#we’ll take your first draft and slap it in with our eyes closed

[j-esbian]

i was just talking about this the other day so maybe that’s why it’s so obvious but tbh it’s always at the top of my mind. it is so frustrating that some books don’t even feel like they’re read over a single time before they get published

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Double booking

Word count: 3934

You just want a night in peace at the hotel, after travelling for hours, but alas, it's not to be. Inspired by a dream I had a while ago, though that was not as coherent or logical by any means.

Obligatory English is not my first language.

Please let me know what you think.

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The bed is soft as a cloud and you crawl under the blanket with a satisfied sight. The chill of the luxury fabric feels divine against your weary body, and you pull our tee off to get the full experience. Goosebumps erupt over your back, and you wiggle down into the mattress. Letting out another sigh that morphs into a yawn, you close your eyes. After hours on the road, a good night's sleep will do wonders.

You turn for a bit, trying to find the ultimate sleeping position, settling for a half side, half stomach that provide that sweet, sweet relief for your achy back. With your free hand, you pull a corner of the blanket between your thighs, longing for the extra soft pillow you have at home, but that you just couldn't be bothered to bring with you. At least this way you won't chafe.

The linen caresses your bare skin, the cool of the newly made bed pulling you closer to dreamland, and then you're drifting off into the vast nothingness.

What feels like only seconds later, you wake with a start, from the lights turning on. Fumbling for your glasses and feeling your heart in your throat, your brain scrambles to make sense of what's happening. Is the fire alarm ringing? No.

Once the glasses are comfortably on, you glance around, only to notice a man standing in front of the wardrobe, mouth half open and a bag slipping from his shoulder. He's tall and menacing looking, and he's wearing gloves and a leather jacket, and you let out a strangled scream as you tumble off the bed, knocking the book from the nightstand and trying to wrap the thin blanket around yourself with trembling hands.

The fabric feels way too flimsy now, letting the draft from the open door wash over your body. There are goosebumps again, but this time they're not pleasant at all, and they wave back and forth over your scalp, making your ears buzz. You're painfully aware that the blanket is the only thing between your skin and the open air, and you pull it even closer as you back into the window wall and pull your knees up in front of you.

Your heart pounds like a bass drum, and you're pretty sure the stranger can hear it across the room. He still hasn't moved, and without conscious thought, you scan the room for an exit. But this is the fifth floor, and there's only one door that doesn't require you to go past him, and that leads to the neighbouring room. Not that it is, in any way, shape, or form, possible to get that far in your current condition.

Your breathing speeds up, and you crouch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The coarse curtain prickles against your shoulders.

The stranger looks between you and the white key card on his hand, his mouth trying to speak, but managing no sound. Finally, after what feels like years, he looks away and stammers. "Sorry. Sorry. I must have gone to the wrong door." His neck has turned a deep shade of crimson, and he hunches his shoulders a bit, like he's trying to make himself smaller too. "I… uh, sorry." He picks up his bag and disappears through the door, closing it firmly behind him.

On the floor, you're barely aware that he spoke; the shock has practically paralysed you. It's not until the door smacks shut you manage to move again. Slowly, fighting the galloping heart and breathing, you get up and sit down on the edge of the bed. It's no longer tempting to crawl under the covers, and you don't have the courage to cross the room to put the security chain in place just yet. The encounter has spooked you so much, adrenaline is coursing through your body.

"I need a drink!" you mutter, voice croaking and airy at the same time, and pull on the discarded shirt. There's no chance of sleep for a while. That much is clear! "Idiot!" You berate yourself, mentally slapping the back of your own head for forgetting to fasten the chain, but you had been so busy worrying about the twin door that it completely slipped your mind.

The selection in the mini fridge is limited, but at least there's a couple of bottles of cola, and a small vodka. After mixing them, you down half the glass in one go, and the burn of the alcohol on your tongue makes your face scrunch, but you immediately relax a bit, and your thoughts clear somewhat. What the hell just happened? This is supposed to be a good hotel. Not very fancy, but better than the bug infested dumps you usually have to stay in.

You make a mental note to talk to the management. Tomorrow. Right now you're to riled up. Nothing good will come of it. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and focus on the buzzing in your ears. Slowly it fades until your hearing is back to normal, but there is no getting rid of the uncomfortable sting in your shoulders, or the occasional THUMP-THUMP in your chest.

As you finish your drink – you've almost decided on a second one to keep you company while you read for a bit – there's a sharp knock at the door. That makes you jump and spill the remains of your glass down your front. That doesn't register, though, because the door opens again, without waiting for a reply. You groan at yourself for once again not fastening the safety chain.

A stern looking woman enter, followed by the stranger, who, you notice, looks almost ashamed. "You're in this gentleman's room." It's a statement, but she might as well have yelled why are you here, you creep?

"Um, what?" You desperately try to jump-start your brain; this is definitely enough excitement for one night. After all, it is past midnight, and by all means you should be sleeping now.

"This is not your room," the woman says, in a voice that shows clearly what she thinks of you.

A frown appears on the man's face, and you squint between them. "What, yes it is." Your voice is breathy, and with a sigh through your nose, you grab the folder on the desk and pull out the papers from the check-in. "See, here? This is my name, that's the room number –" Suddenly your stomach plummets. What if you are in the wrong room? But the key card worked… A glance at the still open door – no, right room. You let out a small breath.

The woman grabs the papers and studies them, while holding out her hand to the man, wiggling her fingers when he doesn't respond. He fumbles with his bag and produces a set of identical papers. She compares the two, the furrow between her eyes deepening every second.

Finally she looks up. "My apologies. It appears there's been a misunderstanding," she says, her voice a lot softer than earlier, tired. She turns to the man behind her. "The room has been double booked or something."

That much is obvious. He nods. "Yes. Will you find me another room, please." He speaks softly too, and the panic that threatened to overcome you earlier subsides a little. He is just another weary traveller – of course he isn't here to hurt you. That thought seems quite silly now, or maybe that's the drink talking.

"Sorry," the lady says flatly. "There are no vacancies." She winces slightly, as if she prepares to be yelled at.

His shoulders slump, and he lets out a small groan, looking at you, then at her. "But…"

You smile apologetically and take another sip of your drink. It is empty, and you grimace from the embarrassment.

"However," the woman says after a pause, visibly relieved that neither of you seems to be the shouting types, "since it's so late, and you probably won't find a room anywhere else tonight, what with the festival and everything, I can probably set up something in the lobby. We have a few partition walls and –"

He scrunches his eyes shut and grimaces, and you feel sorry for him. He is a stranger, and you were in the room first, but it's not his fault that the hotel screwed up. Sleeping in the lobby is not an alternative. Your mother raised you better than that.

"Wait," you interrupt her, and they both turn to look at you. This is probably a bad idea, but the man looks nice enough now that the shock has diminished. His eyes are kind and tired and though he holds himself with authority, he keeps a respectable distance from both you and the other woman.

Gesturing to the unused bed next to yours, you try a smile and sigh when you feel it's just a grimace. "If… if it's okay with you, it is with me. You can have that bed tonight. And then we'll sort it out in the morning."

The woman's face relaxes, and you wonder how many rules she offered to break to keep you happy. The man frowns, as if he doesn't quite understand what you're offering. Maybe he doesn't, maybe he doesn't speak English very well. Then he gives you a flat smile. "You sure?"

Are you? "Yes," you answer, not at all sure, but it's too late to change your mind now.

"Well then, I bid you both a good night, and I'll leave a note for the morning staff, Mr Barnes." The woman leaves the room and shuts the door with a soft click.

"Y/N." You nod, hoping you look relatively normal, though you feel everything but, with your glasses askew on your nose, a tattered t-shirt and no bottoms. Awesome. At least the shirt is long enough to cover your butt.

The man remains by the door, looking forlorn and confused. "Bucky." He looks everywhere but directly at you, and for that you're grateful.

"Please," you say with a small nod, gesturing to the bed and the light switch on the wall beside him. "I'm really tired…"

Carefully you get back into bed and tucks the blanket tight around yourself, feeling a bit dizzy from what just happened. But you are really too tired to care at the moment, and the soft pillows are screaming your name.

Turning over on your side, with your back against the windows, you pointedly yawn and close your eyes to give the stranger some privacy. Seconds later you hear the soft thump of a duffel bag hitting the carpet, and a small click. Then the bathroom door opens and the man shuffles in.

As the door shuts, you dare to open your eyes again. He's switched off the light, but there's a small sliver leaking under the door, and you see shadows move over the floor. There is something soothing about the noises of running water and the clacks of his belongings on the marble countertop, and it suddenly occurs to you how much you miss travelling withsomeone.

Once he's done and the bathroom door opens, you close your eyes again. The bed creaks under his weight, and the sheets rustle as he gets in. Something heavy hits the headboard, but not long after, he settles.

You sneak a peek through half-open eyes. The man is handsome. Sharp, but gentle features, a calm face, but he's lying on his back, stiff as if he's unused to the luxuries of a bed. His arms are on top of the blanket, and in your sleepiness you wonder why he's keeping his gloves on when he's sleeping.

"Good night," you offer gently, before sighing and pulling the blanket over your ears. The warmth and muted sounds give you a sense of safety, though it is minimal.

"Good night," he replies. "And thank you."

You wake up earlier than usual. The red numbers on the alarm clock blinks 06.38. Something feels off in the room, and for a fraction on a second you feel panic rise in your chest, but then you remember the night's events. The panic fades into a vague discomfort, and you grab your glasses. The man, his name is Bucky, hadn't he said so, is still sleeping, his gloved hand under the pillow and one foot dangling over the edge of the bed. It's kinda adorable.

As quietly as you can, you get out of bed and tip-toe to the bathroom, collecting your clothes on the way. You quickly change and put on contacts, leaving the glasses by the sink, not really daring to take a shower with the stranger in the room next to you. Instead, you splash water in your face and drag a brush through your hair, and with a short glance in the mirror, you deem yourself presentable.

Careful to bring your wallet and your key card, you exit the room and walk briskly to the elevator. The trip down to the lobby only take half a minute, but it feels like an eternity, and once you step out of the door, you're met with a buzz of voices from the lobby. Oh, yeah, the festival.

Luckily there's not much of a queue. Most people are on their way out, or to breakfast. The staff are too happy and smiling for it to be this early, and they're chatting and laughing with the guests, pointing their way to the restaurant or showing places of interest on the map on the counter.

"Good morning, what can I do for you?" one of the receptionists chirp.

You wince internally and focus on bringing a neutral expression to your face. It's not easy, as you'd rather be back in bed. "Yes, uh, I don't know if the night employee let you know, but there was a mix-up with my room last night."

The receptionist frowns, then smiles apologetically. "Ah, yes. There's a note here. Room 508, right?"

You nod. "Yeah."

He calls over his colleague, and motions for you to wait a moment. They talk silently together, sometimes gesturing to the screen, and then he starts typing and scrolling. "Looks like," he says, interrupting himself. "Yeah. Oh god. Lisa, will you look at this?"

His colleague looks at the screen over his shoulder. "Oh, jeez. Really? She's so gonna get fired, for sure," she mutters, then look up at you. "Yeah, so there's definitely been a mix-up. It looks like housekeeping accidentally marked Mr. Barnes' room as occupied when they had cleaned it. It shouldn't be possible, but to me it looks like… a glitch in the computer system –" She lets out a guttural groan, most likely thinking about the amount of work she now faces.

The one behind the screen clears his throat and gives you what is probably supposed to be a disarming smile, then continues to type. "So, I've updated the database with Mr. Barnes' new room, and yours of course. Would you accept a refund of the night, and a meal in the restaurant, free of charge, of course?"

You nod again, unable to find the words to express how not okay this whole thing has been. "If you offer the same to Mr. Barnes," you say, not sure where that comes from, though when you think about it, he's probably had just as rough a night as you.

"Of course. Here's his new key. Would you mind bringing it to him?" The receptionist's voice trembles ever so slightly, but he keeps the smile plastered on.

"Yeah. I can do that. Thank you for figuring out what happened." You inhale deeply, and rub the back of your neck. Your shoulders are stiff and the beginning of a headache murmurs along your temples.

Now that everything is resolved, you feel weirdly chunky. You drag your feet, your head feels like it's filled with cotton, but there's a lightness to your chest that you hadn't expected.

Back in the room, Bucky is still sleeping, and you decide to let him sleep as long as he needs, feeling almost protective over the man that sleeps so peacefully in the bed that should have been empty. Anyway, you're up now, there's no need to stay in the room. Just then, your stomach growls. Breakfast, then. And after that… Well, you'll see. You hastily scribble an explanation on a piece of paper, leaving it on his bag along with the new key card, then you hang a do not disturb on the door before you hurry down to the restaurant.

When you get back, stomach full and head light, the room is empty. His bag is gone and the only sign someone's been in there is a bed with rumpled sheets and the slightly unfamiliar, sleepy scent. You sit down on your own bed, surprised that you're not sure how you feel about being alone again. It's probably the shock still lingering in your system, you think, and shake the feeling off before picking up your art supplies and heading out into the city to work.

That afternoon, when you return to your room to change and relax before you start sorting through the day's drawings, there's a vase with hydrangeas on the small desk, along with a handwritten note that says thank you for letting me stay. The ball of blue and purple flowers makes you smile. Bucky obviously is a decent man, and you find yourself wishing you could get to know him, regretting not even peeking at the room number on the key.

It doesn't take long going through the drawings – you've been too distracted, really, to get any good ones done, and the project isn't due for another two weeks, so you don't have the pressure on you to finish it now, so you decide to take the hotel's offer and have dinner in the restaurant. It's a nice place, and you try to tidy up a bit, refreshing your make-up and putting on a clean top that feels nice against your skin.

The waiters all but trip over each other trying to please you, and you figure there's a nice note going with your name. You've always felt a bit uncomfortable eating by yourself in a fancy restaurant, but this time you're determined to just enjoy it, but you've brought a book just in case. And you're partly hidden behind a palm tree, so no staring from other guests, hopefully.

You're halfway through the meal when you feel your face tingling, as if someone's watching you. Stopping mid-chew, you look up. There's no one there. You swallow and put your fork down before glancing over your shoulder. Bucky is seated three tables behind you, but when you look at him, he looks away. Your heart speeds up a bit – christ! You'd forgotten how pretty he was.

He looks up again, and you smile before returning to your meal. At least you can let him know there's no hard feelings. Maybe, if you see him again, you'll pick up the courage to talk to him too.

The food is delicious, and the dessert is simply sublime. How the chef has managed to make the chocolate mousse so creamy and light is beyond your comprehension. Cooking has never been a strength, though you have a few signature dishes, but you know how to appreciate it. The red wine is perfectly paired, and when you're full and satisfied, you're almost ready to go talk to Bucky. But he's not there when you turn. Your heart drops for a moment, but then you remind yourself that he's a stranger, and probably has his own life. All you can do to quench the disappointment, is a short detour through the bar, where you pick up a nice gin fizz, before you head back to your room and call it a night.

The room feels too empty now. The bed is just as soft as it were before, the covers slide over your skin like water, but something is missing. You can't sleep. The room is too silent. The air is too still. You toss and turn and can't seem to find a comfortable position. In the end you roll over on your side, facing the empty bed. Hugging the pillow, you sigh and pull your knees up to your chest. It's too cold. The blanket isn't thick enough to give enough comfort tonight.

Suddenly there's a soft knock on the door. Your heart beats hard in your chest as you cross the floor to look through the peephole. The hallway is empty.

There's another knock, and you jump, bumping your head against the door. It's coming from the other one. The twin door. Slowly, you remove the safety chain and unlock it, opening it just an inch or so.

"Sorry," the person on the other side says.

For a moment you forget how to breathe. The person on the other side is Bucky, smiling sheepishy, and looking like a fucking model in his pyjamas.

"Hello," you answer, resisting the urge to smooth down your t-shirt.

"I just, I just wanted to apologise," he stutters, scrunching his eyebrow together. "For, for last night. I didn't mean to… I mean, I didn't mean to scare you, and the lady in the reception jumped to conclusions before I could explain, and…"

You blink and exhale slowly. "Not your fault," you mutter, too drunk on his presence to articulate properly.

"I know, but still. I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven."

"Good. Okay." His voice drags a bit, and it looks like he's turning away. You're just about to close the door when he turns back. "Listen… Uh, it's… Can I ask you a favour?"

Not ready for the conversation to be over yet, you nod. "Of course. What do you need?"

He grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck and hems and ums for a while. "This is gonna sound… You can say no, of course, but…"

"What is it?" The buzzing has returned to your ears, and you have to focus to hear what he's saying.

Bucky mutters under his breath, it looks like a screw it. "Last night was the best night's sleep I've had in, well years. I was wondering, maybe, if… if I could sleep in your room again."

You're a bit taken back by that. "What?" Your voice is squeaky.

"Yeah, no, of course, I understand." He smiles and inhales deeply. "Good night, Y/N."

It takes a second for your brain to unscramble. "Wait. Yes, I don't mind. It's nice with some company," you wheeze, holding the door open, though a small voice in the back of your head tells you that this is crazy. Not crazier than last night, you interrupt yourself, and open the door fully.

There's uncertainty in his steps as he enters your room, invited this time, unsure if he's heard correctly, but your smile makes him warm inside and he quickly crawls under the covers.

You leave the door ajar, and with a giddy smile and a racing heart you return to your own bed, climbing in with more grace than you thought you possessed. This is nice. The room is settled, it feels natural. You exhale and turn over on your side, facing Bucky. He's facing you too, and there's a sleepy smile in his eyes. As you place your glasses on the nightstand, he closes his eyes.

"Thank you," he breathes.

"Sleep tight, Bucky," you answer, but he's already drifted off, soft snores filling the room. You feel oddly at peace.

Part 2

[alolowrites]

No Capes!

Summary: Mirio visits you at work for a lunch date, but plans change when he meets the one and only Edna Mode.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone!!! First story of 2021, yay!! So this story sat in my WIPs folder since June 2020 (i think, idk I just remember brainstorming and writing a first draft around that time). Left it alone and worked on it these last few days. I couldn’t resist pulling this story thread because hello: it’s Edna Mode we’re talking about lmao. (also this is fanfic so logic is out the window)

Story is a Pro Hero AU (crossover technically??) and it is a fem!Reader. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.1K+

The phone rings off the hook and echoes around the sleek lobby. A female receptionist, cool as a cucumber, answers each call without looking away from the computer screen. She ignores the chaos buzzing around her, filled with rattling clothes racks and frantic chit chatter.  

Mirio steps inside, breathing in the madness as though he’s at a flower field. He strolls toward the receptionist’s desk with a bright smile and casually leans against the marble counter. The young lady does a double-take when she sees the pro hero in all his glory.

“Ah, Lemillion!” She hangs up the phone, which miraculously stays silent. “How may I help you?”  

“Well, I’m here to meet my lovely sunshine,” Mirio nods toward the general direction of your office. “Think I can visit her? We have a lunch date today.”

“Let me make a quick call.” The receptionist presses your extension number and taps her fingers on the desk. Mirio glances at the water fountain flowing behind, admiring the artistic beauty that somehow ties the whole place together. His ears perk up when he hears your name, followed by: “I’m so sorry to bother, ma’am, but Mr. Lemillion is here to see you.”

Mirio beams to himself; he never gets tired of hearing his hero name.

“Uh-huh, yes, ma’am. I will let him know.” The phone clicks and the receptionist sits up straight to deliver the news. “She will be out in a minute.”

You barrel into the lobby in less than five seconds.

Your frantic eyes land on Mirio, who bounces like an adorable golden retriever. You narrowly avoid a fatal crash with a clothes rack as you approach your boyfriend, gasping, “Mirio! What are you doing here?”

He pecks your lips and laughs, “We have a lunch date, sunshine!”

“Oh, that’s right!” You slap your forehead for not remembering this sooner. Your lips twitch into an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, honey. I meant to call you about rescheduling our little date for today. Something came up.”

“Don’t sweat it, sunshine,” Mirio shrugs, caressing your cheek. “We’ll eat another time, and I’ll make sure it’s extra special for you.”

“Ugh, you’re too good for me, you know that?” You mumble against his lips, giving him another quick kiss. A deep sigh reaches Mirio’s ears as your hands slide down against his chest. You glance behind your shoulders with a frown. “Sorry, I just have to deal with a certain someone right now.”

“Do I know them?”

“No!” Both your arms immediately shoot out, blocking the hero from moving forward. Mirio blinks at your bizarre reaction. He raises a concerned eyebrow as you peek over your shoulders again, this time with more urgency.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes! Really, I am!” You bring your arms close to your chest and avoid Mirio’s unconvincing gaze. However, it doesn’t last long since he raises your chin with one finger. Another long sigh escapes your lips. “Listen, I’ll explain everything later, but you must go. Now.”

“But why—”

“Mirio, I love you and all, but you really gotta go,” you beg, pushing the hero toward the glass doors with impressive strength. The blonde man stumbles backward and stammers out your name, but your fearful eyes shut him up. “You can’t be here, okay? You’re wearing your cape socanyoupleasegobefore—”

“Dah-ling!”

Chaos and time freeze in the lobby. Panic ripples throughout your body at the sound of that particular voice; you’re too late, and you’re afraid of what might happen next. Mirio hisses as your nails dig into his costume, almost hard enough to draw out blood. He gently pulls your hands away and looks straight ahead.

Mirio is dumbfounded when he sees an old lady as short as an elf yet exudes an air of confidence fit for the gods. Her unique bob hair shines underneath the ambient lights, the sharp tip ends curling along her face. She dusts off a sleeve and fixes her large round glasses before holding her head high—everything about her screams power without uttering a single word.

“What is taking you so long?!” The lady huffs with one arm crossed. Her blasé attitude cracks a little when she spots Mirio. Twirling her thin black stick at him, she demands, “Who is he? And why is he wearing that awful hobo suit out in public? Who dressed you, plain man?”

“Edna, we talked about this,” you scold, although the woman shrugs at your tone. Rolling your eyes, you face the oddly quiet hero and grab his attention. “Mirio—”

“Huh?” He notices your hesitant smile.

“Please let me introduce you to Edna Mode; she’s a close family friend of mine,” you gesture a hand her way. “Edna, this is Lemillion, aka Mirio Togata; he’s a pro hero here in Japan and is my...boyfriend. For my sake, please don’t scare him.”

“Boyfriend, you say?” Edna does a once-over, assessing him like a garment inspector judging a fabric’s quality. You silently pray she doesn’t see the cape and almost breathe a sigh of relief when she holds her tongue. But the panic returns as her sharp eyes narrow at Mirio. A sweatdrop rolls down your forehead when Edna slithers closer. “Wait a minute...what is he wearing?”

Oh no.

“Like you said: a hobo suit!” You squeak, protectively shielding the confused hero. Your remark delivers a harsh blow to his stomach. Suddenly, you shove him closer to the exit, not caring if they don’t open; he could just phase through them. You awkwardly laugh, “It’s a real eyesore, I know.”

Mirio balks, “What?”

“We can talk about this later!”

“What is this?!” Edna clenches the red drapes flowing down Mirio’s back. You’re surprised it doesn’t burn into ashes in her unforgiving grasp. You cower under Edna’s menacing glare, sinking deeper into Mirio’s chest for support. The hero, meanwhile, holds you up with a hand around your waist. He puts on a brave face despite feeling scared shitless.

Eventually, you meekly answer, “It’s uh...it’s a cape?”

“Exactly! No capes!”

The cape sags when Edna lets go, dangling her hand out as if she touched a dirty toilet. She demands a box of Clorox wipes and a flamethrower. You pinch the bridge of your nose at her absurd antics. A fierce stick points at you and Mirio when Edna shouts, “We must discuss this travesty in my office, immediately!”

You scrunch your face as she trots away. “But it’s my office!”

“Bring the mess with you too!”

Great…

A headache pounds against your skull; it’s too early to deal with this madness. Still, you have no choice but to follow Edna and face the fire. Of course, most of it will be directed toward Mirio, who committed the actual fashion crime. With a final sigh, you mumble, “C’mon on.”

“Wait, what did I do?!”

“You wore a cape.” Mirio scratches his head, not understanding why his cape got him in trouble. Tugging his hand, you drag him to your office and shoot him a pointed look. “Edna’s hatred for capes goes way back, and now we’re both gonna get an earful about it.”

“It can’t be that bad, right?”

“Oh, honey, you have no idea.”

As always, thanks for reading!!

[shhhlikeme]

A/N: Feeling writers block so I thought I’d throw in headcannons with some of my fave boys that has been sitting in my drafts! If you want me to continue this with more characters, request em!

————————————

Intentionally or Unintentionally CockTeasing The Haikyuu Boys Because They Can’t Have Sex

(Slight NSFW)

————————————

So this is wah gwan/

Background for Understanding:

Your boyfriend was playing volleyball and pulled the groin muscle in his inner thigh. After several x-rays, he would be out a little longer than a month before making a full recovery. But the doctor told him that the boy MUST refrain from ANY and ALL sexual activity if they ever want to play again. The look on his face looked like he had just been told that the world was ending lmao. You snickered and hugged him. Reassuring them that “It’ll be fine, babe.”

But it wouldn’t be.

Because you were a little shit (unintentional or not).

Needless to say, they were having a tough time refraining from any and all sexual activity—

Here’s why:

Wakatoshi

“Y/N. Do you think this is funny?” Asks your boyfriend seriously as he gives you a disapproving look. You’d think he was your school principal by the way he was chastising you.

You feigned innocence as you pouted at him with wide eyes. “What? What am I doing now, Toshiiii?”

He didn’t blink.

“Must you practice your splits for cheerleading right here? In front of me? Wearing a thong? Why not go to the den.”

Suppressing your urge to giggle, you leaned further into your almost-middle splits as you flipped your hair—looking back at him over your shoulder.

“No, I want to be near you, Tosh.”

Your boyfriend scoffed at your response, unimpressed and frankly pissed.

“I do not want you near me doing that. Go. Now.”

You smile because as your giant serious boyfriend spoke he stared intently at your ass only. You could see the tent forming in his jeans as he watched you stretch.

“You’ll have much more space to do this in the den.” He added.

“Oh? You want me to go to the den because I’ll have more space, love? Or could it be because you want to help me stretch out elsewhere—maybe the inside of my pussy—but the doctor said you can’t?”

Toshi’s mouth fell open at your insinuation. Annoyed and undeniably horny, he makes himself shut his mouth again. You reached your hands forward in the stretch to give your man a better visual of your ass and you could hear him groan from behind you.

Ushijima made a move to take you upstairs before remembering the doctors orders and stopping. He reminded himself why he cared so much about that sport that was standing in his way from fucking his girlfriend to oblivion and tried to calm his anger at you for teasing him.

“I’ll go, then.” He stated angrily. “I’m going to Tendou’s. Tell me when you’re done stretching, and I’ll be back.”

You waved at your boyfriend happily as he left because he looked funny marching out with a huge boner sticking out from his front.

“Okay, baby! I will!”

Hinata

“Whoaa....” Murmured Shōyo as he watched you with wide eyes. For the past three minutes he has had his eyes glued to you while you devoured the ice cream cone he had just gotten you two from your fridge.

You used your tongue to lick all around the vanilla treat. Swirling your tongue up, down, and around, sometimes making a slurpy sound that sounded quite familiar to the boy who missed your blow jobs so much.

Mans sat there watching your tongue like he was in a trance, his eyes flicking from your mouth to his attention-starved dick then back to your mouth.

When the ice cream shrunk enough to be swallowed like your boyfriends cock, you enclosed your lips around it suggestively and met your boyfriends pleading eyes as you did it.

You finished the rest of your frozen treat happily, knowing you just made your boyfriend incoherent with lust.

“Mmmm......it’s so sticky........and tastes so good....” you sigh in delight as you lick your fingers of the white creamy sweetness.

“Shōyo? You haven’t even touched your ice cream. And it’s dripping all over your hand!”

After calling his name twice more Hinata snapped out of his trance, he looked over at his dripping strawberry ice cream cone that he’d forgotten he even had as soon as he heard your first slurp.

“Oh, Y/N. Here, please, take mine too!” He shoved his ice cream in your direction and you slowly take it from your oddly acting boyfriend.

“You want me to..... have your ice cream?”

