#i’m watching bones through with a friend who has never seen it and she’s questioning his motives re: arresting max

[heronstairs]

no one understands FBI special agent Seeley Booth like i do

[daycourtofficial]

Snapshots of Time

Summary: your relationship with Azriel, as shown through your relationship with Cassian.

Author’s note: this is based on this incredible request. Honestly I could do this forever I’m OBSESSED with Cassian I need to be his best friend like now.

-

The hulking Illyrian general looked down at the woman in front of him, examining her outstretched hand. Azriel stood behind her, watching Cassian with curious eyes.

No one knew how this was going to go, what to expect. Azriel never brought girls home, let alone asking Cassian to meet one of them. The moment clear in his mind, as Azriel walked into the dining room to eat breakfast with Cassian.

The shadowsinger sat down, setting his morning coffee, eggs, and bacon in front of him. Cassian looked at him, nodding in greeting as he shoveled some cantaloupe into his mouth.

His brother spoke first, “are you doing anything after lunch?”

Cassian thought about his day, he had dinner plans, but nothing for the afternoon. He shakes his head no, his mouth still full of cantaloupe.

“Good,” his brother tells him, “I want you to meet someone.” Cassian stops chewing, surprised at this. “You want me to meet someone?” Is what he tried to say, but with the cantaloupe blocking his throat, it came out more like, “boo bant me bo beat bomeone?”

Despite the confusing question, Azriel knew what his brother meant and sighed. “Yes, I’ve been… seeing someone.”

His tone conveys he doesn’t want this conversation to continue, but Cassian will not let him get away without a few answers. “You’ve been seeing someone?”

“Yes,” Azriel states, “and she wants to meet you.”

Cassian finally swallows the hunk of cantaloupe, “so it’s a her?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows. Azriel swallows his bite of eggs, disdain coating his voice. “If you can’t handle it-“

Cassian cuts him off, “Oh, I can handle it, brother. I assure you.”

He looked again at the lady in front of him, a smile adorning her face, making her look so soft, so warm.

He can see why she has Azriel wrapped around her finger - she’s been in front of Cassian for all of thirty seconds, telling him her name and offering her hand to shake, and he already finds her incredibly endearing.

But he also wants to give both of them a hard time. As nice as she may look, this is serious for his brother. His brother, who has always felt so undeserving of love, bringing someone to meet his family.

Well, to just meet Cassian. Azriel figured slow introductions was the best way to go about this, and he started with Cassian. A decision Cassian can tell Azriel is starting to regret.

“Ah,” he takes your hand, giving you a bone crushing handshake. You take it like a champ, he notes, as he calls you by the wrong name. It’s close to your own name, but not exact.

You correct him, prompting him to call you a different, incorrect name. He looks at you expectantly, the eye contact you share telling Cassian that you know exactly what he’s doing. And you don’t back down.

“That’s right, Calliope.” You respond, “nice to meet you.” You smile at him, a sweet smile that he sees through.

Wonderful.

-

Azriel had asked Cassian if it would be okay if he brought you to training. It was something you seemed interested in and, Azriel admits to Cass, if things continue he’d prefer you to have some knowledge of defending yourself.

Cassian had seen you a time or two since your first introduction, the two of you continuing to use incorrect names for each other. He agreed to let you come, as long as he could help your training.

You showed up to training the next morning, a teasing smirk making it’s way to Cassian’s face as you approach.

“Behave,” Azriel warns his brother, as he approaches you. You smile as he gets closer, standing on your toes to kiss him quickly.

Cassian’s desire to tease you both falters for a second, wanting nothing more than to make a comment about the red finding its way up Az’s neck, heating his cheeks. The general goes to say something, stopping as he watches the way you look at his brother. Your eyes show such kindness, such warmth, even from yards away.

You walk up, greeting Cassian as you come up to him. “Good morning, Cassandra.” He chuckles, throwing an incorrect name back at you. “You ready to learn?”

You beam, “yeah! Hopefully you’re a good teacher - maybe I’ll surpass you and take your job.”

You start shadow boxing around him, pretending to hit him. Cassian laughs at you, as Azriel looks at you fondly, your back turned to him.

The two of them lead you through a variety of stretches, they teach you how to throw a punch, and where to strike an opponent for the most impact.

“Can I spar with you?” You ask Cassian, both of the males eyebrows shooting up at your request. “I’d ask Azriel, but I don’t want to ruin his pretty face,” you say, cupping his face in your hands.

Cassian grumbles as you two walk towards the clearing, “I’m pretty too…”

You laugh, as he turns to face you. “Okay, sunshine, let’s spar.”

You two circle each other, and Azriel watches from the sidelines in both amusement and to ensure you don’t get hurt. Cassian throws a lazy punch at you, which you block flawlessly, the shock etching his face. You throw a piss poor punch on purpose, wanting him to lower his guard. He blocks your punch easily, and you two continue in this half-assed dance for a few minutes, until you decide to go all out.

You fake a left jab, causing Cassian to move to defend his left side, leaving the right side of his face open for your fist to collide with.

The impact creates a bone breaking sound that doesn’t come from your fingers. Azriel sucks in a breath, running towards the two of you as Cassian falls to the ground.

He looks up at you, the blood dripping down his face. “Where’d you learn that, sunshine?” He laughs, spitting blood out in the ground.

“I have three older brothers,” you smile down at him. “They taught me how to throw a punch.”

You offer a hand, and he takes it, laughing as you help him up.

-

Cassian’s wings were flapping so hard, so fast. He was exhausted, the events of the day catching up to him. Determination to get to you was keeping him moving.

He vaguely knew where you lived, Azriel mentioning stopping by to see you after going to a bakery. He lands in front of the bakery, and does the only things he knows how to: he starts knocking on doors.

Various Velaris citizens open their doors, ready to be angry at whoever is pounding on their door in the dead of night, until they see the High Lord’s General, asking if anyone with your name or your description lives there or if they know you. Eventually he reaches a door where the woman inside tells him that you live a few doors down, with the green door and flowers on your doorstep.

He approaches the door, knocking until you open the door, only allowing a small sliver to see who is there. “Cassian?” You ask, opening the door wider. He can tell he woke you up, due to your messy hair and sapphire blue nightgown.

You wake up at the realization of Cassian being at your door, immediately asking him if Azriel’s okay. Cassian shakes his head, asking if you want to come see him. You ask how dire it is, and he says you have a moment to change into actual clothes. You find some sweatpants and a shirt Azriel had left at your place, and allow his brother to scoop you into his arms as you two fly towards the House of Wind.

The flight is silent, both of your anxieties practically palpable through the air. You two eventually land, Cassian leading you directly to Azriel’s chambers.

You had been a frequent visitor to Az’s room in the other residences, but you’d only been in the House of Wind once. You’re thankful for Cassian’s lead, following close behind him.

You wind through the halls until Cassian stops in front of a door, knocking softly. He waits a moment, then enters, no response from the other side. He opens the door and Rhys is present, turning to look at the both of you as you enter the room.

You take in Azriel’s form on the bed. He’s asleep, you hope, watching his chest, watching it rise and fall slowly. You match your breathing with his, the deep breaths calming you, the only way Azriel can soothe you right now.

“How- uh- how bad is it?” You ask, unable to look away from his form on the bed. You approach slowly, taking in the injuries as you get closer. You’re a few feet away and you can see the deep bruising on his face, his chest, his arms. You shutter, his knuckles covered in blood.

Rhys grabs your shoulders softly, “he’s going to be okay, sore, but okay. He was asking for you, though.”

You nod, Azriel’s request warming your heart a bit. He always came to you after missions to help bandage his wounds. You smile a bit at the fact that whatever the hell happened to him out there didn’t stop him from wanting to continue that tradition.

Cassian is the first to move, as he moves two chairs to sit next to Azriel’s bed. He gestures for you to sit in one of them, as he takes up residence in the other one.

Rhys rubs your shoulders softly as he asks, “do you want some tea? Water? Anything?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Some tea would be nice, thanks.”

Azriel woke up feeling incredibly groggy and like he had fallen from a balcony. He heard laughing, and he kept his eyes closed to figure out what was happening near him.

The room smelled like his room, the sheets felt like his, and he almost snapped his eyes open at your laugh.

No, not just your laugh, but the loud boisterous laugh of Cassian and the soft amused laugh of Rhys.

The three of you were talking about him.

“The morning he told me he wanted us to meet, he was shaking like a wet dog,” Rhys said, amusement lacing his tone.

“No hr wasn’t,” you say, shock in your voice. “Oh, yes,” Rhys replies, shifting in his seat. “He’s never brought anyone home before, and he’s never talked about anyone before.”

Cassian snorts, “I almost caught him with someone a century ago. I swear I heard something, but when I came in poof they were gone.”

You laugh, the sound filling Azriel’s chest with warmth. “He had told me that you two wanted to meet me!”

Rhys laughs, “he told us you wanted to meet us!”

You all laugh, as Azriel stirs slightly. He opened his eyes to find Rhys in a chair on his right, with you and Cassian taking up two chairs on his left.

“Don’t listen to anything they say,” Azriel rasps, coughing from how dry his throat was. “They’re both liars.”

Azriel closed his eyes again, but he felt your hand wrap around his, and he could see your face in his mind. Your hand squeezed his, and despite the injuries, he couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi Azzy,” Cassian responds, earning a groan from Azriel.

You want to touch his face, but you’re worried you’ll hurt him.

“Well, now that you’re awake, we’ll see ourselves out,” Rhysand told him, offering him a wink as his brothers get up and begin moving to the door.

“A woman’s love is the best medicine,” Cassian says.

“You assholes aren’t even going to see how I am? After staying all night?”

Cassian laughs, “oh, we didn’t stay here out of concern over you. We stayed to keep her company.”

-

Looking at where you and the general stood, you regretted the events leading you here. “I’m just saying he’d love this little black number.”

Cassian currently had an arm draped around a mannequin, wearing the least amount of fabric possible.

“Cassian,” you hiss, embarassment leaking out of you, “why are we here?”

“You asked for help for a gift - this is my help!” He says, gesturing broadly around the lingerie shop. You hiss at him, “this isn’t what I had in mind-“

A chipper voice cuts you off, “good morning! How are you two today?” You turn to find a pretty shopkeeper looking at you and Cassian, her eyes lingerinf on his biceps wrapped around the mannequin. You swear you see him flex a little.

Cassian looks at you with a shit-eating grin as he tells her, “great! I’m helping her find a gift for my brother.”

She looks between you two, confusion on her face. “Is it for him to wear? We have a men’s section-“

“No, no,” Cassian says,”I’ll come back another day to check out that section. We’re looking for something for her, preferably in black or blue.”

He smiles at the shop associate, and she blushes at his attention. He winks at her, as she turns around to find you some options.

“Cassian, I’d prefer it if you weren’t aware of my lingerie choices.”

He raises his hands up, “I can close my eyes if that’ll make you feel better.” He places his hands over his eyes, “just guide me around the store, please, so I don’t fondle any mannequins.”

-

“I know something you don’t know,” Cassian coos at you, swaggering into the room. You’re seated in the library, enjoying a nice book by the fire. At least, you were.

“Hi Cass,” you say, taking a sip of your wine. He plops down next to you, stretching his arm behind you on the couch. You almost recoil at his smell, clearly coming in straight from training or fighting or something.

“Ugh, Cass, can you shower before showing up? You have a smell.” You fake gag at him.

He waggles his eyebrows, “some call it a musk,” he replies, “and I know you like it when Azzie is all sweaty after training.”

You roll your eyes, moving a little away from him. “Yes, but he’s hot. It’s different.”

He gawks at you. “It’s not different!” He insists, “I’m hot!”

You sigh, accepting the turn in conversation. “Yes, but not when you smell like that.”

He waggles his eyebrows, “so you do think I’m hot?” You slap him across the chest. “Yes, you’re a very handsome boy. Now what did you know that I don’t?”

Cassian pauses, trying to remember why he came in here in the first place. Then he remembers, smiling at you. He leaned back, placing his hands together on his stomach.

“Ah, yes. I know something you don’t know.”

You huff, “yes Cassian, and I know plenty that you don’t know.”

“Yes but my knowledge is about a certain pretty shadowsinger.”

You eye him, his grin spanning his whole face. “What do you know?”

Cassian looks at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. “What’s it worth to you?”

You push him, “tell me.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Value?”

You sigh, “I’ll set you up with my friend Varia.”

He lifts an eyebrow, “promise?”

“If your information is valuable enough.”

“Oh I can guarantee it.”

“Then we have a deal. What do you know?”

Cassian looks around the room, to ensure you’re truly alone, including the presence of any nosey shadows. Once he feels confident you’re truly alone, he tells you, “I saw him in a jewelry store today.”

You pause, “okay?”

“And your birthday isn’t for six months, solstice was two months ago, your anniversary is in 8 months, so…”

He motions his hands, hoping you’ll get what he’s insinuating.

“He’s preparing?” You ask. The general rolls his eyes. He grabs both of your arms, shaking you as he tells you, “he was looking at rings!”

You gasp, “no you did not! Did you see any? What did they look like? Do you think they’d fit my fingers?”

Cassian rolled his eyes, “well he wasn’t shopping at Jewelry for Giants”

You hit him in the chest with a pillow. “No, I didn’t see any of them, but he was there for quite a while. Pretty sure the shop assistant showed him everything he had in the store.”

You squeal, launching yourself onto Cassian in a hug. “This better be real, valid intel Cassian or I swear I’ll cut off your testicles and feed them to Bryaxis.”

He eventually leaves, having had enough of your squealing and questions about rings, opting for a glass of milk before bed. As he’s in the kitchen pouring a glass he hears from behind him, “Cassian I know you saw me.”

He flinches, but just barely, causing the shadowsinger to smile just a touch. “Saw you where?”

Azriel sighed, “stop playing dumb with me Cassian, you saw me at Winston’s Jewelry.”

Cassian’s surprised at Azriel’s forwardness, his lack of dancing around subjects a skill Cassian wishes he shared. “Yes, I did. So? I assumed you were buying a birthday gift.”

His brother doesn’t buy the fib. “You know exactly what I was looking for in that store.”

“Mm, jewelry?”

Azriel closes his eyes, counting to ten, to keep himself from leaping across the kitchen and stabbing his brother. He keeps his eyes closed as he says, “I bought a ring.”

“This is so sudden, brother, I mean how could I say yes when we haven’t even spent a night together?”

Azriel rubs the bridge of his nose, annoyance still there from the moment he saw Cassian watching him. “Not for you, for her.” He pauses and Cassian doesn’t try to fill it, waiting for Azriel to continue.

Azriel sighs, letting the truth fill the room. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Cassian cheers in delight, excitement coursing through him.

“How are you going to do it? A bunch of flowers everywhere? Oh, oh, put the ring on your cock and -“

Azriel balks at Cassian, the headache coming back. He goes to walk away, but stops. “Just - don’t tell her you saw me. Please?”

Cassian pales, but agrees, and watches his brother head towards his room. Once he hears the click of his door, he races across the house to the library, where you’re still seated.

“Don’t-“ he pants, “mention anything about rings.” He pants again, surprisingly winded. “I didn’t tell you anything.” He turns to walk away, but he hears you say, “okay?” before he walks out.

-

You were spreading olive oil across the grape tomatoes as you heard your door open. You didn’t hear movement as your husband walked into the kitchen, your back turned to him.

“You’re home early,” you say, stirring the gnocchi. “How was your day, sweets?”

“It was fine, darling,” you hear Cassian respond, followed by a chair dragging across your floor as he plops down, spreading his legs wide, taking up a considerable amount of space.

You turned around, expecting a different Illyrian in your kitchen, a quick retort on your tongue as you look down and see his shoes. “Cassian!” You scold, “I’ve told you to take off your muddy boots before you come in.”

You walk over to him, flicking him in the ear. He rubs it softly, muttering about something. “Sorry, dear,” he says, emphasizing the term of endearment, as he starts unlacing his shoes.

You begin walking back to continue your cooking. “I thought you were my husband,” you shout to him as he walks back through your living room, the door softly opening. “Well, I’m flattered sweetheart, I thought we could have had something special, too, but my rascal of a brother got you first.”

You roll your eyes at him, stirring your noodles, “We never would have worked out, Cass. We’re both too chipper, we need to share our happiness with the grumps of the world.”

Cassian snorted, opening your fridge to grab a beer, “no we wouldn’t have worked out because Azriel would have murdered me if I made a move.”

He opens his beer bottle with his teeth, chuckling.

You laugh, cutting up your cooked chicken to mix it back into the pasta. “Oh what could have been, Cass. The world wouldn’t have been able to handle us together.”

“I know I certainly couldn’t.”

You smile, feeling your husband ghost a kiss to your cheek. He wraps his arms around you, basking in your scent before he goes to get his own beer.

Cassian rolls his eyes, “you would have skulked for hundreds of years, brother.” Your eyebrows raise, “you think we would have been together for centuries?”

“Oh yeah,” Cassian nods, putting his beer down on the table. “If not out of love, out of spite.” He gives Azriel a little smirk, and Azriel slaps the back of his head.

“Why are you here, Cass, other than to flirt with my wife?” He asks, taking his usual seat at the table.

“Yeah, Cass, didn’t you have a date tonight?” You ask, placing the pan in the oven and setting a timer. Azriel stills at your question. His brother did have a date tonight, one that should have started two hours ago.

You both reach the same conclusion as you say, “oh, Cass,” turning around to look at him. “What happened?”

He shrugs, starting to rip the label off his bottle to occupy himself. “She just.. wasn’t right.” He sighs, a contemplative look overcoming his features. “I just want something real. Not a few nights, not a few months. Something real. Like you two.”

Cassian’s face reddens, his admission in the air. He’s about to apologize, but you wrap your arms around his head, placing your own on top of his.

“You deserve someone incredible, Cass. Someone that isn’t me.” He laughs, patting your arms. “I’m sorry she didn’t work out. But you’re free to stay for dinner tonight, if you want. I’m making pesto chicken gnocchi.”

Cassian sighs, deflating in your arms a bit, “I don’t want to impose-“

Azriel snorts, “yes you do. Go ahead, Cassian. Impose. We’re happy to let you.” Cassian smiles, a real, genuine smile. Most nights the loneliness doesn’t get to him, but this is a rare night for vulnerability, and as the three of you gather around the table, gossiping about the girl Rhys was under the mountain with and how she was now at the Moonstone Palace with Rhys, Cassian feels his friends help carry his burden.

[alolanrain]

Kukui wakes up feeling super out of it, not sick but just weird, and is immediately focused on the rolling stormy clouds outside. He specifically remembers watching the news with Burnet last night and the weather man said it was going to be another scorching day. Typical mid summer weather for Alola.

So there couldn’t be any clouds. Let alone with lighting crackling across the sky and thunder rolling heavy in the distance.

He’s slow to get up like his bones were made out of led and his joints turned to gelatinous goop. Kukui’s girlfriend isn’t anywhere in the house so she must be at work, he hopes the weather isn’t worse so far out at sea.

It takes half a cup of coffee, not even registering during the process and waiting for the coffee to brew and be at a drinkable temperature, that the thunder is more… opinionated outside of Kukui’s abode. It takes him even longer to get outside to see that Burnet was indeed home and was wrapped up in Kukui’s ratty old bathrobe. Hair messy and face contorted in both fear and confusion. It takes a second for Kukui to realize why she has such a look on her face because he didn’t grab his damn glasses before leaving his room.

It is however pretty easy to see the unmistakable blurry outline of Lugia. Sitting upon the beach directly in front of the Professor’s home, growling down to an equally blurry floating blob.

Kukui doesn’t even say good morning before he turns slightly to Burnet without looking away. “Is that-“

“Tapu Koko?” Burnet finished the question, taking a sip off coffee before letting out a tense sigh “yeah.”

He shifts closer to where Brunet is leaning with one shoulder against the front pillar of the overhanging roof. “And that’s-“

Another sip and another strained sigh. “Lugia.”

Silence fell over them for a few seconds before Kukui is Kukui is quickly reminded by himself that he has a legendary magnet boarding student that Kukui has not seen at all this morning.

“Is he-“

“Uh-huh.”

Kukui wasn’t as surprised as he rightfully should be in this situation. This is Ash they’re talking about.

Though he should have known better and instead set down his cup until Ash and Pikachu, that Pokemon was never far behind his best friend, meandered their way back to the house. As the second he starting taking a sip of his coffee Burnets spoke up again with a small and even more strained voice.

“He called Lugia his dad.”

It’s been a long while since Kukui somehow shot coffee out from his nose. Though he thinks his reaction was more than given this go around, instead of being spooked by a stow-away Caterpie in his suitcase the morning after coming back from his travels through Kanto when Kukui was younger.

Silence falls over them again and in those moments Kukui’s anxiety gets the better of him. Mounting slow and heavy like a Joltik got under his skin during the night and was slowly making its way up to his brain. Zapping Kukui’s nevers every few milliseconds and causing his body to start twitching.

“I’m going to down my bottle of Prozac.” Kukui whispered before disappearing inside the house and didn’t hear Burnets dissociated hum of bare acknowledgment.

Her eyes were glued to the kid and his Pikachu, who was indeed down there with his trainer and wrapped up tightly in Ash’s arms, because Burnet couldn’t really look at the godly Pokemon. It wasn’t fear based avoidance but more so she felt like she was intruding on a very personal conversation between the two.

Burnet had only stayed out of the house after noticing the stand off between the guardian of the sea and Melemele’s guardian deity for Ash’s safety. From what Kukui has told her so far, Ash was surely a handful when it came to powerful Pokémon.

She couldn’t really see Ash’s expression from how far away he was from the house, but the fact he’s standing on the ground between the two guardians make it clear he didn’t think he was in danger. Despite the fact that conversation between Lugia and Tapu Koko felt more like a scolding with the way Burnet could hear only Lugia growling with Tapu Koko trying ti speak every now and then.

-

It takes a little while before Lugia finishes whatever verbal massacre they were on and slips back into the ocean gracefully. Though not before bending their his? Head down to gently nuzzle and coo at Ash and Pikachu. The dry lightning storm dissipates once the sea guardian leaves.

Burnet had joined Kukui back in the house after a little while. Finally taking a good look at both Legendaries and noticing Tapu Koko’s sunken and bashful form and Lugia’s own softened stance. Deducting Ash and Pikachu are truly safe for now.

When Ash does join them back in the house, he and Pikachu have matching deeply confused faces. When he notices the two adults he address them with a question both Kukui and Burnet never thought they’d face.

“Hey Professors’, how is it possible that I have a mom and two dads?”

[ruruumin]

being his music inspiration.

₊˚ ᗢ kazuha x singer! reader, modern au.

⤷ what is he like, if he were your biggest fan?

Kazuha wasn’t one to make big decisions. He has always let the wind take him wherever. So when Venti proposed that he joined a band, his ears perked up in interest. 5wirl, now rebranded as 6reeze was a band started in high school. They would perform at local venues or bars just to scrape by. They had no manager for the longest time but that never mattered to them. As long as they had fun making music, that was all that mattered.

It wasn’t until Scaramouche or Wanderer joined their party that things began to unravel. He was hard-headed and stubborn, yet at the same time curious. He asked the group: Why did you want to perform? It was a very simple question. Though one that made Venti giggle and Heizou elbow Kazuha’s side. For Xiao, he wanted to practice and experiment with different styles. Heizou and Venti liked the attention. 

Kazuha joined for one reason: you. Someone from another band who started way before he was even in high school. Although you and he were the same age, you were a lot more experienced and interested in performance and music. He used to beg his older friend Beidou to drive him to your concerts just so he could listen to you live and not from your CDs. 

The first time he listened to you was when you did a cover of “心做し” or Kokoronashi, which was dedicated to your recent break-up. Beidou described your voice to be powerful and raw, and he couldn’t deny that whatsoever. It was indeed true to your feelings and watching your eyes scan the crowd with a look of sincerity and hurt made his heart ache. 

When Beidou saw how enthusiastic he was about seeing you, she decided to give him the old bass that she had gotten from a thrift store. The look of excitement and joy in his eyes was unmatched, and she was happy that she made the right decision of giving it to him. He practiced the bass many times, his fingers growing a little more calloused each time he picked up his instrument. To learn songs, he would listen to your CDs and mouth the words to your songs. 

6reeze started to get popular once your band started to tour. And one fateful day, Venti managed to score a few tickets to see you. This also included exclusive meet and greet tickets that were only presale. The same tickets that the blond-haired boy was fighting desperately to get but lost due to an exam being held at the same time it opened. Kazuha held them in his hands with stars in his eyes. If you were to look closer, you might have seen him hold back his tears. 

On the day of your show, he was at the front, gaze completely focused on you. You pranced around the stage with a joyous smile, performing your heart out with your friends. Halfway through your performance, you started to slow down. Pulling out a stool, you raise the microphone close to you, singing the same song that he remembers all too familiar as another cover of Kokoronashi. Venti chuckled a bit into his hand, offering Kazuha a sympathetic smile as the boy started to cry. 

