#in some twisted way the angst eases the pain LMAO

[foli-vora]

Summary: Signs!AU. It started off in the most bizarre of ways. Crop circles. You mean the bother of cleaning up someone’s stupid prank? But then the lights come—hundreds, thousands—floating menacingly above the cities. The panic starts to settle in.

You don’t let the dog outside at night anymore. Abnormal clicking filters through the aged radio perched in Frankie’s shed, and you see his frown deepen every day, dark eyes locked onto the skies more often than usual. His gun stays out of the safe.

And then they call it—some poor woman on the news sits in front of the camera, eyes watery and hands shaking. She says they’re coming. She says it’s the end, that we should brace for their arrival and pray. You’ve never seen Frankie move so fast.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: angst galore, drug references, swearing, supernatural themes, thriller/horror, future violence, guns, future blood/gore, future mentions of death/suicide

Word count: 4.4K

A/N: I’m not gonna lie, I’m excited about this one. Tag list is open to anyone who wants to join! I didn’t use my usual permanent one as it is lost on a broken laptop and this might not be everyone's cup of tea lmao. Enjoy, angels! xo

The bed’s cold.

It’s been cold for days, weeks, despite his body hot under the blankets. The chill that lingers in the room seeps into his bones, the air lacking your familiar breath of warmth, of comfort. He can barely smell you on your pillow anymore, his arms crushing it too hard against his chest night after night, drowning what was left of you with his own fragrance.

You’ll come home this week—he’s sure of it.

The house is spotless. There’s not a thing out of place, not a thing you’d have to worry about doing if, no when, you come home. Everything’s just as it should be.

He sends his usual morning text, asking his usual questions, and ending it with his usual I miss you. He worried at the beginning, the day after you packed a bag and left to stay with a friend. He worried that you’d ignore him, that you’d realise he was trouble and not worth the energy. His insecurities churned deep in his gut and kept him wide awake, the voice taunting as it echoes in his ears telling him he was nothing.

But you replied.

Even now, you reply. Every day.

He remembers the wash of tears in your eyes that day. Remembers how it gripped somewhere deep within him with relentless strength, pulling and twisting until he felt physically sick, bile searing as it crept up his throat.

“You lied to me?”

He couldn’t say no. That would be another lie. The burn of shame flooded him, and he couldn’t find the words to ease the pure pain melting into your soft features. You didn’t ask for much—just honesty. He even swore to you, early in your relationship, to never lie, to never hide. You’d been through enough bullshit with previous partners. And then he did.

Another lie, another broken promise.

His nervous pleading didn’t stop you from shoving clothes into a bag, his own tears didn’t break your steely resolve, and he’s glad—proud, even. You knew you didn’t deserve it. You were taking a stand for yourself, and it snaps him from whatever cloud had overcome his mind. He had gotten too comfortable, too lax with your feelings, and now he was paying the price.

The scratch of claws against hardwood drag him from his mind and alert him to the oncoming attack, and he tenses under the sheets just as a weight hits the bed, a head shoving itself under the blanket until a wet nose rubs against his cheek, a tongue quickly following suit.

Frankie’s chuckle is hoarse, sleep still curling in his throat, and then he flings the covers away, wrapping an arm around the furry body that nuzzles into his side. “I’m up, and yes she says good morning.”

Chip whines against his chest, digging deeper under his body until he was comfortably covered by his owner, tongue lolling from his mouth when a hand starts rubbing against that sweet spot along his ribs.

“I know, bud. She’ll be home soon.”

He hopes it wasn’t another broken promise.

The morning feels slow, and it still doesn’t feel right. Music doesn’t fill the kitchen with soft notes while food sizzles on the stove, feet don’t move along the floor in a clumsy sway of dancing with the scratching of trimmed claws against the hardwood trying to keep up - it’s just him, sitting opposite a vacant chair, full plate stark in comparison to the bare plate still sat on the table across from him.

His food’s long cold by the time he eventually gathers the strength to pick up his fork.

—

Chip’s sitting next to the front door when Frankie eventually wanders from the kitchen after meticulously cleaning everything, tail brushing along the floor in eager strokes. He barks slightly in impatience when Frankie makes no move for his boots, his hands instead remaining perched on his hips.

“What do you want?”

He knows what he wants - it’s the same every morning.

Breakfast, and then a walk through to the property a field over to check up on the stubborn elderly neighbour. Harold was a hard heart; lonely, irritable, and seemingly pissed at the world with the way he had a permanent scowl etched into his aged face, but you and Frankie both had adopted him the second he had come marching around in his stained overalls, ranting about fixing the fence the previous owners had destroyed while you were unloading boxes from the truck.

You had waved him onto the porch for a drink, working that charm you denied having, and he had been won over. He left a while after, grumbling with a softened face that the fence didn’t matter — you were both welcome by whenever you saw fit.

A brief wave of worry washes over him that quickly evaporates when his neighbour appears from the corn stretching out between the properties, face creased deeper than usual. He spies Frankie immediately, grunting in greeting while bending slightly to pat the excited dog bouncing around his feet.

“What’s with the cruiser?” Frankie nods to the police car idling in the driveway, and Harold frowns at it, huffing under his breath.

“Those damn kids again.” The man grumbles, arms tight across his chest as his weathered face puckers in the sun. “Destroyed half my crops last night, runnin’ through the fields and flattenin’ everything.”

Frankie frowns, following as his neighbour turns and leads him deeper into the crop with a wave of his hand. The quiet comfort of leaves encase him with the soothing song of insects, and he feels at ease wandering deeper into the familiar greenery, flooded with fond memories going back to his childhood of running through the towering stalks with laughter ringing in the sunlight.

“Look at this, those little shits.”

“Fuck me.” Frankie’s brows disappear into his hairline when he steps around the small hunched frame of Harold, blinking in shock at just how much damage had been done. It spread out easily a mile wide in each direction—a circle. A strangely, unnaturally... perfect circle.

He steps onto the flattened corn, eyes darting along the damage as Chip sniffs along his own path, barking sharply at whatever he finds before moving along, paws light as he tracks along the perimeter.

There was something in the air of the circle, something distinctly... unnatural. Sure, he had made some damage in his younger years, but never this, never to this extent. The force needed to flatten so much—it was more than what a couple of bored kids could do. They’d tire too quickly.

His frown deepens, hands finding his hips as he squints beneath his aviators.

“I don’t think kids did this.”

“You think it was that corporate leech McKinnon? He wants my farm, y’know. Offered me an obscene amount of money, can you believe it? Gloria’s rolling, God rest her. I said no, this my house. I’ll die before any development takes my farm. Told him to go suck on a pigs co—”

“Jesus, Harry.” Frankie grins, shaking his head. “No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

Harolds sniffs impassively, beady eyes narrowing in the harsh sunlight. “I got you, don’t I? And that lovely lady o’yours. This isn’t the only one, either.”

“What?”

“There’s more patches, just like this one. Deputy thinks they connect with that little path through there, but I don’t care what they do. Someone ruined my crops, the bastards. When I get my hands on them, so help me God—”

Frankie steps away, letting the angry muttering of his neighbour melt into the background as he follows where Harold pointed, stepping through the small path of cleared crops until he’s in another clearing. Chip follows quietly, a low growl kicking up in his chest as they step onto the bigger patch of destruction.

It was incredible, the amount of pure damage. He thought the first patch was big, but this was just ridiculous. It stretched further than before, the circle reaching what would be the centre of Harolds wide field, but the middle of the clearing was completely untouched. About a few metres square of crop, still standing, leaves blowing softly in the breeze, untouched by whoever had trampled through the corn.

He doesn’t like it.

The picture of the crop, so carefully, thoughtfully, preserved amongst so much destruction didn’t make sense. If someone was just messing around, finding something to do on a quiet Tuesday evening, why not destroy it all? Why leave a tiny insignificant patch?

The low grumbling from behind him turns violently aggressive, and he spins to Chip, frowning as the dogs heckles rise up as his lip curls over his teeth. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular, from what Frankie could see. There was no one else around, no sounds of strangers echoing through the corn or anything disturbing the peace.

It wasn’t like him.

Chip was hardly ever aggressive, only growling at the strangers that knock on the door after taking a wrong turn somewhere along the highway. It was never like this. It was usually just a warning growl, enough to get the message across to a few strangers that Frankie had backup if anyone ever wanted to try anything, but this? This was danger. This was something that had Frankie’s own heckles rising, the skin along the back of his neck prickling with a sudden urge to get the fuck out of there.

He doesn’t like it at all.

He backs away from the clearing, hand gentle as it smooths over Chip’s soft fur in a silent show of ease, and the pup calms instantly under his touch. Harold’s still muttering to himself when he gets back to the first clearing, kicking the corn on the floor with a grunt.

“What d’ya think?”

“I think someone was very busy.”

Harold snorts, falling in step with Frankie as they leave the clearing.

“She not home yet?”

Frankie swallows, eyes falling to the floor. “No.”

His neighbour grunts, nodding before delivering a firm slap to Frankie’s shoulder in a show of silent support. “Give her time.”

—

“It’s fucking ET, tryin’ to phone home and shit.”

The bustle of patrons around the bar and people conversing over lunch in the booths lining the windows somewhat drown out Frankie’s snort of amusement, his frame bending at the waist to line his shot up on the pool table after shooting a quick playful scowl at the man on the other end.

“Shut up, Benny. The guy’s lost a lot.”

The younger Miller grins, leaning on his pool cue and tilting his head in thought. “Was it McKinnon? Dick’s been trying to get his hands on that land for months.”

Frankie hums in thought as he focuses, snapping the cue forward and pocketing his ball. Standing, he shrugs with a small frown, passing by Benny as he steps around the table. “I don’t think so.”

“Probably a bunch of kids just passing through town. I doubt any locals would do it—that guy’s scary as shit.”

“Harry wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Benny fixes him with a look of disbelief. “He chased me with a rake.”

“You were jumping all over his tractor.”

“How the fuck was I meant to know that wasn’t your land?! You don’t have any fences! Besides, I said sorry.”

“What?” Frankie laughs, abandoning his shot and standing to fix the Miller with an arched brow. “No you didn’t. You called him a unmedicated fossil, and told him to go back to the nursing home.”

Benny shrugs, reaching for his beer. “And I stand by my statement. He’s like a hundred years old—oh shit.”

Frankie turns, half expecting Harold’s hunched frame to be standing there glaring daggers at Benny, but it’s you. The breath leaves his chest in a sharp exhale. You’re walking closer, fingers fiddling with the strap of your bag, but the nerves fall from your face the second Chip is up and sprinting towards you, paws slipping clumsily on the glossy bar floor.

“Hi baby,” you coo, falling to your knees and letting the thick furry body wiggle into your arms, tail slapping your face as he spins trying to get closer. “Have you been good?”

“He always is.” Frankie smiles, voice suddenly turning to dust in his throat. It’s croaky, catching in his mouth and he clears it quietly, tongue slipping along his suddenly dry lips. He feels a hand gently squeeze his shoulder, but he doesn’t bother looking at Benny as he quietly slinks away.

“That’s right—you’re always a good boy.” Chip makes a low noise of appreciation as you rub his ears, nuzzling into your lips as you kiss his head softly. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” you say quietly, standing.

“It’s just Benny.” Frankie shrugs, lips twitching as you smile.

“Do you... would you be okay with a chat? Now? I can come back—”

“No, no! It’s fine.”

You find a booth and settle down opposite him, smiling at the face that eagerly shoves its way into your lap. Chip calms at your coo, and instead sprawls out along the ground beneath the table, keeping a piece of himself touching both you and Frankie.

“How are you?”

It’s a lame start, but now that you’re here, in his presence, your previously memorised words had vanished and you needed something. He seems to sense your struggle, and smiles lightly.

“I’m okay... you?”

“I’m okay.”

Silence settles over you and you shift nervously, jeans rubbing against the aged leather beneath you. He’s tired, you can see it in his eyes. Has he been struggling to sleep? Or is it... something else keeping him awake? He sees the thought pass along your face, knowing you so damn well, and sighs quietly.

“I haven’t touched it. Not since—” he trails off, eyes falling to the table, and you nod quietly. “I swear.”

It’s out of your mouth before you even think it. “Not like you’d tell me the truth, anyway.”

He flinches, but remains quiet, the frown between his brows deepening as he swallows the sudden lump in his throat. It was a low blow, but in a twisted way, he understood.

You feel the wave of guilt flow over your body and shrink against the booth, hand automatically reaching across to cover his, but it stops halfway, your fingers tightening into a fist before pulling it back.

“I’m sorry, Frankie. That was—”

“No. I deserve that.” His lips twitch up into a small, reassuring half smile, and Chip whines from his position on the floor, soft fur brushing against your ankles as he shuffles closer.

“We miss you.” He continues, deep sorrowful eyes shining with the tears he was fighting to keep at bay. “A lot. Please come home, I—”

“I don’t know, Frankie...”

He’s blown it. It’s done, and there’s no going back. Suddenly the hope he had been desperately holding onto the past few weeks expires in his stomach, and he feels the crushing weight of panic tighten around his chest. He feels sick. He feels... he doesn’t even know. It’s too fucking much—

You see the flood of dread wash over his features, and rush to speak. “I don’t want to give up on us, Frankie.”

His eyes flicker from the table up to meet yours, hands nervously tangling on the cool timber surface.

“I love you—so much... but if I’m going to stick around, I need you to understand that I’m hurt. I didn’t think you’d ever lie to me, and you did. What am I meant to do with that? I should be the one person you don’t want to lie to.”

“I know. I know, baby, I was stupid—”

“I’m not bringing it up for another apology, Frankie. I just want my pain acknowledged, and a promise we can do better if we move forward. No more lies. Thick or thin, I want to be here for you. Please let me.”

He’s nodding as you speak, hands trembling as he reaches across the table to wrap around your own. The warmth of his skin oozes into the chill covering yours, and your fingers part automatically to slot his in-between.

You’d missed his hands. You’d missed him.

“No more lies.” He promises, fingers tightening around yours.

“Are you still in therapy?”

“Every Monday.”

“And group?”

“Every Thursday.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Good. I’m proud of you.”

Self loathing fills his voice. “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

“Please don’t be hard on yourself. You’ll get there. I know you will.”

—

Music. It fills the room. It gives it life.

Frankie couldn’t help the achingly wide grin stretching his face as he leans against the doorframe, watching Chip walk on two legs as you hold his paws gently, singing to the face that nuzzles up at you as you dance around the kitchen.

It had taken another week, but finally... you were home. Your bag had been unpacked, your clothes tucked neatly back in the drawers, his toothbrush was no longer the only one in the cup next to the bathroom sink.

“Come on—”

Your voice snaps his attention on you, and his grin widens impossibly further. He spins you into his arms, tucking them tightly around you as you sway to the song, your own hands winding around his neck and following his lead.

“I have to leave soon.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I know—I’ll be here when you get home.”

His heart hammers at the reminder, the thought that he wasn’t coming home to an empty house anymore relighting the fire in his chest. He holds you closer, laughing at your quiet giggles, and the peace that overwhelms him triggers that ugly thought in the back of his mind—that he didn’t deserve this happiness.

The feeling of your lips pressing playful kisses along his jaw chases that thought away, and he lets himself drown in the familiar warmth you had bought back into the house.

You waved him off as his truck disappeared down the gravel driveway a mere hour later, stomach still rolling with the fresh giddy feelings Frankie could still stir in you over two years later. The settle back into the house had been easy, despite your earlier worries of not feeling comfortable.

The promise of a fresh slate lingered in the air, new promises hanging from the corner of the rooms you walked through. You had complete faith in him, despite what had happened. It was never about the drugs—you knew recovery was hard. It was the lying. The fact that he had looked into your eyes, not a flicker or trace of doubt...

But not this time. You believed it with your heart.

The evening passed peacefully. You saved dinner on the stove, content to reheat it and share it with Frankie when he got home. Chip stayed by you the entire night, only leaving through the door to do his business. It wasn’t until you were mixing food in the metallic bowl with his name stamped onto the side, that you realise.

Where the hell was he?

You take the bowl from the kitchen, standing in the lounge with a look of confusion.

“Chip!”

Your frown deepens the longer you don’t have a bounding ball of fur run at you. It wasn’t like him to not be ready to go for his dinner. And, now that you think about it, he hadn’t even been at the window like he usually would when you made his dinner. He’d usually watch you through the window pane, paws perched on the timber framing with his wet nose smooshed against the glass, leaving wet streaks across the surface.

You abandon his bowl by the back door and walk out onto the porch, eyes straining to see through the darkness. You study each darkened shadow and crevice, unable to see the flash of the white patches of his fur in the moonlight.

“Chippy! Come on, bud!”

Nothing.

Worry starts to churn low in your gut, and you pull your robe tighter around your torso as you walk further out onto the yard, slippers kicking up the condensation resting on the blades of grass. He wasn’t one to wander far, especially at night. He preferred keeping close to you or Frankie in the dark, finding comfort in your familiar presence.

You startle when a yelp reaches your ears, the sound echoing in the pitch black deep in the corn fields, and the worry filling your limbs turns instantly to panic.

“Chip!”

Not thinking twice, you rush into the tall stalks of leaves, brain running at full speed. The fields were filled with potentially dangerous things—old tools, rusted nails dropped from previous machines... he could’ve stepped on anything. Were there snakes here? Coyotes? You hadn’t even asked Frankie—

“Chippy, come on—where are you? Make a noise, baby!”

A rustle to your right.

You turn to it immediately, hands pushing and shoving at the crop that forces you back, desperate to reach him. The longer you struggle forward, the more confused you get. You could have sworn the rustle you had heard was merely a few metres away—you had come further than that now. A lot further.

The darkness suddenly seems less innocent.

It swims around you, your vision blurring along the edges. It was all the same. You didn’t know which way was right, what way was home. Chip. Chip would lead you back. Just get to Chip—

Forcing the nerves dancing along your muscles into bravery, you push forward, jaw tightening the deeper you go and then it startles you out of nowhere, so piercing in the still of the night, and stopping your heart dead in your chest in fright.

Barking.

And it hits you then, your skin prickling at the base of your scalp as the increasing barks hit your ears.

Someone was here. Someone was in the corn.

Chip was on guard... he knew something was wrong. His barks were defensive, furious. He was chasing something, someone. And they had been close, much closer than you had even realised. They had caused the rustling so close to you, not Chip. He would’ve come to you instantly, injured paws or not. Fuck, they had been so close.

And now he was alone in the dark, with a stranger. Is that why he yelped? Was it them? Had they hurt him?

What have they done to him?

You run now, blades of leaves whipping harshly against your cheeks with quick stings, and then suddenly there’s nothing. No leaves, no stalks, just nothing but the pale moonlight, shining over the completely bare clearing.

You take no notice of it, of the bizarre vacancy in the middle of a crop field and the way it’s just so startlingly unnatural, because he’s there. God, he’s there. Your body slackens in relief, stepping quickly, carefully, over the damaged corn and dropping to his side, holding his body close as his low growls vibrate against your chest.

Fingers tangling in his soft fur, you cast a studying glance around the perimeter, feeling slightly braver now that you weren’t alone in the dark. You want to call out... but then you’d be that person you and Frankie both yelled at in horror movies.

“Who’s there?!”

You shriek in the sudden torchlight blinding your eyes before sighing heavily in relief. “Harry.”

He marches to you immediately, standing protectively over you and scowling at the surrounding corn as you stumble onto two feet, Chip whining quietly and pressing into your legs.

“There’s someone out there.”

“I know—followed ‘im ‘ere. They ran. You alright?”

“I want to get out of here.”

Harold nods, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “I’ve got you. We’ll turn back—we’re close to my house. I’ll take you home along the perimeter... don’t want you out in this with whoever’s out there.”

His angry muttering surprisingly keeps you calm as he leads you back through the corn, hand never leaving you in the dark. Chip stays glued to your feet, ears perked up and on alert. The warm light that floods from Harry’s front porch greets you when you emerge from the crop, and you heave a quiet sigh, heart thundering furiously against your chest.

Frankie’s pulling up when Harold walks you home, brows immediately deepening into a frown as he fumbles in his haste to get the door open after cutting the truck off.

“What happened?”

His arms wind tightly around you the second you rush into him, and he can barely make out your words muffled against his shirt.

“The bastards are back.” Harold mutters, nodding to the field. “Heard the boy barkin’ and knew he found ‘em, so I grabbed this and went lookin’. She was out in the middle of it.”

Frankie pulls away, fingers tight around your arms as he holds you at arms length, frowning deeply in disapproval. “You went out there alone? Unarmed?”

“I didn’t know there was someone there—I just heard Chip. I didn’t realise how close they were.”

His eyes harden. “What?”

“They were right there, Frankie.” Tears build along your lash line as the adrenaline that had been pounding through you evaporates, leaving an unsteady panic that had a tremble building in your hands. “Right next to me, and I didn’t even know.”

“Get in the house.”

“Frankie—”

“Get in the house.”

Harold senses the change immediately, wrapping a soft hand around your arm and leading you away. “Come on, love. Let’s grab some tea, calm our nerves, eh?”

Frankie stays put, eyes roaming along the corn, ears focusing on any little thing that seemed out of place. It was deathly silent. Not a god damn sound at all, which meant only one thing.

“Yeah, I know you’re there, asshole. I know you can hear me.” His teeth clench, face contorting into anger the longer he looks into the darkness, and he lets it melt into his voice. “You stay the fuck away from my family, and you leave Harry alone, or I’ll fucking find you. Give me a reason to—I dare you.”

The song of crickets fill the air, and then he knows he’s now alone.

+

A note on Chip.

Tag list: @julesorwhatever @you-got-me-starry-eyed​ @sharkbait77 @headinthestarz @goblinsimp @mandocrasis​ @sherala007 @quietpainter @heythere-mel @comfortzonequeen @notagamersdey @doin-stuff @cannedsoupsucks @vibin-hippie @pedritoispunk @hope-for-the-best-98 @songsformonkeys @phoenixhalliwell @ikinmahlen @pintsizemama @justatiredpotato @pedrosmustache​ @ezrasbirdiealso @wyn-n-tonic

[weelittleweasley]

love affair (g.w.)

prompt: a relationship with george weasley was all you wanted. but it seemed as though the two of you had two different ideas of what a relationship meant.

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader, fred weasley x fem!platonic reader

warnings: cheating relationships, physical violence, tiny blood warning (literally one sentence), lots of angst, language

word count: 7.5k

author note: this is an amalgamation of me getting out of a very strange relationship six months ago, driver’s license by olivia rodrigo, and two ghosts by harry styles, so take that as you will. this made me sad to write. im so sorry. i also wrote this half tired so if it doesn't make sense, IM SO SORRY LMAO

Knees curled up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs, forcing your body into a coddled position as you sat upon the window sill. Forehead pressed to the glass, the coolness of it made your warm forehead ease with the sensation, condensation fogging up the window pane as your eyes stared mindlessly out of the window. Small mouth sounds fell from your parted lips as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. In the fog on the pane, you dragged your finger across the condensation, drawing little figurines as you attempted to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts that flooded with panic at the news you had received moments ago.

Your pointer finger drew a small heart into the glass before you ripped it away. The sound of a deep tenor rumble resonated outside as small water droplets began pitter-pattering down onto the window. The rain was soothing in contrast to your current state, washing over the lush landscape of the Scottish countryside that Hogwarts castle stood proudly on. 

The rain renewed and refreshed the early autumnal landscape. Water struck upon delicate flowers and reached up to the pale gray sky, accepting the water gratefully. Like a stream in a forest, water rushed down the sides of the Whomping Willow as it twisted and shook off the rain as it poured down. The lush green grass absorbed the water, causing mud puddles to form in pockets across the ground. A smile creeped onto your face as you bit your bottom lip, thinking about how George would insist the next morning that you two go romp around in the mud, behaving like children. George loved mornings after the rain, the way the air was crisp, the smell of fresh dew, the soft ground beneath his yellow rain boots. 

But with the thought of George, your anxious thoughts swirled in your mind like a mixing bowl. You took a deep breath in and repeated to yourself that you would not like to jump to conclusions. This could have been a misunderstanding and Patricia Stimpson had just conveyed the message incorrectly. But the churning in your gut suggested otherwise.

The rain came down relentlessly now, thunder rumbling like a snare drum as darts of lightning flashed far away. The storm was far away, thankfully, which put your mind at ease. 

As a rumble of thunder rippled through, gentle knocks sounded at your door. Rather than getting up and greeting the expected visitor at the door, you lifted your wand beside you and with a gentle flick, the door creaked open just enough for him to push it open all the way.

Entering the room, George closes the door behind him. Without even saying a word, he knows you aren’t yourself. Something was troubling you and it was palpable. The way you curled up watching the rain trickle down the window as you followed it lazily with your finger. George sighs and walks towards you. “Awfully quiet today, aren’t we?” he speaks simply as he takes a seat across from you on the window sill, him sitting criss cross. 

You peel your eyes away from the window and give him a gentle smile as your mind screams to tell him to leave the room, you need space. But when you look at him, your heart swells with all the love you can conjure in your body. He was your George. How could he have done something so unthinkable, but your heart still leaped at the sight of him? You pushed the thought away; nothing was confirmed yet. “Hi, Georgie,” you speak quietly. He scoots closer to you, smile on his lips as he leans forward and presses a light kiss to your forehead. “There’s just a lot on my mind today.”

George peels your arms from around your legs and pulls on them gently, making you wrap your legs around his waist as you huff, giving into his touch. Now, you were wrapped around him like a koala would be, his hands resting on your hips as he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “Would you like to share with the class?” he jokes as you give him a look that tells him you were serious. He clears his throat. “Sorry, darling,” he smiles. “What’s bothering you? You can tell me...I don’t like seeing you upset. Especially if it is something I can prevent.”

How ironic. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you inhale a shaky breath. “I received some news from Patricia Stimpson this morning,” you start as you gently start to peel yourself off of George. It didn’t feel right to talk about something like this while being complete entangled in each other. George gives you a concerned look, a little confused as to why you would be talking to Patricia Stimpson. “She saw something that you did that is honestly quite disturbing.”

Patricia came up to you this morning after you had finished breakfast in the Great Hall with George as you parted ways for the day, him to the library and you to you the courtyard. She had a look of urgency in her eyes as she tapped your shoulder and requested to speak somewhere privately. The two of you sat on a bench in the courtyard as she gave you a sad smile and revealed information that you never thought you would receive. 

Your heart had stopped beating at the mention of the combination of names strung together in that sentence. It felt like your worst nightmare had grown legs and had walked into your life. The news slapped you in the face as you just stared at her when she told you, looking into her eyes that looked at you so sad for you. “You mean to tell me,” you breathily laugh, not wanting to even think that this situation was a possibility, “that you saw George and...Angelina...”

She nodded her head, sadly with a look of guilt on her face. She hated that she had to be the barer of bad news, especially since you two weren’t that close. But she would hate to see another girl struggle to breathe as rumors flooded in when she knew she could have helped prevent the situation. Patricia gulped and spoke, “Snogging, yeah.” The thought makes bile rise in your throat as you swallow hard and close your eyes. “It happened a few days ago. They were in the library in the back. I was trying to return a book and I stumbled upon them. The two of them both froze and Angelina then yelled at me to leave and I did, I was shocked, I didn’t know what to do,” she tries to reason. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

You shook your head and placed a reassuring hand on Patricia’s. “Please don’t apologize. You didn’t nothing wrong, darling,” you give her a weak smile. “There was nothing you could after seeing that except tell me. Thank you for telling me,” you speak as you inhale a deep breath, trying to understand how something like this could have happened.

George went to the library often, but he was usually accompanied by Fred or Lee to talk about the joke shoppe or sorts. He would have meetings every four days. If he had slipped away to do something with Angelina, Fred or Lee would have known. But what really stung was the fact that it was Angelina. Your first friend at Hogwarts. She introduced you to George. She helped set you two up. And now she was the one tearing you apart. 

Patricia starts rambling, “I should have told you when I saw it, but I was scared that I had the wrong twin. That it was Fred and not George, but I could have sworn it was George. It had to have been.”

You speak, “Stop justifying things, Patricia. It’s okay. I’ll, um, I’ll have a chat with George about this I guess. Thank you, again, Patricia. I’ll...see you around.”

When you recounted the events to George, he just sat there and looked at you in disbelief. The way he looked at you with so much pain in his eyes made you feel guilty for accusing him of such a thing. You gulped down a dry swallow and told yourself you couldn’t cry, but that didn’t halt the tears from welling up in your eyes as you inhaled a shaky breath. George still just stared at you in shock. “Please, Georgie,” you beg, just barely above a whisper, knowing if you speak any louder, you’ll crumble. “Tell me it’s not true.”

