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sunnybeewriting · 2 years

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Finding Purpose

Hey guys! So this is actually only the second thing I have ever written. As well, I’ve only watched the first Avatar a few times and I’ve only seen the second Avatar once since it came to theaters, so I’m not going to pretend I have a lot of knowledge when it comes to Avatar or the culture, animals, or people in it. But I also tried my best to get things accurate, so if things are not then I am sorry! Anyways, if you like it, please leave a like or a comment!

WARNINGS: None

TAGS: Family feels, fluff

WORD COUNT: 5,055

As you prepare for your first solo hunt, you discover what really matters to you and how far you would go to protect it.

Your mind groggily awakens, and your senses slowly come back to you. You’re lying in your bedroll, waking up after a restless night of sleep. You can hear the soft breathing of your siblings still in the room. As you awaken, your thoughts become less like drifting clouds and more of something solid. There was a reason for your restlessness, you recall distantly, something that had made it difficult for you to find sleep. Something that made your body and mind both buzz with anticipation…

Your eyes pop open and you jolt upwards from your resting position.

The hunt is today!

The full force of your elation surges through your veins once more and you quickly bounce from your bedroll and onto your feet. Your siblings are all still asleep in their own sleeping pads, all sprawled with long limbs and soft snoring.

Neteyam has one of his arms thrown around Lo’ak’s neck, holding him tightly in a way that seems almost like a chokehold. On his left side, his other arm is splayed out palm side upwards across Kiri’s stomach, who is almost completely out of her own bedroll. Sweet Tuk lays sleeping closer to the bedroll of your parents; she claims it’s because they don’t toss and turn as much as your shared siblings, but you also think it may be because of how she just likes to be closer to her mom and dad.

Your sleeping pad is on the other side of Kiri, close to the entrance of the tent. Sometimes, when you find it hard to sleep, you like to listen to the sounds of the forest, the calls of the animals and the buzzing of the insects. It’s a calming lullaby that soothes your restless mind and helps you drift back to sleep.

It’s visible through the fabric of your home tent that it is barely dawn, the morning light still climbing its way into High Camp. Early time of morning or not, it was still the day you had been eagerly waiting a very long time for.

Your parents are already up and out of the tent by this time, performing their duties. Mom was usually gathering fruits and seeds for your siblings to eat when they awakened from their slumber, while Dad was most likely either fishing or seeing to clan tasks. As Olo'eyktan, your father was often busy overseeing the safety of the clan and making sure everything was in order. There are some days when you don’t see him until the next morning when he’s exhausted and grumpy, but you couldn’t be prouder to have him as your dad.

You quietly push open the front flap of the family tent to step outside into the large, shared cave of your clan. The family tents of your people are spread out the entire length of the cave, and you can already see others moving around. The air is fresh and cool against your skin as you continue your path to find either one of your parents. You take a moment to tilt your head back and take a deep breath of cool air into your lungs. Your tail flicks behind you as you walk, and your sensitive ears twitch as you listen to the low murmurings of your people.

You try to remember that you are striving for a relaxed and wise persona as you walk, to show that you are indeed a responsible adult now. Instead of the over-excited and naïve child many of your people still thought you were, you wanted to be seen as an adult. Even with those thoughts at the front of your mind, you can’t stop the smile on your face or the thrilled spring in your step.

As you bound up the steps to a section closer to the entrance of High Camp, where the Omaticaya clan often cooks and eats their meals, you see the back of your mother. She wears her usual attire of leather and flora, her dark hair braided back with feathers and beads. Her tall, slender frame blocks your view of whatever she is working on with her hands.

You bounce up to her, hands folded neatly behind your back and what you hope is a charming grin on full display. She turns her head around, takes one look at you, rolls her large, golden eyes, and turns back to her work. You would have taken insult to such a lackluster reaction to your arrival if it hadn’t been for the fond little smile that had appeared on her face when she saw you approaching.

“Hey, Mom! Guess what day it is?” you ask gleefully, hugging her around her waist from behind.

Your mother scoffs and gently pats one of the arms around her waist. You let go and move to the side of what she was working on and begin to help, hands quickly and efficiently pulling apart pieces of fruit and placing them on leaf plates.

“Hmmm. Is it perhaps the day of Lo’ak’s first hunt? Or perhaps, Neteyam’s?”

“Yes, yes, very funny.” You say, rolling your eyes in the same fashion she had done earlier.

She grins back at you, wide golden eyes relaxed, and then sets down what she had been working on. She grabs your hands, curls her fingers around them, and then says, “Oh, Ayviiri, I am so pleased to be here to see your first solo hunt. I know you’ve been waiting for this for a long time, and I commend your patience, something you surely did not get from your father. It was not long ago when I feared I would never see this day. I thank the Great Mother for our blessings.”

Your grip on her hands becomes tight, and you can feel your eyes begin to sting. It wasn’t often either of you became overtly emotional, but on momentous occasions like this, it was a sure thing.

You had yet to be born when your clan’s ancestral Hometree and the Tree of Souls had been destroyed by the Sky People. Both places, sacred and thousands of years old, had been razed to nothing but ash in less than a day. Hundreds of your people had been slaughtered, along with an untold number of ikran and direhorses. Your own mother’s father had died in her arms.

The overwhelming and devastating loss of so many clan members, their home, and their sacred place had shaped your childhood. You grew up seeing what impact that kind of grief had on your mother, as well as The People. It had given you an early appreciation of the simple things, such as your own home and family members. Mom often praised the Great Mother, Ewya, for the health and well-being of her mate and children. She had made sure you and your siblings grew up aware and prepared for how quickly things could change.

“Thank you, Mother.”

She softly grips the back of your neck and presses your foreheads together briefly, eyes gazing into yours. You can see your own reflection in them; your own wide, golden eyes, shape and color matching hers.

Mom had been the one to teach you how to shoot a bow, and Dad had been the one to teach you how to handle a knife and throw a punch. One was to teach you how to hunt, and the other to teach you how to defend yourself and kill anyone who meant you or your family harm.

At your age, you had already completed your Iknimaya and claimed your ikran, as well as made your first kill under your mother’s close, protective observation. Now, it was your turn to prove yourself to the clan that you could provide for yourself, your clan, and your family on your own terms. It was another step closer to becoming recognized as an adult of the Omaticaya Clan. Soon enough, you would complete the Ulitaron and become one of The People. Then, you would choose a mate.

I’m not anywhere near ready for that, though, you thoughtfully acknowledge. Someday you would like a mate, but until that day comes and you met the right person, you are fine just on your own.

She pulls back from you and you both continue to prepare the food in comfortable silence. Once you are finished, she bids you to go back to the family tent and gather your siblings.

You walk back and toss open the front flap of the tent once more. By this time the light coming into High Camp was bright and fierce, and the opening of the flap caused the inside of the tent to light up. A beam speared itself across the faces of Neteyam and Lo’ak, who both flinched and groaned at the disturbance. Kiri, on the other hand, slept on peacefully. Waking Kiri up was often as effective as successfully waking the dead. It seemed like she could sleep through anything, any noise or physical commotion. With the sensitive hearing of your species, this was a rare and impressive thing for one of your people to be able to do.

Little Tuk was still curled up in her bedroll further into the tent, face smushed into the thin blankets and eyes hiding away from the light. You decide to get her up first before you even try to deal with Kiri. Neteyam and Lo’ak are mostly up already, though their flailing limbs as they struggle to rearrange their position both away from one another and away from the light never fails to make you laugh. Their grumpy complaining, mussed braids, and bleary eyes were hilarious to you.

You approach Tuk and gently lay a hand on her shoulder, rocking her back and forth softly as you rouse her from her sleep.

“Hey Little Tuk, it’s time to wake up. It’s morning already, Mom has food ready for us and everything.”

Tuk whines but lets you pull her from her blankets by her armpits. You heft her up and onto the side of your hip, where she hides her face into the curve of your shoulder to rest a little bit longer. By this time, Neteyam is standing and rolling up his sleeping pad, hair still messy and eyes squinting. Lo’ak, though, is simply sitting up in his bedroll and staring around the tent blankly, clearly still very tired.

“Come on Lo’ak, aren’t you hungry? Mom found some fruit and lionberry seeds, I know those are your favorite.” You say enticingly. “I think Dad might be fishing, too.”

He gives you a roll of his eyes, but he also seems to pep up a little bit at that, finally standing tall and stretching with a loud groan. He bends down to also put away his bedroll. By the time you turn to Kiri, he and Neteyam are already heading outside. They’re also already shoving and teasing each other, which would have made you roll your eyes in fond exasperation if you weren’t already used to it.

You’re still holding onto Tuk when you squat and put a hand on Kiri’s shoulder. This close to her you can hear her soft snoring. You tighten your grip and shake her, gently at first, and then firmer as her snores continued.

“Come on, Kiri! You sleep like the dead. Come on, time to get up, time to rise and shine, let’s go!”

Her grumbling becomes louder as she is rudely roused from her deep sleep, and a pair of bright green eyes blearily glare at you from behind her thin blanket. You smile at her in turn. You’re not usually so happy in the mornings, but it’s a special day.

“There you are! Alright, Mom has food ready at our usual spot. We’ll meet you there!”

It always takes her a few extra minutes to finally rise completely out of her dreams, so you leave the tent and head back to the entrance where your mother and now brothers would be.

Tuk stays on your hip all the while, but her head is now risen and her eyes are alert as she takes in the fresh air around the cave. You can hear her humming a tune just beneath her breath. It reminds you of your mother’s singing, and you smile. You nudge her head with the side of your face, her soft braids tickling your neck. She looks up at you, grins, and continues humming. Usually, she was a talkative little girl, but it was probably too early to expect much enthusiasm.

You reach your family members just as your stomach starts growling. Tuk reaches out for Mom before you even sit down, and you gladly shift your grip and hand her over, hungry and eager to eat. Mom tuts softly before shifting Tuk to her side and sitting down, legs crossed.

Neteyam and Lo’ak are already digging into the leaf plates you had prepared, and you do the same. You savor the sweet taste of the fruit and seeds, juice spilling around your fingers and mouth before you use the back of your hand to wipe it away. You eat until you are full. Mom takes her time eating, pulling apart small pieces of fruit and handing them to Tuk, who eats them just as eagerly as the rest of her siblings.

You turn your head just in time to catch the devious look Lo’ak gives you. You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows in confusion, curious to see what sort of prank is about to follow. Before you can blink, he starts flicking seeds at Neteyam and then at yourself. Neteyam and you take the abuse for the first few seeds, before you share a look and team up against your brother, pelting him with seeds from both sides. You both laugh loudly as he squeals, shouting abuse. You only stop when your mother looks up from Tuk to give all three of you a stern look, and all three of you immediately sit back down. You share a guilty look with your brothers, but your mother’s potential disapproval doesn’t stop any of you from slyly smacking each other on the legs outside of her view, just for the fun of it.

So much for being more mature, you think.

You’re almost done with your plate by the time Kiri finally makes it out of the tent and down to your group. She grabs a plate of her own and starts eating before striking up a conversation with your mother.

You sit and listen to the talking of your family members. Mom wipes fruit juice off Tuk’s face and replies to Kiri’s question, while Lo’ak and Neteyam have long since finished their food and are having their own discussion. Usually you would participate, but today your thoughts are elsewhere, already out in the forest. You are still excited, but now that the initial thrill has faded with the early morning, nerves are beginning to fight their way in. You take in deep, full breaths to keep them at bay. You’ve been preparing for this for years, and you are sure you know what you are doing.

There’s no way you’re going to let such a little thing as nerves ruin this for you. Besides, if you weren’t ready, your parents would never allow you to do this. Their confidence in you means everything, and it speaks for itself. If they think you are ready, then you are ready, as simple as that.

That being resolved, you sit up straighter and nod your head firmly, confidence restored.

Lo’ak is saying something to Neteyam before remembrance appears on his face and he turns to you, interrupting himself mid-sentence to speak with you.

“Ayviiri! I had almost forgotten, today is your first hunt! Are you nervous, are you excited? Have you prepared your weapons? Have you picked your prey?”

Just like you, Lo’ak and Neteyam are eagerly awaiting their first solo hunt. While they have just completed their Iknimaya and claimed their ikran both, they have yet to make their first kill. Neteyam is only a year younger than you, Lo’ak two years, so it won’t be long before they are following in your footsteps and going on their own hunt alone.

Still, you are the eldest sibling, and it feels good to be doing something they have yet to accomplish. You laugh at your younger brother’s charming enthusiasm and say,

“Yes Lo’ak, my bow and arrows are prepared and waiting for me by the tent. As for my prey, Mom and Dad have suggested I choose something on the easier side, so I have chosen to hunt yerik for my first hunt.”

Choosing yerik, an animal certainly not known for its ferocity hadn’t been your initial pick, but you did so to relieve the stress put on your parents. Besides, a hunt was a hunt, and easy prey or not, there were always things that could go wrong. You didn’t mind being cautious, for now; you would have time to prove yourself a capable hunter and warrior in your own right to your siblings, your clan, but most importantly, to your parents.

As well, at least yerik wasn’t as easy of prey as fwampop would be, so there’s that. Yerik’s hearing is exceptionally good, and the scent organs on either side of its head help it smell the presence of a predator. While it wouldn’t be the hardest of hunts, it also wouldn’t be the easiest.

“Yerik. That’s awesome, Ayviiri! I can’t wait until I can go on my own hunt. I bet I’d take down three yerik on my own by the time I get to your age. Or, or talioang, all on my own. Yeah, I bet I’ll even be able to hunt palulukan – ow!” Lo’ak narrowly dodges Neteyam’s second hand that comes swinging over to smack him upside the head again.

“By the time you’re Ayviiri’s age, the only thing you’ll be able to hunt is fwampop, and even then, you’ll probably miss your first shot!” Neteyam throws his head back and laughs heartily at his own joke and his brother’s expense. You can’t help but giggle at the enraged look on Lo’ak’s face, upset at being insulted and having his dreams crushed in one swift blow. Even Mom has a smile on her face as she shakes her head fondly, Tuk giggling at her side as she always does when your brothers play fight.

“Anyways, as I was saying, that’s what I’ll be hunting.”

Mother lifts Tuk from her lap and stands up, resting her hands upon Tuks shoulders. “Well, my children, it is time to begin the day. We will complete our chores, and later today we will see our Marali off to her first hunt.”

And just like that, the excitement of the hunt makes you giddy once again. You leap to your feet, ready to get started. The faster you complete your duties, the faster your hunt begins.

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It took you a lot less time than normal to do everything you needed to do. By the time you and your siblings were done, you were all ready for another meal. You sat down beside your mom while Kiri, Neteyam, and Tuk sat nearby. Tuk sat in Neteyam’s lap, laughing at whatever Kiri was saying. You ate your food, careful not to scarf it down and choke in your eagerness.

“So, what’s Dad doing today?” You ask, picking up a slice of fruit and eating it whole.

“Your father had some issues to resolve within the clan today. Once those are taken care of, he will meet us at the entrance to see you off.”

You nod your head, picking at your plate once more.

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, my child?”

“Were you nervous when you went on your first hunt?”

You keep your eyes on your plate, chewing slowly. Your mother stills from where she had been picking up her own food, and then she sets it back down carefully.

“When I went on my first hunt, I wanted to be brave, to bring honor and to provide for my clan. But, I will admit, I was nervous when it came time to leave. I wasn’t so much worried about the kill than I was worried I would somehow make a mistake and come back with nothing, after all that fuss. It has happened before, with much less capable hunters who learned they have better skills in other places. In the end, I stopped thinking with my mind and started trusting my instincts and my skills, and that way I was successful in my first hunt.”

You nod slowly, finally looking up at your mother. She stares back at you, eyes caring and calm, before nodding herself and turning back to her meal.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course, my child.”

-------

You stand at the entrance of High Camp side by side with Neteyam. Mom, Tuk, Kiri, and Lo’ak stand to the side, having their own conversations as you wait patiently for the arrival of your father. Well, they might be waiting patiently. In your case, you are doing your best to remain relaxed, practically bouncing on your feet. The sincere discussion you had with your mother just a few hours ago had helped immensely with your nerves, but you still felt a little uneasy. Which was probably for the best, really; you should never go on a hunt completely calm. That’s a good way to lower your guard and get yourself killed. As your dad likes to say, a little fear is always healthy.

You snap out of your thoughts and realize you had been staring blankly at the ground. You blink a few times and straighten your back, and then realize Neteyam is staring at you expectantly, as though waiting for an answer to a question.

Whoops.

“Uh, what did you say?” You ask guiltily, grinning apologetically.

He stares at you, face serious, before reaching out and placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

“You know you’re going to be fine, right? I’ve been watching you since we were kids. You’re a good hunter, and a good fighter. You’ll do great.”

You look back at him for a few seconds, taking in the kind, sweet face of your little brother before smiling gratefully and placing your own hand on the one resting on your shoulder.

This kid. Sometimes it feels like he’s the older sibling and you are the younger.

“Thanks, Neteyam.”

He smiles back at you gladly before bringing his hand back to his side. He looks behind you, and his smile grows even bigger, transforming into a happy grin.

You’re about to turn to look behind yourself when a firm but gentle hand lands on the curve of your shoulder, and you know who it is without even having to turn around. It’s a familiar and loving weight, one that you’ve known since the day you were born.

You turn around quickly and met the proud eyes of your father, already smiling.

“Dad!” You shout and leap up to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. You’d never say it out loud simply to save your pride, but you are very relieved to see him.

He laughs and wraps his own arms around your slender body, and it’s a sound that you feel deep in your bones. You bury your face into his hair, and suddenly everything feels like it’s going to be alright. How could it not, with such a father looking out for you?

“Hey, I saw you last night, you know!” He says, still laughing.

You let go of his shoulders and he drops you down to your normal height. He clasps his hands onto your shoulders and takes you in, all the way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

Your hair is in loose braids like your mother, about the same length too, if a bit longer. In honor of such an occasion, your mother had gifted you new wrist and forearm covers she had made herself. Your dad gave you a pendant made from a rare metal he carved himself, to wear around your neck. You wear both items proudly today. What little attire you have on you is that of your people, leather and flora, mostly, with a few wrappings around your limbs and beads and feathers in your hair. You have the eyes and face shape of your mother, with the same smile as your father. The same heart, too, your mother once said. Strong. Protective. Kind.

It was the greatest compliment she could have ever given you.

“Look at you.” The words are said with pride. “My firstborn, my daughter, already onto her first hunt. There is no one I would rather have as one of my children. I know that you will make wise choices and will bring honor to our family and our clan. I am proud of all you have accomplished, daughter, and I know you will accomplish even more.”

For a moment you are struck silent, before your eyes well up. You’re barely able to make out a small, choked, “Thanks, Dad”, before he is pulling you in for another hug. When he releases you, he grasps your face and presses his forehead against yours in the same way your mother had earlier that day.