Hinata nodded enthusiastically before he quickly wiped his hands clean with a paper towel. He leaned his head on his knuckles as he got comfortable, preparing himself to watch you swirl your tongue around ice cream again like this was his favourite Marvel movie!

“Okay, I’m ready.” He says with bright, eager eyes.

Actual footage of your boyfriend Shōyo:

“Go.”

Aran

“Babe. You had to pick this movie on your choice of movie night?” Your boyfriend wiped his face as a show of stress. He begrudgily stared at his screen and then looked down at you through the slits of his eyes.

Pressed to his side on the couch, you smiled up at him innocently.

“365 Days? What’s wrong with it? I think it’s interesting so far. Plus, Atsumu suggested it to me. He told me to play it on our next movie night!”

Aran clenched his fists under the blanket at your words, secretly promising himself to tell his best friend’s new girlfriend how many girls Atsumu has really been with before her the next time Aran went over there.

LMFAOOOOO

“Oh he did, did he? Atsumu. That angel.....” He grimaced. “Was this before or after you told him about the doctors orders when he was worried?” Aran asked between clenched teeth.

“Uhhh.....after, I’m pretty sure. But, Aran, shhhhhhh! It’s getting to a good part!” Aran watched your beautiful eyes light up as the two characters in the movie started fucking on the yacht like animals.

“Ouuu, baby. We should try that position tonight!” You quip, pointing at the screen then taking a sip of your coke.

Aran cursed his stupid friend. “I—“

“Oh right, sorry! I forgot you can’t, poo. But as soon as you are cured, can we try that?!”

Your boyfriend stared you down in mental agony as he pictured pistoning his dick in you mirroring the position on screen—only right now on this couch. His dick jumped.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “When I’m cured.”

“How long again?” You asked as you grabbed the remote to turn up the sound volume during another hot sex scene.

“Too damn long.” He rolled his eyes as he looked back at the porn-disguised-as a-romantic-movie on screen too.

Yams

“Auuuuuuhhhhhhhhh. Yesssssssssss. F-f-f-feels soooooooo g-o-o-o-d-d-d-d, Tadashi.....”

With a violent blush, your boyfriend gave the Furniture store worker a thumbs up.

“I umm.... guess she likes it.” Tadashi reasoned, putting his hand on your shoulder. He squeezed your shoulder silently trying to tell you to quiet down in the store.

Sitting in the turbo massage chair, you moaned some more, letting your boyfriend and the worker know how much you liked how it felt. Tadashi’s ears perked up at every sigh and moan you made. He couldn’t rid his mind of memories of you moaning just like that when you’re on top of him and he has a vibrator pressed to your clit. It was clouding his thoughts. He bit his lip as he zoned out thinking about the fun you two could have on this chair at home with a vibrator. Only a month longer from this stupid injury and you’d be extra sensitive on his dick with the help of this chair....

“—and the parts will be sold separately. Should I ring you up, sir?”

Tadashi was startled when his girlfriend slapped him blindly on the chest to get his attention back to the sales associate.

What is wrong with him? You thought as you felt your lower back getting kneaded. The man is standing right in front of him and he’s zoning out? Get it together, Space Cadet Yams.

“Huh?! Excuse me?! Sorry, what?” Tadashi rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I was distracted. Can you repeat that?!” He apologized.

The sales associate smiled kindly.

“Sure thing Mr. Tadashi.....so, I was just explaining that the massage chair is the best of its generation. If you look right here on the remote I have— it has 8 brilliant speeds and intensity adjustments. Your girlfriend is on 2 right now which means that if I increase it to, let’s say, 5 ...”

As the associate spoke, Yams was pulled from paying attention to him as you moaned louder when the level setting increased. “O-o-oh my G-g-god.....Dashi y-y-y-es.”

Picturing you saying this while you were grinding on his cunt-buried dick, Yams knew he was on the verge of defying his doctors orders and just fucking you in the car....

The massage chair dug into your tense shoulders yes LORD—

“Oh b-b-baby. T-th-thats-s th-the sp-p-p-o-t-t..”

As a last ditch effort to save his volleyball career, Yams rudely snatched the remote from the employee’s hands, scattering to hide his new erection behind the massage chair.

He clicked a button on the remote to turn the massage chair off fully while blushing at the employees shocked expression due to being interrupted and basically assaulted.

“Um, sorry! We’ll take it!” Yams freaked out apologetically.

“😱 Yamaguchi!” You scolded your boyfriend’s sudden rudeness. “That was so impolit—“ turning in the chair to see your boyfriends dark blush that you recognized to be his horny face, you stopped. It only took one look at him for you to understand exactly why he just acted completely out of character and rude. It reminded you that you have been on this sex strike with him for far too long, ugh.

You stood up from the chair, calling the confused associates attention away from your horny boyfriend. “Um.... I can sign the paper work. Want to bring me to the cash?” You asked him professionally.

The salesman blinked at Yams before looking down at you. “Uh, of-of course ma’am. Follow me.”

As you two walked away Yams’ top half collapsed on the head rest of the chair. He tried to will his hard member to soften but with the massage chair currently under his skin and so close to him, he couldn’t get your vibrated moans out of his head.

He decided that a stroll through the store’s bathroom section might help.

Ya, that would definitely help.

Akaashi

“I know what you’re doing.” Your boyfriend deadpanned as you showed up late to dinner wearing an extremely low cut dress in the chest area. Your breasts could stop traffic in that and you had only just taken off your trench coat after you and Akaashi sat down so he and the female server were basically the only ones who got an eyeful the entire night.

“I like this dress, Kashi. Don’t you? Can you pass me the salad, please?”

Challenging you with his eyes and trying his best not to look down at your remarkable chest, Akaashi reached over to share you some Mediterranean salad onto your plate like a gentleman.

“Say when.” He insisted.

You smiled and leaned forward to peer at his serving so that your boobs were pressed to the forearm he held the bowl with. Akaashi’s breath hitched. After sharing way more than you could eat, you leaned in close to his ear and whispered

“When.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes flickered down to your boobs before he adjusted himself to relieve the tightening in his pants.

“So, how is your injury, babe?” You ask sweetly, taking a bite of the salad and smiling at him.

“It’s fine. As long as I get to play again it’s manageable, but I believe—“

“Crap.” You pretended to be just as uncomfortable as your boyfriend sitting with a boner as you clutched the bottom of your boobs. You pressed them upward, re-situating them with purpose. Akaashi stared at your breasts openly as he took a shaky deep breath.

“What’s the matter?” He asked hungrily, calling back his composure.

“Oh, my bra wire is just bugging me. Boys wouldn’t understand......” You fixed them some more.

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N.” Akaashi licked his lips and watched you basically fondle your soft breasts in front of him. It made his mouth water, but he tried not to show it.

“Hm. You’re the smartest person I know, so I reckon you do know what I’m doing....” You quirked an eyebrow as you removed your hands from your girls and took a gentle sip of your water.

“—Is it working?” You winked at him like a trained seductress-assassinator in a major motion picture.

Akaashi leaned back in his seat, he undressed you with his eyes; also like a trained seductress-assasinator in a major motion picture.

You shivered under the insanely beautiful man’s intensive gaze, closing your thighs to relieve the tension you suddenly felt in your private area since he made you beyond horny with that look.

“It’s working. Yes.” The side of Keiji’s lip quirked up in a half grin. “But I’m fairly certain you don’t know that the doctor called 3 days ago and told me that I am recovering exceptionally fast. He gave me the green light for physical activity again. Sexual: physical activity. I double checked.”

The blood drained from your face as you felt a wave of upcoming pleasure wash through you. You had been waiting 23 days without sex and in a flash you regrettably remembered just how much of your teasing over that period your gorgeous boyfriend had to endure. How much he had to pay you back for.

Akaashi smirked ever so sexily at your shocked reaction. Good, he thought to himself. So you knew what was in store for you tonight.

You stared at him like 👁👄👁

“Waiter.” Your hubby called over your head in his attractive voice with an elegant lift of his glass. He dropped his eyes to look back at you with a panty-dropping stare. As you shivered again, Akaashi proclaimed the weighted words that would inaugurate a long night of screams, kisses, and earth shattering orgasms:

“Cheque please.”

[willow-salix]

Ok, so, here's the next chapter.

It's a wee bit weird, so feel free to skip most of it, it won't affect the story at all. It's just there, doing it's thing.

Here's the first part, you can follow the link to read the rest of dip out here if you don't want to read a full ritual.

---

“What do you mean Lin is in the hospital?” Selene gasped, unable to believe her ears. “I just saw him no more than...” she glanced at her phone, “four hours ago.”

“Yeah, well, that was before the arrow hit him,” Vera snorted, tugging at Selene’s dress as she unzipped it and yanked it down.

“Arrow? What arrow?” Selene asked, her voice muffled as a new dress was slung over her head.

“The one that hit him in the leg,” Alegra answered as she bustled past with an armful of candles, clearly heading outside to the circle clearing.

“What the hell was he doing to get shot in the leg?”

“Teaching an archery class, it appears someone had very bad aim. One legged Linden strikes again,” Alegra replied.

“That name is because he is the master of Tree pose, not because he only has one working leg!" Selene argued, starting to feel more than a little stressed. “Who the hell is going to be my Priest if Linden is out of action? There’s no one else I’ve worked with enough to even have a connection with let alone one enough to raise the power needed for the circle.”

“Don’t you worry your head about it,” Vera snapped, tugging violently on Selene’s arm, yanking her down in a chair where she sat as still as a statue, allowing the old lady to attack her hair. “Tanzi said she had a plan, so give her some time to see what she can pull out of her arse before you start your panic flapping.”

“But there isn’t anyone here,” Selene argued. “Why don’t we let Tanzi take my place, she’s worked with far more people than I have, she'd know how to work their energy better than me.”

“Because it’s your role, that’s why.”

“But I- OW!”

Vera pulled the brush back like she might donk Selene on the head again.

“We’ll have none of that negativity, my girl, I taught you better than that. You know negativity before a circle is a no no. Just trust the Gods, trust they have a plan and a reason.”

“Linden won’t like that he was part of whatever plan they supposedly had,” Selene grumbled but stayed still as Vera slapped a flower crown on her head and set to work curling her hair around it.

"Well, it's not like he has a say in it now, is it?"

-x-

“I feel ridiculous,” John complained as Tanzi straightened his tunic, giving him the once over.

“Oh hush, you look gorgeous, she’s gonna shit a brick when she sees you.”

“I swear, if anyone even dares to take a picture I’ll make sure that they never get an internet connection again for the rest of their lives,” John threatened, wincing as Tanzi grabbed a comb and a pair of scissors to start attacking his hair. "Are you sure this is completely necessary?"

"Oh yes, very necessary, you have to dress the part, besides, it'll be worth it, you'll thank me later," Tanzi grinned admiring her handiwork. "That bitch is gonna send me a gift basket for making you look so good."

"And there's really no one else to do it?"

"No, I already told you. Linden is out of action and it's been years since she's worked with anyone close enough to lead a ritual with them. You're bonded to her, you're basically her familiar, you're the perfect solution. Don't worry, it'll be fine, believe it or not she does know what she's doing, she won't let you mess up."

"I never thought for a moment that she wouldn't be completely capable and in control, she always is. She may seem flighty but-"

"You don't have to tell me," Tanzi interrupted, patting his shoulder. "I've known her since she entered the craft, in fact I think tonight will be quite eye opening for you. You've never seen her in a ritual before, have you?"

John shook his head.

"Then you're in for a treat, she's a natural performer as well as a talented witch."

"My wife with a penchant for dramatic performance? Never."

Tanzi sniggered under her breath but declined to comment, focusing her attention on the back of his head as she worked.

"Are you sure this is all I have to do?" John asked, unfolding the instructions he'd been given and reading them through again. They seemed simple enough, follow Selene, stand where he was told, do as she directed and only speak when she spoke to him first or asked him a question, it sounded like a standard social event to him.

"Yep. You've got your part of the performance there too, just make sure you give Sel her part."

"Tell me again why we aren't warning her about this?"

"Because I want to see the look on her face," Tanzi shrugged. "I'm old, I have to get my kicks somewhere."

John snorted out a laugh. "Don't let my Grandma hear you complaining about being old, she gets very defensive when anyone under sixty even dares to mention they have a wrinkle."

"Good job I'm over 60 then," Tanzi answered distractedly, tugging at the side of his head as she tried to wrestle his hair into submission. He resisted the urge to flinch and instead focused on her words.

"Sure you are, and I'm planning a career change to become a game show host." The woman didn't look any older than he did, let alone old enough to appease his Grandma.

Tanzi grinned evilly. "Look me up if you don't believe me, but sit still while you do it."

For want of anything better to do John pulled out his phone and did as he was told. It took him less than two minutes and a tiny bit of government file delving to find the truth.

"There's only one Tanzanite Summerland, who is apparently seventy-eight years old."

Tanzi hummed a little sound of acknowledgement as she worked on his parting, trying to force his hair to lay in a way that didn't come naturally to it. "Why won't your bloody hair stay where I put it?"

"Selene asks the same thing, I gave up trying to change it years ago and just work with it, but don't think I don't know you're trying to change the subject," he retorted, on to her game.

She huffed, giving up on the parting, deciding to work with what she had, smoothing it back into place instead. "I'm mated to a full bloodied Shifter, Nikos is 297."

"He's what?" John spluttered, turning to look at her. "That's impossible."

"Dude, you turn into a cat, nothing should be impossible to you," she drawled, her tone implying she thought he was being particularly dense as she grabbed his head and turned it to face forward. "Avery is 413."

"Avery too? What does he turn into?"

"Nothing, though I'm sure he'd love to embrace the bat cliché if he could."

"Bat? Why would h-"

Tanzi raised her curved fingers to her mouth in a crude depiction of fangs and hissed.

John's eyes widened.

Tanzi nodded. "Yeah, and he's still not matured into a fully functioning adult, he'd be lost without my sister, I swear. Now, you've got your words, I've done the best I can with your hair, I think you're good to go."

"What? No! I've got questions, you can't just dump this kind of information on me and expect me to just accept it. I need answers."

"No time my friend, chop chop, it's getting dark, move your arse, your wife's waiting."

-x-

"Seriously?"

Selene couldn't have been more shocked if Tanzi had produced a monkey from her pocket to slap her around the face.

"You think John is the solution to our problem? How? Why? He hates people!"

"Oh hush," Tanzi soothed, brushing away her concerns. "He'll be fine, it's only a little ritual-"

"Little? There's a hundred and fifty people out there joining in!"

"In at the deep end," Tanzi shrugged, "he married a witch, he's gotta learn sometime. He said he'd do it."

"But why him? Is there really no one else?" Selene fretted, more worried about her husband's social anxiety than the ritual itself. "Can't you do it?"

"Nope, you're our poster child, you're the one they came to see, we can't let them down. He's the only person here with a connection to you that won't dull your energy. You know a Priest is supposed to enhance it, not drain it."

Selene wanted to argue, but her friend did make a good point, not that she wanted to admit it. She had worked with John in little ways before, working on his intuition and raising his personal power quicker and easier before each shift he attempted; it really wouldn’t be that much different for him, you know, apart from all the people staring at him.

“Fuck it, we’ll make it work,” Selene huffed. “Did you at least prepare him, even a little? Gods, he’s never going to leave my side again after this. I walked away for an hour and he was drafted.”

“Of course I prepared him, I gave him a script and everything,” Tanzi promised her, crossing her heart.

“Which script?” Selene asked suspiciously.

“This one,” Tanzi grinned, handing Selene a book of Shadows already opened on a page.

Selene quickly scanned through the pages, recognising the revised ritual instantly.

“I’m going to make a few adjustments,” she stated in a tone that allowed no arguments.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” Tanzi assured her, knowing that she had won that round.

“Fine,” Selene sighed, checking the time. “Then I guess I'm ready.”

“Good, let’s go,” Tanzi said, draping a cloak around Selene’s shoulders.

“Hang on, where’s my chapstick?”

“Do you really need it?” Tanzi asked, desperate to get the other woman moving.

“Yes, I do, especially as I have a lot of foreheads to kiss out there,” Selene answered, already scrabbling through her bag looking for the elusive little tube.

“Where the hell is the bloody...Oh, thanks, babe,” she said in response to the chapstick that appeared in her line of sight, recognising the ring on the hand that held it. She took the stick and slicked on a generous amount, making fish out of water noises at her reflection in the mirror before turning around. She stumbled, reaching blindly behind her for something to hold on to, because praise be to every single deity for the God that was her husband.

“Holy shitballs Batman!”

“See, I look stupid!” John huffed, his cheeks burning. He should never have let himself be talked into it.

“Rubbish,” Tanzi scoffed.

“Wow,” Selene breathed, seemingly unable to form any full sentences.

“Told you she’d like it,” Tanzi grinned.

“What...I mean...how the...my Gods,” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from the pure gorgeousness she was seeing. Her eyes kept darting to a new part of him, there was simply too much beauty to take in in one go. “Wow.”

“Yes, I am a miracle worker, I know this,” Tanzi preened, brushing a non-existent speck of dirt off his shoulder.

“Is that a wig?”

“Clip in extensions.”

“My Gods,” Selene whispered again. John’s hair was now brushing his shoulders, falling in shimmering red waves that perfectly matched his own colour. His usual side parting had been maintained, the extensions having obviously been trimmed to blend in with his forelock, which somehow made it look less alien on him. Her fingers itched to run through all that silky looking hair and she actually reached out a hand but Tanzi slapped it down.

He was dressed in a black shirt with loose fitted sleeves that laced up across his chest under a dark forest green tunic. His legs were encased in black leggings and dark brown lace up boots that came up to just below his knees. He had a black cloak over one arm and a metal headpiece that encircled his head looking rather like a crown. But it was the pointed ears that peeked out from his hair that really pulled the whole look together.

“Fuck...me,” Selene was absolutely stunned, taking a few steps towards him, wanting to be close, to touch, to kiss...

“Later,” Tanzi ordered. “You two have to get moving, I can hear the drums already.”

Snapping out of her dazzling husband induced daze, Selene grabbed a sword that had been laying on a table in one hand and reached for his hand with the other.

If John felt nervous dressed in his ridiculous costume, it was nothing compared to how Selene seemed to be feeling. He could feel her hand shaking in his and hear the way she kept sucking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

He wanted to say something to make it better, but knew that in times like these words made very little difference to her. Instead he repositioned her hand in his, linking their fingers and giving it a comforting squeeze. She looked different tonight, he’d seen her in ritual robes before, but this time she had replaced the dramatic makeup she had been wearing earlier with something much more subtle. She looked younger, less sure of herself, with pale golden eyeshadow, pink blushed cheeks and no lipstick, maybe that was part of the reason that she looked a little less confident than normal.

They waited just outside the perimeter that had been marked out for the circle, around which a ring of people stood, others seated in little huddles on blankets, obviously not part of the actual ritual but wishing to observe. The whole clearing was lit up by the crackling flames of a large bonfire, which warmed the chill air to a more pleasant temperature now that the sun had gone down, taking its heat with it.

The drumming that had been growing louder with each passing moment reached its crescendo and abruptly stopped. He felt her stiffen and heard her inhale deeply once more, holding it for the count of five before letting it out slowly.

“Show time,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “Just follow my lead, babe, I won’t let you down.”

“I know,” he assured her, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

Link to Ao3

[unmanageable-day]

you can read the first part here but i think it’s not that necessary lol

Pairing. Mingyu x y/n x Wonwoo

Genre. angst / ugly break up, mention of accusing of cheating

Summary. Mingyu doesn’t want to be that person he hates the most, who regrets everything later and realizes how precious one is after that person is not within his reach anymore. Unfortunately it is probably already too late

a/n: i used to have the longer version of his in my draft but tumblr didn’t let me save it and it got lost just like that.

He had been declining your intention to meet in person. It had been 5 days since he got discharged and went back home. You sent text messages to him everyday, asking if you could come over. He kept making excuses, saying he wanted to rest or he didn't feel good. Frankly he never felt good since Wonwoo visited him in the hospital. He knew once he agreed to meet you, it would be over that instant. It was difficult to get a wink of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, Wonwoo's words kept echoing in his ears.

It's now a waiting game. She wouldn't want to be associated with you. She probably regrets knowing a Kim Mingyu. It's now a waiting game. Enjoy while it lasts. Being Y/N's boyfriend.

One day, it seemed you had reached the peak of frustration and it showed in your most recent text. 'Mingyu, I don't know how to put it into words. But I really need to talk to you and I don't think I can hold it any longer. If we can't meet, then I think I should just tell you through text.' Even Mingyu could hear the way you talked.

Without thinking, Mingyu called you right away. He was afraid to receive more texts from you because he knew what you would say. The idea of being dumped through text was scarier than he thought.

"Y/N?" "How are you doing?" "I'm.. good, I guess." "Look, I..." "After lunch. Is that okay?" he asked weakly. "Okay. I'll bring your favorite bread pudding." "No need to. I'm good." Mingyu tried hard not to choke himself when he realized tears were ready to stream down his cheeks. "But still.." "Y/N?" "Yeah?" "I love you." It was odd even for him to say it now. "Oh.." You sounded taken aback. You paused, not knowing what to say. "Anyway, I'm hanging up first," Mingyu continued. He knew he can’t take it anymore. 

He dragged his feet to wash his face. His mother was excited to hear that you would come over. She had no idea that you coming just for one purpose only; to end everything with her son. Mingyu had to force a smile and lie that he and you were fine.

Mingyu’s mother escorted you directly to the son’s room as you arrived. You found Mingyu sitting up on his bed, staring at nothing. His mother had to call him to snap him back to reality before leaving his bedroom.

You sat on the other edge of his bed. "Mingyu, I’ll just be straight to the point. About us..."

“Wait,” he interrupted with a weak voice. “I'll get you some cake Joshua brought yesterday. You'll love it.” Then he got up, leaving you in his bedroom for a moment.

You sighed. This should be easy.

Mingyu came back with a little smile, two plates of strawberry cake were on his hands. "Joshua is learning to bake. He's not on my level yet but the taste is not bad."

You smiled listening to him.

"Seungkwan just arrived from Jeju yesterday and brought some tangerines. I think my mom has prepared some for you too." He kept on going about his friends. Jeonghan finally going official with his girl friend. Seungcheol planning to go mount climbing with his gym buddies. Seokmin making new friends with some guys in the office. Until he was running out of his friends' life updates, Mingyu eventually slowed down talking.

"Can I have my turn to talk?" you asked, trying to read his mood carefully. He had been smiling a lot when he rambled about his buddies. You just didn't know—or maybe you just didn't care that much anymore that the smiley face was just a disguise.

No. Don't.. Mingyu now wore an expressionless face, his eyes locked on yours. He wished you could read his mind. He didn't dare to say 'don't say a word' right into your face.

"Mingyu, I.. I don't think we can, I can.. now it's just..." Why was it so hard to you to complete your sentence? It used to be easy with your previous boyfriends.

"Don't.." he mumbled.

"What?"

He shook his head slowly. His jaw was clenched, teeth gritted as he almost blurted it out. Don't continue. Don't speak a word..

Inhaling deeply, you continued. "Mingyu, don’t you think it would be better to end—"

"Y/N, please tell me we'll be alright," he cut in. His eyes looked desperate, searching for mercy while gazing deeply directly at yours. He gripped your hands, continuing, "I was wrong. We should have never fought. I messed up. The fault was all mine."

"Mingyu.."

"I'll do anything. Anything for you to forgive me. I will not ask anything about you and Wonwoo anymore. If you want to hang out with Wonwoo on weekends, you can go and I won't say anything. If you guys want to have your exclusive movie night, or game night, or even sleepover, it's okay, I won't question you anymore." He put his head down as he started to sniffle.

‘Seriously? You never got jealous over Chaeyeon just once?’ Mingyu asked one day, fascinated by the fact that you were his first girlfriend that never questioned about his best friend who was a girl.

‘Why should I?’ you chuckled. ‘I also have Wonwoo, remember?’

‘We’re definitely the coolest couple,’ he cheered happily.

Both Mingyu and you had been understanding about your respective best friends. You had no problem with Mingyu going out with Chaeyeon even when it was just the two of them. Mingyu also used to be fine when you had to cancel your dates because Wonwoo needed you. Until it didn’t work that way anymore one day.

"Mingyu, don't be like this."

"I'm sorry," he sobbed harder as he squeezed your hands. "If I have to beg on my knees, I will. So, please, let this stay in the past and we'll start anew."

You stayed still, feeling uneasy as you watched Mingyu weeping his eyes out. He kept mumbling 'I'm sorry's and 'this is all my fault's desperately.

"Mingyu, stop crying. Your mother will think I'm being violent to you." You reached out your thumbs to wipe off the tears all over his face. Contrasting the affectionate gestures, your tone sounded cold and your expression was dull. Or maybe irritated. That was what he thought judging from your frown.

Mingyu held your hands cupping his own cheeks. "Y/N, please?"

You quickly pulled your hands away. "Mingyu, let's give ourselves some more time to think, okay?"

—

"Mingyu?" You were flustered to see him in front of your door. More than a week had passed and you hadn’t seen him again to finish the last hanging conversation. You never expected him to come to you first like this.

"Y/N.." A smile—a bittersweet one—slowly crept up his lips, showing off his canine. He didn't look as content like he used to. His eyes couldn't even hide his sadness and he looked unsure of what he was doing. But from the way he called your name, there was a longing feeling in his voice.

"I'm sorry but you should go home, Mingyu," was all you could say.

He should know better that his presence was unexpected and probably unwanted. "I don't want to. It kills me inside to be home alone. It feels like dying to think that you're not within my reach, that you're so distant from me. Y/N, if you want to despise me, you can. If yelling at me can relieve your frustration, yell at me and I won't talk back. Y/N, please, just hate me for the rest of your life but please don't be like this. I can't stand this cold shoulders, it's torturing me. I just want to be a part of your life, as a person who can have all your trust, as a person who will always believe in you and be by your side, as a person who loves you with all my heart."

A cynical tsk was suddenly heard. Without making a sound, Wonwoo was approaching your side with his light steps just like a cat. "You finish with your words?"

"Jeon Wonwoo.. what—" He choked on his own words, effectively stopping himself from doing what he used to do; questioning your intimate friendship with Wonwoo. A train of memories of you and him arguing in a big fight suddenly slipped across his mind.

'What is exactly your relationship with Wonwoo? You often ditch me for him. Is he really that important and I'm not? I'm your boyfriend, Y/N.' 'Are you seeing him behind my back? Are you fucking him?' You thought you could hold it in, but not with him accusing you like this. 'Mingyu, you sound crazy, do you know that? Are you hearing yourself?' you snapped. 'I sound crazy right now? How about you always saying 'Wonwoo this' and 'Wonwoo that', when I am literally your boyfriend who puts you, my girlfriend, on top of my priority list?' 'Do you know how many times I have to hold myself back, because I don't want to be that insecure bitch saying 'don't go with Wonwoo', 'do you have to go with Wonwoo?' and 'I don't like it when you go out with Wonwoo'?' 'Are you playing with me now? Am I just a toy?' 'Is it fun two-timing me over your so-called best friend?' 'Two-tim— Mingyu, you—' That was the first time you raised your voice to him that you wanted to slap him hard. But you didn’t. 'Okay. Let's do this. Is it me or is it Wonwoo?' 'Mingyu, you're out of your mind!' you almost shrieked. 'I ask you one more time, is it me or is it Wonwoo?' 'I really can't do this. Fine if you really want to hear my answer. Sorry, Mingyu, good bye.' It hit him. 'Y/N! You didn't mean it, did you?' 'Sorry, Mingyu.. Wonwoo and I value our friendship in a way you will never understand. Wonwoo it is,’ you told him as you started to walk away. It hit him hard. He quickly reached your arms. The last thing he would want was regretting his decision and realizing how precious one is after losing her. 'Y/N! No, no, no. Forget what I asked. I can't lose you like this!' A heavy sigh escaped your mouth along with tears streaming down your cheek. 'Mingyu, I'm tired. I don't want to hurt you anymore. You're tired of that too, right?' you weakly said as you wiped your tears. With him not saying anything anymore, you left him without turning back.

Mingyu recalled one of the ugliest fight between you. It was painful to remember all the following parts when you gave up talking to him. When you chose Wonwoo over him. When you said you were tired of hurting him. When he just realized what he did wrong when you disappeared from his sight.