Your bottom lip trembles and threatens to spill out a sob, but it’s stifled when George pulls you into his chest as you cry into his jumper, taking it in your hands in fistfuls. You let cries erupt throughout your body as George rubs your back soothingly, kissing the top of your head. “Don’t cry, angel,” he coos as you sob into his chest, praying to whoever was listening that this wasn’t happening. “Shhhh,” he hushes you, gently prying you off of his chest so he could look into your eyes.

Looking up at him teary eyed, George cradles your face in hands, thumbs wiping away your tears as you tremble like a child after a sick nightmare. He pressed a kiss to one cheekbone and then the other, where tears fell before he pressed his forehead up against yours. “Never in my life,” he speaks, “would I do that to the girl I love.” The fear evaporates from your body as your shoulders relax and you let out a shaky breath. “I know Patricia claims it was me, but it was absolutely Fred. He’s had his eye on Angelina for a few weeks now. Nice to know that my own twin brother doesn’t tell me when he snogged a girl,” he teases as you giggle lightly. “(Y/N)...” he speaks, his voice trailing off, almost as if it were a warning. “I love you.”

His declaration of love felt more like a statement when he said it. As if you should have known. It was firm and pressing. You shook your head as you smiled lightly, sniffling. It was dumb of you to question George’s loyalties in the first place. He loved you fiercely. “I love you, Georgie.”

And for the first time ever in this relationship, the words you exchanged felt out of place. Misused. But you knew the words still rang true for the both of you after three years of dating. If they didn’t, you wouldn’t have your lips pressed against his right now in a gentle kiss, trying to mend what had almost been broken.

--------------

A few days had passed since the rain and you found yourself happily walking down the hallway, hand in hand with George. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, making you laugh and slap his chest as he joined you in laughter. George squeezed your petite hand in his larger one before he spoke, “Freddie and I have got a team meeting in the library. We’ve got potential investors for the joke shoppe.”

Your eyes widen as you excitedly push his shoulder. “Investors? Geez, Georgie, why didn’t you tell me?!” you exclaim as he chuckles. “I’m so proud of you,” you beam, gently stroking his cheek before you place a gentle kiss to his lips. “Go on then, go do more exciting things,” you push him in the direction of the library.

George sends you a wink, “I’ll catch you after, alright?” He walks backwards down the hall. “In your room?” he asks as you smile and nod. “Brilliant.”

And with that, he’s gone as you shake your head and continue walking down the hallway. As you walk, you think about how that night between you and George had brought you closer. He wanted to be around you more, he gave you more compliments, he paid close attention to how you were feeling. It was like he was becoming a more attentive boyfriend. A new George, one that you could get used to. 

You lazily walked through the halls of Hogwarts, chatting with people you knew as you passed. Now, you found yourself giggling as you stumbled upon Ron, linking arms as dancing down the hallway. You erupted in a fit of giggles as Ron spun you around and he chuckled. The two of you engaged in light chatter before he offered you a snack from his satchel, a bright red apple. “What is it with your family and always eating? I don’t get it,” you tease him.

Ron shrugs, “Always be prepared?”

You roll your eyes as you continue to walk, talk, and eat as you turn the corner and you furrow your brows. There was Fred leaning up against the wall, chatting to Lee about something before Lee threw his head back in laughter. That was odd. Quite a short meeting Fred and George had. “Oi!” you call out. “Freddie!” You drag Ron down the hallway to meet his brother and Lee as Ron throws a lazy arm around your shoulder, towering over you.

Fred turns his eyes and when his eyes land on you a genuine, happy smile appears on his face. “Oi, is my younger git brother annoying you?” he teases as Ron sarcastically laughs before punching Fred in the arm as Fred laughs melodiously.

“Piss off, Fred. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he sneers.

You turn to Fred again, “I thought you and Georgie had a meeting about the joke shoppe. I was just with him like twenty minutes ago and he said he had to run.” You were genuinely curious and also confused. You thought an investor meeting would take more time than just a mere twenty minutes if it was a serious offer. 

Fred shakes his head and tucks his hands into his pockets. “No,” he speaks, brows furrowed, confused as to why his brother would relay false information to you like this. “We have a meeting about the shoppe every other week. Our next meeting isn’t for another week.” Lee looks at you, puzzled, looking back and forth between you and Fred. There was something wrong. 

Your heart sinks and your mouth goes dry. Ron watches your face drop from an excited smile to the color of parchment. He places a cautious hand on your shoulder. Before he can ask you how you’re feeling, you speak up, “Freddie,” you gulp. “This is going to sound like a weird question, but I need you to be brutally honest with me.” Fred looks at Lee completely puzzled before looking at you. “About a week ago, did Patricia Stimpson walk in on you snogging Angelina in the library?”

Lee cackles, “He wishes! Angelina Johnson wouldn’t go near our poor Fred with a ten foot pole!” Lee claps Fred’s shoulder as Fred shoots him a glare, making Lee pipe down immediately. Now was not the time to joke around. And that really meant something when it came to Fred Weasley.

Your heart sinks further and your chest starts to rise and fall with anxiety. The big red apple that was once in your hand fell to the floor and rolled away. Something was gravely wrong. Ron peels his arm off of you, knowing that you need space as you anxiously look between Fred and Ron and Lee, trying to figure out where George could be then. If he wasn’t with Fred or Lee or you, then that meant he was alone. Or...

Fred looks at you and takes a step closer to you. “(Y/N),” he speaks, approaching you with caution like you were ticking time bomb. “Look at me,” he speaks, placing both of his hands on your arms as you look upwards at him, fear in your eyes. “Where did my brother tell you he was?”

Breathing heavily, you open your mouth and no sound comes out at first, just a squeak. Fred’s eyes soften, concerned for you and moment away from kicking his brother’s teeth in. His eyes coax you into trusting him with the information you have. Finally, you manage, “In the library, with you, talking about investments for the shoppe.”

Without another word, Fred takes your hand in his and speaks directly to Lee. “If George doesn’t come back to the room tonight, don’t go looking for him,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Ron, stay here. We don’t need more attention to the scene we’re about to cause. Or should I say, I’m about to cause.” 

Before anyone can object, Fred and you are now walking, more marching, down the halls of the castle to the library to hunt out George. Panic and fear are pumping through your veins as Fred radiates pure fury. Fred and you were always very close, even more so after you and George had started dating. In Fred’s eyes, you were like another sister to him. He felt the overwhelming need to protect in a way that was different how George protected you. Fred knew the inner workings of your mind like the back of your hand. You were the first person he came to when he had a problem and vise versa. Fred was your friend and a damn good one at that. He hated seeing you upset, especially if he knew it was the doing of his own twin. 

“Freddie,” you breathe out. “Patricia came to me days ago and told me that she saw them, but I didn’t believe it. He had told me that it was you and that you had a thing for Angelina for a while and I believed it because I have always trusted George. But now I-”

Halting dead in his tracks before you walk into the library, Fred grabs your shoulders and spins you to face him. “Listen to me, (Y/N),” he commands your attention. “I love my brother. He’s my other half. But something he can be that the guy who is down right dick. And if he did, or is doing, what we’re thinking, then he’s even worse than I had ever imagined. And that is on him.” Fred’s words bring you peace, but also a wave of nerves. Could George ever be unfaithful? Did the relationship have that many cracks that he allowed himself to slip through one? Fred’s brown eyes that looked so like George’s stared into yours as he gave you a smile. “You’re the best girl I know and George is a fucking idiot if he’s letting you go. Regardless of what happens in there, I am your best friend first and foremost. I’m here for you no matter what he does.”

You nod your head and sigh before pulling Fred into the tightest hug you’ve ever given anyone. With all your might, you hold him close as he sighs and hugs you back, knowing the outcome of this situation before it had even unfolded. Fred thought to himself how could his brother be so selfish, so childish, so moronic to do what he had done. There was no going back now. You can feel the hot tears stinging the back of your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. You were still clinging onto the last bit of hope before you entered the library. “Thank you, Freddie.” 

His arms gave you one last squeeze before taking your hand in his. “Are you ready?” he asks, eyes genuinely searching yours for your answer. Fred was ready to go in there without you to confront his asshole twin and your once best friend, yelling and screaming. Rage was pumping through his veins, but he tried his best to conceal it in front of you. Fred didn’t want you to see him like this. 

With a weak nod, you inhale a shaky breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you walk into the library and you feel your heart drop into your feet when you step in. You didn’t like the way the library felt in this moment. It was cold and hot at the same time and you felt stifled. But that didn’t stop you from chaotically walking to the back of the stacks to find your boyfriend. 

You peer down aisles trying to find that familiar tuff of red hair, but all you find are diligent students reading, some joking around with each other, others peering through the stacks to find books. “Where the bloody hell...” you whisper to yourself, growing frustrated that you couldn’t find George. Your nervous energy was now being channeled into anger as you balled your first beside you.

Before you can flip around and ask Fred where he thought his brother could be, you hear a familiar low voice and girlish giggle from behind you. You look at Fred, your eyes wide and stomach churning. Fred opens his mouth to say something, but you are already walking to the back of the library to find exactly what you expected.

The red haired boy your heart belonged to was now pressed flushed against your once best friend, lips connected to each others as her fingers played with the hair that stuck up on the back of his neck. George’s hands were placed on her hips before running down her sides to squeeze her bottom cheekily as she giggled. You inhaled a sharp gasp at the sight, wanting to vomit at the sight of George and Angelina pressed up against each other like this. Your mouth hangs open as the detach themselves from their embrace, faces falling from smiles to sheer horror. 

“Fucking hell,” you breathe out, the tears that threatened to fall outside now flowing down your cheeks freely. You feel Fred’s presence behind you as George and Angelina’s eyes dart between you and Fred. Angelina stutters for a moment as George’s hands fly off of her body and into his pockets. “So is Angelina your potential investor?” you ask, bottom lip trembling in horror as Fred steps right behind you, placing his hand on yours giving it a squeeze, letting you know that he is right there with you. 

George steps away from Angelina and Angelina fumbles with her words, “(Y/N)-”

You scoff, “Oh, shut up, Angelina. You have no excuse. You were supposed to be my best mate, but instead you decided that you’d rather fool around with my boyfriend behind my back, eh? Some fucking friend you are.” 

Angelina’s face contorts with sadness and guilt as she looks down at her feet, playing with her fingers. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she tries to defend herself. 

With pure fury rushing through your veins, you laugh. “Well, I’d bloody hope you didn’t plan on it!” you exclaim. “I always knew you to be competitive, but not like this. This is low. Even for you,” you shake your head before looking at George who has guilt slapped all over his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stick up your hand. “Don’t even say anything to me. Don’t you dare even look at me. You’re a liar and a cheat and loathsome. I hope you’re happy. Angelina, he’s all yours.”

You turn away and let a hand fly up to your mouth to conceal your sob as you run out of the library with Fred draping a protective arm around your shoulder. “Come on, now,” he whispers to you as some people notice your state. “It’s over. They’re both done and that’s it. You can cry, darling, it’s alright.”

Fred whisks you out of the library quickly and the moment you step down the secluded hallway, you collapse into Fred’s arm as he holds you, brushing your hair calmingly. The sobs rake through your body, causing it to tremble hopelessly in his arms as he holds you tight. Seeing you like this filled Fred with rage as he kissed the top of your head as he allowed you to cry into his chest, holding onto him for dear life. You sob and mumble things into his jumper as he nods his head. “I’m here, it’s alright.”

That’s when you hear his voice. “(Y/N), please let me talk,” George pleads, pain evident in his voice, but immeasurable to how you felt in this moment. You don’t dare look at him, burying your face deeper into Fred’s chest as his grip grows iron on you.

“Back off, mate, haven’t you hurt her enough?” Fred defends you as he rubs your back. “What has gotten into, George?”

George’s jaw clenches and his fists bundle up beside him. “Piss off and let me talk to my girlfriend, Fred,” he speaks through gritted teeth. “Please, (Y/N),” his voice changes when he addresses you, more gentle and coaxing as you sob harder into Fred’s chest. “I need to tell you my side of the story.” Fred laughs as you peel yourself from him, wiping your eyes, hot with tears. “There’s no explanation needed, dear brother,” Fred sneers at George who with a sarcastic smile presses his tongue to his cheek in sheer annoyance. “She caught you in the act. What are you going to explain? How your tongue accidentally found its way into Angelina’s mouth?”

George takes a step forward, challenging his brother. “Shut the fuck up, would you?” he bellows, anger in his eyes as Fred doesn’t back down, unafraid of George. You watch as the scene unfolds in front of you, still sniffling. “All of a sudden you’re interested in my girlfriend? You trying to scoop her up while she’s vulnerable?” he pushes Fred’s chest.

“Scoop her up?” he pushes back. “Are you mental? And if she hadn’t made it clear already, I’ll do it for you. Ex-girlfriend. She’s your ex-girlfriend,” Fred corrects his brother. “Not to mention, (Y/N) has always been my friend, even before you started dating. I’m not trying to scoop her up, George, we’re friends! I will always protect her! Especially when you fail to do so,” he spits at George. 

That’s what sends George over the edge. With a yell, he sends a gruesome punch to Fred’s jaw who nearly falls over from the blow. “Godric, George, stop!” you yell out at he goes for Fred again, but Fred sends a punch to his twin brother’s nose as George stumbles back, blood trickling down from his nose. 

People start to notice that the twins are now in a full on fight, grabbing and swinging at each other as they yell profanities at the each other. A crowd starts to trickle in, cheering on either side of the boys as you watch in horror.

“Fucking hell, get off of each other!” you scream as you grab Fred’s arm as he holds it up to send another punch to his brother’s nose. “Knock it off, you fucking dickheads!” you throw yourself in front of Fred as George and Fred catch their breaths, chests heaving. “Can we not make this a public affair?” you scream again, gesturing to the small crowd that has formed to witness the Weasley twins having it out at each other. “We can talk about this in private,” you say in a hushed angry tone to George. You turn to Fred and take a look at his face, no blood, but definitely lots of bruises and a split lip. “Episkey,” you wave your wand at his face, sealing his broken lip as well as managing to take away some of the swelling of his eyes. 

Fred hisses as his face stings as it heals. “You don’t need to talk to him, (Y/N). He doesn’t deserve to hear what you have to say,” he sneers at George who takes another challenging step at Fred.

You hold Fred back again and hold a warning finger to George. “Don’t you dare. You’ve already hurt enough people today,” you spit at him who immediately retaliates. You speak to Fred with a soft, calm smile. “I’ll be okay. I can handle him, Freddie,” you insist as Fred gives you sad smile.

Slowly looking away from Fred, your eyes land on George as your heart breaks at the sight of him. He wiped his bloody nose on his shirt sleeve as he glared at his brother, eyes eventually trailing to you as his glare fades into a guilty look. The brown eyes that you loved so much suddenly made you feel cold and alone as you inhaled a shaky breath. George tries to offer you his hand to walk somewhere more private to discuss things, but you just scoff and walk past him, letting him follow you. The audacity, you thought to yourself.

The two of you walk into an empty classroom as you close the door behind you and leaning against it, arms folded in front of you as you glare at George. You could feel yourself wanting to cry again, but you refused to let him see you cry again. He wasn’t worth your tears. Instead, you let rage course through your body instead of sadness. 

George gulps before speaking. “I never wanted this to happen...” he trails off.

“No, you never wanted to get caught,” you correct him as he lets out a disgruntled sigh. “I never thought you would ever do this to me, George. Nevertheless, do it to me with my best friend,” you shake your head. “I thought that if you didn’t love me anymore, you would at least have the decency to tell me,” you throw your hands up in defeat. George remains dead silent. “But somehow, you thought this was a better option.” He quickly replies, “It just happened, (Y/N)!” You furrow your eyebrows. “We were in the common room one night, studying for an exam and we started talking and then for some reason, one thing lead to another, and we kissed,” he admits as your heart breaks. So they had kissed before the time Patricia caught them in the library. This wasn’t a one time mistake he made. George had repeatedly kissed Angelina. Godric knows what else they did. “It was a huge mistake, (Y/N), and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You mean so much to me,” he tries to rationalize with you, begging at this point.

You just scoff and say, “A huge mistake that you did again and again and again. If I hadn’t caught you in the act, you would have kept seeing her, wouldn’t you?” George just shakes his head and gulps, taking a step forward. “Don’t lie to me, George...not again,” your voice cracks, but you refuse to cry. “Instead of telling me how you really felt, you kept telling me you loved me.”

George takes your hands in his and speaks, “I have always loved you, (Y/N). None of that was ever a lie.” Your eyes search his eyes, searching for a truth. Something to tell you why you should stay with him. But instead, you found nothing. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he whispers, tears filling his eyes as he truly feels sorry when he understands what he losing. “We’re just not who we used to be, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders, trying to shift the blame on both of you.

Pulling away from his hands, you spit back, “No, you’re not who you used to be.” You shake your head. “In fact, I don’t know who you’ve become. But you’re not the George I fell in love with,” you take a deep breath in as George’s heart breaks. What George did really ripped your heart out of your chest, but this is was ripped it into a thousand pieces. Leaving him. “Goodbye, Georgie.”

George shakes his head, “(Y/N), please don’t.”

But you were already gone.

-------------------

Being without George for the first weeks of the breakup were difficult. You missed his touch, his voice, his eyes, his laugh, his smile; you missed it all. Even though what he did rung your heart out, there was a part of you that missed him more than words could say. 

People took notice immediately about how you didn’t sit next to George during meals in the Great Hall or converse to Angelina in between classes. This all earned you sorry glances in your direction as people found out what happened. It was embarrassing, having everyone know exactly what went down between you and George and Angelina.

You tried to distract yourself with other friends and schoolwork and other hobbies to keep yourself from thinking about George. But somehow, you always thought of him and how he so harshly betrayed you. No matter what you were doing, something had made you think of him. It came down to the point that you had to distance yourself from Fred, your closest friend after Angelina, because just the look of him made you think of George. That fact that your best friend had to be the identical twin of your cheating ex-boyfriend was enough to drive you mad. 

But after a few weeks of healing and distancing yourself from everything that reminded you of George, you finally decided you couldn’t let him prevent you from seeing Fred. Fred was not only George’s brother, but your friend and you were’t going to let that stop you. When you had seen him for the first time since you and George broke up, tears welled in your eyes, you missed him so much. Fred gave you the tightest hug and profusely apologized for his brother’s behavior. Fred was insistent on helping you in every way possible to move on from George; he wanted you to know that no matter what he would be there for you, no matter if it was his twin who had done the damage or not.

Fred along with the help of your other friends helped you get over George and move on. They helped you regain your confidence and have fun and you couldn’t be more grateful. Soon enough, George was the last thing on your mind. His presence in a room no longer made you sad, the mention of his name didn’t make your heart stop, and the sight of him didn’t make you miss him. You were over George Weasley; something you never thought you would be able to say.

Even though you were over George, you didn’t think that you would date someone else after four months after your break up. But funnily enough, you were. The relationship that had blossomed between you and Roger Davies started as something very innocent. You had always been friendly with Roger, but not very close. So when you had initially started studying in the library, you didn’t think it would lead to hanging out in the courtyard, to your first date to Hogsmeade, until your first kiss on the moving staircase. 

Roger was so refreshing. He was gentle and kind and shy, but he was affectionate and loved showing you how much he truly cared for you. He would be in the hallways with his friends and spot you across the way before running over to place a quick kiss on your cheek before running back to his friends. Or he would see you studying in the library alone and then immediately find the chair next to you to keep you company. It was the little things he did that made you feel so loved.

When word got to George that you and Roger started dating, he was didn’t take the news well. Unlike you, after the breakup, George wallowed in his guilt and couldn’t stop thinking about how foolish and careless he was. He cursed himself for letting he and Angelina share that kiss on that late night in the common room. He hated the fact that he let himself come back for more when he had someone like you in his fingertips. Someone who loved him fiercely and would do anything to prove their love. When Fred told him the news about you and Roger, George sat there with sad eyes and dryly gulped. “Why him?” he spoke. He was sad, angry, disappointed, jealous at the fact that Roger had just scooped you up. 

“She found someone who she cares for and who does the same,” Fred tells his twin. “You should be happy she found someone like that after how the relationship ended with you two,” he tells him as George just closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I know you miss her, George, but it’s over. You messed up.”

George just looked at his brother with the most pained look on his face. George knowing that he hurt you in a way unimaginable sat with him like a rock in his stomach. “It was the worst thing I ever did, Fred. I fucked up big time and I can’t fix it. I really can’t fix it this time,” he spoke, pools welling up in his eyes as Fred gave his brother a sympathetic gaze. “I really messed up, Fred.”

---------------

Winter break rolled around and it would be your first holiday with Roger, but the first holiday without the Weasleys. The thought made your stomach churn. The Weasley family took you in as their own the moment they saw you. Molly and Arthur felt like a second set of parents and you were so grateful that you always had a home with them. You sadly smiled at the memories of the Burrow and the holiday season. You had spent the past four Christmases with the Weasleys and each year just got better and better. You had thought your seventh year would be the best yet, but you had to cast that thought away before you grew sadder.

Shaking away the thoughts of the Burrow, you smiled at the thought of spending the holiday with Roger and his family. You were more than nervous to meet his parents and his older brother, but Roger made it abundantly clear that his family was thrilled to meet you. “I’ve talked to my mom about you before and she is so excited to meet you. She says you sound lovely,” Roger kissed your forehead as you danced nervously around your dormitory room. 

You gave him a nervous smile. “I just really want them to like me,” you shake your hands nervously as he takes your hands in his, laugh gently at your nerves. “I’m serious, Roger. I love you and I want your parents to know how much I care for you,” you stand in between his legs as he sits on your bed.

Roger smiles and kisses your nose gently. “They’ll love you because they know how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Let’s be honest, though, what’s not to love about you?” he pokes at your sides as you giggle.

And he wasn’t wrong. Roger’s family was so warm and welcoming to you. Practically the moment his mother spoke to you, you saw how kind and lovely she was and how the whole family took you in instantly. You couldn’t be more grateful to have a boyfriend who had a family that was kind and welcoming like the Weasleys. 

On the first night at Roger’s home, you laid in bed next to Roger as you played with the hem of his jumper. “My family bloody loves you,” he whispered to you with the largest smile on his face. You smiled wide and pecked his cheek. “I’m serious. You even impressed Chester and that’s not an easy feat,” he refers to his older brother. 

You beam, “Your family is wonderful. Truly. I love them already and it’s just the first night.”

“It’s only going to get better from here,” Roger wiggles his brows as you giggle before he presses his lips to yours.

When the Weasley students arrived home from Hogwarts, they were all tightly embraced by Molly Weasley who peppered each of her kids’ faces with kisses, making them all lovingly groan. “Ah! Harry, there you are,” Molly beamed as she kisses the top of Harry’s head. “Good to have you back home again, my dear,” she spoke before doing the same to Hermione’s head and giving her a tight squeeze. Molly looked around the living room, searching for something or rather someone. “Where’s (Y/N)? Georgie, did you leave her at Hogwarts as a mean prank?” she teased before noticing her son’s hollow face and everyone tense up as Molly spoke of your name like it was You Know Who. “What happened, Georgie?” she looks at her son with a stern look in her face. She knew something was very wrong and she had a bad feeling about it.

George gulps before saying, “(Y/N) and I broke up, Mum.”

Molly’s face drops with sadness before looking at Arthur whose face resembles Molly’s. “Really? Oh my dear, I’m so sorry, Georgie. (Y/N) and you seemed so happy. How did it happen?” she implores as George stiffens and Fred sighs and rubs his face.

This is the part that George Weasley was dreading; the reason why you split up. Everyone else in the room was scared for him too, Merlin’s sake. With a deep breath, George said, “Um,” and swallowed hard. “I wasn’t a good boyfriend, Mum. I betrayed her trust.”

And that’s when Molly’s face dropped into a serious expression. Molly always taught her children how to care for others and always be loyal to the ones who treat you with love. George’s behavior spoke a different story. “George Fabien Weasley,” she shook her head. “I thought you knew better,” her heart broke for you and it hurt her to know that one of her own boys did that to you. “Your father and I taught you better than that,” she told him with a disapproving look on her face.

It was all she needed to say in order to make George feel more disappointed in himself than ever. He sadly looked to Fred who gave him a sad smile. Losing you was the worst thing he’s ever done. He not only lost you, but he made his parents feel disappointed in him. You meant so much George and he threw that all away for a silly fling that he could never take back. George nervously bit down on his lip before huffing his way up the stairs, needing to be alone with his thoughts for a while. 

The Weasley siblings dispersed throughout the Burrow as they all felt the strange shift in the energy of the house. The house was feeling the weight of your absence. When everyone was in the Burrow, the home was full of life. But with you gone, it was like one piece of the puzzle was missing and wouldn’t be found. 

As George opened the door to he and Fred’s room, the memories of previous holidays flood George’s mind. The two of you laying on his bed, him on his back, you on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair. He would steal kisses from you every now and then and poke at your sides, making you giggle wildly. George would hold you close in his arms and whisper how happy he was that you were with him. You would pepper his face in kisses, telling him how much you adored him in between pecks.

The memory made him smile as he entered the room, the more he walked in, the more memories resurfaces. He thought of the time you two watched the sunset out of his window, or the time you two laid on your back on his floor and reread a muggle book of yours, or the time he told you he loved you for the first time in the middle of the room on Christmas Eve all those years ago. 

“You alright, mate?” Fred’s voice interrupts George’s thoughts. Fred gives is brother a sad look. “I know it must be hard this time of year, George,” he puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “But you’ll be alright. And so will she.” George shakes his head sadly. “Listen, George, even though what you did was still very wrong, you’re my brother and I love you. I’m here for you.”

George gives his brother a sad smile and shakes his head as if to say thank you. He looks Fred in the eyes and just shakes his head, “I want the best for her, Freddie. I want to be the best for her.” George has tears in his eyes and chokes lightly on his words.

Fred’s heart hurts for his brother. George rarely cried in front of Fred, he usually liked to be alone if he was going to cry. He didn’t like Fred seeing him upset. But this was too much for George to hide. Fred holds his brother’s arms and speaks, “I know, George. I know. But right now, what’s best for her is space. You both need to be away from each other. That’s what’s best for both of you.”

That made George realize that his brother was very right. As much as he hated to believe that you two couldn’t be together, George knew it was true. And he would have to be okay with that.  

[bratkook]

one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit. 

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face. 

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured. 

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs. 

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face. 

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place. 

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea. 

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare. 

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain. 

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder. 

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this. 

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot. 

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.  

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on. 

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you. 

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him. 

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.” 

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry. 

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression. 

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more. 

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind. 

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face. 

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon. 

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city. 

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him. 

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture. 

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again. 

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work. 

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation. 

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again. 

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”

[lettrespromises]

la querelle des coeurs. - kuroo, atsumu, daichi.

@luveranime​ sent a letter : ❝ Me again lmao 😂 could you do one where kuroo, atsumu and daichi’s s/o has a ex best friend and they try to take their bf away from their s/o but then their s/o like angrily lashes out? Then like a cute fluffy ending :) ❞

author’s letter : ❝ aaaaa, it’s always pleasure to see you in my inbox!! thank you so much for trusting me with all your prompts, it means the world. ooooh, i love myself some angst to fluff especially with kuroo. i hope you’ll enjoy your promised letter!

sealed with a kiss. sincerely yours, nikki. ❞

genre : kinda fluff, kinda angst. warnings : cursing, toxic friendship.

Now, now, now, Kuroo like the gorgeous scorpio he is has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to lies, basically, you could consider him as a human lie detector. This talent of his extends to being able to discern people’s true nature- given that he is someone who doesn’t trust people easily, he’s even more careful around people he doesn’t deem as trustworthy.

Truth be told, he doesn’t come as a surprise to him when you tell him that you had a succession of arguments with your best friend, to the point where you felt obligated to cut ties with them. 

You can tell from miles away that the sentence “I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so, kitten.” is burning the tip of his tongue, begging him to be set free so he could rub his pseudo sixth sense in your face.

From now on, Kuroo morphs into ‘super protective mode’, he just wants to protect you from any emotional harm, he knows how vicious your former best friend is, after all, he always knew.

He will walk with you everywhere, cradle you into his embrace if you feel the need to shed a couple of tears- he picks up the shattered pieces of your broken self and glues them one by one and seals them with a kiss or a heartfelt compliment.

