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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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Apothecary - Chapter Four

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

questions are answered and truths are revealed. and they both cross lines they won't be coming back from.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, canon-typical descriptions of gore, smut (shhhh don't tell anyone) annnd spooky times, of course

a/n | y'all fucking rock for loving and supporting this series so much <3 my inbox is always open and i love to hear your thoughts about it. also i should mention this chapter is just a little bit longer, so get comfy before reading :)

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The sun is only just rising when she sees him out of her house. Joel finds himself squinting in the faint morning light as he steps out on her porch, his eyes bleary from a night without sleep.

“We’ll talk more later, right?” She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed as she asks him. He can see the worry lining her furrowed expression and he impulsively ducks his head to press a quick kiss to her lips, wanting to smooth out any uncertainty in her.

“Tonight, after my shift. Can I come by then?” Her expression eases into a smile and she nods, untucking her hand from where it was crossed under her arm to offer him a small tin– of what, he isn’t sure.

“Salve made with comfrey root. For pain and swelling in those knuckles of yours.” Joel is starting to accept that knowing her is being constantly surprised by her, so he just nods and mumbles a soft thank you, taking the tin from her with his hand that isn’t all bandaged up.

“I’ll see you tonight, Joel.”

“I’ll be here, darlin.” He’s still getting used to it, being able to reach for her and her reaching back, so his motions are a bit disjointed when he shuffles closer in search of another kiss. She makes it easier, though, bringing a hand to his jaw, a steady guide drawing him in. His nose barely brushes against hers when he jerks away in a flash, biting back a yelp as something brushes up against his ankles. He can tell that she’s holding back a laugh as she smoothly scoops Stevie up in her arms, the feline nuzzling up against her chin immediately.

“I think someone might be a little jealous.” Joel finds himself mirroring her easy smile, shaking his head before leaning in to steal that kiss he had been set on. It’s a quick little thing, Stevie letting out an indignant meow between them as he pulls away.

“You better go before Tommy comes looking for you.” One more look, one more smile, it feels like pulling away from a magnet as he leaves. He moves through town not fully there, his mind swirling with everything she told him last night. But the haze he finds himself walking through quickly clears when he makes it to the gate, finding his brother talking to Mason, who is clearly wound up judging by the way he’s in Tommy’s face. As Joel gets closer, Tommy’s eyes dart over Mason’s shoulder to him, prompting the man to turn around, revealing a clearly broken nose. Mason scoffs, looking once between Tommy and Joel before storming past them.

“Got something you wanna tell me, brother?” Tommy cocks an eyebrow at him, eyes glancing down to Joel’s bandaged hand before settling back on his face.

“He got what he deserved.” Tommy snorts at that, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I know. It’s the talk of the town. Joel Miller went where no man has gone before– the witch’s lair.” He knows his brother is joking by the way he can barely get the words out behind a laugh, but Joel is having a hard time finding it amusing, huffing as he shoulders past Tommy, heading toward the stables to mount up and head out.

He and Tommy work well together, always have, and today is no different as they ride out for patrol, but what is normally a comforting quiet only gives Joel more time to stew over her dizzying story.

As far back as we could trace it– we’ve always been like this.

It’s energetic, really. Where others are closed, we’re open wide.

I see the world in threads. Everything is tied together. What I do– what people call magic– is pulling on those threads.

He knows that he still doesn’t fully understand, but he reckons that she doesn’t fully understand either. What she could tell him, she did.

She told him about growing up in Wyoming with her mother, how she first told her about these abilities when she caught her talking to a bird, and it seemed to be talking back.

She told him how her mother was both revered and repelled in their small town, much the same way she is in Jackson.

She told him that her mother had a vision the summer before everything fell apart, and took her out of her senior year of high school and up into the mountains to hide away while the world crumbled.

She told him how they lived well like that for many years, until her mother had another one of her visions behind now milky eyes. A vision that it was time to go.

