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nightwishesworld · 4 years ago

Note

hello! do you think you could do a chapter with fem!reader whose afraid of thunderstorms and wakes up in the middle of the night because of it but doesn’t wanna wake alcina so she just stays awake but the storm goes on for like a week and this keeps happening until she notices and comforts you through it by like cuddles or talking you to sleep to distract you from it :)

Oh my god I hate the way this came out. My brain just could not process this for some reason. I also couldn't make it as long as a week, my apologies.

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

One dark evening at Castle Dimitrescu a storm rolled in. Relatively speaking, it was quite harmless and most of the inhabitants of the castle were unbothered by the storm.

Except you.

Late into the evening, whilst most were asleep, the storm was at its strongest - the crackle of thunder rolling through the halls as flashes of lightning illuminated the darkest corners of the room. You were trying to sleep, honest, but just as you felt the drowsiness of rest come to take you - a loud crack of thunder would jolt you awake and paralyze you with fear.

You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing rapid.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and hugged your pillow close to your chest. Resisting the urge to run and hide in the closet like you used to do as a kid was becoming more and more difficult.

Another flash, another boom.

You knew it wasn’t logical, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching or jumping as the sounds of the storm roared outside. It was just so loud and you could swear the castle was shaking with it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, white-knuckling the pillow held tight against your chest and humming a song to yourself in order to distract your brain.

The sound of constant rain was suddenly accompanied by heavy hail falling, and that’s when the thoughts started charging at you full force.

What if the lightning strikes the castle? What if the castle collapsed? Did it have the right infrastructure? What if-

“Stop it, God. Stop it!” You begged your brain but to no avail. Your mind kept generously providing you with possibilities and images you did not ask for.

Another loud boom and this time you couldn’t help the cry let out before clapping a hand over your mouth and diving under the blankets.

When you didn’t hear anything for a few minutes you felt it safe enough to come out of hiding. Thankfully the vampire slumbering next to you wasn’t disturbed by your pathetic cries and whimpers. She had a rough day dealing with a very pissed off Mother Miranda and needed rest and relaxation as much as she could possibly get.

You forced yourself to lay still on your back and focus all your energy on controlling your breathing. That was the key to saving yourself a panic attack. You don’t know how long you were staring up at the ceiling, but dawn eventually came and your partner stirred from her sleep.

She would have been happy to see you if not for the redness in your eyes and puffiness surrounding them, obvious signs of lack of sleep.

“Are you alright, draga mea?” She wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

You didn’t answer, even though you knew Alcina wouldn’t just drop the question. She was sweet and caring like that, which is probably why you never had the heart to tell her how much of a coward you actually are.

“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

“Nightmares,” you rasped, trying to focus on Alcina more than the low rumbling outside. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.”

She looked as though she didn’t accept that answer but quickly hid any doubts behind a warm smile. “If you’re sure.”

It felt wrong lying to her. You had never felt the need to hide anything from Alcina before, but this was just embarrassing. She’d probably laugh at you told her you were still afraid of thunderstorms.

The day progressed with relative normalcy despite the occasional sounds of rumbling. Alcina busied herself dealing with the mountain of paperwork on her desk for Mother Miranda and the girls were running amuck in the basement. Depending on which room you were in you could hear their laughter below you. Their mischief down there has always been a mystery to you, even now after living in the castle a couple of years. You knew what they were doing, but couldn't fathom the idea of enjoying it so much. You did find it rather disturbing that their torturing frightened you less than a stupid thunderstorm.

You huddled in the back section of the library behind the bookshelves so you couldn’t see the lightning out the windows. The loud rumbling still had you on edge, but a good book is always a welcome distraction. It worked so well, that you didn't hear Daniela approaching. You practically jumped three feet in the air when she was stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Daniela asked, her voice was stern, but it also had a concerning tone to it. She had dropped her bag, keeping the knife at her side. Your breathing was heavier than usual as you tried to think of what to say. It was more than embarrassing to tell Daniela the truth. You knew for a fact she out of everyone in the castle would laugh at you. "You scared me,"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Dummy, I mean what's really wrong?"

You shrug and turn the page of your book. “Nothing.”

Another boom. You couldn’t fight off flinched.

“Oh, I think I get it. You’re afraid of-”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes tightly. Daniela wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. You watched as she cautiously sat back down. The redhead sat in front of you, the rain somehow sounding even louder than it had before. You looked over at Daniela, feeling the embarrassment creep upon you.

Daniela started at you with a rather confused expression, resting her arms on her knees. “Out of everything we’ve been through,” she began, “everything you’ve seen us do. Everything that goes on in this castle just below your feet,” she paused. “And you’re scared of thunder?”

You sat silently and twiddled your thumbs.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you whisper. “It’s not important. You’re only going to run off and tell everyone.”

Daniela rolled her eyes and picked up her bag, headed once again for the basement. “Whatever, y/n, have it your way.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening shuffling around the library hiding from the white flashes. It was only when Daniela came to fetch you for dinner that you left. Luckily you were eating in the kitchen instead of the larger Dining Hall. The kitchen is much more manageable; marginally fewer windows to see the lightning. The meal carried on as it normally would; the girls boasted about their successes in the basement, Alcina discusses all the work she got done today and complains about the work she put off for tomorrow. It was almost enough to take your mind off the chaos happening just outside the windows. Almost.

The storm carried on just as confidently throughout the evening and into the night. It showed no signs of relenting, which in turn meant another sleepless night.

You wasted no time stripping your clothes and crawling into bed, back to the open windows. Alcina didn’t think much of it, simply chalking it up to being exhausted from the previous night’s lack of sleep. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did feel like you were ready to sleep for the next 24 hours. But you knew the storm wouldn’t allow you that luxury.

Pressure against your back and an arm wrapping around your midsection snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I hope you sleep tonight, my love.”

“Me too.”

An hour later and you were still wide awake listening to the rain being pelted against the windows. An anxious voice whispered impossible scenarios of the rain breaking through the windows and lightning striking you down in the safety of your bed. You tried your hardest to not toss and turn as to not disturb the woman next to you. She's not asleep yet, you can tell by the lack of snoring, but her breathing is starting to even out. You were curled up on your side, back to Alcina. She wrapped you in her arms, her chest against your back and arm across your waist. "Dove..." she whispered in your ear. "Y/n... "

"I'm sleeping, Al." You murmured snuggling further into the vampire’s arms, your eyes still closed.

"No, you're not." She stroked your side absently. “Are you sure you’re ok? You aren’t falling ill are you?”

You sigh. “No, I’m not getting sick. My body is just too exhausted to relax.”

Alcina hummed, burrowing her face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll stay up with you for a while.”

“You will not. Go to sleep Al, I’ll be fine. You had a long day yourself, one of us should be able to sleep."

"Why don't we go sit in the Drawing Room or the Library? I'll hold you in my lap and read to you." God no. Way too many windows. "Goodnight, Alcina." You feel her sigh against your skin, pushing a few stray hairs around. "Can I do anything?" "Stop worrying, it's just insomnia." "I'll stay up with you then. You shouldn't be up all by yourself staring at the ceiling." "I'm not alone, Love, you're right here with me. Asleep or not I'm still in your arms, and that helps a lot." You feel her smile against your neck and pull you closer against her front. "wake me if you need anything."

You actually slept fairly well; only waking up a few times to have Alcina soothe you back to sleep. Being tucked away in her embrace did a world of help, but you still woke up hours before Alcina did. Her eyes fluttered open and focus on your groggy face. She frowns.

"Did you sleep at all?"

You smile and kiss her lips. "Yes, I actually slept a lot better last night than before."

"Good," she pulls you back to kiss you again.

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

Later in the afternoon Bela and Cassandra invited (dragged you really) into the Drawing Room to play a game of cards.

Everything was going really well. You were laughing and playing with the girls like everything was as it should be in Castle Dimitrescu.

You were made astutely aware of the situation outside again when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. There was another flash and clap of thunder, this time loud enough to make Cassandra flinch.

You abruptly shot up from the table. “Sorry. I need a minute.” You rushed down the hall into one of the guest rooms. Cassandra and Bela shared a confused glance and watched as you hurried away. They’d never seen you so flighty and nervous before. Neither could tell what was wrong.

They laid on the carpet and silently counted to sixty before following you to down the corridor.

“Y/n?” Bela softly knocked on the door. “It’s been a minute.”

There was no response. More thunder. Bela frowned. “We’re coming in, okay?”

She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n?” Cassandra called, stepping further inside and glancing around the room. The sisters checked under the bed, then under the covers, even under the shade of the bedside lamp. Then Bela peered out of the rain-soaked window for good measure. Where else could you be?

Just as Cassandra decided she was stumped, she heard a rustling from behind her and a muffled, “I’m in here.” She turned around in confusion because the only place they hadn’t checked in that direction was…

They crept over to the closet and carefully slid open the door. The girls smiled when they found you sitting on the ground, curled up with your head between your knees. “Playing hide and seek now, are we?” Bela said. “Next round I call being the— um, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, staying right where you were. “Sorry.”

“S-Sorry for what…?” Cassandra crouched down beside you. The closet almost had enough space for the three of you to fit.

“Y/n, please. Something’s obviously bothering you, can’t you tell us?”

All three of you startled as another flash of lightning cut into the room, followed by another growl of thunder. You tightened your grip around your legs. Bela’s jaw dropped.

“It’s the storm,” she said, half a question, half a statement. “You’re scared of thunder?”

“It’s childish.”

“Oh, y/n…”

“I’m weak. Something as dumb and simple as loud noises shouldn’t make me so—”

“Y/n. Look at me.” Cassandra’s gently stern tone convinced you to move your head so your chin rested on your knees. You side-eyed the girls, trying to imitate your usual stoicism. It was difficult with red-rimmed eyes.

“A phobia doesn’t make you childish, or weak— do you know how many people have a fear of thunder, y/n? A lot of humans.”

“A lot of Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans as well,” Bela chimed in.

“And are you going to go around insulting them? No, Y/n, because that’s not nice. So don’t insult yourself for the same thing.” Cassandra waved around her index finger as she spoke. Your eyes widened and followed the movement. Both girls laughed.

“Is that what’s been giving you nightmares?”

You shake your head. “I just haven’t been sleeping; too tense.”

Cassandra giggled. “Just ask mother for extra cuddles, not like she’ll say no.”

“Or a more intimate distraction,” Bela winked.

Both sisters giggle at the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Can we sit here with you?” Bela asked, already taking the vacant spot on your right.

You shrugged— as much as you could in this balled-up position. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s ok y/n, we don’t mind.”

They sat on either side of you, Bela holding your hand, enjoying the comfortable silence that cast over you.

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

A loud crack of thunder jolted Alcina awake. Cursing to herself she eyed the clock across the room–2:06 am. Raking a hand down her face, she jolted again when another crack of thunder echoed through the castle. It wasn’t a minute later that an insistent downpour of rain started pelting the roof and windows followed by an angry howling of the wind. You stirred next to her in the bed. You were mumbling in what sounded like a mix of Romanian and English. Alcina swallowed thickly because she knew what that meant; another night terror. She laid back down and curled herself against you, cocooning herself against your back. Alcina placed a few stray kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck, smoothing her hands along your hipbone in the process. You calmed after a few minutes, your mumbling returning to the steadying breaths of deep sleep. Alcina sighed in relief and closed her eyes in hopes that she could drift back to sleep.

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Alcina sat up on the bed and saw you still appeared to be sleeping, though you looked somewhat agitated. She reached over and attempted to run her fingers through your hair but all that succeeded in doing was causing you to jolt awake.

You woke up with a strangled yell and starting crawling out from underneath the sheets. You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing and heart rate rapid. Alcina crawled over and realized you were having a panic attack. “Y/n, can you hear me?” You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started leaking from the corners. You clamped a hand over your mouth, and Alcina realized you were trying to silence your breathing. “Honey no, don’t do that, just focus on me,” she pulled your hand away from your mouth slowly. You shook your head and tried to take your hand back. “No no no... I can’t- I-I-I can’t wake Al-Alcina,” you gasped. “It’s alright, Dove, just follow my breathing.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths to demonstrate. You started calming down slightly. “That’s it, everything is alright, just keep breathing.” You seemed to calm down more with the breathing exercises. “I’m going to get you a glass of water“ Alcina started to say, but was cut off by you grabbing her arm. “No! Don’t-don’t lea- don’t leave, please, don’t- don’t” you closed her eyes, her breath quickening again. “Sweetheart, breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Alcina took your hand and put it on her chest. “Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Your breathing returned to normal. After sitting in silence for a bit, Alcina turned to her.

“Another night terror?” She asked. You looked away for a minute, ashamed of yourself.

“No.”

God, you probably woke her up, good job.

Alcina couldn’t keep an amused smile from forming. “Can my little dove not sleep because of the thunderstorm?”

As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning crackled down from the sky. The following rumble of thunder seemed to shake the castle. You let out a whimper and shielded yourself from the sky. “How could I possibly sleep when it sounds like the sky is falling?!”

Alcina hums and pulls you close against her. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy fear, Dove. It brings out the human in you.”

“UGH! Just-!”

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Another shriek, barely muffled by Alcina’s shoulder, had you violently trembling. You were barely holding yourself together.

Wracked with terror, eyes shut tightly, you found yourself unable to prevent the reflexive compulsion to cling to something nearby.

Which, in this case, was Alcina, who was left staring in shocked silence at the violently trembling form with arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She immediately wrapped her arms around you again and began rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Calm down. You’re fine,” She spoke softly, ignoring the buzz under her skin as she soaked in the unwitting embrace like a dry sponge in water. Soothingly, she rubbed up to your shoulder blades. “There we are, my love,” Alcina chuckled. “I’ve got you. Listen to my voice,” She rumbled, speaking soft but firm as the thunder forced smaller tremors through the floor. “You’re going to relax. I’m going to help you. Just lay here with me and close your eyes. I’ll hold you all night if you want me to.”

Gradually, the sound faded and petered off back into the loud patter of rain against the windows but Alcina held you tightly still. She could feel the flutter of your heartbeat against her own, almost impressed that you hadn’t passed out from fear alone.

“Why didn’t you say anything? The storm’s been going on for days now you must have been petrified.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” you mumbled into her neck. “It’s a pathetic fear I’ve had since I was a kid. I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“You think something as trivial as a phobia would make me think less of you?” She pulled you even tighter against her. You melted into her embrace. “Clearly I haven’t been a very good partner to you.”

“No Al, it’s not like that. Gods, you’re an amazing partner. It’s just my stupid insecurities. You’re all so fearless and brave. You’re not afraid of anything, and then there’s me; tiny, inferior, afraid of a little thunderstorm.”

She sighed and continued rubbing circles on your back. “I’m not fearless.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff. “What could the great and powerful Alcina Dimitrescu possibly be afraid of?”

“Death.”

You wriggled out of her arms just enough to turn and face her. “What? But, you’re immortal. Death isn’t really something you have to worry about.”

She gave a small smile and brought a hand to cup your face. “I never said my death, sweet one.”

Oh...OH

“The girls are clever, they can get themselves out of most situations unscathed, but still, we can be slain. And there have been some pretty close calls in the past. And you,” she rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “Your death is inevitable. It gnaws at the back of my mind every time I look at you. Every time morning I have to untangle myself from your embrace I remember that one day I’ll wake up alone and wish I cuddled with you for just a bit longer."

"Al, I didn't-"

"I can't always be there to protect you, including the girls. If I could take the brunt of all conflict for you I would gladly do so, but that's unfortunately not how life works. I'm just left worrying until I know for sure you're all safe."

She hummed into your neck and kissed your pulse point. "How selfish of me, I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around. If I paid more attention I would have known, I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t apologize, just hold me.”

Alcina kissed the top of your head. “With pleasure.”

Soon enough you did fall asleep again, your arms still clinging tight around the vampire’s upper midsection. Alcina found a comfortable enough position and allowed herself to drift away as well.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady Alcina #tall vampire lady #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years ago

Text

Bloopers

Word count: 2150

Warnings: tickling, fluff

Ok, this one is a little different than the others I've written; it's about the actual cast (specifically our fav British actor Mr. Hiddleston 😉)

* * *

“And… cut! Alright, let’s move on to the next battle scene then.”

The voice of the director echoing through the set snapped you out of your thoughts. You stood up and stretched a little, preparing to film the first scene of the day that you’d be part of. Script in hand, you joined the other cast members on the set for the scene briefing.

It still felt surreal that you had actually gotten to this point. You had signed up for an audition the moment you’d heard this role was open, figuring you could at least get some exposure by trying out for a big-name movie like a Marvel movie. As an up-and-coming actress, you needed all the exposure you could get. Never in a million years did you think you’d actually land a part in the movie, let alone the role of a supporting character.

You were trying desperately to get over being star-struck by the actors and actresses you were working with. They were all surprisingly down-to-earth, nothing like you’d expected from such famous stars as these. The moment you’d arrived on set, they had welcomed you with open arms as they had all the cast members, no matter how small their role was. They’d been trying to get you to relax a little, to see them as friends and coworkers rather than A-list celebrities. And you were trying – really trying – but you were still pretty shy and reserved off-set.

“Ready for your first shoot of the day?” Chris Hemsworth asked as you approached the crowd of cast members standing in the middle of the set.

“Uh… yeah, I think so!” you replied uncertainly. You glanced down at the script in your hands. This particular scene didn’t have many lines, as it was mostly an action scene, but those were the scenes you tended to struggle with. You had gotten good at getting into character when you had to have conversations, but you really had to think hard about how your character would move in battle.

“Come on, you have to say it like you mean it!” he chided, grasping your shoulders in emphasis. “Try again – are you ready?”

“Yes sir!” you shouted. He laughed heartily, releasing you with a final pat on the shoulder.

“Alright, it may be a battle scene, but you aren’t a soldier. We’ll work on it.” The flowing crimson cape of his costume swished along the floor as he turned to find his place in the circle of cast members. You followed suit, slipping into an opening right beside Tom Hiddleston. He glanced at you with a warm smile, which you returned timidly.

“He can be a bit overenthusiastic sometimes, can’t he?” Tom whispered. You nodded, looking across to where Chris was now casually twirling his hammer by the strap on one finger. “He is right, though. I’m certain you’ll do just fine. Give yourself a little credit.”

“Thanks,” you said appreciatively. You turned to face the director as he reviewed the upcoming scene.

It was a pretty standard fight scene by Marvel standards. Your character was battling alongside Thor and Loki as the villain attempted to slip past your defenses to gain access to Odin’s vault of magic artifacts. Magic, explosions, weapon-swinging… the whole works. There were a complex number of camera angles included in the scene, which meant a lot of stopping and restarting of filming to change position.

Physically, this type of scene was exhausting. It required a lot of ducking, jumping, and running, not to mention a LOT of falling. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go home with a few scrapes and bruises after this type of active scene. Like Chris and Tom, you insisted on doing your own stunt work. It wasn’t like you were jumping from buildings or anything like that; you knew you could handle this yourself.

“Ok, next clip!” the director called out, prompting you to prepare for the most difficult part of the scene. In this part, your character is standing a bit too close to an explosion and is thrown backward into Loki, who catches you before you fall backward onto the ground. You stood still as the stunt crew hooked you up to the wire that would yank you backward.

“Nervous?” Tom asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“A little, maybe. Is it fun, being dragged around on the wire?” you inquired.

“It’s a bit like riding a roller coaster. Except… you’re not in a cart, and you may crash into things.”

“Hmm. Comforting.” He patted your shoulder firmly a couple of times before walking past you to get into position for the shot.

“Alright, y/n, we’re not going to count down for you – we need a genuine element of surprise in this scene. Got it?”

“Understood,” you confirmed. Your heart was racing with adrenaline, anticipating the moment you would feel the rope tug you backward. Not to mention, Tom was going to be the one to catch you. Your heart fluttered a bit more at that thought.

It felt like minutes went by, although it was probably only seconds. Suddenly you felt the harness under your costume tighten around your waist as the wire finally pulled you backward. True to character, your arms flailed out as your heels slid backward across the floor for a millisecond before Tom caught you, sliding his hands under your outstretched arms to hold you up.

The sudden gentle pressure of his fingertips under your arms tickled like hell. Your knees buckled a little and you yelped in surprise. Tom lowered you to the ground, giving you a moment to rest after your first take.

“The fall was perfect, y/n, but try not to bend your knees like that when Tom catches you. Remember, you’re supposed to be a fierce warrior; your character would jump right back up to their feet,” the director called from off set. You avoided Tom’s gaze as he helped you to regain your footing.

“Did I hurt you? You shouted when I caught you,” he asked, concern weighing in his tone.