After several days, Kuroo’s efforts and dedication to make you feel better finally sets in. Your introspection sunk in and you feel the aftereffects bloom- you feel fearless, powerful, and you came to agree with yourself on stating that you are indeed better off alone.

The plot twists in the hallways of your school- your arm is wrapped around Kuroo’s, just the way you like it. His orbs never leave you frame and anyone could tell how the gleam in his eyes reflect his love and adoration for you. 

Needless to say, his favorite time of the day was when he could have lunch with you and listen to your ramblings while observing your divine traits. However, being academically smart doesn’t prevent him from being a airhead at times : “Kitten, I totally forgot to grab myself something to drink. Will you wait for me at our spot? I’ll be quick.” “You already know where to find me then, Tetsu.”

And with that, he leaves you in the middle of the hall (but not before planting a peck on your forehead.) On his way to the vending machine, he sees none other than your former best-friend, body leaning onto said vending machine, as if they were waiting for him to come out after witnessing your discussion.

The plain expression plastered upon Kuroo’s facial expression speaks louder than a thousand words revolving around the lexical field of anger. Nonetheless, he tells himself that if he ignores them, then there will be no harm done, unless...

“Hey there, Kuroo. I knew you’d miss me! Don’t worry, baby, I missed you just as much.”

The person you once called your best friend orientates their body in a strategic way so they’re closer to Kuroo, their whole body facing him. Of course, he didn’t miss the poor attempts to get him to pay attention to them. Their whole body language screamed ‘acknowledge me.’

Kuroo remained stoic and pushed the coins inside the vending machine instead. This lack of attention only emphasized their anger and in return, their level of patience diminished gradually. But they had another ace hidden in their sleeve, and this time, attitude matched their actions- your former best friend grabbed the hem of Kuroo’s collar while their other hand was planted at the back of his neck to force him to look on what they deemed as the only important person here.

“Kuroo, baby, I’m so glad you came to see me, because let’s face it : you’re only here because you know you’d see me here. Have you finally realized that Y/N was not good enough for you? You want a real significant other, don’t you?”

If hearing the sound of their voice was disgusting enough, imagine how filthy Kuroo felt when he sensed a foreign body throw themselves on him- his skin was burning under the poisoning touch of your former best friend. 

Now, now. The ‘you’ topic was quite the sensitive one to Kuroo, given that he would and could put anyone in their place if he happened to hear a ill word about you. “I’m going to say this once : don’t play a game you can’t win so don’t say another thing about Y/N.” 

Oh, but would this stop them? Absolutely not. Their hand travelled from the back of their neck to the muscular reliefs on his chest, an area only you had the luxury you to touch and worship. “Don’t be like that, Kuroo. I know I can touch you, love you and at least I won’t fake it like Y/N does.” they concluded their sentence with a wink sent his way and Kuroo could already feel the taste of vomit invading his tastebud. 

In one sharp motion, he grabbed their wrist and yanked himself free of their intoxicating clutch. Just his luck, he thought, while your former best friend cursed silently under their breath as they saw you arrive.

“Tetsu, are you okay? What’s taking you so long?”

Oh and here it was, the pure grin which radiated nothing but pure mischief- your presence signed the end and what a beautiful ending it was for him. “Maybe you should ask them, kitten. They were rambling about how I should date them instead of you. Can you believe that bullshit?”

Your eyes darted onto a familiar frame, but just by glancing at them, you felt all the inner rage overwhelm you, including all the pain you had to go through. It was like facing your own nightmare, but you’ve never been alone to fight your battles- Kuroo has always been there by your side.

“You said what now?”

Your stare emanated nothing but pure and intense rage, your whole body language testified of your inner envy to make them choke on their own words.

“I said-...”

“If you think for a single second I’m going to let you talk, you’re dead wrong. You’ve been feeding me enough lies during all this time we were ‘friends’, and now, you’re throwing yourself on my man? You really have nothing for you, do you now? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go grab lunch with my boyfriend. I’m not sure you’ve ever heard of him but his name is Kuroo Testurou, you know, the man you’ll never get?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but to let a snicker break free from his lips, this scene was wonderful to watch. An immense wave of pride washed over him, and it struck him again, he realized for the umpteenth time how lucky he was to share his life with you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you close to his side and delivered a peck full of love upon the flesh of your cheek. “I didn’t know you had all of this hidden in you, kitten. Not gonna lie, it’s kinda hot.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes and punched his arm as his words connected with your eardrums, “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Don’t get it twisted, kitten, I’m lucky one here.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

It’s safe to say that Atsumu does have a reputation that follows him around, he his the local heartthrob of his school and he secretly takes pride in that. But nothing fills his heart with pride more than being able to call you his.

Being Atsumu’s girlfriend, you are indirectly exposed to threats, insults and other acerbic remarks coming from his fangirls. Sometimes these attacks are direct like dirty talks behind your back when you’re holding his hand in the middle of the halls, and other times, it’s more subtle and the perfect example of that is how the person you used to call your best friend took advantage of your relationship status to get closer to Atsumu.

They made it clear and had no shame hiding behind their shameful shenanigans, “Did you really think I was talking to you for your personality? Get real, Y/N, I don’t care about you. I only care about your man.”

These subtle shenanigans hurt the most because they were the most vicious and purposefully hurtful, and the worst part was that they had somehow managed to become friends with Atsumu. Emphasis on the word ‘somehow.’

As per usual after school, both you and Atsumu could be found at the gym, and oh boy, did he love being able to see you everyday- not only at school but also at the gym as you were the manager of the volleyball team.

However, this time, you had quite the surprise when you entered the gym. Kita had asked all the players to gather up as he explained them the new change amongst the team : “Considering that the nationals are around the corner, the coach and I stated that it was necessary for us to hire a new manager in order for Y/N not to feel overwhelmed. Please welcome your new manager and take good care of them.” 

As his words echoed in the gymnasium, you felt your stomach sink to your heels, your mouth was set agape under the overwhelming feeling of pure disgust. Not them, out of all people. Hell, even Atsumu’s worst fangirl sounded like a better idea right now.

Of course you couldn’t blame Kita for choosing your former best friend as the new manager, but the glance Atsumu threw your way testified of how much he knew this situation was going to eat you up alive. 

After the captain dismissed everyone, Atsumu wasted no time and ran up to you, he felt the need to reassure you and make you feel at ease despite the venomous presence of your former best friend.

“Cheer up, baby, ya’ know I’m here, right? This pig isn’t gonna’ get a piece of me. Now, be a doll and gimme’ a kiss.” 

Classic Atsumu right here, but who were you to deny such a sweet request? So you did as told, and planted a kiss on his plump lips. And that’s when you could pinpoint the precise moment when your former best friend had fallen right into Atsumu’s trap.

“As your new manager, I have to say that it’s not very professional to kiss your significant other on the court. But, I mean, what else did I expect coming from Y/N?” 

Your boyfriend’s arm was protectively wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer. The root of each of his action was to protect you from the incoherent and toxic words dropping from their lips. But deep down, he knew better than to mess with you, especially when the whole team was looking at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Did you mean do this?”

There you went again, planting yet another kiss upon Atsumu’s lips who couldn’t help but grin at the taunting nature of your actions. Once you broke the kiss, you could feel the hot breaths of your boyfriend crashing upon your skin “That’s my girl.”

Your former best friend looked around in despair, her eyes scanned the room to seek for help, to back up her actions. Osamu let a small laugh fall free from his lips, Suna rolled his eyes so hard you thought they were going to get stuck at the back of his head, and Kita, out of all people, let out a desperate sigh. “As the captain of the team, I must inform you that it is my duty to let you know that you cannot dictate your way here, and you cannot display a clear lack of respect to Y/N.”

This time, it was their time to be dumbfounded and left in the middle of the gymnasium with their mouth set agape in pure surprise. The silence, although it was broken by a few playful laughs, was agonizing to them. 

“C’mon, new manager, tell ‘em why ya’ chose to come here.” Atsumu taunted, the smirk plastered upon his face as wide as ever, but he only found silence as an answer.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell the rest of the team? Alright then. Maybe you should tell them how you only joined our team to flirt with Atsumu knowing very well that we’re dating, what kind of person that makes you, mh?” Each word pronounced was embedded with venom of your own, and deep down, exposing the true nature of your former best friend brought some sense of satisfaction. And thus you began reading out loud each text they had sent you, justifying their one-sided reason to join the team, only to flirt with Atsumu.

“Yeah, ya’ ain’t slick! Sorry to break it to ya’ but I ain’t into snakes.” Atsumu continued, sticking his tongue out before the still dumbfounded personification of a snake.

Pure embarrassment consumed them, the more they were staying amongst the deafening silence of their sour loss, the more they felt vulnerable and the more they realized they lost their own game. The stares of the whole team became agonizing, so agonizing that they felt obligated to leave the gym, head hung low in defeat.

“Byeee! Ya’ won’t be missed!” Your boyfriend concluded his sentence by imitating the hissing sounds of snakes, and you wondered why you were dating a man-child. Nonetheless, knowing very well he couldn’t get his hands off of you and craved for a physical touch at all times, he pressed his lips against yours once more. “I ain’t into snakes but ya’ could s-s-s-s-slide your way into my heart, baby.” and with that, Osamu hit the back of his twin’s head with a volleyball.

Maybe he deserved that.

Being the unofficial dad of the Karasuno volleyball team came with its perks, one of them was the ability to be able to discern if the people you were hanging with genuinely cared about you or not, you liked to joke around and call this his “secret dad weapon.”

Much like Kuroo, he was not one bit surprised when you told him that you had to put your friendship to an end with your former best friend. Of course, he was not angry, but in typical dad fashion, he adorned the oh so famous disappointed dad expression on his facial structure.

He told you not to overthink it, and to focus on the other friendly presences in your life such as the volleyball team or Kiyoko and Yachi, mainly because he knew he could trust them with his eyes closed, but also because he knew he would be able to make them pay if they were to hurt you.

When you started dating Daichi, you grew the habit to join him outside the gymnasium after his training, a bottle of water in your hand in case he overworked himself, which he always did. 

This time, and much to your surprise, you found a note near the doorframe leading to the gymnasium. And if you were careful enough, the slight details and the precise calligraphy hinted that said note was in fact a love note. 

You found it rather amusing at first, perhaps it was a letter dedicated to Kiyoko because this woman was the living and breathing proof that God was indeed a woman. 

But everyday, you would find yet another letter, still carefully written and decorated leaning against the doorframe. This time, however, a calligraphic ‘D.S’ framed the front of the letter. You couldn’t help but let your stare roam over the fine print of calligraphy over and over again. 

As the saying goes ‘curiosity killed the cat’, and you were no exception to that common phrase. You meticulously took the letter and unfolded it- it was so beautifully written, the details were placed strategically. It was a proof of pure love in the form of a letter. 

Then, you began reading it :  “Dear Daichi,  Words cannot do justice of how much I love you. Everything about you fascinates me- from the way you spike the ball so roughly to the small smile on your face after scoring a point. If only I could tell you how much you mean to me. Don’t worry, Y/N won’t know a thing. Come to the gymnasium tomorrow at 5 if you wish, until then, accept all my love.”

You read the letter once, then twice, then an umpteenth time until the words were embedded in your brain. You thought it was just a prank, after all, Nishinoya and Tanaka were quite the pranksters amongst the team, but the handwriting was so delicate, too delicate to be theirs. 

You could feel salty pearls coming at the brim of your eyes until they fell onto the surface of the paper, resulting in the texture of the letter now being bloated under the wetness of your tears. 

You kept your discovery under silence, you trusted your boyfriend of course, but given the additional stress brought by the nationals, you refused to distract him from his goal.

But here you were, sharply there in front of the gym at five as indicated on the letter. However, Daichi hadn’t shown up like the anonymous lover requested, he was already stretching anyway. 

Knots started to form in your stomach as you wondered who the hell had the idea to write this love letter to him, after all, it’s not as if your relationship with Daichi was kept as a secret. 

And at 5:01 precisely, your orbs felt on the figure of your former best friend who had the most victorious grin plastered upon their face. Not only these letters were meant to be read by Daichi, but by you too, their main goal was to hurt you where it stung the most.

“What the hell are you doing here? Where you the one who wrote these letters?” You spat, waving the letters between your thumb and forefinger. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I know you love to make everything about yourself but I was expecting Daichi, not you.” Although they said they were sorry, there was not one ounce of genuine compassion in their voice.

Anger got the best of you resulting in the sudden apparition of veins on your neck as the volume of your voice only increased : “Who the fuck do you think you are? Are you that desperate? If you want a reply to your letter : Daichi doesn’t even know who you are.”

Your emotions controlled each one of your actions, including the severe tone of your voice. The ruckus made its way inside the walls of the gymnasium, until Daichi and Sugawara opened the door in order to find an answer as their interrogation : what was happening outside? 

Daichi’s eyes widened when he saw your frame shaking from anger, it was so unlike you, you matched him in a way because you were always so calm and collected. His mind raced as he wondered what was the cause of this sudden switch of behavior. 

He found the answer to his question pretty rapidly as his eyes darted towards your former best friend who was still wearing that victorious grin on their facial structure. “Y/N, love, what’s going on?” he asked as his hands were draped over your shoulders, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh, hey, Daichi! Have you read the letters I left for you? I bet Y/N never wrote this kind of letters for you.” It took inhuman strength for Daichi to ignore their taunt, instead, Sugawara sent a death glare their way : “Just leave, you have no business being here.”

Sugawara’s attempt at making them leave eventually succeeded after Coach Ukai’s sudden appearance before barking on your former best friend to “get the hell out of here” and “not disturb training anymore.”

Eventually, you were left alone with Daichi, your lungs felt constricted and you struggled to breathe. The aftermath of your outburst of anger made tears run down your cheeks as you sought for comfort inside of Daichi’s loving embrace. 

The pad of his thumb brushed your tears away, planting a series of kisses upon the surface of your forehead as a silent way to tell you that he was here and he was not going to let you go.

“Listen, love, I don’t know what happened and we will talk about it whenever you feel ready. But promise me one thing, never doubt of my love for you. Could you do that for me, Y/N?”

You simply nodded against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat kept the haunting thoughts in your head at bay. “I love you so much, Y/N, so, so much.” he whispered, concluding his sentence with a kiss left on your lips.

If only he knew how much you loved him. 

[summonerscenarios]

May I have a comfort fic for Diasuke post chapter 10?

ALL ABOARD THE DAISUKE PAIN TRAIN- a healthy dose of angst amongst the fluff and smut lmao. I do hope that this is okay hun I’m still getting the hang of writing angsty stuff~

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The darkness of the night seeps into every hallway and room in the building, and the silence that comes along with it leaves you uneasy as you traverse it’s empty corridors. Guided only by the minimal light provided by your phone, you try to find solace in the moment that you have alone.

You should have been in bed right now - you’re exhausted both mentally and physically and more than ready for some rest, but sleep doesn’t come easily. Just the thought of tossing and turning in your bed for hours until you finally crash makes your very skin crawl; so you turn to wandering outside of your quarters, more than willing to choose the darkened halls over being left in your room with your thoughts.

Scanning your light over the rooms as you pass, you try to make out where you are on the floor. Most of the rooms are bedrooms, where you’re sure all your friends are inside, equally as restless as you are in light of everything that’s happened. You can’t blame them - the recent events are weighing heavy on everyone’s mind, that much you’re sure of, and being in an unfamiliar place away from their dorms and schools does little to ease the worries. If anything it serves as a reminder to how serious things are getting - like the reality of something bigger than all of you is bearing down, and you honestly have any idea of how long things will last before everything is crushed beneath its weight-

You shake away the thought with a grimace as soon as it crosses your mind. Thinking about it isn’t going to make it any easier, so you opt to focus on the room numbers as you pass, wracking your brain to remember who’s behind each door as you walk. You know where the Summoners are - Ryota had insisted on them all bunking in the same room, phrasing it as a sleepover but you have a sneaking suspicion that it’s more to reassure the boy that they’re all safe and okay. Moritaka and you were the only two who’d declined the offer, and you’re sure that the therian is on one of the higher floors, perhaps doing rounds across the building to make sure that it’s truly safe to spend the night in. The others however had dispersed before you’d had the chance to see where they were all going, so you have no idea who’s decided to pick a room for the night and who’s moved on to somewhere else. 

That thought makes you uneasy, so you find yourself conscious of the things that you can see and hear as you shuffle through the hallway. It’s quiet, but not eerily so, and yet you still find yourself on edge while you wander…

You find out why that is when you finally hear something, and the sound immediately makes you freeze. It’s a voice, you know that much, but you can’t make anything out besides that; it’s coming from further down the hall, and you find yourself dragging your feet as you approach, the tension building up in your shoulders as you try to gauge where it’s coming from. Eventually, you come to a slow stop at one of the bedrooms, and as you flash your camera light over the door you hear that same noise again, clearer, but still too muffled to make anything out.

You reach out for the doorknob, then pause, fingers hovering just above the handle as you continue to listen. Perhaps it's the apprehension that’s making you pause, or the worry about what you’ll find on the other side - you don’t know either way - but when a moment passes and nothing happens you take a deep breath, steel yourself, and grab for the handle.

The door opens easily, and you’re surprised to find that it isn’t locked, but in the darkness of the room the only thing you can make out amongst the shadows is something shifting by the bunk propped up in the far corner. Your phone light is dim as you bring it up but it does the job, illuminating the figure hunched over at the edge of the bed and you recognize who it is right away. 

Daisuke looks defeated, perched on the end of his bed and facing away from you; he’s clutching something in his hands and you realize it’s his mask as he twists it up in his hands tight enough that you can see his knuckles turning white. The moment your light shines over him, Daisuke jumps, head snapping up to look over at you, and as you catch sight of his face you realize what you’d heard from the other side of the door. He’s been crying, tears still visible in the corners of his eyes as he looks up at you and you feel your chest tighten when you notice the dried tear streaks marring the skin of his cheeks.

As soon as he recognizes you, Daisuke immediately spins around to face away from you, fumbling with shaking fingers to put his mask back on like you haven’t already seen his face. His voice trembles and there’s a noticeable hoarseness as he tries to speak loud enough for you to hear.

“A-Ah, my soul brother! I-I didn’t see you there! Tell me, di-d something h-happen-?”

A hand on his shoulder makes Daisuke freeze. He tilts his head just enough to look over his shoulder, mask only pulled halfway over one side of his face as he gives you a wide, doe-eyed stare - for a split second he looks absolutely terrified, as though scared to even look back at you, but you recognize the emotions that you see behind them all too well.

Pain; he’s hurting. You don’t say anything, you don’t need to - instead, you give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, expression soft as you so in the hope that your actions reflect what you want him to know.

You’re here for him - he’s not alone.

Daisuke flinches beneath your touch, and you watch him shudder for a beat before his expression finally breaks from that smile he’s trying so hard to force. His lip trembles, choking on unspoken words, and you catch more tears welling up in his eyes before he finally twists around to face you; and in the next moment he’s got his hands wrapped up in your shirt, tugging you close as he presses his face to your shoulder and lets out a gut wrenching sob.

The sounds twists something within your chest and you don’t hesitate to bring your arms to wrap around him, pulling him into your side as you start rubbing slow circles against his back, hoping that even such a small action helps him. You aren’t sure what to say, or where to even begin, but you already know too well what’s plaguing him. With war breaking out all around on top of an onslaught of memories from previous loops there’s enough pressure for anyone to buckle; you can’t even imagine what he saw, as with everything going on you’ve never had the chance to bring it up with him. But seeing Daisuke breaking down in your arms now, you feel guilty for not confronting him sooner - how long has he been dealing with this all on his own?

“Don’t worry, I’m right here. It’s okay.” your voice is soothing and as soft as you can make it, rubbing his back gently. 

In response, Daisuke only whimpers, burying his face further against your shoulder as he chokes out his words. 

“How can I-w-when they all...when I...when I k...nngh!”

Daisuke’s words are cut off by another broken sob, sniffling pitifully as he fights back his tears to keep speaking. “Why did I do it? How could I do that to-to my friends?”

He’s almost begging for answers that he knows he can’t get, pulling his head away from your shoulder as he pleads with himself and looks up at you, eyes red and puffy from crying. When a beat passes with no answer he keeps going, snivelling as he weeps.

“To Gunzo, a-and Nomad, and-” you watch his entire body tense and shake, his voice reduced to a croaky whisper as he adds “And...You too - It happened to you too...”

As though realizing the gravity of his words, Daisuke immediately makes a move to rear back, pulling away from you with a mounting fear as though just touching you is going to cause it to happen all over again. However before you can pull away you take him by the shoulders and stop him in his tracks, settling him with a serious expression.

“Daisuke.” 

At the sound of his real name he blanks, and you watch the surprise flash across his face. “W-What did you-?”

“Daisuke.” Your voice is firmer this time, and like it’s a command he freezes up, growing quiet when you continue to talk.

“I can’t begin to imagine what remembering those past loops was like - all of the hurt that you’ve suffered through.” Your hands squeeze his shoulders as you straighten up and square him with a determined look, words nothing but honest as you declare them aloud. 

“But that’s not you. Not now. The things that happened back then don’t define the person that you are this time around - the only Daisuke that exists is the one sitting in front of me now, and I’m so, so proud of how far you’ve come.”

You can see the doubt on his face. His squirms awkwardly beneath the intensity of your gaze and avoids eye contact, trying to look everywhere but at you, but you aren’t deterred in the slightest, if anything it spurs you on.

“And things are different this time - we’re all working together, right?  It’s not going to be easy, but we're all gonna do it together. That’s what heroes do, yeah?”

Daisuke finds himself nodding before he can stop himself, glancing at your face from the corner of his eye. When he sees your expression, stern yet earnest, he finds himself unable to look away; upon realizing you’ve caught his attention your face visibly softens into something sympathetic, almost understanding.

“Don’t give up on yourself yet Daisuke.” you mutter, voice taking a tender tone as you squeeze his shoulders again. “We’re gonna help our friends and save everyone. Together.”

That last word does him in. Hesitantly, Daisuke brings a hand up to cover one of the hands that’s clutching his shoulder; when you don’t immediately pull away from him, he squeezes it gently and cracks a smile. It’s small, and cut short when he bites his lip to will away the tears that are already starting to re-emerge in the corner of his eyes, but it has relief swelling up in your chest at the sight.

“Y-yeah, together…” he repeats your words, and you sincerely hope that he believes them as he squeezes your hand again and finally fully turns to face you again.

You flash him an encouraging smile when he turns, and after a moment you move your hands away from his shoulder to cup his cheeks. They’re still wet from tears, but they’re drying quickly beneath your fingers as you smudge the marks they’ve left behind and wipe his tears away.

Daisuke freezes for a moment but then visibly softens, shoulder sagging as his eyes squeeze shut, focusing on the feeling of your hands touching his face. You find yourself smiling at the sight, a bittersweet feeling welling behind it and you lean closer, voice turning to a whisper loud enough for only him to hear.

“You’re more than your past. And I can’t wait to see the trails you’ll blaze in your future.”

You’re not naive enough to believe that words are enough to ward these thoughts away, but for now, for tonight, it’s enough to ease his fears. And in the darkness of his room you continue to comfort the wrestler, willing to stay right by his side for as long as he needs as he presses his face to your hands with another choked whimper.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 20.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

DOUBLE UPDATE FOR A WEEK Y’ALL! MWAH MWAH! PLEASE DO LEAVE A FEEDBACK BEFORE YOU GO---OR MAYBE A REBLOG WILL BE NICE FOR MY EFFORT. Hehehe. Thank y’all!

CHAPTER 20

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Sometimes other people's stories were actually not just a tale of fantasies when the protagonist in the story can't even give you an answer to soothe your insecurity, curiosity and fear over being alone in a dimension you didn't belong in.

Warnings: Soft, touchy and caring Geralt. Insecure and anxious reader. Brooding witcher. Baths with the witcher? Mention of Yennefer. Nudity. Angst. Geralt being too blunt and saying...things. Heh. Don't hate him later please? 😥😘 Mention of Parallel Universe. Doppelganger. Ingrith is just a character I made up, alright? she ain't a part of Yennefer's story in the games, books or show. 

Words: 7.6k

A/N: So, Yeap. I wanted to leave ya with all these angst. Hehehe. COMMENTS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED! MWAH! *waits for comments about people cursing Geralt lmao 😂😂* @casualfansoul​​ You’ve been such a sweetheart! BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEETIE! I hope you’ll love this chapter dedicated to you! Mwah! 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be.(Credits to those who made the GIF’s. Some don’t have their watermarks included. I don’t remember where I’ve saved the others from)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Will you tell me why you are utterly cranky all of a sudden?"

Face to face with the rim of the wooden bath, you've had your knotted brows in a twist. Pout oh-so-long that Geralt knew as he sat behind you, seeking answers for your upset state. He'd gotten you out of your clothes; forcefully must you say. Earning a glare from him as he was peeling your clothes away like he was caring for his sick, pouty child.

No complaints were accepted as he'd given you the idea to care for your wounds in the tub. Downright secretive about wanting to feel the comfort of your nudity grazing against his without any monkey business going on.

The witcher has received constant grumbles and whines of protests as he poured the potent medicine that evaporated through the fresh wounds; painful enough for you to shriek while his arm surrounding your waist tightened with every whimper of your sobbing self; shushing your cries with a soft coo of his endearment on your ear and the feathery nuzzle of his nose against that tiny spot behind your ear while he soothes your pains.

They've fully had injured your back with more than just wallops. He'd knew by the looks of the lesions, the people in the castle has even burnt your skin with metal; scorching metal that has given you scars that would forever haunt oneself. The mere thought tormenting him by their brutal punishments; keeping him all in wonder when he has never received any violent retorts and schemes from you as they did everything in their willpower to strike a hand. Your submission making the witcher glower behind as Geralt caught sight of such deep wounds whilst taking off the gauze; seeing blood seeping out of the healing skin as it was a sign that he really and badly needed to treat your body.

Sobs were emitted while he watched your wounds dry from the potion he'd mix, receiving kisses on the cold, sweating nape of yours every now and then. A gesture that Geralt started doing when you were shrieking in the midst of being poured by such elixir while you felt his breath on your skin. Sweetly kissing through your pain and lowly humming that you were going to be okay and you've been good.

It felt like all the energy downed on you after he'd stop and was done pouring the elixir everywhere around your body. The warm water lining on your chest turned colder when you've slowly leaned your back on Geralt, hissing from the soreness but actually ending up loving the warmth that he could only give while he kept his burly arm around you, your lips still in a pout while staring at the bed from the far corner of the room; basking in the witcher's silence before he asked.

His question gotten you unready for an honest answer as he bluntly shot the query out, planning to resolve the problem with you in the best way that he thought. Being forthright.

"Hmm." you hummed back in displeasure, sounding exactly the same like how he does.

The corner of his lips lifted in a small smirk, his voice vibrating at the back of your head and against his chest. The buzz keeping you calm and at ease rather than being alone in the castle when he haven't arrived yet. Your anxiety giving you such trauma that made you want to sob again.

But, Geralt's distraction to stifle your cries has technically been useful when he felt you sigh again, watching your face from above and behind to see a frown etching to grow. He heedlessly fetched a cup of water with the palm of his hand, delicately pouring your cheek with water as he gruffly quipped.

"That's my line. Not yours, Midget."

Geralt repeated his gestures with you, lightly damping your hair with water as he gently brushed your tousled wet hair with the spaces of his fingers, keeping them light and comforting which made you lean back a lot more, accepting his gentleness after being physically whacked in harsh moments prior before he came around---your purpose of being upset has now been forgotten by his unfamiliar gestures that was tickling your spine with ants racing on your skin because of how his actions was giving you cavity. A sweet tooth.

Just being held so softly felt good in real life---you didn't know how comforting it feels even back in earth, but right now was just the right time to feel how you would yearn for it when Geralt wouldn't be around.

"I told you, before I even realized that you were important to me was after you've made a wish to the Djinn."

Your swollen cheek fell on the skin of his biceps; sighing while you stared out of nowhere and finally held onto his arm surrounding your waist, keeping you still and steady in his arms. His nudity becoming not much of a problem for you now because it was an experience that you could never forget; eventually having the privilege in familiarizing his body just like how a lover does while he did the same to you.

Though, his imperfect beauty could still get you blushing nevertheless as he liked seeing yours no matter how insecure you get---but he seemed to admire your nakedness a lot which he received with a 'men versus boobs' explanation that his kind of gender would always love the idea of breasts no matter how big or small as the same goes for a vagina.

You'd received a pleased hum after that and also some horny witcher begging and trying his best to get your clothes off in his sneaky techniques.

"I know. I'm sorry I was cranky, Geralt."