She told him about the night before they were planning to leave, raiders coming in the dark and a stray bullet finding a home between her mother’s ribs. She wandered on her own for weeks, willing death to rejoin her with her family, but was instead found by Maria and one of the Jackson patrol groups.

She told him about her time in Jackson. The people she helped. The lives she got tangled up with. And the men whom she always kept at a distance, beacons of grief and reminders of what people really thought of her.

She spoke as if in a trance, her eyes and voice unwavering save for the shuddering breaths she took between words. And when she finished, Joel had risen from his seat and coaxed her up with him, pressing her close in his arms until the shake in her shoulders steadied.

He’s gotten the truth now, and he spins it over and over in his mind, his thoughts flitting up into the thin mountain air.

…

She’s being followed. Has been since she set out on her rounds this morning, paying house visits to folks in Jackson that need her care. Stevie lets out a sour hiss from her place tucked in her satchel, and she chances a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, the black dog is following behind her at a close but respectable distance. If it hadn’t been going on since she left her house this morning, she probably wouldn’t even notice. But it had been sitting right next to her mailbox, head tilted at her as she stepped down from her porch, and she knew then that this wasn’t just a random visitor. It was an omen.

“Go on, get!” She waves her arm behind her, uselessly trying to shoo the dog away, who only looks at her with that same head tilt.

Four other times this had happened.

The first time, it had been an inky black crow, squawking and hopping along from house to house, trailing behind her. They brought him back that night, slung over the back of one of the horses, a smear of bullet wounds in his back.

The second time, it had been a rat that skittered along fence posts and wove between people’s feet. He didn’t even make it out of the gates that morning, trampled to death by a newly-trained horse.

The third time, it had been a beetle, a creature certainly not indigenous to Wyoming. She kept picking it up in a glass jar and taking it outside, but everytime, it found its way back into her shop. A freak accident, people said, for someone so young to have a heart attack so suddenly.

The fourth time, it had been a black dog, the same black dog following her today, though it’s now much grayer in the face. They didn’t even bring his body back that time, not after he was infected.

Finishing her last house call, she jerkily makes her way toward her shop, trying to ignore the icy prickle shivering up her spine at the sound of paws padding behind her. She’s trying not to look like a freak, but judging by the glances people are giving her as she walks through town, she isn’t doing a very good job of hiding her mounting panic.

“I said go away.”

“Woah, I thought you told me you needed my help today, but I can go I guess.” She whips around from where she had been scolding the mutt at the sound of Ellie’s voice, finding her waiting in front of the store.

“I’m sorry, Ellie. I wasn’t talking to you, I was– well, I was–” She motions vaguely behind her to the dog that has now sat on its haunches, panting lightly and looking at them. Ellie, however, is entirely unbothered by the animal, walking right over to it and crouching down to pat its scruffy head. The sight makes her feel a bit sick, knowing exactly what the presence of this animal means.

“C-c’mon, that thing probably has fleas. Let’s go inside and get to work, alright?” Ellie smiles up at her, nodding with a sigh as she walks over to where she is unlocking the door to the shop. She keeps her eye on the dog over Ellie’s shoulder, even as she opens the door and motions for the girl to go inside.

“You’re acting– weird.” She mutters something about not sleeping well, and although Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that, she shuffles inside. Before she follows after Ellie, she sets her satchel down just inside the door, Stevie stepping out and running to the back of the shop in search of the girl. She turns around to face the dog who has now inched closer to her, and does the only thing she can think to do.

The people of Jackson got quite the show that afternoon as she chased the scruffy mutt, her arms waving and muttered curses loosing from her lips, as far away from her shop as she could.

“You stay. Do you hear me? He’s coming back– h-he is.” With a final huff, she turns on her heel, stomping a direct path back to the shop and slamming the door behind her, Stevie’s and Ellie’s heads whipping up at her blustery entrance. She just huffs at their wide-eyed stares, her shoulders slumping when she glances back through the shop door window and sees that damn dog sitting on the stoop, head eternally tilted.

…

It’s been a slow day of patrol. They rode up around the dam, relieved to not find any raiders, a seemingly perpetual nuisance. It must be late in the afternoon when they decide to start heading back through the thickening woods.