He looks into your eyes, you look into his, and you see him. Everything that he is, that he once was, that he one day will be. His strength, his ferocity, his love. And he sees you. You know this, deep in your very heart, your very soul. Your father sees you. Your determination, your love, your own ferocity that echoes both his and your mother’s.

You are seen, you try to say, I see you, Dad. But the words remain choked in your throat.

From the soft look on his face, though, you know he knows what you are trying to convey.

He lifts his forehead from yours, hand still on your face and neck, and says to your mother, “We have raised good children, Neytiri.”

Your mother approaches you and strokes a knuckle down your cheek. She looks her mate in the eyes, voice soft and quiet, and says, “Yes, my Jake, we have.”

Your father smiles gently and lets go of you to take your mother’s hand. Then he turns his attention to the rest of his children, and gestures for them all to come together. Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Neteyam all step forward into the circle of your parents and yourself, and you wrap one arm around the shoulders of Lo’ak and the other around Kiri, bringing them in closer.

Dad picks Tuk up quickly into the air, grinning when she lets loose a shrieking giggle. He uses the other hand not supporting her weight on his side to wrap an arm around Neteyam’s shoulder and bring him in close, hugging him to his chest and whispering words into his ear before repeating the process with Lo’ak and Kiri.

You’re glad to see you’re not the only one from the Sully family with watery eyes after your father speaks with them. Once Kiri is released, she steps back and pretends like she’s not wiping at her eyes with the corner of her shawl. Neteyam has to blink a few times to clear away his tears, and poor, sweet Lo’ak was the worst of us when faced with his father’s praise, swallowing a few times and blinking furiously.

You love your family.

It’s a fierce feeling, but not at all sudden or new. It’s a feeling you have every time your mother sits you down to carefully braid your hair, every time Lo’ak brings you in for a hug. You feel it every time Tuk snuggles into your side while you sit around a fire, listening to your father tell stories of his past.

It’s there when Neteyam laughs, or when he comforts you or your siblings. It’s there when an ever-curious Kiri asks a question or tells you a fact you had never known before. You felt it when your father taught you how to throw a punch, and it was there when you were thirteen and he taught you how to curse in his first language, far away from the ears of your mother.

This is your family, and you will do anything you have to do to protect it.

Suddenly, you have found your purpose in this world. This is it; nothing more, nothing less. You will protect those you love with everything you have, or you will die trying.

Your realization reignites your determination, and you shift into a more relaxed position. You know who you are and what you can do. All that’s left is to get out there and do it.

Your father turns back to you, and if he notices the change in your eyes, he doesn’t mention it. He simply takes the large bow from your mother’s hands, the bow your mother and father had helped you make, looks you in the eye, and presses it into your hands.

“Be strong. Be wise. Be safe. And remember, no matter what happens, Sully’s stick together.”

You return his gaze and nod.

He nods and takes a step backward, leaving you with your bow in your hands. You fix it over your back, double-check you have your knife and quiver of arrows, and look back at your family.

They stare back at you. Dad is still holding Tuk, his other arm wrapped around Neteyam’s shoulders. Mom has one arm wrapped around Kiri, her other holding Lo’ak to her.

You take one last moment to look at your loved ones, and then you turn and leave High Camp without a backward glance.

Once you reach the edge of the line that leads into the thicker part of the forest that contains your prey, you turn back around and raise your bow. You call out a warrior’s cry, and in the distance, you can hear and see your family do the same, arms raised above their own heads as they cried out.

You turn back around, and with the cries of your family echoing in your ears and your heart, you begin your hunt.

#avatar: the way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar imagine #reader insert #Sully!reader #atwow #avatar way of water #jake sully #neytiri #oneshot #my writing #cross posted on ao3 #the way of water #avatar x reader #sully family #atwow fanfiction #avatar fanfiction

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callmemana · 2 years

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What You Know, Is Nothing.

A Bob Floyd x female!reader fanfic:

Summary: Bob goes home for leave and as a surprise the dagger squad pays him a visit and learns more about their fellow aviator.

🚨A special thank you to @sebsxphia @jungle-angel @twosroos @thedaredevilsgirl for the ideas! I love and appreciate all of you!🚨 and a thank you to @eddiemypuppetmaster and @sweetlittlegingy for proof reading!

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

After the uranium mission, the dagger squad had gotten closer and had learned more about each other over the next couple of months. As the group learned about their fellow aviator’s personal life, like how Hangman is the eldest of four and has three sisters; how Rooster grew up surrounded by the 86’ squadron after his father, Goose, had died and many more interesting things. The only person who’s yet to be open with the team was Bob. They knew some basic information, like his name and home state, but other than that, nothing. It wasn’t until a mysterious message was sent to Phoenix from an ‘Kacey Floyd’ that she gained more knowledge about her back seater. After weeks of messaging each other, Phoenix and the other aviators were invited to Floyd’s ranch. As it got closer to the day they left for their families, the secret stayed quiet. While at the Hard Deck Bob, as always, stayed his shy, wallflower self. Only speaking when spoken to. Bob was in his own little world when his phone went off, it was his mother, asking when his flight was and who was going to pick him up. Bob sighed loudly, which gathered the attention of the other aviators, “What’s the matter Bob?” Bob bowed his head, closed his eyes in frustration, then looked back up to his questioner, “My Ma, she’s asking me about who’s gonna pick me up at the airport.” “So, who’s picking you up? She’s worried about her son.” Replied Rooster. “I don’t need a ride; I left my truck at the airport last time I visited and its still good on gas.” “You left your truck at the airport, even though you knew you wouldn’t be back for a while?” asked Payback. Bob nodded, “Well, technically my girlfriend has my truck, she’s going to drive up with a friend and leave my truck there for me.” The team was speechless, bob had a girlfriend? “I’m sorry, could you please say that again?” asked Hangman, thinking he’d heard wrong. Bob scrunched his eyebrows together, “My girlfriend is going to drive up with a friend and leave my truck?” “Why did we never know that you had a girlfriend?” “Because nobody asked?” “Well now we’re asking!” “Yeah, tell us about yourself Bob.” “I’m good, there’s nothing to know.” “What’s your parents’ names? Do you have any siblings?” Bob chuckled lightly, “Why the sudden interest?” “Because we work together and while we do, we need to know about each other more.” “That’s bullshit, and you all know it.” “Its bull-true!” Bob gave a slight glare to the others, “Fine, my parents’ names are Joseph and Kacey, I have four siblings, two older and two younger.” “Their names are?” “Seriously, why are y’all so interested in my life right now?” “Well, I should know this information as you are my back-seater.” Replied Phoenix. “My older brother’s name is Austin, my older sister’s name is Isabella, and my younger sister’s name is Chloe, and my younger brother is Colton. Anything else? My blood type, middle name? If I’m an organ donor?” “Yes,” “Did you realize that your accent comes out more when your frustrated?” “My middle name is James, AB positive, and yes I am.” Bob got up out of his chair and left to get another drink, this time a beer. “Jesus guys and Phoenix, we drove him to drink!” said Hangman. “He’s probably stressed with going home, I mean, it’s been a while since he’s been home from what I can tell,” said Fanboy. “So, he shouldn’t get frustrated with his mom, she’s just worried about her son.” “It’s nice that she’s there for him, at least he has someone,” said Rooster. “Don’t start on the sob story Roost.” Bob kept away from the others until the day he had to catch his plane to good Ol’ Wyoming. Bob went home for leave, where he could visit his home and see his family again, and that’s where he was now, helping his father, and two brothers fixing the fence that broke but didn’t have the time nor people to fix. He had on a trucker hat with this family’s ranch on it and blue jeans, his shirt discarded as soon as the summer sun of Wyoming reached about noon on this particular day. He heard a couple of cars driving down the dirt road but paid no attention to it, focused mainly on the fence.

The cars’ doors opened and closed as Bob continued to work. Without his shirt, Bob could be seen with muscles that could go head to head with Rooster’s or even Hangman’s on any given day and tattoos. The squad didn’t think that Bob would be as fit as he was, considering how most of his free time on base was used to sit in a cozy chair and reading a book, nor did they think that Bob would be the type of person to have tattoos. As the team stood by the cars and stared, it seems that they were caught red handed looking at their fellow aviator. “Hey Bam, ain’t those your fancy pilot buddies?” “Now you’re just messin’ with me, Austin. How many times do I have to say that we aren’t that close, they don’t know where I am, I didn’t give them anything about my personal life. There ain’t no way, they are here,” retorted Bob. “Bam, look over there, don’t those guys look like the people from that picture you sent?” asked Colt. Rolling his eyes, Bob lifted his hat and wiped his forehead before putting it back on and looking in the driveway, and to his surprise, his fellow aviators were in fact at his family’s ranch.

“What in the hell?” he whispered under his breath. Bob looked at his brothers, both just as confused as he was on why they were here. Soon his mom came out of the old farm house and greeted the guest followed by his sisters. “Bam, Austin, Colt! Get your asses over here and say hi, I didn’t raise no hoodlums!” “Yeah Ma, were comin’!” “Bam, grab the tools, we’ll move on to the next fence afterwards.” doing as his brother asked, he grabbed the tools and his shirt as he made his way over to the group forming. “Bam never said that we were havin’ guest.” said his sister, Isabella. “Because he didn’t know, it was supposed to be a surprise for him.” “Well, come on! Introduce us Bam,” Bob had always hated that nickname since he was a child, so rolling his eyes, “Ma, Isabella, Chloe, Austin, Colt, this is my team members from the dagger squad, Natasha, Reuben, Mickey, Jake, Javy, Bradley, this is my mother, Kacey, older sister Isabella, younger sister Chloe, older brother Austin, and younger brother Colt. There happy? We still got fence to fix, but make yourselves at home inside.” finished, Bob as he and his brothers hopped on the quads nearby and made their way to the other fences.

“I’m sorry about Bam, he doesn’t like surprises much. But y’all are welcome to go inside to cool off while I finish up with lunch.” “I’m sorry Mrs. Floyd, but why do you call Bob ‘Bam’?” asked Natasha with curiosity. “Oh, please call me Kacey, Mrs. Floyd was my mother-in-law. When Robert was a baby he had blond hair so white that it looked like Bam Bam from the Flintstones and he would take a toy hammer and smack everything with it. The nickname just stuck from that, he absolutely hates it, but he will always be our Bam Bam.” laughs could be heard from behind her as she lead the group into the house and to the guest rooms. Isabella and Chloe helped with lunch while they settled in. There were pictures all around of the five siblings and their childhood, it looked like a scrap book with all of the photos, all of different ages and activities.

One particular photo caught Reuben’s eyes and he smacked Mickey who gasped, the photo was of Bob on a bull, riding with one of his hands on his hat and the other holding tight a rope to stay on as the bull bucked. “Guys, you’ll never believe this, but it looks like Bob was a bull rider before the army,” said Mickey, which grabbed the others’ attention and went to look at the picture. Isabella came in at the sight of them entranced by it and chuckled, “Y’all really don't know squat about Bam do you? Bradley shook his head, “No, we know his name, that he’s a WSO, and that he doesn’t drink, but that’s all.” Isabella laughed loudly at the last statement, “Oh, y’all are up for a treat! Bam used to go out every weekend and drink with his buddies in the cornfields out by the Cordell’s farm and get shitfaced, come home early the next day and then go to work on the farm,” the team had their eyes wide and jaws to the floor, no way was ‘Baby on Board’ a partier, not in high school and defiantly not now.

“When he came home one day, and Ma had had enough of the drinkin’, she told him no more until he turned twenty-one and then he decided to join up. So, I’m guessing he don’t drink around y’all?” Bradley was the one to speak, “No, he doesn’t” “Was he really like that growing up?” “Oh was that boy trouble, he would-” “Ma! We’re done, and don’t be tellin’ them nothin’!” “Oh, hush boy!” Bob and his brothers came into the room and sat on the couch and recliner, that was until their mom came over and smacked them upside the head, “Don’t be gettin’ sweat on my chairs now, go shower the lot of ya!” they all grumbled as they got up and retreated into their rooms, “No smoking either!” she shouted once more, “that’s for outside only!” “Kacey, it was nice of you to let us stay here, but if Bob isn’t ok with this we can leave,” suggested Mickey, always the kindhearted one. “No, no, it’s fine. He’s just not too big on surprises and such. He’ll get over it, and if anyone of you catch him smoking, please snuff it out, he can’t be ruining those lungs with the stuff y’all do for the Navy!” They all nodded and agreed, another thing they never knew about Bob, he used to drink like a frat boy and smokes, who knew.

After his shower, he picked up his room a little bit before heading back downstairs to his teammates, who were enthralled by a story his sister was telling, he rested on the doorframe as he waited for the end. “He would jump from the hayloft to a patch of hay to get away from Dad when he would get in trouble, that boy always came inside smelling like shit and had hay everywhere.” he chuckled at the story, a fond one from his childhood. Nat was the first to spot him, “Hey,” Bob just nodded his greeting. “You’re not too mad at us right?” Bob just shook his head, “No, y’all just wanted to get to know me better, I know I was less than giving with information about myself.” “So, tell us man. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want to get to know you.” Bob pushed himself off the position he was in and sat on a chair at the table, “What do you wanna know?” “Where did your accent go when we were at Top Gun?” asked Reuben. “I got made fun of because I ‘sounded less smart’ when I talked so no one took me seriously as a WSO. I had enough of it and started to lose it gradually as I went from base to base.” Bob shrugged. “You drank a lot in high school?” Bob’s eyebrows furrowed as he glared at Isabella, who giggled, “Yeah, there’s not a lot to do here. It’s either hanging out in the Walmart parking lot, or going to a friends’ field, having a bonfire, and drinking til the beer runs out. I chose the latter.” Bob folds his arms over his chest and leans back as he waits for the questions from his team. “Or rodeos, he was a big hit at the local and county rodeos, always went to state and won.” bragged Austin as he joined the group. “Bam here was the champion for years before he went and joined the Navy, still talked about round that time of year.” “Apparently there’s one coming up next weekend, thinking of signing up there Robert?” Bob rolled his eyes, “I’m retired, and you know that, Izzy.” “So, you got to show your Navy friends the rodeo, its super fun and you loved the adrenalin rushes when you ride!” joined in Chloe as Bob shook his head, “Not happenin’, I’ll take them to a hole in the wall or a cornfield party. Heard Patterson say he was planning one soon,” “No, come on Robert!” Bob’s phone went off and checked the name, Y/N, he got up and grabbed his hat, “I’m out, see y’all soon. I’ll be home for dinner!” confused, the others looked at the family in the kitchen who smiled, “That was his girlfriend, Y/N, she must need something. Don’t worry he’ll be back.” “What’s she like?” asked Javy with a smirk, “Prettier than sin, and as smart as a whip.” “Any pictures?” “Plenty, they’ve been together since freshman year.” “That’s adorable!” “Plans to propose next June when he gets leave again,” said Chloe. “Who knew Bob was a romantic?” “Well, we did, but he’s our brother so,” said Colt.

As dinner came closer and closer there was still no sign of Bob. It wasn’t until the plates and table where cleared that Bob reappeared, but with his hair frazzled, left eye black, and knuckles opened and bloody. His siblings rolled their eyes at him, this was just another night for them. The dagger squad jumped up immediately and surrounded their friend. “What the hell Bob?” “Are you ok?” “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Bob held up his hands to silent them, “I’m fine, just got into a bar fight.” “A bar fight?” “What the actual fuck?” “Are you sure your alright?” Bob nodded his head sternly, “Yeah, some asshole was talkin shit about me and Y/N called to come pick her up before she did something she’d regret. By the time I got there, it was already going down, a friend of mine from high school jumped in to protect Y/N.” “Is she here?” “Can we meet her?” Bob shrugged, “Sure, I guess. She’s outside still trying to clean up.” “Clean up?” “You don’t think that a girl from the Midwest don’t know how to throw down do you? Girl’s here throw hands like it’s a conversation starter.” “Respect.” “Should be in soon,” as soon as Bob finished his sentence a woman in bootcut jeans, a t shirt, steel toed boots, and a dirty white Stetson came through the door and looked around at the dagger squad, “Well Hell, when you said you got yourself guests Bam, I didn’t realize they’d be this good lookin’!” “Y/N, this is the dagger squad, Nat, Bradley, Jake, Javy, Mickey, and Reuben. Guys this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” “Its nice to finally meet y’all, Bam doesn’t talk much about his Navy friends when he visits. Hell, half of the time we gotta hound him to take leave.” Said Kacey, smacking her son’s shoulders affectionately. They talked for hours catching Y/N up about all of the things the squadron did these last couple of months and his family told embarrassing childhood stories of Bob, who would add details or laugh with the others. Bob would never come out to say it, but this was probably the best leave he’s taken. His Navy family finally met his real family. He was a happy man.

#robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #callmemanaficrecs #supportyourfriends #🎟️ticketforthelovetrainchoochoo

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thetruescholar · 2 months

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Hehehe!

Okay here we go!!!!

3, 26, 28, 44, 50, 54, 55, 59, 63,68, 79, 88, 96, 97, 53, 52.

101, Do they have a son/daughter/adopted child?

Hehehe who am l?

being useful and gathering knowledge. It’s what she was made to do by Dottore after all. It’s partially why she’s so stubborn about leaving, she’ll lose her one main goal in life she was designed and trained to do if she does leave.

Since she’s a dottore segment she is whatever Dottore is. I’ve seen people say Dottore is Persian so she would be Persian.

Absolutely not. The segment lab is the most toxic work environment.

She’s very good at medicine when not compared to the other segments. She’s also highly intelligent. She’s not the nicest though.

January 5th

Capricorn.

For test subjects, she views it from a very detached way. It’s a shame when test subjects die but she just collects her notes so she can improve on the next experiment. When Fatui members die, she sees it as a sad but expected part of the job. She doesn’t want to die herself though.

Maybe?? If she did have an accent it would probably be a Russian one since she’s never left sheznayah for a long time.

Nope, she’s done so much medical malpractice that she doesn’t care.

Exploit them if she thinks the person would be good for her experiment or she wants them out of her way. Otherwise she doesn’t really care.

She’s 6’ tall. Her emotional instability. As etoiles has shown you can bring her to tears pretty easily when she’s not actively trying to prevent you from doing that. I guess her being a lapdog to Dottore is also a weakness, she’ll do whatever he says. You can exploit that.

Her scientific prowess. If she was in the akademiya she would solo every other student in contributions and research. Move outta the way Lisa, we have a new brightest student!

She’s a dottore segment so her family is Dottore and the other segments.

The segments are a close knit bond so I’d say yes.

it depends on the rp. On the rp here with the blogs, we have Sheznevna. Natalia doesn’t consider Sheznevna her kid though. Otherwise Natalia has no children nor does she want any.

