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stressisakiller · 4 years ago

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I'm Glad it's You

Steve Rogers x reader soulmate AU

As you wish part 3

Summary: A difficult conversation and a whole lot of fluff

Warnings: none, couple of curse words, mentions brainwashing

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I finally got to this chapter!! I am so sorry it took so long life has been hectic. Hope yall like it!

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Blinking your eyes open you are surprised to see that you are still in the living room. You can't remember falling asleep last night. Then you feel the arm that's thrown over your stomach and the breath of the super soldier sleeping beside you. Right you think, Captain America is my soulmate and we fell asleep watching the princess bride. That was a sentence you never thought possible.

You carefully shuffle around for a better angle to see the man next to you. His mouth is slightly open and he had moved from mostly sitting up to lying on his side, one arm under your head the other around your waist. His hair is adorably messy, you wouldn't have thought that his hair could be anything but perfect. It is strangely endearing to see him like this, completely relaxed and looking slightly ruffled.

Your gaze on his face seems to rouse him from his sleep, eyes slowly blinking open and taking in the world around him. He startles awake when he realizes how close you are and the fact that his arms are wrapped around you.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean..” He starts apologizing while trying to untangle himself from you.

You cut him off by snuggling closer to him, your voice is muffled by his chest as you speak.

“Don’t you dare apologize, that was the best sleep I’ve had in ages, plus you’re my soulmate, I doubt cuddling on the couch all night will be the worst thing we do.” You look up to see a slight blush painting his cheeks at your words.

“I never said it was," he counters, still a little flustered, "but we only just figured this out last night and I didn’t want to assume anything.” He quickly gains his composure back, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of you in his arms. That is until Tony walks in..

"Please no sex on the couch, it's a bitch to clean." He states loudly causing you to laugh at his antics. You force yourself to leave the warmth that is Steve's arms and walk over to Tony who is grabbing a cup of coffee.

“I’m still mad at you, you know, for not telling me earlier.” You state matter of factly. "All this time I thought I'd end up dying alone because of one of your experiments gone wrong, and it turns out that you knew who my soulmate is for months."

He looks at you for a moment, contemplating how to respond before softening and giving you a kiss on the forehead,

“I’m sorry little Buttercup, I should have told you earlier and not just assumed that you already knew.” You smile at this softer side of Tony, the side that he usually only allows you to see.

You pour yourself and Steve a cup of coffee, asking him how he likes it.

"A good amount of cream and a spoonful of sugar." He states looking a little sheepish. You smile at the fact that Captain America likes a little coffee with his creamer.

You jump slightly when you feel his arms sliding around your waist and his chin on your shoulder.

"Thank you, doll, that looks perfect." His voice is soft in your ear. You quickly realize Steve is an affectionate man that likes to cuddle and is quickly warming up to the fact that you enjoy it too.

You lean back into his embrace, reveling the simple fact that you could. You found your soulmate and you were already head over heels for the man.

Your mom always loved to cook and she taught you when you were young. So you decide to make up some pancakes and french toast for breakfast, after all, it isn't everyday that you find your other half.

Tony and Steve help set the table and everything while you cook. Steve askes if he can help but Tony knows that you enjoyed taking care of the cooking by yourself. That may partially come from the fact that, for the most part, Tony is a terrible cook and you don't want him anywhere near your food.

Once the table is set and you are well on your way to cooking breakfast, Steve and Tony sit down and start to talk. Steve, always the one to go straight to business, begins to ask about the girl he brought in the day before.

“She’s still unconscious, from the look of her she's been in some terrible fights, she has multiple gun wounds and some scars that look to be from some wicked knife wounds.” Tony answers, feeling a little bit of sympathy for the unconscious girl in the medical wing.

“Well all the same, I need to find out who so is and why she shot me.” Steve answers allowing a little bit of the exasperation he is feeling to slip into his words.

“She shot you?” Your voice is laced with worry and you walk up to him, placing the food in your hand on the table, “are you ok?” Your eyes search his body to see if you could find the wound he spoke of.

“Yes doll, she shot me. I had the bullet removed and the skin is almost completely healed." His voice is gentle, reassuring, letting you know that there is nothing for you to worry about.

"Anyway, it was like she wasn't shooting to kill. It was like she aimed for the spot that would cause the least amount of damage." His entire face is scrunched up in confusion, before he shakes his head and continues. "But I must speak with her when she wakes. That is the only way we can find out for sure.”

“Well until then, let's eat and then maybe you can come up with me to my lab so I can make you that punching bag.” You say setting the last of the food onto the table and grabbing some orange juice.

“You weren’t kidding about that?” Steve's voice is incredulous, he really didn't think that you would actually make a punching bag for him.

“Of course I was serious, I never kid.” You can’t help the smile that slips through the serious look you are putting on.

The next two days pass with you and Seve spending as much time together as possible. You are quickly able to develop a punching bag for him and even develop a couple of smaller items to help make missions easier as well. You are surprised how happy it makes you to have Steve in the lab with you. You share stories of your childhood and are surprised by the similarities, especially when it comes to your health. He tells you about Brooklyn, and his friend Bucky. About trying to get drafted and the events that lead to him becoming Captain American. You enjoy how willing he is to share his life with you and how easy it is for you to return the favor. You are in the middle of telling him the story of how you met Tony when Jarvis comes over the speaker.

“Mr. Rogers, the woman you brought in has awoken.”

You look at each other before rushing down the halfway to the medical wing. Steve steps in first and you quietly follow him, not wanting to get in the way.

“Oh good you’re awake,” Steve’s voice is harder than you had ever heard before, and you watch as the girl tenses up even more.

“Now I get to ask you all of the questions that I’ve been waiting to ask you for the past 3 days.” You watch him pull a chair up and sit, his pose meant to intimidate.

“Who are you? Why did you shoot me? What were you doing in that town and where did you get these?” You flinch slightly at the anger in his voice, glad that it isn’t currently directed at you.

Steve is holding up a pair of dog tags, and you wonder what they have to do with anything. The girl seems to be reeling from the questions trying to decide how to answer. You are curious as to what she will have to say. Her voice is desperate when she finally speaks.

“My name is Alison, my father is Hydra and forced me to become one of their experiments, a soldier for them. I was planning on escaping but I never could, I couldn’t leave him there.” Leave him? Leave who you wonder, her voice grows more desperate when she speaks of him, he must be important to her. You focus back in on what she is saying.

“I couldn’t leave him, not when I could do something to save him. I couldn’t leave him there all alone.” You can tell that she is close to tears as she speaks and that there is no lie in her words.

Steve balks, “Wait a minute, you’re Hydra.” He spits the words out at her causing you to look at him in confusion.

“Not by choice.” Her voice is steel. She holds no love for her father or this Hydra organization.

Steve finally asks the question that is bugging you. “Alright then, who is this “he” you keep mentioning?” He leans back crossing his arms, waiting for her answer.

She stares at him for a moment, as if deciding whether she can trust him or not. She seems to come to a conclusion. Taking a deep breath she answers,

“My soulmate, the soldier, the man on the dog tags, James Buchanan Barnes.” You can't help but gasp, James was Steve’s best friend, he had told you all about him the last couple of days. Your gaze immediately turns to Steve to see his reaction, his whole body has gone stiff, his eyes narrowed, teeth clenched.

“You’re lying. I watched him fall from the train, I watched him die! There is no way in hell he is your soulmate.” His anger is rolling off of him in waves.

You however remain strangely calm after the initial shock of her words. What she said makes sense, after all a 95 year old super soldier who was assumed dead for 70 years is your soulmate. Who's to say that James didn’t survive the fall?

You step up to Steve and softly place your hand on his shoulder.

The girl is still frantically trying to convince him, “I’m not lying! I swear! Hydra got to him. They made him into a weapon, they brainwashed him and put him on ice when they didn’t need him so that they could control him better. I swear, I’m not lying!" Her voice is practically hysterical at the end.

Leaning in to Steve you murmur to him,

“Steve, you survived an airplane crash and being frozen in a glacier for decades. Maybe she is telling the truth.” Your voice is soft, placating.

He turns to you, the hardness of his face softening at the sincerity he can see in your eyes.

“Fine,” he says turning back to the girl, Alison, “I can’t fully trust you and I can’t let you go, so you will have to live here in the tower, under surveillance. If you want us to trust you, you will have to prove yourself trustworthy.” Steve stands after this declaration, unlocking the cuffs on her wrists. You turn to her,

“I’ll make sure that they have a room ready for you as soon as you are well enough to leave the hospital.” You give her a soft smile, heaven knows she needs it. You pause a second, alone in the room with her, Steve had walked swiftly out the door as soon as he had undone the cuffs.

“I just have one last question,” she nods at you when you pause, “I know you shot Steve. But you missed anything important on purpose, didn’t you?"

She just gives you a secret smile and lays back against the pillow, but it is all you need to know the type of woman she is. You can tell already that you like this girl, and that it won’t take you long to trust her. Giving her one last look you step out the door, calling for Jarvis to make sure a room is ready for the new guest. You have a Steve to find.

He is exactly where you expect him to be, punching the shit out of the punching bag you made him.

“Hey Soldier.” You call to him, as you lean against the doorway. You watch as his body slouches at the sound of your voice, today was a lot.

“She said that Bucky is her soulmate,” his eyes are red as they catch yours, “what if he is alive and I could have saved him. All this time I thought that I watched him die and now there is this chance that he is alive. What if I abandoned him?”

His voice breaks at the question, he looks so vulnerable. You step quickly towards him, keeping your movements light. When you reach him you take the hand that is hanging limply by his side and place it on your cheek.

“Hey, love, look at me.” His eyes slide up from the floor. “There was no way you could have known and nothing you could have done to help. If he is alive, I will be right there with you and we will do whatever it takes to get him back. He is your family, and that makes him mine, and we don’t leave family behind.” His eyes are full of tears as he leans his head against yours.

The toll of the day, makes itself apparent in the slouch of his shoulders and the weight of his forehead. You slowly pull yourself out of the embrace, grasping his hand and pulling him with you.

“Come on, we both need sleep and there is no way in hell I’m letting you sleep by yourself after the day we just had.” He nods and follows your gentle pull to your room in the tower.

Since you have lived here the longest you have one of the nicest rooms, save Tony of course. Entering the room you have Steve sit on the edge of the bed while you start up the shower for him. You place out a couple of towels out on the vanity and step back into your room.

Steve hasn’t moved since you walked into the bathroom. You step up to him and gently place your hand on his cheek.

“Love, I have the shower running for you, everything is set out and I placed a clean pair of sweatpants and a shirt in there for you, they should fit. Go ahead and get cleaned up and then you can come lay down.”

He stares at you listlessly for a moment before nodding and moving to do exactly as you suggested. As he showers you change into your pjs, you would take your shower in the morning. You grab the book on your bedside table and allow yourself to get lost in the words for a moment. The sound of the shower turning off brings you back to reality, as Steve steps out of the bathroom in just the sweatpants.

Your first thought is holy shit followed quickly by the thought that whoever decided that you would be the perfect soulmate for this specimen might have been mistaken .

Steve is having a similar train of thought, looking at you in your too large shirt and messy bun, knowing that behind your beauty is a heart of gold. He can't believe his luck.

He walks to the other side of the bed, drying off his hair and throwing the towel in the hamper. Pausing for a moment at the empty side of the bed, searching your face for any trace of doubt. Instead all he sees is you smiling at him and gesturing for him to take his place beside you.

Settling into the bed he is surprised when you lean over and place your head in his lap.

“I’m glad it’s you.” He smiles at the soft admission, thankful that he finally found you after all these years.

“I’m glad it’s you too, doll. For the longest time I thought I would never find you, I thought you may not even exist. But I did and you are even more amazing than I could have ever hoped for." He pauses for a moment deciding whether to say what's on his mind or not. He is hesitant as he starts to speak.

"Thank you for today, for calming me when I needed it and for being there for me. Not many people have seen me cry, but I’m glad that you have and that you aren’t disappointed in me for not staying strong.” At his words you immediately sit up and stare him straight in the eyes.

“You listen here, Steve Rogers." You poke him in the chest as you speak. " I never want you to feel like you have to keep up appearances when you are around me. You may need to be strong for others but not for me. I am here for you, no matter what, and that especially includes the moments where you can no longer be strong. You better remember that, I will never judge you for the way you feel.” Taking in your intense stare, Steve feels warmth spreading through his body. Yes , he thinks, he is very glad that it's you.