"If your business is done here, you should go home. Or are you going to ask why I'm here?" Wonwoo cooed.

Mingyu tried to ignore him. He turned to look at you, but you still looked unfazed, looking away as you crossed your arms. "I.. didn't know Wonwoo was here.."

A mocking chuckle escaped his mouth, scratching another wound to Mingyu's pride. "I am her best friend. I am here all the time. As a matter of fact, we were fucking. But you disturbed us."

To be honest, you were shocked to hear Wonwoo talking like that. On a normal daily basis, he was calm and speak nothing but good words. He never got himself involved in a cat fight. Except, when it comes to you, he will never hesitate to throw hands at anyone who dares messing up with you.

"No need to be surprised, right?" Wonwoo continued. "You said it yourself. You asked Y/N once, right? I guess you were very curious about whether she and I fuck each other. We do, Mingyu. We do."

You remained silent. Partially it was because you were taken aback at Wonwoo's odd behavior. He didn't usually get mad easily. You knew he would always take your side. But at the same time, maybe Wonwoo being like this would help to make Mingyu go away.

Mingyu was trembling on his spot. "Y/N, please say something," he weakly pleaded. At this moment he couldn't even tell if Wonwoo was just talking bullshit or it was actually the truth. Back in the days, when he confronted you about it, you immediately said no. For now he just wanted to believe what you said weeks ago.

Your mouth was sealed. Your eyes travel to take a glance at the tall guy just to flash him a dark, cold expression of yours before looking at the ground again.

“Y/N, please..” He was on the brink of crying.

You looked up and found his teary eyes. “You didn’t believe me when I said no. So what makes it different if you do  now? It won’t change anything anyways.”

"The real question is, Mingyu, what are you doing here?" Again, Wonwoo retorted, smirking, folding his arms on his chest. Surprisingly this gesture made him even more intimidating despite his slim figure. His victorious, confident smile definitely was what made him look superior. “Oh, right!” he continued, chuckling—mocking, “After a lot of things happened, I almost forget you’re still Y/N’s boyfriend. Or are you not anymore?”

You noticed how uncomfortable Mingyu was standing before you. At the same time, you were also reminded how he doubted your friendship with Wonwoo, how he always suspected you and Wonwoo, until he wrongfully accused you. Then you remembered what he said days ago, about him not saying anything about Wonwoo anymore. It turned out you still have a heart to not let Mingyu break down completely. The big, tall guy clearly had no idea what to do, or what to say. He was tense, nervous and restless, knowing that his presence unwanted. Even the habit of brushing his fringe back was only done once since he came; usually he did it thousands times and you used to mimic him on behalf of his friend, Seokmin.

You softly asked Wonwoo to go back to your kitchen to check on the scone you two made, and thankfully he obeyed you. Even when he left you, his victorious smrik wouldn't disappear as he kept eyeing the taller guy.

"Mingyu, it's not healthy for us—for you, to keep it this way," you uttered. "You should stop apologize too. It's already in the past. Even I won't bring it up again. You will be forgiven, I promise, but not now. For now, I think it’s best for us to go on our own."

"Please, give us another chance," he sobbed, his voice cracking.

You heard Wonwoo calling your name, followed by an unclear mumbles. But you sure did hear that your scone was failing.

"Mingyu, I'm sorry but I'm running late for Wonwoo's mom's birthday dinner." You looked concerned, but definitely not apologetic.

All energy in Mingyu's legs felt like vanishing totally. His stomach was filled by lots of emotion—mostly anger to himself, that he felt sick. He wasn't sure if he could support himself to stand straight and walk properly. Why did he even pick up a fight with you and vomit hurtful words, that you can't bear with him anymore?

"You see, there are some of your stuff here, and I should give it back to you but it's a mess right now. I'll have your stuff delivered to your house tomorrow."

Eventually Mingyu went down on his knees, still crying.

Wonwoo just shouted your name again. "Coming!" you exclaimed.

“What are those?” he asked between his sniffles, rather in horror as he noticed a box filled with various things. What he saw there shook him even more. 

Confused why he suddenly talked about anything else, you looked at the box as if it was nothing. The only thing visible to your eyes was an old scarf that Wonwoo unintentionally burned one day. So you assumed it was just a pile of useless stuff he found in your house. “I don’t know. Wonwoo has been decluttering the whole day. I think he’s going to throw them away.”

Mingyu’s heart sank again. How can you not see what was in that box? A snow globe he got for you when he traveled to Japan. A couple bracelet that he made it himself. Mini photo frames that had him and you in the pictures, smiling so happily. There were still other small stuff that he noticed which were gifts from him. And you said so easily that they were going to end in a dump.

"Mingyu, please?" Squatting down to be in the same eye level with him, finally you looked at him in the eyes, hoping that he would get it that him leaving was one thing you were expecting at the moment. "If there is any other way, I would look for it. But if it means I have to cut Wonwoo off, I can't. I hope I have made myself clear, Mingyu."

"There must be some other way and you don’t have to cut Wonwoo off. Let's look for it, together. Please?"

Shoulders shrugging and head tilting slowly at your side, you looked unsure with your brows furrowed. "I don't think so, Mingyu," you said, shaking your head. "You said it yourself, that we were a mistake."

"That— I don't mean—"

"Mingyu, you should never repeat the same mistake. You don’t want to get hurt for the second time."

[johaerys-writes]

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 39: Rebel Song

The gang returns to the war-torn Orlesian countryside, and the welcome they receive is far from warm. Banter and action, this time with even more terrible jokes because Sera has come with :’D

Read on AO3! Or read from the beginning

Tristan rubbed his eyes with a yawn. The steady rocking of his horse and the thick, humid heat was making him sleepy. His backside wasn’t at its best either, admittedly: they had been riding for the better part of the week, and this day was already drawing near its end.

The journey through the Orlesian countryside had been everything that Tristan had expected, and worse. So, so much worse. His advisors had warned him that things would be different from when he had last been to the place, but even their expectations had been inaccurate, by a fairly large margin.

He and his party had followed the Imperial Highway for as long as they could- the only road, really, that was still accessible to travellers for the most part. Most other great roads, as the various Inquisition agents at the outposts they had stopped along the way had informed them, had been closed off by the barricades set up by either Gaspard’s or Celene’s armies, or were unsafe for small groups to traverse. That, too, was new: the number of outlaws and bandits had increased tenfold during the months Tristan had been away- and it hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing the last time, either. Last time around it had been bands of Freemen roaming the land- this time, it was men and women that evidently had even less than the deserters from the armies to lose and preyed on whoever was poor or desperate enough to travel the countryside alone without arms or protection. They were vicious, but cowardly, never taking on large or armed groups, and swore no allegiance to anyone at all.

Which raised the question: where were the Freemen?

“There haven’t been any sightings in weeks, Ser,” an Inquisition scout informed him, when they’d stopped for the night at an Inquisition camp just past Lydes. “After word has spread of your victory in the Emerald Graves, most of their camps were deserted soon after. Some say that they’ve returned to their homes, those who still had one, while others claim they have all moved out of the plains and gone to the West, where there are still empty places for them to settle, and no one to come after them.”

“The West?” Tristan had asked the young woman in curiosity. “There’s nothing past here at all, and all western roads lead to the Badlands. Even the Freemen that are left cannot be that desperate.”

The scout had simply shrugged.

It didn’t make much sense to Tristan- but then again, not much of what the Freemen did made sense to him. For the next few days, as they steadily trudged along the Imperial Highway, alongside throngs of refugees and the occasional merchant caravan that was still bold enough to brave the war-torn countryside, they kept passing by abandoned camps, or the old manors and watchtowers that had been claimed, rummaged, and then left to ruin by the Freemen. Apart from the occasional travel weary and worn down infantry division from either Celene’s or Gaspard’s armies, whose officers merely pretended to keep an eye over the towns and villages that had been claimed during the war, the only other people they encountered were beggars or tired and scared men, women and children with dirt smudged faces and clothes that were about to fall off their skinny shoulders.

Orlais really, really couldn’t get much worse than this.

With a sigh, Tristan straightened on his saddle, rolled his shoulders, tilted his head this way and that. Travelling on horseback all day did not agree with him, and the devastation all around him did nothing to lift his mood. He could feel his stomach churning and his head throbbing ever so slightly as the rays of the setting sun fell straight into his eyes. The only thing that settled his upset stomach on those days was his fine Antivan brandy, though he had been careful not to drink too much. He needed to stay alert, and the humid heat that surrounded them like a blanket took most of the edge off all by itself. Tristan could already feel his eyelids drooping, and it wasn’t even nightfall yet.

Well. One swig couldn’t hurt much, could it?

From atop his bay gelding, Dorian shot him a curious look when he saw him tipping his flak over his lips. Tristan swallowed the mouthful of brandy, then raised his eyebrows at him in question.

“How come you still have enough of this?” Dorian asked him in a low voice, steering his horse so he was riding beside him. “I thought you would have finished it days ago.”

“I’ve been careful with it,” Tristan replied as he carefully screwed the flask’s cap shut. “I only brought the one, and we still have weeks ahead of us. What?” he asked when Dorian blinked.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just… impressed that’s all.”

“Are you? I don’t know whether to feel proud or concerned that you think my resolve so brittle.”

“Brittle?” Dorian chuckled softly, “Not at all. I don’t know anyone that’s more stubborn than you are, in fact.”

“Except for you, you mean?” Dorian rolled his eyes, and Tristan grinned. How he liked to tease him. His lips that pursed ever so slightly, his eyebrow that lifted just a bit, the rueful little glances he shot him out of the corner of his eye before he looked away. How he managed to be irresistible even when irked, Tristan could never understand. It made him want to tease him all the more.

“In any case,” Tristan said casually, slipping the flask back in his coat pocket, “if you wanted a sip, all you had to do is ask. I’ve seen how you keep eyeing my flask.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “Trust me, amatus, your flask is the last thing I keep eyeing.”

“Yeah, amatusss, your ‘flask’ is the last thing he’s been eyeing,” Sera snickered from the next horse over. “The first thing he’s been eyeing is your—”

“Sera,” Dorian hissed in warning. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare.”

“What? I was only going to say his arse.”

Dorian turned to glare at her, outrage writ all over his face. Sera burst out in wicked, high pitched laughter that made several of the weary travellers that were trailing alongside them on the Highway stop and gawk at them. Tristan bit his lip down hard to stop himself from laughing as well, but it wasn’t long before Dorian’s murderous glare was directed at him.

“You, too?” Dorian asked him pointedly.

Tristan gave him an apologetic little smile, still trying to stop himself from following Sera’s example, who seemed incredibly amused at having riled Dorian. “I mean,” he said in a strained voice, trying his best to keep a straight face, “she’s probably right. You’re not very subtle.”

Dorian clicked his tongue and punched him lightly on the shoulder, just as Sera slapped her thigh and cackled even more loudly. She laughed until her brown gelding whinnied in protest to her jerky movements and tossed its head back, causing Sera to almost lose her balance.

Dorian sniffed in disdain, then kicked his horse forward, his back straight and his head held high in defiance.

“Oh, come on—” Tristan laughed, following him with Almond. “It was just a joke!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Sera cackled after them both. “I call them like I see them!”

“Not listening!” Dorian replied with a wave of his hand, his golden rings glittering in the disappearing evening light.

From atop his horse, Iron Bull let out a deep, throaty chuckle. He stood almost two heads taller than everyone else, sitting tall and straight on the enormous draft horse Master Dennet had managed to find for him. It was a tough and calm mount, slow but sure footed, meant to draw carriages and plough carts rather than being ridden, but there had been no other horse suitable for the large Qunari.

It’s no Asaarash,  Iron Bull had said when he saw it, but it will have to do. Better than my own legs could, anyhow.

“With all the racket you three keep making," he said, "I’m surprised no Freemen have come crawling out of their hideouts to attack us. I would kill for some entertainment right now.” He winked at Solas, who was riding beside him on his chestnut coloured hart, “Get it, Solas? Kill for entertainment?”

Solas let out a small, exasperated sigh. “Yes, I do get it, Iron Bull. Unfortunately, the jest continues to be lost on me, as it has been the last five times you said it.”

“Ah, that’s ‘cause none of you can appreciate a good joke,” Bull laughed with a dismissive wave. “I tell you, those guys are just hiding in the bushes, waiting for us to lower our guard.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Want to bet on it?” Bull grinned.

Solas only frowned and looked ahead of him.

After this, they rode for a while in blissful silence, with Dorian’s annoyed pout relenting only after Tristan promised not to tease him again, then proceeded to peel an apple for him and carve it in the shape of a duck with one of his sharpest knives. It didn't look particularly good, but the apple was still sweet and crisp, and a soft blush had crept up Dorian's cheeks when he'd accepted it, so Tristan couldn't complain much.

Darkness fell all around them, and with it heavy clouds gathered overhead and a thick layer of mist covered the earth. The terrain changed slowly and steadily, with the tall grasses giving way to small thickets dispersed through the expansive land, and the flat plains rising in low, rolling hills. The air was so thick and humid that it made Tristan’s clothes stick to his skin, and the horses’ movements slow and sluggish. It wasn’t long before a droplet fell on his head, then another. Soon, raindrops were gliding past Tristan’s collar and the openings of his boots, warm like sweat.

“We’ll need to find shelter soon,” Tristan told them all, squinting in the half dark. The people travelling alongside them had dispersed with the approaching dusk and the rain, until it was just the five of them on the wide, hard packed dirt road. They should have reached the Inquisition outpost close to Verchiel a good two hours before, but the barricade that had been set up by Celene's soldiers at the Fleurcolline passage had greatly delayed them. Now they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, and with not much hope of reaching the outpost until dawn came.

“We can’t ride for long in this weather," Tristan said, gathering his coat around him, "and it’s dangerous to travel after dark.”

The rest of his party didn’t seem overly pleased to continue travelling like this either, with Dorian muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped himself in his leather overcoat, and Sera’s gelding tossing its head back in annoyance whenever the elf fidgeted on the saddle, which was a near constant occurrence. Bull and Solas seemed far less perturbed by the foul weather, yet no less tired.

“Shall we set up camp?” Solas asked, looking around.

“If you can find a decent spot,” Tristan grumbled. There was open space all around them, with only a few thickets of miserable trees that would probably not provide any shelter from the rain. The ground, too, was covered in mud, and he didn’t relish the notion of sleeping in a soddy tent, or having a miserable dinner of hardtack and cold cheese. Even Dorian’s and Solas’ magic couldn’t keep a fire going for long if there was no dry wood to be found.  

He let his gaze wander off into the distance, and was rewarded when he saw flickering lights, not too far ahead. A glance at his map confirmed his hopes; there was a small town nearby, one that the agents of the Inquisition they had last met had said was amongst the last standing this side of Orlais.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Sera asked when Tristan drew all of their attention to the village. “On we go, chop chop! Been dying for a mug of ale for hours.”

Solas glanced at the lights warily. “Do you know who is in charge of this town?”

“No one, as far as the scouts knew,” Tristan answered. Horville, as the place was called, used to be a crossroads town, meant for merchant caravans to stop and rest their horses and riders. Most of the buildings were inns and shops, with only a few houses for the people who worked there. After the war had broken out, it had been primarily frequented by the infantry and cavalry divisions that crossed the plains from time to time, staying only for a short while before moving on to the next post. It had been intentionally kept as a neutral ground of sorts, with no one army claiming ownership over the small town and its businesses.

Solas’ expression darkened. “No one that we can see, perhaps.”

Tristan considered Solas’ words for a few moments. Perhaps it was somewhat reckless to walk into a town that they knew so little about, but in the end his hunger and exhaustion seemed to overcome his suspicions. Dorian and Sera were none too quick to agree when he suggested they all ride to the small town in search of an inn to spend the night. No matter who was in charge of the village, they would hardly deny some weary travellers some rest, especially those with coin to spend. Right?

“Who are you, and what business have you?”

The guard standing behind the oak and iron-wrought gate had a gruff voice and an ever gruffer appearance, only partially illuminated by the lamp he held before his face. It was half hidden by his dark hood, but Tristan could still see the unkempt beard and the pock marks on his cheeks. Despite his rough appearance though, his cloak seemed sturdy and well made, and the leather handle of his sword hilt freshly worked. Business was going well in Horville, it seemed.

Tristan pushed his own hood back, and in his best Orlesian, he said, “We’re travellers, looking for shelter from this rain. A warm meal, too, and some drink to wash it down. Are you not going to let us in?”

The man squinted at them. “Don’t get many travellers like yourselves around these parts. Not anymore.”

“It appears you have now.” He let his lips curl in a cold smile, willfully ignoring the man’s hand that was already straying to his sword. His own hand slithered within the folds of his coat, pulling out his coin purse. “We’re not going to be any trouble. I assure you.”

The gold coin that Tristan tossed in his direction flipped in a small arc, catching the light of the lamp before it was snatched in the air by the guard’s practiced hand. The man’s beady black eyes widened when he beheld the coin, then his gaze flicked to each one of them in turn. After a few brief moments of intense scrutiny, he sniffed and jerked his head to the side, signalling for the men behind the gates to let them in.

“Keep an eye on your beast,” he said gruffly as their horses passed him by, shooting a baleful look at the Iron Bull’s horns. Tristan turned to glare at him, but the man only sniffed again and spat on the ground.

“Sour tit,” Sera mumbled under her breath, glaring daggers at the man over her shoulder. “Should have looked at his own ugly mug.”

“Pay him no mind, Bull,” Tristan told the Qunari in a low voice as he led his horse down the narrow cobblestone street. “Most of these people have never seen a Qunari before in their lives.”

“No worries, Boss,” Bull said, his lips widening in his usual, easy smile. “I’ve heard worse while sparring with the boys. These guys have probably seen their share of trouble. Can’t blame them for being cautious.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[thiswasinevitableid]

Have you seen the post going around about the zoom class with one guy and his full streamer setup vs the guy whose just in the middle of the woods? I know you have a prompt list rn but I’m just saying there’s a sternclay fic in there somewhere...

It is! Here you go!

Life is better with order. Or, at the very least, with some attempt at patterns, organization, or consistency. 

Which is why Stern has carefully arranged his desk, his chair, and his equipment in the background. Streaming as a hobby and a side hustle means he has some (okay, a lot) of practice making his digital self look just right. He needs to make a good impression on the first day of the semester.

Unlike some people. 

“Holy shit man, are you in the woods?” Duck, the guy in a “Monongahela National Forest” shirt, grins as he asks this of another student whose screen consists of a forest clearing, a log, and the name “Barclay.”

“Yeah. Hang on, lemme finish getting the phone balanced.”

“Dude, that’s like, way better than my background” this comes from Jake, in front of a poorly rendered half-pipe. 

“Can’t really take credit for it, just where I ended up.” Barclay sits down, and Stern gets his first look at a man so tall he barely fits in the frame, with a short, coppery beard and an honest-to-god man-bun.

Damn west coast schools. 

“How is your battery going to last long enough for class?” Stern leans back in his chair, certain Barclay will have “battery trouble” halfway through as an excuse to cut out early.

Barclay smiles, lifting up a small green and black rectangle, “solar battery. Not everyone needs fancy gadgets for school.” He aims a pointed stare at Sterns set-up. 

“It’s important to have the right equipment.”

“Whatever you say, man.” He lifts a cup of iced coffee into the frame, sipping it through a straw. It’s the picture of relaxation, as if nothing is wrong in the world. As if this is all totally normal. 

Stern wants to reach through the  screen and slap some sense into him. Preferably while he’s shirtless.

He chalks that thought up to not having gotten laid since last December and pulls up his note taking software as Professor Chicane enters the room.

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

Private Chat 9/20/20

Duck (he/him): I timed it, we’re already at ten minutes of arguing.

Indrid (he/him): I know Ned enjoys their demonstrating the different modes of rhetoric, but this is a bit extreme.

Duck: To be fair, Joe does seem kinda uptight.

Indrid: Yes, but Barclay should know by now that zeroing in on him during our practice debates only results in this.

Duck: Yeah. Oh shit, are they for real wrapping up you think?

Indrid: We can only hope. Skype me tonight?

Duck: Of course, sugar.

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

What is Joseph’s problem? He’s got a set-up that would make a pro-vlogger jealous, what looks to be a well-lit apartment with some houseplants and the kind of coffee-cups that are weirdly lacking in personality. His clothes are immaculate, his hair slicked back as if he;s in a business meeting rather than an online class in the midst of a chaotic world. So why is he acting like everything is terrible? And why is he always arguing with Barclay, when there are plenty of other people in the class to disagree with?

“Now” Mr. Chicane’s voice booms through the tiny speaker on his phone, “if you all had a chance to read over the instructions, we will begin the first mock debate. Do we have any volunteers?”

He and Joe raise their hands at the same time. Mr. Chicane raises an eyebrow.

“While I appreciate your eagerness, gentlemen, I would like two other volunteers this time.”

That’s fine by him. It’s not like he likes listening to Joseph get all wound up and passionate, making everyone on the call sit up and take notice of him. It’s not as if he enjoys being the center of his focus. 

Nope, not at all.

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

Private chat 10/11/20

Jake (he/him): Dudes, did you see who got paired up on the final project?

Aubrey (she/her): Chicane must be getting them back for all the times they’ve hijacked discussions. 

Duck (he/him): Man, for their sake I hope it works out.

Indrid (he/him): This is going to be a disaster.

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

“Are you out of your mind!” Stern is talking before Barclay’s video is fully on. 

“Nope. And you don’t have to yell, my speaker works just fine.”

“You’re outside, for all I know there’s a ton of ambient noise.”

Barclay, phone obviously in his hand as he walks through the trees, groans.

“And don’t try to derail this; how can you possibly suggest I come out there so we can do the project in person? We’re supposed to be limiting travel and gatherings.”

“Look, Joseph, we both agree that trying to generate our own cryptid hoax is the best way to demonstrate all the techniques Ned wants us too, right?”

“Yes” he hides his answer behind the rim of his coffee mug. 

“We’ll do a way better job if we work in the same space. And if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t had any human contact in three weeks; all quarantined up, unlike whatever you’ve been doing in the city.”

He sets the mug down with a thunk, “I haven’t been out in a month. And before that was only for one grocery run and a hospital visit.”

“Uhhh-”

“I cut my hand cooking. So. Yeah.”

Literal crickets chirp, courtesy of Barclay’s end of the line, as the silence stretches on.

“If it helps, it’s real easy to stay isolated here, and I’ve still got utilities and everything.”

“And you’re not subsisting only on MREs or granola or something?”

A deep chuckle, the kind that makes his skin prickle, “Nope. That much I can promise.”

Stern glances around the studio apartment, clean and empty. 

“What’s your address?”

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

Look, all Stern is going to say is that he’s seen and read plenty of stories that start with a cabin in the woods and none of them end well. Which is why he’s still sitting in his car, parked beside a beat-up Subaru, rather than knocking on the door. 

Breathe in, five counts. Out for four. Repeat four times. 

Waiting for him on the door is a note.

Joseph,

Key under mat, make yourself at home. 

Barclay. 

He brings in his bags (a matching set of three, a gift from his aunt last year), placing them in the tiny guest room. It’s not much more than a bed, a dresser, and a tiny table. But there’s a heating unit below the window looking out into the woods, which is pretty pleasant. He’ll be keeping the blinds closed at night, though; he hates the thought of something being able to look in. 

Stern’s busy evaluating the laundry closet when the front door opens. 

“Hey, glad you found the place okay.”

Barclay stands in the doorway, a basket full of fruit in one hand. He’s remarkably kempt for a man living in the woods and that, combined with the deep voice being even richer in person and the fact Stern has to actually look up to meet his eyes, has him stumbling for words. 

“Your directions were very thorough. Thank you. Um. I put my things in there, should I, um-”

“I can give you the grand tour.” The taller man sets the basket on the dining table, notices Sterns puzzled expression “there’s a piece of property about a mile thataway that has orchards they don’t really use. They let me come and pick whenever i want, less for them to clean up.”

Barclay keeps up a steady monologue as he shows him the cabin. The lower level is the living room and dining area, a kitchen which leads onto the back deck, Sterns room, and a bathroom. As the cabin is A-frame, the upstairs is Barclay’s room, all dark wood and pine colored plaid. It’s as Barclay is telling him about the woodpecker that sometimes nests in the eaves that he realizes why he’s talking so much.

He’s nervous. 

Neither of their nerves improve when he gets to his last point of order. 

“Uh, so, the bathroom downstairs is only a half-bath.”

“So...if I want to shower, which I do, I have to come up here.”

“Yeah.” Barclay scratches the back of his neck, “sorry. I don’t, like, sleep naked or anything so we should be fine.”

“Disappointing.” Stern sighs, only to sail past sarcastic and land face first in sincere. 

Barclay blushes, then shrugs, “Trust me, after the first night, you’ll see why.”

Stern does. He’s warm as long as he’s in bed, but the moment he ventures into the bathroom in the middle of the night he’s cocooned in cold. 

The morning brings cinnamon and coffee on the draft coming under the door. He plods into the kitchen in search of caffeine, finds Barclay in an pron, the counter covered in trays of dough. 

“Morning!”

“Morning. Coffee-”

“Right there, sugar and stuff’s in the cabinet above it, cream and such is in the fridge.”

Blessedly, there’s heavy cream to be found, and soon he’s sipping from an enamel mug emblazoned with a UFO made of veggies. 

“Is this all for your job?” Barclay mentioned he was a cook during an icebreaker. 

“Yep. Way it works is I bust my ass baking once or twice a day, and Thacker, who works with Mama at the Lodge in town, comes and takes them over there. Normally I’d just be there but, well, y’know.”

“Everything is on fire? Figuratively, I mean.”

“Sometimes literally too, but yeah.”

As he’s turning to grab his clothes and head showerward, Barclay adds, “You a scone man, coffecake man, or a cinnamon roll man?”

“Coffeecake?” It comes out hesitant. 

“There’s no right answer, man.” Barclay sounds amused, “what do you want?”

“Cake, definitely.”

“Cool. I’ll save you a slice.”

Once he’s showered and on the wi-fi, his day runs like normal; one lecture, reading, a research paper, his initial half of their project, and working either his copy-editing or transcription job in between, and planning his next stream. Barclay comes and goes, stops now and then to see if he needs anything, leaves a sandwich in front of him around dinner time. Then it’s time to crawl under the covers and dream of a less-stressful world. 

The next day, just before one, Barclay taps him on the shoulder. 

“Ready for class?”

“Yes…” He gestures to his laptop and notebook. 

“C’mon, join me out here, it’s way nicer, and we can share the phone.”

“Barclay, it’s  a nonsensical way to attend class, just stay in here with me! Even this set-up has to be better than the woods.”

“This set up. You mean my house?” All the friendliness leaves hi voice. 

“Yes. Look, I agreed to come out because you’re right, if we want to ace this thing that’s worth sixty percent of our grade, this is the place to do it; I don’t have to go along with the whole self-sufficient woodsman aesthetic while I’m here. “

“Yeah, I’d say you’re pretty far from self-sufficient. See you in class.” 

Stern stews through the entire session, but where he’d usually find something Barclay says to latch onto, he instead gnaws on himself. Why didn’t he just go with him? Why snap at someone who’s been nothing but nice since he got here?

Whatever the answer, how can he fix it?

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

Barclay tromps back through the twilight, done with his second class of the day. If Joseph is in the main house, he plans to ignore him until tomorrow morning. That all goes out the window with the clank of dishes from the kitchen. 

Peering in reveals the other man bent over, pulling a casserole from the oven. He waits to announce his presence until Joseph is out of the danger zone, enjoying the view as he does. 

“Smells good.”

Blue eyes flick over to him as Joseph opens drawers, “it’s mostly cheese and chips, so I’m not surprised.”

“Servers are in that one.”

“Thank you. Nacho pie?” He scoops some into a bowl, holding it out. 

“Sure. Uh, look, Joseph I-”

Joseph holds up the server, “Wait. Before you apologize I, um, I wanted to say I’m sorry for my comments. And for being so...me-ish.” He sighs, staring at the utensil in his grip, “I’ve always been a little bit tense, tried to be polite and effective and friendly in spite of it. The last six months made that harder to do. I don’t love it when I can’t be organized, when normal systems go out of place. But that’s no excuse for being rude to you, even before you invited me here. You’re just so...you’re always so calm and relaxed, like nothing was wrong and I just honed in on that way more than made sense. I’m sorry.”