The white wet-haired witcher pursed his lips, looking down at your face as you've felt his gaze heavy while he calmly spoke.

"It's...alright. But, must it be for Eanraig to see and hear?"

You've given him another sincere, sweet and soft apology. Caressing your thumb over the top of his scarred hand which was under the waters and he'd let you graze over the tiniest marks on his fingers and palms, swaying under the bath water. Breathing calm and collected while he stayed in bath with you; cherishing such moment again that could get his chest feeling the lightest out of all the times he lived in the continent; more freeing to than the one he had with a particular sorceress whom he had also been connected with; via Djinn.

His free hand lifted away from leaning onto the edge of the tub, reaching down to sweep your hair to the side. Clearing the space on your neck and such wounds from the shoulder blades, others being a scar from his potent medicine that he has poured.

"I remembered your skin clearly in the back of my head. Thoroughly silk like a bairn's bum,"

He paused, prolonging the silence as he gently danced his fingers on the skin of your shoulders; too tender that it began to lick your spine, igniting the tiniest shiver when you've felt the soft, warm feathery feeling of his lips giving your painted shoulder a peck of his specific comfort that he only gives to people who have turned his world a much better place than how much of a hell it has been.

"Now, you are scarred." Geralt grumbled against your skin, giving one last kiss and making everything all worth while as he was still around. Continuously denouncing what they've done to his family---even beating Jaskier to pulp.

"---They've...turned you like me,"

You've slightly turned your head to see his amber eyes withdrawn from reality. Thoughts probably plaguing his mind while he scowled. A simple purse of your lips, suggesting to receive a small, quick buss has Geralt dipping his head down to sweetly smack your lips to his, letting him feel that you were there; finally there with him physically and he didn't need to worry.

Thus, it was just like that. Geralt and his presence, including such soft gestures that you rarely receive nor see that he does for anyone and a soundly kiss has let the upset feelings go away, simply just like that.

Even though, he has never confessed any love yet---this was forging you both to understand what connection you have for each other. Though, clearly unspecific and undistinguished. Or was this his type of love? a love never needed to be told for it can be felt?

The question here, does he even love you? was this love?

Partially turning around in his arms to see him gazing back at you, Geralt seemed to be nonplussed and introverted with his thoughts. Keeping words to himself while he was giving you a solemn frown of his face, examining your swollen eye that you tried pulling him out of his regret and blames with a quirky tone of your voice; sounding like nothing has happened to you nor have you been battered to bruising limbs.

"When are you going to leave?"

"After I take care of you, midget." he deeply murmured, watching you like a hawk with golden eyes as the candle light was making his eyes glow prettier than usual. You grabbed a handful amount of water with your palms, arms sore as you reached up to pour water on his face that surely gotten a deep, complain of his humming when it made him close his eyes from the uninvited rainfalls of liquid.

The fading colored grime has been softly scrubbed off by the pad of your damp thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. His gaze was utmost heavy, shooting you a warm, loving sensation on your chest; surrounding the fading Cicatrix that somehow turned insipid after the nights before with the witcher.

You couldn't help but notice his grouching and grumpy self as he scanned your face with an affectionate flicker in his amber that made you tut. The gentleness you were giving was a thorough unfamiliar feeling he always received from you despite of your negative characteristics---though, he doesn't mind it at all---sometimes, he does but that was beyond the point when he felt comfort from you and aspire to give it back despite of not knowing what and how comfort is to a witcher.

"Stop being such a wild cat---Let me guess, you haven't gotten to have your nap again?"

Geralt huffed out a breath of complaint. A short, low growl that made you giggle quickly when you wiped his face with your fingers; playfully glaring at how you were bathing him.

"When did I ever?"

"It seems like you haven't had it last night again---Stop scowling like you want to strangle me," you lightly poked the dimples of his nose that got him deeply growling his protests. His expressions completely emotionless as he turned his face to avoid your play-time; considering on biting your fingers off to stop annoying the heck out of him.

Howbeit, Geralt went on in silently letting you touch his face. Mesmerized by how his scars really never affected his beauty and probably added perfection over his gorgeousness. The witcher mutely let you trace the bridge of his nose and the scars on his face whilst intently staring at your face in return.

"---Until you came along," he surprisingly continued the topic, never breaking his gaze as he'd seen you lean closer to his face. The tangy scent he was familiar in recognizing from you, mixing with the medicine on your skin. Yet, it didn't stop him to wait for what you had in mind. Your bruised, healing lips brushing against his that made both of your chests tingly for over such sweet intimacy that you've both eventually become accustomed with.

Geralt pursed his lips for your thirsts to calm down; such desperate feeling that both parties yearned for. A twee, syrupy connection of your lips on his---a kiss that made warmth spread through you like an angel's halo trying to make you holy and worth for his affections.

Men in your world will certainly not impress you anymore. Geralt of Rivia has raised the bars of what men should be---he'd ruined the normality of what you expected from such gender because you believed that they may not reach the level of what you've felt for him.

Love as you may see now.

But, it can be quite blurry of a picture for a future that you do not hold or knew how it'll be for the both of you because you've teleported as a miracle that nobody expected to receive.

"If I---If I die---" your pessimist self started to run your mouth over Geralt. Yet, he was quick to cut you off with a sullen chide and an avoidance of your gaze with a grumpy sigh.

"Stop. Don't." he groused with the mouth ends pulled down, "---You're not going to die,"

"What if I do?"

His eyes turned penetrating as if he wanted to tell how much you are wrong about that argument. Those cat-eyes of his; sharp and making a stand for the idea he didn't want to accept.

"I will never let that happen. They can have me hunt down whatever they want, even slice a throat of a nobleman or a monster but I will never let anything happen to you,"

The witcher gently scooped water with a palm of his hand, pouring them over your face. Coming forth with a scrub of it as he shoved his large palm that made you shriek against his hold while he lightly scoured your face as a gesture to clean you more inside the bath; avoiding your healing bruises.

"---I don't want to hear that again while I give you a bath,"

Darkness suddenly turned into seeing Geralt's stony stare after being suffocated by his hand that was suddenly shoved on your face, "I'm sorry," you immediately tried to woo over his vexation, your face wet from the bath water he tried to rinse you in, an involuntary response of your arms slipping around his bare waist shocked your consciousness because of how touchy-feely you've become around him.

The latter welcomed your apology and touches, humming in appeasement for your quick sorry; knowing your way with him and reading that he could not tolerate such physical-contact from you without liking the feel of your skin, you've leaned your body more to him---your naked chests flushed together that got him curling his lips in a small smile whilst feeling your forehead fall on the side of his neck, nuzzling with an apology.

"I-I didn't mean to upset you,"

Quietude embraced you both. Sitting in a tub. Entirely bare for each other to see but it was so wholesome for the betterment of your relationship with him; nurturing what understanding you both have for each other, not entirely specific nor knowing what it is. As a matter of fact, you do know what you felt for him, but not the other way around.

"She..She isn't a queen in my world,"

Bamboozle screamed inside his eyes for your statement, his fingers gliding along the small of your back under the waters as he hummed in curiosity.

"Hmm?"

You've remember the time that the queen has visited your cell. Retched between the hatch of the door came in view was your kind boss who wore the finest set of golden, silk, long gown with rich trimmings. She stopped by to check on your victimized state with a glaze of ignorance in her eyes. She didn't care for your condition because if so, she wouldn't have left the slammer with a quiet scoff.

Out of all the people who could turn out evil was a queen in Geralt's world and a boss you've highly given respect to.

Nonetheless, in this world; it seemed to be like the opposite personalities of how people had been in your world.

"Your queen. Queen Makeda. She's named Angela Cincinnati. The boss of mine who also works in the pizza parlor that I'm in,"

Geralt has leaned back on the edge of the tub in a relaxed posture, lifting his other hand every now and then to pour water on your hair that tickled your insides because of how cold the water has been already. His warmth being your therapy while thinking such hypothetical answers for what mysteries that the continent has been giving you. Jotting down possibilities that a typical earthling could try to guess like they were watching a very interesting movie.

"Does this mean I have someone who looks like me in this world too?" pause. "---Does she have a better life than me?"

Your witcher cocked his head to the side as he was in deep thought over the woman who looked like you. His mouth opening and closing for whatever shit he wanted to say because Savia has been the person who ruined your future by creating such crimes being pointed at you because you looked like her twin.

"Worse. I can say that you had a better life than her and also complicated yours at the same time," he gravely informed.

"My doppelganger then? have you already seen her?"

"Will you try to find her if I say yes?"

"No. I...don't wanna scare her with this drama movie I'm in."

You've leaned away from Geralt and his consoling cuddles, trying hard to rip your body away from him when all you wanted was to bask in his own embrace. Splashing your face with more bath water, he'd given you a curious glint of his eyes. Fixating his gaze on your bare form, subtly sliding his focus on the depths of your neck and wanting nothing more than to give more sweet busses of care. Geralt ignored the modern reference you've muttered about being in a movie and found it more interesting to appreciate the nudity you've freely have been giving him.

It's not like you were naked all the time. The witcher snickered to himself; appreciating the best view of you that he can ever get.

"The water's cold now. Are we done?" you softly whispered, the thought of your doppelganger out there; like a twin from another mother and dimension that you didn't expect to have. It was interesting to know, but frightening to actually see the real her because people like your doppelganger who lived in the medieval era might not be a great sight for the woman.

Geralt grabbed onto the end of the tub, whisking a thin, Ivory robe that was made of silk as he deeply grumbled, "Stand."

You've stood on your feet, hopping off the tub entirely dripping wet from the bath water; feeling eyes heavy on your body and raking over your nudity from behind. The heat started to rise up your face again, making you clear your throat when you've turned your body to grab onto the robe that Geralt has reached out for you. His keen peepers grabbing the chance to shamelessly rake your body in silence.

He'd received no refusal or a loud scolding after thinking it through that he had the liberty of doing so; also, the idea being a gift after trying to protect you from any harm and sacrificing over an endless hunt just for the Kaedwenians to cease their punishments.

"Hmm. A movie. I missed watching one. Though, It's not like if I ask you to go on a date with me again, Geralt---A movie date this time---watching a movie with you will never happen," you turned your head at your front, slipping your arms inside the short sleeves while tightening the knot around your waist; frowning when the witcher couldn't see your face. The truth beginning to bother you when problems began to rise and for such abrupt topic that lingered along your consciousness.

"---Because you and I both live in different worlds, it's like they collide."

Geralt kept his mouth hushed. The loud splash of water echoing around the room when he left the wooden tub; strolling behind to promenade past you. His stark-naked self never bothering him after the night you both had each other. Basking in more of his nudity especially when he slept; knowing that he was mentally complaining over how reserved he needed to be while you slept beside him, his clothes very uncomfortable because of the heat he was feeling.

Basically, he did not know the meaning of clothes after the night of ravish; constantly taking his slumbers in the nude as he covertly tried to wrench them off you as well with his witcher needs.

His bare back and derriere was displayed before you, the distinct foramen of his brawny back giving you a loud greeting as he grabbed onto his trousers on the end of the bed, lending his ear and slipping on his leather pants that was bursting through the seams because of his thick thunder thighs and curvacious derriere.

"My world and yours, they sound like a parallel universe that I completely don't understand even back in earth, it's too complicated to know---too scientific for my thriving brain,"

Quick panic-stricken questions were sent to the witcher; the motion of the words hasty and apprehensive because of such negative ideas forming inside your head; skyrocketing like a plague in your mind while Geralt wore his breeches, not trying to take cover in front of you.

You couldn't help but shift your eyes constantly at Geralt and the queen sized bed, his gigantic biceps straining along his movements while buttoning his pants; lowly grunting from each pull of the hem to fit his curvaceous, muscled arse that you couldn't help but clear your throat, forgetting what you needed to say for a second and being distracted over your trembling anxiety.

You eyes took heed of the opened windows where the brisk wind was slipping in a breeze, seeing how you could see the pale moon from afar. A guess telling you that the room was in a high place. In a few short strides, you've looked out of the window, peering up the Tartarean night sky to meet the moon in its full glory, finding no flaw that you were in a different planet and not yours.

Confusing and complicated to understand in your human perspective because nothing human was basically being shown as you lived in their world.

"This...This is your earth. Your continent. While my earth out there also exists without any one of you knowing. What if I have a count down while I stay in your world---what will happen to me---would I get to stay alive forever in this world when I have been too dependent over you?"

Heavy strides alarmed you for Geralt's presence who loomed behind your back. His mouth curled down when he has heard your questions; feeling no trust in between you both, hesitance scrambling your way and filling your heart when it hasn't been there before you even came to the castle. It was baffling him for your curiosity and determined self to seek answers when he has no answer to it at all.

The sorceress has probably told stuff to you, he silently thought as he brushed a hand over your arm and clothed shoulder. The roughness of his palm colliding against your bruised ones as he tries his best to provide what you needed; not knowing what because of how he does not understand this kind of relationship with women because it has always been typically greed, lust or a needed release to calm his overly mutations.

Except for you, Yennefer or Renfri because he actually really cares.

"Do you not want me to protect you?" he gravely mumbled behind, seeming to be slightly taking umbrage after hearing the queries.

"You're only doing this because you have no other choice just like how you've told the king that I was your betrothed when it isn't true at all,"

How sure were you to say that it wasn't true?

Reflecting and debating his thoughts over your judgement, Geralt marred an agonized frown that creased his forehead. He rarely does claim such label but he didn't regret the action after hearing how it made the king lessen the punishments for you; excluding all planned damnation. The witcher had no explanations about the moment he had called you his betrothed nor did he want whatever you were thinking about his actions.

Hence, it instantly made him cantankerous when he hasn't been feeling it before you opened that mouth of yours again.

"You think I have done it with a purpose I don't understand," he incoherently rumbled in his baritone timbre. Slightly pulling away from his own touch on yours to turn around and walk through the end of the bed to wear and grab onto his armor and under shirt, half naked with a straining back; all rigid and stressing under the skin.

"Geralt---"

"With the mishaps of my world and yours, if I ask you to stay; will you leave your kingdom?"

He'd turn his foot around to see him slip the under tunic over his head, the scowl prominent making him appear stony; dour and solemn. His eyes eager while it reflects the candle light on the side of the bed. Reading through the golden hues lay a pining greed that the witcher never knew he craves for; such hungering he does not know that he wanted to find and receive when it was his own faults over not having it because when he feels a deeper connection with someone, the white wolf suddenly becomes disfunctional; pushing her away because of not spitting the truth about his feelings.

He was capable of it; having feelings over another. Love as people may describe but he was in denial and can be reflective, the processing quite slower than usual because he had never received love through out his lifetime; not even a mother who actually cared.

No one.

You didn't understand him; what he really wanted to say or do because his words were spoken on a race track, passing through the chuckholes that could get you knowing what his true feelings were.

Was he letting you stay out of love or out of pity that you were lost, vulnerable and needed adoption?

"Do you believe in love, Geralt?" you've countered back, feeling the warmth spread around your chest for skipping around bushes over the real meaning behind your words; sounding like a confession if he was smart enough. The warmth spreading through like wildfire, scathing your skin as it felt like it was burning from the reality you were seeing.

"---Or are you only doing this because of the Djinn incident? you're only feeling this way for me because I came around while Yennefer isn't?"

The latter gave a grim frown upon the mention of her name. Just like how he always does when Jaskier says her name when it shouldn't been uttered. Now, it was your turn to give a grouch. Your feigned smile joyless when Geralt was unblinking from your unexpected argument.

Was this true love you have with him? Did he even feel the same way when he can't even say the word at all? or will you both hate each other until it grows into spite?

Will you eventually be killed by the hands of a man you love as said by Eanraig's understanding over the curse set between?

"I've heard from the sorceress that you have been finding Yennefer from her a month before I came along and that this connection I had with you also had been the same with that Vengerberg. What if she comes back around? what will happen to me?"

Ingrith has said more information than you can bear. You weren't just physically pained but also mentally as well for whatever bullcrap she wanted to address. Palms over your ears were the only solution to shut the truth off as it echoed around the dungeon. She'd smirked when you've whimpered from the stones, the back of your sweater drenched in blood for using hardened sticks which had pointy twigs; never believing what they were doing to you as they also tried to throughly kick your stomach.

The men who were ordered to do so had no idea why they've been commanded to batter your torso, but you knew it had something to be involved with the cunning sorceress because of how she'd given another dagger of her gaze lingering on your middle like you would magically grow a baby inside of it when it was impossible from the start because of Geralt's infertility.

The witcher was like a bomb about to detonate. Though, the explosion never came other than a tight clench of his jaw. Geralt was wearing a lour like a bad omen over being interrogated; debating over answering the confusing truth that left him debating over himself as well. He has never remembered the sorceress until you've mentioned her; remembering that he'd taken full measures to even try finding Yennefer's long lost cousin for a plan to get back with her and earning nothing in return.

"You're blathering complete nonsense, Midget. You've also been listening to Ingrith when I told you not to. She's cunning and will do anything to ruin you---kill you,"

Your mouth turned upside down; tighter and pensive for being swerved again, "You didn't answer my question." an exasperated huff was let out, "---she was once important to you. I've heard from your bard; you had adventures with her, shared powerful moments that are exactly the opposite of what we are having---she's the first woman you've loved. A powerful, independent lady that you will never regret having in your life because she can defend everyone---and I'm...just me,"

You didn't know what has gotten to you. The insecurities lighting up the sky, constantly reminding you that his existence can be a mere catch of your dreams because he was too good to be true---or jealousy infecting your blood into thinking that he would leave you alone when he never had yet?

Perhaps, it may be how proud Jaskier has told you that she was powerful that it has intimidated you. Her name seems to be beautiful and there was no doubt she was when he has been avoiding of hearing her name.

He had probably been devoted of Yennefer when a tight frown couldn't be erased upon the lips you have been kissing---thoughtlessly thinking that it was genuine or had any meaning to it.

"Really, what am I to you? "

"My home. Also equally important."

"More important than her? Do you dream of her?"

"You know I don't---not anymore."

Not anymore, he said. So, he does dream of her before.

Crossing your arms over your chest, your fingers went straight to the sleeves, anxiously rubbing over the silk against each other for the dreading beats of your heart, your eyes turning to look away as you quietly spoke; highly aware of an expected rejection.

"If I tell you what I really feel about you, will you give me an answer?" you softly spoke to the chilly air embracing your fidgety form.

"---Because then, you will know my answer about staying in this world you're in."

You've turned your head to see him wearing a permanent pucker of his brows, veiled with furrows of indifference and a look of betrayal. Your bluntness being a detriment because of giving an indefinite answer as well, avoiding his question and misunderstanding the sour expression on your face a while ago.

"Is it hate? Disgust?" he gruffly gnarled. His attitude turning colder like an executioner's ax, unaware of the slight wince on your face because of how glazed he appeared to be.

"---because I am highly aware of what people see of me. I am at loss for what Ingrith must've told; lies or what may result that I am seeing you look at me like I've cast the Djinn's curse on you when you have never looked at me like that at all,"

He spat those words with a sardonic drip of his tongue. The frown darkening his expression more than it ever was.

"Don't blame me on this one, Geralt. Don't shift my words like I think so lowly of you when you and I both don't know the real deal between us with the Djinn incident,"

Geralt loudly exhaled his breath through his nose, marching towards you with the face of an angry ape. Disbelieving what he was comprehending from you, saying that what you shared was beyond reality; like he has been told by it the second time. Your words inconspicuous of loudly saying that maybe what you were both feeling was magic after all; having the presence of the Djinn around  for another relationship that he was having.

"You don't want to stay," he ceased his footsteps, looming before you. His irritation suddenly intimidating like a bulldozer when you realized he was bigger than he could get if he was mad at whatever you've done; or probably it was just your point of view because you were feeling small over his blaring anger.

"---Isn't that what you wanted to say?" Geralt emphasized much clearer this time, drawling his words with a hopeful hint that he just misunderstood you and he was right.

"What---? I didn't even said that! Give me a reason to stay then! I am in shambles for your way of thinking right now!"

He had a wide-legged stance; leaning onto more of your personal space while his Aureate eyes deeply stared into yours. Volatile and blazing as it looked like a fixed glare, baring his teeth as it curled---his fangs slipping through as he bluntly spoke.

"You aren't being entirely forthright,"

You couldn't help but cross your arms tighter against your chest, shuffling on your feet as you mentally gasp from his retort. Defensive as his attitude was beginning to irritate you too.

"Well, you aren't being forthright too!"

Geralt huffed before you. Momentarily scoping out the ceilings before peering down and staring right back with blazing peepers. Though, the witcher has never raised his voice on you when you've did. But, you knew he was fuming; seething deep inside, "I don't know what's wrong with you." he gravely mumbled to himself, steaming up from your sudden, churlish attitude.

"---you're a cherub for a while then acting hostile the next. Is this your pathetic insecurity talking or you just hate me all of a sudden?"

Your eyes instantly went wide open and jaw falling slack at how he'd open his mouth. Raising a finger to his chest as you slightly backed away.

"You're calling my insecurity pathetic?" you uttered in disbelief, swallowing hard for having to hear him be this way---though, you knew he was capable of being such because of how blunt he was. But, he was never mean to you as much as calling your insecurity pathetic. Tight lips were given to the witcher who had his chest puffed out for his own frustrations and repulse.

"---Also, aren't you the one who said that maybe this whole thing is actually just the Djinn effects before you've even---! Even---!?" put his pickle in a jar. Wreck the punani. Ravished you in bed. Shared Netflix and Chill despite having no Netflix in their world.

You shook your head for stammering, quietly growling for the annoyance he'd given after basically taking care of you---expecting that it was done out of love, just like how you've first initially thought of staying forever by his side when he has asked you to stay in their world regardless of the consequences and disadvantages.

"What's next then? My anxiety is childish for you too? nonsense?" pause. "---You don't even know what I mean---and even have no idea about what feelings I was talking about. You can't even tell me what happened between you and Yennefer without disregarding my question or avoiding the topic---or even cut Jaskier off!"

Standing akimbo, you've narrowed your eyes, tilting your chin to the fullest because of his skyscraper height. The displeasure shown from how your nose was twisted and from how you couldn't control your mouth from taking a marathon.

"If I shut up and never question you about things anymore then it just means that I don't care for you at all when I do so badly. Do you know what this means to me? Nobody has plagued my mind so hard---no other man has filled my mind with crazed thoughts. In my world, this means that I---"

Geralt immediately cut you off. His teeth bared and jaw set as he interrupted you out of the blue, catching you off guard.

"It must be for the better then," he rasped, clearly disgruntled for what he should respond to the quick blatter of your brain. His mind gripping so hard like wires being tightened.

"---It must be for the better that you tighten that mouth of yours because you don't know when to shut up sometimes,"

Geralt had a cloudy countenance from his sudden bark. Suddenly forgetting how to respond after hearing every word inside his head. He shouldn't have cut you off especially when you were about to say your secret---the one you've been delibitating over countless of times inside your head; making everything sure before saying those heartfelt words because it was three words that meant the world to you as it will be the first.

Yet, the witcher had to fuck everything up with his petulant mood.

Your clenched fists turned slack. Expression stolid with your throat tightly swallowing the bane sipping through your esophagus like it was being punished for even hoarding all your confidence over confessing what you've felt for the white wolf. You've rapidly blinked your hazy, cloudy eyes; your chest tightening because it was reading 'rejection' because of how Geralt wanted you to shut up.

Maybe, he didn't need to hear the confession at all.

Eyes cast downward; feeling the medicines he'd given you seep through your skin and making everything numb. You didn't expect the concoction to also numb your fragile heart, experiencing your first heart break. Your palms turned clammy over tightening them over. Passing beside Geralt and avoiding those eyes that was thoroughly regretting what has been said, the bed may seem to be a better place to faint on and cry yourself through the night rather than his comforting arms that you wouldn't get to reject if he'd say his apologies, trying to stop you from crying.

Hurriedly hiding your face away from him, you've sat on the bed with your back away from him. Your face like rain experiencing in the middle of thunder, utterly gloomy and despair for reading the signs in the opposite of what you didn't expect. Forgetting that love shouldn't be filled with expectations so disappointments may be less.

Your toes were scuffing against the carpet with a voice turning smaller, shaky as the tears were threatening to fall and it would be when Geralt decides to talk.

"I hope you didn't say that but...but considering my profound hearing tonight and how angry you made me feel, I suggest that you take care of that monster hunting of yours. I sincerely hope you find that witch. You can throw me away soon so you couldn't hear anything from me again, Geralt. You want me to zip it? I'll zip it, then. Don't bother talking to me if you genuinely don't want to,"

Everything would be perfect. This would've been a utopian scenery when your leading man decides to wrap his arms around you, comforting you from the verge of crying your heart out for his mistakes or for both of yours. But, Geralt was no leading man or a prince that he was highly opposing of. He was beyond repair or a man whom you needed to understand more than any normal one should because of how he was raised and created.

Geralt of Rivia was a witcher you couldn't understand. Hence, he was more human than he could ever get as he decided to be unresponsive. Silent and basking in his own regret. Just like a new potion he'd recently encountered, trying to decipher how it worked---knowing the ingredients to get you simmering down in no time.

It was a wrong word to say. Geralt was sure of it. He was beginning to argue with himself, grinding his own teeth together when he has seen your posture slouch. Your fingers fiddling with the sheets of the mattress, tightly holding them in your hands as you looked outside of the window from the side of the bed, avoiding his eyes.

Then, he heard familiar padded footsteps coming forth outside the doors of your chambers.

Eanraig. He was being requested to be seen for his upcoming hunt in a few hours.

Geralt was dreading to leave you in a state like this because he knew you were mad.

He heard loud taps against the locked door which has subtly make you turn your head towards the doorway without wholly turning your body. A frustrated growl reverberated around the four corners of the room---it was Geralt.

The latter tightly closed his fists on his sides, shooting daggers on your back who avoided giving him attention after his fuming episode, hearing the word 'fuck' slipping through his lips in such an exasperated bark to himself while he padded through the room and grabbed onto his belongings; his weapons and his resentment for such an argument that you blocked him in after receiving a petty, personal attack.

You've heard the lock sliding out of its hook. Swiftly turning on your bed, Geralt was already paving his way out of the door, heavily marching and begrudging. He'd open the door to reveal Eanraig raising an arm to knock a little more louder.

"The king requests for you, Geralt---"

The witcher gave a displeased, unmannerly grumble of his chest. A hum that surely given the druid an understanding that he was not in the best mood to talk, passing through Eanraig as he went straight out of the door with the nastiest scowl he has seen since the moment he arrived.

Lovers Quarrel. He mindlessly thought to himself, watching the witcher strut away and along the stoned hallways like he was bringing all the storm with him. Nobody would notice he was aggravated if they knew him better.

Eanraig quietly shut the door behind him, his eyes meeting your bleary ones that complimented the pouty frown growing more and more when you've realized Geralt left you all mad, never even intending to comfort you, ask what 'feelings' you meant or even bother to tell you that he didn't mean you were pathetic.

In a flash, you've gotten a queasy feeling inside of your stomach which made you grab onto your mouth, your face flinching as you suddenly stood up on your feet, "Little woman," the druid sauntered to where you've strolled---before the open windows as you shot your head out of it, retching after a little while before he was beside you, calmly patting your back to make you feel better.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just...nauseous. Thank you, Eanraig." wiping your mouth with the back of your palm, you've heaved exhausted breaths while the druid ushered you to sit on the bed. Talking in the midst of it, assuring him that it was nothing but just a stomach bug and feeling weary over it, "---Probably because they've beaten me to pulp,"

The Druid earnestly stared upon your pale face. Hands shaky as you grab onto the soft sheets, softly grazing them beneath the pad of your fingers, caressing with such feeble strength. Eanraig scrutinized your condition as you turned your head away with a face falling over your current fight with the witcher.

The latter languidly sat beside you, a genuine smile turning his eyes into crescent shapes that tells he was intrigued and amused over what signs was receiving from you especially the warm, tender aura radiating off you; more than what you can offer like you came in two's.

"Will you wholeheartedly accept the responsibility of being the mother of your witcher's child, little one?"

I hope you loved the double update, bb’s! FEEDBACKS ARE SO APPRECIATED!