#Out of rp

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craftylovegentlemen · 5 months

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The Bible Old Testament

Ruth

Chapter 2

1 And Naomi had a kinsman of her husband's, a mighty man of wealth, of the family of Elimelech; and his name was Boaz. 2 And Ruth the Moabitess said unto Naomi, Let me now go to the field, and glean ears of corn after him in whose sight I shall find grace. And she said unto her, Go, my daughter. 3 And she went, and came, and gleaned in the field after the reapers: and her hap was to light on a part of the field belonging unto Boaz, who was of the kindred of Elimelech. 4 And, behold, Boaz came from Bethlehem, and said unto the reapers, The LORD be with you. And they answered him, The LORD bless thee. 5 Then said Boaz unto his servant that was set over the reapers, Whose damsel is this? 6 And the servant that was set over the reapers answered and said, It is the Moabitish damsel that came back with Naomi out of the country of Moab: 7 And she said, I pray you, let me glean and gather after the reapers among the sheaves: so she came, and hath continued even from the morning until now, that she tarried a little in the house. 8 Then said Boaz unto Ruth, Hearest thou not, my daughter? Go not to glean in another field, neither go from hence, but abide here fast by my maidens: 9 Let thine eyes be on the field that they do reap, and go thou after them: have I not charged the young men that they shall not touch thee? and when thou art athirst, go unto the vessels, and drink of that which the young men have drawn. 10 Then she fell on her face, and bowed herself to the ground, and said unto him, Why have I found grace in thine eyes, that thou shouldest take knowledge of me, seeing I am a stranger?

11 And Boaz answered and said unto her, It hath fully been shewed me, all that thou hast done unto thy mother in law since the death of thine husband: and how thou hast left thy father and thy mother, and the land of thy nativity, and art come unto a people which thou knewest not heretofore. 12 The LORD recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the LORD God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust. 13 Then she said, Let me find favour in thy sight, my lord; for that thou hast comforted me, and for that thou hast spoken friendly unto thine handmaid, though I be not like unto one of thine handmaidens. 14 And Boaz said unto her, At mealtime come thou hither, and eat of the bread, and dip thy morsel in the vinegar. And she sat beside the reapers: and he reached her parched corn, and she did eat, and was sufficed, and left. 15 And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men, saying, Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not: 16 And let fall also some of the handfuls of purpose for her, and leave them, that she may glean them, and rebuke her not. 17 So she gleaned in the field until even, and beat out that she had gleaned: and it was about an ephah of barley. 18 And she took it up, and went into the city: and her mother in law saw what she had gleaned: and she brought forth, and gave to her that she had reserved after she was sufficed. 19 And her mother in law said unto her, Where hast thou gleaned to day? and where wroughtest thou? blessed be he that did take knowledge of thee. And she shewed her mother in law with whom she had wrought, and said, The man's name with whom I wrought to day is Boaz. 20 And Naomi said unto her daughter in law, Blessed be he of the LORD, who hath not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead. And Naomi said unto her, The man is near of kin unto us, one of our next kinsmen. 21 And Ruth the Moabitess said, He said unto me also, Thou shalt keep fast by my young men, until they have ended all my harvest. 22 And Naomi said unto Ruth her daughter in law, It is good, my daughter, that thou go out with his maidens, that they meet thee not in any other field. 23 So she kept fast by the maidens of Boaz to glean unto the end of barley harvest and of wheat harvest; and dwelt with her mother in law.

Ruth 2

Diane Beauford

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

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Idk why my dad is so surprised about how I petty I am or how crazy I am when we all know about all the stuff he does.

I was like a kid when this happened. My grandma had Parkinson's, and her househelp told her that if she gave her $$$$ amount of money, she'll go to some guy who'll cure her with the power of praying or whatever. And you know how gullible grandparents are, so she got scammed.

So obviously, my mom is frustrated because that woman literally vanished into thin air with her husband with the money and they don't know where they went, and mom was worried that maybe they'd come back again and steal from my grandma again and could also harm her. And that's where my dad comes in, ever calm and chill, almost bubbling with glee because he's about to go on an "adventure". He told my mom and grandma to "chill. I'll take care of this."

And then like got one of his juniors from work to accompany him the next day. My dad was going to this village he once heard the house helps husband say, and with literally no knowledge of where this place was or how many people they were dealing with (or how dangerous they were) , he just drove up to the village. There he vaguely describe the husband and his name, and the villager was like "Oh yeah, he lives right down that house😃 Wait-🤨 is he in trouble? What'd he do? Who are you?😟🤨" and my dad said "his friends. Just here to meet him🥰🥰🥰"

And then dad knocked on the door, they let him in, the husband wasn't home, but the wife, who scammed my grandma was there and then my dad just went off on her and her parents about how she stole from a sweet old lady. And when my dad asked them to give that money back, she said "oh we're dirt poor! We spent that money to save our lives from loan sharks. We promise to pay you back!" And my dad looked around and he could spot something new in the corner and an idea popped off in his head.

"So, you're dirt poor- don't have money for your next meal, but you got a brand new TV?" And it was clear that dad had caught her bullshit and then he said "fine. I'll leave now, since you promised to pay us back." And as he was leaving, he called his friend "Jack? Pick that TV up."

And everyone, including Jack (who was picking the TV up) was confused. And when they tried to stop him, dad was like "you'll get your TV, when you pay us back. Bye 👋" and as Dad and Jack left the house with the TV- and its not a flat screen, no no, it's the BOX TV unit from back in the day, there's like other villagers gathering around to watch this happen. So, this is more humiliating for the scammers because now the whole village heard that they stole from someone and now some guy got into their house and took their biggest luxury- a television.

When dad got home, me, mom, grandma- everyone's so confused because why is Jack bringing in a new TV, and why is dad beaming like that.

Anyways, dad later gets a call from the husband , threatening him for insulting his family in front of the whole village, and like dad is just making me some noodles and nuggets while this guy goes off about how he's gonna break my dad's legs and then kill us all and make him watch it, and dad's pretty nonchalant, like "Alright. Can't wait. See ya!😄"

And then I'm eating noodles, and dad's like "brb sweetie. Don't tell your mom I'm going out!" And he comes back a couple of hours later with that mischievous grin again.

Yeah he went to cops, had them trace the call, and then the scammers got arrested. I'm not sure what happened after that, but grandma got her money, even though she kept on telling my dad to not bother with the scammers and to let them go.

I'm like telling you, my dad has brought thief's who stole from him, in his car and drove them to the police station and told them to either confess on their own or that the cops are gonna make him confess, and the latter way is always more painful.

He can easily befriend anyone, even the most dangerous guy. I remember like these 4 guys trying to take over a house illegaly that belonged to someone in our family, and these guys- well, they weren't the mafia, but they were associated with this religious cult that was notorious for being very quick to come to violence. Bro, not only did we get the house back, they invited dad to the cult (he politely declined) and then they invited him out to dinner😭😭

This the same guy who's afraid of needles (and alcohol swab).

I feel like that it's his corporate job that makes him so bored (or ready to lose his mind), so he views this stuff like "oooohhh adventure 🤩🤩"

Do yall have any crazy stories like this? Feel free to share!

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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Of Jealousy and Friendship - Epilogue

*** Back due to popular demand, here is a little epilogue for what happened at school the next day after pt. 2 Enjoy! - B***

Summary: MC makes a lower demon friend who may secretly be hoping for something more than friendship. The Demon Bros are not about to let this happen.

TW: Discussions about scenting and non-consensual physical contact. PART ONE, PART TWO

The next day of school was...interesting to say the least. For starters, the brothers refused to leave your side. There was one of them lingering near you at all times. Some of them had the decency to try and be subtle. Satan would just happen to be studying in the same room as you, or Belphie was napping and was wondering if you could keep an eye on his things while he did. But then there were the others who were more than obvious. Mammon and Asmodeus both had to pried off of your arms by Lucifer to get them to actually go to their own classes. Leviathan, despite usually doing his classes at home in his room, actually attended school that day and insisted that he needed your help finding a few rooms here and there. The normally sweet and friendly Beel was glaring at any lower demon that so much as looked in your direction. And boy did they look. The moment you took a step into a classroom, you could see a number of lower demons flinch back at the combined strong sent of seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow you. There were undoubtedly rumours about what you might have done in order to trick the brothers into favouring you; though you never heard any of them since no one dared to come within a ten-foot radius of you.

This bothered you a little at first. Being the center of attention, especially this kind of attention, was never fun to anybody. But by the end of the day, rather than being disheartened by it, you were just exhausted. Finally, the last class of the day had arrived; the one you had been dreading since the moment your alarm went off that morning - Magical Potions.

Beel shifted from foot to foot as the two of you lingered in the entrance. "Do you really have to go to this class? You could just skip and come get some snacks with me instead." You smiled sympathetically at Beel and patted his shoulder. "Sorry, Beel. Diavolo expects good things from his exchange students. I need to keep my grades high, or who knows what Lucifer will do as punishment." The redhead pouted. "Lucifer would understand, I think. All things considered." You snorted and began to walk into the classroom. "Go to your own class, Beel. You can come to get me afterwards, and walk me home with Mammon if you really want."

Beelzebub mumbled to himself, before turning and finally walking off. You entered the class, ignoring the few gasps and gaping stares that you got as you walked through the room, and took your seat. You had been setting up for another class of note-taking when the door opened once more. Standing in the doorway, staring at you with wide eyes, was Cane. The moment your eyes met, the shocked expression on his face instantly dissipated and he flashed you a charming smile. You could feel a bubble of annoyance and anger begin to rise within you. The cocky demon swaggered over and plopped down into his seat beside you. "Hey, there Dare Devil. You didn't get in too much trouble last night with the big bad Avatars did you?" as he spoke he draped an arm on the back of your chair.

You eyed his exposed wrist and pushed his arm off of your chair. It seemed not even the obvious scenting that was supposed to tell him to back off would get him to take a hint. "No, I didn't. Though they did tell me a few interesting things last night." Cane chuckled and leaned into his palm as he smirked at you. "I'm assuming it has something to do with the reason why you smell like hell-incarnate?"

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm sure you'd rather I smell like you. Considering you apparently did your best to make that happen yesterday." Cane tensed for a moment, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. Eventually, his expression fell into one of confusion as he frowned at you. "Are you talking about how I scented you? MC, do you really think I would do something like that without a good reason?" The frustration in you began to grow and grow inside you; somewhere across the school grounds, Satan sneezed. You weren't in the mood to have this talk now, and very much wished that your professor would hurry up and start the god damn class already. "I don't know you Cane. How am I supposed to know whether or not that's something you would do?" That stupid smug look on his face returned once more and you had to resist the urge to slap it off of him. "You seemed to know me well enough to go out with me yesterday. You didn't seem worried about whether or not I was too much of a stranger when we were dancing at the club and walking downtown late at night, where anything could've happened to a small little human like you," he chuckled as your face scrunched up in annoyance and leaned back into his chair. "I didn't scent you for any perverted reasons. I did it to keep you safe while we were out. I knew if you had my scent on you, you'd be less likely to get attacked, and I was right," he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Admittedly, I should've asked first, and that's on me. But I really just wanted to make sure that my new friend didn't get hurt." He was lying. He had to be. If that asshole seriously thought you were stupid enough to buy that lame excuse, he was extremely wrong. You opened your mouth to tell him as much but were interrupted by a familiar deep voice clearing their throat behind you. "That is the worse excuse I've ever heard, and I live with Mammon." Cane stiffened in front of you before he looked up to meet the glaring eyes of Lucifer, and smiled. "Lord Lucifer, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I would never lie, especially not to a friend like MC." The classroom seemed to be on the edge of their seats as everyone quickly picked up on the showdown that was happening right in front of them. One lower demon of gluttony even pulled out a bag of popcorn. Lucifer tsked and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do not insult mine and MC's intelligence like that. Sure scenting can be helpful to ward off other demons, but only if the scent is associated with a more powerful demon. Nobody would blink an eye at anything coated in your weak, disgusting scent." Cane scoffed and tilted his head. "Evidently you did last night. Don't think I didn't notice you and your brother's reactions." This gained a few gasps from your classmates. No one could believe that someone, that wasn't his brothers, was actually trying to stand up against Lucifer. The idea itself was insane. Even seeing it in front of their own eyes, most could hardly believe it, yourself included. Lucifer maintained his indifferent expression and raised an eyebrow at Cane. "You mistook our irritation and disbelief that someone would be so stupid as to even attempt scenting our charge for being even the slightest bit phased by you," he took a step closer to Cane, bending down to be eye level with him. "You should consider yourself lucky it was Asmodeus and myself that got to the two of you first. Should it have been one of my more reckless brothers, you would've been nothing but a pile of ribbons in our driveway," Lucifer's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as Cane gulped and took a step back. The Morningstar grinned dangerously. "MC is our charge. They are our family and our responsibility. Unlike you, we actually got their permission to be scented and bonded to them last night; meaning my brothers are more protective than ever. I would never stoop so low as to waste my energy on a pitiful excuse for a demon-like yourself. But I know for a fact, that Beelzebub eats demons like you as a snack on

days when he is particularly famished. Satan occasionally brings one home for his latest experiments. Belphegor has torn through an entire percentage of them when he hasn't gotten enough sleep. Asmodeus is surprisingly prone to temper tantrums and fits of jealousy. Leviathan drowns anyone that disrespects the things that he loves. And Mammon doesn't take too kindly to people touching things that he considers his." Cane's hands balled into fists, but even then, the tremble in them was still glaringly obvious. Lucifer remained unphased and unmoved by the reactions he was pulling from his victim; though anyone could sense the air of utter glee that was exuding off of him. "If I were you, Cane, I would sleep with one eye open." The teacher finally walked in and raised an eyebrow at the scene in front of them. "Lord Lucifer, is there a reason you are harassing my student?" Cane whimpered as Lucifer smirked at him before standing straight and turning to the teacher. "Not at all, professor. I am actually here to inform you that MC will no longer be enrolled in this class." You whipped your head up to look at him as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "The student council has realized it would be a much better decision to have the exchange students more knowledgable to the ways and customs of demons during their visit here, so MC will be enrolled in Devildom Culture Studies instead. We wouldn't want someone to take advantage of them just because they were taught our ways, now would we?" The last line was spoken coldly and pointedly as though to drive in his threats to Cane. The teacher sighed but seemed to know that there was no point arguing and instructed you to gather your things. You did so happily and quickly. As you left the classroom and walked through your halls with Lucifer, you bumped him gently with your hip. "Thanks, Lucifer. You really are the best." His chest puffed up the slightest bit in pride as he continued walking forward with his hand still on your shoulder. "There is nothing to thank me for MC. I was just doing my duty as Vice-President of the student council to ensure that the exchange students are happy and safe." But even as he said the words, you knew that wasn't the case. You were MC. The human that wormed their way into the hearts of the seven strongest demons in the Devildom. For that reason alone, you were untouchable to all others, and Lucifer and his brothers would ensure that for as long as they breathed. And whoever disagreed would have to be ready to face the consequences.

TAGLIST: @henry-and-the-seven-lords

@hopefulann

@vampwiire

@bunna-does-stuff

@obey-mes-treasure

@obeythebutler

1K notes · View notes

fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years

Text

The Bards Sister Geralt XFemale!Reader Part 1

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadnt seen since she was 5. The journal is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. I know i am trash at summaries.

Trigger warnings: NONE a lot of Geralt and Jaskier in this first part. Your charicter doesn’t come in till closer to the end.

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,095 longest fanfic I’ve ever written!!

A/N: hello my loves!!! I got my Insperation back!! I’m hopping i will be regularly posting agin!!! I ove you all so much you consistent love and supoort has not gone unnoticed. The constant likes and reblogs truly means the world to me. I love every single one of you so much. Thank you for believing in my writing the way you do. All my love -Lilith ps. I have reviewed and edited but I will be doing a more in-depth review soon!

“Where are we going, Jaskier.” The Witcher’s brooding voice echoed threw the flowered valley. His horse trotted not far behind his companion. Jaskier looked back at him and just rolled his eyes.

“How many times have you led me on endless roads, towards the middle of nowhere speaking little to no words to me no matter how much I ask?” Geralt said nothing. Jaskier snorted looking back towards the road.

“Exactly. No shut up, your brooding is giving me a headache.” The bard was giving the witcher a taste of his own medicine. The idea that Jaskier was leading him to somewhere he had no idea of the location, made him uneasy. Did he trust his bard? Absolutely without a doubt. Would he ever admit it to him? No never.

Their travels continued till the sun was barely hanging in the sky. The air had grown crisp replacing the harsh burning of the full summer sun. Jaskier pulled his mare to the side of the road, climbing off her, tying her to a tree. Geralt followed, realizing they were stopping for the day.

“We still have a couple hours of daylight left.” Geralt said as he took Roach’s saddle and tack off.

“We don't need a couple hours, we are nearly there. Maybe an hour and half.” Geralt cocked an eyebrow at Jaskier.

“Then why did we stop?” Jaskier pulled his saddle bags off his horse, putting them beside a log as he gathered some sticks for the fire.

“Because I have to debrief you as to who we are going to see and you must bathe before we do so. The stream here will do the trick.”

“Gods Jaskier, will you just tell me where we are going? The secrecy is bullshit.” The broot of a man was losing his patience with his friend.

The duo had been on the trip for nearly two weeks. They left Tramieria and headed east. Much further east than Geralt could ever remember traveling. Yet the bard seemed to know exactly what turns to take and when. The closer they drew to their destination the more the witcher could hear his heart beat faster.

“Jaskier if this is some stupid plot for me to protect you from some man who’s wife you slept with again-“

“It's not Geralt-“ Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose, his stress causing a minor headache. “Just go bathe then I’ll tell you everything.” Geralt studied his friend, his eyes searching his face, his ears tuning into his heart beat trying his best to figure out what he was getting himself into.

With a low grunt the witcher grabbed his last set of clean clothes and the bar of soap from the bard's hand before stomping off to the river.

“Clean EVERYTHING!” Jaskier yelled over his shoulder. Only getting an unfriendly finger in return.

Nearly an hour later, the sun was completely hidden behind the canyon, the glow of the fire Jaskier started illuminating their small camp. Jaskier’s fingers strummed mindlessly at his lute, his eyes fixed on the stars that were making their presence known more, humming to himself softly. He heard his friends footsteps as he approached, his hair was wet at his shoulders. A fresh white Cotton tunic hugged his muscular build, black trousers hugging his legs. He smiled nice for once. All thanks to the lavender and honey soap Jaskier had received as a gift.

“Now don't you look better.” Jaskier said with a chuckle. The witcher sat down across the fire from him, his golden eyes staring heavily at the bard.

“Spill your guts Jaskier.” Jaskier rubbed his hands over his face and nodded. His eyes looking anywhere but at his friend.

“I haven't been completely forward about my family life.” Jaskier’s eyes landed on the moon above them. It was nearly full, he was doing well with time. He knew they would reach their destination well before the next full moon.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s harsh voice broke the silence. With a loud sigh Jaskier finally looked his friend in the face.