He swore his heart died when you signed his CD. His hands were trembling so badly that he stuttered over every single word. It took everything in Venti’s bones just to tell him that he’s had a massive crush on you since the day he saw you. Though that would be a bit too cruel! However, what set Kazuha off the most was the way your soft hands wrapped around his, a smile stretched across your face.

“Kazuha, right? You were there during my first performance, weren’t you?” You said, his face growing flush and red. “My friends are huge fans of you. I’m really glad that you guys are doing so well! I hope to one day perform alongside you.”

[erisenyo]

Your jetko is KILLING me. "I hate the way that I don’t hate you," OR "don't trust me," for these two idiots.

For this prompt game! (And also this one!)

(Can be read along with this and this and this)

Familiar is a word with many meanings, Zuko knows.

There’s familiar, as in the way they’ve been traveling in a direction Zuko can admit is both purposeful and known and has been for a few days now.

There’s familiar, the reflexive wariness Zuko feels after being in the Earth Kingdom on his own during the war when Jet takes him toward a little town to resupply while the rest of the Freedom Fighters set up camp for the night.

There’s familiar, the assurance Jet gives him that the town knows the Freedom Fighters.

And then there’s familiar, the way Zuko trails Jet into the general store and hears him greet the shopkeeper with a drawled, “Hello, Mei Lin, beautiful as ever, I see,” and she glances up, pretty and tough in a way that makes Zuko’s stomach drop, and Jet leans against the counter and says, “Miss me, gorgeous?” and Zuko feels himself go still.

“What do you need this time, Jet?” Mei Lin asks, crossing her arms. “You know I won’t take your credit.”

“Beautiful, you wound me,” Jet pouts, somehow managing to still smirk as he does it. “You know I have coin.” He cocks his head. “The question is, do you have…”

Zuko feels like he’s watching it all from a distance. Like it’s a play, one he's already seen before. Jet leaning against the counter. Cocking his hip and smirking. Flexing and stretching. Chewing on that wheatgrass and glancing through his lashes and doing things Zuko recognizes and burns to see.

“And who’s this?” Mei Lin asks, eyes flicking over Zuko in a cool, impersonal once-over. “Another stray?”

“Lee?” Jet doesn't even look over. “He’s just—"

“No one,” Zuko snaps over top of him, the words grinding out hard and rough before he even realizes he’s going to say them, his knuckles aching where his fists are clenched down at his sides as Jet finally glances back over his shoulder, surprised. Mei Lin raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“He’s just a friend,” Jet finishes after a beat, still watching Zuko, curious. Mei Lin’s other eyebrow ticks up.

“Ah,” she says, knowing.

“Now I didn’t say that, beautiful, did I?” Jet drawls still without taking his gaze off Zuko, leaning back against the counter now so he can fully face Zuko, his body lazy and languid in its sprawl and his eyes watchful.

Mei Lin gives Jet a dry look, then tilts her head toward Zuko. “You didn’t have to,” she says, grabbing up her list and heading into the back to gather up their purchases.

“You hear that, babe?” Jet smirks as he pushes off the counter like he doesn't have bones, expression teasing and distantly amused as he saunters over, “I think you’re a little obvious.”

“I’m obvious,” Zuko growls, inner fire flaring with— “I’m—”

“What,” Jet interrupts, running a finger down Zuko's chest, pouting in mock hurt. “You don’t trust me, babe?”

Zuko glares at him, then over his shoulder at Mei Lin as she quietly sets a sack of rice flour on the counter, Mei Lin meeting his eyes with a cool kind of indifference before she heads into the back again. He transfers his glare back to Jet who is smirking and pressing on Zuko's solar plexus over his lightning scar and all affected nonchalance and—

“I do,” Zuko snarls like a challenge, wanting to shove Jet, to push him, to punch him, to break that fucking pretend-it-doesn’t-matter smirk right of his space, wanting— “And you know what, I think you got this one all on your own, Jet,” he spits, turning on his heel and wondering if he imagined the flash of surprise on Jet’s face. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“You trust me, huh,” Jet says later as he finds Zuko with annoying ease in the alley Zuko ducked into for the shade and the quiet and mostly for the privacy to glare and kick things and generally be petulant like he never allows himself to be in public anymore.

Zuko glowers from where he’s sitting on one of the crates that was too sturdy to break apart and tries to reach for the thin shred of calm he’s managed to regain for whatever goading Jet's clearly about to do.

"Trust," Jet repeats like he's trying out the word, smirking at Zuko. “That mean you’re not going to kiss me to see if you taste someone else on my lips?”

Zuko hisses, fire lashing in his chest because he fucking wants nothing more right now than to grab Jet by the back of the neck and make him remember exactly whose name he was choking out last night, and Jet is fucking still smirking at him like he knows it, tossing the expression over his shoulder as he crouches down to busy himself distributing their purchases between their two packs, testing weight and tying ties and abruptly saying, almost diffident, “You shouldn’t, you know.”

Zuko slashes him a sideways glance, not in the mood. “Kiss you?”

“Trust me,” Jet corrects as he ties off the pack, glancing up, his expression neutral enough for Zuko to pause on the sharp edge of his anger.

“No?” Zuko asks after a long moment, forcing himself to take a steady, even breath. “Why not?”

Zuko half expects something over the top outrageous and flirty, but Jet just chews on his wheatgrass a moment, looking at him, fingers tapping against his pack before he finally says, “I can’t give you what you need, Zuko.”

Zuko…didn't expect to hear that. “What makes you think you know what I need?” he asks, slow, half expecting a joke.

“Oh, babe,” Jet smirks as easy as sliding on a mask, giving him a lazy once over and uncoiling to his feet to saunter into Zuko’s space, reminding Zuko of nine years ago but for the first time not in a good way, “I know plenty of what you need.”

“Yeah?” Zuko asks, half-wary as he lets Jet crowd him back until he has to spread his legs to make room and brace his hands on the crate behind him. “What, then?”

“You want,” Jet whispers, leaning in to say the words soft and sultry against his unscarred ear, “To stop—” hands sliding up Zuko’s ribs. “—holding yourself—” thumbs teasing at his nipples in punctuation. “—back.”

Zuko sucks in a hard breath, shuddering at the unexpectedness of it before he can catch himself. His inner fire wrenches with want and he squeezes his eyes shut, gripping the edge of the crate in a desperate attempt to ground himself. He instinctively reaches for all the patterns of calm, calm, calm he spent so long banging into his head, hitching halfway into the stare of a breath control pattern and eyes snapping open to stare at Jet from a few inches away, Jet's gaze looking back knowing and so unsettlingly, uncomfortably understanding.

“I—” Zuko tries, mouth suddenly dry, “That’s not—I’m supposed to—”  

“You want to cut free,” Jet murmurs almost gently, watching Zuko’s face as he steps forward between Zuko’s thighs. “You want to scream.” Hands sliding down his sides. “You want to slam doors in all their faces,” Jet continues, voice suddenly going hard, low and near vibrating with intensity as he climbs up to straddle him, “And you want to tell them all to go fuck themselves.”

Zuko grabs Jet’s hands as they dip toward the tie of his pants. “You don’t—you don’t—you…”

“You want it,” Jet says hot and intense into his ear before suddenly sitting back on Zuko’s thighs, head cocking almost coy. “And there’s no need to wait, babe,” he purrs, licking his lips as he stares at Zuko’s hands tight around his wrists before meeting Zuko’s gaze. “We can start right now,” he murmurs, sinking his hips against Zuko’s lap in clear invitation and for a moment Zuko can only stare, frozen, feeling his inner flame burning wild and high, his heart pounding, his limbs nearly buzzing with something so close to adrenaline-exhilaration that it might as well be the same thing.

“Or,” Jet says after a moment, head cocking the other way when Zuko doesn’t move, “I can always—”

Zuko darts up, grabbing onto Jet’s hair and yanking him down and biting the side of his neck before he even registers the impulse, sucking with more force than finesse as Jet sucks in a surprised breath. Then he shoves Jet away just as suddenly, Jet’s gasp turning into a grunt of surprise as he goes right off the edge of the crate, barely making his feet before Zuko lunges forward to set his hands on Jet’s shoulders and shoves again, the sound of Jet's knees hitting the hard-packed dirt shuddering through him in the sudden silence.

“We can start now,” Zuko rasps out, shaky and wild and openly wanting like he never hears himself, something strange thrilling in his chest at the sound and then again as Jet half-laughs, reaching up to touch the already reddening mark on his neck, expression something between delighted and incredulous.

“You’re a quick learner, babe,” Jet breathes, grinning up at him feral and hungry and reaching for Zuko’s pants. “No better time than now.”

[brella]

I feel like I’m being influenced to join the Spencer/emily ship 😅 what are some of your favorite elements of their relationship?

here’s the thing about reid and prentiss. here’s the fucking thing. they’re in love. with each other. they just have no idea that this is what is happening.

let’s go back to the beginning. once upon a time, spencer reid loved elle greenaway. she was his friend and he cared about her and when she lost herself and left the BAU he blamed himself for not helping her, not “saving” her. even though he saw the signs. even though they drank bourbon in an anonymous hotel room and her hair was shorter than it was when he met her and her eyes were haunted and she told him that she could still feel the fisher king’s fingers in her bullet wound. even though he could see the pain and rage plainly when nobody else would acknowledge it, and he did not know how to make it gentler. he only knew how to spot it, and what it meant.

elle left. reid’s friend, elle, she left wounded and nobody cared. nobody but him. shortly thereafter the BAU got a nepo hire named emily prentiss. no one knew anything about her but she fit into the team seamlessly, getting along with everybody except for a chronically distrusting hotch and a bitter, self-blaming reid. she wasn’t actually elle’s replacement but to reid maybe she was. maybe that’s why when the signs of his dilaudid abuse became apparent and prentiss was the first to notice, he felt nothing but anger. he knew elle and he loved elle and if he couldn’t stop her from hurting herself then where the fuck does prentiss get off thinking she can stop him from doing the same, when she doesn’t know him at all, when she has no reason to love him? who does she think she is?

what he doesn’t know is that when prentiss looks at him going through that she just sees matthew benson. the first boy who ever loved her, who she lost in the dark, who she could not save. she’s been here before.

reid gets sober. we can see him and prentiss getting to be friends. he makes her laugh. she makes him smile. they agree on deep philosophical topics that the rest of the BAU doesn’t. they get each other. reid trusts her because she never treats him like a baby. prentiss trusts him because he doesn’t know how to be anyone else but who he is. prentiss, the consummate liar, the woman with ten names, ten pasts. made her bones with the foxes. but she’s found a safe place to land, for once, for maybe the first time in her life. not moving, not running: in a place of her own, with a family she chose. and then her ghosts come knocking.

she did love ian doyle. that can’t be denied. it started out as a job but lost that shape soon enough. when he comes back for her, she’s terrified. who notices? reid. constantly, constantly, it’s reid. you’re biting your fingernails again. who’s lauren reynolds? the pinpoint accuracy with which he observes her every nuanced movement in the valhalla arc is unreal and frankly unprecedented. he’s seen gideon leave, seen elle leave: seen the signs. he’s seeing them again. still, he opens up to her about his headaches. he’s never opened up to ANYBODY like that before. and he just casually does it. at his desk. AT WORK! AND THEN INVITES HER ON A DATE TO SEE SOLARIS IN THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN BECAUSE “REALLY WE’RE THE ONLY ONES WHO CAN UNDERSTAND IT.” LIKE LINGUISTICALLY OR IN YOUR HEARTS?

i’m not answering your question. my favorite aspect of their relationship is that they’re the goth and the nerd. my favorite aspect of their relationship is that it’s rooted in missed signals. two ships passing, close enough to touch, in different directions: over and over and over again. a veritable trove of almosts. 75% of their chemistry is in what you can see they’re always ABOUT to say to each other. and then she has to fake her death and run away and can they ever recover from that? he cried at JJ’s house EVERY NIGHT FOR TEN WEEKS. watch the scene where they slow-dance together in that one episode their expressions are so fucking telling. they are haunted by things they will not say to each other.

EVIDENCE LIST:

canonical prentiss line “love dating readers. hate profiling them.” what? at work!

prentiss staring at him with a complex and gentle expression and asking him if he ever wants kids. at work!

reid calling everyone else on the team by their last name. except emily. none of the other men calling her that except him. what? at work!

reid being totally un-curious about the sin to win weekend comment. because he was also going to be there? and they count cards together? and have sex? at work!

real canon interaction where prentiss tells a story about a star puzzle that represents a star that broke because a prince dropped it after catching it for a princess and it can’t be put back together and reid puts it back together and hands it to her. what? at work!

he recognizes her in the doctored photos of declan BY HER HANDS. by the blurred out of focus sight of her hands. “guys, look at the fingernails.” WHO LOOKS AT THAT BUT YOU? AT WORK!

real line doyle has about how she could be on the metro with dr. reid going back to his apartment like what? the music sting right after? his knowing smirk? “well, that one [reid] does have some quirks” WHAT??????? HER EX SAYING THIS???

i haven’t seen the later seasons but that reid wanted to kill someone because of what they did to prentiss like. saying after what he did to you if i would have found him i would have killed him and i’d have slept well. what? at work!

they’ve both flatlined. he saw a warm light and she saw a cold darkness. they told each other this. in a conference room. AT WORK!

^ how she looks at him btw

[bonesloveeverandemilyanddavid]

https://people.com/emily-deschanel-carla-gallo-excited-to-reminisce-bones-rewatch-podcast-exclusive-7554437?utm_campaign=peoplemagazine&utm_content=new&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_term=649c743d25570b000116322b Emily Deschanel and Carla Gallo 'Excited' to 'Reminisce' as They Launch 'Bones' Rewatch Podcast (Exclusive)

The first episode of 'Boneheads with Emily Deschanel and Carla Gallo (A Bones Rewatch Podcast)' will be released July 19

By

Kelly Martinez

  It’s a good day to be a Bones fan.

PEOPLE can exclusively announce that Emily Deschanel and Carla Gallo are launching Boneheads with Emily Deschanel and Carla Gallo (A Bones Rewatch Podcast) on July 19.

The Wishbone Production podcast, executive produced by Allison Bresnick, which is slated to air weekly on Wednesdays, will feature behind-the-scenes secrets and insights as the actresses — who played Dr. Temperance Brennan and Daisy Wick — rewatch the Fox series, starting with the 2005 pilot episode.

“It very much is for the fans, but it's also for us to look back and reexamine what the show was for us and what it meant in our lives and other people's lives,” Deschanel, 46, tells PEOPLE. “I'm excited for [fans] to hear some behind-the-scenes stories, to be a fly on the wall with Carla and me talking about our friendship and the tangents we'll go on.”

Emily Deschanel Thinks the Likelihood of a 'Bones' Reboot is '50/50': 'It Could Happen'

FOX Image Collection via Getty

The podcast will feature a slew of Bones cast and crew as guests, including executive producer Barry Josephson, writer Hart Hanson, director Greg Yaitanes, TJ Thyne (Dr. Jack Hodgins), Eric Millegan (Dr. Zack Addy), Michaela Conlin (Angela Montenegro) and author Kathy Reichs, whose novels inspired the series.

When asked why Gallo, 48, was the perfect companion for this project, the Devil in Ohio star says that their pairing is the perfect balance of perspectives. While she was there from the very beginning as Temperance, Gallo didn’t appear as intern Daisy until season 4 and has more of a “fresh eyes” point of view.

“I like that pairing for us because we have the insider, the person who was there every day — that's me — and then Carla, who would come and go and didn't come in for a while,” Deschanel explains. “She's the outside perspective who can ask the questions of, ‘Why did you do that?’ and, ‘What were you thinking here?’ and, ‘What was the story there?’”

FOX Image Collection via Getty

Deschanel also hopes that her and Gallo’s friendship will add to the podcast’s charm.

The two met while filming Bones and have been inseparable ever since. “We chat and can't stop chatting all the time. We love talking with each other. It's hard for us to even get off the phone,” she shares. “Hopefully [it will] feel like you're in the room with two old friends who are just chatting, making each other laugh and talking about the show that brought them together.”

Emily Deschanel Is on a Mission to Save Farm Animals

David Livingston/Getty I

Bones ran for 12 seasons on Fox from September 2005 to March 2017. The crime procedural comedy-drama centered on Deschanel's forensic anthropologist and David Boreanaz as FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, who solved different case files involving mysterious human remains.

The show remains Fox’s longest-running scripted drama series to date, and Deschanel says she wants to give dedicated fans a “companion piece” to the series through the podcast.

“We encounter fans of the show all the time who say they've [seen] the show multiple times,” she tells PEOPLE. “There are fans that have watched more than we have, and they love it and know more than we do.”

“It seems to give people a lot of comfort and be nostalgic for people as well,” she added. “People found it comforting to go through your hard times in their life watching the show. So people watch it many times over, so we wanted to give a companion piece to that experience too.”

Never miss a story — sign up for PEOPLE's free daily newsletter to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer, from juicy celebrity news to compelling human interest stories.

All 12 seasons of Bones are available to stream now on Hulu ahead of the July 19 debut of Boneheads with Emily Deschanel and Carla Gallo (A Bones Rewatch Podcast) on major podcast platforms.

https://people.com/emily-deschanel-carla-gallo-excited-to-reminisce-bones-rewatch-podcast-exclusive-7554437?utm_campaign=peoplemagazine&utm_content=new&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_term=649c743d25570b000116322b

[deathmydearoldfriend]

@poemsbybuddie

day one: home

what makes a house a home?

it’s a question i ask for years. a question i let rot in the pit of my stomach, 

a grave i try to crawl into, 

some secret i think i can discover, if only i run far enough.

in a youth spent as a shadow, only ever being seen in shades of blood and bruises,

i try to find it in her hair. in the curve of her shoulder, where she will hold me when i cry, 

when there is no wound to bandage or bone to sling, 

just broken hearts to mend, the caverns of a kitchen table watching me every day. 

as a boy steeped in loneliness, i search for it. 

that otherwise unnameable thing. 

the mountain that postcards cannot cross. 

a person who does not get left. 

i make my own assertions. 

home cannot have legs. (a home should never walk away)

a home will never smile (i’d do anything to keep it there)

home should be easy, like it is to be left. home should not be lonely, like i’ve been all these years. home is no empty apartment, waiting for a plane that will never return, home should not be a secret, a grave that isn’t my own, home cannot be mine, 

i know this, 

like i know my blood, like i know my sweat, like i know my shame,

home cannot be mine, 

when i have always been know to tear at the seams. 

(i know, mom, i never make it easy. i told him to listen when i say: i never make it easy)

in some fever dreams, home is a grave, nestled next to him, the brother that never was, the person i could never save, the home that lived and died with my bones, with the cries i brought into this world, with the brother i tore away.

some nights, leg aching, litchenberg scars scrawled along my skin,

home is an old friend i hope will still come for me. home is a scar in my skin i wish never healed. home is the secrets i’ll keep till i’m at your door, again.

home is an early grave. some earthen, spring thing, begging for my touch, home is scraped knees for a smile, home is in hiding, home is in running, home is cold, impersonal, untouchable, home cannot exist, but then, i remind myself, neither could you.

maybe it is this:

home cannot have legs. but mine will carry you. home comes with scars, though i wish yours faded and mine stayed bruised. home will never smile, but i watch as your own comes easily and i think: 

none of what i thought was true.

home can be a rush, a reminder to swim, home can take a bullet wound and come out the other side prepared for something new,

in you i’ve found a cavern my heart has been running to, 

knees knocking, shoulders bumping, home is a magnet pulling me to you,

but still, some things stay true.

if home is an early grave then love is too. you’ve damned me to be pulled, to run, ever-constant, into the sun, straight towards you, and the wounds i’ll sustain will carry me through, 

i know, you never asked for this, for me to bleed for you,

but i’ll do it gladly: 

because i know. 

i will never be home to you.

[oh-puffle-cakes19]

could you do one where the reader is the holland sister who is 15 and has a boyfriend. Her mum lets him come over and the boys get protective and maybe they are in the room with the door closed. They open it and the reader and her bf (choose a name for him) they are cuddling but his hand lays on her ass maybe so they give him a look to say ‘move it’. The reader tells her brothers to do get out

Good at being Protective, or not?

Pairing - Read is Tom Holland’s sister

Summary - Reader having a boyfriend and her brothers being protective.

Warnings - Protective, slight swearing.

A/N - I don’t write much of the reader being Tom’s sister but I’ll give it a shot. Thank you for Requesting, hope you enjoy!

Your mum was in the kitchen after you got back from school, you had a very important question to ask her.

Your brothers were no where to be seen as Harry and Sam wasn’t back from the shops, Paddy wasn’t back from school since he went a different way with his friends and Tom wasn’t back until the weekend.

“Mum, I’ve got a question,” You grinned, standing at the side of your mum.

“Yes, Darling, what is it?” Your mum stopped to look up at you as she was putting the washing in the machine.

“You know, how I’ve been speaking about Luke being my boyfriend,” You smile, leaning back and forth on your feet, “Yes, go on,” Nikki nods, understanding where this conversation is going. It was going to happen eventually, she thinks.

“Well, can I have him over?” You smile, giving those adorable eyes to Nikki. She normally, can’t resist when you do that, “Yes, of course sweet girl,” Nikki gushed, “what does he like to eat?”

“I think …., wound be good,” You nodded, “Thank you,”

“Your welcome, Can you bring your washing for me?” You nodded at your mum, going upstairs smiling.

The next day being Saturday, Luke is coming round as well as all your brothers are going to be there too!

Nikki decided to get all of your brothers out of the house while, You and Luke spend sometime together as she doing chores around the house.

It’s around 2-3pm, Sam chasing Paddy through the door buzzing as ever after being at the golf course with Harry and Tom.

“Hey mum,” Tom and the other boys greeted Nikki, hugging her as they speak to her.

Nikki forgot to mentioned that you was having a boy, who you are dating round. She thought nothing of it since it’s perfectly normal to be going out in teenage years.

You come downstairs with Luke following behind you, you got your hand in his hand.

“Y/N, who’s your friend?” Harry, pointed out to you, “Hang on, he’s a guy,”

“Yh, no shit Sherlock!” You roll your eyes at his stupid comment, you turn to Luke, “Would you like anything to drink?” You smile.

“You never give that smile to me,” Tom gasped, through the door of the kitchen, “Hello, I’m Tom Y/Ns Brother but no funny business because I’m watching you.” Tom shakes his hand.

“Omg, I thought you could be normal but clearly not!” You shook your head, “It’s alright honestly, can I just have water please,” Luke smiled, turning to Tom as you got a cup, “hi, I’m Luke um, Y/Ns boyfriend,”

“I gathered that,” Tom chuckles, “clearly someone didn’t,” Pointing out at Harry, “Hey in my defence a girl can have a guy, who is a friend too. I didn’t want to say something and it isn’t like that.” He puts his hands up.

“Thanks, Y/N,” You nodded, as you pass Lukes water to him.

“Fair, play Bazzy,” You smirked, clearly the nickname to mock him in a way like he’s a child again, “Where’s the other two!”

“What, there is more?” Luke gave you wide eyes, sipping on the water, “yep, unfortunately! Harry here has got a lovely twin and I am a year younger than Paddy,” You explained, whispering at the end, “He’s a bit of a bone brain,”

“Oh, right,” Luke nodded as Paddy comes through, “I heard that, little miss princess,” Tom and Harry laughing, “She ain’t wrong..” Harry mumbled, getting a hard slap from Paddy.

“Hey! Ouch,” Harry whined, Tom still laughing until Paddy hit him too, “You come back here,” Tom gone off to chase Paddy, you can just about to see Sam running after them down the hall too.

You and Luke go up stairs sitting down on your bed as you shut the door.

“Chaos!” You sigh, Luke bringing you into his chest as you lay down on the bed, “No, it’s fine. I don’t think it’s that bad,” Luke reassured you.

“That’s good, you smell nice,” You giggle as you lean into his neck, “You smell good too,” Luke brought your head up to kiss you slowly, wondering his hand on your ass.

You stayed there for about 20-30 minutes until your brothers had different plans of not staying downstairs.

“Who’s coming up stairs with me to go into Y/N’s room!” Tom grinned, walking up the stairs.

“Looks like Tessa is coming too!” Sam smirked, “I told them no funny business but I’m doubting that they listened,” Tom told looking back at Harry.

“You might be the oldest but I’m the strongest,” Sam scoffed, playfully at Harry, “Be quiet, they will hear.”

“Who’s opening the door?” Paddy, Whispers looking back at his brothers. They all shrug until sam opens it.

“What music do you like?” You smile as You cuddle into Luke more.

“Uh-,” Luke getting cut off, “What are you doing?” Tom scoffed giving him a firm look, seeing that Lukes arm is wrapped around you and even his hand is on your ass.

“Are you going to move your hand?” Harry, firmly asked. It wasn’t really a question, it was more of an order.

