#ah yes because talking about having anxiety magically makes it go away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

Text

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.

Part 1

You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city.

You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him.

It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.

Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.

Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.

His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?

You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun.

“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?”

He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that.

You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.

You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.

He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices.

This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly.

He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.

You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.

So you meet him again.

And again… And again.

You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.

“I guess you could put it like that.”

He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him.

He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby.

The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing.

“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”

“What’s ‘twerking’?”

It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you.

It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes.

Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.

A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.

You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe.

And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.

You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.

You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.

König can’t even keep his eyes in check.

They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.

You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.

Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.

He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over.

König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his.

Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men.

You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore.

It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.

Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.

You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

…

"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.

"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.

"A… A what?"

She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.

When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.

Christ have mercy…

"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"

You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her.

Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.

Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.

"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.

"Did you sleep with him…?"

"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."

Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.

"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"

"Convent," you correct.

"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."

“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”

“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”

"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"

"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."

You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.

"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.

"What?"

Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.

"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.

"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"

"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."

"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."

"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”

You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.

“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”

“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.

“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”

“Yes, but–”

“Mmh. Deep voice?”

“Umm… It’s memorable?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.

You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table.

You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.

Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are.

"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"

The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.

"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"

"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."

"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.

Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...

"Yours now, is he?"

"No, that was… It just slipped."

"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"

"What?! No."

"You have," she insists with a widening smile.

"No. No, I–"

"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"

You feel your lips snap into a thin line.

Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles?

If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good.

"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?"

Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.

"What does that have to do with anything…?"

"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.

You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.

The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared.

This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.

You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.

Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.

You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends.

There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.

Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.

Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.

But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.

You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.

…

The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary.

König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.

Because…

One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours.

It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.

You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”

“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again.

Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.

The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.

I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.

Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.

He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.

You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.

“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.

“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”

“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.

He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.

“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.

“What if I don’t want some other girl?”

His voice is so wickedly gentle too.

You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now.

“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…

“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”

It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.

“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.

“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?”

You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…

“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.

“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…

“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.

“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.

“Are you… Are you leaving then?”

“Soon.”

Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.

You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.

This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts.

“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.

“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”

“That would be nice.”

“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”

“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again.

“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”

You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.

“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…

You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.

“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister.

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x nun!reader #forbidden love #könig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig x you

2K notes · View notes

theshotsheardacrossworlds · 3 months

Text

Cook

Two very awkward wizards flirt and have a heart-to-heart. SFW.

Martha Hylfyst watched the Wizard of Waterdeep at the campfire with great interest, the open book she was holding long forgotten. She had not expected Gale to be the one who assumed the role of camp cook but was glad of it because he’s just that good. Just as good as Aunt Luci, and that’s a very high compliment.

“If you don’t go over there and speak to him, then I will make you, darling.” Astarion teased, walking by the front of Martha’s tent. “I’ll tell him you have your pretty little eyes on him—”

She squeaked, slamming the book shut. “No!” The half-elf stood and placed the book on the chair she was sitting on. “I’ll…talk to him.” Right. Talk to him. Like a person talks to another person. Not like how a silly thirty-year-old, who’s been rejected by numerous suitors, talks to a charming, kind, funny, sweet wizard of great renown.

Astarion giggled as he reached his tent. “This is going to be quite the show!”

Fuck.

What would Da say? “Just be yourself.”

Mum? “Be strong and confident. You are a Hylfyst and a de Fontaine---act like it.”

Aunt Luci? “Follow your heart, sweetie. And make sure there’s nothing in your teeth!”

Pushing her shoulders back, she tried to maintain a confident yet relaxed walk to the campfire. “Smells good, Gale.” She said with a small smile, her golden eyes sparkling.

He glanced upwards and grinned. “Thank you, Martha! Please, come and join me.” Gale watched as she sat next to him, her hands folded in her lap. Just like Mum and Aunt Luci taught me. “I found some spicy sausages among our rations. That, combined with flour from the Grove, eggs, and water, to make a rudimentary pasta, and fresh milk and spices to make a sauce…” His smile grew even wider. “Well, it’s a lovely pasta dish I would make if I were at home. Something delicious that soothes the soul.”

“Sounds like how I cook at home too.”

Stirring the sauce gently, he raised an eyebrow. “A lady of House Hylfyst cooking?” He then winked at her. Oh, he’s teasing me. Well, I’ll show you!

She wrinkled her freckled nose and smirked. “My godmother, Countess Luci Wildheart, taught me. I enjoy it, especially cooking for me and my friend Nadia. I think I mentioned her before, right? We live together in a small house in Baldur’s Gate.” Stop. Rambling.

“Yes! She’s a bard if I remember correctly?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was coming back from one of her gigs when I was…you know…” Oh great now you’ve ruining the mood. Recover! Quickly! Wringing her hands, she felt anxiety bloom in her chest. “Anyways—”

“I’m sorry. Truly.” Gale murmured as he checked to see if the pasta was done cooking. “It must have been so frightening for you, as it was for us all obviously…ah, it’s done! Do you mind giving me a hand?”

Perfect! This will get things back on track. “Of course!”

“I’m going to attempt to strain this as best I can. If you wouldn’t mind minding the sauce and combining it with the pasta, then that would be most helpful.” He set about using a bowl he magic missile’d some holes into earlier to strain the pasta.

Martha smiled to herself. He doesn’t need me to do this. He can easily do it, but he wants me to. And maybe he knows I know this? And is enjoying this little time together as much as I am? And I hope there’s more of this in the future? When he returned with the strained pasta, he never took his eyes off her as she added the sauce and spicy sausage with ease. “Do you approve of your sous chef, Gale?” she whispered, her smile growing wider by the second.

His brown eyes were full of mirth. “I approve of her very much and look forward to hearing her opinion on my made-in-the-frontier pasta.”

After sitting next to each other at dinner (it was so fucking good), Gale asked if they could speak more and took two shortbread biscuits to share. They ended up on a large log by the river. Far enough so the others won’t hear but still not a long walk away in case something happens. “I was wondering if you could share your knowledge on necromancy. I’m most interested…” Upon seeing her expression change to a mixture of shock and fear, he immediately apologized. “Forgive me for my eagerness. It’s simply that I don’t meet too many necromancers in the flesh, as it were. But if it’s not something you wish to discuss, then I would be happy to talk about anything else.”

So he’s interested in that. What on earth made you think he was any different than other power-hungry wizards? Of course he’s not. Martha turned away as she stood, trying desperately to hide the tears forming in her eyes. “You know what, I suddenly feel tired—” He’s just wants what’s in my head, not me. I never should’ve mentioned it, because now everything is ruined.

“Please.”

She froze, still not looking at him.

“If I have offended you in any way, then I most sincerely apologize. I-I will make it up to you, I swear it. I’ll do anything you ask of me. But please, please,” his voice hitched.“Don’t go…unless you truly are tired, then rest.”

Maybe…he’s not like the others. While he wanted more from Mystra, he’s never shown any tendencies towards darker magic. Trust my heart. Trust him. She turned and sat back down, wiping the tears from her golden eyes. “Sorry. Usually when I get asked about necromancy, it’s not for the best of reasons.”

He nodded. Martha thought she saw tears in his eyes. Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh shit. “My dear, that’s very understandable. Gods, Szass Tam comes to mind and other notoriously evil Red Wizards. Not that you are obviously!” Gale buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I’m cocking this right up, aren’t I?”

A smile crept onto her face. “It’s alright. I…do you mind if I share the first time, I realized there was something different about me and my magic?” He lifted his head and nodded enthusiastically. She tentatively offered her hand which he took with a soft smile. “Like you, I’ve been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. One night when I was about five, I saw a boy in my bedroom. He was around my age, maybe a little younger. He asked if we could play for a while, and I said yes. I didn’t think anything of it.” She chuckled. “I found out later that he was the son one of my great-great-uncles who died of flu as a boy. His spirit was still in Hylfyst Manor and just wanted to play. This went on for a few weeks before my parents caught us playing but obviously couldn’t see him. He was scared when he saw them, saw how afraid they were of him. I reached out to touch him and when I did…they could see him.”

Gale’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me that you---as a five-year-old---made a spirit reveal himself? With a touch?!”

She smiled nervously. “Yes?”

“By the gods, how?!?!? How?! Can you still do this?!” He’s not afraid. He’s excited. Very excited. Like how Horace or Scratch gets really excited before I give him a treat.

“I can, though it doesn’t always work. I also can’t explain how I can do it. When it does happen, there’s always some light, which my parents and teachers think is the influence of Selune or Lathander, but who knows?” She shook her head. “Anyways, my parents told him he wasn’t in any trouble and then his spirit moved on. That was the first of my many communions with the dead and helping them along to whatever awaits them next.”

“That’s very kind of you to do.” He said warmly, giving her hand a squeeze.

Martha smiled nervously. Again. Oh my gods, my heart races when he smiles at me like that. “If I can help them, then I will. That’s not to say it’s easy or fun sometimes…but it’s worth it. And before you ask, none of my own studies in necromancy have explained why I’m like this---a freak.” A freak whose own mother thinks she’s useless…no, Mum’s never said that. She just thinks it. I know she does. I’m not a ranger like her. Not as elegant and pretty a lady as her. She’s braver and stronger. She loves the outdoors. Loves hunting. And then there’s me…

Gale shook his head, squeezing her hand again. “You’re not a freak. You were given a gift, from who I cannot say, but a gift nonetheless.” He let go of her hand and slowly touched her freckled cheek. His brown eyes stared into her wide golden ones. “You use this gift, this power bestowed upon you to help others. That’s not freakish at all. In fact, it’s quite admirable.” Something flashed in his eyes---a realization. “Have you ever heard of white necromancers?”

Her brow furrowed. “Hmm, I think there was a reference to that in a book I read years ago, but nothing specific I’m afraid.”

“White necromancers assist the living and the dead---healing mind and body, moving spirits on, and occasionally going into battle against other necromancers. By that definition,” he’s flashing my favorite charming smile. Gods, he’s so handsome. “You’re not a freak. You’re a white necromancer, which is nothing to be ashamed of.”

That’s what it’s always been about, hasn’t it?

Shame.

Shame for having this power.

Shame that in a family of barbarians and rangers, I’m the outlier.

Shame that I won’t live up to my own very high expectations.

She nodded quickly, feeling tears in her eyes. “No. No, it’s not.”

I won’t be ashamed anymore.

#martha hylfyst #martha x gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #pre relationship #plus size tav #wizard tav #necromancer tav #they are SO AWKWARD #but food is love and so is talking about your power over the dead #implied chubby gale #martha “i see dead people” hylfyst

11 notes · View notes

valeriele3 · 8 months

Note

Hihi!

Greetings ~ I'm here to humble ask for a weird request connected to the ask I send earlier. Ehehe.

"what if you Isekai to either CHAU / MDD AU for whole day what will you do?"

Note:

MC could be made as another person / or alternative you

Sorry for the weird request. Hope it's not much too ask. I wanna see what other takes in the AUS. Eheh.

I hope you have a nice day and rng!

Ehehheheeh I wholeheartedly thank you for giving me this chance

Anddd since you put MDD/CH au ofc I picked..Both

Note: Hello this is Val from like idk the future?? (Technically it’ll be past when I post this) I’m so so sorry this took months..! I was very hyped when I got the request but when I actually tried to write everything went ✈️↘️💥

Oh and yeahhh nothing makes sense. I just put whatever stupid thought came to mind and slapped it on there

Warnings: Swearing/Cursing, bad grammar (I literally talk nonstop without breaks in my sentences irl sooo yes. It’s like that whenever I write too) and me being an absolute simp for Ritsu

MDD AU

“Ah..Ahahah..AHAHAHAHHAH! YESSS!”

‘I JUST GOT ISEKAI’D TO ONE OF MY FAVORITE SERIES AHAHAH!’

“Mama who’s that weirdo?”

“No one. Don’t look at her”

“Make sure to pick someone sane in the future okay?”

“Yes mama!”

‘Why do I feel like someone’s talking shit about me..’

“Ritsu~!”

“Ma’am you can’t go inside!”

“Ritsu where are you~?”

“I repeat you cannot go inside ma’am! If you do not listen we will have no choice but to resort to force!”

“Shut up. I’ll kill you”

“That’s it. I apologize in advance ma’am”

“NUH UH HAVE A TASTE OF MY FIST INSTEAD SIR!”

“AHAHAHAHAH NO ONE CAN STOP MEEEE I AM UNBEATABLE BECAUSE I SAID SO!”

“AND BECAUSE I’M LITERALLY THE ONE WRITING EVERYTHING OUT”

“..Su..”

“..tsu..”

“Ugh..Go away..Let me sleep..”

“Hello? Rei? Yeah, I’m with Ritsu in room—”

Slam

“Oh! You’re awake!” (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

“Who’re you?”

“Oh my..Please don’t glare at me like that..It hurts my poor heart” ♪(´ε｀ )

“My name is..Valerie Lee”

“Huh? Did you get a makeover?”

“No..You’re not the Valerie of this world, are you?”

“Ding Ding Ding! Correct! Somebody give this man a prize!”

“Stop playing around. Why’re you here”

“Oh, the answer to that is simple”

“I’m here for you”

“Yeah, I can see that. I’m not dumb” (¬_¬)

“Seriously, what do you want from me?”

“Hmmmm..”

“Spit it out already. Stop wasting my time”

“Ouch. Fine, I want..”

“Your time”

“My time..?” (・・?)

“Mhm!”

“That’s it?”

“Yup!”

“Seriously?” ಠ_ಠ

“Seriously!”

“…”

“..YOU WOKE ME UP JUST FOR THAT?!!?” (•ૅㅁ•)

“Look it’s not just a simple thing okay!?”

“I may look all calm and happy go lucky right now but I’m nervous as heck and my anxiety is not so slowly growing!”

“You do not understand the amount of self restraint I have right now sir!!”

“Because if I didn’t have any self restraint I’d probably be choking and squeezing the life out of you!!”

…

“Okayyyy..I’m calm now!”

“So..Want to hang out for the day? It’ll be my treat” (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

“Sigh..Fine”

“Yay!”

“BUT! Promise you’ll leave me alone after” (¬_¬)

“Aye aye captain! I promise!” ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

“You’re weird”

“I know. I always get called crazy by my own family” _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

“By the way..You said it’ll be your treat but, do you even have the currency of this world?”

“You confirmed earlier that you aren’t from here”

“…”

“Oh..”

“You’re right..” (OvO)

“In fact, I don’t even have yen..Because I don’t even live in Japan..Ahahah..” (´⊙ω⊙`)

Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

“But no worries! I can just create some out of thin air! Becauseeee I’m ✨magical✨”

“How the heck did you manage to say the sparkle emoji in real life” (・・?)

“I told you, I’m ✨magical✨ so obviously it’s ✨magic✨”

“Now that we solved our money problem..Where do you want to go?”

“Mm..Somewhere to sleep peacefully and comfortably”

“Ehh..C’mon, I only have today to enjoy my time with you!”

“Why’d it even have to be today? Couldn’t you pick a different day or just come again?”

“Uhm duh no. This isn’t even my world to begin with y’know”

“I don’t “own” this world”

“Huh”

“But this world literally centers around you. Or well this world centers around the Valerie of this world. The MC”

“The multiple universes. Almost all of those worlds are centered around or on you in some way or another”

“Isn’t that mirror like place owned by you too?” (・・?)

“Hell no. The worlds may be centered on “MC” but that doesn’t mean I own this world or the others.”

“What I mean is, “Valerie Lee” doesn’t own any of them. “Valerie Lee” is simply a spectator, a reader.” A reader that deeply enjoys all the sad and complicated stuff happening bc I like seeing my favs in pain or whatever

“That’s all I am Ritsu. Sooo..Since the author has given me this chance I don’t want to waste it”

“NOW ENOUGH SAD COMPLICATED SOUNDING STUFF! LETS ENJOY LIFE TO THE FULLEST AHAHAHHAHAHA!!”

Pick your ending:

Ending 1: Enjoy a wonderful day with Ritsu

Ending 2: Spend the day accidentally talking about useless stuff and not actually getting to hang out for the day. A.k.a wasted opportunity

CHAU

Note: It’s been so long and I can barely remember anythinggggg hsisnajaka please expect this one to be totally off..My mind can only recall the Kkomas and a bit of Madness mansion but no CHAU .°(ಗдಗ。)°.

“…”

“Who’re you? You’re not my Omae”

“Ahahahah..Uhm..”

“Where’s my Omae?” (๑•ૅㅁ•๑)

“I can explain but only if you let go of your weapon” ( ◠‿◠ )

Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

“Well?”

“..Fine..”

“Now explain or I’ll kill you”

“Sigh..Why are my favorites like this? What’d I do for you guys to glare at me like that when I haven’t even explained the situation” (￣▽￣;)

“Just talk already!”

“Fine fine!”

“Basically, your Omae is somewhere else right now and I’m taking MC’s place for the day. Once the day is over I’ll go back to my world and continue observing from the sidelines”

“Tsk..And?”

“And what?” (・・?)

“Sigh..Why’re you taking Omae’s place for the day? And what do you mean by somewhere? Where exactly?”

“You’re sighing a lot today. You should stop before your luck runs out y’know?”

“Butttt to answer your question or rather, questions..One, the author sent in a request to what I would do if I was in CHAU or MDD au. Two, I don’t know”

“What do you mean you don’t know” (๑•ૅㅁ•๑)

“I said I don’t know. I don’t know what I don’t know. Plus the whole MC is in another place was just created by me for my own convenience. An excuse or explanation I guess”

“You’re really getting on my nerves lady..”

“Fine, let’s say that Omae is in another place right now. How are you so sure my Omae will be back when the day ends?”

“Duh the request said what would I do if I was isekaid into MDD or CHAU for a whole day. That means that I’ll be back to my original world once the day ends”

“…”

“Hey lady..YOU SAID IT’LL ONLY TAKE A DAY! ITS BEEN A FEW MONTHS OF US JUST STARING AT EACH OTHER”

“WHA— DON’T BREAK THE FORTH WALL! PLUS SHE SAID I COULD TAKE MY TIME ON THIS”

“Look..Let’s just pretend that the day hasn’t even started ok?”

“We’ll finish this request and then we’ll go on our separate ways”

“N—”

“AND you can’t say no because I’m the one controlling this whole thing. Like it or not you’ll have to do this”

“Oh Valerie I love love you!!” (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

“Aww I love you too aha ahaha haha” (^з^)-☆

“The end!”

“That was absolutely disgusting. I #${€_¥ hate you”

“Ey, that’s a no no word. No cussing”

“Also, sorry man but that wasn’t the end”

“#%*$!”

“You want money?”

“You #$%*€”

“Ouch..My heart” (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

“We’re getting sidetracked again. Let’s just focus on the ‘story building' nothing more ok?”

