#I still love the idea of the coin toss so very much I’ll start doing that more honestly bc it was enchanting and also fun

[ongreenergrasses]

prompt fill for @sigurism , i hope you enjoy this dear friend! 💜💜💜

36. …to give up control

It took a long time for the street to rebuild. It wasn’t their fault. That’s what Crowley kept telling Aziraphale. It wasn’t their fault, not really. The disasters just seemed to follow them.

“We cause them, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, peering out the window at the street below and the enormous jagged gash in the pavement. It was deeper than Crowley had thought one could have a gash in the pavement without hitting something below. Pipes or what have you. He said this to Aziraphale, and Aziraphale just stared.

“We don’t cause disasters,” Crowley said.

“You specifically caused that one,” Aziraphale said, pointing at the crack in the street.

“Well…”

“And that one.” The cafe’s sign was still dangling precariously by one hook.

“That was your fault.”

“And that one.” Aziraphale pointed to a lamppost that Crowley had, admittedly, hit with the Bentley not two days ago.

“That one I did cause,” Crowley conceded.

“Don’t you think we should, maybe, help them?”

“I don’t know how to pour asphalt,” Crowley said.

“A small miracle? That I know for a fact you know how to do.”

“The cement truck is already here,” Crowley pointed out. “It’ll be too suspicious.”

“Then fix the sign.”

Crowley very nearly told Aziraphale that he should fix the sign, because it was his disaster and Crowley had nothing to do with it, but he stopped. What did he know about homes or neighborhoods or belonging? He felt like he belonged in his Bentley, and he hoped that he and Aziraphale both thought that he belonged in the bookshop, but Aziraphale was an upstanding citizen. A pillar of the community. Maybe to be a pillar of the community, you needed to fix these types of things.

It was important to Aziraphale, at least.

Crowley pulled Aziraphale over to him with a hand on his shoulder and kissed him. Aziraphale made a surprised sound, but slowly his arms came to loop up around Crowley’s neck, and even more slowly, he kissed Aziraphale back.

“I’ll fix your bloody sign,” Crowley said.

send a kiss

[thesolferino]

Touchdown

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: smut, minors please keep scrolling!

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon

— summary: clay loses a football game, and while he’s already mad, you decide to rile him up even more.

“God fucking damnit.”

Clay muttered, pulling his helmet off and slamming it against one of the benches as he said the last word, making you almost jump as you quietly trailed along behind him, feet following in his footsteps. He ran a sweaty hand through his hair, wiping beads of sweat off the sides of his face as he moved towards his locker, carelessly hanging the helmet in its place as he huffed a frustrated sigh.

The locker room was empty, no traces of anyone’s belongings left, as Clay took his sweet time yelling and arguing with the coach after he instructed the rest of the team to change and get out of his sight; everyone had left before he even reached the lockers. The game hadn’t ended well for his team - the game tied, and he was feeling confident, patting their center, Nick, on the back in encouragement, shooting a pearly smile to those who cheered them on and filled the bleachers. They played overtime, and a coin was tossed, during which his team ultimately lost. Looking back on it in the pessimistic state that he was in now, throwing the towel he used to wipe his face at the wall, that should’ve been the first sign it wouldn’t end well. 

The other team scored one final touchdown in the last three minutes of the game, the crowd’s cheers and protests mixing as the opposing team’s points shot up by six, leaving them victorious by one single point and Clay upset, pent up rage and bitterness stuck inside his body with nowhere to go now that the game was over and balls couldn’t be thrown. He stayed arguing with the coach for longer than he should have, even though he simply refused to budge. You’d managed to come down from the bleachers just in time to see him hold back a curse and speedwalk towards the lockers, following close behind, not even daring to call out his name.

“Damnit!” he shouted again, sitting down on the bench, running both of his hands through his hair fervently, huffing out large exhales every time they moved back and forth. The rest of his gear was still on despite coming here specifically to change - his jersey was still draped over his large shoulder pads and chest, one glove on and the other chucked at the wall as well as the towel, shorts and knee pads in place, too. You carefully reached out to place a warm hand on his shoulder, at least giving him some type of assurance, hoping it would calm the fire that burnt in him, mighty and frantic, at least a little. 

It seems to do nothing, though, and the fire in him just keeps growing taller and stronger, flames licking farther up his throat, seconds away from escaping, burning him to ashes.

They do exactly that - they engulf his entire body, and for the split second that his gaze catches yours, you can see his eyes glint with flames, before he stands up so quickly it makes you dizzy, and presses his lips to yours hungrily. His fire engulfed you, spreading through you like an infectious disease, warmness swarming you from head to toe as he pulled you closer to him by the waist, leaving fiery fingerprints everywhere his hands touched you like hot coal.

He grunted into your kiss as he walked forward, backing you into the wall. The kiss was so unruly, so much more dizzying than any of the delicate ones you’d share in your bedroom - it was forceful, daring, scratchy, and when both of his rough arms wrapped themselves around your waist and he murmured: “Jump.” into your mouth, you knew you weren’t leaving that room without bruises. 

Despite being aware of that, though, you couldn’t help but test his dominance, at least a little bit. Being bratty was second nature; after all, you were the air to his fire. When you blew strong enough, you could calm it down, but when you blew however you pleased, you’d ignite it more intensely than any gasoline ever could. And you couldn’t take the fire out this time, so you might as well fuel it to the best of your abilities. 

“I don’t want to. And take off the uniform, you’re not gonna fuck me with those shoulder pads on.” 

He pulled away, staying close enough to your face so you could feel every riled exhale, enough so you could see his jaw clench and green eyes boring into yours so madly that you almost cowered under his gaze - however, you persisted. There was really no reason to answer like that, and both of you knew it, but you wanted to toy with him, have him earn your submission, no matter if he’s pissed out of his mind or not. In hindsight, that may have not been a good idea, and you realised that the longer he said nothing and stared at you in pure anger, but there’s no going back now, is there?

“I’ll fuck you however I want.” Clay muttered through gritted teeth. “And you’ll like it no matter what.”

With that, his arms were back around your hips, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist when he pushed you to lean against the wall. His lips were glued back onto yours in no time, your hand automatically darting to bury itself in his hair and pull, his fingers on your hips so tight they’d surely leave red marks. His lips left yours and you almost whined but held back when they moved to your neck, barely wasting any time before biting down on it, earning a gasp from you that you foolishly hoped he didn’t hear despite knowing there’s no way he missed it. He sucked on it, hard, to the point that you knew there’s no way it could be any shade other than dark, dark purple in a couple days’ time. 

He set you down briefly, and you did your best to try and hide how impatient and upset you were getting, but he grabbed the hem of his jersey and pulled it up, tossing it to the side before getting rid of the shoulder pads as well, your eyes swerving over his sweaty, naked chest as he silently raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to do the same. You did nothing except lift your gaze back to Clay’s and stare at him with no emotion whatsoever.

“Take it off.” He commanded, gaze switching between your chest and eyes, waiting for you impatiently. You exhaled through your nose, just short of a chuckle.

“Do it yourself.” You shot back, seeing him cock his head to the side in an attempt to compose himself and flush down the anger, despite knowing it won’t work. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He scowled, hands immediately grabbing at your shirt and pulling it off, fingers quick on your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra. 

“And yet you still wanna fuck me like a dog in heat.” You retorted when the clasp loosened and he pulled the fabric down your arms, pressing another hungry kiss to your lips while he rolled one of your nipples through his fingers.

“You think you’ll still be talking to me like this when you’re begging me to cum and I say no?” Clay whispers in your ear right before his mouth moves down to circle his tongue around your other nipple, and neither of you fail to notice the goosebumps that cover your whole body. You don’t even get to manage a word out, syllables falling back into your throat when you swallow upon feeling his hands sneak themselves under your skirt, gripping your thighs. 

“With how she’s talking, I’m sure my little brat isn’t wet right now. Right?” you feel your heart speed up when his hand moves a little further to the right and runs his fingers over your damp panties, brushing over your opening, fingers barely ghosting your clit. His pointer finger catches onto the fabric and pushes the underwear aside, leaving space for his middle finger to feel the juices that pour out of you, his touch feeling incredibly cold against your heat, feeling the tips of his fingers coat themselves in you before pulling away. His eyes meet yours paired with a smug smirk that you’ll never get to erase out of your memory.

“Oops.” he grins. “Seems like I was wrong.”

And then, when you least expect it, his fingers shove themselves in you, eliciting a muffled whimper, legs stumbling backwards to lean on the wall again when they start pumping in and out, lewd noises deafening you as you feel drops of wetness slipping down your thighs. He still persistently works his fingers inside your underwear, thumb sneaking inside too to rub at your clit, and that’s when he pushes a moan out of you, a sign of defeat - music to his ears. You can’t help it, can’t help any of it when it feels so good, when every time his wet finger brushes against your clit it sends a jolt through your whole body, your own hands twitching at the movement. 

Your whole body sets aflame, head blazing, sweat escaping through strands of your hair the longer he keeps going, fingers stuffed in you, thrusting in and out like it’s his last, pushing you towards your orgasm more and more. Sure enough, your stomach starts twisting and your abdomen coils, something inside you pushing you off the walls as you arch more and more and grind into his unrelenting fingers. 

“Cl-Clay… fuck, I’m-!” just as the words pass your lips, his fingers pull out, and the pleasure is entirely gone, ripped away from your hands as you stare up at him, feeling betrayed. Your hands instinctively move to your heat, as if of their own free will, but he grabs at your wrist before they make it to their destination.

“Don’t you dare. You come when I say so. I think I’ve made that very fucking clear, haven’t I?” Both of you know he’s stripped you of your brattiness when you say nothing, just swallow to mend your dry throat and quietly nod - you hate it, he loves it.

Clay pulls his shorts and underwear down his legs, and that’s when you realise you’re finally getting what you’ve been waiting for, so you hook your fingers around the waistband and pull your panties down, stepping out of them when you notice his cock, finally free and painfully throbbing as he strokes himself a few times. His eyes catch sight of the way you practically drool watching him, and he does nothing but scoff before your eyes meet.

“Get on the bench. All fours.” He commands and you comply, climbing onto one of them, arms and legs trembling where you place them.

“Watch your balance. I won’t be slow.” Clay says, guiding his cock into you, slowly pushing the tip inside as you hold your breath, waiting for him to just get on with it, already plenty stretched from the way his fingers fucked you open just seconds before.

“Won’t you now?” You murmur in irritation, words escaping you before you can even rationalise the fact that they won’t do you any good right now. “If you can’t play good, at least try to fuck me good.” 

He stopped in his tracks and you froze, only realising that you may have crossed the line after the words were already long out of your mouth, and you opened it to apologise, but didn’t even get to inhale properly when he suddenly buried himself in you to the hilt, almost tearing you apart when his hips collide with yours and you let out a pained yelp, his cock stretching you out ten times more than his fingers had.

You felt his whole hand wrap itself around your throat before he pulled you up by it, pressing his lips close to your ear so you could hear every last breath of his.

“You know I play as good as I fuck - and best believe, I’ll fuck that brat out of you.” Clay growled into your ear before pushing you back down, not even giving you time to grip the bench before pulling out and thrusting back in with a low groan, setting a fast pace from the start.

You bit down on your lip with more and more force with every thrust - he filled you to the hilt every time, and you were sure you were drawing blood by now, a slight metallic taste coating your tongue from how hard you were holding back your moans. You were absolutely not gonna let him fuck the brat out of you.

He kept pumping into you wildly, pace brutal and unforgiving, and it took everything in you to be as quiet as possible, but then you felt a cold finger carefully rub at your sensitive clit, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore, a loud moan getting pushed out of your throat.

“Fuck! Clay…” you whimpered, trying to stabilise yourself on your shaky arms but barely succeeding because the more he pumped inside of you, the more it felt like he was forcing every thought in your brain out, replacing it with only him and his name. The hand gripping your hips left them, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling it whenever he thrusted back in, making you hiss out in a sick mix of pleasure and pain.

“F-Fuck, I…” your throat ran dry from how fast and ragged your breathing stayed - it felt like he was going faster and faster every second.

“This good enough for you, princess?” he exaggerated, mocking you, a little out of breath himself as he pushed farther and farther, thumb never leaving your clit. You swallowed, not able to give him a proper response besides dumbed down words and broken syllables. He angled himself a little different with the next thrust, which made him dive into a spot he hadn’t touched before, making you see stars as you let out a huge gasp, grabbing at his arm that pulled on your hair in a blind attempt to ground yourself.

“R-Right there… fuck, please don’t-don’t stop!” you cried out, a new wave of heat flooding your entire body as he kept hitting the same spot over and over again, making you blind, white imprinted behind your eyelids. Your brain, along with any rational thoughts turned off completely, leaving you with nothing but moans and gasps of his name and how scarily good his cock felt in you.

You felt your climax creeping up on you, slowly but surely, the heat from every part of your body accumulating in the pit of your stomach, feeling the knot ready to come undone any second now. You clenched around him painfully, unable to help the spasms, seconds away from orgasm to the point you could practically taste it. It seemed like Clay could taste it, too, because he slowed down, thrusting into you lazily, like he hadn’t fucked your brains out a moment ago.

“Say sorry.” he said, voice as stable and confident as ever, unwavering compared to your shaky, barely still there one. 

“Wh-what?” It took the words a second to make their way from your ears to your brain, hazy mind clouded with nothing but him, unable to process what he’s even saying when he’s buried so deep in you.

“I said, say sorry.” he bumped into your sweet spot once again, leaving you mewling and your eyes closing on their own.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” you stuttered, trying to piece your thoughts together while you could.

“Sorry for what?” he asked. “Sorry for the things you said, or sorry because you know I won’t let you come?” 

“I’m-I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t-… I promise I didn’t mean it… Please, let me come, baby…” you whimpered out, grabbing at his arm again, trying to gain the little bit of sympathy you hoped he still had left.

“You’ll have to beg a little harder for me to even think about it, princess.” he chuckled, like the whole thing was damn hilarious, working his fingers on your clit again as your breathing stammered and you fought your best to get some words out.

“God, baby, please, you-you know I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry, so sorry…” you breathed out with another tired gulp. “You-...I-... please, baby, you can’t do this, I’m sorry, okay?”

“I can do whatever I fucking want to and I have some reason for it. What’s stopping me from using you like my own little fuckdoll right now and leaving you here with nothing except my own cum dripping out of you? What’s stopping me?” Clay snapped, pulling you by the hair again. You gulped again, feeling actually nervous this time.

“I… Please, baby, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said, please, can you just-” 

He interrupted you mid sentence with such a rough thrust that you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, his fingers back on your clit, feeling like you’re getting lifted up to the skies themselves once again. He managed to find the same angle, hitting the spot that made you feel hell and heaven all at once, pleasure prickling at every part of your body as you loudly moaned, putting no effort into concealing it or keeping silent anymore.

You felt the knot in your stomach once again, quicker than ever, slowly unraveling itself and your cries turned into ramblings, begging him to let you come.

“Pl-please, can I please… Fuck! Please, can I- I’m so close, shit, baby, can I please-” you stuttered, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes as you could almost touch your climax.

“Fuck, baby. Come for me.” 

As soon as the words escaped his lips, you felt the knot finally untie itself and you let out a guttural moan, not caring who would hear or not - the pleasure was sickeningly sweet, almost making you ill, knocking you to your elbows as you couldn’t see, hear, feel nothing except the wave of pleasure washing over you repeatedly, beads of sweat running down your body.

The clenching of your heat against him while you climaxed drove Clay to the brink of insanity, coming himself before he could even realise it, filling you up to the brim with a few final thrusts. He stayed inside you for a few seconds while you were catching your breath, watching you uncontrollably spasm around him as you came down from the high, clenching around him every so often, all your senses overstimulated.

When your breathing evened out, he finally pulled out, grabbing the box of tissues from his locker as he slowly started to clean you up, wiping over your sensitive parts, holding you up lightly by the stomach so you wouldn’t fall whenever he touched one of the tender parts. You huffed out a large exhale.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Clay. Remind me to never provoke you after a game again, what the fuck.” you said, voice still shaky, and you heard him cackle behind you.

“I’ll probably be mad for the rest of the day anyways, but whatever.”

“You played good, by the way. Really good. I just wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, watching him stand up and look at you with a knowing smile, before pressing a light peck against your lips. 

“Yeah, I figured.”

[mrs-march-ahs]

Hi! I have a request~ The Evans reactions to losing in any sort of game. Can be board games or video games 😅

The Evans Losing At Games

Headcannons for all, imagines for some!

Cute idea, thank you! I didn’t write much for Jimmy, I’m sorry Jimmy I love you<3

Enjoy:)

Tate

-Clearly a teenage boy who lets emotions build up a lot -Definitely cheats if he’s had enough -If he keeps losing in the same part of the video game and rage quits, it takes him forever to get back into the game - “Ohhhh… I forgot that’s where I let off… fuck it” (quits) -Much better and calmer at playing cards, and generally prefers games were the two of you can talk and he doesn’t have to focus too much

--

You laid on your bed, scrolling aimlessly through social media, and occasionally glancing at Tate playing a video game he hasn’t played in a while. When you started talking about games, and you told him you had it, he nostalgically reminisced how much he used to play it when he was alive, so you set it up for him. Every few minutes, when a red screen would pop up, Tate would sigh, and with every passing death, his sighs got louder and angrier.

After only maybe half an hour of playing, Tate clearly couldn’t take it anymore, and threw the control towards the floor, before stomping over to shut the console and TV off. The sound made you flinch, and you had never seen Tate angry before. Nor his body language nor face showed his emotions, just his actions, and when he flopped by your side, he looked fine. If somebody had come in right now, they would just see two teenagers laying next to each other.

“Uhhh… you okay?”, you ask, before rolling over to face him. You poke at his chubby cheek as he stares up at the ceiling and tease him. “Sore loser”.

“Shut up, it’s your fault. You reminded me why I wasn’t allowed to play this game for very long”.

“Wanna play something else? Together? We could play Dragon Ball Z?”, you ask quietly, before going back to your childish sing-song teasing. “Be nice, and I’ll even let you win a few times!”

Tate looks over at you and huffs, before sitting up and getting the controllers, “Good thing you’re used to begging me for mercy”

Kit

-Least sore loser out of them all -Always up for a rematch -He’s pleasant even when he does win - “Want a rematch sugar? So you can have another shot at beating me?” - “Ah you were close, you’re getting good” - “You’re a good rival” - “If I lose, you can drag me to that Rom Com you wanted to see” - “If I win, we make more babies” -Pretends to be competitive when he’s playing with the kids - “I would say Team Girls vs Team Boys… but that’s not fair, the two of you don’t even stand a chance, right Tommy?” -If one of the kids beat him, he’d act super dramatically to give them as much satisfaction of winning -Laser tag is 34 years before Kit’s time, but if he played something like that, he’d try to let the kids win

--

You ran around the garden and chased a giggling Julia. Because of current financial issues, the power was out, but not wanting to worry the children to much, and not wanting them to ask too many questions, you and Kit decided to make the most of the sun and tire them out before it got dark. Kit, being the big kid he is, suggested playing a tag-like game Thomas invented, where you each get three pebbles each, and try to get each other out by throwing them. Gently. Unless you were throwing them at Kit.

Julia started slowing down when she reached the corner of the house, hoping to hide from you, but you were right behind her, making her turn around and burst out in giggles. When the 5-year-old laughed, the only thing you could see was the missing tooth she donated to the tooth fairy last night. Once you circled all around the house, you come back in view of the garden, and see Julia hiding behind Kit.

“That’s cheating!”, he exclaims, trying to run away from her and toss a pebble in her direction, only for her to do it faster. The second Julia’s tiny rock hits Kit’s tummy and bounced, he put his hands over his stomach and held it like a gun wound. He dropped to the floor dramatically, leaving the two little kids to die of laughter, and you walk over to him, Kit peeping open one eye slightly to see if you were watching him, and then stuck his tongue out to play dead. You picked up a stick from the floor and poked at his chest, making Kit chuckle but quickly hide it.

“Is it dead?”, you ask.

Thomas leans in closer to look at his dad on the floor, before Kit opens his eyes and pulls Tommy to the floor with him, rolling over to be on top of him.

