so- But he’s- He is a pigheaded jerk. I-I don't like him.” Birdie spluttered, stumbling over her words and giving Frankie an incredulous look. 

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? Either way, I don't think it's working.” She paused to let the words sink in, “Come on, you need some sleep.” 

————————

Letting go of Birdie’s arm and watching her walk out the door, surrounded by her girlfriends, caused a pang in Joe’s chest. 

He was at fault and he knew it. Joe didn’t mean the harsh words and he shouldn’t have said those things about her, whether she was listening or not. And now, he sat at the bar, gulping down whatever alcohol came his way. 

“Liebgott?” No answer, he preferred to mope in peace. But Tipper wouldn’t sit by and watch his friend beat himself up over a girl, especially because he had money on the two getting together before they were deployed.

“She’ll come round.” Ed wasn’t really sure what else he could say to soothe the situation. But he had noticed the girl in question harboured feelings for his brooding friend, and he definitely knew Joe felt some type of way about Birdie. 

The issue was getting them to recognise their own fondness of each other and stop messing up. It was like the pair were stuck in blatant denial, not even considering the reason why they were always so drawn to one another, constantly needing to make comments to gain the others attention. To Ed it was transparent, which is why he was so confident about the running bet in Easy company, Joe and Birdie; Will they? Won’t they? 

“I think she hates me now.” 

“What? She didn’t before?” Tip was trying to lighten the mood, but Joe wasn’t having it. He continued to feel sorry for himself, drinking yet another pale yellow beer.

“No… I don't know- she was, we were... It doesn’t matter now.” The alcohol was affecting him, he couldn’t think straight and his words came out as incoherent mumble.

“You should apologise.” 

“You think I don't know that?” Joe’s snark was intact regardless of how much he drank. 

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Ed paused, “If you made a meaningful gesture… something only known between you two…” He trailed off, letting Joe put the rest of the thought together in his mind. 

“Yeah? Like what? In case you didn’t notice, we don't exactly have the best track record.” Liebgott was mad, not at his friend, just in general or at himself. His patience with Tipper’s chit chat was running thin. 

“Well, what do you have?” 

—------------------

While weekend passes were more common now than back in Toccoa, they were still highly sought after. Joe had a plan to smooth over the mishap with Bernadette and it meant spending a precious pass at the library reading, instead of getting shitfaced at a bar. 

He prayed it would work, that Bernadette would forgive him and let his unkind words fade away. Joe had already decided on a place and time and now he needed to convince one of her friends to bring her to the spot. She probably wouldn’t meet him there if he asked, so he’d have to be sneaky. 

Approaching Francesca Rossi was intimidating. She had a reputation of not taking shit from anyone and Joe had hurt seemingly her only friend. Plus, Birdie most likely told the Italian woman about his colossal fuck up, so he doubted she would be on his side. 

“What do you want?” Her eyes narrowed at the man walking toward her.

“I was hoping you would help me with something.” Joe knew he had to be straightforward with the George company woman, put his cards on the table and hope for the best.

“Why?” She hadn’t stopped glaring.

“Look, I’ll be honest. I fucked up, with Birdie. I said some things I’d rather not repeat… And I’m just trying to apologise.” 

“What do you need?” He hadn’t expected it to be that easy, so he stood still for a moment processing, before he explained his plan to her. It felt dumb to say it out loud, but when Rossi gave him a nod and a half smile, promising to do her part, he thought: maybe he was doing the right thing.

“One thing before you go…” Francesca called out to him as he turned to leave, he stopped and looked at the woman over her shoulder.

“Yeah?” 

“You hurt her again…. I will kill you.” There was no hint of a joke in her tone, no curve of her lips. She meant it and she wanted him to know she would follow through. Birdie meant alot to her, she didn’t have many women friends so she would hold onto the southerner for the rest of her life, kill for her, die for her if necessary. 

“I know you will.” 

“Good.”

—----------------

The night came. Joe was nervous. He told himself it was due to all the facts he had to memorise and his anxiety was about messing up in front of an expert. 

Something in the back of his head said her name and the idea of his nerves coming from his need to impress this specific woman ran through his brain. Maybe it was a little bit about Bernadette, but he couldn’t dwell on it too much. He had places to be and apologies to set up. 

—--------------------

Francesca was good at keeping secrets and hiding things. So when the time came, Birdie suspected nothing. Frankie told her friend she needed her help with something and led her outside and into the dark with no explanation. Birdie didn’t question it, Francesca wouldn’t steer her wrong, she trusted the woman with everything she had.

After a few minutes of walking, the two women came upon a clearing with an olive green, Army issued blanket laid down upon the grass. A gas lantern lit up the immediate area.

Just as Bernadette began to wonder what was going on, Liebgott came into view, stepping into the light that shone from the source on the floor. Birdie’s jaw hung, she looked between the man and her friend who had brought her here, feeling somewhat betrayed. 

“Frankie? What the hell?” Were the words she finally managed to get out. 

“You got two options, Birdie. Stay here and hear him out… or we walk away. I’ll punch him in the throat too, if you want.” All three of them considered the words carefully. 

“Fair.” Joe shrugged, knowing he deserved it. 

Francesca eyed the younger woman as she pondered her options. She knew the outcome, it was plain to see which one Birdie would go for, the look on her face said it all.

She was curious, Joe intrigued her beyond words and even though he had said some things that hurt Birdie, she still craved his attention, to be around him, to listen to whatever he was about to say. 

Bernadette didn’t have to say it, she just gave Frankie a look and the black hair woman was on her way, not before shooting Liebgott a stern glare. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Joe broke the silence that was growing between the two. 

“But you still said it.” She couldn’t let him get away that easy. 

“I know… I shouldn’t’ve. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” Birdie had already decided she’d forgive him but she wanted to drag it out, see him sweat. She knew first hand how scary Frankie could be, the fact that he had talked her into this project of his was apology enough in her books. 

“I am so sorry, Birdie.” His words were genuine, he truly was sorry. He would have said it a hundred more times if she wanted him too. His pride aside, he wanted her to know it. Talking about her like that was not something that would be repeated. Hurting her had hurt him, maybe Tipper was right, maybe his feelings for her ran deeper than he thought. 

He wanted to be her friend of course, she was always so smiley and happy, it was easy to get along with her. Joe enjoyed his time around her, even before, when all the words they said to each other were dipped in sarcasm. He actually enjoyed the witty comebacks she came up with, he liked that she wouldn’t let anyone walk over her. She always had something to say and he found himself wanting to listen more and more as time went on. 

“What’s that for?” Birdie nodded her head to the blanket, trying to steer away from acknowledging the apology. 

“Huh? Oh..” Lieb looked behind him, “Come here, sit. I want to show you something.” He sat and patted the empty space next to him. Birdie followed instruction and lowered herself onto the itchy blanket. 

Joe leaned back, propping himself up with one arm and pointing skyward with the other. Birdie copied his stance, turning her chin up and watching where he pointed to. 

“See that? That’s the Little Dipper-“ Birdie’s attention was pulled from the stars above them and to the guy casually dropping constellation names. 

“Wait… it actually is… how did you know that?” She imagined Joe, head in a book, studying star clusters so he would have something to talk to her about and it made her stomach flip. Had he really done something like that for her? She was vaguely aware that he didn’t care for studying or reading novels, so if he had done that it was solely for her benefit. 

Lieb let his arm drop, turning his head to face her. The eye contact made Birdie want to twirl a strand of hair with her fingers and giggle like a schoolgirl- Damn, maybe Francesca had been right about her liking Joseph Liebgott. 

“Magic.” His face was stoic and serious as he whispered the word to her, like it was a secret. Then, his infamous smirk broke onto his face and Bernadette couldn’t help but grin back at him, the butterflies in her tummy were going crazy, but she tried to play it cool. 

“Ah okay. I see: This is your apology? Impressing me with your new found knowledge of the stars?” Said with feigned disinterest. Joe hadn’t stopped watching her, her mannerisms were endearing. Yes, he definitely wanted to be friends with this girl. 

“It depends.” He broke eye contact, attempting to give his heart a moment to catch up. 

“On what?” The country woman had completely forgotten about the twinkly lights above them, something else was far more interesting at this moment. 

“Is it impressing you?” 

It most definitely was. Joe pointed out several well known constellations and even gave a couple backstories. Birdie already knew everything he was telling her but she humoured him and listened with interest at the tales he told her. 

At one point the two lay down for a better view of the starry black sky. Their arms brushed up against one another and neither attempted to move away. They ignored the shared touch, pretending it wasn’t happening but the pair could feel exactly where their bodies met and they revealed in the warmth. 

A/N: does his apology suffice? I think stargazing is going to be a Birdie/Lieb thing from now on.

I love hearing from you guys, so please feel free to comment or dm me!

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter twenty

[tillychmo]

S1-Izzy's Foreshadowed Road to Redemption in s2

(And me slightly gushing over Con O'Neill's acting on the way.)

Right-o. We need to talk about our man Izzy Hands. More specifically we need to talk about Izzy in ep110 and through to the second series, because I have yet to see anyone else comment with this particular angle, so here's my hot take:

(This will include obvious spoilers for all of the current two series of Our Flag Means Death)

I've seen some people talk about Izzy's character change as something that happened 'way too quickly' – I've seen others talk about Izzy not being a bad guy in series 1 at all – and I've seen a lot of people come away from the scene in ep. 110 where they're throwing out Stede's books and Fang/Kevin asks Izzy what happened to his foot with an understanding that Izzy's reaction to that question is one of gloading satisfaction, and because I kinda disagree with all of these takes (but especially the latter), here's my wee take on the lot – with particular emphasis on that 'smile' in ep. 110:

Jumping right in: The second 'Krackbeard' cuts off Izzy's toe Izzy knows that he has f*cked up and finally pushed Ed too far. Sure, Izzy has been used to Blackbeard cutting the toes off of other crew members and make them eat it "for a laugh" for years and years – but Blackbeard/Edward has never turned his violence on Izzy before.

Izzy wanted Blackbeard back, yes, and all the way through s1 he pushed and pushed and pushed him, even though Ed clearly didn't want to be 'Blackbeard' anymore.

We see this in the 'soft' manipulations – like him saying "My boss would like a word with you" to Stede, but telling Edward "I explicitly told him 'Blackbeard desires his company'" – and we see it more and more prevalent as Ed grows closer to and more and more fond of Stede – like Izzy ordering Fang/Kevin and Ivan to back him up in his demand that Edward kills Stede (based on Fang's & Ivan's reactions in the previous scene "This is the most open and available I've ever seen him", I feel OK with surmising that Izzy probably ordered them to back him up here) so that Edward will 'lose face' or even be looked at as weak if he refuses to do it; like insisting on a swordfight with Stede – directly against his captain's orderes – and choosing to not just banish Stede from the ship when it looks as though Izzy is going to win, but actually going in for the kill; like selling Stede (the man Ed loves) out to the English, while also basically treating Edward as a commodity, by making him the 'price' Izzy will earn from the British, when they've captured Stede.

The latter of which – and this is equally as important to note – literally sets the whole trajectory of Ed's fall into Krackbeard in motion.

Ed is the one who returns to the Revenge – not Blackbeard. And Izzy is continually at his wits end, because he has now done nearly every single manipulative thing he can think of (Izzy obviously doesn't think of these things as 'manipulative' – in his eyes he is still doing the 'right thing') to get Edward to 'snap out of it'. But Ed is still refusing to act the part of Izzy's preferred understanding of what masculinity is. In fact, after his return Ed slips even further into the kind of 'feminine'-masculinity that Izzy despises.

And Izzy finally cracks – insisting that 'Edward' and 'Blackbeard' are not the same, and then taunting Edward with his percieved weakness of being heartbroken. This finally goads a reaction out of Ed.