“You literally said you control everything so it’s your fault we’re getting sidetracked”

“That’s..True..Oops”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Psstttt! Hey! It’s me, hi I’m th—

It’s been a few months since I received this request and I’ve finally decided to 'finish' it today while in class

Technically it isn’t truly finished since the main part of the CHAU hasn’t even started but my phone’s lagging from all this text sooo yeah, that’s it

I’m so so sorry it took me this long to make. I’ve had like zero motivation whatsoever for quite a few months now so this fic is full of nonsense

The content is literally divided by months. One part was made during this time and the next was made a few months after

I might remake this into something better if I get the time and motivation

#Does this even count as an x reader?? bc it’s literally a self insert of me personally #ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #ritsu sakuma #enstars ritsu #enstars kohaku #kohaku oukawa

10 notes · View notes

cursestothemoon · 3 years

Note

yay for the open requests! I really reallyyyyyy love your Harry's older sister hc, could u pretty pls do more? like their brief life as a family with lily and james, then to the dursleys and then at war, so on. I agree with the anon that did the request, harry does needed a bigger sister❤️

aH I LOVED THESE REQUESTS

YOU GUYS CAN READ THE HEADCANONS THIS ANON IS TALKING ABOUT HERE

ok so this is L O N G i need to add a keep reading tab

alright so let's talk about harry's older sister

so lily and james did not plan you

they were straight out of hogwarts

just having fun

and suddenly lily is having morning sickness and james running into a store to buy a pregnancy test (or whatever the wizard equivalent would be 😗)

james would be so nervous the weeks leading up to your birth

he already knows that you aren't even here yet and there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you

and when you are born

he swears he'd never love anything as much as he loves you

his little girl

this sweet little lump of baby fat that was born with eyes just like his

he'd put his glasses on your little baby face, and he could laugh for hours at the way they just barely sat on your little nose (a miniature version of his)

your chubby little baby hands are his favorite

when you'd plan your hands on his face or wrap your hand around his finger he'd melt

Lily would joke all the time about how she carried the baby yet James is constantly hogging her

I think james would have some serious separation anxiety

Lily would also have trouble leaving you to go do something but she knew that you getting to see other people would be good

james is NOT a fan

and you were a big daddy's girl

"it's going to be alright, darling, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony will take care of you."

and you'd respond with sad baby talk, something along the lines of 'daddy' and 'wanna stay with you' and you'd get all teary eyed

it's a whole dramatic scene

youre crying

james is about to cry

Sirius is quite literally trying to sob silently into his hand because you just look so sAD

and remus and lily are just

😐

because you guys do this eVERY TIME

there was one time james got back into the car with lily after dropping you off and he was unusually quiet until he kinda just whispered out

"It just feels like i'll never have enough time with her, like one day i'll wake up and suddenly she's not mine anymore."

his tone gave Lily the worst chills, his tone and the fact that she felt the same though never voiced it

honestly

i don't think harry was planned either

he kinda just happened

and they were like

you know what, yes.

so you were two when harry was born

and you LOVED your baby brother

he was so small

so cute

and he had your mum's green eyes

from the get go you were very protective of your little brother

james thought it was the cutest thing

ok ive been avoiding it

but we need to talk about October 31 1981

you were upstairs with our mum and harry

james was downstairs cleaning up from dinner

that was when there was a knock on the door

assuming it was peter, uncle wormtail, james was quick to go open the door

grabbing his wand for protection was the last thing on his mind

the thud of his body was loud

he was killed before he could even open his mouth to warn Lily

the door to Harry's nursery flew open and it all happened so fast

there was screaming

bargaining

a sudden flash fo green before Voldemort turned to harry

his cold, pale hand pushed you out of his way

the prophecy had said nothing about you, so he didn't care for what happened to you he just needed to kill harry

which obviously backfired

half the house was blown up

he was gone

harry was crying

and you just wanted your dad

you found your way downstairs, just barely making it down the steps

lily and james had never let you go up or down the steps on your own

only to come face to face with your dad just lying on the ground motionless

his eyes were still open

now i want you guys to think of the lion king

you know the scene where simba finds mufasa's dead body and just lays with it because he doesn't know where else to go

you just wanted any kind of comfort you could find

so with tear streaks going down your face you slayed next to your dad, getting as close as you could, hoping he'd just wake up

sirius is the one who finds you, asleep next to james' body

it was rather rough for sirius

and he could hear harry crying somewhere upstairs

you wake up to uncle padfoot trying to keep in his tears as he takes in the scene before him

you're just glad to see a familiar face

you run over to him, tears freshly falling as you wail about how daddy and mommy won't wake up

you also gently pull james' glasses off his face and keeping them in your small hand

keeping them safe for him later

you knew he didn't like to sleep with his glasses on

eventually hagrid shows up

you guys know the story

but i will say

it takes a lot for you to leave uncle pads and go with this big strange man

youre basically heaving as you beg to stay with sirius

and forcing you off his hip and onto the bike with hagrid was the worst thing he's ever had to do

even for a two year old, youre eyes held such a strong emotion of betrayal

sirius would never forget it

the dursley's were not fond of you and harry

you had james temper and stubbornness

harry was just a 6 month old baby

doing 6 month old baby things

for the first month you'd ask for james, lily, uncle moony, uncle padfoot, even uncle wormtail on a daily basis

until one day petunia just snapped

you had asked about sirius, or as you called him uncle padfoot, and petunia lost it

she started to shout, her hand coming out to strike your cheek as she told you that no one was coming

not now

not ever

you never asked after that

over time you forgot about sirius and remus and peter

you forgot about the song your dad would sing every saturday morning when making breakfast

or the way your mom would hum when she brushed your hair

all lily and james had become were familiar scents and the same pair of eyes you'd see in your dreams (though for a long time you just assumed they were your eyes, they looked enough like yours)

and you grew up always feeling like you were on the wrong side of a billowing curtain

you and harry grew up only having each other

you were very protective of him

and dudley hated it

because you had James art for pranks

and his art for rarely getting caught

unfortunately for you petunia and vernon didn't need evidence to incriminate you

you were often on the receiving end of disciplinary swats and missed meals

and you'd often take harry's punishments for him

you and harry were also forced to share a room

or cupboard

you let him decorate it with all his things (he didn't have many)

and you guys shared a bed up until you got your hogwarts letter

which that was kept very quiet

you got the letter

and petunia and vernon were just glad to be able to send you and your pranks away

you weren't allowed to tell harry

but you did anyway

secretly

you didn't tell him all the details but you told him that you were going to a school far away and you'd be back whenever aunt petunia let you back

going to school was interesting

you didn't know anyone

bUT HAGRID WAS ALSO THERE TO HELP YOU AND BUY YOU YOURE STUFF AND HE BOUGHT YOU YOUR FIRST WAND

you still have james' glasses

you put them on when youre nervous

so youre sitting in the train

first day

you don't know anyone

big round glasses sitting on your nose as you look out the window barely able to see what's going on

james was as blind as a bat

on the train you spend your time reading your new books

absorbing all the material

you were not going to just walk into this new school of mAGIC not knowing aNYTHING

by the time you got there you were at leas base level with most subjects

some were easier to catch onto than others

as long as you didn't let the logical side of your brain do too much work

within the first week you'd find out about your parents

curtesy of older gryffindor kids who knew your last name and were just amazed by the story

oH ALSO YOURE IN GRYFFINDOR

AND WHEN MCGONAGALL READS YOUR NAME SHE GASPS TO HERSELF

BECAUSE

Y/N POTTER

she remembers when james had written to her with the news of Lily's pregnancy with you

and how he was nervous you'd come out just like him and he wouldn't be able to handle you as well as she had, he was asking her for advice

and when you walked up to sit on the chair she nearly dropped her scroll of parchment and pulled you into a hug

you looked just like him

dark hair

pale skin

same eyes and eye shape

and same habit of picking at the skin around your thumb nail when nervous

the hat announcing you were a gryffindor was very overwhelming for her

then she realizes you

are e x a c t l y

like james

and merlin is she tiRED OF THIS SHIT

ok so at this point i am going to direct you to the other headcanon (linked above) if you want a more fred x reader approach

continue here if not

so youre on the quidditch team

and youre a natural

let me tell you

you just have the innate ability

much like james

and at first they had you as a seeker

and you were good

but you excelled as a chaser

i also firmly believed that there was a practice broom that james had carved his name into

or maybe just a ‘J.P.’

that was the broom you'd practice on

even use for games before you got your own broom

ok so

let’s talk your relationship with harry

you made sure you were the one to tell him what happened to your parents

as i said it was your first year when you fond out about what happened

the gryffindor student had told you what they knew

and you went to professor mcgonagall pretty distraught

you were near tears as you practically begged her to just tell you what happened, you wanted the truth

because all your life your aunt and uncle had told you that your parents had been killed in a car accident

needless to say

you didn't want harry to find out that way

but you also knew he was noticing the stares

the whispers

so you told him on the first night

he had already been put into gryffindor and was getting ready for bed when you are up to his dorm

bECAUSE IT’S CANON THAT GIRLS CAN GO UP INTO THE BOYS DORMS AND BOYS CANT GO UP INTO THE GIRLS DORMS AND I WILL CITE THE PARAGRAPH IF ANYONE NEEDS

and you kinda push out ron, neville, and dean

but yeah thats how he finds out all the details and such

ok so you and harry are sUPER CLOSE

and you are very

v e r y

protective of harry

you'd do anything for the kid

wHEN YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THE WHOLE SORCERER’S STONE FIASCO

YOU ARE LIVID

because harry is your baby brother and you love him so much and don't like seeing him hurt 🥺

as harry grows older he gets a bit more

embarrassed

about having you protective over him

and im pretty sure i mentioned this in the last headcanon post

but yeah he’d be like 14 and you'd be 17 and he'd just

“stOP this is so emBARRASSING”

what a little dweeb

ok leTS TALK ABOUT SIRIUS

BECAUSE YOU AND SIRIUS WERE CLOSE WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER

HE WAS UNCLE PADFOOT

YOU LOVED HIM

until your fifth year (harry’ third) when you were told he betrayed your parents and got them killed

youre in the whomping willow when with harry, hermione, and ron

its a lot for both of you

because sirius is seeing his goddaughter who looks just like james, and his the same fire in her eyes as his bestrfriend

his b r o t h e r

and youre seeing the man who was responsible for your parents murder

again

it was A LOT

i have a feeling you, JAMES POTTERS DAUGHTER, would just lunge at him

and youre crying

trying to hit him

hurt him like he hurt you

just anything to bring pain upon this man

and sirius is having flashbacks of when you had ran to him from next to james’ lifeless body

and how different everything had been just days prior to October 31 1981

upon finding out the truth

scammers is now wormtail

peter ‘little bitch ass’ pettigrew

you and harry are immediately forming this connection

this sort of dependency on sirius

within a few minutes

because he is the only living connection you have to your dad

apart from yourselves of course

but eh was the only reminder that james potter was a real man

and lily potter did exist

and there was a time where your family was complete

it never crossed your mind that any more misfortune could strike

not now

not when you finally got back your uncle pads

and then you guys walk into the moonlight, the full moon light

everything flips instantly

you guys are back to square one

i like to think you have a very big part in getting sirius free

so you guys know what happen in between prisoner of azkaban and order of the phoenix

and this headcanon is already getting very long and we haven't even gotten to the wAR YET

so we are doing a little time jump

order of the phoenix

your last year

you are living with sirius in grimmauld place

petunia and vernon kicked you out once you turned 17 after finding out that was the legal age in the wizarding world

you and sirius are close

super close

i mean he is like a father figure to you

he is uncle pads again

oOO AND OK

AFTER FINDING OUT HIS DAD AND HIS BROS 😤

WERE ALL UNREGISTERED ANIMAGI

OBVIOUSLY YOU WANTED TO BE ONE TOO

youre a gazelle

it just makes sense

father figure sirius is not happy when he finds out

uncle pads, however, couldn't be happier

its finally starting to feel like a family again

you and harry have sirius

aLSO REMUS

icon

anyway

everything is falling into place

you and harry are filling the james sized hole in Sirius’ heart (not completely but it’s better)

and he is doing the same for you two

you and harry love your uncle pads

then the battle in the department of mysteries happens

youre there

you see it

you watch as bellatrix hits sirius with a curse

youre not sure which

nothing too serious you hope, and seeing that he’s still standing he should be fine

but then he stumbles

she's stunned him perhaps

and he makes eye contact with you

there was a look so final, so sad

yet so relieved in his eyes as you watched him fall through the veil

remus grabbed harry

tonks held you

if she hadn’t been you knew you would've thrown yourself into the veil after him

its a whirlwind from then on let me tell you

so we know what happens

all that fun stuff

the war hits

harry, hermione, and ron leave

youre left with the weasley’s

it’s hard being away from harry

not knowing if he was ok

if he was even alive

you guys finally reunite at shell cottage

bill calls you the second he sees harry, hermione, ron, and dobby apparate in front of his house

you were quick to pull harry into a bone crushing hug

keen on never letting go

because after all he is still (and always will be) your baby brother

you guys are all at the battle of hogwarts

oK WAIT

YOU REFUSE TO LET HARRY WALK TO HIS DEATH ALONE

ALSO YOUVE FIGURED WHAT HE PLANS ON DOING BUT NEITHER OF YOU HAVE SAID ANYTHING

NOT WANTING TO ACCEPT THAT THIS COULD BE THE LAST TIME YOU GUYS SEE EACH OTHER

AND THE RESURRECTION STONE COMES OUT

BOTH YOU AND HARRY ARE HOLDING ONTO IT

AND SUDDENLY

SIRIUS

REMUS

THERE ALL THERE

EVEN A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR

AND A MAN WHO LOOKS PAINFULLY FAMILIAR

ok so hear me out

i think harry enjoyed looking at pictures of james and lily

but you didnt

you didnt want to see everything that was taken from you

so you weren’t super aware of what your dad actually looked like seeing as you avoided pictures of him and your mom like the plague

but you just knew

and james was standing there

beaming

and he just looked so proud of you and harry

so did lily

she was the first one to say something

“Your father and I are so proud of the both of you”

and you just broke down

james right there with you

he watched as you sobbed, choking on your cries

and he couldn’t do anything about it

he couldn’t hold you or comfort you

he couldn’t be a dad

and it broke him

as much as it could break a dead man

“you’ve grown so beautiful, darling” he'd smile sadly

his voice seemed to bring back all of your memories once lost

“have you always been here, with us?”

“always.”

“typical, your father shows up and everyone forgets about uncle padfoot”

both you and harry laugh at that

but the mood was somber

harry then speaks up

“does it hurt?”

it was the first time either of you had confirmed that you both knew what was going to happen

“dying? not at all, quicker than falling asleep.”

“will you stay with me?”

“until the very end.

james is the one who answers, looking teary eyes at his son

and you know you cant go any further

harry has to do this alone

its quite symbolic actually

the one time you'd let go of the reigns

removed the protective arms you had around your baby brother

he’d die

but you had to do it

so everything goes as planned

harry dies

comes back

we love a resurrecting king

and the war ends

when you got back home from the war

let’s say you are still living at grimmauld place seeing as it was left to you

the first thing you do is go through old photos with harry

any and everything you can get your hands on

you see your mother’s sparkling green eyes

the same eyes your brother had

and your father’s unruly mop of curls

the same wave pattern in your dark hair

everything finally felt right

tags:

@pogueslandia

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@fullofsourgrapes

#harry potter x sister!reader #james potter headcanon #harry potter headcanon #potter!reader

573 notes · View notes

earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

Jealous

| loki x reader | smut |

Loki ignores you and you devise a plan to make him jealous, but you’re in too deep when it backfires.

warnings: spanking, punishment, sex (obviously)

A drink was pushed into your hand, a the fake smile on your face was dazzling. A designer gown that cost more than a car was draping your body, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

Stark’s parties were loud and long and obnoxious. The host of the party was drunk and enthusiastically telling stories of his genius success. Reporters followed around your coworkers like dogs, three of them interrogating you at the moment. You could barely find it in you to give them any attention, your eyes intently resting on your boyfriend. He was leaned against a wall in an all-black suit, drinking champagne with a harrowing scowl on his face. You had to drag him to the party, and he’d left you to stand in a quiet corner as soon as reporters had flocked to you. The public wasn’t fond of Loki, and you knew that. They were unable to forgive him for his attempted takeover, though it had been years. You hated the judgement of the public against Loki, especially when he was accused of corrupting you.

You were America’s darling, the golden girl of the avengers. A late addition to their team, you were adored by everyone for your sweet personality and generally bubbly attitude. The media was scathing when discussing your relationship with Loki, accusing him of manipulating you. They would never be able to understand the love and devotion you had for each other.

However, tonight, he was in a sour mood. You were annoyed that he had abandoned you to fend for yourself against the press, especially after he’d put up such a fight to come in the first place. Your eyes narrowed at him as you made eye contact across the party, and his gaze was hard as he lifted his glass to his lips.

You grew more and more frustrated the more time that passed. You wanted attention, you wanted him by your side, you wanted his hands on you, you wanted him.

“Y/N! How do you feel about Stark’s new weapons line? Have you used any?” A reporter captured your attention. You turned to him, flashing a smile.

“Yes, actually! Stark is a genius as always.” You laid your hand on his arm, giggling at a joke he made. You could feel Loki’s eyes on you, and you could practically feel the jealousy brewing. The reporter blushed and began to stammer, making you smile wider.

“Stark! Come tell them about your weapons!” You called as he passed. He never passed up an opportunity to talk about himself, and he wrapped an arm around your waist with an intoxicated grin. You shot Loki a challenging look, leaning your head on Tony’s shoulder and laughing at something he said.

You slipped out of his grasp, taking the opportunity to get away from the reporters. You walked to the bar, standing Bucky and ordering another cocktail.

“We can feel his jealousy radiating off of him. You’re making him angry.” Bucky warned you, referring to Loki.

“I don’t care. Maybe if he was so jealous he could at least stand by me.” You shrugged, and Bucky seemed uneasy.

“Y/N, you’re playing a dangerous game-”

“Let him be mad if he wants.” You swallowed a generous amount of my drink, and Bucky dropped it, giving up on trying to warn you.

“Dance with me.” You said to Bucky, setting your empty glass down on the bar.

“Y/N, you’re going to really piss him off-”

“You’re dating Steve, I don’t think Loki needs to worry.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Bucky to dance with you. He relaxed as he expertly moved your body along with the music, dipping you low to the ground.

“Excuse me.” You left Bucky after a couple of songs, walking to the restroom.

After drying your hands, you went to fix your hair in the mirror. A startled gasp left your lips as Loki suddenly appeared behind you, wrapping his hand around your throat.

“Loki-?” You were caught off guard, and you were dragged back and pinned to his chest, seeing his green eyes blaze with anger in the mirror.

“What are you playing at, Y/N? Are you trying to make me jealous?” Loki gave you an opportunity to confess and apologize, but you looked back at him, standing your ground.

“I’m just having fun at the party. Just because you pout in the corner doesn’t mean I can’t talk to reporters and dance with a soldier boy.” You taunted him, feeling his grip tighten around your throat.

“Why are you being a brat? Is it because you’re so fucking desperate for my attention, you’ll get it any way you can?” Loki’s voice was dangerously low, but you refused to show your anxiety.

“I can get attention from anyone.” You dug yourself deeper, and Loki bent you forward over the counter.

“Loki!” You gasped, tugging at the magic binds that held your wrists to the faucet. The cold marble was pressed against your chest, the edge of the counter digging into your hips, pushing your ass out.

“Not so bold now?” Loki mocked as you struggled.

“Have you lost your mind? Someone could walk in-”

“Let them. You wanted to flirt and whore around, so let them walk in and see you bent over the counter for me.” He snapped, and your eyes widened. As much as you hated it, the threat made arousal pool between your thighs.

You knew it was an empty threat, Loki would never let anyone see your body. You knew the door was magicked shut, but his words still made warmth spread through your belly.

“You’re mine. You’re mine alone, and I didn’t realize I would have to remind you.” He ran his hands down your sides, and you looked up at him in the mirror, your eyes widened when you saw his suit was gone, and he was standing naked behind you.

“I’m yours.” You breathed, squirming against the counter, trying to arch off the cold stone. His hands went under you, groping your breasts roughly. You squeaked as he rolled your nipples between his fingers through the thin fabric of your dress, and you rested your forehead against the countertop as heat seeped through your panties.

“Loki, I’m-- ah-- I’m sorry!” You shrieked as he pinched roughly, making your back arch.

“I’m going to make you remember that nobody could ever touch you like me or make you feel good.” He hissed in your ear, making you moan eagerly, nodding.

“After I punish you for acting like a brat.” He finished, a yelp leaving your lips as he slapped your ass with force, pain stinging through your skin. He lifted your dress to bunch around your hips, leaving your ass exposed to him.

“A black lace thong, hm?” He snapped it, making you jerk. Soft yelps caught in your throat as he delivered several more slaps to your ass, and you tugged pathetically, failing to free your wrists. You knew he could see your arousal dripping down your thighs, and you blinked away moisture from your eyes, trying to look at him in the mirror.

“Loki, please!” You begged him, wanting him to ease up on your ass and fuck you like you wanted.

“Please, what, Y/N?” He taunted, knowing exactly what. He wanted to hear you say it, to further your embarrassment. He spanked you again when you didn’t answer, and you swallowed your shyness.

“Please, fuck me!” You cried, and he tore off your thong, kicking your legs open wider. You wanted to touch him, and you yanked on your hands, but he didn’t let them go.

“You’re fucking soaked, you dirty girl. Was it from dancing with the soldier?”

“No, no, it’s from you.” Your voice was broken as you struggled to speak.

He dragged his fingers through your folds, and you writhed as he stroked at your opening, avoiding your clit and not entering you. He was making you writhe and beg for him, completely at his mercy.

“Needy girl.” He mocked your pathetic whimpers.

You screamed as he fully entered you in one thrust, his hips connecting with the heated skin of your ass. You choked on moans as he relentlessly snapped his hips, hitting you deep with every thrust. The roughness burned, but pleasure was coursing through your body, making it easier to ignore. You tried to grind against the edge of the counter, needing stimulation on your clit in order to cum.

“No, you will not come. You’ve been a brat and throwing yourselves at other men. So you are going to bend over and take what I give you, and you’re going to hold it.” He ordered, making you sob desperately.