“I win!”, Kit announces, before kissing his son on the cheek.

Franken Kyle

-He doesn’t particularly play complicated games, but he isn’t too patient and gets frustrated with himself pretty easily -If on one of his educational games, he messes something up too many times in a row, he’ll shut off the game and throw the tablet on the bed -He’ll avoid even looking at it -If he loses a tickle fight he’ll sit and whine, straddle you and then tickle you until you beg him to stop -Whines even if he loses at rock paper scissors -He likes colouring and drawing, and because it’s good for his motor skills, the two of you made a really simple game together -You drew out a long snake shape on a big piece of paper and drew lines in between for the spaces -Kyle carefully coloured them in with pencil and with a marker you wrote occasional things like ‘Go back two spaces’ or ‘Go forward three spaces’ -Sweet little Ky would roll the dice, and take his time, pushing his little figurine, which was something like a pencil sharpener or a bottle cap, and counted out the spaces -Got super excited if he won, but wouldn’t mind losing -He would insist the two of you keep playing, and you’re only allowed to stop and go to bed if you end on him winning -Sometimes he would try to let you win so that you could keep playing -Whine and pout if you had to stop playing, and how are you meant to say no to him? -You would have to promise you’ll play tomorrow -You’d be able to slowly make more and more complicated games, until eventually he’d be able to play things like checkers or Ludo

Jimmy

-Lowkey a sore loser -If there were loads of different people playing, he would be a lot more friendly -If he lost, he would still be super annoyed, but just wouldn’t show it -But if it was the two of you, he’d be super competitive -The type of person to flip the board game if he was losing -But he’d apologise straight away and pout if you didn’t want to play with him again - “C’mon let’s play again, I’ll be nice this time” - “Loser gets spanked” -Loves playing games like beer pong

James

-Unpleasant loser but also not a pleasant winner -Bitter compliments if you win at cards - “Well done darling, who would have thought with your high school education you were such a poker master” -Only willing to play the same 5 card games, because if you teach him a new board game he is not familiar with and he loses, he’ll claim it’s only because he’s new to the game -Absolutely infuriated if he loses at Monopoly, since he built a hotel after all -Don’t even bother trying to teach him how to play a video game -And of course - “Only amateurs keep score”

--

“What are you doing, dear?”, James said, fascinated at your little character wandering around a shop, on the screen in front of both of you.

“I’m trying to buy this plant, but I don’t have enough money, I want to see if I can sell anything I have”, you explain, pointing at your backpack filled with items that you can exchange for spare coins.

“Nonsense, darling, why don’t you simply stab the storekeeper and steal what you desire?”

“Because this is Animal Crossing, James, there isn’t a stab button”

Kai

-Kai likes playing video games or board games with literally anybody apart from you -He likes playing with Ozzy because he’s a kid so most of the time Kai can beat him easily -Definitely not the type of person to let the kid win, even if Ozzy is sobbing and Ally asks him to let Ozzy win once in a while - “Winning fairly will feel so much better for him” - “He won’t appreciate success if he doesn’t first taste failure” -Sometimes instead of story time with his troops he’ll play some board games -At first, everybody will keep letting Kai win out of fear -But eventually someone will win, and everybody else will be fearful for them, scared Kai will be angry - “Finally somebody capable, somebody strong, not scared to show their true capabilities” -But if you ask him to play a game with you, he probably won’t -If you eventually beg enough that he will agree to play a game with you, he’ll tell you he’s only playing one -If you win, he’ll be like, “Okay, are you happy now?” - “Finally it’s over” - “I let you win, are you happy?” -But if he wins, he’ll try to get you to play a few more games - “Are you giving up already?” - “Don’t be a sore loser, rise up to the challenge” - “I assumed you wanted to win, not just to play”

- (Kai loses) “See… you have to give a humiliated man a chance to redeem himself in his own ey-”

[flowercrown-bard]

I saw @little-piece-of-tamlin‘s a tiny stupid geraskier doodle which I love with all my heart bc it’s so cute and got inspired to write a little something. I hope that’s ok

fandom: the witcher

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Modern Au

Word count: 2k

“It’ll rain today,“ Vesemir had said, “You better take a raincoat.”

Geralt should have known better than to ignore his advice. But in his defence, the sky had been completely clear when he had left the house with Ciri to take her to her friend Dara’s house.

The whole way there, she had chattered excitedly, tugging on his hand to get him to walk faster. The only time she had stopped, had been when they had come across a busker standing at the corner of a street.

Suddenly, she hadn’t been that worried about hurrying anymore and she had refused to leave until they had listened to at least five songs.

“You have to give him money, dad!” she demanded and pointed at the empty guitar case that was propped open in front of the busker.

Geralt made a grimace. He didn’t have his wallet with him – why would he, when he was just supposed to walk Ciri over to her friend and go home straight away again – but there was no doubt Ciri would argue with he told her so. And he supposed, he should probably be a good role model to her by paying the street artist, even though Geralt couldn’t help but think that his too bright smile and too happy songs were obnoxious.

The sooner he gave him some money, the sooner, he would get Ciri to continue on their way. So Geralt rummaged through his pockets, thankfully coming up with some spare change that he had forgotten was even in there and tossed it to the busker.

The pathetically few coins he had tossed were the only ones in the case. The sight almost made Geralt feel bad for the busker.

The busker’s singing didn’t stop, but his face brightened and his impossibly blue eyes lit up when he nodded to Geralt in thanks.

Geralt’s mouth went dry and he was glad that Ciri was still holding his hand, for suddenly, he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

He turned away briskly.

“Come on, Ciri, we should get going.” He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Dara’s probably waiting already.”

She pouted, but nodded. Before she turned away, she waved at the busker, who gave her a brilliant smile.

Geralt would have forgotten all about the busker, if it hadn’t started raining just as they got to Dara’s house. What started off as a light drizzle quickly turned into a downpour.

Geralt cursed silently. He didn’t even have his phone with him to call one of his brothers to come pick him up. At least Ciri had gotten inside before the worst of the rain had started.

Geralt threw a glare at the sky that had somehow turned from being bright blue to being a dark grey.

A low thunder rumbled and Geralt hurried along to get back home as quickly as he could, even though he was already soaked to the bone.

His face was set in a grim frown the entire time and he kept his eyes on the pavement before him, watching as the puddles soaked his boots.

“Hey!”

The shout made Geralt’s head snap up. His eyebrows rose in surprise without his permission, when he saw the person that had called out to him and that was now waving at him enthusiastically.

It was the busker from before, sitting beneath one of those umbrellas some cafés put up when the sun was shining too brightly.

Maybe they had forgotten to close it when the rain had started – or they didn’t care. Geralt had no idea how those things worked.

His steps faltered. Quickly, he threw a glance over his shoulder to see if the busker was waving to someone else, but Geralt was the only one on this street. At least the only one still out and about in the rain. Everyone else had fled into cafés or stores to hide from the rain.

Geralt swallowed, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, unsure what to do. He really, truly didn’t want to sit with this stranger who was still waving at him like an idiot.

But then again, the busker was sitting where he was dry while Geralt was standing in the rain unable to decide what to do, so really, who was the real idiot here?

Though inwardly he let out a sigh, knowing he was going to regret this, he walked over to the busker, sitting down on the chair opposite of him.

“Hello there, stranger. I’m Jaskier. You saw me earlier? I was the one playing the guitar.” He gestured to the case he had stowed away beneath the table to keep it safe from the rain. “I was hoping to see you again to thank you properly.” Jaskier’s smile grew so big, Geralt was wondering how it didn’t hurt his cheeks. “Guess I got really lucky that it started to rain, huh?”

Geralt scowled. “If my daughter hadn’t wanted to listen to you play for so long I would have gotten home before it started to rain.”

The busker tilted his head to the side. “Oh, if you enjoyed my singing that much, I should probably play some more, hm? As an apology for letting you get caught in the rain.”

“You really don’t –“ Geralt began, but Jaskier had already bent down to retrieve his guitar.

For a brief second, Geralt was tempted to just get up and leave again. A single glance at the rain made him reconsider and slump back in his chair.

When Jaskier began playing, Geralt had to admit that it didn’t sound terrible. If he had been in a better mood, he would have even enjoyed it, but as it was, he wasn’t very inclined to think any positive thoughts about Jaskier. It didn’t matter that his eyes crinkled at the side when he smiled while singing or that the mob of brown hair that had been so fluffy before was no plastered to his forehead in a way that made Geralt want to reach out and push it out of his eyes.

Abruptly, Geralt turned away. The avoidance of eye contact didn’t last very long. As soon as Jaskier reached the chorus of the song, Geralt’s eyes snapped back up to him.

“Why does it always rain on me?” Geralt asked incredulously. “Seriously?”

Jaskier’s tongue peeked through his lips as he winked at Geralt. “It’s fitting, isn’t it?”

Geralt grunted.

Jaskier’s fingers stilled on his guitar and he let out an overly dramatic sigh. “You’re a tougher audience than your daughter.” His eyes lit up with mischief. “But I’m sure I can find some song that you like.”

“I doubt it.”

“It that a challenge?”

Geralt didn’t answer, but he doubted Jaskier needed one anyway. The busker began to play again, giving Geralt a cheeky wink and his smile grew wider with every song that deepened Geralt’s frown.

It’s raining men.

Fool in the rain.

Raindrops keep falling on my head.

Umbrella.

Blame it on the rain.

After the third song, Geralt was ready to bang his head on the table and block his ears with his hands.

Mercifully, he was saved, when a waitress came by.

“Excuse me,” she said, looking sorry. “The other patrons have complained about your playing. And we’re not really allowed to let anyone sit here unless they buy at least one drink. So I need you to put that guitar away and buy something if you want to stay here.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s face fell and the fingers that had just been plucking the strings rubbed together in a gesture that should have probably been soothing for himself. “Of course. Sorry.”

Carefully, he put his guitar away and grabbed the menu lying on the table. Geralt should have been relieved that the playing had stopped, but the sight of Jaskier, dejected and still dripping from the rain made something in his chest twist. He pressed his lips together.

“Sorry,” he said as well and pushed his chair back, making it scratch against the ground. His skin felt icy just thinking about going back out in the rain and a small part of him felt bad leaving Jaskier alone like this. Granted, Geralt hadn’t been thinking nice things about his singing either, but it was one thing to sit there suffering in silence and another thing entirely, asking a waitress to kick Jaskier out if he didn’t stop playing.

An alarmed expression flickered over Jaskier’s face and he grabbed Geralt’s sleeve when he made to turn away.

“Where are you going?” he asked. “Didn’t you hear the thunder before? You can’t just go out there.”

Geralt shrugged, telling himself the concern of this stranger didn’t feel nice.

“Don’t have any money.”

Something shifted in Jaskier’s expression. A look of utter disbelieve and almost awe crossed his face, before he plastered on a smile that definitely didn’t made Geralt’s chest clench.

“Don’t worry, my friend,” Jaskier said lightly, tugging at his arm until he sat back down again. Geralt could have easily freed himself, but for some reason he didn’t understand, he did as Jaskier bid him. “I’ll pay for your coffee.”

Geralt stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

Jaskier shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Technically, I’m just paying you back. You did give me your money before.”

Geralt blinked. “That wasn’t nearly enough to pay for coffee.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jaskier lowered his eyes and drummed a quick little rhythm on the table. “It was nice. I could really need someone being nice to me today.”

Jaskier gave him a small smile, which Geralt returned without thinking about it. It wasn’t often that people looked at him and didn’t make assumptions. They certainly didn’t call him nice. The only people who really stuck around were his brothers and Vesemir. He was trying to do good by Ciri, but he could still hear the other parents whisper whenever he brought her to preschool. They judged him for being a single dad, for having scars that surely meant that his life was too rough to have a child in it, for having eyes that freaked out some of the kids.

Jaskier hadn’t just started smiling at him when Ciri had urged him to give him some change. His smile hadn’t faltered, despite Geralt scowling at him, despite him not responding to anything he said.

Yet, he had called Geralt over to save him from the rain. And now, even after having spent enough time with him that he must have realised that Geralt wasn’t good company, he still offered to buy him coffee as if it was nothing.

Something warm and fuzzy spread through his chest that almost chased away the cold clinging to his skin from the rain.

Geralt’s mouth was dry and he felt awkward saying it, but just this once, he took a chance. “I could pay for your coffee next time.”

“Next time?” Jaskier perked up, eyes wide.

Geralt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If you wanted to.”

“I’d love to.” Jaskier narrowed his eyes playfully and leaned forward on his elbows. “But maybe I should first know some things about the handsome man who just invited me out for coffee first.”

Geralt grunted, the corners of his lips twitching up. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, your name for starters,” Jaskier laughed. “And your favourite song. As much fun as it was trying to find out how long it would take you to tell me to stop, I would really like to know what to play to maybe make you smile again.”

Geralt blinked. “Geralt,” he said dumbly. A grin spread across his face. “And I would definitely smile if you played Here Comes the Sun when it stops to rain just to piss of those people in there some more.”

Jaskier let out a startled laugh that made Geralt’s stomach flip. It wasn’t often that people laughed at his jokes. His humour was too dry or just plainly not funny enough. But somehow, seeing Jaskier throw his head back laughing at something that wasn’t even that funny, Geralt wanted to make him laugh like that again.

When the rain finally stopped, Jaskier didn’t play Here Comes the Sun, but neither of them even noticed. They were too preoccupied talking about everything that came to mind. What started out as polite smalltalk had quickly turned more personal and Geralt was surprised to find out that he really wanted to get to know Jaskier better.

They talked about Jaskier’s struggle with not feeling good enough when it came to his music and Geralt’s struggles with being a single dad. It was surprisingly easy to open up to Jaskier, who didn’t laugh at him for his doubts, but told him how from the little he had seen of Ciri, she had seemed happy with Geralt.

When they finally left the café again and parted ways, Geralt promised to come by with Ciri again soon and listen to him play again.

--

A year later, they went to the very same café again, this time hand in hand. Almost as per tradition, Jaskier started signing again, though this time he hadn’t taken his guitar with him, far too eager to hold Geralt’s hand the whole time through, much to Geralt’s amusement, which only grew, when he recongnised the song.

You are my Sunshine.

Geralt knew Jaskier mainly did this to tease Geralt – teasing him with his songs was a habit Jaskier would probably never lose and secretly, Geralt loved it – but just as every other time, Geralt didn’t tell Jaskier to stop singing in irritation. No, by now, he had a far better way to get Jaskier to stop.

He leaned forward and seized Jaskier’s lips in a kiss, effectively swallowing the song.

“You were right,” Geralt said, when they pulled away again.

“I usually am.” Jaskier smirked and pressed another quick kiss against Geralt’s lips. “But pray tell, what exactly have I been right about?”

Geralt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “We really did get lucky by getting caught in the rain.”

[vemuabhi]

Disney Romance - Cinderella’s Bird - 200 followers special

@littlesniggy​ said : Hey you! Now it's my turn to request something! Kida sad you don't write for Akainu but I can understand 😂 He's an asshole! If it hasn't been requested yet, would you do Mulan/Cinderella with Kid x female reader? I'm super excited which one you choose/ if you choose it at all! Thank you!

A/N : Omg thankyou so much for sending an ask @littlesniggy​ san!!! I am so excited to answer this for you! I loved writing for the grumpy boy. This was really a beautiful experience writing this for Eustass KIdd. Please don’t have high expectations for this.

Warning : A big fic written by me. But has a happy ending.

Word count : 2.7K

I hope you like it!

XOXOXOXO

“Why the hell should I get married now?”, you complained to your Robin who always was beside you, she was a maid but you always admired her and always treated her like a friend not like a maid.

Robin sighed and patted your head as she took the place beside you on the bed. “I should have the choice when I want to get married. Not some jerk who is randomly selected by my parents”, you scoffed and plopped back on the soft burgundy-coloured bedsheets. Robin gave you a sad smile and said, “That’s true. I too believe that marriage should be for Love”

Being a princess isn’t easy. Every girl dream to be a princess but its not as beautiful like the fairy tales are. You are a live example for that. Not once you could decide for yourself. Even the big puffy yellow gown you were wearing was not of your choice. The corset was killing you inside. You wanted to rip it off and throw it out of your window. With language classes, you always had dance classes, tea sessions, music classes. Everything that was chosen by your parents, was practically forced upon you.

‘What kind of lunatic needs to learn how to drink tea?’, you cursed the tea sessions when ever you were being called to it. All you did was brew tea and drink during the whole time. The music classes were always a hectic. You wanted to learn an instrument but when you were given another. Your wishes were denied because who cares about your dreams? In the beginning even dance classes were troublesome, But you tried to put up with all those demands of your parents. In return they are now trying to get you married as soon as possible.

“I’m done with this Robin”, you spoke and got up. “I’ll do whatever I want”, your voice was stern and Robin was curious on what you were about to do.

“Cancel todays classes, I’ll be going to visit the town to relieve my stress”, you announced briskly walking towards the closet.

“Are you sure your highness? But how can you go alone? You must have someone wit-”

“Robin! Its fine. I can take care of myself”, you didn’t let her finish her sentence. Throwing your corset on the floor and dressing up like a maid didn’t take long enough. You made your way towards the secret passage in the palace and exited the palace. Even though Robin was worried, she had to stay back in the castle to make sure no one notices your leaving.

The town and the market were as lively as ever and you walked around the place. As you kept walking, you saw a couple who looked very much in love. You felt a bit envious of them. At least the commoners had the freedom to do what they like. As you were walking aimlessly in the market, you bumped into a tall buff guy.

“Oh I’m sorry”, after apologising you thought of leaving but it didn’t go well.

“Hey! How can you go away like that?” the man started to fight with you. As you felt the very heavy scent of alcohol hit your nostrils, you knew that this man was heavily drunk.

“What? I apologised so what’s your problem now?” you questioned as your dominant hand slowly reached for the sword hidden in your skirt.

“You bitch how dare you speak back to me?” he raised his hand to land a hit on you but just when you were about to take out the sword, his had was stopped mid-air. You then saw a man who had red hair. As soon as the jerk saw that man, it seemed like his senses came back to him again.

“Asshole! Didn’t I tell you this is my shop and never make a scene in front of it”, the man shouted at the rogue twisting his arm. He winced in pain as he apologised and ran away.

The red haired man went into a shop, what seemed like a shop of vegetables and fruits. ‘Was he a farmer?’, you thought and followed him. Looking inside, there were so many fresh vegetables and also fruits in the shop.

“What do you want?”, a sharp voice questioned making you turn towards the owner of the voice. It was the same red head from before.

“Uh, I… I’m here to buy”, you said and looked around again trying to seem convincing. He huffed and sat on a chair fiddling with something which seemed like a machine. Your interest perked up and you asked him, “What are you making?”, moving closer to take a peek at the machine.

“Why should I tell you?”, he spat but as he looked at your face, he noticed that your eyes were sparkling with curiosity and interest.

“Tsk”, he clicked his tongue and explained about the way he wanted to make a machine bird as you listened to him carefully. He kept telling you how helpful machines would be if used in the correct way.

“But, don’t you think, this material you are using to make this bird is kinda… cheap and looks like its gonna break soon?”, you questioned for which he frowned and replied, “Don’t you think I already know that? I… I just don’t have the money”, mumbling the last part.

“Oh! I got an idea. Listen to me, uhh..”

“Eustass Kidd”

“So, Kidd As this bird is still in the beginning process, I’ll bring you the material tomorrow. Till then don’t touch this. Okay now I need to leave. I’ll be taking this basket here”, you said and took a basket of strawberries and tossed a coin to him.

“HEY WAIT!! YOU DIDN’T EVE- and she’s gone”, still with that grumpy look Kidd took his screw driver to continue working on the bird. But he remembered you telling him to wait till tomorrow. So he sat back in his chair and exhaled.

“Its not because she told me to wait. I… I want to continue this tomorrow”, he huffed and folded his hands. Then he remembered about the coin you threw.

He opened his palm and his eyes widened as he looked at the coin. It was a gold coin. A freaking gold coin for a basket of strawberries.