Smiling at you and nodding Steve grasps your arms and pulls you into his chest, savoring the feeling of your head resting over his heart. He can’t remember the last time he felt as content as he does in this moment. The world may feel like it's moments away from crashing down around him, but right now all he can think about is you.

Tagged users: @writerwrites

#as you wish #steve rogers imagine #steve roger x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #soulmate au #soulmate tattoo #marvel imagine #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers

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fae-redux · 4 years ago

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im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t.

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter.

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean.

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him.

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone.

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes.

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his.

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life.

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate.

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason.

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning.

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls.

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back.

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

#dukeceit #remus sanders #janus sanders #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #intruceit #awen writes #its the floof guys #im also getting into human au stuff and like punk sides #you can blame tulip for that one #punk janus is a classic tho #imo anyways #remus uses pet names because all the others cringe something awful whenever he uses them and janus is the only one who gets normal ones #did i project my wish to be called honeybee into this fic? yes #would i do it again?#also yes #hey alex #go listen to falling for u by mxmtoon thats what the titles from

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kill-ie · 4 years ago

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Here have some rather odd threats

I will swallow your leg

i will liquify your eyeballs and make you drink your eye juice

i will cut the webbing between your finger with a rusty knife and make you lick up the blood

i will replace your stomach with a small black whole and cause your body to slowly implode and be crushed from the inside out

sit down before i bash your empty head with 39 spoons and a fucking bible

i will literally rip every bone out of your body and turn it to jello then force feed it to you

i will turn you into a fucking potato and play soccer with you till i get bored and feed you to a pig if you say that again

i am going to shove a butternut squash so far down your throat your stomach will start reciting the bible

i am going to chop your hands off, turn them into gloves and then strangle you with them on

i will skin you alive and wear you as a fursuit

i will boil your teeth

i will roast your ribs and sell them to the nearest chinese restaurant

im gonna dismember you for doubting me

i will shove you into the mc donalds toilet while eating my happy meal and pouring your protien shake over your head. i will then remove your teeth and use them in place of ice cubes. you will finish the tooth cola with toilet water and protien shake soaked head and shirt

i will skin you, and then i will melt your bones. i will then solidify them into one large cube, and then carve several sculptures of you. i will then throw said sculptures at your mother, and say "that was a pretty good joke you made, have several of the same one so it becomes overused and never funny again, like most dad jokes

shut the fuck up before i turn your dick inside out with a peeler

who's stopping me from finding your house and pissing in your frudge huh

i will break out your third vertebrae and use it as a cock ring

i will turn your ribs inside out

i will double the amount of bones in your body

i will turn you inside out

i swear to god ping everyone here again i'll fucking get a rusty spoon and scoop your fucking eye goop out then shove it up your fucking anud with a shit of hydrolic acid

i am going to use temporal manipulation to age you into a boomer so your body is too old and frail to stop me from chopping you up into square shaped pieces and building a mini minecraft house with your body

i'll fucking disect you and put your brain into three frogs

i will teleport into your fucking driveway and piss on your car before entering your house and filling your entire fucking prostate with ranch cum

i will rip your hands off your body in your sleep

i'll horribly crop your entire body

i will build a chair out of your bones

fuck off or i will make you shit your own teeth like kidney stones

i will find your house, burst into your bathroom while you are showering and fill your sinuses with cement

i'll send peppa pig to suck you off

i will shoot a hole in your hand and use it as a fleshlight

i hope you accidentally put water in your frosted flakes

shut the fuck up before i sew your mouth shut with your computer wires

i will not hesitate to fill your fleshlight with thumbtacks

i will crack your dick like a glowstick

shut the fuck up or i'll rip out your spinal cord while you are sleeping

i will grind your bones into hot chocolate

i will serve some of your cock for thanksgiving instead of turkey

i will personally fucking shove your spinal cord up your arse and rip it out so you'll spin like a damn bayblade if you dont shut the fuck up

i will bisect your testicles and make salad out of your skin

i will literally shove your remote up your ass so deep you gotta bite down to switch the channel

i will literally rip your toenails off one by onr and shove them up your ass and then shove a chalkboard coated dildo up there so you know what the sound of nails on a chalkboard sounds like echoing in the empty chambers of your lower intestine

then feel the wrath of a thousand suns, the weight of the earth, moon and stars will strike you down with such force and accuracy that you will know no ending to the suffering. your sins will follow you to hell, and at deaths grave repose, you will have no eulogy, no mourning will be done that day. only celebration, instead, those that you knew in life will dance on your sodden amd accursed grave, your rotting corpse will be the subject of jeers and laughter. jokes, numerous in nature will be made at your expense, misery and hatred will be had at you in hell where you belong, lucifer himself will make great amusement of torturing your decrepit and downtrodden soul into the vast eternity of ever moving time

i will fill your garden with uncooked pasta and play the saxaphone with your spine

i will personally unbraid your DNA from the inside

i'll use your mouth to make instant noodles

i'm gonna line a treadmill with sand paper and grind your teeth on it

i will swallow your organs like a fine cuisine

i will glue your hair to a pocket rocket and send your scalp to space

i will scramble your kidney and feed it to you on a biscuit

i will find you and eat your fridge

if you do that one more time i will inhale your vocal cords

i hope you get strapped to a chair and forced to listen to jar jar binks playing the recorder for the rest of the decade, fed with a single slice of bread for each meal

if you dare fucking talk again i will rip out your urethra and use it as a belt

i'll cut you with a kitchen utensil only master chefs have heard of

i will turn you into a desert and the blood that pumps through your being will be the sand that keeps the desert dead

i will use your forearms as chopsticks to consume your kneecaps

im gonna put spider eggs in the corner of your mouth where you cant reach

i will cut your fucking vocal cord and then make you fucking eat it

i will deep fry your eyelashes and put them in a salad which i'll force feed you, while simultaneously shoving your own foot so far up your ass it gets lodged in your throat so you choke on deep-fried eyelash salad and foot

i’m redirecting the income of my platonic love for you to my pillow

i will rip out your large intestine, fry it in diet orange powerade and wrap it around the christmas tree

i shall turn you into a microwaved burrito

i’ll bash you over the head with a femur

your mum should have eaten you as a baby when your bones were still soft

if you dont stop, imma go to medical school, spend hella cash and several years to gain my license and become a doctor so i can surgically open her chest, fill the entire body with beans and seal it shut without her dying

i will find you and slowly fill your room with crickets

i will boil your teeth then i will fill your ears with concrete and your sinuses with urine followed by an inversion of your ribcage that will end your judgementalist life. and i may or may not harvest your toes and then fillet your tongue

this shit makes me wanna boil my teeth and use ur skin as a fursuit

if yall can think of more pls add some

edit: more added

2 notes · View notes

writingamileperhour · 5 years ago

Text

The Clover Ring (Part 2)

Here is the second part. I had fun writing this so i really hope yall enjoy.

I know there are some spelling issues and other random captialisatiOn. Just roll with it ya?

Geralt held Maylin until her shuddering stopped, and she gently pulled away from him, and gently waves her hand to make the tear stains on his shirt vanish. She rubs at her eyes, seeming much more like a small girl than a wilderness healer. Maylin pats his chest and moves away from him into the kitchen and starts to clean.

Geralt finds himself unsure what to do, so he picks up his sword and heads out of the house to give her space, and to see if he can hunt something for them to have for dinner. Geralt steps into the trees, sword in hand, and walks around as silently as possible, looking for a rabbit or something of the sort.

He finds he can’t focus as his mind drifts back to the feeling of Maylin wrapped up in his arms. The presence of home was more there than it was when she kissed him, and he cannot seem to shake the feeling that she was waiting for him, and he was waiting for her. Her eyes float in his mind, something beautiful for him to hold onto, as he believes that his heart will not let her go, even when it starts to hurt him.

He twirls his sword in his hand, and lets a sigh escape his lips, and just as he does so, a small white hare jumps from the bushes in front of him, and on instinct he rids the gentle creature of its head. He picks up the body, and begins the trek back to the house, and takes it in since he hasn’t had a chance to yet.

The house is a small thing, just big enough for two people. The porch seems to encompass the front of the house, with a swinging seat on one side, and a couch and table on the other. There is a shelve just under the window which has been opened, that holds small boxes he doesn’t know the purpose of. The door is arched, with a small circle of glass in it. The roof follows the length of the house and extends more over the porch to protect it from the rain. The well sits a few feet away, a bucket resting on the side of it. The garden intrigues Geralt, as he wonders why it is so protected.

Slowly he makes his way to the door, setting his sword against the frame before opening the door to step inside, and having to dodge as a book flies past into a shelve that is mirrored by another with a fireplace in the middle. Maylin is still in the kitchen, which has a metal stove in it, what looks to be an icebox, cupboards with glass planes in them so one can see inside. There is an island counter that she is working at, cutting up veggies and such and putting it into a pot.

She looks up at him, and feels shame flushing her cheeks still at her display of emotion, but she lets herself smile softly, “I can clean that.” She points to the beheaded rabbit in his hand.

Geralt nods, and brings it over, and finds a wooden cutting board is set on the counter, with the tools needed to clean it. “It will go faster if we work together.”

Maylin grunts softly, but nods, and gets back to work as books and papers continue to fly to their proper locations. As the house cleans itself, he can see a beautifully made kitchen table with filigree around the edges, curved with an expert hand that he has little doubt is Maylin’s own. The chairs have the same design in the back, and he is surprised to find that there are four chairs around the table.

Past the table is a small desk, but it has a triangle shape on it, holding a canvas that is currently covered with blue paint. The desk is littered with painting supplies, the supplies righting themselves to make it neater, and the brushes coming from the water cup, spinning in the air, and becoming as clean as they were when they were made. All the brushes have the same colored hair as Maylin and her horse Twi.

“Did you make everything in this house?” Geralt asks as he sets back to work on the rabbit.

“No. The table and easel were gifts,” Maylin says as she turns to go searching in a cupboard, getting onto her tippy toes to look, then reach. Geralt comes over, a good head taller than she, and reaches to grab the glass bottle holding some herbs, and handing it to her, and she pouts a little. “Thanks.”

Geralt grunts and turns back to the rabbit as Maylin sets the pot on the stove and pulls out a pan to put beside. She pours some of the herbs into the pot, and the scent of them makes his mouth water. He watches as she stirs the pot, then comes beside him to take the strips of meat he cuts off to cut them smaller and put in the pan with a small wad of butter, the sound of it sizzling filling the air.

“I don’t often cook for two,” Maylin notes softly, “It’s amusing to me how easy it is to get back to it though.” She stands back and washes her hands in a basin of water to the side of the stove, before she goes to the shelves by the fireplace.

Geralt grunts softly in response, and watches as she touches over the spines of the books, “You use magic so easily.”

“Born to it,” Maylin says as an explanation. She pulls a book from the shelf and flips through it, humming softly. “You have magic too, I recall?”

Geralt grunts and nods, and stabs the knife into the cutting board, and watches as the fur is taken away, and the bones, but the rest is floated out of the house and away. He washes his hands in the basin as well, and comes over to her, “It is extraordinary how casually you use it.”

“Hm?” Maylin looks up at him, her focus having been on the book not him, but as her eyes find his, all her attention snaps to him. “Oh. Years of practice?”

Geralt hms back at her, and comes to see what she is reading, but finds he can not make out a single word of what she is reading. “I don’t know this.”

Maylin snorts softly and baps his chest, “Course not. Its not for you to read.”

Geralt takes a step back, and grunts softly, and turns to look at the others, “Can I read any of these?”

Maylin nods, “Yes. But this one has things not for the eyes of others. Here.” She turns to the shelve and points to a book bound in green leather. Geralt reaches and pulls it down and opens it to find it is title to be ‘Monster Index,’ and as he flips through, he sees that each few pages is dedicated to a monster, which is illustrated. As he flips through, he realizes he knows most of them, but there’s a few he doesn’t, and he sits on the couch to read them.

Maylin chuckles and brings her book over to the kitchen to stir the meat, before putting it into the water. She puts a few bones in it as well, and stirs that, before going back to reading.

“This is intensive. You have monsters in this that I don’t even know,” Geralt says. “How did you get drawings of them all?”

Maylin shrugs a shoulder, “I studied each one. It’s easy to make a monster trust you when you are small and pretty.” She looks at him with a teasing smirk, “and the ones you don’t know are probably extinct.”