“If it makes you feel better, I kinda did the same thing. You’re always so put together, it looked like you had this organized life in the midst of this whole shitstorm. I feel lik everything is slipping away, like my world is just this cabin. I mean, I assumed you were seeing friends in the city, while I haven’t seen Mama in person since April. So” he sets the bowl down, rests his hand on Joseph’s shoulder, “I’m sorry too.”

Joseph laughs, softly, “turns out we both had failures of imagination, huh?”

“Yeah” he runs a hand over Joseph's back, “now come on, this dinner’s not gonna eat itself.”

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

“You sure you don’t wanna wear the bigfoot costume?”

“Positive. Besides, it suits you.” Joseph finishes styling the fur on the head of the costume to look more realistic, “I just hope we get this done before that storm comes in; as mush as the rain would add to the mood of the scene, that’ll be hell to dry and you’ll be miserable. So, go lurk over there while I finish up getting the camera settings where they need to be.”

“Yes sir” Barclay pops the head on, leaves crunching as moves to his appointed tree. He smiles as he watches Joseph fiddle with the camera; things have been so much better between them these last two weeks. They trade off cooking dinner, study side by side, and watch movies or play games in the warmth of the heater. They have a similar sense of humor and taste in books, and are tidy to boot.   Joseph’s even come with him to listen to lectures in the woods, the pair sharing a thermos of coffee under the astonished gaze of their classmates. There’s just one problem. 

Barclay’s buried crush is now blooming in every direction. Animated, argumentative Joseph was attractive. Joseph, in all his moods and mannerisms, is devastatingly enchanting. He’s come close to telling him this, but the other man is his guest and also only here for another two and a half weeks, so a confession is setting himself up for heartbreak at worst and awkwardness at best. 

He almost blew it last night when they were washing dishes (Joseph scrubs, Barclay dries and puts away). 

“Last one.”

“Thanks, blue eyes.”

“What was that?”

“Uh, blue eyes? Like a, uh, a nickname?”

Joseph laughs, “Sounds like something from a Raymond Chandler book. I like it.”

On the plus side, if Joseph thinks it’s just a nickname and not a pet name, maybe Barclay can keep using it.

“Are you ready?’

He sticks up a hairy thumb and calls, “you know it, blue eyes.”

That same laugh as Joseph takes up his position. Maybe it’s the weird film over the costume’s eyes, but Barclay swears he sees a blush.

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

Stern trawls through the search results. Their video is getting some traction, with two cryptid hunter sites claiming it’s credible footage. He’s making note of how the information spread, which threads lead to belief and which to doubt, when Barclay calls from upstairs. 

“Joseph? Little help?”

The other man is in the bathroom, and when Stern knocks he says, “Think the pilot light on the water heater went out again, all I’m getting is cold water. Can you go relight it?”

“Sure.” He gets to the stairs then, stops, “where’s the key to that closet?”

“Huh? Oh, shit, right, hang on” Barclay says at the same time as Stern’s “don’t worry, I can find it.” 

Which is why the instant he turns back into the bedroom is the same instant Barclay steps out of the bathroom, blue towel around his waist. 

Any blood that doesn’t head south goes instantly to Stern’s cheeks. 

“You okay there, blue-eyes?”

“It’s completely unfair how good you look without a shirt.”

He clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Idn’t ean to ay at out oud” The mumbled explanation makes Barclay smirk. 

“You like this, should see what’s under the towel.”

The unusually bold statement from Barclay kindles his own confidence.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, big guy.”

“Who says I won’t.” Barclay sits down on the edge of the bed, nonchalant and leaning back on his hands, “got plenty of time to make good on them.”

“We literally don’t. I go back in a week and two days.”

Barclay toys with the lint on the towel, “you could stay. Through break, through next semester, for however long you wanted.”

“Do you mean that?”

A shy nod, “I like having you around, Joseph. Even beyond the huge fucking crush I have on you I...everything is a little better when you’re around.”

“I, um, I guess it could work. We know next semester is online too, and so is work, so…” there must be variables missing, something he’s not seeing, some reason this is too good to be true.

“You want some space away from shirtless me to think about it?”

“That’d be great.”

Barclay stands, hesitates, then plants a quick kiss on his forehead, “take all the time you need, blue eyes.”

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

Private Chat log 1/11/2021

Barclay (he/him): Did you see the look on Duck’s face when we turned up in frame together. 

Joseph (he/him): Yes. Pretty sure Aubrey yelled something about him needing to pay up. I wonder what the bet was. 

Barclay (he/him): Whatever it was, pretty sure I came out the biggest winner. 

Stern snorts, trying not to blush on camera, and leans over to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. 

[confusedgoldenflower]

There is No Glorious Purpose Chap. 2

Hello, you beautiful Tesseract-loving bastards!

I've been meaning for a long time to update but I've been having a really bad time with the whole motivation thing, and what I had first thought of doing with this fic got thrown in a wood-chipper and sunk with the Titanic... so, I'm trying to pick up the pieces and decide where I want to go with this. I also wanted to do it episodically: Chapter One aligned with Episode One and so on. That has not worked partly due to the issues of the above so, well, I guess we'll find out together!

So sorry for any grammar issues, I did my best to look it over but got too sick of staring at it over and over again in my drafts.

Small Thor cameo!

Chapter Two: You Oafs

“Yeah, well, you’re a mischievous scamp--or at least, the other you is. Been killing our minutemen and stealing our reset charges. Been happening for quite a long time….” Mobius whistled lowly. Loki nodded slowly.

“If you know me or us as well as you say, what need have you of my help?”

“Like I said, mischievous scamp. And I know what makes a Loki tick, sure, but even Sherlock needed Watson sometimes--you do know about them, right? Really fun stories with a super smart detective and his below average side-kick--.”

Loki ignored the rambling, “I agree.” Perhaps then… after… peace? “Just tell me, please… is it true that I directly led to my mother’s death?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, definitely. Thor was pissed and then he dragged you along to Svart--Svartle… anyway, the planet of the Dark Elves with Jane because she absorbed the Aether. Then you faked your death, again . There’s that ‘doing a horrible thing then getting away,’ again. But Thor totally gets you back on Sakaar with those Obedience Disks. Yeah, yeah… oh, right, you don’t know--and won’t. He slaps one of ‘em on you when you betray him again, then dials it up all the way while he returns to Asguard. For a god, you get put down a lot .” Mobius chuckled.

Loki sucked in a shuddering breath, reverently laid the Tesseract down and stood, “let us catch this scoundrel then.” He faked a smile for the agent.

“Ok,” Mobius clapped and rubbed his hands together, “what a therapy session!”

Loki had a fleeting thought of, “he must be some Midguardian fool, possibly in some relation to Thor,” before he remembered that the all powerful Time Keepers had created the oaf in front of him.

“Ya know, for the record, maybe ‘undying fidelity,’ wasn’t the right thing to say to Thanos. Just saying. But this is good! We’re gonna be a great team.”

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

“Loki,” the orange clock whined on his ‘gifted’ desk. Though still somewhat transparent, Miss Minutes was a fairly good illusion.

“Yes?” He replied pleasantly, blue hand turning the page of a magazine. His slack-clad legs were propped on the desk, fine business shoes not too far from where she stood on a rather large book. The suit replacement of the prison wear wasn’t bad, he, of course, would have done better had he access to his seidr. But it was fine for the time being.

“Are you paying attention?” The angry little clock motioned to the old Midguardian computer screen which read in that same horrible orange color:

LET’S SEE WHAT YA KNOW!

Q2. Thanos has two apples. He eats both but realizes he wants more. He goes back in time 20 minutes and eats the apples again. Does this mean the apples will not have existed in the timeline he left?

No, because time is constantly happening

The question doesn’t matter because a branch cannot change another time branch

Thanos would’ve been hungry prior because the Grandfather paradox already accounted for the change in matter before it’s move.

TVA FILE EDIT VIEW MODE HELP

Of course he was paying attention, and of course he chose not to amuse them! One order after another; feeding off of each other even. He may have bowed to Thanos but he had never kneeled. Not truly. And he clung to that remaining dignity.

“Naturally,” he returned pleasantly. She sighed.

“What happens when a nexus event branches past red line?”

“Ragnarok.”

“Come on, Loki. What is it?... Loki!”

“It is when the TVA can no longer reset a nexus event. Are you satisfied?’

“Right. And that would lead to the destruction of the timeline and the collapse of reality as we know it.” He lowered the magazine lower into his lap and took his feet off the desk.

“Yes, indeed. Are you alive or a recording? Clearly, you can hear me.”

Her big cartoonish eyes moved around, “uh… sorta both?”

“So not an illusion or projection?” He swiped at her with the rolled up magazine.

“Ah!” A small smirk ghosted his face and he went after her again.

“Watch it! Where are your manners? Oh! Hey! Quit it! That is not nice, ya jerk!” She floated and then fazed back into the computer. He gave that ugly thing a few whacks as well. She pouted on the other side of the screen.

“Trainin’ going wel--is that my jet ski magazine? Put it down, Blue-Raz.” Mobius ripped the magazine from him, swivelled to his desk then swiveled again to flop a jacket in front of Loki.

“Gear up, there’s been an attack. Let’s go.” The agent commanded. Loki picked up the jacket. It unfolded from the collar, back facing him. “VARIANT” was emblazoned across it.

“Ah,” was all he commented as he moved to slip it on before his handler got any ideas while he was led down hallways. Norns knew the agent would have plenty of examples in his own life up to that point, much less his future or other variants.

“Good. Yeah. Smart.” Mobius commented with his fists in a move reminiscent of excited warriors as said human stopped to look back at his charge and the newly bestowed article of clothing. B-15 gave her usual droll stare. Her minutemen stood around her in a group.

“ C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant.”

The “actually dangerous” sort, Loki groused silently. Then Mobius opened his mouth.

“Here's the deal. When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant. And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include shape-shifting, illusion-projection, and my favorite... Duplication-casting. Illusion-Projection.”

Mobius gestured to him when applicable in his little speech, also projecting other variations of Loki with his TemPad--all assumedly pruned likewise. Variation 8: L6792 looked exactly like he would now had he’d been afforded the luxury of keeping his clothes, but also with slight differences that led Loki to think that that variant must have been favored royally in some way he was rejected.

Variation 8: L1247 looked like a Midguardian sportsman happily holding a trophy of some kind. Variation 8: L6792 was an atrocity of him and the Hulk combined. Variation 8: L8914 was more strongly built with more prominent hair curls in their longer hair. They stood like dignitary with their hands behind them. Variation 8: L7803 looked like an oaf. A full, half-face helmet emblazoned with the horns in the wrong direction and even a piece of turf over the shoulder like a cape. Oh, dear….

“No.”

“...Huh?”

“Those two powers are completely different, although, I am unsurprised you cannot comprehend it.”

“Loki, what are you talking about--look, I’ve dealt with more of you than you’ve dealt with yourself.”

“The truth remains that those powers are not the same.”

“Then, please, Loki, tell me.”

Loki smiled easily and supplicatingly at the contempt and patronization, just like talking to anyone in Asguard.

“ Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure.”

“Ok, take a breath. Noted. We’re gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki here”

B-15 still looked unamused and dubious.

“Whoever the Variant is, we haven’t been able to find them so I’m the Sherlock and he’s my Watson. Look, this’ll work.” Mobius said to her. She side-eyed Loki, Loki who had nothing but a branded jacket to protect himself with.

“And so my agency in this is to… tell you how brilliant you are.”

“Go outside, maybe touch some grass.” Mobius returned with a tilted smile under his twisted nose.

“Ah. I shall protect myself with your wit, then, should this superior being choose me as a next target.”

Mobius chuckled and mimed “talky-talky” again.

He passed through the portal B-15 had summoned, closed in on both ends by TVA agents. Immediately, he could feel his seidr swell within him again and redonned his Aesir glamor. The choker chafed as he glanced around, and he found himself much preferring the biting metal of the chains he was usually imprisoned in. The place they passed into was a celebration of old Midguardian times, further back than what the TVA modeled itself after, in direct juxtaposition of the modern technology with the humans held in their hands, and had used to both get to the location and create their sometimes elaborate costumes.

“Apex of nexus signature located, ma'am,” a minuteman said as they walked.

“Allow me to ask you this, why do we not travel to the moments prior to the Variant’s attack, to when they arrive.” Loki asked as the tent grew ever nearer.

“Nexus events destabilize the time flow. This branch is still changing and growing, so you gotta show up in real time. Did you watch any of the training videos you were supposed to?”

The minutemen twisted their batons, the ends glowing a shade that seemed to haunt the TVA as they neared.

Loki chuckled a laugh that was never and would never be heartfelt, “my dear Sherlock, you should know I am quite the scholar. But these ‘reset charges,’ they ‘prune’ a branched timeline which ‘allows time to heal all wounds.’”

Mobius made an odd gesture towards him, “he’s on it.”

Within the dark, torch-lit tent, limp minutemen laid about the displays which held real weapons and a large, stepped seating construct. Their bodies were splayed out in obvious struggle. Unactivated batons laid around as well, a few clenched in hands. A helmet bearing “C-20” laid, discarded within the scene. Loki hovered a hand over one display as he passed and they grouped around the scene.

“So he's taking hostages now?” B-15 spat.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before,” Mobus returned.

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her,” a minuteman remarked.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.” B-15 returned.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 ordered, her minutemen immediately moving to obey.

“Let's go. She's right.” A peon echoed.

Mobius concurred, “Come on.”

“Wait….” Loki said, brow knit as he studied the scene.

“What do you see?” Mobius asked as he stepped away from the entrance.

“I see wolf’s teeth.”

“Yeah, ok,” Mobius motioned for him to hurry and Loki got brief satisfaction that the human had no idea what he was talking about.

“‘Where there are wolf’s ears, there are wolf’s teeth,’” Loki echoed one of many sayings he heard during his childhood, especially before bed. He swallowed down the thought of a certain story about blue, darkly lined and vicious monsters.

“Ridiculous, really,” he laughed hallowly, “my people are gullible fools by nature. You remind me of them; the Time Variance Authority and the great gods of Asgard. One and the same. Drunk with power, blinded to the truth. Those you underestimate will devour you, and we’ve just walked into a wolf’s mouth.” He raked his eyes across his audience as he spoke, kneeling down in front of the helmet and stroking his hand in the grassy turf. The minutemen seemed to falter ever so slightly, B-15 rolled her eyes, and Mobius stared.

A TemPad beeped, “two units, he’s wasting our time.”

“No, step outside this tent and my other Variant will devour you,” Loki stated plainly. It was easy, nearly in a terrifying way, how he fell into the usual routine he had had with his oaf of a brother and his lackeys, who, similarly, never headed his words.

“We need to look for C-20.” B-15 repeated.

“Come on, Loki, we don’t have time for your lies.”

“Oh, I am not lying, and out of curiosity, when you find them, will you prune us both seeing as you will not have any need of me?”

Mobius sighed and gesticulated like a frustrated middle-aged Midguardian, “he’s lying.”

Loki’s head turned to the side minutely, in a ghost of a head shake. His stomach turned the way it usually did when he knew things were about to--.

“Aghr!” A minuteman had exited and had been consequently slaughtered. A brawl broke out just outside the small entrance. Innocent event-goers made exclamations outside as well. Batons revved, and B-15 and Mobius stalked to the opening. Loki walked behind them.

“The charge!” Someone yelled. The fight continued. A cloaked figure with amazing skill in combat fought them all while a crowd of civilians formed around them. There were a few smiles and jeers, no doubt thinking it was all a show.

“On behalf of t-... the Time Va-...Variance Authority, I hereby-... arrest you for-... for crimes against the… Sacred Timeline, V-… Variant!” B-15 huffed between blows.

“Ergh!” A minuteman got pruned. Loki’s cloaked variant said nothing, only continued fighting. He backed back into the tent, took aloft a jousting lance, broke it half and reemerged. For all their combined ability, the TVA was losing. The glow of pruning swung around arbitrarily. He dipped into the fight and caught his counterpart’s cutlass in the cross the two ends of the lance made.

“Pardon me, I mean no intrusion,” he said calmly to his other self, noticing a similar collar of metal that had adorned his own garments. He could feel the other’s tension as they reclaimed their sword and focused solely on him. It proved more of a poor decision than anticipated and he found himself holding his breath in pain more than he’d wanted. The wood was also useless and even though both it and he put up a valiant fight, his other self had taken hold of a baton along the line. His weapons were useless as they continued to share blows. He lowered the stubs of wood and opened his arms. The glowing end came close.

Then it wasn’t.

The grunting that followed was B-15 and Mobius disarming the variant of the baton and nearly restraining them.

“About to redline!” A remaining minuteman nearly yelled. B-15 and Mobius shared a look. A door was opened and Loki found the cloaked figure disappearing into a flurry of gold.

“What in the Rolling Stones was that, Blue-Raz?!” Mobius had him hard by the shoulder of both his jacket and dress shirt.

Loki blinked once then made eye contact with Mobius, “what ever do you mean?”

“He was about to kill you!”

“Prune,” Loki politely corrected. Mobius gawked.

“I kno--what were you thinking?!”

“Your only use of me is to capture me, I was assisting in that.”

“By letting you be killed by yourself?!”

“A mere distraction to the larger goal, Mobius.”

“And it almost worked,” B-15 piped from somewhere beside them. Her voice had dropped a tone or two.

“Yeah… almost had ‘im too.” Mobius admitted, letting Loki go. “But seriously, man, what was that?”

“Nearly fulfilling my role, as you yourself stated.” Loki replied pleasantly.

“We also barely pruned it in time and got outta there with our lives.” B-15 stated.

“Yeah…” Mobius rubbed the back of his head with his other hand on his hip as he stared at the floor. I was not lying, Loki wanted to say. To push. To scream. But he instead focused on the ache in his back. It should be fine in a matter of a few more hours given the time he had for recovery before the Tesseract opened the portal in New York and he was knocked from the Mind Stone’s, and thus Thanos’, direct influence.

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

Loki subconsciously touched his hideously blue palm as he waited outside of the judge’s office for his handler. The doors were decorated with sandglasses. How quaint .

Mobius finally emerged, stalking right past him. Loki fell in step behind him. He realized such only after he’d done it.

An angry finger wagged in front of him as they walked, “one thing, Loki, that’s all I asked.”

“The ‘talk’ from earlier.”

“No! Catching the superior version of yourself. We lost guys out there today-- good guys!” Good, yes, ‘good guys’ who also happened to have erased who knows how many people from existence.

“There would have been a lot more had I not been there and, likewise, a lot less had I been heeded.”

“And there you go again. That narcissism! Do you ever stop? Get tired of yourself?”

Loki didn’t respond as Mobius stopped and whirled on him, only gave him his schooled expression.

“I’m on thin ice ‘cause of you. I saved you, remember that? Didn’t that mean anything to your Asguardian standards or personal morals or anything?”

“If you recall, I was about to meet that fate regardless as I helped you bring in my Variant. I also have little doubt you will delete me if I survive assisting you in their arrest either way.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy? Ok. Well that other you is worse, remember that. He’s killed a lot of people--more than you. You’re just a little blue ice runt, crying in the cold.”

Loki chuckled and didn’t even need to bite back the urge to correct this “Loki expert.”

“Ever get tired of playing this same old part?” Mobius continued bitterly, “I’m getting sick of your constant need for sympathy, Loki!”

“Mobius?” He asked after allowing a few minutes to pass.

“What?” Mobius mumbled.