“I’m royalty Geralt.” The Witcher’s expression did not change. He just looked at his friend. He could hear Jaskier's heart beat become uneven and unsteady. At first he thought it was a joke but the nervous energy radiating from his long time friend made him think better.

“My family, they are wonderful people. My mother, bless her, taught me everything I needed to know about writing and music. Convinced my father to let me train at Oxenfurt Academy. My father is a noble and loyal king. He served our people well. Still does to my knowledge. I haven't been back in nearly 20 years…” the bard trailed off, his eyes fixated on his hands, his fingers twildilling with a ring he had on. The ring was that of his family. Their crest engraved into the gold.

“I was never meant to be a noble. I lived for adventure, for more than just sitting on a throne and watching people come and go. I was never fit to be king. My parents knew that. They understood. Understanding people they are.” His voice trailed off again, hopping his friend would say something. Ask a question. Anything. He didn’t know where to go next.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?” Geralt finally asked.

“Because it never came up. My family never needed me. I never needed them. I love them all dearly of course. But we were never the closest people in the world. Well, my sister and I were.” That caught the Witcher’s attention. His eyes narrow slightly, he made sure to not let his expression scare the bard into not telling him more. He was genuinely curious about his family. But he couldn't lie and say he wasn't disappointed that in the 7 years they traveled together he never heard of them.

“You have a sister?” The bard's eyes lit up. His memory raced with images of his tun little sister chasing him around the courtyard screaming, yelling his name. Her giggles and laughs pulling at his heart strings.

“Yes. Her name is (Y/N). She is about to be 25. Big age for a princess. I havnt seen her since she was very little.” His heart started to break softly. His neglect to his baby sitter weighting heavily on him.

“I write her often, as much as I can. She was...well, a surprise to my parents to say the least. I was 15 when she was born. I left home at 20. I was only around for her toddler years. I never got to see her grow, blossom into a young woman. I missed so much.” Jaskier had to fight back the tears, his throat becoming tight and dry. His body filling with regret.

“I just kept pushing it back Geralt. I alwasy said I’d make it home. I alwasy had it in the back of my mind to go back and see her. But I never did.”

“Why now?” Geralt asked.

“She wrote me a few months back. It was nearly a book. It was filled with tales of her new travels around our country. She had been training heavily with an unmanned matester of combat. She traveled the countryside with the man. She referred to him as an uncle. In the letter she asked me if it was true that I’d been traveling with you. She said the songs and tales of Jaskier the Bard traveling with the White Wolf made it to her ears.” Jaskier stopped talking for a brief moment, rummaged around his rut sack and pulled out a notebook. He untied its string and a large pile of papers fell out into his hand. He unfolded the parchment and scanned the writing.

“I wrote her back that week. Only to receive this in return.” He began to read;

“Oh dear Jaskier!! I cannot believe its true. I thought he was only a legend. The white wolf. Please tell him he is a hero here. We love his stories. Many have written books of him. Children run round calling themselves the butcher of Blaviken here to save the damsel and distress. I love his stories, mainly because they involve you. Please come visit me this year. I miss you terribly. I want to hear of your travels with the wolf. Mother said he is more than welcome to stay if he wishes to travel with you. I do miss you Jaskier. More than I think you know. I do not mean to guilt you or make you feel bad as i know you are traveling the world to your heart's content and would never want you to feel as though I do not support you-“ Jaskier stopped reading for a brief moment. A small tear dripped onto the page he was reading. Geralt listened to every word he read. He couldn't help the small tug of his lips when he read about the children pretending to be him. It was a breath of fresh air for the witcher. He had constantly been told he was a monster. To hid your children from him. Yet here was an entire country that loved him, yet he had no idea. Jaskier cleared his throat and continued. “But i miss my brother. And maybe, just maybe. I could come with you. If you deem me fit. I have been working tirelessly with a friend of fathers. He trains me in not only swordsmanship, but Herbology, and monsters as well. I can name nearly every monster that has inhabited the Continent and how to slay it. He thinks I’m ready to leave the nest and I think mother and father are getting a bit tired of me as well. I cannot stand another somber, dull, dinner party with nobles who look at me like a piece of meat. So please. Visit me soon. Come and stay a few days. Catch up with your dear sister and maybe, if he isn't too busy and if it doesn’t inconvenience him, bring the Wolf with you. He’d be a welcomed hero. All my love dear brother. Xoxo Love always, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz

Jaskier folded the letter, placing it inside his notebook before safely storing it inside his sack again. He ran a hand over his face, his eyes slowly moving from his hands to his best friend. They sat in the silence for a while. Geralt’s brain replaying the words he had heard from his friend.

“You could have told me about her Jaskier. Why didn't you? You’ve been in contact with her all this time, planning to see her and your family again. Bringing me along for the ride, yet not a single word in 7 years. Do you not trust me with such a secret Jaskier?” Jaskier was taken aback by his friend's words.

He never knew his secrecy would have such an impact on his friend. When it came to Geralt he learned long ago, the little words, the better. The witcher can only handle so much before he loses interest and stops listening or walks away. He never in a million years would have thought he cared about his life that much. It warmed the bards heart to know his dear friend, the only brother he ever had, cared that deeply for him.

“It has nothing to do with not trusting you Geralt. Is has everything to do with the shame I hold for not seeing her sooner. For treating her like a dirty secret form the world. There is no logical reason for me to keep my family such a big secret. Yet I have. For 20 years.” Geralt’s hands rubbed together softly as he listened to his friend. He understood the secrecy. He was a box full of secrets that nobody could get into.

“Its okay Jaskier. I understand the secrecy. Is that where we are going tomorrow?” Jaskier nodded, a smile appearing on his face.

“Her birthday is the next full moon. I’m hoping my gift will be a good start in time lost.” Geralt looked at him curiously. He hadn't noticed any major item in Jaskier’s possession that could make a good gift for a young princess.

“You’re her gift Geralt. I wrote her back after that letter and told her I’d be back for her next birthday. But that you simply were to busy with your work. I told her that you greatly appreciated her support and that youd consider writing to her in the future. She has no idea your coming with me.” Geralt didnt know how he felt about being a gift. He never ever saw himself as a gift to anyone. More of a burden the a gift. He shook his head at Jaskier and tutted at him.

“Jaskier if your that broke you could’ve asked me for a few extra coins for a real gift.” The witcher attempted to joke with the bard. It made Jaskier smile more. Geralt could be funny, but his humor was incredibly dry, much like Jaskier’s father.

“Geralt! Did you just try and joke around with me??” Geralt rolled his eyes, laying down stretching his muscles as he looked up at the starts.

“Best get some sleep Jaskier, you’ve got a rather big family reunion tomorrow.”

The next morning Jaskier was up and awake before Geralt, a rare sight. He truly hadn't slept more than a couple hours that night. His nerves kept him awake. He feared his sister wouldn’t be as loving as he pictured, she had every right to be mad at him, hate him even. By the time Geralt was up, Jaskier had bathed, changed and had his horse completely ready to go.

Geralt had to do everything in his power to not laugh at his friend. He looked rather ridiculous. His normal bright attire was replaced with a royals outfit. A green and blue velvet tunic and some extremely uncomfortable looking black trousers. His hair was combed back and his face was freshly washed. He even cleaned under his fingernails. He looked rather ridiculous in Geralt’s opinion. He couldn't help the low chuckle that left his lips as he put his bed roll away.

“I don't understand why you're laughing. I have some clothes for you to put on as well.” Geralt’s expression changed instantly, from humorous to angry.

“No. Absolutely not. What I’m wearing is perfectly fine. I’d wear it to meet any king or queen.” A bag was chucked at him, he barely caught it before it smacked into his face.

“This isn't any normal king and queen Geralt. This is my family. And besides, you are no ordinary witcher in my kingdom, you’ll be treated as royalty there. You may as well look the part.” Geralt huffed and threw the bag of clothes back at his friends feet, glaring daggers at him. He hated dressing up with a burning passion. Everything was too tight, not easy to fight in. If anything happened he’d have to rip the seams on every piece of clothing to be able to maneuver his weapons properly. And fancy clothes dont have space for weapons. He didn't like that one bit. Jaskier looked at his friend. His eyes pleading with him.

“Please Geralt. Just for today and her birthday. I couldn't care less what you wear at any other point on this trip.” He had walked closer to Geralt now. About a meter away from him. He extended his hand, the bag in his hand. Geralt looked from the bag to his friend. His teeth and jaw clenched.

He let out a loud huff and grabbed the bag from the bard.

“Fine.” He said through gritted teeth and began taking off his clothing. Jaskier smiled before turning his attention to Roach, getting her stalled and tacked so when Geralt was dressed they could leave.

“If we move with a bit of a haste we could make it there before breakfast.” Jaskier said as he mounted his horse, looking at his friend. His hand slapped over his face. The witcher looked utterly ridiculous in his new attire. The bright red and orange vest a-top a cream tunic, his legs tight in some disgustingly ugly corduroy pants. The pants were obviously smaller than the seamstress he bought them off claimed them to be. The ends of the pants came nearly mid calf on Geralt’s legs. His pasty white ankles and feet shining in the early morning sun.

“Jesus Geralt. Those are worse than the ones I got for Pavetta’s party.” The bard could no longer hold in his laughter. Did Gerarlt look like a nobleman? Sure, but his size, white hair, and bright yellow eyes really didn't help the situation.

“Jaskier, I will kill you for this.” Geralt grumbled angered as he pulled his socks up his feet and over his calves. Luckily for him (and Jaskier) his boots went higher than his pants, making it harder to notice that the pants he was wearing were way too small.

“At least I’m not making you wear a big hat with a feather, those are truly hideous.” Geralt mounted Roach, more carefully then he normally does in fear his pants could bust at the seams.

“I had to wrap you up nice and pretty to present you to my sister.” Jaskier commented as he led his horse; Napoleon to the main road, Geralt and Roach in tow.

The two men rode in a comfortable silence for some time, but as they got closer and closer to Jaskier’s home, all Geralt could hear was his frantic heartbeat. Jaskier’s palms get sweaty and his throat dry, no matter how much water he drinks from his water skin.

“Jaskier. You need to calm down. Your fucking heart beat is driving me insane.” Geralt hissed. They could see the end of the valley they had been traveling in. Geralt looked out in the distance, his eyes saw the castle first. It was very far, but he could tell how beautiful it was from where they were.

“Maybe you just shouldn’t listen to it then.” Jaskier barked back.

“You know I have no control over it, idiot. Take a deep breath. I know you're scared, I understand. But from the sounds of it your sister desperately misses you, I don't think she would ask you to come see her if she was going to hate you.” Geralt didn't talk much at all, that everyone knew. He was a man of few words. But when he did speak it was wiser than most people ever expected. People tended to forget the age of the white haired man, as he stopped ageing physically in his late twenties.

Jaskier smiled softly at his friend's words, he listened to him and took a few deep breaths, calling himself down. Geralt was right. His sister seemed eager as ever to see him again.

The two men approached the entrance to the city. Geralt was more than shocked. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen a city so beautiful in his entire life. The streets were lined in beautiful stone, flowers, vines, greenery all around every corner. The banners that were hanging on the outside of the main gates caught Geralt’s eyes. The crests on them were brightly colored in greens and blues, a very large diamond in the center. Their horses rode into the entrance of the town. Jaskier’s heart was calm, steady, his face was bright and had a smile Geralt had never seen on him before. He was finally home.

“Welcome to Inritha (In-Rithe-A) the capital of Unthya (Un-The-A) Geralt. Welcome to my home.”

Their horses traveled down the stone brick road slowly, the city was buzzing already even with it being the early hours of the morning. Geralt was surprised to see everyone look so...happy, care free. Enjoying their lives. They looked as though nothing was a fret, no monster looming. Geralt was mesmerized by the city. The buildings were built out of what looked to him like limestone, a building material he so rarely saw in other parts of the Continent. The buildings were being taken over by vines and moss, flowers all over. He’d never seen so many butterflies in his life.

“Jaskier-'' his voice was barely a whisper, the bard turning to look at him as they rode side by side. Jaskier couldn't help but smile as his friend admired the beauty he himself had so easily forgotten over the years.

“I know, it's beautiful. I've forgotten myself.”

The two men continued riding their horses up the road closer and closer to the castle. The longer they road tho more attention they got from passer buys. Geralt could hear their whispers.

It couldn't be. Could it?

THE Geralt of Rivia? Here in Inritha?

Mummy look! It's the butcher!!

Has Prince Jaskier finally returned home?

For the first time in what seemed like his entire life, the hushed whispers Geralt heard as he rode through a city were not of hate and disgust. But of admiration and curiosity. The entire time Geralt and Jaskier rode through the city, he never once had the urge to grab either of his swords that were at his side.

The two men approached the gates of the castle, four armored guards stood outside. The put their hand up in motion for the men to stop. One who looked as tho to be the commander of sorts stepped forward poking between both men. Eyes lingering for a long while on the two.

“State your name and what business you have in Inritha at this early hour.” Jaskier dismounted his horse, waking a few feet forward.

“My name is Jaskier Alfred Pankratz son of Dastrill and Alvere Pankratz. This is my companion Geralt Of Rivia, we are here on behalf of my sister, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz’s 25th birthday.” Jaskier bowed his head lowly, keeping eye contact with the commander in front of him.

“Prince Jaskier?!?” The man clearly looked flustered and embarrassed for not recognizing the prince of his own kingdom. All four men quickly bowed their heads.

“Please accept my apology your highness, we welcome you home. As do we welcome your honored guest.” Jaskier smiled and told the men to not trouble themselves with an apology. Geralt continued to watch from atop Roach, still not use to being idolized instead of feared. Honored guest. Geralt thought to himself. He could get use to the new treatment. Jaskier remounted Napoleon the gates to the castle walls opening. The both road threw, all four men bowed their heads as the two walked threw. Not once did they threaten Geralt’s life. They were led by a guard to the stables where they left their horses.

Geralt could hear Jaskier heart beating again in his chest as they were led inside the castle. Geralt tried to concentrate on his friend, to be there for him but he couldn't help but let his eyes wander all over the castle's walls, it was a bright exterior. The walls polished, candles everywhere. Large windows allowing for natural lighting. Nothing dark or gloomy about the castle at all. He felt uplifted..cheary almost. As they neared the entrance to the grand hall where the King, Queen, Princess along with some others were. Geralt could hear the light conversation, and the clicking of silver on plates, they were eating breakfast. But he could still hear Jaskier’s heart beating in his chest. Geralt placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as they walked, giving it a soft squeeze. The action made Jaskier more worried if the witcher was feeling alright, as it was abnormally out of character for the man. But he said nothing, appreciating the gesture.

They got to the door and just as the guard was about to push the doors open Jaskier grabbed his arm.

“Could we maybe skip the loud over dramatic announcements of my arrival? I have not seen my family in years.” The guard only nodded, bowed his head and walked back outside to his post. Jaskier looked over at his friend, as he put his hand on the door ready to push it open.

“Now or never.” Jaskier said as he opened the door. Both men walked into the large room, the talking stopped almost instantly. Geralt stood at the door, not wanting to impose on the important reunion of his friend and his family. He followed Jaskiers gaze to the table ahead of them in the front of the room. The room was lined with huge floor to ceiling windows, the light of the early morning sun shone brightly making the marble floors glisten.

“JASKIER!!!” The loud scream of a girl nearly made Geralt jump out of his skin, his hand reaching back for a sword that wasn't there in instinct.

It made Jaskier jump but the smile that covered his face was even bigger than the one he had seen as he walked through the city. Geralt followed Jaskier’s gaze to a young woman. The sight of her alone made Geralt want to pass out. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life. Her hair was the same chestnut brown that Jaskier had, but it was long, hip length. She had it pulled back slightly out of her face, a few baby hairs framed her face. Oh her face. Geralt thought as though he was looking at a living breathing angel. He heard her chair scrape roughly on the ground before it loudly crashed on the floor. She raced around the long table from her mothers side and sprinted to her brother. She practically threw herself on him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, stumbling back a few steps. Everything was quite as the two embraced. Geralt's eyes went to the king and queen who were now standing. The queen looked just like (Y/N) but her hair was black, long stripes of grey peeking through her hair. The crown atop her head glistened in the light. Her right hand was tightly around her husband's arm, her other hand placed softly over her mouth as she looked at her children. Her husband looked much like Jaskier. His hair was the same color as both of their children, but much like his wife’s, much of it had turned grey. His eyes were the same cornflower blue that Jaskier had.

Minutes passed in silence before Jaskier put his hands on his sisters shoulders, pulling her away from him. He put one hand on her cheek as he examined her features. Her pale cheeks were damp with tears. But not sad tears. Tears of joy.

“My sister, how you’ve grown.” Geralt could hear the tears in the bard's voice. He couldn't see him but he could hear everything.

(Y/N) fingers gently brushed over her brother’s face as she smiled at him.

“My brother, how you haven't aged a day. You look just as I remember you. Maybe a few more wrinkles.” She teased. He laughed softly. Wiping his eyes with his hand before pulling her into another bone crushing embrace. She was much shorter than Jaskier, barely shoulder level with him. Geralt was shocked to remember she would be turning 25 in two days. She was still young in the face, beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to see her more up close.

While the siblings spoke their parents moved from the spots at the table, standing behind (Y/N). Alvere was the first to pull him into a tight embrace after her daughter let go. Her fingers gently combed through his hair as she inhaled his scent deeply.

“My dear son how I've missed you.” She whispers slowly into his ear. Geralt was starting to feel bad for eavesdropping. Not that he could help it. He was still standing at the entrance to the grand hall yet he could hear everything.

Jaskiers father hugged him next, it was not nearly as long as the outer two but both men were okay with it. Understanding that their relationship had never been one for long father son hugs.

“It is good to see you again my boy.” His hand clasped down on his son's shoulder.

The four of them stood close together, smiling more than Geralt ever thought possible. It almost made his heart turn. Deep, deep, deep, down the witcher longed for a family that would look at him the way they looked at Jaskier. He often cured the universe for not giving him an option when it came to what he had become. He clung to the few memories he had of his mother. But as years passed they became harder and harder to remember, more painful. But he had. Made a new sort of family over the years. From Jaskier, to his brothers at Kaer Morhen.

“(Y/N), mum, dad, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” Jaskier turned his head towards the door to the hall. Geralt stood tall, shoulders pressed back, his hair framed his face gracefully. Even in the entirely ugly attire he was in, he made himself as presentable and as proper as possible. (Y/N)’s eyes grew bigger when her eyes met his. He once again was taken aback by her beauty. Her eyes were a powerful emerald green matching similarly to the color of her brother's tunic, but brighter. Her mouth fell slightly agape when she realized who it was. The eyes were a dead give away that he was in fact a witcher, but once she saw the silver medallion that rested on his chest, she knew.

Jaskier nodded his head for Geralt to walk forward and he did, his footsteps were light, his pace slow and steady as he walked closer to the royal family. (Y/N)’s hand gently covered her mouth in excitement. Her eyes flickering to her brother who grinned at her.