“No way. What the heck is she thinking?”, he carefully placed it back in the locker and thought to give it back to you tomorrow.

At the castle you came back and continued with your remaining day. You should leave tomorrow. So you need to make plans.

“Robin I need you to do something for me”, you explained how you needed high quality metal and also the timings of classes to be shifted. So, it did happen and you had continuous morning classes without breaks but, you were a free after them and it made you to take material Kidd wanted to make the bird. Changing out from your attire of a princess you went to the same shop as yesterday. There you found the man coming towards you as if he was waiting for you all along.

“I got the material you need”, you said as you placed it beside his table where the bird was supposed to be made.

“Were you waiting for me? Sorry I was late”, you said and he instantly replied, “Wha- Who was waiting for you?”

“Ah ok”, you muttered as you saw him instantly looking and taking the material with a faint pink shade on his cheeks. He looked just like a child exited to play with his toys.

“Where the hell did you even get these? These are clearly expensive?”, his sudden questions made your thoughts to break.

“Ah… I got it from the Kings dumpster”, you made the blankest expression trying to hide your lie.

“Kings Dumpster?! The King threw away this metal when it’s like this?”, he asked as his brows raised when you just nodded.

“Tsk… and here I am, trying to get re-rid of rust from metal. Using them for the 100th time”, he huffed.

You both sat opposite to each other and he worked on the bird as you learned about the work he was doing. Helping him with giving the appropriate tool at times, you had more fun than you ever had in your life. He tried to return the gold coin but you didn’t take it and made a deal to take vegetables or fruits in return, for which he agreed. You both fist bumped as an agreement of the deal.

From that day, you made your way out of the castle to meet Kidd. Surprisingly, he always waited for you to come to work on the bird. Meanwhile he somewhere started to call you little lady and you actually liked it. It became a routine for you to take a basket of veggies or fruits every time you left the shop. Sometimes he’d you’d tag along with him to his small farm. He was totally proud of his farm. His eyes showed it. Where you knew you never felt that feeling that he was feeling. Never once in your life you felt you were proud of something you did. He was living a complete different life than yours. You found your heart skip a beat every time Kidd smiled. You liked him.

Kidd was unique. He was terrible in showing his emotions but he was a good person. Every time you left the castle for him, seemed right. You actually felt happy seeing him and working with him. But of course, this happiness didn’t last long. Your parents wanted you to get married soon and told you to pick a groom for yourself in the ball that is going to be hosted next week. Bloody next week.

Because of the ball, you had to take even more classes for walking like a princess and also more fashionistas coming to find the perfect gown for you. Due to those, you couldn’t meet Kidd for 4 days.

Meanwhile, Kidd waited for you staring at the front door of his shop. Whenever the door opened, he met with disappointment because it wasn’t you. He couldn’t even continue on his bird. He had doubts on his feelings for you but now, it was clear for him that he liked you. Your thoughts haunted him. His heart earned for you. Only for you to return.

After a long hard day of work, you sneaked out of the castle in the evening and went to Kidd’s shop. You opened the door and your eyes met with Kidds. You both stared at eachother for a few seconds before he spoke.

“Come in”, you obliged and walked into the shop towards the desk where you both made bird. It was just like it was 3 days ago. “You didn’t continue to make the bird?”, you inquired as he just turned away and shook his head as he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Kidd, its late and I have to leave soon so listen to me”, his vision shifted to you as he gulped.

“But you just came, why do you have to leave?” he asked as he approached you and placed his hands on your shoulder.

“Aww did you miss me?” you tried to tease him but this time, he neither denied nor looked away from you blushing. He stayed silent for a while before he said, “I did”

You didn’t even expect that from Kidd. His hands travelled down from your shoulders to your hands. “I did miss you. So much that I couldn’t even touch that bird”, He looked serious. He placed one hand on your chin and looked into your eyes.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think your thoughts would haunt me that much when you didn’t come. I… I didn’t know when, why or how. But I know that, I have feelings for you little lady”, his voice trembled as he spoke the last bit.

“Kidd are you serious?” you asked placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch and nodded. His eyes looked desperate for your answer. Pulling him towards you, you connected your lips with his. The kiss was gentle and with so much of emotion.

Both pulled away to look into each other’s eyes. “I have feelings for you too Kidd”, you smiled and Kidd’s face lit up making you smile in return. He leaned and touched your forehead with yours and exhaled with relief. “Can I request you something Kidd?”, you asked and he nodded.

“Can you come to the castle this coming Wednesday?”

“To the castle? Why?”

“There is a ball going to be held and I want you to come”, you said and stepped back, away from his touch. “Now it’s my turn to wait for you, I should tell you something. So please come”, the last part sounded more like a pleading and with that you left the shop.

Kidd didn’t knew why you had to leave so early. His heart was beating so fast. Confused whether whatever happened now was real or not. He sat on his chair unable to remove your pleading face from earlier. Kidd looked at the bird which was unfinished and took the screw driver to continue working on it. Its been a while since he alone worked on something. It wasn’t a new feeling for him but still, he preferred to talk and have you around while he made it.

The day of the ball arrived. You wore your outfit and looked out the window at the crowd of people came to the castle. Men and women from so many places arrived there. With the help of Robin you made sure that when Kidd comes, he wouldn’t be stopped by any of the guards. The time was almost running out. The first dance was supposed to be started soon but you couldn’t find Kidd anywhere.

Your parents were urging you to find a partner and start the first dance. ‘So Kidd isn’t coming’, you thought and tilted your head up to prevent the tears falling out from your eyes. You pinched your skin trying to distract the pain away. Stepping on the ball room in your burgundy coloured dress, you walked with a straight face. Then suddenly your eyes fell on a person, who was trying to not be visible in the crowd but, his hair was definitely saying otherwise. You swiftly made your way towards that person.

People cleared way for you and it didn’t take long for you to meet the person with the red hair. He was wearing golden coloured suit and his hair was combed back neatly. He looked different but it was him. His cheeks turned the same colour of his hair. You chuckled and took his hand, pulling him towards the middle of the ball room. You placed your hands on his shoulder and pulled him closer to you. His hand trembled before he placed it on your waist. With that the music played and you both danced, with other people also dancing.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“How could I? You are a princess and why didn’t you tell me you were a princess?”

“Would you even talk to me like you did if you knew I were a princess?”

“That’s… true but… now here I am, with the princess Y/N in my arms”, he said pulling you closer. You giggled and pushed back the strand of hair which was on his forehead. You both smiled at each other and continued dancing. After the first dance, he pulled you away from the ball room and you followed. He walked towards the garden where no one was and took out something from under the bench.

“What did you bring?”, you asked. He turned and showed it to you. Your eyes went wide looking at the bird that he brought.

“You made her at last!” you exclaimed as he looked down shyly. “Yeah kind of made it. I wanted to show it to you today”

“I love it so much”, you said as you took it in your hands. It was your memory. The time you spent making it with Kidd. It was precious to you two.

“Keep it. It’s yours now”, he said as he smiled.

“Really?! I will take care of it so well”, you replied and jumped on him making him catch you quickly. You looked at him and leaned in for kissing him again. Now, it was passionate. No one to intrude as you were alone. Smiling you pulled back and leaned your forehead with his.

You now found a grumpy man, who would understand you and would really be the reason for you to smile.

Made with picrew

XOXOXOXO

I hope you liked it. Thankyou for reading.

A comment, Like/Vote, Reblog/Share would be appreciated!!

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[mister-supernova]

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

~

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3

[pennyserenade]

tags: nameless female oc x javier peña, nameless female oc x javier pena, angst. rating: t ( teen ) warnings: pregnancy, mentions of birth.  word count: 2.5k+ summary: something beautiful happens in colombia   notes: i recommend listening to this while you read because this is the vibe of the chapter, i think. you’re more than welcome to listen to the english version too, but i just think the spanish one hits a little different. oh and maybe this  original gif by: @pedrc-pascal 

como flores que florecen 

scene eleven, scenes from a marriage

As the feeling of joy expands in chest and meets his eyes, Javi comes to the conclusion that it has been a very long time since he has felt happy in a momental way. It wasn’t something he was very good at measuring in the first place, after all, his happiness. Somewhere along the way though, Javier had begun to mistake being alive and feeling alive as the same thing--two sides of the same coin he tossed every day--but now as he looks at this kid of his, he gets it. He understands. It’s different, feels different.

He peels back the blanket she’s wrapped the baby in to see him better, and he squirms in her arms, displeased. He begins to whimper and she rocks him gently, smiling up at Javier. He smiles back at her, and he sees it in her eyes, how happy she is too. It’s been a long time for them both, he knows, and he wants to apologize because he knows all of it has to do with him. He has been unmistakably stupid, on top of cruel and selfish, and she’s had to endure it all-- unflinching--for the most part. She’ll never know how sorry he is for that. 

Javi holds his arms together and she hands the baby to him carefully. He lets out a soft chuckle when the baby squirms against him, in disbelief that this could be his, and he watches as his little mouth opens to let out a silent cry. Javi shushes him and mimics the same rocking motion his wife had done just moments before, and miraculously, it works. The baby stops looking so thoroughly displeased and rests against him, undisturbed once more. 

After many months of startling himself to death over the notion of being someone’s father, Javi had started to try his best to block it out completely. He had thought that if didn’t think about it, if he pushed it aside, then he could prolong it a little longer somehow. Sometimes he did a good job at it, forgetting, but he could never block it out for long, and not at all after she had confronted him about it. It was all he had thought about for the past few months. 

He was right about one thing: Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. But it wasn’t like he had thought; Javi doesn’t want to let him go. He’s so little and he has his nose, and he feels so, so light. It still feels surreal, sure, as if this is a dream, but the very fact that it feels like a dream and not the nightmare is beyond what Javi had imagined completely.  

He wishes he could’ve been there when she had him, but he’d been in Medellín and she hadn’t told him until after, when the baby was already about four hours old. She knew Javi couldn’t have made it, and she didn’t want to make him feel as though he should try, so she did it alone, as she did most things. She doesn’t hold it against him either--doesn’t even act like it hurts her. She just smiles and smiles and tells him how perfect the baby is. Doesn’t even tell him how much it had hurt, or what it felt like, or anything other than he’s everything she’s ever wanted. When Javi’s eyes meet hers, he knows that she’s being completely sincere too. He’s never loved her so much, and he’s never felt so completely unworthy of her. 

She stands close to him as he holds the baby, watchful that he props his neck up and that nothing is wrong with him, and Javi can’t help but smile at her overprotectiveness already. 

“I’m not going to drop him,” he assures, laughing lightly. “He’s okay, baby.”

“He’s so little,” she says. Her eyebrows furrow with concern, but she takes a step back from him nevertheless. “I’m sorry, it’s just been him and me for the past couple of days and I’m already so scared.”

Javi nods, and tries his best not to feel bad about that. “I know.” 

She grimaces. “Oh, Jav, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He puts on a warm smile. “Let’s forget about that, okay?” he whispers. “I know you didn’t mean it like that and I’m not going to be sad about it. I just don’t want...” he searches for words. “I just don’t want right now to go away so fast.”

She understands. “Me tampoco.” 

She returns his smile back, and they stare at each other for a moment, taking this in. 

Between them blooms once more what had brought them together in the first place: a sense of hope, and a place of respite. It’s been so long--too long--since either of them had that much, and they acknowledge this silently. 

Years have aged them; he’s got wrinkles forming around his eyes and sometimes he looks as though the youthful person in him has left completely. She’s lost some of that twinkle in her eyes, too, and subtle as they are, there’s wrinkles that form between her brows. They’ve become different people in this country. They wear time on them psychically and they show it emotionally. In this country they had started young and alone, and they will leave it together, with a new person. Even if it is all for shit, and everything he did here counts for nothing, Javier will always have this: the family he had created in this country. The person he had found here. 

They continue to smile at each other.

“We’re going to be okay,” she tells him, just to say it because she feels she must. 

Javi nods his head in agreement, before looking away and back at the baby in his arms. “Yeah, we will be,” he says, hushed. He takes him in again, and smiles softly as he yawns. 

Javi’s father had once told him that he’d never understand how much he cared about him until he had a kid of his own. He had told that to him many moons ago, before Javi had even left to train for the DEA, when it was just all pipe dreams and big words. As much as Javi doesn’t like to admit his father is right even now, holding this little boy--Julián, his name is, after an uncle his wife loved--Javi cannot deny it. Javi would do anything to keep him safe. Anything. He’d move mountains for this little boy, and he already can’t wait to see the person he will become, even though he’s just meet him as he is, four days old. All he can see is the future, which is so much more than what he can say about the past few months, when every moment felt borrowed and all he could do was stay in the present because thinking about the future made him so damn depressed. 

It’s still going to be hard, especially when he’s going to have to leave them, but at least this is something to keep him going. He’s got himself into quite the mess at work, way over his head than he ever intended to be and without the tools to correct such faulty mistakes, but here, it’s okay, just like she had assured. It’s all okay. He’ll make sure of it, make sure that nothing will ever harm this child and his wife, because they are all that matter. 

It’s taken a little over thirteen years and a plethora of errors, but as Javi stands in the living room looking at this child, he’s finally come to understand it. He just wishes he had understood it sooner, but he knows now, and all he can do is be better. 

Despite not really wanting to, Javi lays the baby down in the bassinet to his right, mindful of his neck as she had warned. Javi lingers, ensuring Julián won’t fuss or wake in his new position, and his wife goes to insist that she’ll hold him if he doesn’t want to. Javi cuts her off though, meeting her halfway. 

He cups her face in her hands and presses his lips onto hers, kissing her so softly, so gently, that every inch of her melts into him without an ounce of resistance. She gives him everything and he gives it back, just like before. It’s balanced. It’s honest. 

He rests his forehead on hers, not taking his hands away from her face just yet. She puts her own on top of his, securing them. They breathe each other in, with no rush to move on from the moment they’re sharing. They remain quiet, just being, just taking it slow. Slow, slow, slow, so unlike the fast pace of their lives usually. Colombia seems to still itself outside, as if it knows what’s happening and wants them to have this moment too. Everything is so goddamn perfect. 

“Thank you,” he tells her. “For everything. For him and marrying me and staying by me even when I don’t deserve it. I would be very little without you.” 

“That’s not true,” she whispers. “I know we’ve struggled magnificently the past year, but I have never stopped thinking of you as a good man, Jav. When I first had him, and I looked down at him, all I could think was: ‘I’m so happy this little thing is half of Javier.’ All I have ever wanted for you is to get how good I think you are, and now we have this perfect little boy who already looks so much like you, and for all the love you give him, I hope you can give yourself some of it too. I know he will inherit so much of your good—or at least I can only hope.”

He kisses her again. “Te amo,” he tells her against her lips. “I’m sorry I’ve made this past year so hard for us. For you.”

She pats his hand. “It’s going to get better,” she says, voice certain. “We’ve made it through so much already, and we’re almost there, mi amor. Just a little longer, I can feel it.” 

He hopes she’s right. He doesn’t know what life will look like after Colombia—can’t even really comprehend that—but this has made him more comfortable with the idea of something more. 

“What do you want to do, after?” he asks. “When this is all over, I’ll take you wherever.” 

She loosens herself from his embrace, taking his hands off her face, and instead wrapping herself around his torso. She rests her chin against his chest. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Home for a little, I suppose. Yours and then mine in California, and after, maybe México? You said your dad lives close, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, on the border. All that separates him from it is some water.”

“Yeah, then Mexico. I never got to go because my mom couldn’t and I want to meet more of my family, and yours too, if they’re down there.” 

He smiles. “I’d like that. I haven’t been since I was a kid.”

“Maybe we’ll come back here someday too, if you think you can stomach it.” 

“This place is home,” he tells her, “But I think moving away from it and resituating for a long time will do me good. Maybe we can come back when we’re old, and retire in the jungles.” 

“The jungles?” she raises an eyebrow, grinning. “I’ve always been more of a hill person myself. Do you think that Pablo's prison will still be vacant by then? From what I saw it looked nice.” 

He chuckles. “I think so. I know he’ll never be there again, at least, that’s for sure. We’ll have to remodel, though. Lots of bullet holes and narco memorabilia right now—or at least, that’s how I remember it.”

She curls her nose. “Maybe we can build something of our own by then.” 

He nods his head. “Maybe.” 

Behind him on the wall, the phone begins to ring. He looks over his shoulder and then back at her. 

“Expecting someone to call?” he asks her. She shakes her head no. “Should I answer it?” 

“Yeah,” she says. “It could be your dad or something.” 

Javi lets out a sigh. He lets go of her and picks the phone off the hook, turning around to face her as he answers with an “Hello?”

A smile tugs at the ends of his lips as he listens. He mouths to her, “It’s your mother” before he begins to speak to her in Spanish. He tells her how beautiful the baby is, and that yes, they’ll send pictures and yes, they got her package with all the baby clothes. He tells her something about her daughter still being beautiful and she can’t help but grin to herself as she peeks into the bassinet Julián rests in now. He finishes up by asking if she wants to speak to her, and then he stands by the phone, extending it in her direction. 

She climbs up the stairs and takes it from him, and they switch positions, with him by the bassinet and her turned to watch him. He’s saying something to him, the baby, but she can’t make it out as her mom speaks. 

She turns back around towards the wall and finishes up the conversation, promising all Javi had before telling her mother that she loves her. When she finishes, she sits the phone back on the hook again and she turns to watch Javi once more. 

Without saying anything, she disappears into the other room. 

Javi is too enchanted to really notice her short absence and is only drawn back down to earth when he hears the stutter of a camera lens in front of him. He smiles at her. 

“Your mom is inspiring for you, isn't she?” he jokes. 

She takes the camera away from her face. “Pick him up again,” she instructs. She ignores his comment verbally, but there’s a hint of a grin reserved for his comment pressed onto her lips, and that’s good enough for him. 

He takes him out of the bassinet again but this time, Javi finds he’s a whole let less forgiving. Julián lets him hear for the first time one of those healthy cries he had heard in the background when she had called him from the hospital. The shutter clicks and he looks up, eyebrows furrowed. 

“That’s going to be an awful photo,” he tells her. “He’s crying.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she tells him, “That’s a photo with two of my favorite people in the entire world.” She takes the baby from Javi’s arms and hands him the camera.“Nothing about that photo could ever be awful to me.” 

Nothing about this moment will ever be ugly to me, she thinks. Nothing. Even the imperfect moment when he began to cry and Javi had looked down at him, concerned, would be perfect when reflected on, she was sure. She would always remember this day fondly. 

Maybe this isn’t the marriage she had envisioned for herself thirteen years ago when they had first gotten married, but it’s the one she wants now. Time has aged them and changed so much about the trajectory of their lives, but preserved is the love she feels for Javi, and now for their child.  

This is scene eleven from a marriage, one that has a little more hope than it did before.

JAVI :  @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @disgruntledspacedad , @melaniermblt , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @hb8301 , @penajavier , @darnitdraco , @over300books , @dobbyjen , @paperbag33 , @rebel-fanfare​

EVERYTHING : @astroboots​ , @frannyzooey​ , @wyn-n-tonic​ , @rosiefridayrogersunday​ , @melaniermblt​ , @theorganasolo​​ , @amneris21​ , @honestly-shite​ , @over300books​ , @elegantduckturtle​, @pbeatriz​ 

SCENES : @gravegoth​​ , @sarahjkl82-blog​​ , @cmonkeepmoving​​

[scripturiends]

stole all the air from my atmosphere

Read on ao3

Summary: Han Joonhwi thinks maybe pulling all-nighters wasn’t so bad after all, even when you’ve practically finished studying ages ago.

Rating: T

Word count: 1,577

Notes: Inspired by a poem by Timothy Joshua. And totally optional, but I recommend listening to this song while reading.

~

Hey, all. Thanks for waiting patiently for an update. This fic is in response specifically to a request I received here. I know a lot of people have been requesting for a sequel to ‘gave me no compasses, gave me no signs’ as well; truthfully, I’m not sure if this fic is in the same ‘universe’ as that one — all I can definitively say is that this still follows the canon. So, I’ll leave it up to you to decide if it’s the same timeline or not. I have a lot of fic ideas lined up for an “official” sequel, anyway. ;) 

The Solhwi brain rot just gets more potent as we anticipate the new episodes — I absolutely love receiving plot ideas from all of you, and while it’s a challenge to interpret it in my own way, I still hope that it’s on par with your expectations. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments. You can send me a message anytime too! I know I say this often, but your continued support really really keeps me motivated to write. Would love to make new friends as well, if we can help it.