Geralt grunts, and turns back to the book, reading through it. The smell of the stew is making him mouth water even more and is delighted when the book is removed from his hands and is replaced with a warm wooden bowl of stew, with a spoon.

Maylin slides a piece of paper in the spot he’s in and then sets it down, “I can copy that for you, if you would like.”

“That would be too much,” Geralt says, as he eats, watching as she sits down in a green chair with a blanket over the back of it. The chair looks old, but well used, well taken care of, and well loved.

Maylin shakes her head, “Not really. Takes a night, and we got a night before we head out.”

Geralt grunts softly, but he nods and continues to eat in silence.

They sit silently for a while, having finished eating, Geralt had gotten up to get seconds, thirds, then fourths, making Maylin proud, and laugh as well. She fixes him with a gaze, curiosity in her eyes that captivates him.

“What was your first monster kill Geralt?” She says him name in such a way that is makes him want to stand and come to her, pulled by a magnet.

“It was a hulking man who was going to hurt a girl. He said she should meet a real man, and I said he should too. IT took two hits, that weren’t clean, but they were spectacular,” Geralt says fondly, the memory something he quite enjoys.

Maylin smiles softly, “That is a good monster to kill.” She gets up, and comes to sit beside him, tucking her legs under her.

“What was yours?” Geralt asks, turning to her, giving her his full attention.

Maylin thinks and twirls a piece of hair around her finger as she considers, “Monster monster, or a man that was even worse?”

“Monster monster,” Geralt says.

Maylin chuckles softly, “The first monster I killed was a vampire, much like Damian. I got my ass kicked, but it took one swift kick from me to impale the damn thing on a near by fence.”

Geralt would say vampires don’t exist, but he feels perhaps she is true to her words, “Damian was a vampire?”

Maylin nods, “A very weak one, but old as ever and a real pain in my ass.”

“He is dead now,” Geralt says. Wanting to comfort her in some way.

“For now. But some dickface will think it wise to bring him back, and the cycle continues,” Maylin says sighing softly. “He’s a slave trader, and I guess I was a provider and a client to him some time ago, but I quit it when I got my sense back. I often lose it.”

Geralt grunts softly and thinks there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of loose sense, “I’m sorry.”

Maylin shrugs, and gently takes his hand to toy with, tracing the lines of it curiously, “It is alright Geralt.”

Geralt takes her wandering hand in his. Stilling her movements, and raises his other to cup her cheek, and marvels again as she leans softly into his touch, trusting him entirely. His heart aches a touch, as he ahs never had someone not be afraid of him. Her eyes meet his, and she comes closer to him, raising her own hand to his cheek and stroking it gently with her thumb.

“You are so beautiful Geralt,” she whispers, and he can’t help his small smile and chuckle, and is delighted when she smiles back.

“AS are you Maylin. I didn’t know beauty like yours existed,” Geralt says softly and leans into her once more.

Maylin laughs softly, a soft blush coloring her cheeks, and she comes close to him, and looks to his lips, and licks her own. She looks to his eyes, studying them, before she leans a touch more. Geralt crosses the distance this time, letting his lips find hers, and revels in the sparks that shoot through his body. He pulls her closer, and she happily comes, sliding into his lap easily, and holding his face between her hands, gently but urgent as she deepens the kiss, tongue sliding across his lips, much to the surprise of Geralt, who had rarely had a woman be so force full and confident with him.

Maylin bits his lip softly, making him gasp and open his mouth to her, and she slides he tongue into tangle with his, as her hands slide down over the shirt she gave him, red like a rose, and she undoes the tie at the top. She feels his hands work on her own top, and she lets him pull it off her, pulling back a touch from his mouth, only to go right back to kissing it, feeling that if she doesn’t for too long all this will end.

She pulls his shirt from him as well, and he grunts in surprise as her lips find his slow pulse and kiss at it softly. His hands slide down her back to under her pants and underwear. He excites at the fact that they are silky soft. He pushes them down and off her, tossing them gently away.

He watches as she takes off the band around her breasts, and before he can touch them, she stands and pulls him up by the loops of his pants, making him grunt softly and chuckle.

“Impatient?” Geralt teases as he follows her into her bedroom, his pants having been taken off on the way there.

Maylin shrugs and turns him and shoves him back onto the bed. Having not expected such treatment he stumbles and falls back, and leans back on his elbows. Geralt feels a wave of relieve mixed with arousal and excitement as her beautiful eyes finally rake over his body, taking in every inch of him before her eyes come to meet his, and he smirks.

“That is the first time you’ve taken me in entirely with those eyes of yours,” Geralt says.

“’Bout to take you in entirety with something else,” Maylin says and crawls over him, kissing up his torso as she does so, and he laughs as he lays back to let her do as she pleases, finding immense joy in letting her take control.

She finds his lips once more, and kisses them feverishly, her hands sliding over his chest, fingers ticklish as she feels over every curve of his abs and pecs. Geralt moans softly and rises a touch into her hands. Her lips slide from his mouth to his jaw, her teeth grazing the skin.

She lets out a soft moan as Geralt slides his hand between her legs, to rub at her heat. He slides a finger into her slowly, and listens to her purr as she kisses even more, making Geralt’s cock twitch with arousal. In a matter of seconds Maylin finds herself on her back, and Geralt’s pretty face between her legs. Her hands slide over his shoulders to his hair to toy with, but not take it out.

Geralt’s tongue finds her clit, and she lets out a squeal of pleasure, before falling into the bed, resting back as he pleasures her with his mouth, finding her taste intoxicating. Geralt could do this for hours, but he feels the need to bed her rising and rising and pulls away to lick his lips and nip the inside of her thighs.

Maylin pulls him up to her, and he gasps as he is pulled, eyes wide at her display of strength. She blinks and kisses his cheek, “Sorry.”

“No… I just never met a woman that strong,” Geralt says, and touches his cheek softly.

Maylin catches his hand to hold and pulls him in for another kiss. Geralt lines his raging hardon with her heated core, and slides in slowly, making her feel every inch, cherishing the moans that leave her mouth. Maylin grips his shoulder, other hand bunching in the sheets as she feels herself expand to accommodate such a generous size, moans pouring from her mouth.

Geralt hilts in her, and looks at where their bodies are joined, and decidedly believes he has never enjoyed the view more. He starts to thrust, slowly at first, wanting them to last, but as he goes, his body takes over his mind, and he finds himself pounding into her.

Maylin’s moans increase in volume until she is panting and screaming with almost every thrust, every nerve in her body light up from the pleasure. She comes undone beneath him when he slides his hand down to rub just right on her clit, and she clenches around his cock deliciously.

Geralt growls out his pleasure as the simple image of Maylin coming undone before him sends him over the edge, and he spills inside her without worry, and she moans softly.

Geralt rests his head in the crook of her neck as she pants, trying to catch her breathe as she comes down from her high. Her hands gently rub his back and he hums softly, before pulling out slowly and laying beside her, pulling her close to him, and she happily comes.

Maylin rests her head over his heart, cuddling into his side and drawing idle designs over his skin, unable to wipe the soft smile from her face, or force her blush to go down. Geralt watches her fingers draw the designs, and gently kisses her forehead.

“I find myself not wanting to leave,” Geralt says softly, looking at her face with more adoration that he thought he could muster as she turns her head to him.

“The world needs you more however,” Maylin says softly turning her eyes away, her chest still rising and falling, “I am not made for this Geralt. I will outlive you.”

“Impossible,” Geralt says, knowing he will be around for a long time, if nothing kills him first.

Maylin shakes her head, and rests it back down to stare at the wall, “I cannot die Geralt. Nothing will kill me. No poisons, no wounds. You could swing the strongest sword ever made to cut my head from my shoulders, and that sword will break.”

Geralt looks at her, the words taking a moment to sink in, and he moves back a touch to look at her face, “You really can’t die?”

Maylin grunts, and sits up, “Would you like proof?” she rolls to the nightstand and she pulls a knife from the drawing, but Geralt catches her hand.

“I don’t want proof,” Geralt says, and carefully takes the knife to put on the other nightstand. He then takes her hand, “Why do you not want this?”

“I didn’t say that,” Maylin says softly. “It is not something this easy Geralt.”

Geralt straddles her and cups her face and she looks up at him, her hand touching his, “I know it isn’t easy. The thought of having someone that I could loose is a fear that holds me back from relationships. But if you cannot die, that fear is not as present.”

“What about my fear? You are a Witcher Geralt. Your job is to hunt and fight monsters that can kill you. Am I to bury your body?” Maylin asks, and pushes him off her, and he flops into the bed, shocked, “I have buried enough bodies. I don’t want to add more if I don’t have to.” She gets up, and retreats into the closet, grabbing a robe and underwear and coming back out with them on, “And Damian isn’t my only enemy. Dating me means your painting a target on your back.”

Geralt watched her leave and took a moment to consider weighing her words carefully, and he silently makes a vow to be more careful, if it means she will let him be with her. He stands up, and comes to catch her shaking hands, and holds them tight, even when she tries to pull away, “Maylin. Give me a chance.” He has never asked someone of that before, “Please.”

Maylin looks into his eyes, searching for something, anything, her own starting to well with tear. Slowly she lets her shoulders fall, and she slumps into his chest, “If you die on me, I will bring you back just to kill you.”

Geralt wraps his arms around her marvelling once again at the feeling of her in his arms, and he kisses the top her head, chuckling softly, “Could you really bring me back?”

“Depends on how you died, but yes,” Maylin says, chuckling softly to and nuzzling into his skin, breathing in his scent, and sighing softly.

Geralt sweeps her up into his arms and brings her back to bed. She reaches and opens the window, and breathes in. Geralt comes to lay with her, and she snuggles back into his side.

“We are still going tomorrow,” Maylin says and looks at him. “I hope that is okay.”

“Will we come back?” Geralt asks, looking around the room, knowing that he can ease into this life of hers.

“No,” Maylin says and smirks, “Have you ever heard of a Clover Ring?”

Geralt nods a little, “I heard that they were hidden rings of clover that can be moved.”

“Indeed. And we are in one. Mine is rather large, and it turns into a necklace,” Maylin says proudly, resting back into his chest.

Geralt grunts softly, finding that to be extremely useful. He kisses her hair, still in its braids, even if it’s a tad messier now. “Goodnight Maylin. Sleep well.”

Maylin hums softly, “Sweet dreams Geralt.”

Geralt smiles softly, and closes his eyes, falling swiftly to sleep, Maylin close behind.

Geralt wakes in the morning, mildly afraid that this was all a very cruel dream, but he calms quickly when he sees he is still in the bed, Maylin beside him, but she’s awake, and sitting up in bed, a blanket wrapped around her as she leans against the headboard that has a few knife holes in. Her eyes watch outside as rain pours down, and a soft, pleased smile makes her look even more gorgeous than the day before.

He sits up, and comes to look out the window as well, “Are you sure we cannot wait another day?”

Maylin chuckles softly and turns to him, “Good morning to you as well. And no. I quite like the rain. And the town isn’t very far. ‘Bout a day and a half, and I will pack a tent on Twi.”

Geralt grunts but finds he can suffer some rain. “You really are coming with me?”

“You don’t know how to get out of this forest,” Maylin points out, and reluctantly slides from the bed to get dressed. Geralt catches her around the waist, making her squeal in surprise as he brings her close again, to kiss deeply.

He releases her after, “I look forward to the company.”

Maylin chuckles softly, and goes into her closet, pulling out a suit of leather armour that seems too light to be armour. She takes off her robe and slides on a soft long sleeves blouse, and a pair of tight pants, that make her ass stand out more, and Geralt sits back against the headboard, arm behind his head as he watches her get dressed, a smile toying with his lips.

Maylin slides the armour on, tying and buckling the complicated straps with muscle memory alone. She then pulls a scabbard out, holding a curved flat blade that she pulls out for a moment to touch the blade with a bare finger.

“Should I poison it again?” She asks, but Geralt is a bit distracted as he takes in her form, the armour making him fear her a touch, and it excites him. She chuckles softly and comes over to him to kiss his cheek, “Geralt?”

“Hm?”

“Liking what you see I take it?” Maylin put the sword back and the scabbard on her back.

“Very much. I have never seen armour like this before. All these symbols,” Geralt says, taking her arm to inspect it.

“Warded armour. The wards bounce a persons magic back at them. And between the two leather layers, is warded glass, Its—”

“Unbreakable. I remember,” Geralt says and releases his hand. “A bit overkill?”

Maylin shrugs and stands to retrieve her boats, “Usually, but it still hurts to get stabbed. How’s your armour?”