“No! Nope, I’m fine, sorry. Just got nervous. First take and all, you know?” you responded quickly, trying to hide your blush.

“Understandable. I recall the first time I was pulled down to the floor by a wire during the infamous ‘Hulk smash’ scene…” he chuckled. “I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you.”

You set up for a second take, this time heart pounding for different reasons. How embarrassing would it be if Tom found out what really happened there? You needed to focus more this time.

This time, when the wire grew taught, you were at least prepared for the swooping sensation in your stomach as you slid backward. Once again, Tom caught you right on cue, his hands lifting your upper body up from under your arms. It still caught you off guard how much it tickled. You let a giggle slip out and went limp in his arms again, nearly causing him to drop you to the floor.

“Cut!” The director walked closer to you and Tom so you could hear him better. “Don’t forget – don’t bend your knees. And it’s probably breaking character to be grinning like that after getting launched by an explosion.”

“I know it’s fun doing stunts and all, but you have to think like your character even during the action scenes,” Tom advised, helping you up off the floor once again.

“It’s not that! I just… never mind,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burning again. Tom raised his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, ducking down to catch your gaze as you stared down at your feet.

“Promise. I’ll get it this time,” you assured.

You both set up for take three, this time determined you would get it completely right. You gritted your teeth, trying to envision the actual explosion they’d be adding with CGI later. The wire tugged, and you flew backward once again into Tom’s waiting arms. You almost maintained your composure, until he started to pull you to your feet, fingertips digging into the hollows under your arms. You shrieked, letting out a few more giggles as you stumbled forward to evade his fingers.

“Cut!” You steeled yourself and turned around to look at Tom, who was giving you a confused look. You shot him a look of apology.

“Am I missing a joke? Did Hemsworth put you up to something?” Tom asked, placing his hands on his hips, a grin tugging at his lips. Even after you ruined the take three times in a row, he only used the kindest tone with you. You couldn’t lie to him.

“No… I just… when you slide your hands under my arms to catch me, it… it sort of tickles. A lot,” you mumbled sheepishly. You risked a glance up from the floor to look at Tom, whose eyes had lit up with understanding.

“Ahh! Now it all makes sense!” he exclaimed. “Well, I do apologize; it was not my intention to tickle you. I’ll try not to this take.” He shot you a mischievous wink, not unlike his character.

“Thanks… I’ll try to keep my composure this time,” you promised.

The director shouted additional directions and reminders to you as you set up for yet another take. As you got into position, you turned your head to look at Tom standing behind you. He grinned at you, although you couldn’t tell if it was a smile of encouragement or a mischievous smirk. Maybe it was the costume…

The wire tugged you backwards once again, and the outcome was the same. Tom even tried to catch you closer to your upper arms, but the sensation was still too much for you to handle. A rapid stream of giggles bubbled from your chest as your muscles weakened once again. Tom was laughing with you this time, though, now that he knew better.

“You did that on purpose!!” you exclaimed, spinning around to face him once you’d regained your footing.

“On purpose!?” His mouth dropped open in mock offense. “You think I did that on purpose?? Come here, and I’ll show you ‘on purpose.’” You shrieked, spinning around to run away, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could get very far. He tugged you backwards, trapping you against him in a bear hug.

“Wait!! C-can’t we talk about this?” you begged.

“Sorry, no can do.” Before you could protest further, Tom’s fingers were digging into your ribs, eliciting a startled squeal from you. He laughed out loud at your overzealous reaction. “Mahaybe… eheh… maybe this will help you get all the giggles out, hmm?”

“No, Tom, wahahait!!” you begged, folding into yourself and twisting around to break his hold without success.

“I apologize, my dear, but this is for your own good. Can’t have you continuing to mess up these takes, now can we?” His fingers darted up and down your sides and ribs, and your knees buckled beneath you, sinking to the floor. Tom followed you down, still holding fast while he continued to skitter his fingertips over your belly.

“Stahahap!!” you pleaded, grasping feebly at his wrists as laughter poured out of you.

“Now, honestly, y/n – this is supposed to be a battle scene and you’re laughing like a schoolgirl,” he teased, wrestling to hold you still while he continued to torment you. “How are we going to get through this scene if you don’t start taking it seriously?”

“THEN STAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHE!” you retorted, yelping as his hands spidered higher up your ribcage.

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Tom wrapped one arm further around your ribs so he could pull your arms up, giving him unrestricted access under your arms. He scribbled maddeningly gently at the hollows, making you explode with uncontrollable laughter.

“OK! OK! IHIHI’LL GET IT RIGHT THIS TIHIHIME!!” you shouted. Deciding you’d had enough torture, Tom finally released you from his hold. You took a moment to catch your breath before looking up at your fellow castmates, who were smirking at you, much to your dismay. You felt heat rising to your face as you picked yourself up off the floor, turning to face a grinning Tom (who was looking more and more like Loki by the second with that mischievous gleam in his eye).

“Well then! I’ve had my fun for the day,” he announced casually.

“Thahat was so mean!” you groaned. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you in a one-armed hug for a moment.

“You know you loved every second of it,” he teased.

“Shut up, you,” you muttered, pushing him away jokingly. The two of you got back into position to try the take again.

This time, you got it right. Because honestly, nothing could have been worse than the torment he’d just put you through. But, if you were being honest with yourself, he was right - you had loved every second of it.

#not sure how to tag this one #loki tickle #ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #tickle fic #marvel tickle #ler!Tom Hiddleston

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

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For the Past Four Years

You and Colson have been friends forever, but when you start getting lessons from a certain drummer, he gets a bit jealous.

Request: Sooo I was just wondering if a jealous!coulson whose your friend would be something you’d like to write? Maybe y/n and yungblud or rook or someone is getting a little too friendly and it makes him angry either fluff or smut would work tbh

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N I am so sorry this took so long! This is the one I was talking about when I said I got to the end and wasn’t feeling it so I rewrote it.

Word Count: 2019

You hated being the only one in the crew who couldn’t go on tour. The travel interfered with your job too much, so you were left alone for months out of the year. But that made it all the better when you could join the tour. You were grateful for the two weeks off you were given while Colson was on the Hotel Diablo tour.

You flew out to their show in Phoenix and planned to stay on the tour bus with them until they got back to LA. The boys were ecstatic to have you around, having known you for almost 4 years. Colson was probably the most excited to see you again, seeing as he had known you the longest.

You were in the green room for the fifth show since you’d join the tour, the energy through the roof. Colson was busy talking with Ashleigh about the show, so you found entertainment in Rook, who was currently tapping away on his practice kit. “Ok, guess this one.”

You were currently trying to figure out what songs he was playing, and you were doing pretty good. He started playing the intro to “You Could Be Mine” by Guns N’ Roses, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. ”Really? It’s like you’re trying to make this easy for me.”

“It’s not my fault you know literally every song ever made.”

“Yeah, but Guns N’ Roses? Obviously, I’m gonna know it.” You smirked and he squinted at you.

“Fine. You’re so good, why don’t you play something and make me guess.” He held out his drumsticks for you to take.

You pouted, “Rookie you know I don’t know how to play drums.”

“I can teach you.” He offered, making your eyes light up.

“Wait, actually?” He nodded, standing up and grabbing another stool.

“C’mere.” He led you around the kit and sat you down, sitting on the stool behind you. He put the drumsticks in your palms and then moved to hold the outside of your hand. “We’ll start with the basics.”

When Colson came back into the room, he saw you and Rook laughing. You were looking back at Rook as his hands were wrapped around yours, a smile on your face. He couldn’t help his heart sinking, and he tried his best to maintain his composure. Luckily, he only had to endure a few more minutes of you guys obviously flirting before everyone had to move to side stage.

You noticed Colson slumped on one of the couches across the room and you sent him a smile. “Rook is teaching me how to play.” You mouthed to him, and he nodded sarcastically.

“Good for you.” He mouthed back, obviously uninterested and upset about something. You raised your eyebrow and tilted your head, silently asking what was wrong. He just shook his head.

“Alright guys, backstage.” Ashleigh announced, and all the boys jumped up.

Rook stood up and you followed, handing him his drumsticks. “We shall continue this later, young grasshopper.” He joked, bowing dramatically. You rolled your eyes and pushed him towards the door of the green room.

“Don’t suck too much.” You smiled, and he turned back to stick his tongue out at you. Colson watched the interaction and it looked like steam would start blowing out of his ears. You bounded over to where he had just stood up. “Good luck hug?” You asked sweetly, a tradition you had started the first time you went backstage before a show.

Instead of answering, he walked right past you, leaving the room. You stared after him, confusion present on your face. You wanted to talk to him about it, but decided it was best to leave it for after the show.

Colson seemed to be in a better mood on stage and after the show, insisting on partying on the bus. You had no complaints; you loved the endless party that was touring with MGK. Once you got on the bus, however, his mood seemed to drop all over again. You didn’t really notice it at first, a bit distracted by the loud music and the other guys. You loved spending time with them, they were as much your family as Colson. But your good time was spoiled by Colson sitting on one of the couches scrolling through his phone with a drink in his hand.

You didn’t want to have fun without him, he was your best friend, after all. So, you walked over to him, reaching your hand out. “Come dance with me.” You smiled, which he did not return.

In fact, he barely looked at you, just took a sip of his drink and said, “why don’t you go dance with Rook since you like him so much.”

You were taken aback by his comment. “Umm, what?”

“You heard me. If you like Rook so much why don’t you go dance with him? Why don’t you just sleep with him while you’re at it?”

You took a step back, offended. “I don’t know what your problem is right now, but either talk to me like a grown up or get over it.”

Colson sighed, standing up and grabbing your hand to drag you to the back of the bus, away from the crowd. He opened the door that separated the bunks from the rest of the bus, leading you in and closing it behind you. You waited for an explanation from him, but he just stood there, glaring at you.

“Okay, what the fuck is your problem, Colson? I’ve been here for all of a week so I don’t exactly know what I could’ve done.” You tried to keep your voice quiet, but your tone was still sharp.

Colson’s tone stung just as bad. “Oh right, because you haven’t been flirting with Rook ever since you got here. I mean seriously could you make it any more obvious?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Okay, one, I’m not fucking flirting with anyone, much less Rook. Two, even if I was flirting with him, or anyone for that matter, it’s none of your fucking business.” Colson had a habit of doing this; anytime you started talking to a guy, or even just dancing with one at a club, he made sure it stopped immediately and you were fed up with it.

“It is my business. He’s my bandmate and you’re my best friend. If you two hook up or do anything, guess who’s caught in the middle? Me.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose that’s why you’ve run off every other guy I’ve tried to do anything with?”

He stepped towards you, eyes getting darker. “So you were trying to get with Rook?”

“Oh my god Colson, no!” You let out an exasperated groan, “I’m just saying you have a pattern of getting in between me and literally any member of the male species. Rook and I are just friends, you know that. And I would never put you in a situation like that.”

He stepped closer to you, standing over you now. "Maybe I just don’t think they’re good enough for you.” His voice got quieter, but you weren’t backing down.

“You’re supposed to think that. That’s what friends are for. But that doesn’t mean you get to get in the way of every potential relationship I have.”

“Stop saying that fucking word.” His voice got deeper, darker.

You furrowed your brows, confused and a bit nervous at his tone. “What word.” Your voice came out quieter than you expected it to.

Colson sighed and hung his head, backing away from you, “forget it.”

He turned so his back was facing you, running a hand through his hair. You watched him carefully, studying him. “What word, Colson?” You pushed him.

He rubbed his face with his hands, letting out another heavy sigh. “Did you ever stop to think about why I didn’t want you to get anywhere with those guys?” Your heart seemed to stop beating for a second, and your shoulders fell slightly.

“N-no.” You stuttered, walking towards the man, who was still turned away from you. “Colson, I’m really confused right now.” Your voice was soft. You reached out to touch his arm, but he spun around before you could.

His hand reached out to tilt your jaw up, so you were looking into his eyes. You expected him to be angry, but there was something else instead. His face was really close to yours, enough that you could feel his breath on your nose when he spoke. “There’s a reason I don’t want you to flirt with Rook, or with any other guy for that matter.” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and you took a sharp breath as your heart fluttered.

“Colson-“ You started, but he cut you off.

“Just let me finish, please. I have to say this or I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.” You stayed silent, your eyes begging him to continue. “I don’t want you to be with anyone else. Fuck, Y/N, it hurts like hell to see you flirting with other people because I want you to be flirting with me.”

You smile, trying not to giggle. “And I realized when I left for tour that I’m kind of really in love with you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips onto yours. His hands wrapped around your waist as his lips moved against yours. When you pulled away, he placed his forehead against yours, eyes closed. “I’ve kind of been flirting with you for the past 4 years, loser.”

His eyes flew open, head moving away from yours. “What?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I’ve kind of been really in love with you for a long time.” You mimicked his earlier words. “You never said anything about it so I just assumed you didn’t feel the same way.”

He let out a breath through his nose, “God I’m so dumb.” You giggled, shaking your head and pressing your lips against his.

“You are not, you’re just a little oblivious.” He rolled his eyes, pulling your hips closer to him and kissing you again, longer this time. He started leading you backwards, so your back pressed against the wall of bunks lightly. One of your hands moved to rest on his cheek and the other played with the hair at the base of his neck.

The kiss deepened, his tongue swiping against your lips. You granted him entrance, his tongue slowly exploring your mouth. His hands began to move down your waist. They were about to reach your butt when the door opened and Dre walked in. “Oh shit,” He paused, looking between you two and slowly smiling. “About time you fuckers got it on.”

You buried your head into Colson’s chest, a blush on your face. “Duuuude.” Colson groaned, his head falling backwards. “Get out.”

Dre chuckled, hands in surrender. “In my defense, you guys are the one making out in a tour bus full of people in the bunk room.”

If looks could kill, Dre would have been murdered by Colson by now. “Okay, I’m leaving. But just know I’m telling everyone about this.” He smiled, quickly leaving, and closing the door behind him before Colson could hurt him.

You laughed, pulling the man back to you and connecting your lips to his, a smile on your face. “I’m gonna kill him.” Colson mumbled against your lips.

You rolled your eyes, “As hot as that would be, society generally frowns upon killing your friends.” He chuckled and pressed another kiss to your lips, his hands reaching up to cup your face.

“Wait, would you still like me if I was a murderer?”

You giggled, “Depends on who you kill, but probably.”

He pecked your lips, “What if I killed Rook?” You glared at him, and he smiled. “What? I’m just asking in case it happens.”

“You’re not allowed to kill your band members.”

“So if I kicked him out of the band and then killed him, it would be okay?”

“Colson Baker!”

“Kidding!”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #jp cappelletty #rook cappelletty

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wildlyglittering · 3 years ago

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The Perils of Being Mr. Nesta Archeron

It’s important you understand this is my incredibly poor attempt at comedy and I just wanted to write some nonsense.

This popped into my brain after seeing all the posts about how awesome Nesta is and how she had a ridiculous amount of marriage proposals and interest from human men, fae males and demons alike.

I just kind of took it from there...

***

“I still like what Nesta’s done to the place.”

Feyre looked around the grand drawing room of the House of Wind, her dozing son on her lap and her bored mate at her side who murmured something which could be taken as an agreement while pulling off imaginary pieces of lint from his sleeve.

The House was now Nesta’s, in as much as anything sentient could truly belong to anyone, and as such was rarely used for official Night Court business. Its predominant function was as home to Nesta, Cassian and a reluctant Azriel, who’d been gifted the responsibility of ‘supervisor’ – a gift which Feyre suspected he’d like to return.

The Inner Circle still held Starfall at the House and, like now, the High Lord and High Lady of Night, would visit. When she visited alone, Feyre visited in the capacity of sister and friend but when with Rhys, it was all work.

Nesta and Cassian had embraced their titles as the Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death and their combined reputations proceeded them sending them into every corner of Prythian and the many dark outer reaches was a tactic Rhys now employed.

The aim was to achieve negotiations and encourage peaceful surrenders where necessary but if there was resulting collateral damage, it was of little consequence to Rhys.

The other reason that the House was seldom used for official Night Court business was the unnerving issue of the House itself. Whilst the majority of the architecture remained unchanged there was the occasional surprise addition. Or subtraction.

Amren discovered the House’s penchant for the latter when, on one uninvited call, she opened a door which should have led to private chambers only to find herself plummeting through the air onto the ground. She swore blind the House foundations quivered like it was laughing.

Feyre wondered how independently the House acted from Nesta and how much it carried out her wishes. She suspected that this room, the grand drawing room, had been one of Nesta’s heart fulfilments or, at least, something for Cassian.

The room was sizable, entered from the hallway via a series of doorway arches wide enough for splayed Illyrian wings. Oversized plush furniture filled the room and the floors were strewn with thick sable rugs.

The most spectacular draw to the room was the window which stretched from ceiling to floor and from wall to wall on the side opposite the doorways. The view, one across Velaris’ golden rooftops and shining turquoise waters of the Sidra, filled the space like a painting.

Feyre sighed, at least this current visit was expected and so they weren’t risking the windows opening of their own accord to fling them out. The occupants of the House had been gone for longer than anticipated on this task and so Rhys sent ahead a message that he wanted a full debrief when they returned.

Feyre opened her mouth to speak again but stopped when she heard the thud of boots and flutter of wings.

“Finally,” Rhys said with a glance towards Nyx whose eyes flickered open.

“He’ll be happy see Aunt Nesta,” Feyre said in a sing-song voice to her now awake baby, turning him so he could view the entrance. “He loves Aunt Nesta.” She wasn’t above using her infant son as a tactic to avoid her eldest sister’s potential irritation at the intrusion into her home.

Rhys eyed up the shaking walls, “Yes, as does the House.”

Nesta entered first and Feyre breathed a sigh of relief that the floor remained solid underneath where she sat.

“Hello,” Nesta said, her voice soft and cooing. Her welcome wasn’t to her sister or brother-in-law but to the now beaming baby in Feyre’s lap whose legs and arms flailed in the air as he wriggled.

Nesta stepped further into the room, treading over the rugs, arms outstretched, “Come to Aunty Nesta.”

The vast windows let in the bright sunlight, sunlight which illuminated the state of the Illyrian leathers Nesta had clad herself in.

Feyre shrieked, twisting in the chair and blocked Nyx from Nesta’s grasp, pointing at her sister’s waist. “What is that?””

Nesta paused and frowned, looking down.

Aside from the interesting splotches of red across the leathers, the utility belt tightened around Nesta’s waist contained the usual items Feyre expected; knife, pouch, knife, another knife and then... another item she hadn’t.

A leather strap was wound in multiple knots around the thick band and tied to an uneven, lumpy dome the other end. The lumpy dome ended in a stump clotted with congealed blood.

“Oh,” Nesta said with a shrug, “I forgot.” She untied the leather strap and pulled the lump away. “Just another one for the collection.” With a graceful arm movement, Nesta threw what Feyre realised was a decapitated head onto the floor where it landed with a thud, a dribble of blood oozing fresh from the neck wound.

“Well, you can’t hold the baby until you’ve washed your hands. Thoroughly.”

Nesta frowned at her, an ice-cold glare fixed on her face. “Fine,” she snapped, as though Feyre’s request was unreasonable.

Cassian, unlike her sister, had taken some time to remove his blood encrusted leathers before greeting his guests, and he wandered in through the arch with a nod of his head towards Feyre and Rhys.

His hazel eyes noted the bloodied head by the door and he released a sigh.

“You need to stop doing that.”

“The House doesn’t mind.”

The shutters covering the windows in the other rooms started to clatter up and down.

“See?”

“Yes, but I mind and besides,” he gestured across to Feyre, “an infant is present.”

Nyx, now bouncing on Feyre’s lap, slapped his hands together as hard as he could in time with the House. He gazed at Nesta as though she’d sliced her way through necks especially for him.

“He doesn’t care,” Nesta said in a sing-song voice eerily similar to the tone Feyre herself used earlier. She beamed at her nephew, “He’s clapping with the House.”

Rhys’ face turned white, “The House is applauding you?”

“Oh yes,” Az said, arriving at last and pushing his way through where Cassian and Nesta stood to flop down onto the armchair next to Feyre. “Nesta always gets rapturous applause when she brings home a kill.”

Feyre glanced from Azriel, legs sloping over one armrest while his head flopped across the other, to Nesta and then onto Cassian who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“As much as I am ecstatic to see you all,” he said, “I’ll leave Az to deal with the debrief. I need to go lie down for a while.”

Cassian exited as swift as he entered, Az not bothering to open his now closed eyes. The concerned glances of the other room occupants followed Cassian’s retreating back.

Nesta turned back to Feyre, the ice-cold glare melted away. “Excuse me while I disappear.” Then, in a heartbeat, her expression was one of joy, “Bye-bye baby, I’ll see you in a little bit for snuggles.”