You are stunned at what your brothers are doing right now. Staring at you and Luke like you are doing something much worse than cuddling.

“You better move it,” Sam said, Tom putting his hand on his hips, “sorry, Luke. Guys, get out!” You say ignoring them. You stand up instead, pushing them towards the door.

“But he’s touching your ass, Y/N!” Harry rolled his eyes, “That isn’t acceptable,”

“You all including you! Paddy go downstairs!” You cross your arms, “You even had the door shut, you leave it open!” Tom shook his head, your still trying to push him out of your room.

The other three are actually on the landing but Tom wouldn’t budge. “Oh my, Gosh! Tom Fucking move your heavy!” You shouted, him just laughing.

Luke staring at all of you curious at what is going on. “Fine, fine!” Tom gets out after you hit him against his arm a few times, “Now stay out, go find something else better to do!” You gave a mean face to them all, slamming the door shut.

“Tch, I can’t believe mum ever let Y/N have a boyfriend. And he’s in her room with the door shut,” Tom folded his arm, “I agree,” Harry nodded along with Sam and Paddy.

“Mum, mum!” Harry yelled in the living room, “Yes Harry, what is it?” Nikki turned the hover off, looking at him.

“Y/N has Luke in her room, with the door shut,” Harry smirked, being the protective brother he is, “Yes, I know! Can you please leave them alone, I’ve had complains from Y/N. About you and the others annoying,” Nikki gave him the pointing finger.

“It’s nice that she has a respectful guy, now don’t mess it up please! Thank you, go find something else to do,” Nikki told Harry, continuing back to her hovering.

Harry, huffed back to Tom, Sam and Paddy in the kitchen. They were all getting a snack, “Well?” Sam asked, “Uh, she said leave them alone,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Typical,” Tom and Paddy said at the same time, “Jinx,” Paddy shouted, first.

“You got told by mum,” Sam laughed, “Hey! Actually we all did, freckle face,” Harry smirked coming up with a stupid nickname.

“Curly fry,” Sam laughed harder, Harry and Sam ended up fighting in the kitchen like children. Paddy and Tom was arguing over jinx..

You come downstairs to get food, “I think we are best staying up stairs a while, some protective brothers they are?” Laughing at your own joke as you lay back down with Luke.

[buckybleu]

✦ coffee and bagels ✦

pairing: Shang-Chi x fem!reader

summary: You and Shang-Chi are crushing on each other, but won't do anything about it...so Katy steps in.

a/n: I've always written fics/drabbles in my drafts but never really posted them. After watching Shang-Chi, I've been excited to write and possibly post! I'm a bit rusty, but hope you enjoy.

reblog/like/feedback are greatly appreciated! ✨

word count: 928

It wasn't an early start to the day. But with last night’s shenanigans with Katy and Shang-Chi at the karaoke bar, your hangover was not your friend today at work. Groaning, you rub your temples in hopes of reliving the monstrous headaches.

Coffee would be nice right now, maybe a muf—

As if the heavens heard your request, a cup of coffee slid across the reception desk before you could finish your thought. Looking up, Shang-Chi smiles brightly while holding a bagel bag out to you.

“For your hangover, you need it.” Shang-Chi laughs, “Black coffee with a splash of milk and sugar. Bagel with light cream cheese.”

“You remember.” You smile, taking a sip of your coffee. “Oh god, that’s good! I don’t know how I’d last today without a caffeine boost.”

“It’s a ‘sorry for keeping you out so late, but thanks for karaoke’ apology.”

“Well if it means I get a coffee and bagel every time, then I’ll always join you for karaoke.”

You were never one to turn down an invite from Shang-Chi and Katy. They were always a blast to hang out with and great drinking partners. The first time you went out with them was one to remember, mainly because it intensified your crush on Shang-Chi

“Hotel California” lyrics were playing on the screen and Katy and Shang-Chi were singing their hearts out. Katy was very insistent that you hangout out with her and her friend Shang-Chi. You’ve met Katy while working at the hotel and have seen Shang-Chi a few times in the lobby or when passing by valet. Shang-Chi always wore a smile when you saw him, giving a wink here and there. There was no lie in how handsome the man is, and the thought of being in a confined room with him made you nervous.

Alcohol was running through your veins and the nervousness in your bones were long gone. You watched your friends sing, specifically admiring the way the neon light bounced off of Shang-Chi’s face. Shang-Chi suddenly turns to you, grabs your hand, and looks into your eyes while singing the lyrics.

Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

Though you knew it was just him singing, you couldn’t help the feeling that Shang-Chi was singing to you. The sound of your heart beating rapidly ringed in your ear; if you had drank a little more, you’d probably kiss him then and there

“You gotta stop staring at her. Why don’t you just ask her out?” Katy questions, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Shang-Chi stares wildly at Katy as if she had asked him to rob a bank. “What?! Why would I... I can’t...what the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m not blind, you’re always giving her the googly eyes or looking at her like a lovesick puppy. Wait, are you sick, are you in love?” Katy places her hand on Shang-Chi’s forehead, which he quickly pushes off.

“Would you stop that, I’m not in love okay?! Not yet at least” Shang-Chi looks down at his food, mumbling the last part to himself. “Why would a girl like her, be into a guy who parks cars for a living?”

“Because a little birdy told me she also has the hots for you too…” Katy sings.

Shang-Chi lifts his head, trying to process the words his best friend just said.

“God, this is so sad. I’m taking this into my own hands.” Katy gets up from the table, dragging Shang-Chi with her.

“Wait! Where are we going?” Shang-Chi looks around, trying to process his surroundings, before he recognizes they’re in the lobby. “Hold on...wait...How are you this strong!? I can’t ask her out, she’s way out of my leag—.”

Katy shoves Shang-Chi in front of the desk you’re standing behind, both giving you a little wave. You laugh at their antics, curious to why they’re not enjoying their lunch, but in the lobby.

“Hi y/n, quick question. Did you or did you not drunkenly confess to me that you find Shang-Chi incredibly handsome and how his lips are soft and kissable?”

Your eyes go wide at Katy’s question. You had forgotten your drunk confession to Katy that night on the way home. Now bits of your memory come back, remembering how you told her you “wanted to kiss Shang-Chi’s soft lips” and “loved the way his eyes twinkled in the neon lights.”

“And you,” Katy turns to Shang-Chi, finger pointed “Just ask her out already. If I have to watch you stare at her any longer, I’m going to be gray and shriveled.”

You and Shang-Chi stare at each other, not sure what you just heard was true. Words form and fall at the tip of your tongues, unsure of what to do. Katy claps her hand, “Okay, my job is done. You guys can figure the rest out.” She walks back to her lunch, leaving you two alone.

“So uhm..haha” Shang-Chi laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, Katy was just saying...uhm jokin—”

“Do you want to grab coffee tomorrow morning...with me?” you ask.

“Like a date?”

“Uh, I mean..it doesn’t...yes. Like a date.” There was no turning back at this point. Your heart was pounding while you were wringing your hands.

Smiling, Shang-Chi gets a surge of confidence at your nervous state. “As long as you tell more about how handsome you think I am and how ‘soft and kissable my lips’ are.”

[lunar-wandering]

petals for two

finally, here it is. the Shadowpeach non-fatal Hanahaki AU the people have been waiting for.

Word Count: 13k

Read on Ao3

Bajie and Wujing found Wukong kneeling down by the river.

Again.

For the third day in a row.

"...Elder brother?" Wujing asked, watching how Wukong's back and tail stiffened. "Are you...okay?"

"...Just peachy..." Wukong said, but the way he said it was quiet, wheezy, and entirely unconvincing. Bajie quirked an eyebrow.

"Really? Because that's what you've said the last two times now." He said, crossing his arms with a healthy dose of suspicion on his face. "That last fight was pretty bad- y'know it would be pretty unwise of the 'Intelligent Stone Monkey' to be hiding an injury-"

"I said I'm fine!" Wukong snapped, turning around to glare at them with firey red eyes, his fur bristling with anger.

There was a pause, Bajie and Wujing both falling silent as Wukong continued to glare at them-

And then Wukong's hand flew to his mouth, as he turned back around to face the river, his body shaking with muffled coughs. Both Wujing and Bajie rushed to his side, concerned-

Only to freeze as they saw the purple petals slipping through Wukong's fingers, falling into the river and floating downstream. There was a moment of silence, broken only by Wukong's wheezing breaths.

And then they were both kneeling beside him, Wujing rubbing comforting circles on Wukong's back, while Bajie pulled the Monkey King's hand away from his mouth, letting the petals fall freely.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, let them do this, and the three of them quietly watched the petals float away, vanishing as they went around the riverbend.

If Wujing and Bajie noticed the tears running down Wukong's face, they didn't comment on it.

"...I'm sorry." Is what Wujing chose to say, in a soft murmur.

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wukong whispered, for a whisper was all his throat could manage at the time. "I'll be okay."

They all knew he was trying to reassure himself with his words more so than them.

When the three of them returned to their makeshift camp with an apology and a half-baked excuse, Tripitaka barely batted an eye.

Bai Longma, however, stared at a stray petal clinging to Wukong's outfit with a look of knowing.

Miles away, in a cave hidden by shadows, a figure leaned against the cave wall, one hand steadying himself while the other covered the fresh wound to his eye, petals falling out of his mouth as he cursed whoever decided that love could be unrequited.

-

Hanahaki. The disease of unrequited love.

Or, well, as it was known nowadays, the disease of pining.

Originally, when people were first discovering the disease, they thought it to be only born out of feelings that could never be reciprocated.

As it turns out, that simply wasn't the entire truth.

Overall, about 20% of Hanahaki cases reported end up being due to unrequited love.

The other 80% are due to people who simply, for one reason or another, refuse to confess.

As was recently discovered, about a century or so ago, the one true cure for Hanahaki is to look your beloved in the eyes, and say; "I love you."

As you can imagine, not many people have the courage to do that.

Luckily, the disease has never truly been fatal more than it was a slight hindrance. There even exists some medicines and teas that can reduce the effects of the flowers, although using them comes with its own ballpark of side effects.

Anyways, to make a long story short, MK wasn't surprised to end up meeting someone currently suffering from Hanahaki.

He just hadn't been expecting it to have been the Monkey King.

-

It hadn't really been obvious at first. Hanahaki will sometimes wither slightly when distanced from whoever the afflicted person has a crush on, but it never really takes much to send the flowers into full bloom again.

MK didn't actually hand out with Wukong a lot, and even when he did, it was only for training, something Mk restlessly focused on in the hopes of getting better at being, well, the Monkey King's successor.

Which was why, when during one of their rare breaks, Wukong froze in shock when MK actually asked him a question (one that, for once, wasn't about training).

"...Monkey King? Do you have any friends?" MK asked.

"Sure I do!" Wukong lied, "Why do you ask?"

"Ah- well-" MK stuttered, staring down at the ground in front of him as he seemed to ponder how to phrase his next sentence. "You just seemed... lonely, I guess."

"Well, I'm not, since I do, in fact, have friends, so. Yeah." Wukong said, crossing his arms as his tail slowly swung back and forth nervously.

"Are your friends from now or before?" MK asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "Actually, did you even have friends before?"

"...Before?"

"Before the Journey to the West." MK elaborated.

"Psh, of course I did!" Wukong said, "Y'know, I was even friends with Demon Bull King back then- you wouldn't believe some of the stories I have about him..."

MK had, in fact, already known about Wukong and Demon Bull King having been friends. Tang had been more than happy to bring that up, multiple times.

But what MK really wanted to know was-

"Was there anybody else?" He asked.

"Of course there was! For example, M-" Wukong started, but very quickly cut himself off, the light in his eyes dulling slightly. MK winced, sensing that he'd somehow stumbled upon a sensitive subject.

Before he could apologize though, Wukong suddenly tensed, before turning and starting to walk away.

"Uh, I'll be right back, I just need to check on the younger monkeys for a moment, okay?" He said. It was an excuse that was easily seen through, but MK couldn't bring himself to mention it.

-

Similar situations kept happening.

Sometimes it was understandable, like when Wukong would take a second or so to throw a smile back on his face (a smile MK was starting to recognize as fake) whenever MK brought up the subject of the Journey to the West.

Other times, however, it was a little confusing. Like, for example, when after an unspoken kitchen incident, MK had worn a purple jacket to training. (Mei had let him borrow it from her, since his yellow jacket was still in the wash, due to the Kitchen Incident That Shall Not Be Named).

As soon as Wukong had seen the purple jacket, he'd froze, before hastily turning away and running back inside his little house, claiming to have forgotten something.

MK had taken the jacket off and stuffed it into his bag by the time Wukong returned.

-

It was only after the Macaque fight that things became clear.

They'd been silent, watching the sunrise, and MK had started to doze off, leaning on his mentor's shoulder as he slowly started to fall asleep.

...Only to be jostled back into awareness as Wukong's shoulders shook with barely muffled coughs.

"Are you okay?" MK asked, lifting his head off of Wukong's shoulder and staring at the Monkey King with thinly veiled worry. Wukong leaned away from MK's gaze, a hand still covering his mouth.

He was too busy coughing to give a good response.

"If you broke a rib or something and didn't tell me I'm not going to be very impressed." MK deadpanned. Wukong shook his head 'no' in response, hand still over his mouth despite the fact his coughing fit had already died down. "Well, what is it then?"

MK waited as Wukong seemed to internally debate with himself.

And then the Monkey King slowly removed his hand from his mouth, revealing the petals that he had confined within his palm.

"Oh. Oh!" MK said, realization striking him as the dots connected in his mind. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"I know..." Wukong groaned, placing his head in his hands, not caring about how this caused some of the petals to stick to his face and fur. MK giggled a little over how silly his mentor looked, Wukong glaring at him and sticking one of the petals onto his successor's cheek in response. MK made a noise of disgust as he wiped the petal off of his face.

Far away from the two of them, Macaque stumbled back into his dojo, nursing a new injury, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and holding crushed flower petals in his fist.

-

Well. Wukong could officially say that he'd never been in a situation like this before.

Tangled up and dangling from the Spider Queen's spiderweb, Wukong tried to distract himself from the feeling of being trapped, unable to move.... by doing his best to observe his surroundings.

There... sure were a lot of other demons here. He couldn't figure out if it was good or bad that he didn't recognize most of them.

Wait.

Wukong looked around the room again with narrowed eyes.

Could Spider Queen have also taken-

No.

Wukong couldn't see him anywhere, not to mention that the other monkey had always been concerned with his own safety first and foremost. He'd probably scrambled to get out of town at the first sign of trouble. Wukong wasn't going to find Macaque in here.

He wasn't sure why he'd even looked.

...And there was that warm, tickly feeling in the back of his throat again.

Wukong squirmed, trying to ignore the sensation for as long as possible. He even started humming, his go to method for repressing the petals, but it barely worked, and a small dose of panic started to overtake him. He had no way of covering up the petals that would come, his arms and hands pinned at his sides.

He would not let Spider Queen or the rest of her crew find out about this, not to mention....her.

(If the Lady Bone Demon found out about his Hanahaki... well, she already has enough leverage as it is. Wukong isn't about to hand over any more.)

And then there was Demon Bull King. Wukong wasn't entirely sure how his old friend, (ex-friend, he reminded himself), would react, and honestly he wasn't too keen on finding out.

Still though.

The flowers always win in the end.

Wukong did his best to duck his head into his shoulder, and hoped it would be enough as his chest was wracked with coughs.

-

The Demon Bull King was many things, but he was not, in fact, stupid.

He had been quick to notice the growing panic on Wukong's face, (really, the monkey hadn't even tried to hide it, either due to being lost in thought or because he thought nobody was paying close enough attention to notice), and had decided to watch and see what the Monkey King would do next.

He hadn't expected Wukong to turn his head to the side, doing his upmost best to silence his coughing fit.

He'd expected the flower petals even less.

"You, of all people, haven't gathered up the strength to confess?" Demon Bull King asked, startling Wukong right out of his coughing fit. "I did not take you to be a coward."

"I take offense to that." Wukong wheezed, a few more petals falling from his mouth as he spoke. "Besides, I remember you taking forever to confess to Princess Iron Fan-"

"I'm not the one who held my words in long enough for them to take root and bloom." Demon Bull King said, "Who is the object your affections anyways?"

"None of your business." Wukong said, once again squirming within the confines of the webs. Demon Bull King raised an eyebrow, before glancing down at the petals now littering the floor. The flowers typically would hint at who the afflicted had a crush on, but Demon Bull King was too far away to be able to tell what flowers the petals belonged to.

If he were to hazard a guess though...

"The Six Eared Macaque?" He asked, proceeding to find great amusement in how Wukong's fur stood on end, panic flashing on his face. "Ah, so I'm right then-"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, his eyes flashing red. "Seriously, shut up. You can't tell anyone else about this-"

"Tell someone- I see flowers aren't the only nonsense your mouth spits out." Demon Bull King said. The red glow faded slightly from Wukong's eyes, as his expression shifted to confusion, with a small dash of hope.

"You... aren't going to tell anyone?" Wukong asked.

"And loose the precious blackmail material you have graced me with? Of course not!" Demon Bull King laughed, and Wukong sighed, sensing that somehow this would come back to bite him later.

-

Wukong forced his suitcase shut, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt as MK stared at him, unimpressed. Okay, so maybe 'going on a vacation' wasn't the best excuse to use, but Wukong couldn't afford to waste any time coming up with a better one.

He was ready for MK to be worried about training.

He wasn't ready for Mk to be worried about him.

"...Will you be okay?" MK asked, "I mean, you seem to not want anyone to know about your Hanahaki, but if you're with friends then you'll be surrounded by other people at all times, so-"

"Oh, it'll be fine." Wukong said, waving MK's concerns away. "Besides, if the flowers act up, I'll just rip out my lungs."

"Please do not do that!" MK said, the horrified look on his face making Wukong chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad." He said, "I've done it before."

"That does not make it better!" MK said, looking like he was about to start ranting, and Wukong took that as his cue that it was time to go.

-

MK pushed the exit door open, stumbling a little as he rushed into the alley way.

"Ugh- why did you do-.....that......" He said, voice trailing off as he registered that the alley way was empty.

Well. Seemingly empty.

One quick check with his true sight later, (he wasn't going to be falling for any tricks again), and MK was holding a dumpster over his head, revealing the shadow monkey that had been crouched down, hiding behind it. Macaque glanced up, his scarf covering his mouth and his fur bristling in shock as MK set the dumpster off to the side.

"So much for you having been a great warrior, huh?" MK said, crossing his arms and staring down at Macaque with an unimpressed expression.

"Uh- ah, so you figured that out, did you? Maybe you aren't as dense as you look." Macaque said, voice slightly raspy, as he stood up, trying to pretend he wasn't just hiding behind a dumpster-

Only for his scarf to slip down a little, allowing some golden flower petals to fall out. Macaque made quick work of snatching them out of the air, crushing them in his grip as he hid them behind his back, tail swishing nervously, but it was too late.

MK had seen.

"...Oh. Oh!" MK said, feeling torn between screaming in frustration or laughing in amusement over what had just been revealed to him. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Macaque said, sighing and breathing out a few more golden petals as he did so, completely unaware of how much this revelation had shaken MK's already very delicate mental state. "Seriously. I don't even know where you got the idea that I'm in love with someone or something like that, because I'm definitely not."

"I never said anything about you being in love." MK said, starting to lean more towards being amused at this entire situation as Macaque stiffened, his tail stilling. "I just said you had terrible taste- maybe I was implying your whole 'performance' with the shadow play back in the theatre was simply lackluster."

"I take offense to that." Macaque hissed, his shadow growing slightly bigger as his tail once again started to thrash back and forth, this time in anger. MK ignored this obvious attempt at intimidation for another question that was on his mind, a much more pressing one, in his opinion.

"You still haven't answered my question from earlier, why did you do that?" He asked, watching as Macaque took a minute to process the question, having not expected the sudden subject change.

"....Why did I do what- Oh! Why did I break the lantern, you mean?" Macaque said, suddenly avoiding eye contact, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab hold of the edge of his scarf as he chewed on the corner of his lip, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. "Well, I was going to do the whole 'watch the hero get tormented by their inner demons and insecurities' thing like all the other villains, but you seem to already be doing that to yourself so- yeah. Didn't want to bother using my own expansive list of abilities when I could just lay back and watch the show you were already putting on for me."

"But I thought you wanted to be center stage, not in the audience. Y'know, because you want to steal the spotlight from Monkey King." MK said, raising an eyebrow as Macaque's hand finally grabbed the edge of his scarf, and he started fiddling with it nervously. "Or well, either that or you want to share a stage with him."

Something must have been brought to the forefront of Macaque's mind when MK said that, as suddenly he was turning away, using his scarf to cover his mouth as he coughed. MK remained standing in front of him, arms crossed, waiting patiently for the shadow monkey's response.

"I- I have no intention of shar- sharing a stage." Macaque eventually wheezed, pulling his scarf back down as he spoke so that he could be heard clearly. MK amusedly noted that he could see some golden petals peeking out from within the confines of the red cloth. "Not now, not before, and not ever."

"Ah, sure, keep telling yourself that." Mk said, staring pointedly at the flower petals.

Macaque flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow!" MK said, recoiling, a hand going to his forehead to try and numb the sting, his eyes closing reflexively as he leaned back. "Why would you do that for-"

MK paused, blinking bewilderedly, as he realized Macaque was no longer in front of him, seemingly having vanished entirely, having used MK's momentary distraction to fade away into the shadows, only a single left behind flower petal revealing that he had ever actually been there.

If MK had used his true sight again then and there, he would've found that Macaque was now resting on top of one of the nearby rooftops.

As it was though, his friends burst through into the alley way, prepped with questions he wasn't ready to answer.

(Later, Macaque would severely regret failing to remember to warn MK of the danger that was approaching him. But that would be later, and now he fully intended on sneaking back into the theatre to retrieve his shadow lantern...)

-

Life on the ship honestly wasn't all that bad. Sure, MK had lost all of his powers, and there was the ever looming threat of the Lady Bone Demon, but ignoring all of that important stuff?

Life on the ship was actually rather nice.

"You know what? I think I could actually get used to living like this." MK said, leaning against the railing of the ship, letting the wind rustle his hair. Wukong hummed in agreement, sitting on the railing beside his successor.

"...When all this is said and done, we should take a vacation." He said, "A real vacation. Together this time."

"Can I bring my friends with me?" MK wasn't so sure he could handle leaving the others behind after everything that had happened.

"Sure, go right ahead, if that's what you want." Wukong said, shrugging. MK visibly brightened, and an idea struck him.

"Oh- and you could bring your friends along too, you know, the ones I haven't met yet!" He said, and Wukong stiffened.

"....Uh.... about that..." He started, and MK's smile fell, replaced with a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"...You lied about the whole 'having other friends' thing, didn't you." He said, looking his mentor up and down before rolling out another accusation. "You're far lonelier that I thought you were."

"...Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be, Kid." Wukong said, a sad, half-hearted smile on his face. MK tried to come up with a response, either a joke or maybe some comforting words (how do you even comfort an immortal, who has been through so much and had probably heard everything you could possibly say?)-

Only to be completely distracted as the ship was heavily rocked by something crashing into it. MK's grip tightened around the steel railing, steadying himself as he heard the others rush up to the deck, shouting in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, MK could see Wukong scramble to keep himself from falling over the side of the ship. (Which MK had to admit was... strange. Wukong had his whole cloud sail thing, he could fly, why would he be concerned about falling off?)

The rocking stopped, the ship steadying itself, and MK could smell smoke. Cautiously and slowly, he turned around, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of an attack, brought about by the Lady Bone Demon or one of her 'followers' (demons, that she had entranced to think that they were getting a good deal out of this, when in reality all she was doing was using them, with the full intent to throw them aside once they had served their purpose).

MK expected the broken bits and pieces of another, smaller ship, some parts still burning (and really, they should deal with those fire before they became a bigger problem. Sandy seemed to be running to get the fire extinguisher, so hopefully there wouldn't be any fire induced explosions today).

What he hadn't been expecting (but in hindsight, really should have been), was to see Red Son, standing in the center of the debris, nervously dusting the dirt off of his jacket, with Macaque laying face down on the deck behind him.

-

Red Son was having a very long day. Or, well, it had been about three days, really, but that wasn't the point here.

He brushed the remaining ship debris off of himself, making himself more 'presentable' while also purposefully prolonging the amount of time he could go without meeting the questioning gazes of MK and his friends.

Catching sight of the monkey still laying on the ground behind him, he turned and nudged Macaque with his foot.

"You really aren't making a good impression here." Red Son hissed, under his breath, knowing that the other's exceptional hearing meant that he could easily hear him.

"There truthfully isn't a good impression to be made." Macaque said, voice muffled by both the deck and his scarf, as he continued to lay face down, making no move to get up. "Not to mention, I'm feeling a little... singed, at the moment. Not everyone is as fire proof as you are, you- you hot headed fool."