And for the glimmer of a second Izzy thinks he sees 'Blackbeard' in Ed – and you can see the sheer satisfaction on his face:

But Ed doesn't want to be Blackbeard. And the moment Izzy touches his face (other people have written brilliantly on Ed's reactions to physical touch – if I can find it, I will add a link to it here), Ed doesn't go in for the counter attack. Instead, he pushes Izzy's hand away, let's go of Izzy's neck, and takes several steps back. Even here, when he is being actively threatned, he is still refusing to 'act the part' of overt violence that Izzy is demanding of him.

And because Con O'Neill is an actor's absolute dream (side-note: seriously, I cannot get enough of watching his micro-expressions when a thought changes and you can see it so clearly in his eyes) we can see the split-second where Izzy realises this:

(Seriously that thiny change of his eyes is so easy to miss and yet it speaks VOLUMES for Izzy's character and character arc – Con O'Neill you brilliant bastard.)

So at the point where Ed is at his absolutely most vulnerable – because the crew has made him feel safe to do so – Izzy goes for the final 'trick' he has left: He threatens Ed on his life.

And this brings us back to the beginning of this post: Krackbeard cutting off Izzy's toe. Supposedly this should have been an indicator to Izzy that 'Blackbeard' is back and is "himself again" and Izzy even says this himself:

And here we arrive at the whole reason for why I've made this post (yeah, sorry, I know it took a while) :

Izzy is telling us that he finally got what he wanted: "Blackbeard is himself again". In other words: "I WON. YAY."

BUT – and I cannot stress this enough – look at the reaction that follows those words:

"I WON ... YAY?"

THIS is the look that clued me in on where Izzy's character arc was heading. Because there is only one reason to allow the antagonist of your story to crack even the flicker of an inch and acidentally show their true feelings like this – and that is if they are on their way to redemption. And with redemption more often than not also comes their inevitable demise.

THIS is not the face of a man who is happy. THIS is the face of a man who knows damn well that he just cosmically f*cked up and now has to live with the consequences.

Which is why we see him, immediately after this accidental facial honesty, putting on the face of a man who actually got what he wanted. Because he is suddenly finding himself in unchartered territory: Izzy knows who 'Blackbeard' is – but he has no clue who 'Krackbeard' is or how to handle him, because 'Krackbeard' is born from the lack of Stede, the heartbreak that followed, Ed's self-hatred, and the threats from Izzy. And Izzy didn't understand this ... Until he suddenly starts to realise it, when it is seemingly already too late.

So when series two started and we see a completely broken down Izzy, I was not surprised at all. Because not only did Izzy realise in ep. 110 that he had finally pushed Ed too far – he has, in the intervening weeks and months, seen Edward (the man Izzy was/has been/is coming to realise that he loves) deteriorate, doing more and more drugs and abusing alcohol and becoming more and more depressed and suicidal. Izzy has finally realised what antagonising Ed actually costs: Ed's attachment to life – Ed's willingness to live. And the reason why we see Izzy change his tune towards Stede fairly/incredibly quickly in s2, is because Izzy has realised that the only way to save Ed, is to accept that Stede is what brings Ed to life. Not 'Blackbeard', or 'Krackbeard', or any other performative persona, but "just Ed".

Which is why mirroring the 'attack' scene in 110 with the words "There he is" in Izzy's final words to Ed is so damn beautiful.

IZZY: "Just be Ed." Ed breaks down crying. IZZY: "There he is."

(An afterthought: Writing this I'm realising that Izzy's final scene with Edward in 208 actually beautifully mirrors their scene in 110 in more ways than "There he is". In 110 we see Izzy being pinned against the wall; he is 'finally' being touched by Edward, but it happens with violence and agression and with no hint of care or love – but in 208 Izzy asks Ed to sit with him, and not only does Ed stay with him, he is literally holding him, caringly and lovingly in his arms. No agression and no violence. Just care and love and familarity and warmth. Not telling Izzy that he loves him, but showing him. And I think that's quite a nice thought to end on.)

[gumnut-logic]

Lady Thunder

For the ThunderPride asks:

@onereyofstarlight asked:

Scott and Brains and number 13 - Tell you how they'd celebrate Pride?

So I answered with a fic. Perhaps answers for one character more than the other, but there is alway room for more fic :D Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the reassurance :D

Just a scene, really, but more than I've written for weeks.

-o-o-o-

Scott yawned, drawing in breath enough to kickstart his brain again. A hand through his hair, he stood up from his desk and slapped the holoprojector off.

He arched his back until it cracked. Damn, he’d been sitting there far too long.

His watch declared it to be four in the afternoon. Honestly, he knew it from the angle of the sun hitting the villa, but whatever.

That watch also sprouted a tiny holographic version of Virgil. The recording of his younger brother was listing things on his fingers on what not to forget for their celebration in Auckland.

Scott rolled his eyes. Virgil was such a nanny nag at times.

Yes, yes, he could remember to dress correctly. No, he wasn’t going to bring a date this year. Of course he would bring a spare pair of shoes for Gordon, it was standard.

And yes, he would drag Brains out of his…

Scott blinked. He had Brains duty? Virgil usually did that. How the hell had Scott ended up with Brains duty.

He grit his teeth.

Grandma. Only Grandma would be able to manhandle their heavy lifter into doing this.

The guilty expression on tiny Virgil’s face was mixed with sympathy.

Yeah, so much for that comment on Grandma’s oatmeal cookies. For goodness sake, they had been hardtack. He was only being honest.

So she wrangled Brains duty onto him.

Scott wasn’t sure who he should be sorrier for, himself or Brains.

He sighed and let his arm drop, leaving tiny Virgil nattering away, hanging sideways off his wrist.

Brains duty.

Scott was a military veteran, in charge of one of the world’s largest companies, and commander of an elite rescue team.

He could do this.

Yeah.

Right.

But he was also one to look a challenge in the face and beat it with a baseball bat. So he strode off to the elevator to begin the search for his victim.

Perhaps ‘victim’ was probably too strong a word. He loved Brains like a brother and would put his life on the line for their genius without thought, but the last time he had Brains duty, he ended up with lipstick stains on his favourite suit and glitter everywhere.

Everywhere! He was still finding the sparkly stuff in One. Three rescuees just this last year had complained about the glitter on their clothes. He just couldn’t get rid of it. Even Virgil had tried.

Scott secretly thought that perhaps Virgil could keep Two cleaner than One simply because of Two’s lack of velocity. One mached the glitter into her infrastructure and the sparkly shit could never be removed.

Another slow blink as he stepped onto the elevator.

Maybe he had read too many reports today. The insanity had climbed into his brain.

Brains.

He hit the number for the man’s residence and let the elevator take him there.

This was a special time of the year for their friend. Pride was something that was supported by every Tracy and not just because it was the right thing to do. They had friends and family who were involved with the movement, but he had to admit that one Doctor Hiram Hackenbacker was particularly special.

In oh so many ways.

Scott had to admit that, their father meeting Brains for the first time? Had nothing to do with Thunderbirds.

More Thunderpride than anything else.

The entrance to Hiram’s home was as simple as was to be expected. The sticker slapped on the door by a much younger Gordon declared ‘Genius onboard’. It was partly torn at one corner where someone had obviously tried to pry it off with little success.

But the painting on the wall beside the door hinted at more of Brain’s personality than anything else. Half gears and construction, half pink and purple rainbows, Virgil certainly knew how to communicate with his brush.

Scott knocked on the door.

Beyond the wood, he could hear muttering and footsteps and the general chaos he had been expecting. When the door failed to open, he knocked a little harder.

“Brains, are you ready?”

“Scott?” More muttering and fussing behind the door before it was flung open. “You’re here?”

“Ah, yes, that I am.”

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Long false eyelashes darted up and down as Brains looked him over.

“Need to wear the uniform to fly. I’ll get dressed in Parnell.” And glitter, so much glitter. Brains had it on his cheekbones, in his hair and even in his nail polish. One suit down, Scott wasn’t going to trash another any time soon. His IR uniform was able to be incinerated if necessary. “You need any help?”

His friend stepped back. “How do I look?”

Scott’s eyes widened as he looked beyond the glitter. “Wow, you’ve really done it this year.”

“You think?” Hiram, or more correctly, Lady Thunder, twirled on the spot. Heels sparkled in the light beneath layers of taffeta and silk skirts, all in shades of startling pink and purple, sharpening to lightning whites and stormy darks. Full length sleeves disappeared into white gloves to contrast the voluminous dark curls on her head. Purple lipstick, pink eyeshadow and lightning bolts clinging to her earlobes wrapped her up in a dazzling display of personal power.

Scott couldn’t help but stare, his brain caught in admiration. Lady Thunder truly was a freedom for Brains. Joking about glitter aside, this was the one time of the year that it was obvious that their friend could be who he wanted to be. It was as if his costume removed all the pressures of his upbringing, academia, and life in general. Not that the Tracys had ever put any demands on their friend beyond the needs of occupational health and safety. He could be whomever he wanted to be, wherever and whenever as far as the brothers were concerned. But this one time of the year? Lady Thunder was truly let loose. They would fly into Auckland, to their chosen venue and maintain the mystery of who Lady Thunder actually was, and watch her sing on stage, dance, and really just enjoy herself.

It was a glorious sight to see. The world loved her, and really loved the mystery as well.

Honestly, Scott found it a true privilege to be one of the few who did know Hiram for who he and she was.

Really, pretty damned amazing on all fronts.

Despite the glitter.

The blasted glitter.

“Ready to fly?”

“Yes, yes, give me one more moment.” Lady Thunder disappeared into the depths of her rooms hunting something down.

There was no stutter when Lady Thunder spoke. Never a hesitation, never a founder, and honestly that said the most of all.

Scott’s lips curled a little to one side as the Lady darted muttering from one room to another.

He really was honoured to know the both of them.

-o-o-o-

[shastafirecracker]

4, 6, 17, 20?

oooh well this got long so I'll do a break to save everyone's dashes

4 a sentence or paragraph that you’re proud of oh man, I’m proud of a lot of what I’ve written, especially lately. I feel like a lot of the stuff that hits hardest only hits right within its larger context. I love a sucker punch sentence after a long, slow buildup. I was really happy with the bit with Nick walking into the lake at the end of “don’t stop if I fall”:

It felt so strange, but also like a need as primal as human touch being met for the first time after an eon of starvation. His whole body was a raw burn and the water that rose up around him was a cool compress. His hands, cracked and callused from a lifetime of abuse, drank up the moisture and grew soft. He kept walking.

I mean, how bizarre would it feel to have never been submerged in water? if your only contact with water had ever been via sinks and showers and maybe a tepid, cramped bath?

I’m really proud of a lot of my comedy moments, too. I think my comedic pacing and timing has gotten better over the years and I’ve always loved to write banter. But I think I’ve gotten better at structural comedy via the narrative also, not just funny dialogue, particularly for characters who would not say funny dialogue - like in “I’ve seen all the demons that you got”:

Vash came back into the shop stinking of cigarettes[…] Knives sprayed him with air freshener and retreated to his office while Vash spluttered. […] he told Vash where he was going, and Vash's eyebrows did a little dance. Knives was sorry he didn't still have the can of air freshener.

6 what character do you have the most fun writing? ok there’s recency bias happening here obviously, but I fucking love writing Zazie. they’re so fun. y'all won’t know why I’ve had so much fun with them until November but it’s just refreshing to write a chaos gremlin who doesn’t have baggage, lol.