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl​​​​ @himarisolace​​​​ @barkingbullfrog​​​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​ @turkish276​​​​ @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​​​ @nympeth​​​​ @amirahiddleston​​​​ @gabethelobster​​​​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​​​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​​​ @melaninstylezz​​​​ @psychosupernaturalhero​​​​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​​ @marvelousell​​​​ @kingniazx​​​​ @angelias134​​​​ @tapismyforte​​​​ @chook007​​​​ @covid-donotenter​​​​ @deadlydemon​​​​ @cheesecakeisapie​​​​ @angelofthor​​​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky​​​​, @shesthelastjedi​​​​, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks​​​​, @britty443​​​​,  @suhke3​​​​, @shadowclawstudio88​​​​  @ruthoakenshield​​​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​​​​, @crazybutconfidentaf​​​​​

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira​​​​​, @iloveyouyen​​​​​, @rahdaleigh​​​​​, @silverkitten547​​​​ @henrythickcavill​​​​ @kaatelyyynn​​​  @madelinelina​​​, @summersong69​​​, @raynosaurus-rex​

[krabstick32]

It’s The Little Things We Remember (collab)

We’ll Do It All Over Again - A Modern/Reincarnation AU with @trueblueoceaneyes​

Welcome to the second part, or the “head” of the We’ll Do It All Over Again (Modern!AU) Collab! This Modern!AU collaboration is divided into two parts, @trueblueoceaneyes​’ “It Took A While, But We’re Home Now” and mine “It’s The Little Things We Remember”. It’s about you and Giyuu meeting in a new life where the Corps and the Demons still exist, armed with the memories and experiences of a past life. Although both of them are set in modern times, and technically within the same timeframe, they are not direct sequels or immediate continuations, so it can be read alone. (Although, we would appreciate it if you read the other’s part UwU)

NAVIGATION:

PART 1: It Took A While, But We’re Home Now by @trueblueoceaneyes​​

Novelist Giyuu Tomioka passes off his past life as a fantasy series but shit goes down when the main heroine of his book shows up in front of him.

PART 2: It’s The Little Things We Remember by @krabstick32 (You are here!)

You’re tasked to go on a mission with the Water Pillar. He was a bit of a jerk, but despite meeting him for the first time, you already knew that - among a couple of other things.

header was made by trueblueoceaneyes and image used was by @/sinba_ on twitter

Pairing: Hashira!Giyuu x Hashira!Reader (mentioned Mitsuri x Obanai)

Synopsis: You’re tasked to go on a mission with the Water Pillar. He was a bit of a jerk, but despite meeting him for the first time, you already knew that - among a couple of other things.

Tags/warnings: There is some light angst, swearing, a semi-graphic depiction of a fight scene, and a bit of blood. If you’re not comfortable with that please do read something else uwu

Word count: 14.1k~

A/N: I honestly can’t believe I was able to work with the one and only @trueblueoceaneyes​. Like literally, all of this was possible by their wonderful and amazing self, and would not exist without them (i still can’t believe how we literally wrote a grand estimate of 23k words) UwU working with her was so fun, and her writing is beautiful and i am willing to sing her praises day and night, so go check them out!! <33 BECAUSE BOTTOMLINE IS: SHE’S GREAT.

To be completely honest, both of us were freaking out with how long this is, and were crying over how we would cut it, until we said fuck it, let it be 14k words long. We thought that theirs was long, but we thought wrong lmao. Anyway, we hope you like our labor of love, and enjoy it as much as we did writing it. Please Enjoy~

NAVIGATION:

PART 1: It Took A While, But We’re Home Now by @trueblueoceaneyes​​

PART 2: It’s The Little Things We Remember by @krabstick32 (You are here!)

Thursday 9:37 PM

From: Headquarters        

            9:37 PM

Head to Ubuyashiki Tower—Oyakata-sama’s office at 10:00 PM. Meeting Assignment.

Taking note of the short message, you shut your phone and tucked it into a shirt pocket before heaving a sigh and standing up from where you were perched at the edge of a building. 

Ensuring that both your Nichirin blade and Nichirin gun was tucked well onto your person, you turned around and leaned your body back, letting yourself fall as you grabbed a stray railing to hoist yourself back up.

Despite the late hour, the city was loud as you jumped from building to building. From the height you were on, it was relatively easy to hear the sound of cars and sirens, and the faint thumping of music from the bars that dotted the streets. You made sure to keep yourself hidden in the shadows and on top of the rooftops to avoid detection as you were rushing to get to the Ubuyashiki Tower in the few minutes you were notified to arrive. Thankfully, the building wasn’t far from your previous assignment, so you were able to arrive in record time, landing at the top with little difficulty as you walked towards the lone structure settled in the middle for those like you, and entered the elevator inside to go down a few floors.

Exiting the metal contraption, you were greeted by a welcoming lobby with an adjacent garden open to the crisp night air, filled with wisterias and designed with a respectably sized koi pond. Nodding to the young girl at the receptionist table, you continued walking to a brightly lit hallway cushioned with lush carpets, and wall-mounted lamps. 

As you walked, you composed yourself for a moment and brushed off your skirt, using your fingers to lightly comb over your wind tousled hair. When you finally reached the large door at the end of the hallway, you took a deep breath before knocking three times and entering.

Upon your entrance, you quickly noted Oyakata-sama sitting on his desk chair and Giyuu Tomioka, a fellow Pillar, standing tall in front of the master. As per protocol and to show respect to the leader of all demon slayers, you quietly bowed and greeted the master as soon as you were in front of his desk.

“Good Evening Oyakata-sama. I apologize for being late, I got caught in a mission.”

“Raise your head.” You obeyed, and saw him smiling calmly at you, easing your nerves. “It’s alright my child, you aren’t late. In fact, you arrived at just the right time. Giyuu himself just got here.” 

“Thank you Oyakata-sama.”

The master gave a small nod and gestured to the chairs the two of you were in front of. “Well, now that (F/N) is here, I have something to discuss with the both of you. Please, take a seat.”

You tossed a quick glance at the man beside you and mirrored his actions as the two of you took a seat. Upon your and his movement, Oyakata-sama clicked a button, and the room instantly dimmed as a projector dropped down behind him.

“As the both of you know, we’ve been getting reports about disappearances focused around Natagumo Prefecture.” The screen showed a sizable map with a specific area highlighted in red. “Specifically the town at the base of the mountain. It seems to be acting as the base of operations of the demon.”

He clicked at a small remote and the screen showed fifteen humans aged around ten to sixteen years old. “It’s been a month and over fifteen missing cases have been reported to the police.” The slide changed and showed seven people wearing demon slayer uniforms. “Seven of our own haven’t returned after that mission.”

Immediately your stomach twisted into painful knots upon hearing the deaths of so many innocent lives - you felt sick unto your very core. No matter how long you’ve been a demon slayer, it never gets any easier hearing a death count.

“Could it be an upper moon?” The Water Pillar asked after a moment of silence.

“I’m afraid it’s possible. I hate sending any of you into the battlefield, but I need the two of you to handle this as quickly as possible, to avoid more lives from being taken.” Oyakata-sama replied somberly. “Take the necessary supplies. You can leave at dawn.”

The two of you stood and bowed in respect to Oyakata-sama.

“We’ll update you on any major news.” Giyuu spoke, and you added “Yes, We’ll take our leave now.”

The two of you left and walked back out into the hallway, and through the reception area. The girl from before was nowhere to be seen, so once the elevator doors opened, the two of you rode in silence down to the swordsmiths' floor. A mission such as this would require the two of you to have your weapons checked and to grab any necessary items.

On the way down, you decided to engage in a conversation with Giyuu. Despite being a Pillar for a few months now, this would be the first time you were paired with the raven-haired man, or spoke to him for that matter. You wanted this mission to go as smoothly as possible. 

Taking a deep breath, you started, “So, Tomioka-san, this would be the first time we're on a mission together, yeah?” You broke the silence and gave him a smile, only for the silence to stretch on uncomfortably after your words left your mouth. Thinking that maybe he didn’t hear you, you were going to repeat it until the doors opened and he spared you a quick glance. 

“Uh, Tomioka-san?”

“Stay focused. This is an important mission.” He spoke, in a strong yet quiet voice, and exited with a brisk pace until he disappeared behind a corner, leaving you standing alone in the elevator to gape at his response.

You were dumbfounded. “He did not just…” you asked yourself, because how rude was it to ignore your coworker and leave them hanging? Those were the first words you spoke to him - apart from the compulsory introduction of you being the new Thunder Pillar - and yet you were promptly snubbed. Even Obanai replied to you when you spoke to him.

In your stunned silence, the doors started to close until you reached out a hand, and exited as well. Briefly, you heard a small shhk that signaled it closing, but didn’t care as you were absorbed in your thoughts, carefully picking apart the situation.

There was nothing wrong with what you said. You were only trying to engage in a conversation - trying to get along for the benefit of your mission, because nothing was worse than a tense atmosphere between a team. But then he goes and slaps your metaphorical face by insinuating that this was all a big game to you, that you’re not taking any of this seriously? You were a Pillar; as if talking to a handsome man would distract you from doing your job and exacting vengeance for those poor souls killed in cold blood.

Letting out a dignified huff, you continued walking, and resisted the urge to stomp your foot down at the Water Pillar’s unfriendliness.

In the back of your mind however, you were barely surprised. He was always like this—always putting up a front in the presence of others, always acting cold as ice, always pretending like he didn’t care even though he did care, he cared so much, all because he felt that he didn’t deserve to be happy after—

“Don’t come closer.”

You were losing breath as you tried to catch up with the raven haired male after a Pillar meeting. How was he even walking so quickly? Not to mention it didn’t look to be as taxing to him as it was for you. He was practically strolling when you were full on sprinting. He was a Pillar, sure, but so were you! 

“Hey! Don’t ignore me,” you gasped as you stumbled over the uneven path, but you quickly regained composure. Giyuu doesn’t even pause for a second. “I just wanted to-”

“No thank you. Please leave me alone,” he gruffly replied. How come he didn’t seem the least bit tired? You heard he trained at a mountain, fine, but how the hell was he this fast in such a thick forest? You still couldn’t go around that quick without tripping over some root or getting hit in the face by a random branch! 

Making up your mind, you go as fast as you can and tackle him. It doesn’t look like he ever expected you to do that, because he loses balance and you both go crashing into the forest floor. 

Whatever you were on top of shifts and you’re forced to move. You groan as you get up, only for the breath to hitch in your throat as you find yourself staring into blue eyes. 

Gods above, he looked absolutely divine. 

“Why?” he grumbled as he softly pushed you off of him and sat up. “What were you trying to accomplish by doing that?”

“It’s not my fault you were walking so quickly! Who does that when you’re talking to someone?” you huffed, your cheeks feeling incredibly warm at how close you both were. He probably caught how you had gawked at him. 

“Fine. What do you want?” he groaned, frowning at you. He doesn’t miss how red your face had gotten and how you couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. “Why do you keep following me?”

“We’re going to be friends.”

“...What…?” Giyuu stares as you smile brightly at him. You were practically sparkling. “You’re joking, right?”

“Of course not, you idiot. Do I look like I’m joking?” you huffed again, before getting up and dusting your kimono and uniform free of dried leaves. “We’re going to be friends even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Giyuu is completely dumbfounded, until you reach down and pull at his hands to get him up on his feet. He takes a mental note of how your hands looked so fragile and soft compared to his own, but you had pulled him to his feet with strength that did not match your smaller body frame. 

“Why… are you doing this?” he whispered. He couldn’t understand. 

“Well, I don’t like seeing people alone. Especially when they don’t look like they want to be,” you grin at him as you both find your way back to the village. Giyuu is quiet, both by your words and because you haven’t let go of his hand. “First off, let’s have lunch! My treat, of course.” 

When you blink, you feel like you just took a sudden breath of air and the room comes back to view. What just happened? What the hell was your subconscious on about? Where did those thoughts even come from?

You barely knew the man. You didn’t know where he came from or what his circumstances were. You tell yourself to get your facts straight and effectively push back whatever that was, only leaving the memory of the conversation you just had - or the lack of a proper one, to be exact.That small thought quickly dampened the fire of your irritation, because admittedly, you believed that first impressions aren't everything - to always take them with a grain of salt. Despite how plain rude he was, you had no right nor the sufficient amount of experiences to be able to understand his character and pass judgement. 

Slowly, you took a deep breath, and exhaled. 

Maybe he just had a rough day, or maybe he was just shy and socially inept, a farfetched and random thought may it be. Perhaps that was just how he really was. Regardless of his personality though, you can’t deny the fact that he must be an exceptional demon slayer to be granted the rank of a Pillar, and because of that, you’d try your best to at least be respectful to him, even if he didn’t return the same courtesy.

Shaking your head, you resumed walking, and turned the same corner he did to reach the weapons room.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you were willing to admit to yourself that he was amazing.

The way he moved and handled the sword was absolutely unparalleled, you noted as you watched from the side. His actions were like water - the way he dodged was perfectly calculated, his slashes fluid, and precise. It was like no movement was wasted because everything was precise and deliberate. It almost seemed like he read the battle in the blink of an eye before executing an attack.

You couldn’t help but feel awed as you watched his fight. He truly was something else.

“Hey, am I really that pathetic to you? How annoying are you to turn your back on an opponent to ogle your comrade?”

From your periphery, you felt the air vibrate, and without batting an eye, you unsheathed your blade and cut off the approaching appendage with little effort. “I was enjoying the show y’know. It’s not everyday I get to see him fight,” you sighed as you turned, and slashed at air to get rid of the blood on your sword. “But you’ve ruined my fun. Might as well get this over with. So, what’s your name?”

“Are you stupid? You don’t even know me, the great upper moon six?”

“Frankly, no. Not really.” This wasn’t upper moon 6. It was strong yes, but no matter how many humans a demon ate, this was nowhere near the strength of an upper moon. Although with it’s impressive blood demon art of replicating multiple limbs, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a lower moon.

It seemed to pause, before screeching out a loud “How annoying!” as a dozen arms lunged for you.

You quickly jumped out of harm’s way and up a decently sized branch. “That’s a pretty cool blood demon art you got there. Imagin—!” You leaped off the tree before a large snap cut you off as the demon broke the branch you were previously on. “Hey! I was talking!”

“Annoying! You’re so annoying! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“Ugh, is that all you really have to say?”

Crouching on the branch, you pushed your feet, and catapulted yourself into the sky. You shut out the world as you breathed deeply, focusing and positioning your body into one of your breath forms.

“Thunder breathing, First form: Thunderclap and flash.” And in a flurry of movement, you landed deftly on your feet before hearing a loud thump sound from behind you.

“Well.” Dusting off your skirt, you stood and faced the demon. “That should do it.”

“How annoying!”

Immediately, you turned around and was surprised to find the demon floating 15 feet off the ground.

“Not so pathetic now, am I? A Pillar like you can’t even kill me!” It taunted, before raising his hands and the ground beneath you crumbled.

It all felt so real. You felt the ground shake and how the earth seemed brittle - only instinct made you twist out of the way as the forest floor seemed to cave under you. A tiny mistake on your part caused you to land quarter of a meter short from what was supposed to be the edge, but once you felt a completely intact forest floor, you immediately knew that multiplying elastic body parts was not its Blood Demon Art.

You need to talk to Tomioka. This could get ugly fast without knowing which was real and which was an illusion. Your eyes immediately found him fighting, but widened in horror as you watched the demon he was fighting pushed at his shoulders and slammed his head against the ground. You felt your heart freeze as you screamed his name, not even noticing that you used his first.

“Giyuu!” 

In your haste to reach Tomioka, Giyuu’s vision suddenly slowed as he watched one of the demon’s limb aim for you.

You were distracted from seeing him hit his head, and in a moment of weakness you didn’t notice the demon preparing for the kill.

It was too familiar; it felt like he’s seen this before, like he lived through this. His vision overlapped with a visage, of you wrapped in a painstakingly familiar haori, your skin pale and painted with red, his hands wet and drenched in your blood… 

“Giyuu, stop, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. It hurt having to be moved around so much. You felt really tired, despite being carried.

Red. Red. So much red.

“No, no. Just shut up, please,” Giyuu could feel his lungs constricting. He was so panicked he had forgotten how to use his breathing technique. He felt like his whole chest was on fire, legs only moving due to adrenaline. “Please. We’re close to Shinobu, just-”

“Giyuu…? You’re still there, right?” your voice was so small, so unlike how he usually heard it laughing or calling for him. “Why…? Can’t I see you…?”

It was like something in him snapped.

No, I'm not letting you die again!

“WATCH OUT!” Giyuu screamed as he moved so fast that only your fellow pillars would be able to see how he grabbed his gun from its holster and aimed at the hand reaching for you. 

Upon hearing his warning, you immediately flipped back, using the forest floor as a springboard to push yourself out of the way. When you landed, a solid arm got a hold of your waist and you felt yourself being pulled to a strong body, as the air brushed past the two of you.

Quickly, he pulled the two of you behind the cover of a massive tree, Giyuu only letting go of you when he took a quick glance at where the demon was cradling its hand and screaming its head off. You were breathing heavily, immediately aware of how close you were to death’s door.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” He turned to you as he asked, gently holding your shoulders and inspecting your uniform for any blood. Whatever he saw just now felt so real, he had to check for himself if you were alive.

You shook your head, dazed as you saw the worry cloud his eyes. “No.”

He breathed out a heavy sigh, feeling relief flood into his system before scolding you lightly. “You need to be more careful! You almost got yourself killed!”

“Sorry, sorry. But that’s besides the point. How are we going to kill it? It’s blood demon art shows some pretty damn convincing illusions.”

Tomioka thought for a moment. “We need to distract it, keep one of us at the front while the other takes the kill from the back.”

You nod in affirmation. His idea made sense. “I’ll be the distraction.”

“What? No, i’ll do i—“ Giyuu stopped talking once he noticed the sound of a clashing sword and found that you weren’t there in front of him anymore. “Sure,” he sighed before gripping his sword and jumping on the trees’ branches for cover.

He didn’t notice you fighting earlier, but as he jumped from branch to branch all around the opening, he saw that you were incredibly fast. Even with his enhanced senses, you appeared to be a blur as you weaved in and out of the demon’s clutches, laughing all the while taunting it.

“Ahh, this is fun! You should’ve put on a fight like this with me back then!” Squealing, you darted out a hand and slashed at its neck. Unfortunately for the both of you, the demon was nearly as fast as you were, and you only managed to land a scratch on its skin.

“Annoying! The way you’re jumping around is annoying!”

Giyuu wanted you to stop talking so badly, because you weren’t supposed to rile the demon up like this! Distract it sure, but not bait it to want to kill you more!

“Oh, are you getting mad already? You seem a little red there.”

“ANNOYING! STOP! MOVING!”

“Ah, would you prefer me to stand still? I wouldn’t mind! You should have said so earlier.”

And when Giyuu saw your eyes dart to his for one quick second, he immediately knew what you wanted him to do.

In an instant, he launched himself off the branch he was on as you pulled back your sword and jabbed it at the demon’s forehead.

“Water breathing First Form: Water surface slash!” Quickly, he extended his sword and slashed at its neck before it could move a muscle as he twisted his body to avoid hitting you. The leaves crunched under his shoes as he landed on his feet a couple of feet away.

“Annoying, annoying, annoying! Put me back on my body so I could prove to you that I’m not pathetic!” The demon wailed as it started to disintegrate on your sword. “He would’ve let me move from Lower Moon 1 and let me join the Upper Moons if the two of you didn’t meddle! You two will pay for this!” It threatened, as the last of its body turned into ash, and its clothes fluttered down to the ground.

The clearing was quiet save for the wind whistling past and the tree leaves rustling by.

“That was the real one right?” You whispered, slightly anxious that another one would pop up in the silence.

“It is.”

Heaving a sigh, you looked back at Giyuu and saw him walking towards you.

“Are you okay? You hit your head right?” You asked him, surprise coloring your face when he tore a portion of his suit. “What are you doing?”

Gently, he took your arm and inspected a decently sized laceration settled neatly in between your shoulder and elbow. It was deep, but it was a clean cut and it wasn’t too bad, considering that you’ve had much worse such as broken bones and dislocated joints.

“Worry about yourself first, will you?” He turned your arm carefully, making sure that his actions were slow and steady before wrapping the piece of cloth carefully and with practiced ease.

You frown. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I feel fine. Now focus on yourself. This is pretty deep. It might need stitches.”

Though it was unlikely, you hoped that it was too dark for him to see your face clearly—it felt too warm for your liking. “I… didn’t notice.”

He tied the bandages off neatly, before answering, “You will soon. The adrenaline will probably wear off in a few minutes.”

“I’m not the best at first aid, but this will do for now. Try not to move so much until we get to Shinobu?”

It felt oddly nostalgic, seeing him worry like this a little, almost like a distant dream or a distant memory. “Thanks.”

Giyuu nodded before pulling out his phone from his coat pocket. “I’ll be updating HQ. Kakushi should arrive in a bit. Do you want to wait for them, or head back?”

You weighed the pros and cons before responding, “I wouldn’t mind waiting for them. The fight was fairly easy, but I feel drained. We could get checked too.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said as he typed another message while you sat down slowly beside a nearby tree trunk. Once he shut his phone, he followed your lead and leaned down on a tree a few feet from yours.

After a few minutes of a slightly tense silence, Tomioka decided to break it, and be the one to start the conversation.

“That… was the first time I saw you fight. You’re pretty fast (L/N)-san. It was amazing.”

“Oh?” You tried to mask the surprise in your voice. Hearing him initiate unnecessary conversation was something you weren’t used to, especially after your first conversation (if it could even be considered one) back at the Ubuyashiki tower. Was he offering an olive branch?

Regardless, you couldn’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you looked up and automatically smiled up at him. “Well, you were doing really good yourself. I’ve never seen someone move that gracefully in a fight like that.”

At your compliment, he looked down at the ground as he tried to hide his nervous habit of fiddling with the hilt of his sword. “I’m not.”

“Oh don’t be modest now Tomioka-san! You looked amazing!”

“I was complimenting you; don’t turn it around on me.”

Laughing lightly, you let out a breathy “Okay, okay.” After deciding to not push your luck and that you’ve bothered him enough, you raised your hands in defeat before bringing them back down to your lap.

The silence that followed was definitely nicer compared to before, until he broke it again with a near inaudible whisper.

“Giyuu.”

“Hm?”

“Just… Giyuu. Giyuu is fine” he added, rubbing a hand on the nape of his neck.

Smiling widely, you turned to him, “If that’s the case, just (F/N) is fine too, Giyuu.”

“(F/N) it is then.” he spoke, feeling a sense of warm familiarity as he tested the way your name felt on his tongue.

Truthfully, he noticed when you called out his first name even in the heat of battle. It wasn’t much of a big deal back then, because the two of you were focused on staying alive and doing your job, but as he processed the fight in his head, he found that he didn’t mind, and that he actually liked how his name sounded in your voice.

As if on cue, the cracking of dried leaves and branches alerted you and Giyuu, instinct driving the two of you to grab onto the hilt of your nichirin blades. The tight grip on your swords only eased up when the familiar uniform of the kakushi moved into the clearing. There were around ten of them, seven surveying the area and taking down any evidence of the demon’s existence while there were three holding medical kits who walked over to the both of you.

They stopped once they reached a reasonable distance before bowing slightly. “Tomioka-sama, (L/N)-sama, please excuse us. We’ll be checking on your injuries.”

You muttered a grateful thanks as the kakushi attending to you started cleaning the wound Giyuu wrapped earlier. It was wrapped pretty well, so they only applied an ointment before replacing the cloth with gauze. “I apologize (F/N)-sama, I can’t suture your wound here because I’m not trained. We’ll immediately take you in the medical wing of the tower once you and Tomioka-sama head back.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as the kakushi bowed in front of you. “Hey, no need to bow, I really appreciate your help…?”

“...Tanaka Ayaka.”

“Really, thank you so much Tanaka-san.”

“O-Of course (L/N)-sama!” Tanaka said, bowing deeply in gratitude for your kind words.

As you and Tanaka argued on why she should or why shouldn’t bow, Giyuu watched discreetly, feeling the warmth pool in his stomach from the kindness you displayed. He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt the pain on his head multiply as the kakushi tending to him started wrapping gauze on his bleeding wound.

“Please bear with it for a bit longer Tomioka-sama, you have a concussion-”

Immediately, your gaze darted to the side. You weren’t eavesdropping on his conversation - truthfully, you only overheard - but when your eyes landed on a stream of blood coating patch of his hair and a portion of his pale skin you didn’t notice before, you absolutely flipped because how dare he tell you to worry about yourself first, when he was the one with a head injury!

“You idiot! You told me you were fine!”

The kakushi watched on in wide-eyed surprise (and slight fear as well) as the mighty Water Pillar looked everywhere else except at you, the fuming Thunder Pillar, who were scolding him (fairly lightly) for not telling you about his injuries.

Ayaka didn’t even argue with you afterwards.

Arriving at your estate after a mission used to be a nice moment for you, because you could rest and train at the comfort of your own home, but hearing the silent clunk of your keys resonate through the walls… you couldn’t help but feel a little cold and lonely.

It’s been a week since that mission with Giyuu back in Natagumo Mountain happened, and only a couple of hours since you left Ubuyashiki Tower. After your initial report to Oyakata-sama, he suggested that the two of you stay and take a few days off to heal your injuries at the medical floor. The two of you didn’t even resist as you were both led to adjacent rooms, showering immediately before dropping dead at the futon laid in your respective rooms. Now, you were as healthy as you could be, the laceration, bruises and scratches all healed thanks to the week of rest. Before you left, you made sure to inform the master of your recovery and thank Tanaka-san who took care of you and kept you company.

Taking off your blazer and loosening your blouse, you passed by your living room and walked into the kitchen to try and make something to appease the grumbling of your stomach. You did occasionally have your home cleaned on a schedule when you weren’t around, but moments like these were when you were a bit regretful of not hiring any at-home help. 

The fridge was a welcome sight as you grabbed the handle to open the door; the contents however - or the lack thereof - weren’t as appealing because it was empty save for a wrinkled lemon, a few bottles of water, and a quarter-filled jug of milk.

“This is pathetic,” You grumbled as you recalled the moment you ate the last bit of leftovers without restocking your kitchen. Whyy.

“I hate myself,” you moaned to your empty kitchen. 

Deciding to put yourself out of your misery, you walked up to your room to store your weapons and to change into a pair of jeans, and a hoodie. Once you were in something comfier, you grabbed your phone, your keys, your wallet, and a small nichirin dagger - for safety, at the off chance of getting ambushed by a demon or a human - and put on some white sneakers before locking your door and leaving your estate.

Taking a deep breath, you felt the cold night air nip at your lungs and the exposed skin of your face. The difference in temperature shook you a little, as you broke out into a jog. Pulling up your hood, you tug the strings tighter and into a cute little ribbon to prevent it from falling.

The walk to the convenience store would normally take fifteen minutes, but with you jumping on roofs and taking shortcuts you knew by heart, you were there in record time, and feeling hungrier than you did before.

The convenience store was a sight for sore eyes as the familiar ding sounded upon your entrance. Smiling at the clerk, you grabbed the largest basket and moved around the store, grabbing everything that looked appealing and piling them on as best as you can.

Once you were satisfied, you proudly walked back to the cashier and presented your precious loot to the boy in front of the register.

“Stocking up huh?” He smiled as he rang up your items.

“Yup. The lone lemon in my fridge was feeling a little lonely.” You joked as you grabbed your wallet.

The two of you chuckled as he bagged your food, pointing to the little screen of the cash register once it was done. “That would be 6,854 yen.” You gave a light nod and handed him a ten thousand yen bill. “Here, you can keep the change.”

His eyes bugged out of his sockets at the large tip “Yo, thanks, dude!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed familiar black hair, and a quick glance behind you took you by surprise.

“Tomioka-san! Why are you here?” You asked in surprise.

He eyed your overflowing bag and your silly attire. “Same reason why you are.” He answered. At his surprisingly sarcastic response, you quickly pulled back your hoodie, and looked him over to note that he was in a similar attire to you, though he was wearing a sweater and a cap, instead. “Although i’m just getting dinner, not the entire store.”

The remark caused you to flush red in embarrassment. You didn’t want him—or anyone really!!—to see you pig out. “Oh, um. Well, I’m just… restocking.” He seemed skeptical, but there was a ghost of a smile settling on his face.

“Okay,” He said casually as he moved past you further into the store.

Nodding at the cashier and grabbing your bags with both hands, you walked after giyuu, instinct ruling over rational thought.

“Hey,” you called after him. He turned back to look at you, causing you to stutter in your words a little. Why did you call for him? What could you say to make him stay for a little bit without making yourself look like a total fool? “I—… um, i mean, uh would you like to share my loot? I think i just bought most of their stock, and I… still haven’t thanked you for saving my life back at Natagumo.”

He raised a brow at you. “Loot?”