The shadow monkey had, overall, been a great help in escaping from the Lady Bone Demon's dungeons, but Red Son wasn't past the point of kicking him in the side. Hard.

Macaque yelped in pain, curling up a little as though to shield himself, but continued to not even try to get up.

Red Son was unfortunately stopped from kicking the monkey again as he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with MK and Mei, their expressions completely neutral.

"Ah- Hello, Noodle Boy, Dragon Girl." Red Son said, politely nodding to each of them, trying to ignore his own nervousness (he did not feel like getting thrown off a ship today, thank you very much). MK and Mei said nothing, and Red Son began to wonder for a moment if crashing into their ship twice was somehow crossing a line.

But then both of them smiled, and Red Son braced himself just in time as Mei tackle-hugged him, MK laughing as he watched her do so.

"Wow, you really don't have much luck with vehicles and driving, on the ground or in the air, huh?" MK said, pushing a piece of debris from the miniature ship Red Son had flown in to the side with his foot. "Seriously, it's a wonder you ever managed to pass a driving test with skills like this."

"A driving what?" Red Son asked, immediately regretting it as both MK and Mei fixed him with a look of complete and utter horror.

"Oh heavens." Mei breathed, her grip on Red Son's shoulders growing almost uncomfortably tight. "You entered a race without knowing how to drive."

-

Too loud.

It was far, far too loud.

Still though, it was much better than being trapped down in the Lady Bone Demon's cold, dark, and desolate dungeons.

Or, at least, that is what Macaque thought to himself, even as he subtly pulled his scarf up over his ears, trying and failing miserably to block out the rumble of the engine, the hiss of the fires from the remains of their ship, the hushed whispers from Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy, and the trio's argument about Red Son's apparently non-existent drivers license.

(If he had known Red Son had never really, truly learned how to drive, Macaque wouldn't have let him pilot their escape ship.

...Albeit, Macaque himself wasn't all that much better, having had no idea as to what over half of the buttons in the ship were actually for.

Still though, he would have at least tried to land a perfect landing, instead of going all out on making sure they, quote, 'crashed in style', like what a certain hot tempered demon did.

Seriously Red Son. What the fuck.)

It took a few more minutes of laying there, trying to block everything out, before he realized that, over the roar of the engines and the trio's arguing, he couldn't hear where Wukong was.

...Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Macaque stiffened as a warm hand landed on his shoulder, its grip alternating between being soothing soft and threateningly tight.

"...Macaque?" Wukong's voice asked, and Macaque felt the unfortunately all too familiar twinge in both his chest and throat.

Ah. It was definitely a bad thing then.

-

Wukong pulled his hand back as Macaque abruptly stood up, stumbling away from him and towards the side of the ship. For a moment, Wukong genuinely wondered if Macaque planned to just jump off the ship, despite the fact that they were thousands of miles above ground.

But Macaque simply grabbed hold of the railing, leaning slightly over it, his shoulders shaking.

"What's the matter, are you sea sick already?" Mei asked, noticing Macaque's movement. "Or, wait, would it be air sick? Meh, it's probably the same thing..."

Macaque gave no response other than raising his hand to flip her off, which simply made her cackle like a mad man. Wukong would've walked right on over to him and smacked the shadow monkey for the rude gesture-

That is, if he hadn't been already preoccupied with covering up the petals his concern for the other had caused him to start coughing up.

Unseen by either of them, MK glanced back and forth between the two monkeys, seeing how Wukong tucked the petals into the pocket of his shirt, and spotting a few golden ones fluttering away from Macaque, carried by the wind. MK sighed, ignoring how Mei and Red Son, the two closest to him who had noticed his reaction, looked at him in confusion.

It was going to be a really long trip.

-

Macaque stirred a bowl full of cake mix, deeply lost in his thoughts.

You see, being stuck in a ship, thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by people, especially MK and the others, was a very stressful situation to be in. And unlike back at his dojo, Macaque didn't exactly have any training dummies to take said stress out on.

So, he naturally defaulted to another, less violent technique.

Stress baking.

Macaque had waited patiently in the shadows until Pigsy had left the kitchen to join the others up on the deck, and then had promptly taken over the entire room.

...He wasn't sure why he decided to make a chocolate cake though. He had really just been going through the motions, using the first thing he saw or what was directly in front of him, not feeling like putting in the effort to really search for anything else.

Well, at least thus far only MK had stumbled upon him like this, and the Monkey King's successor had been easily chased away by a purple glare and a hissed threat.

'...Although...' Macaque thought, stirring slowing down slightly as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, approaching him. 'Maybe saying that I was poisoning everything in the kitchen wasn't the best choice of threat.'

He very nearly dropped the bowl when Wukong entered the room.

"So." Wukong said, leaping up onto the counter and sitting down, cross-legged. "Poison, huh?"

Well. He might as well go along with it. No use in changing his excuse now.

"Yep." Macaque said, taking the spoon out of the bowl as he gestured at the room. "I'm so one hundred percent done with all of you, so I have decided to poison all of you. Finally get rid of the noise, have a bit of peace, you know?"

As he said this, he made the mistake of putting the spoon within Wukong's reach.

The Monkey King, spurred by nothing but his own impulsivity, leaned forwards and casually licked the edge of the spoon.

Macaque pulled the utensil back at record breaking speeds (he avoided putting it back into the bowl, he knew far better than to do that) and proceeded to stare at Wukong with the most offended expression he could manage.

Wukong completely ignored it.

"Your 'poison' happens to taste an awful lot like chocolate." He said, taking a glance around the kitchen, noting all the ingredients on the kitchen island, before looking Macaque up and down. "...Stress baking?"

"Poison." Macaque corrected, glaring at the other as he got a new spoon to stir with. "I'm making poison."

"...Poison for yourself, maybe." Wukong said, looking thoughtful, "If I remember right, you can't eat chocolate, can you?"

Macaque didn't bother to grace him with a response, instead turning his back to the other monkey, continuing to mix more ingredients into the bowl. It was blessedly silent for a while, but-

With Wukong sitting right behind him, watching his every move, even stress baking wasn't able to help Macaque relax.

Not to mention the flowers in his chest that were once again begging to make themselves known.

Macaque forced the flurry of emotions and petals back down as much as he could. He flicked an ear, listening behind him.

Wukong was still there. Why was he still there-

Macaque slammed the bowl down on the kitchen island, barely avoiding chipping it, and taking brief pleasure in how he could hear the Wukong's breath catch, before the Monkey King descended into a small coughing fit, probably from surprise at the shadow monkey's sudden movements. Macaque turned back around to face Wukong, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed, his tail swishing back and forth from agitation. Wukong's tail swished too, but Macaque could tell that his was a sign of nervousness.

"Ah, oh nothing." Wukong said, his hands behind his back as his legs swayed back and forth over the counter. "Just making sure you don't actually decide to poison anything."

"If I had poison, you and I both know that I would have used it already." Macaque said, "I don't even think there's anything I could even use as poison on this ship."

"...Point taken." Wukong said, leaning forwards and resting his chin on his right hand.

(He kept his other hand tucked in behind his back. Macaque did pick up on Wukong seemingly acting suspicious, but was far too focused on trying to get the Monkey King out of the kitchen to actually think much of it.

Something that Wukong was extremely grateful for, as it gave him the time to actually hide the crushed flower petals in his palm within one of his pockets.)

"Um, so uh, how do you know if the kid and the others are all okay?" Macaque asked, deciding to try a new tactic of getting Wukong out of the kitchen, hoping that the Monkey King's stupid over-protectiveness would prompt him to leave the room, which would let Macaque finally bake in peace.

"Oh, I left a hair clone with them." Wukong said, and Macaque slumped, his hopes dashed. "...Say, on a different subject, how do you know if it tastes good?"

"Huh?" Macaque asked, befuddled for a moment before remembering the cake bowl on the table behind him. "Oh- the cake? Well, I don't know really, usually I just sell it or something... Not that I really do this often, mind you! This isn't- I don't- I'm- wait. You want to taste test it more, to get free samples, don't you?"

Wukong simply gave a non-commital shrug, but the smirk on his face gave his intentions away. Macaque sighed wearily, before pulling a smaller spoon out of a nearby drawer with his tail, scooping a bit of cake batter into it, and tossing the spoon at Wukong, mentally willing the utensil to hit the Monkey King smack dab on the forehead.

The utensil, unfortunately, did not, in fact, obey Macaque's wills, as Wukong caught it with ease, and started licking the cake batter off of it, his tail wagging happily.

Macaque bit the inside of his cheek, nearly drawing blood as he used the pain to push the flowers in his throat back down, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he realized just how... cute the other looked in the current moment.

...No, nope, absolutely not-

Macaque spun back around, throwing himself entirely into the task of mixing the last of the ingredients together, and doing his upmost best to ignore the monkey sitting behind him.

Wukong's incessant humming was absolutely not helping in any way shape or form.

Things continued on, Macaque making the cake and occasionally tossing a batter covered spoon over his shoulder so that Wukong could taste it.

(Macaque silently told himself that he was doing it in the hopes that Wukong would become satisfied and leave, already-

But, deep down, he knew it was just because he liked seeing the other monkey happy.)

Macaque dumped the cake batter into a pan, setting the now empty mixing bowl off to the side before shoving the pan into the oven, and setting a small timer.

When he looked back over to where he had placed the mixing bowl, fully intent on washing it and proceeding to use it to make some icing, the bowl was gone.

"What the-" He started, looking around bewildered, before realizing what must have happened.

Sure enough, Wukong had the bowl on his lap, and was using a spoon to scrape the remaining cake batter out of it, to eat.

"...It's not like you were gonna use it anymore... right?" Wukong asked, almost looking sheepish as he realized Macaque was staring at him, and he curled around the bowl protectively.

Macaque glared at him, using his magic to make his eyes flash purple and make the room grow slightly darker.

"Get out of my kitchen before I retract my truce card and cash in on punching you in the face." He threatened.

Although the threat didn't hold much weight (Macaque would probably end up breaking his hand punching Wukong before he could ever hope to actually injure the other) Wukong still scrambled to get out of the room, taking the bowl and spoon with him as he went.

As Wukong rushed pass Macaque in his haste to leave, their tails lightly brushed together.

And that was the last straw for Macaque, who, once he was sure the other was gone, hurried to turn on the sink to cover up the sound of his coughing.

'..........Stupid monkey....' Macaque thought, leaning over the sink and watching flour and flowers go down the drain.

-

MK found Wukong in the hallway, with petals falling out of both the Monkey King's pocket and his mouth. He seemed to be spacing out, lost within his own thoughts.

He was still carrying the mixing bowl.

"...So I take it you didn't confess to Macaque?" MK asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"What- no- why on Earth would I confess?" Wukong asked, snapping out of his reverie. MK merely shrugged in response, but mentally he cursed.

'I was so sure that baking together would settle this whole mess once and for all.' He thought, watching as Wukong balance his bowl in one hand and softly rubbed a spot on his tail with the other. 'I guess it's back to the drawing board...

....Maybe the others would have some ideas?'

-

"How to get someone with Hanahaki to confess?" Tang asked, setting his book to the side. "MK, you know that's not really a thing you can force, I mean, look at how long it took Pigsy and I-"

"I know, I know, the both of you have told me about your confession, and how long it took to get there, multiple times." MK said, rolling his eyes. "But like, this is worse than you guys, which honestly, before now I didn't think it was possible, but. This has been going on for centuries."

"...I feel like there's a majorly important piece of information I'm missing here." Tang said, leaning forwards with renewed interest. "Who, exactly, has Hanahaki?"

MK paused, debating for a moment on whether or not he should actually tell him.

But, well, it was kind of obvious, and he seriously needed help getting the two of them together, so-

"Monkey King and Macaque." MK said, before adding, for clarification; "Both of them have it. For each other."

"Oh. Oh, that makes so much sense." Tang said, sounding as though pieces of a centuries old puzzle had magically connected right before his eyes. "...I'm sorry though, I can't help you."

"...Oh. Okay, I'll just ask someone else then-"

"However. I am not opposed to starting a betting pool."

-

"Hanahaki? Why would I know anything about Hanahaki?" Red Son asked, sounding oddly nervous as MK stood in the door way to his room. "...Why are you even asking me about it anyways?"

"Because Monkey King and Macaque have been pining for centuries, even back during the Journey to the West if the stories from Mei's great grandfather are to be believed, and while I've only been witness to a small portion of it, and I guess it's kinda been amusing, I am so done with it, like-" MK waved his hands around in frustration. "Why won't they just confess already?!"

"...I'm....sure they have their reasons." Red Son said, "What... did Mei say, about this, exactly?"

"Oh, she just laughed when I told her about it, and then cemented her place in the betting pool." MK said.

"There's a betting- Noodle Boy, why didn't you start with the betting pool?!"

-

Red Son had, in fact, already known about Macaque's Hanahaki.

That kind of thing was a little hard to miss when you're locked up in a cell with someone for an extended period of time.

Finding out Wukong also had Hanahaki came as a little bit of a surprise (though, really, now that he knew about it, it was kind of obvious, but as they say, 20/20 hindsight-).

Outside of making bets though, Red Son was mostly content to just sit back and watch the two monkeys stumble around each other. Sure, he did think their inability to confess made them cowards, but.

At least MK was too wrapped up in his frustration over the monkeys drama to notice the fire demon coughing up smoke and petals behind him.

-

Wukong slowly sneaked into the room, as quietly as he possibly could. Staying low to the ground, he tip toed over to the shelf, cautiously reaching up-

Only for someone to grab a hold of his hand, stopping him from reaching his prize. A nearby lamp flicked on, and Wukong looked up to see Sandy intently staring down at him.

"...Hi." Wukong said, laughing nervously as he slipped his hand out of Sandy's grip. "Um. I totally wasn't sneaking around or anything, I was just... sleep walking?"

"...I see." Sandy said, reaching over and taking one of the tea tins off of the shelf. "In that case, this one right here will do wonders to improve your sleep-"

"Ah, oh, no thank you, it's fine, I can handle it." Wukong said, subtly scanning the shelf of teas, slumping slightly when he couldn't seem to find the one that he wanted. Upon seeing the monkey's dejected face, Sandy sighed.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, pulling a tin of tea out from behind his back. Wukong looked at it in shock.

"How'd you-" He started.

"It was just a lucky guess." Sandy said, setting the tin in Wukong's waiting hands. "Use it sparingly though, I'm running a little low on supplies right now. Oh, and be careful with the side effects, okay? Stop taking it if anything seriously bad starts to happen."

"...Thank you." Wukong said, pocketing the tea tin and turning to leave Sandy's room.

"Oh, one more thing." Sandy said, causing Wukong to pause mid-step. "The next time you try sneaking around in the dark, use a stronger glamour over your eyes. The glow seriously gives you away."

"...Duly noted."

-

It smelled like smoke.

That was the first thing Macaque noticed as he stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the storage room. Immediately, he tensed up, his fur standing on end. After all, where there was smoke, there was usually fire as well. And although Macaque would never, never admit it... he wasn't exactly the most... fond of fire.

(A capture hero, trapped and unaware.

A burning mountain, the air choked by smoke.

And an abandoned warrior, trying desperately to escape the mountain's flames.)

But... Macaque couldn't hear any of the noises that usually accompanied something burning. Instead all he could hear was someone's slightly irregular heart beat, and their wheezing breaths.

Macaque forced himself to walk forwards, curiosity starting to over power his caution.

He rounded the shelf of boxes just in time to see Red Son cough out more smoke, along with a few burnt petals.

Macaque paused, knowing the other had yet to actually see him, as he pondered what to do next. His hands twitched towards the edge of his scarf, but he kept himself frozen.

On the one hand, he could just turn around and leave before Red Son could even notice him. As was said before, Macaque was truly not very fond of fire, and despite having spent at least two days trapped with the fire demon, Macaque hadn't really gotten over his general...wariness of him.

On the other hand though, now that he'd seen the other demon, Macaque's curiosity was peaked.

...Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so-

"Who's it for?" Macaque asked, chuckling a little to himself as Red Son startled, finally noticing the other's presence.

"What?" He asked, looking at the shadow monkey in shock and confusion.

"Your Hanahaki." Macaque elaborated, "Who is it for, Mei or MK?"

Red Son remained silent for another moment, blinking in confusion, before the question, along with what was currently happening, seemed to register within his brain, and a furious blush over took his face, a few sparks flying off of him.

(At the sight of said sparks, Macaque took a hesitant step back, glancing around for anything that was possibly flammable.

Red Son was far too wrapped up within his own emotions to notice the monkey's anxiety.)

He sputtered for a moment, struggling and failing to come up with a proper response.

"...Both. It's, It's both of them." He eventually muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with Macaque as he shyly rubbed his arm.

"What was that? Sorry, I didn't hear you the first time, could you say that again?" Macaque said, not at all surprised by this new development and instantly deciding that now was the perfect opportunity to mess with the fire demon.

"You damn well did hear me and we both know it." Red Son said, shifting from flustered to angry in the blink of an eye.

...Macaque outright laughed at hm.

"Oh, oh, like you're one to laugh." Red Son said, "I know all about your thing for Monkey King. You're in the same boat as I am, both literally and figuratively."

"...Okay, first of all, we are in an airship, not a boat." Macaque said, leaning 'casually' against a wall of supply boxes. "Secondly- I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Why haven't you confessed yet?" Red Son said, moving on with his line of thinking and completely ignoring the shadow monkey's denial.

"Conf- I, I could ask you the exact same question!" Macaque said, caught off guard before pulling himself together and recovering. "Why haven't you confessed?"

"I, am simply waiting for the right time. I'm planning a big romantic gesture, I'll have you know." Red Son said, "You, on the other hand, are simply being a pining idiot."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque denied yet again, a slight growl making it's way into his voice as his eyes flashed purple.

Red Son wasn't impressed.

"Your pitiful attempts at denial and intimidation have little to no effect on me." He said, "Seriously, just admit that you're in love with Monkey King already. Pretty much everyone else already knows about it."

"...I won't say I'm in love."

"Do not start the random musical numbers again, you already did it far too many times when we were trapped together in that cell, and if I have to bear one more minute of it I will not hesitate to toss you overboard."

-

The tea was bitter.

Very bitter.

Still though, it tasted leagues better than weed killer, which had been a not very well though through experience that Wukong never ever wanted to repeat.

And the tea worked better too, repressing, the flowers better than humming or the previously stated weed killer ever could.

Still though, there was a reason as to why Wukong had never opted to try this method before.

Said reason, of course, being the side effects.

He sighed, staring at how there were now purple flecks within his red eyes. Nothing that his usual glamours couldn't cover, but his magic was dwindling fast. He would have to start cutting a few corners soon if he didn't want to end up completely and utterly powerless, and the glamours concealing his height and eye colour would probably end up having to be the first ones to go.

Other than that though, it was concerning that the eye colour change was happening so soon, not to mention the speed at which it was progressing. A change in eye colour was the most common starting side effect of repressing Hanahaki, after that... things start to tend to become strange and rather unpredictable. The list of side effects caused by repressing Hanahaki was miles long, and was always having new things added to it- the reaction seemed to always depend on the person.

Basically, Wukong had literally no idea of what the side effect would be for him, nor how he could prepare for them.

And, of course, this meant he wouldn't be able to know how to hide them either.

-

When Wukong woke up the next morning and found that his eyes had already turned fully purple, a faint sense of unease settled itself over him like how a morning mist settles in a forest. He supposed he should've expected this to happen quick, he was repressing thousands of years of pining after all, but still, he hadn't been expecting it to progress this fast....

He felt fine though, nothing different than usual. (He did feel a bit weaker, but that had already been happening before the tea. No, that was something else.) For a moment he wondered if his immortality had made him completely immune to any possible side effects, but immediately shot that idea down, as if that had been the case, his eyes wouldn't have changed colour at all.

Wukong exited his room, throwing his usual glamours back on just in case, and made his way to the ship's kitchen as quietly as possible, he'd awoken a bit earlier than usual this morning, and didn't want to accidentally wake any of the others up.

Warming up the kettle and taking the tea tin out of the pocket (he sadly noted that it was almost empty already), he carefully followed the instructions on the side of the tin, not wanting to mess anything up and risk the tea not working.

A few minutes later, and Wukong sat at the kitchen table, spacing out a little as he slowly sipped his Hanahaki Repressing Tea.

He was starting to almost fall asleep in his chair when Pigsy entered the kitchen.

"Morning." Pigsy greeted, looking Wukong up and down with a mix of worry and suspicion. "You're not usually up this early, is something wrong?"

'No, I'm fine, perfectly fine.' Was what Wukong wanted to say.

Instead though, no sound left his mouth at all.

Oh.

Oh shit.

-

It wasn't every day that someone say Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, speechless.

Today, however, seemed to be one of the days where he was.

Pigsy watched as Wukong's mouth clicked shut, panic briefly flashing across his face before being replaced with an easily recognizable nervous smile as the monkey drew his tea cup closer to himself, as though to hide it. Pigsy rolled his eyes, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Wukong, immediately noticing how the monkey avoided eye contact entirely.

"Experiencing the side effects, huh?" Pigsy asked, "Don't give me that surprised look. Even if Sandy hadn't told me about you taking the tea, you're being rather obvious right now."

Wukong visibly winced at that, sipping his tea again.

"How exactly do you plan to get through the day without being able to talk huh?" Pigsy asked, leaning forwards slightly. "Surely you must have some plan prepared."

Wukong started to shake his head no, to show that he didn't, in fact, have any plan here, but then he paused, looking thoughtful.

A sudden pang ran through Pigsy's mind, and he gripped the sides of his head, looking down at the table as he winced, trying to collect himself, feeling as though he'd been set off balance.

"-an you hear me?" Wukong's voice was faint and echoey, before growing stronger. "Can you hear me? Hello-"

"Yes I can fucking hear you." Pigsy said, looking back up, and proceeding to be almost shocked (but at the same time really not) to find that there were now two Wukong's sitting across from him. The new Wukong was obviously Wukong's golden astral projection form, as it perfectly matched how MK had described it.

Or well, it almost matched perfectly...

"Oh, good." Wukong said, via astral connection, "I wasn't sure this would work, but since it does I can just talk to the others like this-"

"Does this form of yours normally look like.... well, that?" Pigsy asked, interrupting.

"...What?" Wukong took a moment to analyze his astral form.

Unlike MK's description of it being 'Monkey King but in gold, like a shiny pokemon', Wukong currently had three tails, one pink, one red, and one purple. Said colours were also splashed all over his astral body, almost giving him a sunset-like appearance.

"...Huh. That's new." Wukong said, "I guess the side effects go deeper than I thought."

"Is this something we should be more concerned about?" Pigsy asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, no, it's fine. At least, it's far better compared to everything else. Maybe. Probably." Wukong said, the nervous smile on both his real self and his astral self growing slightly bigger.

"...Everything else? Probably?" Pigsy questioned, sitting up straighter with worry.

"...Ah, you weren't meant to hear that part." Wukong said, wincing. "Which I suppose that means it's time for me to go-"

"Hey, wait-" Pigsy started, but didn't manage to get any words out as Wukong abruptly closed the astral connection, before standing up and leaving the room faster than the other could ever hope to follow. Pigsy sighed as he caught the barest glimpse of Wukong's tail going out the door.

That damn monkey was definitely going to need a serious intervention one of these days.

-

"Monkey King this is an intervention." MK said, crossing his arms as he tried to do his best impersonation of one of Tang's infamous glares. He assumed he failed miserably, given Mei's muffled snickering, but Wukong at least shrunk down sheepishly, so he must've been doing something right.

MK sighed as a pang ran through his head, having expected it- before blinking in shock at the astral image that now stood before him.

"Why do I need an intervention? I'm perfectly fine." Wukong said, both his real self and his astral self smiling nervously- and the three other astral copies of him mimicked the motion. One was pink, one was purple, and one was red. They were each surrounded by a faint golden glow, and were each connected to the main golden astral version of Wukong by their tails.

"You- you are definitely not fine!" MK shouted, still having not recovered from the shock, and wasn't given any more time to try and process what he was seeing as the three bonus Wukong's started speaking.

"Shit." The red one hissed, frustration in his voice. "Fuck." (MK blinks, shocked to hear any version of his mentor swear, and immediately decides to smack Wukong on the arm the next time his mentor tries to reprimand him for swearing.)

"At least he's learning how to read people better, now he won't get tricked as easily." The pink one said, sounding almost....proud?

"I won't be able to trick him anymore either- He's catching on. He's starting to catch on now-" The purple one said, panicked. "I need to lie, lie lie lie-"

"Once again, I don't know what you're talking about." The golden, normal Wukong insisted, seemingly ignorant to the existence of the others.

MK had, of course, set up this intervention to talk about how Wukong tended to repress his emotions, (specifically those concerning a certain shadow monkey), but he definitely hadn't been prepared for... whatever all this is.

"Are you fucking seeing this?" He asked Mei.

"I'm not seeing shit." Mei said, wrapping her arm around MK's shoulder and lightly knocking their heads together, as though doing so would transfer the images that MK was seeing into her own brain.