“So, you two are really making a go of it, huh?” Joel glances over at Tommy, grunting at his brother’s prying question.

“Suppose we are.” Tommy chuckles.

“You never did take any of my advice. Good luck, brother. But please, try not to make a habit out of busting people’s faces for her.” It’s meant in jest, but Joel shoots him a hard look from atop his horse.

“You would’ve done the same if you had seen what he did to her.” When Tommy’s brow furrows, Joel lets out a bitter laugh.

“What? Did Mason leave out that detail? I watched that fucker slam her head against a wall, Tommy. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve done much worse.” Tommy mutters a low jesus christ under his breath, shaking his head at Joel’s words.

“Fuck, Joel– I’ll talk to Maria about this–”

“Don’t. Asshole like that– best to just let it go. I think I made my point. But if he tries anything again, I won’t hesitate, Tommy. I just won’t.” Tommy offers him a faint nod, both of them settling back into silence as they continue riding.

It happens in a flash. Someone– or something– comes bounding out of the trees, spooking Joel’s horse enough that he gets thrown right off. He groans, scrambling to get to his feet as Tommy wheels around, but before Joel can get his bearings, he’s tackled back down to the ground.

Snapping teeth and garbled shrieks, a disorienting mix as he struggles to push the clicker off of him. He can’t hear anything else, no clue if Tommy is alright, if they have any shot of making it out of this alive. All he can do is flail on the ground with this snarling creature, his bare hands doing little to repel its staggering force.

A cool fear starts to trickle in. A fear that this might be the time he doesn’t make it back.

…

She’s watching the clock, face scrunched into a permanent scowl of worry. The beds of her nails had all been picked raw several hours ago, and she had only stopped when they started to bleed. In her spiraling state, she had sent Ellie off early, not wanting to draw any more attention to her obvious anxiety. Stevie sits in the storefront window, hissing and clawing at the dog who has now laid down in front of the store.

It isn’t her fault. She tells herself this, over and over. She knows that it isn’t her fault. That it hadn’t ever been her fault, not now and not before. Deep down, she knows this, but the nagging voices of Jackson, and what people believe contrarily, seeps in around the edges of her mind, a sour poison that settles thick in her thoughts. And she braces herself for the worst, a full body tensing, waiting for the news to come.

Five o’clock. He should’ve been back an hour ago. But just as the clock rolls over into the new hour, Stevie stops hissing altogether. She gets up from her stool behind the old checkout counter, craning her neck to look out the window, but finds no sign of the dog that had been following her all day.

She moves before she thinks, leaving the door to the shop ajar as she stumbles out and starts walking briskly toward the town’s gate. When she rounds the corner and the gate comes into her line of sight, the slow creaking of its opening resounding in her bones, her feet kick up into a stilted jog. It barely registers to her that she’s crying, the cool slip of it running down her cheeks. When she only sees Tommy riding in, she stops in her tracks, heart stuttering still in her chest. But she breaks into a sprint when Joel comes into sight, riding in just behind his brother.

She lets out a yelp of his name, his head jerking up at the sound. A sob breaks in her ribs when his eyes meet hers, and he’s quick to slip down off his horse, taking a few tentative steps forward before she’s crashing right into him.

A hard breath is pushed out of him as he stumbles back a few paces, his arms wrapping firm around her as she presses her face into his chest, her hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt. When she finally pulls away, she brings her hands to his jaw, holding his face still as her eyes search his.

“Are you– are you ok?” He nods, clearly caught off guard by her frenzied greeting.

“I am, but– how did you– I mean, I’m fine. Just a little bruised. But I’ll live.” His words make a laugh bubble up in her throat, and when she lets it loose he really does look at her like she’s gone crazy.

“The dog was wrong–” She lets out another bright laugh.

“The dog was wrong!” His brow creases in even greater confusion.