“This other Variant is after reset charges, why not supervise another ‘pruning’ in case we find the correct branch they target. How many happen in a day, usually?”

~~~@%*^*%@~~~

Loki almost choked when they entered into an Aguardian hall. The was beautiful and towering and held stones and architecture he could rewrite the books about. For one blissful second, he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of his homeland--or the place he was raised. His glamor fell over him unconsciously.

Then he had to play follow-the-leader with the TVA peons. He rounded a large corner and immediately knew how many steps it would take to get to his room, his mother’s and Thor’s.

“Loki?” A familiar voice boomed. Loki tensed. Mobius cast him a “good luck” glance and mumbled, “I’ll be back for ya, Blue-Raz”

Loki had the urge to run him through followed by his brother who should not—it didn’t matter, the timeline would be reset. The Thor bounding up behind him would be pruned with everything else… why did that hurt? He turned to face his adopted sibling.

“Loki, it is you? Isn’t it? I mean you look horrendous in that getup, but it’s you!” Thor held his hands out in what could only be described as reverence. But the esteemed Asguardian Prince was wearing dirty Midguardian clothes and had a beer gut to match. How? Barely any time had elapsed between that moment and when they were facing down in New York.

“It is me but what happened to you, brother?”

A shadow came over Thor’s face. His hands lowered and he reached out to Loki.

“Tell me the truth,” he whispered, “did you just escape the dungeons?”

Loki held his gaze for a few long moments. The timeline will be reset. There is no harm in it.

“No, Thor, I never—this me never went to the dungeons. Never came back to Asguard.”

Thor hissed an inhalation of breath as his eyes widened.

“Thor what happened to you? Why do you have mismatched eyes? Where is your armor? Or Mjolnir?”

“Oh, Loki! Loki. Loki. Loki.” Thor’s voice trembled with false laughter and an emotion Loki didn’t know, “what--you look horrendous. What in the Nine Realms are you wearing?”

“Thor, it is good to see you, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time for a chat.” Loki returned, clipped. Redline grew ever nearer.

Thor’s face fell again, “Loki… just tell me you’re alive. That I didn’t fail you on the Statesmen--Thanos is dead now, I-I killed him! I-... I killed him… I avenged you.”

“Oh, Thor,” Loki found himself saying as Thor’s eyes shined and tears spilled onto his cheeks. He allowed himself to be squeezed in the other’s arms… and found it to be the best hug he’d ever received… or the only hug….

“Thor… Thor, are you listening?” Thor only sobbed into his shoulder, holding Loki up against his beer gut and off of the actual floor.

“Y-yes?”

“Very soon, this timeline will be reset which means you will have never seen me here. So tell me, what happened to you?”

Thor whined in the back of his throat and plopped Loki back down, it was just hard enough to make pain spike up his nearly healed spine.

“I--You--Thanos--.”

Loki laid his arms on Thor’s biceps, squeezing gently, Thor shuttered then took a breath and smiled fondly at him. Fondly. Thor never did that. What sort of--how is he not the Variation?

“So after Ragnarok, Thanos… had all the Stones and killed half of what was left of Asguard including you. I wasn’t able to--I’m sorry.”

“Just tell me, Thor, I am right here.”

“Then I was found by the space morons and went to Nidevelir to forge Storm Breaker because Hela broke Mjolnir before Sakaar--Ragnarok happened because of her. Then we battled with the Avengers in Wakanda and… I didn’t go for the head! How could I have not gone for the head?! Thanos snapped and…. It was horrible, brother. Absolutely horrible. The whole universe. And so many extinctions followed and more tragedies. I-....” He hung his head. “I tried to drown my worries like the ‘oaf’ I am….”

“I thought your annoying little group was the ‘Avengers’ not the ‘Alcoholics.’”

“... Ha!” Thor slapped him on the back. The statement seemed to have brought about the intended reaction.

“Yes! Of course! So five years later, we found him and I slayed him! But Tony and Scott found a way to move through time to get the stones to undo it all, and so we did, and we succeeded! But still, Thanos haunted us and we had a final battle--which we won!” Thor seemed to have noticed himself that he was about to go into one of his long winded stories of victory, and cut it short.

Then his smile abated and his beard fell, “Loki, Steve and Tony lost the Tesseract in 2012 to you…?”

“Yes, yes, that would be me, brother.”

A gasp of breath as Thor readied himself for the most bone crushing hug in the universe was all that was afforded to Loki.

“Thor,” he wheezed slightly, “I know I was not kindest to you but must you kill me prematurely?”

“Oh, Loki! I never threw you off the Bifrost, and I-!”

“Charge is set, we gotta boogie!” Mobius interrupted, jogging over.

Thor allowed the interruption if only to interrogate him, “and who are you? How and why do you command my brother? If you are with Tha-!”

To Loki’s astonishment, a few electrical charges emanate off of his brother.

“No, time to talk. Put Loki down We gotta get outta Dodge.”

Thor’s grip tightened, “Thor, just do it!” Loki groused. Thor did. Mobius opened the portal.

“Sorry, big guy, big fan but I need your Buddy. You ever think of trying Old Spice?”

“Ah--I just--Loki just returned to me as he always does and you expect me to just give up?!”

“Thor, do not follow us, I would rather not see you get deleted.”

Heavy feet crossed through the yellow threshold and left 2023 Thor in 2014 with a gaping mouth and tear stained cheeks.

“So no Loki!” Mobius announced as he clapped his hands together, “that means we gotta get to work!” He went on to walk at a brisk pace. Loki trailed after, blinking back the stinging in his now red eyes.

“I was of the understanding that is what we were doing,” he put a hand over his throat while he cleared it.

“I need you to go over each and every one of this Variant's case files, and then, give me your... How do I put it?... Your unique Loki perspective. And who knows? Maybe there's something that we missed.”

Seeing as how you are so hypocritical, I would be surprised if you had not missed anything. Honestly, “all you Lokis are the same” yet in the same breath, “no Loki variant is exactly alike.” I think as I do.

“You are the expert, I trust your judgement” Loki said instead.

“That's why I'm lucky I got ya for a little bit longer. Let me park ya at this desk. And don't be afraid to really lean into this work. Here's a good trick for you: pretend your life depends on it. I'm gonna get a snack.”

For all his countless hours spent in not only the Grand Library, but others around Asguard and the other Realms, he found himself having little interest in sifting through all the instances in which that other version of him overcame the great TVA and triggered more animosity against themselves--and all other Lokis.

“Any motive, Sherlock?” He asked dryly.

“That’s what you’re for!” The agent chuckled, poked at his chest and walked away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the agent walk away then turned his attention to the paperwork. The pattern was known to begin with but became… inane the more pages he flipped through: nexus event, dispensed TVA agents, the team goes silent, they’re found dead and without the reset charge, Mobius, the expert, is called in for investigation and then the branch is reset before redline.

One Loki… only one to best their happy little teams. I was bested, but I also have extenuating circumstances of the past year. Without Thanos’ interruption, could I have?... Yes, I fought alongside Thor and his foolish troup of warriors, I would have been able to exact my own damage. For a ‘timeline protection force,’ how are they schooled in combat?

“Pardon me,” he tapped the librarian’s bell. She turned to him with a nonplussed expression.

“Could you show me to the combat regimens of our dear agents?”

“No.”

“Infographics?”

“No.”

“Battle end-games?”

“No.”

“Well, you have been very helpful, thank you.” It was still a library after all and he more than knew his way around one seidr or not; his mind was still intact--somewhat intact and that had always been his greatest weapon.

So he sat back down at the table to form a plan of action, so to speak, of how he could find the files he wanted in the fastest and most assured way. But, he still had all the paperwork of this other Loki, dripping in red. Oozing. Gushing. Like Thor’s cape as yet more enemies were put to ruin under his brother’s sheer might. He never envied that red; never thought he could own it or have it become him… yet this other version had jumped--leapt into that pool of blood and ended all who stood in their way. Incapacitation would have sufficed. Has sufficed in innumerable cases. He’d both saved lives of his comrades and stupid brother, and saw the end goal in such a way.

He gasped and leapt up, running along the railing of the library.

“Mobius--.”

“No, I said, ‘don’t bother me until you’ve read all the files,’ and I know you don’t read that fast.” Mobius set his Js\osta down with a hard thonk .

“I have, but unimportant--.” Loki slid into the seat across from the agent in the cafeteria.

“No, read every file pertaining to the Variant.”

“The answer does not lie in the files, it lies on the timeline!” Mobius gave him a dangerous look at the slight raising of his voice. Loki took a breath.

“Look,” Loki began again with his arms fanning over the table, “they’re hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which one? There’s, like, a million?”

“Take Ragnarok, I assume you are familiar?”

“Yeah, total destruction of your weird coin planet and most of its people because of your sister Hela. I’m sorry.”

Sister? Hela? Thor mentioned her--unimportant now.

“Yes, well, that recent visit with Thor got me thinking…?”

Mobius regarded him but eventually sighed and sat back, making a small gesture, “yeah, sure, ok.”

“Nexus events happen when someone does something that is not meant to happen--.”

“A bit more complicated but yeah.”

“These can culminate into entire other timelines--.”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.” Loki did his best to ignore the interruptions. He forced animation into his movements as if trying to explain it to Thor. That was best, pretend he was explaining something that now seemed so basic to the warrior.

“Alright! So this is Asgard,” he plundered the agent’s salad bowl. Said agent gave sad push back. Loki continued.

“I could travel back to Asgard preceding Ragnarok and do whatever I wished; switch crowns, resoil linens, topple some columns. I could destroy the Rainbow Bridge.” He grabbed the small salt shaker and started pouring some in. Mobius mourned his food. Loki was not fed.

“None of this would matter. Not if I set fire to the courtyard. Or even killed the Allfather!”

“Why--Lo--God, Loki!”

“Excuse me,” Loki greeted Casey kindly at an adjacent table, “are you finished with this?”

Casey, who had his bunched napkin thrown on his plate in clear sign of being finished looked from his crumpled juice box to Loki, “you!”

“Yes, very nice to see you again,” Loki took the drink container and poured it into the salad, secretly relishing how the agent utterly deflated.

“Due to Surtur!” Loki finished.

Mobius rubbed his hand down his face, “what am I lookin’ at?”

“Apocalypses, Holmes.”

“Loki, you just apocalypse my lunch, I wanted to eat that!”

“You want my other Variant.”

Mobius leaned onto the table, “cut to the chase.”

“That is how they have escaped you for so long; no matter what happens, an apocalypse negates anything that would otherwise summon the TVA.”

“Oh, not bad. Not Bad. Hey, so, how do you weigh over five hundred pounds?”

That was a “jackknife”--as Midgaurdians may say--that he did not expect.

Mobius raised his hands, “hey, I’m not judging, just curious.”

“Focus, Mobius, please.”

“Ok, ok. My salad. Destroyed.” Another despondent hand waved at the bowl.

“I can show you my theory is true.”

Mobius laughed, “I’m not letting you go.”

“You come with me, naturally,” Loki pushed.

“Well, I’ve had enough of your troublemaking for one day.”

“No one has to know unless I am correct--which I am.”

“TVA agents can’t just go running around anyway. Waltzing into the White House would be a Nexus event.”

You are not listening!

“Pompeii, for instance, you Midguardians like talking about that catastrophe, we could go there!”

“Pompeii?”

“Pompeii. Everyone died and that town was not even the worst hit of the eruption of Vesuvius.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Talk, talk, talk. Oh, you’re so smart!” Mobius sneered and wiped his mouth with his napkin despite not having spilled anything much less eaten enough to make a mess of his face. No food for either of them it seemed.

“If I go along with this and you stab me in the back, you’re getting erased. Capische?”

“Understood,” I am fully expecting that regardless.

[thinkyoureholy]

Vox Populi [1]

[so I decided to combine the first and second chapter together😬]

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Pairing : Park Seonghwa / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Fluff, Smut, Post Apocalypse/ Dystopia! AU

Words : 4.4k

Previous Chapter. - Next Chapter.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

-3rd Person P.O.V ; 2135-

Soldiers, hundreds of thousands of them all fought for their lives, for their country. So many were blinded by the vile words spewed out by the crooked presidents or prime ministers that ran their oh so beloved country, while there were some that didn’t believe in this war but had no say in whether they wanted to participate or not. Their country’s laws are set in stone, normal law abiding citizens had no power to argue and were many times forced to follow the laws they don’t agree with. Many signed up willingly for this war, others were drafted, every country involved sending thousands of men and women to die for a war that would lead to nothing in the end. 

A woman cried out as she lunged at the man that had shot at her hand, forcing her to let go of the gun she was using. All she had was a knife while he was still fully armed but that didn’t stop her, she was fighting for her life. The man looked at her with wide eyes, her words not registering in his mind, the language she was speaking foreign to him but one thing he could understand was the murder in her eyes. She was out to kill. As shaken as he was at being thrust into this war at such a young age he knew there was only one thing he had to do to survive. It was either kill or be killed, and he wanted to make it back home alive. So with a cry of his own he began to fire just as the woman got within arm’s reach and in the next second she dropped dead at his feet. The man, no, the child, a boy no older than seventeen stood above her, terrified of what he had just done. He looked around, bewildered, not knowing what to do next.

“Get moving, soldier!” A woman that was about the same age as his mother yelled out to him, her uniform the same as his, “Move if you want to live!”

She grabbed a tight hold of his vest, pulling him along with her to get him to move. He stumbled over his own feet but her tight hold refused to let him fall. She grit her teeth as she dragged him along, ignoring the pain that spread across her side, her blood seeping through her clothes. She could have easily left him behind and gone to camp on her own but seeing him standing in the middle of a battlefield, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car she sprung into action before she could stop herself.

“Do you know how to get back to camp?!” She asked, shouting over the sounds of guns firing and people crying out in pain.

He didn’t respond, still shellshocked. She cursed under her breath, knowing he’d be helpless on his own. She thought back to her own family back home, the laughter of her youngest son ringing in her ears. Her eyes welled up with tears, the blood loss already making her light headed. She knew she wasn’t making it back home but if she could save this one boy then that’d be enough for her. So she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and dragged the boy behind her to camp, her wish to go home to her children thrown out the window.

……

“Sir, we’ve lost too many soldiers. We need to bring them home so we can regroup, think of a better strategy.” The general urged the secretary of defense, the president sitting there in silence.

“We’ll just do another draft-”

“I don’t want any more children! The youngest one I just saw was sixteen! We’re sending them out there to die when they haven’t even properly experienced living!” The general shouted, losing his composure.

“Then what is it you suggest we do, general?” The president asked, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to suggest we surrender and back out of this war entirely?”

“Sir, there’s no way we’ll win this war anymore. When it first started yes, we had a big chance of winning but now? We’ll be buried alive.” The general argued, his voice softer but still firm.

“We’re not backing down, General Scott. We’re the most powerful country in the world and if we back down-”

“Sir with all due respect the power we once held means nothing now.” The general cut him off, trying not to lose his composure once again but if they continued to insist he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold back for.

“What if we could turn the tide, general?” 

The general furrowed his brows, confused, “How?”

“Secretary, how many missiles can you get ready by this afternoon?” The president asked like he was asking about the daily value menu at his favorite restaurant.

“I can have them all ready within the next hour.”

The president nodded, opening his mouth to speak but the general beat him to it, his voice panicked as he spoke, “You’re not seriously saying you’re going to nuke them. The radiation will kill us all! Is your pride really more important than the millions of lives you’re prepared to kill?!?!”

“If it means we win this war then I’ll do whatever I deem is necessary.” The president spoke without a hint of remorse in his voice.

The general stared at him with wide eyes, mortified. He opened his mouth to continue arguing but he shut it just as quickly. Grinding his teeth he tore off the patch on his arm that displayed his rank. Along with that he took off his hat and threw them down onto the table in front of him.

“I won’t be a part of this any longer. Find yourself a new general, I’m going home.” 

The two watched him leave in silence, not bothering to stop him. Without a word the president nodded at the secretary, giving him the go ahead to get the missiles ready. What the general didn’t know is that these missiles weren’t toxic...but the damage they would inflict on not just the overall population but the planet would be catastrophic. It would take centuries for humanity to get back onto their feet and even then  it would never be the same as it was before.

-Y/N’s P.O.V : 2650-

I groaned, writhing around on the ground at the pain that bloomed from my back. I looked up at him through narrowed eyes, slapping his hand away as he held it out to help me up. I heard him chuckle softly under his breath. He crouched down in front of me and ruffled my hair and I slapped his hand away again.

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be a sore loser. You’re the one that asked me to train you.” He said, reaching out to grab my arm, helping me sit up.

I shrugged out of his hold, rolling my shoulders back as I tried to alleviate the pain, “You could’ve at least gone easy on me.”

He smirked, placing his hand on my shoulder but this time I didn’t move to shrug his hand off of me, “If I went easy on you then you wouldn’t learn anything.”

“But I’m your daughter!” I whined like a child, a fond smile replacing the smirk on his lips.

“And because you’re my daughter I don’t hold back. Anyone trying to kill you won’t hold back and you need to learn how to defend yourself properly.” He explained, helping me to my feet. 

He looked like he wanted to say something else but a voice coming from our right stopped him, “You’re as ruthless as always, Marcus.”

We turned to look for the source of the voice, already knowing who it was. Park Junhyuk accompanied by his son Seonghwa came up to us. Junhyuk had a gentle smile on his face while Seonghwa merely looked around, watching the others in the room spar. I could see the fascination in his eyes, knowing just how much he loved to fight. I find it a bit unfair that he not only was a genius but he could also hold his own in a fight. I chuckled under my breath at seeing the look on his face, drawing his eyes to me. The moment he met my gaze a soft smile tugged at his lips. He sent a quick greeting to my father before making his way over to me.

“Training?”

“More like getting my ass handed to me.” I grumbled as I dusted myself off.

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest, “It's rare to see you lose in a fight, serious or not.”

I scoffed as I shoved at his shoulder lightly, “Shuddup. I’d like to see you win against my dad in a fight. He isn’t the commander of our guard for nothing.”

Even though I was grumbling there was a bit of pride in my voice. My father was the best fighter, the best hunter, the best shooter, the list goes on and on. It was a mystery to me why he wasn’t the one leading us but when I did ask him that one time curiosity got the better of me he simply told me he wasn’t built for politics. He was more than content training his fellow officers, hunting outside of the walls, and keeping the peace.

“Oi Y/N!” 

My head immediately looked for the source of the voice, already knowing who it belonged to. Just the sight of him had me sighing heavily. The moment he reached me he slung his arm over my shoulders, hugging me close to him. I grit my teeth at the gesture, unaware of the annoyed look that crossed Seonghwa’s features for a second before it vanished when I elbowed Nikolai in the gut.

“What do you want, Nikki?” I asked, slightly irritated but not enough to be genuinely angry with him.

Nikolai was a few years older than I was, one of the few ‘Russians’ in Liszto. He grew up a few doors down from us so we had known each other for quite a long time. I didn’t particularly hate him but he always found a way to leave me wanting to wring his neck with my bare hands every time he talked to me. But, as much as he annoyed me I was still fond of him, he was like that older brother I never had.

“Wanna spar? I have some free time and I’m just itching to kick your ass.” He taunted, rubbing his hands together with a shit eating grin on his face.

At his taunt my lips curled upwards as I rolled my shoulders, “Oh ho, you’re on. Get ready to eat your words, Volkov.”

He chuckled as he slipped out of his jacket, throwing it over a nearby chair as he rolled his own shoulders. He began to jump in place, loosening up, the grin never falling off of his face. I rolled my eyes at the giddy look on his face but I was also excited to spar with him. The only one that could get me on my ass within seconds was my father and the only one that stood as an equal with me in terms of skills was Nikki, all our officers were nothing but child’s play to me. Nikki and I had spared a fair amount of times and not once had they ended with either of us being the victor. Just as I was about to get into it I stopped, suddenly remembering that Seonghwa was standing right there and we were in the middle of talking when Nikki interrupted us.

“Ah...Seonghwa I-”

Seonghwa stopped me before I could continue with a shake of his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “Go ahead, I’ll still be here when you’re done.”

I beamed back at him, my excitement returning. I turned on my heel and got into the makeshift ‘ring’ with Nikki. The moment the other officers saw us standing in the ‘ring’ a chorus of murmurs were heard before they gathered around. 

“C’mon, Nikki. I’ll let you throw the first punch since you’re the one who challenged me.” I taunted, fixing the fingerless gloves on my hands.

He let out something that was a mix of a scoff and a laugh, the sound airy but he offered no reply, instead he took a step forward. He brought his hands up and I did the same. Just before it all started I slowly exhaled through my mouth, relaxing. Nikki circled, trying to get around me to get me from behind but I met him step by step, not allowing him to. Nikki threw the first punch, one I easily dodged. He threw another and another and I dodged and blocked every one. If I were anybody else I would think he’s not much of a fighter but I’ve gone up against him enough times to know he was just warming up.

We went on like that for a few minutes, that is until I swung for the first time but not with my arm. I bent down low and swiped at his legs. Nikki quickly jumped back, my leg narrowly missing him. Staying low to the ground I charged at him. As soon as I got close he brought a fist down. I dug my heels into the ground and pulled back, grabbing onto his wrist as I did so. With a smirk I pulled on his arm, swinging a leg at his stomach but I never made contact. He swiftly blocked my kick, his hand grabbing onto my ankle.

“Your kicks are as annoying as ever.” He huffed out, his grip on my ankle tightening slightly but not enough to hurt.

I smirked, my eyes shining brightly, “They’re reserved solely for you.”

And with that I jumped up, kicking at his chest with my other foot. He instantly let go of me, stumbling back as he gasped for breath. I didn’t give him much time to recover as I charged at him. I swung at his legs, successful in kicking them out from under him this time. He groaned as he landed on the ground but he didn’t stay down. With his arm he swiped at my legs. And just like him I landed on the ground. Before I could even recollect myself he was hovering over me. He brought his fist down, intent on landing a punch to my face but I moved out of the way just in time. I grabbed onto his wrist and brought my legs up, squeezing his bicep with my thighs and forced him to the ground. Pushing his shoulders and torso down with my legs I hyperextended his arm, laying flat against the ground. I felt him claw at my legs but I refused to let go. The next thing I knew I was being lifted up from the ground, no longer feeling the hard surface. 

“No way…” I murmured under my breath. 

Knowing what he was about to do I loosened my grip, trying to get away but I wasn’t quick enough. Within the next second he had slammed me back down onto the ground, the air leaving my lungs. My grip all but disappeared as I clawed at my chest, gasping for air. I withered on the floor, mistakenly rolling into my stomach. I realized my mistake when I felt him on me, his arm wrapping around my throat from behind, putting me in a chokehold. I had already been struggling to breath with being slammed into the ground but now it was impossible to get any air with the chokehold he had me in. I clawed at his arms but that only had him tighten his hold, a breathy chuckle falling from his lips. 

“I think this’ll be my win, doll.” He teased in a strained voice. 

I clicked my tongue, continuing to claw at his arm but it was no use. I wasn’t going to get out of this easily. Just as I was about to lose consciousness I saw some shuffling from my right. I looked over to see Seonghwa had taken a few steps towards us but stopped the moment my eyes met his. I gave him a glare, silently warning him to stay back. He hesitated but didn’t move to take another step. I could tell he was worried but Nikki and I had never given each other injuries that couldn’t be taken care of with a bag of ice and some rest. Gritting my teeth I dug my nails into Nikki’s arm, bringing my head forward and snapped it back. Nikki cursed loudly, his hold on me disappearing. I brought my arms up and propped myself up, pushing him off of me. I turned around to land the finishing blow and he went to do the same. We froze at that exact moment, my fist inches from his face and his inches from my ribs. Seconds passed before we each broke into a smile.

“Ah...I think you broke my nose with that headbutt.” Nikki groaned out with a chuckle, wiping the blood that had flowed out of his nose.

I rolled my eyes and scooted over to him, grabbing his face in my hands. I moved his head from side to side, inspecting his nose to see it was in fact crooked. I frowned, feeling guilty that I actually broke it. I moved my thumbs to the sides of his nose, mumbling an apology under my breath before snapping the cartilage back into place. 

“I thought we’re not supposed to break anything…” He whined, pulling my hands away from his face.

“I’m sorry.” I said under my breath but flicked his forehead lightly, “You’re the one who put me in a choke hold! What was I supposed to do?”

“Tap out!” He cried out dramatically with a pout, gingerly touching his nose, “You’re ruining my good looks.”

“Oh please, you're pretty enough that a crooked nose won’t do anything damage to your dating life.” I scoffed without giving it much thought, missing the way a small blush bloomed on his cheeks as I got up.

I held out a hand to help him up. The instant he was on his feet he ruffled my hair like he used to when we were younger and like then I shoved his hand away, punching at his arm lightly. While this was going on I was unaware of the look Seonghwa had on his face as he watched this all go down. In fact I was so busy screwing around with Nikki I didn’t even notice Seonghwa had left in the middle of it.

“That was some nice fighting skills.” Junhyuk said, walking over to Nikki and I with my father in tow.

My father had a proud smile on his face, placing a hand on Nikki’s and I’s shoulders, “They’re the best fighters I have at my disposal, though this one needs a little more work,” My father said, shaking me lightly.

“Oh c’mon, not even Nikki can beat you.” 

“No but he doesn’t give up like you do when I knock you down.” He shot back, Nikki giving me a smug grin.

I scoffed with a roll of my eyes, “There’s no point in me wasting my energy when I know what the outcome will be.” 

“I see you’re not getting the message your old man is trying to drill into your brain.” Nikki said, digging a knuckle into the side of my head.

I glared at him as I shoved his hand away from me, Junhyuk’s laugh drawing my eyes to him. Looking at him like this reminded me how much he and Seonghwa looked alike. Speaking of Seonghwa I looked around only to find that he was nowhere in sight. I furrowed my brows, frowning. 

“Alright, get going to the mess hall you two. I have a few more things to discuss with Junhyuk. Get Adonis a plate.” My father said, directing that last part to me.

Nikki saluted my father in a bit of a mocking way before slinging his arm over my shoulders and walking the both of us out. I didn’t shove him off of me this time, thinking back to where Seonghwa could’ve gone. I tried to rack my brain to figure out when exactly he left but I kept coming up empty. I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear Nikki calling out to me until he pulled on my ear, snapping me out of my stupor. I cursed and swatted his hand away, elbowing him in the gut.

“What the hell?!”

“What are you spacing out for?” He asked, rubbing at his side, “You’re gonna burn out your brain if you keep thinking so hard.”

I didn’t even have the energy to bicker with him as my mind made its way back to Seonghwa. Maybe he left after trying to step in. Was he angry that I started to fight while in the middle of a conversation with him? He seemed fine at first, he even said he’d be there when I was done. Maybe he had something urgent came up. Whatever it was I’ll just have to wait to ask him all this when I saw him again.

-Nikolai’s P.O.V-

I glanced at her from time to time as we walked, noticing that she still had that far away look in her eyes. I knew what she was thinking, she was always thinking about him. Ever since we were teenagers he’s all that occupied her mind in her free time, I hated it. I sighed heavily, knowing there was nothing I could do to get her mind off of him, it’s like she tuned out the whole world any time he was involved.

I glanced at her once more, frowning at the dirt that had smudged across her cheek. Without thinking I reached over and gingerly wiped the dirt away, the simple action finally drawing her out of her thoughts. She pulled away from my fingers, her hand grabbing onto my wrist to stop me.

“What are you doing?” She asked, clearly confused over the action.

Her words seemed to snap me out of it, realizing what I had just done. My eyes went wide for a moment, a blush coating my cheeks as I pulled my hand out of her grasp. I took a step away from her, the arm I had slung over her shoulders now falling back to my side. I opened my mouth to offer her an explanation but no words came out. She waited patiently for an answer but since I didn’t give her one she let a soft smile tug at her lips, her fingers touching the side of her face that had been smudged with dirt. She pulled back to inspect her dirty fingers, chuckling softly.

“You dote on me too much.” She said under her breath, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I scoffed as a reflex, combing my fingers through my hair as I tried to answer as nonchalantly as I could, “Well, duh. Who else is supposed to do it if not me?”

She rolled her eyes, hugging her arms to her body as a gust of wind blew past, “Careful, the ones basically throwing themselves at your feet on a daily basis will eat me alive if they hear you talking like that.”

I relaxed at her words, a little hurt by them. Sure I caught the attention of some people in this city but the one I wanted to notice me wouldn’t even so much as look my way...well at least not the way I want her to. I inhaled sharply before exhaling slowly, slipping out of my jacket and draping it across her shoulders to warm her up.

“If they have a problem with you then I’ll deal with them,” I mumbled as I began to walk towards the mess hall again.

I hadn’t even taken more than two steps when I saw him standing outside of the hall, his hands shoved into his pocket as he looked over at us. Y/N hadn’t noticed him yet, going to start walking when I reached out and stopped her, turning her around so she had her back to him. She gave me another puzzled look, about to ask why I stopped her when I suddenly pulled her into me, hugging her tightly to my chest.

“Nikki!? What are you doing now?” She asked, her voice muffled by my shoulder.

As I hugged her tightly to me I glared over at Seonghwa, his eyes glaring back. Even from where I was standing I could see his jaw clench, his hands now out of his pockets and balled into fists at his sides. I smirked at seeing the reaction I wanted. 

Y/N had pulled away slightly, looking up at me with worry filled eyes, “What’s gotten into you? Are you alright?”

I let a fond look cross my features as I pulled her into the hug again, “Nothing, I’m fine. I’m just feeling sentimental all of a sudden and I wanted a hug.”

I felt her sigh heavily, relaxing in my hold as she wrapped her own arms around my waist, “It’s been awhile since you’ve needed a hug. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me, savoring the hug as I gave Seonghwa a sly grin. I only kept her in my arms for another few seconds before finally pulled away, placing my hands on her shoulders.

“Okay, hug over, I’m good now.” I said, returning to my old self.

She laughed, shaking her head at my behavior. She still had yet to notice Seonghwa so I went on ahead, the look on my face a stern one. Seonghwa just stared at me without saying a word, his arms crossed over his chest. Just as I reached him he spoke.

“Watch yourself, Volkov.” He spat through clenched teeth.