"Language." All four astral Wukong's said, in perfect unison, and MK reached over and smacked the real Wukong on the arm for his hypocrisy.

The hastily put together intervention steadily went downhill from that point forwards, Mei complaining about not having been let in to the Astral Connection, and Wukong closing said connection the instant that MK had revealed the existence of the astral copies to him. The Monkey King had left the room rather swiftly after that, and MK sighed, for what seemed to be the millionth time since he'd found out about his mentor's Hanahaki.

He would have to do a much better, and much more well put together intervention next time.

-

Wukong ended up running out of tea the next day.

On the one hand, this was a good thing, as it meant he would only have to wait a day or so for the side effects to finally wear off, and he could go back to actually speaking again.

But on the other hand, this meant that he'd be back to coughing up flowers again, much, much sooner than he would like.

Wukong sighed, leaning against the railing of the ship, watching the sunset. He could probably jump off the ship and find the materials needed to make the tea himself, but without his cloud sail, it would certainly cost him precious time.

Time that he currently absolutely could not waste.

So he resigned himself to what would have to happen, and tried to mentally prepare himself for the flowers that would return within the next twenty four hours.

.....For some reason, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched....

-

In his many years of having known Wukong, Macaque had never seen him be quiet.

But he sure was quiet now, leaning against the ship railing, peacefully watching the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

(The fading colours of the sun reflected perfectly off of Wukong's fur, covering the other in golds, red, purples, and pinks, and overall making him look really pre-

No, nope, Macaque absolutely could not think about that right now, if he started coughing up flowers here and now it was sure to be noticed, and he absolutely couldn't have that happen.)

Macaque really wanted to consider the silence a blessing, finally, a break from the seemingly endless amount of chitter-chatter-

But instead, he couldn't help but feel worried.

Sliding back down to hide behind the crate he'd been sitting on before Wukong had come out onto the deck twenty minutes ago, Macaque lightly chewed on the edge of his scarf, thinking.

Option one: he waltzes over there, throws on a Perfect Smile, and asks Wukong what's wrong. Maybe he could even throw in a jab or two, or say it sarcastically in order to hide his very real concern.

Option two: he sneaks past Wukong, reenters the ship, and hides out inside of his room until he feels confident enough that these stupid emotions have passed.

Macaque was just deciding on option two- when the shadows surrounding him shifted.

Glancing up, he found that Wukong was now holding the crate the shadow monkey had been hiding behind over his head, and was staring down at him, unimpressed.

"...Hi?" Macaque said, letting the edge of his scarf fall out of his mouth and glamouring away any sign that he'd been chewing on it in the first place. "Um. Fancy meeting you here?"

If possible, Wukong's unimpressed look deepened.

"I was- I was here first, I'll have you know." Macaque said, hurriedly standing up, brushing non-existent dirt off of his clothes. "I don't really appreciate you encroaching on my personal space."

Wukong's expression did not waver, but he did set the crate down to the side, so at least Macaque no longer had to worry about having it be thrown at him. Still though, Wukong continued to stare, so maybe he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"So uh, what's with the whole silent act, huh?" Macaque asked, trying his best to be nonchalant about it. He hoped the response would be something meaningless, like a silly little bet or something along those lines.

He didn't expect to receive no verbal response at all, with Wukong's expression shifting away from unimpressed to something Macaque immediately identified as nervous.

Which....probably meant that this really was something to be concerned about.

Which probably also meant that asking any more about it would eventually result in some kind of long, emotional talk, which absolutely was not Macaque's forte.

...Well, he'd been planning to go with option number two from the beginning, so-

"Welp, this was a nice talk." Macaque said, "But, unfortunately, I have some other stuff that need to be tended to so.... bye!"

And with that, Macaque awkwardly flashed a peace sign, before falling down into the shadows, reappearing within the comforts of his own room. Deciding that he'd definitely had enough for one day, he crawled into his bed, pulling the covers over his head and trying his best to banish any thoughts of Wukong from his mind as he fell asleep.

-

He'd tried to sleep.

Really, he'd tried.

But after his third petal coughing fit of the night (courtesy of his brain refusing to forget how beautiful Wukong looked in the light of the sunset), Macaque gave up.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the couch, staring at the shadows on the wall, letting his mind play tricks on himself, making it seem like the darkness was moving.

He startled when he heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway.

Macaque wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been up for, but something told him that it was still far too early for even the early-risers to be up and about.

It was at the exact moment that someone sluggishly entered the room that Macaque remembered his glamours were down, and he tensed, knowing it was far too late and that he was far too tired to throw them on now.

He relaxed ever so slightly once he realized that the one who had entered the room had seen him glamourless multiple times before.

...Still though. What was Wukong doing up so late?

"...Got nightmares? I hope they're all about me." Macaque said, almost instantly cringing at the words coming out of his mouth, wanting to take them back and shove them into whatever sleep deprived corner of his mind they had come from.

Funnily enough though, Wukong didn't react at all, there wasn't even a small twitch of the ear or tilt of the head to even indicate that the other had even heard him.

There was a beat of silence, and Macaque chewed on the edge of his scarf, distracting himself from the awkwardness of it all by focusing on the sounds of the ship at night.

The beeping of the autopilot, the whir of the engines, the quiet sleeping sounds of the others, Wukong's steady, slow heart beat...

His.... slow heart beat...

"Oh" Macaque breathed, his voice partially muffled as he still had part of his scarf in his mouth. "You're sleep walking."

A contradictory mixture of concern and relief flooded through him at this realization. For a moment he just sat there, watching as Wukong continued to sluggishly make his way around the room.

And then Wukong bumped into the edge of the coffee table, and Macaque got up in record time, ready to catch the other if he fell-

Only to pull himself back as Wukong righted himself, still fast asleep. Macaque sighed, sitting back down on the couch. Why had he even been worried? There was literally nothing to worry about here, Wukong was literally invulnerable, he'd be fine. This was fine.

He rescinded that thought when Wukong suddenly turned, slowly but surely making his way towards Macaque. The shadow monkey watched the other's approach warily, stiffening when Wukog clumsily crawled onto the couch beside him.

Macaque stayed as still as possible, practically frozen, and partially hoping Wukong would get back up and sleep walk his way back to his own bed.

That, of course, didn't happen, and Macaque barely bit back a gasp, the edge of his scarf falling from his mouth to rest on his lap, as Wukong's tail found and curled around Macaque's own.

'Okay.' Macaque thought, feeling the flowers surge within his chest, as well as a faint tingling sensation covering most of his body (it had been a while, since he'd had any positive affection). 'Okay. I can handle this.'

And then Wukong leaned against him, his head resting on Macaque's shoulder.

'I can not handle this.'

-

When Wukong woke up in the early morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was not, in fact, in his bedroom.

'Ah. I slept walked again.' He thought, wincing, slowly pushing himself up. '...At least I didn't collapse in the middle of the hallway or inside of MK's room this time...'

The second thing he noticed was fabric sliding off of him, landing in a pool on the floor.

Leaning over and picking it up, he instantly identified it as Macaque's scarf.

He'd. Been sleeping while curled around Macaque's scarf.....

Almost immediately, he started coughing, purple petals falling from his mouth.

'Well. There goes the last effects of the tea.'

(When Macaque opened his door later on in the after noon, he would find his scarf sitting on the floor in front of him, perfectly folded.

He would find a singular purple petal within it upon unfolding it, but immediately dismiss it as being unimportant.)

-

"Why is it a forest, why did the engine need to malfunction and land us in a forest." Macaque complained, laying in the shadow of a tree, staring up into the branches as though the tree would give him an answer.

"Hey, it's better than a mountain." Wukong said, setting down a glass of lemonade beside the other monkey, before turning to hand another one off to Tang. (Pigsy had, for reasons unknown, made Wukong act as his waiter for the day. Nobody was quite sure why, and from the way Wukong glared whenever the subject was brought up, they figured it was best not to ask). "Can you hear how MK and the others are doing though, they've been gone for a while..."

"Why don't you just use your cloud to go check on them?" Macaque groaned, but still did what had been asked of him, tilting his head to the side, listening intently. After a moment, he was able to pin point the trio's voices. As for what they were saying....

Macaque smirked.

"They're fine." He said, "Although, they might be another few minutes before they come back."

When the trio came out of the forest wearing flower crowns, Macaque mentally cheered.

(After somebody with Hanahaki confesses, the flowers need somewhere to go. Usually they simply pop out of the ground around the person who has confessed.

It was a popular tradition to make and wear flower crowns using said flowers if your love was reciprocated.)

"Oh, did Red Son finally confess?" Tang asked, "We've been waiting on that for like. Ever."

"Oh heavens- Was I the only one who didn't know?" MK said, hiding his face in his hands.

"Oh no, I don't think Monkey King here knew either." Sandy said, lightly patting Wukong on the head. Wukong had been adorned with a look of utter shock since the trio had returned, but now he finally broke out of his surprise, and before the trio could even think to move, Wukong had grabbed hold of them, lifting them up a little in an excited hug.

"Oh my gosh- I'm so happy for you!" He said, only putting them down as Red Son started struggling. "We've- we've gotta throw a party- Pigsy can we throw a party-"

Macaque rolled his eyes, blocking out the current party planning, going back to staring at the sky through the tree branches.

"...Macaque."

Macaque looked over to see Red Son standing beside him.

"...Yes?" Macaque asked.

"...I'm braver than you are."

"What the fuck does that mean-"

-

Of course, Wukong had ended up deciding that they couldn't have the party on the ship. For some reason or another, he was utterly convinced that this party had to be big, which, of course, meant that there had to be a large space to hold it in.

...Had the situation been different, he would've brought everyone to Flower Fruit Mountain.

As it was, he found the next best thing.

"How the fuck did you know about my family hide out?" Red Son asked, watched as Wukong knocked three times on the door.

"You forget I was friends with your father, Red Boy." Wukong said, sending Red Son a smirk. "Oh, and watch your language."

The rest of the group stood slightly behind them, some of them prepared to run away if, somehow, this went awry.

Luckily enough, they didn't have to worry. Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan took the fact that Red Son was now dating his former enemies surprisingly well, and were fully willing to let them use the base to hold a party.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, ended up being the one to regret the decision to come here, the realization that maybe he had made a mistake hitting when Demon Bull King grabbed him by the back of his scarf, lifting him into the air. Wukong went slack immediately, knowing that struggling would be futile.

"The rest of you can keep sorting things out." Demon Bull King said, "I would like to have a few.... words with the simian."

And with that he turned, walking out of the room and bringing Wukong with him.

-

Demon Bull King entered a smaller room, reaching and closing the door behind him as he did so. Unceremoniously, he let go of Wukong's scarf and let the monkey drop down to the floor. Wukong let out an 'oof' as he hit the solid concrete.

"Ow." He hissed, glaring up at Demon Bull King. "Ya could have been a little more gentle there, Bull King."

"You can handle it." Demon Bull King said, "Now, onto the real matter of business. You haven't confessed yet, have you."

"What? Oh, is that what this is all about- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about." Wukong said, laughing nervously. Demon Bull King stared down at him, unimpressed.

"So I'm right, you really still haven't confessed." Demon Bull King sighed, "Really, I expected better from you. Oh well, I suppose it is a good thing that my son is braver than you, not that that's very hard."

"Ouch." Wukong said, slightly jokingly. "You...really aren't pulling back your punches today huh."

"You trapped me under a mountain. I can be permitted to throw a few heavy hits." Demon Bull King said, "As it is though, if you do not confess sooner rather than later, you may miss your chance."

"Huh?"

"Do not make me out to be a fool, Sun Wukong. I can see the way your body grows weaker." Demon Bull King stared pointedly at a scrape Wukong had gotten on his hand when he'd been dropped onto the floor. Wukong, following the other's gaze, hid it behind his back. "You can't hide it from me. A month ago that fall would've been nothing to you. The Lady Bone Demon has affected you more than you're letting on."

"...So what if she has?" Wukong asked, "It's fine, it doesn't really mean anything, my powers will come back to their full strength sooner or later, you know."

"When I carried you, you weighed a little heavier than you used to."

"Hey now, don't go making comments about my weight!" Wukong said, letting the glamour on his eyes drop so that he could give Demon Bull King the red-eyed glare. "Seriously, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but just, drop it, okay?"

"...If that is what you wish." Demon Bull King sighed, opening the door and standing slightly to the side in order to let Wukong through first. "Promise me one thing though, for the sake of our old friendship."

"...Of course."

"Please confess before the time runs out."

"I'll... I'll try."

-

The party had been great.

In fact, the party had been spectacular.

Which was why, of course, that merely a week after the party, their luck seemingly ran out.

One of the Lady Bone Demon's 'followers' attacked the group during a supply run. Somehow, someway, Wukong and Macaque had managed to draw it away from the others, giving the rest of the group ample time to get the ship loaded and get everyone to a safe place.

Now all the two monkeys had to do was find a way for themselves to escape.

Macaque ducked under a wave of magic, glancing over at Wukong, hoping that the other would have some kind of plan.

He could immediately tell from the look on the other's face that he did not, in fact, have any sort of plan.

Macaque kept dodging as he watched Wukong impulsively take the offensive, sliding under a wave of magic, running up and jumping to kick the demon in the face- Only for the demon to catch him by the foot, spinning him around and tossing him. Wukong's back slammed against the mountain they'd ended up fighting beside, and he fell onto one knee for a moment.

And then he slowly stood back up, his fur messed up. He used his sleeve to wipe some blood away from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning red and oh-

Oh, that was kinda hot-

Macaque immediately cursed letting himself get distracted, as the flowers grew in his chest, and he stumbled, wheezing as a few golden petals fell out of his mouth.

A wave of magic hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground and sending him skidding over to where Wukong now stood.

"Shit- are you okay?" Wukong asked, keeping one eye on the demon, who simply watched them in slight amusement, as he helped the shadow monkey back to his feet. Macaque glanced between the demon and Wukong, feeling the flowers in both his throat and his mouth.

Fuck, he wouldn't be able to win this fight if he stayed like this, in this state.

...Which only left him one option.

Taking only the barest of seconds to prepare himself, Macaque grabbed a hold of both side of Wukong's face, ignoring the monkey's confused squeak as he made sure their eyes met.

"I love you." Macaque said, a single petal falling out of his mouth.

"...I love you too?" Wukong said, confusion and shock filling his face.

"Wait, what?" Macaque asked, but was given no time to question it as the demon seemingly had enough of waiting, and threw a whip of magic at them, the two monkeys having to separate from each other and leap to different sides in order to avoid the attack. As the dust from the attack settled, Macaque locked eyes with Wukong again, the Monkey King's face coloured with a blush, looking shocked, and Macaque was sure the expression was reflected on his own face.

"You love me too?!" He asked, sliding to the side, to avoid another attack.

"Yes!" Wukong shouted, backflipping out of the way of a burst of flame.

"Then why did you say it as a question?!" Macaque asked, slowly making his way back over to the other monkey while avoiding the demon's attempts to hit him at the same time.

"I don't know, why did you confess in the middle of a fight!?" Wukong asked, mirroring the other monkey's movements.

"It seemed like the best option!" Macaque said, leaping over top of another magic whip, spinning around and finding himself back to back with Wukong. "I- I didn't really think it through."

"And people say that I'm the impulsive one." Wukong muttered, deflecting a beam of magic away from them with his wrist.

"I heard that." Macaque hissed, turning ever so slightly to glare at him.

"I know." Wukong said- before turning and knocking Macaque to the ground, just in time for a blade to go sailing over top of them. "When did he get a scythe?!"

"How should I know?!" Macaque asked- before his ear twitched, and he grabbed Wukong's shoulders, rolling the both of over to the right, swapping their positions as the ground where they had previously been suddenly broke apart, a spike rising out of it. Both of them stared at it in shock, before glancing back at each other.

"Well, there's one thing that I think we both know." Wukong said, as Macaque stood up, pulling Wukong to his feet along with him. They both turned to glare at the demon. "And it's that we're starting to get real sick of this guy."

"...You know, I hear that there's a solar eclipse coming up." Macaque said, and Wukong immediately smirked.

The demon sent another blast of magic, and, still holding hands, the two of them stepped to the side, Macaque even taking things one step further, twirling Wukong as they dodged the blast, before pulling away, giving the Monkey King a small bow before falling down into the shadows. Wukong, smirk still wide on his face, turned to face the demon with a determined look.

Running forwards, swiftly moving left and right to stay out of the way of the demon's attacks, Wukong got himself right up in the demon's face. Jumping, he flipped backwards, hitting the demon in the chin with his foot as he did so, before landing on his feet slightly further back than he'd been before.

The demon rubbed his chin, eyes blazing with anger, and Wukong laughed.

"C'mon, is this the best you can throw at me?" He taunted, practically dancing out of the way of the spikes that shot out of the ground at him. "Surely you can do better than this!"

The demon growled, not seeing the trap for what it was, summoning his scythe and charging forwards. Wukong stayed where he was, smirk still firm in place on his face.

When the blade was almost close enough for Wukong to taste the tang of the metal, the shadows in front of him shifted.

Macaque shot up from the shadows, with a spear made out of the darkness, easily blocking the demon's attack, his eyes glowing purple as he stepped forwards, shadows still trailing and swirling around his feet as he forced the demon to take a step back.

The demon grit his teeth, so focused in trying to keep Macaque advancing any further- that he failed to notice as Wukong slid beside him, his eyes glowing red as he took power away from his glamours and channeled it into making sure this punch was the last one.

The strike hit, and Macaque stepped back, his fur rustled by the wind as the demon was sent flying past him, slamming into the mountain, hard.

The two monkeys stood there for a moment, panting, staring at the demon's prone form.

A minute passed, and that was all it took for the two of them to confirm that the demon was not going to be getting back up.

A sigh of relief left the two of them, Wukong falling down to sit on the ground, while Macaque slumped, leaning against his spear as the two of them took a moment to finally relax.

Only to jump as a field of yellow chrysanthemums and purple, flowering wisterias appeared around them.

The two of them stared around themselves in shock for a moment, Macaque dispelling his spear as he sank down to the ground beside Wukong. A breeze flew by, knocking loose a few petals, mixing yellow and purple together.

"...You know, I can't decide if these flowers are hilariously late or perfectly on time." Macaque said, and Wukong laughed.

"Say, who do you think has more flowers for them?" He asked, and the both of them took a second to think about it, looking out over the field. Wukong abruptly stood up. "Why don't we make some clones to help and find out?"

Macaque laughed, standing up and summoning his own shadow clones as Wukong blew on a few of his hairs, and they went to work, counting flowers.

...In the end, they ended up giving up after the third recount also ended up in a tie.

-

When the two of them finally returned to the ship, adorn in matching flower crowns, MK took one look at them, a brief expression of shock flickering on his face, before he fell backwards onto the couch, a strangled laugh escaping him.

"Fucking finally!"

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 18 - Sleepless Night [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Midnight texts make things complicated.

Series Masterlist

Okay.

Everything considered, maybe you shouldn’t have barged in guns blazing to your fake boyfriend’s mission.

Especially because the said fake boyfriend thought you were a sweet civilian but as long as you kept your ski mask on, you figured you would be fine.

Even if it felt a lot like pushing your luck.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked and you looked around the hall to check whether there was anyone else, then shrugged your shoulders.

“I was in the area,” you said, “So, who else are we killing?”

“We’re not killing.”

“Speak for yourself, I just killed that guy over there.” You pointed over your shoulder “Killed him hard. HYDRA?”

“Aren’t you a sniper?”

“I can be whoever you want me to be,” you said with a grin and Bucky blinked a couple of times, shifting his weight.

“Why aren’t you on some rooftop if you’re a sniper?”

“Change of scenery. How do you know my alias?”

“Why would you help me?”

“I’m a nice person—“ you started but as soon as you saw someone lunging out of the shadows you pointed your gun and pulled the trigger, sending the guy to the ground.

“Most of the time,” you completed your sentence and Bucky raised his brows.

“Right.”

“You’re still taken?” you asked and he stared at you as if he was at loss for words, then pulled himself together and walked past you.

“Oh come on, I just saved your ass.”

“I had it under control.”

“No you didn’t,” you rushed to catch up with him, “And you didn’t answer my question. You still got a girl at home?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just curious. Is she pretty?”

“Do you always flirt with people you don’t know?”

You opened your mouth to retort but before you could, you heard a voice behind you.

“Buck, what the hell man?”

You looked over your shoulder to see Sam gawking at you and Bucky cleared his throat.

“Um….Sam, Shrike.”

“Okay, what is she doing here?”

“Beats me.”

“I was around,” you answered helpfully, “So who are we killing?”

“We’re not killing!” Bucky and Sam said at the same time and you held up your hands.

“Jesus, fine. Who are we maiming?”

“Did you tell her—“

“I didn’t tell her anything.” Bucky cut him off, looking uncomfortable for some reason. You hummed, clicking your tongue.

“I’m just here to help.”

“Why?” Sam asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m a huge fan?”

“Try again.”

“I’m hoping he’ll get with me.” You pointed at Bucky with your thumb, making him shake his head. Sam raised his brows, a grin pulling at his lips.

“Oh is that right?”

“Don’t.” Bucky said while you heaved a sigh.

“Listen guys, not that I don’t enjoy this but this is basically a HYDRA building, so you might want to make it fast, whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Can you wait at the door while I get—the thing?” Sam asked Bucky and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Great!”

“I didn’t say you could come.” Bucky said and you scoffed.

“I gotta tell you, I was hoping you would say that to me in a completely different context.”

Sam let out a chuckle, “Oh she’s good.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I don’t even want to know what you’re trying to get, okay?” you asked, “I just want to make sure no one dies.”

“Because you’re a nice person?” Bucky asked, his voice full of doubt and you thought for a moment.

“Eh, I have my reasons.”

“But she has a point, we need to make it fast.” Sam said, “Let’s go.”

“Seriously?!” Bucky groaned but rushed after him with you following his lead. After you all reached the end of the hall, Sam kicked the door open and you quickly peeked inside to see a computer in the middle of the office.

Ah.

They were after some sort of a file.

“Don’t let anyone in,” Sam said and closed the door behind him. You leaned your back to the wall, flipping a knife in your hand and Bucky stole a look at you.

“Why Shrike?”

You turned your head, “Hm?”

“Why do they call you Shrike?”

You clicked your tongue, “Oh you wouldn’t get it,” you said and he tilted his head.

“Try me,” he said, “Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

I kicked a target out of the window and he fell on top of a steel spike from a construction site.

“I like knives better than guns,” you lied and Bucky scoffed.

“You’re a sniper.”

“So were you, but look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a favorite knife.”

“I can’t look you in the eye, your mask has goggles,” Bucky retorted, making you smile.

“My turn,” you said, “Is your girlfriend pretty?”

“The prettiest,” Bucky said without even hesitation and you had to hold back your aww.

“Does that mean I don’t have a shot?”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Maybe I’m prettier,” you taunted and he shook his head.

“Impossible.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face under the mask, “Loyal type, aren’t you?”

“Not a cheater at least.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well that’s a shame,” you said, “Lucky girl.”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

“Maybe I should—“ you started but stopped talking when you saw a shadow by the hall.

“I call dibs,” you said before Bucky could even object, then grabbed and pulled the figure around the corner. He almost punched you but you dodged it, sending him back with a kick on the chest.

“No killing,” Bucky called out calmly and you groaned, dodging another punch as you did a backflip, then grabbed your opponent by the hair and slammed his head in the wall, making him pass out.

“Don’t be so vanilla, Barnes.” You commented as you made your way back to him, and tilted your head when you saw the way he was looking at you, almost—

Impressed?

No it wasn’t it, it was something else.

“Huh?” he asked, then tried to pull himself together, “Wh— I’m not even going to ask.”

“I’m just saying, there’s nothing wrong with liking it a little rough,” you grinned, “On the missions, that is.”

He scoffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“You can kill someone and flirt with someone else within minutes?”

“What can I say, I’m the whole package,” you stated, “I mean, not that it works on you, Mr I’m-in-a-relationship. So are you in love then?”

“Forgive me if I don’t want to share any details of my relationship with a homicidal maniac who apparently has a thing for bad pick-up lines.”

“How rude,” you pouted, “I think they’re really good pick-up lines.”

You could see the way he was trying to suppress a smile and you flipped the knife in your hand again, his eyes automatically following your movements.

“You won’t take off that mask, will you?” he asked after a beat and you shook your head.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t like the consequences if you saw my face.”

“Will you tell me who you work for?”

“Nope,” you said, “I don’t want to end up dead. My superiors have a strange idea of discipline.”

“Why are you helping us?” he asked again but before you could come up with an excuse, the door opened.

“It’s done, let’s go.” Sam said and you pushed yourself off the wall.

“We should do this again sometime,” you said and nodded at Sam “Captain.”

Sam smiled slightly. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem,” you said and turned to look at Bucky.

“Until next time, soldier,” you said and walked away from them, smirking to yourself.