17 do you think that readers perceive your work differently to you? what do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or motivations? until fairly recently I would have said that readers would be surprised to know that I’m asexual but then I found out that apparently aces who write smut are, like, the backbone of society XD but seriously, my go-to answer for “why does someone who doesn’t want to have sex write about sex” is just why would someone who doesn’t want to go to space write about going to space. why would someone who doesn’t want to commit a murder write a murder. stares directly at the stupidly massive quantity of speculative fiction ever written and then looks into the camera.

other than that uhhhh I have no idea? a few times I have had readers leave reviews like “oh wow, you must have experienced [thing] because you describe it so accurately” and I take that as a huge compliment because it means I’m a very good study of human character and psychology. but no, to those specific commenters in the past, I have not been a member of a cult, grown up on a farm and/or killed chickens to cook, nor had any transcendent group sex. thanks for thinking my life is that exciting tho! <3

20 tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble about (symbolism, character or relationship development, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes) ok there’s a big one in the big bang fic that I can’t talk about yet but I HOPE people see what I did there. and are just like “I see what you did there”

yes I love these!!! generally it’s wordplay or symbolic references that I just don’t know if anyone picked up on because no one said it in any comments… argh I’m struggling to think of a lot right now but in “I’ve seen all the demons that you’ve got” I really hoped that when I used the phrase “dose makes the poison” that people connected that all the way through Knives’ past work refining ricin and him having been dosed with ketamine (which is, like, a legitimate and important medication but the dosage is SO important)… ummmm also in “don’t stop if I fall” there’s just so many. I hope people grokked every usage of the lyric that the title came from - every time the words “don’t stop” were used in that fic it was very deliberate (including the extremely dubious consent sex scene).

one small one in that same fic that I hope someone/anyone caught was this sentence: “He remembered this ground like an old friend, this stained glass landscape.” because Wolfwood remembers the grounds of the orphanage as stained (with his own blood, with the attempts to water the seedlings when he was a kid), and because the ground is glass (sand, silicate) and therefore contains no nutrients, and because of the obvious religious connotation (but which doubles back on the other two as meaning, you know, a bright thing with no substance). I was happy with that sentence.

a bit of a character note that I cling to at all costs is that if I’m writing something post-canon, any version of canon, even my own AUs’ iterations of “canon,” then Vash WILL miss Knives and grieve him constantly. and he’ll feel a lot of guilt about feeling like he shouldn’t grieve Knives, shouldn’t be allowed to feel grief because Knives was so “evil” and Vash “won” and blah blah blah, and that every time someone celebrates the world not ending it is another twist to the knife in his guts. look up pyrrhic victory in the dictionary there’s a mugshot of vash. it just matters to me to always be clear that vash is not actually okay with how it all shook out in the end.

[themostvindictivemind]

Time to brainrot about something I guess since I'm being kept up with a migraine.

Now you probably wouldn't think it from looking at me, but I am actually very, very much deeply obsessed with linguistics. To an unhealthy degree, some might say. And one of my favorite linguistic concepts is "This is a stupidly hilarious pun in Language A, but it makes no sense in Language B" The prime example of this is an old Sumerian/Babylonian joke that at this point has had several thousand video essays written about it. You know the one: "A dog walks into a tavern. 'I can't see anything!' he says. 'I'll open this one.'"

And who could forget the Greek Philosopher Chrysippus? In one of the accounts of his death, it is said that he got a bit too drunk at a party and, upon witnessing a donkey eating figs, he said "someone should get that donkey some pure wine to wash down the figs!". He then fucking died of laughter at his own joke. Beause apparently that was the funniest shit he'd ever seen.

Now neither of those make sense in any living language or modern culture, but the fact that it was written down at all means it made enough people laugh for it to be worth recording. And it's fun to look at living languages and see what makes the native speakers laugh but still utterly baffles everyone else. Even better, digital archeaologists in a thousand years are going to have a field day with this post if they ever stumble upon it, so here are a few of my favorite untranslatable puns: Hungarian: A man is pulled over by the police. The officer asks, "Are you drunk?". The man replies, "No, sir, Ivett is my wife"

Japanese: Why dont Hawaiians go to the dentist? Good teeth.

Finnish: "A bar and a screwdriver". That's the entire joke, by the way. Set up and punchline, apparently both right there, and in the original Finnish it's only two words. Apparently it's a reference to something? I'm just going to assume this is a thing you say and people laugh, much like "omae wa, mou shinderu"

Spanish: What fruit is the most patient? It's a pear. So fun fact, my Aunt is from Mexico, and I decided to tell her this joke in the original Spanish (which as a consequence of having a Mexican aunt, I speak pretty well). And I shit you not that as soon as the words "es pera" left my mouth, she let out the longest, heaviest, most world-weary sigh I have ever heard in my 20 years of life, before returning to the tamales she was making. I guess she now knows that my pun game has transcended to include her native language, and in that moment she was preparing herself for the ensuing decades of Spanish wordplay

Another from Japanese because they are gods of wordplay: "7-Up, Pepsi, Coca-Cola, they're all types of what?" "Soda?" "That's right!"

Chinese: "Who is Mi's mother?" "Hua, because peanuts". I took Chinese in high-school and I can verify that this is the shittiest pun I've ever seen, but the reddit user who posted it says "I am yet to find a single Chinese/Taiwanese person who does not find it hilarious"

Aussie English (which I'm including both for English rep and because Aussie slang is so markedly different that Brits and Americans are still unlikely to get it): "What's the difference between fat and cholesterol? You can't crack a cholesterol".

Danish: One sign says to another, "Are you married?" The other replies, "No, I'm divorced"

AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE: French: "He wished to be Caesar, but he died as Pompey" -- George Clémenceau, commenting on the death of President Felix Faure (I refuse to explain this one or give any further context, go look it up)

Oh and side note. Obviously, no world leader can speak every language, so interpreters are a necessity for negotiation. And of course, world leaders and diplomats are going to try the lighten the mood occaisionally with humor. But for negotiations between most countries, that's hard to do, because there are very few puns with much cross-linguistic utility. Sure, you have that one joke about where cats go when they die that works in English and most Romance languages, but for some more serious negotiations, the number of puns that would make sense in both languages is pretty close to zero, and may very well BE zero. So the question arises, how do interpreters deal with that? Of course there are a lot of possible methods, not all of which are good or even remotely efficient. You could just translate the pun word for word, but as evidenced by the fact that that's literally what I did above, it's not gonna work that well. Explaining the joke also isn't gonna fly, because as we all know, the second you explain a joke is the seond it becomes Not Funny Anymore. The method I've found that I think works best is just to say "They have said a pun that doesn't translate well to English. Laugh now." Which is funny not just because it works, but because it works amazingly. That person on the other end of the table (who we are assuming doesn't speak a lick of English) has no clue what the interpreter is saying, and so must assume their joke was translated faithfully. Sure, their interpreter might know depending on how the whole thing is set up, but considering the vetting process you have to go through to be an interpreter for the POTUS , I highly doubt anyone is going to risk national security over a joke being left untranslated. Both leaders have a laugh, everything ends on good terms, and we avoid nuclear annihilation for another few weeks.

[cherryskyies]

Hey! I randomly thought about what would happen if the grabber let y/n out of the basement and live upstairs with him but catches the mailman or some neighborhood boy flirting/regularly watching her doing stuff in the garden or the kitchen. What do you think his reaction would be? He seems like the extremely jealous and angry type tbh

The Grabber x Reader // some hdcs

no warnings ; i decided to make this a new neighbor hitting on you kind of thing

Masterlist || Navigation || Ao3

He would be livid - you're his doll, his. Only he can look at you with hungry eyes, only he can touch your perfect skin and taint it.

I don't think he would make a dramatic scene, but he'd not-so-subtly threaten to lock him in his basement if he ever catches him messing around again.

Wouldn't blame you, not one bit. If Albert trusts you enough to live upstairs and roam freely while he is away, he trusts you enough not to engage in flirty conversation with others - which is another thing that further pisses him off.

You, obviously uncomfortable, are still getting hit on and stalked by that bastard of a man. Albert is the only one allowed to instill fear in your bones.

The lady next door, Marry-Anne as you’d gotten to chat with her, had died a few months prior and her home had gone for sale. Being such a cute little cottage, you and Albert had figured another old lady would move in, not a man in his late thirties who didn’t know when to stop.

Like most new neighbors, he had stopped by to introduce himself, seemingly shocked when you had answered the door.

He stood on the doorstep, reaching his hand out to shake yours with a smile. “I’m Allen, moved in a few days ago,” he greets, pointing his thumb to the house next door. “Didn’t expect my neighbor to be such a pretty lady.” 

Smiling, you shake his hand — his hold lingers longer than necessary. “I’m (y/n), nice to meet you.” 

It seems he doesn’t get the hint, thinking you took his flirting as mere kindness. “You got a boyfriend? House is awfully big to be just you and a dog.” and by now you’re creeped out — Samson wasn’t in view, meaning he had been watching you more than necessary to find that out.

Taking a step back, you close the door a bit and call the dog to your side. “I do, he’ll be home soon so I should get to starting dinner.” but he steps forward, attempting to push the door open, only stopping when he hears the menacing growl coming from your side. 

“Woah there, good doggy.” he tries, nervous laughter cutting the silence. “I can help if you want, I’m a good cook and would love to meet this boyfriend of yours.” his tone suggests you’re lying, but you don’t comment, the sound of tires on gravel stopping you.

Albert is quick to shut the car off, hopping out the door and lightly jogging up to you – he can see the distress written on your face. “What’s going on, my dove?” He stands partly in front of you, blocking the man's view. His attention turns to the man, skipping all formalities. “Is there an issue?” 

Allen clears his throat, clearly intimidated. “No, not at all. Just getting to know my neighbors,” he explains, cracking a smile. “Didn’t realize such a pretty lady lived ‘round here is all.” without realizing it, Allen had dug his own grave with that sentence. 

“Oh,” Albert blurts, taken aback by the straightforwardness of the man. “She is not just a pretty lady,” he starts, hands balling into a fist at his side — how dare another man think he has the right to look at you. “-she is my pretty lady,” he ends, adding emphasis on the my. Albert closes the little distance between them, smiling sickly with a finger pointed at the man's chest. “Come back here again and the only sun you’ll be seeing is through a bar covered window.” 

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

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

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

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

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

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

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hello, my request is for Niragi ✨ Y/N was popular in high school and always protect him when he was bully. When they saw each other in Bordeland, she saw how much he changed and keep her distance from him (which he hates), and she have an attitude that make one of the militants wants to attack her but Niragi protect her like she did with him bc he would never admit her but she's his only weakness

Yessss I’ve actually been wanting to write something for Niragi that sounds very similar so I’m glad you requested this! Thanks so much! 💕

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. The guys that bullied Niragi, Ann, Hatter, OC’s)

Summary: You and Niragi were best friends in high school. When you arrive in the Borderlands, you notice he’s not the person he used to be, causing you to avoid him. But unfortunately, he’s not happy about it.

Warnings: swearing, bullying, smoking, drinking, violence, threatening, bullet wounds, implications of sexual assault

Word Count: 7.1k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

4 Years Earlier…

The young boy grunted out in pain, having been hit with another rock right between his eyes. This one managed to crack his glasses, making his vision go all distorted.

His classmates around him roared with laughter. His heart filled with both anger and sorrow, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into the wind and out of his current situation.

“Aww, little Niragi has become quiet. Where’s those sarcastic remarks from earlier, they seemed to have left you,” his attacker mocked, adding a mean tone to his voice.

Just the usual. ‘Maybe they might end their target practice with me earlier today,’ he hoped.

He had grown used to it. He now expected to be dragged under the bridge each day on his way home from high school, being pushed around and roughed up. It’s not like he could’ve defended himself anyway. It was six guys against one, he never had a chance.

A short jab to the back of his neck broke him out of his thoughts. He groaned and doubled over, feeling as he was going to throw up. “Come on Niragi, fight back! It’s no fun when you just stand there,” the blonde student complained, striding over to the weakened boy. He gave him a quick kick to his side, making him fall on his hip harshly.