Okay, the note is getting too long now. As usual, the fic is under the cut, and all mistakes in this fic are mine. Enjoy! 

~

There was that moment, when you stole all the air from my atmosphere; when my heart pounded within the might of all the planets.

It’s the third time Han Joonhwi has bit his tongue in the past ten minutes, attempting to stifle his oncoming yawns, trying not to cause any disturbance. He fights his drowsiness as best as he can, hoping that his companion wouldn’t notice — and yet, as his luck would have it, the moment he couldn’t hold it in any longer just so happened to be the exact same moment the person next to him lifted her nose from the book it was buried in.

Without looking at him, she flips another page. Tone commanding but masked with concern, Kang Sol mumbles, “Just go to bed already.”

So much for being lowkey, he thought. Joonhwi stretches himself awake, thinking of the perfect response: casual enough to make it look like he doesn’t care, but caring enough that she wouldn’t push him away. “Not until you’re done,” he finalizes.

Sol scoffs, tossing her pen lightly on the table. “You don’t even take this class.” 

Well, of course he knew that. But Kang Sol A — truthfully, he prefers to omit the distinction: no matter how many Kang Sols there are in Korea, or hell, even in the entire world, he’s only got eyes for one — is not getting anything out of him. If getting Joonhwi to admit his true feelings was her goal, she’s far from reaching it.

“You know why I’m here,” he sidetracked. 

Unconvinced, she turns to him with a provoking look, and Joonhwi already knows she’s about to go on a long-winded rant. “Yeah, yeah, I do,” she started. “You want to hang out with me but instead of just asking like a normal person, you make up this lame excuse about how I need to study even though I was already planning on doing that anyway. You practically finished studying ages ago so you just sitting there doing nothing is really rubbing salt in my wounds.” 

He watches her with both his hands on his head, suppressing a smile. Finding an opening, Sol pushes his chest lightly. “I don’t need you here. Get out.” 

She said it so weakly that he knows there’s no way she could have meant it. Making sure she doesn’t lose her balance, Joonhwi quickly takes hold of her wrists and gently places them back on the table. “You talk too much,” he breathed. 

Sol purses her lips in annoyance and propped her chin up with her hand. “Yeah, well, that’s why you’re dating me,” she pouted.

If she keeps putting him in his place like this, he might actually have to walk out, but not for the reasons she’d expect him to, like his supposed exhaustion. Joonhwi knows Sol doesn’t do this on purpose, but she naturally has a way of making him flustered, and he’s trying really hard not to lose his cool right now. 

She stomps her feet lightly on the ground, groaning. “This is too difficult,” she complains, leaning her head on Joonhwi’s shoulder. 

Really, really hard.

It’s funny how Sol can say something one minute and then completely contradict it by the next. She says she doesn’t need him there, but clings onto him like her life depended on it. Not that Joonhwi was complaining — but he does want to have a little fun with her. He wanted to stir her a bit with something like, I thought you didn’t need me here? He knows she hates being called out for snappy remarks that she only ever means as a joke.

But a quick glance at Sol, in her favorite pajamas and one of Joonhwi’s sweaters, on the very rare occasions she has her hair down, bangs falling on her eyes, Joonhwi decided against it. Her vulnerability shouldn’t be treated with ridicule; it should be met with an equal amount of softness. After all, no one else but Joonhwi gets to see Sol like this — he finds that as a privilege which shouldn’t be taken for granted. 

“Okay.” He gives in. “Let me have a look.”

Joonhwi holds his palm out to ask for the reading material, which, as usual, Sol rejects. “Didn’t we already talk about this?”

He feigns innocence. “Talk about what?”

Her head feels heavy on his shoulder. “I need to be able to stand on my own if I’m going to survive law school hell,” she reminds him. “You can’t keep coming to my rescue for every little inconvenience.” 

“So this is just a minor setback?” Joonhwi teases. He couldn’t help it. 

“No,” Sol cries, “it’s a major obstacle.” 

She snuggles up against him, and Joonhwi could literally feel the heat rising to his face. Nonetheless, he lightly holds the side of her head for support and asks, “So what? Are you just going to give up?” 

“Of course not,” she mumbles, her breath hot on his neck. Joonhwi knows the law well, but he feels like this should be illegal. 

“But sometimes I wish I was just naturally smart like you.”

He lets out a soft sigh. Like many other things, the pair have talked about this before, and Joonhwi has never denied that he and many others have had a significant head start over Sol. But this is what he’d always tell her: 

“If everyone in this school had half as much of your wit, every crime in the world would have been solved by now.” 

To which she’d grimace and respond with, “Yeah, tell that to the F I got in Criminal Code.” 

But tonight was different. Sol wasn’t coming from a place of defeat, she was saying this out of frustration. She was probably thinking that maybe, had her life choices been different, she would have had it easier. That maybe, had she been as lucky in wealth and opportunities as everyone else, she wouldn’t need to work twice as hard as them. So that maybe, like Joonhwi, she could just comfortably sit in silence with him and enjoy his company. 

Right now, he’s treading murky waters and he’s afraid that one wrong move could give Sol the wrong idea. Joonhwi has never been the type to open up to people, but she never made it difficult for him to do so. With Sol, honesty was just the default. Telling her things he’d never entrust with anyone else came as easy as breathing. 

He takes her hand and gingerly intertwines it with his own. “I didn’t have it easy at the beginning either,” he admits. “Law school wasn’t even a part of my plan, and yet here I am.” 

This is at least one thing he knows Sol could empathize with. After being betrayed by the last person he’d ever expect to hurt him, Joonhwi’s life took a turn. To an extent, he was motivated by rage. But mostly, he was just trying to find a way to turn that pain into something useful, trying to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. And call him foolish for being too hopeful or optimistic, but he believes this is something he and Sol can do for each other. They’re two sides of the same coin: the law owes Sol an apology, and Joonhwi is coming to terms with the fact that he might never get one, ultimately being robbed of the opportunity after his uncle’s untimely death. 

Joonhwi knows his words bear significant weight to Sol. There’s a lot of things he wants to say to her but right now he just settles with, “I think you’re smart enough. If anything, you need to stop going overboard. What if you get sick again?”

She lifts her head and stares at him with doe eyes.

“That’s why I’m here.” He raises their interlocked fingers to show to her. “Why do you think I’m holding your hand? It’s so I can pull you out from under when you’re drowning in all of this.”

Sol slowly breaks out into an endearing smile, trying to repress her laughter but failing. “Heol. Han Joonhwi, since when were you so sentimental?”

Joonhwi doesn’t know where this newfound bravery came from, but he kisses Sol on the forehead lightly. “Since you needed it.” 

Sol blinks, her expression unreadable, and Joonhwi fears that he may have done the wrong thing. But much to his disbelief, she instead grabs him by the collar and closes the gap between her lips and his. They crash against one another in perfect rhythm, and Joonhwi mentally slaps himself for not doing this sooner. Never has he felt more at peace than at this very moment, which was ironic considering he was supposed to be the one doing the comforting. And yet, the lines blur when he realizes that even when their methods are vastly different, they’re at their best when they’re in tune with each other’s needs.

And right now, this is what he needs the most.

Much to Joonhwi’s dismay, Sol finally pulls away; they’re both out of breath. 

Still in a daze, he musters up the courage to ask such a stupid question. In fact, he’s surprised he could even speak at all. “What was that for?” 

“You’re not the only sentimental one here. If you’re going to kiss me, do it right.” 

That was when I knew, you were worlds more, than just a first kiss.

~

Send me your thoughts here!

[bluehairedtracii]

Hooks and Coins|| Harry Hook x Reader Soulmate AU!

Requested: by @lemonypink

Warnings: Harry being cute 

Pairings: Harry Hook x Swann-Turner! Reader

Author's note: Oh my gosh this took so long! I’m literally so sorry! My motivation for writing has been a little iffy lately. Buuutt I’ve also been binging Criminal Minds soo it kinda gave me a creative push to start writing again. (Spencer Reid fics comin in the future) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this fic as I get back into writing again. 

P.S. Melody is Melody from the second little mermaid movie, and I know she's kinda not mentioned again in the fic but just know that this is y/n’s best friend and that’s who she is lmao.  I also thought the Coin would fit well in here because of the movies just sshhhh. Enjoy!!!!

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

"it's soon! I swear!" The night of your 16th birthday, the day your life would change.

The day you get your soulmate tattoo.

"Are you sure??" Melody whines. "I'm positive! Look, it's not even 12:00 on the dot yet- ONE MORE MINUTE!" You look back from the phone on your lap to your right wrist.

"It's twellveeee." Melody cooed.

"Please please please..." You muttered still hopeful.

Then it hit, well stung. "Ow, ow, I feel it!"

"Let me see!" Melody basically climbed on top of you and saw it before you could. She gasped "oh my gosh y/n..." "What? What is it?" You tried to pull back your wrist to see, but Melody kept it steady.

"Y/n, as your best friend, I have to warn you as to what you're about to see...."

"C'mon Mells, it can be that bad." You sighed and tried to pull away from her. 

"You have to PROMISE Me that you won't freak out?"

Annoyed, you sighed and smiled "I promise." "Okay.." she released your hand. You rubbed your wrist and looked at the small tattoo, "A Hook?" "Not just any hook... Penny told me about this." "This is the same hook as the famous Captain Hook himself! It must be his son!"

"Captain? So my soulmate is a Pirate? Like Dad and Mom?" Melody nods almost worried.

"Awesome."

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

"It's late Harry, your sister is gonna kill us if we get caught and wake your dad." Gill rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the galley of the ship.

"I know, but this is where the best lighting is...in a few minutes, I'll get me soulmate...well uh, tattoo I mean." He whispered and unlocked the door, cursing at the squeaky floors.

Harry turned on the lamp nestled on his father's desk. The room lit up illuminating the maps that his father and oldest sister had drawn up while sailing the open seas. He dreamed of nothing more than doing that, sailing and hailing a crew of his own, but for now, he follows Uma’s orders. 

“One more minute Harry.” Gill whispered looking at the tickless clock on the desk.

“Aye, ow! fff-!” Harry cupped his hand and flipped it to see his wrist, he bit back the pain as he saw the black ink form on his wrist. He’d been confused and tried to make it out as it formed. “Bloody hell, this sure is detailed in’it?” Gill loomed over Harry's shoulder, wondering what it was himself, Gill was sure he wasn't ready for his soulmate yet if he had to endure this much pain. 

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled as the pain stopped.

He opened his eyes to see the grim Aztec Coin staring back at him.

“Holy shi-” “Gil do you know what this means?!” “She’s spooky?” “No GIl, you git, She’s a pirate! and she’s a Turner...” He says in awe as he smiles down at his wrist.

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

A few months later both of you seemed to forget. The events of your daily lives getting in the way. You’re training to go off on a sailing trip with your dad for a few months, and Harry is… currently Helping Uma get revenge on Mal by kidnapping Ben. 

But.. you were unaware of this. Obviously. 

Lonnie and you were fencing/sword fighting in the school’s courtyard (for fun) when you saw the boys rushing into the limo. You both caught up to them and questioned them immediately. 

“What’s going on here Jay?” Lonnie snickered full well knowing what’s happening because she overheard it earlier passing their room. “We.. uh..” “we’re going with you..” Lonnie cut the pair off. And this is how you went to the Isle of the Lost for the first time. 

They had told you the plan but left out the part about who they were going to have to deal with if the plan went south. You were nowhere near nervous. All those times you’d trained with Lonnie and your parents at the shop basically were all for this moment. Your pirate self was ready. 

Mal handed over the wand and you cringed a bit. “She’s gonna know it's fake…” you turned to Lonnie and whispered. “Shh I know, get ready..”  you prepped your sword and placed one hand on your lapel while the other was free to toss the swords. 

That’s when everything went south. You and Lonnie sprung into action and helped the others. The sounds of metal clashing mixed with the creaking of the ship and the salty sea air made you happy, it filled you with adrenaline. It felt like you were at home.

2 people fighting you at once, then three, then none, one by one you tossed them overboard.

You were caught in the crossfire between Carlos and some other goons so you ducked under them and sprung onto your feet right into someone else's back. 

You both turned to each other, swords ready, you saw him and you felt that burning in your body. The one that your friends always said happened when you met your soulmate… “Ow!” “Oi!!” Harry lurched back and held his hand. And so did you. 

“You…” he pointed at you “are you…?” you held up your hand and showed your tattoo. He gasped and smiled “I knew I’d see you one day..”  you said in awe. You heard Uma yell for Harry and his smile faltered into a smirk.

“Sorry lass, no ‘ard feelings right?” “Obviously.” You struck your sword first and your swords clashed with each other. “I knew you were good Turner, but not this good.” he laughed as you both turned a corner of the ship. “Thanks! Maybe I can teach you sometime Hook, You seem a bit rusty!” “Oi! My ‘eart Lass.. that one hurt!” 

You snickered and he had caught you by a wood post “awe, our first dance is over now?” your eyes sparkled. He smirked ”Aye if this were different, i’d very much like to get to know you lassy…”  he got closer almost closing the gap in between you two. And his lips brushed yours before you heard Mal and Lonnie yell that it’s time to go. You smiled “sorry Luv, it’s time for me to go!” you kiss his cheek and push him away into a hole that’s in the ship. “Oi! That’s not fair!”

You were the last one to leave and thought of an idea, you caught up with them and helped Mal to kick off the ramp back to the car. “Find me!” You blew a kiss to Harry and smiled, and so did he. on the inside, of course, he had to be “mad” for Uma’s sake. But right now he was anything but. He just met his Soulmate and she was everything he dreamed of.

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

Almost a year had passed when you had first met Harry. And you constantly think about him every day and so does he. 

He sat at the bow of the ship looking out to the ocean thinking about you. It’s all that he’s been thinking about actually. He’s waiting for the day you can be with each other and in each other's arms. You literally took his breath away, because you kicked him, but he was entranced by your skills and beauty. He dreams about learning with you, meeting your folks, owning a ship, and most importantly.. Sailing away with you to see the world. He was stuck here. 

Though he didn't know that you had convinced Ben (it took a lot of convincing) to let Harry over onto the isle for a while. Your boating trip with your dad had gone so well that you also convinced your dad to let you go alone this time. Your parents knew how a forbidden love felt more than anyone else. The love between the two of them, a humble blacksmith that was the son of a pirate and the daughter of a wealthy governor who found that boy so long ago. They were never supposed to be together in society's standards, but their love was the strongest bond. They granted their blessing to you, they knew you'd be safe. You’re a strong pirate and they want to see you the happiest you can be.

You smiled and looked out the window of the limo as it crossed the bridge. Mal and Evie both came with you so they could help you find him and tell him the news. You guys slip onto the docks while Mal and Evie keep guard on the limo and watch you just in case you need back up. “Ursulas…” you smile and cross through the swinging doors, you found him and you felt the burning feeling in your body again. So did he. “OI!” he dropped the basket of chips he was holding and growled at the mess he made. He was fuming until he locked eyes with you. “My princess has come back to me?” he smiled and walked towards you completely forgetting about the fries as he kicked them to the side. “Hey Hook.” you smiled and felt his hand on your face but he backed away. “Woah Turner you ain't gonna kick me ‘gain right?” “no.” you laughed and you both hugged each other. 

He took the two of you outside “what are ye doin here luv? I mean, you don’ ‘ave to make any excuses to see me, but you came all the way from the other side.” he laughed and pushed back a strand of stray hair behind your ear. You blushed and held one of his hands, but unknowingly played with one of the rings on said hand. He bit his lip smiling at your nervousness. “U-Uhm.” you were surprised by the nerves in your voice, you were never this nervous before. This boy is going to wreck you. “It took major convincing, but I finally convinced my family and Ben to let you come to Auradon with me for a three-month sailing trip…” you smiled and looked at him. His eyes lit up and he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. “Are ye serious?! Of course I'd go with you!”  “Great! We leave…” you check your watch on your left arm. “ In 30 minutes!” “Aye! I need to pack!”  you laughed.

 he backed you into the wall. You smirked, “oi, I've been trying to do this ever since the first time we met.” He closed the gap between you two and the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours brought you comfort and warmness. You kissed back and ran your fingers through his dark locks as he tightened his grip around your waist. You never wanted this to end. “25 minutes!” You heard the girls yell and you pulled away and laughed. “I've finally found my Turner..” “And I’ve finally found my Hook..”

[thebookreader12345]

Identity Loss - Chapter Three

Chapter One     Chapter Two

It had been about a week since my apparent accident, and my memories still hadn’t come back, no matter how much I tried to get them to resurface. Will was trying to help me out too. Whenever he wasn’t working, he was doing things that we used to love, or ordering foods I used to enjoy. The hope was that maybe something would click a memory, but so far, nothing had worked. 

I groaned as the alarm clock next to be beeped for the hundredth time, and reached over to turn it off for good. I had been trying to get some more sleep, but every ten minutes, the alarm would blare in my ear, jolting me out of my sleep. Since  that obviously wasn’t working out, I guess it was time for me to get up. I sat up and stretched my arms above my head, enjoying the feeling of stretching my stiff limbs. I then pushed the blanket off of my body and climbed out of the bed, slipping on the slippers that were right next to me. Padding out to the living room, a yawn escaped my lips, and just as it did, the front door to the apartment opened, and Will stepped inside.

“Hey,” Will greeted and set him stuff down before scanning me up and down. When he saw that I was still in my pajamas, he frowned. “Did you just wake up?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?” I question and run a hand through my hair, which was probably a mess at the moment, but I didn’t care.

“Y/N, it’s time for lunch,” Will noted.

“I reckon I didn’t use to sleep in this late,” I guess and make my way to the kitchen to make some coffee.

“No. You were more of an early bird. Are those my slippers?” Will quizzed as he glanced down at my feet. I looked down at the house shoes covering my feet, and a slight blush tinted my cheeks as I noticed that I was indeed wearing Will’s slippers.

“Oh. Uh, sorry,” I confess.

Will smiled. “No worries. You uh, you actually used to do that quite a lot.”

I stopped making coffee to turn and look at him. “What are you saying? Is this a repressed memory coming back or something?”

Will shrugged. “No idea. But it’s a start.”

“So, what are you doing back so early? You’re supposed to be at work,” I point out.

“Ms. Goodwin let me take a half day. I’ve got a bunch of plans for us,” Will told me. “We’re gonna head downtown to see some of your favorite spots and then we’re going to-”

I cut Will off as a bit of anger swelled up inside of me. “What’s the point, Will? Ordering all of my favorite food didn’t work, and neither did doing all of my favorite activities, so this probably won’t either. Lets just face it. I’m never going to get my memories back.” I walked over to the couch and took a seat, pulling my knees up to my chest. Seconds later, Will did the same. He sat down on the cushion next to me and placed a comforting hand on my knee.

“Look, I know it may seem like you’re never going to remember anything. But trust me when I say that you will get your memories back. It may be today or next month, but it will happen. I’ve seen plenty of patients have similar accidents, and they’ve all come back, so I have hope that you’ll do the same. I just, I need you to have hope too,” Will explained. 

I took a deep breath, and all at once, the anger seemed to leave my body. This situation felt very familiar; Will trying to calm me down just by using his words. The little moments like these made me feel connected to my past self, and in a way, they filled me with content.

“Okay,” I murmur. “What have you got planned for us today?”

...............................................

Stop One: Buckingham Fountain

I stared up at the fountain in front of me, contemplating why my former self liked to come here. The fountain was beautiful in a majestic kind of way, but the current me would never go out of my way to come here.

“What’s the point of this place?” I ask Will, who was standing beside me admiring the fountain.

“It’s a fountain,” Will stated as if it were obvious. “You make a wish and throw a coin into the water, hoping that it will come true.”

“And I used to believe in this?” I question.