Nyx let out a small sob as Nesta left and Feyre quickly turned him towards her, readying him for a feed, knowing that the small sob would turn into a loud shriek.

“Well,” she said, “she obviously prefers Nyx to me.”

“Feyre, darling – you got spoken to,” Rhys said. “I think it’s safe to say Nesta didn’t acknowledge my existence. Which I’m fine with,” he added, nervously eyeing up the House’s stone walls, “whatever makes her happy.”

Nyx, thankfully, latched onto Feyre’s bared breast and for a moment no noise sounded in the room other than his greedy milk-hungry gulps.

A thought played over and over in her mind though; Nesta’s look of concern, Cassian’s uncharacteristic broodiness. “Are they ok?” she asked Az, at the same time Rhys enquired as to how the recent mission went.

Az’s eyes fluttered open and he gestured to the head on the floor. “As you can tell – we won.” Then, his voice gentler, he turned to Feyre, “They’re fine.”

“Is Cassian upset at the violence? At Nesta doing the um...,” and using her free hand Feyre motioned across her throat with a finger.

Az laughed, such a rare sound it reminded Feyre of the bells on Solstice evening. “Not at all. He likes that she does those things it’s just-”

He paused.

Rhys, satisfied that the mission went well and not caring about anyone’s romantic woes, settled back into the loveseat while Feyre leaned forward, careful to not disrupt her feeding son.

Azriel nodded towards the head, “Before the Anguis went the way of Hybern and the Kelpie, he managed to propose.”

“Not another one!”

“Don’t worry,” Azriel said, “I’m sure Nesta is reassuring Cassian of her love as we speak.”

As though cued up with expert timing, or, as Feyre suspected, the House lifting a self-imposed sound barrier to prove a point, the thumping drifted down to the grand room from several floors up.

“That was...fast.”

Suddenly Azriel appeared just as exhausted as Cassian had. “Nesta reassures Cassian of her love at least twice a night anyway, and when she’s done reassuring him, he feels the need to thank her back.”

Feyre winced, her face contorting into one of displeasure while Rhys didn’t try to hide his smirk. “This is what – the fourth proposal? Fifth?”

Az closed his eyes and dropped his head backwards once more. “Ninth. This isn’t the worst we’ve had.”

Nyx snuffled and Feyre moved him to her other breast. “Wasn’t the first in the Winter Court?”

They’d been in Winter for the naming ritual of Kallias and Viviane’s baby and once the ceremony was done, all guests mingled in the palace hall. The High Lord and Lady of Winter stood on the dais, draped in silver and grey, Viv beaming as she held her pink cheeked daughter.

The music, food and wine flowed freely but Feyre could barely hear the former over the laughter of the high fae and the chime of glasses as toast after toast was declared. The Inner Circle members had dispersed throughout the crowds earlier, all intent on seeking their delight in various forms.

Feyre had seen Nesta on the dance floor for the opening songs but she’d long since gone and Feyre wondered if Nesta and Cassian had snuck away to take advantage of the Winter palace’s numerous private bedrooms.

She had done her duty as High Lady of Night, walking around the hall, ice blue gown sashaying around her legs as revellers congratulated her on the arrival of her own child.

Feyre had smiled and thanked them but she tired easily after Nyx’s traumatic birth and it wasn’t long before she sought out the fur-decked chaise longue tucked in one of enclaves on the far wall.

As Feyre made her way towards it, movement from the corner on her right drew her attention.

Nesta was standing by another enclave, glass in hand, virulently shaking her head. Nesta’s golden-brown hair had been braided into a complex knot adorned with diamonds which caught the fae lights and casted shapes on the ceiling. It had been this that captured Feyre’s eye.

“No,” Nesta said, “I don’t think so.” She smoothed down a non-existent crease on her dress, a pale grey-blue that shimmered like mist over ice, ever changing.

The male she was speaking to was some high-ranking courtier from Winter who Feyre had been introduced to earlier that evening but whose name escaped her. He was tall and handsome enough, gazing at her sister with sapphire blue eyes, but Nesta’s demeanour suggested nothing other than sheer boredom.

Cassian emerged from the crowds, seemingly drawn to what was happening in the corner of the room like a moth towards a flame, his body screaming nothing but fury. Still, he interjected himself between Nesta and the Winter male with a decorum Feyre felt he should be proud of. His fists were clenched and his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth but there was no violence. Yet.

Feyre moved quickly to them.

Side by side there was no contest that Cassian was the larger, broader and less refined male. He wore scuffed Illyrian leathers and the most he’d done for the event was clean his hair and tie it back.

The courtier wore ivory silk brocade strewn with pearls and viewed Cassian up and down with a sneer.

“And who, exactly, are you?”

Cassian spat out his answer, “Her mate and husband and your executioner – you are?”

“Ah yes,” Rhys said. “The naming ball. Was it just the one dance Nesta performed before she had the males panting over her?”

“Still,” Feyre said, “that one was the easiest to smooth over. No one was killed. Or maimed.”

“I think the proposal with Chrysos was when Cassian was aware this was going to be a repeat issue,” Az said.

Chrysos stood before them, undulating between the visage of a male and of something else, something other – possibly human but not quite. His skin was translucent and his gold blood ran through his veins, clear to their eyes, like streaks in white marble.

He was horrifying and beautiful and Feyre struggled to tear her eyes away.

“I must marry you,” he said, directing his words to Nesta. Chrysos’ voice echoed around the cave chamber, strangely melodic, a harmony of angels singing in chorus, one voice on top of another. “I shall make you my Queen and take you into the darkness where we shall make the sweetest music and-”

Nesta’s shoulders sagged, energy sapped from her as she gave a frustrated sigh.

“What the fuck?!”

Feyre jumped at Cassian’s yell, the noise bouncing from the tops of the cave to the bottom, deep into the darkest part and back again.

“Seriously! For fucks sake, I am standing right here!”

Rhys chuckled. “That ended quick enough if I remember?”

“We were on a recruitment mission though, we wanted him on our side,” Az said, “not dead.”

“Cassian maintains he slipped.”

“From six feet away?”

“Yes.”

“With his sword aloft?”

“I didn’t think the proposal in Summer was too bad,” interrupted Feyre, now with Nyx resting against her shoulder so she could pat his back with soothing circles.

The party on Tarquin’s barge was held at the height of the season the Court was most famous for.

The weather was idyllic; sunshine beating down on Feyre’s skin, endless blue skies stretching ahead while a cool ocean breeze drifted from the teal waters teaming with coral. Dolphins pranced in the frothy waves around them, shimmering and shining, their scales a rosy pink.

“Look, Nyx, look!” Feyre held her cooing baby high, pointing the dolphins out to his curious violet eyes.

The barge moved at a comfortable pace and again, like all parties the High Lords arranged, the music, food and wine flowed. Guests streamed from the top desk to the lower one and lower still when they felt like taking to the private cabins, the heat in the air turning into heat in the blood.

The decks were vast enough to not see the same individuals constantly but small enough to see them often and Feyre had smiled every time she walked past a relaxed Cassian and Nesta.

On their first stroll about the deck, Nyx had been awake and grinning, Nesta peppering his small face with a flood of kisses that had him squealing and his limbs flailing with joy. Cassian had joked about knowing his place in the pecking order and Nesta smiled at him in turn.

Cassian’s hair was tied back into a loose bun, strands of black hair falling past his jaw. It was too hot for leathers and, with his white linen shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose the black tattoos on his arms, he was the most casual Feyre had ever seen him.

Nesta stunned in a dress of blue which started ice blue at her shoulders before blending into a shade so dark at the hem it was almost black. The front was a demure and delicately scalloped neckline but Nesta’s back was entirely bare, held up by invisible straps.

Multiple pairs of eyes glanced their way but Nesta’s hand never left Cassian’s and his free one travelled the length of her spine dipping beyond the fabric at her lower back.

You’re borderline indecent, Feyre told them with pretend outrage and continued to walk the deck.

The second time Feyre passed them, they had been talking to Tarquin and Feyre only caught a brief snippet of their conversation, trying to settle a now restless Nyx against her shoulder.

“One apology,” Tarquin had said, “that was my mother’s favourite building.”

On Feyre’s third pass, Nyx now in Rhys’ arms, Tarquin had gone. In his place stood a fae Feyre didn’t recognise.

“I had turned away for a couple of seconds,” Cassian said, his hands in fists, “and you thought this was your opportunity to sneak in here like a panting-”

“Cassian,” Nesta warned, “we don’t want another incident in this Court.”

“Well, there will be one if this prick doesn’t move out of here. We’ll see how he fares with my foot up his as-”

“Cassian!”

“She’s married and mated. Can’t you see the matching rings? Can’t you smell the mate bond?”

The high fae nodded his head, “Yes, but...”

“But? But what?! That’s it,” Cassian said, “we’re leaving this fucking party.”

Rhys and Az stared at Feyre as she burped Nyx, their mouths open.

“What?” she asked.

“You didn’t think it was too bad?” Rhys said, his voice incredulous.

Feyre shrugged, “No one died and no wars were started.”

“They’d only just removed the ban on Cassian to have to enforce it again.”

“I don’t think the second ban was fair though.”

“Feyre, darling. He destroyed the barge.”

“We spent hours fishing everyone out of the sea,” Az said. “Then we had to work out where Nesta’s unfortunate suitor had landed after Cassian threw him towards the cliff.”

“Wasn’t he clinging onto the side of the rockface?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t Cassian destroy another building in his haste to get away?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Feyre said, frowning. “So maybe it was bad.”

“I quite liked the proposal from Locuples,” Az said, “that was the best for all involved. No one died and we ended up with a pretty good trade agreement.”

“Oh, I remember that,” said Feyre, “I was here when Nesta and Cassian came back.”

Feyre and Az had been in the grand room, as they were now, sitting opposite each other in companiable silence. Steam from their tea cups swirled in the air and Feyre gazed out the windows at the white clouds over the city.

“What the-?”

Feyre’s head snapped round, surprised at the uncharacteristic shock in Az’s voice. He stared towards the door archways and Feyre followed his eyeline.

Cassian and Nesta had returned, surprisingly quietly, as she hadn’t heard them land on the roof. Or perhaps, looking at the display in front of her, they’d travelled by some other means.

Nesta sat on a throne on an open topped litter, carried by two lithe creatures who were more shadow and smoke than real and whose feet never touched the ground. Nesta herself, bedecked with jewels, a tiara and clutching a sceptre, wore an expression of confusion.

Cassian followed on foot, wings tersely tucked in, heaving a trunk filled with gold, jewellery, silks, furs and bottles which wafted exotic scents.

Cassian glanced at them from the corner of his eye, “Don’t ask.”

“I thought we expected this to be a hostile negotiation?”

“I said don’t ask.”

“We still receive gifts on a monthly basis,” Feyre said and slid to the floor to lay a barely awake Nyx on the soft furs - one of those aforementioned gifts. She traced a thumb on the arch of his foot and watched it curl, his lips smacking in contentment.

Feyre swore the floorboards underneath him adjusted to accommodate his shape.

“Don’t you receive monthly gifts from Helion as well?” Rhys asked. “Or did Cassian put a stop to that?”

“Cassian put a stop to that one,” Az said.

“Doesn’t Nesta still have the first gift though?”

Az groaned and placed his scarred hands over his eyes. “Yes, and I cannot express how much upkeep it takes.”

Feyre smiled, “Oh, I remember that one too.”

The shriek took Feyre by surprise and she leapt from her chair, readying herself for action. It was only seconds before she realised it wasn’t a shriek of pain but one of sheer, childlike joy.

Once again, her and Az were in the House and, once again, she hadn’t heard the arrival of the House’s other permanent occupants.

“In the name of the Mother,” Az breathed and, in what was a familiar pattern, Feyre turned to where he was looking. This time, instead of Az looking towards the doorway, he was staring outwards at the windows.

Nesta, clad in her leathers and with windswept hair was sat astride a glorious white winged horse, her black leather a stark contrast to the white of the creature she sat upon.

“Someone find Gwen and Emerie! They need to know about this; they need to come here!”

With another shriek of joy and a gentle nudge to the horse’s sides Nesta rose higher, the wings of the horse flapping with enthusiasm, happy to appease its new owner.

There was a sigh from behind them and Feyre and Az turned. Cassian leant against the doorframe, fingers rubbing his temples.

“Cass... isn’t that Helion’s last and most prized flying horse?”

“Please – do not ask.”

“That thing is a nightmare,” Az said, “it eats everything, likes very few fae and can somehow find its way into the House in the dead of night. Do you know how terrifying it is to wake to find a winged horse hovering over you demanding sugar cubes while stealing your blanket? I can’t live like this.”

Feyre shot him a sympathetic smile while Rhys laughed. In the brief silence which followed, Feyre could hear the rhythmic banging echoing its way through the house.

“Aren’t they done yet?”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“At least it will be over soon.”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

“You think this is bad?” Az said, “You weren’t here after the proposal with the Peregryn.”

To Feyre, the Dawn Court was one of the most beautiful. Its shades of gold and red weren’t bright or ostentatious but were the softer golds found in the rising sun, the reds not vermillion or scarlet but something akin to a dusky rose.

Every town held a thousand clock-towers, every hand matching perfectly, the chimes on the hour synching in a glorious song, calling to the skies in praise of a new day, of promises to be made, of joy to come.

The peace of that particular morning had been broken by the shouts of males, all raised in the ecstatic spirit of competition. Nothing violent or aggressive but it spoke to Feyre of knuckles and bone crunching all the same.

She’d pushed her way to the front of a crowd, the fae recognising her and making room for her to pass. A fighting circle had broken out in a section of the town square, cheers raising into the air as one of the fighters scored a blow.

In the circle stood two males, both tall and broad, barefooted and bare-chested. One had wings similar to the Pegasus which Nesta now owned, white and gold-feathered, and the other had wings as black as night, the rising sun highlighting veins and patches of amber.

A female was eagerly watching them, a female Feyre shoved past fae to move next to.

“Nesta! Why is Cassian sparring with a Peregryn?”

Nesta didn’t tear her eyes from the males. “Some old nonsense about fighting for the right to take my hand.”

Cassian landed a punch to his opponent’s jaw, the crack reverberating through the air as the crowd cheered on.

Sweat trickled down Cassian’s own jaw and onto his neck. His muscles were strained, his abdomen contracting. As the fighters turned positions, his back faced Feyre, black tattoos against dark skin, his shoulder blades gleaming with oil.

Feyre glanced at Nesta who was dressed in a pale peach dress adorned with pearls, her hair up but with soft stands framing her face. She would have looked a wholesome picture of innocence if not for her darkening eyes.

“Shouldn’t you stop this?”

“Probably.”

“Are you going to?”

Nesta’s eyes flickered from the top of Cassian’s head down his back and then, as the fighter’s moved again, to his stomach where they lingered on the trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his trousers. She sighed.

“A few more minutes.”

Feyre blinked as if she could rid herself of the memory. “I can only imagine.”

“If I didn’t visit the river house for dinner I would have starved. The House had to perform a deep clean.”

The walls shook in what was akin to a shudder.

“The bard was wholesome enough,” Rhys said.

Az groaned, “And yet ridiculous.”

In a concerted effort to apologise to the Courts on behalf of the behaviour of some Inner Circle members during previous gatherings, Feyre and Rhys had invited the High Lords and their significant others to Starfall.

The House remained still, either curious as to who all the guests were or silently sulking that there were guests at all.

The tang of a rich red wine was on Feyre’s tongue, not from anything she had drunk, but from a stolen kiss from Rhys, under the night sky, in a moment solely theirs before it became everyone else’s.

The night was filled with laughter and talking and Feyre slid into the embrace of her mate, content in the knowledge that Nyx slumbered underneath the watchful eye of the House’s nursery, a room which hadn’t existed before this very evening.

Her heart hurt, but in a good way, as though each chamber was bursting with a joy they couldn’t contain and her happiness spilled out into every corner of the rooftop.

Azriel was intently speaking with Nesta’s red-haired friend while Elain watched on from a distance, either not aware of, or ignoring, her own red-haired watcher.

Amren and Mor stood amongst another group, Mor’s golden hair cascading down her back like a waterfall and near the balcony was Cassian and Nesta, pressed side by side, hand in hand as they gazed upwards, Cassian pointing to a constellation.

Nesta glanced at him as he spoke, her face softening in a way Feyre never thought possible, a smile on her lips. When Cassian looked back at her, to check her understanding of what he was saying, he brought their intertwined hands up to his mouth, to kiss her fingertips.

Feyre smiled, all was well and all would continue to be well. That was until a voice, clear and resolute, spoke out into the crowd.

“My High Lords and Ladies and Paramor’s, I am a bard from the Spring Court – famed as the best in all the Courts!”

Chatter drifted into murmurs as heads turned expectedly to the fae now standing in the centre. Feyre noted his lute fixed upon his waistband but the bard made no attempt to reach for it.

“I have travelled across the land, coming to the Court of the High Lord and High Lady of Night with one purpose and one purpose only – to serenade with tales of fortune and love!”

A ripple of anticipation broke out amongst the crowd to hear such songs and Feyre turned to Rhys. “Did you arrange this?” but his face was twisted in confusion.

“I dedicate my melodies to one female, one who understands music as though her very bones were formed by the notes. My song to you, Lady Nesta and also my hand in marri-”

“FUCKS SAKE!”

Feyre let out a sigh. “I felt so sorry for the bard. He must have seen Nesta on one of her visits. To think, he spent all those weeks travelling on foot to arrive to the House and then Cassian threatens to dangle him from the roof.”

“Cassian did dangle him from the roof.”

“No one’s going to invite us to any more parties,” said Rhys with a sorrowful sigh.

“I think we can handle an overly amorous high fae or two,” Az said, “it’s the demons which worry me.”

“They’re no cause for concern,” Rhys said with a wave of his hand. “In fact, we have a valuable asset on our side. Drag Nesta in front of them and it tends to shut them up.”

Feyre frowned. “That is my sister you’re deciding to use as romantic bait. Besides, the issue we had with the Caligo demon was that it didn’t stop talking. There was such a mess.”

Screams filled Feyre’s ears as terrified Night Court citizens ran past her, almost a blur.

Tears streaked down terror-stricken faces as they grabbed the arms of their loved ones and scooped up children too small or young to so anything other than shiver and cry.

Cracks appeared in the ground beneath their feet, the cobbles of the street twisting and turning before jutting upwards like the jagged, sharpened edges of broken bone. The air was thick with acrid smoke which stung Feyre’s eyes causing them to stream with the tears she saw running down her people’s faces.

Rhys was to her right. Or that’s what she hoped. He had been standing but he’d gasped in pain and then she no longer saw him through the gaps in the cloud. When she managed to glimpse him, he was on his knees, thick red blood pouring down his face from a cut on his scalp.

Feyre choked back a sob and clambered over the rips in the earth to reach him.

Steel clashed with steel in the darkness, the shouts of Cassian and Azriel tearing through the blackness as they pressed forward. A shimmer of magic absorbed as much of the darkness away as it could and created a halo around the members of the Inner Circle.

Hands, strong and steady, circled Feyre’s waist and Nesta held her up, helped her over the torn earth.

“I am destroyer,” the thing hissed. “I am consumer, I am flesh ripper and soul tearer and I-”

It turned, watching them all, gloating in their misery and gorging itself fat on their pain. One of its bulbous eyes slid to where they stood, Feyre leaning into Nesta’s side. Her sister’s hair was dishevelled, her arms smeared with blood but Nesta’s eyes remained cold and hard upon the demon.

“And I – oh, oh, you are spectacular.”

A roar ripped through the darkness; a bellowing from powerful lungs as the words of the creature reached the ears of all present.

“Absolutely fucking not!”

Cassian advanced from the void, red siphons blazing as though he were shrouded in flame. “I am her mate; I am her husband and I suggest you put those sloping tongues back into your mouth or Mother help me...”

Feyre swallowed the rising bile. She tried not to think about the events of that night, though she didn’t know what was worse – that night or now, with the thumping above their heads gaining momentum.

“He got the job done,” Rhys said and then smirked, “and he’s doing the same now from the sounds of it.”

“Rhys!” Feyre admonished and placed her hand on Nyx’s stomach to calm herself. “Why do you think he puts up with it?” she asked Az.

“What choice does he have? Besides, he loves and trusts her. There’s no one for him but her and no one for her but him.”

“Disgusting,” Rhys said with slight mockery to his tone.

“No,” Feyre said, “what’s disgusting is the head in the corner.” She eyed up the lump that had once been somethings head; the glassy eyes, the bloodied stump. She wouldn’t relish touching the thing but she would happily remove herself out of earshot of Nesta and Cassian’s post proposal love affirmation. “Where do I take it?”