“Fuck off,” Niragi groaned under his breath, half hoping his tormentor didn’t hear it. But unfortunately, the small remark reached his ears.

“What was that? Did you just try to defend yourself? You’re going to have to use a lot more than just a few words you fucking loner,” the boy poked, giving Niragi another harsh kick to his stomach, making him become winded and choke on air.

He laid there taking their harsh words and hearing their mocking laughter ring in his ears. What did he ever do to deserve that?

“Hey Haru!”

The blonde turned his attention from his target to the direction of the voice that called his name. There you stood, by yourself with no one else. You obviously didn’t think the situation through before throwing yourself into it. You remained near the stairs that led down to below the bridge, holding something behind your back, but Haru seemed to not notice it.

Your heart skipped a beat when the group of high school boys all locked eyes with you, confused about what you were doing interrupting them.

“The fuck do you want Y/N?” the blonde, Haru, asked you in an annoyed tone.

You gulped before answering him, trying to sound as threatening as you could without your voice cracking. “Let him go! He’s done nothing to you, why are you giving him a hard time?” you spat at him, taking a few brave steps closer to the scene in front of you.

Niragi slightly lifted himself off the ground to look over at you. He recognized you from his social studies class. You both sat together at the back, and he always thought you were too nice for your own good.

Niragi sat up and shook his head, trying to warn you to stop what you were doing. He didn’t want to drag you into his own problems. He would’ve felt awful if you happened to get hurt while trying to help him.

Haru rolled his eyes and groaned at you. “Why are you getting involved? This is none of your business,” he retorted, walking closer to you with the baseball bat in hand. You watched with fearful eyes as he swung the bat around, obviously to threaten you.

Your heart quickened and you felt it pound against your ribcage dramatically. As Haru got closer and closer, you stood your ground bravely, still holding your hand behind your back to hide your weapon from him. You weren’t stupid enough to get yourself involved without having some kind of way to defend yourself.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or just stand and shake like the pathetic girl you are?” Haru tormented, a confident smirk growing across his face.

His comment made your blood boil. “Do you have a saviour complex or something? Why did you think you could help this son of a bitch?” he pressed, gesturing towards Niragi who was slowly rising to his feet with a worried expression on his face.

That was it. He was getting far too close to you for your own liking, so you decided that comment was the final straw. You rushed towards him and pulled out the large can of pepper spray from behind your back, aiming directly at his smug face.

He cried out in pain the moment the spray hit his eyes, dropping the baseball bat and covering his face with his hands. He tried desperately to rub the stinging liquid out of his eye with his school blazer sleeves, but it wasn’t worth the effort as it only made it worse.

You moved quickly and picked up the bat that he dropped, running past him towards the other boys that were still gathered around Niragi. They all held shocked expressions on their faces.

“You want some too?” you bluntly asked, thrusting the pepper spray towards them. They all flinched and stumbled to get away. You smiled, feeling empowered.

Haru and the others ran, thinking that beating up Niragi wasn’t worth being blinded for.

You turned towards the bloodied boy standing against the wall looking at you in shock. You glanced at him, giving him a friendly smile. He returned it.

After that, you two became inseparable for the rest of your high school days, spending every waking moment together. With your tough attitude and Niragi’s shy demeanour, you were a strange friendship to have been made. You thought you would always stay together, until one day Niragi went missing.

You never guessed where he may have ended up, until you were sent there yourself a few years later.

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

You breathed in a huge gulp of oxygen as the black bag was harshly pulled off your head. You tried to wiggle your hands to shield your eyes from the blinding sunlight seeping through the windows but struggled as you saw that your hands were tied to the armrests on either side of you. You groaned in frustration.

As the curtains closed so you could see probably, you saw a young woman with short black hair dressed in blue shorts and a white button up that was tied at the waist. “Sorry,” she began. “I forgot to close that before removing the bag.”

You looked around at your surroundings. You noticed that there were several more people in the room. The room was large, stretching down further until it came to a stop at the end where a large wall stood, conveying a huge spray painting across it that consisted of every card from a deck of cards. Some were crossed out, while a few number cards and all face cards remained untouched.

You whipped your head around, feeling restless from the number of eyes staring at you. You don’t remember how you got into this situation. All you remember is walking to a large light in the distance from your position on a bridge, being curious as to how it seemed to be the only building with electricity. Before you knew it, someone had grabbed you by the shoulders and shoved something over your head, making your vision go black and suddenly passing out.

You moaned in pain as you felt the back of your head throbbed, probably from when they punched you to knock you out.

“What’s going on?” you asked, struggling in your restraints more, trying to break free. An older man with glasses scolded you. “Stay still, Hatter will be here soon.”

Just as he promised, two large doors on your left burst open, revealing a man with a long decorative robe and dark glasses on. He had two other men beside him, both holding revolver guns.

“Ah! A newcomer!” he exclaimed excitedly, taking a big sip from his drink.

You froze, watching as he strides into the room further, making himself comfortable on a table in the centre of the room.

“A few of my militants tell me they found you sneaking around nearby The Beach,” he accused, pointing his finger at you.

You stared at him; confusion written all over your face. Militants? The Beach? What was he talking about?

After you didn’t answer him for a moment, he let out a big sigh and jumped off the table onto his feet, beginning to talk himself.

He explained the current situation to you. About how the dynamic at The Beach worked, and that considering the number of high-level cards you had on your person, you seemed to be the perfect candidate to add to the ranks of everyone there.

“And remember, death to the traitors,” he said, spite filling his tone. He had listed off the three main rules to you, each one adding more dread for you.

“Okay, all good. But I just want to say. If you want people to help you collect cards, kidnapping them isn’t the best idea. If it hasn’t hit you yet, that would make people want to help you less,” you smartly said, trying to stop your lips pulling up into a smirk.

All the heads in the room turned to Hatter. No one has ever questioned his motives to his face before, especially a newcomer.

Except, he didn’t get angry like everyone expected. Instead, he chuckled and held his drink out towards you. “Cheers to that, I guess. Have fun!”

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

The Beach was a lot more crowded than you expected. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you walked down to the bottom floor to the pool. People were everywhere; dancing, swimming, drinking, talking, smoking. It honestly couldn’t have been more chaotic than it already was.

You spent most of the remainder of the day becoming familiar with the layout of the hotel. You found the room that you had been assigned to. You managed to score a room that was a little above average. Hatter decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and gift you a higher number due to your high number cards. He thought it was only fair.

You were sitting at a table nearby the bar. The sun had gone down but the party continued on through the chilly night air. You shivered, not being used to being dressed in a bathing suit twenty-four seven. You were annoyed that you weren’t even allowed to wear some sweatpants to bring you some kind of warmth. You guessed you would just have to grow used to feeling the cold on your skin.

The warm beverage slipped down your throat, bringing you at least a little bit of comfort. You had made yourself a coffee inside, not in the mood for alcohol just yet. You honestly didn’t like drinking without having anyone you trusted around you, just in case something was to happen.

You looked around the area, taking in everyone’s faces to see if anyone appeared friendly enough to be nice to you. You needed to make some allies before the next game, otherwise you would be the first they would sacrifice.

As you scanned the crowd, your gaze landed on a particular male, who was sitting in a more done up booth nearby the pool. He was wearing a black and white checkered shirt with black skinny jeans. He had several piercings in his face, making him seem more threatening.

You squinted your eyes. Why did he look so familiar? You swore you’ve seen him before.

You kept your gaze locked on him, watching as he communicated with the people sitting near him. You noticed that a huge sniper rifle was tucked behind him. He must have been a high-ranking militant, being able to carry a weapon like that around.

He suddenly flung his head back and let out a roar of laughter at something the guy next to him had said. You froze in your spot.

You could recognize that laugh anywhere. That loud, obnoxious laugh that used to come from your old friend Niragi from high school. Your best friend that randomly disappeared.

You blinked a few times before looking back at him. His facial features did match and the way he smiled seemed way too familiar to not be him.

How could he be here? Is this where he disappeared to a couple of years ago?

Your heart filled with joy and a wide grinned grew on your face. That had to be Niragi! Who else would it be?

You quickly stood to your feet, almost tripping on your chair in the process and began making your way towards his position.

Although, as you did so, another man approached him from behind, leaning over the seat and tapping his shoulder. Niragi turned with an angered scowl on his face, but it turned to a smirk once he heard what the man had to tell him.

You stopped in your tracks and watched as he leaped over the backrest of the couch suddenly, following the man with his rifle slung over his shoulders. They were headed to the door that led inside, so you quickly followed, wanting to reunite with your old friend from so long ago.

“Niragi!” you yelled out happily, trying to get his attention. A few heads turned at your voice around you, but he didn’t manage to hear you over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers.

“Niragi!” you tried again, but this time you were blocked by a few people in your way. A small crowd gathered in front of you, not noticing you trying to get past.

Niragi turned his head at the mention of his name but couldn’t see anyone calling his attention. He shrugged it off and kept following the man. He had told him that a young guy was causing some trouble inside one of the halls, so he was going to take care of it.

As you finally managed to force yourself through the small crowd that interrupted your path, you saw the Niragi and the man had already made it inside. You ran straight after them. You were feeling ecstatic, ready to throw your arms around him and give him the biggest hug ever to make up for all the days you’ve been apart.

As you quickly made your way inside, you caught a glance of his checkered shirt turning the corner a bit ahead of you. You moved your legs as quick as you could, trying to catch up.

You turned the corner, about to yell out to him again, but your voice got caught in your throat when the sight in front of you met your eyes.

“You really thought you could get away with this?!”

Niragi had a young boy pinned to the ground, pressing his boot against his upper back and shoving the barrel of his rifle against his skull violently. The boy below him was crying and begging for his mercy.

You had a small flashback to high school, when you saw Niragi’s main bully Haru shoving a baseball bat against the back of his head, him lying on the ground battered and bloodied.

It was the exact same scene. Only this time, Niragi was the tormentor himself.

“Niragi, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he cried desperately, clawing at the floor trying to get away.

Niragi lifted his other boot and stamped it down roughly onto the boy’s hand. You covered your mouth as you heard a few bones crack.

He leaned down closer to the boy’s face and lifted his head up his hair, making him whimper in pain. “If I ever see you stealing from one of the executives again, this rifle will go down your throat and I won’t hesitate to blow the back of your skull out,” he hissed, sticking out his tongue and revealing the ball piercing he had.

The boy nodded, leaning away from Niragi as best as he could.

The man who led Niragi to the scene tapped him on the shoulder. “Alright that’s enough. You don’t want to give him PTSD,” he said calmly.

Niragi let out an annoyed groan. “But I was just getting started with him!” he whined, letting the boy out from under his boot and watching as he scuttled away like a bug.

You couldn’t move. You stayed put as the boy pushed past you, accidentally smacking into your shoulder in the process. Your eyes remained wide, staring at the tall man with fear written across your face.

This was not the Niragi you knew. It was not the Niragi you defended from those bullies. This was not the Niragi that used to be your closest friend, possessing a shy and timid personality. No, that Niragi was dead now. This was a devil standing in front of you. Nothing but a violent jerk that struck fear in anyone that he came across. What happened to him?

Unfortunately, you took a little too long to gather your thoughts and before you knew it, a rough grip was on your shoulders shaking you out of your daydream. You flinched in a panic as you saw Niragi’s angered face appear in front of yours.

“What are you looking at? You want some too?” he growled, shoving the barrel of his gun against your temple. You froze, staring into his dark, evil eyes, not knowing what to do.

You watched in confusion as his hard and angry facial features softened, rage turning into surprise, and even concern.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, taking his hands off your shoulders and backing a way a bit in shock. You kept your eyes on him. You wanted nothing but for him to recognize you a few minutes before, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing you to jump as his tone. A large smile grew on his face, only you viewed it as nothing but sinister and evil.