“I should be saying that to you, Park. You and I both know who’d win if we ever fought.” I said in a low tone, giving him a once over from head to toe, a teasing smirk on my face, “ байстрюк.”

I spat that last word out with as much hatred as I could, bumping my shoulder harshly against his as I passed by.

[байстрюк = bastard]

.

[a/n : I’ll be trying to insert as many languages as I can into this but I’m only fluent in two and can barely pass with this new third one I just recently learned. I will be using google translate for the rest so if its wrong please don’t hesitate to correct me]

[hatsukeii]

hello! can i request a scenario where the reader is a manager along w/ yachi and kageyama and tsukki have like the PHATTEST crush on them but what they didnt kno is that yachi and the reader are dating bc they thought they were just Rlly Good Friends and the reader is vv affectionate? and like how would they react once they found out that theyre dating? IDK IF IT MAKES SENSE IM SO SORRY I THOUGHT ABT THIS AT 3AM HSKDJDD ANYWAYS THANK UU AND IM SORRY AGAIN

OKAY I HAD SO MANY PENDING REQUESTS AND UNFINISHED DRAFTS BUT THIS THIS IS TOO GOOD TO PROCRASTINATE ON ABHAHAH-

And DON’T BE SORRY BEBY, 3am is when our inner Voltaire shows.

Btw if you wanna be tagged in this scenario just comment or pm me!!

You guys seem to be very good friends//Kageyama x Reader x Tsukishima

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: mild swearing

Summary: Tsukishima and Kageyama decide to ask their crush out, not knowing about her own relationship status.

“You’re not asking her out, I am. She said she likes darker hair more when I asked her last week.”

“Back off you Oompa Loompa, she’s gonna be mine by the end of the month. You’re too dumb for her anyways.”

“No way in hell would she want your salty ass.”

“You wanna say that again to my face you little bitch-”

“Hey guys.”

The two boys jumped up in surprise, blushing wildly at your unexpected arrival to the gym.

It’s been about two months since THE incident. You know, the time when the volleyball team decided to play truth or dare at Daichi’s, and both Tsukishima and Kageyama were dared to text their crushes “You are less shitty than everyone else, just saying.” It wasn’t until (Y/N) called Kageyama asking why both him and Tsukishima sent her such a weird text, did the two members of the team find out that they shared a crush with their archenemy. From that day on, the two have been trying even harder to irritate and taunt each other during practice. The both of them were determined to beat the other at confessing their feelings and taking her out. This day was no exception.

“O-oh hi (Y/N), what brings you here? It’s like 7, practice just ended.” Tsukishima questioned, awkwardly scratching his head as he tried his best not to sound like a stuttering idiot.

“Yeah, it’s late, uh- you shou-should ho gome- I MEAN GO HOME.” The blond smirked as the raven haired setter completely stumbled over his own words, slapping a hand to his mouth while his face continued to burn crimson.

The tiny girl in front of them gave the two that godforsaken amazing adorable heart melting smile, chuckling angelically, before explaining. “Ah, I’m actually here to pick Yachi up, she told me she was staying behind to help clean the gym out because I had plans after school. I promised her I would pick her up at 7, would you happen to know where she is?” The two boys looked at each other, before racing to the storage closet, competing to be the one that brings the blond manager to the girl of their dreams. “You could’ve just told me where she was, but okay! Thanks!” (Y/N) yelled after them.

“Jesus Christ you tyrant king, how’d you get here quicker?” Kageyama smugly grinned at Tsukishima as he approached Yachi. “Yachi, (Y/N)’s outside, she said she was picking you up.” The blonde manager’s face lit up, dropping the last volleyball into the basket. “Oh! Oh shit, I have to go now guys, see you!” Kageyama followed Yachi out of the storage closet, purposely shoving Tsukishima back with his shoulder on the way out, earning a scowl. “I got Yachi, you two head home now, stay safe!” “Thank you so much Kageyama, you two stay safe when you leave too!” The shorter manager waved the two boys off, lacing her fingers with Yachi’s as they walked out of the gym. “Tch, let’s see who gets her now shitty glasses. I helped her when she needed it.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, letting out his shit eating smirk as he snickered. “Mhm, ho gome, very good grammar you got there. The only somewhat smart thing you’ve done is get her best friend. Sis probably still thinks you’re stupid.” Kageyama went silent for a moment, before lashing out at the middle blocker, grabbing his collar and shaking him violently. “Oi, we never speak of that again! Ever!” “Whatever you say baby dick. I’m still gonna ask her out to the festival, you’re not gonna stop me.” Tsukishima gave Kageyama a sneer, before packing his stuff and leaving the gym without turning anything off, just to piss Kageyama off. “Annoying ass shittyshima.” 

Throughout the next week, the two boys have tried relentlessly to grab (Y/N)’s attention. From secret love notes, to chocolates in her locker, to a full blown necklace. To say she was intrigued, but unbothered, would be pretty much accurate. “Hm? (Y/N)? Another love note? Who could it be? They’re getting on my nerves....” The shorter manager waved her hands, stuffing the letter back into her locker as she tried to explain to the blonde. “I don’t know who it is, but this is the third day in a row, and there’s chocolates too.” Yachi huffed out, before wrapping an arm around her. “Those scrawny ass boys better not be hitting on you!” (Y/N) chuckled a little bit, before tapping Yachi’s nose. “Even if they were, it wouldn’t matter to me.” The two of them continued to walk down the hallways, gaining occasional stares and glances along the way as they chatted.

Kageyama and Tsukishima watched from their lockers, anticipating her reaction to their love notes and chocolates. “Not even a glance?” “It’s been three days, she’s ought to be the slightest bit curious, no?” They watched as you frantically shoved the letter back into your locker as Yachi stood with her hands on her hips. The blonde then proceeded to wrap an arm around you as you tapped her nose. “Hm, they sure are close aren’t they? (Y/N)’s constantly looking for Yachi, and she always comes and picks her up if she stays until late. They’re so comfortable with each other that they even hold hands.” Tsukishima analysed, pushing his glasses up as he glanced at Kageyama, who was still completely confused with what had just happened. “How are we supposed to get through Yachi? She seems to never approve of anyone that dares confess to (Y/N). You remember Hiroyama from a few months back? He tried confessing, and ended up getting scared away by Yachi. He looked like he was about to piss his pants. He wouldn’t get anywhere near (Y/N) for weeks. I don’t wanna end up like him.” The blue haired setter recalled, slightly nervous about his plan to confess. “You know what? Screw it. I’m gonna go ask her out now.” Tsukishima jogged towards you and Yachi, Kageyama trailing closely behind him. “LIKE HELL ARE YOU ASKING HER OUT BEFORE ME SHITTY GLASSES!”

“Me? You’re asking me?” Tsukishima was now blushing furiously. “I- I just- ye- tch, yeah, I-I’m asking if yo-you wanna b-be my date for the s-summer festival.” Kageyama’s face fell. Oh god no, Tsukishima’s attempt better fail, or I won’t have a chance at all. “Oi, Tsukishima, back off. She’s not going to go with you.” Tsukishima gave his iconic sarcastic smile. “Yachi, maybe you should just let me ask your best friend out? I’ve been pondering over it for weeks, and I’m not about to let this opportunity slip. Maybe you should stop scaring guys away when they confess to her, that way she’ll actually have some form of freedom.” He slightly snarled, cheeks still completely red. Kageyama approached the three. “So, Shittyshima, you got rejected and now you’re salty about it? Told you she doesn’t want you, she’d be much better off going to the festival with me.” “Wha-” “Oh yeah Kageyama? Go back and coddle with Hinata first-” “OI YOU LITTLE BITCH WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME-” “Guys stop.” The two boys stopped their bantering instantly, now embarrassed and flustered. “I’m not going with either of you. I’m going with Yachi.” The blond middle blocker scoffed. “Well you guys seem to be very good friends indeed. Deadass the whole point of the festival is that it’s for people that want to ask someone out, at this point you two should just get married. Plus, Yachi literally scares away anyone that tries to ask you out, maybe she should stop controlling who you’re together with?” Yachi gave (Y/N) a weird look, before they both burst out laughing like madmen. 

“AHDHHDHAHAHAAH YOU REALLY THOUGHT I SCARED THOSE PEOPLE AWAY BECAUSE I DIDN’T APPROVE OF THEM?”

Kageyama raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah. What could it possibly be anyways?”

The two girls continued to cackle.

“TSUKISHIMA, KAGEYAMA, THE ONLY REASON WHY I WON’T GO OUT WITH ANYONE, AND WHY YACHI DOESN’T LET PEOPLE CONFESS TO ME, IS BECAUSE WE’RE DATING!”

What in the name of hell?

“YOU WHAT?” The two boys screamed, eyes now wide with shock.

“Yeah, we’re dating, now back off. You may be my friends, but if you do anything to my dear (Y/N) I won’t hesitate to make you piss your pants!” Yachi puffed out her cheeks, putting her hands on her hips. They continued to stare at them in shock, trying to take in all this new information. “(Y/N), you never told me that you were- that you were lesbian?” (Y/N) laughed heartily at Tsukishima’s question, taking a deep breath, before continuing to cackle. “I’m not lesbian, I’m bisexual, but Yachi’s lesbian. We’ve been dating for an entire year by now! How have you two not noticed at all? Everyone in the volleyball team knows!” The two boys looked to the ground out of embarrassment. “O-oh, I take back all the love letters I gave you, I-I didn’t know.” Kageyama mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. “Ye-yeah same, but you can keep the chocolates.” Tsukishima twirled his earphone jack around his finger in an attempt to calm himself down. “We’ll be going now, see you two later!” The manager yelled, waving them off. “What the hell just happened?” Kageyama whispered. “I think we just got rejected-” “YEAH NO SHIT WE GOT REJECTED SHITTY GLASSES.”

“HINATA!” “Yeah Kageyama-” “WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL ME (Y/N) AND YACHI WERE DATING?” The spiker went silent, before snickering to himself. “So you finally found out.” Kageyama zoomed towards the orange haired boy. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU ABSOLUTE DUMBASS!” “AHAHHA I’M SORRY BAKAGEYAMA! YOU WERE JUST WAY TOO DENSE, I HAD TO SEE WHETHER YOU WOULD FIND OUT EVENTUALLY OR NOT!” “YOU LITTLE SHIT, WHAT THE HELL KIND OF THOUGHT PROCESS IS THAT? I TALKED ABOUT CONFESSING SO MANY TIMES AND YOU NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT INFORMING ME OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP?”

“Yamaguchi.” “Hm, Tsukki, what’s up?” Tsukishima’s face darkened. “Why didn’t you tell me (Y/N) was taken?” Yamaguchi shrunk away from the blond’s tall figure. “I thou-thought you knew already? It was super obvious!” The taller boy sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I made a complete fool of myself because I didn’t know she was dating Yachi.” Yamaguchi’s mouth hung open. “Don’t tell me-” “Yes, I tried to ask her out.” “TSUKKI I’VE ALREADY TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT!” “YEAH WELL YOU REALLY THOUGHT I WOULD LISTEN TO SOMEONE THAT TOLD ME NOT TO ASK MY CRUSH OUT WITH NO APPARENT REASON?”

From afar, the two girls observed amusedly. “Hm, I wonder how Hinata’s gonna die? He was the first one to find out about us.” Kageyama was still chasing Hinata around wildly, trying to grab at his club tee. “I honestly wonder what Tsukishima’s gonna do to Yamaguchi. Poor guy. Tsukishima had his headphones on as he went through his phone, his ears still red from bringing up the issue. Yamaguchi was next to him, trying to calm him down, but to no avail. “Ahh, out of everyone, I least expected these two to not realise early on. I thought Tsukishima was good at reading people.” You stated to Yachi, laughing a bit. “I know right? I swear, that was hilarious. Did you see his face? Mans looked like that strawberry on that cake he had for lunch this afternoon! God, I would literally pay to see that face again.”

I guess the two boys now know not to hit on (Y/N) ever again.

Yesss I love this request so much oh my god thank you-

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 35

Read along on AO3 here

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This time: It has to be a Chiss.

Next time: The confrontation aboard the Compass reaches its peak.

-/

Eli - Vanto had a right to his anger, Thrawn thought, but that was as much as he was willing to let himself linger on the subject at the moment. He followed dutifully behind Vah’nya and Vanto, taking care to check over his shoulder to confirm that they were not followed through the ship. The duo moved like they were two halves of a single entity. He had never seen them work together in hostile situations beyond the bridge of a warship, and even then a Navigator’s role was limited in situations that did not require immediate departure or swift, flawlessly executed arrival.

“The control room is on your right,” Vanto said, and Vah’nya gripped her blaster tighter.

They were after the prisoners - the loyal Chiss aboard the Compass who had been detained and not murdered. There probably weren't many, only those of high political value would have been spared from the immediate slaughter once the Grysks arrived. Besides, the enemy had already murdered a Navigator simply to prove a point. Those who did not have the gift of sight could not expect any mercy.

Their main objective at this stage was to locate and secure Senior Captain Khresh. Both Vanto and Vah’nya were rather hopeful that the man was still alive. Thrawn found that unlikely, but he would reserve judgement. They had not shared the details of their plan, but it was clear that there was a plan in play. He no longer felt the effects of the chemical concoction he’d been dosed with, no doubt in part to his biology, but also the stimulant that Vah’nya had administered. However, it was possible he’d been appraised of their plan and been unable to retain the information before the other effects of the hypo had kicked in. Some of his short-term memory remained out of his grasp, hazed and disjointed. He remembered being found, Vah’nya’s too-cold hands on his face and her lips moving as she assessed his status, but there were moments that eluded him.

The entry panel beside the door was red, locked down. Vah'nya slapped her hand to the biometric panel and it flashed, then opened to her unique signature. It shouldn't have, Thrawn knew.

"Thorough," Eli drawled sarcastically, lending voice to Thrawn's thoughts, though Thrawn never would have commented aloud. His fellow Captain then inclined his head to indicate Thrawn should follow Vah'nya in. A wise defensive position, with Thrawn carrying Un'hee and not able to assist much in combat.

He obeyed the silent command. Eli shut them in the small room. Thrawn could hear his footsteps from the other side of the door, but turned back to Vah'nya. "They will be able to see who accessed the terminal on the bridge," Said Thrawn. “We will not have much time.”

"That is fine," Said Vah'nya, voice hard. “Only the first half of this plan was intended to be a stealth mission.” She pulled her comm from her belt once certain the room was secure. It was silent, but blinked to indicate the receipt of an incoming transmission.

Vah'nya investigated the terminal datascreens while her fingers flew across the console, searching for information. "I'm in," She said after a moment. "Standing by."

The channel remained silent for four seconds, before ambient sound came over the comms. The antechamber leading into the cellblock opened and closed swiftly. The subsequent blaster fire was crisp and loud, the end of the bolts giving the indication that the cartridge was nearly empty. In his grip, Thrawn felt Un’hee stir, her shoulders curling in before she relaxed again, head still limp against his collarbone.

“Open cells twenty-two and twenty-four,” Vanto ordered tersely.

Vah’nya entered the command into the terminal. “Do you need backup?” She asked.

“Negative,” He said, voice softer. “I have five crew members.”

“Injuries?”

“Nothing life threatening,” He confirmed.

“Only five?” Vah’nya’s voice rose sharply as she queued up the cell feed. She flinched away from them almost immediately. Looking over her shoulder, Thrawn saw what she had and could hardly blame the young woman for looking away, regardless of her military indoctrination. It was a gruesome sight. Typical, but wasteful. Unforgivable.

Eli’s voice was tight. “Yeah,” He said. “Coming back to you now.”

“And Senior Captain Khresh?”

“They took him and the remaining Navigator to the bridge,” Came a quaking male voice in the vicinity of the comms device. It was not Vanto.

The edge to Vah’nya’s voice could not be missed. Even though she could hear the sound of the antechamber doors being activated without the use of her comm, she thumbed the device anyway. “Navigator… singular?”

“The other three have been terminated,” Eli confirmed, opening the door to reveal the small party of rescued prisoners. He was thumbing at a pockmark from a blaster bolt that had hit his chest armor, looking displeased. His left arm had taken a glancing blow, but he paid it little mind, so Vah’nya figured it likely singed his tunic more than it had damaged him. “Navigator Ve’hikri was the first, as Thrawn confirmed. The other two,” He trailed off, listening to another voice behind him that was too quiet for Thrawn to hear from a distance. “Were also murdered to prove a point, supposedly. I suspect they were systematically executing whomever they had left.”

“Who remains?”

“Ke’hala,” Eli said gravely. “They need a Navigator to steer the ship if they plan to take it. The younger the better.” Ke’hala was barely seven years old. Thrawn considered the child in his arms, who had been taken even younger. It was predatory. It was unacceptable.

“Why waste the resources?” Asked one of the rescued crewmen. “Why would our own be so heartless as to slaughter their own?”

Eli did not smile as he deferred to Va’hnya. The Navigator’s back remained straight, and her eyes were vivid in an ethereal way - with barely concealed emotion, so out of place for a Chiss, and even more so for a Navigator. She only met the human’s gaze for the briefest of seconds before she took point.

“We need to rethink what we know about our enemy,” She said, stepping out of the control room and into the hall. “These are not Scratchlings or some ambiguous client race. They are enslaving our warriors. They are morphing their perceptions and turning them against their own.” Vah’nya’s gaze was cold, chilled with fury and determination. “They have forgotten what it means to be a Chiss,” She said. “And it is up to us to remind them.”

While Vah’nya stoked the fires of determination in their recovered allies, Eli pulled back to Thrawn’s position. He did not speak to Thrawn, but he did check on Un’hee, who seemed to respond to his hand on her head, twitching as if in a deep sleep.

“Bridge team, acknowledge,” He said.

The static of the comm was bright for just under a minute then broke, the subsequent sounds violent and muzzy with battle. “Acknowledged,” Ezra’s voice came. He was out of breath. “A bit busy here.”

“Have you made it to the bridge?”

“We’re working on it,” The Jedi hissed. The sound of blaster fire was loud, and it took Bridger a moment to continue. “We could use some help.”

“We’re coming your way now. Do you have eyes on their Commander or Khresh?”

“They’re on the bridge,” A Chiss voice called from the other side of the comm. The voice was female. “I heard them talking to Senior Captain Khresh, but we can’t get through the blast door. Enemy forces are… significant. We’ve lost two.”

“Stay strong. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Ivant out.”

After he pocketed his comm, he looked up at Thrawn. “Trade you,” He began, offering Thrawn his blaster with one hand, motioning to Un’hee with the other. “We need to take the bridge.” His voice dipped lower. “My gut says Khresh is still alive, probably to keep Navigator Ke'hala compliant. I don't know how long that will last with us mounting an offensive.”

“Your assessment is likely correct,” Thrawn acknowledged. It was the most likely course, assuming that both Khresh and Ke’hala were alive. “However, switching roles is unnecessary. You are capable of leading this offensive. They are anticipating you.”

If Vanto was surprised that Thrawn had seen through his plans, he gave little indication. "Perhaps I could," Eli supposed. He met Thrawn's eyes with all the seriousness of a senior commander. A leader. The intensity of it lit up places deep inside Thrawn that he dared not name. "But it needs to be you."

-/

In battle, the plans drafted before the battle so rarely made it to the end without serious revision, if they were not discarded entirely. Commanders who saw fit rely on an unchangeable script were easily defeated. Commanders who could not adapt often crumbled under the weight of their indecision or doubt. Only those who anticipated and reacted dynamically tended to survive battle, though even then, the odds of survival were never absolute.

The Grysks were intelligent. Their hierarchy, while still unknown for the most part, had roles. The grunts - an amalgamation of low class officers - were likely low in whatever social caste made up their society. They were trained to die with honor, to take their own lives rather than be taken prisoner or probed for information. They held only scraps of information. For while the Grysk coveted other species, asserting their claim and injecting themselves into the hearts and minds of their clients, the practice had to originate from somewhere.

Within.

Their commanders subjugated both client and lesser Grysk alike. Those who were lesser rarely noticed for how deeply they were entrenched. This was a strength - their leadership was absolute when facing an enemy. Commanders had never been reported in pairs.

It was also a devastating weakness.

Vah'nya hadn't been the one to figure it out. Eli had told her, their fingers interlocked between them, her face pressed against his shoulder. He'd mouthed his suspicions in the quietest voice possible, speaking around tremors he couldn't control, his back slick with blood from a round of torture Vah'nya had been forced to watch. It had been the tactic of an interrogation for information she had never known.

Eli had always been brilliant like that, understatedly so. Now, with Captain Mitth'raw'nuruodo on their side, Vah'nya could see how he had learned, the way the more senior captain's lessons had translated into something more, taking into account his strengths and bolstering his weak points. It was intriguing. She saw similarities in his tutelage of her, though he’d done more than copy his former mentor. Eli had made Thrawn’s lessons his own.

Going for subtlety, Vah’nya angled herself toward Ivant and Thrawn. They were conversing softly, and looked like they had been for a few moments now. She didn’t dare interrupt just yet.

"I abandoned my post aboard the Steadfast," Thrawn was saying, some part of a greater conversation Vah'nya had not been privy to. She had been checking over the rescued crew, confirming that none required intervention. They hadn't. “And what I did, after,” The Chiss met his gaze, with a look that Vah’nya considered nearly apologetic. What happened in the hangar, then. “My actions are not those of a commander one should follow.”

Eli shrugged. "I have known you-” He broke off to emphasize, “Who you really are, for a while now," Ivant said. "I know why you did it," He continued, so sure that Vah'nya swore she could feel the truth of it. His lips quirked upward, the stormy irritation beginning to clear in his eyes. “I know you just wanted to prevent anyone else from getting hurt, but you would have hurt us anyway because we care about you. I care. If you think-” The intensity of his own sincerity seemed to give him pause. Eli let the emotion wash over him, then regrouped, shaking his head. “So long as I’m around, you’ll never be alone. I’m tired of chasing after you, so stop leavin’ me behind.”

Thrawn's expression was similarly sincere, but equally as serious. He gave a deep, fluid nod as if making a vow.

Reaching around to cup the back of Thrawn’s neck, Eli deftly retrieved the tracker he’d placed on the other man aboard the Steadfast and held it out on the tip of his finger, showing Thrawn the nearly invisible, tiny beacon.

The other captain frowned at first. When he recognized it, his shoulders eased. “You are serious," He said. He did not gesture between them, but Eli seemed to catch his meaning. After all this. After the secrets, and the betrayal and the way he’d picked up the pieces only to throw it all away again.

"I just said I was tired of chasing after you," Eli said, giving the other man a small smile. “You and I both know we're better as a team.” His confidence was radiant and honest. He was like a sun, drawing Thrawn to revolve around him if only to bask in a piece of that light.

Beyond them, the comms crackled, their rescued crew talked quietly amongst themselves. The moment broke.

“But this isn’t about you and me,” Eli admitted. “Our people need you now. They need you to lead them to victory. To show their misguided brothers and sisters that a warrior of the Chiss Ascendancy is capable of.”

"And you?"

Earnestly, Eli asserted, "I'll have your back, every step of the way."

Thrawn smiled then. Not with the gleaming machinations of a master tactician, not the seriousness of a military commander. This was something different. Something that to the outsider might not have seemed much like a smile at all, but for the tiniest uptick of lips.

And yet.

Vah'nya felt the shift in Thrawn, like a tangle inside him shook loose, the conflict fading away. He straightened, and it was unlike anything she'd seen in him before. Like the weight he'd carried, the shadowy edge of grief and self incrimination, maybe even doubt dissipated.

He was not looking backwards any longer, Vah'nya realized. He'd come to terms with what he had done and who he had been, and these were his first steps coming out on the other side.

There was no hesitation as Thrawn placed Un'hee in Ivant's arms. She watched their hands catch on each other, the quick tangle and tender squeeze of fingers before Thrawn stepped back. The other Chiss’s gaze swept to her, likely displeased that she had been eavesdropping on their conversation. Ivant's eyes were bright though, and she had no doubt that Thrawn, though far more stoic, felt the same.

They had hope. She could feel its currents like a brisk wind, new and electric and bright.

Vah'nya had often wondered how it would be to have both of them teaching her sisters, helping them in tandem to find themselves and their way forward amidst the many perils of the galaxy. To have Thrawn sharpen their minds and Ivant illuminate the connection between their minds and their hearts. Here and now, she knew the seeds of that goal- Ivant's master plan - had been planted.

It would not make what they had to do any easier, but the way forward was clear.

Thrawn waded through the room and out into the corridor, taking stock of their meager troops. Vah’nya followed but Ivant remained back, probably to assert that Thrawn was in control. It didn’t last more than a minute, though. Thrawn’s piercing eyes only had to narrow upon him for Ivant to realize Thrawn wished him to be at his side, regardless of what their troops took the statement to mean.

Vah'nya inclined her head to Thrawn as Ivant approached. Ivant dipped his chin in silent approval. He wasn't the only one who had learned, she thought, but held her tongue. Instead, she asked, "Your orders, Captain Thrawn?"

-/

Eli had only been allowed to stay back for as long as it took Thrawn assess their additions. The pointed gaze he’d been given made him pause. Thrawn had really taken it to heart, what he’d said. He didn’t have time to think about how good that felt, not with Un’hee shifting in his grip as she wrestled her way back to consciousness. It hadn’t taken long for her to begin to resurface, though Eli suspected it wasn’t because she wanted to be alert. She was simply reacting to the situation’s demands.

She would need to be monitored closely after this. Though, she did settle when Eli stood shoulder-to shoulder with Thrawn. Eli couldn’t help but be excited to see what Thrawn would do.

“I require information,” Thrawn said, addressing the rescued crew members. “Who executed these people?”

“It was a Grysk,” one of the males said. None of these crew members were anyone Eli knew, but Vah’nya had not tipped him off that they were untrustworthy. Her sense for that sort of thing had been growing. She’d learned from their previous mistakes not to take any chances when it came to what her instincts told her. “They had Chiss with them, but they did not fire.”

“Did they display any signs of disobedience?”

The crew member, a lieutenant by the look of him, shrugged. “Not especially. They just seemed… flat. Soulless.”

Thrawn considered for only a fraction of a second. "I do not desire any loss of life, especially that of a Chiss. However, those Chiss wearing coveralls are our brethren no longer. I would prefer that you stun rather than use lethal force, but do not hesitate to do what must be done."

“And the Grysks?”

Vah’nya fixed Thrawn with a look, a regal confident expression from out of the corner of her eyes, and as if magnetized, he met almost immediately. “Leave any Grysks to me,” She said, handing one of the crew members her weapon. That contradiction - disarming herself willingly, while claiming she’d be capable of handling the enemy - gave Thrawn pause. The Senior Navigator continued, “I can see them in ways you cannot. Please allow me to guide you.”

Thrawn didn’t like the idea, though. It wasn’t that the entire thing was unorthodox, Thrawn never quite cared for tradition. He turned to Eli for his consideration, and was given a confident nod. “Navigator Vah’nya is more than capable of bringing them down. She and Navigator Un’hee have been capable of killing Grysks while seemingly unarmed.” Ivant regarded him, asking for trust that had long since been earned.

He’d put it together, Eli knew. Thrawn’s gaze left him and settled on a still-incoherent Un’hee. “Our captors,” Thrawn suspected.

“I will show you. There are not many more between us and our destination, but we will not make it to the bridge without at least one altercation,” Vah’nya said. Then, she addressed the group with conviction. “Allow me to show you what a Navigator is meant to be.”

[fratboyvivimatthews]

superstar - jack hughes

summary: with being drafted first comes the media tour, and a lot of time away. something you’re used to being jack’s girlfriend, only this time something seems wrong. 

warnings: sad fluff, swearing

word count: [8,190]

“You know I should be happy right now,” Jack admit eyes pulling away from yours, his forehead dropping to rest against your own. “I’m about to get on a private plane, talk hockey for who knows how many days, get to play hockey at the prospect camp, and best of all - sign my contract.” His blue eyes met your e/c again, as you cupped his cheeks in your hands. 

“But you’re not?” You asked not understanding fully. “J, this is what you’ve been dreaming about since you started skating. At this time next year we’ll be at the lake house talking about your first NHL season. You should be over the moon.” 

A soft smile graced his face while he tilted his head to press a kiss to the inside of your hand. “Yeah, and I am Y/n/n, promise. I’m over the moon, but I’d be even happier if I got to take you to Newark with me. Mom and dad are going, and they said it’s okay if you come. I get your reasoning for wanting not to, I really do love, but I want you there with me. Supporting me, so please Y/n/n you can still come with,” Jack begged a hopeful look in his eyes, but as soon as he saw you start to shake your head, it was gone. 

Sighing you offered him a sad smile. “Jack, you know I want to come with. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before college and you the NHL, but babe this isn’t my place to be,” you explained with a frown painting your face. “This is about you, not me, and it should be for you, and your parents. They’re the people who’ve been there for you through it all, I haven’t.” 

It was Jack’s turn to frown as he slowly nodded his head. “Don’t you get it Y/n? Your place is there, because your place is with me. Sure my parents have been supporting me forever, but so have you. Who was the person there for me in Minor Midget?” 

“Me,” you mumbled looking down at his dress shoes, and your high top converse. 

“That’s right you were love. Y/n anywhere I’ve been you’re there following me, cheering me on. You have been since we met and became best friends when we were five. That’s not gonna change now that I’m in Jersey and you’re at Penn State,” Jack rambled, his hands now resting on top of your own. “So this is just as much for you as it is me, and my parents. Please baby, just come with us,” he whispered, eyes never pulling away from yours. 

You opened your mouth to speak but were cut of by someone calling for Jack. “You have to go to Newark J, without me. I’ll be fine with Quinn and Lukey - hey why are your eyes watering?” Gently his head shook, and a single tear slipped out of his eye. Your thumb brushed over his cheek wiping the tear away. “J please don’t cry,” you whispered as more threatened to fall, “it’s okay love. You have all of those fans waiting for you, so much planned. Plus we’re still gonna get to talk every single night you’re gone. It’s going to be okay Jack.” 

His head nodded as the smile he held for you, and only you grew on his face, “‘m gonna miss you, that’s all.” You nodded quick to agree with him, as he was called for again but his time by Ellen. Your arms snaked around his neck so you could pull him close to you. “God ‘m gonna miss you so fuckin’ much Y/n/n. I just wish you’d come with.” 

Turning your head you pressed a kiss to his neck, trying your hardest not to cry. “‘M gonna miss you too J. So damn much, but you know I can’t. I’d feel out of place, spend time with your mom and dad for me. You can call me whenever you want, I’ll always answer you.” He nodded before pulling away slightly. 

“Jack come on we gotta go,” Jim called making you both frown. 

“I’m coming,” he called over his shoulder before giving you his full attention again. His lips pressed against yours softly before he pulled away from you. “Well I guess I gotta go,” he muttered scared to look you in the eyes as he did. 

“You better go J, or else they’re gonna be coming over here to get you,” you answered untangling yourself from him. “Hey, I love you superstar. You’re gonna have a great time there, I know it.” 

Jack leaned over grabbing his bag before throwing it over his shoulder. “I love you too Y/n/n, I’ll call you when we land.” You gave him a thumbs up scared to hear the waver in your voice as he pressed one last kiss to your cheek, before turning around and walking towards Ray Shero and the rest of the management staff. Sighing you turned around and walked towards Quinn and Luke who had watched the entire scene play out. 

When you made it over to them Quinn’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into him as the three of you walked towards the gate for your own flight. “It’ll be okay Y/n/n, I know it sucks right now, but Jack will understand why you didn’t go with. Plus you’re in good hands with us.” 