“Please, please, please!” You squealed helplessly and he held you still as he emptied his seed into you, coming inside of your tight heat. You whimpered as he pulled out, using his fingers to push his thick seed back inside of you as it dripped. You were shocked at his willingness to just leave you.

Loki was an incredible lover, always attentive and making sure you came multiple times. The sharp contrast of his dominating roughness left you jarred and unsatisfied.

He knelt down and pressed a kiss to your aching cunt, making you shudder as he stood back up.

“Come on, darling. Stark’s party has another couple hours. You did want me to stand by you for interviews, didn’t you?” Loki hummed, slipping your dress to fall back down over your legs.

“Loki, I don’t know if I can walk.” He laughed, releasing the invisible bonds on your wrists and pulling you up to stand. He held your jaw and pressed a tender kiss to your lips, leaving your head spinning.

“You’re so pretty in this dress, darling. Come on, let’s go enjoy the party.”

You walked out of the bathroom, his hand on your lower back. He murmured affirmations in your ear, and put a drink in your hands, smiling at Bucky and Steve as they chatted with you.

“Y/N, how is everything with your boyfriend, here?” A reporter asked you, and you leaned back into Loki’s chest. You fought off the urge to slip into subspace after the sex, and you gave the reporter a dreamy smile.

“It’s amazing. Loki is wonderful to me, as always.” You answered, looking up at the young god who smiled down at you. You were dazed as you kept up with the party, and there wasn’t a second without Loki’s hands somewhere on your body.

“Loki, please, this party is too much.” You whispered to him. You wanted to go back to the privacy of your suite, and be alone with Loki. He gave into your request, whisking you away back to your bedroom.

“I need you, I need you to make me come. I’m sorry I was a brat.” You babbled softly, and he gently kissed you, slipping the dress off of your shoulders and helping you step out of it.

“I’m going to take care of you darling, relax.” Loki hummed into your neck before laying you down carefully on the bed. He was attentive to the fact he’d destroyed you earlier, and he knelt down between your legs to eat you out instead of putting you through another round of fucking.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you, I just wanted attention!” Your words came out in shaky breaths as he licked through your folds, pulling your clit between his lips.

“My darling, I know. I love you, I’m no longer upset. If you want my attention you need only ask. Now hush and let me make my gorgeous girl feel good.” He said with a kiss to the inside of your thigh. You weaved your fingers into his black hair, rocking against his face as he ate you out, bringing you to the edge within minutes.

“Loki!”

“Let go, darling.” He coaxed you, and the coil in your belly snapped with a scream. You throbbed as you came, and he rode you through it, licking up everything that dripped from your aching center.

“I love you,” He said softly, pulling you to lay in his arms and lulling you to sleep.

#Loki x reader #Loki smut #Loki fluff #Loki imagines #Loki fanfic #Loki #marvel

2K notes · View notes

harfanfare · 3 years

Text

When your Prince Charming arrives || First Years x Reader

What if someone from RSA seemed to be your dreamed lover?

Ace Trappola

It isn’t easy to make Ace seriously worried, about something that wasn’t caused by his friends, wanting to get revenge on his poor—as they defined them—jokes.

From the first sight he knew, that a boy, who “accidentally” bumped into you, was a danger. Some kind of.

He seemed just… too perfect: tall, muscular, with beautiful hair and natural charm, charisma. His clothes complemented the colour of dark as cosmos eyes, and his manners were impeccable. Ace started doubting that even Vil Schoenheit himself could point out anything to him, but he wouldn’t bet on his arm.

With each trait, something was pushing Ace away from the boy more and more.

If he hasn't paid much attention to him, then you definitely did. By the time the day was over, you managed to tell him ten times how he helped you get up—"You fell because of him," Ace replied while rolling his eyes—and characterized the boy verbally, so that no teacher would complain about not enough words on your opinion essay.

“Agh, enough-!” Ace got upset when, even while playing cards, you didn't talk about anyone else but that handsome hero who helped you get up faster than Ace did. He got up from the floor. “Marvel at him in his face! He will certainly want to hear all these compliments in person.”

He stormed out of the room before you could stop him.

His arms were shaking once he got out of the dorm, to the Rose Maze. He emanated with anger and grief; he swore to himself, that he will kick this guy from RSA the time he sees him. Though he wasn't sure... would you be mad at him...?

“Wait, Ace!” you had to run as fast as you could to catch up with the boy and bump hard into him. You hugged his waist tight, worried that he would run away as soon as you loosened your grip. “Sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you.”

Ace turned around to see your eyes. The corners of his mouth quivered before twitched into a weak smile.

"It's alright," he said, but his voice slowly cracking. “The better one wins, right?”

"Of course," you tightened your embrace so that your cheek was pressed tightly against Ace's body. “I won't be with any guy who can't destroy a chandelier with friends.”

The boy took a deep breath before finally wrapping his arms around you.

The warmth he felt from you and the one inside him caused a strange feeling in his stomach and chest. He didn't know exactly what he felt, but he didn't mind at all.

“Out of my advantages, you chose this particular one?” He said, his face showing a mischievous, a bit mocking, but still friendly smile. "I guess it was at the top of such a long list as ‘Advantages of Ace’"

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

Deuce Spade

Deuce didn’t know what feeling was responsible for twisting his stomach, once he saw you and a boy from RSA, introducing him to some NRC classes.

Does his dark, rebellious side finally want to see the light of day?

Not as much as he wanted to hit that boy, he’d rather preferred to take you somewhere far away from him. From everybody.

“Someone's jealous!” Ace laughed when Deuce told him about his worries.

“Again, why did I come to you with this...?” The dark-haired man sighed, placing his hand on his hair and tightening it tightly. "You really think I'm, uh, jealous?"

“And not?” Ace tucked his hair back, laced the fingers of his hands together, and blinked several times. “Oh! My hero!” He said in a squeaky voice. “I will have to give up my lovely Deuce for you because you helped me up. A~aah!”

Deuce snorted and slapped Ace on the forehead. He fell onto the bed. The redhead burst out laughing as he looked at the nervous, sulking Deuce.

“Go Deuce,” he said, sitting down on the bed, still with an amused sparkles in his eyes. “Fight!”

Without waiting for any further words of encouragement, Deuce ran out of the room, towards the school. He went through all important, busier spots in the school before he found you in the cafeteria.

Of course, with that RSA guy.

He felt his body tighten like a tight string as you spotted him between the heads of the other students and waved at him.

"This is Deuce, my boyfriend," you introduced the boy to your dinner companion, and the dark-haired man looked away. So what if you guys were dating for months? The title "boyfriend" always made his heart run wild. “And this is [Boy's Name], a student from RSA.”

"Nice to meet you." Deuce reached out his hand and squeezed the boy's hand. He did it with such force that you could almost hear the crunch of bones and a soft gasp as the student jerked his hand away. “Now, I'm so sorry, but I have to take [Name] with me.”

He felt a twinge of guilt as you walked away, and the RSA boy was massaging his hand. However, now-not-yours prince charming will definitely go to the nurse, and on the way, he will surely run into one of the most beautiful students in NRC. It’s always like that in fairy tales.

You have to fight for your true love, right? They both have to find and keep the love of their lives.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Epel Felmier

Just give him a chance, and he'll definitely try to kick that fop in the knee so hard he won't get up again.

"Fight fire with fire," Vil advised him during their usual dinner at Pomefiore. Even though Epel had said nothing about his worries, Vil could still sense a depressive aura from him that was definitely ‘not beautiful’.

The Pomefiore leader was also not very happy with the arrival of some students from the RSA. But until they were more beautiful than he was—not that anyone like that existed—their presence did not irritate them that much.

Of course, you didn't forget about Epel—you felt so drawn to your new acquaintance's aura that you sometimes lost track of time, but you make sure not to skip your meetings.

He felt like a pawn in a game of chess, not a player. He was attractively dressed, and now standing next to that RSA boy who had attracted your attention all too often. He took you with him a lot, that one day he almost offered to take you with him to the RSA. It would only require some paperwork, wouldn't it?

“[Name]” Epel turned to you, his voice trembling with anxiety and anger. He took a deep breath but didn't feel any cooling down. “The final decision will always be yours. But I want to say something about it here.” He pointed at the visitor and glared at him.

He felt a sudden need to straighten his hair and his clothes as silence fell around him. All the witnesses waited for his next move, and even though no one was saying anything, he felt like he was the new hot topic of gossips.

He went over to you and locked you in a hug as if he didn't want to watch all those onlookers.

"I know you may not believe me, but I really am not sure if he can bring you the happiness you expect," he blushed here. “I-I mean… I don't know if I can offer you a life only filled with happiness you want, but… I will try… So, uh, please don't go with him…!”

“Huh? There's no way I'm going with him,” you said, tearing away from him. "I'm addicted to apples and a certain apple boy, and I won't survive without this combination."

Epel breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his cheeks flush with shame, and memories of words that even sounded too serious for him.

Even though he felt terrible in this elegant garment, he couldn't think of it as his feelings exploded in his body.

Ah, yes. He couldn't want to love anyone else that much.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Jack Howl

Jack never wanted to stop at anything other than "true love".

When you two started dating, he saw no other way than planning his future with you... But this RSA guy was never included in your plans.

"He's joining us," you told your new friend, pointing at Jack. He had his arms crossed and he was at least a head taller than the boy, so the boy had to raise his chin to see Jack's ears. “He offered to help us with cleaning.”

"Ah, yes," [Boy's Name] cleared his throat, trying to remain indifferent. He felt overwhelmed by Jack's presence and Jack made no effort to make it easier for him. Because what was he supposed to do? Squat down so that he doesn't feel trapped like surrounded by tall rocks? "We'll definitely need someone strong."

Everything went very agile and neat.

Even if you and the RSA student previously thought it would take a long, long time, in half an hour you managed to do more than you were allotted to. Maybe it's because your loved one didn't allow too long conversations between you and [Boy's Name]?

It would certainly have been hours if the two of you were left for each other. Ideally, a lot of time to make another appointment, exchange phone numbers, cancel your joint vacation plans with Jack and change your school, right?

“Thank you for your hard work” you put the broom in the storage box. Cleaning with magic was definitely simpler and easier, but as long as you can clean, magic can feel a little sloppy while comparing the cleanliness of rooms.

"Thank you for your hard work," [Boy's Name] replied, dusting his hands of the fluff. "Maybe... you'd like to go together, just the two of us," he stressed the last words, "to the cafe?”

"I'm sorry," you smiled apologetically. You looked at Jack who was just coming back and started walking towards him with a smile on your face. “You may not see it, but this one needs a daily dose of hugs because later he will be very sad.”

Jack silently denied as he turned his head to the side out of intimidation as you hugged him tightly.

… For moments like this, the existence of people like [Boy's Name] is needed.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Sebek Zigvolt

“We need your assistance, [Name]” just after taking the left corridor, Sebek appeared in front of you and a student from RSA. The green-haired man had a stoic expression and his hands were behind his back, what made him seem much more composed than he thought himself. There was so much going on in his head that it would be easier to talk about what he wasn't thinking about. “It's urgent.”

Without further ado, he grabbed your wrist, knocking the RSA student's hand off your shoulder. He gave him a frightening look before he turned on his heels and you and you walked far, far away from this place.

"Hey, Sebek," you broke the silence that had been with you since you stepped out into the uncrowded corridor. “Something happened?”

“What do you mean?” He replied in a gruff voice and picked up the pace.

"For example," you panted, trying to keep up with him, "you're almost crushing my hand."

As if on cue, Sebek immediately let you go, doing it as quickly as if he had touched hot coal. With a surprised look, he glanced at your wrist, which turned slightly red from his tight grip.

"Ah, uh, forgive me," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "I still feel sick to see that human from the Royal Sword Academy."

“You mean [Boy’s Name]?” you asked, and Sebek made a face at his name. For him, this boy will always be "human" in the worst tone and sense of the word. "Some have described him as ‘so sweet that he is so bland’”

“It suits him.”

“You don't like him too? Too cute by Diasomnia standards?” you guessed jokingly. “Or were you jealous, hehe?”

“T-that's not the point!” He growled, feeling his face flush red. You looked at him in shock, now sure, you guessed it, and Sebek felt even more exposed by it. "It's just that this human looked at you so... so strange! I didn’t not like this.”

"There is a way," you said, smiling frivolously at him. “You can invite me to tea and vice versa, and then we will not see him anymore.”

446 notes · View notes

innaminitus · 3 years

Text

Gingerbreads

Pairing: George x reader x Fred

Request: WEASLEY TWINS CHRISTMAS SMUT YES PLEAASE where they both like the reader but like make a deal that it’s either both of them for her or none of them? THANK YOU

Warnings: smut, no twincest

Word count: 2671

A/N: BIG NOTE: if you are not okay with this kind of fic, you are free to not read it. there is plenty of similar fics all over tumblr, you can avoid them, too.

first fic from my Christmas at Hogwarts series! Feel free to send requests!

The hallways were filled with candles and glittery chains, on every corner there was a Christmas tree, decorated with all kinds of ornaments, gingerbreads and dried oranges, filling the air with the specific scent of holidays.

Disgusting.

You hated the so called ‘holiday spirit’ and basically everything that involved anything associated with Christmas. It wasn’t your fault, really. You remembered times when you actually quite liked Christmas. Not much of it you remembered, though, since you were just a small child when it all fell apart. It was Christmas, after all, when your father murdered your mother right in front of you. Cinnamon and oranges only made you anxious now.

Suddenly someone bumped into you from behind.

“Hey, Portkey!” The Weasley twins blocked your view and both walked backwards in order to see you.

“Stop calling me that…” You furrowed at the nickname, but couldn’t help but to smile.

You got the nickname after the circumstances in which you met the twins.

You were scrubbing the cauldrons in Snape’s office as your detention when the door opened and Filch jumped on his chair in which he has been snoring for at least half an hour now. Snape stormed through the door, dragging two boys by their collars. You saw them before, the famous Weasley twins, the jokers of Hogwarts.

“Messrs. Weasley will help Miss Y/L/N clean the cauldrons. I expect them to be clean enough to see my own reflection.”

“Of course, professor!” Filch nodded his head. “I’ll make sure they will!”

But despite what he said, right after Snape left Filch sat back on his chair and started snoring once again. Fred or George laughed at him and grabbed one of the sponges you were using to clean one of the cauldrons from something thick and sticky.

“I’m Fred” one of them said “and this is George.” He pointed at his twin who cringed at the sight of dirty cauldrons.

“I’m Y/N,” you murmured without taking your eyes off a particularly dirty place.

“And how did you end up here?”

You smirked and looked up.

“I turned Filch’s mop into a portkey. He ended up on the roof every time he touched it.”

They both laughed at your words.

“Brillaint!” said George. At least you thought it was George. “We gave the whole first year Fainting Fancies.”

“Only to test them, of course.”

“But Granger ruined the fun.”

You stopped scrubbing for a second and looked at them with dismay.

“What on earth are Fainting Fancies?” you asked, not sure if you actually want to know the answer.

“Ah!” Fred straightened, obviously very proud of himself. “Our invention! We are working on sweets that make you ill.”

“Sweets that make me ill?” You raised your eyebrow.

“Exactly. You take one and have, in example, instant fever. Perfect before an exam you forgot about.”

“You guys are really something else.”

It was in the middle of September. You have become quite inseparable ever since, the jokes and hours of detention really brought you together.

“Ready to leave for Christmas?” asked Fred, almost tripping over an old rug.

You dragged his arm and forced him to walk next to you, afraid he might actually fall next time. George also joined your side.

“I’m not leaving. I always spend Christmas here.”

“Well, actually that makes sense. I wouldn’t like to spend Christmas with a Slytherin either,” Fred laughed, but George stormed him with sight. “What?”

You only talked to George about what happened to your family. One night you were changing the lenses in telescopes in Astronomy Tower, so instead of stars they would show a giant eye of a person who would use them and ended up looking at the night sky filled with dark clouds. You were talking about everything and nothing, and from word to word you ended up confessing it to him. How your father killed your mother, because she wouldn’t join him as a Death Eater. How you run away through the back door of your house and, swallowing tears, stormed to your neighbors. How the Aurors would take your father to the Azkaban and leave you at an orphanage. How no one would adopt you.

“It’s just… Celebrating Christmas in an orphanage is never fun. I much prefer it here than there.”

Fred’s smile fainted. “I’m- I’m sorry, Y/N, I had no idea.”

“That’s fine.” You waved your hand at him. “You couldn’t know.”

He looked at his twin, they exchanged looks that seemed to say more than any word could.

“Alright, that’s it,” George said. “You have to come with us for Christmas.”

You shook your head with a faint smile. “It’s alright, boys. I’m fine on my own, really.”

“Well, we’re not.” Fred stopped, blocking your way up the corridor. “That’s it, you’re coming with us. I already told mom you would.”

You furrowed. “No, you didn’t.”

“But I will, so you better go pack yourself.”

You sighed. Would it really be so bad? Would you go down memory lane and get fifteen panic attacks by the time you step through the door of their home or would you finally soothe the horror you’ve been living in for past twelve years? There was only one way to find out.

“Alright. I’ll go.”

***

You were nervous during the whole train ride, and now you felt as if you were about to jump from your own skin because of anxiety. With the rest of the Weasley siblings and, of course, the one and only Harry Potter you were waiting outside the King’s Cross station for Mr. Weasley, who was going to pick you up. In a car, they said. You couldn’t possibly imagine how exactly you would fit in a car with all the baggage, but magic surprised you way too many times for you to still question everything. This time it was no different – although Mr. Weasley parked a simple black car, he supposedly got from the Ministry (it had something to do with Potter, but you didn’t ask too many questions) inside it was as big as a van. Every single one of you could fit inside, and you still had plenty of room left. They all chattered and laughed during the way, but you were too stressed to even listen to them. You regretted your decision already. You should be at Hogwarts, in your dorm room, alone, reading a book and drinking unholy amount of hot chocolate with marshmallows. The elves would always bring you some food and this perfect beverage since you never joined the rest of the students which stayed as well. But it was too late now.

The car stopped before an old, weirdly crooked house which looked like a patchwork blanket you had when you were little. Somehow it made you feel warm inside.

You got out right after Ginny, with your bag in hand, unsure what to do. You locked your eyes on flying lights around the roof of the house. Could it be fairies? Or just enchanted string of plain lights?

All of the sudden you felt heavy arm around your shoulders. “Hey, Portkey, you alright?” Fred asked, his sight following yours. “Yeah, I know it’s not much, but–“

“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, smiling.

His face brightened and you noticed sparkles in his eyes. Pretty.

“Go on, lovebirds!” Ginny waved at you and you noticed that it was now only you and Fred standing outside. You blushed suddenly and hurried inside.

“Oh, hello, dear!” Mrs. Weasley smiled at you and grabbed your arms, squeezing them lightly. A big warm smile bloomed on her face. “You must be Y/N! How lovely to finally meet you, I’m so glad you’ll spend holidays with us!”

“Thank you for having me.” You smiled back. This woman just greeted you like an old family friend, not an orphan she sees for the first time in her life. It was… oddly nice.

***

You were sitting on a sofa, your knees under your chin, staring blindly at the yule tree, your sight blurred to the point where you only saw points of colorful light. The dinner was wonderful. Mrs. Weasley asked George in a letter what your favorite food was, and of course made it just for you. She also made sure there was no scent of gingerbread spice. It was just a little too much for you.

“You’re not asleep?” Someone’s voice interrupted your mindless procrastinating.

You blinked and turned your head to look at George walking down the stairs.

“Not yet… I’m a little overwhelmed. Don’t mind me.”

He sat next to you. The sofa was quite small, that’s why you put your legs down, and now his thigh was touching yours.

“I know my mum can be… intense. To say the least, but she means well.”

“I know that, and she’s lovely, really, it’s just… I don’t know. A lot to process for me. I haven’t had real Christmas since I was a kid. And you are all trying to make me feel welcome…” You turned your head from him, suddenly ashamed. “I feel like I don’t deserve any of it.”

A second passed, then another, and you felt his warm fingers under your chin. He gently turned your face back to him.

“You deserve everything, Y/N.” He moved so close to you that for a second you were sure he was going to kiss you, but he hesitated mere millimeters from your lips. Hotness flushed your cheeks. He smelled like pine tree and suddenly you decided it was now your favorite scent. You waited for a second that felt like an hour, and slightly moved away in the same moment he moved forward. A small gasp escaped your lips, he leaned even more, undaunted, and kissed you gently. No tongue, not even opened mouth, just lips touching lips. It was a long kiss, though, and when he moved away you felt uncomfortable chill on your mouth.