“A bit of an early birthday gift.” He winked. Once Geralt was closer to the group Jaskier turned so he could introduce them, at his sister's side. All eyes were on him. Even the few people who were still seated at the table were looking at him. He started to feel a bit more uneasy. He started to remember how far away his swords were if he needed them. This alone was beginning to make him panic. He was not used to being welcomed into royal courts unless it was specifically for a hunt.

“This is Geralt of Rivia, one of the most feared, renowned, and skilled Witcher’s the content has to offer. And also my best friend.”

Geralt's eyes were back on (Y/N)’s, his worries dropped more when she smiled brightly at him. Her eyes gleamed.

Geralt bowed his head to the three of them, “ it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, your highnesses.” (Y/N) was nearly blown over by the sultry sound of his voice. She had only heard stories of the witcher. Never see him for herself and definitely had never heard him speak. She never expected a monster hunter to be as handsome as he was. She admired every feature he had. Her eyes fixating on his chiseled jawline, the light gray stubble across his chin and cheeks.

“My, what a pleasure it is to meet such a famed warrior as yourself Geralt!” The king spoke before (Y/N) could, which she was happy about as she did not trust her voice to not waver at his beauty in that moment.

“You my dear are very popular around here. Your stories are legendary. The school children even host yearly plays, Reenacting your most beloved stories.” (Y/N)’s mother added her finger pointing light hardly at Geralt. Her hand came out gracefully from her side to shake the Witcher’s hand. He gently took it, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His attention returned to (Y/N).

“I’m terribly sorry I’m the birthday gift from your brother this year.” She shook her head almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Do not be sorry Geralt-'' the way she said his name made him feel as though he could keel over. “I would like to thank you, for protecting my brother for the years you have. He never skips on his gratitude for you in his letter to me. For that we are all eternally grateful for you.” She reached her hand out. Geralt wasted no time in grabbing her hand, shaking it gently. He was dying inside, but he couldn't let her or anyone else see. He took a gentle step towards her, his head lowering softly, his soft lips were placed on the back of her small hand. The small action made the young girls' faces burn red. Her eyes flicked to her brother who smugly smiled, knowing danm well his gift was going to take the cake.

“Well, you both should come join us, we just started eating.” The king said with a smile, with a quick wave of his hand two more places we set.

(Y/N) gently removed her hand from Geralt’s. Walking towards the table, both men in tow. As she reached her spot she moved her plate and glass to the middle seat that had been prepared, leaving Jaskier a seat next to their mother and Geralt a seat next to her. They all sat and waited as food was served to them. (Y/N) could feel Geralt watching her as she ate, her brother deep in conversation with her parents about his most recent travels. But she wasnt listening. Her attention was only on the man seated to her left. She looked over at the man, eyed him up and down then turned to her brother. For the first time she noticed how ugly their attire was.

“Gods Jaskier who dressed you two?” She asked as she sipped her orange juice. Both men looked at her. Jaskier looked a bit hurt and Geralt only snorted.

“I told him the clothes were horrendous.” Geralt said beside the young woman making her giggle. The sound made his heart beat faster. This was also when he realized how sensibly everyone else in the room was dressed, and how much they stood out. (Y/N) was in a thin white cotton dress, it was around knee length and a light sweater was on her shoulders. Her mother and father dressed similarly. Their clothes looking normal, comfortable.

“Oh my dear brother. What have you done to the poor witcher.” She laughed, turning her attention to him. She could see how uncomfortable the clothes made him. The vest was way too tight and he was practically bursting out of his pants, not that she minded, she gladly enjoyed the view.

“He is torturing me. That's what.” Geralt scoffed and she couldn't help but giggle again.

“You're so dramatic Geralt it's truly not that bad.” Her head flicked to her brother.

“Jaskier don't be rude.” She tutted him like a mother, it made Geralt snort under his breath as he took a bite of his eggs. She stood and walked behind him. He was stiff at her movements.

“Do you mind?” Her fingers were on the strings of the vest. He shook his head no and she quickly untied the tight strings, and it fell from his shoulders. She took it off and handed it to one of the maids

“You can burn that horridly ugly thing.” She said as she sat back down.

“I do not remember you being so rude, little sister.” Jaskier quipped.

“What I think is rude is how you made sure you got the more presentable clothing and dressed your poor friend in those horrendous colors. Have you seen his pants, Jaskier?? It's a miracle he can still breath.” Her eyes looked towards the witcher who was already looking at her with a cocky smirk on his face, glad she was putting Jaskier in his place for the ugly outfit choice.

“I can take you to the seamstress later today, if you’d like Geralt.” Her smile was like a drug.

“I’d appreciate that m'lady.” He said softly.

“And I can show you around the city, both of you. But in return I would like to hear some of your stories, first hand if that’s doable.”

“That sounds like a reasonable trade.” Geralt quipped back.

“Then it's a date, Witcher.”

“A date it is.”

450 notes · View notes

bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #snk x you #snk x y/n #connie x you #connie x y/n

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accio-moony · 4 years

Text

Escape || Remus Lupin x Reader SMUT

Request: no. A/N: I’ve been working on this for months. I am disgusted with myself for taking so long. Not fully edited, so probably lots of mistake. Forgive me. Word Count: ~9k Characters/Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James, Lily, and Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew Summary: [NO VOLDEMORT AU, post Hogwarts Marauder’s era]It’s near a full moon, but you and your boyfriend Remus are going to Harry’s fifth (5th) birthday celebration. Remus gets really turned on when he sees you with Harry and tries to control it, but he can’t. WARNINGS: face fucking, breeding kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, marking (scratching, hicks, biting), grinding hair pulling, choking, teasing, dom/sub relationship, overstimulation, dirt talk [all in no particular order god I’m disgusting] *not my gifs*

A loud crash sounds from outside your bathroom, making you jump in surprise and almost slip on the slick shower floor. Out of instinct, your arms come up to cover your chest, though the curtain covers you and whoever it was hasn’t made it to the bedroom yet. Quickly, you turn the water off, and you’re left cold as the remaining hot water runs off of your body. You grab the fluffy towel you had set out and wrap it around your frame before picking your wand up from the counter and slowly opening the bathroom door. You sneakily move to the bedroom doorway and peak down the hall. A tall shadowed figure stands in the great room, a duffle bag in one of his hands, a wand in the other.

“Y/n” the familiar voice calls to you when the man sees you. “Hold on. Lumos.” A small orb of light sits at the end of the man’s wand, and you can quickly identify the face of your boyfriend of several years, Remus, from under the blue-glow of the wand’s light.

“Oh, Remus,” you sigh, and your shoulders relax. “You scared me.” You walk down the hall to him and smack his arm playfully.

“Hmm, I missed you, too,” he grumbles and leans down, kissing you.

The kiss is soft and quick, but still holds all the love you’ve both built up over the years. When he pulls his lips away from yours, you whine, not yet having opened your eyes as you revel in the messed feelings of his lips on yours. He had just spent two weeks with one of his best mates, Sirius, but he was now home.

“Rem,” you say as you open your eyes, but he’s no longer standing in front of you. “Remus?” You call and turn back down the hall.

You find him in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his duffle bag which he had put down. His head leans into his hands as his elbows rest on his knees. You move from the hall to stand between his legs, but he doesn’t look up at you. You carefully grab his cheeks in your hands and pull his face up so he’s looking at you, but he keeps his eyes closed with furrowed brows.

His actions confuse you. He’s usually very affectionate with you, loving any touch you give him. Slightly confused by his lack of reaction, you think of any obvious reason he could be acting this way, and your mind found the answer rather quickly: the full moon is in just two days. You turn your head back to him, not saying a word as you remove one hand from his cheek and trace your index finger down the bridge of his nose. He softens under your touch this time and quickly reaches up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your belly.

You giggle as you run your fingers through his hair. “I thought we had planned to meet at James’s, honey?” You question him.

At the mention of the small celebration that takes place in just over an hour, Remus drops his arms from your waist and leaned back on his elbows with his head lolled back, and of course, you take immediate notice to his change in demeanor.

“We don’t have to go, Rem,” you quickly counter. “We can stay home, just the two of us, in bed if you’d like.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You want to go. I would want to go if I weren’t so… well, you know. And they’re expecting us.” He looks into your eyes as he stands from the bed, his tall frame making you stumble back a few steps as he becomes unexpectedly close, towering over you several inches. He places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you as he plants a kiss to your cheek, but his lips linger and wander back towards your ear, his breath hot against your skin making your blood boil. “I’ll be fine,” he says lowly, “but you better go finish getting ready before I change my mind.” His hand slides down and then under your arm, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your chest is pressed against his own. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” His lips trail back over your cheek and jaw until they reach your lips. He captures yours with his own in a hungry kiss, the hand not around your waist wrapping into your still wet hair and pulling it backwards so he has better access to your mouth. The tension of the pull makes you let out a whiny moan into the kiss as your skin heats up.

You pull away and look into his eyes. They’re dark with lust and hunger. “Go,” he demands, and you scurry into the bathroom, Remus clapping his hand on your butt as you walk away, closing the door behind you and finishing getting ready.

Once the door is closed behind you, Remus pushes his hand down on his semi, trying to give it some sort of relief. You don’t know yet, but he had gone to spend some time with Sirius, because they were discussing how Remus would ask you to marry him, and he had picked out the ring. You’re the only person in his life to ever make him feel normal and worthy of love. You had convinced him, after many years, that he is not a monster. He’s just Remus, with a furry-little-problem once a month. It had taken him years to believe you, and sometimes it’s still hard for him to, but you had shown him that his lycanthropy does not define who he is, and that he is, in your words, the best guy you’ve ever met and ever will meet. It wasn’t until the both of you left Hogwarts that he knew you were right. He knew you would always be by his side, no matter what condition, no matter what happens. You stood with him for the seven years of Hogwarts like you had known him all your life. You didn’t bat an eye when he told you about him, and you worked with his fellow marauders to become an animagus for him, so you could be with him for his transformations, not just to take care of him on the ends of it. He knows, and as his friends have pointed out on many occasions, you would never leave him. You love him too much. Remus would have to do something truly terrible for you to leave his side. After having convinced himself for so long that he could never have a real family, or even friends, you finally made him grow comfortable enough to the idea to believe he can, though he hadn’t told you yet. To your knowledge, he was still an insecure boy who thought he could never love. He knew you wouldn’t stop until you knew you had convinced him, and then you’d continue reinforcing the idea from then on. He’s able to imagine you with a grown baby, carrying his child, but he never mentioned it to anyone until this past holiday when he told Sirius. He had always pushed the thought aside, not wanting to get his hopes up, not wanting to pass his lycanthropy to an innocent infant. If you loved him for what he is, and you take care of him, then he knows you would do the same for your child, but the thought of passing the trait still terrifies him, but to a lesser extent.

He turns to his bag on the bed and pulls the small velvet box out of the hidden pocket inside, going to hide it in one of his drawers, one you never go in — his underwear drawer. He opens the box, admiring the ring for a moment. The ring is small, simple but elegant, and he knows you’ll love it, he knows it reflects your personality and relationship perfectly. It’s simple: besides all the crazy stuff in between, the main picture is just love — the only thing that matters in the relationship. He still has to decide how to ask you. He knows he wants it to be romantic, but he also wants it to be as soon as possible. The romantic part isn’t difficult, it’s the having to wait until they’re not so close to the full moon. He could ask you tonight, before the gathering, but he doesn’t want you to think of it as a rash decision he made because of the full moon. If it was, he would’ve asked you months ago, maybe on a night where you were scolding him for trying to drink away the post-transformation pain. Quite the contrary, really. Usually, during a full moon, he’d get more self-conscious, feel more like you deserve better, but the full moons have begun to prove to him that he will marry you. You’re always there no matter what, and you always will be. He knows that, and he wants to keep it that way.

He hears the bathroom door open, and he quickly shoves the box haphazardly into the drawer.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him suspiciously.

“Uh,” he grabs a random pair of long black socks. “Looking for these,” he excuses, turning to you as he holds up the socks for you to see. It’s then he notices you’re in your favorite matching black lace bra and thong, and he curses his blood for running hot and straight to his groin.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, still skeptical as you walk closer to him.

As you reach the closet and start to look for an outfit, he quickly closes the drawer to try to hide the box from you.

He rummages through his clothes, picking out a plain white dress shirt with a dark red cable-knit sweater that contrasts just enough to wear with the pair of jeans he already had on and his favorite sneakers, sporting his signature comfortable-but-intelligent, soft attire and just enough of his old house colors. He puts the clothes on the bed with a subtle tie and pulls his jumper over his head, leaving him bare. In the mirror, you can see his back muscles flex and tense as he pulls the dress shirt up over his shoulders and start to button it. You walk over to him, laying the skirt and top you chose next to his outfit and helping him button up his shirt.

“Let me help,” you smirk as you grab his shirt, looking up into his amber eyes innocently. You let your fingers trace over his muscles and is scars as you admire it all, never shying away from his flaws. When the shirt is buttoned, you grab the tie from the bed and toss it around his neck, grabbing the other end as it comes around and tugging his neck so he gets to a height where you can stand on your toes and kiss him passionately, biting and pulling on his lower lip as you pull away, releasing it softly as you lick your lips, looking into his pupil-blown eyes.

As casually as possible, you step back from him and grab your clothes. First your mini skirt, pulling it over your bum and purposely squeezing into it give Remus a show. You grab your semi-casual blouse and pull it on, then tucking the bottom hem into the skirt.

By this point Remus had his tie done and was pulling the sweater over his head, smoothing it down his chest. You grab your small wedges and wand before walking towards the door.

“Let’s go, Remmy,” you call to him as you walk into and down the hall, your hips naturally swaying with each step.

Behind you, when he sees your hips move like that, Remus growls under his breath, but quickly subdues it with a cough as he follows you, grabbing his own wand on the way out, failing to pretend he could get the image of your plump ass out of his head. You grab the gift-wrapped box for the party, and the two of you went into the front garden, just by the old, rickety front gate. Remus holds his arm out to you, and you take it, preparing yourself for the sickening feeling of apparation. Your feet are lifted off the ground as you swirl into a spaceless darkness, squeezing through time and space in a way that would be nauseating to anyone who didn’t do it several times a day.

It had been several hours since you and Remus had arrived at James and Lily’s house. You were in the kitchen with Lily, talking about what life is like, and how it changes once you marry and have children. You want that with Remus, and you had since before the two of you left Hogwarts. In Remus’ eyes, to your knowledge, he could never put that burden on someone for the rest of their lives. He didn’t want to risk passing his lycanthropy on to his children, who did nothing wrong, did nothing to deserve the condition, no matter how often you remind Remus that he didn’t do anything wrong, that he didn’t do anything to deserve the painful monthly transition. You wish you could make him see himself through your eyes, make him see how perfect he is. You wish you could make him see himself through his friends eyes, make him see how James, Sirius, and Peter adore him. You’ve confided in Lily about this before, and every time, she tells you how James tells her the same thing, wishing his friend could see how much he’s truly worth. The conversation dies down when you don’t respond, but just think about your boyfriend and how amazing he is. It upsets you to see his self-esteem so low.

Your mind shifts back to when you were getting ready, and how Remus touched you, how he kissed you. You feel your skin heat up and your insides churn just thinking about it. You know it’s only a few nights to the full moon, and those nights, Remus gets sexually needy and rough. It’s something you love from him. He’s usually a softer lover, and you admire him for that, but sometimes you need something more stimulating. That need is rare for you and strangely correlates perfectly with his own

You squeeze your thighs together, trying to find some friction, but you are unsatisfied. You leave the kitchens and find Remus in the living room with his friends. He’s sat back in the couch, almost zoned out. You go to walk towards him with a simple innocent smile on your face, but you’re stopped when you feel a small hand grab your own.

“Aunt Y/n!” You hear Harry call from behind you. You turn to him, giving him a big smile.

“Hi, Harry!” You exclaim. “Happy birthday!” “Thank you,” he says politely and hugs around your legs.

You chuckle and get an idea, a potentially dangerous idea. With your back towards Remus, you bend at your waist to lift Harry in your arms, but, as you hoped, your skirt rides up your hips, exposing just enough of your thong to Remus that you can feel his eyes burning into your back. You conceal your smirk with a big smile as you talk to Harry, “Where’s your mommy, huh?” Your knuckles nip around his nose playfully as you hold him in your arms, balanced on your hip as you walk into the kitchen with him still in your arms. Sweetly, he lays his head against your shoulder, and almost immediately falls asleep. Lily coos at her son when he she’s you with him.

“I don’t see how Remus isn’t dying to see you like this with his child,” she comments, kissing her sons head.

“I may bring it up to him again soon,” you comment. “I want him to know I truly want a life with him. But I’ll wait until a week or so after this full moon. I don’t want to aggravate him.”

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Remus looks over at Sirius once you’ve gone out of sight and ear-shot. “Fucking, damn-it,” he swears, unintentionally getting all of his friends attention. He blushes, trying to act like he didn’t just say that in a most aggravated tone.

“What is it?” James asks his friend, his eyebrow raised.

“I, uh —“ he starts, but is cut off.

“Can I tell them?” Sirius tries to, but fails to whisper to Remus. “Please?”

“Tell us what?”

“We’ll there’s no point hiding it now,” Remus sighs, giving Sirius at death glare. “You’ve gone and told them somethings up.”

“Great!” Sirius turns back to James and Peter. “He’s taking the jump.”

After a moment of confused silence, and Remus rolling his eyes, Peter speaks up. “The what?”

“The jump: he’s going to ask her!” Sirius explains, giddily happy.

“Finally!” James exclaims.

Remus blushes deeply, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s no point not to. She’s everything to me… and she’s proved time and time again that I’m everything to her. She’s the only person to ever have made me feel normal, worthy of love.”

James and Sirius start high-fiving excitedly.

“I mean, I already knew at this point that starting a family would be a part of this, but Merlin, seeing her with Harry like that just makes my heart want to explode.” Remus pulls a pillow off the couch and into his lap. “It’s turning me on, you know?..” He says under his breath. “Plus, I think she’s teasing me.”

“I’ve got this!” James says and stands up.

Sirius and Remus both grab his wrists, making him sit back down.

“Don’t you dare—“ Remus starts, but it’s too late. James sets his plan into motion.

“Harry!” James calls from the living room, giving Remus a wink.

Harry’s head shoots up off your shoulder at the sound of his father calling his name.