“The House created a trophy room three doors down,” Az said.

Anguis’ mouth hung open, razor sharp rotted teeth all lined up on display. Feyre felt a slither of pity. “I’ll take it there.”

“No, Feyre darling, I’ll do it.”

Feyre breathed a sigh of relief and nodded before turning to Az. “Shall we wait for them to be done? We need to discuss the next mission which is rather sensitive.”

Az shook his head, “No, you may as well go home. It was a proposal so they’re not stopping until – what day is it now, Thursday? – they’re not going to be fit for purpose until Monday.”

Rhys, still lounging, stretched out into the space Feyre previously occupied. “We can’t wait that long.”

“Do you want to volunteer to interrupt them?

“No.”

Feyre glanced between them both. “Cassian did look rather sad.”

Azriel laughed again, the sound echoing throughout the room, his head thrown back. “Don’t pity Cassian, he knows what he’s doing.”

“And Nesta falls for it?”

“No, she definitely doesn’t fall for it.”

“But isn’t she in their chambers um...reassuring him?”

“Yes.”

Feyre bit her lip, “So surely...”

“Oh Mother,” Az rubbed his hand across his face. “It’s their form of twisted foreplay. When Nesta received a proposal from – well, I can’t remember which one, I came home early and almost went blind. Have none of you questioned the indoor swing?”

Feyre’s voice was quiet when she spoke, scooping up her son into her arms with haste. “I thought they were creating an inside playground.”

“Ah,” Az said, his voice soft, “not quite.”

The thumping reached its crescendo and blessedly, stilled.

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Rhys said, “they’re done after all. Az, go retrieve them. We need to discuss the next mission.”

“Why me?”

“You live here.”

“You’re the High Lord.”

Feyre looked around her, Nyx clutched in her arms. “I think the floor is sloping us out towards the door.”

“I don’t think so Feyre, darling.”

“No really, the head - which you said you’d deal with by the way - is rolling away.”

Feyre wasn’t imagining what was happening, she’d passed under the entrance to the room, Rhys and Az’s chairs beginning to follow.

“This happens,” Az said with a calmness Feyre didn’t feel. “Usually when they don’t want anyone to overhear the next part of their ‘Nesta got proposed to again’ sex marathon.”

“Why? What could they now be planning that’s so much worse?”

“I don’t know,” Az replied, “the House always shuffles me out at this point. One time I was trying to prep my knives and almost stabbed myself in the eye.”

“Right,” said Rhys, “I think we can walk out of here without a sentient lump of stone forcing us to. Which,” he said with an eye to the steepness of the floor angle, “is completely within its’ right.”

Feyre nestled a snoring Nyx into one arm as Rhys helped her up. Az was already on his feet, out the door and into the hallway before he got flattened by an oversized, burgundy armchair.

He turned to them both.

“So, where’s the next mission to anyway? Where are you sending our glorious Lady Death and Lord of Bloodshed and can I sit it out?”

Feyre and Rhys exchanged glances. “I think we might need you in attendance,” Feyre said.

Az raised an eyebrow. “Well, I know King Lascivus is causing some problems with his tithe but as long as you weren’t planning on sending us to his palace, it will be fine. He’s famous for his side hobby of trying to find a muse to depict as the Mother in his artworks. Borderline obsessed.”

Feyre cleared her throat, “Sounds like he’s fervently religiously devout.”

“Hardly. The issue isn’t him trying to depict the Mother but that he’s spent centuries convincing everyone that she needs to be represented in her naked glory and I quote ‘with the petals of her flower fully opened.’”

Rhys coughed and moved fast down the hallway towards the roof entrance his wings already forming.

“Rhys!” Feyre called out. “You know I can’t run when I’m holding the baby!”

Az’s voice was quiet. “Feyre?”

“You know we love you,” she said, not meeting his hazel eyes, “and you’re always welcome at the river house. For as long as you want, whether that’s weeks or months.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I swear on the Cauldron, if you need to you can stay for centuries.”

“Feyre?”

She turned and didn’t look back, picking up her own speed to follow Rhys, ignoring the quiver in Az’s tone.

“We love you Az,” she shouted over her shoulder, propping Nyx into a position ready for flight as the House opened its doors to hasten her exit. “Always remember that.”

TAGGING

@live-the-fangirl-life

@champanheandluxxury

@dontgetsalmonella

@purpleglitterypinecone

#nessian #fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #nesta #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #i wrote something #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nessian fan fiction #nessianfic #nesta archeron x cassian #nessian fan fic #the perils of being mr nesta archeron

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calaofnoldor · 4 years ago

Text

Sixth Time’s the Charm [4]

(GIF credit: @teamfreewill-imagine)

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 6,107

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you. (Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone.)

Chapter Summary: You offer yourself as bait for a shapeshifter hunt. Things do not go as planned.

Warnings: canon level violence, language, idiots in love, mutual pining, huffy!sam, protective!sam, slight angst?, slow burn, fluff

A/N: i am SO sorry for the wait (story of my life) but to make up for it, look, 6k words! (yeah i’m sorry about that too, i don’t know what happened there.) written for @tvdspngirl314‘s birthday writing event with the prompt “You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone?” which is bolded in the fic. this also fills a square for @spnfluffbingo!

Square Filled: Rescue Mission

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The fourth time was all you. Dean barely had to lift a finger. The result, however, was far more traumatic than he had planned and rather emphatically revealed the magnitude of his brother’s feelings toward you.

Much like the previous attempts, there was a case: a shapeshifter going after women who conveniently happened to fit your description. The strategy was obvious, and you’d leaped at the opportunity to both make yourself useful and hopefully take the place of what would have otherwise been the next innocent civilian victim. But of course, Sam resisted at first.

“No. Absolutely not! We don’t know enough about this guy for you to just jump into his waiting arms, Y/N!” The fervent indignation in his tone and body language was palpable. Sam was rarely one to raise his voice or sport much of a temper at all really, but lately these heated outbursts seemed to be occurring more frequently, and frankly you were getting sick of it. The false hope they momentarily granted you through the notion that perhaps he cared about you as more than a friend was one thing. What’s more, the way his voice lowered half an octave combined with the sight of his flared nostrils, puffed chest, and straining jaw always seemed to have a sideways effect on you, in that it was impossible to keep your attention on his words alone. But boy did you try.

“Sam, how many times do we have to go through this? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And your wrist is still healing so it’s not like you can call the shots on this one anyway. Besides, I’m not going in alone. You and Dean will be there for backup the whole time, right?”

“’Course we will, eh Sammy?” In a strange turn of events, Dean often appeared to be the one with a more jovial outlook recently.

Sam merely nodded and continued his heavy breathing. He glared down at his bandaged left wrist, the result of skirmish with a couple of wraiths, as if it were the root of all his problems. Then he looked up and through densely drawn brows, those magnetizing multicolored eyes pierced yours, his countenance bearing a charged and sullen expression of pensive exasperation as his jaw visibly tightened. You swallowed and could not for the life of you find the will to look away.

“So it’s settled then,” Dean proclaimed jubilantly, “Unless… you’ve got another reason you don’t want Y/N playing bait, hmm Sam? Maybe something you wanna share with the class? Or, you know, I could leave…”

“Dean, stop it. You’re not helping,” you quickly admonished before steadying your gaze back on the taller Winchester, “Look, Sam, have I ever let you down?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you still trust me?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately in a ‘what-kind-of-a-question-is-that’ tone, at which you simply raised your eyebrow to send him a reciprocating ‘then-what’s-the-problem?’ look.

“OK fine,” Sam huffed out a big breath, “But you’re not taking any risks! Anything seems off at all, just… promise me you’ll wait for me and Dean and keep us in the loop?”

His pleading eyes were so earnest and you’d truly never been able to say no to the giant puppy before, so you offered him a little smile and said, “Cross my heart.”

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face, looking lost in thought for a moment until he spoke up again, much more reserved and hesitant this time, “Do you still have that uh… ring from… that time?” Dean muffled a snort at his brother’s expense but you both ignored him, completely accustomed to his nonsensical teasing by now.

“Uh yeah, I- I think so.” The uncertainty in your voice was a lie. Of course you still had the ring you’d once used to pretend to be married to Sam Winchester. You may or may not have tucked it away in a special place for safekeeping.

“Good,” Sam nodded curtly, “I want you to wear it. It’s silver. I’ll wear mine too and Dean already has his. That’s how we’ll know that we’re still… ourselves.”

“OK, yeah that’s a good idea,” you agreed, trying your hardest not to linger on the memories.

“Well look at you two! Getting hitched again so soon-“

“Shut up, Dean,” you and Sam cut him off together.

When the meeting was adjourned and you were about to part ways to prepare for the upcoming hunt, something inside you forced you to call out his name, “Oh and Sam!” He turned around at once, questioning gaze somewhat urgently searching yours for a sign of what might come next. You stuttered though, feeling suddenly self conscious, so the next words you uttered were not much louder than a whisper, “Be careful with your wrist.”

Sam smiled, his dimples making your fingers twitch with the need to caress them. “I’ll be fine. You just look out for yourself. Remember, we’ll be right behind you.”

Somehow you both didn’t hear the groan Dean emitted as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to whoever was listening, ‘Good lord, someone give me the strength to survive another day with these imbeciles.’

There was only one diner in the tiny Pennsylvanian town, and seeing as you were starving by the time you got there, the three of you were forced to make do with soggy fries and questionable milkshakes. As you ate, you went through your game plan once more, which essentially consisted of waiting until nightfall to visit the bar from where the previous girls had gone missing, while Sam and Dean shadowed you covertly.

Before you left, you took a quick trip to the loo and when you returned, Sam was stood outside alone, a broad smile upon his face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked as you began to walk out the diner, expecting to find the older brother waiting impatiently in the parking lot by his precious car, but the Impala was gone.

“He went back to the motel, said he had something to take care of and that we should go scope the place out first.”

“But I thought we agreed to-“

“Yeah, well change of plans, you know how it is,” Sam replied casually with a shrug.

Little red flags started fluttering in your head, urging your eyes downward to locate the silver band on his finger. You frowned when you found it there untouched on his right hand; Sam almost never interrupted you, not even when he was absorbed in the foulest of moods.

Apparently sensing your hesitation, he added, “I mean, he made a good point. Maybe if you familiarize yourself with the surroundings first, you’ll be able to take the guy out faster.”

Sam was still smiling at you, but it felt all wrong. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something missing from his rainbow eyes. The colors were all there, but they lacked luster and warmth, a delicate twinkle that you’d learned to associate with the beautiful, heroic yet self-doubting giant of a man. Never had you seen that breathtaking magic replicated elsewhere, nor had you ever seen Sam without it, which was why you were almost completely certain that the man before you was not the real Sam Winchester.

But weaving within you was a thread of doubt, insisting that you couldn’t just pull a gun on your best friend because of something as trivial as… a feeling? No, you needed to test your theory. And so, bracing yourself with a deep breath, you slowly reached out your silver-equipped hand to do something you’d grown accustomed to resentfully abstaining from: touching Sam’s bare skin. You aimed for the large target of his hand, deeming it the most inconspicuous of places (given that he was wearing his hunters’ uniform and the only other visible option would’ve been his face or neck), but Sam was faster. Just before you were able to graze his skin with your ring, he caught your wrist in his much bigger hand and pulled it away, twisting your arm until it was locked painfully behind you.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” the shifter snarled with a flash of its eyes, moving in real close as he used Sam’s immense size and his own superhuman strength to easily constrain you.

Even so, you stared up at him defiantly, unafraid, “Sam and Dean will be back.”

“That’s the plan.”

Sam’s sneering face and threatening voice were the last things you saw or heard.

You had no way of determining how much time had passed when you unceremoniously came to in what looked and smelled to be an underground sewer. As your senses sharpened and your muddled brain began to size up your current plight, you nearly scoffed at the clichéd style of your captor. Sat on a peeling wooden chair, manila rope bound your wrists together behind your back and tethered your ankles securely to each of the seat’s front legs.

Ignoring the ache in your head, you set about strategically testing the knots and the integrity of the wood. If only you could reach the silver blade in your boot. But your attempts were interrupted by the reappearance of the shifter, whose shoe hit something as he stepped before you. A metallic clang echoed through the confined space as a result and you followed the sound to find your coveted knife on the ground, far beyond your reach.

“Fucking hunters, always think they’re so clever, always one step ahead because it’s their game. Sure, we might be the monsters but you’re the predators! So let’s see how you like being the prey for once.” Shifter Sam’s upper lip curled up in a way that seemed so foreign to you as he leaned forward to rest his hands on either arm of your chair, caging you in.

The malicious glint in his eye left you with no qualms about affronting this being who, for all intents and purposes, appeared identical to the man you’d recently discovered you were in love with. Lifting your chin, you glared up at him brazenly, “If you’re so keen on being the predator then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Why your knight in shining armor of course!” he exclaimed, backing up as he stood to his full height and gestured to himself with both hands. “You think it was a coincidence that all those women looked like you?”

The shifter’s narrowed eyes were alight with amusement and a ripple of fear surged through your body. You were in much deeper than you or the boys had anticipated, though years of practice helped you keep your voice steady and bold, “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, I gave them a fairly painless death, don’t you worry. They were just stepping stones on my way to you. See, the Winchesters owe me a girlfriend, so I figured I’d take the closest thing to theirs. But imagine my joyous surprise when I got into this big lug’s head and discovered that he’s in love with you! No, actually it’s more than that. He’s obsessed with you; you never leave his brain! Every other thought and memory is about you... Well, it’s either you or his brother, but oh, it’s gonna kill him to see you die before his eyes. I might’ve been able to replace my dead girlfriend, but I don’t think Sam here will ever come back from losing you.”

Stunned into silence, the stupid influx of misguided hormones pumping through your veins forced you to focus on maintaining a neutral expression as he rattled on.

“And you feel the same way, don’t you? So this really will be a double kill. It’s OK, you can let it all out. I might be a monster but I’m not one to deny the dying their chance for some last words. Besides, you can say it all while looking into the eyes of the man you love.”

“Fuck you,” were the only words you could trust yourself to spit out at him.

‘Sam’ laughed, but it was nothing like the laughs you normally pulled from him. It didn’t radiate like sunshine or replenish your soul with glee. Rather, it was chilling and conniving and despite the mimicry of Sam’s beautiful voice, you immediately decided that you never wanted to hear it again.

“Not feeling too talkative, huh? Or maybe you’d rather wait until he gets here in the flesh to make that anticlimactic confession of love? That’s alright, I can just tell you more about this dumbass’s feelings for you.” The shifter chuckled with delight, as if every word brought him nothing but pure joy. “Man, he loves you so much, it’s insane. I’ve never been inside the skin of someone so in love. And I thought I really loved my ex. Afterall, this whole revenge thing is for her. But I gotta tell ya, I’ve got nothing on Sam Winchester. Did you know he thinks you were made specifically for him? You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone? Cause Sam does. That’s how he feels about you.”

“Why should I believe you?” you challenged, growing tired of the inadvertent response his words were eliciting. Your heart was pounding in your neck, core trembling at the mere possibility of Sam genuinely feeling the way he’d described. But you knew better than to trust a monster, and one who was in pursuit of maximal vengeance no less. Still, those rose-colored thoughts resonated within you, and you stumbled to dismiss them as they bubbled up, one after another like a game of emotional whack-a-mole.

Shifter Sam smirked, “Yeah, you’re a cynical one, aren’t you? You know everything he said in that marriage counseling session was true. You kinda hurt his feelings when you just brushed it all off. Even big brother Dean’s been trying to get him to confess his love for you. You must’ve heard them arguing about it at some point? They weren’t exactly being discreet.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply scowled at him.

“No? Still in denial? Perhaps you need details… You ever notice how he always sits across from you whenever you’re doing research? It’s because he thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re focused, and it gives him an opportunity to admire you without getting caught. And why do you think he lets you call him Sammy, huh? Yeah, he might not let it on but he fucking loves it when you do, makes him feel all tingly inside. And you remember that cop who hit on you? Captain Anderson, was it? Sam wanted to break the guy’s nose just for touching you. Oh and why do you think he asked you to move into the bedroom closest to his? It’s so he can keep track of your nightmares. He likes to keep you close because it makes him feel like he can protect you better when you need it.”

By now, your ‘neutral expression’ must have surely mutated to betray your shock, and you couldn’t have answered if you tried. The shifter didn’t seem to mind either way. In fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

“And it’s not all pure thoughts, let me tell you! Oh man, buddy boy here has dreamed up plenty of X-rated scenes with you, ranging from obnoxiously romantic to just plain obscene. You name a position and he’s imagined it, in high-definition detail,” he embellished, tapping an index finger against his temple, “His mind is like a library of pornos starring the two of you, although he’ll never get to live out any of his fantasies, will he? It’s a shame really; some of these are really hot... Ooh, I’ll have to borrow that one,” he said with closed eyes, as if a figment of Sam’s imagination was playing through his head in that very moment, “Maybe my girl and I can re-enact it while we’re still in your skins-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” you finally bellowed in protest.

Sam watched the bathroom door attentively after you’d disappeared through it, unable to contain the upward jerk of his lips when he saw you walking back out of it. Heartwarming relief had become his body’s intrinsic response to seeing you safe and sound.

“You ready?” he questioned when you made it to his side.

“Yeah, I’m good.” God, even the sound of your voice made him happy.

Once you got back to the motel, Dean plopped down onto one of the full-size beds, exhausted from the drive. Within a matter of seconds, snores began to fill the room, and Sam chuckled under his breath as he sat down around a wobbly table with you to continue your research on the shifter’s victims, hoping to find something else that linked them together or a clue as to where they might’ve been taken.

It wasn’t long before you inhaled a revelatory gasp and abruptly clutched Sam’s wrist to show him what you’d found. But your grip was harsh, causing him to hiss in pain and do something he’d never before done: recoil from your touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it still hurt?” you asked nonchalantly, smiling up at him innocently.

Worse than the pain in his fractured wrist was what felt like sirens blaring in his head. You were always hyper-cognizant of his injuries and exceedingly careful around them, sometimes even more so than himself. Sam looked you over subtly, eyes landing on the silver ring still upon your finger. Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him and all that tender attention he thought you’d shown him was simply a mirage of his own wishful thinking?

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Sam sent you a tight smile, to which you responded with a dazzling one of your own. It was beautiful but something about it felt off. In the past, you apologized profusely if ever you found yourself the accidental cause of his discomfort, no matter how indirect or insignificant the case, but right now there wasn’t a single speck of concern in your eyes. Indeed, the more he looked into them, the more he struggled to recognize the person staring back at him.

In a flash, Sam had you up against the wall, a silver blade held against your neck. He looked down to see the metal sizzling there, burning your flesh, and cursed himself for failing to notice sooner.

The noise woke Dean from his slumber and what he saw when he opened his eyes was equal parts shocking and amusing. “Whoa! At least wait till I’m out of the room! And isn’t that a little kinky for your first time?”

“Dean, it’s not her. She’s not Y/N,” Sam grit out, “She’s wearing the ring but she’s not Y/N.”

His brother’s brows knit together as he rubbed the sleep from his emerald greens. “Wha- How did you know?”

“She was acting… weird.”

Dean scrambled off the bed, making a quick call on his phone to ensure you really were missing. He paled when a robotic voice over the line told him the number he was trying to reach was no longer in service.

It was then the shifter decided to speak up, “You know, the real Y/N would have liked this, you pressing her up against a wall?” she murmured suggestively.

“Shut up. Where is she?!” Sam slammed her body against the flimsy motel wall once more and dug the knife in a little deeper. In his panic-stricken state, he barely registered her remark, being driven entirely by a one-track mind at present.

Shifter Y/N grimaced slightly, glancing down at the knife, “Maybe if you stop cutting into me with that, I might consider telling you.”

“How did you get the ring?”

“Oh, this little thing? You like it? It’s imitation silver, but otherwise nearly identical to the one on the real Y/N’s finger. You see, we’ve been following you for a while now.”

“Who’s we? Where did you take Y/N?!” he demanded incessantly.

“My boyfriend’s got her, but don’t worry, he looks just like you so I’m sure she’ll find her accommodations to her liking,” she retorted with a smirk.

Sam’s heart lunged in his chest and his mind began whirring with endless possibilities of escalating dread. Had you been deceived and captured by a shifter pretending to be him? Were you being hurt or tortured by someone who looked exactly like him? How would you ever be able to look at him the same way again? Of course, you’d know it wasn’t Sam but the damage would still be done. You would forever remember his face as that of someone who once hurt you, who tried to kill you. That is, if Sam could make it to you in time.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see her one last time. That’s actually why I’m here, to take you to her when the time is right,” the shifter added casually.