“Oh my god Y/N! Since when did you get here?!” he asked excitedly. He quickly moved towards you again and held his arms out to give you a hug, but you backed away and shook your head, making him frown.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me? It’s me! Niragi! Your best friend!”

You shook your head again, trying to get the message across that you didn’t want him near you. “Sorry Niragi,” you mumbled, trying hard to keep your tears in.

You quickly darted around the corner, making your way to the staircase to run to your room. You felt overwhelmed. After everything that happened today, finding out that your closest friend was now a murderer was the last thing you needed.

Your stomach dropped as you heard heavy footsteps following closely behind you.

“Wait Y/N! Please let me explain!” he tried to stop you, but you weren’t going to give him any time after that performance with the young boy.

“Piss off Niragi!” you yelled, climbing the stairs as fast as you could, trying to get away from him.

You turned onto the floor that your room was located on, sprinting down the hallway. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that Niragi wasn’t that far behind you. He had dropped his rifle, now trying to catch up to you empty handed.

You quickly busted through your door and immediately pressed your entire body weight on it. You silently cursed Hatter for not letting you have locks.

You heard him arrive in front of it, immediately trying to open it, but you stood your ground. He may have been tall, but there was nothing but skin and bones on him. He had no muscles to help him push through.

You held the door shut with your leg and reached for a chair to put against the handle so we wouldn’t be able to open it. You managed to secure it underneath the handle and stood back, watching as Niragi tried to open it again, but failing.

“Y/N please just let me in! Let me explain! I didn’t mean for you to see that!” he cried. You almost felt guilty, hearing as he started tearing up behind the door while still attempting to let himself in.

“Please Y/N! Let me in! I missed you!”

You covered your ears with your hands. You didn’t want to listen to his pleas, it would do nothing but make you feel bad for him.

That wasn’t Niragi outside your door, that was a cold-blooded killer that you wanted nothing to do with.

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

The next few days you spend on alert around The Beach, looking around every corner for Niragi. As much as you’ve missed him the past few years, that event that occurred with the young boy obviously showed that he was no longer the nice and caring friend that you used to have. If anything, he now has become what he hated most in his high school days, a selfish and careless bully.

Who wants to be associated with someone like that? Not you.

Although even though you managed to avoid him in person, his name was brought up wherever you went. A few people would approach you during the day and warn you that Niragi was looking for you. It only would make your anxiety spike, causing you to scatter off to a more secluded place somewhere at The Beach. Most of the time you would hide in your room, but on the few occasions you climbed to the roof or hung around Alice and Usagi (who you had befriended), you managed to keep away from the psychopath.

One day, you were sitting out on one of the tables out by the pool. It was still quite early in the morning, so there wasn’t a lot of people around. The air was quite nippy, making you shiver against the cold breeze. You rubbed your arms up and down, trying to warm yourself up. Unfortunately, you hadn’t grown used to the ‘always wear bathers’ policy yet.

You felt a gentle hand lay itself on your shoulder, making your eyes widen and your head whip around to yell at whoever had dared to touch you, but you held in your harsh remark when your eyes met with Niragi’s.

“Finally! I found you!” he exclaimed, a sickening smile spreading across his face. You leant away from his touch, scooting your butt along the seat of the table, trying to make distance between the two of you.

Niragi obviously didn’t like this.

“Why are you avoiding me like I’m some kind of disease? I just want to talk to you! I haven’t seen you in years!” he said annoyed, taking a seat at the table.

You eyed his sniper rifle closely, watching as he placed it down on the table in front of him. You felt somewhat relieved that the barrel was pointing away from you. Who knew when he would decide to use that vicious weapon against you?

You blinked, not daring to say anything. You wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. It was unbearably uncomfortable.

“Sorry Niragi, I have to go,” you stated, standing up out of your seat and moving to turn away.

Niragi gripped the back of your hoodie and pulled you so you sat down again, making you yelp in surprise. “No, you don’t. Stop avoiding me,” he growled, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort. You swore you were so close you could hear his heart beating. With a short shove to the side, you got out of his grip and stood up again.

“No, I do. I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you,” you bluntly said, becoming agitated from his insistent behaviour. Why did he think he could just tell you what to do?

He frowned, standing up as well. “Fine then, I’ll just come too. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk to me. You don’t get a choice.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly started walking away from him, hoping to at least get a head-start to stay away from him. You heard him jog up to you as you kept walking, seeing his shadow appear right next to you.

You became more and more anxious the longer he followed you. He started to get a little too comfortable in his movements, even having the audacity to touch your hair and comment on how much it’s grown.

It got to a point where you had walked all the way to the lobby about three times, realizing that he wasn’t even focusing on where you were going. You turned around just as he was reaching to grab your hand, looking him in the eye with anger written all over your face.

“Can you not take a hint?! Leave me the fuck alone!” you yelled, watching as his face contorted into shock at your tone.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you Niragi! You’re fucking insane and sadistic! Has it not occurred to you that you’ve literally become the soul thing that you hated in high school?!” you sassed, anger ripping from your words and smacking him in the face.

The few people in the lobby turned their heads at the sound of your arguing, being curious due to not seeing anyone ever dare to yell such vulgar words towards Niragi.

He tucked his hand into his jeans pocket and readjusted the rifle on his shoulder, almost looking bored. “Yeah? And what would that be?” he asked, licking his bottom lip while staring at your menacingly.

You cringed as his movements. “A fucking asshole! A little bitch that preys on those weaker than him just so he can project his own hatred for himself onto them! You’re pathetic Niragi, and it’s a real shame that no one has in this shithole has told you so. Because no one knows you like I know you, and I know that on the inside, you hate yourself more than anyone could ever hate you.”

You took in a deep breath, regaining your strength. You suddenly saw the irony in your words. You accused Niragi of projecting his anger onto others when you just did it yourself.

Niragi rolled his eyes, bringing his rifle down off his shoulder and fiddling with the bullet canister. You felt your heart stop from his actions, being afraid that he was going to use it on you.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me Y/N,” he laughed, glancing his eyes back up to you.

You grunted in annoyance. “Just leave me alone, please,” you begged, turning around and leaving Niragi to the peeping eyes still staring at you both.

He turned his head to everyone in the lobby. As he did so, everyone turned back to what they were doing, being afraid of being caught staring and yelled at by him.

“That’s right. Mind your own business,” he shouted out across the lobby to make sure everyone heard.

He watched you as you walked away, eventually turning the corner to go search for Alice and Usagi. At least they would give you some kind of security after what just happened.

He chuckled to himself, sticking his pierced tongue out and running it across his lips once again. “Just you wait Y/N, you’ll come running back to me soon enough. You can only keep that tough façade up for so long. Just wait until people find out that you’re all bark and no bite.”

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

You stumbled your way to the entrance of the hotel, head throbbing in pain and legs aching from the muscle strain you’ve put on them. You had arrived back from your game, being the only one that managed to survive. You didn’t feel well, both physically and emotionally, so you were planning on slipping into a coma for a few days to sleep off the pain that you were feeling at that moment.

It felt like a huge effort to even lift your feet. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so you weren’t even thinking of checking in on Alice or Usagi. You said to yourself you would look for them tomorrow. You were in too much of a bad mood to engage in conversation. You’d probably end up snapping at them, which wouldn’t be fair on them since they just completed a harsh game themselves.

As you were just about to enter through the large glass doors before a young militant woman with short blonde hair pushed through before you even had the chance. She managed to even knock your shoulder during the process, making you hiss in pain.

She looked you up and down with a disgusted expression on her face. “Watch where you’re going,” she spat before continuing walking inside.

You rolled your eyes. “Bitch,” you mumbled under your breath.

Her head quickly whipped around to meet your eye, an angered scowl on her face. “Excuse me?” she said in disbelief.

Your words got stuck in your throat. She wasn’t meant to have heard that. “I-I…”

“I-I..” she mocked you. You felt your adrenaline skyrocket. You’ve heard of this girl; she doesn’t take things lightly.

“Look I’m sorry, it just slipped out I promise,” you stammered out, putting your hands up in a surrender. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with her shit, you were grumpy and tired. You hoped she would let you off with just a warning.

But she had different plans.

She grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, dragging you outside again and brought you over to a small alleyway that ran along the side of the hotel. You struggled in her grip and protested the whole way.

Although, you stopped fighting against her when she shoved you against a brick wall and pulled a revolver out of her jacket pocket, pushing it underneath your chin. You froze and looked at her with pleading eyes, begging for her to have mercy.

“You’ve messed with the wrong person you bitch,” she growled, giving you a quick jab to the ribs. You yelped in pain, clutching your side. It hurt ten times more, considering you’ve already faced a horrific game that same night.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eye sockets.

She scoffed and smirked at you. “Wow, all bark and no bite huh?” she teased, throwing a kick to your shin, making you cry harder.

Her words angered you, making you see red for a short moment. You forgot about the revolver against your chin and gave her a quick punch to the jaw, making her head whip sideways.

She groaned, clutching her face and slowly turned back to you. You felt yourself fill with regret when you saw the look on her face. She looked like she was ready to kill you.

“Is that how you want it? Fine, have a hole in your foot. Maybe it’ll manage to get you and your attitude killed off in the next game,” she snarled.

Your stomach dropped at her words. Before you could even protest, she pulled away and aimed the gun towards the ground and blew a quick bullet in the top of your foot.

You cried out, kneeling and grasping your foot in your hands in pain, biting your tongue so you didn’t scream too loud. The pain of the bullet seeped from your foot and up your leg, spreading across your body.

The militant girl stood above you, laughing at your pathetic body lying on the ground. Your screams of pain brought her pleasure.

“Didn’t think this would happen when you bad mouthed me, didn’t you?!” she laughed, leaning down and pushing the gun against your head to threaten you more.

Another gunshot rang in your ears. For a moment you thought it was her and that she had put a bullet through your head, killing you. But then you heard a cry and saw the girl fall in the ground holding your shin with her head thrown back in a silent scream.

You were about to attempt to stand up to take this opportunity to run, but quickly jumped back down to the ground when another loud gunshot filled the air. You heard the bullet colliding with flesh as the girl flinched violently and cried out again.

You heard a menacing male laugh fill the air, and you glanced down the alleyway to see where it came from.

There stood Niragi, holding his sniper rifle out towards you both with smoke protruding from the barrel of it. A psychotic grin was painted across his face and you swore you saw his eyes shine red.

“Why are you giving my poor love a hard time?! Maybe think twice before you put a bullet through my property,” he exclaimed, chucking and walking up to the girl giving her a harsh kick to the ribs.

You felt like you were about to throw up and hearing some of her ribs crack from the collision of her chest to his boot did not help your nausea.

You rubbed your eyes and pressed your forehead against the ground. You wanted to wake up, like this was all some bad dream. Before you knew it, you were silently sobbing on the floor, tears rolling out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You felt two arms wrap around you, lifting you off the cold stone floor and into a warm chest. You winced and whined as the bullet wound in your foot shot a searing pain through your leg. Niragi shushed you quietly.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered, placing his cheek on top of your head.

His behaviour was giving you whiplash. One second ago he was acting like a maniac, shooting holes through a young girl, but now he was carrying you by under your knees and your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck.

You were exhausted, your body not even listening to you. You tried to move your leg to force yourself out of his grip but didn’t even have the strength to lift it. Your head was throbbing, and you could’ve passed out easily in his arms, but forced yourself to stay awake.

As Niragi walked past the lobby to get to the medical room, he attracted a few worried faces. Some even stood up to walk over and ask if you were okay. Everyone was terrified he had bad intentions with you, knowing how he was.

He ignored the few that approached both of you, rushing down the hall to escape them. He had to get there quickly so Ann could treat your bullet wound.