“George–“

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t–“

“No,” you interrupted. “Do it again. Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His hand landed on the back of your neck, he pulled you to him, and butterflies erupted in your stomach. Enough with the gentleness, he was needy, as if he’s been waiting for your lips his whole life. His other hand was on your thigh, he was turning you more towards him as his tongue slid into your mouth.

“Well, well, well.”

You parted immediately, somehow ashamed. Fred slowly walked down the stairs, a hint of smile on his face. “What do we have here?” He stood before you, hands crossed. “I thought we had a deal, Georgie.” Wait, what? “It’s either both of us or none of us.”

You blinked once, then twice, but couldn’t understand the situation. You looked at George, hoping that maybe he would make it clearer.

“I know, I know,” he sighed “but I couldn’t help myself.”

Your heart missed a beat, but not in a pleasant way. Were they… making a bet?

“Can any of you tell me what the hell are you talking about?” you asked, lovely moment from just a mere minute ago long gone.

George rubbed the back of his head and exchanged looks with Fred. They were doing it again, communicating without words.

He sighed. “We– we both like you, okay? And we agreed that none of us will be with you… unless the other one would also be involved.”

You swallowed hard. Did he mean… to be with them both? At the same time? It seemed crazy but… you liked them, too. They were both handsome, obviously. Would it be so bad?

“Okay,” you said, the steadiness of your voice surprising you. “We can– we can try.”

They seemed as surprised as you were, looking at each other once more.

Fred was the first to speak, after he cleared his throat. “Then maybe… let’s go to our room?”

You nodded and followed him up the stairs, feeling the warmth of George’s body behind you.

It was oddly arousing. You had to be quiet, to not wake anyone. You knew you’d have to be quiet later when… When what exactly? Were you going to have sex? Or was it just your hope?

You entered the twins’ room, bathed in moonlight. It smelled like pine here as well…

Suddenly a hand was on the back of your neck, Fred’s tongue first, a split second before his needy lips landed on yours. You didn’t think, you didn’t wait, you gave back every kiss, your tongue next to his. While his fingers were tangled in your hair another set of hands played with skin under the hem of your shirt, bolder with each passing moment. He traced the curves of your body, shamelessly traveled up, and up, his soft fingers caressed the side of your breasts only to finally land on your hardened nipples. You moaned in Fred’s mouth at which he bit your lower lip.

“You like how he touches you, huh?” His voice no more than a whisper, sent shivers down your body. “Wait till I touch you.”

George rolled your nipples in between his fingers, but soon his hands were gone, because Fred lifted you up. They seemed to have one mind, what one thought the other acted. George sat on one of the beds, Fred seated you between his brother’s legs. His fingers hooked on your pajama pants and your panties, but before he took them off he took a look at you, one eyebrow raised in silent question. You could go back now, they wouldn’t blame you. Only… you didn’t exactly want to go back. You lifted your hips, your answer just as silent as his. He grinned and slid your clothes down your legs. George gripped your shirt and soon it was also gone, but you weren’t cold. You had two bodies to warm yourself and you were gladly going to use them.

George’s soft lips traced the curve of your neck while Fred was watching your arousal grow under his brother’s touch. His hands slowly parted your thighs, showing your already pulsating pussy. His twin’s fingers were kneading your breasts and mercilessly pinching your nipples while his mouth landed on yours, kissing you passionately.

He caught you by surprise, really. Almost making you jump when you felt warm tongue spreading your folds, surprise quickly turning to pleasure when Fred’s tongue started to, gently at first, play with your dripping pussy. Oh, but he was impatient. Soon you were a moaning as he was sucking on your clit and slowly pushing one finger inside of you. George wasn’t planning on being any worse than his brother – his skillful fingers could probably make you come just by playing with your nipples and soon you were biting your lips almost till they bled, only to not moan their names.

The pleasure was unbelievable. Feeling of two bodies against you, flicks of Fred’s tongue and moves of George’s fingers and his lips on yours – it was all too much to bear, too much for one person to experience. And you found yourself lost in this pleasure when Fred joined another finger deep in your pussy. Your muscles clenched on him, he started sucking on your clit, George’s fingers pinched hard and all of the sudden you were almost knocked out by the most intensive orgasm you’re ever had.

They gave you a moment to come down from the high and slowly started to undress when you suddenly heard a knock on the door.

“Can you wrap it up?” You heard Ginny’s whisper. “Mom asked me twice already where you are, Y/N, I’m running out of excuses.”

You got all red and slapped your hand over your mouth, looking at the twins who tried very hard not to laugh. Fred handed you your clothes and George leaned to your ear “We’ll finish it tomorrow.” A shiver went down your spine. Well, now you’ve had new Christmas memory to hold onto.

#george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred weasley x you #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins x you #george weasley smut #fred weasley smut

1K notes · View notes

littlemessyjessi · 2 years

Text

Chapter Twelve: Back to Me: Jeon Jungkook

Yandere. Plus size

Jungkook felt completely at peace as he sat around with family celebrating the holiday.

A program played in the the background as he sat beside his mother.

His father was in the kitchen being charmed by Jessie as she had convinced him to make Christmas cookies with her.

Nothing new there.

He had always been enchanted by her, even when she was a child.

She had that effect on people even if she didnt seem to think so.

People were naturally drawn to her which, in truth, did cause some anxiety in Jungkook from time to time as he feared that she'd be taken away from him.

But he was working on that.

However, here, in the comfort of his family's home, she felt completely at ease.

She seemed to fit back in as naturally as she did when they were children.

"Jungkook-ah has been showed me your YouTube channel." His father said. "I've really been enjoying your videos. Very talented."

Jungkook watched as she flushed under his praise and thanked him profusely.

However, it was his turn to fluster when she spoke again.

"You know, you're actually the reason that I started pursuing art more." She said. "I dont know if you remember but you gave me a paint kit on my birthday, just before we had to move and showed me how to paint a sunset and blend the colors. I just remember thinking it was like watching magic. I was completely devoted after that."

His mother laughed quietly beside him at the two of them.

"Eomma?" He asked curiously.

"It's nothing." She said with a shake of her head. "It's just- well, your father loves you and your brother both very much. But I know in his heart, he always wanted a daughter as well. I could see it when the two of you were small and she would come home with you after school. We talked about having another baby again after you, to maybe try for a girl. But it just didnt happen. I just think that he is very happy to see Jessie again." She said. "And I think maybe, since her father has passed, she is happy to see him again as well."

Jungkook nodded, a look of fondness on his features.

"They seem happy, Eomma." He said before turning to her. "I am happy. So many people I love are with me."

She leveled him with a certain look.

"You are in love, aren't you?" She said. "I can tell."

"How?" He asked.

She smiled, "Because you have the same look in your eyes that your father has when he looks at me."

Jungkook was quiet as a smile spread across his face.

She pressed a kiss to his hair before joining the two in the kitchen.

She passed a hand through her husband's hair before telling Jessie to take a break for a while.

"Go and keep my son company for a bit." She teased. "Before he begins to pout at the lack of attention. Trust me. I know how these men get."

Jessie had laughed and made her way back to Jungkook, leaving the loving couple to peacefully decorate the the remaining cookies.

Jungkook smiled as she approached, arms opening in welcome.

She crashed onto the couch beside him, content to let him snuggle her into his side.

"You know." She said lacing their fingers together. "If your father is anything to judge by and that's what your future looks like, then I am going to be very happy. "

He barely contained his excitement at the fact that she was eluding to the fact that he was her future.

Instead he chose to tease her.

"Jagi... do you have a crush on my dad?" He said.

She shrugged, shamelessly, "Be thankful that you have good genes. You look like your dad and he is very handsome. "

"I think I know why you befriended me now." He said narrowing his eyes and tickling her. "It was all a ploy to get to my dad."

She giggled, "Yes, the six year old girl with pigtails was playing the long game for her best friend's father. What an evil little mastermind. I've been found out. No one can fool you, oh great and powerful Jeon Jungkook."

He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm.

"Now if you'll excuse me." She said. "I need to pee. Since you so rudely decided to tickle me after you just saw me drink three hot chocolates. "

He let her go but not without discreetly pinching her butt and offering a cheeky grin in the process.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"How dare you?" She asked. "Right in front of-"

"Oh, sweetheart, please. We were much worse and my parents saw a lot more than a little pinch." His mother spoke from the table.

Both of the men's ears turned bright red at being called out all while Junghyun laughed his ass off.

"I-" Jessie said and cleared her throat. "I was gonna say right in front of the cookies. I didnt actually realize you had seen. I, oh my- excuse me"

The lot of them couldnt contain their giggles as she scampered away to the restroom.

Jungkook followed after her like a puppy... much to his mother's amusement.

She gestured after them and gave her husband a pointed look.

"Like father, like son." She said.

"Jagiya..." he groaned. "And besides you were the one who kissed me first."

She shrugged, "It worked."

Down the hall, the door was just about to close when a tattooed hand caught it just in time.

"Ugh." Jessie groaned making Jungkook snicker. "You know I wasn't kidding when I said I had to pee."

"Let me in there with you. " he said.

"Ew." She said wrinkling her nose. "Boy, no. Gross."

"I just want a kiss." He said trying to weasel his way in.

"Well you gotta wait." She said.

"I can't. I'm going through withdrawals. Im a mess without it." He whined.

"There's about to BE a mess if you don't let me void my bladder in peace ." She said.

He jammed his head in the door frame, grinning mischievously at her.

"Bold of you to assume that I won't just shove you out and slam the door in your face. " she said.

"Bold of you to assume you could." He smirked.

She narrowed her eyes at him again.

"I should tell your mother. " she said.

"She wouldn't be surprised. " he shrugged.

"Fine I'll your father." She said.

"I'm just like him." He said.

"Exactly. " she smirked. "Which means I could very likely have him wrapped around my finger. "

Jungkook gasped, caught in shock and amusement.

She seized her chance, hand shoving him out and locking the door in his face.

He laughed, "That was cruel, baby."

"The world is cruel, Jungkookie. A cold, hard, cruel place. Not unlike the floor where you will be sleeping tonight if you do not let me pee in peace." She said.

He laughed, head shaking in amusement, before turning and heading back the way he'd came.

However, his mother caught him by surprise as he rounded the corner.

"Marry that one, Jungkook-ah. " she said.

He grinned, "That's the plan, Eomma."

"Oh?" She asked.

"Not now, of course." He shrugged. "But someday. When she's ready."

"And you?" She asked.

"I'm ready whenever she's ready." He said.

She laughed, "You were ready when you were six years old and there was this wild little girl telling you that you hadn't lived until you'd had biscuits and chocolate gravy. And that she would not stand for this injustice."

He smiled at the memory.

"I had no idea what she was saying at the time but she sounded like it was important so I just went with it." He admitted. "I had no idea she would bring it to school the next morning."

"I think you fell in love right then." She teased her son. "I know you. The way to your heart has always been through your stomach."

"And fresh laundry."

The two of them looked to see Jessie making her way to them.

"I washed everything in his apartment the other day and I thought he was gonna propose." She teased.

Jungkook shared a secret look with his mother before he smirked and tossed his arm around Jessie's shoulders.

"I just know wifey material when I see it."

❤❤❤

Hey loves! Thanks for checking out my work! I hope you enjoyed it! If you did please be sure to let me know in the comments! I love hearing from you! It makes my day to know what you think!

If you want to read more of my work, check out the Navi link in my bio! All of my kpop content is on Masterlist 2.0! Happy reading!

Love, K

@thickemadame @frankie2902 @pleasantdreamqueen @blackirisposts @therealmrshale @thegreatirene @angelus320 @alanlizzingtonshore @disneymarina @sullybot @georgiagrl1990 @whenallsaidanddone @inumorph @congurl @qtmeryr @alisoncdariel @amethyst09 @kalliravenne @witchygagirl @gruffle1 @writtenbywolfie @leah-halliwell92 @silent-browser @minxyvixen @queenlexusloverofbts @criminalyetminimal @plus-size-reader @owenniasstars @adventuresofnight @halobaby @tacobacoyeet @glassesandthunderthighs @accioxtina @poopypantsmcgee666-blog @teenagesublimefan @lyn-g @milkshakelol @sunnysidesblog @speedyhandsbonkpalace @mwitsmejk @pinkcherrybombs

#fic: back to me #yandere jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #plus size #yandere #yandere jungkook #yandere bts

30 notes · View notes

sugas-sweetheart · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I request headcannons for a soulmate AU for Bakugo and Sero with a fem reader? An AU where everyone has a timer on their wrist counting down to the second they meet their soulmate? Thank you!

A/N: ahh yes! I love a soulmate au 🥰 and I’m always up for Sero content - I’m sorry that it’s been a few months since this was requested but I’m working through requests before I go back to irl school! proof reading is for cowards apparently bc i felt like just posting these lmao

Countdowns

Bakugou Katsuki

I feel like people would expect Bakugou to not care much about the timer on his wrist but really it plagues his mind. In a good way, and sometimes a bad way.

He checks it constantly when he’s alone in his room studying or about to go to sleep, and on sleepless nights

He sneaks a look at it during class most days

When he was young he figured out what day the timer would run out and now that it’s reached a few weeks away he’s scared

But he’s also very excited.

Having strong attachments sometimes gave heroes strength, but it would also be a weakness and his biggest fear was hurting his soulmate due to his occupation of choice.

What if they were taken as a hostage? they would take the one person that he’s been excited to meet for years and use that attachment against him.

It would give him motivation to work, he would want to be able to protect you, if you ever needed it

Ahe timer was ticking and his anxieties and worries were still growing. He was still a teenager, he was still in the hero course.

Would his soulmate like heroes? Is he going to live an unconventional life and have to betray his soulmate because they’re a villain? Maybe they were a hero as well? Were you older? Younger?

His morning started out okay, a little more annoying than usual.

His friends procrastination and antics led to him yelling at them to not be late

And in a slightly annoyed mood he left before them to get to class early.

He had almost forgotten that today would be the day he meets his soulmate in his rush but the thought still lingered in the back of his mind.

Adjusting his school uniform to see his timer, his eyes widened at the mere seconds that were left and ticking down quickly

He swore that he hadn’t seen anyone else in the corridor with him before he looked down so who was he meant to be meeting?

Unknown to the boy with the explosion quirk, you had just come out of one of the rooms along the corridor after being given directions to your new classroom, 2B, where one of your new classmates, Kendo, would show you to your dorm and around the school’s facilities.

Your first reaction was to think that Kendo might be your soulmate, depending on how long the directions would take for you to follow.

But in your clouded mind of watching the timer tick down whilst trying to memorise the directions given to you, you didn’t notice the blonde that was also walking towards you.

A fairly harsh force knocked you back and made you stop in the corridor, scared and excited to look up because your timer had just glowed slightly as it faded back to black with only zeros left.

Bakugou hesitated to look up for a few awkward seconds before clearing his throat and directing his eyes back up from his wrist to see who his soulmate really was.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before? I’m Bakugou Katsuki, from class 2A”

You looked up to meet his eyes and give the blonde in front of you a look over, he was cute and seemed slightly flustered.

“I’m new, transferring into 2B today, I guess I’ll see you around, Bakugou”

“Do I even get to know the name of my soulmate?”

“Meet me at lunch and maybe you can find out, soulmate”

Sero Hanta

Sero would be very excited from when he was young

He would constantly check his timer as if it would magically run out quicker the more he watched it, because time definitely worked like that

He had dreamt about it since he was a kid, finally having the one, someone who would love him forever because he’s him and no one else.

He never thought about if you were to be a villain, he’d find a way to work around it either way, to make you two work, you were meant for each other after all.

Many of his friends had found their soulmates during high school, but he was set to meet his during his first couple years as a professional hero.

Being a young hero, aged 20, and only being out of UA’s hero course for just over a year, he had to work hard to work his way up until he made a large enough name for himself to set up his own agency, or to open one with his group of friends.

Knowing that he was destined to meet his soulmate during his hero work meant that he had a few worries along with it.

Was he meant to save you? Were you a villain? and while he promised himself he would make it work even if his soulmate was a villain.There were strict hero rules surrounding the situation in which your soulmate was a villain.

Hoping that it was the former and that he was to save you, it was a drive for him.

You gave him a reason to work hard, without even knowing each other.

He knew you were out there somewhere and he wanted to be able to protect you as best he could and he put his all into training.

What he didn’t expect when he went the entirety of his high school years not meeting you, was for you to also be a hero.

It was a big mission that they had been planning for days and collecting surveillance and data on the targets, and his agency would be teaming up with two others to take down one of the largest powerhouse groups of villains.

Upon meeting the other agency that were helping them surround the stronghold, he was taken to meet up with the others that heavily involved in the case.

Being in his hero suit it was difficult for him to remember how many minutes and seconds were left before he put it on, because all day he had been scared of you being a citizen caught in the crossfire or on the villains side.

Upon being taken to a group near the back where there stood Fatgum, Tamaki, Kirishima and an unknown hero he stopped in his tracks after locking eyes with you, the unknown hero.

Kirishima, about to greet his friend quickly realised why you were simply staring at each other because he had calmed the both of you separately at some point in the last 24 hours before this mission when worrying about who your soulmate was going to be.

He laughed lightly at his two friends and pulled the others away gently to let you two talk.

“So, you felt the timer run out too?” He was still slightly stunned.

“Yeah.”

“Would you want to get dinner and get to know each other after this missions finished?”

“I think I’d love that, cellophane.”

taglist: @justamultifandomfan16 @shoutamajiki @meliorist-midoriya @goopyartiste @yee-harr @bizzoldmann-08 @katsushimaa @mystic-helena @spookykiri @hannahalanib1 @boosyboo9206 @derpeedoo @sazunari

376 notes · View notes

fanficsandfluff · 2 years

Text

A New Miracle - Chapter 10

Fandom: Encanto

Character(s): OC (Original Character) Alexa, Bruno Madrigal, Julieta Madrigal, Pepa Madrigal, Mirabel Madrigal, the rest of the Madrigal family

For a while, everyone assumed this was why Alexa came to the magical Madrigal home. This was the reason she was summoned by the magic and the miracle to their encanto. Because Bruno needed someone. He loved his family and all of his family adored him right back, that was clear. And it would all have been enough for him til the end of his days. This was just another heap of a blessing Bruno didn't quite think he deserved.

On a rather dreary day, a little over a week since the now famous 'Bruno/Alexa kiss,' the kids in the family wanted to spend more time with Alexa. And she was happy to spend more time with them, clearly still feeling like a newbie. They came up with a plan to show her each of their rooms, so Alexa would be busy with that all day.

Bruno hid in a corner and watched as the group proceeded into Camilo's room first. He felt extra nervous today, and he couldn't pinpoint why. Well, many things, as his anxiety about the changes coming were foremost in his mind. His stomach grumbled and provided a temporary distraction as he made his way down into the kitchen. He rifled through any of the snacks in jars laid about the kitchen to find something he'd like to eat.

"Ah! There he is!" it was Pepa's voice who startled him.

"D-Did I do something?" Bruno asked in one of his meeker voices.

"No, Bruno, no no. I am just happy to have found you," Pepa pinched her brother's cheek and he shook his head to get her hand off.

"Why?"

"Julieta! He's in la cocina!"

Bruno put his hand up to his face, not sure if he could take both of his sisters at the moment. Especially when it looked like Pepa was up to something. A few seconds later, Julieta appeared in the kitchen as well and she smiled wide.

"Hola, Bruno," she went up to him and delivered a quick hug to him, "Are you pilfering again?" she admonished him in a motherly way, "What did I tell you, hm? Go, I want to hear you say it."

Bruno rolled his eyes and felt ashamed, "I-I.. you... I'm--If" he finally forced a sentence out properly, "I wake up late, I don't have to steal food..."

"Right. I'll make you something," Julieta patted his shoulder and went to the cupboards, pulling ingredients out.

"Thank you, Julieta," Bruno said and he sat down at the small round table that resided in the kitchen space. Pepa took the seat opposite him and stared at him. She was smiling, though, which means she probably wasn't mad at him.

"So.... how's it going?" Pepa encouraged him to speak, eyes never leaving him.

"How's what going? I'm okay," Bruno answered.

"I think she means with Alexa," Julieta clarified.

"Good," Bruno said again, immediately looking down towards the table, running his fingers along the cracks in the wood.

"Ay," Pepa frowned, dark, ominous clouds hovering overhead, "Not good? Already!?"

"No! No! It's fine! Really!"

Bruno thought it was okay? I mean, yeah, since the anniversary their lives within the house didn't change much. Alexa still slept in Mirabel's room, and Bruno crept through the walls sometimes to hear if she was talking about him or not. He hadn't garnered much information that way, so he stopped doing it. He did notice she'd hold his hand a lot. Alexa liked holding hands.