“I will end your miserable fucking life! Tell me where she is right now!” Sam roared before pressing the blade further into her neck, the veins in his forearms ready to burst through his skin.

“Hey, hey! Sammy, ease up! We need her alive, alright?” Dean bounded over to his brother and after quite the struggle, managed to assuage him enough to release his vice grip and replace it with silver chains that shackled her to a chair.

“Sam, maybe we should also be asking ‘why’,” Dean mused as he fastened the end of a chain against one of the beds.

With a shake of his head, Sam avowed through grinding teeth, “I don’t fucking care. I have to get to her.”

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“Then I’ll find her myself.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief as he turned to his usually wise and level-headed little brother, “Oh yeah, and how’re you gonna do that? Where would you even start?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation. Then, after a pause of desperate deliberation alleged, “Shifters like to make their lairs in sewers, right?”

Taking a step closer, Dean maintained his challenging tone, “So what are you gonna do, just wade through the entire town’s shit and piss until you find her?!”

“If that's what it takes, then yes!” Sam looked like he was about to eat his brother alive.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” shifter Y/N interfered from her seated position before them, raising her chin to meet Sam’s eyes, “Don’t worry, handsome, I can tell you she feels the same way. But unfortunately, by the time you get to her, I don’t think she’ll be able to tell you herself. In fact, you’ll probably hardly recognize her anymore… so you might want to keep me around, if only as a souvenir of your soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. Despite looking like a carbon copy of you, the evil gleam in the shifter’s eyes made her easily differentiable, and so Sam held back nothing when he lunged across the distance, knife in hand ready to do some real damage. However, Dean pounced with him, having predicted his brother’s violent eruption and felt his shaking wrath, knowing a little too well just how rash he could be when it came to you. Still, it took all of Dean’s strength to pull Sam back, sending him a stern but knowing look once he did.

“Sam, stop!” His low voice rumbled as he went into authoritative big brother mode, “Listen to me, you wanna save Y/N? Well so do I, but this is not how we do it! Now I know it’s hard, but I need you to calm down, alright?”

Sam’s massive chest was practically at his chin as he heaved ginormous breaths. Though his body language was still offensive, his hazel eyes were filled with fear and devastation when they looked toward his brother, “Dean, if I don't get to her in time, I’ll...” Clenching his jaw, Sam made a fruitless attempt to calm his tremoring frame and quell his tumultuous emotions. What would he do? Sam wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that every cell in his being was currently screaming at him to get to you, to make sure you were safe and soothe away any of your pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t give in that moment to simply know you were alright and to hold you in his arms. He knew you could look after yourself, but for once he had a terrifying feeling that even you were in over your head, that you might actually need him this time, and he’d be fucking damned if he let you down.

“Woah! Hey, hey! Sammy, look at me! That ain’t gonna happen, alright? We’re gonna find Y/N and we’re gonna bring her home in one piece, you hear me? We’re the Winchesters, man! We’ve faced the end of the world. What’s a couple of shifters got on us?”

‘You,’ Sam thought, ‘They’ve got you.’ But he appreciated Dean’s pep talk nonetheless and nodded in response as a fresh surge of determination swelled within him.

“Alright then,” Dean nodded as well, “Why don’t you let me give her a go?”

As Dean’s silver blade cut into the detained shapeshifter, Sam flinched with every moan and howl of agony. He knew it wasn’t you, but she still had your voice and your perfect face. Yet not a second was wasted on the feeling of relief when they finally managed to get a location out of her. Sam nearly tripped over himself in his haste as he snatched the Impala’s keys and his gun before flying out of the room with a jumbled order for Dean to stay with the monster.

“Well, if you’re not gonna admit your feelings for the giant lumberjack, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop yapping and get to prettying you up for that first and last date of yours, huh?” Shifter Sam prodded your cheek with a switchblade.

You said nothing. At this point, you had a sneaking suspicion that physical pain might be more bearable than the psychological torment your imprisoner had been so keen on. It was one thing for you to torture yourself by entertaining the slim possibility that Sam might return your feelings for him, but to hear such outrageous perceptions from a creature who could read the inside of his mind like a paperback novel, and conveyed with such tantalizing conviction… well, it just about broke you.

And knowing that the shifter was yearning to coax a confession out of you simply to cause Sam as much anguish as possible made you more resolute about your refusal to submit, beyond the need to protect your own sanity.

One shiner and a slash to the thigh later, however, you heard a loud clash. Shifter Sam paused his handiwork and began to turn around, “Could your knight be here ahead of schedule?”

‘Dammit,’ you thought. The Winchesters were usually capable of being stealthy when necessary but in case it really was the sound of them making a blunder or encountering some other form of resistance, you figured you’d buy them a distraction.

“Wait, wait! You’re right, OK? Maybe I do feel something for Sam, but even if I told him, I think you’re forgetting… This is Sam fucking Winchester we’re talking about here. He’s been tortured by the devil himself. You really think killing me is going do much damage?”

Your abductor had now given you his full attention, leering at you with a sly smile, so you continued, “Besides, you picked a fight with the Winchesters; don't expect to live to see tomorrow.”

Right on cue, a hulking blur of hair and plaid came barreling in, growling ferally as he grabbed the shifter and threw more than one brutal punch against what appeared to be his own face. The silver ring on Sam’s hand made contact with skin and his shifter counterpart groaned in pain.

You nearly forgot about your ceaseless work of untying the rope that cuffed your wrists together as your looked on in shock. Why Sam hadn’t just shot him with a silver bullet was beyond you. He was smarter than this. There was no need to drag out a monster’s death if a more efficient option existed. But as he continued to engage his clone in hand-to-hand combat, it appeared almost as if he was venting his frustrations on the shifter, as if he drank up every ounce of hurt he was able to inflict. But his high only lasted so long and shifter Sam soon regained his balance, making use of his supernatural invulnerability and superior strength.

“Sam!” you screamed as the shifter threw him across the room.

He tumbled up just in time as the shifter meandered over, “So nice of you to join us, Sam. You know, Y/N here was just telling me about-“

Sam didn’t wait for him to finish, choosing instead to tackle him to the floor with a loud grunt. While they wrestled on the ground, you worked furiously at the knots behind you, wincing with every hit Sam took though it was becoming hard to tell them apart.

When Sam finally drew his gun, the shifter was able to divert its barrel and a shot rang out futilely. Catching a subsequent elbow to the ribs had Sam falling to his knees and you watched in horror as shifter Sam once again gained the upper hand, sending the gun flying out of Sam’s grasp. The binding around your wrists was just about undone when Sam seized a stray rusty pipe and swung it against his counterfeit. Shifter Sam was incapacitated for a brief instant but quickly returned to form with some vicious hooks and a couple of well-placed knees.

With your hands finally free of their restraints, you staggered over to the gun, the chair still attached at your ankles. As you took aim, you shouted, “Sam, get down!” before you shot his mirror image through the heart.

Sighing, you slumped to your hands and knees whilst the real Sam sat up with his back against a wall, gaping at you with a look of awe. Yet before he even caught his breath, he was up and gliding toward you, cradling his left wrist at an awkward angle.

“Sam, your wrist!”

“It’s fine, are you OK?” he swiftly dismissed your concern, cupping your face with his good hand as he examined the darkening bruise around your eye.

You ignored the palpitations in your chest and placed a hand upon his wrist, “Yeah, I’m fine. He wasted more time playing mind games than anything. You know villains and their monologues,” you joked, trying to ease his tension and the deluded self-imposed guilt you knew he must’ve been brewing in.

As if to prove your point, Sam lamented, “God, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have gotten here sooner.”

“What? No! They were miles ahead of us, Sam. The whole thing was a set up; this was their hunt. How could you have known?”

Rather than replying, he released a breath and busied himself trying to help you out of your binding.

Back at the motel, after icing your eye and stitching up your thigh, you insisted on re-wrapping Sam’s wrist while Dean took care of shifter Y/N’s remains. But when the older Winchester returned and spied you and his brother sitting together on a bed through a crack in the door, he couldn’t resist the chance to exercise his espionage skills.

“How did you know she wasn’t me anyway?” you asked as you gently wound the ace bandage around Sam’s swollen forearm.

“I just…” He looked down at your nimble fingers upon his skin and smiled unwittingly at their tender touch, “had a feeling.”

Sam’s sunflower gaze locked onto yours for a frozen instant and something about his soft expression made you forget what words were, until he cleared his throat, “Did you um- did you know he wasn’t me?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling for some strange reason. Perhaps you were just glad to see his trademark twinkle return to those otherworldly eyes. “Pretty soon after actually. I… had a feeling too.”

Sam’s dimples made every ache in your body disappear as that twinkle glistened in full force, “And how’d you know which one to shoot?”

Well, that dampened your mood and brought you back to the task at hand, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kept grimacing every time you used your left wrist?” Although your words had a bitter force behind them, the pressure beneath your fingertips never increased and Sam had almost completely forgotten about his pain.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of your struggle to reconcile with what had happened since his question prompted a restored and growing frustration.

It had been bugging you the whole time and you felt compelled to confront him about it because storming in alone with a bad wrist, ready to throw hands with an out-of-his-league monster was really not Sam’s style. Something must’ve gotten into him and with everything the shifter had told you, you couldn’t help but wonder. Nevertheless, you were a little afraid of how he might answer, so Dean had to lean in closer to hear your next words.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“W-what do you mean?” Sam stammered out after a pause.

“Sam, you have a broken wrist, but instead of sending Dean or using your gun from the get-go, you came in like a madman and went after him with your fists!” Your voice was full of incredulity though it also carried an undertone of anger.

As Sam picked up on that reproachful tone, you could almost feel the telltale signs of his puppy dog eyes coming on. “He used my face to deceive you, to hurt you. They manipulated us. I had to- ...I mean, he killed those women just to get us here. He had it coming!”

Your hopes plummeted. Of course, Sam was ever the righteous man. Why would you assume his brashness had been purely born out of a need to avenge you? Though regardless of his reason, you were still upset about his self-destructing behavior, “Yeah, but you had to have realized you were in no position to be the one to give it to him, right? I mean, you might’ve looked the same but he was juiced up on monster superpowers, Sam… which meant he was stronger and faster, not to mention uninjured, in his own territory, and apparently the only one with a sound plan.”

A breath of laughter left Sam’s lips though there was no smile on his face. Here he’d been on a mission to save you, but you were the one who’d ended up saving him, again. You must’ve thought he was comically stupid and pathetically useless. How could he possibly think he was worthy of you? “I guess I should thank you for saving my ass again, huh?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean. Sam, you’re the one who saved me! And I’m beyond grateful for it, really I am. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself more in the process.” You finally finished up with his wrist wrap, securing the final ends with a clip, and letting your hands linger on his for longer than necessary, momentarily distracted by the disparity of size between them. Sam didn’t appear uncomfortable though, as his fingers twitched closer to yours and he made no move to pull away.

He couldn’t help but smile again when he noticed the sincere concern in your eyes that was previously absent in the shifter’s. “Yeah well, what was it you once said to me? ‘Your ass will always be worth it’?”

“And if I remember correctly, you once told me you don’t do things on hunts that make your injuries worse,” you quoted him back with an arched brow.

“Yeah well, I guess this is payback. Now you know how I felt.” A playful grin made his dimples deepen and you clenched your jaw to refrain from gushing over the ridiculous cuteness of this ‘giant lumberjack’.

“You’re an idiot.”

“As long as you’re OK,” Sam answered assuredly, and you nearly melted when his free hand caressed your cheek for the second time that day, big thumb tracing a feather-light path below the purpled skin.

‘You’re both fucking idiots,’ Dean groaned internally from the other side of the door. He knew he had no choice but to up his game.

thanks so much for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!

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vixenpen · 4 years ago

Text

Just Relax For Me, OK? (Scumbag! Hawks x (f) Reader)

(Hoevember Day 10 Free Day)

(Trigger warnings: coercion, power dynamics, manipulation)

(Art by: @kadeart)

He requested me specifically. Not ‘his people’ or his management; Hawks requested me out of all the candidates.

The very thought had you shook. You had only answered the ad seeking ‘new talent’ on a total whim not expecting to get it. Yes, You were cute in your opinion, but you didn’t think you were exceptional or exceptionally lucky enough to get the call back. Yet the email lingered at the back of your mind.

Y/n-San, I hope this email finds you well (although I guess the email doesn’t have a choice, now does it? 😂)

I was impressed with your headshots, and I think you would be perfect for the shoot. If interested respond as soon as possible.

Best,

Hawks

The man had sent you a personal email. He had invited you to be his leading lady himself. You nearly fainted when you got the email. Needless to say after an hour of research to ensure it wasn’t a joke or a scam you promptly emailed back to accept.

That was what led you here: Room 1 on the tenth floor. You were about to have a Photoshoot with the number two hero.

It felt surreal when you finally knocked on the door, but you sobered you quickly when a deep, playful voice sang back: “Come innn.”

A pair of lazy golden eyes sparkled at you as you entered. His deep red wings flexed as he gave a slow, smile.

“Hey there, kid.” He stood.

Your eyes widened. You had never seen him in civilian clothes. He had a little bit more muscle on him than you realized. He was by no means a big man, but he was fit and toned. Lithe muscles flexed beneath his Brooks Brother’s button down shirt, and his large hands were stuffed into his khaki trousers.

You were so taken aback by his casual appearance that you didn’t even notice the way his amber gaze caressed your curves, slowly and appreciatively.

“Enjoying the scenery?” He asked, laughter lacing his tone. “I know I sure am.”

The comment snapped you out of your trance.

“Oh! Gosh I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen you outside of your hero costume much, it’s...different. I mean you look amazing! You always do but—“

Shut up, y/n, just shut the fuck up.

So you snapped your mouth shut while the blonde man threw his head back and laughed. He gave you the sexiest smise (smile eyes) you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. Then He stepped closer, closing the space between you two.

“Well, I’m glad my leading lady approves.” He hummed.

Get your thoughts together, girl.

“Of course. But I was wondering, where is everyone else?”

“Well considering I set up this little meeting two days ahead of time I’m going to assume they’re all at their respective houses.”

“Two days?! Wait so the shoot—“

“Is two days from now. Ain’t I little shit?” He laughed. It was a bright, full sound that made the corner of his eyes crinkle, and despite your own confusion, you couldn’t help, but chuckle too.

“I would say; a lovable scamp,” you joked. “But, why would you ask me to come if it was just going to be the two of us.?“

The blonde fought against a smirk. It was cute how naive you were. It was a good thing Hawks had scooped your fine ass up out of the pile of headshots. Clearly, you were going to need his guidance.

“To help ease your mind a little, y/n. You’re new to all this, right?” He gestured around the studio.

“Uhh, yeah, I am.”

“I can’t imagine shooting an ad with a pro hero as your first job is easy on your nerves.” He gave you a little pouty little smile. Jesus this man was pretty.

You giggled nervously. “The number two pro in Japan at that, sir.”

“Eh,” he gave a dismissive little wave. “Whose counting?” Then he reached out to give your arms a gentle squeeze, his eyes pierced yours, fixing you in place, and you gasped a bit. It wasn’t a predatory look, but it was intense and demanding of your full attention.

“The important thing, kid, is that you’re comfortable with me. Understand?”

Flabbergasted, you nodded. It seemed to appease the avian hero because his serious expression melted into a friendly smile.

“Good, besides, I don’t bite...unless you ask me to, that is.” He added in a low voice.

Despite the friendliness in his face, something about the comment made your sex heat up for just a moment. But you didn’t have time to dawdle on that, before Hawks led you to one of the red couches in the room.

“Come on, let’s chat. I just wanna see where your head is at, Little Birdie, make sure you can really handle yourself in front of a camera.”

Your heart hammered at the nick name. “That’s sweet of you, I appreciate it.”

Hawks smiled. “So did you always wanna be a model?”

“No. I wanted to be a university student, but school is expensive and...well...money is hard to keep with the way things cost now a days.” You explained with a shrug. “But Jesus, I’m so excited! I can’t believe I’m getting to meet my idol,” you gushed, “I’ve seriously been a fan of you forever, and—oh, I’m gushing, aren’t I?” You frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

The blonde just chuckled, propping an arm up on the couch around you.

“It’s alright, y/n, I picked you out of all the other girls that entered.” He cocked a brow in a cheeky little smirk. “You could say I’m a fan of you too.” He placed his free hand on your knee and gave it a squeeze. “You’re gonna be amazing at this.” His fingers trailed up your thigh a bit before stopping.

Your wings gave an involuntary twitch at his praise.

“And those,” he nodded towards the appendages, “are going to photograph beautifully.”

“I don’t know about all that,” you shrugged, laughing a little, “but I’m gonna try my best.”

“Uh Uh,” he gave your knee a little shove, “you’re going to be the best. Here, stand up,”

Puzzled, you looked at his outstretched hand before grabbing it. He pulled you to your feet. You heart revved as he pulled you flush against his chest, and kept an arm wrapped around your waist.

“I’m gonna show you what I see when I look at you, y/n, and what the camera is gonna see as well. Are you wearing anything underneath this?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” Your cheeks burned. “Why?!”

He gave you an amused look as if you’d asked something ridiculous.

“Because, this is going to be a lingerie shoot, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable if you’re naked under this.”

“Oh...I—yes I am.”

Of course you knew this shoot called for lingerie. The shoot had specified ‘intimate.’ Why were you so shocked?

Quit being such a head case in front of him!

“Take off your clothes, Little Birdie.” He directed.

You paused.

Hawks must have sensed your hesitation because he let out another breezy laugh and added: “if it makes you feel any better, I’ll do the same, look.”

Once again that arresting look of his held you hostage. He kept his hooded eyes on you as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly slipping it off. He was definitely more muscular than you had originally realized.

Your eyes slid down to where his hands had begun unfastening his belt. It clanked as it collapsed to the ground. He didn’t take off his pants fully, but they now sat low on his trim hips exposing a dark blonde happy trail, and a v-cut that disappeared into a pair of red boxer briefs.

The avian licked his lips. There was a cocky gleam in his eye as he watched you drink in his body shamelessly.

“Your turn, Little Birdie.” He coaxed.

Well, if Hawks could do it, you could too, right?

So you eased out of your tank top and slipped off your jeans, exposing your barely covered flesh in the strappy black and red silk lingerie.

Hawks let out a satisfied; “Mmm,” as his eyes swept over you. “Perfect. Come on, let me show you something.”

He led you to the white backdrop surrounded by studio lights and camera; guiding you to stand on a black X directly in front of a camera.

He sidled you behind you, keeping his strong arms around your waist, then he gently folded your body forward.

Oh...this is...what is this?

As you struggled to formulate coherent thoughts, you felt the man’s soft lips against your ear. There was amusement in his voice as he mumbled: “I feel that heart of yours going a mile a minute, baby bird,” he chuckled. “Relax mama. I got you, ok?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his low, soothing voice rolled down your spine. You slowed your breathing.

“I know it’s nerve wracking, baby bird,” he hummed in your ear. “Imma take care of you, though, ok?”

His hands were warm and rough and sliding along your supple skin. He pulled your hips towards his, grinding you into his crotch. Your wings twitched involuntarily. Hawks sighed

“Shit,” you whispered, as your ass pressed into his groin.

He felt so good. So strong and self assured.

“That’s it, Angel.” He practically purred. “Just relax, babe. I wanted you for this,” his fingers trailed up your stomach. From the corner of your eye, you see his red wings wrap around you.

His lips were pressing into your neck now.

“You’re so beautiful. If you‘re not feeling your sexy self by the time we shoot tomorrow I’m gonna make you feel it.”

His fingers were caressing the undersides of your breasts now, teasing at their softness.

“Hawks,” you gulped, “are you sure...it’s ok to be doing this? I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Aww,” he tilted your face towards his own with a soft touch. “Of course it’s ok, beautiful. We’re just practicing, yeah?”

“But...it doesn’t feel like...like...”

“Like what, baby bird?” His wings fanned the air lazily as they cacooned you both. “Like practice? Oh but it is.”

He clutched your hand and slid it up between your breasts, his much larger one engulfed it. “Feel how your heart beat has slowed? Hm? The way your breath has evened out. You’re so much more relaxed now, aren’t you?”

“Yesss,” you sighed, but honestly it was because you were so turned on.

His clothed knee pried it’s way between your legs slightly, giving your burning sex something to grind on.

“See? I knew you could do it.” He smiled. “If you’re going to be a model, you have to know how to be cool under any circumstance, you know? For example. If the director wants us to get a little more Intimate, like this,” his long fingers dipped below your skimpy panties and brushed just above your clit. “You’ll have to keep calm and let me, won’t you?”