“What dog? What’re you talk–” She cuts him off with a hard kiss, a smooch really, the kind that would make a cartoon character’s head explode in a shower of confetti hearts. But Joel’s blush when she pulls away with a sweet smack accomplishes much the same effect.

“I am so glad you’re back.”

…

“Damn, is this soup magic? Because it’s way better than anything Joel cooks.”

“Kid.” Ellie looks up at him from where she’s all but face-planted into her bowl of soup, shrugging at his scolding. She takes it in stride, though, laughing at Ellie’s exclamation.

“Not magic– but I’m glad you like it.” It’s a strange sight, her sitting at his kitchen table. It had been even stranger watching her flit around his kitchen, cooking for him and Ellie like she had done it hundreds of times before. But she had insisted after he told her what happened on patrol, not letting him get another word in edgewise as she led him first to her shop to pick up Stevie and that satchel of hers, and then to his house where she had immediately gotten to work with whatever odds and ends she could find in his fridge. Joel would never protest at the promise of a hot meal that he didn’t have to make, and he has to admit that the kid is right, the soup is really fucking good.

The rest of their meal passes quietly, the continuous purrs of Stevie sitting in Ellie’s lap being interrupted only when Ellie finishes her bowl with a contented groan.

“That was so fucking good, seriously. Can you come over more often? Because Joel’s idea of cooking is opening a can of really old chef boyardee beef–”

“Kid.” Joel is entirely mortified, but once again, Ellie just huffs, coaxing Stevie off her lap and standing up to take her bowl to the sink, glancing at them over her shoulder.

“What? It’s true. Anyways, I gotta run– Dina and I are going to movie night together.” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows as she leans back against the sink, but before Joel can even tell her to be safe, she’s already bounding through the house and out the front door with a loud “don’t wait up!” All he can do is slump back in his chair with a huff.

“That nudge you gave Ellie is going to send me to an early grave.” She snorts at that, sitting back in her own chair across from him and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I think it’s sweet– a little young love could do this world some good.” With that, she gets up, grabbing her own bowl as well as his and heading over to the sink. He goes to get up, protesting at her cleaning up after them, but finds himself sitting back down with a wince that catches her attention.

“You feeling alright?”

“I mean– no. Feel like I got thrown off a horse, probably because I did.” She offers him a small smile, tilting her head.

“Let me get this cleaned up, huh? I think I can help with that.”

Just a little while later, when she has him lead her up into his bathroom, Joel reckons that her idea of helping may give him a heart attack.

“Do you like the water really really hot, or just warm?” He has to clear his throat and pull his eyes away from the soft curve of her jeans where she’s bent over the tub, fiddling with the faucet, before he can answer.

“Um, I don’t– I don’t know. I guess I’ve never actually used this thing.” She whips around at that, brow furrowed.

“You’re kidding, right? You have this super nice tub, and you’ve never used it?” When all he does is shrug, she sighs.

“Well, I’ll just have to show you what you’re missing out on then. Can you go grab my bag? I left it right next to the stairs.” He pads out into the hallway, finding her satchel slung over the top of the railing of the stairs just as Stevie comes slinking up the steps.

“She asked me to get her bag for– Jesus christ, I’m talking to a cat.” He swipes a palm down his face, letting out a long sigh, only slightly shocked when Stevie lets out an inquisitive mrrp that sounds a whole lot like a response.

“You stay, alright? Go– be creepy somewhere else.” At that, Stevie lets out an indignant mroowww, tilting her head at him. It’s certainly a first for him, having a staredown with a cat, but he assumes he wins when Stevie turns away with another little mrrp, padding silently back down the steps.

When he reenters the bathroom, a haze of steam has filled up the room, and she’s sitting on the edge of the tub, checking the temperature of the water with her hand.

“There you are, thanks for grabbing that. You didn’t happen to see Stevie out there, did you?”

“Hmm? Oh, um, no, I didn’t. “ Luckily, she buys his answer, shaking her head with a light laugh as she takes her bag from him.

“Probably slinked off to find some trouble for the night. Anyways, let me finish getting this ready for you.” She pulls out a cloth sack from her satchel, digging her hand in and sprinkling what looks like salt over the bath. Before he can even ask, she explains it to him with a smile.