A smile cracked across your face and you nodded, “Yeah I guess I am.”

-

“He fucking met Adam Sandler,” you called throwing your phone on to Jack’s bed. “That lucky little bitch.” The door burst open and in came both Luke and Quinn concerned looks on their faces. “What’s wrong?” You asked confused as of why they were suddenly in the one place you found comfort when Jack was gone for hockey. 

“There was screaming,” Luke huffed collapsing on the bed next to you out of breath. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your eyes moved up to Quinn who nodded in agreement before dropping down on the other side of you. “But you were saying?” 

You scrambled to grab your phone to show the two boys the picture that the Devils had posted on Twitter and Instagram. “Jack got to meet Adam Sandler, and th-” You were cut off by the sound of Jack’s text tone and a notification from him. 

In the message was the same picture of him and the actor captioned: met your second favorite hockey player. games about to start. A smile broke out on your face, even if he had broken the news about meeting Happy Gilmore late.

my second favorite player? who’s my first j? well, have fun, and quit texting me! enjoy it babe:)

You were quick to clear out the conversation seeing as Quinn and Luke were looking over your shoulder to see what was happening. “Will you quit looking at our messages? God you’re worse than Jack,” you huff in annoyance locking your phone, ignoring the fact he had just texted you again. 

“You’re not gonna answer that?” Quinn asked picking your phone up from where you dropped it. “Oh look he snapped you too Y/n/n, it must be important.” Your eyes rolled as your snatched the phone from his hands. 

“Trying to hide something Y/n? Don’t want us to see something?” Luke pressed with a smirk growing on his face, a matching one also on Quinn’s. You shoved the youngest Hughes brother away from you, reaching over him in the process to grab the remote for Jack’s tv. Turning it on you pressed a button bringing up Netflix causing both Quinn and Luke to groan. 

Looking between the two you raised your eyebrows, “Something wrong boys?” 

“Yeah there is. I swear to god Y/n/n, if you put Gossip Girl on I’m gonna kill you. I don’t get how Jack puts up with it. You’ve rewatched it how many times?” Sheepishly you held up five fingers causing Luke to scoff and Quinn to shake his head. “You guys have been dating for three years, I swear that’s the only thing you guys watch on Netflix.” 

Luke was rapidly nodded his head. “It is, sometimes Friends gets thrown in there, but otherwise it’s always Gossip Girl.”  Your mouth dropped open shocked that he had ratted you out to his older brother. A smirk of victory painted his face, and you shook your head arms crossing over your chest.

“Fine we won’t watch Gossip Girl,” you sigh skipping over it on your recently watched. “How ‘bout The Office? Some Michael Scott sounds good right about now.” The two of them fell quiet and they knew you were missing Jack, and that’s exactly why they didn’t plan on leaving your side. The three of you soon cuddled up together, your head resting on Luke’s chest. You were so into the show, and bickering with the two brothers that you hardly answered Jack, or heard when he text you. 

Occasionally you’d answer his score updates, his random i miss you’s, mixed in with some i love you’s. Your responses were simple; telling you missed him too, that you loved him, a couple thanks for the updates, ended with the “i’m not the priority j. pay attention to the game”. The time must have flown by because suddenly you got a notification that he had posted on Instagram followed by a text message. 

on the way to the hotel. talk to you in a few?

of course, i’ll be waiting

“Was that J?” Quinn asked causing you to nod your head from Luke’s chest. “What did he say? Tell you to go like his new post?” Reaching over you slapped his shoulder while Luke laughed next to you. “I’m joking Y/n, what did he actually say? I haven’t heard from him like at all today.” 

“He said he’s on his way back to the hotel, and that he’ll talk to me in a few,” you explained your attention falling back on to the tv show. You laughed along to some stupid joke Dwight made trying to shake the feeling that Quinn and Luke were both looking over at you. “Do you guys wanna stay and talk to him or?” 

Luke’s body shrugged from underneath you, and you turned to see Quinn do the same. “He’s calling you Y/n/n, not us. We can talk to him another time.” Looking up you watched Luke nod his head to agree with his oldest brother. “We can stay and sa-” 

The sound of Jack’s ringtone played throughout his room, as you picked up your phone from where you set it on Luke’s chest. You were quick to hit the green accept button, just seeing his contact picture brought a smile to your face. “Hi Jackie,” you sang smiling brightly up at him. 

“Hi Y/n/n, god it’s good to hear your voice finally,” he gushed while setting his phone up so it rested against a lamp. “Hi Luke, hi Quinn. Please stop trying to steal my girl from me,” he teased referring to you still cuddled up to his younger brother. 

“Don’t worry J, we’re just here to say hi, but now she’s all yours,” Luke informed shoving you off of him. Him and Quinn both waved at the camera before disappearing out of the room, and closing the door behind them. 

Jack sighed on the other line while pulling his black tee-shirt off and throwing out of the frame somewhere. “Are you trying to give me a trip tease J? Because I hate to break it to you, I’m already dressed for bed in one of your sweatshirts and a pair of your boxers.” His laugh filled your ears, but your couldn't help but notice how it seemed wrong. Not in a bad way, but in a way were he sounded like he was sick. A concerned smile crossed your face which didn’t go unnoticed by him, but you were quick to ask him questions. “So how was your day today? The game looked like it turned out eventful.” 

He was quick to smile and nodded before picking up his phone and falling back onto the white hotel pillows. “Yeah it turned out pretty eventful,” he answered, hand running through his hair. “But yeah it was busy. I had that podcast, met with some fans, the MSG network thing, and then the game. So yeah pretty busy. What about you love, what’d you do?” He asked eyes glued to you the entire time. 

“Well Jackie, my day wasn’t that eventful, but yeah I did nothing. Worked out with Luke and Quinn and that was about it. I can barely feel my body,” you whined causing his laugh to fill your ears, and you couldn’t help but focus on the fact that it still didn’t sound right. “Watched some episodes of The Office, but nothing much.” He nodded his head and your mind started racing, thinking of the podcast he had done, then it clicked. “Hey J, are you feeling okay?” You asked sitting up to rest against the headboard. 

Jack’s eyebrows raised in confusion as he slowly nodded his head. “Yeah I feel fine, why babe?” Your shoulders shrugged and you focus back on the TV in front of you embarrassed you assumed wrong. “Hey talk to me Y/n/n, why do I don’t look okay?” 

Your eyes went wide as you shook your head no. “God no J, you looked so good in that suit last night, and on that talk show. Plus again today? Wow I can’t believe that you’re all mine.” A pink tint colored his cheeks as you rambled on. “It’s just you sound sick, you know what I'm getting at?” He hummed in response causing you to look back down at your phone to see his face. “Not only that, but you look exhausted babe.” 

“Well I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, that talk show and whatever,” he explained and you nodded your head quickly, not fully believing him. “I’m kinda jet lagged, but it’s getting better, but yeah I think I’m fine.” You could tell it was a lie as soon as it left his mouth, and you knew it was a lie because he had called you three times during the night. Each time you missed because you were sound asleep, but you woke up to one voicemail, and two texts; one being the explanation for the calls, and the second being your normal good morning text from him. 

It was safe to say you knew he wasn’t okay. “Okay well, if you say there’s nothing wrong, I guess there’s nothing wrong right?” You asked biting into his lie. He mumbled a ‘right’ and you forced a smile. “J it’s pretty late, you should try to get some sleep superstar. You got another big day tomorrow.” 

Closing his eyes he sighed. “I know, and that’s why I wish you were here Y/n/n, I could really use one of your back massages right about now.” That was another tell that he wasn’t okay, he never asked for a back massage unless something was really bugging him. “But I get why you didn’t come love, and you’re right I do need to get some sleep. A lot is happening tomorrow.” Smiling you nodded your head, proud of what he was doing, but also sad you couldn’t be there for him when he clearly needed you there with him. Now that was on you. 

“Well I guess I should let you go huh?” You asked with a defeated tone not wanting to say goodnight to him. 

“Yeah I guess you should, unless you wanna stay on Facetime until we fall asleep,” Jack suggestested with a shy smile. “If you don’t want to I completely get it Y/n/n.”

“Jack you’re crazy if you think I don’t want to stay on the phone with you. Of course I do, but you have to promise to get some sleep,” you countered with a smile of your own. You hoped this would help you figure out if he really was getting sleep or not. His pinky showed up on the screen making you lift your own. “Goodnight J, I love you. Please, please get some sleep,” you begged while plugging your phone in, and setting it on Jack’s pillow. 

Exhaustion started to pull his eyelids down, but his smile for you never faded. “Goodnight Y/n/n, I love you too, and I will. I promise.” It didn’t take you long to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing on the other line, but for Jack it was another sleepless night. 

-

Wiping the sweat from your forehead you pulled the Hughes’ fridge open looking through it for the bowl of fruit you knew was hidden in there somewhere. But not before opening up the Devils new post which just happened to be of Jack and little kids. Squealing you were quick to go through the pictures, double tapping it in the process. The smile on Jack’s face caused your own to grow, Jack and little kids had that effect on you. 

Screenshotting almost all of them, you sent them in a message to him along with a picture a picture of tears in your eyes and a bright smile across your face. 

j, are you trying to kill me? 

You knew you wouldn’t be getting an answer for awhile, but even though it hurt to think about you were okay with it. Locking your phone you went back to the mission at hand, and grabbed the tupperware of fruit before shutting the fridge door. Walking over to the island you set it down, pulled the top off and popped a few raspberries in your mouth as a text from Jack popped up on your lockscreen.  

Opening it you saw a selfie of him and a little blond haired boy both smiling widely at you. Your heart raced at the image of your boyfriend with the cute little boy, almost so much that you missed his message.  

that’s exactly what i’m doing love. this is chase, he says hi and that you’re pretty. i think he’s trying to steal you from me:/ 

well since you’re trying to kill me, i guess chase is my new boyfriend;)

“Why are you so happy? We just ran five miles,” the sound of Quinn’s voice caused you to jump and drop your phone onto the counter. “Oh shit sorry Y/n/n, I thought you heard me walk in.” 

Grabbing a grape from the container you threw it at his head glaring at him, “No asshole I didn’t hear you walk in. You don’t make much sound when you walk into the kitchen Q.” His hands shot up in surrender as he bent over to pick up the grape that had hit him, and dropped to the floor. “And as of why I’m happy even after a run, your brother is with little kids signing stuff, and he sent me a picture of one.” Quinn didn’t even need to be looking at you to know your smile was larger than life. Everyone knew how happy Jack made you, plus mixed in with little kids? You were a goner. 

“Well that explains it,” he answered  with a smile of his own before sliding up next to you. “So did he have anything else to say, other than the fact he’s with fans?” The tone of his voice caused your eyebrows to raise as you reached in to grab a strawberry. “Don’t look at me like that Y/n, it’s a serious question.” 

You shook your head no, choosing not to speak with your mouth full. “No he didn’t Quinn,” you stated mouth empty of fruit, “he’s still at the meet and greet with them. Busy man and all.” The oldest brother nodded his head to agree with you, popping a couple more grapes into his mouth. But you couldn’t help but focus on the look he was giving you. “You know something don’t you?” You questioned arms crossing over your chest. 

Quinn’s shoulders shrugged as he silently ate more of the fruit in between the two of you. Narrowing your eyes you leaned in closer to him in efforts to make him speak. Sighing he caved, “Fine I do. I know that he needs you there Y/n/n.” Your eyes rolled as you grabbed more fruit to eat. “Hey don’t get mad at me, I’m telling you what you wanted to hear.” 

It was your turn to sigh as Quinn’s focus never left you. “He looks so happy Quinn, he’s finally getting everything he’s ever deserved,” you spoke eyes staring down to your lock screen which showed a picture of you and Jack in the bathroom mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist, your back flush to his chest, and his lips pressing against the skin of your neck. “He doesn’t need me there.” Your eyes carefully glanced up to gage Quinn’s reaction who just stood there shocked you would say such a thing. 

“Y/n/n you guys have been together three years, of course Jack needs you there,” he countered making you let out a huf. “You’re the person he goes to for everything, and he may be happy right now, but god Y/n he’d be so much happier if you were there.” Your heart squeezed at the thought of Jack being sad over the fact you weren’t there.  

“How do you know that?” You whispered, pulling your gaze away from his, scared to admit you made a mistake by going back to Michigan and not going to Newark with Jack. 

Quinn grabbed your hand away from the bowl of fruit, pulling your eyes with it. “Because I just do, and I just got off the phone with him, he needs you there Y/n,” he confessed with a sad look flashing across his face. “I can’t tell you why, that’s for him to tell, but listen to me when I say he needs you there. Jack needs you Y/n.” 

You closed your eyes to stop the tears from falling, ones that shouldn’t have even formed in your eyes. Not when you had agreed with everything Quinn was saying to you. “Okay,” you mumbled opening your eyes to meet Quinn’s, “but only if you help me pack for Newark.” 

-

Taking a breath you walked into the lobby looking around for the blond you had considered your own mother. “Y/n!” Wiping around you turned on your heels to see her open her arms for you to walk into. Even if had been only a couple of days since she last saw you, Ellen had missed you terribly. Almost as much as Jack did, but that’s what happens when you’re always spending your time at their house. “Oh it’s so good to have you here sweetheart, Jack’s missed you so much,” she whispered into your ear as you hugged her. 

“Oh trust me, I know. Any chance he can he’s been texting me saying he misses me,” you inform with a large smile causing his mother to laugh. “At least we know he loves me right?” 

“Oh please, that kid will never stop loving you. I swear he hasn’t stopped talking about you since the minute the two of you met,” Ellen explained slowly starting towards the doors that led into the arena. “And that was thirteen years ago.” Smiles graced the both of your faces as you thought back to the first time you met Jack. It was a local skating rink in Boston, and he ran into you, not paying attention to anyone other than the fact he wanted to go fast. 

“All I remember is him almost crying because he ran into me,” you admitted opening the door for Ellen to walk through. “That and the fact Quinn was standing at your side laughing his head off.” Her eyes rolled as she shook her head at her oldest son. She mumbled a thank you while walking through the door, waiting for you to speak again. “Who knew running me over that day would lead to us being best friends, and now dating.” 

Ellen sighed before smiling again. “I had a feeling it would,” she admitted arm wrapping around your waist pulling you towards her. You gave her a questioning look before she responded, “Call it mother’s intuition.” You nodded your head to agree with her as the two of you fell into place next to Jim on the boards. 

He smiled over at you before taking his turn to hug you. “Y/n we’re so happy you decided to come out, Jack’s been going insane without you here. Needs someone to keep him grounded,” Jim confessed before pointing out to the ice where Jack was dressed in all new Devils gear. But Jack wasn’t the only thing that caught your eye, the fact that he was surrounded by little kids caused your heart to flutter. 

“He’s skating with little kids,” you mumbled to yourself remembering the tweet you had read, “man how could I forget that that was today.” Ellen and Jim shared a look, but let you continued to look out at the ice, more entertained by a cute five year olds than you’re eighteen year old boyfriend. “Wait,” you said pulling yourself from your trance, “is it even okay for me to be here right now?” All of the doubts you had about coming to New Jersey in the first place suddenly filling your head. “Because if it isn’t I can just go back to the hotel, and wait to see him later tonight.” 

Jim shook his head at you with a soft smile, “Y/n/n of course it’s okay for you to be here. We would’ve have invited you in the first place if it wasn’t.” Your smile made its way back onto your face having some reassurance that you could be there. “We’re going to go sit down, but feel free to stay and watch right here,” Jim informed. “But if you want to come sit down, we’re going to be right there,” he turned and pointed to somewhere to the left of you and you nodded your head. 

But you choose to stay right where you were, watching from behind the goal as Jack messed around with a little boy. Soon his arms wrapped around him so he didn’t have to step over the black buffer. God you were so in love with him, you didn’t have a word to describe what you felt for him in that moment. The way he smiled down at the boy was breathtaking, and how he spoke to him sent you over the edge, love just radiating off of you. 

Soon the drill changed, and after Jack demonstrated how to do something you found yourself glancing over to where he now stood talking amongst a couple of official looking people. Jack was standing off to the side, eyes glued to a kid in a red jersey, hardly paying attention to the conversation at hand until he heard what he wanted to hear. “Looks like you got an audience Hughes,” the guy said nudging his shoulder. 

“Yeah my parents are here somewhere,” Jack answered not bothering looking around the arena to try and find him. He thought the little kids were much more entertaining than his parents. 

The guy tapped him again, “No not your parents, there’s a girl at the other end.” Jack’s eyes snapped away from the kids to try and locate the girl he was getting told about - who happened to be you, but he didn’t know that yet. And when his eyes landed on you he swears he almost broke down into tears. “That’s your girl right?” He was asked, he had recognized you from the pictures Jack had posted, along with seeing you at the draft on Friday night. 

“Yeah that’s Y/n, that’s my girl,” Jack answered voice sounding much livelier than it had been before, “if you'll excuse me.” That’s when you saw him skating towards you, his signature smile for you pulling on his lips. “Y/n, oh my god, what are you doing here?” He asked through the glass.

You smiled before shrugging your shoulders, “Needed to see you that’s all.” Jack held his hand up to his ear, a cheeky smile replacing the old one, but it didn’t stop you from playing his game. “Needed to see you,” you called again louder this time and Jack shook his head before pressing his ear to the crack in between the panels of glass. “I missed you, you dork okay?” 

“I missed you too Y/n/n,” he admitted before turning to face you fully again, “we’re almost done here, then we’re going to lunch I think? I’m honestly not sure, but you’re going to come aren’t you?” Jack asked eagerly, his voice sounding much better than it had on the phone last night. 

You nodded your head, “That’s why I’m here J, to support you, like always.” Jack turned away from you quickly at the mention of his name. He nodded his head before turning to look at you. “Looks like superstar duties call, I’ll meet you in the lobby with your parents.” He nodded and started skating backwards before you called out, “I love you superstar.” 

As his smile grew on his face he couldn’t help but shake his head, his curls slightly falling out from his hat, “Right back at you love.” A frown crossed your face at his teasing manner before he said the three words, “I love you Y/n/n, I’ll see you out there in a few.” And just like that he had disappeared back to the group of kids who all lunged forward to try and hug him. Your smile only grew as you couldn’t help but shake your head at the scene. 

Soon the kids were making their way off the ice, Jack and the other coaches following behind them. Ellen and Jim made showed up on both sides of you, “So how was Michigan, they boys weren’t burning the house down were they?” Your attention turned away from Jack who was staring at you smiling, over to his mother who couldn’t help but interrupt your staring contest with her son. 

You chuckled before making your way towards the doors, “No they haven’t, but they did force me to work out with them. Yesterday Quinn made me go on a run, it was awful.” Your complaints caused the two adults to laugh as you walked through the door and back into the lobby. “But they watched The Office with me so it was okay, can’t complain too much.” 

They both nodded their head to agree with you, but before either of them could answer Ray Shero was standing in front of your group. “So next we’re goi-” Then his eyes landed on you and he stopped talking, offering his hand out for you to shake, “Ray Shero, you must be the girl Jack can’t stop talking about. Y/n isn’t it?” 

Your cheeks flushed red, and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Jack was talking about you to anybody who would listen. You placed your hand in the general manager for the Devils so he could shake it. “Yeah that’s me,” you said, “Y/n L/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Shero.” 

The man laughed before pulling his hand back from yours, “The pleasure is all mine Y/n, but please, call me Ray.” You smiled kindly before letting him continue on with what he came over here to in the first place. 

“Hey stranger,” Jack called causing you to focus on him, and not the conversation happening next to you. Once he got to you his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling you in as close as he could. “I missed you so damn much Y/n/n,” he whispered into your ear. You couldn't stop smiling as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. 

“Jack too tight,” you wheezed trying to pull away slightly. His arms loosened around your waist and he offered you an apologetic smile. “But I missed you too superstar, more than you’d know.” His eyes rolled as a muttered a not possible before pressing his lips to your cheek. “Okay so I was told there was going to be food, so I vote we do that first.” Jack laughed, the three adults soon joining, and you frowned, “I’m taking that as no.” 

Before you got an answer Ray was leading the group out of the lobby, Jim right by his side talking about something. While Ellen waited by you and Jack. “Come on love,” Jack said offering you his hand, “you’ll get your food soon enough.” Sighing you placed your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together. “Hey, I love you,” Jack added holding the door open for you. 

A pout stayed on your face as you pulled Jack through the door, waiting as he held it open for his mom, who you had no doubt was either taking a video or pictures of the two of you. “I mean, I guess I love you too. I’d love you even more if I got that food you were talking about.” Jack’s blue eyes rolled as he opened the car door for you allowing you to get in before following behind you, your hand still held tightly in his. 

To say what he had to do was exhausting was an understatement. It was around eleven by the time you had actually went back to the hotel, and you had no idea how Jack had been doing this for three straight days. “All I can say is that I’m happy I can finally take these shoes off,” you stated before dropping down on the edge of his bed to pull the white converse from your feet. 

Jack was still standing by the door taking his time to hang up his suit jacket. “All I can say Y/n/n is that I get to be the little spoon tonight.” Soon he was standing in front of you in between your legs, chest bare but his suit pants still on. “Don’t look so surprised, I always let you be the little spoon.” 

You shook your head with a little laugh, “That’s not what I was getting at J. You can be the little spoon, that’s fine by me.” 

“Then what were you getting at babe?” Jack asked confused, his hands coming down to grab your shoulders. “Is everything okay Y/n?” 

Humming you looked up to his blue eyes. “I’m okay Jackie, promise. It’s just, you look like you haven’t slept since Saturday night.” His shoulders shrugged, his attention going to mess with the necklace around your neck that read “jack <3 y/n” on a golden plate. “Jack my eyes are up here.” 

He sighed before taking a seat next to you. “That’s because I haven’t,” he admitted eyes running across your face to gage your react before he started to take off his dress shoes. 

“What?” You asked shocked. “Why?” 

Jack’s hand found its way to yours before he smiled sadly up at you. “Because I can’t sleep without you.” His confession caused your breathing to stop, and you didn’t know what to think. Then slowly it started to make sense. The random text messages you’d get from him while he was on a roadie and you were sleeping, the missed calls, voicemails, and of course the sneaking into his hotel room at tournaments.

Your eyes went wide with realization, and you frowned before throwing your arms around him. “Oh love, you poor thing.” You just sat there in silence, holding him while he melted into your side. “So this is why you needed me huh?” You asked remembering what Quinn had said. “You tell other people you can’t sleep without me, but you don’t tell me?” 

Jack’s head tilted upwards from its place on your chest to flash you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know babe,” he whispered as you pushed his hair off his forehead. “I just - I, I dunno,” his voice got quiet and you could see the tears well up in his eyes. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay J,” your voice was soft as you place a kiss to his forehead. “If you don’t know, you don’t know, but for right now let’s just focus on the fact that I’m here with you okay? You’re gonna get some much needed sleep tonight, and for the rest of the summer because I’m not leaving your side.” What you thought would help only caused his tears to actually fall. 

Your hands moved from their place on his back, to cup his cheeks in an effort to help wipe away the tears. “It’s not this summer I’m worried about,” he cried softly. “It’s the next four years.” Everything that was racing through your head came to a stop. Jack can’t sleep without you, and here you are, the two of you about to go separate ways for four years. Your heart rate picked up as you tried to make the situation better. Sure there were going to be times in the year you’d be together, but not that often during hockey season. Not when he needed you the most. 

Tears filled your own eyes as you frowned down at him. “See? This is why I didn’t want to tell you I can’t sleep without you Y/n. Because you’re going to rethink everything, and with that over think it all.” Jack sat up, pulling away from your hands. “You’re going to Penn State, so don’t even try telling me that you’re not.” It’s like he could read your mind, because that’s exactly what you were thinking. “I love you too much to let you do that Y/n/n.”

“But then what are you going to do Jack?” You asked rubbing your eyes to try and get rid of the tears. “I can’t be there for you during the school year - the hockey season - and you have to sleep bub. It’s gonna kill you if you don’t.” Standing from the bed you walked over to your suitcase, pulling out a pair of joggers and one of Jack’s tee-shirts. “So tell me how I’m not supposed to over think that J. Because I love you, and god I-” the tears that fell from your eyes cut you off. 

In a flash Jack was standing next to you, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close to him. Tears still fell down his face as you held each other in your arms. “It’s only 255 miles away from me, I promise I’ll figure something out Y/n.” Your head nodded against his chest, the doubts you were having still prominent. “Okay so maybe I won’t figure it out, because it’s fucking hard,” Jack confessed. “It’s near impossible to fall asleep without you next to me Y/n.” 

Your mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Your heart ached at his words. “Then I won’t go to Penn State,” you whispered backing away from him a little to see his reaction. Jack’s mouth opened, but you beat him to it, “I know you told me not to, but J my dream school isn’t worth you putting yourself through that, I don’t want to put myself through that.” 

“You’re going to Penn State,” Jack stated. “I’d rather never sleep again then take that away from you, especially because it’s not your fault, it’s mine.” Your eyes looked back up to Jack’s, his tears had stopped, but they were red and puffy. “You have nothing to feel bad about my love, you don’t have to put yourself through this,” Jack explained acting as if this wasn’t a big deal. 

“I have nothing to feel bad about Jackie?” You scoffed, trying to not come off as mad. The last thing you wanted was to fight with him over this. “I have everything to feel bad about superstar. You can’t sleep without me Jack, that feels like it’s on me. If I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you J, you don’t sleep.” Jack’s eyes dropped down to the floor, his hands grabbing yours. “If I wake up in the middle of the night, you wake up too. We can’t have you play games tired, I have to be sleeping in the same bed as you end of story, or we have to figure something else out.” 

He brought your right hand up and pressed a kiss against your knuckles. “Y/n, you’re going to Penn State, even if I can’t sleep without you in the bed. I guess we’ll just have to figure something else out, but you’re right, it is on you.” Your face fell at this comment, ready to fire back, but then Jack started to smile. “It’s on you that I’m so fucking in love with you, that I can’t sleep without you. That I’m that wrapped around your finger I wake up as soon as you wake up in the middle of the night, and you know what?” 

“What?” You whispered eyes looking up at him through your lashes. 

“I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he smiled wrapping his arms back around your shoulders. “We don’t have to figure it out right now, we’re supposed to be celebrating this week.” Your head shook at how fast his mood could change. “And you know what’s great for celebrations?” You rolled your eyes, ready to shoot down his idea which you figured would be sex. “Ice cream!” 

A laugh escaped your mouth before you nodded to agree. “You know I can never pass up ice cream J. Vanilla and butterscotch has a special place in my heart just because of you, I hope you know that babe.” 

Jack gave you a cheek smile, “Oh I know it does love. Now hurry up and change, there’s and ice cream place right across the road, and I wanna treat my girl.” 

-

Your hand was interlaced with Jacks as you walked around the lower level of The Rock. The events of last night seemed like light years away, and the fact Jack fell asleep with a smile on his face, and he got a goodnight’s sleep was all you could ask for, especially since it was going to be another long day. Wake up early to eat breakfast and then gone all day. “Have I told you that you look beautiful today Y/n/n?” Jack asked, causing you to look away from the pictures on the walls to his blue eyes. 

With red cheeks you nodded. “Maybe once or twice.” The smile on his face was contagious, and you couldn’t stop the one forming on your face even if you wanted to. “But it’s nothing much, just a t-shirt dress that’s been sitting in my closet, no big deal J.” 

“Well dress or not, you look beautiful no matter what you wear Y/n/n,” he complimented before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “And that’s a promise.” If it was even possible your cheeks were a darker red, growing a deeper shade with every word he said about you. “Now, it’s time to go sign a contract with my girl by my side.” 

It was your turn to place a kiss against his cheek unable to stop from smiling at him. “And I’m always going to be superstar. Now that you’re signing your ELC that means big bucks are on the way,” you started to tease with a cheeky smile. “Why would I leave when my boyfriend is going to be a hockey stud - well already is - and a millionaire? You ain’t getting rid of me now honey.” 

Jack’s eyes rolled as he could hear his mother and father laughing behind the pair of you as you slowly made your way up the stairs. “Happy to know you’re only staying for the money,” Jack said playing into your game, “and not the promise ring around your finger.” Your shoulders shrugged as you smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt.

“Hey you know I love you J, and not the money. Of course I’m here for the promise ring around my finger,” you answered, voice trailing off after realizing how bad that sounded. Shaking your head you looked away from his eyes and down to the stairs. “You know I’m here for you, I’m in it for you, that’s the reason the promise ring is around my finger.” 

“You know I’m just teasing you Y/n/n,” Jack sang while nudging you with his shoulder. “And I know exactly what you mean love, I’m in it for you too. So much that I can’t sleep without you.” A shy smile formed on your face as you looked back up to his eyes. “But you already knew that.” You hummed in response, not able to find the words as you came face to face with the door to Ray Shero’s office. Jack’s blue eyes looked down to the shocked look on your face. “Yeah, I know.” 

You looked up to him with a smile, “It just doesn’t seem real, and I’m not even the one that’s about to sign an NHL contract.” Before anyone else could say anything you were all welcomed into the GM’s office, and getting right down to business. Small talk was made, as Jack got settled into a chair, his smile only growing in size. Throughout the whole meeting his eyes kept finding yours, and then he did it. 

Jack signed his name on the dotted line making it official. Jack Hughes would be playing in the NHL for the New Jersey Devils in the 2019-2020 season, and it brought tears to your eyes. The boy who ran into on a rink thirteen years ago, the one you’ve watched grow into the player he is today, was finally getting to live out his dream. You were just thankful you got to be the one by his side for it all. 