“A little, yeah,” Will confessed. “We came here on our first date, and you threw a coin into the fountain, wishing that our relationship would keep growing and stay strong forever. And look where we are now. We’re supposed to be getting married in a few months.” Will then took a quarter out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Here. Make a wish. Maybe it’ll come true.”

I hesitantly took the coin from his hand, staring down at the dull metal disc in my palm. I closed my fingers around the quarter and shut my eyes, thinking about the wish I wanted to make. But it didn’t take me that long to come up with one. I wish I could remember my old life. And with that, I tossed the coin into the fountain, watching as it sank to the floor where it settled in with all of the other wishes.

Stop Two: The Bean

I’ll admit, the Bean was pretty cool. It was just a large sculpture of a bean, but the way it was covered in one big mirror was what made it special. I loved the way you could see Chicago’s many skyscrapers from the reflective sides of the figure, and I also enjoyed the way the light bounced off of the statue.

“Wow,” I breathe out. “This is amazing.”

“Yeah. The old you used to think so too. You always came here when you wanted to be alone. Whether it was because of a tough shift at work or because you needed to make a big decision, you’d be here,” Will told me.

“Why do I get the feeling I used to come here after we had a big fight?” I question and turn to face Will.

Will laughed softly. “Because you did. One day during shift, we had a heated argument over the course of treatment for a patient, and after work you came here. I gave you some alone time before I drove down here so we could talk things out. We eventually figured things out, but that was the moment I knew I never wanted to lose you.”

Stop Three: The Riverwalk

The Riverwalk was filled with families and tons of smiling faces. There were college kids sitting around studying, parents watching their children talk excitedly, and even couples strolling alongside the river. I glanced over at Will, who was walking next to me, and my eyes traveled down to his hand. All I could think about was what it would be like to hold his hand and lace our fingers together. My eyes also caught sight of the engagement ring sitting on my finger. I kept it on, hoping it would help me remember my past life, but it didn’t do much seeing as I still had no memories.

“It’s a shame I can’t remember any of these places,” I say. “It seems like we had some good memories in all of them.”

“One of the perks of living in Chicago; there’s always something to see or do,” Will noted. Again, my gaze shifted down to Will’s hand, and the desperation to take hold of it overpowered me, so I did it. I reached over and took his hand in mine, entwining our fingers. Will didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to in order for me to understand that he didn’t mind. He didn’t pull his hand away, and he gave my hand a small squeeze, so we kept our hands locked together as we walked.

Stop Four: Lakefront Trail

“Here we are. The last stop,” Will announced as he parked the car. I climbed out of the passenger seat and took in the lake in front of us. The trail in front of us wasn’t as crowded as the Riverwalk, but every few seconds, someone either jogged by, walked along, or rode past on a bicycle. From where we were on the trail, the Chicago skyline stood in the distance, it’s tall buildings jutting into the bright sky. That’s when I recognized where we were. This was the Lakefront Trail, the same place where the engagement photo back at the apartment was taken.

“You recognize this?” Will asked me.

I nodded. “Yeah, but not from a memory. This is where that engagement photo in the living room was taken.”

“You actually picked out the destination,” Will spoke. “I wanted to do it on the beach, but you convinced me that this was a better spot.” For a few moments, the two of us stared at the horizon in silence, admiring the view. Finally though, I spoke up.

“Can I ask you something?” I question.

“Sure,” Will replied. “What’s up?”

“What happens if I don’t get my memories back?” I quiz.

“Y/N,” Will started, only for me to interrupt him.

“I’m serious, Will. Be honest with me here,” I plead. “What’s gonna happen to my career if I can’t remember anything? What’s gonna happen to us?”

Will sighed and kept his gaze trained at the lake in front of us. “I uh, I don’t know. I would love for you to get your memories back so that things could go back to the way they were before. And if that doesn’t happen, I guess you’ll have to start all over again. You know, figure out what you want to do. I don’t want to say this, but if that means we have to split up because you don’t want to be with me anymore, then so be it. I’m not going to force you to stay with me, and I’m definitely not going to force you to go back to Med if you don’t want to.”

“It’s funny that you bring that up. I remember everything I learned in med school to be a doctor. I could diagnose a patient right now if I wanted to, and I guarantee you that my diagnosis would be spot on. I don’t know why I can remember all sorts of illnesses and diseases, but not remember my life the way it was before, and that annoys me. All I want is for things just to go back to normal,” I let out.

“Yeah. Me too,” Will murmured. For a few more minutes the two of us stayed and took in the view, but Will soon turned his eyes away from the setting sun. “You ready to head back to the apartment?”

“Actually, there’s one more thing I want to do,” I declare and lean up, pressing my lips to his. All day, the one thing I wanted more than anything was to kiss Will and relish the way his lips feel against my own. And now, here I was doing just that. I cupped Will’s cheeks in my hands as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to his chest. One moment, I couldn’t remember anything, and the next, a rush of memories flooded my brain.

I remember Will and I’s first date at Buckingham Fountain, and the kiss we shared when he dropped me back off at my apartment. I remember staring at the Bean, hoping that it would help me figure out how to go home and face Will after we had an argument. I remember the countless walks Will and I shared on the Riverwalk. I remember taking the engagement photo here on the Lakefront Trail. And there were many more memories popping up in my head as well. Natalie, Maggie, and I drinking wine at on the couch in Nat’s house. Me helping Connor diagnose a cardio patient whose symptoms didn’t seem to fit any illness. April and I chatting away at the nurses’ station about our love lives. Will proposing to me in the lobby of Chicago Med. And I remembered my accident, the day my life went to hell.

“Y/N? You okay?” Will asked when he noticed that I had pulled away from him.

“Will, I remember. I remember everything,” I state. Will grinned widely and picked me up, spinning me around. When he placed me back on the ground, he swooped in and kissed me again, this time more passionately.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Will mumbled and leaned his forehead against mine. “I told you this would work.”

“Oh shut up,” I joke. “Mind if we head back to the apartment now? I’m kind of tired after today. Getting all of my memories back really wore me out.”

“Yeah. Of course. Lets go. There are so many things I want to you with you right now, but I think I can manage to hold them off until later. Lets go,” Will said and laced his hand with mine before leading me back to his car.

The Next Day...

“Will, the cafeteria is that way,” I point out as Will led me down a hallway towards the ED. I hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning, so I was pretty hungry at the moment.

“I know, but there’s something I’ve got to show you first. Come on,” Will ordered lightly. I continued following Will, and he led me all the way to the residents’ lounge, inside of which were all of my friends and co-workers.

“Welcome back Y/N!” they all shouted as Will and I entered the room. 

I smiled at all of the people in front of me and turned to Will. “Did you do this?”

Will shook his head. “As much as I would love to take credit for all of this, it was Natalie and Maggie’s idea.”

“Well, I guess I should go and thank them. And say hello to everyone else,” I add. “But I will come find you later. I believe the day of my accident, we were interrupted just before we were about to do something. I’d very much love to continue that.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Now go and talk to everyone else. You’ve spent enough time with me,” Will exclaimed.

“Okay,” I mutter and lean up to place a quick peck on his lips. “I love you.”

Will grinned. “I love you too. Always have, always will.”

THE END

..........................................

And that’s the end of the story! I hope you all enjoyed it. I know I certainly did. Comment down below your favorite chapter out of the three, and also tell me your favorite part of the story. Thanks for reading!

_____________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @king-crockett​ @winterberryfox @anotherfan07 @i-like-sparkly-things

[strangeradventuresofp]

protect you (geralt x reader)

warnings : language !

requested by : @wellfuckmyexistence​ -  I know you are probs swamped with requests! But I would be hella interested in seeing you write some Geralt X Reader stuff! Maybe reader is also a Witcher? Maybe some cuddles? Maybe some angst? Some arguing??? Idk anything really tbh!

a/n : i tried to do all lol maybe this was too adventurous. i loved writing this! i had so much fun!! thank you so much, i hope you enjoy this<3333

“No, don’t you fucking dare ignore me!” You spat with clenched fists.

The feelings you felt at this moment couldn’t be determined. Your heart felt as if it were shattering in your chest, like fine crystal china breaking, tiny fragments remaining that were finer that dust. It felt like your heart had been punctured a million times over by thousands of tiny pins; it stings at first, but now it leaves you numb – not even remotely painful, just numb. Your entire body ached with such an overwhelming vigour. For the first time in your life you had felt exhausted. And it terrified you.

Being a witcher surely had it perks, enhanced agility, healing abilities, augmented strength. But it also came with a huge stigma, that was completely untrue. ‘Witchers can’t feel emotion’. Boy, if you had a coin for every time you had heard those words. It frustrated you beyond frustration. Sure, you were pretty much created to be soulless beasts, but that wasn’t the case. You were still a human, only with these superhuman abilities. You hated that you were looked down upon to be entirely emotionless. If anything, you thought that you felt emotions more. Especially the strong ones. Arousal, anger. Love. And that was exactly what had happened.

Geralt of Rivia, perhaps one of, if not the, most famous witchers about. He was easily distinguishable. His pale face and white hair made it obvious to tell that it was him. You had met him in an inn one night.

Apparently, you had caused a ruckus, which you didn’t. It was a perfectly normal reaction to a drunk stranger grabbing your arse. Needless to say, he was up against the wall with a knife against his neck within the same second. It gave you so much satisfaction to watch him squirm and hear him plead for his life, all the while hearing the others in the bar shouting foul things to you. You had heard worse, so you didn’t exactly care. That was when this huge man stood up from his solitary corner and made his way over to you. He leant into your ear, words rumbling from his chest.

“Let him go.” He commanded and you chuckled.

“And what if I don’t? You’re gonna stop me, are you?”

“Let him go.” He repeated, more demanding this time. Rolling your eyes, you forced your knife further against his throat before letting go. The man scampered off and you turned to face whoever the deep voice belonged to with a scowl.

When your eyes landed on him, you recognised him immediately, but you refused to acknowledge that you knew him. He looked confused, stepped back a little as if to get a better look of you.

“If you want to stare, why don’t we get a room?” You teased, a smirk pulling at your lips.

His face didn’t falter. “You’re a witcher.”

“Lucky guess. What do you want?” He looked at you, puzzled. “I doubt you came up to me to save me from a situation that I clearly wasn’t struggling in. So, I’ll ask you again. What do you want?”

“So hostile.” Geralt took a lock of your hair between his fingers before flicking it from your shoulder. A small smirk washed over his lips and you found yourself staring. It wasn’t long after that that you were pinned against the wall by his frame, his face in your neck and his fingers fumbling to get your clothes off of your body.

From that moment, you had travelled with him and Jaskier, the bard that named himself Geralt’s companion. It was nice. You enjoyed Geralt’s company, despite him being a complete brood most of the time. It was nice to have someone understand your struggles and how fucked up you were. You were both turned against your will. It felt good to have someone understand that. As for Jaskier, he was kind to you. You had told him many times that you liked his voice. He often invited you to sing with him, since you had admitted that you often sang to help yourself through witcher training. It led to him subtly changing the words to one of the songs he sang on your adventures; ‘Toss a coin to your witchers, O Valley of Plenty.’

You and Geralt had a very complicated relationship. There were feelings involved on your side and distant ones on his. He had shared your bed many nights, much to the complaint of Jaskier. You understood him and he understood you better than you knew yourselves. You loved him.

One night, after sharing your bed in an inn, he had disappeared into thin air. Neither you nor Jaskier had the slightest idea of where he went. A terrible feeling started to grow in your stomach the longer he did not return to you. Many nights you and Jaskier ate alone. You were not yourself. Jaskier noticed.

“Y/N—”

“I have this awful feeling, Jask, in my stomach. It feels like knots are being tied with my insides. I don’t know what it means; I have never felt it before.”

He let out a small laugh. “You’re worried for him.”

“I am not.” You urged with a scowl. But when you thought about it, the feeling began the morning you had woke up and not found him. You searched outside for Roach, but she was nowhere to be found either. It grew more every day that Geralt didn’t come back.

Now, he had returned, and you were angry. Angry was an understatement. It took everything in you not to bury your knife into his chest the moment he stepped through the inn door.

You slammed the door shut, enclosing the both of you inside the room that you had been living in for months on end. “Where did you go?”

“None of your business.”

“Where the hell did you go?” The poison in your voice would’ve made any other flinch. It pissed you off how Geralt didn’t seem to take you seriously when you were angry. He lay on the bed, just looking at you. Your eyebrows drew further together.

“I can’t believe I told you I loved you.” He avoided your gaze. And in that moment, suddenly everything made sense. The morning that you had awoken to find him missing, the night before you had tiredly let it slip that you loved him. “Is that why?

Did you even plan on coming back?” Quite quickly your eyes were pooling with tears, threatening to fall if he ignored you once more. The tremor in your voice was something that caught his attention and he sat up, looking at you with concerned eyes.

“It was a temporary trip. I came back.” Geralt showed no other indication of his feelings.

“I’m so stupid.” Your breathing was raggedy as you buried your head in your hands, begging for your tears to stay put.

“Witchers can’t feel.” A lie. Why was he trying to lie to you? He didn’t even know himself.

“Come on, Geralt. You and me both know that’s horseshit.” When he didn’t respond, you took the initiative and moved to the bedside table, snatching your knife from it and a small sack of money. Spinning around, you swung the door open, rushing down the inn stairs. You heard him call out your name, but you ignored him. As you tossed the money to the innkeeper, you opened the door that led you outside. Quickly, you mounted your horse, grabbing the reigns.

You felt a hand on your knee.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jask. I can’t stay here anymore, not with that brooding prick about. I’m sorry.”

“But Y/N—”