“Epsom salt. There’s a lake up in the mountains that dries out every summer and there’s always tons of this stuff on the lakebed. Mixed with a little lavender and chamomile to calm down inflammation.” He speaks before he can really think about it, feeling like a fool the instant the words leave his mouth.

“You’re amazing, d’you know that?” She laughs, keeping her eyes turned down as she swirls the water a few times with her hand before standing up to look at him.

“It should be all set. I recommend staying in there for at least a half hour, but really, if you can soak for more like an hour that’d be best.” She’s moving and talking so fast, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading for the door, that Joel can barely stutter out his response, the flush creeping up his neck only burning brighter when he does.

“Wait– I thought you– um, I thought– would you– stay?” Fucking hell, just bury me now, why don’t you? Her eyes widen first, but then soften as a grin crooks across her lips.

“Joel Miller, are you asking me to join you?”

“Only if you’d say yes.” Her grin broadens, beautiful and blinding.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

…

She realizes a bit too late that she’s nervous, her fingers trembling at the button of her jeans as they both silently undress. Her ears prick to the sound of a belt buckle clinking, the clean sweep of leather being pulled out of belt loops, followed by the quick thrum of a zipper. But she doesn’t look at him, not yet, to save what little nerve she still has worked up.

And then, when they’re both standing in a puddle of clothes, she wills her eyes to peel away from the tiled floor. She sees him in fragments, darting glances over sun-faded skin and soft strength, a thatch of dark curls that she tries not to stare at for too long. She finally looks at his face, and sees that he’s doing much the same, darkened eyes collecting her. She lets him.

“We should, um, we should get in– before the water gets cold.” She mentally kicks herself for the wobble in her voice, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, he doesn’t seem to notice at all, his eyes still roaming over her. She says his name, and his focus snaps back to attention.

“Um, right– I’ll just–” There’s nothing graceful about Joel Miller getting into a bathtub, and that’s how she knows she’s really taken with him, because somehow she still finds it endearing. And she just about swoons when he holds a hand out to her over the lip of the tub.

She doesn’t let herself think too hard about it, sinking into the warm water, her back facing him as she sits down between his legs. A careful hand slips over her hip, causing her to peer over her shoulder at him.

“This ok?” She hums her affirmation, letting him guide her back until she’s pressed up against the warmth of his chest. His palm skates over the top of her thigh, arcing out of the water to rest on top of her bent knee.

“Just relax, darlin.” “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s supposed to be relaxing.” She feels the vibration of his hummed response running up her spine, and it coaxes her to slump further against him, her head resting back on his shoulder.

“Oh, I am, believe me.” She laughs at that, though it fizzles out when his hand dips back down under the water, fingers curling at the crux of her thigh.

“Can I ask you something?” She’s a little too distracted by the way his thumb is rubbing circles into the soft inside of her thigh to be embarrassed by the breathy uh-huh she responds with.

“Heard a rumor about you from some of the women in town.” That makes her stiffen in his hold, only melting a little when he presses a sweet kiss to the side of her neck.

“I bet you heard a lot of rumors from them.” He hums again, low and gravelly.

“I did– but I really wanna know if this one is true.” She tilts her chin up, neck crooking to look at him and the faint smirk he’s sporting.

“They said they’ve seen you out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in your backyard.” Water splashes up against the sides of the tub as she laughs, squawks really, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and tangling her hands behind his neck. She can feel him, warm and hard, resting along her thigh as she straddles him, and she revels in the pretty flush that spreads across his cheeks. She’s got Joel Miller flustered, and she likes it. Taking him for all he’s worth, she leans in, letting her lips trace the shell of his ear as she speaks.

“Only on Halloween, baby.” His fingers grip a little tighter along the plush of her hips, and she has to giggle at the spluttering exhale he lets out.