“I—I guess so, but,” you bit your lip and moaned as Hawks suddenly pressed his knee harder against your cunt.

“And when they tell you to touch me, like this,” his other hand reached around to wrap your fingers around the erection poking through his pants. You could feel a damp spot from the Pre that had leaked through.

“Would...would they really expect all this?” You asked. This felt so...wrong? But fuck did it feel good.

“Of course, Baby, it’s all apart of the job. That’s why what we’re doing is so important.”

Without warning, his fingers dipped between the soaked lips of your sex, breaking the quiet intimacy as you moaned with sudden pleasure.

“Fuck,” Hawks groaned. His fingers swam in your tight, wet cunt, flexing for that perfect spot. “Feels good doesn’t it, baby bird?“

Your pussy smacked from the three long digits plunging into it and every time Hawks worked his fingers your round ass grinded against his flexing dick.

“This, Hawksss-ah fuck!—this-we shouldn’t be doing this...”

“Oh, Angel,” he cooed, “it’s alright. You want this job, don’t you?”

“Yesss,” you groaned. “Yes I do.”

“It’s an amazing opportunity isn’t it?”

“It is.” You squeezed his manhood as his thumb began to press your clit. The pleasure spiking through out your body made your wings twitch against his hard, bare chest.

He moaned. “Working with me could lead to many more opportunities, Little Birdie, so long as you learn how to go with the flow. Understand?”

Swallowing hard you nodded.

“Good girl. I’m gonna take care of you, baby bird. Tomorrow and every shoot afterward.”

There was something smug in his heady voice, he spun you to face him, and two vermillion feathers detached from his wings. Your eyes followed them as they hooked into the hem of your panties and slid them down.

“Wait—Hawks. Do you expect me to—“

“I expect you to be professional, Baby bird.” He cut in, hands squeezing and massaging your thick ass. Without warning he scooped your body up and had your thighs around his waist. “You’re going to be a good little leading lady, aren’t you?” He smirked.

You fingers dug into the skin surrounding his wing joints as you held on. Your eyes were wide with surprise and hazy with desire. Fuck! you wanted this man, but this was a lot—even for you.

“I do want to do a good job.” You agreed.

“Oh you will, baby.” He lowered you against his straining dick.

“Fuck...” your head snapped back.

One hand remained on your ass cheek while another slid up below your wings, the pad of his thumb circled the skin there making you coo in satisfaction.

“God damn, Birdie. I promise, this is going to open doors for you.”

He was lowering you again, this time you felt the tip of him press between your folds.

“Wouldn’t you like that? To work for me? To be my go-to girl. My little muse?”

His wings stretched wide, catching the bright studio lights in your periphery. Your gaze, however, remained on those smoldering golden irises with their slitted black pupils.

“I would like that, Hawks.” You whispered back, your fingers stroked his feathery blonde hair.

“Ohhh,” he groaned out as he slipped your juicy pussy down on his length. “I bet you would like that, Birdie.” His wings flapped as you cried out in ecstasy.

The lights became blurred as your eyes screwed shut, and then you were in the air. Hawks held your ass firm in both hands. Every flap of his wings made you bounce along his thick member and sent delicious ecstasy shooting through your body.

Behind you, your own wings were flapping as well, as if trying to match his pace. He was gazing at you with a mix of lust and admiration.

“God, you’re fucking sexy. You’re gonna be my little muse—my little love bird, aren’t you? I’ll mold you into the perfect model. Fuckkk!”

He sighed at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. He knew you would feel amazing. The minute he saw those headshots, he knew he had to have you in more ways than one. His sharp canines found your neck and bit into the flesh.

“H-Hawks!”

“Don’t worry, baby, we’ll cover it tomorrow. I’m going to take care of everything for my little muse. Fuck! Ahh god, you feel fuuucking good.”

His balls smacked against you. The friction of his pelvis brushed against your swollen clit making your cunt convulse in pleasure. Ecstasy kept crashing over you in shock waves.

“Ohh fuck, Hawks, god-ahhh-shii!”

Your pussy creamed around the hard dick pummeling into it.

“Yeah, my little model. Pretty, little birdie.” He praised.

His wings seemed to work faster and harder making you bounce even harder. Hawks caught one of your hard nipples in between his teeth, tongue slipping around the bumpy areolas and flicking the bud.

“Oh my godddd, oh my fuck—“

Your pussy flexed around his dick as your orgasm washed over you.

“Shhh fuccckkk yes, y/n!” The blonde cried out, feeling your nails dig into the skin of his back.

You were no longer forming words as Hawks continued to bounce you on his twitching cock, sinking a finger into your asshole and adding more pressure. Another orgasm exploded over you. He kept bouncing you, his blonde bangs plastered to his sweat slicked forehead.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he mumbled against your neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You heard a couple studio lights topple over as his wings worked even harder towards his release, and when he came he came hard and hot and heavy.

His whole body tensed with the action and his head flung back. Christ. He was beautiful.

Slowly, he lowered the pair of you back on to the ground, still holding on to you.

Your mind was still swimming as Hawks pressed kisses up your throat until he reached your lips. Then he smirked.

“My little muse,” he mumbled between kisses, “I’m gonna mold you into the perfect little model. Promise.”

#bnha imagines #my hero academia #bnha #bnha scenarios #scumbag hawks #hawks simp #i simp for this man #hoevember2020 #free day #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #hawks smut #n/sfw #n/s/f/w #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #bnha smut

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redrosesartcabin · 3 years ago

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Kenji x first perspective female reader:

Things happened

—————————————————

(Hey, how is it going peeps! This was requested by @xxno-0xx . I hope you all, and especially the requester, like it. Only one warning: It involves some swearing, so if you don’t like that don’t read. If the requester doesn’t like it, please tell me and I’ll edit the story! Also: The story plays somewhere either between season 2 and 3, or somewhere around season 3. Though not in a canonical episode)

It’s crazy how things sometimes happen.

A very vague description, I know, but it’s the only way I can convey how I feel.

Things happened that made me have the opportunity to go to Jurassic Worlds Camp Cretaceous.

We had won the league as the best female Baseball team, with the price being -besides the typical golden trophy and some media glory- a trip to Camp Cretaceous for one of us. And as the team leader, I was chosen as the one who can go.

“Oh no it’s fine!”, I had said. I already had a funny feeling about the trip. But they all had insisted, “it’s fine”, they had said, “it’ll be cool” they said.

Oh and weren’t they just so right. I am super peachy.

Practically prancing through the jungle and killing Dinos with my little finger-

Ok that’s enough, I think y’all got the gist: The shit had hit the fan.

Things happened, that made everyone be gone, and suddenly it was up to us to survive on this pretend Prehistoric nightmare.

At least my beloved baseball bat had survived the fall of the Camp Cretaceous building. After that discovery I didn’t let go of it anymore. I took it everywhere with me, hitting every living being that even dared to breath in my new found friends direction.

Friends… I had never thought, before the evacuation of Jurassic World and all that crazy stuff happened, that I’d ever call any of them that. I hadn’t really found any of them to be friendship material. I love baseball and building things out of wood in my free time and had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. The only person in the group who had come close to that was Yaz, but she had been so closed off, that I couldn’t really tell before we became a group that fought for their survival. Darius also had been ok, but I was older than him and we didn’t have anything in common, so that checked itself out. Everyone else sort of annoyed me in one way or another. Especially Kenji’s pompous ass. He had appeared very full of himself and just generally narcissistic, or at least painfully self centered and pretentious.

Now imagine how surprised one might be, when one figured I was crushing on the guy.

Let’s just say, that things happened that made me see Kenji in a completely different light.

Turns out he has a good enough sense of humor to catch my drift when I speak “in sarcastic” as he likes to call it. Turns out, he was a loyal and fun friend. Turns out he was just a lonely soul, neglected by a father whose work is more important to him than his own son.

Everything turned out different than it appears about him. He still sometimes annoyed me with his pranks and especially when he wouldn’t shut up about his wealth. The latter however became very apparent as the means to show that he was someone, although he didn’t need to prove that anymore. But of course he would think that’s how people would like him, his father had taught him no better.

The first thing I mentioned somehow makes me love him even more. It annoys me, gets such a rise out of me, that it’s somehow funny again. It gives me a spark and Kenji seemingly seems to enjoy seeing that spark. And him enjoying that spark makes me somehow happy as well. It would start with a cat fight and ended in rigorous laughter.

“Why so serious?”, he would sometimes ask when I’d respond with a glare towards him when he’d steal my bat for what felt like the fifty millionth time.

“You’re getting so creative. I barely saw it coming”, I answered dryly and one could practically see the words alternating between being written in small and big letters.

“Well then you should have no problem finding your sweet baby bat then”, he cooed. Looking deep into his dark brown eyes and almost devilish handsome grin made me both want to punch and kiss him, which may have made me irritable and even madder.

“Finding? Why should I find anything if I have a living and breathing treasure map. Come here!”, I demanded with a creepily sweet grin as I’d walk towards him. Then he’d run, I’d run, we wrestled for a second on the ground only to break into a laughing fit, rolling on the floor, crying tears, resolving this nonsense prank and then getting back to either relaxing or fighting off Dinosaurs… again.

I didn’t think, however, that anything could happen between Kenji and me.

For many a reason, though only two are essential: For one, we were busy surviving, one barely had time to get downtime with the group, yet alone for themselves. Secondly, I didn’t really know, or couldn’t really tell, if he felt the same. Maybe it was my own insecurities coming to light or something, but I just couldn’t really believe it.

Seemed unlikely.

But then things happened.

Kenji and I were on the run from an especially nasty, big Dinosaur. We had been collecting some water in big canisters and wanted to head back to camp when it sneak attacked, unexpectedly.

It snared at us, opening its huge mouth, showing a row of thin, long, sharp teeth.

“Fuck off, you tooth pick mouthed asshole!”, I hissed back at it, flailing my bat at it in panic.

The reason for my irrational action was mainly, that we were stuck between two huge rocks, backed up against another rock with no way out.

Maybe hills or mini-mountain were a better description, but it’s also not important.

All that I could think of was that we were stuck and that little fucker wanted to eat us.

“Calm down, y/n, this isn’t making anything better!”, Kenji tried to reason with me. I was close to shouting some obscenities at him or a dry ‘got a better idea, genius!?’, but this time his dark brown eyes, that often had a mischievous twinkle, calmed me, instead of creating the usual spark. I crawled closer to him as we were pressed to the stone wall.

The Dino however wouldn’t give up. Vehemently, it pressed its ugly snout between the walls, stretching its uncomfortably wet tongue towards us and exhaling a nauseating breath.

I was paralyzed, as I looked at that thing, not knowing what would happen next.

Suddenly, I felt my bat being taken out of my hand. I watched as Kenji took on a fighter stance, the bat positioned over his head, ready for the hit.

“What are you doing! Didn’t you just tell me that we should calm it?”, I asked. He turned around, a frown adorned his face, “I said you should calm down”, is all he answered before he darted towards the animal.

“NO!”, I heard myself scream. I had never heard such a sound come from my throat. It was shrill, loud and all in all I couldn’t recognize myself. I was terrified, even more than when I first caught sight of this beast that had brought us into this situation.

Everything seemed to pass by in slow motion as I saw Kenji swing the bat towards its snout. At first I thought it was over for him as the Dinos mouth opened, the teeth seeming to scrape Kenji’s head, that’s how close it was to him… but then I saw Kenji swinging the bat again, directly hitting its head so that it flew against the stone wall. The beast wailed in pain, seemingly backing up, and just like that, it was gone.

“I… I made it”, Kenji first whispered, before he laughed, repeating, “I made it!”, even louder, jumping into the air and forming a victory fistbump in the air.

“That was awesome! Did you see how- Y/N?”, Kenji’s joy subsided as he looked into my angered expression. With a swift motion I took my bat back, glaring at him as I pressed out, between gritted teeth “let’s just go, hero”

Kenji seemed to have caught the sarcastic undertone of me calling him a hero, because I could physically feel his mood shift closer to mine, “hey what’s with that attitude? I just saved our lives!”

“By doing what I also wanted to do. Great!”

“You were panicking! I don’t know if you would’ve gotten a good hit by panicking. Besides, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt!”, he explained.

For a second I could feel my heart flutter, but that didn’t help my opinion on what just happened.

“But you were ready to risk yourself?”, I asked, my tone bitter.

“Why are you so mad?”, he asked, “we are safe, what more could you want?”,

“I-“, I stopped in my tracks, thinking. Yeah: What was I so mad about? He was right, I had panicked. Panic never helps with concentration and right decision making. I found it impressive, that he had the courage and the focus to fight the Dino off. But I just couldn’t fight off the thought of it going wrong. What if he would’ve been eaten?

“What-“, I wanted to repeat what I had been thinking, but could feel a hiccup, breaking the tear flood inside me. No- I was not going to cry. I took a deep breath, looking directly into his confused visage, “- what if it would’ve gone wrong, I’m just… I- I wouldn’t have known what to do without you. I can’t imagine being without you anymore”.

I saw and heard him gasp, his glance unfreezing from his confused state.

“I didn’t realize I was that important to you”, he answered.

I chuckled, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, “everyone is important to me from the group, I wouldn’t have liked any of them to risk their lives for me but- but especially not you. I- I can’t believe I’m going to say this - I had vowed to take this to my grave ya know-“

“- Get to the point”, Kenji urged me.( I wasn’t looking at him, but he later told me he had smiled whilst saying it, I however thought he was getting annoyed and was almost too scared to continue. Stupid how that sometimes works)

“- I, eh- I’m in love with you I think. Or at least I definitely feel very strongly for you”, I confessed, “there! Now you have something to use against me. Finally got something you can laugh at again on this miserable Isla-mpf”, my self deprecating monologue was interrupted by soft lips catching mine. It almost took my breath away, but then I leaned in, still not believing this was happening, though it definitely was.

“I’m not going to laugh, I love you too. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk everything if I didn’t”

“That’s cheesy, but I appreciate the honesty”, I said, wearing my usual shit eating grin as I regained confidence back.

“Oh look who's talking now”

“Oh shut it!”, I laughed and just like that, I found myself kissing him again.

“And here I thought I had to worry, but you two just ran away to make out”, I suddenly heard Darius in the background, half serious, half amused by the moment he found us in.

I quickly broke away from Kenji, grinning sheepishly, “You know how it is Darius: You get chased by a Dino, and then you need a kiss to make the boo boo go away… just so happens I got a bit of a chap on my lips, and Kenji wanted to make it real good again”, I explained, earning a silent chuckle from Kenji.

Darius rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile either, “let’s get you love birds home”

————————

And so things happened. Did we have much time to enjoy us being a couple? Not really.

Did more things happen, making everything crazier and tougher?

Did the rift between Darius and Kenji make me anxious as I was sitting by Kenji’s side, as he, with an expression that was too serious for my liking, drove the yacht?

Absolutely.

But I know, that at least he’s by my side still, as am I, and we will make things happen so that we can finally be free from this place.

Hopefully, we’ll make it.

Depends on what the Dino on the yacht has to say about it...

#request #kenji kon x reader #kenji x reader #kenji camp cretaceous x reader #kenji kon #kenji #fanfiction #jw cc #jw cc season 3 #jw cc spoilers #camp cretaceous spoilers #camp cretaceous

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kyrisflowerfield · 3 years ago

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Look At Me (Shoko)

So ginmylove on Ao3 requested:

hii!! can you do shoko or maki(its up to you) x fem! reader with “i want to be praised just for being alive” ?have a nice day!!

And here we are :D As a note I wasn’t sure if you meant high school Shoko or current Shoko so I did current, if you want HS!Shoko instead just tell me and I’ll do an alternate version of this lovely🥰

Lyric Prompt: “I want to be praised just for being alive.” Song: Look At Meeee (Mafumafu x Amatsuki)

Warnings: Blood (Transfigured humans, not you or Shoko) I guess mentions of death but it’s super slight dw, ansgt? it’s slight-

You have always enjoyed the ambience staying up with Shoko brought you. The soft clacking of keys mixed with her quiet breathing, the glow of her laptop illuminating her face. Even so, it hurt you to see Shoko’s bags steadily increasing, it would soon be 3am though time was a long, lost concept, unknown to her mind. At the end of the day you, Shoko, and every other sorcerer were pawns whose lives mattered not to those above you;

It sickened you time and time again.

“Shoko.” You sighed, her name falling of your lips like snow, as beautiful as it was the first time you said it. “It’s nearly 3 in the morning, come sleep with me.” Your heart fluttered at the soft hum she let out, her hand coming to rub away at the sleep forming in the corners of her eyes. “I have to finish this report Y/N.” She mumbled softly, a smile pulling at her lips when she took in bleary form, hair messy and ruffled from tossing under the covers (Body and mind incapable of relaxing without Shoko beside you) “I’ll join you right after so go to sleep ok?” You huffed, having expected her to say something along those lines but not allowing it to deter you. “I’ll sleep when you do ok?” You mocked, earning a light chuckle from Shoko who had already resumed typing. It was around 4am that your body, rather abruptly might you add, crashed. Passing out on the soft bed as Shoko’s typing faded into the background, the light unable to bother your now tightly shut eyes.

You woke around 8 the next morning, sunlight dim behind the closed curtains, body groaning from the measly 4 hours of sleep it got. The bed held no sign of Shoko (You can’t help but wonder if she ever slept.) though you noticed that the covers had been fixed neatly on her side as you stepped off the bed and headed downstairs. The kitchen was empty save for a neat note your girlfriend had left you describing her thoughts on transfigured humans and why it was so crucial she left you so early. It drew another sigh from you, sorcery, to you, was nothing more than a parasite.

—

You didn’t see Shoko until late noon, after completing a mission of your own. The bags lining her eyes were a deep, dark, purple, her eyes nearly shut as she cut open the odd bodies. The metallic smell of blood and something rotten you could not name filled you with nausea as you rapped once, twice, thrice, on the lab’s door. Crossing the room to stand beside Shoko you patiently watched her strip the bloody gloves off her hands before pulling her into you, nose buried deep with her hair.

“Shoko, take a break.” You hear her sigh in response, arms circling around your waist as the two of swayed amongst dead bodies full of accursed blood and human regret. For a few moments there was only silence, heavy cursed energy draped over the two of you like a blanket but the feeling of her lips placing delicate kiss on your temple soothed everything at once. “I can’t watch this Shoko, this is killing you.” You murmured, voice quiet amidst the thrum of energy beneath your feet. “I’m fine Y/N.” You frowned silently, lips parted as you spoke against her skin softly. “You were gone before I woke up this morning Shoko.” Your explanation is not needed, the unsaid vowels hang in air, invisible and yet unmistakable. Another sigh from your partner in all of this, you’re sure this is the most stressed you’ve seen her in a while. A part of you yearns for the days of mindless laughter the two of you shared more than anything. “I slept, I promise.” Though gratefully for the fact is does little to calm your fast beating heart as you swallowed, grip tightening around her.

“I can’t do this anymore Shoko.” You plead, feeling akin to a child but not bothered enough to care. “Being sorcerers, can’t we just-” You trailed off, not knowing what to say or what to want. To be non-shamans? You don’t think it’s possible, not when Shoko was such a commodity to the jujutsu world. You raised your head to look Shoko in face, hands tight on her arms as you nearly begged, your voice low within the dark, still room. “They don’t care about you Ieiri, not you or me or anyone else, can’t you see that?” “I-” You cut her off, you think if this continues, you’re sure if Ieiri dies because of this godforsaken world you’ll break into unintelligible pieces. “Why do we have to try so hard for appreciation Ieiri? Why do we need to be special? I want to be praised just for being alive, don’t you?” More silence, as though time stop as the two of you were frozen in place before she pulled you against her body, knocking the air out of your lungs whilst she held onto your body. Even if only for a fraction of a second, a millisecond, she was as vulnerable as you.

“Of course I do.”

—-

So ginmylove, I hope that met your expectations, thanks for requesting! As for everyone else I hope you enjoyed this! As always I wish you all a wonderful day, please stay safe and healthy, drink some water, get some sun, take a nap ❤ I’ll see you lovely people later

-Kyu❤❤❤

#shoko ieiri #ieiri #shoko #shoko x reader #shoko x you #shoko x y/n #request #ao3 #ginmylove #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen #anime #kyri #kyu

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

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Messages || Part 1

(Part 4 of The Crystal Ball)

Pairing: Snape x fem!reader

Word count: 9,099

Rating: M for Mature

Plot: Severus experiences a major bump in his relationship that he’s never experienced before. It’s easy to be confident in a working relationship when being together is a daily habit, but when the relationship turns long distance after summer is over, he just doesn’t know how to keep himself afloat.