“I hope we meet again, Jask. You’re a good friend. One which I don’t deserve.” You gave him a half smile before riding off out of the village. Jaskier called your name with a frown as you set off.

~~~

You were a few days ride out of whatever village you were staying in before. It was dark. You unsure of what day it was exactly, and whether it was night or early morning. There was a fire to keep you warm and your cloak, but you used it as a pillow. You had tried the first night to sleep without something to support your head but woke up with a crick in your neck. Supposedly, spending months in an inn that had pillows had meant that you had built quite a tolerance to having one. In complete honest, you had no idea where you were. But you were away from Geralt of Rivia, and that was all that mattered. It was not easy to let the one you loved go, just like it is not easy to fall in love in the first place. This was something you had yet to learn, for Geralt was the first that you had ever truly loved. Sure, you had had harmless flings, but they are harmless. They mean nothing. It was supposed to be the same with him. It turned out to be a lot more harmful to your feelings that it had meant to be.

A snap in the wood behind you captured your attention from your thoughts and you stood, placing your hand firmly on the hilt of your knife on your belt, facing the danger.

“Who’s there?” You cautioned, teeth gritting whilst your eyes adjusted to the darkness beyond the trees. You waited. When you heard another noise to the left of you, you grabbed the lurking body, pushing it hard against a tree. At least you thought you did. The cold of the tree gave you goosebumps up your back and you blinked, attempting the make out the face of the shadow that held its blade against your throat. You stuck your chin up, giving them more access to the skin of your neck. If they were going to cut your throat, they best do it well.

But they released you.

“Shouldn’t you know better than to try to attack me?” The familiar voice made your heart ache.

“I didn’t know it was you.” Pushing his body further away from yours, you sat back down beside the fire, warming your hands by it and rubbing them together. You felt his eyes on you. “If you’re going to just stare at me, fuck off.” Just as you finished your sentence, you shivered. You let out a breath.

Suddenly a pair of large, strong hands wrapped themselves around your figure and pulled you back against a warm, firm object. You could feel his breath against your skin, and you frowned.

“Why did you come looking for me?”

“I was worried.” He said, and your heart fluttered in your chest, though your scowl deepened.

“I am the only female to have ever survived becoming a witcher, and you were worried for me?”

“Hm.” He mumbled.

You sighed deeply. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Being near you. Indulging in my fantasies.” A small chuckle left your lips. “I can’t be around you, Geralt. Not while I still care about you.”

He huffed. “I care about you.” Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched in your throat. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you closer into his chest, his arms firmly wrapped around you, as if he would never let you go.

“But, if that’s true, then why—”

“It was dangerous. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”

“So instead you left me for months on end after I admitted that I loved you?”

“I was protecting you.”

“You needn’t protect me, Geralt. Don’t you know this by now? I can hold my own. Stop trying to protect me.”

“Never.” A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and you smiled. You were still angry at him, obviously, who wouldn’t be? “…Do you still…?”

“Do I still, what?” He cleared his throat awkwardly. You chuckled. “It’s not easy to fall in love. It’s harder to fall out of love.” Spinning yourself around in his arms, you looked at him.

“I love you.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Geralt of Rivia.” He hummed contently at your confession and slid his hand to the back of your neck. He pulled you forward, and you found that his lips were on yours. It wasn’t like the other times that you had shared kisses. This one had an innocence to it. You were being authentically unapologetically yourselves and you were happy to accept each other like that. Like lovers. You were in love with each other.

The two of you spent the night in the forest, cuddled against each other by the fire. And Jaskier was stuck at the inn, with no knowledge of where either of you were.

masterlist

[harryhandstan]

onding

onding (n.)-a heavy fall of rain or snow (in this case snow!)

this was inspired by this request and I thought it would be perfect to include in the A Very Merry Styles Fic Challenge! I cannot take full credit for this one as @tbslenthusiast​ helped guide me as my wonderful creative director, @taintedwonder​ was my amazing editor, and @bfharry​ was my lovely beta reader! honestly owe the title to miss tanya @sunflowers-styles​ cause she was a huge help with that! I appreciate you all so much ❤

hope you all enjoy!!

word count: 1.6k

writing tag | masterlist

//

Snow falls rapidly from the sky as you and Harry drive to your destination, neither of you noticing just how fast at first. You were both too excited at the idea of getting away from your busy schedules to celebrate the holidays with Harry’s family for the week.

His hand rests on your leg as he drives, fingers tapping along to the Christmas music playing from the radio. Occasionally offering a gentle squeeze to your thigh and a sweet smile; relaxation already flowing through his body and wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

The snowflakes seem to get larger and fall faster as you get closer to your destination and, as much as you don’t want to burst through his bubble of contentment, you begin to worry about the quick escalation of them. Your mind starts running through all the many possibilities that could go wrong at the idea of the weather worsening the further you travel.

“Harry..are you sure we shouldn’t stop for the night? It’s getting a bit late and those snowflakes aren’t getting any smaller..”

He ducks his head down slightly to look out the windshield and a deep sigh falls from his lips as he returns to his upright position. You don’t miss the way his fingers grip the steering wheel a bit tighter when he says, “Hate to admit it but, maybe you’re right.”

He still hums along to the songs filling the space, but there’s a significant drop in his mood as he takes the next exit with the most promising hotel options. Your hand trails upwards to work over the knot you can already feel forming on the back of his neck from the stress of the situation as he decides which place would be better suited for the two of you to stay in.

You know his source of frustration only lies with the fact that you’re supposed to be at Anne’s house for Christmas dinner the following evening. You can only hope that the weather permits you to be able to still make an appearance on her doorstep at the time she requested you be there. You know she would be just as happy to see her baby boy a day later than he promised, but it would hurt Harry’s heart deeply not to live up to his word. 

The clerk flashes Harry a knowing look when he hands over his card and tells him he only needs one bed for one night. It has Harry’s own smirk returning to his face and a blush spreading across yours at the implication. You suppress a giggle as the rest of the transaction is processed, but it bubbles up out of you the second you’re in the elevator on the way to the 4th floor where your room waits for you. Your laughter rings through the tiny space and only stops when you let your head fall against his chest. He loops the arm that isn’t supporting his duffel bag around your body to pull you even closer, smacking a kiss to the top of your head.

“Someone’s sleepy,” He mumbles into your hair, “Y’only get this deliriously happy when you’re tired.”

You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Or when I’m spending the weekend snowed in with my rockstar boyfriend.”

“Y’really think we’ll get snowed in?”

You shrug, “Maybe. Would it be so bad to be stuck here together for a few days?”

He scrunches his nose at you, “Nah..we’d miss dinner and presents at Mum’s though.”

“Anne’ll forgive us.”

He nods in agreement, “Yeah, know she would. Can’t control the weather, can we?”

You try to restrain the yawn that creeps up but you fail miserably and cover your mouth as it stretches across your face. It had been a long day; an early morning flight and the new international time zone making your eyes drop closed just until the ding indicates you’ve reached your intended floor.

You keep yourself pressed close to Harry’s side as you make your way down the hallway to your room. He fiddles with the key for only a moment before you almost tumble through the open door and his hand catches your waist quickly to steady you. Luckily the bed is close by and you plop down across the bottom of it, your own duffel tossed aside on the floor, arms extended wide across the cream colored duvet.

He tugs on your wrist and you quietly whine before you peek one eye open to look up at him. Before he can say anything, your stomach growls, outraged at the idea of not being fed since the quick lunch you’d been able to grab much earlier in the day.

“M’hungry, Harry, think we could find some dinner before we crash for a few hours?”

“Doubt anything’s open this time’a night. Let’s do a shower first and then we’ll raid the vending machine, yeah?”

You’re both too tired to do anything much more than actually get clean under the spray of the hot water. It feels like a blessing on your skin and you let it rinse away any worry you might still have about the weather outside. His long fingers work over your scalp to ensure all the suds from your shampoo have disappeared and your eyes droop closed without your consent. You have to splay one hand firmly on his chest to keep from falling into him and knocking you both down in your exhausted state.

He steps out first, careful to keep his eyes on you as he works a towel over his body to dry off, grabbing another one off the small shelf mounted on the wall to wrap you in before he lifts you lightly up and over the edge of the tub. 

“Arms up.” He’s already dressed himself quickly in a loose pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt and you silently curse yourself for being too tired to enjoy the view. He gently assists you in completing your own nighttime ensemble by slipping your oversized night shirt over your head and guiding your arms through. You sink into the soft piece of clothing as your fingers dance across the hem of the shirt.

“Hey. Y’forgot something,” He chuckles when you look down at your outfit, confused by what he means. “Up here, love. Kiss?” He requests and bends down so you don’t have far to reach up and indulge his offer. It’s a quick peck, mainly to the side of his mouth, but he doesn’t complain; fingers gently guiding your chin to center his lips over yours, a satisfied hum vibrating through his chest just before he pulls away.

You’re more alert now as you make your way to the small vending area that the two of you had passed earlier on your way to the room. He digs some change from his pocket with the hand that isn’t laced with yours, transferring some of it over to your free hand, before jingling his portion around while he surveys the options in the machine. You’re already loading your coins in, poking the numbers on the keypad, and you eagerly await your snack as it makes its way out of the coils to drop down into the slot.

“Knew you’d go for those.” There’s a lazy smile working its way over one side of his mouth as he watches you bend to retrieve the bag of pretzels.

“They’re my favorites,” You mumble and you tear the bag open, unable to wait until you get back to the room. You rest your head on his shoulder while you wait for him to decide on his own snack, “What’re you gonna get?”

“Well seein’ as you snagged the last bag of those, ya g’nna hafta share.” 

“Gladly.” You pluck one from the now partly empty bag and bring it to his lips. He bends to accept it, crunching as he finally adds his coins in the machine.

“I’ll get somethin’ sweet for us to split, how’s that sound?” 

You hum in agreement, exhaustion working its way through your body again, your brain too tired to form words at the moment. The coils around his selection unwind, dropping it with a clatter, and you move with him when he bends to collect it.

You’re again thankful for the short distance back to the room and a whispered “oof” falls from his lips when you trip over nothing but your socked feet. His hand loosely clutches a handful of the fabric of your shirt to help steady you until you’re falling back on the bed and scooting up to the top. You tuck yourself under the heavy layers of the sheets and duvet and don’t bother waiting for him as you burrow as deep as you can to get warm.

You don’t make it to dessert, passing off the now half eaten bag of pretzels to him, preferring the comfort of the pillow against your cheek over the bite of chocolate he offers you.

“Reckon y’were right about us stopping when we did,” He mutters as he stares down at his phone, the weather app casting a glow onto his face in the now dimly lit room, “Pretty big snow storm blowin’ through. We might be here a lil’ longer than one night.”

“Hmm.” 

He knows you’re mostly gone, sleep overtaking any conscious response you may have been able to provide, and he shakes his head at the sleepy smile on your face. Just as your soft snores fill the space between you, his heart swells at the sight of you resting peacefully; knowing there’s no one else he’d rather be snowed in with than his sweet, sleepy girl.

[sherrybaby14]

All the Same

This is for the wonderful @lancsnerd​ 1K challenge (Sorry I am so late)!

Pairing:  Geralt x female reader

Warnings:  Domestic Violence, Smut, Angst, Violence, Blood

Words: 6k

Prompt:  “I was your assignment, and then you fell in love with me”. (Changed it a little)

Summary:  The Witcher is coming to your village and you have been tasked with finding out why.

   The drunkard on the piano was playing the same song he did every night and you rolled your eyes as you filled another pitcher of lager.  

   Some nights you wished more than anything you got moved off the graveyard shift, but others you were grateful the drunks would leave soon and your time at work would consist of watching the empty bar.  

   “Best to keep an eye out tonight.”  Your boss leaned against the doorway to the kitchen.  

   “Why’s that?”  You glanced to the dagger kept underneath the bar.  

   “Word is, a Witcher is on the road. Stopping here.”  He flung the rag over his shoulder.

   “Here?”  You about overfilled the pitcher.  “In our tiny village?  Why?”

   “That’s what I want to know.”  He glanced across the barroom, watching the dwindling crowd.  “Find out for me, would ya Love?”

   “Not my job Sir.”  You had never met a Witcher, but your heart raced at the idea.

   “How about now?”  Your boss tossed a bag of coin next to you.  “Still trying to get on your feet aren't ya? I’ll double it if you give me anything worth my while.”

   You did not hesitate as you picked up the bag and shoved it in your pocket.  A pang of guilt hit your heart, you were no spy, but were desperate.  You needed to get back on your feet.  Besides, this was the first bonus your boss had ever offered.

   “Consider me hired.”  You turned to drop off the pitcher, the customer closing out their tab.  

   The piano player abandoned the instrument and you could tell the mood had shifted.

   “Witchers are bad for business.”  Your boss kicked off the door and went to the kitchen.  “I want him gone.”  

   “Monsters are worse.”  Of course the idea of a monster in this town was silly, the only one who lived here was your ex.

~~

   The crowd was gone by one.  It was strange, you were used to forcing people to their rooms around two, this was the earliest you could remember the place being empty.

   You picked up your current book and tried to read, but every thought went to your boss’ warning.  Why would a Witcher come here?  You hadn’t heard a single rumor of anything off.  Maybe he was passing through?  If memory served you right there was a sheep slaughtered a few weeks ago.  People said it was a wolf, but maybe more, would a Witcher come for that though?  

   The door opened and your breath caught in your throat.  There he was, pale skin with pale hair that stood out against the vibrant oranges of the wooden walls dancing with firelight.  

   You shook your head and shut your mouth, trying not to show your awe for the man.  

   The mug you grabbed shook as you turned and poured him some mead.  

   “I heard you were coming.”  You spun back around and set the drink on the counter.  

   “You did?”  He blinked in confusion and glanced around the empty room.

   “Oh, I’m not a psychic or anything.” You gave a nervous laugh.  “My boss, he told me.  He said you were coming here though and I never asked how he knew that part.  It’s been bothering me all night.”  

   The man walked slow, his eyes taking in everything.  You cringed as you grabbed a smaller glass and poured yourself a bit of wine, hoping to drown your embarrassment.  

   “I am sorry.  I should not have been so forward.”  You smiled as you drank it down.  “I should have played it much more smooth.  May I start over?”

   “Please.”  The man grabbed the handle of his sword and you turned around, half expecting a vicious beast behind you. “Now it is my turn to apologize.”

   You looked back to him as he let go of the handle, holding his hands in the air.  

   “I am not used to hospitality.”  He pulled out the chair and had a seat.  “This is most unusual.”  

   “You are most welcome here.”  You poured another shot of wine and took it down.  “So, did my superior mean here as in this bar or here as in the town?  I mean, we are the only bar in the town and it is no secret Witchers like to indulge, but there is a much nicer inn not far from here, but we do have a few rooms if you would like to stay the night?  All are vacant, we are not frequented, occasionally a drunkard needs a spot for a few hours, our rates are reasonable but for you it will be gratis of course and have I mentioned I babble when nervous?”  

   Worst spy ever.  You grabbed the bottle of red and brought it to your lips, this time taking a chug as the Witcher smiled.  

   A warmth spread through you at the sight.  A Witcher smiling.  You never knew such a thing was possible.  

   “I am not sure what your supervisor was aware of, but it’s no secret Witchers indulge?”  He picked up the mug in front of him and looked inside, his eyes wide as if he were studying.  

   “My father, he used to tell tales of fairies and dragons and warlocks and vampires.”  Your eyes flashed as you pictured his face.  “And Witchers too.”  

   “Did he tell you how we strike down the wicked? Or how we are sell swords?”  The Witcher took a drink and then brought the mug away from his face, staring at what you poured him with shock.  

   “He told me how easy it would be to poison your drinks.”  You smiled but the man almost fell out of his chair as you burst out laughing.

   You clapped as he grabbed for his sword handle, hesitating as you grinned at him.  Then he relaxed in his seat as his eyes looked over your face.  

   “I am sure you have far better insight into a Witcher than my father, enlighten my poor soul?”  When you sat down the coin in your pocket jingled, reminding you of your mission for the night.  There was no harm in getting to know the man in the process though.

~~

   “I have not spoken as many words this night as I have all of the past year.”  Geralt’s eyes continued to dance on your face.  

   It would have been easy to shy under his gaze, but as the dawn grew near your mind was being tugged elsewhere.  

   “Does the sun rising bother you?”  His brows furrowed.  

   “Not in the slightest.” In fact, you frowned, wishing you were just waking up instead of readying for bed.  “I would give anything to not sleep in a tiny bed upstairs, not work overnights at a place where the bulk of my wages go to room and board.  I am saving up.  This is temporary.”  

   “Then why do you keep glancing at the door?”  Geralt shifted, you watched his hand shift toward his weapon once again, but this time he did not come close to grabbing it.  

   “Fell in with a bad lad.” You shook your head.  “Controlling type.  He works overnights as well.  Only I am off at eight and he is off at six.  I expect him any second.  He will sit down, beg for me to come home, lament about his problems, like I give a fuck.  It’s been almost a year since we split, or should I say since he split my head open and I had the common sense to leave him.”  

   Tears started to form, but you blinked them away.  

   “Whatever monster you are here to kill.  I hope it is him.”  You smiled at your joke, hoping to break the tension, but Geralt didn’t find any humor in your statement.  

   Now the air grew thick between the two of you, all the good will and fun turned to awkwardness.  

   “What are you here to kill by the way?”  The subject needed to be changed.  “A banshee? A ghoul? A Bailisk?”  

   “Your father taught you well about the supernatural.”  Geralt swirled his drink.  “He must have been well researched.”

   “Right after he died, I wanted him back.  I was broken.  He was all I ever knew.”  This time you let a tear fall.  “I even tried to find a Witcher or a Mage or anything.  But his books, the legends he told me, they all said the same thing.  The dead,  even if they do come back, they can’t understand the living anyway.”

   “Very well researched.” Geralt grunted.  

   The door opened and relief flooded your body as the opening bartender walked in.  

   “Well, my shift is over. Kolly is here.  I am sure she can keep your attention.”  You stood up and wiped your tear.  “Unless you have changed your mind and want a room?”

   Your coworker’s eyes went wide as she looked at the only patron.   You were sure she was as shocked as you were not to walk in on your ex sitting there.  

   “Where do you sleep?”  Geralt rose from his stool.  

   Kolly stopped walking and glared at you. As immoral of a question it was your body heat flared and you clenched your thighs at the thought.  The last you wanted was rumors flying around the town.  

   “I sleep alone.”  You gave Kolly a side glance and she nodded in approval before walking into the kitchen.  “But thank you for the company, though my boss will be disappointed.”  

   “Why is that?”  Geralt narrowed his eyes.

   “Well, you were my assignment.”  It didn’t feel right to lie.  “Find out why you are here, but after our night I believe I am more likely to fall in love with you than deceive you.”

   The same smile you caught earlier washed over his face.  This was the first time since Robert you’d felt any connection with another person.

   “Tell your boss,  I am passing through, there is wraith in Sehalsberg, but given the warm reception I received I will return for the hospitality.”  Geralt’s eyes focused on you again.  

   The way he looked at you fluttered your stomach, how you wished Kolly was not here to judge.  

   “Goodnight then.  I hope you return soon.”  You tried to hide the smile as you turned and walked to the stairs, feeling his eyes on your back as you headed to your small room.  

~~

“That’s it?”  Your boss scoffed.  “Passing through?  And how much free mead did you give the man?”

”I...I was trying to get information.”  You should have known better than to think your boss was going to pay you a dime.

“Well, that will be coming out of your wages.”  He shook his head.  “Plus I heard Mister and the boys did not arrive in the morning, you know how much coin they drop here! Sometimes I swear it's the only reason I keep you on.”

All the frustration you were feeling you bit down.  You needed this job.  So you nodded.

“Kick you out on the street.”  He threw his hands in the air.  “A Witcher, passing through.”

~~

The bar emptied out at the normal time.  You kept the fires going, trying to read your book and hoping Geralt would stop in again, memories of your night before making you smile non stop.  

But as the hours went on your heart broke more and more.  You told yourself it was unreasonable to think he would be back the next night.  Then when the door opened and your ex stepped inside with his group of coworkers your heart shattered.  

His eyes locked with yours and there was a fury as he strolled up to you.  

“What did you say to him?”

You moved back against the bar, but he reached out and grabbed the hair above your ear yanking you forward.

“You know I love you?  Why would you betray me?”  

As you tried to twist away he slammed your head down against the bar.  Monster.  You should have made that clearer to Geralt.  Then maybe he would have saved you.  

~~

   There was no warning from your boss, no rumors.  But you had not forgotten of Geralt. Months had past, but when the doors opened at two in the morning one night and he walked in your heart went a flutter.  

   “Passing through?”  This time the shake was worse.  You had played this conversation out over and over in your head.  “There cannot be a second monster in a nearby town.”

   “I never caught the first.”  Geralt sat down, making no attempts for his sword.  “I thought you might have forgotten me.”

   “A girl never forgets her first Witcher.”  You poured him a jug of mead.  “Now please, tell me where you have been.  What you have seen.”

   “I would rather hear about you.”  He took a drink without looking.  “Tell me, has your monster returned?”  

   Your chest struggled to breath.  Now was your chance to ask what you had been hoping for.

   “Every day since the last you were here.”  This was not how you practiced.  “He was violent once, nobody cared.”  

   Geralt stood and you ran around the bar to him, this stranger from one night.  You broke down against his chest, sobbing.  His arms came around you, his body stiff.  

   “There’s no comfort in you.”  You pushed off of him, glaring up.  

   “What?”  He looked surprised.  

   “I can feel it.”  You put your arms to his chest, palms against his leather top.  “You don’t care either.  I am trapped here.”

   “Untrue.”  Geralt pulled you back, cradled you.  Then you felt it, his stiffness relax, his hands pulling you tighter, rubbing your back.  “I care more than you know.”  