When he arrived, he pushed through the door harshly and called out to Ann with a worried tone. She stopped what she was doing and turned to the door to see Niragi holding you close to him protectively, blood dripping into the ground from your shoe.

“Shit, bring her here.” She gestured towards an empty table in the middle of the room. Niragi rushed over and placed you gently on the metal table, letting you lean your upper body against him.

Ann brought over some large tweezers, a cloth, disinfectant and a bandage. You flinched at the sight of the tweezers, moving to get away from her. “No, no!” you begged, trying to crawl up the table to get away, but Niragi grabbed your waist and pinned you against his chest.

“We have to get the bullet out Y/N, we can’t just leave it in there!” he argued, brushing your hair out of your face to calm you down.

You struggled against his grip as Ann held down your foot and carefully removed your shoe and sock. You looked down and saw a small hole in the top of your foot. How could such a small injury cause so much pain?

“Alright Niragi, keep her still. This is going to hurt,” Ann said shallowly, picking up the tweezers to try and remove the bullet.

“Yep.” You felt his grip on you tighten and he tucked his chin on your head. “Please just keep still Y/N, I’m here. It’s okay,” he cooed. His reassuring words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

Niragi turned your face so you were nuzzled into his chest. He knew that making you watch Ann take the bullet would do nothing but freak you out more, so he wanted to protect you from the sight.

You felt fine until the pain in your foot suddenly skyrocketed, making you let out a piercing scream. You bit your tongue to try and quieten yourself, but it didn’t do much.

Niragi frowned as he suddenly felt you go limp against him. He looked down at your face to see you had passed out, eyes shut tight and letting out soft breaths.

He smiled and brushed his fingers across your face. “So cute,” he mumbled.

“Well, that’s better. Maybe if we just knocked her out with a quick jab to the head, it would’ve saved us the headache of trying to keep her down,” Ann stated bluntly, causing Niragi to laugh.

“You know how this happened?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“A bitch shot her just outside the hotel,” he said with an angry tone.

Ann didn’t seem surprised. Events like that occurred a lot. She had removed a lot of bullets the time she had been there.

“What happened to the girl? Did she run when she saw you?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to. She copped two bullets into her body for doing that to Y/N.”

“Did you think maybe Y/N was the one giving her a hard time?”

“Doesn’t matter. I only saw her shoot the bullet, nothing else.”

“Fair enough.”

***********

You cracked your eyes open to a room that most definitely wasn’t your own. You groaned and sat up, wincing when the pain in your foot shot through your leg. Memories of yesterday filled your head. “I must have passed out in the medical room,” you said to yourself.

You scanned the room. It was much bigger than yours. The bed you were in was three times the size of yours, and this room even had a huge balcony. As you looked around more, you noticed that a bag of your stuff was placed near the closet.

You frowned. Why was your stuff from your room here?

Suddenly the door opened to reveal Niragi, walking in with a plate of a bread roll and a bottle of water. He saw you awake and smiled.

“Aw little mouse is awake. How’s your foot?” he purred.

You cringed at the pet name. “What’s it to you, dickhead,” you growled, getting out of the bed and standing up. You were wearing the same clothes that you wore to the game yesterday, minus the shoes and the jacket.

Niragi smirked and placed the food on a small table in the centre of the room. “Have you forgotten who saved your pathetic ass yesterday?” he asked, approaching you. “And also, don’t stand on that foot. It’s injured, you have to rest it.” He pushed on your shoulder lightly to make you sit on the bed again. He sat himself next to you and leaned towards your face.

You moved away from his face, hating how close he was to you. “Yeah, but how did you know I even needed help? And don’t tell me you were just going on a short stroll through the alleyway at eleven at night,” you said, scooting up the bed and leaning your back against the wooden bedhead.

Niragi chuckled. “What if I was? Are you accusing me of stalking?” he suggested.

You shook your head. “Why is my stuff here,” you asked, changing the subject.

Niragi glanced over at the bag full of your stuff on the ground near the closet. He turned back to you with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah! I forgot to say, you’re moving in with me,��� he said excitedly.

You felt your stomach drop. “What? I didn’t agree to this.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand again. You could only place pressure on one foot, so you stood on one leg.

“Oh, baby. I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re in here with me now, whether you like it or not,” he growled, reaching out towards you waiting for you to place your hand in his.

You stared at him, trying to see if he was joking or not. But from the serious look on his face, you didn’t think he was.

“I’m not staying in here with you. You’re a fucking psycho.”

You attempted to limp over to the door, wanting to escape Niragi as soon as possible. But you didn’t expect him to be so insistent on you staying.

A sudden arm around your waist spun your around and Niragi pinned you against the door, his face far too close to yours for it to be comfortable. “Did you not just hear me? You don’t get a choice love. You’re stuck with me,” he rasped into your face with a scary smile across his.

Your breath hitched and you turned your head away as he moved his face closer, trying to force his lips against yours. You felt helpless.

“Niragi please. Let me go, I’m sorry if I ever angered you,” you begged, pushing on his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “I promise if you let me go, we can go back to how we were in high school.” You were trying to do anything that would get him off you. Your heart was racing, and you were becoming more frightened by the second.

Niragi licked a long and slow stripe from your collar bone to the back of your ear. You cringed and sobbed at the feeling of his tongue and saliva on your skin. “Maybe I don’t want it like it was back then. Maybe I want more Y/N,” he whispered.

He tucked his face into your neck and nipped at your skin. He had your arms pinned either side of you and his leg was holding your good foot against the door. You couldn’t do anything to defend yourself.

“What have you become Niragi,” you sobbed after a short moment.

Niragi removed himself from your neck, leaning back to look at you. You stared into his eyes, seeing the same dark and beautiful orbs that used to make your heart race with love in high school, only now, they made your heart race with fear.

“I’ve become the real me Y/N, and you’re going to love me, whether you want to or not.”

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Just The Way You Are

also on ao3

written for the Monster March prompt list prompt: horns and fangs

Jaskier has never understood why people call witchers monsters. It's true, they're different, but so are cats and dogs and horses and people like them just fine. Jaskier just sees Geralt as Geralt and always has. He's no different than any other person he's met - a little more coordinated and he dies a little less easy - but otherwise the same. People are so cruel and dismissive of Witchers, but Jaskier is a firm believer that they deserve nice things as much as the next person, maybe even more, and so, he decides to take it upon himself to do nice things for Geralt. Like surprise him in Kaedwen when he comes down from the keep.

Only it turns out Jaskier is the one to get a surprise. He's never understood why people call Witchers monsters. Not until now.

He spots the hooded figure passing between shops and he's sure it's Geralt, but he doesn't want to approach until he's absolutely certain. So he sneaks between the buildings, trying to get ahead of him and catch a glimpse of his face. Maybe-Geralt pauses in front of a stall and for a moment Jaskier thinks he's stopping to buy something, so he sneaks away, but when he comes around the other side of the house, he stops dead.

His breath catches and for a second, he's certain that even his heart stops beating.

The man in the market is certainly Geralt, he knows that now, but sprouting from the top of his head are two thick, curled horns. He tries to call out, but his mouth is dry and maybe it's for the best because Geralt’s expression darkens suddenly and he sniffs at the air.

For the first time, Jaskier considers that maybe Geralt meets him further south for a reason. Maybe he doesn't want Jaskier to see him like this, he obviously takes measures to ensure that he doesn't. Fuck. He's gone and fucked this up, too.

Ducking back behind the building, Jaskier holds his breath, hoping that Geralt hasn't caught his scent. He knows if he has there's nothing for it, he's caught, but maybe-

"Jaskier."

Geralt's voice is low, right on the edge of a growl, and Jaskier winces. When he looks over, the hood is back in place, but Geralt's teeth are bared and they're barely teeth at all - at least the canines - more like fangs. He swallows hard and risks a glance up at his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt demands, moving at once to pin Jaskier's shoulders against the wall. Jaskier doesn't know what to say. He shifts uncomfortably, unwilling to look Geralt in the face.

It's not the first time Geralt's been upset with him, but this time Jaskier’s intentions were genuine, he just didn't think it through all the way. Or rather, he hadn't considered that after fifteen years together, there are still things Geralt keeps from him. Deflated, Jaskier wrenches out of his grasp and picks up the bag he dropped when Geralt shoved him. He's embarrassed, feels like an idiot for thinking Geralt might be happy to see him and now on top of it, he's intruded on something he was never supposed to see.

Geralt doesn't stop him from walking away and Jaskier tries not to think too much about that.

He books a room at the inn and doesn't bother to go down for dinner. He doesn't know what to do with himself, because if he can't travel with Geralt - and he certainly didn't seem like he was happy to see him - what can he do? Certainly not go back to Oxenfurt and admit to all his peers that yet again, he was a fool and thought someone cared when they didn't.

It's just that fifteen years is a long time. Nearly half his life. And for Geralt who rarely lets himself form attachments well, Jaskier had thought maybe it meant something to Geralt. It did to him.

Jaskier doesn't even bother to put his things away before flopping onto the bed and staring up at the beams. Geralt had been so angry. He had just wanted to do something nice, he should have known showing up himself would not be welcome. But maybe this is for the best, maybe everyone was right when they told him he couldn't follow Geralt around forever.

But he had wanted to. For the last fifteen years of his life, Jaskier has wanted nothing more than to have Geralt in his life, even if nothing ever comes of it. He's never been greedy, never wanted more than he thought Geralt would be willing to give. And look where it's gotten him? Geralt doesn't even trust him enough to show him what he really looks like.

Geralt lingers as Jaskier hurries off away from him, and he can hardly blame him. He wouldn't stay either if he’d found out the person he'd been travelling with was a monster. Jaskier tries to convince him he's not, but the thought has always been there, nagging at him. He just hasn't seen you, it says and Geralt knows it's true. He is a monster. Whatever happened to him during that second round of trials took away the remaining sliver of humanity. He'd tried so hard to hide it, to try and keep Jaskier for just a little longer, but Jaskier shows up here and how is he supposed to plan for that?

And what is Jaskier doing here in the first place? Geralt needs this time to himself. Needs a chance to hole up and file down the horns and the fangs, to make himself presentable. To visit the brothel before returning to the torture that is travelling with Jaskier.

Jaskier showing up here had thrown him off. He'd been overcome with shock and confusion and fear. Fear that Jaskier would see him like this and hate him. Fear that this one minor incident would ruin everything he's worked so hard for.

Fear had taken over and he had reacted... badly. It's no wonder Jaskier had left him there, no wonder he didn't want to be seen with him when the first time Jaskier sees what he really looks like, he practically attacks him. Fuck, he really is the monster everyone always says he is.

After everything Jaskier has done to try and prove to the world that Witchers have been given a bad name, that they're not mindless, emotionless killing machines, this is how he repays him. He has to fix this, if not for him then for his brothers' reputation and for Jaskier's peace of mind. The last thing he wants is for Jaskier to think he's in any danger with him. With a sigh, he pulls his pack higher on his shoulder and heads toward the inn.

He catches the scent of Jaskier's perfume as soon as he walks through the door and it tugs at something in his chest. It's bright and floral, but there's a tinge of despair, of sadness intertwined with it. It's not fear though, and while Geralt struggles to comprehend that, the innkeeper passes over a key. Geralt follows the directions to his own room, ridding himself of his pack and swords. He strips his armour, leaving him in only a thin black shirt and his trousers. Before he leaves the room, he pulls his travelling cloak back over his head and shoulders.

He finds Jaskier's room in a matter of minutes and stands outside the door. He's faced griffins and fiends and hired assassins and none have come close to the fear that surges through him now. Because if he failed there, he just died, plain and simple; a fitting end for a Witcher. If he fails now, he loses the person most important to him. He's glad Jaskier isn't the one with heightened senses, glad that he doesn't know how long Geralt stands outside the door before lifting to hand to knock.