“Oh, and we have one more thing to show you all,” Ray smiled standing from his chair and leading your group out of his office. “If you’d follow me please.” Just like that Jack was at your side again, his hand sliding into yours as you made your way back down to ice level. The pace Ray had set was fast, clearly set on showing you all the surprise within the next couple of minutes. 

And when you got there you could see why. Jack stared in awe at the dark arena, as he kept pulling you towards the light coming off the screen. Turning your head you watched as Ellen and Jim stopped and stood by the zam area and you thought you should do the same. So your tried to pull your hand from Jack’s but he stared at you confused. “What do you think you’re doing Y/n/n, you’re coming with me to see this.” 

Shaking your head you smiled. “Jack just go,” you said trying to pull your hand back from his again, “I can wait by your parents. Go embrace it babe.” He shook his head with a cheeky smile, tugging your hand towards him, not letting you pull away from him. “Jack come on, quit being stubborn,” you huffed with a serious face. 

“I’m not being stubborn, but I need you by my side for this,” he answered walking backwards towards the dark arena, “please?” Sighing you nodded, letting him pull you towards the area where the ice and boards should be, lit up by the jumbotron that had his face and number displayed on it. 

The area fell silent and when your eyes should’ve been focused on the big screen you couldn’t pull them away from the astonished look on Jack’s face. Then the smile that came with, “And for the first time in The Rock, number eighty-six, Jack Hughes.” His hand squeezed yours before his blue eyes met your e/c ones. His tongue wet his lips before smiling widely down at you. 

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Jack confessed as you walked towards his parents. “Can somebody pinch me, because it doesn’t seem real. None of this seems real. I just signed my first NHL contract, with my three biggest supporters by my side, and heard my name called for the first of many times. But god it doesn’t seem real,” Jack gushed unable to shake the smile from his face. 

You stopped, causing Jack to turn and look at the proud smile on your face, “Well you better get used to it superstar, because it’s gonna be happening for a long time.” 

[loserholland]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐧

Pairing ➺ Peter Parker x Reader

Warning ➺ smut? smut. choking!kink daddy!kink

Word Count ➺  4,306 

Requested ➺  Hey x could we get some dominant Peter? Like he’s dating the reader and he’s very dominant in bed but outside the bedroom he’s so cute and soft and always wants to hold hands. A daddy ki k Maybe? Thanks xx- anonbabe <3

Summary ➺  Who knew Peter could be so sweet yet dominant?

A/N ➺ This was sitting in my drafts and was also LONG (a year) awaited so why not finish it? Peter and the reader are 24!!

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand​ @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine​ @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou​ @babebenhardy​ @rivervixenbaby​ @acklesholland​ @zabdisamor​ @keepingupwiththehollands​ @sweet666pea​ @sspider-parker​ @jackiehollanderr​ @caro0512​ @thewinchesterchronicles​ @cporter003​ @kisses-holland​@spideysnugget​ @cryszus​ @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos​

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

☞  Masterlist  ☜

Peter Benjamin Parker was the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for. He was so caring and kind, putting your needs before his, swinging by late nights when she felt restless or had a nightmare, well that was one side of Peter.

The other side of Peter that only (Y/N) saw was his dom side. He was dominate in bed and (Y/N) had no problem with that because, he knew your limits and the minute you say the safe word he’d stop and take you into his arms. The aftercare was so always so sweet and loving, long hot baths with you laying in his arms as he whispers sweet nothings.

Today they were going to have a little lunch date and Peter had promised her to go shopping, she moved around their shared bedroom humming a soft tune grabbing her purse she placed her phone and wallet inside.

“Honey! Are you ready?” Peter called from the living room his attention was on his phone scrolling through Instagram waiting, (Y/N) skipped out of there bedroom with her purse in hand “Yeah let’s go.” she answered with a smile on her face.

Peter’s eyes drifted to her exposed cleavage causing his jaw to clench thinking about all the men looking at his beautiful girlfriend. “Honey..” Peter began standing up from the couch removing his flannel to leave him in his grey shirt.

“Put this on.” he placed his flannel over her shoulders earning a small pout from (Y/N). “Bubs no! It doesn’t go with my outfit!” (Y/N) whined shrugging the flannel off her shoulders causing Peter to pinch the bridge of his nose letting out a groan.

He glared at his difficult girlfriend walking towards her till her back came in contact with the door. Peter placed his thumb against her jawline placing his index finger under her chin up slightly looking into her (Y/E/C) eyes.

Peter let out a small sigh before beginning  “Yunno sweets, I wanted today to be a simple day no whining no nothing but you’re making it difficult.” his voice was low and raspy each word dripped with dominance.

“This is strike one, I’m not asking you to change your entire outfit but to wear my flannel because you’re showing a little too much.” (Y/N) pressed her lips into a thin line nodding slowly as her eyes averted to look anywhere but Peter’s. Peter let go of her chin bending down to grab the flannel that fell to the ground brining it up to (Y/N) shoulders.

(Y/N) stood on her toes to place a small kiss on Peter’s lips “I’m sorry daddy.” she whispered in hopes Peter would change his mind about the stunt she pulled earlier. Peter placed his index finger under her chin as he leaned down to steal another kiss from her, “You’re forgiven sweets, but that was still strike one.”

As the two waited in line waiting to be seated at the restaurant Peter had chosen for their lunch date (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his torso resting her head under Peter’s chin.

(Y/N) pulled away a little looking up at Peter with her lips puckered, Peter let out a small laugh leaning down to kiss her. (Y/N) hummed contently as a small smile painted her lips she pulled away slowly looking up at her smiley boyfriend she was so in love with. She unwrapped her right hand from around his torso bringing her hands up to his face pushing away the little curls that fell across his forehead.

“Thank you for bringing me out today.” (Y/N) whispered running her fingers through his soft curls standing on her toes to press a kiss onto his jaw leading up to his cheek and finally his lips.

Peter hummed in response pulling away slowly as the host came around from behind the desk to lead them to their table. Once they were seated the host had said their waiter would be with them shortly, (Y/N) looked over the menu scanning the food items.

(Y/N) looked over at Peter then back at the menu “Bub, wanna share a pizza?” she questioned as she looked over the different type of whole pizza’s the restaurant had to offer.

“Yeah, order whatever you want love.” Peter answered closing the menu noticing their waiter was heading there way. The young man who seemed to be in his early twenties stood on the side of the table “Hi, I’m Brandon I’ll be your waiter for today may I start you two off with drinks?” he took his notepad out of his waist apron along with a pen.

Peter cleared his throat leaning back up in his seat “Yes, may I have a coke or pepsi whatever you have and an ice tea.” Brandon scribbled onto his notepad “Are you two ready to order?” he questioned as Peter looked over to (Y/N) who hummed in response.

“We’ll have the Italian sausage and Pepperoni stuffed crust pizza.” (Y/N) said contently closing the menu with a smile on her face as Brandon nodded “Okay, I’ll be back with your drinks.” he took the menus from the table and scurried off to make their drinks.

Peter took your left hand into his right hand bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles as a small giggle left your mouth. “Excuse me?” a lady who seemed to be in her late sixties questioned causing (Y/N) to turn to the elderly women.

“Yes Ms?”(Y/N) addressed sweetly smiling warmly at the older women “I was wondering how long have you two been dating? If you don’t mind me asking” she asked sweetly pointed between Peter and (Y/N).

“For eight years.”she answered causing the sweet old lady to smile “Wow, eight years.. Sean they’ve been dating for eight years!” Sean must be the name of her husband who was sitting across of her.

Peter and (Y/N) had started off as friends, and it turned into a cliché friends to lover’s ordeal. They started dating towards the end of sophomore year.

 “They must be high school sweethearts, like us.” Sean let out a small chuckle leaning over to pat Peter’s back “You still haven’t asked her to be your wife!” the old lady asked in disbelief causing a faint blush to paint Peter’s cheeks.

(Y/N) let out a small giggle at what she had said “No, not yet soon hopefully.” which was true, we’ve been dating for nearly eight years and the moment Peter pops the question I already know I’m gonna say yes.

“Well, my wife and I have been married for almost forty-five years, we were also high school sweethearts too, once we turned twenty-one we got married and had two beautiful kids.” Sean added in taking his wife’s hand into his smiling warmly at Peter and her.

Their waiter had came by with their check “Well, we should get going it was nice meeting you two! I wish nothing but happiness for the two of you and mr?” the old lady pointed at Peter “You better put a ring on this beautiful girl soon.” (Y/N) giggled at what the lady had said as she and her husband excused themselves from their table.

After lunch the first store the two had stopped by was Victoria’s secret, Peter wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s waist pulling her closer into his embrace resting his chin on her shoulder. 

This was something Peter loved, just being close to you. Even if you leave him for a few seconds he would make a big fuss out of it, which is the cutest thing ever. His cheeks would be tinted a light pink and his lower lip slightly pouted whenever you weren’t close to him. He was the cutest.

(Y/N) ran her hand over the rosey-nude satin babydoll piece, tracing the lace details over the breast area a small smirk tugged at her glossed lips. Picking up the babydoll piece unwrapping Peter’s arms from around her waist to lacing her hand with his.

Once (Y/N) got to the dressing room Peter sat on one of the benches outside, she waited for a few minutes for the sales-person to leave the dressing room peeking her head outside to usher Peter into the room. It was a good thing she gave me one of the bigger rooms that was in the corner, Peter sat on the long bench staring at my beautiful figure.

(Y/N) gave him a little spin “So what do you think bub? Do you like it?” she looked into the mirror watching Peter’s body language change. Turning on her heels she moved to straddle his lap brushing her freshly manicured nails thanks to Peter for bringing her to get them done yesterday through his curls.

“Do you not like it?” (Y/N) asked in a feign tone knowing what she was doing to him well another part of him. She pressed a kiss to his clenched jaw slowly moving down to his neck.

“Mmhm, Peter you’re making me really sad. Do you not like it?” (Y/N) pulled away from his neck to meet Peter’s no longer chocolate brown eyes but what seemed to be blown out black clouded with lust.

The lighting in the room was a bit dim and it made the situation even better. Peter’s hands trailed to your hair grabbing a handful before tugging at it slightly, a small gasp left my lips “Of course I like, no love it kitten. This is strike two by the way. Get dressed, we’re buying this and then we’re leaving.” Peter’s voice dripped with dominance causing a small whimper to leave my lips.

“But we didn’t get to continue shopping! This was our first stop.” (Y/N) whined pouting lightly only to earn a small slap to her right butt cheek 

“Well you shouldn’t have pulled this little stunt kitten, if you didn’t we could’ve been on our way. Now hurry up and get dressed.” Peter lifted you from his lap placing you onto the empty spot on the bench. She watched Peter exit the dressing room, huffing lightly before letting out a squeal.

Peter clung onto her wrapping his arms around her waist swaying them from side to side as they waited in line, (Y/N) reached up running her hands through his hair tugging at it lightly. A small moan echoed in (Y/N) ears, the feeling of Peter’s hot breath caused the hairs on the nape of her neck to rise. 

She pressed her back closer to Peter’s chest swaying her lips slowly, “Next!” the cashier called causing (Y/N) to pull away lightly taken his hands in her’s. Peter pulled out his wallet awaiting the total, he watched (Y/N) trace the veins that on his hands while her head rest against his bicep.

“Did anyone help you today?” The cashier questioned while folding the new piece that would only end up on the ground. 

“No, but it’s okay we just came for one thing.” (Y/N) answered giving the worker a warm smile, maybe if Peter let her look around more a worker would’ve came to help her. 

“Your total is $83.15, will it be debit or credit?” 

“Debit.”

Peter inserted his card waiting for it to beep in approval so he could remove it and enter his pin onto the keypad, once the receipt was printed out she placed it into the bag and handed it over the counter. 

“Have a great rest of your day!” 

“You too.” 

Peter took the bag from the counter holding it in his left hand, (Y/N) smiled widely leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek “Thank you bub.” Peter smiled bringing their intwined hands to his lips pressing a kiss onto the back of her hand. 

This is what she loved about Peter, he can be the sweetest, most innocent man to most people who say them out together. But when if she crossed the line, which she enjoyed doing way too often, she’d get the side of Peter no one has seen nor knew he had. 

I guess when it come’s to having a girl’s night and a super-hero boyfriend, you may never know when he could drop by. (Y/N) had gone out with a couple of her college friends, they were hanging out in the out door area of the bar Vivian had picked. 

They first talked about how their lives were then moved onto their relationships, they had met Peter before it was more of an unannounced meeting due to them walking in on the two going at it.

“So how are you and Parker’s sex life?”

(Y/N) shrugged lightly lifting her glass of red wine to her lips, “It’s good, oh god he’s good it’s just so...vanilla.”

What she didn’t know was Peter was currently hanging out on the roof of that bar listening in on their conversation, it was unintentional he was swinging by and saw his girlfriend so he decided to stop.

“I just want him to be a little more rough. Take control. I want him to choke me, edge me, fucking hell tie my hands up. I just want something, different. Something new.”

He gave it a couple of days, (Y/N) was in one her moods one night where you’re just annoyed for literally no reason? Yeah she was in that mood so Peter, being the good didn’t mean to eavesdrop boyfriend he is, decided to fulfill what she wanted. 

Using his web-shooter to hold her hands against the head board, brought her to her climax but easily denied her to have any release saying she had to beg for it. That night her head was spinning, in a good way of course. It felt so good, so right.

So ever since then, if she overstepped the line. That’s the Peter she’d get.

“Bub please? Can we stop at one more store?” (Y/N) pouted, she just wanted to stop by Sephora for some face mask. Just one store, then they could be on their way.

“Maybe tomorrow love okay? I was planning on cooking pasta for us tonight.” 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “It’s just one more store was harm could it do.” she mumbled under her breath hoping Peter didn’t hear what she just said. He did though, he heard it loud and clear. 

Peter didn’t bring it up though, they drove home. He cooked dinner and now here they are sitting across from one another. (Y/N) had taken a nap when they got home leaving Peter to cook dinner in silence with a bottle of red wine opened for the two to share. 

“Thank you for taking me shopping today.. and for dinner.” 

Peter hummed in response pushing his chair back and waving (Y/N) over to come seat on his lap which she gladly obliged. She wrapped her arms around his neck giving him a small smile as he wrapped one his left arm around her waist. He pushed back the pieces of hair that fell onto her face behind her ear, resting his palm against her left cheek.

“You know love, I thought that you wouldn’t need to be punished. Especially since I just bought a cute piece to add to your collection. But, what did you say earlier when I told you we can continue to shop tomorrow?”

(Y/N) squirmed around lightly allowing her gaze to fall to his lap, fucking hell he did hear what she had to say. It was a harmless comment. 

“It’s just one store, what harm can it do.” she mumbled just above her breath causing Peter to tap her chin lightly, bringing her gaze back to her loving boyfriend. 

“Use your big girl voice love.”

“It’s just one store, what harm can it do.”

Peter gave her a chaste kiss brushing his thumb against her cheekbone, "Go wait for me, you know what to do.” tonight was going to be different. (Y/N) enjoyed her punishment’s, as much as she told Peter to stop she didn’t mean it. If she did, she should’ve said their safe word instead. Tonight he’d give her a small taste of Vanilla. 

(Y/N) sat on their king sized bed, she propped her arms up against the headboard expecting Peter to hold them in place using his webshooter. She watched as her boyfriend walked into their room with two glasses of their unfinished wine.

She could see the lust in his eyes, and how the devil was currently dancing behind those once beautiful chocolate eyes.

The air was thick with tension, Peter hummed lightly taking in the sight of how the moonlight kissed her naked skin oh how beautiful she looked. He began to stalk closer to her, placing his wine glass on the night stand. 

He held (Y/N) glass close to her lips, she parted them lightly allowing the berried flavor liquid to pass her lips. Peter tilted the glass a little too much, on purpose watching the red liquid trail down her neck to the valley of her breast.

“Oh, let me clean that up for you love.” 

(Y/N) watched Peter kitten lick the red liquid, his hot breath and the cool liquid against her now hot skin. This was new, the feeling of Peter slowly cleaning up the wine from her chest, swirling his tongue around your now hard bud. Using his free hand to tease your left breast. 

He pulled away with a smirk, “There all better, did you enjoy that my love?” (Y/N) nodded eagerly leaning forward to capture his lips. Peter took a handful of her hair tugging it back lightly, he was still aware of his strength and knew if he was hurting her or not. 

“I-I deserve thirty spankings daddy, on each cheek.” (Y/N) said breathlessly, she kept her hands on her side waiting for further instructions if she could touch Peter or not. 

Peter sighed placing his right hand on her cheek, she kissed his inner palm nuzzling her cheek into his hand staring up at him with big doe eyes.

“None of that tonight, why don’t you ride my thigh hm?”

(Y/N) watched as her boyfriend moved to sit against the headboard, this wasn’t how her punishment was suppose to go. She’d get a few slapping, Peter enjoyed the sight of his hand print on her ass though he knew not to go too far with it. 

Usually Peter would use her vibrator and would web her legs down to the leg of the bed along with hands. He’d just hold the vibrator against her clit bringing her to the edge over and over only to pull the vibrator away at the last minute.

She moved to straddle his thigh, she could feel herself dripping down her thigh. Slowly she sat on Peter’s clothed thigh, “D-daddy? May I place my hand’s on your shoulder?” he gave her a hum in approval watching her steady herself then began to grind against his thigh.

The rough fabric from his jeans made her bite back a moan at the amount of pleasure it was giving her, Peter didn’t say if she could be loud her not. Usually he’d tell her if she made any noise, they’d have to start over.

He moved his hands to her hips guiding her movements, “Be loud for me my love.” a loud cry passed her lips oh that was music to his ears. It was beyond beautiful, she was beyond beautiful. Peter noticed as she began to rock her hips faster watching her face contour in pure pleasure, her breathing became rigid.

Peter leaned forward peppering a few kisses onto her chest, “C’mon cum for me.” he encouraged rubbing her back to assure her that it was okay for her to cum. And so she did, she slowly rode out her high Peter lifted her off his thigh she had left a mark on his jeans. 

“You can give me a few more right love? If not, just say the word.” (Y/N) knew what he meant, if the pleasure soon turned into pain don’t hesitate to say the safe word.

He kissed her inner thigh lightly blowing onto her throbbing clit wasting no time to suck on it harshly earning a loud cry from (Y/N), she felt her breath catch in her throat when Peter began to pump two fingers in and out of her wet hole. When Peter moaned against her clit the vibration made it even more better, and the way he curled his fingers to hit the right spot made her see stars.

Night’s when Peter was out watching over New York and she was feeling sexually frustrated she’d touch herself, but it never compared to Peter. How his fingers were longer and thicker than her’s and how it just made her head spin.

He used his free hand to press against her lower stomach lightly, pulling away from her clit with a pop not stopping his movements with his finger’s.

“I know you can give me a few more love, c’mon now.” 

(Y/N) squealed lightly her chest rising and falling trying to grasp some sort of air. She couldn’t find the words to answer, all she could do was moan at the pleasure. The familiar knot in her stomach tightened as her toes curled, she mindlessly rolled her hips on his fingers “C’mon love, don’t be shy cum for me.” 

Peter helped her ride out her second high of the night he sucked on her juices humming at the sweet and saltiness mixed with the wine, “Sweet as always. How about two more love?” (Y/N) eye’s widened, two more? He was being too generous. He’d would barley let her cum once.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

She watched Peter walk into the closet and walked out with a vibrator placing it on the bed. Then he moved the floor mirror right at the foot of the bed, Peter sat back on the bed with his legs open enough for her to sit in-between. 

“I want you to look at how beautiful you are when you’re being pleasured.” Peter whispered trailing the vibrator down her body till it rested where it was needed the most. His chin rested on her shoulder watching her eyes flutter lightly when he cranked up the power. 

The room echoed with her moan’s and pants, Peter wrapped his free hand around her throat squeezing the sides lightly “Keep those eye’s open.” his voice was raspy and full of dominance. (Y/N) stared at the mirror keeping eye contact with Peter at all times causing his grip to loosen, he pressed a kiss to her neck mumbling “Good girl.” 

She reached for Peter’s wrist, unsure if she could handle another orgasm. Her head was spinning and it was already hard enough to keep her eyes open.

“You can do it love, just let go. I won’t be mad.” 

(Y/N) covered her mouth muffling her screams lightly throwing her head back, she could have sworn she could see the stars. The vibrator was cranked down to the lowest level and then it was off, Peter tossed it onto the floor peppering kisses onto her shoulder.

“You’ve been so good for me so far? Hm? My good girl.”

She hummed in response “Your good girl.” Peter moved her to lay onto the pillow moving off the bed to discard of his clothing freeing his hard length. 

“Peter?” (Y/N) whispered watching him search the draw for a condom, “C-can you go without a condom? I’m on the pill.” This was going to the first time they had foregone the condom, they would always used protection as said by May she didn’t want any babies to watch after just yet.

He kissed her slowly before slowly pushing in without warning causing (Y/N) to choke on her breath eyes rolling back in pleasure. Peter gripped onto the headboard, he groaned loudly leaning down to kiss her neck sweetly. She felt pure ecstasy, she screamed when Peter hit a certain spot. 

“Oh right there?”

He moved his hand to wrap around her throat apply light pressure, this sent her over the edge. The way the tip of his length brushed against her g-spot and Peter choking her made her body feel like it was on fire, a strangled moan passed her lips. 

“C’mon love, be a good girl for daddy.” Peter cooed allowing her to reach her climax once more, (Y/N) tried to hold it back for a few seconds not wanting to give in. She could see how Peter was beginning to get a bit sloppy, he was close to but she wanted him to cum first.

“Don’t hold back love.”

(Y/N) reached her high for the fourth time that night. Peter following closely behind removing his hand from her throat to kiss her sweetly. Riding out each other’s high before Peter pulled out and laid next to her.

The room was filled with their heavy breathing, it was silent for a few minutes.

“I’ll run you a bath love, are you okay? Was it too much?”

(Y/N) shook her head lightly allowing her eyes to flutter shut for a second, “No, it was perfect Peter.” he lifted her into his arms walking over to their shared bathroom placing her to sit upright on the counter and ran the bath. 

She went to use the toilet then got into the bath with him, her back against his chest. 

“I promise I’ll take you to the mall again tomorrow.” 

“No, no it’s okay. I just want to stay in and cuddle.. pretty sure I’ll be sore for a week or two.”

Peter pressed a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.” (Y/N) turned around placing her hands on his cheek’s. This is why she loved him, no matter how he was in bed he was always so sweet and caring. 

“I love you too.”

[richardsikens]

&. blue-blooded !

synopsis: hp royal au ?? harry/hermione best friendship? there ain’t a pairing in this bc i found this deep in my drafts and never wrote a plot but This Scene alone exists for some reason

“To clarify, I’m not going to marry Harry,” is the first thing Hermione says, after she’s pushed the doors open in a very non-ladylike way and used her loud Hermione voice, not the Princess voice her family have been trying to train her into talking with for the last sixteen years of her life.

Harry blinks behind his glasses. “Uh. I know?”

She gives him a reproachful look. “I wasn’t talking to you, clearly. Obviously you know we’re not going to marry each other.” She tilts her chin up to look at the other people in the room, making direct eye contact – both her parents, Harry’s parents.

No one says anything so Harry speaks up again. “Are we supposed to get married?”

Hermione looks like she was waiting for someone to say that, because she whips out a newspaper from somewhere and slaps it down on the table. “Now, we all know that The Sun writes utter crap –”

“Hermione,” her mother admonishes, the first thing she’s said since her daughter blazed into the room.

There’s a moment where Harry can visibly see Hermione restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “My apologies. The Sun is the least reliable of papers here, but journalism is a sham these days, because now all the papers are writing that we’re going to get married when we’re old enough, which is ridiculous.”

She says this all very fast, and there’s a silence that follows. Then, Harry’s father laughs.

“Well, we all know that’s nonsense.”

“Prince James,” Hermione levels her voice, and Harry’s eyebrows raise because she only uses full titles when she’s pissed. “You’ve been quoted to have confirmed the rumour.”

There’s another silence. Lily Potter gestures wordlessly at Hermione to see the paper, who passes it to her. When she’s done reading, she rolls the paper up and then smacks her husband with it over the head.

The Grangers blink in shock.

“What did I say about making sure your jokes aren’t heard by the public?” Lily says, and James pouts. “‘Doing our best to bridge the histories between France and Britain’?”

“You said what? Dad!” Harry darts forward to grab the newspaper from his mother.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” James says defensively. He holds his hands up in mock-surrender, first at his wife and son, and then at the Grangers. “I swear I’m not trying to marry off our children.”

“Well, I mean, a marriage between the two wouldn’t be the worst thing,” Hermione’s father inputs, eyebrows furrowed.

“Dad!” Hermione says, face going red.

“I’m just thinking out loud!”

“We’re not even heirs to the throne in France, it doesn’t matter! Uncle Richard isn’t going to let our family take the crown unless he’s dead!”

Prince Henry Granger deflates a little at the mention of his older brother. “Well, I suppose you’re right—”

“Regardless!” Hermione interrupts, and consequently ignores her mother’s frown. “I’m not marrying Harry. He’s like my brother. I’m certain he doesn’t want to marry me as much as I don’t want to marry him.”

“I don’t,” Harry adds helpfully.

“With that note, we’ll be in the gardens if you need us.” She all but strongarms him into leaving the room, closing the door with a slam as loudly as she opened him.

“Oh, our lovely, delicate Hermione,” her mother sighs to herself.

“Now that’s sorted,” James says, batting his eyes at his wife. Lily blinks back, unimpressed. “Tea, anyone?”

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

*tosses all my coins to my writer* Okay I've got another platonic idea! Imagine Jaskier is in a tavern waiting for Geralt and meets another bard who is waiting for his companion as well. Both start talking and ranting about their companions and that they don't know what it means to be a bard and sing about others who get all the fame and no one remembers the bard. Maybe they start writing a duet about this legendary evening.

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Platonic!Jaskier and ReaderWord Count: 978Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak a/n: Ooh I like this! Justice for Bards!!!

“Another,” you said, raising your hand to wave the bartender down.

“I’ll have the same,” a voice said and you turned to see a man pulling up to the seat next to you. He placed his lute on the bar, echoing your own setup, though his lute was much more ornate. You caught his eye and he gestured to the lute.

“Ah, a fellow member of the guild,” he said.

“I was about to say the same,” you replied. Two ales were placed in front of you, the bartender grumpily trying to find a way to hand them to you without endangering your instruments.

“Does this mean we’ll have to arm wrestle to decide who goes first?” he asks jokingly.

“Ah, no, I performed earlier. I’m just… waiting,” you say, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice.

“It seems our list of similarities only grows. I am also waiting for my companion. Geralt of Rivia. The Witcher. You may have heard of him,” the man says casually.

“Oh of course, you must be the famous Jaskier,” you say, to which he nods his head with faux humility.

“Who do you wait for?” he asks, taking a drink from his cup.

“No one so renowned but another hunter. Tell me something,” you say, turning to face him, “How do you get Geralt to take you seriously?”

Jaskier’s face breaks into incredulous laughter.

“Oh I only wish I had an answer for you but I’m afraid Geralt very much does not take anything I do seriously. Then again, gods knows he’s serious enough for the both of us,” he mumbles into his drink.

“Alright see this is interesting because it’s very much the same for myself and my companion. I accompany him and I’ve always viewed our relationship as very recriprocal, I taking the adventures me go on and spinning them into songs beloved by all, him receiving free performances and no small amount of fame and respect thanks to the aforementioned songs. But he treats me like a parasite more often than not,” you exclaim, relieved to find someone to vent to who understands what you’re going through. Jaskier’s already nodding before you finish your rant.

“Yes, exactly so! He couldn’t walk down a street without being pelted with harsh words or literally pelted with things. I come around, write one song and turn the whole thing around. What do I hear from him? ‘That’s not how it happened.’ Like anyone wants to listen to a bloody song about just walking away from a fight. Bollocks,” Jaskier says, your anger fueling his own frustrations.

“Y’know what I think the problem is? I think they truly believe what we do is easy,” you say. Jaskier scoffs and slaps his hand on the bar.

“That’s exactly it,” he replies, gesturing for emphasis, “They think it’s all fun and games, as if making it look easy and fun isn’t a part of the work!”

“He has no idea how many nights I want nothing more than to slide off to bed but I have a reputation to uphold and frankly money does not grow on trees and more than once my earnings have gotten us a warm meal, or my performance has been trade for a bed to sleep in,” you complain.

“We’re supposed to uplift them and make everyone see how hard they work and how grand they are but what of us? Who sings of the bard? We go on the same adventures. What, if you don’t have a sword or magic you’re somehow not as brave? Gotta slay a dragon for respect these days?” Jaskier’s voice gets louder and to anyone looking in from far away it looks as though you’re having a heated debate, your faces flushing warm and facing each other.

“I bet they’d change their tune pretty fast if we started singing about someone else,” you suggested, the spark of rebellion glinting in your eyes.

“Yeah but the bastards do go on some cracking adventures,” Jaskier sighs, “Why? Who were you thinking?”

You lean in close, conspiratorially, looking like spies preparing to exchange secret information.

“Us,” you say. The word hangs in the air and your eyes stay locked, considering the idea with uncertainty that bleeds into giddiness.

“Yes,” Jaskier says decisively and fumbles around in his bag as you do the same, both producing notebooks and quills in tandem, further crowding the bar space. You spend the next hour collaborating, peppering in ideas with praise for each other’s turn of phrase and deft rhymes. At one point you both have your lutes in hand, trying out different melodies to suit the words you’d begun drafting, altering the prose as you go to fit the tune, crafting a song for the bards. You’re just harmonizing on the final melody when Geralt walks into the tavern, seeking out Jaskier. You see the witcher and internally you’re excited to see this mythical figure but you carefully school your features to remain casual.

“Ah, Geralt, this is my friend… oh dear I never asked your name,” Jaskier says as he turns to you.

“Y/N,” you answer. He turns his eyes over Geralt briefly and then goes, “And you are?”

Jaskier laughs gleefully and Geralt just looks at you impassively, not offering so much as a grunt of response before turning back to Jaskier.

“If you’re ready?” he asks.

“You know what, I’m not just yet. Do take a seat and wait for me. The ale is great,” Jaskier says and then swivels back towards you to continue to work on the song. Geralt blinks for a moment and then lumbers over to a table towards the back and nurses an ale as the two of you continue to work on your song, making plans to meet up at the next available occasion to debut it for the world.