                                               ***

So maybe that was a heat of the moment decision, and maybe Chloe was going to kill you if she ever found out about what had happened but good news was that your cover wasn’t blown.

And Bucky was fine.

You turned the vacuum cleaner off, wiping at your brow and put your hands on your hips, looking around the apartment.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You let out a squeal and turned around to see Keith standing by the doorframe.

“Keith, what the fuck?!”

“What are you doing?”

“How did you get in?”

“I’m a spy. I heard vacuum cleaner and I thought someone broke into your apartment, so I had to check.”

“You thought someone broke into my apartment to clean it?”

“Someone’s gotta,” he commented, making you glare at him before you unplugged the vacuum cleaner. “I’ve literally never seen you clean, what is happening?”

You flung yourself on the couch so that he could sit beside you. “No wonder I don’t do this shit, it’s boring.”

“But why are you doing it?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll invite Bucky over.”

“So what?”

“I can’t have the apartment look like this,” you motioned around, “The guy grew up in the…. Everyone’s apartment must be spotless era.”

“He’s been here before though—“ Keith started but then covered his mouth, “Oh shit, now I get it. You’re gonna jump on his bones.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Not even a word, Keith.”

“I have lots of words,” he said, “Number one, you do realize guys don’t care about the apartment, right? I have never once gone to a girl’s apartment and walked out because she hadn’t vacuumed the place.”

“Jesus.”

“Also, if you’re trying to go all wife material—“

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not.”

“I’d like to remind you that it’s a fake relationship,” he grinned, “Are you going to dress up like a Stepford Wife too?”

“I hate the day I decided to become your friend.”

“You love me,” he shot back and you slipped a little on the couch, “But hey, do you actually want to?”

“Want to do what?”

“To sleep with him?” he asked, “Or is it just the mission?”

You tried to keep your expression stable, excitement filling you at the thought of sleeping with Bucky.

Tonight.

Oh God, you felt like a lovesick girl instead of a serious spy.

“It’ll help the mission,” you lied through your teeth, “That’s all I’m focused on right now.”

“Aren’t you a little curious about how the most ruthless assassin of the century is in bed though?”

You let a grin pull at your lips, “Maybe?”

“Ha! I knew it!” he said triumphantly, “So how detailed will your report be, exactly? Asking for a friend.”

You threw a pillow at him, “You’re terrible.”

“Mm hm,” he checked his watch, “Ugh, I gotta go to base. But if I don’t see you before tonight, just…”

“I don’t want any gross advice, Keith.”

“Remember,” he said, “You have a cover to maintain.”

You pulled your brows together, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means your cover probably likes missionary and soul gazing and stuff in bed. Complete opposite of you, so don’t be like yourself.”

“How do you even-?”

“I have it on good authority that you like knife play, Y/N,” he said, making your jaw drop, “And your cover is a sweet small town girl.”

“Did you talk to Julian?!” you exclaimed and he made a face.

“No,” he said, “You have a knife collection, you idiot. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Bullshit, who told you—“

“Ryan,” he said, “The agent you slept with and dumped, before Julian.”

“He was boring.”

“It’s beyond me why you thought it was a good idea to sleep with him,” he shook his head, “Anyways, I’m out.”

“Why do you have to go to the base, exactly?”

“I have to brief the General,” he said as he walked to the door, “I was supposed to do that yesterday but he was busy with Julian. I think those two are planning something.”

You frowned, deep in thought.

“Tell Chloe I said hi!” you called out and he saluted you, then left your apartment. You pursed your lips and stood up, looking around.

“I should probably dust the place,” you mumbled to yourself, “Where the fuck do I get one of those feather dusters?”

                                                ***

Unfortunately, Tara needed you to cover her shift that day so you had to change plans. Normally you were supposed to meet Bucky for your date, but when Tara told you there was an emergency, you couldn’t say no to her.

Keeping yourself busy at work, even if it was just a cover, helped you to get your mind off the nervousness you were feeling about tonight.

You had never been this nervous before, which came as a shock for you. Bucky was just a target, and you knew better than anyone how to manipulate targets but—

You really, really wanted this. Regardless of it being a part of the mission or not.

So you had just finished with the inventory and closed the cash register when the wind bell chimed by the door and you turned your head, a big smile lighting up your face.

“Hi!” you rushed to throw yourself into Bucky’s arms and he caught you, lifting you a little to kiss you on the lips.

“Hi darling.”

“I’m almost done.”

“No worries, I can wait,” he said and you went behind the counter to hurriedly place the jars on the shelves so that when Tara came back tomorrow morning they would be all ready.

“Sorry about falling asleep last night,” you said, an image of you killing that HYDRA agent in front of Bucky flashing in your mind, “Did you stay up late?”

“Just a little,” he said and you bit down on a smile, he really wasn’t a good liar.

“Oh? What did you do after I went to sleep?”

He waved a hand in the air, as if looking for words, “Um—I—I was with Sam.”

“Sounds fun.”

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

“Actually I went on a mission,” he said after a beat and you turned to him, raising your brows.

“A dangerous one?”

“Not really,” he said, “But I wanted you to know, because…”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t really know about the relationship rules so I figured honesty is the best way to go,” he said, making your heart skip a beat, “I think I accidentally flirted with someone last night.”

The words “No you didn’t.” were at the tip of your tongue but you managed to control yourself and tilted your head.

“…Oh,” you ended up saying, “With who?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Remember how I told you there was this spy I kept running into?”

You really needed to control your expression.

“Yeah?”

“I mean she flirted with me, I don’t actually think I flirted back but I wanted you to know just in case.”

You smiled slightly, “Bucky, it happens.”

He let out a relieved breath, “Okay,” he said, “Okay, good.”

“I mean as long as you don’t have a crush on her or anything.”

His hesitation lasted only for a second, maybe even less than that but it was there. Your heart skipped a beat and you frowned before he spoke.

“Of course not,” he said quickly, “Not at all, I don’t even know her.”

Was that possible? Could he be attracted to your real self as well as your cover?

Or maybe even more than your cover?

“Alright then,” you said with a smile, “I just don’t like competition.”

“There’s no competition, I promise,” he assured you and you shifted your weight, then placed the last jar on the shelf and turned to him.

“So then,” you said as you both left the shop and he threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Did you know she would be there?”

“I had no idea,” he said while you approached the motorcycle, “She ended up helping us but I don’t know what she’s playing at.”

“I think I have an idea what she’s playing at, if she flirted with you.”

Bucky chuckled and pressed a kiss on top of your head, then tilted your chin up.

“Darling….”

“What? I’m pretty sure flirting existed back in the 40s, and you know what it means.”

“What happened to it happens again?” he asked you with a grin and you shot him a look, then grabbed the helmet from him.

The road to your place was pretty short, especially with the way Bucky was riding his motorcycle. Soon enough, he pulled over in front of the building and you tried to ignore how excited you were, it—

It was finally happening.

Who were you kidding? This had nothing to do with the mission, you really, really wanted him. Your heart felt like it would break your ribcage and you took a deep breath, then got off the motorcycle and placed the helmet in its place.

“So,” you said as he got off the motorcycle as well, then pulled you closer, “Any plans for tonight?”

“Nope.”

“Any accidental meetings with hot spies?”

“Mmm, I don’t know any,” he taunted you, making you smile.

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Oh totally. Besides, I’m happily going steady with the prettiest dame in the world, remember?”

You thought you would melt right then and there, and stepped closer to him before standing up on your tiptoes.

“Right answer,” you muttered after kissing him on the lips, and tugged him by the hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Upstairs,” you said, leading him into the building and he followed you as if he was hypnotized. You grinned when you got to your door, adrenaline rushing through you and you opened the door, then pulled him inside by the shirt, locking lips with him. He easily lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he kicked the door shut and you pulled back to giggle.

“Bedroom,” you pointed at the room at the end of the hall and he pulled you into a kiss, walking there, still carrying you. You let out a squeak when he dropped you to the bed but then sat up when the thought hit you.

“Oh God damn it—“ you pushed him slightly to get off the bed and he looked up at you as you stumbled to the drawer.

“Is everything okay?”

“More than okay,” you grabbed the lingerie set from the drawer, then turned to him, “Just— close your eyes and don’t go anywhere, alright?”

“…Okay but are you sure—“

“I’ll be back in a second,” you said, running to the bathroom with the lingerie set clutched in your arms and you let out a breath, looking yourself in the mirror.

Even your eyes were shiny with excitement.

You shook your head at yourself and quickly shed your clothes to get into the lingerie set. You tilted your head, checking the garter belts and the corset, then pressed a hand over your chest to calm yourself down and walked out of the bathroom.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked with a smile as you got to the bedroom and he nodded, holding a hand over his eyes.

“Cross my heart.”

You let out a small laugh and pulled at your hand so that he could open his eyes. As soon as he did, he blinked up at you, his jaw slightly agape.

For a second, there was absolute silence in the room.

“Is this a good silence or a bad silence?” you asked, for the first time in your life you were insecure about how you looked half naked in front of a partner, “Because I’m—“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you squeal.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed out and you pulled him into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

                                                   ***

You had no idea why you woke up. In fact, considering how peaceful you felt, it was a wonder how you woke up in the middle of the night.

You could almost feel the warmth surrounding you as you leaned in to press a small kiss on his bare chest, then grabbed his shirt in the dark and put it on to walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Surprisingly he didn’t wake up, instead he mumbled something under his breath, his dog tags shining under dim light coming from outside.

You felt like you could lie there and just lose yourself in the bliss, and the mission— no, everything else could wait.

You pushed your hair behind your ear after putting your phone on the counter, then you went to the sink to fill yourself a glass of water, and finished it in three big gulps, a smile which was impossible to stop pulling at your lips.

No one, target or a boyfriend, had ever made you feel this way.

Maybe you could just tell him. After tonight, after absolute happiness, you could just tell him and maybe he would understand, maybe you two could have a future, maybe—

Your phone vibrated on the counter, interrupting your thoughts and you frowned slightly, then touched the screen to open the text.

From: Julian

We may have found something. Good thing you didn’t get too attached.

The smile was wiped off of your lips in a second and your stomach dropped as you stared at the text message.

“Fuck.”

Chapter 19

[honeypiehotchner]

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (Damon Salvatore x fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hi my lovelies! I know this is not my usual content whatsoever, but I’ve been watching TVD with my best friend (@treat-winchesterswith-kindness​) and she was begging for a Damon smut, so this is the result. And I have to say...I enjoyed the hell out of writing this one xx.

Beta’d by @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ and @a-radical-notion <3

Warnings: (Birthday) SMUT! (Slight) virginity kink, Daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), biting (of course), size kink

Damon’s fingers touch gently underneath your chin, tilting your head, forcing your eyes to meet his. Not for compliance, he’d never do that to you. But for attention, for focus, for sincerity. He wants you to know his true intentions, the kind that only you can see when you’re looking into his eyes.

The usual mischief isn’t there. Instead, swirling in his eyes, are the softest emotions you’ve ever seen. The most genuine. The warmest.

Slowly, you nod. Your silent, willing compliance. Your silent, please.

As he leans forward to connect your lips--

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Your dream is ripped right out from under you by the smirking vampire standing in your bedroom. “Damon, what the hell?” You sit up in bed, rubbing your forehead. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Yikes, what’s with the attitude? My feelings are fragile, you know.” He grabs a pillow off your floor and hugs it to his chest as he quite literally falls onto the reading chair you have by your window.

Your only response is a glare.

“Come on, do you not know what day it is?”

“No,” you mutter, dropping your hands onto the bed in defeat. “What day is it?”

His expression is surprise, sadness, and unamused all at once. “Your birthday.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. You guess that is today. You’ve been so busy lately. You knew it was coming up, but you weren’t aware it was coming up this quickly. And now it’s here, and you have no plans.

Or at least you thought you didn’t have plans.

“Up, up, up,” Damon orders, waving his hands at you as he stands. “We’re celebrating, you’re not allowed to say no. Up.”

One thing you’ve learned about being friends with Damon Salvatore is that once he’s set in his ways, he isn’t budging. So, despite feeling like lead has been injected into your bones, you let him drag you out of bed -- literally. He reaches both hands out and you accept, wrapping your fingers around his and allowing him to tug you to your feet.

You and Damon have always been close. More than close, actually. You’ve never kissed or anything, at least not on the lips. He kissed your forehead once when you were sobbing over something. You kissed his cheek once in public when a guy wouldn’t stop hitting on you. And the two of you have held hands before, but more as an “I don’t want to lose you” measure in large crowds. You love concerts, and Damon does too (especially rock) but he hates the crowds because he hates losing sight of you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if everyone just assumed you and Damon are dating. You know the two of you aren’t -- because he’s definitely had sex with other women while you’ve been friends with him -- but you also know his behavior might lead others to believe otherwise. You also know that’s kind of his whole intention.

He’s protective. It’s what he does best. When you’re next to him, no one who isn’t your friend will look at you. And when you’re not with him, you’ve noticed the number of people who approach you with ill intentions has considerably decreased.

Once you’re known indirectly (or directly, you guess) as Damon Salvatore’s girl, no one comes near you. Exactly how Damon likes.

You don’t mind it. You hate being bothered. You’re surprised you let Damon bother you for as long as you did before you caved. You can’t lie, you liked it. You liked him. You still do.

But Damon isn’t the settling down type. He’s not the type to be monogamous, at least not from your experience. You do wonder at times what his goal was whenever he’d tell you about his sexual encounters. It wasn’t like he was bragging, but you couldn’t help but feel like he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

So, obviously, you didn’t give him one.

Damon doesn’t always get what he wants. He just thinks he does. And you like to make him believe that.

“Are you ready yet? I’m starving,” Damon calls from the hallway.

You roll your eyes. “No. And you can’t be starving, you’re dead.”

“I know,” he smirks, sauntering into your room. “Look at you.”

“Look at me?” You scoff. “I wore this outfit last week.”

“Yeah, but you look...hotter, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your birthday.”

You roll your eyes again, a habit you do most often when you’re with Damon. “Whatever. Where are you taking me?”

“Oh, just, all your favorite places.”

“You’re full of shit, Damon.”

+++

After a full day of doing all of your favorite things, most of which Damon hates, by the way. You have no idea why he’s been entertaining you all day, but you’re assuming it’s only because today is your birthday. He’ll go back to his usual self tomorrow and hang out with you only when it doesn’t involve things he hates doing.

“Which one of your comfort movies are we watching to end the day?”

You eye Damon skeptically from the kitchen. He’s currently on the couch, flicking through Netflix lazily.

You don’t want to question any of this until tomorrow, so you tell him which movie to queue up, and you hear him muffle a groan.

You return to the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn, plopping it in the middle of you and Damon. He presses play on the movie, and you eat your popcorn with a smile.

Of course, you should’ve known it was too good to be true for Damon to keep his mouth shut all day because about halfway through the movie, he drops the bomb you had been waiting on.

“So...you’ve really never had sex?”

You roll your eyes, but don’t respond.

Earlier today when the two of you were walking around, Damon kept pointing out cute guys. And they were cute, you’ll give him that, but you had no idea what his deal was. After five or six guys are pointed out, Damon asks you, “Come on, you’ve never had birthday sex? A one-night stand on your special day?”

You had laughed and shoved his arm, and confessed, “I’ve never had any sex, period. So no thank you. Can we please go?”

You knew it was way too good to be true when Damon dropped the subject immediately and moved on, letting you drag him away to your other favorite spot.

Of course, you should’ve known he was only waiting for the right time. You did know. Which is why you haven’t answered him right now.

But he keeps going.

“What about held hands? Kissed anyone on the lips?”

“First of all, you’ve held my hand, and second of all, of course I’ve kissed someone on the lips, I’m not a nun!” You lie.

He looks skeptical. “When was it?”

“I was…” He gives you the look harder, not compelling you, but might as well have been. “Fine. I’ve never had sex, and I’ve never had my first kiss. Are you happy now?”

“Of course I’m not happy!” He gives you another look, this one like you’ve gone batshit crazy. “You’re missing out on one of life’s greatest experiences!”

“And this is exactly why I never told you,” you toss a popcorn kernel at him, watching it bounce off his forehead. He looks up at it, but he doesn’t blink. “Not everyone thinks sex is all there is to life, Damon.”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant--”

“That’s exactly what you meant.”

“I just mean if...you’re waiting…”

“Please, stop. Talking.”

“You don’t need to wait.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I’m right here.”

You stare at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs nonchalantly like he’s not the biggest manwhore around. “I’m here.”

“You’re joking. Quit fucking with me.”

“I’m not fucking with you-- Well, at least not yet--”

“Oh my God, shut up!” You laugh, swatting at his arm, hating the way you’ve gone hot all over.

Damon Salvatore is attractive. Scratch that-- He’s more than attractive. He’s the kind of attractive everyone says they want in a guy, but obviously, it’s too much to ask for, so they settle for a little less. You can’t ask everyone to look like a God, but Damon does -- though you’ll never let him hear those words leave your lips. Never.

The prospect of having sex with Damon has crossed your mind more than once. Probably a thousand times, if you’re honest, but you always knew it would never happen. He’s Damon Salvatore. First of all, he doesn’t do anything besides casual sex, and second of all, you’re pretty sure his sex only includes experienced partners. You don’t exactly fit either of those criteria.

You never even thought he looked at you that way. You figured if he had, he would’ve made more jokes or insinuated things. But he never has with you.

“I’m being serious, you know.”

At this point, fifteen more minutes of the movie have gone by. But you haven’t been paying attention.

“Can I ask why?” You say, keeping your eyes focused on the TV screen.

“Why what?”

“Why now? Why are you suddenly interested? Because if it’s just to get your dick wet, I will kick you out.”

“What do you mean suddenly interested?” He counters.

“What do you mean?” You fire back, finally looking at him. “The whole time we’ve been friends, you’ve had more one-night stands than I can count. You never flirt with me. And just today you were trying to find someone for me to have birthday sex with. Are you serious?”

“Okay, yes, I have had a lot of one-night stands, and yes, I was being...obnoxious today, but I have flirted with you.”

“Since when?”

“Since every day I’ve known you!” He cries. “Did you not notice?”

You slump back into the couch cushions. “Well, I guess not.”

More minutes pass. The movie plays and you try to pay attention, silently wishing the couch would swallow you whole right now. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is.

“I’m not saying you have to have sex tonight, but whenever you’re ready...I’m here.”

“Of course you’ll always be there for that.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he says, and you would’ve brushed him off again if he wasn’t looking into your eyes so deeply, and reaching for your hand. Not in a way that insinuates anything, but for comfort.

Silently, you turn your hand over and let him hold it. “What if...What if I’m not ready for sex yet, but…”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, averting your eyes back to the movie. “What if I want you to kiss me?”

“I can do that.”

You nod, but you don’t move. Your hand stays gently held in his, your eyes glued to the movie. You suggested it yourself, yet you’re nervous.

Distantly, you hear the bowl of popcorn moving to the coffee table. You feel the cushion beside you dip slightly as Damon scoots over. And then…

“You’re going to have to look at me if you want me to kiss you.”

You feel his fingers gently lifting your chin, turning your gaze toward him.

“Are you sure?”

You roll your eyes, not as harsh this time because you’re too busy buzzing with the fact that his fingers are still on your chin. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay, okay,” he teases, his thumb stroking your jaw.

He moves slow, not wanting to rush you, but he moves so slow that you wish he’d use his speed. Before you can make a comment about it, though, his lips are finally on yours.

Kissing isn’t what you expected. But since it’s with Damon, it’s amazing.

He still moves as slow as possible, his hand moving from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face, pulling you closer. You have no idea what to do with your hands, so you leave them in your lap, curled into fists.

Damon pulls back, pecking your lips once, then twice, before finally pulling away.

“How’s that for a first kiss?”

You don’t bother responding. Instead, you grip his shirt in both hands and pull him back to you, kissing him harder. A growl releases itself from the back of Damon’s throat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip in retaliation.

You open up for him instantly, fists releasing his shirt when his tongue strokes into your mouth gently. His hands find your waist and squeeze, massaging your skin, tugging you closer until there’s practically not even a centimeter of space between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, a small whine leaving your lips when he pulls back.

“Damon…” You whisper, your vision hazy, but in the best way.

“Look at me,” he says softly, his lips ghosting over yours.

You blink slowly, looking back into his eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you want more?”

You nod pathetically, still annoyed with him for stopping.

“Words, little one,” he taps your nose with his index finger. “What do you want?”

“More,” you say almost instantly. “I need more, Damon.”

“More it is,” he smirks, giving you what you need.

You inhale deeply when he kisses you, and when you exhale, your breath fills Damon’s lungs. Your fingers thread through his hair at the base of his skull, your arms keeping you steady around his neck. His lips devour you in every form of the word, claiming you, coaxing you to open up to him. His hands tug on your hips, pulling you into his lap, straddling his legs.

Your comfort movie plays on the TV in the background, the volume turned down, but still there. Somehow, it makes more of your nerves melt away. Damon’s touch makes the rest of them disappear.

Damon pushes your hair back from your face as he holds you captive with his kiss. Another nip to your skin and he pulls back.

“I want more,” you blurt, “but I’m not a one night stand.”

“You are most definitely not a one night stand,” he replies softly, pecking your lips. “If you want more, I’ll give you more.”

“Give me more,” you all but demand, rocking your hips. “Now.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement. “Just because it’s your first time doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want.”

You fully stop your movement out of surprise and annoyance. “Why not?”

“Because…” He thumbs the pout from your lips. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Damon,” you groan. “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I haven’t fingered myself.”

He chuckles lowly, grabbing one of your hands and lifting it up into view. “I am a lot bigger than your fingers, princess.”

You shudder at the nickname and fail to hide it.

His usual mischievous smirk stretches across his lips. “You like that?”

You nod. No use in trying to hide it.

“Princess,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” you say proudly, already tired of the teasing.

He smooths his hands down your arms. “That’s not asking nicely.”

“Please, will you please just fuck me already?”

“Nice of you to say please,” Damon replies, pressing a kiss to your lips. “But I need to get you ready first. Don’t pout, kitten. Come on.”

He shifts his weight to lift you up, laying you back on the couch. Slowly, your pants are dragged down your legs. You wait for him to take your panties, too, but he doesn’t.

You lift your head, but Damon stops you before the comment leaves your mouth. “Patience, princess.”

You throw your head back into the pillow with a groan, one that quickly morphs into a moan when he mouths your clit over your panties. His tongue darts out to tease your hole through the fabric, smirking into your pussy as you squirm. He thumbs your clit before massaging your lips.

“There we go,” he murmurs. “I can feel you getting wet, and that’s what we need, Princess, I don’t want to hurt you...not unless you ask.”

A flash of a wet dream you had a few nights ago, where Damon’s mouth was in your neck, his teeth breaking skin only barely, but enough to taste.

“Did you just get wetter? Oh, Princess…”

The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears when Damon’s teeth tear your panties away. The sudden cool air on your wet pussy causes your hips to buck, and Damon’s hands promptly push them back down.

He crawls up your body, briefly paying attention to your collarbones and neck, daring to nip there, but not breaking the skin, and leaving as quick as he came.

His entire body covers yours as he leans down, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, smirking when he finds your lips already parting for him. And when your hands find the buttons on his shirt, he chuckles, but keeps kissing you, fiercer now as you unbutton every last one, leaving his shirt hanging wide open.

“You feeling good?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Just checking, baby,” he coos, kissing both of your cheeks, then your nose.

He slides back down your body, settling over your hips. Now, without the barrier of your panties, you can feel his breath on your pussy. Before you have time to process that feeling, though, Damon is diving in headfirst -- literally.

Damon is not a stranger to going down on a woman, and it’s actually his favorite thing in the world to do.

He doesn’t even try holding you down. One arm is stretched across your hips, while his other hand is busy massaging your lips, coating his fingers in your wetness. You expect him to thrust his fingers into you then, but a loud moan has you looking down to see Damon’s fingers in his mouth, tasting you.

He opens his eyes and catches yours, smirking around his fingers as he pulls them out of his mouth. “You taste good.”

You scrunch up your nose, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll make you taste one day, kitten, you might like it.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t start pouting now,” he says, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his fingers trail down to your entrance. “Just one for now, Princess,” he whispers, spreading your lips and pressing in.

One isn’t much, so all that you feel is pleasure and heat in your core.

“More,” you whine, lying back down, breathless. “Please.”

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, kissing your hip bone. “Asking so nicely. I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”

Another finger enters you and it is a bit of a stretch, but still not much. He was right, his fingers are bigger than yours -- and you’re sure his cock is bigger, too -- but it’s still not enough.

“More,” you cry, the word breaking into a choked moan when he scissors his fingers, opening you up.

“There it is,” he smiles, leaning down to flick your clit with his tongue before sucking gently on the bundle of nerves. He continues scissoring his fingers until he hears your moans growing quieter, and that’s when he adds a third finger.

Now you feel the stretch, but it isn’t painful. Your moan is louder than you expect, your back arching off the couch, and Damon swears for a second he might’ve stumbled upon an angel.