“We’ll see,” you smile to Lily, ending your conversation and turning out of the kitchen with Harry still in your arms. By the time you’ve reached the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, he’s wiggling so much that it’s difficult for you to keep hold of him. Again, you bend at the waist and place his little feet on the ground. Your blouse falling slightly and exposing your cleavage as you had secretly hoped. You stand up again, and watch Harry run over to his father and jump into his lap. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Remus push a pillow down onto his lap and cross his legs. You smirk to yourself and look at him, his eyes boring you a hungry look, and you decide that you have to use the bathroom, meaning you’d walk right by him. You walk across the living room, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear as you head to the bathroom in the next hall, passing the end of the couch that Remus is seated on. When you get close enough to him, he reaches over the arm of the couch and grabs your waist, the side opposite him. He spins you and pulls you so you’re sitting in his lap, and he slyly removes the pillow, making you land right on his cock. You squeal slightly on your way down, and when you feel his hot breath against your ear for the second time tonight, you can’t help but squirm in his lap, “accidentally” creating friction between the two of you.

Remus’ hands grab your hips and hold them still, holding you down against him.

“You feel that, babygirl?” He asks in a hushed voice so only you can hear him as he pushes his hips up from the couch, his hard member pressing into you. “You got me all hot and bothered in front of all of our friends. You’re going to have to fix it for me.” He nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing hot on your neck, and you let out a whiney moan at his words. “I would take you in the bathroom now, but with what I’ll have to do to you, there won’t be enough space in the there.” His lips graze your neck, and he unexpectedly flattens his tongue against your skin, leaving it feeling like it’s boiling. He hums at the taste of your sweat. “And I want to be the only one to hear you screaming my name. You are mine, after all.” He leaves an open mouthed kiss on your shoulder, his tongue grazing the spot at he kisses it. “So, go get your purse. We’re leaving.” His teeth nip at your ear and he pinches your butt under your skirt as he pushes you off of him.

For a moment, you don’t move, too stunned to do anything, but to your dismay, and Remus’ impatience, his hand flattens against your lower back as he leans forward in his seat, pushing you in the direction of the kitchen. On your way stumbling into the kitchen to find your purse and say goodbye to your friends, you look over your shoulder back at the man you love. He leans closer still to his friends, saying something inaudible to you that makes them all smirk and chuckle. Blushing, you scurry over to your purse.

“Got her,” Remus smirks from the living room to his friends.

“I honestly didn’t know you had that in you, Moony,” James laughs.

“She does things to me.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” You hear Lily from behind you.

You turn to her, your purse in hand, and you pull her into a goodbye hug. “Remus wants us to go home,” you almost whisper.

She grabs your shoulders and pulls away from you, holding you in front of her. “Is it what I think it is?”

You smirk and look over her shoulder into the living room.

She pulls you into one more hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she tells you when she pulls away again. “Or anything James would do!”

Once Remus lays his eyes on you again after you’ve stepped back into the living room, he quickly stands, waiting for you as you walk over to him, and he takes your hand, pulling you away without any word to anyone.

“Bye, boys!” You call over your shoulder as your frustrated boyfriend pulls you out the front door. Your feet barely hit the garden when you’re lurching through space again, Remus disapperating from Godric’s Hollow with you on his arm. You feet hit the ground in the front garden of the home you and Remus share, and you’re instantly stumbling as he’s pulling you up the front step and into the house. He slams the door behind himself once you’ve both entered the house, locking it with a swish of his hand, as his other grabs your lower back and pulls you against him as he growls down at you with a matching look of hunger in his darkened irises.

You feel that he’s harder than he was just a moment ago when you were sat in his lap, and you could swear that you had long since soaked through your panties.

His hand not holding your back grabs your face as he pulls your lips to his in a harsh, passionate kiss. The hand that was on your back sliding down to just under your butt as he lifts you up. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist to help him support you, and your skirt bunches up to your waist, your thong pressing against his leather belt.

He walks forward, pushing your back against the door as his lips move from your lips to your neck, sucking and biting, effectively marking you as his own with the dark bruises he leaves behind.

You whine his name breathlessly at the feeling of his teeth, tongue, and lips all grazing and working at your neck. In hearing your name, Remus growls against your soft skin, biting down on it as he replaces your feet on the ground then pulls away, much to your displeasure. He walks backwards towards the couch, dragging you along with him by your hands. He sits down on the comfortable couch, his hands leaving yours and sliding down your sides and back towards your butt. As his hand rests on the top of your ass, he grabs the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down excruciatingly slow, but once he zipper is over the curve of your plump butt, he quickly employs the new margin of space available and shoves the skirt down your legs, letting it fall to the ground silently. Hastily, Remus’s hands grab at the back of your things, pulling them down and over to the sides of his own, making you straddle his lap. As he reconnects his lips to your own, one hand grabbing at the back of your blouse, the other cradling your face, you moan. You revel in the feeling of his plush lips for the first time this evening, being less caught up in passion where you can’t think, yet your senses are still crowded with longing. They work effortlessly against your mouth, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring the area same as he would if he had never kissed you before, brushing over your lips, against your teeth, the inside of your cheeks, and the roof of your mouth before finally pressing his tongue down on yours, which had been begging his silently. As you two mix your mouths, you moan at the taste of him, the remainder of the one drink he had intoxicating you as if you were the one who had drank it.

You grind your hips down onto his jean-clad crotch, the denim rubbing perfectly through your soaked thong and against your aching core, a whine escaping your throat and into his mouth. Your hands slide under his sweater, then under his dress shirt, feeling his hard muscles under his warm, tan skin, littered with soft hills from scratches and wounds of the many previous full moons he’s had to endure.

Remus leans back, detaching his lips from yours for a moment only long enough to remove the red sweater before fervently reattaching himself. His hands hold you still against him, one keeping your hips down on his own, the other holding loosely tangled in your hair. He could leave his hand in your hair for an eternity, sexual or not. He loves playing with it, twirling it between his fingers when you lay your head in his lap on the couch while he reads; he knows you love head and back massages at night and how they put you to sleep in a mere minute. Your hair is soft and silky, easy to run his hands through without getting caught on any knots or tangles. He also know how much you love it when he grabs your hair by it’s roots, tugging enough for tension but not pain, or when he puts it into a make-shift pony tail when you’re going down on him.

Your soft lips leave the warmth of his mouth, pulling them away and down over his jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your tongue brushes over his scruffy face with every kiss, tasting the salty sweat that has begun to seep from his pores the more you touch him. Trailing your lips down his neck, sucking soft marks into it, biting on his collar bone or shoulder as you pass it, your hands nimbly work at the buttons on his shirt, shaking from the excitement running through you, the continuous passion you hold for your boyfriend. Your mouth follows the buttons as the come undone down his chest, adjusting your position in his lap and on the couch to keep moving a few inches with each new free button as you kiss, lick, and suck at his supple skin.

When your tongue licks at the top of his faint happy trail, feeling his grip on you tighten, you kiss back up his chest, pushing the shirt to the sides to reveal his tones abs and pecks. Remus isn’t super muscular, he isn’t burly by any means, but he’s toned and has just enough muscles to look strong and soft at the same time. You run your fingers through the short chest hair that lightly strews across his chest as you kiss each of his scars, following them until they stop or disappear behind him. His scars are a story, they show how strong of a man he is, the man you love more than anything. His story has become your story, one you’ve loved since the beginning.

You reach back up to his neck with your lips, kiss and continue to mark up the length of it as you return your mouth to his. You lean in just enough to feel your lips brush together softly, but you pull back when Remus tries to connect them. You smirk as you place a single, hot kiss to his lips before getting off his lap completely, sitting on your heals, your body supported by your knees on the floor in front of him. You start you lips back at the top of his happy trail again, and he pushes his hips forward, leaning back farther into the couch for both of you to be more comfortable in the coming activity. Your mouth trails down to his waistline as your hands run up and down his thighs slowly. When you reach the line of his jeans against his waist, your hands slide up, slowly, towards his belt, squeezing his painfully hard erection through his clothes as you pass. Once the buckle is free, you pull back completely, sitting back and looking up at him with your innocent doe eyes as you pull the leather from the denim loops. Your hands find the button on his jeans, quickly popping it open and then carefully attaching to the zipper as you pull it down.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pull down, he lifts his butt from the couch cushion enough for you to slide the fabric over his butt. You only pull to to just past his upper thighs, leaning his legs covered but giving you comfortable access to his treasure. Your soft hands rub back up his legs and over the material of his boxer briefs, finding his length and giving it a firm squeeze at the base, skidding your hand back and forth just and inch or so as you kiss at the damp spot over the tip of his cock. You slowly wipe your tongue on the spot, giving him an unsatisfying amount of friction.

His hand in your hair yanks your head back with a delectable amount of force, lifting your mouth off of him and forcing you to look up at his as you moan from the tension. He leans forward in his seat, bending low enough for his lips to be by your ear, his hot breath fading over it as he speaks. “You don’t want to tease me anymore tonight, love,” he informs you. “I had already been planning on you not being able to walk for the rest of the week.” He pauses and licks a stripe up your neck before continuing. “But now you’ve got a whole other punishment coming your way.” His hand leaves your hair for just a moment as he cups your cheek softly, leaning back a bit and pulling himself from his underwear. Once his aching cock is free, his hand on your cheek slides back into your hair, forcing you down so your mouth is next to his radiating member before sitting back into the couch completely.

Obeying, your small hands wrap around his cock, and you lick a long, wet stripe up the thick, pulsing vain on the underside. The feeling of it throbbing against your tongue, and the taste of his pre-cum when you reach his tip is almost enough to make you cum there, without being touched. You moan against him, still teasing him, still driving him mad.

His hair in your hair pulls you up only slightly as his other hand grabs and slacks your jaw, forcing you to take his delicious cock into his mouth. “Stop,” he says sternly as he thrusts up into your mouth. “Teasing,” he thrusts again, making you gag as he hits the back of your throat, unprepared. His hand in your hair loosens and his other leaves your jaw, letting you recompose yourself before further coaxing you. “Come on, Princess,” he hums softly, pushing stray hairs out of your face. “Let me see you take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you want to, I know your desperate for it. Take my cock in your mouth, and you’ll get it nice and rough later.”

You whine at his words, quickly wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, spitting over it before lowing your mouth onto him, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you rejoice in the feeling of his cock filling your mouth. You hum against him, pleased to be providing him with pleasure.

Remus starts grunting in time with your head and thrust up shallowly to the same rhythm. His hand drops from your hair when he thinks your ready, and they both grab the sides of your face as he fully fucks up into your mouth. Your hands flatten against his thighs, bracing yourself as you take him down your throat.

He’s grunting and groaning and praising your mouth until you feel him twitch in the back of your throat, before he roughly pulls your mouth off of him. He stands up quickly, shoving his pants the rest of the way down and taking his socks and shoes off with them, leaving them there as he pulls you up, kissing you once passionately, both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you farther into your home and to your bedroom. He pushes you down on the edge of the bed before climbing on, straddling your legs with his knees on either side of your thighs as his hands wrap under your arms and pull you up higher on the bed so that your head rests in the pillows.

Remus’s calloused hands slide under the fabric of your top, pushing it up before grabbing the hem and forcing it over your head. He throws the shirt to the floor somewhere on the room, somewhere neither of you cared about right now. His mouth works down your neck, leaving more marks as he crosses over and down your chest, licking at the top of your breasts above your bra before biting harshly in the same spot. You moan out, loving the feeling of his teeth against you. His nibble hands slide under your arched back, making quick work of your bra as he snaps the band and releases the clasp. That is discarded in an equally irrelevant place as your shirt. As soon as your breasts are free, he leans in, sucking one of your nipples into your mouth harshly, letting his teeth graze over it and bit down ever-so slightly as his other hand cups your opposite mound, rolling and pulling that nipple through his fingers making you moan out his name.

His lips and hand switch sides for an equal moment before they continue down the valley of your chest and your soft stomach, leaving more marks still as he makes his way to your panty-line at an agonizingly slow pace. His fingers grip into the flesh on your sides as he sucks and licks his mark onto your tummy. You’re left trying to string word together to make a sentence, but it’s all incoherent as it just comes out as breathless pants.

You’re able to build your voice back when he just follows your panty-line across your tummy, avoiding the steaming apex of your legs that’s screaming for his attention. “Rem-“ you barely manage, and his lips slow against you as he looks up at you from almost between your legs. “Plea—“ but you can’t finish as you gasp out a breath when you feel his lips switch to your thighs.

“What was that?” he smirks into your leg?

“Ple—“ you try again, only for him to bite into the soft skin of your thigh.

“I need to hear the full word, babygirl,” he says, pulling away from one thigh and moving to the other.

“Please!” You force out, not letting him cut you off with his actions again.

At that, his mouth leave your thighs as he sits up, leaning over you enough to kiss you passionately, and you wrap your hands into his hair. “Good girl,” he smirks against your lips before pulling back again, positioning his face between your thighs while he sits on his knees, leaning forward. Without a warning, he presses his tongue over the wet fabric covering your mound. Me moans against you, feeling how you’ve soaked through your thong, and he can taste you. “Merlin, baby,” he hums into you, sucking you through your panties before pulling back. “You’re so wet, Y/n,” he teases as his fingers gently wrap under the waist line and begin to pull down your thong. “Who did that to you, hm?” He encourages you, throwing your thong off the bed before laying on his stomach between your legs, roughly gripping your thighs in his hands and pushing them up against your chest, giving him a beautiful view of your soaking cunt. He blows hot air over your sensitive core as he waits for you to answer.

“You, Remus! You made me that wet,” you plead for him. He happily obliges and dives in, licking his tongue up and down through your folds without warning. “Oh, fuck,” you curse out in a whine.

His tongue stills and flicks over your swollen clit several times as he rubs the tips of his fingers against your entrance, getting them ready for you. He stops licking as he begins to push his fingers into you slowly, his lips wrapping around your clit instead and sucking the bud into his mouth. His fingers only pushed in slowly until they reached a halt. He gives you zero adjustment time and starts pounding them in and out of your pussy, creating an obscene sound as the curl and twist within you.

You moan out at the sudden sensation, music to his ears as one hand finds this hair, wrapping into it and pulling. He moans into you at the tension you create and hearing your angelic voice do such sinful things. With your legs still pressed to your chest, you can barely reach the one hand into his hair, so the other reaches under your head, grabbing and pulling at the pillow.

He continues fucking his fingers into you at the fast pace, continuing to suck and lick your clit the same. You quickly become a moaning mess, and you’re almost embarrassed by the pornographic sounds you’re making. Your head turn to the side, and you bite into your arm to suppress the sounds. This doesn’t go unnoticed, and Remus pulls away from your center, his face slick with your arousal. His hand leaves the warmth of your walls, smacking down over your cunt and causing you to involuntarily jerk forward.

“Don’t be quiet,” he demands. “Let me hear you, darling. Let me hear the sounds only I can get from you, yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and your mouth releases your arm, but as though he doesn’t trust you to cover it again, he pulls your hand from the pillow, and interlaces his fingers with yours as he dives back in, eating you like he hasn’t eaten in months.

He returns to your cunt at the same pace, but only picks up the speed from there, his fingers digging not you deeper, rougher as he pushes you towards the rapidly approaching edge. He knows your dangerously close, and he pulls the high from you as he moans into you, sending vibrations through you that tip you over the edge. You moan loudly, legs convulsing at the intense peak rushing through your muscles. He pulls your legs down over his shoulders so you’re more comfortable as he continues to work your cunt, you thinking he’s riding out your high. Only he doesn’t stop. He removes his fingers from your hole, but continues sucking on your clit. The sensitivity from the orgasm that just ripped through you puts you right back on the edge. Your hips start to buck and both your hands lace into his hair, gripping tight. The intensity of only being on the verge of your next orgasm has you crying in pleasure, your hands pushing against him as you try to move his face off of you.

Your hands quickly give up as he holds himself onto you, and when he starts shaking his head back and forth with his tongue pressed against you, your pushed over that second edge, your back contracting as your muscles force you to sit up, using his hair as an anchor. He moans into you as you pull his hair, and he slows down, carefully lapping up your juices before kissing back up your body to your lips.

He gives you a chaste kiss before he flips you over, pushing your face down into the bed. His hands hook over your hips, grabbing around them and pulling them up so your ass is in the air on perfect display for him. His hands leave your hips once they’re where he wants them, wrapping them around your wrists and pulling them back behind your back before wrapping one of his large hands over them both to keep them there. His other hand reaches between your legs, spreading them apart so he can comfortably stand on his knees behind you. After your legs were in position, he used the hand not restraining your wrists to grip his cock, rubbing it up against your core, getting it slick and ready for you, but still not entering you.

You moan at the feeling of his throbbing length pressing against you, so close, but not close enough. Your moan, having been a subconscious technique to get him to continue, is not a suitable attempt for him. His hand leaves his cock, still pressed against you as he holds his hips against your own, then smacks down on your ass, wordlessly commanding you to beg for him.

“Remus,” you whine, pushing yourself back against him, and his hand comes down on the opposite cheek. Not good enough. “Please!” Another smack. Still not good enough. “Remus, please!” You try combining the two previous pleas, but he spanks you again, and you know he wants to hear you say it. You know he won’t give you what you both crave until he hears you say it. “Please, Remus! Please, fuck me,” you cry out as his hand comes back down on you, only this time for fun, to make sure both of your cheeks are equally reddened. As you’re whining his name again, his hand leaves your ass and grips himself at the base, pushing into you to the hilt in a quick thrust, no warning.

“Good girl,” he groans from above you as you moan out at the feeling of him so perfectly stretching you. He stills only long enough to get out the two words and move your hair over your shoulder, letting him see the side of your face and the top of your back and shoulders. You don’t have much time to adjust before he pulls out, almost completely, and starts thrusting forward into you again at an agonizingly slow pace. His palm runs over your red cheeks, soothing and kneeling the skin under his hand while still holding your arms behind your back.

The perfect friction, the prefect way he fills you up and reaches every crevice within your walls has you softly moaning for him, but you need more. You start to push your hips back into him, meeting his thrusts in his rhythm but trying to get him to speed up all the same. “Rem,” you moan. “Faster. Please.”

His one hand releases your wrists, the other holding your hips against his as he wraps the first around your throat, pulling you up against him until your back is pressed to his chest. “You want me to pound you, huh, baby?” He breaths hot on your ear, his hips thrusting roughly up into you and hitting your g-spot dead center, causing you to cry out his name. “You’re so needy for my cock?” His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he thrusts again, another cry escaping your lips.

“Yes!” You call out to him. “Please, Remus. I need you.”

You say what he wants, but his reaction if the opposite for you. He pulls away from and out of you completely, pushing you back down onto the bed forcefully, and you bounce a little once you hit the bed. He turns you over again, having you face up as he kneels between your legs again, grabbing them from behind your knee and putting them over his shoulders as he realigns himself effortlessly and continues to pound into you.

The pornographic sounds you make further strive the hungry beast inside him, and he reaches down for you, draping his hand back over your throat and squeezing once more. He continues to hit the bullseye in you repeatedly, almost as if he’s trained his whole life just to please you to such an extent. His thrusts are so precise that you barely registered the build up to your rapidly approaching third orgasm.

“Rem,” you draw out his name, warning him, and he understands.