Geralt grunts, and gets up, and goes to collect his clothes, Maylin following as she goes into the kitchen, “Not as good as yours.”

Maylin studies him for a moment, “We could get some commissioned for you that’s like mine.”

“Really?” Geralt asks, turning to her as he puts on his own armour.

Maylin nods, “Got a friend who owes me more than he is worth.”

Geralt grunts in amusement, and watches as she pulls two bottles from the icebox, and shakes them up, before coming to hand him one. “Really?”

She nods as she opens her bottle and takes a drink of the pinkish sludge. She makes a face, licking her lips then nods, and continues past him to the shelves, and looks at the book. “Damn.”

“What?”

“I didn’t copy your book,” Maylin says and picks it up.

“That’s alright,” Geralt says, and opens the bottle himself and sniffs it, finding it smells like strawberries and dairy. He sips it and can’t believe how good it is.

Maylin shakes her head, and sets the book down, then pulls out a box from under the shelve and sets it on the table. She then grabs another book, blank and the same size as the other, and puts both in the box and locks it tight. She says a spell, and the box starts to rock as if the books are mating. Geralt raises an eyebrow but decides he doesn’t want to know.

She then starts to take off her armour, “We will have to wait a day before it’s ready. I don’t want to send you off without having everything you need.” She knows it’s a half lie, but she doesn’t want to part from him just yet, even though she hinted at the fact that she would travel with him.

Geralt raises and eyebrow, but is relieved they aren’t leaving so soon, and takes his armour off. He watches her walk back to the bedroom, and takes another swig of the strawberry goodness, before following after her. He leans against the frame as he observes her taking off the complicated buckles and clamps of her armour and setting it up on the stand once it’s off. He admires the markings on her back and comes forward slowly to trace them.

“What are these?” Geralt asks, tickling his fingers over her spine, making her gasps softly.

“Gold thread,” Maylin gives as an response, and turns to look at him over her shoulder. “They are my�� wings.”

“Wings?” Geralt raises an eyebrow and turns her slowly to face him. Her breasts are covered by a band of clothe with straps.

Maylin nods and pats his chest softly before going into her closet, “You’ll see them one day, I’m sure.”

Geralt grunts, “Why not now?”

Maylin doesn’t answer, and he figures that is the end of that conversation. She comes out wearing a black pair of pants, a tank top, her hair pulled up into a ponytail. She hands Geralt a pair of thick leather gloves.

“You aren’t going to answer my question?” Geralt asks, taking the gloves with a frown.

“They are private and sacred, and it takes a bit to put them back,” Maylin explains, “Since we have a day, I’m going to work in my garden. Those are if you decide to join me.” She takes one to show that they are well insulated. “TO protect from the toxins that are in some of the plants.”

Geralt hums softly, and nods, “Should I help you?”

Maylin shrugs and goes on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, before walking past him and out of the house, “don’t know what else you would do!” she calls.

Geralt grumbles a bit, following her out of the house, putting the gloves on. He witnesses as she opens the gate and steps in, everything labeled, sectioned and there is even a path through for her to walk on.

“Don’t touch the ones with the red or black labels, but the rest is fine,” Maylin says, heading into another fenced off part, with a bit of wet sand between that fence and this one. She leaves the gate open though.

“I’m guessing you will be tending those ones?” Geralt assumes as he grabs a watering can to fill in from a small fountain that is growing the most beautiful white flowers, that give of an amazing scent. He finds it a touch too much, before he fills the can.

Maylin smiles at him and nods, and she gets to work looking over her plants with a gentleness Geralt is a touch jealous of. They are decently silent as they work, Geralt pulling weeds and putting them in a bucket according to Maylin’s instructions, then watering all the plants. HE watches her mainly, and her hands, worried she will get a reaction. He is relieved when she doesn’t so much as get a hint of red skin.

Eventually she goes inside to wash her hands well, before coming back to join him as they pull out weeds. She sits back at one point, munching on a leave of mint, when she blinks as a drop of water touches her nose, then she smiles wide.

Geralt grunts, and gets up, Maylin besides, but as he makes it to go inside the house, he turns back to see Maylin taking off her clothes, and stretching her arms out to feel the rain on her skin. Her eyes have fallen closed, and she looks like a goddess of the earth, and Geralt moves to steps to see what she is going to do next, an amused smile on his face.

“You have a thing for water,” HE observes. Her eyes open and look at him, the emotions in them almost too intense for Geralt, but he doesn’t dare look away as he feels a tingle run down his spine.

Maylin laughs softly, and slips off her shoes and socks, before coming over to him, smiling slyly. She slides a wet hand over his shirt, and he grunts softly. He let’s his eyes fall closed as her lips tease his skin.

As he gets lost in the barest of her touches, he gasps softly as her hands wrap around his wrists, “I don’t want to get—”

Before the words leave his mouth, Maylin has tugged him into the rain, laughing as she does so. He is almost instantly soaked.

“Wet.” He shakes his head, and looks at her, “I am running out of clothes.”

“All by design,” Maylin says cheekily, before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it off him and kissing his lips when its halfway off his head.

Geralt rids himself of the rest of his clothes, with Maylin’s almost unhelpful hand, as she kissed over skin that was newly exposed. The ministrations make his heart jump, and he looks at her when he is left in nothing but his underwear, and raises an eyebrow as Maylin smiles at him, then looks over the scars in the rain, running gentle, soft fingers over them.

“Rain has many magical properties that most mages I have come across overlook,” Maylin says softly, as her hand comes to rest over his heart, her eyes falling a touch sad. Geralt puts his bigger hand on hers.

“Show me,” Geralt asks softly, and tilts her face up to him with his free hand.

Maylin smiles softly, and goes up to kiss his lips, before stepping away, her touch lingering. She takes a few steps away and takes a deep breath. Her hands come up suddenly, and before Geralt’s eyes he watches as every drop of water freezes in mid air. With a flourish of her hands, the water comes to her, and she moves around the grass in elegant forms that Geralt has never laid eyes on. She moves it to be a wave that crashes into the ground, before she releases her hold, and the water starts to fall again.

Geralt claps, and watches as he walks back over to him, smiling a bit shyly.

“That is a beauty of water, but it has other things. Mainly healing,” She pulls a shard of ice from the rain to be in her hand, and holds her other one out to Geralt, “Do you trust me?”

Geralt eyes the shard in her hand, slowly getting a glimpse of just how dangerous this woman is, but he knows he does indeed trust her. He gives her his hand, and to his surprise she turns his arm over and slices the inside of his arm, making him hiss and try to pull away. Her grip is tight, as she then has the ice melt back to water, and has it envelope her hand, and the cut on his arm, and he watches with fascination as the cut starts to heal over, leaving a ghost of a scar, before leaving nothing. Maylin lets the water fall to the ground, before she kisses over the pain she caused.

“How… Why doesn’t other mages know this?” Geralt asks as he inspects his arm.

“They focus on the balance of chaos, not on the energy that flows through everything,” Maylin says, her voice a tad bit envious and admirable, “Energy is my thriving ground.”

Geralt grunts, before taking her hand in his, “I can not see that as a terrible thing.”

Maylin chuckles softly and places his hand on her waist as she takes his other, and she pulls him to dance with her into the rain, a small adorable waltz to the music of the world waking up.

For a month, both would find reasons why they could not leave that day and spend it together. They’d tend Maylin’s garden and cook together. They made the small trip to the waterfall, and Geralt got used to the cold, and would follow Maylin’s gentle movements when she rid herself of the bad energy. He asked her once about this bad energy, and she explained it as being something that comes with all magic. He often didn’t get very clear answers from her when eh asked about her magic, and after the first few times he stopped asking about her wings.

It was a gentle time between both of them. Geralt found he couldn’t fathom doing anything else at that time but to read at her side with the fire going, as they would idly toy with each others free hand. Not to mention the sex with her was better than anyone he had ever been with put together, and that is saying a great deal. However, his favorite part of their day is falling asleep with her at his side, and waking with her curled up into his warmth, snoring a touch.

There was once, when Geralt wanted to surprise her, that he went out of her room before she woke to make her breakfast, when he ran into the room, armed for danger as he heard her screaming. His heart broke when he saw the broken look in her eyes as she woke from her nightmare, and wordlessly fell into his open arms, and buried her face in his chest. At the time she didn’t want to discuss what her dream about, and he knew better than to push it.

However, today, when Maylin went out to eat breakfast on the porch, an owl perched on the fence, and she frowned a touch as she took the letter in its beak to read over.

Geralt frowned a touch, afraid that is was bad, but she just shook her head.

“What is it?” Geralt asks.

“A summon for you. Well a Witcher,” Maylin says and hands him the letter. It details a monster problem in a nearby village. Geralt grunts softly.

“I am sure another would go,” Geralt says, looking at her, knowing that regardless of the excuses that either would cook up for them to not go, they would have to.

Maylin just kissed his shoulder, and rubbed his arm, “Come on. It’s time to go.”

Geralt has been dreading those words, and he catches her arm before she goes past him and looks into her mildly confused ones. His heart aches, and he pulls her close to him, to wrap up in his arms and hold tightly. Maylin lets out a pleased sigh, and hugs him back, kissing his chest softly.

Geralt holds her like this until he feels he can move without shattering, and reluctantly lets her go, but he chuckles to himself when she pulls him back in. “One more.”

It takes them a few more minutes before either can let go of the other, and they move inside to dawn their armour, and head out to get their horses ready. She hands Geralt a bag of food and tying a tent to the back of her saddle, then she hops up, and pats Twi’s neck. “Ready to go?”

Geralt gets up on Roach and nods, and comes to be beside her, “Lead the way.”

Maylin nods, and off they go, into the lush green forest, the path opening for them as they go, but it is a single horse only. Geralt couldn’t complain, as he gets to watch her from behind, a treat he didn’t know he wanted. They ride in silence.

It takes a few minutes of riding, but the forest shifts the beautiful green that it was, to the gloom that Geralt is used to, and he blinks as Maylin pulls Twi to a stop, hopping in him and going to the edge, where indeed a line of clovers, about his hand width wide, running in both directions is. Maylin touches it, and it shudders, the clovers waving down like being blown my strong winds, and with a flourish of pink and blue light, a necklace appears on the ground, that Maylin picks up, and the lush green forest is no longer there, replaced by the gloom of the normal, the trees in different places, as if the place there were in never existed.

Maylin sides the necklace around her neck and tucks it into her armour, before getting back up on Twi, the rain breaking, and she sighs softly, “Awe.”

Geralt shakes his head and comes to ride beside her and shakes out his hair. They ride side by side in silence, stopping at a river to drink and have a quick bite, no words said between them, but it is not an awkward silence, but a wonderfully comfortable one. They reach the outskirts of the town by nightfall. The lanterns light it up and Maylin smiles faintly, taking in the sight of it before getting down. She pulls out a string with metal sheets attached to it and starts to spread it around the horses and the fire that Geralt is getting together.

“What is that?” Geralt asks, watching her fix the position of the metal sheets.

“Protection circle. Same magic that’s in my armour. Keeps things out,” Maylin explains and nods when she is okay with the positioning. She pats Twi’s side, who neighs at her, and hasn’t moved from the spot she put him since they got there.

Geralt grunts softly and turns back to getting a fire started.

Maylin pulls out the tent and sets it up quickly and retreating inside for a few minutes before coming back out, with two bowls and plopping down by the fire and handing him the bowl.

“Thanks. You take safety way to seriously,” Geralt observes and grunts when she playfully flicks him.

“Been attacked enough at night to know that it doesn’t hurt to be cautious,” Maylin defends herself as she eats, watching the fire. “And old habits die hard. I used to travel from town to town, healing and helping with anything I could.”

“Basically, a Witcher yourself,” Geralt teases softly.

Maylin snorts at that and turns to fix him with a look, “If I was a real Witcher, you would be out of a job.”

“You’re that good a fighter?” Geralt asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yup. My father saw to that,” Maylin says, but her tone isn’t bitter, as it often is when she speaks of her father. She stares at the fire as a memory plays in her mind, and she shakes her head to rid herself of the images.

“He trained you?”

“Yes. Behind my mother’s back, until she was called away, and then it was every day, till I did not need to use a weapon to kill a man, as he taught me that every man is monster, including himself, and that as his sweet little princess, I had to know how to bring them to their knees.”

Geralt had started to frown, and it got deeper and deeper as she talked, “Do you believe him? That all men at monsters?”