   “I think about you.”  Shame and embarrassment over your confession vanished.  “Just one night talking and I think about you non-stop.  I wonder where you are, how you are feeling, what mundane tasks you must be doing.  Curious why you have cast such a spell on me.”  

   Geralt’s hands found your shoulders and pushed you back.  He gazed at you with the studying look that should have made you melt, but his eyes would not stay still.  

   You tried to focus on what he was looking at when he pulled you closer, upwards and his lips crashed into yours.  Heat seeped into your veins.  A burning as your mouth opened and his tongue drove inside.  

   You drank him down.  Shuddering against his chest as you attempted to keep up.  The warmth turning to a burn as you kissed him back, your brain going dizzy as all the liquid in your body gathered between your legs.  

   Just as you started to give in, the feeling vanished.  Your eyes blinked several times, seeing the warm hues from the room and the greys from him turn into one.   His purple eyes were aflame.   His chest moving faster than your own as he struggled for breath.  

   “What’s wrong?”  Every problem in your orbit had vanished with that kiss.  

   Anger returned your gaze as Geralt let go of you and vanished out of the bar.  You wanted to follow but were too stunned.

   You hunched over and your struggle for air turned into tears.  What were you thinking?  A Witcher would never be your savior.  You were doomed.  

~~

   It was hard to tell the passage of time.  Your savings depleted with every broken glass.   You were beginning to think your boss and your ex were in on this together, keeping you trapped here.  

   Memories of your one night with Geralt kept you going.  But then you remembered the second night, the kiss and look of disgust on his face.  Witchers could not fall in love.  And who fell in love with anyone after one night?  Oh, that’s right.  You did.

   “Best to keep an eye out tonight.”  Your boss leaned against the doorway to the kitchen.  

   “Why’s that?”  You remembered the last time you heard this.

   “Word is, a Witcher is on the road. Stopping here.”  He flung the rag over his shoulder.

   “He won’t stop here.”  You knew the hospitality ran out.

   “Find out why he is here.”  Your boss flung a bag of coin at you.  “More when you get the reason?”  

   It couldn’t have been that long ago that Geralt was here.  You looked up at him with confusion.

   “Witchers are bad for business.”  He kicked off the wall and walked away.  

   Much like the last time you had this conversation, the bar began to empty.  A weird echo ran down your spine, but you brought your fingers to your lips and felt the tingle.  This time a pit formed in your stomach as you never expected to see Geralt again.

~~

   The last patron left and you started to wipe down the counters, thinking of reasons to lock the door.  Sure your boss would find out and then slash your earnings, but that happened anyway.  You had confessed your feelings to a Witcher on the second time you saw him.  Why would he come back anyway?  To torture you?  

   You sighed and went to close up early, not caring if you got fired.  But before you rounded the bar the door opened.  

   Pale hair.  Pale skin.  A different face looked up at you.  Not Geralt.  

   The man drew his sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.  

   “There is no need for those weapons.”  You went back to the bar.  “Can I offer you something to drink?  I promise you have nothing to fear here.  We welcome Witchers.”  

   “You…..what?”  The man looked at you and then stalked into the kitchen.

   “That’s not a public area…” You followed behind him, but he spun and moved into a defensive stance.  “I am sorry.  Please, do what needs to be done.”

   You thought about Geralt’s first night, how he kept going for his sword.  Cautious, hesitant.  This must have been normal.  Inspecting for enemies.  

   Without thinking you poured him and yourself a drink.  Visions of your kiss with the previous Witcher tried to dash in front of your eyes, but you pushed them away.   Should you bring up his name?  Ask where he was?  Where he had been?  What he was thinking about?  Had he mentioned you? Is that why the new one was here?  

   But before your nervousness made you blab he came out of the kitchen.  His eyes and stance toward you as he circled the bar.  

   “I poured you a drink.  Please,  sit and relax.”  You took your own and slammed it back.  

   “How odd.” He looked at your face with the same scrutiny as Geralt, studying and curious, but there was no spark.  It was more like he glared as if you were a dead animal he was attempting to dissect. “Where is your crypt?”

   “Crypt?��  You gave a nervous laugh.  “We are a bar with a few spare rooms upstairs.  No crypt.”

“Take me to your room.”  The man pointed the dagger at you.

You stared at him with your mouth open, unsure what the threat was or his intentions.

“Do you know Geralt?  He is a Witcher who has passed through here.  Are you looking for him?  He has not been here in ages, but he mentioned a monster a few towns over.”  You started to back up against the mugs, but the Witcher spun behind the bar, turning you with his sword and dagger out until you were in the open area.  “This must be a misunderstanding.”  

“These are pure silver.”  His eyes flashed with anger.  “Do not think of trying anything smart.  Now take me to your resting place.”  

“They look lovely, I can tell the fine craftsmanship.”  You tried to hide your nerves, and remembered what a gentleman Geralt was.  “A lady’s bedroom is no place for an uninvited man.”

“NOW!” His voice roared as he lunged forward.  

“ALRIGHT!”  You jumped back.  “Please don’t hurt me and put those things away.”

All the fear you had been bottling since the man walked in came rushing forward.  Your instincts took over and you ran to the front door.  He dropped his sword and reached out, grabbing your shoulder, and spinning you to face him.

“I can touch you.”  His face was featureless as he recoiled his hand with a look of horror.

“Not tonight.”  You slapped him across the face as hard as possible before turning to run again.  

You didn’t make it three steps before he shoved you forward, your knees hit the hardwood with a clunk as your body bounced.  

“STOP!”  You kicked at him as he dropped down on top of you, the weight of him heavy as he flipped you over.  

You struggled while he straddled you pinning you down.   You continued to claw, bite, kick, whatever you could.  The dagger was still in his hand when a slice sounded through the air.  

An inhuman scream left your lips as your arm flooded with white hot pain.  You vision began to blacken as your chest heaved.  It felt as if your arm was starting to rot off from the inside.  You cried and winced, unable to gasp for air.  

The Witcher let go of your hands and you cradled your arm.  Confused as to how this could hurt that badly.  

“I am sending you back to where you belong.”  He lifted the dagger high in the air.  

Your head rolled as if an infection was spreading, your brain and muscles oozing with hurt.  You shut your eyes and opened them again.  The warm orange against the brown wood was gone.  You saw grey and decay.  Spiderwebs and a rundown bar.

“What?”  You pinched your eyes shut, thinking it was a fever dream.  “Have you poisoned me?  What treachery is this?”

The bar you spent each night cleaning was covered in dust and mildew.  There was a broken beam in the ceiling and a hole in the roof.   Your head lulled back at the piano.  

“Someone was playing that all night.”  You didn’t undrestand, the beautiful polished keys were missing, chipped.  Strings were hanging out the top.  “What is happening?”

“You will haunt this place no more you evil beast.”  The Witcher puffed his chest and raised the dagger even higher.  

“NO!”  You braced yourself, shielding your body with your arms.  

“SHES’S NOT EVIL!”  Geralt’s voice filled the room.  

“Geralt….?”  You tried to twist and look at him, but your eyes couldn’t focus.  “What is happening to me?”  

“Have you forgotten your creed?”  The weight on your hips lifted as you rolled on the floor. “She must be destroyed.”  

“Have you forgotten yours?”  The sound of a sword being drawn echoed and you looked up at the moonlight, seeing the rotted bannister to the upstairs.  “We don’t kill innocents.”

“Innocent?”  The other Witcher scoffed.  “She killed Robert Blanton.  The son of the man who hired us!”

“She is stuck in a time loop.  She does not know what she is.”  Geralt’s voice began to fade.  “How is that her fault?”  

“So you want to what?  Save her?”  The stranger laughed.  “You are insane.”  

“I won’t let you kill her.”  Geralt grunted as he stepped over you.

“She is already dead.”  The man let out a roar and you heard the clashes of blades.  

“Dead?” It came out as a whimper and you rolled on to your side.

The sounds of the men fighting faded away as you lifted your hand.  The flesh looked real, the color the same it had always been, but then you caught sight of the wound.  The scratch from the dagger was spreading decay.  You could see your bone as the skin pulled away, as if you were struck with fire that would not burn out.  

“MmMmmpph!”  You looked up and spotted a man on his side, bound and gagged.

There were tears running down his cheeks, he was older, you would guess at least sixties, he was bald with a white beard, nothing but fear in his eyes.  Those eyes.  

“That’s the monster you are after.”  Geralt’s voice came back.  “He did this to her.  He is responsible for Robert Blanton’s death.”  

“Stander?”  It was him, your ex who taunted you every morning, who hurt you physically and mentally, but he was so much older even though you just saw him that day.  

“He is a human being.” The other Witcher laughed.  “We do not kill humans.”

“You are correct.”  The banging of the sword continued until you heard a grunt and a slice followed by a gasp.  “We kill monsters.”  

There was a groan and a thud against the floor.  Everything hurt.  

“Are you alright?”  Geralt came to your side and pulled you close.  “It’s over.  I’m going to take you from here.”  

With a swirl, everything clicked.  Time loop, two Witchers, Robert being dead.  The way your boss was so mechanical, the way every day felt the same.

“I was your assignment.”  You reached up and cupped his face.  “But you fell in love.”  

   Geralt’s eyes flashed in the moonlight.  He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut his lips.  You pinched your eyes shut as your chest started to shake.  

   “No...no...I won’t let you die.”  He set your head on the ground.

   “Fix her.”  Geralt stomped over to Stander and kicked him in the gut.  “Fix her and I will spare your life.”  

   The objection hung on your lips.  You were ready to cross over, but before you could get the word out consciousness left.  If you had to leave, at least it was being loved.

~~

   The bustling of the dinner crowd woke you up.  You had more of a headache tonight than you’d had in months.  Nothing you could do about it now.  You took a drink of water from your bed stand and then readied for work.  

   When you walked out of your room you ignored the crowd and smiled, a vision of Geralt in your head.  Of course it turned into a frown, remembering the kiss.  You were destined to be alone.  

   “Good evening.”  The voice echoed across the crowd as you made your way downstairs.  

   Your heart wanted to leap out of its chest at the familiar voice.  You locked eyes with the Witcher and the headache intensified.  

   The colors and sounds of the bar started to blur.  You shut your lids to take the flashes out and sat on the stairs.  The noises flared and your headache intensified.

   “Hey.”  A warm hand touched your knee.  “It will be alright.”  

   The background noises left and you looked up with a shake to see your Witcher standing in front of you.  

   “What?”  The bar was dilapidated, dust and holes and rotted wood.  

   Memories came crashing back.  The second Witcher, Stander.  

   “What am I?”  It felt like all the air was sucked out of your lungs as you looked to your arm.  There was no scar, but the searing hot pain echoed in your bones.  “Am I dead?”

   “In a sense.”  Geralt’s finger came under your chin.  “Twenty five years ago, you were murdered here.  Your killer could not let you go.  With the help of a Mage he trapped your spirit in this, a fake recreation of your body.

   “He sets you with a time loop, you can break through and when that happens he murders you again and resets.  It makes you see things that aren’t there.  But some memories don’t get erased.”

   “Like you?”  You looked around in the moonlight.  “My boss?”

   “After your murder, he let the business go into shambles.  Everyone in the village knew who the killer was, but nobody would speak up.  It was the perfect spot to reset you. Some of the things he said, knowing they would be erased did not.  That’s how the image of your boss knew I was coming.”  Geralt hid nothing.  “Stander was the only one who set foot in here over the years until…”

   “Until Robert.”  You gasped.  

   Memories that had been lost came forward.  The way he walked in, shocked to see you.  The way he kept coming back, how you looked forward to it.  Then the one kiss and he was gone.

   “I killed him?”  You thought of the heat from your kiss with Geralt.  “I drain the life force with my touch.”

   “Not your touch.”   Geralt ran his fingers over your lips, it sounded like an echo of sorrow spread across the bar.  “The murderer showed me the spell, I brought you back one final time.  Silver will destroy you. Once it spreads to your heart you will be free.”  

   Geralt set a dagger on the step next to you.  You looked at the metal, the thought of crossing over.  

   “So am I gollum?”  You didn’t look away.  “An unnatural recreation, do I even have a soul?”

   “You are a soul.”  Geralt gave a squeeze to your knee.  “But you can cross over now.  Be with your father.”  

   “And what if I am not ready?”  You looked at him.  “Am I trapped here?  Tethered?  It feels like months, but its been years?”  

   “Tethered to this realm yes, but not this place.”  Geralt bit his lip.  “You are free to leave, just did not know you had the option.”

   “The fake time loop.”  You glanced at the door, never thinking of walking through it because every night had felt like an average night at work.  All the years you had wasted.  When you could have walked away.

   A creak in the floor made both of your heads snap.  There was Stander, tied to a chair.

   “I promised I would spare his life in exchange for the spell.”  Geralt stood.  “I am a man of my word.  I thought you might want the final one with him.”  

   The final word.   Dragging your killer, your tormenter to the bowels of hell.  It was tempting.  

   “I need more than a word.”  You stood up from the stairs and took a brief pace.  “I think my former lover needs a kiss goodnight.”

   You ripped off the cloth bound over his mouth and he let out a scream as you pushed your lips to his.   It was slow, not the burning passion you felt with Geralt.  But the heat intensified as your lips pressed to his.  You gripped his cheeks, holding his head in place while you felt his life source draining into you.

   The heat turned into a scorch, but unlike your arm the night before it was pleasant.  You wanted that burn.  He tried to scream, but it was muffled by your lips as his body began to jerk.   You sucked in air and pulled away, taking him with you, your body glowing with warmth as his corpse twisted into the chair.  

   “I promised nothing.”  You wiped your lips as pure energy ran through your veins and you turned to Geralt.  “Tell me, am I a monster now?”  

   “No.”  Geralt walked forward.  

   “And was I a monster for killing Robert?”  You pushed your shoulders back.

   “No.”  Geralt took another step.

   “And if I kill again,  will that make me a monster?”  You swallowed.

   “Not if they deserve it.”  Geralt came closer.

   “And if they do not?”  You reached out and grabbed his hand.  “Will you end me?”  

   He hesitated, his lips trying to think of the words.

   “I do not believe that day will come.”  His hand moved to your waist and he brought you closer.  “I saw you, that first night.  You will never be a monster.”

   “But if it does, do I have your word that you will kill me?”  You tilted your chin and looked him in the eye, watching his iris swirl.  

   “No.”  His lips dropped to your neck as you let out a moan and clawed at his back.  

   He sucked and nipped as he guided you until your back hit the bar.   You dropped your head and kissed his cheek as your fingers found the hem of his shirt.  You untucked the garment from his pants and tugged it upward.  He pulled away and stripped the top off before crashing back against you, guiding your legs to spread.  

   Strong hands gripped your bottom and guided you on to the bar.  You gathered your skirts and spread your legs, baring yourself to him.  

   Both of your fingers went to his trousers and undid the lacing.  His cock sprung free and your chest heaved with excitement.  How long had it been?  Who was your last?  Was there ever a first?  Not with this body.  

   Geralt ran the tip of his cock up your slit, you were soaked and ready for him.  He lined up and you gripped his shoulder.  

   “Ah!”  Your head fell back as he pushed inside of you.  The pain made your thighs shake as your head fell against his shoulder.  “It hurts.  Too much.”  

   He stilled and with gasped breaths looked at you, steadying himself.  You could feel him pulsing inside of you.  

   “This body, whatever it is, it’s new.”  You brought your hand to the back of his neck.  “I want to kiss you.”  

   His fingers traced down your cheek and he bit his lips as he shook his head.  With shut eyes you leaned against him and nodded. Then brought your lips to his collarbone and began to make your mark.  

   Geralt followed your lead, pulling out a bit before diving back in, bracing himself against the bar with one hand, the other digging into your hip.  

   Each stroke replaced the pain with pleasure.  Your winces turned into coos that turned into moans.  

   A rhythm formed as you lifted your hips, welcoming him inside of your.  The movements hit your core and you felt yourself tense.  

   “Too much?”  He kissed your head as his hand ran up the back of you neck.

   “Not enough.”  You started rocking faster.  “Please, go, go.”  

   Your fingers wound in his hair as he honored your request.  The tightness in your chest spread to the apex between your legs and you ground down harder.   Geralt picked up his pace and your vision began to blur.  

   You fisted his hair and yanked as your release came over you, pleasure filling your body, no your soul as the cry left your mouth.  

   He followed you into the oblivion.  Filling you with his seed in the process.  Both of you started to kiss each other’s necks, moving up the cheeks until you were almost at the lips.  

   Foreheads dipped and you pressed them together.  A few times you saw him go to pucker, but pull away.  There would never be a real kiss between you.  

   You stayed like that for a moment.  Both of you gathering your bearings.  When he slipped from you, you almost collapsed, but his hand stayed on your hip.  

   “We need to leave.”  Geralt tucked himself away and picked up his shirt.  “There is a dead Witcher and a dead villager.”  

   “To hunt monsters?”  You stood up from the bar, your legs shaking.  “That is my life now?”

   You looked at the door, ready to venture into the world.

   “Not your life.”  Geralt smiled.  “Never forget,  you’re already dead.”  

   You stared at him before a big grin crossed your face.  

   “And you love me all the same.”  

A/N:  Thank you for reading!! I so appreciate every comment and like!  

[rodneymckays]

stargate episodes that should have been, part 20: an alternate reality episode where cam went to atlantis and sheppard joined sg-1. in this universe cam wasn’t injured in antarctica and i think that he is the kind of guy who would go to another galaxy for fun and also because he has to do the Best thing he can possibly do and that’s going to another galaxy. sheppard for whatever reason didn’t sit in the chair but did still fly jack down to antarctica so when they’re looking for sg-1’s fourth jack is like “well there’s this guy i met who kinda reminds me of me except he likes antarctica for some reason” so he becomes sg-1’s fourth under sam’s command. i think at first that would cause issues because of his problems with following orders + sam is new to her command and feeling somewhat insecure about it BUT these issues aren’t with sheppard disobeying sam’s orders they’re just sam worrying that he will. because sheppard only disobeys orders that he sees as bad and from what i remember of s4 + his personality in general he really respects sam. anyways this is actually a 3-parter because you have the sg-1 episode where our sg-1 meets the other sg-1, the atlantis episode where our atlantis people meet the other atlantis people, and then the crossover where they all meet one another because you can’t have the sheppards and the cams not meet themselves. i have no idea where in the timeline it is beyond “not season 4” because there are inconsistencies, but whatever. it’s also very long so i am using paragraph breaks for once!! also i will be putting a 1 after the duplicates from the show universe and a 2 after the duplicates from the au for clarity. (everyone without a number is the only one of themselves present and is from the au). also i definitely got carried away and this is too much plot and not enough character interaction even though i originally thought this one up for the character interactions, oops.

EPISODE 1: SG-1. somehow, our sg-1(1) is pulled through to this other reality. something to do with ba’al messing with some ancient tech in the other reality. the sg-1(2) of that reality, led by sam2 and featuring a major sheppard2, has snuck onto the ha’tak ba’al is using as his base of operations. they run into our sg-1(1) and there’s some spider-man pointing meme and then sam1 and sam2 start discussing how this could have happened while the valas compliment each other’s hair and cam1 and sheppard2 go “wait but you’re supposed to be in atlantis” “no, YOU’RE supposed to be in atlantis.” eventually we find out that ba’al is using ancient tech to develop a hyperdrive capable of traveling between galaxies, which the goa’uld don’t have. his test destination is the pegasus galaxy because he figures that if it works for one jump but then fails, then he can just turn up at atlantis and ask the tau’ri for help again after threatening them lightly to save face. obviously the humans don’t want ba’al going to pegasus, because we like our villains to stay confined to just one galaxy, and also if his hyperdrive works then he could destroy atlantis or ally himself with the wraith or be defeated by the wraith and have his ship captured and now the wraith have an intergalactic hyperdrive or—well, there’s lots of ways it could go wrong, and sg-1(1) gets the point that they need to help sg-1(2) stop ba’al. they spend much of the episode tracking ba’al and sneaking around the ship, until they finally corner ba’al in the engine room and teal’c2 shoots him. unfortunately, they enter hyperspace almost immediately after this, and are captured by… another ba’al. END.

EPISODE 2: ATLANTIS. somehow, our atlantis team1 is pulled through to this other reality. something to do with mckay2 and zelenka messing with some ancient tech in the other reality. our atlantis team1 is quickly locked in interrogation rooms because who are they and why is major sheppard with them instead of colonel mitchell? this tips off mckay1 to the fact that they’re now in an alternate reality. fortunately mckay2 and zelenka have already reached this conclusion and they’re let out of the interrogation rooms just in time for news to reach atlantis that a ha’tak has arrived in pegasus. (and also before ronon1 and ronon2 start fighting instead of just glaring menacingly at one another, because who thought it was a good idea to have ronon2 interrogate ronon1. he didn’t even ask any questions.) alternate weir decides to send the atlantis team2 in to investigate but mckay2 is like “i’ll need someone to help me with the goa’uld tech, we’ll take zelenka” but zelenka is immediately like “no?? there’s another you here. take him. i don’t like leaving the city” so it’s decided that both mckays will go, and you can’t send mckay1 without the rest of his team so EVERYONE is going. they take two jumpers because mitchell2 and sheppard1 both want to fly the jumper. when they arrive through the space gate that the ha’tak is near, they see a badly damaged wraith hive with no life signs. the ha’tak has also taken some damage, but much less, and they’re able to fly through a hole in the hull to board. they detect minimal life signs: two on the bridge, eleven in the cells, and a few others scattered around that must be ba’al’s jaffa. the group decides to split up; they toss a coin and mitchell’s team2 goes to the bridge while sheppard’s team1 goes to the cells. when sheppard’s team1 arrives at the cells, they find them unguarded but locked. mckay1 cracks the lock and we see the cell doors slide open. cut to the bridge. when mitchell’s team2 arrives, they see one of the dots on the life signs detector begin to fade. mckay2 gets the door open just in time to see ba’al collapse to the floor, having been fed on by a wraith. END.