“Do it, baby,” he commands, and you let go of the force pressing violently against your gut.

You scream his name, your voice hoarse and throat sore as you whine and gasp while you come down, Remus working you through it the whole time.

“Good girl,” he praises you, dropping your legs from his shoulders as his hand leaves your neck and slides up. He cradles your cheek as he leans over you, kissing you passionately as his thrusts slow down. “You’re so beautiful, darling. Just absolutely perfect.”

Remus’ previous aggressive lust, turns into a loving lust, just wanting to be one with you, be a whole instead of two halves. There’s just as much passion as before, it’s just more apparent now without his hunger for you clouding it.

“Remmy,” you whine, too sensitive after three orgasms. You’re still soaking, but you can feel every ridge of his cock as he slides in and out of you. Remus lifts his head from where it was folded into the crook of your neck, looking deep in your eyes. “I can’t. It’s too much.” A tear falls from your eye and runs down your cheek, but he’s quick to catch it, kissing the wet spot it left and then your lips so softly you barely feel it.

“Help me finish, baby. I’m close,” he encourages you to hold on just a few moments more. “You can do it, Princess. You’re being such a good girl for me.”

You nod your head as you look up into his darkened, but soft, eyes. The way his mouth hangs open and his eyebrows furrow together, you can tell he is close. You moan his name as you pull his lips into another love-filled kiss, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips and your arms over his shoulders, pulling him deeper into you. You break from the kiss panting. “Cum in me,” you plea so softly you can barely hear it.

Remus’ hearing is strong enough to pick it up, and his rhythm falters for half a moment. “Really?” He asks, how close he is painfully evident on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

His carnal need resurfaces, hitting into you harder, and you cry out every time. “You want me to cum in you, huh?” He growls into your ear, but he’s so close it breaks into a groan. “You want me to fill you with my cum, baby?”

You nod vigorously, not being able to form any words with the intense feeling burning in your core. He captures you lips in a kiss as he stills, buried deep inside your cunt and coating your inner walls with his hot ropes, his hips involuntarily jerking as he does. You’re sensitiveness, his words, and the feeling of him and his cum filling you to the brim push you over the fourth edge, and you crying out as your body convulses under him so much you would’ve folded in on yourself if his body weight wasn’t keeping you flat on the mattress.

He collapses on top of you as both your bodies give their last few tremors, both of you panting and sweaty, hair sticking to your faces. His arm extends towards the side table, looking for his wand. “Fuck,” he mutters, and you hum in question to his exclamation. “Our wands are still in the living room,” he kisses you softly, but with so much love. “You know, with our clothes.”

You giggle against his lips before he pushes himself off of you and goes into the ensuite to grab you a washcloth. Your affectionate urge to always be around him awakens and sends you to the bathroom, but when you stand from the bed, pain shoots down your sore legs and your knees give out. You’re left to gravity to fall to the floor with a small squeal and a soft thud.

The door to the bathroom quickly opens as he looks for the cause of the sudden noise, finding you on the floor in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckles.

“Following you,” you blush and look down at the carpet. You’ve always tried to subside your natural clinginess in fear that it will annoy Remus.

You heel hands wrapping under your arms and you’re hoisted off the floor. “You’re my lost puppy, aren’t you?” He teases, making you giggle. A sound he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life, a sound he’s never planning on losing. He puts you down so your weak legs hand off the edge of the bed. “Would you wait here just a moment please, love?” He says, adoration filling his voice. He steps back into the bathroom and comes back with two washcloths, a warm on and a cold on. He uses the cold one first, wiping the sweat and left over make up off your face. A moment later you take the rag from him so you can wipe his sweaty forehead, too, but you gasp and whine in surprise as the warm cloth rubs between your legs. “I’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes and kisses you sweetly. You run your hands over his head, flattening his hair down as you kiss him back, never wanting to stop, and he finished cleaning the mess he had made of the two of you. “I’m going to take these and the other clothes to the laundry real quick, love,” he tells you before kissing your head and leaving the room.

You build all of your strength to get up and go to the closet in search of clean underwear for you both, stopping dead in your tracks when a poorly hidden velvet box in his drawer peaks at you from between the socks. You pick is up carefully and open the box, a ring perfect for you sat in the fold. You cup your hand over your mouth to hide any noise you might make, but your heart is in your throat as it bursts with love, and you couldn’t make a sound if you tried.

“Shit,” Remus curses behind you, having come back into the room silently. He rushes over to you and moves to take the box from your hands, but his hands stop, resting over yours as he looks at you staring at the ring, mesmerized. “You weren’t supposed to see that, yet,” he says and laughs softly, nervous of your reaction because your face is so blank, he can’t get a clue.

“Then… I’ll just pretend I didn’t,” you give him a small smile, but one that shows him your whole heart. You pull your hands back from his, leaving him to hold the box as you slip on your fresh panties and climb back into the bed. He looks to you, surprised you’re not questioning it, but your sat in the center of the bed with your arms held out to him and a goofy pout placed on your lips as your hands grab at the air.

He sighs happily, places the velvet box unhidden in his closet, and pulls on fresh boxers before climbing into your arms. Your fingers slide into his hair and scratch at his scalp as he lays his head on your belly.

After a moment of comfortable silence and his mind not settling, he lifts his head and looks up at you, seeing your eyes are closed. He calls your name softly. You hum, informing him you’re awake. Remus climbs further up the bed, laying on his side facing you to your left. His hand grazes your cheek as he pushes hair out of your face.

“I love you. I have never felt this much of one feeling before I met you. I’m so in love with you that it terrifies me, and I don’t know what to do. But you’ve changed me, you’ve made me a better man. I can’t imagine a future without you as my wife and with our kids running around. I never knew how to bring it up before,” he pauses a moment, trying to find the right words as he asks you the big question on a sudden limb. “I’ve just been to scared. I don’t know why, because you’ve never done anything but love and support me, and I couldn’t ask for better. I was with Sirius to find you the ring, and try to plan a romantic moment to ask you to marry me, I just didn’t want it to be so close to the full moon.”

You take a moment, considering everything he’s said and your chest swells with love and pride. “What about ‘James’?” You ask, being stuck on the one thing he said. When he pulls away from you completely and sits up, you open your eyes, startled. He’s looking at you with all the confusion in the world. “Oh my god!” You gasp. “That came out so wrong. I meant as a name! Merlin, the things you do to me — beyond amazing — exhaust me. I can’t speak correctly.” You let out a breathy laugh as you look for his reaction, a smile growing onto his face.

“You mean, like, a baby name?” He asks you.

You nod at him, smiling, and his shoulders relax as he lays next to you again.

“No, no,” he says after a moment. “I don’t want the product of my love for you to constantly remind me of my idiot best friend.”

“Okay, so ‘Sirius’ is also off the table,” you giggle.

“What about our parents names?” Remus asks as he turn to you, pulling you into him as his little spoon.

“So the product reminds us of our parents?”

He laughs at your rebuttal, and you smile. “Good point.” He presses his lips to your temple. “I guess we have time to figure it out.” He sighs in contempt as he buries his face in the back of your neck.

“For now,” you agree.

“So that’s a yes?” He picks his head up quickly to ask. “You’ll marry me?”

You turn in his arms, facing him and grabbing both his cheeks in your hands, purposely squishing his face a little. “Of course, you big oaf,” you laugh and kiss the love of your life.

#the wizarding world #wizarding world #Harry Potter #JK Rowling #the marauders #the marauders era #Marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #Remus Lupin x reader #Remus Lupin smut #moony #andrew garfield #Andrew Garfield remus lupin

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heterochromatic-herbalist · 2 years

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DWC Day 1: Chastity/Lust

"I am Anasuya Crimsontide, the second to the eldest child of six to a poor but loving family. Our situation wasn't always so dire, in the old days we produced a rare red pigment for dyes and such, and because of it, we were quite wealthy until Arthas led his invasion, leaving three-quarters of our lands destroyed.

Production of our one export suffered and our entire family was forced from a beautiful and spacious home into the barn that was repurposed into a makeshift house. I barely remember life before, I was young and the trauma of it all is enough for any mind to block out the memories.

I was taught to be humble, chaste, and obedient. To 'never forget my place in this world.' Personally, I think my parents put too much stock in the opinions of their "betters," if they are going to look down on you, they do not need a reason. They simply will, and that is none of my business.

Working what was left of our crop became a priority, each of my siblings and I learned to tend the plants and harvest, dry, and create the pigment. It wasn't until my adolescence that I began the work for a nearby textile company and hand dyeing bolts of fabric for their use. Day after day standing in the stream and running the fabric to set the dye, this task was our namesake but the production had stopped with our fall until this benefactor financed the reboot.

This is why my fingertips are stained red; forever a reminder of the life I come from. Eventually, I began to teach my younger siblings the skill, preparing to make my own life somehow.

In my spare time, I studied anything within reach about herbs and crystals, gathering and cataloging reagents and learning things like woodworking and whittling, knitting and sewing, and other handicrafts until I had a vast knowledge of my arts and inventory.

With the help of my father, I built my wagon by hand and loaded my entire stock, some personal items for comfort, a tent, and camping supplies, and set out into the world to carve out my place in it. to find who I am away from my family's rules."

After arriving in the Bazaar of Silvermoon City, Anasuya opened up her wagon and unveiled her sign, beaming a warm and welcoming smile to any who approached her, ready to assist in any way she could and already itching to see where she headed next.

@daily-writing-challenge

#Anasuya #Storyline #maydwc2022 #mayday12022

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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daddy issues - chapter xiv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this chapter’s coming to you unedited because I am honestly emotionally exhausted and the only reason I even got this done is because “playing” with these two makes me happy. So yeah, I’m officially stretching the story a bit more (next chapter is the one I’ve been referring to for a while) and after it we’ll be pretty close to the end!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Ransom had been a weird mixture of nervous and excited ever since he picked me up from work after visiting his grandfather. I knew they had a good relationship - from what I gathered, it was the only truly peaceful relationship he kept with his entire family - so I didn’t understand what the anxiety was about until he admitted, almost blurting out, “He asked me to visit the publishing house with him tomorrow.”

It was impossible to contain my smile. “That’s great, honey! He really does trust you, huh?” But Ransom didn’t even nod, just kept looking at me with eyes filled with a heavy emotion I couldn’t name, so I tried to occupy myself with other stuff.

“What time are you leaving? Do you want me to book a car to take me to university or will you still be able to give you a ride?” When he didn’t immediately answer me, I raised my gaze from the pile of essays in my hands to check on him, and the moment our eyes met, he seemed to snap out of whatever it was that was keeping him immobilized.

“No, I should be able to take you. Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t worried, but I knew Ransom enough by now to be aware that he wouldn’t relent, not wanting me to go to my workplace without him, so I just smiled.

“Okay, babe.” The petname escaped my lips so easily, I froze when my own ears processed it, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Ransom’s frame paralyzed where I had left him, so I just focused on my work and pretended like nothing different had happened.

“I should be up in a minute.” I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. I didn’t look at him again, but I saw him nod from my peripheral vision before turning around and leaving towards the staircase, allowing me to breathe deeply again. What the hell was going on with me?

Ransom’s P.O.V.

She never came to bed when she did decide to call it a night. Well, she did stop by my bedroom, but chose to remain by the threshold until I caught sight of her figure, and when our eyes met, she smiled and wished me a good night.

I sighed when I realized that I was going to have to sleep alone. I didn’t like that, I didn’t want it. But there was nothing I could really do about it. She wasn’t my girlfriend, she was just the mother of my baby. At least to her own eyes.

Having her so close and then seeing her pull away was tearing at my heart, which is why when I got up in the morning to find her in the kitchen, breakfast already made while a packet waited next to my plate, I felt like I would physically melt.

“What is this?” I asked, already reaching out for it. I opened and checked to find a few sandwiches - homemade - before she could confirm what my eyes were seeing, but I was still struggling to process.

“I-I fixed you a lunch bag. I don’t know how long it’s going to be with your grandpa, didn’t want you to starve.” I just stared at her, unblinking, while this warm feeling spread over my chest, even turning me on.

Because I understood what this was. I understood what she meant by this. This was her, recognizing she had taken two steps back yesterday, and compensating with a gesture that moved us even closer to where I hoped to take us.

My heartbeat picked up at the realization that she did want something more. She did, she just needed time to adjust. And I could give her that - I could keep giving her that, just as long as we kept moving forward.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it.” I’d taken too long to answer, she had approached me quickly to snatch the bag from my grasp. “It’s stupid anyway.” I stopped her, both hands on her waist before she could fully turn around.

“No, give me it!” I know it sounded whiney, but I didn’t want to risk being without my lunch bag. Once it was in the safety of my hands, I put it to the side for just enough time to cradle her face and force her to take in what I had to say. “Don’t you ever say anything you did for me is stupid. I’m not used to having people do things for me because they thing I’d like or need them. This means everything to me.”

The soft smile she gave me, the way her eyes looked up at me from under her eyelashes had me feeling like I was on a rollercoaster and the fall had just begun. I suppose, in many ways, it already had.

The little gesture didn’t leave my mind the entire day. I caught myself smiling at nothing, becoming easily distracted while Harlan tried to explain something about the presses to me, but every time I ran a hand over my face and apologized, he just gave me a knowing smile.

I didn’t even feel embarrassed about it. I was almost proud, really. I had spent an entire life having to pay for what I needed - and I did it, unashamedly so. And now there was this incredible woman who wanted to take care of me. I could barely believe it.

I couldn’t believe that this woman that I didn’t even know a few months ago was now everything I thought of, everything I wanted in life.

Everything was going well, too well. I should have known it was only a matter of time until something ruined it.

I first noticed it because Harlan’s face suddenly fell when he raised his gaze to meet mine, instead settling on something over my shoulder. When I turned around, I quickly understood why.

It was my mom, and by the way she marched in our direction, she clearly wasn’t here to do anything cheerful.

“Was I supposed to know about you having a baby through my own father?” I cringed, even visibly flinched at the knowledge that she now knew about my kid. “Have you no respect for your mother?”

My snicker said everything she needed to know, and when she raised a finger to shake it on my face, it took Harlan to control us both. “Okay, alright, that’s it. This is still my place of work, an extension of my house, I won’t have you two disrespecting it’s sanctity.”

I huffed, adjusting my coat as I turned my back on her to focus on my grandfather again. He was the reason why I was there, and the only reason why I didn’t just leave upon seeing my mother.

“Now, Linda, if Ransom didn’t tell you about something this important in his life, there must be a reason for it. What do you think it is?” My mother turned her face from her own father, seeming particularly interested on her own high heel shoes now. We both knew she wouldn’t relent, so with a sigh, Harlan met my eyes, silently asking me to be the bigger person here - I knew.

“How about this, I’ve been meaning to have you all for dinner for a while, it’s been a long time since the family gathered for anything other than a holiday. Is Friday good for both of you? You can bring the girl, if you want.” That last part was directed to me specifically, making my eyes widen. I could only imagine what she would say if I suggested a family dinner with my entire family, especially considering everything I had told her about them - and why I wasn’t excited to tell them about the baby in the slightest.

“I’ll see, but she might be busy.” My mother snickered, making me narrow my eyes at her, thinking about a very important reassurance I needed to get before I even considering attending that dinner. “If I do end up bringing her, I don’t want to see any of you all treating her as anything less than a princess, is that understood?”

Of course, Harlan knew I was speaking more to my mother than to him, and that I expected the message to be extended to the rest of the family before Friday rolled around, but seeing as my mother was still brushing her already perfectly clean skirt, he was the one to answer.

“Of course, Ransom. We’re all excited to meet her, she’s a welcome guest in my house.” The warning was there for the both of us. And even though it was my mother that would need to keep that in mind, I already knew I was the one who would end up leaving the only place outside my house where I felt safe because as long as she was there, there was no way I’d feel okay.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale writings #ransom drysdale series

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free-falling-grenade · 3 years

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Imagine Raya being all cocky once she accepts her feelings for Namaari, they are walking down the palace in Fang and raya goes "i will fight anyone and everyone for your love" or something like that, and Virana is nearby and says "I accept the challenge" and both girls are like :o *insert pikachu meme here *

HA. Omg, Virana totally would accept the challenge. AAA Here’s a mini ficlet for it: “I accept the challenge”

Raya blinks owlishly at the Chief before leaning in to ask Namaari if her mother is secretly a skilled warrior. But she herself doesn't actually know how well the Chief of Fang can fight. Never given the opportunity to see, so when she says that she accepts Raya's challenge, she's quite taken aback.

Namaari just stares wide eyed and shrugs because she can't tell if her mother was just joking or if she was serious, her expression too neutral to guess.

Raya stands there almost faltering from the Chief's challenging stare but she shakes away her fear and nervously nods, "So be it"

Namaari just turns to her utterly shocked, because she can't be serious right now.

They're right outside the throne room, at the bottom of the steps. Fang soldiers and merchants alike have gathered to watch out of curiosity after overhearing the challenge.

Virana just steps forward, and casually asks for the spear General Atitaya is holding. She hands it to her in a daze, not quite sure if the Chief will pull through. She fears for her well being. She knows how well Raya is with her fighting skills, having had the opportunity to witness Namaari's and her spars, and being offered to spar against her as well.

Raya draws out her kris slowly, stepping forward herself, a few feet distance between her and the Chief. She gulps thickly, "Okay. We're actually doing this. Cool, cool." She mostly says to herself.

Virana just raises an eyebrow smirking, "Don't tell me you are backing out, Princess Raya." She taunts as she weighs Atitaya's spear in her hands, flipping it around seamlessly.

Raya just scoffs a little offended, "I never back out from a challenge, Chief Virana. Especially not when it's for Namaari's hand"

Meanwhile the Fang princess stands there glued to the floor, the crowd staring at her, some expecting her to stop the two before literal blood is shed. But the problem is, Namaari knows three of the most stubborn people in her life: one of which is herself, and the other two? The ladies in front of her seemingly ready to cut each others throats out. There is literally no stopping them once their mind is made.

She runs a hand through her hair, keeping it in place as she watches Raya and her mother, who she still has no knowledge of how well her fighting skills are, position themselves into a fighting stance.

In any other day, Namaari would laugh at the comical idea of it all, her mother in her signature white dress, and Raya in way too formal clothing to be comfortable in a fight.

"Just a warning, Chief. I don't plan on holding back" Raya warns, if she's going to this, might as well not let her guard down.

Virana just grins, "I didn't expect you to" she says then charges, skipping the pleasantries. Her dress limiting her steps a little but enough for her to move around smoothly.

Raya, caught of guard, hastily blocks the spear coming at her face. She huffs away her shock, a playful grin coming to her face at the realization that this is definitely not a game. It's indeed a legit challenge the Chief had agreed to and she will treat it as such.

She swings her own blade towards the Chief, her mind consciously pulling back her strength, afraid she might hurt the princess' mother. However, Virana seems to sense this, using it to her advantage to nick the skin on her shoulder. This elicited a loud gasp around them.