“Jesus christ– are you serious?” She sighs, tilting her head at him as she tugs lightly at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, huh?” He swallows her laugh, lips finally slotting with hers, his palm trailing up her spine to press her closer, and it’s right then that she realizes how badly she had been jonesing for a kiss from him. This one is different than any they’ve shared before. It’s a kiss that takes its time, a slow exploration punctuated by murmuring sighs and wandering hands. She finds that he’s a stubborn kisser, always trying to get the upper hand, his tongue swiping across her lip before licking into her mouth. But she doesn’t let him have it for long, her teeth grazing his bottom lip, reveling in the little groan he lets out and using it to her advantage as she presses closer to him, the peaked slopes of her nipples dragging across his chest.

He shifts his hips down and away from the back of the tub, giving her space to wrap her legs around his waist, ankles grazing his low back and she thinks briefly that his bathroom is going to be a mess, water sloshing out over the sides of the tub with their increasingly frantic movements. Though she doesn’t have much time to worry about it when he ducks his head down, pressing a sweet kiss to her sternum that is starkly contrasted by the subsequent drag of his lips over one of her breasts, teeth grazing over her nipple before he laves his tongue over the bud. She lets out a gasp of his name when he sucks the delicate skin into his mouth, no longer trying to hold back the grind of her hips into the coarse hair covering his pelvis, his cock brushing up against her ass with the movement. Seemingly satisfied with his ministrations, he pulls away with a sweet little pop, his eyes impossibly darker as he looks at her.

“Want you, darlin, so bad. Can I– fuck– can I have you?” Afraid of what her voice might sound like, her response to him is another bruising kiss, tugging just a tad unkindly on his hair as she shifts her hips back, both of them groaning when her cunt grazes the underside of his cock.

“Want you too, Joel, please.” She doesn’t care that it comes out like a whine, too preoccupied with chasing the pleasure of his cock rutting against where she wants him most. But she stills when Joel places a firm hand to her hip, her brow furrowing at him.

“We’re not doing this in a fucking bathtub, not the first time.” She splutters out a laugh at his very serious expression, but she realizes he’s not kidding when he gently untangles her legs from around him, tugging her up along with him, water going everywhere as they step out of the tub in a slipping tangle of limbs. She’s finding that she can’t get enough of him, stealing whatever kisses she can get as he pulls her into the bedroom, her lips dragging down the column of his throat and over the top of his chest. And then a quick blur and breathy oof from Joel has them tumbling back onto his bed, her palms splaying out over his chest as she straddles his hips. They don’t stay like that for long though, Joel squeezing her ass and rolling them over in a surprisingly smooth move, slotting himself between her spread thighs.

All of a sudden, things start to move slower, thicker, as he drags a palm down her torso, flipping his wrist around when he reaches her pelvis and cupping her heat in a flat press. She cants her hips into his hold, sighing at the firm grind of the heel of his palm over her clit. And while it feels good, it isn’t what she really wants.

“Joel– don’t tease. I just, fuck– just want you.” He grins, the bastard, shifting his hand to dip two of his fingers against her entrance, the stretch sweet and stinging when he pushes in.

“Not gonna tease you, darlin. Just wanna get you ready f’me. Fuck– you’re driving me crazy.” She knows that he’s not just being arrogant, having gotten a good look, and feel, of his cock, but the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping inside of her is only making her want him more.

“Please, please– I’m ready, I swear. Just, fucking–” He shushes her with a quick kiss, and by giving her what she wants, moving his hand away and hovering over her, the heavy heat of his cock resting against the apex of her thighs.

It’s all quiet communication. He draws one palm along the outside of her thigh, coaxing her leg up, her knee resting against his waist as she opens up even more for him. She drags her hands down his chest, the soft pudge of his belly, before hooking them under and around to press into the shuddering muscles of his back. It’s a languid motion, her hips tilting up to meet his rolling forward, both of them letting out broken sighs as he fills her completely.

“Fucking– s’perfect- you’re perfect– I can’t– I– christ.” He breathes out a hard exhale, resting his forehead against her sternum, hips still flush with hers. She presses a smattering of kisses to his hairline, coaxing him to look up at her.