Julieta came over and also sat down with the two of them, pausing her cooking for the time being. She looked at Bruno with her delicate, sad eyes.

"Bruno," Julieta began, helping Pepa shoo away her cloud, "You can tell us anything, amor, you know that."

Bruno sighed and he glanced up at his sisters. Then he said, "I've never... felt like this before. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel like or if I'm not feeling the right things."

"It's your first love," Pepa explained, "It's going to feel new."

"Yes, it's all so exciting," Julieta smiled, "I, for one, am overjoyed for you and this new experience, Brunito," she reached over and patted a hand on Bruno's resting on the table. He blushed.

"So am I," Pepa added, "But you gotta be more specific so we can help you, hombrecito. Let us give you our wise advice, hm?"

Bruno flashed a smile for the first time at that, "How do I notice things better? How can I tell if she wants to spend time with me or not?"

"Go by how she sounds," Julieta started, "You'll have to get to know her more to see all her cues, but just trust your judgement. If you are feeling one way, she might also be feeling that way," she stood again and moved towards the stove to continue cooking.

"She seems like a smart girl, Bruno. If she wants to spend time with you, she'd probably just tell you," Pepa concluded.

"Oh..." Bruno's brow furrowed, trying to figure out why they hadn't spent every moment together since the kiss since that's what he wanted to do but just couldn't verbalize.

"Bruno," Julieta chimed in again and he turned around to see her, "Can I tell you... she lights up every time she sees you."

Bruno blushed darkly, "R-Really?"

"Mmhm. I see you two in casita or at dinner, wherever. She's always smiling when she looks at you."

Bruno smiled wide, looking down again since he was feeling bashful at this information that he never picked up on.

"Mira, Julieta," Pepa smiled, "You just made his day. Look at you, all in love, so cute," Pepa reached over the table to ruffle Bruno's mop of curls. He chuckled, despite wanting to be annoyed, and pushed Pepa's hands away from himself. Julieta came over again with a plate of cooked arepas con queso and Bruno took one and dug in.

"So," he said around food in his mouth, "Can I do anything for her that she'd like?"

"She told us she travels, yes?" Pepa asked, "I dunno, maybe go on a hike with her."

"She mentioned she did hike her way here," Bruno agreed.

"Honestly, Bruno," Julieta started speaking again as he finished his first arepa and took another one, "Maybe you should ask Mirabel. She spends a lot of time with her, being her roommate."

"That's a good idea," Bruno agreed, taking another huge bite out of the snack, "These are very good, by the way, Julieta."

Julieta giggled and she cupped his cheek in her hand when he swallowed the bite, "I'm glad you enjoy them, Brunito."

Bruno always felt babied by his sisters, so all this teasing and cutesy cheek pinching was nothing new to him. Like yeah, he was shorter than them, but they were still all the same age. And like days of old, his sisters helped him in a moment of panic and nerves. They showed him the positives and eased his worries about his new relationship. It was definitely new territory for him, and he was having trouble navigating it.

"Maybe just talk to her more," Pepa added as the idea came to her, "Spend a full day together, no distractions. Make it romántico."

Romántico... right! He still hadn't shown Alexa his telenovelas! He'd spent so much time writing and practicing them that he just completely forgot there was a point to all of it.

"Yeah," Bruno said more to himself than anything Pepa had said, "Great idea, sis," he smiled now, acknowledging her.

"Hm," Pepa smiled proudly.

"Thank you guys," Bruno grabbed two more arepas and stuffed them into his poncho, "I gotta go."

"We're very happy for you, Brunito," Julieta smiled.

"So exciting," Pepa beamed.

He looked at both of his sisters before he leaned down and hugged Julieta, and then gave Pepa her own hug, "Thank you!" and he bolted out of the kitchen.

Bruno spent the rest of the day cleaning his little cove in the walls. He couldn't possibly do anything in his room with all the sand and the horrible acoustics.

And Alexa had spent the rest of her day visiting everyone's rooms and getting to know Antonio and all his creature friends. That was probably the most exciting room.

"Thank you!" Alexa said loudly and happily over all the kids' talking in the hallways once the tours were done, "Thank you all so, so much for making me feel part of the family. And can I just say... you're all amazing. Every one of you."

"We know," Camilo said with a grin.

"Noho," Alexa chuckled, "Not just with your gifts. Each of you is so amazing. In here," she knelt down and touched her hand to Antonio's chest, "Truly. I hope you know that it's not just your gifts that make you special."

"Yeah," Isabela said, "We all had to learn that pretty recently."

Mirabel smiled as if she was ready to burst with emotion, "You're special, too, Alexa."

"Let us know if there's anything we can do for you," Dolores said, a small smile on her lips.

"Yeah, you're... pretty cool," Camilo even shared a rare compliment, "But just so you know, I will beat you in a no blinking contest," he asserted. Alexa chuckled, having played one of the many games Camilo suggested while they were in his room together.

"Wehe'll see," Alexa stood up again and she said, "Okay, so I'm coming away from this with a list of chores, yeah? Let's see if I got everything... Spa day with Luisa. Isabela's gotta teach me about gardening. Camilo will yet again lose in another round of no blinking," she smirked at him when she counted off on her fingers and he scoffed. "Mirabel's gonna teach me how to properly sew. And... Dolores, did we have any plans?"

"I was going to show you how to dance cumbia."

"Right! Yes, totally. We'll make a date," Alexa smiled, "And... Antonio? Is there anything we could do for fun?"

"The jaguar is up for giving you a ride," Antonio said.

When Alexa looked apprehensive Antonio continued, "Don't worry. He said he'll go slow."

"Okahay then. Learning to ride a jaguar is now on the list."

"See you at dinner, Alexa!" Mirabel wished and gave her a big hug before going off on her own. The other girls waved and Camilo gave her a fist bump. Antonio was the only one left with her.

"What's up?" she asked the child.

Antonio beckoned Alexa to come closer. She crouched and put her ear closer to him, expecting to be told some secret.

"The rats say Bruno is looking for you."

Alexa looked around, expecting to see Bruno, but she didn't. She smiled at Antonio, "Oh, really. Well, tell the rats to tell him to come find me."

Antonio giggled at that, "Okahay. Bye," he waved and rode off on his jaguar's back into his room. Alexa stood where she was against casita's balcony and leaned on the railing, looking out at the house. She decided to stay there and wait to see if Bruno would show up.

Minutes passed and Alexa was considering abandoning ship and going back to her and Mirabel's room. She heard a creaking noise behind her and froze. She slowly turned around and saw none other than Bruno stepping carefully out of a... hole... in the wall?

"Hi," she greeted.

Bruno now jumped in fear, "Woah! Oh! Hi!" he smiled when he saw Alexa, "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"You just came out of the wall..."

"Yes," Bruno glanced behind him at the now closed picture door, "Yes, I did. This is actually good, I can explain in one go, then. Good," he took a deep breath, "Maybe tomorrow or whenever you're free... we can watch my shows together. I know you said you'd be interested in it a while ago, I just forgot to mention it again."

"Yes," Alexa said easily, smiling, "I'd love to."

"Yeah?" Bruno breathed in relief, much like when he brought it up the first time to her.

"Uh huh," Alexa took another step closer to Bruno, "Now... the wall thing?" she bit her bottom lip through a smile.

"Right..." Bruno cleared his throat, ready to begin when Julieta called for dinner.

"Um... you know, it's actually a really long story. I'll tell you later. After dinner. Okay?"

"Sure," Alexa said. She was slowly learning how to handle Bruno so he wouldn't get overly flustered about things (unless she was feeling evil and intentionally wanted him to be flustered). She kept her answers easy to understand and tried to knock the teasing down a level, even though he was fun to tease.

Even more, Alexa was helplessly smitten with this awkward, small man. Something came over her on that anniversary night, and she hadn't been able to shake it since. He was just so sweet. He made her unreasonably happy. And they hadn't even spent much time together, which was another thing she was still figuring out. She had to grow with him. Since the anniversary night, they hadn't kissed each other. Not again. And Alexa sorely wanted to, just to test the waters. To see if that was really real.

"Bruno," she started to speak again, realizing she probably remained standing there and silent a bit too long to be normal, "I really like you. You know that, right?"

"Y-Y--" he couldn't even get the word out, taken aback by the sudden confession, "I like you, too." He said with hardly any breath left in his system. Why was this so hard? He literally told her he loved her a week ago. It was like starting from scratch.

"Good," a blush lit up Alexa's cheeks and her freckles appeared darker, "So... I can..." she walked right up to him, getting closer, and leaned in tentatively. It took Bruno a second to register what she was doing and he stood still to let her kiss him. She kissed his lips as her hands found his and entangled their fingers together.

"Cohome on," she giggled after the fact, tugging him along so they could get to the dinner table. He was all noodly from his legs to his arms, in la-la land. Bruno had a silly big smile on his face all through dinner that night. And it didn't help that Alexa would place her hand on his knee under the table or give him pokes to his side to mess with him through the whole meal.

Bruno was a nervous, giddy wreck with all this affection. It was a new level of intimacy that he was stressing over with his sisters early in the day. But he was learning that while it may be super intense right now, things should ease up and come off as more normal. He couldn't wait for that normalcy as he initiated slipping his hand under the table and into Alexa's hand that was resting on her lap. And now she blushed and seemed speechless. Bruno smiled. This was good.

20 notes · View notes

jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

The Love We Have

Part 4/5 - AO3 - Previous - Next

Summary: Kaer Morhen has an old tradition in order to keep the witchers safe after the siege. Only witchers and their partners are allowed in the keep but Geralt is tired of parting with Jaskier over the winter so decides to invite him to Kaer Morhen… only he forgets to mention one tiny little detail.

Ship: Geraskier

Rating: T

CW: Mentions of sex and implied sexual content

_______

“What?!” Geralt stared at Jaskier, who had one hand on his hips and the other flailing through the air like a wet fish. The last hour had been a whirlwind of emotions and Geralt was struggling to keep up. First, Eskel and Lambert’s teasing over Jaskier, which had practically given away his true feelings, and then Jaskier running off to his room, stinking of fear and regret… now this? Whatever this was supposed to be.

“We’ll tell the others that I was just being dramatic, I’m a bard after all,” Jaskier explained, a picture of nonchalance as he flicked his hand in the air, seemingly oblivious to Geralt’s inner crisis.

They stared at each other, both stubborn as mules, neither willing to back down, until Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have got to be joking.”

“Nope!” Jaskier trilled, popping the ‘p’ and winking at Geralt as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The bard’s mood swings were difficult to keep up with on the best of days but Geralt felt like he was stuck in a storm, not too dissimilar to the burst of magic that Pavetta had created all those years ago. He couldn’t move forward. He couldn’t move back. No, he was just a boat on the waves, being pulled by the currents of Jaskier’s tide.

“Fuck,” Geralt grumbled, not quite believing that he was about to agree to this. “Fine. How do we do this?”

Jaskier glanced at the bed. “Is it squeaky?”

“What?”

“The bed? Is it squeaky?”

This was ridiculous, but it was too late to back out now. He’d started this after all, dragging Jaskier all the way up this godforsaken mountain, to a crumbly keep in the middle of a harsh winter. The least he could do was let Jaskier have his fun. He would just have to hope that he didn’t get aroused and make it awkward for both of them. Well, Geralt supposed he could just blame it on the circumstances and weather the inevitable teasing from the bard. “No,” he admitted.

“So… how much will they be able to hear?” Jaskier asked, cocking his head, his hand still resting on his hip in a way that was just so entirely Jaskier.

“What?”

“Gods, Geralt. It’s like blood from a stone! Vesemir said witchers have good hearing. So our conversation now? Is that safe from prying ears?”

Geralt frowned, focussing his witcher senses. The extra set of mutagens had given him an edge over the others and from their room he could just about hear a faint murmur of voices but he couldn’t make out any words, or even who was talking. So he nodded. “We’re fine.”

“And what if we start shouting?”

“Less fine.”

Jaskier smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his tongue flicked out between his teeth, dragging along his lips slowly. Geralt was entranced. The air grew heavy between them and Geralt felt as if Jaskier was trying to seduce him for real, not for some silly game to trick the other witchers. A heat pooled in his core as Jaskier’s eyes roamed over his body, the same way they did when Jaskier was trying to lure some unexpecting fool into his bed.

Only now Geralt was the fool.

And it was working.

“What about moaning?” Jaskier purred, closing the gap between them, his hands splayed on Geralt’s chest. The bard’s gaze kept flicking down to Geralt’s lips, his fingers trailing along the crevices of Geralt’s heavy jumper.

Geralt swallowed, his mouth feeling too dry. What the fuck was Jaskier trying to acheive? The idiot had definitely said pretend to have sex… hadn’t he?

“Jask,” he murmured, a low warning. This had gone on long enough, and Geralt’s control was beginning to crumble. He wanted nothing more than to take the bard into his arms, to kiss that stupid grin off his face. To wreck those pretty lips that had teased him with every lick for years, with no idea of how badly it was affecting him.

“Yes, darling?” Jaskier whispered, standing so close that his breath was tickling, warm against Geralt’s skin.

The sweet scent of arousal was wafting off of the bard in waves, making Geralt feel heady, and the world seemed to fade around them until it was just the pair of them. It reminded him of their first kiss, a trial unlike any other in Geralt’s life, one to see whether they’d even have a chance of pulling off this crazy scheme, just because they hadn’t wanted to be parted for winter.

Because Geralt hadn’t wanted to be parted for winter. Every year they separated, Geralt felt like he was leaving a little more of his soul behind until he couldn’t bear it anymore. Rather than admitting the truth to Jaskier, and actually confessing his feelings, he’d been a coward. So they were pretending to be in love. Chaste kisses, fake touches, lies.

It was all lies.

By gods, he wanted it to be real.

He took a deep breath through his mouth, trying to clear his head of Jaskier’s scent. “How do we fake it?”

Jaskier’s flirtatious facade dropped, for barely a second but Geralt still saw it. He knew the bard too well to miss the subtle change in his expression, but Jaskier was an expert, a trained actor, and he masked his mistake well. For anyone else it would have worked. He plastered a grin on his face, clearing his throat as he stood back away from Geralt. Ringed fingers patted awkwardly on Geralt’s chest as the distance grew between them. “Fake it, yes. Well, I was. I was thinking some jumping on the bed, moaning, grunting, maybe some dirty talk,” Jaskier laughed, waggling his eyebrows in a way that was completely ridiculous but unbearably endearing, and Geralt wanted Jaskier back in his space. The distance was too much.

And then an idea struck him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head and smirking at the bard. “Won’t work.”

“Oh yeah, and how would you know?”

“I told you, we can smell it.”

“Smell… sex?”

“Yes.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide, a bright pink flush colouring his cheeks. His mouth dropped open as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Ah. Right then… well, umm. We don’t. We don’t have to…”

“They’ll wonder why, you said yourself,” Geralt murmured, once again closing the gap between them, cupping Jaskier’s cheek and running his thumb through the bristles of stubble on his jaw. The bard seemed to freeze under his touch, staring back at Geralt, his mouth dropped open, and that crackling spark between them was back, licking across Geralt’s skin. His heart felt like it was caught in his throat, a flicker of anxiety squeezing in his chest. It would be hard to explain this as just friendly banter should Jaskier reject him now.

“You want to?”

Geralt tilted his head. “Do you want to?”

Jaskier barked a laugh, his fingers flexing and coming back to gripped at Geralt’s clothes. “Only if you want to. Oh for Melitele’s sake!”

The bard crashed their lips together in a kiss, his fingers cupping the nape of Geralt’s neck, holding him close. Geralt moaned into Jaskier’s mouth as his lips parted, allowing Geralt’s tongue to slip against his. One of Jaskier’s hands trailed down Geralt’s spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, until the bard’s fingers gripped Geralt’s arse, pressing their bodies together. Arousal and lust filled the air around them in a cloud, sweet and intoxicating, more addictive than any drug. Geralt groaned into the kiss, breaking their lips apart so Jaskier could breathe, but never letting his lips leave Jaskier’s skin that was warm and salty on his tongue. He pressed kisses along Jaskier’s jaw, nuzzling his nose into the bard’s neck as he breathed in that delicious scent, sweet chamomile and an underlying musk. Jaskier whimpered, the sound creating a quiver of vibrations in his throat, tingling against Geralt’s lips.

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathed, the name; a prayer as it rolled off his tongue, a whisper in the otherwise silent room. Geralt had never heard his name said in such a reverent manner, like he was all that mattered in the world. It was almost too much.

Witchers don’t feel.

Witchers can’t feel.

Witchers can’t fall in love.

Well, it seemed Geralt hadn’t gotten that memo when he was going through the trials. He loved, and he was so in love with this idiot that was in his arms.

Love.

Sweeter than honey.

Jaskier’s scent.

Geralt pulled back with a start, staring frantically at the bard as if he could figure everything out just by looking in those gorgeous cornflower blue eyes. It was no use, Jaskier was pouting up at him, confused and a little hurt, but there was no trace of love… not that Geralt knew what he was looking for. People looked at him with horror, fear, occasionally lust but never love. Would he even be able to tell?

“Geralt?”

“Fuck.”

Jaskier cupped his cheek, blue eyes searching and panicked. “Geralt, what’s going on? I’m not Yennefer, I can’t… I can’t read your mind. You need to talk to me, please.”

After taking a long breath, Geralt closed his eyes. “I-I… fuck.”

Jaskier’s fingers on his cheek moved, brushing a lock of hair behind Geralt’s ears, and there was a soft press of lips against his, gentle and grounding. Before it could get heated, Jaskier pulled away, resting his forehead against Geralt’s, and Geralt covered Jaskier’s hand with his own. The mood shifting from something hot and burning to something all the more intense, intimate. “It’s okay, dear heart, I understand.”

“But--”

“I love you too, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, his breath hot against Geralt’s lips, and he said it so confidently, without any fear. There was no way those words could be taken any other way. Jaskier was in love with him.

Jaskier was in love with him.

Actually in love with him.

They were alone, no need to pretend or act or lie. This was all real, and Geralt suddenly understood why people said they were on top of the world. He felt invincible, with this delicate flower, so mortal and breakable, by his side. He could take on the most fearsome of monsters and be absolutely fine, as long as Jaskier loved him.

And that made him feel unreasonably angry. All the lies he’d been fed as a child. Love was a weakness to be exploited.

No.

Love was his strength, his greatest weapon.

“Geralt, darling…” Jaskier’s voice, low and warm like a summer’s day, snapped him from his thoughts. “I adore you but, but… can you let go?”

Geralt growled, blinking as he focussed back into the room. His fingers were digging into Jaskier’s hips, and judging by the look on the bard’s face, he was hurting him. “Shit, sorry.”

Thankfully, Jaskier just laughed, a beautiful musical sound that made warmth blossom in Geralt’s chest. “Oh darling, what is going on in there?” A long finger tapped Geralt right in the middle of his forehead, and then Jaskier placed a hand on his hip and cocked his head, a pout playing on his lips.

“Hmm, pondering on the subject of love.”

“Oh, ho, ho!” Jaskier giggled. “We shall make a poet out of you yet, witcher! And what is it about love that has got you all grumpy and scary face?”

“Witchers don’t love,” Geralt repeated the familiar words, though now they felt empty and bitter on his tongue.

Jaskier scoffed. “And yet… only significant others are allowed to Kaer Morhen? That’s still a load of bollocks, you know. As if our decades-long friendship isn’t more important than a quick summer fling.”

“But you love me.”

“Ah yes, but… oh shush. You know what I mean, Geralt!”

Geralt chuckled. “Hmm.”

“You. are. Terrible!” Jaskier snapped, clearly starting to spiral into one of his moods, but Geralt had a better idea. He scooped Jaskier up into his arms and over his shoulder in one swift movement. “Oi!”

“You talk too much.”

“And yet, you love me,” Jaskier trilled happily “Now, take me to bed, witcher. I think we’ve both waited long enough.”

Geralt chuckled, throwing Jaskier down onto the bed. The bard squeaked as he bounced on the mattress but soon regained his composure, tongue slipping between his lips as he gazed up at Geralt with a smirk. He looked beautiful, clothes already a mess and his hair tousled from their kisses and his own habit of messing it up when he got anxious. His cheeks were still a little blotchy from the earlier tears but there was no denying his beauty… almost elf like in his elegance. Geralt felt like he could stare at his bard for hours and never grow bored of the sight, but he was allowed to touch now, and that was just too tempting. Years of restraint, and now the chains were broken. He crawled onto the bed, resting between Jaskier’s spread legs and pressed their lips together, slow and lazy.