“The food I got,” you mumbled as you dropped your gaze to the ground and felt your face burn at your choice of words, because who in the world calls their groceries ‘loot’, except you? Ah, how embarrassing!

While you were wallowing in your misery, you missed the way Giyuu turned his face away from you and the way his shoulders shook from containing his laughter. You just looked too cute, all flushed and flustered like that, but he did his best to hold it in because he didn’t think you’d appreciate him laughing in your face.

After a moment, he composed himself, and went back to his cool and normal facade before replying a short, “Okay.”

“Great!” You beamed at him, trying to squash the butterflies in your stomach. “Want to head outside for the tables?”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

Unconsciously, you grabbed his hand after moving your other bag. You didn’t notice his face warm at your casual touch, but the cashier did, and he gave a thumbs up to a flustered Giyuu as the two of you passed by.

“Ah shit. I forgot to get drinks!” You exclaimed as you rummaged through your bags.

Giyuu watched you with a small smile. “With the amount of food you bought, I’m surprised you didn’t raid their drinks too.” He was joking, but he really was surprised. It’s like you bought everything in the store - The two of you already ate two bento boxes each, five bread buns each, three rice balls each, and had a cup noodle… each. 

There was even another bag of chips open at the table, and your bags were still full!

“Is that a joke I hear?” You smiled, leaning back in your chair as you popped a chip into your mouth. “Well I didn’t expect to meet you here. I was originally going to eat at home.”

He nodded before standing and stretching a little.“Don’t worry I got it.” 

“Wai-“ you were going to hand him spare change, but he was already at the vending machine two houses down the street. 

You sighed and used your hands to prop your head upright. How unfair.

As he inserted a few bills in the slot, you couldn’t help but admire his profile. You always noticed him back at work. He was extremely professional, nearly passive as he was assigned missions and at the rare times you catch him training at headquarters. But as the two of you were here together in a convenience store, all of it felt so… so normal. In this short moment, you could just pretend that demons weren’t real, that you still had a family waiting for you back home, that you were just a normal twenty-one year old woman hanging out with a friend from work who you wished was a little more than just a friend.

“Cheater.” You pouted as he walked back within hearing range.

He ignored you, passing you a bottle. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You said, taking the bottle and looking at the cover. “Oh! Yuzu Juice! I didn’t know I told you about my obsession with these.” 

“You didn’t.” He answered taking a seat, as you rummaged through your pockets for a bit of change.

“Really? Huh.” You didn’t seem to notice how he scrunched his eyebrows and looked at the drink carefully.

Normally, buying a drink for someone wouldn’t be a big deal, but he didn’t just randomly guess. It was almost second nature for him to pick that drink. He could almost hear a voice in his head that sounded so much like you.

You couldn’t come with Giyuu to Natagumo Mountain because you were hurt pretty badly from the last mission you went to. He had come to visit you at the Butterly Estate.

“Why are you so excited about a fruit?” Giyuu asked incredulously, as your eyes shimmered at the basket of yuzu fruits he brought.  “It’s just a fruit right?”

You gasped as you hugged the basket away from him. You looked so offended that Giyuu was taken aback for a second, halfway considering an apology.

“Just a fruit? JUST a fruit?” you gasped again, more dramatically than the last, but you don’t think Giyuu understands you’re pulling his leg because he looks even more worried. “Am I actually hearing this from my own lover?”

“Why? What’s so great about it?” he asked, but you don’t miss the hidden panic underneath his voice. “Am I missing something?”

“It’s a yuzu fruit, Giyuu,” you lean in and whisper, like the greatest of secrets were being shared between the two of you. “And do you know what that means?”

Giyuu shakes his head slowly, entranced. He leans in as you motion for him to come closer.

“It means,” you whisper, before pecking his cheek and grinning as he blushes. “We can make my favorite drink.”

You laugh as Giyuu groans, burying his face in his hands as he fell for another one of your stupid jokes.

“Don’t forget, Giyuu,” You toss him a yuzu fruit from the basket before leading him to the kitchen of the Butterfly Estate. Hopefully Aoi and the other girls wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for a bit. “I can never turn down some good yuzu juice.”

Giyuu blinks, and suddenly he can’t remember what he was thinking about just a second before. He felt like he was forgetting something very, very important.

“I… just took a wild guess.” he muttered. There was no use pondering about it now, no matter how hard he tried to grasp at the straws of his memory.

“Well, you made a pretty good guess.” Placing a hand over the cap, you opened the bottle and took a hearty sip “Ah, I love this so much! Here’s my share.” You said, offering a hand with the money.

“Oh please, as if I can’t afford to get you juice. Think of it as thanks for sharing your food with me.”

“Okay then,” because If he wanted to treat you, who were you to argue?

“Meeting adjourned. Stay alert, the issues we’ve talked about will be sent later as a mission to some of you.” The room was once again bathed in light as Oyakata-sama pressed a button which shut down the projector and automatically drew the meeting room curtains back open. You and your fellow pillars stood as Amane-sama grabbed the handles of the master’s wheelchair. “I’ll be seeing all of you at the next meeting. Take care, my children.”

All of you bowed deeply as Amane-sama closed the door shut, before the nine of you stood from the chairs situated around the large table, moving to talk to the others.

“(F/N),” you immediately felt your heartbeat faster. You would’ve kicked yourself for reacting in such a way when he called for you, but damn it if it didn’t make you feel nice.

I think my heart is broken, what the hell.

“Ah, Giyuu, are we still on for training later?” you smiled politely at your co-worker, and Giyuu faltered for a second too fast for you to have noticed before he had already recomposed himself.

“Yes, but don’t expect me to pull my punches just because it’s training,” Giyuu felt the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly as he watched your face flush.

“I’ll have you know that I hardly break a sweat from fighting off demons alone, so I should be the one to tell you that,” your cheeks were puffed from indignation. The words pour out of you without thinking and you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. “Besides, when have you ever pulled your punches? You said you’d always spar with me using everything you had so I wouldn’t die out in-”

“What…?” Giyuu’s voice knocked you out of your rant. He had a funny look on his face, like you had said something odd. You immediately backtrack to your little spiel in search of something wrong - something embarrassing - you might’ve said. “When did I…?”

When has he ever pulled his punches? I mean, it’s true, I’m sure of that, but…?

You stop. How would you have known that? This was your first training session together. What were you going on about? By the thoughtful yet confused look on Giyuu’s face, you could tell the words had not gone unnoticed.

“N-nevermind that,” you tried to salvage your pride, despite your ever glowing face. “I, uh, I don’t know what I’m saying. Sorry, I just…”

“No, it’s fine,” Giyuu shook his head and waved away your apology. There was a pause before he seemed to make up his mind. “Actually I was—“

“Tomioka-san!” You and Giyuu jump as Shinobu suddenly pops up between the both of you. You’re confused whether to be thankful for her cutting in or not - on one hand, she had saved you from more embarrassment, but on the other, you wanted to know what Giyuu was going to say. “Sorry to cut your conversation short, but we need to borrow (F/N)-chan for a little bit. This won’t take long!”

Without even waiting for Giyuu to respond, Shinobu’s already dragging you away from the black haired male. You turn to look back at him apologetically.

“Sorry, I’ll meet you in the training hall,” you see him wave at you in goodbye before Shinobu makes you turn a corner and you both enter an empty meeting room. Well, it was mostly empty, save for a couple of people.

“So, Shinobu, Mitsuri… Uzui and Kyoujuro? What’s up...?” you ask hesitantly. You don’t like the knowing looks and the mischievous grins they have on their faces.

“You tell us.” You don’t like the glint in Shinobu’s eyes as she stares you down. “I don’t think we’ve ever seen Tomioka initiate a conversation on his own.”

“Or smile for that matter.” Mitsuri added, barely suppressing her grin. Shit, didn’t she live for this kind of thing? You were definitely fucked. You need to get out or you’re dead.

Uzui hummed before getting all up in your face, making you take an involuntary step back, but Kyoujuro blocks you from taking another step. You were surrounded on all sides.  “Yeah, it was weird. Did you do anything flamboyant to him?”

“Excuse me?” Did they think you pulled some sort of magic trick over him? A sort of spell? “I did nothing!”

“Nothing, she said!” Mitsuri squealed, before turning back to you with eyes glittering. “Did you see the way he looked at you? He looked like he was on cloud nine!”

He… he did?

Brushing it off, you wave off their words, because the very thought of him being genuinely happy while talking to you made you ridiculously happy. And you didn’t want these idiots to see it. You were not going to give them the pleasure of seeing you turn into a bumbling, blushing mess.

“Oh, please, if anything It’s m-” You cut yourself off once you realized that finishing that sentence would lead to an entirely different ballpark you were not willing to enter. “You know what? Nevermind. Giyuu’s waiting for me so I have to go.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘Giyuu’ now huh?” You catch their words before you make up your mind to book it. You thought you were free because you only had to take one more step to get out of this cursed room, but a strong, yet slender hand darted out to grab your wrist, effectively preventing you from walking out of this room and out of this conversation.

“Nu-uh, not until you answer us,” Misturi grinned, locking you into a hug to make sure you didn’t try to run away again.

“Guys, I swear, we need to train.” you grumbled, feeling the sweat gathering over your forehead.

Uzui tsk-ed, and placed a hand over your shoulder. Great, just what you needed: another restraint. “Look, we’re just curious. Tomioka’s flamboyant, but he’s a pretty quiet guy so we’re worried for him.”

“Aw... well, tough shit, I’m going now.” You say, finally prying yourself free from Mitsuri’s soft albeit annoyingly strong grip.

“(F/N)-chan, you don’t have to deny it.” Placing a hand over your shoulder, Misuri smiled softly at you, and you didn’t like how you could practically see the hearts flying around her back.

“Deny what?” Maybe, if you acted like you had no idea what they were talking about, they would drop it, and you can leave, and you can train with Giyuu.

But such things in life would never happen, and you were doomed the very moment Shinobu snuck up on your conversation. You didn’t like the thought of him waiting for you while your coworkers hounded you.

The four of you turned when you heard a light sniffle come from Gyomei. “Ah, to be young and in love.”

“Wh-? No, it’s not like that at all!” you tried to defend yourself, but by the look on their faces you knew you were fighting a one-sided war. They were convinced there was something going on. To be honest, the more time you spent stuck in the room with them the more you were slowly coming to terms with your own feelings. And that was not good. “Besides, we only went on one job together, so why-”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of love at first sight~” Mitsuri giggled, and by the look on her face you had a guess she was already planning the wedding.

“Love at first sight, my ass,” you groaned, recalling your first assignment together. “He basically told me to shut up the first time I tried talking to him. What’s supposed to be cute about that?”

“The first time,” Shinobu emphasized, and you buried your face in your hands at her knowing smile. “But from what we just saw, not only did you talk again, but he even initiated the conversation himself.”

“Not to mention you’re going to be training together,” Kyoujuro nodded vehemently. “And as far as I can remember from my time as a Pillar, Tomioka has never trained with anyone because he preferred to train on his own.”

“And I guess now I’m never going to find out what training with him is like because you guys insist on keeping me here,” you were honestly proud of yourself that you haven’t punched someone yet - but you were oh so painfully close. If not one of them, then you might just punch yourself just to escape the shame. This felt oddly claustrophobic and it was making you slowly lose your mind. “Also, when have you guys turned into detectives?”

“(F/N)-san, we would’ve let you go already if you’d just admit what was going on between you and Tomioka,” you stared dumbfounded as they all nodded, waiting patiently for your answer.

If you guys think I’m going to crack first, you’re dead wrong.

“It’s nothing, okay?” you sighed, exhaustion over this whole ordeal finally setting in. Would you even be able to train with Giyuu like this? “He invited me to train with him after I almost messed up during our mission. That’s all there is. You guys have just been looking too much into it.”

The room goes quiet, the other Pillars taking turns to look at one another, unsure of where to go from there. You shake your head as you pass by them and make your exit.

“NO! I refuse to believe that!”

Oh my god, no, please.

You look incredulously at Mitsuri as she blocks the door in front of you. You feel your eyes twitch sporadically, your hand that was already holding on to the doorknob tightening and your knuckles going white.

“Mitsuri, come on,” you groan. You weren’t too keen on saying anything (too) bad at the pink haired girl since she was honestly really nice, just ever so slightly airheaded, and getting into bad terms with her husband Obanai didn’t sound too appealing. “What more do you want from me?”

“How about the flamboyant truth, (F/N)?” your head whipped back at lightning speed at Uzui, who merely laughed at the dead-eyed smile you gave him.

“What ‘truth’? I already told you guys, I-”

“(F/N)-san, one last thing,” your head turns to Kyoujuro, who shares a look with Shinobu. You watch as something passes between them, before the Insect Pillar nods back at him with a sweet smile. Kyoujuro grins as he turns back to you. “Just do this one thing for us and I promise we’ll let you out.”

Shit. I don’t like that.

But you stand your ground. “And that would be…?”

“Can you look into my eyes and tell me that there’s nothing going on between you?” he raised an eyebrow, challenging you with his wide eyes that seemed to stare deep into your soul.

You lower your head, mentally preparing yourself. You pray to whatever higher being that could hear you to give you the strength to get through this unscathed.

Please, for the love of my sanity-

You look back to Kyoujuro, head held high. He holds your stare - his eyes were intimidating as hell -  but to your relief, he backs off first after a good few seconds. He sighs, as does Shinobu.

“Fine, fine. You win, (F/N)-san,” Shinobu grumbles.

“For now,” Uzui throws you a mischievous grin as you pass by. You scowl at him.

“Whaaaaat? We’re letting her go?” Mitsuri wailed as Kyoujuro practically pried her off of the door.

“A deal’s a deal, Mitsuri-san,” Kyoujuro said.

You’ve barely taken a step out the door when a hand is placed over your shoulder. You don’t bother to turn around, scared you really might punch someone this time.

“(F/N), one last thing,” Sighing, you turn back heavily, because it feels like they’ll never let you leave, but when you see Gyomei smiling kindly at you, you can’t help but return it too. “Remember, there is no shame in admitting your feelings. Face them head on and find strength within it. You can only run from your problems for so long until you loop back to where you started, because you can never stop things that were set in stone by fate.”

Despite how drained you were feeling, you manage a genuine smile. “Understood, guys.”

Letting out a sigh, you were finally able to breathe after your nosy coworkers got all up in your business. You were glad that you were alone in the elevator, because at least now you could take a moment to compose yourself and get rid of the blazing blush before you faced Giyuu.

“Can you look into my eyes and tell me that there’s nothing going on between you?”

Kyojuro’s words echo in your head. You were unbelievably lucky for being able to keep your poker face before he cracked, because if that stare-down lasted a second longer, you would’ve burst, and confessed your feelings to them instead of Giyuu.

Snapping out of your thoughts, the doors opened to a bright wide room that smelled of wood and steel. The training hall was one of the many floors in the building and the Corps spared no expense in getting it look as it did with high ceilings, and large areas divided into varying sizes. Some areas were even designed after different types of terrain.

You spot Giyuu with his back to you, warming up in the center on the biggest mat of the entire hall. He was doing practice swings with a wooden sword.

“Hey, sorry I'm late,” You say, causing him to pause mid-swing as he turns to see you grabbing a wooden sword on the far wall and depositing your own blade beside his. He watched, slightly mesmerized as you gathered your hair into a high ponytail on top of your head. “Want to get started?”

He shook off his daze before he raised a brow at you, setting his sword tip down against the ground and leaning a bit of his weight over it. “You’re not going to warm up?”

Smirking, you say “Oh please, this is my warm-up.” You don’t give him a chance to reply as you move straight for him, sword held high.

In one effortless swoop, Giyuu had his sword in front of him blocking your swing with ease. “That’s cheating, in case you weren’t aware.”

“I know.” You smiled, before retracting and swinging again. “But I prefer to call it strategy.”

“Haaaa,” You breathed out before dropping on the floor. “I’m glad we’re on the same team. Fighting you is crazy exhausting.”

Walking towards you, he offered you a water bottle and once you took it, he sat down beside you. He was so close, you could feel the warmth radiate off him. “Likewise. You’re ridiculously fast.”

“And you’re ridiculously strong.” You smiled, taking a sip from the bottle he gave you.

The two of you were quiet, keeping each other company as the other regained their breath. In the silence, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to the conversation back in the meeting room.

“I don’t think we’ve ever seen Tomioka initiate a conversation on his own.”

“Did you see the way he looked at you? He looked like he was on cloud nine!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of love at first sight~”

“But from what we just saw, not only did you talk again, but he even initiated the conversation himself.”

“As far as I can remember from my time as a Pillar, Tomioka has never trained with anyone because he preferred to train on his own.”

“Remember, there is no shame in admitting your feelings. Face them head on and find strength within it. You can only run from your problems for so long until you loop back to where you started, because you can never stop things that were set in stone by fate.”

All of their words passed by your head like a snapshot. It was slightly disorienting hearing the others comment on your relationship with the Water Pillar. You liked him, but you already planted it in your head that you had no chance. Because who were you kidding? One look at him, and you knew that you were out of his league. He was good-looking (though that was more of a bonus than anything), dedicated, strong, and had a dry sense of humor that could rival your own. A guy like that was bound to have someone waiting for him at home. He was too much of a catch for you to believe otherwise.

“(F/N)?”

“Yeah?” you hum distractedly, still completely submerged into your own head.

“Do you-” He started, and abruptly, your bubble of fantasies popped.

He was looking at you weirdly, an expression you’ve never seen him make, and somehow your mind managed to mix that up with him being able to read your thoughts. You just panicked, your mouth spouting off nonsense before you could process anything, trying in vain to protect yourself from rejection. “No! I don’t like you!”

“Oh.” He looked back at his folded hands before adding a short “I’m sorry.”, before you realized what you just said. Regret immediately washed over you. 

“No, I mean, I don’t not like you, I-I’m not making any sense-”

He interrupted you gently before standing up and dusting off his clothes. “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I understand. Sorry if you felt forced to train with me.”  

Oh my god, you’ve never wanted to slap yourself harder in your life than you did in this moment. 

You fucked up. You fucked up so bad.

You reach for him, trying to explain, “Wait, don’t misunderstand please, I was jus-”

“Really, it’s fine. I know I'm not the easiest person to like. Especially with how I treated you back on our first mission.”

“Giyu-”

“I’ll be leaving now (L/N)-san. I’m sorry again.”

And that was the last straw. Hearing him call out your name in such a cold voice hit you so deeply that you tell the consequences to fuck off as you stand up, and pull him back to you.

“(L/N)-san, I swear, it’s fine-” Neither of you get to hear how he ends his sentence, because you grab his shirt, and pull him closer, until your lips were pressed against his.

You felt your resolve crumble as your lips moved against his own, and as his hands reached over, cradling your face closer to his. It was so soft, so warm, and your heart ached as you felt your eyes start to sting. After a moment, the two of you pull away, bringing your foreheads close, before you spiral into a wild spiel.

“You idiot! If you would just listen!”  You whisper lightly, afraid of what his reaction would be. “I like you. I really, really like you. I didn’t mean what I said. I only said that because you caught me off guard and I didn’t think you’d like me back! I’m scared of being rejected by you because you're smart, you're funny, you're nice… ”

“I didn't want to tell you but I got caught up in my thoughts, and I just… I know what I said, and I’m sorry, I'm really sorry. It might sound like an excuse to you, but you really did catch me off guard. If I could take it back I would.”

“I’m really sorry, Gi...Tomioka-san. I hope you could forgive me.” You say, before you untangle your arms wrapped around his neck, and walk yourself to the elevator, not even waiting for the inevitable rejection you’d get from him.

Pushing the doors open, you didn’t notice how the other pillars - namely Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and Uzui - were still situated around the room, because your only goal now was to get the bag you left earlier, leave straight for your home, and sleep.

When they saw your puffy eyes however, all of them looked amongst each other, before pushing Mitsuri closer towards you.

“(F/N)-chan, are you okay?” At Mitsuri’s soft voice, you jumped out of your skin, cradling your bag to your chest as a shield.

“W… What are you guys still doing here?” You ask, before furiously wiping at your eyes.

“You’re avoiding our question. Why are you crying?” Normally, you would’ve brushed them off, and replied in a snarky comment, but you were tired, and you just wanted your bed.

“I... Tomioka and I got into a little fight, is all.” You replied, not even looking up from fixing up your bag.

Mitsuri immediately looked back at the others upon hearing you say ‘Tomioka’, before rubbing your back consolingly. “Do you want to tell us what happened?”

You sniffed. “No, not really. I’m just tired and I want to go home.”

A quick look passed between Mtsuri and Kyojuro before the Flame Hashira walked over to you.

“And home you shall go! C’mon, (F/N), I’ll drive you back.” Kyojuro said, grabbing a hold of your bag while Misturi took your hand, leading the two of you after Kyojuro. “Yeah! I’ll make you some pancakes, and lots of other food!”

Once the three of you left, Shinobu looked up at Uzui, and nodded.

Shinobu and Uzui found Giyuu splayed back at the center training mat.

For a good second the pair thought that the Water Pillar had fainted, or something of the same degree. But upon getting closer, they noticed him looking up, dazed, with a hand over his lips. Making their way over, they sat at either side of him, waiting for him to acknowledge their presence.

“What are you two even doing here.” Giyuu blinked as he realized he wasn’t alone in the room anymore. They were looking down at him with a mix of surprise and amusement. “Did you just come to stare at me?”

“We should be the one asking you that,” two seconds into talking to Giyuu and he was already testing Shinobu’s patience. “(F/N) went back to the meeting room.”

“Yeah. She was crying flamboyantly, by the way.” Uzui nodded briskly, arms crossed and eyes closed in thought.

Giyuu couldn’t deny how his chest had tightened at the memory of you walking out earlier, “I know.”

When he didn’t speak for another few seconds, clearly having no plans to elaborate until prodded, Shinobu sighed. “Care to tell us what happened?”

Do I have to…? Giyuu scowled softly. But he might as well, since he was lost ever since you left, with no clue what to do next.

“... She told me she didn’t like me, so I apologized and moved to leave,” Giyuu’s voice was no louder than a whisper, as if he was scared someone would overhear. But the other Pillars heard him nonetheless. “But then she kissed me and told me she liked me before leaving me here.”

Shinobu would be lying if she didn’t admit she felt victorious. So you were lying. HA! But that’s a conversation for another time. Right now, you left the other half of the party lying down on the training room floor and it seemed they needed to drag him back to his feet if they wanted a straight answer from you.

“And? How do you feel about that?” Shinobu poked the side of Giyuu’s cheek, but it’s like the male was still lost somewhere they couldn’t reach as he failed to give the slightest reaction besides words.

“Confused.” Giyuu muttered mostly to himself. “Really confused.”

“I feel like there’s a flamboyant ‘But’ in there...?” Uzui honestly felt like he was getting his child to admit what he did wrong - except he had no child, he was talking to the Water Pillar, a grown man who should’ve been easy getting answers from.

Giyuu’s eyes softened at the idea of you, and the kiss from earlier, and the look didn’t exactly escape the surrounding Pillars. “I like her too. A lot.”

Shinobu suddenly stood up, surprising both males. “Well, then, you’ve got your answer. So what are you lying around here for?”

“She left, I doubt she wants to speak with me now,” Giyuu muttered, disheartened - which was the exact opposite of what Shinobu wanted to achieve.

She remembered something odd she noticed when you had left earlier, so she looked around the room and felt like she struck gold.

“Oh, she did leave, it’s definitely too late for that,” Shinobu says, brushing aside Giyuu’s sarcastic “gee, thanks”. “But I have a hunch that she’ll be returning soon.You’ll just have to wait.”

Shinobu pointed to the far end of the training room, forcing Giyuu to muster the energy to sit up to see where she was pointing to. There on the wall was your Nichirin blades among the rack of extra training swords. 

“I can’t believe how stupid I am today.” You grumbled before exiting the elevator.

You were on your way home with Mitsuri and Kyojuro, when you noticed that the sword strapped to your waist wasn’t your nichirin blade, but the wooden one from the training hall. Kyojuro was nice enough to turn the car around back to the building, and pressed the hazard button on the car as he pulled up in front of Ubuyashiki tower.

“Take your time (F/N)-san, Mitsuri-san and I will wait here.” Lightly, you smile at him before grabbing the wooden sword and going into the building.

And this is where you find yourself. You were back in the training hall, warm orange light filtering through the large windows as the sun began to set. You were glad you noticed your missing sword when you did because not being prepared for a mission could cost someone’s life. Running your fingers through the wall, you open the lights and feel a slight disappointment at how empty the hall was of people - or rather one raven-haired male.

You messed up once already, (F/N). Why add to that by wishing he was here?

Letting out a sigh, you move to the wall, to where your sword was supposed to be, and jump out of your skin when you notice the Water Pillar leaning over and facing away from you towards the window.

Of course. Of-fucking-course. Because why not?

Quietly, and in hopes to avoid him seeing you, you creeped carefully along the wall, clutching your nichirin blade to your chest, as you exchanged it with the wooden sword. You turn around, thankful that he didn’t seem to notice your presence before walking to the ele-

“Why did you leave earlier?” He asks, not moving an inch from his position.

Of course he noticed you.

“I didn’t think any of us had anything else to say.” you fiddle with the blade in your hands, refusing to turn and face him. Your hands haven’t shook this much in years, the last time being when you had first fought a demon.

“Well, I had something to say,” You cringe as he turned to you, his face as beautifully stoic as you had always known.

Okay, wow. You knew he had a bit of a mean streak going on, one that died down when it came to talking to you but you didn’t really think he was mean enough to roast you for having a stupid crush. Sure, you did accidentally say you didn’t like him, but that was a lie - obviously, since you kissed him like the suicidal dumbass that you were.

“Well, I’m here now, so we might as well rip the bandaid,” you say that, but as his eyes bore into your own, you realize that you’re not ready for what he has to say and you cut in as he opens his mouth. “Before you say anything though, I just wanted to say that I completely understand if you want to stay away from me and-”

As you rambled on, you didn’t notice him walk closer. Giyuu had a determined look on his face as he grabbed onto your hands that were nervously playing with your sword, and held them in his own, softly running a thumb over your knuckles. You immediately drag your gaze from the floor and into his eyes, seeing warmth and gentleness in his blue irises.

Giyuu’s eyes never leave yours, even as he asks, “I do have something to say… If you would listen?”

You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry, as you give him a slight nod.

He breathes deeply before he speaks. “I’ll admit. I don’t really care what others think of me, as long as I’m doing my job and they’re doing theirs. I’m used to people saying I’m cold, and unlikable, but for the past few weeks, I found your company comforting, and I thought that we’ve been genuinely getting along with each other. So when you said you didn’t like me when I was going to ask if you wanted to have another match, I was really confused and hurt.”

“I’m sorry-” You interrupt, before he shakes his head and asks you to let him finish.

“So, I was really surprised when you pulled me back and kissed me. Then you go off telling me that you like me, not even 5 minutes after you told me you didn’t, and then you leave, not even letting me process anything, or telling you what I had to say.”

Giyuu stops for a moment, opening his eyes and looking deep into yours. He seemed to debate something for a moment before he decided, and took a short breath.

“If you would have waited, I would have told you that I like you too.” Your knees felt absolutely weak as he placed his forehead over yours. You could feel the rough calluses on his hands as he squeezed yours softly.

“You would have?” You ask. He nods. “Do you really?”

Your heart melts when you see his face change into a soft smile, a smile he only put on for you. “I do. I really like you (F/N).”

It felt so surreal hearing him say that he liked you too. You felt like you could fly.

“I like you too.” A small watery laugh bubbles up from your throat, and a warm giddy feeling swirls around your stomach, easily replacing the heavy feeling of regret.

You could feel the tears fall from your eyes and the blood rush to your face. You pull your hands off from his as you use it to cover the raging blush on your cheeks. “Ugh, stop making me cry. This has to be the most I've ever cried in my life.”

“And it’s the most I’ve ever been confused in mine too… but I hope it’s happy tears now?” He takes both of your hands into his left, using his other to wipe at the tears and cradle your face, like you were a priceless jewel.

“Yeah,” You hum, moving closer and letting his left hand release your hands as his arm wraps around your waist. He pulls you closer and you revel in his warmth. “Can you say it again?”

“I like you.” His smile grows fonder as you lean into his touch, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Giyuu has never felt so content in his life.

“Again?”

“I really, really like you.” He says softly, and your mouth stretches into a smile that mirrors his.

“Prove it?” You ask, faintly hinting at what you wanted him to do as your faces move closer and closer until you were an inch apart and could feel his breath fan over your face.

“Okay,” He whispers, before he finally leaned in and kissed you again.