A small whimper leaves your lips when he curls his fingers, pressing into your g-spot ever so slightly. Not hard enough for immense pleasure because he doesn’t want to wear you out immediately, and he knows you aren’t used to that level of pleasure -- not yet at least.

He pauses his assault on your hip bone, never biting hard enough to leave a mark, to return to your clit. He’s not sure if you know it, but you’re close. He can feel your walls fluttering and squeezing his fingers, the tell-tale signs.

Once you feel his mouth back on your clit, sucking and nibbling gently, you’re blinded by the pleasure that crashes into you. It’s as if the skies opened up and struck you with lightning straight from the sun.

When Damon moans into your pussy, the vibrations send waves of pleasure through your every fiber, and you have no choice but to cum all over his fingers.

Something you do when you’re pleasuring yourself is you stop almost immediately, but Damon continues, milking every last bit of your orgasm until you’ve calmed down. He leans his head on your hip while he continues massaging your walls until he can pull his fingers out without hurting you or startling you.

The emptiness you feel when his fingers leave you is a little startling, but only so much so that you need something else inside of you. Which is why while he’s busy sucking on his fingers again, making a complete mess, you’re sitting up and tossing your shirt over your head.

“Woah,” Damon says around his fingers, his eyes widening when your bra comes off, too. “Hello.”

You almost glare at him. “I need you inside of me.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Pardon me?”

“Please,” you groan. “Please, I need more, I…”

“Shhh,” he shushes you, his fingers massaging soft circles into your thigh. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

He nods. “Lay back, Princess. I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You obey, mostly out of exhaustion than compliance, and Damon knows that. You’ve always been a bit of a brat, but he’s seeing even more of it tonight.

He makes a show of shrugging off his shirt, watching you watching him, your arm bent underneath your head to prop you up. One leg is up and the other is down, and you look like Heaven.

Damon undoes his belt and tosses it away, taking note of the way your eyes follow it all the way to the floor. You don’t even look back to him until his pants are hitting the floor, and him stepping out of them catches your attention again. Black boxer briefs are all that is left, and they’re barely containing him.

He loves how intently you’re watching him. The genuine curiosity sparks in his eyes when he pulls his underwear down, kicking them aside. You blink slowly, marveling at the sight of him. He’s...pretty.

“Like what you’re seeing, baby?”

You nod slowly. “Mhm. Taste?”

“Next time,” he promises, kneeling on the couch, pushing your legs apart. “Tonight is all about you, Princess.” He presses a kiss to your lips to seal the deal, and you accept it, reminded of how empty you feel now that your legs are spread again.

You go quiet when you feel his cock nudging your entrance. He stretched you, but he feels so big.

“Is it...Is it gonna fit?” You ask, your arms wrapping around his neck again for support.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, and chin. “You tell me when to stop, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you again, sweeter and softer this time, but it’s only a distraction for when he initially enters you. He could tell you needed the distraction, and he was correct.

When you begin to feel him, your nails scratch his skin and he stops, staying there, waiting for your word.

He goes slow as promised every time you ask for more, and stops whenever you say so, or when your whimper is louder than expected.

Soon, though, he’s fully seated inside of you, and you feel sufficiently full. At peace. And ready for him to fucking move.

“Move, please, Damon, I need you to--”

He pulls out slightly and snaps his hips, knocking the breath out of you. He watches your face, but there are no traces of pain, only pleasure.

A rhythm slowly forms, one that you enjoy, until you need more and when you ask for more this time, Damon doesn’t hold back.

So much so that it forces a new name from your lips.

You didn’t mean to say it, but when he stops moving out of surprise, you can’t help but whine it once more. “Daddy, please.”

“God,” Damon groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. The rhythm this time is slow and dizzying. “Say it again.”

“Daddy,” you whimper instantly, bucking your hips, pulling him in deeper.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your vein. “You have no idea how hard it is not to just…” He pauses, letting his teeth graze over the sensitive skin there. “And when you call me that…”

“Daddy…” You cry out, feeling him nudging against your cervix.

“My sweet little girl,” he breathes. “Letting me take her virginity. That’s my Princess, my baby…” His teeth graze your skin again, teasing you, and then…

“Please,” you mumble, closing your eyes. “Do it.”

He freezes, and you feel it, but you’re tired of him freezing, so you wrap your hand around the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your neck.

“Do it,” you repeat, even more breathless. “Please.”

Damon can’t resist, not when you feel this good wrapped around him, when you’re begging, when you’re pushing him closer, yearning for it.

He speeds up his rhythm, chasing his high. He doesn’t trust himself to cum with his teeth in your neck, but he can cum right before, and sink them in while you’re cumming. The pain won’t be as intense while you’re mid-orgasm.

Almost as soon as you feel Damon’s seed spilling inside of you, your back is arching, your own waves of pleasure shooting through your body, your second orgasm of the night capturing you. And when you least expect it, because you assumed he had decided against you, Damon’s teeth sink into your neck.

It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, but it’s one you’ll be asking for more often.

Your body relaxes, Damon’s now half-hard cock sitting snugly inside of you while he drinks from you, and when he finally is done, you’re floating blissfully.

You catch only a glimpse of his face before it returns to normal, and he kisses you gently to get your attention.

“How was your first time?”

“Amazing,” you murmur, scratching gently at the base of his skull. “Really...amazing.”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Stay.”

“Okay, well I need to pull out of you, but then we can cuddle.”

“Fine,” you huff, dropping your arms from his neck.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you empty once more, despite the pleasure still thrumming through your body. “You can warm my cock another time, okay Princess?”

“Hmph.”

He stands and shakes his head. “Alright, it’s nap time for you.”

You look up hopefully. “Bed?”

“Yeah, come on.” He slides his arms underneath your legs and back, lifting you up bridal style.

You’re asleep in his arms before he even makes it to your room.

[contemplativepancakes]

Geralt is possibly the least interesting vampire in the world. Jaskier is strangely okay with that. 4k, G. read on AO3 here!

for @theamazingbard (:

Geralt holds up two ties in front of the mirror, comparing the fabrics against his suit. By now, he’s used to the headless suit that reflects back at him in the mirror. Geralt’s never been one to overly question things, so he couldn’t tell you why vampires don’t show up in mirrors, but really, that’s fine. A relief, even.

He’s not sure he wants to know what he looks like. He knew once, before he was turned. He wasn’t exactly a looker then, and he highly doubts he is now.

Geralt chooses the black tie with the tiny dots instead of the black tie with the stripes, and clips it on to his suit. What? He can’t be expected to tie a tie every single day. He smooths it down over his chest. Satisfied, he sits down on the bed to tie his dress shoes. Reliable double knots.

He walks down the hall to crouch in front of the refrigerator, pulling out one of the bags of blood he keeps there. He pauses to look at the label. It’s his favorite, AB. He tucks it into his lunchbox, then pauses to rip one open and dump it into his travel mug. He pours some protein powder in it to make the blood coagulate. He can definitely see the appeal of this boba tea the humans have been drinking recently.

As he heads out the door, he darkens a little as he looks at his neighbors’ decorations. He hates Halloween. A time for people to get everything wrong about monsters. They live with them, the least they could do is be a little considerate and do their research.

No, they can’t repel Geralt with garlic. He scowls at the thought.

Geralt’s distracted from his thoughts as a young man runs by him out of seemingly nowhere and falls on the sidewalk just in front of him, his knee splitting open.

Geralt rubs a hand on his neck as the man looks up at him beseechingly.

“Uh. Do you need any help?”

“My, you’re ever so kind,” the man says, extending a hand that Geralt uses to pull him to his feet.

“Probably want to get that cleaned off,” Geralt says. “Make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Oh, dear! You’re right. Would it be possible for me to use your sink?” he asks, batting his eyelashes.

Geralt squints. “I...guess?”

“Oh, thank you!”

Geralt unlocks his door and leads the man into his bathroom, graciously pretending not to notice the man looking around the apartment in wide eyed fascination. He must not know that Geralt is a vampire, then, or he wouldn’t be so quick to ask Geralt for help. People around here avoid Geralt for the most part.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man says, as he bends his leg so his knee is right under the faucet. Geralt politely looks away when he notices how the motion makes the material of his pants stretch right across the seat of his ass.

“Geralt,” he replies, watching Jaskier closely for a reaction.

There’s none, so Geralt kneels down and looks under the sink for his hydrogen peroxide. When he finds it, he hands it to Jaskier wordlessly.

Jaskier flashes him a winning smile. “I guess it was my lucky day to run into you, hmm?”

Geralt doesn’t think anyone has ever said that about him before. “Anyone would do what they could to help you avoid infection,” he says dutifully.

Jaskier deflates a bit. “Well, there must be some way I can repay you. How about coffee?”

“Oh. I don’t really...drink coffee.” Geralt waits for Jaskier to get it. It’s not like monsters like him are uncommon, per se.

“How about dinner, then? A steakhouse.”

“Sure,” Geralt says, surprising himself. He blinks. His brothers are always telling him he needs to make more friends. And a steak does sound particularly good. He rarely lets himself indulge in things like that.

Jaskier brightens. “Hey, would you mind putting a band aid on this for me? I can never get it to stay.”

“I’m not sure that applying band aids is exactly rocket science,” Geralt says, but he does it anyway, his nose twitching at the scent of the fresh blood.

Geralt is centuries old, though, so it’s not like a little blood is the end of the world. Maybe when he was a fledgling, but those days are long past him.

He gives Jaskier’s knee a tiny pat. “Looks like those pants are done in for,” he says inanely.

Jaskier shrugs. “A worthy sacrifice.”

Geralt doesn’t respond to that, and Jaskier lets the silence linger. Geralt clears his throat. “I’m going to be late for work.”

Before he leaves, Jaskier insists Geralt give him his number so that he can arrange their dinner. “I’m very much looking forward to it,” Jaskier says with a grin.

Geralt gives him a hesitant smile, looking at the clock. He really does need to get a move on.

Jaskier seems to get the hint and lets Geralt usher him out the door.

In the end, Geralt’s not late, but he is grumpy that he only arrived five minutes early instead of his customary fifteen. It throws his entire day off, and the numbers seem to swim before him on his computer screen like never before.

Geralt scowls. He should have picked the tie with the stripes.

-

Jaskier contains his pout as he walks along the sidewalk, away from Geralt’s house. He practically offered himself up on a platter to be ravished, and Geralt was completely unaffected. There was blood right in front of his nose!

Jaskier doubts his information for a second, but Priscilla was the one who told him in hushed whispers that the word was that Geralt was a vampire. If Valdo had been the one to tell him, then he would have had a few more qualms, but Priscilla wouldn’t lie to him like that.

She knows how the idea of being partners with a monster makes him feel hot under the collar.

Jaskier resolves to be better. If a cut knee wasn’t enough, he’ll just have to step up his game for this dinner. And surely, if Geralt didn’t want to be seduced, he would have sent Jaskier on his merry way after bandaging his knee instead of bandaging it for him, for gods’ sake.

Maybe Geralt wants to be the one being chased after for once. Well, Jaskier is happy to oblige.

-

When Geralt gets home from work, there’s a text waiting for him. How about Friday night for our little get together?

It’s not like Geralt ever has any plans that might get in the way besides his weekly meeting, so it’s not like he has to check his calendar before he replies. Sure.

Great! I’ll pick you up at 8! :D

Geralt frowns. This doesn’t seem right. He hasn’t made a new friend in possibly fifty years, and now one literally falls into his path?

He hums to himself as he does his nightly routine, pushing on the gum above each fang to make it pop out so he can properly brush it. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and all that. Actual dentists that weren’t just going to try to pull out his teeth have only been around for less than the majority of his life, so it’s habit to take good care of them.

Geralt strips off his clothes until he’s left in just his t-shirt and boxers and climbs into bed. No, he doesn’t have a coffin or hang upside down like some sort of bat. Geralt’s not sure where all that nonsense got its roots in the first place.

There’s so many things that humans seem to have no qualms believing about monsters, though, and Geralt frowns as he punches his pillow into a better shape. He’s almost 250. His lumbar health is no joke.

-

His anxiety bleeds into his work, making Excel blink more error messages back at him than he’s ever seen before. Geralt’s boss pulls him aside to ask if he’s okay. Geralt sulks.

He is the consummate professional, and he’s not going to let this dinner get the better of him. Geralt contends anyone would be nervous if they hadn’t made a new friend in decades, too.

Now, he stands in front of his closet. He’s certainly not going to wear a suit, but he rarely wears anything else. It’s not like he goes much of any place besides work and his weekly meetings. Geralt sighs as he pulls a pair of jeans out of his wardrobe.

They’re a lot tighter than he remembers, but this is all he has, so it’ll have to do. He finds a long sleeved shirt that is luckily on the baggier side. He hopes that will make up for his too-close fitting jeans.

Geralt brushes his hair, but he can’t see it in the mirror, so there’s no point in doing anything else with it. He’s more likely to make himself look ridiculous than presentable with whatever he might attempt.

Geralt plants himself on the couch, reaching for his book to read until the clock rolls around to the time Jaskier promised to pick him up. His fingers play with the corners of the pages, bending them in a way that he’s sure would make a librarian displeased.

Geralt huffs when he realizes he’s not going to get any reading done and sets the book down on his side table. He takes a deep breath through his nose. He is ancient; he shouldn’t be getting social anxiety right now.

His phone pings with a text. Outside!

Geralt looks out the window, and indeed, there’s a car there. It’s a lime green slug bug, with rust eating its way up from the undercarriage. Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose. That looks like Jaskier’s car, all right.

-

Jaskier tries not to drool as Geralt walks down his steps. He’s wearing pants that are skin tight, which should frankly be illegal, and his shirt hangs off of him so that it shows his collar bones. Jaskier thought that vampires should be the ones who wanted to bite, but he would really love to get his mouth on one of those.

Geralt gets into the passenger seat with a half smile playing around his lips. “Like my ride?” Jaskier asks.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Jaskier claps his hand to his heart in mock offense. “I’m wounded.”

Geralt hums, shifting in his seat as he fastens his seatbelt. Jaskier drums his fingers on the steering wheel, flexing his right arm to draw attention to the bandage he has there. He went and donated blood this afternoon, and if Geralt doesn’t get his hint this time, he is going to pound his head against the nearest wall.

-

Geralt shifts his head to look out the window as Jaskier keeps his arms on shameless display. He knows times have changed, but it’s also always a little dizzying to see so much of everyone’s skin on display all the time, their pulse thrumming invitingly underneath it.

Geralt shakes his head to clear it of its reverie as Jaskier pulls his car into drive. It gives a concerning lurch. Before Geralt can open his mouth to comment, Jaskier is holding up a hand. “I can assure you, we are perfectly safe.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey!” Jaskier protests. “It is. I take care of it.”

“All I said was hmm,” Geralt says with a tiny grin. “That’s why it has so much rust, right?”

Jaskier sighs. “I was going to get around to repaint it, and then I just...other things came up.”

Geralt makes a face at him, laughing at Jaskier’s increased defenses. Some of his anxiety fades away as he realizes this isn’t so bad, after all. Maybe Jaskier needs a new friend just as badly as him.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Jaskier pulls Geralt’s chair out for him. Geralt gives him a polite nod. He can’t say he has a firm grasp on all the recent customs. Lambert’s always telling him he’s stuck in the past.

Geralt crosses his fingers and rests his chin on his hands as he watches Jaskier eat his salad, taking endearingly large bites. Jaskier hasn’t even mentioned anything about vampires yet. Geralt is starting to feel a tiny bit guilty. Would he still want to spend all this time with him if he knew Geralt wasn’t human?

As he’s thinking that, Jaskier takes a big gulp of his water and starts to sputter. Geralt’s across the table in an instant, his hand around Jaskier’s bicep and another hand on his back. “Are you okay?” Geralt murmurs, tense and ready to help if the need arises.

Jaskier coughs and waves him off. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

Geralt relaxes a bit, but as his hand lingers on Jaskier’s arm, he can’t help but feel how warm it is, such a contrast to his own constantly cool skin. When Jaskier turns his face to look up at him, Geralt quickly drops his arm and beats a hasty retreat back to his seat.

He could swear Jaskier looks disappointed. He must be delusional.

When the main course comes, Geralt cuts neatly into his pink steak, mouth watering as the juices come leaking out of it. He sucks the tip of his finger into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste of it.

He makes himself cut the steak into tiny pieces. He’ll have to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire eventually; he might as well make sure he doesn’t think he’s a barbaric onel. Geralt tries his best to keep his eyes on Jaskier’s face instead of his arms. He can’t help but notice that he has some very nice veins. They’re a striking blue, and a perfect compliment to his eyes.

Geralt bites his lip, flinching when one of his fangs pops out on its own, pressing into his lip.

“One of my uncles is a werewolf,” Jaskier says, apropos of nothing, looking at Geralt meaningfully.

A trickle of sweat runs down Geralt’s back. Does Jaskier think he’s a werewolf? Werewolves are generally regarded better than vampires; at least they’re only monsters one night a month.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, not hearing the rest of Jaskier’s sentence.

Jaskier laughs at his own joke, and Geralt blinks rapidly until he can focus again on what Jaskier’s saying.

When the waiter comes with the check, Jaskier insists on paying for it. Is this what friendship has evolved to since Geralt last had one? He doesn’t know enough about it to argue with Jaskier, so he lets him do what he wants.

-

Outside of Geralt’s house, Jaskier puts a hand on the console between them, making eye contact with Geralt before dropping his gaze down to his lips. Geralt gives him a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling. His white hair looks ethereal in the moonlight, and Jaskier is only a little infatuated.

Geralt’s exterior is stony, but he also had no problems giving Jaskier all sorts of secret smiles throughout the night. Jaskier’s not sure he’s met a better listener than Geralt, and he tends to drone on and on, so that’s somewhat important to him.

Jaskier closes his eyes and starts to lean in when Geralt opens the car door. Jaskier opens his eyes.

“I had a great time, thank you,” Geralt says, one hand on the top of the car.

Jaskier bites his lip, stopping himself from saying what he wants. “Me, too. Let’s do it again some time?”

Geralt nods eagerly, and Jaskier watches him walk away, his gaze fixed on Geralt’s devastating pants and not at all on the way his ass looks in them.

Jaskier rests his head on the steering wheel in despair. He doesn’t know how to be any more heavy handed than this. He went and donated blood! And Geralt let him pay for their meal! He’s not sure how he can get across the point any better that he’s a talking blood bag, and he’s open for business.

Jaskier heaves a gigantic sigh and resolves to go home and plot his next move.

Maybe Geralt’s just shy.

Well. Jaskier can work with that

-

Geralt’s weekend passes in its normal fashion. He goes for a run, drinks some blood out of his supply in the fridge, then crashes on the couch for a whole day while he thinks of anything other than work. Sometimes Eskel lets himself in using his key, but he doesn’t that weekend, and Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he tortures himself thinking of what Eskel might be doing.

Eskel’s never had problems making friends, unlike Geralt, so he’s sure he’s out having a good time with them.

Geralt used to be good at making friends, gods damn it, before all of them died of old age and he just didn’t see the point anymore. He’s come to suppose that there’s not all that much of a point in immortality if all he does is work, though.

The weekend’s over just as quickly as it began, and on Monday night, he can’t help the smile that creeps across his face when Jaskier texts him about some inane thing he noticed. Was he thinking of Geralt? That’s...nice.

Cautiously, Geralt lets himself hope that something is going to come out of this.

But first, he needs to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire. He wouldn’t be the first person to run away screaming, even though they are much more accepted now than they used to be.

Geralt shudders as he thinks of the industrial revolution. No regard for any monsters then. Humans invent light bulbs, and all of a sudden they think they’re too good for a healthy dash of respect.

Geralt looks back down at his phone, at a music video Jaskier sent him of someone playing a singing saw.

He lets himself focus on that a while.

-

Wednesday creeps around, and with it, Geralt’s weekly meeting.

He takes his spot in his customary chair, and looks around for Lambert, ignoring the look Eskel is trying to burn through the side of his face with.

“Why do I have to be here, again?” Geralt asks, when he gives up on Lambert to come save him.

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s an argument they’ve had more than once. “If you won’t become a sponsor, you have to at least show them that things get better.”

Geralt huffs a breath out through his nose as he watches the regulars file in. There’s one new person, and Geralt eyes her curiously. She looks a little terrified, and Geralt softens in sympathy.

The meeting starts, and they go around in the circle, the seat beside Geralt still empty in Lambert’s tardiness.

“Hi, I’m Geralt, and I’m a blood addict,” he drones when it’s his turn.

When they’ve moved on to their personal struggles for the week, Lambert finally appears, dropping into his chair.

He elbows Geralt, seemingly unaware of everyone staring at them.

“Hey, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

Geralt firmly fixes a scowl in place and ignores him. He’s not sure why he even wanted Lambert to show up in the first place.

Geralt leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he listens to everyone else, Eskel being disgustingly reassuring to them all, as per usual. Geralt stamps the jealousy down. It’s not Eskel’s fault he’s so good with people.

The meeting drags by, and when it’s finally over, Lambert doesn’t let Geralt just sneak away. He digs his elbow into his side again, holding Geralt by the shoulder. “You didn’t answer me earlier. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“I’m not,” Geralt says.

Lambert hums. “You don’t have your usual storm cloud above your head, so I’m going to count it.”

Geralt scowls at him and looks at Eskel for back up, but Eskel just raises his eyebrows at him.

“I hate you both,” Geralt grumbles.

“You love us,” Lambert says.

“Fine. I made a new friend,” he grates out.

Lambert and Eskel exchange an insufferable look.

“What?” Geralt demands.

“You, make a friend? Well, we’re just going to have to hear all about this to believe it.”

Geralt huffs, but he tells them about Jaskier.

“He took you to dinner? And paid? And you think he wants to be just friends?” Lambert asks.

Geralt flaps his hands around and hisses, “Look, I’ve barely been anywhere that isn’t here or work in the last three decades, how am I supposed to keep up with all this human nonsense? And besides, I haven’t even told him I’m a vampire yet. I’ll be lucky if he even wants to be my friend after that.”

Eskel bites his lip. “You know that’s a turn on for some humans, right?”

“What?”

“And you said he scraped his knee the first time he saw you? Geralt, I think he already knows, and he’s just trying to get in your pants.”

Geralt deflates. That makes a twisted sort of sense. “Oh.”

Lambert punches him in the arm. “Hey, lighten up. If anyone can charm him with their stunning personality, it’s you.”

“Fuck off.”

-

It’s difficult to fall asleep that night.

-

A week goes by without him answering any of Jaskier’s texts. He still painstakingly reads and savors each one, but he can’t bring himself to reply. If he was looking for some sort of...fling, he would have gone on one of those apps Eskel keeps telling him about.

As pathetic as it sounds, he could really use a friend. And if sex came later, well, Geralt wouldn’t complain, but he just desperately needs someone who’s going to stick around. He needs someone just for himself, someone outside of Lambert and Eskel who isn’t going to tease him about every little thing.

Geralt sighs. This was at least good practice. Maybe he can try again with someone else.

His heart sinks at the thought. He doesn’t really want someone else. Jaskier wormed his way into his chest in just a week, and Geralt knows he could yank him out with only a little pain if he tried, he doesn’t want to.

Geralt wants to have something nice, for once.

-

Jaskier bites his lip as he peers out the car window at Geralt’s house. He’s half scared there’s not going to be an answer when he knocks, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do then. He thought their date went swimmingly, so he’s not sure why Geralt suddenly stopped answering him unless something happened.

Jaskier has a vision of getting into the house only to find Geralt on the floor, the only way to revive him being letting Geralt drink straight from his neck, obviously leading to Geralt ravishing him against the nearest wall.

Jaskier shakes himself like a dog. Geralt’s given him no interest in anything like that at all. Maybe he needs to lower his expectations. The dude seems lonely, anyway, so maybe he just wants someone to talk to that’s not one of his coworkers.

Geralt told him he’s an actuary, and from the questions he asked of Geralt and Geralt didn’t answer, he’s not convinced that Geralt talks to his coworkers at all.

Jaskier blows out a puff of breath as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. He’s not sure what he hopes is going to happen when he opens the door.

He walks up the door and knocks.

He waits an agonizing moment before the door swings open, revealing Geralt. He looks even paler than Jaskier remembered him, wearing a pair of sweatpants with a hole in the crotch that he can see Geralt’s plaid boxers through and a t-shirt with a collar that’s outrageously stretched. Jaskier swallows hard.

“Have you considered not oiling the hinges? I think it would do you a world of good to develop a creaky door aesthetic.”

Geralt’s forehead wrinkles adorably. “What?”

“Just, you know. Being a vampire and all.”

Geralt slumps against the door frame. “How long have you known?”

Now it’s Jaskier’s turn to be confused. “Known what?”

“That I’m a vampire!”

“Oh.” Jaskier pauses. “I didn’t think it was a secret.”