But he does. And as soon as he does, Geralt’s chest tightens and he wants to leave. There's a shuffling from within and then the door pulls in and Jaskier is right there. It catches him off guard and before he can consider what Jaskier might be thinking, he blurts out,

"Let me explain," and then doesn't know what to say. What do you say? What are you supposed to say to a man who's known you half his life and only now learns you have horns. Geralt shifts, looking at him. Jaskier says nothing, but he moves aside, letting Geralt come into the room. The door shuts behind him and a wave of fear crashes down over him.

Jaskier looks sad, confused, hurt. He doesn't know where to start.

"I know you're mad and I understand-"

"You're the one who slammed me into a building," Jaskier chokes. The anger is there, Geralt expected it, but it's being smothered by something else, something stronger, like ivy around a sapling.

"I'm sorry," he winces. He is. He never meant to hurt Jaskier, not emotionally and certainly not physically. "I was... scared. I saw you and I didn't know what to do." His shoulders slump and he turns to look out the window, jaw clenched. "You're not supposed to see me like this."

"And why not?" Jaskier asks. The anger is toned down slightly, the other feeling still there but not so harsh. Geralt doesn't like it, doesn't like the feeling of it or the way it makes Jaskier's voice breaks and he wishes it would go away all together, but he doesn't know how to do that.

"I'm- Look at me, Jaskier. I'm a monster. I'm exactly what they say I am. A mutant, a freak." The anger scent remains, but it takes a sharp turn, twisting into something much more recognizable. Something he knows from tavern brawls and holding Jaskier back when they’re on the road when someone makes a snide comment.

"You absolutely are not. You're a liar and a terrible friend, but you're not a monster."

"What-"

"Why did you keep this from me?" Jaskier asks, that other feeling creeping up to regain dominance.

"I thought you'd-" Geralt drops his chin, staring at the floorboards between them. There's a crack down the center of one of them and he focuses on that instead of the sound of Jaskier's voice. "You were the only one who stuck around. You met me during the spring when they're shaved down and I- I was selfish."

"How?" Jaskier prompts. He sounds impatient, but excited, like he's anticipated what Geralt is going to say. But if he had, he wouldn't be happy about it.

"I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't want you to leave me. So I hid it from you. I became good at keeping them filed low during the warmer months and let them grow out during the winter. I didn't- it's why I never asked you to join me in Kaer Morhen."

Jaskier squints at him, disbelieving or confused, he's not sure, but the look is piercing and Geralt feels transparent under it, like Jaskier can tell every thought in his head. But he knows how that feels and this is not it. Jaskier is making assumptions if anything. Not that that thought is any less horrifying under the circumstances.

"So let me get this straight," Jaskier says, calmly, cooly. Too calm. "You once rescued me from the den of an incubus you thought would kill me if he tried to fuck me. Again, I might add. If you recall you walked in in the middle of it. You stopped me from leaving the bar with a vampiress one time because, and I quote, you don't need any help losing blood, and one time you intentionally gave me space to continue a quite lovely conversation with a, particularly amenable centaur. But you thought horns were a bit too much for me? Is that what I'm to understand Geralt?"

He doesn't know what to say to that. It's not just the horns, he supposes. But he doesn't need to give Jaskier another reason not to travel with him. Melitele knows there are enough of those already.

"Am I to believe that you're daft enough to believe that after fifteen years of traipsing over the continent with you, of writing you songs and cooking you supper and tending to your wounds- that horns would be the final straw? Geralt if you haven't noticed I've fucked dozens of people who are, to put it indelicately, much less human than you."

Geralt isn't sure how Jaskier's sex life is relevant, but he says nothing.

"I actually like them," Jaskier says, eyeing the hood. "Could I... look at them?"

Reluctantly, Geralt reaches up and pushes the hood back. The air feels cool on his head and he feels incredibly exposed letting Jaskier see him like this, but he shuts his eyes and ducks his head as Jaskier takes a step toward him.

"Can I touch?"

The air is punched from Geralt's lungs with that one simple question and he nods slowly, tucking his chin a little closer into his chest. Jaskier brushes his fingers along the curve of the left horn and the only way Geralt knows he's touching him is the way he hums with intrigue, similar to the way he hums at his lute when it's newly strung. He takes his time, reaching right down to the base and touching the more sensitive skin there. It doesn't hurt, but it ignites Geralt's instinct to protect himself, makes him feel like he should pull away, hide this from Jaskier again.

When Jaskier touches his head, he does. He's not sure what it is about the touch, maybe that he can fully feel it, but it snaps his restraint and he pulls back, breathless.

"Sorry," Jaskier whispers, "did it hurt?"

"No," Geralt admits, "just... unusual. No one's ever touched them before. Maybe Eskel when he helped me file them down the first few times."

"Why don't we," Jakier suggests, "come sit on the bed, take your cloak and your boots off. I'd like to get a better look at them. if that's okay?"

Geralt nods and Jaskier's hands are on him before he removes his cloak himself. He undoes the clasp with no effort, draping the cloak over his arm before directing Geralt to the bed. This is... not at all how he expected this to go down, but at least Jaskier hasn't turned him away yet. He toes off his boots and sits back on the mattress, leaning against the wall with his feet at the edge.

In a moment, Jaskier climbs up over him, making himself perfectly at home in Geralt's lap.

"There," he says proudly, "it's much easier to see like this and you won't' end up with a crick in your neck." Geralt remains silent, worried that he doesn't know the situation well enough to comment.

Jaskier's hands slip into his hair again, fingers looping around the base of both horns and he feels the faint tug and Jaskier slips up, following the curve of them with his hands.

"Do you brothers have them?" he asks. Geralt shakes his head.

"Second trials" he explains. "Lost the pigment in my hair and grew fucking horns."

"I like them."

Jaskier continues his ministrations, apparently happy to just sit and touch and nothing else. And Geralt relaxes under the touch, even if he can barely feel it. Jaskier isn't angry with him, doesn't hate him, and for now, that can be enough, But the air between them grows thick. He doesn't notice it right away, too preoccupied with Jaskier touching his horns, but the scent is what alerts him. Spicy, earthy, floral.

It's nice, he thinks absently, familiar and enticing. But he doesn't think too much about it. Not until Jaskier's little hums become softer, sweeter. The realization hits him so abruptly he nearly snaps his head back up, but he doesn't want to give Jaskier any more reason to leave him, although, maybe that's not as much of a problem as he thought.

"Are you... aroused by this?"

Jaskier huffs a little laugh, awkward, but not uncomfortable. "I just think they're sexy."

"Oh."

"Why, does it turn you on?"

"No," Geralt snorts, "I can barely feel it. If I could filing them down would be excruciating."

"Right," Jaskier realizes and Geralt can sense the thinly veiled horror in his voice."Anything else I should know about?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Geralt opens his mouth and pulls his lip back. He'd be horrified at the way Jaskier gasps if he couldn't smell the arousal wafting off of him.

"Fuck, Geralt, that's-" he reaches out, pressing the pad of his thumb to the point of Geralt's fang and smiles. It's a faint sort of thing, more amusing than outright joy, but he's fascinated and right now that's good enough.

Jaskier's finger slips along his bottom teeth, but Geralt shifts under him, dislodging him, and Jaskier's fingers brush his bottom lip before slipping forward, sliding between his lips and pressing against his tongue. Geralt's skin prickles just at the thought of it and when he looks up at Jaskier, he finds him wide-eyed and intrigued.

Their eyes meet and Jaskier holds his gaze. Then, cautiously, withdraws his fingers and runs them along the swell of Geralt's bottom lip, eyes dropping to watch the way they press against it.

"Geralt?" he whispers and Geralt realizes he's been so focused on Jaskier's fingers that he hasn't been paying attention to anything else. He's surprised to find he's got his hands settled on Jaskier's hips. His eyes flick down to his hands, then quickly back up to Jaskier's. The moment they meet again, his willpower snaps and he hauls Jaskier forward, one hand slipping to the back of his head to guide him.

The moment their lips collide, Geralt realizes this was inevitable. That one day Jaskier was bound to find out and want to know about them. His reaction though, Geralt never could have anticipated.

Geralt is... kissing him. It takes a second for his brain to catch up with what his body has already realized and he breaks the kiss with a jolt.

"You're not mad at me," he pants and Geralt just stares at him for a moment.

"No, I told you, I was afraid-"

"That I'd leave you." Jaskier finishes. Geralt nods. "I'd never leave you." He leans in again, trying for a softer, gentler kiss, but the way Geralt's hands press against him sends sparks across his skin.

Jaskier leans into it, parting his lips to deepen the kiss and Geralt's hand slips to his waist, one big, warm hand curling around his side. He pushes into the touch. It's not often he feels small or delicate with a lover, but Geralt does that for him and it's hotter than it has any right to be.

He parts his lips, deepening the kiss and Geralt moans softly against him. It's the most beautiful sound Jaskier has ever heard and he responds in kind, desperate to hear that sound again.

When they part again, Jaskier's breathing heavily and, much to his delight, so is Geralt. He leans back a little, far enough to look at Geralt's face, but not far enough to keep from touching him. He takes in the golden eyes staring back at him, the point of his teeth where Geralt's lips are parted, and the horns. Fuck, Geralt must be an idiot to think he wouldn't want him like this.

"Can I touch you- the rest of you?" he asks and Geralt grunts a yes, surging forward to hold him again.

Geralt gets both arms around him this time, lifting him off the mattress and rising to his knees. He shifts them so he's facing the head of the bed and as he settles, gently lays Jaskier back against the mattress. His head hits the pillow and Geralt settles between his thighs, slipping his hands over Jaskier's hips.

Jaskier reaches up to him, running his hands over Geralt's shoulders, down his arms. He follows the lines of his chest through his shirt, straight down to his trousers where he tugs the fabric free. His fingers slip beneath it and he sighs at the warmth of Geralt's skin on his fingertips. Geralt shudders against him and it gives Jaskier the encouragement he needs. Carefully, he curls his hands around the hem of Geralt's shirt, lifting it up and tugging it over his head.

He inhales sharply and Geralt pulls back just slightly. Jaskier is quick to explain his misunderstanding, slipping his hands around the back of Geralt's neck and sliding them down his shoulders.

"You're beautiful," he whispers.

"You've seen me naked a dozen times this week, Jaskier."

"Not like this."

And it's true. He's seen Geralt naked more times than he can count and he knows Geralt is sexy, knows the lines of his chest better than he should for never having seen them up close, but he's never seen him like this. Geralt is soft like this, so close, and Jaskier is allowed to touch him, Jaskier is allowed to look.

He brushes his fingertips over his nipples. Geralt gives a little gasp and his eyelids flutter.

"Wouldn't think it makes a difference," Geralt mumbles and Jaskier realizes he thinks he's talking about the horns.

"Oh it does, my darling, but I mean like this," he says, pulling Geralt lower over him. "Where I'm allowed to touch you."

"You're always allowed," Geralt mumbles, chin dripping to inadvertently give Jsskier a better look at his horns. He reaches out, slipping his fingers down to the point again. "I just... can't help the way I react when I'm too close to you."

"What do you mean?"

"You make me want things I shouldn't, make me think about things I can't have-"

"Bullshit. What shouldn't you have? What can't you have?"

Geralt lifts his head to look at him, meeting his eyes for a moment and then, "you," he says sadly. Jaskier doesn't give a chance to respond before Geralt continues, evidently relieved to get this off his chest. "You spread your affection so wide, in every town and village and I- it's different with me. You're soft and kind, but how could you want... you have your choice of any person on the continent, how could I-'' he cuts himself off with a sound that Jaskier would call a sob from anyone else.

"What are you saying, Geralt? You don't think I could want you? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

Geralt just snorts at him and moves to pull away, but Jaskier rolls him onto his back and straddles his hips.