“Don’t think christ has anything to do with it, baby.” His chuckle at her smug words turns into a low groan when she flutters around him, both of them going a little sick with the pleasure of it all.

“Can I move, darlin? Shit– I’m not gonna last like this– feels too fucking good.” All he needs is her jerky nod for him to arc his hips away before snapping back, deep and slow, finding a push and pull that has them both sighing with each thrust. It feels like he’s everywhere, his mouth open and hot across her chest, his damp hair tickling the skin over her collarbone, his murmuring groans mixing with each of her sighs, and his throbbing length, every inch of him spreading her open again and again and again. She has half a mind to be embarrassed by how quickly she’s tipping over the edge of pleasure, but she doesn’t care, not when Joel is coaxing her into it with low drawling praises.

“That’s it, honey– so good like this– so beautiful– shit– come for me, please– need to– need to feel you–” He brings a trembling hand down over her pelvis, deft fingers drawing circles over her clit and it becomes too much all at once, his name leaving her lips in a quiet cry as she falls apart around him. He fucks her through it, his pace slowing into more of a deep grind that jostles them further up the bed with each stroke. All she can do is hold on, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, her hitched heel pressing into his low back as he chases after his own high. She pieces herself together enough to drag her hand through his hair, pulling his face down so she can murmur in his ear.

“Want it so bad, Joel– please, baby– wanna see you come for me– let me see you– let me have it.” He groans out her name, sounding more like pain than pleasure as he pulls away, leaning back on his haunches to sloppily stroke his glistening cock. She moves in a haze of desire, scrambling onto her hands and knees, her face coming level with his flushed length as she drops her jaw and sticks her tongue out, spit pooling from want as she looks up at him through her lashes.

She watches him closely as he comes with a slur of curses, breathless as the salt of his spend spurts onto her tongue, smudging across her lips and dripping down her chin. His shoulders slump, chest heaving as he runs a trembling hand through his hair, eyes not leaving hers as she sits back and swipes up the stray come on her skin, sucking her fingers into her mouth with a low hum. She’d never call that taste appealing, but the fact that it came from him, a sign of his pleasure which she had been sovereign over, sends a shiver up her spine as she swirls her tongue over her fingers.

…

She’s trying to kill him, she has to be, with her little smile and the lewd pop of her fingers leaving her mouth.

“You’re fucking unreal, goddamn.” She laughs at his exclamation and he swallows the sound, pulling her in for a kiss, his mind going fuzzy at the taste of what he assumes is himself on her lips. Even though he feels like he just ran a marathon, he can’t help but deepen the kiss, their mouths molding and moving as they lay down in a close tangle.

When they do pull away from each other, it’s with a shared sigh, and she rests her cheek on his chest, right where he knows she can hear his racing heart. She presses a kiss to that spot before tilting her chin up to look at him.

“I’m really glad you came back today, Joel.” His brow furrows, thinking back to earlier and the strange things she had said, her frantic greeting, and the relief that had been clear in her eyes. Another piece of her that he doesn’t quite understand. But he’s ok with that, with not knowing everything about her, at least not yet. She’s already unfurled so much of her life for him, and he’s prepared to wait patiently for whatever else she’ll offer him. As long as he gets to have her like this, warm and soft, keening into his touch, eyes hooded with a shared pleasure.

No other words are needed, not right now. He coaxes her chin up with a gentle press of his fingers, stealing one more kiss before they both settle down in each other’s arms.

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

taglist (i added some folks i thought would like to be, let me know if you want added or dropped lmao) : @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh

#apothecary #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #joel miller smut

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urhoneycombwitch · 17 days

Text

hands of love

foreword: omg been so long since I wrote for greenwitch!reader she’s baaaack. thx for reading if u do <3

cw: greenwitch!reader, R dresses very femme, referred to as ‘girlfriend’ once

wc: 1.5k

___

It’s the first sunny spring day in Hawkins, so when Eddie’s cursory call goes straight to your answering machine, he’s not worried. Wherever there’s sun, you’re sure to be found- dozing on his front porch like a cat in the sun, making daisy chains with rings sparkling on your pretty fingers, anywhere but indoors.