They had all night after all.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #kaer morhen #fake dating #wolfie’s witcher writing

55 notes · View notes

harrypotter-imaginess · 3 years

Text

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here!

A/N: I think two more parts and an epilogue :)

* If Draco’s being honest, he kind of saw it coming

* Honestly the fact that she had been so quiet when everything unfolded in Paris was very unlike her

* So he’s not at all surprised to see her in the mundane waiting area at his department

* A very frazzled receptionist who’s frantically telling an old war hero that even though she saved the world, she can’t see Mr.Malfoy without an appointment

* “It’s alright Saoirse, I’ll take it from here,” he tells the receptionist with a soft pat on the shoulder before turning his attention to his visitor

* “Hello Granger,” she only replies with a polite smile

* He really was afraid of this

* “what can I do for you?”

* And that’s how he found himself at a cafe around the corner sitting across from his old nemesis -

* And apparently also his old school crush-

* With two steaming cups of untouched tea in front of them

* He’s trying to keep calm, not showing that he’s internally freaking out

* It’s no sooner that the server is out of earshot that Granger leans over the table and says through gritted teeth

* “What are you playing at Malfoy?”

* And Draco, having learned one single thing living with his parents is that when someone is angry-

* You lie

* So he takes control of the moment, lifting the cup of tea to his lips and savoring his sip of tea before saying :

* “I have no idea what you mean”

* It only makes her angrier

* Well what did she think was going to happen?

* That she could just show up unannounced and interrogate him about his relationship

* He doesn’t need her to be hard on him, he’s hard enough on himself for the both of them

* “Honestly Draco, are you so self-involved that you have no consideration for what will happen to them once your family finds out you’re involved with a Muggle”

* He’s thought of nothing but that actually

* “You’ll be fine of course, you’re their son they’ll forgive you for it, call it a flight of youth but what about them? What about the years you’re stealing from them, their mind-“

* Mid tirade, Draco slips a hand into his suit pocket and pulls out a small velvet box

* Hermione stops talking when he sets it down in the middle of the table

* “I bought it the day after our first date”

* After that day, he knew there was no going back

* He couldn’t live a life without you, he couldn’t go back to the way things were anymore

* Hermione doesn’t say anything for a long time

* “Your parents-“she starts

* “Will disown me” Draco finishes and then after thinking about it for a second he adds:

* “Probably”

* “Draco-“ Hermione’ stone is sympathetic but he stops her right there

* “I know you think I’m the worst and daft to boot, and honestly I probably am, but don’t think for a second I haven’t considered all the angles for how this play’s out”

* They sit in silence, and to Draco’s surprise it’s not painful

* It’s just sad

* “You love them that much?” And for the first time, Hermione isn’t looking at him with a glare

* “With all my heart” he responds without a moments thought

* Because it’s true

* If being with you means his family will never speak to him again if it means he’ll have to give up his money if it means he’ll have to give up magic forever

* Then that’s okay

* He’ll give them all up with a smile on his face

* “They show up in my nightmares you know” Granger raises her eyebrow at that

* Ah, that came out wrong

* “Not like that-“

* He’s certainly not saying the person he loves is the root of his nightmares

* Every so often he’ll be back in school

* Kicking some first year while they’re down

* Telling Potter how pathetic he is because he doesn’t have parents

* Standing in front of the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement, trying to mend it

* Standing in front of Dumbledore with his wand raised

* And he can see himself doing all of these terrible things, things that make him cringe and ashamed

* And then you show up

* A hand placed on his shoulder

* “You can choose kindness Draco”

* “You don’t have to hurt other people so they don’t notice that you’re hurting too”

* “Everything is okay”

* “I’m here now”

* And so, like things always are when you're around, the dream is bathed in warm gold light

* Draco extends his hand, helping the first year onto his feet

* He tells Potter: “sometimes I’m jealous you haven’t got any parents. Sometimes the things they want from me - it's like I can’t breathe”

* He breaks that vanishing cabinet

* And he lowers his wand and whispers “help me please, tell me what I have to do to escape this future”

* And it makes all the difference

* “They’re what saves me,” he says, completely unaware of the look in Hermione’s eyes

* Ron and Harry never saw it, but she did-

* It’s easy for the three of them to be good, they had people like Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley and Professor McGonagall to look up to, to look towards when they thought they may stray from their path

* But Draco never had anyone like that

* He had Snape, but that was a mess in and of itself

* And she’s ashamed to say that as smart as she is, she didn’t see it sooner

* Not until she saw him in that Parisian bakery

* She didn’t think he could look that kind in general, let alone to a Muggle

* But just because he’s better now because of you, doesn’t mean he should be better at the expense of you

* She’s happy for you

* “If you hurt them you won’t need to worry about your parents, I’ll murder you myself”

* Draco laughs

* That seems fair

* “I’m sorry,” and when she seems confused he adds:

* “For all the things I did in school, I regret all of them”

* An awkward expression crosses her face

* “I’m not asking for your forgiveness, I don’t deserve it, I just-“

* He just thought that she deserved one, even if it was after all these years

* “I just wanted to apologize”

* Not wanting to make her uncomfortable he moves to leave, standing up and ticking his chair in

* “Oh and one more thing,” he says before leaving.

* “Let Weasley and Potter know that the irony isn’t lost on me that I fell in love with a Muggle,” he says with a grin, and Hermione smiles back.

* You walk out of the office to see Draco leaning against the building, a brown bag in hand

* He’s wearing that black on black suit

* God he looks yummy

* “Were you waiting for me?” You’re probably grinning when he leans down to greet you with a kiss, grabbing your hand with his free on

* Fingers intertwining as you walk down the street

* “I got finished early, thought I would surprise you with some of your favorite food,” he says the paper bag rustling in his hand

* “My place or yours,” you ask, and Draco gulps

* He puts on his best smile

* “Yours is probably best”

* He strips off his coat the moment he asks in, before helping you out of yours

* “You’re being so attentive today,” you say with a giggle while he tucks your hair behind your ear

* “Just missed you is all,” he says with a smile

* “Hard day at work?” You ask setting your keys down and you see Draco shrug

* “A little” a tiny reassuring smile curled onto his face

* “I’ll get us some wine,” you say “white or red?”

* “Surprise me”

* He takes a seat on your couch, leg bouncing

* It has to be now

* He has to do it now

* You come back with two glasses of rosé

* “I thought you said my options were white or red?” He says taking one of the glasses

* “And you said ‘surprise me’”

* He laughs, setting the glass down on a coaster

* “You know there’s no one else like you in the world, you’re an original piece” he’s teasing, but it’s not unkind

* You banter back:

* “Well I didn’t see you complaining about my originality last month when you proposed to me”

* He smiles at you

* And you know exactly what’s about to happen

* Before his hand dips into his pocket

* Before you see the velvety box, which creaks open to reveal a formidable diamond ring

* Before Draco says

* “That’s right, I love your originality, I love everything about you. And I want nothing more than to spend my entire life being surprised by you”

* “Will you marry me?”

* Yes

* Of course, it’s a yes

* How could it not be?

* You don’t realize you’re crying until Draco’s thumbs wipe away the tears on your cheeks

* Your mouth opens to tell him that you want nothing more than to surprise him for the rest of your life too, nothing more than to stay by his side

* When he stops you

* “Before you answer, there’s something you need to know, something I haven’t been 100% honest about”

* Draco averts his gaze and you feel anxiety gnaw at you

* What sort of terrible thing could it be?

* He looks straight into your eyes with those warm Grey orbs

* Gulps, and says:

* “I’m a wizard (Y/N)”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter headcanon #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy headcanons #harrypotter imaginess

134 notes · View notes

deadorcaffeinated · 3 years

Text

Sparks, Pt. 4

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Chapter Summary: You get ready to confront the God of Mischief. But are you ready for that?

A/N: Finally, a bit more Loki.

TW: Eating

After a year consisting mostly of isolation and non-consensual experimentation, it was strange, to say the least, to have people actually give a shit about your well-being.

Shortly after Fury called the meeting to a close, Nat took you to a sort of staff room, oddly normal for a ship like this. State of the art, but with all the basic workings of a regular office’s staff room.

“You must be starving,” she said, pulling some things out of an impressive reach-in refrigerator. “Sandwich? I make a mean ham and cheese.”

Your stomach suddenly let out a worrying growl, and you winced.

“Sounds fantastic, actually,” you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten. The lab hadn’t exactly been feeding you five star meals.

A comfortable silence settled into the room while Natasha assembled the sandwich. The quiet sounds of her work lulled you into a sort of trance, as you stared at the wall, and definitely didn’t think about how an agent of a secret organization was preparing you lunch on a giant aircraft carrier thousands of feet in the air which was also occupied by two gods, a historic super soldier, and the most famous tech genius in the world.

No. You didn’t think about it at all.

She presented you with her finished product and a glass of water with a flourish, which also included a bag of chips and an apple. “It might be too much, so only eat as much as you want. It’s better to take it easy when your stomach isn’t used to meals like this.”

You nodded and gave her an expression which you hoped looked more grateful than grimace. Truth be told, you were holding back emotion as even this small kindness felt overwhelming after the past year.

But as you picked up the sandwich to take a bite, a heavy set of footsteps stopped at the door.

It was Thor, his large frame standing almost sheepishly in the doorway. “Apologies for interrupting. May I speak with you?”

To your surprise, the question was for you, and after a nod, Nat touched your wrist and said, “I’ll be right outside. You can have the room.”

After she exited, Thor approached your table with a sort of caution.

“Oh, sorry, uh, would you like to sit down?” You stuttered lamely, when noticing his hesitation.

He nodded and did so, dwarfing the chair and the table. You hadn’t really taken the time to notice before, how huge his arms and shoulders were. A single bicep was larger than the size of your own head.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal. You need your strength,” Thor said, eyes flicking to the plate. “Especially if you’re going to be facing my brother.”

Ah. That.

“Is that…” You were still having a bit of trouble processing the identity of who you were talking to. “Is that what you wanted to speak with me about?”

“Loki’s always been deceptive. I just wanted to warn you not to listen to anything he says, especially not at face value. He will try to distract you, deceive you, and it will seem he knows more about you than he should.”

As he spoke, you noticed he kept eyeing the potato chip packet next to your plate. You pushed it towards him, and he gratefully accepted, popping the bag open and nervously munching on its contents.

You hummed in thought. “I understand. Maybe it would help to know what kinds of abilities he has? What sort of tricks he’s able to pull?”

Thor seemed to relax slightly, having something to occupy his mind and hands. He regaled you with a few anecdotes of how Loki had used his magic to trick him, some from their childhood, and some more recently.

You found yourself both more reassured and more nervous, afraid there might be something you would miss allowing Loki an out. Or a way to hurt you. But all of that aside, it was almost fun to converse with Thor like this… being nearly immortal led to having many interesting stories to tell, and the more he told the more animated he became. He even had you laughing at some points.

“Thank you,” he held up the empty chip bag. “I haven’t had these since my last visit to Earth. A favored Midgardian dish, if I recall.”

You smiled. “No problem. And thank you for warning me. I know it must be difficult to... fight with family like this.”

“Yes,” a sad half smile lifted one side of his lips, “I’m afraid that is something I am still coming to terms with.”

Before he rose from his seat, Thor clapped you on the shoulder. “You know, you remind me of my first Midgardian friends. I believe they would like you. One of them zapped me with a small device that even mimics your powers.”

With that strange but kind remark, Thor left the room.

….

Natasha said she had things she needed to attend to, but that you were welcome to walk around as you pleased, and to just be careful not to stumble into anything that looked even mildly secret or dangerous.

So you aimlessly wandered the giant airship, mostly in an attempt to walk off some nerves. You tried to memorize your paths, memorize the turns and rooms, but after a while you realized just how much you’d fucked up. It was a fruitless endeavor, and you eventually found yourself quite lost.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself.

You turned the way you came, but as you did so, something shifted in the corner of your eye. Whipping frantically towards the movement, you felt your body tense like an animal being hunted, and thoughts of the masked man from the labs flooded your mind.

No, he couldn’t be here. Your mind was playing tricks, your anxiety was getting the better of you.

“My, my,” a silvery voice said into your ear. “You are jumpy, aren’t you?”

Reeling back, you slammed into the opposite wall, nearly knocking yourself out with the force of it. You still didn’t see the source of the voice.

“What is the reason for this skittishness, I wonder?”

Loki.

He materialized in front of you, and you froze like a deer in the headlights. He rolled his eyes. “Calm yourself. This is not an escape attempt.”

You did not find that convincing.

“This is merely a projection. My real body is still in that cell… Here, see for yourself.” His right hand swept out to beckon to you, palm up.

Did he want you to… touch him? Your earlier conversation with Thor filtered through your head, and you knew it would be a bad idea. You did not move. Again, frustration showed on Loki’s creased brow.

“Fine, look.” Then, through a wall of solid steel, Loki passed his hand as if he were just a hologram.

“What do you want?” you asked abruptly.

He looked faintly surprised that you had spoken, but schooled his expression quickly. “I want to know more about you.”

“What?” It was your turn to be surprised (not that you’d stopped since he materialized from nowhere). “Why?”

“It’s not every day I meet a mortal who can withstand an Infinity Stone’s power,” he chuckled, as if that were clearly obvious.

Your blank stare must’ve clued him in to the fact that the significance of this ‘Infinity Stone’ was lost on you, because he only sighed.

“Rest assured, it’s not something a normal human should be able to do,” he said. “So… what is different about you?”

He stepped closer, and though you knew he couldn’t touch you, you recoiled further into the wall. His stare was piercing, and he clearly enjoyed that it made you squirm.

Finally you mustered up the courage to respond. “I’ve already told this story once today,” you said, sounding more like a petulant child than you meant to.

“Touchy subject?”

“It’s not particularly fun to talk about, no.”

He didn’t move any closer but didn’t relinquish you your space either. He just studied you as if he could discern your entire history from your visual being.

You wondered if you should just turn and walk away, or if he had some way of stopping you. Even more unexpected though, was the realization that you wanted to talk to him, that maybe this conversation could help you in your real life encounter that was to happen soon.

“Why did you approach me in the pub?” you asked, and though it wasn’t the answer he apparently wanted, he looked pleased that you were engaging him now. “I was curious.”

“And when you blasted me with the scepter?”

“I wanted to see what would happen.” He shrugged, as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

“And now that you have? What do you want?”

A beat of silence. Then, “What do you think?”

You thought, if he had had a plan before, your presence must have thrown quite the wrench and that if he were smart, he would be trying to figure out exactly how big and disastrous that wrench would be. “I think you didn’t expect me to be involved.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That is true.” Then a smirk began to form on his mouth and he squinted at you. “They’re planning something with you, aren’t they? Fury and his subordinates.”

Your widened eyes must have been all the answer he needed. How did he know?

With a laugh, “They have so much at their disposal, weapons of mass destruction, all of Stark’s technology, and they defer to the prowess of a child they’ve only just met?” Loki leaned in so close the green of eyes felt overwhelming. “They must be truly desperate.”

A familiar voice, Tony’s, called your name from around the corner, echoing off the metal walls of the hallway. But Loki didn’t move. His eyes remained on you, so sharp and curious, you felt like an animal on a dissection tray.

“Until next we meet, then.”

And with that, he vanished.

“Sparks,” Tony came around to your stretch of hallway. “Thought that was your voice. You lost? Talking to yourself? You know, cabin fever usually takes a lot longer than a few hours to set in.”

Still a little too stunned to speak, you gulped and nodded.

Tony’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You good? Looking a little green around the gills, Pikachu.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m alright.” Your voice returned to you. “And.. Pikachu? Really?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but seemed to let it go. He shrugged. “I like to change it up-- and are you, or are you not, electrically charged at all times?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. He clapped you on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he turned, waving you to follow him. “Want you to see what we cooked up for ya.”

————

The conducting table was ready. Only a few moments before you stepped into Loki’s cage, the first time you would be in the same physical space as him since he basically almost murdered you.

Cool. All cool. You were definitely not feeling a panic attack setting in. You were definitely breathing at a normal rate and not feeling your lungs seize up in your chest.

“We’ll be right here, if anything goes wrong,” Steve said, laying a hand gently on the back of your shoulder.

“Aye,” Thor said. “I’ll be standing with you.”

There was a stone in your throat as you looked at Loki through the thick glass. He seemed to feel your gaze, and slowly turned to look, grinning when he saw you watching.

Loki’s hands were shackled, sitting on the table in front of two conducting handles, which were mirrored on the other side. The idea was that you both grip them, and you would be able to dig through his mind… theoretically.

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” you said. You felt sweat under your arms, and your face getting hot with anxiety.

Fury eyed you. “Just do what you can.”

The door to his cell whooshed open, and flanking you on either side as you entered were Cap and Thor. Loki regarded them with that same smirk as they entered, soon followed by Fury and Natasha. Tony and Dr. Banner remained on the other side of the glass.

“Is this the best you can do?” He said, his eyes flaring at you. “Insulting, really.”

Fury ignored him, directing you to the empty chair at the other end of the table.

“On my go,” he said, and stood to the right of the table. He pinned Loki with a stare.

Loki shot back a challenging look before his gaze settled on you and his hands moved to grip the handles. “On your go.” And at that moment, in full purview of that slanting grin, you understood why he was called the God of Mischief.

Fury nodded at you.

Now or never.

And, sparing a passing thought to the entropy that was your life and the risks of what you were about to do, you grabbed the handles.

Tags: @purplekitten30 @scorpionchild81 @mjaudrey @srhxpci @the-maroon-panda @lirinstaalem

#sparks #loki #loki x you #loki x reader #avengers reader insert #loki imagine #loki x original character #loki laufeyson

51 notes · View notes

free-pool-trash · 3 years

Text

maybe - stiles stilinski

This is for all my Stiles bitches who are afraid of love ❤️ @makeusfreefromthisfandom ;)

word count: 2k

warnings: angst

summary: the last thing you wanted to do was fall in love (the bridge of all too well obviously set me off)

masterlist

“Maybe we got lost in translation...”

You weren’t sure at what point you’d gone wrong. Each time you recounted your footsteps, every step was calculated and perfectly placed. Perhaps you hadn’t done enough. Or maybe you hadn’t given enough, if you were to ignore the fact that the girl you were before was almost unrecognisable to you now, that option seemed most likely.

For months and months you danced around each other, balanced on the tightrope between friends and more than that. It seemed all of your show stopping smiles, all of your time and all of your willingness to be at each beck and call had been wasted on the relationship that had been doomed from the beginning. But, of course, you were only now hit with that epiphany.

Truthfully, yet somewhat shockingly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to take on the blame for losing your potential other half. Yes, your heart had been completely and utterly torn to shreds in a way you’d never experienced, it was the kind of hurt you hoped you’d never have to brave again. But it wasn’t your fault that falling always felt like flying. It wasn’t your fault that he’d wormed his way through your barricades, there was nothing for you to do but surrender to the sudden ambush that was falling in love with Stiles Stilinski.

Falling in love was never something you wanted, in fact, it was something you tirelessly avoided. The notion of giving someone the power to destroy you brought you nothing but terror. Then there was him.

Stiles Stilinski. Clever, sarcastic, kind, cute and terrible at lacrosse. He’d broken down your every defence, not even knowing he was doing it in the first place. Maybe you were fooling yourself but you truly thought you’d broken down some of his walls too.

What other explanation could be given to the times when he’d show up at your house looking for a shoulder to cry on, specifically your shoulder to cry on. Or the times he would throw you a packet of your favourite sweets before school with the reasoning of “Well, I was getting gas and I know you like them. So I got them.” As if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Those being construed as more than platonic could definitely be considered wishful thinking, but the scene currently playing in your mind had to have meant something more.

In your mind you played it back, it’d started fairly normally. Stiles had shown up in his rickety jeep, told you to hop in and he drove around until he found somewhere private and quiet to park. You’d gotten food on your way to the empty parking lot, he knew your order off by heart, butterflies erupted in your stomach as he called it into the speaker with complete confidence. Dazed, you remember asking, doe eyed and almost breathless, “You know my order?”

The boy had huffed out a puff of air and looked at you incredulously, “Of course I know your order, come on.” He shrugged off your shock and the night moved on as it usually did. It was when you were sitting in the parking lot, quietly picking at your food that he spoke up.

“Hey. Can I ask you something?” Sparing him a glance you only nodded, continuing to pick at your food as you listened. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, by the way.”

With a raised brow you turned your head to look at him, his hands were drumming on the steering wheel rather anxiously, “Alright… what’s your question?”