Maylin shakes her head, “No. Some are, corrupted by ego and pride, but not all of them.” Her eyes see through his, and she touches his hand gently, “You are not a monster, Geralt of Rivia. You are a great man, who does things some are too afraid to do, and it makes them afraid of you.”

Geralt nods, “I know.”

“You can know all you like, but it weighs on you, like it weighed on me,” Maylin says and comes to sit closer.

“You aren’t a monster,” Geralt says immediately, looking at her with a sudden stubbornness, finding the idea to be monstrous in itself.

Maylin laughs, “Not yet. But give it time. You will see it all one day.”

Geralt takes her hand, setting his empty bowl down, “You can’t scare me off Maylin.”

Maylin leans her head on his shoulder and hopes with all her heart that he is right. “I’m betting on that.”

Geralt grunts and looks out around them. “It isn’t raining. I know you brought the tent, but it is nice to sleep under the stars.”

Maylin considers, and nods, “Alright. I’ll get the bedrolls.” She stands and goes to get them, pulling them from the tent along with two blankets and a pillow, and the tent snaps down and rolls itself up and waits to be placed back on Twi.

Maylin sets the bedrolls out, and pats beside her, after Geralt washed the bowls and put them away. He comes to lay with her on them, and tucks her into his side, the blankets over them both, and his head on the pillow. He tucks an arm under his head and looks at the stars. It isn’t long until Geralt hears Maylin’s breathe relax, and he looks down to see she is fast asleep.

Despite everything she does to make herself feel safe, being in Geralt’s arms makes it all seem better. Like somehow, she can let this person protect her, because he actually can.

Geralt wakes to the feeling of something moving against his side, and at first, he thinks its Maylin getting dirty, but then he hears a whimper of pain and his eyes fly open to see that Maylin has turned away from him, and seems to be twitching in pain, soft sounds coming from her.

He pulls her onto her back, and sees that her eyes are closed, but her eyes dart under them as if she’s trapped in a nightmare.

“Maylin!” Geralt shouts, and gets shoved, but she doesn’t wake, and to avoid being punched he pins her hands, and tries again, “Maylin! Wake up!”

Maylin’s eyes snap open, wide, and deeply afraid, and she struggles under him for a moment before recognizing who he is and calming slowly. Tears brim in her eyes. “Gods…”

Geralt wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to cause her anymore pain, so he just scoops her up into his arms, and cradles her in his arms, rocking softly, shushing her gently, “Its okay. Your okay. Safe and sound.”

Maylin snorts softly, but she doesn’t pull away, just snuggles into him tighter. “Sorry for waking you,” she mutters softly.

Geralt shakes his head and pulls way to look at her face, and he decides he wants to know, so he can better comfort her, “Needed to wake up anyways. What… were you dreaming of?”

Maylin looks into his eyes and nuzzles into his neck a touch. She is quiet for a long time before she says, in a voice almost too soft for a normal person to hear, “I… Dreamt of when some people… who I thought were my friends… tried to burn me at the stake.”

Geralt grits his teeth, and pulls her tighter into her chest, and kisses the top of her head. He strokes her arms, unsure what to say to such a thing, and knows it would just be angry words if he spoke. Maylin doesn’t mind, as his embrace is comfort enough, but eventually she pulls away to wipe at her eyes.

“It wasn’t the first time. I’ve been called a witch many times, and they always use trial by fire to get rid of us,” she chuckles humorlessly, “It is a good thing I am fireproof.”

Geralt grunts softly, and cups her face, and kisses over her eyes gently, feeling her tears on his lips. He would do anything to never have to see tears like this on her face again.

Maylin smiles a touch, and turns her face up to kiss him properly, and she yelps a touch when pulls her up to her feet so he can wrap her up in his arms better. “I won’t let that happen again.”

Maylin’s smile grows, and closes her eyes, “I believe you Geralt.”

Geralt eventually releases Maylin, letting her make them breakfast, as Geralt packs up camp, and eats, then she leads her horse to the town, looking at it with excitement. Geralt is close behind, and they tie their horses off to a post, and Maylin heads into the market, much to Geralt’s dismay, but when her hand slips into his, he decides the market is okay.

Maylin looks over an array of jewelry, touching over a few rings, seeming to favour simple designs than the fancy, and Geralt takes notice as she lifts up a pendant, the stone red and wrapped in wire, and it hangs on a silver chain. She hums softly, and places it back, smiling at the keeper, before moving on.

Maylin makes a beeline for the blankets, releasing Geralt’s hand to touch each one to find the softest, making him chuckle softly. He looks around, at all the people giving him hateful glares, and Maylin confused, and almost sorry expressions. His hands clench, and Maylin turns to him, face against a blanket she found soft enough by her standards and smiles slightly. She pays the woman for the blanket, the woman nodding, and giving Geralt a wary eye.

A grumble leaves Geralt’s lips as Maylin wraps the blanket around his shoulders and pulls him into her, her lips naturally finding his, and he gasps against her mouth, but he melts into the kiss. When they part, people are staring even more, and Maylin smirks softly.

“Pay them no mind. It is human nature to stare at the happy,” Maylin says and pats his chest, and leaving the blanket over his shoulders as she considers to peruse.

Geralt grunts softly, and turns a glare on the people around him, taking the blanket from his shoulders and following after Maylin. Whose eyes have fallen on a green dress, with dark lace over it and she touches the fabric longingly, smiling to herself. Geralt watches as her eyes darken with sorrow, and her hand drops from the dress, and she moves on from it, to get some sweet treats for herself and Geralt, the light in her eyes back.

He finds himself looking back at the dress, then back at Maylin, wondering why she didn’t buy it. He snacks on the overly sweet buns, and follows her into the pub, to sit with her in the corner.

Maylin sits across from him, licking the syrup from her fingers with almost child like delight, and thanks the bartender when he brings her a napkin, a glass of wine, and a mug of ale, smiling at her like they are old friends, before giving Geralt an almost father like ‘don’t you hurt my daughter’ look, and leaving.

“You must come here often if he knows what to bring you,” Geralt observes taking the ale when she pushes it towards him.

“I always like coming down every so often to listen to the bards and watch as men make stupid mistakes,” Maylin says cleaning her fingers properly.

The door of the pub slams open, making her jump a touch, and in walks a man wearing a red and blue bards’ outfit, lute in hand, and his eyes land on Geralt, and he hurrahs before coming over to them. His eyes land on Maylin, and his step slows before he gets there.

“Speaking of bards,” Geralt says with distaste, and takes a long sip of ale.

Maylin chuckles softly and sips her wine, and eyes the lute, “Tell me bard, do you know how the lute was said to be made?”

Jaskier frowns, taken aback that she spoke to him, and even moves over to let him sit beside her, much to Geralt’s even greater displeasure, and wave the bartender to bring another mug of ale. “I know many stories, fair maiden, but not that one! Might before you tell me, I must ask for your name, and the whole story on how you got to this table with our darling Witcher, who I might add, I have not seen in a month!”

Maylin shakes her head, looking to Geralt as he tries to avoid both of their eyes, “He was fighting a monster, and after it was killed, he was hurt, so I fixed him up. My name is Maylin. I must apologize for keeping him, but he was… helping me with my house.”

Jaskier takes her hand to kiss, but from the death glare he gets from Geralt he settles for shaking it, “I am Jaskier! You did the world a favour by saving this Witcher.”

Maylin chuckles softly, “I would have to believe that.”

Jaskier beams, and turns to Geralt, “I like this one a lot Geralt. Is she coming with us?”

“Us?” Geralt grumbles, and nods to the bartender when he brings three ales instead of one, and he claims two of them.

“Yes. Us,” Jaskier gestures between himself and Geralt, “The dynamic duo!”

Maylin shakes her head softly and sips her wine, and looks to his lute again, “I am. Don’t know where we are off too though.”

Jaskier beams, “I am sure something will arise, and we will be called to action. I look forward to having someone to talk to.”

Maylin shakes her head, and takes the lute to inspect, “I don’t talk much either. Can I tell you this story now?” she looks at Geralt with a smirk on her lips.

Jaskier takes his lute back, and holds it like its his child, as it probably is, and nods, “Tell me this remarkable story of how a lute was made.”

“Not a lute, the lute. The first one recorded in history,” Maylin says, and leans back, “Was made from the shell of turtle, by a trickster god. He had caught the turtle, fucked it, ate it, then turned the shell into a lute.”

Geralt grunts softly, shaking his head a bit at the story. Jaskier looks a bit offended, which makes Geralt like the story a bit more.

“Where did you hear such a tale?” Jaskier asks, taking a sip of his ale.

“I read it in a play,” Maylin says, and looks out the window, “It was one of my favorites from it too.”

Jaskier nods, and turns back to Geralt, “So… does she get to ride Roach?”

“No,” Geralt says, and Maylin smiles softly, finding it amusing that he is so protective of his horse. Her eyes cut into him when they turn back to him, and he relaxes a touch. “She is smart enough to have her own horse.”

Jaskier makes a shocked, offended face, and looks at Maylin, “Is this true fair maiden?”

“Yup. His name is Twi, and you may not ride him either,” Maylin says looking at him. “A bard should have a horse.”

“I would have one if Geralt shared his earnings with his partner,” Jaskier mutters.

“I don’t have a partner,” Geralt says, taking a long drag of his ale.

Maylin snorts softly, and shakes her head, “Excuse me Jaskier,” She leaves the table when he moves, and Geralt frowns as she heads to the bar, and speaks softly with the bartender, before following him into the back.

“I think you insulted her,” Jaskier states, and sniffs the wine she was drinking, “How can she get the top shelf?”

“What do you know it Jaskier?” Geralt retorts, and moves to go after her, but stops when she comes back holding a baby and cooing at it, the bartenders wife beside her, and they talk quietly. he then turns to Jaskier. “I will be right back.”

Before Jaskier can ask where he is going, he leaves the pub quickly. Maylin watches with a raised eyebrow, but he attention comes back to the baby in her arms, and she coos softly at her, “One day you will have someone that makes your heartbeat either too slow or too fast, and it will never be normal again.”

Jaskier joins Maylin to coo at the child, “What a cutie. Is it yours?” he looks to the wife, and she nods, “I should’ve known, she has your nose.”

The wife smiles, then makes an oh face and hands Maylin a letter she had been holding, “Right. This is for you.”

Maylin frowns a touch, and looks over the envelope, before sniffing it, and smiling warmly. She turns it over and looks at the seal, touching it soft sweet affection before she opens it, and pulls the letter out, and catches a crushed rose as it falls.

“Is that a love letter?” Jaskier asks, smirking at the rose.

Maylin nods a touch, “Don’t tell Geralt, but yes. From the only person who has ever weaseled her damn self into my heart.”

Jaskier’s eyes bulge, “Did you say ‘her’?”

Maylin nods and taps his chin. “Aye. And she is requesting my presence, so off I go. Give Geralt my regards.” She waves and walks out of the pub before Jaskier can catch her.

Maylin goes to her horse, and pats Twi’s neck, before getting on. Her eyes catch Geralt’s and she knows she will never forget the broken look he gave her when he watched her turn her horse away from him, and out of the town at a gallop.

Geralt swears, then looks at a letter and rose placed on Roach’s saddle and moves to pick them up and read over the letter.

My Dearest Alexandra Maylin Crown,

I find myself missing your presence at my side. I have a spectacular plan for us, that I am sure you will love.

Come to the stones. You know the ones. Don’t bring anyone else.

Zella Black.

Geralt frowns, and looks at the rose, “So she was lying about her real name?” he sniffs it, and finds it smells like strong coffee, rose, with a hint of feminine arousal, which he doesn’t know how it got on the damn flower. “Alexandra.” He finds he likes that name more.

He then turns to look after girl, and his heart, before he heads back into the pub, packing the green dress up in a bag to keep it as safe as he can.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #witcher geralt #geralt fanfic

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daisyxbuckley · 5 years ago

Text

Only Human//Mitch Rapp Series

A/N: Yall this one is long as shit. Holy god lol. Its like 3k+ so I apologize. ANYWAYS, I wanted to do some kind of fluff before we got all serious and shit. There’s some angst if you squint, but other than that I’m pretty proud. Also the song I used is Certain Things by James Arthur.