BONUS:

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Obanai groaned as he rolled over in the large training room floormat. You might have used wooden sticks, but it still hurt like hell.

“I didn’t know the training room floor was so cozy,” Muichiro mused, staring up at the ceiling as he was splayed on the ground. “I don’t think I’ve ever been knocked down before. (F/N)-san, help me sit up. My spine feels tingly ever since you hit me.”

You laughed sheepishly, crouching beside the Mist Pillar before helping him sit up. Giyuu, on the other hand, was standing over Obanai, looking down at the Serpent Pillar with a bored gaze.

“You told me not to hold back,” Giyuu deadpanned, bi-colored irises glaring at him from below.

Word had travelled fast that you and Giyuu were going out. And of course, since you had always been dragged into the Pillars’ shenanigans, you had decided it was time that Giyuu be a part of the group. So to warm up a bit to the idea of having him around, you had offered the idea to have a training session with everyone, doing pair up battles to save time and promote teamwork. They agreed, since they have never seen Giyuu train with you, much less have trained with him themselves.

But the idea backfired hard.

“Tomioka and (L/N) win,” Gyomei announces, a small smile on his face. He looked amused more than anything. “That’s 3 wins.”

You decided the pairs by letting four people write their names on scraps of paper and letting the other four pick from the pile. Gyomei had decided to sit this one out and be the moderator, so the numbers balanced out. And since Giyuu was the so-called “guest of honor”, the others had allowed him to pick first.

“You guys rigged it. I know you fucking did,” Sanemi grumbled.

Giyuu had miraculously pulled out your name from the pile. Sure, there were only four names, but it was still a one-out-of-four odds.

“You can check if you want, Sanemi,” you sighed in exasperation. “I didn’t do shit to that paper.”

“Bullshit,” he roughly grabs the scrap from Giyuu and inspects it, the other Pillars laughing as he nitpicks your paper.

You stand next to Giyuu, who was leaning on a wall away from the Pillars, and ask in a soft voice so no one else could hear. “Alright. How’d you do it?”

You see him smile for a fraction of a second from the corner of your eye. “You press down on your pen too much when you write, so I just felt around for the paper that had the most indentations.”

“How the fuck…?” Sanemi exclaimed, and you laughed again.

“You’re so amazing!” Mitsuri squealed, bounding up to the training room floor and glomping you. “You guys worked together flawlessly! ”

“That���s putting it too lightly,” Uzui laughed. “They flamboyantly wiped us out.”

“Yes! Truly amazing!” Kyoujuro nodded. “I’m aware of both of your prowess, but this was truly overwhelming.”

“You fuckers cheated!” Sanemi growled, walking over to the training room floor and pointing his wooden sword at the two of you. “How did you-”

“Your attacks are mostly mid level swings, aimed at the stomach,” Giyuu answers passively as he sits down beside you and Muichiro on the floor.

“Wh…?” For the first time, Sanemi is caught off guard, and so are the other Pillars, but you nod at Giyuu’s words. You don’t notice how they stared at the both of you weirdly.

“Yeah, you do,” you laugh softly, before making a slow sweeping motion with your wooden sword, Giyuu parrying it once it’s within his distance. “You swing, and then when your opponent curls up, either from pain or to try and dodge, you go for a thrust.”

When you stop talking, you and Giyuu turn to the other Pillars, who were mostly looking at you with gaped mouths. Shinobu and Kyoujuro had frozen smiles on their faces and Obanai and Sanemi were looking at you like you had force fed them rotten food.

Was it something you said…?

“Hey, (F/N)-chan,” Shinobu suddenly cut in through the silence, smiling as pleasant as ever. “How did you beat me? Tomioka-san uses hard force to deflect but-”

“You usually do thrusts. I guess because of your sword style, right?” you answer, almost impulsively. “It ends up leaving too many openings, especially if someone hits you from the side.”

“You only do slashes when you’re close enough,” Giyuu adds. “But you thrust when you’re too far away because it helps with your speed and momentum.”

You blink again, the room coming into view again, and find the others staring at you, more confused than anything.

“Tomioka-san? (F/N)-chan?” Shinobu asked, the smile gone. Shit, did you say something you shouldn’t have? “What are you talking about…? I only use a revolver because it carries my poisons better. My sword is usually reserved as a last resort, but I haven’t used it in a long time. I was a bit off today since I’m not used to it anymore, but...”

“Not to mention,” Sanemi grumbles to the side, looking at the both of you suspiciously. “I haven’t gone on any fucking mission with you guys. How the hell do you know how I fight? You stalkers, or something?”

You turn to Giyuu, and he turns to you with a confused look that probably mirrored your own. The other Pillars stared, waiting for your answer. But you blanched.

How the fuck do I answer that?

Finally, Giyuu breaks the stare and turns to the other Pillars, “Mission and Training videos.”

You blinked. And so did the others. Every single one of you had the same confused looks on your faces.

Mission and training… videos?

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of them?” Giyuu raised an eyebrow at the Pillars, who looked at one another, expecting someone to know. He sighs as he points up at a surveillance camera at the corner of the training room. “They’re a collection of videos in the Corps archives, mostly of the Pillars during joint training sessions or battles with the Twelve Demon Moons. They’re captured using the crow-drones or the cameras scattered inside and around the building. Demon Slayers can ask to view them for educational purposes, like learning a new breathing technique.”

You gape at Giyuu and Pillars in turn, a frown slowly etching over your face. Something told you that wasn’t the whole truth. Maybe the videos were real, but on how you knew about the other’s battle styles, well…

“There’s such a thing…?” Shinobu mutters thoughtfully, looking at you and Giyuu.

Uh-oh, looks like she doesn’t buy it.

“EEK!” Mitsuri suddenly exclaims, and Shinobu and the others jump from the shrill sound. “What if my videos are super embarrassing? I have to check!”

And she’s out the door, followed closely by Obanai who was trying to reassure her that it was okay. You’re rather surprised Obanai got up so quickly when he was just on the floor earlier.

“Shit like that exists? And I’m only finding out about this now?” Sanemi grumbled, his aura carefully getting angrier and angrier. “What if the fucking demons get a hold of those videos?”

Sanemi was out the door in the next second, yelling about giving away the corps’ battle strategies. Kyoujuro and Uzui followed, interested about seeing the videos. Gyomei took Muichiro to the clinic with Shinobu. The Insect Pillar cast you a questioning look before trailing behind the Stone and Mist Pillars.

And then it was just you and Giyuu again.

“Giyuu?” you called out softly in the silence. When you hear him hum, signalling that he was listening, you push on. “I’ve never seen those videos before. I didn’t even know they existed.”

You turn to him when he lets out a soft laugh, “I haven’t either. I read about them in a report a long time ago, but I never felt the need to see them.”

Wordlessly, Giyuu lies back down on the training mat, arms crossed behind his head. He stares up at the ceiling, looking deep in thought. There’s a question at the tip of your tongue, something you’ve always wanted to ask, but could never muster the strength to actually say outloud.

“It’s odd. Shinazugawa was right. I’ve never been assigned to go on a mission with him,” Giyuu started, still staring up at the ceiling, seemingly muttering to himself. “But I knew how he was going to move. It was almost like-”

“Like you’ve fought with him before?” you finished, and you turned to Giyuu to find his eyes already staring deep into your’s.

“That’s the thing, though,” Giyuu scowled, your image blurring at the edges. Was that a kimono you were wearing? “I’ve never trained with any of them before today. But it felt like I knew what to do. Like I’ve seen it before. Not in a video, though.”

“More like muscle memory,” you mumble, lost in Giyuu’s eyes. Has his hair always been that long? “Like my body already knew how to move on its own.”

The silence stretched on, but it was almost like time had stopped for the both of you.

“I’m not ready,” you sighed shakily, your hands wringing around as you paced in the room before the Ubayishiki garden. You could hear the yells and grunts of your fellow Pillars, mixed in with the clash of swords. “Sanemi always looks at me like I’m a demon and I think this is his chance of actually cutting my head off.”

“Relax, (F/N),” Giyuu sighed, taking your hands into his and rubbing them, trying to get the blood circulating again. “On the bright side, at the very least, he still sees you. I think he sees me as an annoying fly.”

You manage a shaky laugh, and Giyuu takes it as a small victory before making you look him in the eye.

“You’ll be fine, but if you need help,” he smiles softly and you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “These are just some things I’ve noticed when he tries to attack me…”

You blink, and you're back in the training room. Where were you just now? There wasn’t a room like that in the whole building. It was old, like the traditional Japanese houses you’d see on T.V. and books. But Giyuu was there, and so were you and the other Pillars, apparently. Your eyes find Giyuu’s face again, and he looks just as confused. Did he see that, too…?

“You know, (F/N), there have been moments where I feel like I’ve seen them happen before, especially when I’m with you,” Giyuu starts hesitantly. You wouldn’t think it weird, would you? “I know for a fact they haven’t, Shinazugawa and Kocho was proof of that, but they just feel so real. And I couldn’t explain them.”

You think of his words for a second - they were exactly what you felt - and nod for him to continue. “But now I wonder - I always push them away because I don’t remember them happening, but now that I think about it, just because they haven’t happened from what I remember, doesn’t mean they never happened, at all.”

“Don’t remember...but doesn’t mean they never happened…?” you whisper, the question you’ve wanted to ask threatening to break out. But looking at Giyuu’s eyes, the wall you’ve been building around to keep your thoughts in place are broken down. “...Like in another life...?”

The question hangs in the air for another second before Giyuu’s face breaks into a small smile and he lets out a small laugh. He turns away from you, and you’re left confused all over again.

“You should see the look on your face right now,” he says, and you turn red at the realization he’s laughing at you. “It’s priceless. Sorry, but you’re really cute.”

“You…!” you tackle him, straddling him and lifting him by the collar of his shirt. “Were you just making fun of me?”

Giyuu stares at you fondly, basically confirming your question. Your blush gets darker as you stand up wordlessly and pack up your belongings. You couldn’t believe he was just pulling your leg! And you fucking fell for it!

Your cheeks are puffed up in anger as you walk out of the training room. You hear Giyuu’s footsteps and his voice calling out for you, but you don’t make the effort to let him know you noticed him.

When you step out of the building, Giyuu finally catches up to you, holding on to your hand.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. You frown at him hard and he responds by raising his free hand in surrender. “I really am. Sorry for laughing.”

You pout, before returning his grip. You suppress laughing at the relieved look on his face. “You’re paying for dinner, I’ll have you know.”

The two of you walk in tranquil silence on your way to your favorite restaurant. You don’t notice Giyuu’s loving stare as you walk hand in hand. For a second, you’re both walking back from a mission. Your kimono and uniform were battered pretty bad, and you had a bruise at the corner of your mouth, but you look up at him and smile.

You turn to Giyuu in surprise when he suddenly squeezes your hand. “Giyuu…?”

“If it really was another life,” he whispers, and you had half a mind to tell him off for trying to pull your leg again. But at the misty look in his eyes - the same one you stared at earlier in the training room - you shut your mouth. “I’m glad I found you again.”

You smile softly, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah, me, too.”

[angelicmark]

STARS & DESTRUCTION (m)

pairing: eros!mark x bia!reader

genre: angst, smut, gods/goddesses, fluff

warnings: hand job over clothes, dirty talking. penetration. unprotected sex. riding lmao. he cums inside you btw.

eros is a god of sex, so there is explicit descriptions. bia is cruel in her own way and her thoughts are quite aggressive.

summary: so cold, so heartless; mark is unable to understand why he wants you as bad as he does. especially when you continue to torture him, letting him know just how much you hate him.

BIA: goddess of force, power, anger.

EROS: god of love, lust, sex.

you enjoyed this. you enjoyed the pain and the feeling you got seeing your opponent suffer in some way. it was exhilarating, knowing you had such power over the person in front of you who dared to cross you. it was such an amazing feeling.

your face was unreadable, “hello, angel.” your fingers danced across his skin, watching as he shivered in disgust. it made you snort, “you’re here, because?”

you waited patiently for his answer as he caught his breath, “i- i was sent to come get you, via orders from lucas.”

your brows furrow, making you scoff, “my brother, huh?”

the man in front of you only nodded his head, gulping. you just nodded, shoving him away from you and making your way to town. you could care less about anyone that wasn’t family in some way. you had no respect for anyone other than your brother at this point.

“you couldn’t have come yourself? you wanted me to scare the poor boy?” your eyes came across lucas, and he grinned in your direction.

lucas, aka kratos; god of strength. he sure was your brother alright.

“thought i was sending a present your way,” he shrugged his shoulders, making you chuckle a bit.

“what did you need?” you questioned, why in the hell he even sent the messenger.

lucas cleared his throat, “i need you.”

you raised a brow, “for once, you need your little sister?” you smirk, watching as he scoffed at your reply. lucas was always more kind hearted than you, so you were confused why he needed someone as cruel as you to do anything.

“you’re more heartless than me,” he pauses, putting papers away, “and a woman.” you were intrigued now, watching him carefully, “i want you to get mark.”

you almost choked on your spit, looking at him with huge eyes, “the fuck?” you glared at him. mark was eros, the god of love and lust. you were disgusted by the mere thought of even being near him. you had no interest in communicating with him.

“i need his union, Y/N,” he sighs, “this company isn’t going to go anywhere without him-”

you scoffed, “what? you need his good looks or something?”

“and kind heart,” he narrowed his eyes in your direction. you just smiled.

lucas was running a company for the gods and goddesses, trying to create a strong union of respect in case war was ever to break out. but it seemed lucas was struggling, because even though he was more gentle than you, he was still a god of strength, and he was still related to you.

you roll your eyes, “whatever.”

lucas makes a sound of victory as you walk out, “thank-”

“but i’m doing it my own way,” you smirk.

lucas’ blood runs cold.

as you stared at mark, you realized just how beautiful he truly was. he was almost ethereal, you were starting to wonder just how often he used that against people. but then he laughed, and you swore you just heard your favorite melody come right out his mouth.

you snort, of course. he was the god of love, someone you could never be in a million years.

you approach him, and he feels your strong energy. he makes eye contact, and you smirk. you could see the way he was looking at you; he was still the god of lust, after all, and you were still a female.

“mark,” you whisper as you reach him, and he looks at you with dark eyes, practically devouring you with his own two eyes. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention.

“yes, my love?” his voice was deep, but so soft. it was nothing you’ve heard before, and it almost made you sick to your stomach. you could feel anger bubbling up in your stomach, making your eyes a darker shade that could be mistaken as anything, especially in front of a god of lust. you see his lips twitch upwards.

you snarl in his direction, catching him off guard, “i’m not here to fuck you, mark.” your arms are crossed, and you could see the small tint of pink on his cheeks.

even if he was a god of such explicit things, he was so fucking shy. he had such energy of a boy sometimes, it would fool you that he was still a year older than you. you may be a minor goddess, but standing in front of him, you realized you could take him on any day. one look and you’re sure his dick would twitch.

“such a fucking baby boy, aren’t you?” you press a finger under his chin, making him look up at you. this was too damn easy. he lets out a soft sigh, close to a whine but no noise came out. it made you happy with his reactions.

he closes his eyes, “w- what did you want?” he steps out of your reach.

you didn’t like the thought of him stepping away from you, making you even more angry. you growled, “i didn’t say step away from me.” you tilted your head, “you just love pushing my buttons, don’t you?” you emphasize the word ‘love’, knowing damn well his position.

he adverted his gaze from you, “what do you want?” he mumbles.

you huff, letting it slide, knowing you’ll have all the time in the world to mess with him later, “i need you.” you repeat the words lucas had said to you, and you could see he was intrigued by the way his head whipped in your direction. you grinned.

“how so?” he was easing into the conversation.

you step closer, “if you don’t come with me, i’ll force you with me.” you voice was barely above a whisper as you and mark were face to face, his eyes unable to stop looking into your own dangerous eyes. “trust me when i say i have no problem with it.”

“is it lucas?” he questions, glancing down at your lips.

you lick your lips for him, “yeah.”

he squirms, wondering how you could be so tempting, even though you weren’t a goddess of temptation by any means. you were almost the opposite, chasing away every single person who even looked your way. it caught him by surprise by how badly he wanted you at this point.

as you stared at him, you wondered how many people he had been with his whole entire life. he was so elegant, so soft. it made you shiver in disgust by how gentle he was, because compared to you he was softer than velvet, and you were tougher than a rock.

you step back when you see him starting to lean forward, “you don’t seem to get my message,” you spit at him in disgust, “never in a million years would i ever want to be around someone as weak as you. i’m just simply here to bring you with me to lucas. i have no interest in you.”

he gulped, your words seemed to hurt. and you were so twisted, so hot and cold. he knew you enjoyed his pain, he knew just how cruel you were and just how much anger you held in your body. how could he be so fooled?

you were so raw, so unapologetic for your actions. sometimes he envied you and your ways, but he wondered if you ever even felt love. could you even feel an ounce of love? probably not, he thinks.

he just nods his head after a moment, and you smile at him in victory. you won this fight of power, and he knew just how much of an ego boost that was for you. but he could care less at this point. you were so intriguing, and he felt almost determined to know what went on in that mysterious mind of yours.

“good choice,” you grab his hand, leading him into your escort car.

as you both sit in the back, you could feel his eyes studying your every move. he was being very bold, and he knew he was. but he couldn’t help himself. you were something he so badly wanted to touch, but couldn’t. for once, mark was defenseless against a woman. he feared you, even.

the moment you reach lucas, his eyes turn wide as he sees mark standing right beside you. you knew lucas had his doubts, way too many of them in fact, but as he sees mark’s big bright eyes greeting him, he can only smile in delight.

“hello, mark. it’s a pleasure meeting you, finally after countless conversations on the phone,” lucas greets, holding his hand out with warmth.

mark shook his hand, wondering how in the hell he was even slightly related to you. “pleasure is all mine,” mark smiles back.

you scoff, not saying anything as you watch the two males converse. lucas can only talk minor details about where he stands right now, and mark nods his head politely.

“well,” mark clears his throat, glancing at you for a brief moment, “the least i can do is stick around.” mark smiles brightly, “considering your situation, i’ll accept.”

lucas celebrates, throwing his long arms around mark with a loud gasp of happiness. you could tell lucas was pleased as he mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ in your direction while hugging mark tightly. you just rolled your eyes, but you still had a smile on your face. yes, you were a goddess of anger, but seeing your goofy brother happy still brought you some kind of joy. you weren’t undead or completely inhumane.

“you won’t regret this, i promise.” lucas gleams as he pulls back.

mark chuckles, shaking his head softly, “can’t think i will.”

mark looks at you, eyes meeting yours. yeah, he definitely won’t regret this.

everywhere you went, mark just somehow seemed to be there. you were getting aggravated and annoyed on all kinds of different levels. the black haired boy looked at you with innocent doe eyes, and you were on the verge of screaming at him. he was having the time of his fucking life.

“i don’t know what the hell your problem is,” you rush up to mark, making the annoying boy nervous by your strong energy, “but i’m getting sick of it. everywhere i go, you’re there. it’s like you can sense wherever i am and you have to fucking follow me. jesus fuck, it’s annoying.” you sigh out, “you really need to find someone else to fuck, because i’m not going to.”

he coughs, choking on his spit, eyes wide. “w- what? holy shit, i never-”

you step close to him, your face not even a centimeter apart, “you don’t want to fuck me?”

you were so cruel. you knew he wanted to, so bad. you could practically smell his arousal a mile away. and, worst part is, he know that. he knows that you know how bad he wants you. it was embarrassing, that the god eros was craving someone so cruel, so intentionally cruel.

he only gulps, staring directly into your eyes. your eyes grew dark, and you loved the nervous look on his innocent face. he couldn’t be as innocent as he made himself out to be, there’s no way. he was the god of lust, sex, and love. there were so many more people before you, and apart of you felt sick at the idea of other people touching him that weren’t you. you were angry.

you scoffed, “you can get anyone you want. you’re a god of sex, for fuck sake. i’m nowhere near in your league.”

“what if i only wanted you?” he questioned, his head tilting as he moved even closer. you could feel his breath on your lips.

you raise a brow, “you sure love challenges, don’t you?”

he nods, eager for more of your responses, “for you? of course.” he was whispering his answers, wanting so badly to close the space between the two of you.

you back away, though, depriving him further of your touch. he only wished you would let him pleasure you, let him touch you just once. or have you touch him, how he so badly needed you, wanted you.

“you’re so easy,” you wave him off, walking away from him in a harsh manner. you were so powerful against him, he was intimidated, and yet he needed you more than anyone else. who else made him feel this way? no one. the answer was no one.

“Y/N,” he was breathless, reaching out to grab your arm.

you stopped in your tracks, feeling your whole entire body run cold at the mere touch. no one ever truly dared to touch you first, and you were starting to get pissed. you could feel your body boiling, your face heating up in anger. you yank your hand back, rushing towards him in anger. he backed against the wall, eyes wider than he’d ever had.

“you don’t fucking touch me.” you seethed, “i don’t want your filthy, dirty hands on my body, ever. you’re a disgusting excuse of a god, a fucking whore, a slut. you want my touch that fucking bad, huh?” your hand reaches down to touch his bulge in his pants, and he whimpers at the strong force.

you rub him, watching as he crumbles beneath you, “you’re so pathetic, rutting against my hand like some school boy getting touched for the first time. i thought you were the god of sex? where’s your big boy image now, baby?”

your hand squeezed tighter around him through his pants, and he yelped, his eyes fluttering close, “s-shit, fuck, Y/N..” he was out of breath, unable to keep in his noises. it all felt too much. this was the first time he ever truly felt like he was getting an out of body experience, already so close. “i- i’m gonna fucking cum, gonna cum, gonna.. cum.” he groans.

you smile, but it was a devilish smile, “already? you’re going to stain your jeans, angel. cumming all in them, begging for my touch. you gonna cum for me? me only, right?” you felt possessive of him, your hand quickening up its pace as your hand sneaks beneath his jeans and onto his boxers instead.

his breathing was uneven, his panting and moans louder than ever, “p- please, yes, only you. cum only for you.” his words barely made sense as they rolled off his sweet tongue.

“good boy,” you whisper in his ear, kissing it sweetly. you leaned back, watching as his brows furrow, his jaw tightening.

he could feel his release, coming so soon. “fuck,” he let’s out a long groan as your thumb rubs fast circles against his tip, watching as he crumbles into ecstasy. “fuck, fuck, fuck-”

he cums, his boxers not being able to hold all of it as some of it falls onto your hand. you hum, watching as he cums for you, making you feel so prideful at the sight of the older boy falling apart. he looks so spent, his hips softly rolling and riding out his high until he comes to a complete stop. his eyes are still closed, tears sweetly rolling down his cheeks.

he’s fucking spent.

you pull your hand away, looking at the cum covered fingers, “look, baby.” he opens his eyes slowly, still very hooded. “you made such a mess,” you chuckle, but quickly licking your fingers clean. he groans, feeling his knees buckle in his spot against the wall.

“don’t touch me ever again,” were your final words as you walked out, leaving him breathless, panting, and wanting more.

as days pass, mark’s eyes were still unable to stay off you. but, this time, you couldn’t blame him. you basically gave him the best hand job he was ever given, and now you’re telling him he can’t touch you? even you were starting to think you were cruel.

but you loved the desperate look in his eyes when he looked at you, practically begging you to let him have you. it made you so prideful, more than usual. and that was such a dangerous thing, in your eyes.

lucas has been keeping mark busy these past few days, torturing him even further as he was unable to constantly see you, and when he did see you it was very brief in a hallway. but his eyes would bore through your skin, making sure you knew he was there, making you feel his gaze.

“can you please quit the teasing already?” you hear a rough, hoarse voice. he sounded weak, desperate.

you turn around from where you were standing in your room, making you smile sweetly, “i’m not your problem solver now. i jacked you off, that should be enough for you. you’re lucky. don’t be so greedy.” you narrowed your eyes, enjoying the way he squirmed under your gaze.

he gulped, “what if i am greedy? what if i can’t get enough of you?”

you tick your tongue, shaking your head as you step close to him, “you’re such a needy boy, and yet you’re older than me. can you believe that?”

you were shorter than him, which made this whole situation more embarrassing for him. you tilted his head towards you, watching as his cheeks flush pink, his eyes turning glossy. you were so tempted to ruin him, watch him fall apart under your touch, and only yours.

“you’re mine, aren’t you?” you whisper, your lips just barely touching his.

he nods, fluttering his eyes close, “yes. all yours.”

just a few weeks ago, you have never imagined yourself in this position, standing so close to mark and almost kissing him on several different occasions. you despised him, but as the days passed by, you couldn’t help but grow somewhat protective over him. if mark wanted you, he had to sell his soul to you. he had to make sure he was to never look at anyone else but you for the rest of his life. he was yours. only yours to play with.

“good boy.”

you press your lips against his, and it’s way too soft for his liking. he wants you as close to him as possible, he wants to feel you. his hands stay by his side, although, unsure about touching you considering last time you told him to never touch you.

you noticed, pulling away from the slow kiss, “if you want to touch me, you can never touch another after me.” your words were so soft, but held so much power.

he shivers in the palm of your hand as you cup his cheek, “i promise, fuck, i promise.”

you lean back, watching as he looks at you with big doe eyes. he was such a sight to see, so pretty, you thought. you run your fingers through his hair, leaning back in to see the way his eyelashes flutter shut again. your lips are back on his again, but so much more rough. and he likes the feeling of having you so close.

your lips work against each other, moving so smoothly. he could feel his chest tightening more and more the longer the two of you kissed. he could feel his soul start leaving his body the more you tugged on his hair. finally gaining courage, he cautiously raises his hands to your hips, pulling your body flush against his.

your brain works on highwire, wondering just how many people he’s had like this before you. you growl in his mouth, anger and possession taking over your body. he pulls back for a breath, and your kisses trail to his jaw and neck, leaving love bites and making sure the world knew he was now claimed. he’s yours.

“such a pretty boy,” you whisper in his ear when he lets out a moan, enjoying the way your lips feel on him, “all for me.”

“only you,” he whispers back, the grip on your hips getting stronger.

you chuckle, leaning back to admire what you’d done. then your face falls, and he starts to worry. you could see the panic in his eyes as you move towards him, backing him up until he reaches the edge of your bed.

“Y/N,” he breathes, his voice already sounding fucked out.

“you’re mine,” you claim, pushing him down so he’s sitting on the bed. you crawl into his lap, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your ass. “no one else can have you. you were made for me, and me alone.”

you roll your hips against him, feeling his hard bulge against your clothed core. he whimpers, his hands getting tighter on you. you were truly going to be the ruin of him, he thought.

you lean up over his lap, making him eagerly try to place you back down on him, “please, don’t leave me like this, don’t-”

“i wasn’t planning on it baby,” you run your fingers through his hair again, seeing his glossy eyes staring up at you was such a powerful feeling. you were suddenly so soft with him, and he whined under you, allowing himself to fall under your power.

your hands go down to his pants, watching his reactions very closely. untying his sweatpants, you drag them down, seeing as he wasn’t wearing any underwear this time. you smirk, raising an eyebrow up at him. he looks at you with shy eyes, occasionally looking around the room as if that was more interesting than you at the moment.

“so dirty,” you hush, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “do you want me? want to fill me up with your dick and your cum? want to feel my tight walls wrapped around your dick?”

your words were so sinful, he could feel his dick twitching in the air. you chuckled again, looking down at his cock, “looks like he does.”

he nods, “please, please let me feel you. want to fuck you so bad, feel you on top of me, feel your hot heat..”

you couldn’t deny his words did something to you as you try to rub your legs together. he was so good for you, you couldn’t possibly say no now.

you get up from your spot before reaching your arms behind you and unzipping your dress smoothly. he licks his lips as he watches it fall from your body, seeing you completely naked already. you were so fucking beautiful, so soft to the touch.

“do you think you deserve it?” you tilt your head to the side in question, his eyes immediately silently begging you.

he quickly nods, “yes, please, i’ve been so good.”

you move back over his lap, your warm wet heat hovering over his dick, making him whine out a soft please again. his hands were on your hips again when you kiss him again, your tongue capturing his. you had him right where you want him, and you weren’t risking on wasting any second of this.

you rub your folds over his cock, and he lets out a low moan, unashamed of his noises. he was so noisy, a lot more than you thought. he felt so rigid and hot under you, his veins looking like they were about to pop any minute. you grinned that evil grin of yours, and he took it like a good boy. he would take whatever you gave to him.

“do you want me to ride you, baby?” you ask sweetly, adoring the way his eyes gleam under the soft light of the moon.