"Do you know how wonderful you are?" He pushes his hands through Geralt's chest hair, pressing his fingertips into his skin. "How could I not want you? Do you see me following anyone else around?"

"You're always with someone, always inviting someone else into your bed-"

"Because you wouldn't have me. Or, I thought-" He shifts a little, and suddenly Geralt's hands are sliding up his back, pressing him down against him.

"You thought wrong," he breathes, and then he's kissing him again, soft and slow. One hand slips up into his hair and Jaskier sighs against his lips, letting his eyes fall shut.

He slumps against Geralt's chest, pressing his hands to either side of Geralt's face and he kisses him softly. He pours all of his affection into ever, every feeling he's never been able to share with Geralt, every little thought that he's thought would be too much for him. He rocks against him, pressing their bodies together. He wants to feel Geralt, to be as close as he can for whatever time he has with him.

But then Geralt is pressing back, arching off the bed and wrapping one arm tightly around Jsskier's back until they're so close Jaskier can barely move. He nips at Geralt's lips, pushing back the words that bubble to the surface, the words he wants so desperately to say. He's been holding back for years and maybe now he's allowed? Maybe now Geralt would be amenable - her certainly seems to be so far.

And Jaskier is so caught up in the thought, in the idea of being able to tell Geralt how he feels, that he doesn't realize he's being rolled over until he's on his back and Geralt isn't touching him anymore. He rises to his knees, breaking the kiss only to mouth at Jsskier's jaw and down the side of his neck.

Geralt nips at his collarbone, runs his tongue along the ridge of it and sucks at the skin just below. There will be marks in the morning, Jaskier is sure of it, and he's already itching to look at them. But Geralt doesn't give him much of a chance to think about it before he's nuzzling at Jaskier's neck again, the tips of his fangs just barely brushing against his skin. And Jaskier shudders. The motion goes through his whole body and a soft whine escapes his lips. How the fuck Geralt ever thought seeing him like this would be a bad thing is beyond him.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "I want you. Can I?"

"Anything," Jaskier gasps, "please Geralt, anything."

Geralt hums against him and meets his eyes for just a second before lowering them again to Jaskier's chest. He presses soft kisses into the skin, slipping down to nuzzle into his chest hair and Jsskier is preoccupied with the warmth of his breath and then Geralt's fingers brush over a nipple and he cries out, arching off the bed as Geralt pinches it between his fingertips. It's still gentle, still softer than he's used to, but it's Geralt.

It's Geralt touching his chest and kissing his neck and playing with his nipples. It's Geralt kneeling over him and Geralt breathing against his skin and it's... a lot. Automatically, Jaskier reaches out to him, pulling Geralt close so he can bury his face in his neck.

Geralt works a hand between them, slipping down to fumble with the clasps on Jaskier's trousers and then he's pulling away just enough to be able to undo the clasps. Jaskier groans as his trousers are shoved away, discarded off the side of the bed, but then Geralt is fumbling with the buttons on his own and a wave of heat engulfs him.

This is really happening.

In his 33 years, Jaskier has slept with kings and queens, counts and countesses, and he's never wanted someone so badly as he wants Geralt. It makes him a little anxious and he has to swallow back his self-doubt as Geralt shifts out of his clothes and settles on his knees between Jaskier's thighs.

Without breaking the kiss, he slips his arms under Jaskier's knees, pressing them back against him until he's leaning over him again. Geralt deepens the kiss, pressing down on him and Jaskier groans despite himself. Geralt's cock brushes against his hip and he's hard. It tugs at something deep inside him and Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt's neck, fingers pushing into his hair.

He shifts against the mattress and Geralt pulls his arms back. His mouth doesn't leave Jaskier's, even as he reaches for something off the side of the bed. When he settles again, he's got a bottle in his hand and Jaskier whimpers at the thought of it.

Geralt draws away, breaking the kiss with a hum and kissing down Jaskier's chest. He doesn't hesitate to wrap his mouth around the head of his cock and then he's bobbing gently, sliding halfway down his cock and slipping back to the head. Jaskier's eyes drop shut and he focuses on the feel of him, the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his hair in his hands.

When one of Geralt's hands presses against him, he hums encouragingly but doesn't move otherwise, afraid of breaking whatever spell he's under. He doesn't want to risk ending this, doesn't want to risk almost losing Geralt again.

Geralt slips a finger into him and Jaskier reaches up, smoothing his hands up the curve of Geralt's horns. He tries to keep steady, to keep from getting too worked up, but it's hard. Because this is Geralt, this is something he's wanted for years - what if it goes badly? What if it's terrible and Geralt no longer wants him?

A second finger presses into him and Jaskier gasps, startled from his thoughts. Geralt's eyes meet his and he looks worried, questioning.

"Is this too much?" he asks, "we don't have to-"

"No. No, I want you, I want this. Please." Jaskier's fingers slip to the base of his horns, brushing almost nervously where the flesh meets horn. "I just want to be good enough for you."

"You are," Geralt says immediately, "more than enough."

Their lips met again and Geralt's fingers press in a little more firmly. Heat rolls up Jaskier's spine, but he's not aching for it, he's not desperate to come. His cock is hard against his hip, but he wants to be close to Geralt. He wants his arms around him, wants to wrap his legs around Geralt's waist and just press himself against him. He wants the press of skin on skin, unhindered by clothes or blankets of any number of things that have kept them apart in the past.

He just wants Geralt and it doesn't matter how.

When Geralt finally pushes into him, Jaskier groans at the stretch. It's good, so good, and Geralt presses down against him again. Jaskier takes the opportunity to wrap around him and they move together easily, as though they were built for each other. Geralt kisses and nips and Jaskier loves so deeply he can't cope.

He hates the tears that bead in the corners of his eyes, hates the emotion that threatens to tear him apart and he buried his head in Geralt's neck to distract himself. Before he can get his arms around him properly, Geralt pulls back. As soon as he sees his face, Geralt's features pinch together.

"Jaskier-"

"Fuck," Jaskier whines weakly, "Geralt."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jaskier whimpers. He reaches up to Geralt, wanting to pull him close again. He doesn't want Geralt to see him, doesn't want him thinking he's too much, too emotional.

Geralt guides him back against the mattress and detangles their arms, leaning up on one elbow. Jaskier is embarrassed. He's a renowned lover, known for giving his partners the greatest pleasure and in the face of Geralt and one tiny bit of genuine affection, he breaks down.

He crosses his arms over his face but Geralt just wraps gentle fingers around his wrists and pulls them back.

"Hey," he whispers and there's worry in his voice that only makes Jaskier shudder. He chokes on a sob and turns his face, pressing his forehead against Geralrt's wrist.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, but Geralt just brushes his thumb over his forehead.

"For what?"

"I'm... " he doesn't know what to say. A mess? too much? not good enough for you? "okay."

"Jask, you're crying. Is it me?"

"No," he blurts, "no, Geralt, I-" a gentle thumb presses beneath his eye, wiping a tear away and that only makes it worse. "I love you," he whispers, so quiet he's sure no one will hear it. But Geralt, aside from his horns and his fangs, has sensitive hearing.

"And that's... bad." He says. It's not a question.

"No. No, but I- I fucked up. I almost lost you-"

"Jaskier," Geralt says softly, "you didn't. I was afraid you'd hate me like this, that you'd see me as the monster everyone else does. I was angry because I thought I was going to lose you."

"I know I'm a lot to put up with-"

"You're not."

Jaskier huffs a wet laugh. "I talk too much and I get in trouble you have to get me out of and I'm too slow and too annoying and too-" Geralt quiets him with a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

"Once," he says, "at a tavern in Posada, I would have believed those things. I don't anymore." He brushes his fingers down Jaskier's side, settling his palm against his hip. "If I really thought you were too much, I wouldn't be here now." He dips down, kissing him on the mouth again.

Jaskier can't help but sink into it and when Geralt shifts back on top of him, Jaskier winds around his neck again. Geralt breaks the kiss, kissing Jaskier's jaw and down his neck.

"We can stop if you want?"

"No," Jaskier mumbles.

"What do you need?"

"Just... you."

"Yeah," Geralt breathes, "yeah, okay."

He shifts his hips, resuming his slow but steady rhythm and Jaskier clings to him. He can't believe he came so close to losing Geralt tonight, to losing him and losing this forever. A swell of emotion threatens to rise up again and overwhelm him, but he kisses Geralt, holds him tight and focuses on the weight of his body against his own.

His fingers trail absently around the base of a horn, bumping over the uneven skin there. The horns themselves are smoother than expected, probably because they're so fresh, but he likes the sensation of them under his fingers and Geralt seems pleased about it.

Sparks skitter across Jaskier's skin as Geralt's pace quickens and he gaps against his mouth as Geralt rocks into his prostate. Even when Geralt's lips aren't on him, they hover above his skin, hot breath creating goosebumps in its wake. And when he kisses him, it seems a tremor audit through Jaskier's body, making his heart beat quicker and his toes curl in the sheets. He's never felt this way with anyone, never found himself chasing closeness before an orgasm, but he likes it.

He likes the sleekness of Geralt's horn under his palm, the tickle of his hair as it brushes his bare skin, the tackiness is dying away on Geralt's skin. All of it. He draws him close again, just as Geralt's hips give a little snap and it knocks the breath out of him.

"Can I touch you?" Geralt asks and Jaskier knows he won't last long with Geralt's hand on him, but for once that doesn't seem important.

"Please," he whispers and Geralt's palm slips up the underside of his cock, making him shudder.

"Good?" he asks and Jaskier just nods, a small sound escaping his lips as he rocks his hips into the touch.

Geralt's fingers wrap around him and it's like a wave of heat washing over him. Jaskier's entire body burns for him, arches off the bed to get closer to him. Geralt takes him apart so easily and it's only a matter of minutes before he's gasping for it, groaning his need into Geralt's shoulder.

Geralt rocks into him, stroking him in time with his thrusts and when he kisses him again, Jaskier shatters. He groans against Geralt's lips, rocking back onto him as he spills between them. His thighs shake and his arms feel like noodles around Geralt's neck, but he holds him closer anyway.

He's still breathless when Geralt's hips snap forward again and Jaskier can tell he's close in the way he shudders as he rocks into him. He tangles his fingers in Geralt's hair, kisses him hard. He wants this to be good, wants Geralt to know that he's safe here, he can be happy here.

When Geralt comes, it's with a quiet moan against Jaskier's chest and he stays there for a moment, breathing against his skin. When he pulls away, he wraps his arms around Jaskier's shoulder, pulling him onto his side so they're still facing each other. Neither speaks and Geralt kisses him again, slow and gentle. His hand comes up to cup the back of his head, and Jaskier hums softly against his lips.

They part again on a shaky breath and Jaskier bumps his forehead against Geralt's. He doesn't want to ask him to stay, he's still too afraid to hear him say no. But he doesn't want Geralt to go. It's already hard enough losing him over the winter, he can't bear the thought of being parted any longer than that. He shuts his eyes and presses close, pacified by the way Geralt's arm tightens around him.

"Next winter," Geralt mumbles, abrupt, "come with me. There's nothing left for me to hide and I... miss you over the winter. I worry about you." Jaskier's heart soars, despite his best efforts to keep his emotions restrained.

"You'd want me there?" he asks, "with your brothers?"

"Yeah. And they've been bugging me about it since I first mentioned you."

"You talk about me?" Jaskier asks, pulling back to look at him. Geralt tips his head up, golden eyes shining even in the dim light.

"Of course. You're-" he pauses as though unsure of what exactly Jaskier is. "I love you, too," he whispers at last, eyes lowered.

It feels like a dream, like any moment Jaskier will wake up and be back hiding behind that building or worse - alone in his room. But when he kisses him, Geralt is warm and solid against him and Jaskier buries himself in that warmth.

He will never, could never, understand how anyone can see this man as a monster.