Description: Ophelia Lane has a past that most CIA operatives would hate to have. The 25 year old is sent back to The Barn to help Stan train the new batch of recruits, including one that is hell bent on getting revenge. Can she keep it together or will a secret that is hidden under the surface come back and haunt her? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been about three weeks since Mitch arrived at the Barn and Ophelia barely spoke to him. She realized that he was a man of few words, and though she could carry on a conversation, holding one with him wasn’t at the top of her list. Unless they were training or in class they avoided each other. Their training sessions had been brutal, and Ophelia knew that Mitch was good but she was better.

Slamming his back on the mat, Ophelia pressed on his jugular till she felt the tap and released standing up. “You need to stop lunging in.” She said walking over to her water bottle leaving him on the floor staring at her.

“I don’t lung at you.” He said standing up. “It’s just impossible to catch you off guard.” Mitch grumbled as he took a drink of his own water. Ophelia shrugged and tilted her hair back to get another drink when all of a sudden her legs were swept out from under her. Before she realized what was happening, Mitch was standing over her with her hands above her head and his thighs holding her legs down. Glaring up at him O tried to move but realized that he had a lot more strength than she gave him credit for. “Got you.” Mitch said with an irritating smirk on his face.

Ophelia could feel the weight of his thighs carefully applying pressure to her legs and tried to ignore the fact that his one hand was pinning both her wrists down. Mitch stared down at her with hard eyes trying to ignore how being this close to her was making him feel. Her tank top had ridden up her stomach a bit so he could see how low on her hips her leggings were and how smooth and tan her skin was. Ophelia sighed in defeat when he finally let her up and sat back balancing up on the heels of his feet. The brunette lifted herself up on her elbows and looked at the man.

“You didn’t win. You literally caught me off guard.” She said huffing. Mitch had gotten up and was wiping the sweat off his face as Ophelia pretended to not notice how his t-shirt stuck to his skin defining his muscles and how his workout shorts didn’t define his many ...assets. Sighing she stood up and walked over to where he was standing, taking his water bottle from his hands. Shrugging she took a drink and handed it back. “Well you just spilled mine so I took yours.”

Mitch just stared at her while she gathered up all her stuff and started heading towards the bedrooms. “I’d shower if I were you. You kind of stink.” She said before she walked out. Mitch kept his eyes on her till she rounded the corner then turned away shaking his head a bit. Ophelia was a lot like him, and it honestly made Mitch understand why people hated working with him. Grabbing his bag he followed Ophelia towards the shower, nodding to some of the other guys that passed by.

“Mitch, hey.” Conners said running up to the shaggy haired man. “I need your help with a move that you did in training today. I want to learn it.” Mitch nodded as he followed Conners back to the training room taking one last look at the bathroom at the end of the hall. Mitch and Conners stayed in the training room for another two hours before they both decided they had enough. Clapping him on the back Conners walked out leaving Mitch alone with his thoughts.

Turning the shower off, the man stepped out of the stall and wrapped a towel around his waist. When he walked by Ophelia’s room earlier he had noticed the light was off and figured she was asleep. Getting dressed, he walked out of the bathroom and headed to his room quietly closing the door. Going to his desk Mitch booted up the laptop and looked out into the black night as he surveyed the grounds. He was about to turn away when he noticed a figure in all black running across the yard towards the woods. He almost missed the brunette hair that was swept up into the hood of the jacket and he realized that it was Ophelia. Throwing a sweatshirt on, he quickly ran out of his room and down the hall towards the front door. She was fast and knew these woods better than him, but he wondered what she was up to.

Mitch was silent as he followed her trail through the woods that let to a clearing. The grass was cut and if you laid down you would be able to see the wide expanse of stars that were above. Noticing a figure lying on the ground, Mitch crept closer and just watched Ophelia. Her hair was out of her ponytail and was laid out like a halo around her head. Her eyes were closed as she quietly sang to the music that was playing in her ears. Mitch started forward trying to get her to notice him as he crept up, afraid of scaring her.

“I know you’re there.” She said finally. “I noticed you following me after I entered the woods.” The girl sat up and took a headphone out of her ear as she looked at the man. They stared each other down for a minute before Mitch took a seat in front of her and crossed his legs. Ophelia continued staring at him, refusing to break eye contact before he did.

“Why are you out here?” He asked.

“I needed to think.” Was all O said as she put the music back in and laid down looking up. Mitch sighed and moved next to her trying to keep a good distance. Ophelia took an ear bud out of her ear and handed it to him without looking over and Mitch. He took it from her and put it in listening to the song that was playing in his ear.

“Something about you

It’s like an addiction hit me

With your best shot honey.”

Mitch looked over at Ophelia as she laid next to him with her eyes closed. She moved her lips along to the music and he couldn’t help but focus on the way her tongue swept over her bottom one. How her hand tapped a beat on her stomach, her other hand behind her head. In that moment she didn’t have a hard look on her face, or a sarcastic look that he had grown to know. She looked more like that girl in the picture that he saw.

“I’ve got no reason to doubt you

Cause some things hurt

And you’re my only virtue

And I’m virtually yours”

“You’re staring Rapp.” Ophelia’s voice was like music to him in a sense. It didn’t cut through the silence in a bad way but it made him look up from her lips to her now open eyes. She didn’t have the hard look behind them for once and Mitch was wondering if she was actually starting to open up.

“You said you come out here to think?” He asked her. “What do you think about?” The brunette turned her head back so she was facing the sky. “Trust me when I say Rapp, you don’t want to know what goes on inside my head.” He scoffed at her as she sat up, the music was still playing in his ear as the other earbud fell from hers.

“I’m serious. You ever wonder why I keep to myself..why I'm up here? I’m pretty sure by now you know that I'm not just another trainee.” Mitch nodded to her to show that he wanted her to continue. “I’ve been out of the field for a bit, that’s what happens when you survive a bombing but lose a spouse.” Ophelia picked at her sleeve, hating how she was feeling right now. Vulnerable and exposed was not a good look on her. “When I lost Ronnie...I didn’t know how I was going to go on. I refused to accept another partner, another mission, basically iced everyone out. I sat behind a desk for a year because I didn’t want to lose anyone else.” Sitting up a little straighter, she rubbed her eyes. “Then I just became angry. I ended up going out on a mission a few months ago...and I lost it. It would have ended very badly if I didn’t have the backup I had. That's when Stan and Irene realized that I would be better off here...training the new kids till I was okay enough.”

“Then I came along.”

“Then you came along.” Ophelia said with a ghost of a smile on her lips. “You know, I’ve known about you since day one. The second you popped up on the C.I.A’s radar I knew. I didn’t know your face or your name..but I knew who you were. And when Irene wanted to train you I thought she was crazy.”

“You and Stan both apparently” Mitch huffed out looking down. Ophelia reached her hand out to his and squeezed it.

“You’re good Mitch. And I know that you’ve been through a lot of shit in your life that you shouldn’t have ever gone through. But if you want to do this...then you need to channel that rage and anger into something that will help you. Because if you don’t then it’s going to get you killed.” Ophelia whispered. She knew it was tough, she wanted revenge so bad with Ronnie died that she would of killed anyone to get it...and that mistake almost cost her.

Before Mitch could say anything, Ophelia’s ringtone cut through the silence like a knife. He pulled the ear bud out of his ear as she unplugged it and answered.

“This is Lane.” She said quickly. Looking at Mitch she stood up and motioned for him to follow her. “I’m in the clearing...right now?” She asked with a confused look on her face. “Stan its almost 1 in the morning…..no sir ...yes sir ...yeah i’ll grab him.” She said as she hung up. “Apparently Stan needs, and I quote, ‘our asses in his fucking office in ten minutes or hes going to gut us with a spoon.’”

Mitch shook his head as he handed Ophelia her head phones back and they started towards the house.

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

What the two weren't expecting was Irene sitting in Stan’s office like she was expecting them. Raising an eyebrow at the fact that they both looked like they just came from outside. Ophelia noticed the look and thank god that she decided to ignore it. They both sat down in the two available chairs in the office and looked at each other before looking at Stan.

“4 hours ago, 15 kilos of weapons grade plutonium was stolen from a defunct research facility.” Stan said with no greeting. O noticed Mitch tense up and lean forward. “Right now all we know is that with that much plutonium it's going to cause something high on the disaster scale.”

“So basically the next 9/11.” Ophelia stated as she crossed her legs. “So what are we doing about it?” She asked noticing the look on Stan’s face.

“We are going in. All we know right now is that someone named Ghost has taken control of it.” Stan shot a look at Irene that Ophelia didn’t miss but he continued. “He killed the suppliers and went underground. We don’t know exactly what his plan is with it but we need to stop it.”

Mitch stood up immediately and everyone looked over at him. “Let’s go.” He said gruffly. This was a look that Ophelia didn’t recognize at all.

“We are securing a jet to take us to Istanbul. Go get some sleep, we will tell you when it’s time to go.” Irene said remaining calm. Mitch looked at them all like they were crazy.

“Are you serious? This guy has enough plutonium to take out an entire city and we are playing the waiting game?” He yelled. Ophelia actually jumped a bit at his voice and shot a look at Stan. “You guys wanna wait here and twiddle your thumbs while he what, goes and kills more innocent people?”

“Look here shit stain. No one wants to catch this guy more than us, but unlike you and your reckless ass we have to go through the proper channels. I want to do this right since both Ophelia and I will be out there with you and I really don’t want to have to worry about you killing us.” Stan yelled standing up and matching Mitch. “Now get the fuck out of my office. Both of you.” He didn’t relax till both Ophelia and Mitch were gone and the door was closed.

“Stan..we really need to tell her.” Irene said quietly. Stan sat down and shook his head rubbing his eyes.

“We will tell her when it’s time. I don’t need her getting distracted.’

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

Ophelia refused to go to bed, instead opting to sit in the kitchen and read over what Irene had left her before the Director headed out. It wasn’t much as this guy literally lived up to his alias. Taking another sip of her coffee, she noticed that Stan had walked in. “O in my office, now.” Was all he said before he turned around and walked away. Sighing she got up and followed him in noticing a laptop on his side table. Mitch joined them a few seconds later and looked at Ophelia with a confused look who just shrugged and leaned against the desk.

“You wanted to see me sir?” Mitch asked as Stan stood up from the laptop that he opened and walked over.

“Yeah. Shut the door.” Was all he said and Ophelia could feel the bad feeling in her stomach returning. Mitch shut the door and came into the room further. “So all of us are shipping out soon. We got the jet secured but there’s one more thing we need to go over.” He said as he gestured for Mitch to sit in the chair that faced the window. Mitch sat and Stan walked over and sat across from him. Ophelia was almost afraid to move because of what might be going on.

“You like movies?” Stan asked leaning back.

“Yeah.” Mitch said shrugging. O pushed off the desk and hesitantly walked over to see what Stan was planning.

She tried to hide the audible gasp that left her mouth when Stan turned the computer that had a video playing on it. Ophelia could hear Mitch’s voice on the video sounding a lot different then how it was now. A beautiful blonde woman in a white bikini had a giant smile on her face as she looked into the camera, moving forward.

Rage. That was all Mitch felt. Rage that he had tried to push down started to bubble up to the surface. All he saw was Katrina’s face..how she looked only ten minutes before she died. Her smile, her laugh, everything about her started rushing back from the box that he kept it locked in for so long. “What the fuck is this?” He yelled standing up.

“Yeah..I thought so.” Was all Stan said as he stood up as well with a smug look on his face. Ophelia looked at him with a look that she didn’t recognize. He had used some pretty bad tactics before but this was new.

“You thought so?” Mitch repeated to him. His voice was laced with anger and rage.

“Yeah. Want me to turn it off.” Stan said. The video was still playing in the background and Ophelia could feel her heart breaking for Mitch as he was clearly trying to keep his composure and not look at the video.

“Stan...turn it off.” She said quietly moving forward. She reached out to close the laptop but he smacked her hand away.

“Turn that shit off.” Mitch growled out trying not to let his voice crack.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? I don’t.” Stan said. Ophelia saw the loon on Mitch’s face a split second before he moved and also saw Stan grab the computer cord. Mitch lunged across the table at Stan as the older man wrapped the cord around his neck and pulled him to the ground.

“Stan!” Ophelia yelled as she could hear Mitch struggling to breath. “Stan let him go!”

“Never, EVER let it get personal. You understand?” Stan said evenly before letting Mitch go. The younger man dropped to the floor with a thud. Ophelia ran over as Stan started to walk away, kneeling down to help him up.

“Get the fuck off me O.” Mitch said, his voice raspier than usual as he quickly stood up and glared at Stan.

“We leave 8 am. Be here.” He spat out at Mitch. “I’ll be here at 7:30.” Mitch said stalking out of the room.