He’d turned his body to face you as best he could in the small space and clapped his hands together, “Ok, theoretically, if someone was trying to woo you… how would they go about doing that?” He cleared his throat as he finished and if it was possible your eyebrow arched higher.

It was a loaded question. How do you woo someone who's never wanted to be wooed? You wanted to tell him, but instead you shrugged your shoulders and deflated against the passenger seat.

“I don’t know, I’ve never really had an interest in being wooed. Never really thought about it.”

The irony of the situation, looking back on it, he’d been wooing you without even trying and what’s more is that you hadn’t even felt it happening. Only now realising you’d been falling once your body hit the unforgiving concrete beneath it.

“Oh come on! There has to be something! Flowers? Chocolates?” Stiles proded, wiggled his eyebrows and he whined half heartedly when you tossed a fry at him.

You remember how you’d rolled your eyes, “Seriously, I don’t want to be pursued by some guy.”

“Blah, blah, blah, I know. I said theoretically, ok? Theoretically, if you did wanna be pursued, how would that go?” His tone went from sarcastic but melted into uncertainty towards the end of his question.

Your eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you, “Why do you even wanna know?”

His gaze softened and there was something so gentle behind his eyes, an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint and the words that fell from his lips were the catalyst to your inevitable plummet.

“You deserve someone to love you. I want you to have that.”

Bringing your train of thought back to the present, you tried your best to focus on the meeting at hand. Scott was talking the pack through a battle strategy, something about Gerard and Monroe but you weren’t paying attention.

You were internally kicking yourself, of course he’d end up with Lydia after all of this. You were so caught up in the short term sparks, the momentary hopes, that you’d forgotten about the bigger picture. Even still, you wouldn’t lie, you were feeling as though you’d been strung along.

There was a set of eyes scrutinising you from across Scott’s kitchen and it was only when you met Theo’s curious eyes that you noticed you had zoned in on Stiles’ and Lydia’s intertwined hands. The kamara gave you a knowing look, quietly moving towards you once the room broke into chatter.

“You know, if you keep oggling at them they’re going to notice.” He told you, leaning towards your ear as his legs rested against the counter beside you.

Sighing you looked at him, completely exhausted, “I really wish I was heartless like you.”

Theo chuckled, tilting his head as if he knew something you didn’t, “Well, according to Stiles, you’re pretty cold hearted yourself.”

“And Stiles told you that?” You snapped, arms crossing over your chest apprehensively.

He nodded his head, pulled his lip between his teeth and then leaned his head back towards your ear again, “He also told me that you were the kinda girl who needed someone persistent.”

Your stomach dropped, you had an idea where he was going with this. “Why? Why did he tell you all that?”

“Must think I’d be a good match for you.”

It hurt, that someone you considered a friend, more than a friend, would talk you up to someone he absolutely loathed, someone he didn’t trust at all. You’d been so wrong about the feelings Stiles had for you recently and you couldn’t help considering that maybe you fell into the same category as Theo. Just another cold hearted fool.

There was a lot to be said for Theo Raeken. Was he necessarily a good person? No. Was he trustworthy? Absolutely not. Yeah, that’s definitely the sort of person you deserved to have love you.

“I’d be offended too.” He chuckled, watching your face carefully. The way it contorted in confusion, how your lips dipped downward and acceptance settled on your face.

You hadn’t noticed Stiles looking at you from across the room, inspecting the scene before him carefully. He had this sort of anxiety flooding his chest as he watched you deflate as you spoke to Theo.

There was no denying that he was in love with Lydia but before he’d inevitably ended up with the strawberry blonde, he’d been building something quite special with you. He knew you caught onto it too and that’s what was eating away at him.

“You’re being ridiculous.” He told you, shaking his head in disbelief.

You scoffed in return, “It’s called self preservation, Stiles.”

“I just don’t get it.”

You looked at him before shooting into an explanation that he’d heard a million times before, “When you fall in love with someone you give that person so much power over you. They can either make you or break you. I don’t ever want someone to have that kind of affect on me. I don’t want someone that feels like fresh air in my lungs because if they leave I’d be the one left suffocating. Doesn’t sound all that magical to me.”

Stiles looked at you sadly, he understood what you meant but he believed in the goodness of falling in love, “What makes you so sure they’ll leave?”

“Because they always do.”

And he’d done everything you tried so adamantly to avoid. Knowingly made you fall and then knowing left you to crash and burn and prove yourself right.

You stared at him, from across the room, something about the look on your face told him that his last stitch attempt to save face had only pushed you over the edge.

He hated Theo, he really did and you deserved better than him, but he was the only readily available person that he could think of in the heat of the moment.

Theo liked the chase and you liked to run, it made sense on paper. But the look of betrayal on your face as your eyes met sent him spiralling.

Without another word you left the room, stalking towards Scott’s front porch and settling down on the steps.

It was quiet for a while, your hands busied themselves raking through your hair as your elbows rested against your knees. Were you really as bad as Theo? Was that really the impression you gave off? Sure, the boy had improved since you’d first met but that didn’t change the fact that he’d literally been sent to hell for his crimes. Did shunning romance seriously make you that evil?

A familiar presence joining you shook you from your thoughts but you didn’t move to greet him.

Stiles clearing his throat broke the silence but you kept your gaze on the empty street ahead of you. “So, uh, Theo-“

You cut him off with an empty laugh, giving him the meanest side eye you could manage, “Don’t.” You demanded though your voice sounded weak.

“You seemed upset- just wanted to check on you.” He told you lamely, rubbing the back of his neck, watching as your eyebrows pulled together.

Turning slowly to face him you let your hands fall limply against your knees, “I have a question.”

He only nodded. Preparing himself for whatever you were about to throw at him.

“Was it all in my head?” There was anger creeping along your tone but it was the desperation for an answer that took the forefront.

He swallowed thickly but shook his head, “Nah. It wasn’t in your head.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth, fighting the urge to scream as you posed your next question, “It was always Lydia. No matter when or where it was always going to be her. So why?”

His heart sank at the question, his will cracking just as your voice did when you spoke, “Why what?”

“Maybe you didn’t mean to. Maybe you were bored or maybe we just got lost in transition but I trusted you. So I guess my real question is; why did you try so hard to make me love someone only to walk away at the first given opportunity.” You wondered, quickly brushing away a tear that fell from your eye.

His silence could’ve killed you, he looked so very lost. Completely devoid of an answer he just stared at you as you inhaled a deep breath and stood up shakily.

“You know, maybe you were onto something with that Theo thing. At least if he screws me over I’ll have seen it coming.” You told him bitterly, walking inside and leaving him on the step.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf #just some senseless angst because i felt like it

159 notes · View notes

juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 07

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A philosophical slant, (heavy) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom being absolute hubby material, Werewolf!Jaebeom being awkward and (a bit of a) pervert, domestic fluff, talk of medication, apparently werewolves don’t like to wear clothes (what is my canon...), talk of life and death, mention of blood, mild swearing

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.

Well, here it is, earlier and much longer than originally planned. It’s also a lot more tragic and philosophical than I intended it to be, but then again, what else can you expect from a tragedian fascinated by the human condition even as it is translated into the realm of the magical?

I think I just thought of the modern literary movement I might belong to: magic realism.

It’s a crying shame the Decadent Movement isn’t active anymore, though, because that one truly feels like a good fit for me both as an author and an individual. Ah well, c’est la vie.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

There is nothing better for a wolf than being with its mate.

Well, there is one thing.

Having them completely at your mercy as you’re inside them.

I still don’t understand what the plastic wrapping is good for, but Jinyoung was very insistent on using it while we drove to the airport. And Y/N seemed glad I had whatever it is, her scent even betraying a hint of relief. However, one day, I hope she’ll tell me not to use it.

No, that’s not right. There’s a word for the… whatever it is.

A condom.

That’s the word.

I hope she’ll tell me not to use a condom. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in season or not, although the chances she’ll pup are higher if I am. I want pups with her, a little pack of our own. I want it to be our toddler running around the park, chasing its sibling. Then again, will I remain human long enough to see them grow up?

Will I even remember their birth on the day they’re born?

Will I still be here?

Or remain without a family, a proud bloodline?

I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight bathing the room in a warm golden hue, swallow hard and force myself to calm down. There is no use in contemplating this now, not this early in the day nor in our time together. What counts is that I’m here now with Y/N in my arms and we’re in her apartment somewhere.

A faint whiff of brine seeps in through the air cleaner filter above the window overlooking the city. A gull flies by and lands on the roof of the building opposite ours.

Sea. Rusted metal. Right, the old harbour.

A high-pitched noise, a disquiet hum followed by a sigh, makes my ears perk up. I look down at the lady sleeping on my chest, curled up and fingers balled into small fists similar to a bunny’s paws. More importantly, however, she’s perfectly alright and was only unconsciously trying to get more comfortable.

A breathless chuckle rises in my throat at the display. Y/N’s adorable even when she’s fast asleep, her lips parted yet not enough to allow drooling.

I, on the other hand, am another story. I don’t do it often, but I must have been so tired last night I triggered the habit. The finger I swipe over the corners of my mouth comes away wet both times.

Oh no, I didn’t drool on her, did I? Would she mind, though, if I explained it’s a sign I’m comfortable with her?

It isn’t hard to guess the answer to the question. She would beat me over the head, likely with a shoe, and say I’m not allowed to bite her at all anymore. Not even in the future.

In a hurry to discover whether I made the fatal mistake, I check her messy hair but keeping my movements controlled to not wake her up. Fortunately, there are no locks sticking together nor a trail running down over the side of her face.

With a deep sigh, I slump further down into the bed again and kiss her crown. However, I don’t go back to sleep despite the comfort of the sheets. Instead, I lift the lady’s head and gently put her down on the pillow as I get up, carefully calculating every movement like I do when hunting to make sure she won’t wake up or notice my absence in her unconscious state.

The faint smell of burned iron comes from somewhere when I rearrange the sheets to bundle Y/N up. My mouth dries up, throat blocked by something I can’t swallow as a familiar stench disturbs the morning happiness. Former intentions abandoned, I claw through the sheets to try and discover where the rank odour comes from.

Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Why is she bleeding? Where is it? Where’s the blood?

As suspected, the frantic search wakes the pretty lady. Propped up on an elbow, eyes half-closed and brows furrowed, she turns to me. “Jae, what-’’ she yawns, “What’re you doing?”

Barely has she asked the question or I find what I’ve been looking for.

On her side of the bed, between her thighs, is a puddle of dried blood.

Where did it come from? Did I… Did I do this?

I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close to check her condition, turning her this way and that as each thought grows more troubled. “Are you okay?” There’s nothing to see on the bare skin of her upper body. “Are you hurt?”

Maybe the wound is somewhere lower, on her hip or leg. I didn’t bite her last night. Right? I didn’t hurt her. At least, I don’t think I did. No. Surely the wolf- I wouldn’t harm her. I had enough control to prevent that from happening. Yes, that’s the case.

But then, with a fading mind, how much can I trust myself?

“Jaebeom, I’m fine. What are you- ah.” Y/N notices the spot of dark crimson when I pull the sheets completely off the bed and toss them aside. She lets out an incomprehensibly careless chuckle, evidently oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“What are you giggling about? Y/N, you’re bleeding!” I bark, lost.

A small paw cups my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin in an attempt to calm me down. “You took my virginity. It’s natural to bleed a little when that happens.”

“Are you still in pain?” Even though it’s natural, surely it’s not without repercussions. Otherwise, the stain wouldn’t be there.

“No, I’m not, silly. I’m okay.” She kisses the tip of my nose when I let out a whine, unhappy with the response. Withal, a curious tone in her voice overtakes my own displeasure. “Are you?”

Why do you say it like that?

She sounds weird, hinting at something I’m supposed to find as obvious as she. Yet, I have no clue about what it can be. So, I tilt my head and stare blankly at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’m fine.”

My choice of words makes her visibly flinch despite the effort to hide it. The sleepiness which glazed her eyes evaporated, leaving them devoid of the amusement at my failure as a human. The recognizable sour note of anxiety creeps back into her scent, setting off alarm bells in my mind. “I’m alright. No pain. Happy to be here. Happy to wake up next to you.”

I rub her arms in a poor attempt to make her calm down, have her scent return to its spring-like fruitiness. She is supposed to smell like fresh fruit still hanging from the trees, yet to ripen. Not like fallen fruit beginning to decay in the summer sun.

“Okay,” is all she says in response before she pulls away, the absence of the warmth of her palm sending a cold shiver throughout my body.

The world always seems a little colder without her.

“Want breakfast?” A low grumble pierces the silence following the question, giving me enough of a response. And a reason to get my head, no, that’s not the idiom. To get my thoughts ordered. Organized. To get my thoughts in order? To think about… stuff. Last night. This. Everything. “Never mind. I’m making you breakfast. You have to eat.”

I stand up and head for the bathroom to first get rid of the weird plastic wrapping she put on me last night. Having thrown it in the bin there after a bit of an awkward struggle removing it, I move to the kitchen. Nevertheless, I don’t start preparing food right away. Instead, I pick up the grey hoodie I gave her from the bag between the sofa and chair facing the kitchen. I remember how she held it up to her nose, breathed in and basked in the scent.

My scent.

A fragment of last night’s memory.

I remember we had sex and that she told me I’m her first, but afterwards things are blurry.

Smell. I said something about how nicely she smells. Not really an original compliment since I’ve said it a lot already, but I can’t help but focus on it.

And then…

Then…

Then instinct took over because I let it, thinking I’d remain in control even though I let go a little. After all, I’ve learned enough to know how to deal with the wolf inside thanks to the rehabilitation procedure Jinyoung put me through and supervised. Since then, there’s been a healthy balance between human and beast in my mind.

Or, rather, there was one.

I think.

Another boundary to watch out for. I have to keep myself in check. No more experimenting.

Because to do so is to forget.

And I want to remember.

I stop absent-mindedly thumbing the piece of clothing, drape it over the armrest of the sofa and head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Unfortunately, the fridge quickly brings my plan to a halt, empty except for a pack of soy milk and a tray of eggs. The groceries Jinyoung and I got were only enough for dinner last night and there are no leftovers.

To be fair, she did just come back from a trip abroad. But still, is there really nothing to work with?

I sigh in defeat and grab the plant-based milk to pour it over the apple and cinnamon granola I find in the cupboard above the sink. At least it’s food and drink in one meal.

From the drawer next to the oven, I grab two spoons which I put into the bowls, grab the hoodie from the couch and return to the bedroom.

Y/N sits with her back turned to me, but flips around a little too fast for my liking once she hears my paws approaching. “Jaebeom?”

The terrible mixture of barely suppressed horror and genuine concern in her gaze has translated into her voice, which is cold and calculating. The sour note of anxiety hasn’t faded from her scent, creating a stone to sink to the bottom of my stomach because there’s only one thing that can be a distressing factor this early in the day.

Me.

Withal, the reason why she’s scared puzzles me since I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I’ve simply been me since I woke up.

Human.

Although, that’s me now.

Last night, I don’t know who or what I was though it isn’t hard to guess.

The pretty lady traces the deep indentation in the headboard of the bed with her fingers bent to resemble a claw. “Did you do this?”

Did- Did I? No. I- I don’t know. I was less strict with myself last night and don’t remember much, but surely I wasn’t gone enough to do this.

I hope.

I think.

I’m not sure.

But the reality provides the necessary evidence to repute any kind of denial I can offer.

I set the bowls down on the nightstand and crawl back on the bed to sit next to her. Gently, I nudge her hand aside to mimic her action, my own fingers perfectly fitting into the large gash. “I don’t know.”

A surge of violence shoots throughout my body, triggering the nagging feeling of a forgotten memory strong enough to knock the air out the lungs and split my skull with flashes of a memory. Nevertheless, the fragments pass by too fast to make sense of them and the mere attempt to do so worsens the headache. I flinch and scramble backwards with a paw- a hand pressed to my head as if I can thus suppress the pain. Yet, I remain unable to look at anything but the damage.

“I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice hardly louder than a scared whisper.

“I felt your skin move beneath my fingers last night,” Y/N starts, catching my attention with the timid response suggestive of requiring more explanation.

Exactly what I don’t have since I can’t even explain it myself.

This shouldn’t be happening.

“I think I did, at least,” she adds doubtfully on a shivery breath. The sourness sweetens to doubt instead of anxiety. Nonetheless, it’s still worrying she’s ill… uncomfortable.

“Did I-“ I swallow hard, forcing out the words describing my worst nightmare. “Did I transform?”

“Transform?’’ She briefly turns her gaze from me to the indentation, lips parted in an attempt to articulate a thought that’s dismissed with a headshake the second thereafter. Her attention returns to me, her expression slackened. ‘’What are you- What… No, you didn’t, but you looked far away. Retreated further into your own world, more so than you normally are.”

“That’s good,” I mumble, nodding as I, too, briefly return my attention to the claw mark. “Was human. Good.”

Still, need to talk to the weird-smelling intruder. Doctor. Friend. Name, his name. Jinyoung. Jesus, man, get yourself together. Your name is Im Jaebeom. You’re a twenty-eight old werewolf that- no, who runs a bookshop called Paper Souls. Jinyoung is your friend, doctor and supervisor appointed to you by... by... some organization.

“Jaebeom,” the pretty lady puts her hand on my shoulder, features softened instead of frozen and marred by fear, “have you taken your medication yet?”

The natural fruity undertone seems forced to be stronger.

You should be scared. I might have- I made that claw mark. Why treat me like a human? I’m a wolf.

“Me- Med-“ The strange word barely registers until a spark of humanity recalls its definition. “Medication. Pills. No, I- I haven’t.”

“Let me grab a glass of water and get them.”

She ruffles my hair, jumps off the bed and rushes out of the room. I listen to her bare feet lightly treading the floor as she moves on the other side of the wall, hurried steps going from the hallway, where she rummages in my coat for the rattling bottle of pills, to the kitchen. There, she opens a cupboard to grab a glass. The loud clinking of glass alongside the sour undertone in her scent indicates she almost accidentally caused several to fall out and break on the tiles. Fortunately, judging by the deep sigh of relief, Y/N could prevent it from happening.

She turns on the tab, fills the glass with water, turns the tab off and walks back into the room.

“There you go,” she says, handing me the small brown bottle and water.

The mattress dips a bit when she sits down next to me with one of the bowls filled with cereal in her hands. After stirring the spoon around like she is trying to evade something, Y/N finally takes a first careful bite. Nevertheless, she starts eating properly after I kiss her temple, which is an apparently effective form of encouragement. I have to remember that.

Quietly seated in the golden sunlight, we have our first breakfast together. I don’t mind her watching me as I’m taking my medication, measuring out the amount Jinyoung told me to take. Or, rather, as much as the label notes I should. Immediately my gag reflex is triggered when I put them in my mouth, the taste of bitter metal extremer than before so it’s like licking one of the rusted over buoys drifting in the harbour.

He’s increased the nightshade and silver. Damn, I think even the worst coffee tastes better than this.

“That bad?”

“Yep.” I open and close my mouth, nauseous due to the sickening taste lingering on my tongue. To prevent the bile rising in my throat from escaping, I gulp down the water. Unfortunately, it only washes down part of the bitterness.

She holds up a spoon with milk-soaked granola to feed to me, but I turn it down and shake my head. I might actually throw up if I eat anything right now.

Disappointment flashes across her face, though it’s gone in an instant as she puts her bowl down and stands up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“But... food,” I meekly offer and point at the half-empty bowl on the nightstand. She should put herself before me.

Because I’ll be fine.

“We’re missing something important. Coffee,” the bunny-like lady playfully responds before she bounces off again to the kitchen.

The pleasant and slightly sweet scent of instant cappuccino warms the apartment, replacing the sharp scent of frozen water alluding to hail later on in the day. It’s a little early in the year, but soon the first snows will fall.

Hopefully, she’ll move before then so we can spend Christmas in her cottage. Although, it doesn’t even have to be the holidays. I’d light a fire, drape a blanket over our shoulders and keep Y/N close to warm her with mine as we read and look at the snowfall.

Like a snowflake falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling before our eyes, so we pass through life. At this rate, I think the next snowfall might be the last I’ll see.

Consciously.

Meaningfully.

Like a human.

The snowflake will faintly fall on the man I am, descend on the husk I’m becoming, while she will continue living.

Without me.

The living and the dead.

I smile wistfully until the same shot of pain treks through me as when I tried to fill in the gaps of the fragmented memory. Folded in on myself, cold sweat on my skin and short of breath, I press my palms against my snout to push the agony away.