Geralt’s hand pauses in its path of trailing the wood grain of the door. “Do you have a...kink?” he spits.

Jaskier raises his hands. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

Geralt fixes him with an unconvinced look.

“Look, that might have been part of the initial intrigue, but—”

Geralt raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“But, you’re really fucking hot and also possibly the most boring person I know, but...I’m into it. You know all these weird facts and—gods know I could use a little stability in my life.”

Geralt gives him a bashful smile, and Jaskier wonders if anyone has said anything nice to him at some point this century. “Yeah?”

Jaskier leans across the threshold and cups Geralt’s face with his hands, their mouths a breath apart. “Yeah.”

[angellissy]

Hey :) I’ve never requested anything before so I’m sorry if i do it wrong hahah

But could I request something where instead of ward faking his death it’s rafe who has to do it and none of the pouges know about your relationship until it’s you crying in the dock instead of Sarah. And when you and the piggies go on the “rescue” mission to get Sarah off of the boat you see rafe and eventually end up staying with him and leaving your friends

I’m sorry if this is really long xx thank you for taking the time to read my request

R E A C H I N G  F O R  T H E  S U R F A C E

SEASON TWO SPOILERS!

rafe Cameron x Reader

warnings: angst with a big a, canon rafe (maybe a bit softer), toxic relationship, rafe playing the victim card, death and talks of suicide.

a/n: I feel like it is of importance that I tell you all that I have done everything in my power not to romanticize the rafe cameron character and if I have then please kindly let me know because sometimes it can be hard. However I still need to say that I am writing through the eyes of the “reader” who very much still cares for this boy, which also means that the way the reader deals with things might not have been your way. If any more warnings should be included in the beginning, feel free to let me know. I hope you enjoy this fic which I am actually very proud of. A big thanks to @snkkat​ who is my proof reading buddy. Also thanks for sending in the request, I LOVED writing it! <3

They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes, but how about when you watch someone else die? For as you watched him die, the life and moments the two of you had shared flashed before your eyes like a string of reminders of a life and love lost. It felt as if there was no air for you to breathe, you weren’t even sure how long it had been since you managed to take a full breath. Your mind was running in circles, trying to grasp what had just occurred, replaying the scene over and over again until you were not even sure what reality you were in. With a hammering heart and a split soul, you were kneeling on the dock, just minutes after watching your first love take his own life. You could not even remember how you had gotten out here in the first place, you just wished that you would have stayed behind as all your friends rushed toward a disaster in waiting. Perhaps that would have spared you some of the heartbreak, spared you from hearing him scream that he loved you one last time, spared you from seeing his boat go up in flames. But no, you were sure that for as long as you lived, you would see that blazing inferno whenever you closed your eyes.

There were arms around you, an attempt to soothe your shaking body, it only made you feel more trapped in a memory you would never escape. Those arms lifted you up and suddenly you were walking, mixed in all the anger and sadness there was a surprise that your body was even able to function. It felt as if you were outside of your body watching everything occur, you watched as Kiara and JJ helped you sit down on a sofa and as they draped a blanket over your shoulders. You watched it unfold, but you couldn’t feel it and there was no way that you would be able to respond to their worried questions. Instead, you were stuck in a mind that replayed everything Rafe had ever said or done to you as if that somehow could manifest him back to life. That stuck-up boy with the golden hair had been your first boyfriend, complicated as the relationship may have been, it had been the first time you ever experienced something close to love. Just days ago you had stood before him, tears in your eyes and heart in your throat as you called the relationship off. For a very long time, he had not been the boy you fell for, but rather a ghost of who he once was. Where he had once been sweet and tender with you, there had only been cold stares and words sharp enough to cut through ice. You were not oblivious to the fact that he struggled with issues you could never comprehend, but you refused to be an accomplice in his undoing. Time after time you had tried to be the person he could cling to when the world sat heavily upon his shoulders, but you soon realized that love and affection could not solve all problems. Oh, and you had loved him so much that you would have done anything for him to smile at you the way he had when he uttered those big three words for the first time. He had watched you with eyes that held so much adoration that you thought that they would never dim, that they would shine brighter for each time his eyes found yours. But eventually, they had dulled, and so you had realized that you would not sacrifice yourself no matter how much you cared for him. It did not matter that you had called things off with him or that you had decided to leave him in order to save yourself, for the knowledge that he was actually gone made it feel like someone was clawing at your heart and trying to rip it apart. It felt like no time in the world would be able to heal the pain in your chest or dry the tears falling from your eyes.

Time was indeed a funny thing, how seconds turned into minutes and how then those minutes became hours. Hours that you spent reminiscing over a life you thought you had given up before it was lost forever. You clung to the memories of him as if they were the lifebuoy keeping an anchor from pulling you down in a sea made up of your own sorrow. You knew that you were staying in your own made-up memories of a relationship with more bad times than good, but a part of you felt that you could not grieve the person he had become. For he had been vile and horrid, and if you acknowledged that, you would feel guilty for the sadness overwhelming you. So yes, you stayed in your made-up reality and wept for the boy that could have been. As hours turned into days, your friends made every effort to comfort you and try to get you out of the room that had become your place of mourning. Their tries aggravated you, for they did not understand the feelings rushing through your body at such speed it made you lightheaded. Each one of them had hated Rafe Cameron with at least one bone in their body and you knew how some of them had looked the day he died as if they were content that he was finally gone. Relieved that he could no longer plague them with taunts and threats that might have become reality was it not for his passing. You might have understood this, had it not been for the grief and guilt plaguing every bone in your body.

As days turned into weeks, you eventually came to appreciate their efforts to help you. It was like your vision was starting to clear and you could finally start trying to live your life again, and the first step to doing that was always to surround yourself with people that made you roar with laughter. Their ventures to try and find the Cross of Santo Domingo, were helpful, to say the least. Those adventures were as distracting as they were terrifying since the outcome was never given. Your mixed friend group of pogues and kooks had actually found that damn cross as well. Who would have thought that a bunch of high school kids would be able to find a historic relic? The answer would have been no one, and that is why you don’t underestimate kids with no limits. The cross had been in your grasp until a greedy and manipulative Ward Cameron came along and grabbed it. Ever since that particular happening, things started going south fast and it all ended up with Sarah being kidnapped by her own guardians. It also ended up with the rest of you stowed away like cargo on the ship she was on. While John B and Pope carried out their plan to find Sarah and the famous cross, you, JJ, and Kie sweated from every pore as you waited to hear from them. You had zoned out, staring mindlessly into one of the walls of the container, in the background you could hear your two friends talk about their dreams for the future. Something about going on several surfing trips at various destinations with each other, and that part made your heart ache. Sure, after everything he had done, a future with Rafe had not been one of your dreams. Still, as you listened to your friends talk, you could only remember a time where he had been everything you wanted in life. You pressed your palms upon your face as if you somehow could force every memory of him to remain in that little part of your brain where you were hoping they would become forgotten. A loud clank dragged you out of your thoughts and you looked up just in time to see Pope and John B climb in through that small window opening, followed by a woman you had never ever seen. Shortly after that, problems started to arise and soon all of you were scrambling out of the container in hopes of not being detected by the workers on the boat. They were in obvious search of all of you, which made you sweat even more than you had done inside the container. All of you received different plans on how to tackle the situation, yours was to act as a lookout for John B as he searched for Sarah.

You followed him down to what you could only assume was the boiler room since steam was thick in the air and you took your place by the door as he ventured further down. His desperate cries for Sarah echoed through the room and you dearly wished for a response to be heard, but there was nothing except the sound of his shoes against the floor. Thump, thump, thump and then utter silence until John B utters a name that made it feel as if the floor was pulled away from under your feet.

“Rafe.”

One of your hands finds the doorframe, a poor attempt to steady yourself as you try to figure out if this is a trick played by your grieving mind. You take a few breaths and as the silence is once again interrupted by two raised voices, you follow John B’s path down into the room. The heart in your chest is beating so hard that it feels like you are going to throw up, and it only gets worse the nearer you come. At first, you only see your friend, but then you look past him

and

your

heart

stops.

Rafe Cameron had died in front of your very eyes, so either the gods were playing a nasty cruel joke or you had lost the battle with your mind. You shut your eyes just to open them again, and no matter how many times you did it, he still remained. What happened next was a bit peculiar to you, for weeks you had drowned in grief where sadness was the constant emotion, but as you looked him in the eye and saw that he was very much alive, rage and anger crushed into you with the force of a thousand waves. You stepped toward him, only for an arm to shoot out to stop you, and John B added to his gesture by saying “Don’t”. Laughter bubbled in your throat, for who was he to tell you what you could or could not say to your “dead” ex-boyfriend who seemed to never stop causing you grief.

“Find Sarah.” John B hesitated for a few moments before following your unspoken order to leave you and Rafe alone. It wasn’t surprising considering that his worry for Sarah would always overpower anything else. Once again you looked into Rafe’s blue eyes, remembering a time when you used to stare in them for so long you would see specks of green and grey. Had you searched for those colors now, you would probably have found them. However, you were trying to decipher whatever feeling that was shining in them, was it anger? No, his other features were too soft for that and the hand holding his weapon had gone slack as he watched you. Maybe it was relief? No that was not it either, for why would he be relieved to see you? You were not the one who had died and left the other behind. You stepped even closer to him, the simmering anger inside of your veins made your hands shake and he looked at them briefly as if he wanted to take them in his. Your hands clenched into fists and you watched as his shoulders dropped the tiniest bit, and suddenly you knew exactly what was shining in his eyes.

Love, and sadness. Your heart started to speed up again, and you knew that once you opened your mouth, the anger and grief that had become part of you, would tumble out in words that you would never be able to take back. But he had done something much worse, so he would listen, you would make sure of it. Your lips parted slightly and he must have seen it for his words came first.

“I- fuck I am sorry okay? But I had to do it, you wouldn’t understand but I had to do it, it was the best for everyone.” As he says this you can’t help the sound that slips through your lips, it was supposed to be a laugh but it sounds more like a sob. His eyes flicker between you and everything else in the room as if there was anything in here that could save him for this conversation. You move your hands toward your chest and his eyes watch as you press them hard against your chest, against the heart that won’t stop breaking.

“Best for everyone?” Your voice is the combination of a whisper and a ragged breath “Did you have my best interest in mind when you let me believe you had blown yourself up?” He winces and makes an attempt to say something but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Did it ever occur to you how your little stunt would affect the one person who still, despite everything, loved you?” This time, your voice has started to rise towards something like a scream, and how could you not scream when there is so much sadness inside of you that it felt like just looking at him would turn your body into a pool of water.

“You broke up with me, so don’t start acting like a victim where you aren’t one.” His features are starting to morph into those he carries when anger overcomes him, but you will not back away from this. Your hands are in your hair, pulling at it as if that would help you make sense of this situation. “You broke my heart long before I broke yours.” You can’t help the way your voice breaks or the tears that start falling from your eyes.“You needed and still need help and until you receive that help, you are prone to hurt anyone in your vicinity.” Now it is his turn to drag his hands through his hair and his breaths come faster and faster until you realize that he is starting to hyperventilate. He sinks to the floor and you follow, not sure how to help when it feels like his state is mirroring your own. With cautious movements, you place your hands on his shoulders, and the shaking of his body sends trembles throughout yours. For a while nothing happens, you just sit there with your hands on his body and watch him fall apart. Perhaps you should have been glad that he was suffering, after everything he had done to you he deserved it. But you couldn’t feel anything other than anguish and as a sob escaped his body every restraint you had kept on yourself broke and you hugged him towards your chest. You could never save him, but he clung to you as if you had the power to undo every wrong he had ever done. After a while, he looks up at your tear-streaked face and one of his hands reaches up to cup it. You want to look away because you can see everything in those eyes of his, every regret and every wish he has ever had. His forehead leans towards you and you feel his hot breath against your skin. As you breathe in the scent of cologne and feel his skin against yours, you feel overwhelmed by the fact that he is actually here. You notice that his lips part and for a second you are scared that he is going to kiss you, but he must know that there is a limit to your patience with him so he just whispers words with the promise of what could have been. “I wanted to be good for you.” A small smile takes place on your lips and you close your eyes as you try to restrain the well of emotions inside of you. “I know Rafe, I know.” He breathes out a little, almost as if he is relieved that you are aware that he tried in a world and with a mind constantly working against him. You knew, but you also knew that there was someone else out there for you. Someone who would love you in a way that Rafe would never be able to, in a way that would not send the two of you to the bottom of the ocean. Whoever was out there would make you swim. For so long you had wanted to believe that Rafe was the one, despite all his flaws you would have given anything for him to be your future. It was a relief to know that you could and deserved to have more. But you also knew that you needed to do something before that could happen.

“I will stay-.” Before you could even finish your sentence he whipped his head up to look at you with such hope you never wanted to continue talking. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to go on. “I will stay with you just to make sure you receive the help you need.” His whole body deflated and you had to bite your lip in order not to cry again. Eventually, he nodded and you closed your eyes in relief. You knew that this had to be the right move, no one else would listen to him or make sure he got help, so you needed to be the one to did. Just enough so that you finally could start swimming towards the surface.

[pinkteapotwriting]

Their Perfect Y/N

Wolfstar x Fem!reader

Warning : Smut, pretty chill though. Daddy kink. That kinda stuff.

 Word count : 2532

---

Your first order meeting. You were so young, you just got out of Hogwarts considered an adult in the muggle world. Only 18, and you had a war to fight, friends to defend, lives to protect. It’s funny how determined you were to obliterate every death eater, but your heart was caught in your throat at the prospect of entering headquarters. You tried to ignore it, this was the first step to saving the people you cared about. You watched the houses split apart and sucked in a big breath before knocking. 

Walking through the doorway was easy enough, being immediately overwhelmed by a high pitched, brutal shriek.

“MUD BLOOD, BLOOD TRAITORS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS. DISGUSTING, FILTHY-”

“SHUT UP YOU FUCKING HAG!”

You were frozen in a state of terror, already you were messing up and you haven’t even said anything yet. 

“Y/N, right?”

Your wide eyes moved towards the figure with sleek ebony curls. The intense grey eyes were intimidating, but once you looked closer you saw the twinkle of humor in them. You shook his tattooed clad hands and tried not to let your knees buckle under his firm grasp. 

“Yes, and I’d ask you yours, but the daily prophet has done a great job of introducing me already.”

His smile was genuine, but you could read into that touch of sadness. But he was quick to shake it off.

“Don’t mind my mother, I promise she’s just as unpleasant as you get to know her.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that-”

“Oh don’t worry about it love. No one told you. It’s amazing that you could come, Remus says you were one of his best students. Really exceptional at defense against the dark arts.”

Heat flushed to your face at the praise and the mention of your favorite professor.

“Professor Lupin is here too?”

Your question was quickly answered when those familiar arms you would stare at entranced in class were draped over Sirius’s shoulders.

“Nice to see you Y/N, but you’re not my student anymore so please, just call me Remus.”

“Feels illegal but sounds good Remus.”

You all found your way to the dining room table and tried your best not to be intimidated by the row of wizards you admired and respected so much. Before you got the chance to breathe though Molly had you trapped in a tight bear hug.

“Oh Y/N, so good to see you dear. Of course I’m not happy about the circumstance, but all the same, glad to know you’re here and safe.”

There was no oxygen left in your lungs to respond, so you just smiled and accepted her warm embrace.

“Molly, if you want her safe and healthy you might want to give her the chance to breathe.”

Grateful for Remus’s interjection you gave Molly a quick peck on the cheek, while she released you bashfully. 

“Thank you Molly.”

 The meeting itself was fine, it was the dinner afterwards that had you terrified, because right across from you was Sirius and Remus. Two of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen and their unrelenting questions and invested eye contact had the embarrassment coming up all at the same time. That didn’t deter them though. If anything it sprung even more questions and conversation starters. You didn’t even notice everyone else had left, leaving just you three at the table. You were cupping some tea between both hands, while Remus was leaning against Sirius’s shoulder. Sirius was replicating the affection by wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

It was peaceful, never had you felt so comfortable in the presence of other people before. So safe. 

“Y/N, I’m glad you came, like I said Remus speaks very highly of you and we need all the help we can get. So if you want to invite your boyfriend or something to join, you should.”

“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend actually, but speaking of which I had no idea you guys were together. You’re a really beautiful couple.”

Remus only smiled a little, but Sirius’s grin was proud.

“Thanks Y/N, you’re really quite beautiful too. We’re actually not gay though though, we’re both bisexual. We’ve even been known to have thirds in relationships. Nothing permanent though, haven’t found that right person.”

“Does that mean that you’re still open to-?

“Oh absolutely, there’s this girl we actually have our eyes set on right now.”

Your face fell.

“Oh, well if you two like her then she must be lovely.”

Remus and Sirius shared a look, clearly amused by your cluelessness and we all know what teases they can be. Remus spoke up this time.

“OH yeah, she’s a darling. She just joined the order.” 

“She has Y/H/C and Y/E/C. Exactly our type wouldn’t you say Remus?”

“An absolute beauty, exactly our type that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, she looks particularly cute when she holds a cup of tea, with an adorable confused expression.”

“I don’t understand, well I think I do but-”

Remus was sitting up straight now, zoning in on your troubled expression.

“Y/N, we want you. If you’re uncomfortable we can drop it and give you space from here on out and we’re so sorry for making you-”

“Wait. You guys like me? Like that?”

Sirius snorted at your surprise.

“How could we not? You’re completely captivating. Do you feel the same love?”

“I do, it’s just that I’m not experienced, like, at all. And you guys are so it’s intimidating.”

“We would never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable or unsafe. How about we talk more about this more tomorrow.”

Remus’s words were sincere, and well thought out. Yours were less eloquent, much more desperate sounding than you would have liked.

“No please, I need you now.”

Sirius was a man who smiled a lot. Always quick to let out a genuine, hearty laugh. But this was different. It was a taunting smile, a dangerous smile. And you were completely captivated. 

“Yeah? What’s got you so needy love? No one’s done anything yet.”

The table between you felt like it was keeping you miles apart. So you pouted, but Remus tutted. 

“Answer his question Pup, good girls speak up when told to.”

“I-I don’t know, I can’t help it. I’ve never felt like this before and I just need you.”

---

Clothes were discarded slower than you deemed necessary. Their clothes at least, not yours. You were only left in your underwear. They really just wanted to take their time with you, not worried about them, but you. You just looked so pretty sprawled out on their bed, it was impossible not to stop and admire your trembling figure. Remus slid behind you, allowing you to rest against his now bare chest. While Sirius knelt in between your legs, hovering over you, thumb running over your bottom lip. 

“So pretty baby. Can I take these off now?”

He was referring to your panties and you were all too eager to be rid of them. Except Sirius was still fully clothed, which wasn’t exactly ideal.

“Sure, but could you take this off?” You tugged at the bottom of his shirt suggestively, but Remus was tugging your arms back.

“That’s not how we ask for what we want love, try again.”

You bore into Sirius’s grey eyes. The twinkle of humour was gone, there was love and respect there, but mostly they were filled with hunger. His blatant lust had you nervous, not ever experiencing such intensity before. It had you subconsciously closing your legs. So Sirius was pouting.

“Darling you don’t have to be shy, we like hearing what you have to say.”

You sighed and spread your legs again while Remus robbed your arms soothingly.

“S-siri, can you take off your shirt please. I wanna see you.”

“Good girl for asking so nice.”

He departed from the bed to remove all but his boxers, and it just reaffirmed that you’d be spending hours tracing his tattoos later. Emphasise on the later, cause at the moment you’d rather spend time with him doing something else. He seemed to be feeling much the same, but had to pause to chuckle at your dazed reaction.

“See something you like?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Remus pressed a kiss to the back of your head. 

“Alright love, you ready? Do you want this?”

“Yes, please. Do you want this?”

“Of course love.”

Once Sirius was nestled between your thighs again he gave one reassuring peck before making his journey downward. He started sucking right below your ear, and you were already whimpering. He could get drunk on that noise. All the sounds you released so willingly as he nipped your collar bone, kissed your hip, and sank his teeth into your inner thigh. Right next to where you needed him most. He didn’t give you much time to complain though, cause soon enough that last barrier of clothing was being discarded and your fingers found their way through his black tresses. The vibrations of his moan against your clit had you bucking into his face. He kept his palms planted firmly on your thighs.

“That feel good Puppy? No one’s ever made you feel like this huh? Gotta stay still though, can’t make you feel good of you can’t stay still.”

“F-feels so good.”

“I know baby, Moony how bout you help her practice for another time.”

Remus seemed to understand what he meant and you were confused until-

“Open up pretty girl.”

Until Remus’s fingers were brushing past your lips. You started sucking on them as if it was second nature. 

Sirius went back to suckling against your clit, but this time one of his fingers was teasing your entrance. Which once had you whining against Remus’s fingers, so he pulled them out to let you speak. 

“What is it baby.”

“P-Please Siri.”

“By that way, how does she taste?”

He answered by inserting his pointer finger briefly before bringing it to Remus’s lips. Remus released it with a dramatic pop. 

“Now I think I’m jealous, Hurry up Pads so I can get a turn.”

You never thought you had this type of response in you, but Sirius’s fingers thrusting in and out of you was sending shocks through your body. Every touch burned in the best way possible and it was only a short matter of time until the coil snapped. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for us Y/N?”

“Y-yeah. Please, feels so good.”

“Bet it does, let go for us darling, I know you can.”

He placed delicate kisses across your shoulders as you released all over Sirius’s face and fingers. Despite not being the one who came Sirius parted ruefully with a heaving chest. Remus beckoned him closer and as soon as he was within reach Remus was cleaning off his glistening face with his tongue. A sight you found all too arousing.

“Did so good Y/N, you too Pads. My turn now.”

“Please I need to be inside of her so bad.”

Remus pondered for a moment.

“Could you be gentle with her as she needed. You’d have to be.”

“She was clenching around my fingers… don’t know how I’d respond with her wrapped around my cock. You’re right Moony.”

And there you were, wishing they’d skip the whole talking like you weren’t even there, and just fuck you already. Luckily your desire looked as if it was going to be satiated shortly as Remus and Sirius switched places. When Remus removed his clothes you stared at his member with complete and utter desire. He mistook it for nervousness though.

“It’s alright love, if you want to stop we can. We can go at your pace and I promise if you’re in any pain at all that we can-”

Your voice sounded pained, raspy and desperate as if you were being deprived of oxygen.

“Remmy, I need you. Please I need it so bad.”

He sighed in relief and stroked his length as he settled over top of you.

“I got you. Such a good girl using her manners. Tell me if it hurts at all okay.”

Chest against chest was not close enough, even that could not satisfy the desire, the need, to be close to Remus. It seemed he was replicating your feelings as he drank up every moan that flew past your lips. If Sirius wasn’t rubbing your arms and soothing your hairline you never would have been grounded enough to tell that this was reality. 

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding Pads. She’s so tight I can barely move. You feel so good love.”

Your high pitched moans were gradually becoming more staccato as Remus thrust into you.

“I-it’s not my fault you’re so big.”

“S’ not a bad thing at all Pup. You like my cock, you like being stretched out like this?”

“Yes yes yes. So much, please please Da-”

Embarrassment creeped up from the back of your mind, all the way to your cheeks, but Sirius noticed.

“What were you gonna call him baby. C’mon now, don’t be shy.”

Remus halted his movements to stare at your face intently.

“I- I don’t wanna, M’embarrassed”

Remus gave one more thrust to emphasise his point.

“Say it.”

You knew by the stern look on his face it was better to obey, or else you wouldn’t get what you wanted.

“Daddy, please let me cum. You feel so good. You’re so big daddy I-fuck”

You were cut off by your own moaning as Remus proceeded to thrust at a rapid pace.

“Cum then.”

It was like you were being blindsided. If you were standing you would have been knocked off your feet. Sirius held your hand the whole way, and your grip only tightened as Remus chased his own high. 

“Where do you want me to cum baby?”

“Please cum inside me Daddy.”

“Yeah, you want Daddy to breed you? So pretty and innocent, didn’t know you were so dirty baby. I’m gonna stuff you full sweet girl- FUCK.”

He bit into your shoulder as he painted your insides with his release, and you found yourself whimpering as he pulled out. Remus was always a good caretaker though.

“It’s alright sweetheart. You did so good. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No wait-”

“What is it pup?”

“Siri needs to feel good too.”

“If you’re sure then go ahead love.” Remus scootched out of the way so Sirius could situate you where he wanted. And that was face pressed into the mattress apparently. He sheathed himself fully inside of you, pressed his chest against your back so he could reach your ear and whisper.

“My turn, we’ll see who you’re calling Daddy at the end of this.”

---

Bonus

The prospect of war was terrifying. You were so focused on protecting everyone around you. So it was a great comfort knowing, as you slept in between Sirius and Remus, that you had two people who would go to all ends to keep you safe.

Because besides each other they now had something even more undeniably precious. 

You.

Their perfect Y/N. 

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @accioweaslcy @bluemoonyblurbs @weasleyposts