“What the fuck was that Dad.” Ophelia spun around as she heard the door shut. She never called Stan anything except sir and his first name. She knew how dangerous it was if anyone found out she was his daughter but she figured alone in his office, it didn’t matter.

“The kid needed to learn.” Was all Stan said as he sat down at his desk. Ophelia came over and slammed her hands down in front of him.

“So then throw him in the woods for three days, deny him meals. I don’t care...that was heartless. Even for you.” The girl was mad. Madder at him than she had ever been. “You know I expected a lot of things out of you...but using his dead fiance as a way to make him focus is the lowest you have ever gone.” She said turning on her heel and heading out the door.

@cxddlyash @xceafh

#mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp #mitch rapp fanfic #mitch rapp imagines #american assassin #american assassin fanfic #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski

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calliefm · 5 years ago

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( sydney sweeney, cisfemale ) hey ! have you seen CALLIOPE ‘ CALLIE ’ MACDERMOT around ? SHE works at the HOT COCOA STAND at big bear resort, but they must be off their shift by now. well, if you do see them can you let me know ? they’re 22 years old & they’ve been working here for ONE YEAR. they tend to be +CREATIVE & +SELFESS, but can also be -LAZY & -IRRESPONSIBLE. the other employees have labeled them THE MALINGERER. thanks a lot ! ( oversize hoodies, first sip of coffee , cold side of the pillow , high ponytail , winterfresh gum, & smell of paint )

hey folks ! i’m very excited to get this group going, i’m a big sucker for simple plots and it’s my favorite season ! i apologize in advance for callie though ! i’m 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑟𝑎𝑛 by the way ! i’m 𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 years old and i go by the 𝑠ℎ𝑒/ℎ𝑒𝑟 pronouns ! i can’t wait to meet everyone and get this lil group going !

i formally introduce to you — 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘵, big bear’s 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝 !

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝘽 𝘼 𝘾 𝙆 𝙂 𝙍 𝙊 𝙐 𝙉 𝘿

callie macdermot was born in boulder, co to jennifer baker and james o’connell. here’s the catch... jennifer was a freshmen in university when she became pregnant with callie. jennifer took the year off when she found out, not telling her mother and working many side jobs to keep her small flat with her boyfriend ( james ). they thought they were going to keep the baby and live this happy life, but jennifer began to wonder if they were able to even take care of the child. this was what caused problems in their relationship and it honestly became pretty toxic. by her third trimester, jennifer and james were on and off a lot. it was off when callie was born. by that time, james wasn’t there to convince jennifer to keep the child so the papers were signed and callie was put up for adoption !

it was only a month until callie was adopted by a loving family in big bear. her parents were officially emma and benjamin macdermot. emma and benjamin had been struggling to conceive, and officially made the decision to adopt a baby around the time callie was born ( kinda perfect right ? ). her parents were pretty well known around town. they were also high school sweethearts, went to college together, and graduated together. her mother works as a primary teacher and her dad is a head chef at a restaurant on the outskirts of town.

it was a pretty picture perfect life for callie. she loved her parents and they loved her, even through her being a complete terror growing up. callie was a ball of energy when she was young. she was constantly bouncing off the walls, asking questions, getting into slight trouble, and all that ! as annoying as she got... she was adorable and she had an ebullient smile that was irresistible.

she wasn’t used to change. everyone was always just there for her. she lived in the same house her whole life. she walked the same streets everyday. she saw the same faces on the street. she hung out with the same group of friends since kindergarten. but stuff started to change when the beginning of year 9 when her friend sat her down and decided to let her know that they don’t want to hang out with callie anymore. there was no explanation for it, it was just petty teenage drama, but it oddly broke callie for the time being.

her friend group had been with her for such a long time, it sort of shaped her personality. but, by the end of year 9, she realized who she was with them wasn’t her. she didn’t want to wear skirts to school, she didn’t like to gossip or constantly talk about boys, she didn’t want to wear an insane amount of bronzer on her face. so ! after the break, callie 2.0 made her very first appearance — with a big sweater, comfortable jeans, glasses snugged on her nose, and a bright face ready to just do her.

with her new persona, you’ll easily learn she’s pretty lazy. she will fall asleep on the stairs if she’s too tired to climb up the stairs to go to bed. she’s fallen asleep on the easel while she began to take up a new hobby ( art ! ) but callie is also insanely bright ! she has pulled straight a’s throughout high school career and had taken an interest in the brain. she’s literally taken all the brain cells yall... blame callie

when it came to choosing an university, she knew she didn’t want to go too far from big bear because she definitely would have separation anxiety from her parents. the decision came down to picking the best financial route and big bear community college was it ! she decided to go with a biology major her first year, but after taking a psychology course, she quickly switched over to a psychology major after her first year.

𝙍 𝙄 𝙂 𝙃 𝙏 𝙉 𝙊 𝙒

she’s currently a junior and still a psych major ! she lives in an apartment near the resort and also the community college ! her parents don’t live too far, and since she adores them you know she’ll be making constant visits ! she definitely cooks for every hang out because she picked up a few things from papa chef ! and atm she’s thinking about picking up an art major since she’s been really into it lately !

she works at the hot cocoa stand in the snow bowl ! she’s constantly making new flavors and such so feel free to stop by the stand to try her concoction !

𝙋 �� 𝙍 𝙎 𝙊 𝙉 𝘼 𝙇 𝙄 𝙏 𝙔

let me start off by saying that she’s probably the sleepiest person you’ll ever meet ! if you don’t know where she is, you’ll figure that she’s in her room catching some zs. callie is also very lazy and will ask you to give her the remote even though it’s two feet away. when she’s down for it, callie definitely knows how to have a good time, you just gotta drag her out of her room to get that slakfjds

and even though she’s insanely book smart, i can assure you she’s one of the biggest idiots you’ll ever meet. she’s do the dumbest shit like almost burn down the kitchen bc she forgot to put water in her mac n cheese n left the stove on

is weed allowed to be a personality trait too ? because that’s a thing with callie ! she is almost constantly high it’s kinda bad, but she’s not annoying about it ! some people probably doesn’t even know she smokes weed because even without it she’s just ... like that

𝙍 𝘼 𝙉 𝘿 𝙊 𝙈 𝙁 𝘼 𝘾 𝙏 𝙎

callie works at the big bear resort at the hot cocoa stand ! she does a lot of dumb shit there so enjoy her stories and often leaves the stand unattended when it’s not too busy ! if your chara works on the slopes, i can assure you she’ll throw at least one snowball at them a day

she tends to make those really tiny paintings and gives them to her friends and random people on the street

someone tell her to buy a new pair of converse because she’s had the same pair since year 10

she’s addicted to getting small pointless, but cute tattoos

she has never opened a wine bottle normally. she has a little game with herself where each time she opens a bottle, she has to try opening it with a new object ( a key, knife, spoon, lighter, shoe, etc )

she’s REALLY good at procrastinating. her best works comes out with 5 cups of coffee and at 5 am the morning it’s due

callie has never lost a game of rock paper scissors and she literally bought herself a trophy for it

she makes an insanely good alcoholic hot chocolate and will only make it for someone if it’s their birthday or they practically beg her

she had no idea how to put on makeup, she always has a friend do it for her when they’re going out oR she’ll have a ugly eyeliner and unblended foundation

stays up allllll night listening to true crime podcasts or watching paranormal youtube videos! and she really believes in aliens

she’s broken her glasses at least 5 times in the past year but she doesnt like contacts because she’s too scared to try to touch her eye, so when u see her without her glasses you’ll know she definitely cant see

she visits her parents every other week or so because (1) she misses them and (2) she needs to do laundry and her mom or dad will 10/10 do it for her because she’s baby ! but she really does miss them often and will randomly go to her home to just sit with them

i think that’s all i can say for now folks ! if you made it to the end, i love you so much ! here’s coupons for michael’s craft store in return !

#bigbearintro #weed tw

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spacenightwing · 7 years ago

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BatFamily quotes as said by my family during Christmas Eve:

Alfred:

• *cutting ham with electric cutter* Bruce: “Could you try to cut it thinner?” Alfred: *sassy eyebrow™️*

• “Are you on tinder or gender or whatever the kids are doing?”

• *accidentally cracks an egg into the garbage disposal* “I can honestly say I’ve never done that.”

• *reads ‘Taws the Night before Christmas’ for everyone before opening presents*

Bruce:

• “Why do you ask my opinion when you do what you want anyway?”

• *in regards to his own cooking skills:* “It’s all not good I’m not proud.”

• *sees sons doing something stupid* “Don’t make me embarrass you in front of all these people.”

• “I told the boys not to talk all night long. They didn’t listen.”

• *pointing to two kids:* “Drama!” *pointing to two other kids:* “Morons!”

Dick:

• “If yall would just listen to me we’d be fine.”

• “You’re going outside? You mad at me yet?”

• “I saw Tim get half way threw his beer then down a BIGGG glass of water.”

• *speaking to stupid brother* “Why were you planning my funeral?”

• *leave his present that he absolutely loves at the house. Realizes when he’s half way home. Turns around to come get it even though someone can give it to him tomorrow morning.*

• *singing Christmas songs wayyy out of tune. All. Damn. Night.*

Jason:

• *everyone arguing as to when to start cutting the vegetables* Jason: “I want to when everyone gets here. Then I don’t have to talk to people.”

• “Bah-fucking-humbug”

• *sneezing* “Ahh-shit!”

• *sarcastic voice* “Dear Lord, I apologize.”

• Cass: “I spy something grey.” Jason: “Bruce’s hair!”

• Stephanie: “I’m gonna kill ya!” Jason: “Again?”

Tim:

• Damian: “Where’s my favorite knife?” Tim: “I hid it so that you have nothing when you’re ready to kill me.”

• “See what I have to deal with?”

• *Whispers to cousin because he’s really tired* “I feel like I’m on drugs...”

•*falls asleep in a ball in the foot ottoman*

• Tim: “That’s it I’m going to bed.” Bruce: “Tim, wait.” Tim: “Can’t hear you you’re breaking up!” Bruce: “We’re not on the phone!”

Damian:

• *making an appetizer* “This is MY dish! Mine! No one else helps me!”

• guest at the party: “You’re a Wayne you’ve got to be doing something fun.” Damian: “yeah it’s probably illegal.”

• *method to avoid having to take pictures* “Like a tornado: duck and cover!”

• Damian: “What do you think Drake?” Tim: “What are we talking about?” Damian: “That’s the best answer you’ve given all year.”

Barbara:

• “It’s Christmas and we’re all gonna pretend we like each other.”

•Jason: “That fucking bitch.” Babs: “That’s two dollars in the swear jar.”

• “We’ve always risen up to low standards.”

• Damian: “you’res sucks.” Barbara: “I fail to agree with you.”

Stephanie:

• *trying to call the dog over but he won’t listen* “Why won’t you love me?”

• “80:20 rule. 80% of revenue comes from 20% of the work you do.”

• “You can’t spontaneously take pictures of me!”

• “You need to quite hatin’ it’s bad for the heart.”

Cass:

• *after watching someone open a gift* “Hey that’s a nice hat I’ll take it!”

• *to a obnoxious little cousin* “Don’t tell me how how to run my life.”

• *talking to the dog* “Can I just, like, spoon you?”

Duke:

• “Everyone in this house gives me hellish sarcasm. Hellish!”

• *Dick stands up for Duke due to sarcasm overload* “See? He's of the most supporting guy I know.”

• “No one ever laughed at me without good reason.”

• “You know what I’ve realized? The last two family events we’ve had, Jason’s been on the floor either fixing something or cleaning something up.”

#batfamily #incorrect batfamily quotes #my stuff #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #my family #merry xmas

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phan-of-the-pen · 6 years ago

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I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 12

HI YALL IVE GOT A NEW CHAPTER OUT OF THE BLUE THAT I JUST WROTE BC @dansyellowshirt AND AN ANON WERE LOVELY AND MADE ME SMILE SO IVE BEEN TYPING FURIOUSLY FOR THE PAST HOUR OR SO ENJOYYYY

Tags for chapter: F L U F F, kissing

Words for chapter: ~2.7k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

When Dan woke up it was dark in his flat. The television was off—which was not how Dan remembered leaving it—and none of his lights were on. The only source of light in the whole flat were the blinds on his big window being drawn, letting the moonlight filter into the room and giving everything the softest edge.