Warnings: Sex scene :o (mainly at the end), tiny bit angsty

A/N: Hello everyone! :D This is part one of a two part arc within the crystal ball series so I hope I make sense in saying that Messages part 1 and Messages part 2 will both count as part 4 and 5 of the crystal ball XD (this one is long and part 2 might be just as long so I hope that’s ok :D) (also also this is officially the first of the 500 next part request… so 1 down, 499 to go XD) I hope everyone’s holidays went great!

Posted: 12/31/20

Masterlist

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Severus stood in front of his shelves of books, looking for new titles to introduce into the curriculum but none caught his eye. He ran his finger along the spines, dust coming off each one in a long streak and collected under his nail. They were all worn, their binding fabric once rich in texture now flush and smooth as the hard cover underneath. Their once-golden names rubbed off from excessive obsessive use from years of studies during and after his time as a Hogwarts student. His eyes followed his finger as he tried reading the titles, hoping one would spark a memory of a passage easy enough for his students to grasp.

I should introduce the Odd-Stir Method to the fifth years after winter holidays. I think Rotus explains it best – though I doubt they’d be able to get over his outdated terminology… I’d have to give them translation sheets though… Perhaps E. K Nimgo uses more appropriate language… even the densest of dunderheads should be able to understand her phrasing.

He’d reached the very last shelf and stood, clutching only two books from his collection and sighed, not entirely certain that his efforts to make brewing easier would even be appreciated. He wiped his finger on the rough fabric of his black vest and sighed, realizing he’d just created a very visible grey streak across his chest.

He heard a soft giggle and looked up, blushing at the beautiful woman leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen, watching him intently. Severus smiled and shook his hair to cover his face. He tapped the books in his hand with his finger, trying to draw her attention away from him in embarrassment. “Should I even try this year?”

She pushed herself from the doorframe and walked over to him slowly with a finger tapping her chin as if in thought. She slid her hands under his arms and pushed her face into his shoulder blade. “No – In fact, maybe take a break from teaching and stay here with me this year.” She’d been begging him for several weeks now as their summer fun was coming to an end.

He wanted so badly to say yes… But Dumbledore won’t allow it. It’s still too soon after… He sighed. He ran his hand along her arm and pulled it away, freeing himself to face her. “Help me pack these?” Her smile dropped and he almost winced. “You know I’ll just throw them in,” he whispered.

She nodded and gave a slight smile. “You’re so awful at packing, Sev.” She took the books from his hands and planted a kiss on his unready lips. Her smile widened at his look of joyous surprise and laughed. “You act like a schoolboy receiving his first ever kiss every time I do that.”

He pressed his palm to his mouth until he felt his stupid smile fade and frowned at her, removing his hand. “I do not. Besides… it’s hardly my fault.” He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her in for a proper kiss. He let his lips linger on hers and made sure to speak low, just how she liked. “I can’t control what you do to me.”

She bit her lip and pulled her chin down, looking up at him with innocent eyes that sparkled wickedly at him. Merlin help me. He slid his hands down her sides and played with the hem of her skirt, loving the invisible sparks of lust and tension popping in the air.

The flames of the candles scattered around the room flickered under the influence of their accidental magic, brought on by their subconscious need to dim the lights and set their favorite evening mood. His living room had never held any romance to it until her. It was the one room in the house whose floors were maintained perfectly clean. It was the one room where they constantly found themselves on the floor of.

A soft tapping from the kitchen pulled his eyes away from hers. Merlin, I didn’t mean literally. He sighed. “I have to answer back.”

She dropped her arms that had snaked their way around his neck and folded them over her chest. “I’ll go pack these into your trunk.”

He watched her march out of the room and listened to her footfall on the stairs, heavy with anger. The door to their room slammed and he headed into the kitchen. A large brown owl sat on the rim of the empty potted plants outside and tapped its beak to the window again.

“Silence already!” Severus swung the window open and took the letter from the owl’s beak. “Tell that man if he wishes to be enraging he’s doing a fine job. Next time he hands you a letter, wait for the next one.”

He tore the envelope open and read the fourth letter sent to him that day. ‘I forgot to remind you the lists will be sent out next week, though if you have the required textbooks ready, the sooner the better this year.’ Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and walked back into the living room, scribbled the title of the textbook his students had been using for the last three years and folded it up, not bothering with a new envelope.

He marched back to the owl and held the note out for it to take. “Try not to come back – or better yet, get lost on the way.”

It hooted and took the note, tapping the window once more for the apparent pure satisfaction of seeing Severus scowl and fluttered away. He closed the window with a tight snap and pulled the curtains closed. He headed out of the kitchen and looked around.

Where is she? It was around this time he’d normally sit down to read at his chair, only to be interrupted and asked to join her on the small couch instead so she could lean on him while she entertained herself with her own books – or on busy days, her work.

Severus crossed the room and headed into the foyer, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. He called out her name and listened. Silence.

He looked down at the long rug covering the center of the staircase. She’d found it on sale a couple of weeks ago and bought it for ‘the house’ claiming she was tired of the loud clomping of shoes on the stairs. Looking at the rug – along with the new matching towels and pillows and cushions for the couch – had made his chest feel unpleasantly tight for the first few days… Now he always felt a slight smile coming on when he noticed them. It was her way of moving in, knowing full well he was too scared to ask her to live with him in his grotty hovel of a house.

He headed up the steps and opened the door to their bedroom. She was laying on his side of the bed, face down on his pillow, with his books left out on his cluttered night stand. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. He closed the door behind him and stood awkwardly at the end of the bed for a few seconds.

This is all my fault. If I’d never… Merlin. I regret everything but you. “I’m sorry,” Severus whispered.

She pushed herself up onto her forearms and turned to him, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Oh Sev. Please don’t go… You’ll be gone for so long – ten months! I’m going to miss you so much! It’s going to be so hard not coming home to you every day… Everything’s going to be so much harder without you around.” She closed her eyes and fell back onto his pillow, shaking more violently than before. “Who’s going to make me soup after I finish ranting about how awful my boss is?”

He could barely make out her muffled attempt to lighten the mood and smirked, trying not to feel the growing hurt of seeing her so upset. Severus moved to the side of the bed, holding in tears that mirrored her pain, and kicked the open trunk away. He knelt on the bed and pushed her on to her side, holding her tight the moment she sat up for a hug.

He stroked her hair and bit his lip. “It only seems hard now.” He swallowed thickly. “Trust me, you’ll forget you even want me around.” He forced out a chuckle. “You might even forget I exist.”

Her hands clawed his back, pulling him closer. He let her pull him onto the bed, careful not to crush her with his weight, and allowed her arms to keep him in her sweet embrace. She was still crying into his neck and all he could do was kiss her head and press his hands into her back, pulling himself closer. As much as his heart broke when she cried, a small part of him warmed at the idea of being wanted so bad it hurt.

He was used to his brain turning on him, trying to convince him she didn’t actually care for him, despite checking to make sure he’d eaten when she got back from work, asking how he’d slept every morning, and every other little show of affection. It often times told him the small frown she wore was because of him, something he’d done wrong, despite her whole face brightening at the sight of him. All summer he’d felt like he was sitting on the edge of his seat, dreading the day she’d wake from her trance and leave him. It was hard to accept his luck when all his life he’d had anything but that.

And now here she was under him, crying over the pain she swears she’ll feel not seeing him every day… and he can’t help but want to cry over just being loved so openly and plainly. He felt guilty.

It won’t last. He closed his eyes and held her closer to him, attempting to focus on her rugged breaths of sorrow and not the cruel words ringing in his ears. We’ve only spent three months together, no one could ever feel this way for me in such a small amount of time… Not me… Not Snivellus… Not ever.

She’ll forget about me after the first month apart – less even. I’ll only cause her pain for a handful of weeks and then… then she’ll be perfectly fine without me. He pulled away as her sobs calmed and kissed her smooth salty lips with the same longing he knew he’d feel the whole almost ten long months without her. “Everything will seem normal in a matter of months. I promise you won’t feel this for long.”

She wiped her eyes and gently pushed him off her, curling up to his side and shook her head. “No. It’ll hurt this bad and worse.” She sniffed and draped her arm over his middle, pulling him closer. “Will you go over the plan again?”

He nodded. “We’ll write letters every day. You’ll visit me every weekend at the Three Broomsticks. And twice on as many weekends as I can.”

She lifted her head and kissed his chin. When she pulled away, she was finally smiling up to her eyes behind her glimmering tears. “Promise me?”

The way she looked at him, with love and hope and need, made him want to melt on the spot. I promise you anything. He swallowed. “Of course.”

She pulled away and she was no longer smiling, instead searching his eyes for something. “I really will miss you, Sev.”

He nodded and sat up, feeling the strange tightness in his chest again. He felt goosebumps on his arm despite feeling no chills, and his shirt seemed oddly restricting again. “I’ll make us dinner. Anything you wish.” He kissed her cheek and turned away, swinging his legs over the bed. He stood and crossed the room to the door, opened it, and left, giving her just enough time to mumble ‘something creamy’ before he closed the door with a snap.

~ * ~ * ~

Severus stood over his trunk and started unpacking his things. The chamber was quiet and cold with new shining webs decorating the corners and connecting rows upon rows of glass jars. The fireplace cracked in the corner, vaguely illuminating the cavity he called his office, filling the air with the scents of cherry firewood, thickly sweet.

I should thank her for the new wood. She’ll surely gloat about being right, though just imagining her smiling is enough to be worth it. Severus grinned to himself and took out a folded piece of parchment where he’d been keeping notes on what to send in his letters since he’d left her at Kings Cross station. He jotted down the ‘thank you for the new fire wood’ she’d snuck into his trunk to help him relax and slipped it back into his vest.

“Ah, Severus. Finally here I see,” McGonagall’s voice echoed in. She stood on the threshold with hands on her hips, looking around at the state of things. “You’re normally on the first train back – You will be dusting won’t you? I’d give you my spell, but as you so kindly pointed out last year, it’s inelegant wording might disorganize your… ‘systemized assortment of components’… or as I call it – clutter.”

Severus rolled his eyes and faced her. “I had business.”

She arched her brow. “I see. Well welcome back, and I suggest you get started with Poppy soon, unfortunately several vials went bad over the summer – something about cheap valerian and the Ministry’s fat pockets – she’s been raging about it since she arrived. Afterwards I think Pomona’s having trouble reviving her oleanders.”

Severus nodded and waited until the crisp clacking of her heels could no longer be heard before gathering what he needed and headed out to his usual pre-term duties as the school’s only Potions Master.

After a long night of replenishing the hospital’s stocks, an early morning brewing Come-’Round serum, and an annoying evening spent with Sprout and her plants, dinner rolled around and he hardly noticed the maddening levels of screaming and laughing and talking coming from the house tables full of old and new students.

“Severus,” McGonagall drew his sleepy attention to her. “Albus mentioned you expressed an interest in taking over monitoring the corridors at night.” She took a sip from her goblet.

Severus frowned. “I mentioned the need to double down on dawn and dusk hours. Not – ”

“That is a marvelous idea. I’m sure you will keep plenty of nosy students out of trouble this year.” She sipped her goblet again.

Severus blinked several times at her. “D-did you just hand over the entire position to me?”

She continued drinking as if he hadn’t spoken and turned back to her food, glancing over at him every so often to check if he was still glaring at her.

Severus grumbled to himself and turned back to his food. I miss ONE meeting and suddenly every tedious responsibility is handed off to me. Of course.

Soon the Great Hall was emptied of students as their prefects led them to their houses and Severus prepared himself for a short night’s rest. He spent three hours walking between corridors from one house entrance to the next, catching at least five students out after hours walking about the castle in the dead of night, and two in the early hours before the sun rose.

He sat back at the high table with a groan and stretched out his legs. The morning light filtered through the tessellated windows high above the tables and reflected off the maple-glazed sausages and glittering butter that melted over his toast.

A familiar wood owl soared down and landed on the top rail of his chair, hooting happily with an elegantly ribbon-wrapped note clutched tight in his foot. Severus suppressed a grin, keeping his usual scowl plastered over his face, and took the note, quickly unraveling it from its pink satin bindings.

2 September

My dearest Severus,

You have not replied to the letter I sent yesterday. How was the train ride and our first night apart in months? I missed you more than you could ever imagine. You said I’d be glad to have the bed to myself, but for the second night in a row I have missed your warmth and your embrace. I fear to even wash the sheets and erase your all too alluring scent… Although I will. When did we last wash them? A week ago? Please fake your death and come back to me.

Love,

Your already forgotten girlfriend.

‘Girlfriend’, his heart skipped as his eyes reread the word. He felt a strange forgotten ache deep in his core, of sleepless nights as a student wondering if he’d ever have someone to call his. It was within these very stone walls that he’d muttered curses under his breath at any student that pointed out the fact he was alone and would forever be alone. He’d been wrong, and it was a pain he wished he could go back and relieve from his younger self. He took out his quill, flipped the note over and smoothed it’s curves on the dark oak table.

2 September

My unforgettable girlfriend,

I’ve officially taken over monitoring the corridors at night. It seems McGonagall is trying to remedy my insomnia with hours of walking the halls like a soul-lost mummy in the deep caverns of Khufu’s temple. I caught seven just last night, and apparently my reprimands were deemed ‘unfair’ and ‘dumb’ by these pests we call students.

Severus

He paused.

Also, thank you for the logs. They were nice, but I will switch them out soon for something more menacing.

He folded the note and handed it back to her owl, who had been intently watching his quill feather jitter as he wrote. Her owl took the note in its beak and joined the dozens of other owls leaving through the windows.

Although the letter had suppressed his stress for a few minutes, it soon bubbled back up as the bells rang for the start of lessons. As he’d expected, none of the students had done an ounce of studying over the summer, resulting in the floors being covered in melted stirring rods, the high ceilings dripping with fluorescent watery syrup, and six cracked cauldrons from high-tempered concoctions.

But of course I’M the one writing to the ministry about replacing six cauldrons. If it were up to me, each one of those brats responsible would be writing apology letters begging for new cauldrons themselves. He started writing out the letter towards the Ministry’s Educational Mayhem Funds Committee explaining the need for new ones and how he would supposedly prevent the need for more. Perhaps suggesting teaching dogs instead is not a reasonable approach.

He skipped dinner and by the time it was a quarter to nine, he set out patrolling the corridor and this time checked every broom-closet twice. He slept, and by dawn was up again, pacing floors until the smell of eggs and citrus filled the passageways, wafting in from the kitchen vents.

Breakfast, he sighed. He made his way down and took his usual seat. At some point between his first and second poached egg-topped buttered crumpet the familiar aspen-feathered owl landed on his chair, delivering a newly ribboned note.

3 September

My hardworking boyfriend,

I do not envy those under your authority. I’m sure in the coming week, everyone will remember how strictly you rule the corridors and classrooms and will choose to stop breaking the rules. Perhaps slapping the desk harder while you yell will really make them quiver in their shoes. Speaking of heavy hands… will I see you at the end of this week? I miss visiting Hogsmeade and especially the butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks. This weekend will be a MUCH needed break from work and everything that reminds me of my boss’s red warty face. He’s driving me mad. Come down and hex him for me, won’t you Sev?

Yours always,

A previous pest.

Severus chuckled and replied immediately.

Do not tease, especially since the weekend is two days away – it feels like a lifetime when imprisoned within these walls. I shall see about a room at the Three Broomsticks. Regardless, Saturday for lunch. Noon exactly.

Severus

He handed the owl her note and stuffed the new ribbon in his pocket with the other. ‘Heavy hands’. He pressed his elbows to the table and his fists to his growing grin. He was sure Sprout would let him pick a few of her bluebonnets to take with him. It’d be a lovely surprise he was sure she’d more than appreciate.

He pushed away from the table and made his way out of the Great Hall towards the dungeons. His first lesson of the day was in a few hours. The first years are probably running Pomphrey dry on the Dreamless Sleep elixir. She’ll likely ask me about it this weekend… If I get started on it now –

The library doors opened and a shrill voice called out to him. “Oh! Professor Snape!” The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher came marching up to him with a determined look about her. “I was told to seek your advice – Professor if you have the time.”

Severus kept from rubbing at his temples and breathed out in what almost sounded like a groan. “In what are you seeking council?”

The new professor shook her head, her large bun bobbing from side to side, and placed her hands on her hips. “The library does not stock extra copies of the books I have assigned as required textbooks. I was told you’d had this problem when you first began teaching?”

Do not remind me. “Ah… yes. The library will not stock books outside the Ministry’s recommended reading. You could try convincing… Dumbledore,” the word rolled off his tongue distastefully. “But the Headmaster prefers leaving it up to the professors to figure out.” Severus turned to leave.

The woman laughed. “Is that your advice? Figure it out myself?”

Severus turned back and narrowed his eyes. “If the books you are seeking… are not stocked. Then they are not from the list the Ministry has provided you – as I’m sure you know, as we receive updated lists every summer. That means either your book is considered too dangerous – ”

“It’s not! I would hardly call unicorns and counter-clockwise counting clocks dangerous when – ”

“Or,” Severus interrupted, lowering his voice to a dangerous whisper. “They are too expensive. If some students cannot afford the textbooks, then it is your job to provide them or incorporate them into a learning plan.” Severus turned on his heels and started walking briskly down the dungeon stairs.

“And am I supposed to make a learning plan after term has already begun!”

He kept walking without turning back. “That IS the situation you find yourself in. Yes,” he yelled back. How many more of these incompetent teachers will Hogwarts endure before Dumbledore allows me the position? Talk about maddening ‘bosses’.

Severus hadn’t even sat in his chair for more than a few minutes before his fireplace burned with flames alit with minor Floo powder.

“Severus.” McGonagall’s voice drawled from within the flames.

Severus pinched his eyes closed. “Minerva,” he hissed.

“As much as I enjoy watching new teachers flop around from task to task, it is not me that applies for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position every summer. Perhaps showing some initiative would propel Albus to take you more seriously next year.”

He could hear the amused smile in her voice. He seethed in his chair for a minute. “Last time I ‘showed initiative’ I was given the whole bloody task. I am NOT filling my schedule with her poor attempt at education.” He thought for a moment. “Unless.”

McGonagall sighed. “What do you want, Severus.”

“I will be gone this weekend. Saturday and Sunday… And sometimes other weekends as well.”

The bright green flames flickered over the cherry firewood and a log fell, sparking tinier flames for a few seconds before the larger ones engulfed them.

“Alright.”

The fire cracked and then died down to the normal short flames that he liked. Well that solves that.

~ * ~ * ~

Severus stared at the densely grown purple wildflowers that filled the smallest planter in the greenhouse. The cool blues and purples of the bonnet-shaped petals made his mouth turn up in a smile, mirroring the very same one he knew he’d receive if he showed up to his date with these in hand. He clipped diagonal cuts into the stems and wrapped them in the two ribbons he’d kept from her letters. The pure pink of the ribbons shined brightly among the mellow blues of the flowers. Perfect.

Severus carefully tucked the bouquet in his inner cloak pocket and headed out towards the gate. Not feet from the door of the greenhouse he heard Madam Pomphrey calling his name from the castle doors.

“Ah! Severus! Glad to catch you before you left.” She waited for Severus to approach her. “The first years have just about drained my supplies of Dreamless Sleep. Minerva suggested having some flown in from that new shop across from Zonkos but I refuse to give the students anything I wouldn’t just make myself.”

Then why have ME make it? Severus sighed. “Of course… I’ll have that for you Monday.”

“No sooner?”

Severus refrained from frowning. “No sooner.” He turned – noticing Pomphrey’s eyes glancing down at the purple pollen smudged on his black cloak – and headed towards the gate.

~ * ~ * ~

Hogsmeade was busier now than it was when Hogsmeade trips started for students. He guessed it was because there was only one month during the year where there were no loud and screaming children bumping into people out on the streets or taking up unnecessary room in shops. If he’d realized just how pact the day would be, he’d have suggested meeting in the room he had gotten instead of out on the street.

He sat on one of the benches near the Three Broomsticks and took out his small journal, hunching over to see his small writing. On Mondays and Wednesdays I can help plan defense lessons in the mornings, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays will have to be in the evenings, so those days will have to be plans for the following day which means this Monday or Wednesday I’ll have to help plan two lessons… Sunday I can get back early… I’ll only be able to brew a fourth of the stock… I can catch up on it next Sunday if my visits with her are just Saturdays… at least for only a week or two. He quickly scribbled down his plans.

Two hands pulled his hair up out of his eyes, and he found himself staring at a pair of shiny heels. He trailed his eyes up her legs and looked up, squinting at her smiling face already diving down for a kiss on his forehead.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Severus quickly stood and took out the flowers he’d picked just for her.