“please,” he nods, burying his face into your neck as you roll your hips again.

you’re silent, lifting your hips up and grabbing his cock to align him to your entrance. when the tip of his dick rubs against your walls, he whines again. you decided to end his torture, slamming your hips down against his forcefully.

“oh, fuck!” he yells out, his hands gripping your ass so tightly, you’re thinking it might leave marks. not that you mind. “so tight, you’re so tight, so warm, so wet. fuck..” he hums, biting down softly onto your shoulder.

he felt so good, filling you up so nicely. you let out a moan of your own, feeling him so close felt so good, and you felt so damn full. “so good, so full.” you let out, biting on his ear as you start to move your hips.

“fuck,” he curses, “please, keep moving, you feel so fucking good.”

and you do, raising your hips and falling back down with force. he felt like he was on cloud nine, feeling like he could do this for the rest of his life. you ride him, your walls clenching so tightly around his girth, he could easily feel himself cumming already.

“m- might cum, so close.. wanna cum in you,” he mumbles, his fingernails digging into your skin.

your own nails dig into his back as you pick up speed, “want your cum in me so bad, mark. want to feel you fill me up and watch as it drips out of my pussy. come on, baby, you can cum for me, right? you can fill me up to the brim, won’t you?”

he shudders under you, your words having such an effect on him he can feel his climax so soon, “fuck fuck fuck, gonna fucking cum, you’re gonna make me cum.”

you moan at his words, feeling your walls clench around him as well, feeling your own orgasm starting to ripple through your body, “fuck, mark. you’re gonna make me cum too, gonna make me cum all over your cock.”

that sends him tumbling over the edge, moans and groans escaping his lips very loudly as he doesn’t even try to cover them up. feeling him fill you up with his warm cum causes you to burst over, falling into his chest and breathing heavily as you whine out his name. he holds you against him, feeling your walls pulsating against his dick so deliciously as you ride out your highs.

once you’re both done, you sit there for a moment, your breathing settling down. you tug on his hair one last time before leaning back and giving him a soft kiss, praising him for how good he was.

still inside you, he looks up at you with puppy eyes, “am i really yours?”

you laugh a little, kissing his forehead, “all mine.”

you would never let him touch another person that wasn’t you. he was forever yours, and he had no problem being yours. just as much as he was yours, you were his. and you made sure everyone knew that.

he leans his forehead against yours as you finally pull him out of you, both of you gasping at the sensitivity. you lay down together, legs tangled, hearts twined together. mark changed your whole entire world, just by stepping into it.

“i love you,” he whispers.

you look at him, seeing his eyes close as he waits for a response. you smile a little, watching as his breathing starts to slow. never in a million years did you ever expect to say these next words to anyone, yet alone mark. never in a million years have you felt anything besides anger. but as you lay there with him, head on his chest and feeling his soft heartbeat. your mind floods, and your heart swells. because you have found your soul, your other half, your one and only.

“i love you, too, mark.”

and you truly meant it.

a/n: i hope the ending wasn’t too boring... lmao

[yer-cute-when-you-scream]

Witchcraft~ Lee Minho

WARNINGS: Fluff, Suggestive, Some Angst, Terrible Writing.

A/N: So I have had this in my drafts since the 13th, the day before my birthday. This is personal for me because my birthday has been something I’ve dreaded every year for the past 5 years. I was really in my feelings when I wrote this, rereading it, I sound very whiny lmao. Also the ending sucks, but oh well, you know?  I’m also hoping that if I post this, I’ll get some inspiration to finish my requests and stop analyzing ever detail about them. 

Family events weren't my favorite thing, I always felt forgotten, it's like no one would really care or even notice if I wasn't around. 

Sure, today is a family member’s birthday and I was invited, but I’ve never had people throw me a little get together for my birthday; except for one time, but a few people ended up fighting and it was just bad. 

My birthday is in just a few days too, no one has even asked me about it. From the back porch, I watch everybody laugh and chat away inside. Reminiscing their times together. I've never felt so alone. 

Originally, I was out here talking to my brother's girlfriend, she had to use the bathroom and she said she would be right back. Rather than return, she stood next to my brother and joined in on the conversation. 

Minho was in there too, though, he was helping with dishes, so I wasn't upset with him at all. The noise from them quickly died down, and the lights dimmed. 

”Is everyone here?” I heard someone ask, I waited for a few seconds longer to see if anyone noticed.  

”Yeah everyone is in here!” 

Not everybody. 

They all began to sing ’Happy Birthday’, Minho walked behind my sister as she brought the cake out, water splatters on his shirt from the dishes he washed, and a smile on his face that slowly left as he scanned the room. 

I stood from my chair when the candles were blown out, I walked off to the side, over to the railing of the balcony. I sighed deeply and stared off into the darkness, the cool wind hitting my face, crickets chirping in the distance. 

Two strong arms wrap around me and a chin rests on my shoulder, breath tickling my neck, I relax in the arms I know to be my boyfriend. ”Why aren't you inside Babe? I miss you!” Minho whines, his tone is playful, but I didn't miss the hint of concern. 

”You're the only one who actually seems to,” I sighed. 

”What?” Minho turns me around to face him, eyes plagued with confusion. 

”I’ve been out here waiting for my brother's girlfriend to come back...for 20 minutes, I look inside and see everybody laughing and reminiscing...” 

I took a deep breath before continuing. 

”Then they didn't even make sure I was in there for the cake, they said everyone was in there and just started singing! Nobody in there cares about me, nobody's ever asking about my birthday or anything. I just feel so left out and-” I rambled on, tears clouded my vision and Minho couldn't take the pain he saw in my eyes.

”Baby, Baby,” he started, trying to get my attention, I stopped and looked at him. ”Calm down, that's not true, they do care about you.” 

I shook my head and looked down, ”Can we just go home?” my voice came out small, Minho tilted my head back up. He gently kissed my forehead before nodding, we walk back into the house and I grab my bag from the couch. 

I turned to my family, they were all gathered at the dining room table, ”We’re gonna go, see y’all later,” I announced, slight waving to them. 

No one looks away from the conversation. 

I shoot a look at Minho before turning and walking towards the door. 

”Yeah, see you guys later.” 

Minho didn't even say it half as loud as I did, my sister turns around and gives a look of confusion. ”Aw, you’re leaving, Minho?” she asks sadly, tears escape my eyes and I grip onto my bag tightly. 

”Yeah, she's not feeling too well so we're gonna go home.” He says while motioning to me, I stood at the door, thankful that it wasn't well lit so no one could see my tears; except for Minho who stood three feet from me. 

”Why can't Minho stay? Can’t you drive yourself home?” 

”Because he's my boyfriend and I want him to go home with me,” I say through gritted teeth.  ”Way to ruin the fun,” I heard her mutter. Minho could sense the tension rising and came over toward me, I opened the front door and he walked out and waited for me. 

”Sorry, I tried to spare you all of my annoying presence by staying on the back porch, but next time I just won't come,” I snap back and slam the door as I walk out. Tears leave my eyes at an alarming rate and Minho quickly hugs me, comforting me and keeping his arm around as we walk to the car.  

The ride home was mostly silent, the soft vibrations of the car being the only thing filling the silence, our hands were entangled the entire time, Minho finally spoke up at the end. 

”I love you.” 

I quickly turn my head to him and give him a small smile, ”I love you too,” I replied. He brings my hand to his lips, kissing it softly before squeezing, ”I know your birthday is in a few days, but after tonight, I want to go ahead and give you one of your presents I got,” he said, I pause and look at him in shock. 

I’ve never really received much on my birthday, most of the time it was usually a gift card; which I’m not complaining about because I got to choose the gift. 

”You got me something?” I ask in disbelief, he lets out a chuckle as we pulled into our driveway and nodded. 

”Quite a few gifts, actually.” 

As we stroll into our house Minho turns to me and instructs me to wait, smiling as he walks off. I put my bag down and kicked my shoes off, patiently waiting for him to return. 

After about 5 minutes he walks into view, ”Ready?” he nervously asks, I smile and nod. He pulls me before him and covers my eyes, I softly giggle as he leads me further into our home. 

I anxiously await for what is about to come, excitement twists and turns in my stomach, his warm presence brings me to ease though. He finally stops me and kisses my cheek, ”Happy Birthday Baby!” He exclaims, his hands uncovering my eyes. 

My mouth is agape as I look around in awe, the living room has candles lit all around it, the aroma filling my nostrils with its sweet fragrance. The coffee table is adorned with my gift, the sleek black look of the record player is captivating, it looks modern yet vintage at the same time. 

The two albums that lean on it almost brings me to tears, both Frank Sinatra, one is his greatest hits, the other his Christmas album. 

The amount of emotion I feel is overwhelming. 

Minho stands next to me, watching my reaction to everything, ”Do you like it?” he asks, fidgeting with his fingers.

I look at him with tears threatening to spill, ” I don't know what to say, nobody has ever done something like this for me before. Thank you.” 

His smile grows wide and I pull him into me, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tightly. 

”You’re welcome Baby! I saw those Sinatra albums and I just had to get them because I know how much you love his music,” he tells me before kissing my cheek. 

After we pull away from each other, I walk over and pick up an album then set the record on the player before putting the needle on it. A smile spreads across my face as ’Witchcraft’ begins to play, I walk back to Minho and lean up to kiss his lips. 

”Dance with me?” I ask in a whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck as soon as he nods. 

His hands rest on my waist as we sway to the music, Minho grabs my hands and turns me a few times as he softly sings with the song. He caresses my bottom lip with his thumb, our swaying slowing as his eyes linger on mine. 

”Cause it's witchcraft, that crazy witchcraft...” His voice is low and soothing, his other hand travels down from my waist and slips under my dress, ghosting his fingers over my thigh. Goosebumps appear on my legs instantly; I shiver as I lean up to graze my lips against his before locking lips. 

A warm feeling spreads throughout my body as the kiss deepens, my fingers run through his hair and I feel both of his hands go to the back of my thighs. When I'm lifted into the air, I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him closer to me. 

Minho walks us into our bedroom, making sure for the rest of the night that I was loved and cared for, in more ways than one.

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

][Dae and Rhys for the ship headcanon meme (resent because my internet was stupid when I tried last night)][ 2 || 3 || 5 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 16 || 18 || 19 || 21 || 22 || 23 || 24 || 26 || 28 || 30

@blind-mutant

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

Dae is always thinking that Rhys can do better with someone who can actually touch him but normally some very filthy and unfiltered words from Rhys gets Dae into a flustered and beaming mess.

3. Who is the most romantic?

Rhys is and he revels in it when he sees how melted Dae gets at the slightest gestures. Brings Dae a rose and tilts his head for a kiss through a tissue during their early days and did not expect Dae to warble and cry.

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

I would say Rhys but once again my heart screeches for Rhys explaining what types of love there are and what it is, only for Dae to think and nod before telling Rhys that he's been in love with him for a very long time now.

7. What do they get up to on a night out?

I imagine they go out rather rarely since Rhys wants to have Dae's face out rather than the prosthetic, but Dae is always happy to go to ice cream places with Rhys or loves going shopping so he can buy cute and sexy clothes he really wants to see Rhys in. Sjjsjs Buys Rhys more leather because he likes certain stuff, okay?

8. What do they like in bed?

Rhys loves it when Dae goes for what he wants and loves feeling the revered hands trailing down his hips and the almost shy way Dae pulls him closer to grind against him. Loves how Dae shyly asks Rhys to keep wearing the mesh shirt and leather pants during sex and once even asked if he could keep wearing combat boots because oh boy he likes how mean Rhys looks.

Dae adores it when Rhys is so honest about what he wants and loves it when Rhys trails fingers just at the edges of his diamonds because that's where he feels it the most. Adores rough palm touches to his vulva and secretly likes it when Rhys slaps his hand against it because its rough and humiliating.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

Rhys tried to help Dae with chores once and proceeded to shrink the clothes down bu accident. Dae didn't laugh in front of Rhys but Rhys immediately heard the giggly choking that Dae calls laughter when he calmly tells Rhys he's stepping out for a few minutes.

Dae tried on Rhys jacket once when he wasn't home but then he stretched and his back ripped open and whoops, suddenly Rhys's jacket was ruined and stuck to his back. Cried and tried to hide it but eventually Rhys found out and had to help cut it off him. He was sad then but now? Rhys laughs about it and loves it when Dae whines.

11. What do they hide from one another?

I feel like after a while, Rhys starts to hide any needs he might have due to not wanting Dae to hen him. He hides bad things as well as more negative thoughts, such as the beginning thoughts about Peach and the whole fact of Iris and having to chase after some half alien lady. But that will change when Ava comes to see them and stands over Rhys in his sleep.

Dae hides a lot of his past and to add angst to our power swap thread? I'm imagining that Dae secretly signed ownership of himself to Iris so technically in all the time they were dating? Rhys owned another person and oh boy wouldn't that give Rhys doubts about whether Dae loved him or simply belonged to him. Hides so much about his past and the fact that he remembers more about his life than he let's on.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Rhys often speaks more softly to Dae and is willing to hold him a bit rougher while Dae is more willing to take breaks from work and is happier about letting Rhys touch his open skin.

13. When do they realise they should get together?

Probably when Dae is just happily discussing going to the market to get more medical supplies and rambling about this really cute duck slide and then Rhys just kinda has a lightbulb moment over how domestic this is and how he wants this kind of domesticity more often. More where he can wrap his arms around Dae's waist and sway their hips together and kiss.

14. When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Dae is so happy, as bad as that sounds. He revels in being able to make Rhys anything he wants, buying all sorts of medication and trying to tempt Rhys into taking a spoonful of medicine and then after that making him hot chocolate or some broth and telling Rhys a story from one of the worlds' Dae served in. He will, literally watch Rhys sleep to make sure he's safe in the night.

Dae...is ehhhh. Refuses to let Rhys near him while he's sick and refuses to be in the apartment while he's sick. Verges onto body horror when you think about how much damage being sick combined with diamonds does to his body. Lets Rhys give him stuff but Dae gets upset at the very idea of possibly hurting Rhys. Would only stay near Rhys if he was so sick he couldn't stand.

16. When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

Dae is ready to use his powers to take control of the zombies tbh and I feel like for this he'd finally twist himself into a full diamond form. Seeing as most zombie movies leads to power going out in cities, I imagine they would kind of end up pulling a Poison Ivy in Arkham city where they have an abandoned building together that's shrouded in shadows and has zombies with diamonds in them stumbling around on guard.

They'd do pretty damn well.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

Dae is immediately cleaning all of Rhys's clothes after he's done crying and stuttering apologies and his apologies usually last two weeks while Rhys is just as mushy and soft but honestly when they're used to each other he just drags Dae by the front of his pants to the bedroom to cuddle and more.

19. Where do they go on their first date?

They go to a botanical garden and Dae is delighted by the giant plants and all of the colours while Rhys gets to enjoy the humidity and listen to the thirty plant facts that Dae memorized before they came and feeding the koi fish. Dae buys a cactus because it reminds him of Rhys and Rhys watches in horror as Dae smooches it in front of him. He's never been so jealous and intimidated in all his life by that display.

21. Where do they get nervous about going with one another?

Dae gets nervous about going anywhere with Rhys. He's ugly and Rhys is...wow. so it's a big "do you want to be seen with me, I can walk five miles behind you" thing. Rhys probably feels rather nervous about taking Dae to new places because Dae has so much hope written on his face and really builds places up for himself so that trip to the ice cream shop??? Rhys just nervously sweating when Dae is sparkling his eyes.

22. Where does their first kiss happen?

It happens in the middle of the night when Rhys and Dae have just gotten back from the movies (aka nice dark place where Dae can take the mask off and they can cuddle). Rhys pulls up Dae's scarf and they just gently press up against the wall and it's a gentle and soft kiss, but Dae still sighs happily Rhys gets to know what he's the only one who gets to have this romance and closeness with Dae.

23. Where is their favourite place to be together?

They love being in the park where they first met. It always feels so special and romantic when they can relax and laugh together and at one point Dae suggests buying a sex swing to recreate it at home and Rhys chokes.

24. Where do they first have sex?

At home and in bed because Rhys wants - needs - it to be special for them after his own awful experiences and Dae's clinical experiences. I know we had those mini threads but honestly Dae would need some medical equipment in case his skin tore and clothes would have to be worn just in case. He's worried it feels awful to Rhys, having to have sex while dressed and being so careful but he's never prepared for how delighted Rhys is at being the first to touch his diamond.

26. Why do they need to have a serious chat?

Rhys really needs to get talking about how desperate Dae tries to please him and why exactly he feels the desperate need for it. Dae himself needs to try and talk to Rhys about how loving a man who can't touch isn't some sort of out of teach turn on, that it isn't as easy to turn off the thoughts of the line between servant and lover. Dae wants to know how Rhys got past his own pain of the past because maybe that can help him too.

28. Why do they get jealous?

Dae gets jealous over everything with Rhys. He gets jealous over how the man can easily tell someone to fuck off and how at ease with flitting while I'm having a soft heart attack over Rhys being jealous of Dae's powers in the early days before he finds out just how painful they are and that Dae is prepared to never touch another person again. I'm....sad at Rhys being jealous at Dae not feeling stuff anymore cause maybe that's how he wanted to be for many of his early years?

30. Why does it work (or not work) between them?

It works because Rhys introduces so many new things to Dae and he's the biggest light in Dae's life and Dae is also real good for letting Rhys have a point in his life where he can focus on more positive stuff but it also doesn't have a chance to not work due to how suffocating Dae can be and how uncomfortable Rhys could be due to having to be near toxic people like Iris and a literal toxic boyfriend lmao.

[omgrachwrites]

May Queen (Loki Laufeyson)

Pairing: OC x Loki

Summary: Astrid, the princess of Vanaheimr relocates to Asgard to seal a betrothal to the youngest prince. She soon finds happiness and a multitude of new friends. Unfortunately treachery and deceit lie in the court of Asgard in unlikely places, and she learns that true love never dies.

Warnings: lil bit of fluff, angst, character death

Word count: 2340

A/N: Sorry this took so long guys! There will be a second part to this chapter, sorry that this one is a bit dark lmao! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

Part Six - The Poisoner

It had been the darkest and most torrential day that Vanaheimr had known for years and years, perhaps even before the Winter Kings had knelt to the Spring Queens, it was as if the mortals had prayed to the Rain and Thunder gods for a good old thunderstorm. The shopkeeper grumbled and groaned, at this late hour he was just losing gold if he kept his shop open for much longer. The shopkeeper rather thought that the gods owed him a sufficient amount of gold, perhaps he should go knocking on the door of the palace – where the Asgardians had taken up residence for the moment – and demand his gold from the young prince Thor. Though, that would be a death wish, his fellow villagers had heard tales of his great temper when he was challenged.

Just as the shopkeeper was about to twist the key in the rusty lock, a figure appeared almost as if it was out of nowhere and it gave the shopkeeper a fright. He thought twice about letting the hooded figure in but the way they were pounding on the glass it seemed to the shopkeeper that they were desperate to get in so they must be a paying customer. He opened the door and let the mysterious person in. In the dim candlelight of the shop he could make out strands of auburn ringlets and the faint glimpse of emerald eyes outlined by a dark blue.

The shopkeeper saw so little of the face that he wasn’t sure if it was a man or a woman – though he guessed it was a woman – and he would not be able to pick the face out of crowds.

“I am very sorry to disturb you at this late hour good sir,” the voice was a mere whisper but the shopkeeper was sure that he’d never heard anything sweeter, it was like the music of birds chirping on a clear blue summer’s day.

“Not at all my child, what can I do for you?” the shopkeeper led the woman to a seat by the fire so she could warm herself but she never removed her hood which struck the shopkeeper as odd but he didn’t put too much thought into it.

“Well, it’s my father you see,” her voice suddenly cracked it sounded like it was full of tears, “he’s very sick and he’s in so much pain. I was wondering if I may procure some Wraith Venom to ease his passing painlessly.”

Suddenly, the hood made sense, Wraith Venom had been outlawed years ago and it was an offense to the crown to buy it or sell it – for the shopkeeper old habits die hard. The shopkeeper hesitated, in small doses it would indeed cause a painless death but use too much of it, it would cause massive blood loss through the nose and eyes and it caused a painful death within mere minutes.

“Please sir, you’re a good man, I can tell. It’s my father’s last wish, to join my mama in the eternal land of beauty and song. Don’t make me drive a dagger through his heart,” the woman’s pleading was so pitiful that the shopkeeper acted against his better judgement. He wondered what his wife would say before he recalled that she had passed some years ago now.

The shopkeeper gathered the small vial of poison and gave it to the poor girl, “remember, do not use too much, and mix it with honey and warm milk.”

“I’ll remember,” The girl promised, “I thank you sir, you are truly very kind,” the girl left with a kiss upon his cheek and a coin in the flat of his hand. The shopkeeper’s hand closed around the cold coin and he stood motionlessly, staring out of his shop window long after the girl had gone, unknowing that that sale had just sealed his fate.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The endless rain and wind battered the thick paned glass of the window and Astrid awoke with a lurch, shivering though she was covered in many thick blankets and there was sweat upon her brow. She’d had an awful nightmare, the first one that she remembered having since the death of her father – she hoped they weren’t coming back. She rested her head in her hands and tried to recall the dream.

She remembered a feast hall that she’d never seen in Vanaheimr before, it had been beautiful but hauntingly so. Astrid saw herself in a beautiful blood red dress and a golden crown encrusted with rubies on her curls, she was clutching at her throat as she coughed up blood. There had been another person too, a figure dressed in a pure white dress that looked like flowing water and a black lace veil covered their face. The mere memory brought cold terror to her heart and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out.

“Mara? Mara!” she cried out and within moments her handmaiden ran into the room, a look of panic on her face and as soon as she saw Astrid’s terror stricken face the girl threw her arms around the princess. Astrid clutched at Mara and openly sobbed into her night clothes as Mara stroked through her long hair.

“What happened?” Mara asked against Astrid’s hair.

“I had a nightmare that somebody was trying to kill me, it sounds silly but it seemed so real,” Astrid sniffled.

“It’s not silly, and mark my words; nobody is going to hurt while I’m around my lady. I promise you that,” Mara’s words made Astrid smile and for the first time that night she felt completely safe.

How long they sat there for Astrid could not say but it was long enough for her to decide that she should at least try and get some sleep. She smiled at Mara as she crawled underneath the covers. As Mara got up to leave, Astrid took her hand, “will you stay with me, please?” when Mara nodded with a smile Astrid moved aside so that Mara could get underneath the covers.

“Sleep well my lady, we’ve got a full day tomorrow.”

The thought of what the following day promised made Astrid smirk just a little, what tomorrow brought would be a fruitless effort and the princess pitied her mother, “yes, let’s see what the day will bring Mara.”

Unfortunately, sleep did not come as easily as the princess thought; she was more awake than she thought. Sighing, she flung herself from her bed and padded towards her balcony, thankfully the rain had stopped. She was merely looking over the quiet lands until she heard a crash in the room opposite hers – Loki’s room. Moments later he had flung open his own balcony door, Astrid saw that in the moonlight Loki’s skin had a sort of blue tinge to it and she must have been seeing things but his eyes looked red. He certainly looked troubled.

“Can’t sleep either?” Astrid shouted from her balcony across to Loki’s, he started a little but smiled when he realised it was her.

“Not a wink,” he laughed, making Astrid smile, they had both made good on their promises to be better. Try as she might she could not ignore how handsome he looked in the silver of the moonlight.

“Are you coming to supper with my mother and I, along with some guests on the morrow?” she asked before she could stop herself. At her question Loki quirked an eyebrow, a sly smirk spreading across his face.

“I don’t know my lady,” he smirked, “am I invited?” he chuckled and Astrid rolled her eyes playfully before she made her meaning clear.

“I would very much like it if you would come. With me,” she blushed and Loki put on a thoughtful face before he gave her a cheeky grin.”

“Well, you only had to say so my lady. I’d be honoured. Goodnight princess.”

Astrid smiled and blushed prettily, “goodnight Loki,” she bade him as she retreated back into the shadows of her dark bedchamber. Sleep found her much quicker and she found herself falling asleep with a light heart and a smile on her face.

The next morning she broke her fast alone with her mother – Mara had already eaten. It seemed to be a quiet affair, Lord Arne and his entourage were coming for supper, he was coming to court the Queen. Queen Eira would go along with it to be seen as polite but soon enough she’d spurn them – just like she had done with all the other suitors since Astrid’s father had died. Astrid could not see this time being any different. All was silent on the balcony – they had taken to eating their meals outside in the warm weather – though the atmosphere was pleasant until Eira spoke up.

“Tonight when we sup with Lord Arne, you will have a taster present; you need to start acting more like a princess. You are of royal blood and an assassin could be around any corner and I mean for you to live my darling,” Eira knew that Mara hated having a servant taste her food but unknown to the princess, a taster was present in the kitchens but they now needed to be present at all meals, especially when they would be entertaining company.

“Who was it who decided that our servants’ lives mean nothing? I must give them my thanks,” sarcasm laced Astrid’s voice and Eira sighed.

“Not nothing, just less than yours my dear,” Astrid scowled at her mother, “and you would do well not to speak to me that way in the presence of our guests.”

“I don’t like this mother, but you don’t care do you?” Astrid complained, “as per usual,” she muttered.

The Queen ignored that slight and she seemed very much inclined to change the subject, “are you and Loki getting on well together? After all you’re going to Asgard in just under a month.”

“I’ve invited him to supper with us,” Astrid murmured, poking at her slice of cold meat, she didn’t feel like eating anything, “can I not go to Asgard sooner?” she asked and a hurt look crossed Eira’s face but Astrid chose to ignore it.

“Sooner would be too soon, you are my daughter, my only child,” she muttered more to herself, “I’m glad that you and Loki are getting on, I’m proud of you.”

Well, that’s certainly a first, Astrid thought bitterly as she sullenly stared at the Queen, thankful that soon she would be in Asgard.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Loki panted as he blocked another blow from Thor, rather well if truth be told – there were not many things that he hated but fighting was one of them. Though it was the only way to release the strong emotions that he was feeling and it sort of felt good to fight. Pushing the sweat soaked hair out of his eyes he noticed the colour of the sky that was beginning to turn a light pink.

“I need to go Thor,” he panted, “Astrid will be having supper soon and I can hardly go like this,” he chuckled, gesturing down at himself. He had seen Mara earlier in the day and she seemed to be upset that she wasn’t invited to supper but strangely she soon perked up when she heard that Erik and his wife Arna would be attending before they left to live on Erik’s estate on the morrow.

Thor winked and smirked as he lowered the tourney sword that they were fighting with, “good luck brother.”

After Loki had bathed and dressed himself he made his way to the dining room, looking splendid in robes of green. As he took a seat next to Astrid and kissed her cheek he noticed that she looked very beautiful in a gown of dark blue silk that was adorned with a star embellishment on the bodice. The first course of the supper went by without incident – apart from Lord Arne terribly flirting with Queen Eira who was clearly fighting the urge to laugh. Loki and Astrid exchanged smirks at the interactions.

Loki noticed that Astrid looked very uncomfortable every time her taster – Kari – tried a bit of the meal before giving it to the princess but by the time the last course was arriving she had visibly relaxed. She even linked her little finger through Loki’s. As the last course was being set on the table Lord Arne was entertaining the table with stories of his children, everyone was laughing and the wine was certainly flowing.

The laughter was interrupted by an unforeseen sound, Astrid’s Kari was coughing. At first it seemed innocent enough but at second glance Kari’s eyes were getting more red as her coughing went on.

“Kari?” Astrid asked nervously, placing her hand on her taster’s shoulder, pearly tears already welling in her eyes. Kari’s coughing stopped and it now sounded like she was trying to get her breath back as blood streamed from her eyes and nose.

Queen Eira shouted frantically for the healer but even as the command left the Queen’s mouth the girl had slumped down onto the table. It was like everything was happening in slow motion, Astrid tried to wake the servant up as Lord Arne heroically came over to help, and he placed his dagger beneath the girl’s mouth to see if she was still breathing as he checked for a pulse.

After a couple of minutes, Lord Arne sighed and looked at the Queen, “she’s dead.”

Quickly the Queen ran to her daughter and shook her roughly by the shoulders, Loki was about to interject but he fell silent by a look off Astrid. Something about this just didn’t add up.

“Who knew that you were using a taster tonight?!” the Queen demanded, Astrid shook her head as tears streamed down her pasty cheeks.

“Nobody, I told nobody!” she shouted, then fell silent as she realised what it meant. It hadn’t been a gesture to merely scare the princess. It had been an attempt on her life.

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@theonelittleone @void-imaginations