The pained groaning must have alarmed the pretty lady because she rushes to my side and pushes one of the mugs in her little paws… hands in mine. “Here, take a sip. The caffeine will help.”

As told, I nip at the hot beverage. Indeed, the cappuccino lessens the headache and cold shivers that ran down my spine and threatened to spread. Though I dislike instant coffee, it actually tastes good when she prepares it. I sigh in relief, blow on the coffee to cool it down, and slowly drink it while Y/N caresses my jaw and ear just the way I like it. At the same time, she comforts me with her soothing voice, murmuring words of solace and assurance as she sits down next to me again.

I could listen to you all day. Maybe I should ask you to read to me sometime. Although, not maybe. I’ll ask it later. Note to self, write a note on your phone to ask her to read to you. Also, make note of kissing her temple.

My reverie is broken up by a comment which rubs me the wrong way. “I have to go to the office later today-’’

“Already? You just got home.”

“They’re counting on me, Jae. Besides, I’m not that jet-lagged.”

“It’s not healthy. You should stay home. Rest,” I bark. Her eyes widen, taken aback by my bluntness.

She opens and closes her mouth, planning to say something yet deciding against it. Instead, she tugs my ear. “I’ll be fine. And you have your shop to look after, so let’s both work hard today.”

“Still,” I take another sip, “I don’t think you should go.”

“As long as I have caffeine, I should be able to manage. How about this? I’ll come to your shop as soon as I’m done with work and cook for us. We’ll have a cosy night in like we had last night.”

“Last night was ‘cosy’ indeed,” I murmur, hoping she catches on to what I’m alluding to.

“It was. I really liked it.” Her lashes flutter with the memories of last night, cheeks tinged pink. Unfortunately, the heartstopping girlish giggle is short-lived and becomes serious too soon. “But while I did, I think we shouldn’t do it again so soon.”

“Agreed,” I respond, mind occupied by the ripples of transformation and the splashes of pain wanting to remember something significant only communicated in incomprehensible flashes.

Distorted.

Like the memories of the forest.

I need to call Jinyoung. He needs to know.

“What shall we eat tonight?”

The change in subject is welcome, but also a confusing bridge to cross. How can humans go from severe to casual without a care? The aspect of communication has me furrow my brows as I try to work out the mech… work… nuts and bolts behind it. Nevertheless, I answer the question. “I thought you had a plan already.”

The corners of her mouth curl up into a cat-like grin. “I have no idea, so that’s why I’m asking you. You’re a better chef than I am.”

“I’m not that good,” I murmur, my ears lowered like a shy pup. “But I’d like something we can make together.”

“Pancakes?”

“Yes!’’ I bark, leaning in and grabbing the sheets to contain the excitement at cooking together. ‘’Yes, I’d like that!”

A flicker of doubt passes over her face, hesitant in the way she tends to be when it concerns food. However, a second later, she taps me on the nose with a content hum. “Pancakes it is.”

While Y/N showers, I clean the dishes and pull the sheets off of the bed so she can bring them to the laundry. Although, maybe I could do it myself. I’d have to text Jinyoung for instructions since he always does mine, but even then it shouldn’t be too difficult. Humans do laundry all the time. It’s part of their routine and if they can do it, so can I.

I hope.

As I’m making the bed and contemplating the process to get at least the blood stain out of the fabric, my mate walks back into the room. Her wet hair is bundled up in a towel that’s smaller than the one wrapped around her body. The addition of the scents of cherry blossoms and matcha to the blend of summer fruits drives me dizzy as she moves to the wardrobe.

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help looking as the towel falls to the floor to reveal her naked body. An appreciative growl unconsciously rises from my throat, a surge of heat culminating between my legs.

Just one more time. I’ll keep myself in check. Behave. I’ll behave.

“Jaebeom,” cheeks flushed, Y/N glances over her shoulder, “don’t even think about it.”

“Sorry,” I mumble as I shuffle to her side to help her put on her bra by closing the clasps. When they click in place, I place a kiss between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against my lips. “I know what we agreed on.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and let my head rest on her shoulder. Eyes closed, I try to keep a clear mind as she scratches me behind the ear.

“It’s not necessarily... that.” Her voice is light, wanting to move past the concerns of last night with humour. “It’s rather the thought I wouldn’t get to leave for the office at all if we go back to bed.”

“You’re right.” I decide to play along, if only to give us both some peace of mind. So, I bury my nose in the side of her neck, nuzzling her and earning myself a bird-like giggle that spreads a nice fuzzy feeling inside. “I wouldn’t let you go. We’d read the day away with coffee.”

“Tea, in your case. Doctor’s orders. I don’t want you bouncing around the place. You’re my calm, well, sort of calm bookish wolf. Not a supercharged husky.”

It’s a lame joke, but nevertheless makes me laugh.

“What will you wear today?” I ask, glancing at the clothes on the hangers.

Here and there, there’s a colourful item in the collection. Withal, the majority of the items are mono… one-toned... black and white items to be switched up with a dark-shaded checkered blouse.

My attention drifts to the long white dress with lemons. The fabric is on the thin side, which makes it suitable for summer or a warm spring.

I’d love to see you in that dress, if only just once.

She pouts her lips. “I was thinking about grey high-waisted jeans with a black button-up shirt and ankle boots.”

“Wear my hoodie,” I whine, upset my… my girlfriend. That sounds nice. My girlfriend. It makes me upset that my girlfriend doesn’t plan on wearing one of the things I gave her. “You like the grey one, right?”

“I do, but-’’

“Then wear it.”

She sighs, shakes her head and turns around to look up at me. “There’s something like a dress code at the office.”

“Don’t care.” I nudge her nose with mine, bark lowered to a woof to persuade her to go with my choice. “You’ll look better. More pretty.”

“If you put a pair of boxers on, I’ll wear the hoodie. Deal?”

“But they’re uncomfortable. I only wore them because Jinyoung told me to.”

“Then I won’t wear the hoodie.” Little devilish will-o’-the-wisps light up her eyes as the corners of her mouth curl up into a taunting grin. “Shame. Now my colleagues won’t get to see I have a boyfriend.”

The tables have flipped since I’m apparently not the only one who’s good at using their charms.

Nevertheless, reluctant to start a fight over this, I let out a compromising chuff. “Okay, fine.”

Humans and their clothes. I like yours, but you’d look even better in mine. Still, I’m only doing this because I want every male at your office and in the city to know you’re mine.

No matter what size they are, clothing is a thing I absolutely haven’t missed. Notwithstanding, to please my mate, I wriggle myself back into the tight short trousers and the loose pants to wear over them. Y/N gives me a warning look when she sees me fumbling with my shirt, hopefully missing out on the obvious clue I secretly hope she’ll let me off easy.

Of course she doesn’t.

“Yes, Jae, also the shirt,” she chastises me like a mother disciplines a rebellious pup. “And the shoes. You don’t want other people to call the cops after seeing a naked man in the streets.” Unaware of the fact I can hear her perfectly even as she mutters under her breath, she adds. ‘’Or me to pick you up at the police station because of it.’’

Amused by the funny image the fantastical scenario creates in my mind, I relent. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once we’re both dressed, Y/N makes way for the bathroom to do her makeup. Ignoring my protests it’s unnecessary since there’s nothing to hide or improve to make me love her more, she closes the door behind her and locks it.

There goes the plan of dragging her out of there by the collar to have her scratch my jaw and ear again instead. A much better way to pass the time, if you ask me.

In the meanwhile, I return to the bedroom to take a picture of the damage with my phone and send it to Jinyoung.

Jaebeom: We need to talk.

Immediately, I get a response.

Jinyoung: Yes, we absolutely do. Everything OK?

Jaebeom: Yes, Y/N is fine. Alive. A little shaken, but so am I. Well, we’re more than a little shaken. Fuck, Jinyoung, I don’t know what happened.

Jinyoung: I’ll drop by later today. I have to give a lecture in a bit and have to see a new patient afterwards. He’s going through the reintegration program right now and needs a little extra help.

Jaebeom: Help with what? What is he?

Jinyoung: A wolf. Not a standard case.

Jaebeom: Anything I can help with?

Jinyoung: I think you need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll be at the shop around two.

Footsteps disturb the silence, going from the bathroom to the hallway.

That was quick. Are females always this fast with applying their face?

It’s a funny phrase, ‘applying my face’. Also, it’s the argument the pretty lady used as the final word on the matter. But she already has a face so there’s no need to apply a second like some Greek god.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Ears perked, I glance around the corner into the living room and in Y/N’s direction.

“Work?” she answers sheepishly, looking back at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. In her hands is the black trench coat she was about to put on.

Fortunately, she’s kept her makeup natural with a golden brown eyeshadow, a bit of a black line to accentuate her eyes and something to enhance her lashes. It’s a natural look which some of the female customers could learn from with their fake lips or chest that makes them reek of silicone and plastic. Their makeup, often overemphasizing their fake features, doesn’t add to their supposed charm. In fact, it makes me turn my snout away even faster if their attitude already hasn’t.

I’d never offer them coffee or want them around more than once.

But not her.

Not Y/N.

I can’t remember if she wore the same makeup when we met, but I vaguely recall a sense of calm and need for protection alongside a strange recognition. A connection that would make all the puzzle pieces of my life fit together.

The missing last piece.

“Not so fast.” I swiftly move to her side to kiss her forehead. No way I’m letting her go without giving her at least one more.

“There,” I pet her head, griggling and sweeping my tail triumphantly, “now you’re free to go.”

“I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, you know?” She stands on the tip of her toes to peck me on the lips, slightly swaying side to side to keep her balance.

So I lean forward to make it easier for her and chuckle against her lips. “Have a good day at work, Y/N.”

“You too, Jae.”

And with that, she puts on her coat, grabs her bag and opens the front door. She lingers in the doorway, waving half-heartedly as a final word of goodbye.

I wave back, faking a smile to see her off without worry.

Being human again isn’t so bad.

However, the deadline is another story.

The shop is as tranquil as it is on any other day. The quietness of unread words hangs between the shelves, the only noise to disrupt the silence being the rustle of a page being turned. Seated by the window as per usual, listening to the hail in the dim light, I read the time away, but whereas it’s normally a form of amusement and pleasure, it now functions in part to forget this morning’s discovery.

I didn’t mean to pry, but I inspected Y/N’s bookshelves before I left her apartment. There was the usual assortment of classics, but also a lot of Asian fiction, a genre I haven’t delved into too much yet. So, of course with the intention of returning it, I took Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami with me.

She must have read it recently because her fruity scent still lingers on the paper. The summer blend distracts me to the point that the movement of the hands of the clock pass unnoticed in the background.

Regardless of the appointed time, it’s half past two instead of two o’clock that Jinyoung comes in. In his one hand he holds a carrier with two paper cups, the sleeves on them decorated with the silhouette of a black wolf and the name of the café printed in vintage letters beneath the design, the letters spelling out Wolf’s. Judging by the scent, it’s tea the doctor has brought with him. Apple cinnamon for me, since that’s the only one I like, and rooibos for himself.

In his other hand, he holds his bag. One of the claps has either not been fastened before he left or came undone along the way. Whatever the reason, it’s clear he came here in a hurry.

“Sorry I’m late. Christian and I had a lot more to discuss than we thought.” Jinyoung stumbles inside, puts the tea and his bag on the counter, and turns around to lock the door and flip the sign so we can talk in private.

A hint of leather mixed with coffee and wood is mixed in with his own.

Male.

Threat.

Teeth gritted and jaw clenched, I make a mental note to myself to keep this scent away from Y/N. To keep this Christian away from her.

“Jaebeom,” the other male sighs. His tone holds a silent warning of being close to breaking some kind of boundary.

“What?” The answer rolls off the tongue as a growl rather than an actual question. Not that it matters since he must have had a lot worse to endure from me. Besides, it’s not him I’m pissed at so he’s safe.

Although, the wild undertone in his already peculiar personal blend alludes to the opposite.

Has he always smelled like this or is this new? He is human, but then why does my instinct tell me to watch out for him, that there’s more than to him? Strange.

“He’s no competition. I think he might have imprinted with my colleague, although neither he nor she might be aware of it.” He rolls his eyes. “The gods know whether Gráinne will do anything with it. I wonder if... no, I don’t think either of them told her anything.”

A grim wistfulness stains his voice, which ignites a curiosity about his colleague’s circumstances. Notwithstanding, that story will have to wait until another day and his willingness to tell me.

Still, I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, open the notes app, and jot down a short reminder to ask about it at a later date.

“Anyway,” Jinyoung steps away from the door, hands me the cup with apple cinnamon tea, and gestures at the worn couch by the window overlooking the west side of the neighbourhood, “we’re here to talk about you. About the picture you sent.”

We move away from the counter to the sofa. A burst of hail spatters against the glass as we sit down.

I’m glad to have something to hold to conceal the shivers running through my body at the image of the claw mark mixed with the memory of what Y/N told me she felt. Or, rather, thought she felt although I’m certain she actually did feel the first ripples of transformation.

For a moment, we sit in silence as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. Nipping on the tea with my shoulders curled over my chest, I try to reconstruct last night as best I can.

As much as my memory lets me.

To break the... something. There’s an idiom, no, a phrase? A saying.

I don’t know.

Not anymore.

To make it easier, likely noticing the struggle to say anything, Jinyoung speaks up. “There’s more than the photo. You’re leaving things out, things I need to know to help. What aren’t you telling me, Jaebeom?”

“Y/N-” I begin, my breath unsteady as I restart the sentence, “Y/N said she felt my skin move and if I try to remember last night, I can only recall fragments that give me a headache when I try to string them together. Which I can’t.”

He pales, frozen in place as the weird briny scent sours. “That shouldn’t-’’

“Shouldn’t happen,” I finish the remark.

A horrifying idea arises that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end and has me nervously tapping my thumbs together as I try not to squeeze the cup in my paws. Nonetheless, voice a low woof bordering on a melancholic whine, I tell the doctor what’s on my mind. “I think the pills stopped working. Completely. I- I don’t think-’’

The world stops, shrinks, and strings my chest as tight as a string as I shrink within myself. Each thought evaporates as fast as the flashes in the wolf’s memory, incoherent if meant to be sensible at all.

The snow hasn’t even come.

I can’t leave her alone.

I don’t want to leave this life.

I don’t want to go just when being human again starts to get good.

I don’t want to be the old me again.

“I think so too,” Jinyoung agrees grimly. “If I increase the silver and nightshade or the doses it will kill you.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes sharp with focus as he poses the question I’ve been wondering about myself. “Does she know what you are?”

I shake my head. I might be her weirdo wolf guy, but she’d never believe me if I told her what I really am. Besides, werewolves are the stuff of fiction these days.

We’re no longer seen as a real threat nor have the power and status we used to have in the days of yore. We are devoid of an identity acknowledged by humans.

But, if I don’t possess an identity, am I really here?

Alive?

Or dead like the wolf inside?

Paradise is calling, the song of the forest playing like a red thread through my broken memory.

Beckoning me home.

The woods are calling.

And I must not go.

Jinyoung’s new question pulls me out of my reverie, just in time before the train of thought would crash and burn. “Are you going to tell her?”

“No.” I take a sip of the sweet tea, to have a second of bliss and enjoy a new human pleasure.

Another happiness I discovered a little too late.

“Will you at least tell her about your meds?” Even though she’s seen me take them, Y/N doesn’t know what they’re for. But, then again, did she look at the label?

Regardless of whether she did or not, she’s perhaps not truly ignorant to the reason I have to take them. After all, she thinks they combat my amnesia, which is partially true. It’s a half-truth.

But the real reason is a secret I intend to keep.

“No,” I repeat, determined in my answer regardless of the world spinning out of control. “I won’t tell her.”

“She deserves that much, doesn’t she? She’s your girlfriend, Jay.’’ Although his features have softened, the doctor’s voice rises to a fierce bark as he reinforces his point. ‘’Your mate.”

“I can’t tell her,’’ I retort, my bark closer to a growl than a civilized answer. Tears brim on the edge of my lashes, obscuring my vision in spite of my attempts to blink them away. The vision of Y/N by herself in the snow, on her knees in the middle of the orchard, blocks my throat and makes breathing harder than it already was.

The vision changes to the image of a spring day close to summer, warm enough for her to wear the dress with the lemons. She’s seated in the same position between the trees which are now white and pink with blossom. However, whereas her belly was flat before, it’s now swollen, pregnant with pups.

My pups?

No, I have to stay here.

I have to survive the winter.

I have to be here if I ever change my mind and want to start a pack with her.

I must be here.

But the question is whether I actually can.

At this rate, I’m not sure.

I don’t know.

But I know enough to explain why I’m reluctant to tell my pretty lady anything. ‘’I can’t tell her, because the news will hurt her and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Plus, what am I supposed to say? I’m a wolf that turned into a man and is slowly dying, going back to his old form in which it... he. Am human. In which he’ll be stuck until it- He! Am human! Until he dies?

“Y/N has to know about this, Jaebeom.’’ A hand on my shoulder makes me look up from the floor to the man next to me. ‘’How about I talk to her, tell her what you told me and discuss what our options are as well as a plan for the future?”

“You’re right.” I let out a mirthless griggle. “Fuck, I hate it when you are. But… But how will you… explain, uhm, explain… this- me! How will you explain me? What I am? For all she cares, werewolves are my- myth- fic-’’ I throw my head back, frustrated I can’t find the right word or properly speak.

Jinyoung gives me an encouraging squeeze, kindheartedly chuckling at my failure. “I know what you mean. Nobody comes into our world willingly or at least without a good reason. I think your... situation is enough of the latter for her to get involved too. She doesn’t have to join the branch, I’ll leave that up to her. But, if Y/N decides to believe me, or us for that matter, she’ll at least have a community to rely on when you, you know, you’re...”

“When I’m gone.’’ The hesitance to state the facts makes me grimace and my tone sharper than intended. ‘’We both know where this is heading so just say it.”

“Fine,’’ the doctor puts his hands up as if he’s at the risk of being shot ‘’when you’re gone.”

“What’ll happen to the shop?” I gesture around the paper paradise, changing the topic slightly. Books have been another treasure of humanity I will forever be grateful for, especially since I hopefully have created a legacy with them that’s worth keeping.

The doctor glances around, a somber expression on his face. “Either the university will keep it and maintain it as a potential workplace in the reintegration program or sell it off. I don’t know, real estate doesn’t fall within my jurisdiction.”

“Ah, I see.” I lower my head, gaze averted to the half-empty cup in my paws.

Funny how I once thought of making this a family business or to have at least my pup’s name on the spine of one of these books. If I ever had them, would they like to be a writer? Would Y/N tell them their absent father, I... I love... loved to read?

I force myself to forget the thought, swallow despite having a dry mouth, and shake my head. “Thank you. For wanting to tell her. She’ll come over tonight, so-’’

He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ll text her so we can meet at a later date. She just returned from a business trip and had quite the evening with you. You two deserve a bit of rest.”

“But what if...”

It’s unlikely, but what if it happens again? What if I spin out of control tonight?

“Keep your temper in check and try to suppress your instinct,” Jinyoung answers matter-of-factly.

So, no sex.

Although the unspoken implication doesn’t come as a surprise, I can’t help but feel disappointed even though Y/N and I agreed on not doing it again so soon. Notwithstanding, it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to do it again this morning. But then there was the pool of blood and the amnesia that ruined our morning bliss.

All the same, flashes of what I do remember from last night replay in my mind.

They say once you’ve had a wolf, you never go back. Maybe because I won’t let you.

She looked beautiful, tears glistening in her eyes, equally as beautiful as her meek whimpers. She’s so small and fragile, easy to overpower.

To conquer.

“Your mind’s…. gutter again, isn’t it?” A groan sounds from somewhere on the side, distant like a faint echo

I was inside her.

In spite of the weird plastic, she felt nice.

Warm.

Wet.

I replay the image of her whimpering on the sheets as I looked down at her over and over. My hand on her cheek and Y/N keeping it in place. I should have used that second to dive down and worship her soft breasts more.

I could have bitten her there. Just a small bite on the side.

The snapping of a pair of fingers before my eyes interrupts the pleasant reverie. A bit offended, I snap around to growl at whoever took the pleasure of a cherished memory away.

Only to face Jinyoung, who sighs and looks down at the bulge in my pants before pursing his lips with an exasperated knowing expression as he looks up.

Scrambling to regain my composure and hardly remembering what he said, I answer as best I can. “No!”

“Then why are you drooling?”

#JB #Jaebeom #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #JB smut #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom x Reader #Jaebeom fanfiction #Jaebeom smut #GOT7 Werewolf AU #Werewolf AU #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf!JB

92 notes · View notes