She smiled so bright her eyes glowed with delight. “Sev!” She took them and jumped onto him, clinging onto his neck.

He felt his face go red and cleared his throat, acutely aware of just a few stares pointed their way. She didn’t let go of him, however. She held on tight and all he wanted was to breath her in so desperately. To pick her up and twirl her and never let go, but there were so many people. He forced a simple hug and pulled her away. The room! It should be available already.

“What’s that little smile on your face for?” She arched a brow, hugging her flowers tight.

Severus bent down and pushed her silky hair behind her ear, gently tracing his lips on the soft ridges of her ear. “Room? Now?” Am I a barbarian? I haven’t seen her all week and all I can muster are two single-syllable words? He pulled back and watched as her teeth bit down her plump lower lip.

“Take me away, Severus,” she whispered.

His brain had turned into dense fog and all he could think to do was nod and take her hand, leading her inside. He slinked past groups of people thunderously enjoying their early morning drinks and up the stairs, gripping her hand tight, making sure not to lose out on a single second of feeling her skin on his.

He pulled out his key and slipped it in the lock, turning it until it clicked, and opened the door. The room had a single bed and closed curtains, which was really all they would need tonight. What if she was expecting something better? He couldn’t afford any of the nicer, larger rooms available.

He turned and watched her saunter in, paying no attention to the room and only to him as he closed the door with his heel. Her intense sultry eyes eyed him up and down as she bit her lip, taking him in like a cold sweet treat left out for her to have on a hot summer’s day. His face went red again, and he could remember the feel of her hands all over him, begging him to give himself to her to do with at her whim.

Did she lick her lips? He swallowed.

“My Severus,” she whispered.

Mind blank, he lunged for her lips and they both fell onto the bed. His hands roamed over the fabric of her dress, outlining her figure with a yearning need. She moaned and squirmed under him, making his temperature rise with desire. In one swift move, she had him pinned down, her knees straddling his hips. Her lips teased light bruises onto his neck and a deep moan escaped his mouth.

Before the new hour had even struck, they were already under the covers in an embrace deeper than ever before. Physically, the positions were the same, needy and wild; emotionally, his soul couldn’t get enough. Her scent, her touch, every minute sound that escaped her lips, breathy or fierce, sent a fire down his body. He’d missed her so much.

“Severus!” she moaned in his ear, holding him down with a shaky grip. Her body tensed with pleasure and finally relaxed onto him, limp with euphoria.

He shivered and closed his eyes, keeping the same steady rhythm that had undone her. His hands gripped her hips and pushed her down as his heels dug into the mattress and his own hips pressed up. She was huffing in his ear, moaning, whimpering. And with the same sudden flowing energy, he followed in her pleasure. He wrapped his arms around her as the waves washed over him and hugged her tight as their breaths caught and their rhythmic movements ceased, fully satisfied.

He smiled and chuckled, laughing louder as her giggles bubbled out as well. “The room was a good idea.”

“I see you can form sentences once again.” She laughed and pushed herself up to kiss his face.

He blushed, wishing she hadn’t noticed how utterly speechless her presence had left him in only a single week of not seeing her. “Yes – well – ” Merlin, a sentence! Finish a sentence. He cleared his throat. “Lunch? Er – Would you like to send for some lunch to have in here?”

She bit her lip, poorly hiding a wide grin, and nodded. “You can go order for me. I’ll be right back.” She took her clothes and headed into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar like she always did before a shower.

He dressed quickly, headed down to the bar and ordered two meals and a few drinks. It only took a few minutes to receive his order despite the crowd of wizards and witches sitting at tables talking with friends. He flicked his wand and the meal led the way back up the stairs and into the room.

The rest of the day was spent eating and laughing on the bed, talking about mainly her work or things she’d added to his house – or ‘the’ house as they had been ‘sneakily’ calling it. He liked it, maybe this summer it could be ‘our’ house. After several drinks and hours spent in each other’s arms, they got ready for bed.

Severus wrapped his arms around her, squeezing them between the mattress and her back, and rested his head on her chest. He closed his eyes as she played with his long hair, curled it in her fingers, and smoothed it out with her palm. Within seconds sleep seeped into every corner of his mind.

~ * ~ * ~

Although breaking the news that he had to leave early that Sunday had soured their last hours together, Severus felt far more relaxed as the week went on. His memories of her warmth and softness were renewed and he could put more focus into his work, knowing what the ends of the weeks would more or less look like now.

Of course he had told her that the following weekend date would have to be canceled if only to ensure that the rest would remain free. He still had potions to restock in the hospital wing that took several days to brew single batches. And that lesson plan, he grumbled to himself.

The full week that followed had felt like one long trek up a mountain, only to reach the peak and see more mountain to climb. The weekend was spent slumped over one of his brewing tables with an elbow dug into the wood and his head glued to his palm. He stirred and stirred for hours, waited for the potion to turn purple, and then stirred for longer.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to replicate the feel of her fingers brushing through his greasy tendrils, and sighed, wiping his hand on his trousers. The room was quiet except for the slow pop of bubbles and he knew if she’d been in the room he’d have had to demand she leave, unable to brew under the tight squeeze of her hugs. He lifted his head off his palm and wrapped his arm around his middle, hugging himself close as his other hand stirred.

Once the tall jars were filled and stoppered, he walked them down to Madam Pomphrey’s office and headed to dinner. His eyes narrowed on a group of students suspiciously whispering to each other. Hufflepuffs. It was no coincidence dessert tonight was the Hufflepuff favorite, honey-stuffed bear biscuits. Their house door was only a corridor away from the kitchens and there was always left overs of this particular dessert for some reason. Sprout denied having anything to do with it, Of course.

He waited in his office watching the clock and smiled as the hands marked the start of After Hours. He stood and smoothed out his teaching robe, preparing for an eventful night of patrolling. He started with the other houses first, going from top floors to the bottom, and allowing the Hufflepuffs plenty of time.

He finished his dungeon rounds and headed up to the main corridor. He crossed it with a light stroll, and turned the few corners into the Hufflepuff and kitchen passageway. The kitchen door was left ajar, and a creamy warm light seeped into the shadows. Severus stalked through the dark and pushed the heavy kitchen door wider, observing the chaos in secret.

Six Hufflepuffs stuffed the cookies into sheer golden bags and tied them around their hips by the stings like valued coin. Two were reaching for the jars of deep golden syrup placed high above cabinets while the others overloaded the biscuits with slices of grilled pear chunks.

He stepped into the kitchen and held his hands behind his back, glaring at the back of their heads. He could see their shoulders tense one by one until they all stopped their movements and turned around ever so slowly.

Severus licked his lips and lowered his voice to a growl. “Detentions. Scrubbing cauldrons and boiling devilpods.” Severus flicked his wand and every last treat disappeared from their sticky hands. He marched them to their house door and slammed it hard behind them.

He was half way to his office when it suddenly dawned on him. Six detentions? Where in Merlin’s shiny bald head would he fit six hours of detention supervision in his schedule? His hands fisted at his sides and an angry growl roared out of him into the darkness.

“Shhh!” A portrait hushed from up the nearest stairs.

Potions. Severus stalked down the dungeons stairs. Lesson Plans. He threw his office door open. Detentions! He slammed the door shut and glared as a jar threatened to topple off his shelf. “When does it end!” he snarled.

It was two weeks into the first term and his patience had already run dry. If he wasn’t going to see her this weekend either, then there was no reason to hold out on punishments for misbehaving brats. There was no more scraping the bottom of the barrel for mercy for any student or coworker.

His words dripped with venom, his actions were sharp, and what little restraint he had shriveled and died. Everywhere he went the whispers followed, ‘Careful, Professor Snape is coming this way.’

~ * ~ * ~

20 September

Of course. Next weekend it is then. I miss you, Sev.

Yours Always

Severus sighed and pinched his eyes closed. The guilt in his gut had clawed its way into his veins and was now circulating his whole body, making him cold with worry. This was the second weekend he canceled on her and after expecting anger, she’d delivered a short but loving message showing how much patience she had for him.

20 September

I’m sorry. I miss you too. I’m sorry, truly.

Yours, Severus

He handed his reply to one of the school owls in the owlry and watched it fly off into the greying sky. The wind was chilly as it brushed passed his nose and hair, sending goosebumps down his arms. He stuck his hands in his pockets and squeezed his eyes shut as more guilt shivered up his core. She hadn’t yet mentioned the fact he wasn’t replying every day to her letters anymore, and that made him all the more scared. Was that her way of telling him she had expected he wouldn’t keep up with his promise?

Merlin, I’m an awful boyfriend. He forced a trembling laugh. Couples were supposed to hug and kiss and lay in each other’s arms and talk often weren’t they? He didn’t know anymore. It had seemed so easy over the summer. He’d felt so proud when she called him her boyfriend, especially when he knew he was doing everything right. Bringing her flowers, helping her with work, complimenting her every morning and night before and after work. He’d felt he earned the title.

But I don’t deserve it now. He barely talked to her, had broken all his promises, kept canceling on her, I keep disappointing her. He began walking down the spiraling stairs down the owlry, hardly taking in his surroundings, mind haunted by his past. Words floated in his head, voices that made him tense with rage. ‘Stop lookin’ Snivellus. You’ll never find a girl who’ll ever want you.’ The walk from the owlry to the dungeons was a tormented blur.

His office glowed green as the fireplace flames waved on an old burnt log, an inch high and ready to fizzle out. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and picked up one of the cherry wood cuts. He wrapped his arms around it and carried it into his room, placed it in the fireplace, and shot red sparks from his wand into it.

It caught fire instantly and soon a thick sweet scent filled the air. He wrapped his cloak around himself, still feeling the cold chill from the outside, and fell onto his mattress, pressing his face into his pillow. He welcomed the summer memories, allowing them to fill every crevice of his mind.

He missed the way she looked at him. Missed the way his heart skipped every time she did. He closed his eyes tighter and started to sob into his pillow. I miss her hugs. I miss her warmth. He couldn’t even explain to himself how much he missed just rambling to her about small unimportant things and blushing when she actually paid attention to him. It was hard to experience the fullness of their relationship over letters and two-day visits alone. And even harder now that he couldn’t even keep up with that.

He wiped his face and huffed roughly, turning onto his back. He felt exhausted and depleted and it didn’t take any effort at all to close his eyes. He gave one final sigh and – Fuck. I have essays to grade.

~ * ~ * ~

28 September

I’ll see you soon! Same room, order dinner, bring it up, and close your eyes! No peeking and no barging in! I’ve got a little surprise…

Severus smiled and put the letter in his pocket. He picked up the bronze key that she’d slipped into the envelope and ran his finger over the smooth edges. She’d picked the same room he had gotten them. Either she was as broke as he, Or that room actually meant something to her now. He leaned back in his office chair and crossed his arms, holding the key close to his heart.

There was a knock at the door and he quickly slipped the key in his pocket and sat forward. “Enter.”

McGonagall pushed the door open. She stepped in and sighed happily, looking around at his dusted shelves and turned, quickly erasing her look of satisfaction. “Well, Severus. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I must. Your requests to hold the meetings for week days next month have been denied. There are too many teachers and everyone is busy most class days.”

Severus gave her no response and stared at his hands as they began to tremble. He squeezed them into fists and pressed them to his knees.

She looked him over from across the room and frowned. “However, like always, Hogsmeade visits will be kept free… The meetings will be held on the weekends between Hogsmeade visits, and there are only two…” She stood for a few seconds, still looking at him, as if having expected some note of frustration from him, or any sort of disgruntled response. “You’ll only be missing two weekends…”

“I’ll have missed four in total by next month,” he whispered.

McGonagall crossed the room and waved her hand over the empty space in front of his desk, summoning one of her office chairs to sit in. “Might I ask what it is you’re missing out on?”

Severus leaned away and kept his eyes down, his hair falling over his face like protective curtains. McGonagall and him had never talked about anything other than lessons, Hogwarts, or the Ministry. She hardly knew anything about him and he had never asked a thing about her.

“Does it have something to do with whoever you gave those flowers to?” She smiled when he scowled at her. “Poppy might have mentioned…”

Severus looked away again, deciding to fix his energy on glaring at his burnt fire log and the bit of charred entrails he’d accidently dropped last time he prepared a potion in here.

McGonagall stood up and waved her hand over her chair. “I’ll see to it that after October, you get the weekends free, as you requested.” She looked around at his unswept floor and tisked. “Let me know if you need that spell I mentioned.” She fixed her emerald green hat and left his office.

Severus stared at the door and nodded. He had no doubt she’d keep her word. Some bad news… but mainly good? Maybe I won’t entirely ruin tonight with this.

~ * ~ * ~

The Three Broomsticks was just as crowded as before, except the wizards all looked like they’d stopped bothering to take any sort of sobering tonics. Severus ordered their dinner, sparing no expense. Cheesy onion rings, three types of dips, a lettuce salad, fruit salad, battered fish with onion gravy and mash, toad in the hole, two drinks, and garlic chips to share. It was a feast of everything she loved and anything she could be in the mood for tonight and anything they wouldn’t eat he was sure she’d be glad to take back with her.

He waved his wand and followed the trays up the stairs, hissing at rowdy wizards that almost bumped into the food as he went, and stood outside the door. He closed his eyes and knocked. He heard it open and a surprised gasp.

“Are we dining with the Queen?”

Severus’ lips pulled up into a coy grin. “I’m dining with a queen.”

She giggled and pulled him in by his cloak and shut the door behind him. She slid her arms around him from behind and pressed her chin into his shoulder, holding him close. Her breath fanned over the ridges of his ear as she spoke low and quiet. “Then you are my king.”

Severus bit his lips and opened his eyes. There were a few candles hovering around the room and red sparkling petals on the floor. He could feel himself shaking with anticipation and before he could tempt himself, he moved forward and placed the trays of food on the table by the closed curtains.

“Turn around, Sev.”

He let out a shaky breath. Whatever the surprise. I don’t deserve this. He swallowed and spun on his heel slowly, dragging his sight along the floor and stopped at her silver heels. His eyes trailed up her legs, her curves, her glowing face, and flowing hair. She wore silver lace that sparkled with her eyes and a sheer flowing green night gown with feathers at the cuffs and hem of the wide trail.

A heat started burning at his core, and his face flushed red with color. She was wearing his house colors again and an immediate rush of greed flowed through his veins. Since he was young it had been instilled in him what those colors meant. Silver and green were a Slytherin’s pride, a Slytherin’s territory, it meant it was Slytherin owned.

He trailed his gaze all over her body. “Mine,” he growled.

She bit her lip and slowly let the sheer gown drop and pool at her feet. He crossed to her and let his hands roam over her soft skin and plump curves, squeezing and gripping with need and want. She pressed herself closer, putting pressure on his hardened member and looked up at him. He met her eyes and whimpered; her eyes sparkled with a wildness that sent shivers down his spine.

“I need you,” he huffed, his voice low. He reached down and squeezed her curves, pressing her closer into him, feeling the pressure on him mount and the tense heat between them rise.

“I need you too, my wonderful boyfriend,” she whispered.

His breath caught in his throat. ‘Wonderful boyfriend.’ He looked at the deep red petals on the bed and pulled away. He squeezed his hands together, trying to stop the shaking but all it did was make it spread down his whole body.

She frowned with concern. “Severus?”

His breath came out in huffs and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling hot stinging tears run down his icy cheeks, cold with dread. I have to tell her now. I can’t wait ‘till after. I can’t… I can’t –

“Severus?” she repeated more urgently and pressed her palms to his jaw. She ran her thumbs over his cheeks and wiped away the river of tears. “Tell me,” she whispered.

He sniffed and sat on the edge of the bed, bending his head low enough for his hair to fall forward, shielding him from the world. “I’m not a good boyfriend,” he sobbed. “I haven’t been responding to your letters… I’ve been canceling our dates… And – I have to cancel two more. I can only see you during Hogsmeade visits next month and – ”

She sat next to him on the bed and pulled him into her, rubbing her hand up and down his back gently. “I know you’re busy, Sev. That doesn’t make you a bad boyfriend. Your job as a professor keeps you in the castle… and that’s ok…”

“It’s not ok…” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed his nose into the crook of her neck. “You were crying all summer and I promised you – ”

“I was just scared, Sev. I’m so sorry. I was so upset and I missed you so much already that I made you promise me something you couldn’t keep, just to make myself feel better…”

He nuzzled closer and ran his hand down her arm.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Sev. I should have asked you to send me notes and messages only when you had time… I shouldn’t have put you in a position to cancel dates we’d planned before the school year even started… You’re everything I want. I promise… Dates on Hogsmeade visits sound wonderful.”

He sobbed once more, taking in her words. He didn’t feel she had any hate or loathing, only understanding and care for him. He wasn’t used to this. I don’t deserve her. And yet here she was, giving herself to him, accepting him, caring for him, even after he’d broken his promise and disappointed her countless times. He let his nose trail up her neck and pressed his lips to her warm skin. She tilted her head in response, exposing more of her neck for him and all he could think to do was kiss her tender skin harder.

She giggled and pushed him away with a wink. She moved herself up the bed and laid back against the pillows, moving her finger to motion him over. He followed her, kicking off his shoes and kissed her lips, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He crouched over her, cornering her, and moaned when her legs wrapped around his waist. Her hands ran up and down his thighs as his own hands tore at the delicate lace she wore, unwrapping her like a gift.

He leaned down and began marking her with needy kisses, leaving red marks all over her chest and replacing the ones that disappeared with newer ones. She held him close, encouraging more as her hands played with his long hair. He let his tongue slide out and licked over sensitive areas with hunger. With every moan she gave he grew harder, finally needing to undo the buttons of his constricting trousers.

Her hands found him, and released him from his pants. He groaned and pressed himself against her while her fingers got to work on the buttons of his jacket, vest, and shirt. He slid himself between her lips only, rocking himself, groaning as their bodies began to grind with eagerness.

He tore his mouth away from hers and shrugged off his clothes quickly, sliding off his trousers and pants and threw everything out of his way, unable to keep from her any longer. He closed his eyes and moaned as he slid in slowly, enjoying himself fully. He looked down and pulled back out just as slow and made sure he was fully slicked and glistening before pushing back in all the way and cuddling into her open arms.

“I love you Sev,” she moaned.

He moved his hips slow as he held her, savoring every sensation. He was warm and secure in her arms, like he often felt when they cuddled in bed after long days. He hugged her close and closed his eyes, moaning into her neck with every push he gave. He felt close to her, confident in their shared affection for each other and he realized there was never anything to fear. He moaned and trembled in her embrace as he built up their pleasure slow and steady, knowing soon the romantic mood would dissolve into pure lust and need. He needed to show her how much he loved her with every pleasurable push he gave.

She’s getting wetter, he couldn’t help but notice. Nor could he help the sudden throb he gave at that thought. I need her. He pushed his hips harder and whimpered at her moan. Her hands tangled in his hair and pulled, sending a jolt of electricity down his spine. The slow give and take of his movements turned into hard pounds sending more vivid waves of pleasure throughout his body and hers.

Severus pressed into her, holding her tighter, pounding faster, making sure every wave was immediately replaced by the next. He groaned and held her locked in place as every ripple of pleasure was followed by his name moaned in his ear. He breathed out shakily as her legs wrapped around his waist squeezed tighter and her back arched. Her nails raked across his back as he pounded harder, faster, until her breath caught and her muscles stiffened.

He throbbed as she tightened around him and pushed harder as she relaxed under his weight, letting him press his body back into her inviting curves that cushioned him so perfectly. His breathing was rugged, gasping, trying hard to hold out longer, feeling the pleasure begin to boil over. He dug his face into her neck as the final tidal wave crashed over him and the perfect rhythm he had going broke with every throb he gave deep inside her.

“You’re made for me,” he gasped, shuddering as the wave washed over every nerve in his body. He relaxed completely and her arms held him tighter as she rubbed slow circles on his back.

She pushed his chin up with her finger and kissed his nose. “We’re made for each other. Soulmates.” She whispered.

The message from fate couldn’t be any clearer as they caught their breathes and breathed each other in. They had thoroughly enjoyed not only each other’s bodies, but their hearts and souls as well in this blissful evening.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Masterlist

(Part 4 of The Crystal Ball)

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@wow-life-love4

@x-avantgarde-x

@dandyrua

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General taglist:

@setsuna-meiou31

@severuslovebot

@bionic-otp

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Thank you to those who requested a fourth part and for all the lovely comments on part three and messages in my ask box (which I will answer in the coming days :D )!

#severus snape #pro snape #severus #snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #severus x reader #severus x you #snape x reader #snape x you #snape fanfic #snape one shot #snape x fem!reader #severus snape one shot #snape fanfiction #one shot #fanfic #fan fiction #snapedom

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