He groaned after a moment of realizing that he was awake, shuffling his body a little to try and get more comfortable. It was dark—obviously he wasn't supposed to be awake yet if the sun wasn't even up so why the fuck was he?

Dan started to try and think back to what had happened earlier to put him in this position, however, when he started to move, whatever he was lying on top of shifted as well and let out a soft-yet-very human sound. Dan held his breath and suppressed a scream. What the fucking hell-

Dan tried to jerk his body up into a sitting position only to fail due to some kind of weight resting on the small of his back. His heart still racing, Dan snapped up his neck instead of his whole body only to come face-to-face with Phil's sleeping one.

What the goddamn hell-

Oh.

Everything came rushing back to him all at once, and relieved at the fact that he hadn't been tied down to his couch by burglars or something just as utterly ridiculous in his sleep, Dan let out a breath and relaxed against Phil, feeling the anxiety in his system start to drain out.

His peace of mind didn't last long, though, because half a heartbeat later he was blushing horribly and his head was already thinking of a million different excuses to...to explain whatever this was.

Phil was lying on his back on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest. Dan was curled on top of him, his head tucked under Phil's neck and right up on his chest (Dan had a feeling that Phil's chin had been resting on his head while they had both been asleep. The thought made his heart race a little bit faster). Their bodies were tangled together under the duvet, their legs intertwined and Phil's arms cast around Dan's waist, Dan's own arms pulled under himself. The duvet itself was draped over the both of them in a bit of a mess, slipping off of the sofa and onto the floor at the one corner.

Dan glanced up once again. Phil's face was smushed comically against the junction of the back of the couch and the armrest, mouth parted and hair sticking up in more ways than what was probably physically possible. His glasses—when the fuck had they appeared?—were askew and slipping off the bridge of his nose. Dan felt a dopey smile spread across his face. Phil was adorable when he was sleeping but still as much of an endearing mess as he was when he was awake. Unbelievable.

He reached up and lifted the black frames from Phil's face, gently to try and avoid waking the older man. Phil didn't even stir, and Dan twisted around, reaching with his arm out to place the glasses on his coffee table. Phil grumbled in his sleep at Dan's fidgeting and brought his arms a little tighter around Dan's waist, one of his legs twitching. Dan snorted out of amusement, but settled back into place and held himself still.

Under normal circumstances, Dan's head would be going crazy. He would be unconsciously psychoanalyzing everything in the situation and he would be doubting himself in his normal manner. But in a pleasant change of heart—or mind, rather—his head was staying blissfully quiet. Dan didn't have an explanation for it; it might have been because of waking up not too long ago, or maybe because he had absolutely exhausted himself with all of his emotional distress lately, or something else. Regardless, Dan wasn't going to force it. The quiet thoughts were a welcome change.

Dan let his eyes drift up past Phil's face and to the exposed window and the stars outside of it. He had always loved to look at the stars ever since he was younger, and now that he was laying on top of Phil, letting himself be held, his head quiet, everything was so much better. If time decided to freeze right at this moment, Dan wouldn't even care.

~~~~~

The next thing Dan knew, he was yawning and cracking his eyes open.

He groaned from the light nearly blinding him as soon as he lifted his eyelids even a little bit, and moved to tuck his face into the couch cushions, but ended up snuggling down further into the duvet still draped over him and shifting his whole body as well to try and get more comfortable. Dan started to nod off once more, when he suddenly realized that he was alone on said sofa.

Picking his head up and blearily opening his eyes, Dan looked around the lounge. He didn't see Phil anywhere, but his glasses weren't on the coffee table anymore.

Did he leave?

Dan jumped as a loud yelp sounded form the kitchen and as well as what Dan could only guess was something metal—a fork or knife, maybe—clattering to the ground.

"Phil?"

Dan didn't get an answer, but he could hear Phil muttering to himself in the background, so very reluctantly, Dan rolled off of the couch and tugged the duvet tighter around his shoulders, not willing to give up the comfort just yet. Dan padded into the kitchen. A large handful of his cabinets were open and there were two bowls of cereal on the counter, the box of Crunchy Nut that Dan had left on the floor yesterday next to the poured cereal. Phil was bent over, picking up a spoon from the floor, which was probably what Dan had heard falling.

"Phil?" Dan said again, with a bit of a yawn this time, rubbing his eye. He was tired as hell.

Phil jumped about a dozen feet into the air and dropped the spoon yet again, it clattering away from Phil's foot. Phil spun around with a hand on his chest, eyes wide.

"Dan! You scared me!"

"Phil," Dan sighed, rolling his eyes a little but smiling nonetheless, "sometimes I'm surprised by you, really."

"Look, here I am trying to get us both a nice breakfast-"

"Of cereal? Scratch that, of my cereal?"

"Oh shut it. Like I said, here I was, being the perfect guest and you just scare me. Rude." Phil said, sticking his tongue out and picking up the dropped silverware. He slid the now-dirty spoon into Dan's sink and went to reach for another, but Dan stopped him.

"Don't bother, I don't think I have any milk to pour in anyways, so we don't really need spoons as long as you don't have some weird 'no-eating-with-hands' thing I need to know about." Dan walked over and picked up his bowl of cereal, giving Phil a little, appreciative smile. "C'mon, we can eat in the lounge on my couch."

Dan didn't really wait for Phil, but he could hear him moving—presumably—to follow Dan. As an afterthought, Dan called over his shoulder, "And close the cabinet doors!" to which Phil replied with a very indignant sounding "Yes, mum!"

Within a few moments of Dan dropping himself back onto the couch, Phil was there as well, sitting on the other end, their legs both in the middle and on top of each other. Dan was reminded of a few nights ago, with them playing video games, his feet draped over Phil's lap, and what happened after. Dan looked at Phil out of the corner of his eye. He didn't really mind if he could get the chance to kiss Phil again. But the question was; did Phil?

They ate in silence, but it wasn't an oppressive one, just the two of them munching and enjoying each other's company. Dan's thoughts were still a little hopeful, a little wary, but he tried to keep them tame enough to not show; he didn't want to ruin this with his insecurities.

Dan finished his breakfast first, and he tapped his fingers against the ceramic for a few moments before he gave in.

"Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah?"

He had to know.

"Last night you said we wouldn't talk about anything until I slept, and well...I don't have work for-" Dan looked at the clock on his wall, "-another hour." He purposely left half of his question unsaid, and Phil nodded in understanding, making Dan simultaneously breathe out a little sigh of relief and tighten his grip on his bowl in anxious anticipation.

"Just because of time, I don't think we should talk about anything too heavy," Phil began, finishing the bite in his mouth and swallowing, "but, I think you're right. We do have a bunch of stuff to sort out."

"Mhm...what do you, uh, want to sort out then?" Dan asked. He felt nervous and unlike earlier, he was sure that it showed with how his fingers wouldn't stop moving along the ceramic and how his shoulders were tense and pulled tight to his body.

Phil just smiled and plucked the empty bowl from Dan's hand, putting both of their bowls on the table near them and scooting forward. Phil clasped one of their hands together, and with the skin-on-skin contact his heart started to beat a little bit happier in his chest. Phil leaned in until their faces were close enough for Dan to see the starbursts of his eyes, and let his other hand fall to the side of Dan's head.

"Can I kiss you, Dan?" Phil asked, his voice low.

"Yes," Dan breathed, his voice even quieter than Phil's.

This kiss wasn't like the ones they shared that night. It was softer, but still filled to the brim with emotion. These emotions, however, weren't like the powerful, fast, desperate ones that had dominated their kisses before. They were much more gentle, filled with a more soothing warmth, and—dare he say it—drenched in a feeling that Dan couldn't help but think as something similar to adoration.

Phil's mouth was warm and his lips were velvet soft, dragging across Dan's, his thumb brushing Dan's cheekbone over and over, making Dan's head spin. Dan's eyes had long drifted closed, and he just let himself relax into the cushions, absolutely melting under the kisses Phil was giving him.

He nipped at Dan's lip and pulled back, Dan's head following him until his neck just wouldn't stretch anymore and he had to let it fall back against the sofa, a pout on his features but not even caring if Phil saw.

"Phil, come back," Dan whined. Phil giggled at his antics, but decidedly didn't lean back in to kiss Dan breathless like he wanted him to. Instead, Phil brought their linked hands up so they could both see them and started to play with Dan's knuckles.

"Dan, I wasn't kidding when I said I've fallen for you, completely and utterly. You're Dan Howell and you have my heart, right here in your hands." Phil squeezed Dan's hand with his own. "I would love nothing more than if you gave me the chance to be your boyfriend. To take you out on dates, and watch shitty Netflix movies with, and dance in the kitchen with at 3AM when we certainly should be sleeping, and, yes, to play with your hair just like you said you love. I want to kiss you and surprise you at the coffee shop and do all the cheesy things couples do." Phil leaned in and dropped a series of little, feather-light kisses to Dan's forehead. "What do you say," he whispered, "will you give me the chance?"

"Phil," Dan said, drilling his eyes shut. He could feel his insecurities rising again, just as illogical as usual, and just as self-depreciative. "I can't love you completely, like how you deserve. If we were to date—and god, do I want to date you—you'd have to give up sex because I'm sorry but I'm too sex repulsed to try and do anything with you, and I'd never be able to stand anything like an open relationship, and-"

"Dan, Dan, shhh," Phil said, starting to stroke Dan's cheek again. It was incredibly soothing, and helped settled some of Dan's racing thoughts. "I don't care. I don't care. I can live perfectly content with never having sex again for the rest of my life if I have you, Dan. You are a thousand times better than sex, alright? And you can love me completely even if you aren't sexually attracted to me. I don't need physical pleasure to be happy or be loved 'as I deserve' even if that's what your ex and parents told you when you came out. All you need is love to give, and I have a feeling that you have a lot of that from shutting yourself out for so long."

Their gazes were connected, and Dan didn't know if he was going to start crying or laughing—maybe both. Phil was smiling gently, his eyes so tender in their expression, and Dan wanted nothing more than to kiss this man, to kiss him and hug him and just hide them both away from the world to just be happy together.

So that's what Dan did.

Dan surged forward, wrapping his arms around Phil's shoulders and pulling him in, their mouths crashing together. Dan kissed him like he was a dying man and he was trying to commit the feeling of Phil's mouth to memory, and Phil returned the sentiment just as eagerly, carding his hands through Dan's hair and following every press of Dan's lips with his own.

God, why did Dan ever try and deny himself from falling in love with Phil? Why did he get so caught up in being scared of what happened in the past to enjoy the future? Why didn't he start kissing this man sooner?

Dan didn't know any answers to his questions, but fuck it didn't matter.

They broke away because they had started to run out of air and Dan brought his hands up to Phil's face, cupping it, and nodding, shaking his head up and down furiously, moisture shining in his eyes. He couldn't help it—he didn't remember the last time he had felt. So. Loved. And. Accepted.

"Yes, yes yes yes, Phil, god, I'd want nothing more," Dan whispered, chasing his own words with little kisses on Phil's cheeks, his nose, his forehead, everywhere.

Phil's entire face lit up like the fucking sky and a smile blinding enough to shadow the sun took over his face. He brought them back together, and this time their kiss was slow, both of them smiling into it, wrapped up in each other.

"Daniel Howell, you just made me the happiest man on this side of the Thames."

~~~~~

No matter how much Dan might not have wanted to, they had to disentangle themselves much sooner than preferable because Dan had to shower and get ready for work. He had already been let off the hook by Jaime once, and he refused to leave her hanging like that for a second day in a row. Plus, he needed the money desperately.

However, things were different than his normal routine. Because when he got out of the shower, Phil kissed him on the way in. Because Phil was standing in his kitchen, scrolling on his phone, in Dan's own clothes because Phil only had his Tesco's uniform and he had already slept in it last night. Because they had walked out together, Phil's hand snaking down to intertwine in Dan's within a block of leaving Dan's flat. Because Phil had gone out of his way to walk Dan to work even if it was in the opposite direction of his own flat. Because Phil kissed Dan sweetly on the lips before letting him go, promising to stop in later.

But as Dan walked in the shop, a million emotions swirling in his chest, threatening to burst, they settled, each one fluttering away until only one was left, making Dan's limbs feel light and warm, putting a dumbstruck smile on his face that he knew would end up lasting the whole day.

Dan was happy.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

#phanfiction #phanfic #my fics #dan howell #phil lester #ace!dan #weatherman!phil #au #i dare you to stay #fluff #kissing #chaptered #i dare you to stay: chapter 12 #allyssaTM #phan

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