Raya backflips away, glancing down at the cut. She looks up at the Fang Chief's face who wore a smug look, "I thought you said you weren't going to hold back?"

The Heart princess can't help the amusement to show on her lips, she now understands where Namaari's infuriating taunts came from.

Instead of replying, she charges with complete intention to hurt, not caring that she is facing the Chief of Fang anymore. She swings aggressively leaving no space for the older woman to strike. She sees her struggling, her dress limiting her movements as she backs away trying to block each of her powerful strikes.

Raya for a second thought to give her a break, so she swiftly pulls the leg under the dress with her own, tripping her backwards. She lands on her back with a loud thud, her white dress now soiled and damaged.

She doesn't notice Atitaya holding back some of the Fang soldiers who were about to step in and help their Chief. Namaari who's rendered speechless stood ramrod stiff. The crowd wore wary expressions watching their beloved Chief on the floor.

Raya turns away for a second to catch her lover’s gaze but she regrets it almost immediately hearing the shuffle from in front her. She fails to react fast enough, feeling the long metal spear swiftly hitting the back of her knees knocking her off balance then the edge of it meeting her stomach.

She huffs out in pain, mustering the energy to roll away quickly when the spear lifts again to hit her.

She doesn’t get time to spit out a witty retort when the Chief starts swinging at her with surprising precision and tentative strikes. The hits as powerful as Raya's previous swipes earlier. She blocks them effortlessly though, looking for a way to knock her out again but the speed is seemingly too distracting to even think of a way.

She grunts in frustration, deciding to put a physical distance between them instead as she uses the Chief's leg that's pushed forward to step on her thighs and jump over the tall woman. She uses the distraction to step back a little, recollecting herself.

She breathes out to calm her thoughts, risking another glance at the other princess who stood way too dazed and in shock to even glance at her back. She huffs out an amused laugh at her face. The Chief charges at her noticing the distracted moment, the end of her spear managing to graze the side of her cheek. She hisses out in pain.

She slides down dodging her next swing but as if predicted, the older woman's knee collides with her face harshly. She sees white spots temporarily as she falls on her knees disoriented. She feels the sharp edge of the spear by her neck.

"Do you yield, Princess of Heart?" She hears the Chief say sounding a bit too winded.

Raya takes in a deep shaky breath, her eyes closing. She exhales out with a grin, "Never."

She doesn't let the older woman react before reaching out and pulling her spear forward, letting it slice the surface of her neck lightly. She uses the close distance to throw a dirty punch on the Chief's midsection. She inwardly cringed at that, her mind still hoping she didn't hurt her too much. But her body reacting by itself, stood up to kick the bent over Chief that sent her skidding backwards.

She waits for a few more seconds to see if the woman would stand again but when she remained on the floor coughing, she walks over pointing down her sword at her opponent's throat.

"Do you yield, Chief of Fang?" Her tone surprisingly serious as Virana stares back at the Princess' determined eyes.

She lets the silence lapse between them, the hushed whispers of the crowd barely audible as she tries to find any ill intent and malice in the young girl's eyes. However, she sees nothing but love and devotion.

A tender smile graces Virana's lips, her arms lifting up in surrender, "I yield, Princess. You win"

She hears Raya's sharp intake of breath before seeing her sword clatter beside them and bending down to pull her up into an embrace. The crowd around them breaks into an applause, clearly entertained from the intense fight.

She grunts in pain at the bone crushing hug the Princess has her in, "You have my blessing, sunlight. But if you could let me breathe, that would be great" she manages to murmur out.

Raya pulls back instantly, an apologetic look on her face. There are tears that brimmed her eyes, "I'm sorry"

"I'll be fine. You left this old lady pretty bruised but you are quite a fighter, Princess."

Raya bashfully grins, "You left me some pretty nice cuts too. But, who knew the Chief of Fang has hidden skills up her sleeve" “I’m no damsel in distress, Princess Raya. I am a well capable Chief” Virana states half heartedly.

Raya snickers lightly, not doubting it for a second. She stands up offering a hand for the older woman to take. She willingly accepts, pulling herself upright. She staggers back a little but the feeling of strong arms catches her quick.

Namaari stands behind her mother supporting her. She shakes her head vigorously, a smile of disbelief tugging on her lips, "You both are actually insane and out of your minds"

Raya smiles softly, "Just for you, dep la"

Virana nods in agreement then latches on to her daughter's hold, visibly exhausted. Raya lifts the older woman's other arm behind her neck to support her other side.

"Let's get you to the healers"

They help the beat up Chief walk, the merchants and guards bowing in respect as they passed, all of them beaming with pride and joy as if she had won the fight.

"You definitely gave them something to write for Kumandra's history books" Namaari comments eliciting a genuine laugh from the older Chief.

"The only time I don't mind being defeated" Virana tenderly says. The two lovers on each of her side supporting her. She really doesn't mind another daughter in the family. -x- This got so long omg. Thank you, anon? Also you can’t possibly tell me Virana doesn’t know how to fight. I doubt she’s all bark and no bite. That woman is hiding her skills coz she doesn’t wanna get her dirty. Should i post this on ao3 or just leave it here LOL

#uhhh this turned longer than i thought #OOPS #well have a ficlet i guess?#rayaari #rayaari fanfic #raya #namaari #chief virana #raya and the last dragon

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gryffindors-weasley · 4 years

Text

Promises

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: After you have an unpleasant encounter with Lucius Malfoy, it leaves Draco in fear of losing you. Though he can’t seem to keep himself from you.

Requested by @kiiramalfoy : “i would like to order something with Draco where the reader is Slytherin, and they date, and Draco’s father hurts the reader, and Draco cries a lot for fear of losing her.”

Warnings: mentions of injury, scars, anxiety, fluff

A/N: Thank you for the lovely request!

You exhaled a quiet sigh, one of many that afternoon though the sun was beginning to dip lower into the sky and turn over to evening. It’s golden rays still cast its beauty, however, coloring everything it had landed on in varying hues of a warm orange the more time that goes by. It had always been your favorite time of day for that very reason, that and it was when you could spend most of your time with Draco.

His midnight black blazer had long since been discarded in a crumpled heap in the grass next to you, the top two buttons of its matching dresshirt undone and its corresponding tie loosened around his neck. The light breeze caused a ripple in the water of the Black Lake, the edge not more than a few feet from where the two of you resided against the same old tree you claimed as your own.

This very location was one the two of you had claimed as a whole for that matter, a place that was secluded and nearly unfrequented by most. Despite that fact, Draco had always felt he’d been a target for prying eyes as of late, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself away from you for very long. He’d tried. He’d tried so hard to withdraw himself and keep you away, if only to keep you safe was his reasoning. But his reasoning quickly became overshadowed by his desperate need to be near you, to be with you. So he broke the promise he made to himself not long after it was made.

He lay in the grass with his head in your lap while you sat there, tucked comfortably between the thick roots of the familiar old oak tree. Unseen grass stains litter his black slacks but he couldn’t bring himself to care about such trivial things, instead focusing on the warmth of the sun on his skin or the sweet smell of your perfume wafting his way every time the wind blew. A few stray stars had begun to twinkle directly above the two of you as evening slowly crept in, lightning bugs flickering like glowing yellow dots along the waters edge as they flutter aimlessly through taller blades of grass.

Your hand had been absentmindedly running through his hair as you read a new book, making sure to miss the few sections where a wildflower or two was carefully woven into it. They offered a burst of color in contrast to the iciness of his hair. It took everything in him not to fall asleep at the comforting feeling, because he wanted to take in every single second he had with you in fear that there wouldn’t be more. Though sometimes the task of staying awake wasn’t very difficult when his hair pokes in his eyes or you gasp upon reading something surprising in your book, your hand pausing its movement right over top of his face. Still, he wouldn’t trade these moments for the world.

“Are you going to talk to me, Love?” He asks softly, peeking one eye open to look at you.

“After this chapter, Draco,” you say, though you weren’t entirely sure what he’d said, your eyes focused on the tattered pages as you run your hand down his cheek gently.

“You’ve said that three chapters ago,” he huffs, though he isn’t truly angry.

He sits up quickly, the sudden movement causing the delicate petals once tucked in his hair to tumble lightly to the ground like feathers. You laugh down at your book and shake your head, turning to the next page. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, another to your jaw, smiling softly when he sees the pink blush beginning to appear on your skin. However, your attention doesn’t seem to falter from the pages you read from, so he kisses your cheek once more before settling his head on your shoulder with a sigh.

His smile widens a fraction when he feels you rest your head on his though, the small action appeasing his need for your attention momentarily. He takes in his surroundings, the reflection of the pointed rooftops of the castle not too far away, rippled and distorted on the lake. The puffy clouds colored with pinks and oranges and yellows, and the grass swaying gently in the breeze. Yet with all the beauty set out right in front of him, it all paled in comparison to you. And surely someone had to have been wondering where the two of you had been all day, but that wasn’t of any importance to him.

Truthfully, he’d abandon any and all things just to be with you.

His attention is soon focused on your hand, more-so the scar that rests atop it. His fingers brush over the pale scarlet splotch on the back of your hand, one that blossoms slightly further up your arm. One that he’s cast numerous Episkey spells on, and several healing potions gathered from Madam Pomfrey. But not even his rather vast knowledge on healing could permanently fix it. He doesn’t think it makes you any less radiant, never, but he remains horrified by the means of how it’d been put there. His very own father. The thought still taunts him with each day that passes and he fears it might never go away.

7 Months Ago

You walked through Diagon Alley in search of the few items left on your list in preparation for your seventh year. It wasn’t as extensive nor did it feel as important, but you still wanted to go. The pathways were crowded with excited young students experiencing this place for the first time. Though you weren’t as worried this time around because you had taken this trip by yourself now that you had been old enough to.

You were startled by the firm grip placed heavily upon your shoulder, your gaze quickly and dreadfully meeting icy blue eyes when you look to your left.

“Mind if I have a word?” Lucius asks, his smile far from friendly.

Of course he knew you’d be there, and you were starting to regret coming here alone.

You swallow thickly, though you remain calm as you try and control the spike in your heart rate. You barely have the time to give a nod in response before he veers off into an unfrequented alleyway, the sneer on his face now completely gone in favor of a more hardened expression.

“Do you think I am blind to what you have been doing?”

Your eyebrows knit together in faux confusion. “Blind to what?”

His jaw clenched at your apparently clueless words and he took a step closer. His stare was intense as he seemingly towered over you, as if he was reaching into the very depths of your soul to pull out whatever secrets you may have been keeping. Ones you fought desperately for him to be unaware of. “Whatever it is you think you have with my son must come to an end.”

Your heart had froze in your chest at the statement, and you clench your fists at your sides to keep your trembling hands from becoming obvious to the man in front of you. “I don’t believe I know what you’re talking about, Mr. Malfoy.”

He laughs bitterly, his eyes scanning your expression as if he could detect the very fact that you were lying. You took a step back from him. “You are merely a distraction and nothing more, you would only bring disgrace to the contuation of the Malfoy name and you know it. You’ve already brought shame to yourself.”

You try not to let his words have any affect on you, though the task is proving to be far more difficult than expected as stinging tears press just behind your eyes. But still, you were becoming angry at his taunting words as he tried to antagonize you. “How so?”

You’re startled by his sudden grip on your wrist, and he tugs it up to eye level. “You might have the purest magic running through your veins, but that does not make you worthy of anything at all. You and your family’s infamy and regrettable choice to defy the Sacred 28 have no place here, you don’t belong,” He says, teeth gritting, “Either you listen to my words now or I’ll just have to do something about it. Won’t I?”

You flinch at his harsh words as you try and pull yourself from his grasp. It only tightens, unrelenting as his nails dig into your skin and you suppressed the urge to cry out. However, it still hadn’t stopped you from speaking your mind.

“Regrettable? My families morals and their ability to defy your terrible ideals and not frown upon individuals you deem to be less than you is not regrettable. At least my family knows what love and kindness is,” you quip, narrowing your eyes up at him.

You watch the anger twist his face into a threatening glare, the pressure on your wrist almost becoming too much to bear. It felt as though it’d snap in two if it got any tighter and you couldn’t suppress your tears as one rolls down your flushed cheek.

“What are you doing?” A voice sounds behind you.

You glance over your shoulder to find Draco, having difficulty masking his surge of emotions as he catches sight of the tears lining your eyes. Then his eyes bounce to his fathers face, furious and so full of venom he couldn’t bring himself hold his stare. Then his eyes landed on your arm.

His worst nightmares seemed to have been coming true right before his very eyes, and he mulled over his next actions quickly. If he protects you from his father, it’d confirm the relationship the two of you held in secret and he would more than likely lose you. If he doesn’t, he’d singlehandedly destroy your trust and lose you that way. The thought made him sick to his stomach and his head spun with worry as he made up his mind.

“Relashio!” Draco utters, his fathers grip on you faltering. You tug your arm away and rush to his side, though your attempt isn’t all too easy.

A searing pain scorches the back of your hand, the sensation traveling up the top of your wrist as you recoil your hand to your chest and peer out from behind Draco. The flames extinguish from the wand in Lucius’ hand just as quickly as they appeared, the very flames that kissed your skin in his spiteful attempt to hurt you. To scare his son with the consequences of his love for you. The horror was apparent on Draco’s face as he drops his wand, looking at his father through glossy eyes.

“Draco, you’re doing it again,” you sigh quietly, marking your page before closing your book and setting it aside for the first time since you’ve been out there.

“Doing what, darling?”

“You’re thinking about it again. You’ve got that look you always have when you do,” you say, knowing he’d try and convince you otherwise. “I know that look.”

His thumb brushes ever so gently against your hand despite the tension in his jaw as it clenches. He closes his eyes and takes a breath to steady his emotions. “Sorry.”

You sigh lightly and press a chaste kiss to the corner of his jaw, lingering there for a few moments before you spoke up softly. “I’ve dealt with worse, you know.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He asks, more so a scoff, the idea of you experiencing anything worse than that moment making his stomach churn and twist in knots. He turns to look at you with furrowed brows and a slight frown, though you remain positive.

“Ideally yes,” you say with a soft laugh, one that makes his heart flutter in his chest as you take his hand in yours, “though I take it it’s not working.”

He’s quiet after that, frustration simmering in his stomach as he tries to control his temper for your sake. His gaze shifts to the sky above him once more as he rests his head back on the crumbling bark of the decades old tree. It’s not his fault, not entirely and he knows that. You knew that. It was his fathers doing and if he had been there sooner he wouldn’t have let it happen. You knew he’d protect you, right?

He could only hope that you knew he’d endure a lifetime of pain just so you never had to experience a single drop ever again. It was risky of him to defy the promise he made to his father, never to see you again. It was a deal he’d made before storming back to his room in a bout of angry tears that persisted for the entirety of the night. He doesn’t believe he’d cried over anything at all quite like this. But you’ve etched yourself in every part of him so much so it’s made it impossible to deny the profound love he feels for you. He could only last three weeks without you once your final school year had started again, barely that, his lingering stares only increasing his longing for you until he cracked.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of you twisting the ring around his finger, the cold silver band sending a shiver up his arm. It’s a habit you’ve picked up, he hadn’t been sure of where it came from, but you did it. Much like the way you often button and unbutton the cuffs of his dress shirts; he can’t remember how many he’s had to replace because they eventually fall off.

Regardless, he doesn’t mind the habit, but the very ring you’re playing with is one he’s grown to dislike considerably. The swirling metallic snake only reminds him of his father, his family, and the mistakes he’s made up to this point. Most notably, what it’s put you through. He’ll get another ring for you to twirl, but he cannot bear wearing this one a moment longer.

He slips it off his finger and stands to his feet abruptly, walking over to the waters edge.

“What are you doing?” You ask curiously, getting up and wandering to his side. You watch as he examines the ring, running his thumb over the silver snake curling across the front.

He lifts his hand and throws the ring, watching as it bounces once across the shimmering water before disappearing with a small splash. His lip curled up in anger as he grabbed his tie, hastily plucking the matching house pin from the black fabric and throwing it with more vigor. It goes farther than the last, though the action does very little to release the animosity towards his father.

“Draco stop,” you say, grabbing his arm and turning him to face you. It wasn’t until the water calmed again that he looked at you again. His chest heaved slightly, cheeks tinged a soft pink as he stares down at you.

Tears line his eyes as he stands before you. “I don’t want to stop. I want to rid myself of everything that has to do with this place.”

“Would you just calm down? For me?” You ask quietly, offering a patient smile as you grabbed his hands gingerly. “Being angry and upset isn’t making matters any better, Draco. You’re only souring your mood.”

You reach up and wipe a frustrated tear before it could fully roll down his flushed cheek, your thumb tracing over it in a way that set him at ease almost immediately. He closes his eyes as he finds himself leaning into your touch, trying to focus on the warmth of your hand on his skin rather than the anger pressing insistently within his chest.

You have a way of doing that, he realizes. He feels you could take any situation, no matter how miserable, and make it brighter. You could take his sorrows and change them to utter happiness. Perhaps that’s why he was so attached to you. You’d always be there to keep him from sinking, it didn’t take much effort on your end. He could get through anything if you were there to pull him through it.

“How are you so care free? About all this?” He asks once he’s calmed down a bit, both intrigued and envious as he brushes your hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers trace down your neck, grasping the green tie dangling from it softly as he sighs, his hand running down your arm until it envelops your own tenderly.

You smile up at him, the contours of his face becoming more apparent the lower the sun sets in the sky. “I’ve spent the entirety of my life under scrutiny for my family’s choice one way or another,” you start, brushing the blonde strand away that dipped in his eyes. “It grows tiring after a while, and you learn to tune it out.”

His crease between his brows deepens slightly as you wrap your arms around his neck, his arms quick to hold you close to him with the intention of keeping you there for a long while.

“Words only hurt you if you allow them to, Draco. It’s not always going to be easy, but it’s true,” you say, reaching up to smooth the worry between his dark brows before your hand slides down to rest on his chest, the other tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m scared for the future, I think we all are. But I want to focus on what’s here right now. With you.”

A soft smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, another to your jaw, and perhaps the softest just below your ear. Your perfume was sweet and enchanting as it flooded his senses and left him lingering there for a few fleeting moments, his remaining anger subsiding completely.

“Tell me we’ll be okay,” he asks, barely just above a whisper. His reluctantly pulls away from the crook of your neck, pale blue eyes bouncing around every inch of your face in search of doubt.

You smile sweetly at him, gaze flickering up to his eyes before you lean on your toes and press your lips on his, gentle yet firm as your hands settle on his cheeks. Any traces of tension he had left dissolves in that very moment, his arms caging you tightly against him as your shirt crinkles under his grip. It’s as if nothing else mattered, and to him nothing ever mattered more than you. When you parted, he chased after your lips for another kiss, soft yet full of love as he smiled softly.

“We’ll be okay.”

—

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #harry potter fic

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