EPISODE 3: CROSSOVER. what the hell, ba’al is in a wraith now. (i’ve always wondered about what would happen if the goa’uld met the wraith; would they fight and if so who would win? or would a goa’uld take a wraith as a host? is that even possible? i say yes because it’s Fun.) the symbiote entered the wraith and then promptly fed on his former host because he was hungry. this is obviously Terrible News because the wraith are bad enough but tbh they’re not very smart. ba’al is. mitchell’s atlantis team2 all point their weapons at him and radio sheppard’s atlantis team1 to let them know there’s now a goa’uld with a wraith host. sheppard1 responds and says “ok, we’ll we’ve got two sg-1s here. and also todd” to which mitchell2 replies “who the hell is todd?” (“pale skin, long hair, likes to suck your soul out with his hand but makes it weird by returning your soul ten minutes later?” “oh you mean casper.” “what the hell kind of a name is casper?” “what the hell kind of a name is todd?!”) we find out that “casper”, who is of course alternate todd but was named casper by mitchell2, was on the hive ba’al disabled. he and one other wraith were taken aboard the ha’tak, and he was put in the cell for later in case the first implantation of a wraith didn’t work. he’s willing to help everyone defeat wraith ba’al, because goa’ulds taking wraith as hosts is bad for the wraith too. so they do some stuff, and with much difficulty, kill wraith ba’al. it’s harder than killing a normal wraith because he has the goa’uld regenerative ability, and also he keeps feeding on his jaffa to recover after being shot. eventually they manage to trick him into a set of rings and space him. then they have to decide what to do with the ha’tak. casper wants it for himself because of the intergalactic hyperdrive and turns on them. they manage to activate the self destruct and flee back to the jumpers. they believe that casper is destroyed in the self destruct, but he survives somehow. the rest of the episode is the sams, mckays, and zelenka trying to figure out how to send sg-1(1) and the atlantis team1 home. we also get a few character moments between everyone and their counterparts: cam2 and both sheppards discuss puddlejumpers while cam1 is sad because he doesn’t have the gene and never received gene therapy so he can’t fly a puddlejumper. they break into medical to convince beckett to give cam1 the gene therapy; they’re pretty sure it’ll work on him since it worked on cam2. it does, and the cams and the sheppards immediately have a race to the mainland and back. (the sheppards win, but it’s close, and the cams try to blame it on the fact that cam1 has never flown a jumper before while everyone else has.) the daniels go to the library together and share their knowledge about the ancients and the ori; mostly they know the same stuff but they do both learn a few new things. the ronons fight one another. it’s a draw. the teylas and the teal’cs watch the ronons fight, and then meditate. the valas flit between each of the groups and compare their versions of everyone. vala1 ends up in weir’s office and bugs her with a bunch of questions until weir actually puts down her work and just Hangs Out. vala2 ends up with the cams and the sheppards because she’s absolutely best buds with sheppard2 and desperately wants to meet sheppard1. anyways after everyone hangs out for awhile they go home and it’s a very :) ending, which is what they need after All That.

i like this character swap idea a lot because after watching the pegasus project i was kinda chomping at the bit for more character interaction between sheppard and the rest of sg-1. particularly vala. more after the cut cause i wanna yell about all the other stuff i love about this!!

i also like the idea of sheppard not being in the team leader position. it makes me wonder what him following orders offworld, particularly sam’s, would look like. i don’t remember him and sam butting heads over command decisions in quite the same way him and elizabeth did at the start (sheppard wanting to go go go, make slapdash decisions, usually in an effort to help people, altho sometimes misguided, particularly in hot zone, vs elizabeth who was often looking towards a less militaristic approach, i.e not trading explosives to the genii, not torturing a POW etc. and who took her time making decisions). but then again, both sam and john are military. so, it’d be interesting to see how sam manages him along with the rest of the team. also, since hes not in a leadership position (no ones counting on him to keep the team together), would he be even more gungho about the self-sacrifice play? or just the same as ever? anyway, enough about john (once i start, i can’t stop, it seems), let’s get into the episodes!!

Episode 1:

“if it works for one jump but then fails, then he can just turn up at atlantis and ask the tau’ri for help again after threatening them lightly to save face.” LMAO truly ba’al’s modus operandi.

and the wraith potentially stealing hyperdrive technology is DEFINITELY something sg teams of all universes and galaxies should team up to put a stop to. a whole new galaxy to feed on?? not to mention earth??? NOT GREAT. the situation definitely calls for earth’s mightiest heroes squared.

also i appreciate a good sneak on an alien ship. especially times 2. and who would partner with who?? so many fun character combos!

Episode 2:

LMFAO OKAY. ronon vs ronon is such a ronon thing that i laughed out loud. both of them would definitely wanna know which one was tougher. also. also. i would love for zelenka and mckay1 to have a science twin moment and mckay2 to get all proprietary and be like “get ur own!”

i can’t imagine rodney would get along all that well with himself so its a good thing the rest of the teams will be there to run interference. and be separated on the ride there bahaha. cam and sheppard would totally fight over who gets to fly the cool spaceship (the teylas look at each other with raised eyebrows of sympathy and respect. both teams require them to pull on their reserves of infinite patience).

OOOO and ending on a CLIFFHANGER and INTRIGUE, QUICKLY, to the next episode!

Episode 3:

u kno, i was thinking earlier, after reading the first episode, what would an interaction between goa’uld and wraith look like? my immediate thought was, they are either gonna join forces to crush the stupid humans or fight because the goa’uld kinda need those humans for indentured servitude and, u kno, living. or, u kno, they would fight just because their ginormous egos clashed. but NEVER did the thought occur to me that a goa’uld might take a wraith as its host for its superior genetic makeup over humans (super strength, jedi mind tricks, telepathy etc.) and this is why ur brain is amazing. and a smart, conniving creature in control of a wraith body…spells trouble. and i didn’t even consider the double healing factor which would make any wraith on par with an uber wraith (that i dont remember ever seeing after the defiant one lol).

also cam naming his todd casper means everything to me. his ability to drop movie/pop culture references no one gets/appreciates is extremely endearing.

another amazing thing about this; sam actually gets to science with mckay and zelenka FOR ONCE. i’m really sad we were deprived this in season 4, like i get sam was the leader of the expedition in that season, and it wasn’t her job to be doing science/where is the time, but u can’t take the science out of the girl, no sir. i just wanted the beautiful mind children to be techno babbling it up, all with a begrudging respect for one another, as everyone stares in awe and confusion.

and cam gets to fly cool spaceships!!!! for leisure! with no one threatening his life! he did not get to do enough flying imo. and the teyla’s definitely deserve meditation time after dealing with double of their rambunctious team. and YES elizabeth deserves to have fUN. vala is the best person to help her with that. and vala and sheppard!!!! being buds!!! ALL I HAVE EVERY WANTED FROM STARGATE! what a fantastic ending to a wonderful series of episodes.

[jaskiersvalley]

Hello! I love your work. Would you ever consider writing about a shapeshifter! Jaskier? 🙇‍♀️

While I already have the shifter AU going, this ask has prompted a very different idea. I have nothing to say for myself and I am so very sorry in advance. This is not what anybody could have possibly asked for but it’s what has happened so...enjoy?

The problem with giving Geralt the one blessing he asked for was that Jaskier missed him. And, damn his heart, Jaskier still cared for Geralt, knew that eventually things would settle between them. It might take Geralt a few years, maybe a couple of decades, he was emotionally dense, but they would travel together again. That didn’t mean Jaskier didn’t want to at least keep tabs on him. So he travelled adjacent to Geralt, far enough away to hear of him but not enough to get underfoot or encounter Geralt. Or so he thought.

As far as performances went, Jaskier had been quite pleased with the evening. He had a tidy sum of coin in his pouch, lute slung on his back and making his way to the inn where he was told he could request a room. The murmurings got to Jaskier before anything else and he was grateful. A witcher was in town. A certain white haired, grumpy as fuck witcher. It would have been generous to say Jaskier panicked. No, he freaked out. Not wanting to encounter Geralt just yet but also missing him somewhat fierce, Jaskier did the only thing that made sense. He was near the stables, likely where Geralt would leave Roach. Who was the next best thing and would understand, Jaskier had chats with her before while Geralt was off fighting some monster or other. So, in a fit of worry, Jaskier did the only thing that made sense. He ran into the stables, found an empty stall and shifted. No doubt Roach would be put in the stall next to him and then they could catch up. She had some quite pithy commentary sometimes, especially about Geralt’s choices.

Only, there was no Roach, no Geralt but the stable-hand had come in and Jaskier was stuck. Especially when it was noted that he was there without any explanation. Words spread quickly about the horse just left in the stable without pay or anything else. Nobody seemed to know where he had come from, and now there were more and more people coming by to look at him and Jaskier couldn’t shift back. It was getting awkward.

“I heard there was a horse without an owner,” an all too familiar voice rumbled and the couple of people eyeing Jaskier up parted. Geralt strode forward and looked over Jaskier with a critical eye, lifting his legs to inspect him. “If nobody comes for him in the morning, I’ll take him. 500 oren.”

Just like that Jaskier was sold to Geralt. Things couldn’t get more awkward.

They absolutely did get more awkward. In the morning, nobody had come forward to claim Jaskier so Geralt handed over a pouch of coin and unbuckled a saddle and other riding bits and bobs from his pack. Too stunned to resist, Jaskier let himself be equipped with it all and he was led out. Geralt swung up on his back and they started their way out of town. All Jaskier could think was that Geralt was really sodding heavy.

Nothing was said until it was dusk, Jaskier was grumbling about Geralt and his lazy ass refusing to walk. They had found a nice little clearing and Geralt tied Jaskier to a tree. The indignity of it all had Jaskier tossing his head, smacking Geralt with his mane.

“Alright Roach, alright,” Geralt murmured. Which. Wait. What?! Jaskier was most definitely not Roach. He needed to know what happened to Roach, his dear girl couldn’t have met an unfortunate end. However, there was no way he could ask without revealing his identity to Geralt and that would only lead to more arguments.

What Jaskier didn’t anticipate was for Geralt to start talking while his dinner cooked over the small fire.

“You’ll get used to the quiet, don’t worry.” An ironic thing to say given that Geralt was breaking the silence. “There was a time it wasn’t like this.” If Jaskier wasn’t mistaken, there was a fond smile on Geralt’s lips. “There was lute music, half hummed lyrics, complaining, so much complaining.”

Suddenly, Jaskier didn’t want to listen anymore. He didn’t want to hear Geralt besmirch his good name to even his horse. Who was, unfortunately, not a horse but the very person Geralt was reminiscing about.

“You would have probably liked him,” Geralt continued, unaware of Jaskier’s conundrum. “Jaskier always loved Roach, he would have probably adored you. Tried to spoil you. He made life better for everyone.”

Oh no. Grealt was not doing this. Jaskier snorted and stomped to try and put an end to it all.

“Definitely would have liked you,” Geralt laughed bitterly. “He was a bit of a dramatic idiot too. I’d heard he was in the town I found you. But by the time I got there, he had disappeared. Wasn’t at the inn he was told he’d have a room at. Maybe he heard I was in the area and ran.” This time, Geralt actually sounded tired and sad. “I can’t really blame him. It’s not like he knows I want to apologise. I wasn’t nice to him.”

Jaskier blew air out through his nostrils heavily and Geralt turned to look at him with a wry uptick of his lips. “Thanks, for judging me but not hating me for it. I do enough of that by myself.”

After that, Jaskier really couldn’t shift and reveal his true nature. This wouldn’t have happened if he had just been honest with Geralt from the start, shown him his true nature. But no, Jaskier had wanted to play human and now he was paying the price. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And fuck again.

The charade went on for three days. Jaskier suffered Geralt on his back in exchange for being talked at. Surprisingly, Geralt really liked to talk to his horse. Mostly it was about hunts of the past, more detailed than he had ever shared with Jaskier in his human form. The topic of Jaskier himself came up more than once, Geralt grumbling about hearing snatches of his songs being murdered by other bards. Finally, the topic of old Roach came up too and Jaskier neighed in laughter. Winter had been cold in Kaer Morhen, vicious and the stable hadn’t held up as well as the witchers had assumed. Roach made more than close friends with Scorpion when the wall separating their stalls crumbled away. So now, she was up in Kaer Morhen, keeping Vesemir company and due to drop a foal a little before winter.

In those three days, Jaskier also waited patiently while Geralt stumbled across a nest of drowners, they outran a warg pack and took out a contract on a kikimora. Nothing Jaskier hadn’t really seen before. He even enjoyed it a little, confident that in his horse form he could run to safety.

Everything unravelled when Geralt returned from the kikimora hunt, a hewn off head dangling from his hand. He approached Jaskier and that was when Jaskier realised what was about to happen. There was no way on earth Geralt was going to tie a dripping, disgusting monster part to Jaskier and sully his beautiful fur.

“Oh no you don’t!” Jaskier growled, shifting into human form and backing away from Geralt. “That is not going anywhere near me.”

Fuck.

They stared at each other, Geralt blinking and frowning.

“I thought I could smell you,” he said dumbly in the end. Which. Okay. Weird as hell to open with that over everything else. But Jaskier could play the game.

“Nice to see you too, Geralt.”

“That too.” Obviously, Geralt had not changed a single bit. Which Jaskier could have deducted without the latest exchange. “If I use a throw to cover you, will you take the kikimora head back to the village? It’s a long way to carry.”

Well then. Jaskier rolled his eyes. It seemed they were not going to have the conversation in that moment. Relenting, he shifted back into horse form and trod on Geralt’s toes in warning.

“You’ve listened to me for the last three days. I’m not repeating myself,” Geralt grumbled. However, he did loop his arms around Jaskier’s neck in a quick hug. Maybe he did find non-human forms easier to interact with. It made Jaskier wonder whether something made Geralt averse to humanity. Who was he kidding? Being a witcher was reason enough, humans treated him like shit. Bumping his head against Geralt’s chest in reply, he started walking, Geralt falling into place beside him.

“Thank you.” The words were quiet but no less heartfelt. “For coming back to me.”

Jaskier found he was rather glad himself.

[spencer-reid-in-a-pool]

It Was You All Along (Part 3)

Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods​ @blackjay04​

Author’s note: This one is a bit short, but I was just too excited to post it! Enjoy the angst~

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

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. I’m not really sure if that is good or bad, but at least the hunt Geralt went on was successful and he made some coin. Now, it was Jaskier’s turn. 

The tavern owner agreed to let Jaskier perform tonight before we head out in the morning. Honestly, I was looking forward to it. Maybe I could clear my head while listening to him sing. 

Geralt and I sat across from each other at a table in the back of the tavern, each of us gripping a mug of ale. Jaskier stood off to the side of the makeshift stage getting his lute ready and adjusting the collar of his doublet. 

“Keep staring like that, and your eyes just might freeze,” Geralt muttered over his ale. 

I jerked myself out of my stupor and turned to the big oaf in front of me. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Geralt.” 

“I’m sure you do.”

I glared at him and turned back to look at Jaskier who was now being announced as the performer for the night. What does Geralt know? Not a damn thing. He’s probably been hit in the head too many times to even remember how to spell his own name. Idiot. 

As Jaskier introduced himself to the crowd, I couldn’t help but notice the gaggle of desperate girls in the very front, pointing and giggling while he spoke. It was like that at every tavern, but this time it rubbed me the wrong way. And I really don’t know why. 

“What a bunch of morons,” I grumbled into my ale as I brought it to my lips. 

I noticed Geralt looking at me over the mug’s rim. 

“You should learn to mind your business, Witcher,” I spat at him. 

“And you should learn how to read your own feelings.”

What would he know about feelings? Nothing. Nothing at all. 

“Piss off, Geralt.” 

I’m not really sure where this anger came from. All I knew was that I was frustrated, and I could feel it bubbling inside me. I almost felt like hitting something. Almost...

But when I looked at Jaskier performing, a smile gracing his lips and his hands strumming his lute, that anger disappeared. It was replaced with another feeling. A happier feeling. But also a sad one. I really couldn’t describe it. I had never felt anything like it before. But I liked it. I think I liked it, at least. It made me feel better, to look at Jaskier. His happiness was contagious, and I wanted more of it. I wanted it for myself. 

As I watched him, I thought back to this evening in the square, when I caught up to him after the dance and had all those thoughts flitting through my mind. Just recalling them made my heart speed up. And as he finished his rendition of “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher,” my heart sank and my thoughts stopped all at once. 

“Oh, gods...”

Geralt glanced at me from the other side of the table with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. My face was on fire as I turned to face the wall. 

“Shut up, Geralt, or I’ll cut your hair in your sleep.”

He laughed quietly to himself, a low rumble erupting from his chest. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. He just knew about it before I did. 

I was in love with Jaskier. 

Said bard moved on to his next song, but I wasn’t really listening. I was staring at the girls that were still fighting for Jaskier’s attention. Is that all it takes? A few brain cells and exposed breasts? Maybe I have more of a chance than I thought I did. 

He shot them a wink as he turned on stage, pulling out all the theatrics for this one. I couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt by it. But he did it everywhere he performed. It was part of his charm. It was part of what I liked about him, I guess. But every other girl liked it too, and that made my heart feel heavy. 

~ 

Jaskier finished his set with a flourish, and he made his way over to us. I was on my second mug of ale and Geralt looked as if he was bored to death. 

Jaskier plopped down next to me, his doublet slung over his arm, leaving him only in his undershirt. The white fabric clung to him, and sweat glistened on his forehead. But he looked very pleased with himself. And his smile took my breath away. 

“So what did you think? Good, yeah?” he asked us as he waived at a server for a drink. 

“It was great!”

He turned to me, his chest still heaving a bit from his heavy breathing. The corners of his lips were turned up in a smile, and he looked down at the drink that was set in front of him. 

“Thank you, love,” were his words to the woman that brought it to him. 

She smiled and left. And I had to keep from glaring at her. 

Geralt cleared his throat and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. A hint of the smirk he gave me earlier was reappearing on his face, and my foot shot out to meet his shin underneath the table in response. If it hurt at all, he gave away nothing. He simply stood and looked down at where we still sat. 

“I’m going to bed. You should too. If you aren’t up on time, I’ll leave without you.” 

And then he was gone. Which meant that it was just me and Jaskier at the table now. Under normal circumstances, this would have been fine. But I was feeling anything but normal at the moment. 

Jaskier turned towards me and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it suddenly, looking up at what seemed to be my head. 

“Oh, your flower crown has already started wilting! I wonder if there’s any way to save it.”

His lithe fingers, so sure of their movements, reached up to my head and gently grasped the crown. As he took it off, the edge of his knuckles gently grazed my forehead, and the contact made me shiver. Thankfully he didn’t notice because he was looking at the flower crown with genuine concern in his eyes. 

“Perhaps you could press the petals in a book to keep them. To remind you of our epic adventures when we are all old and gray!” Jaskier said with a childlike grin. 

His words made me smile too, and I took the crown from him gently, my forehead still tingling where his skin made contact with mine. 

“Perhaps I will,” I murmured quietly. 

It was at that moment that the woman who brought Jaskier his drink earlier approached our table once again. She was very pretty, with her long blonde hair done in a loose braid. She had big doe-like eyes that reflected the soft light of the tavern in their blue irises. 

Jaskier glanced up at the movement next to us and when he realized it was a person, he flashed her a smile. 

“What can I do for you, darling?”

“You’re Jaskier, right?” she asked excitedly. 

“The one and only,” he said with a wink. 

“I just- well, I couldn’t help but notice you tonight. Like really notice you.” As her words left her lips, she leaned over the table, her breast a bit exposed at the top of her dress. 

“I’m done working for the night, and I was wondering if you wanted to...get to know each other a bit.”

I swear I could feel bile rise in my throat as she talked to him. And it only got worse when he placed his hand over hers on the cracked wood of our corner table. 

“All you had to do was ask, love.”

Tears began forming in my eyes and I had to blink rapidly to keep the stinging feeling they brought at bay. The woman giggled and grabbed Jaskier’s hand, pulling him up from his seat. 

As they walked away to what I assumed was her room, Jaskier turned to me with a crooked smile and a glint in his eyes. 

“Don’t wait up for me!” he yelled back at me. 

I sat frozen, clutching the wilting flower crown to my chest to try and bring some sense of comfort to my racing heart. To try and remind myself of the good day I had with my best friend. But it wasn’t working. And long after he left, I was still staring at the spot he had been standing when he gave me his parting words. 

“I won’t.” 

~

I didn’t get much sleep that night. I didn’t think I would. My room was right beside Geralt and Jaskier’s and that was all I could think about. Would he even return to his room? Or would he spend the night with that woman from before? I stared at the ceiling as I thought about all this, gripping the blanket a bit too forcefully. When I realized my knuckles were becoming sore, I released the blanket and got out of bed. I’m not sure where I was going, but I just couldn’t sit still anymore. 

I glanced out the stained window next to the washtub. It was pitch black, and a few stars twinkled in the night. The stables were right below my room, and I could see Roach in her stall. That made me smile a bit. Lily was two stalls down from her, munching on something. I gave a small laugh, though it sounded more like a clicking noise than anything. I wasn’t truly in the mood for laughing. 

Deciding that I needed to move again, I made my way across the room towards the door leading out into the hallway. Maybe I’ll take a walk around to clear my head a bit. As I reached out to grab the door handle, I heard footsteps coming closer. They were heavy and spaced out. Whoever it was walking was not really all there. A drunk perhaps. Maybe I need a drink. That sounds like a good idea...

I cracked the door open to leave, but then I saw who it was stumbling down the hallway. It was Jaskier. Of course it was. 

He was leaned against the wall, stepping here and there. He was clearly drunk, as I thought before. His doublet dragged behind him from where it was clutched in his fist, and his shirt was halfway undone and untucked from his pants. Even in the shadows of the night I could see the dark purple marks blooming along his throat and collarbone. Tears threatened to spill over once more, and I decided to close the door. 

But before I did, I saw that he made it to his room, and he went in. Then I heard voices. Geralt must have still been awake. 

I didn’t really know what I had in mind. All I know is that in a split second, I was on the other side of the room, leaning my ear against the wall that divided me from them. 

Surprisingly, I could hear them talking. But I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying because of my pulse pounding in my ears. Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down, I closed my eyes and began to concentrate. 

“...couldn’t have been any quieter when coming in?”

I heard a scraping sound and a thud. I assume Jaskier sat down in a chair.

“Shut up, Geralt.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” was Geralt’s gruff reply. 

My heartbeat picked up again, causing me to only hear bits and pieces of their conversation that followed. 

“...wouldn’t understand...what do I do?...”

“You want advice?...grow a pair...stop whining...”

“...seeing her was...bad idea...(Y/N) can’t know...don’t want her...”

I decided I had had enough when I felt tears pricking my eyes for what seemed the millionth time that day. My hands met the wall and pushed the rest of me off. He didn’t want to see me? Is that what he was saying? That it was a bad idea to be around me? 

I wasn’t sure if I was more hurt or angry or confused. So I made my way back over to my bed and fell into it with a sigh that felt like I had been holding it in for hours. 

I prayed to whatever god was listening that I could sleep tonight without dreams.