He hums along mindlessly to the radio on his way over, plucking at the neck of his cut-off tank for airflow. Metalhead fashion is a killer during warm months; he’s already regretting the choice of black ripped jeans over more weather-appropriate shorts.

Your dad’s house is just off Cornwallis, nestled in a forested area, gravel service road for a driveway that’s easy to miss. Eddie swings his van with a practiced wheel-flex, tires crunching down the lane when something catches his eye and he hits the brakes, hard.

Just off the gravel, sittin’ pretty in the dirt, is you- deep green tank top hugging your chest, bare feet poking out of a long patchwork skirt, gold and silver jewelry dripping from your ears, sliding around your neck and wrists, glinting in the sun.

You’re a fucking vision. Eddie swears, softly, then throws the gear shift to park and pockets his keys.

At the sound of the van door closing, you look up from your spot sat on the ground, the little crinkle of focus between your brows smoothing out into a devastatingly radiant smile- for Eddie. All for him.

”Hey! Was just thinkin’ about you!”

Eddie’s careful not to disturb the gardening tools spread out in haphazard array when he walks over, bending to his haunches for a kiss.

You taste like fragrant oil and sunshine. He gives you another for good measure, then pulls back, bracketing your face between his palms- “You were thinkin’ about little ol’ me?”

“Always.” An honest grin for an honest answer. “I was making you a present and then wishing you’d show up, so it’s kind of like I manifested you. With my mind.”

“Freaky,” he replies, indulgent, giving you a forehead kiss then dropping to sit at your side. “Good thing I have a witch for a girlfriend, hm?”

“Uh-huh. Good thing.”

He’s already lost your attention to the trowel you’re plunging in the dirt, churning up the earth, loamy smell filling the air. Used to chasing after your trains of thought, Eddie asks, “Whatcha doing?

“In a minute.” The reply is kind but distracted, a sort of coded rhythm that Eddie’s good at breaking- I want to tell you but if I try to find the words, my focus will slip.

Your focus is a precious thing- especially when it comes to your craft. Unintentionally, you’ve taught Eddie more about the virtues of shutting up and taking the world in these past few months than he’s ever cared to learn before.

After reaching past him for an open mason jar, you carefully shovel in about an inch of dirt, hold it up to the light for inspection, then repeat the same motion for the other nearby jar.

Eddie waits patiently, leaning back into his hands, watching you work. It’s soothing, seeing you interact with the nature that runs through your veins; having been on the receiving end of many of your gifts, he wonders if it’s a spell jar. Or a planter. Or-

“Terrarium.” As if responding to Eddie’s internal questions, your full attention envelops him, suffocatingly, wonderfully close as you lean in. “Was gonna make it for you as a surprise, but now that you’re here… wanna make it with me?”

Eddie’s still reeling from the steadiness of your eyes on his, the soft slip of bare arm pressing against his own. With a slow, dazed head shake- “Hold on. Give me a second.”

Your turn to be patient, jar of soil held at the space where your bodies are joined, paused, lashes sweeping with each curious blink.

Eddie blows out a breath, only half-joking as he says, “Goddamn. Really unfair. Thought you promised not to get prettier?”

Compliments only land with you half the time, so when a bashful smile pulls at the edges of your pretty mouth Eddie mentally fist pumps.

“I made no such promise.” The jar is thrust into his waiting hand, and you turn to pick up your own. “This one can be for your windowsill, maybe in the kitchen? It’s gotta have some light, but not too much. If Wayne likes it, maybe you can share-”

“Not sharing shit with that man,” Eddie says, grand in his petulance. “Wayne can get his own jar of dirt.”

Your squint straightens him out. Eddie folds easy for you, always has.

“Gotta find some moss,” you say, eyes still unerringly on Eddie’s, “That’s the substrate layer. And then little plants, maybe some grass, whatever we can forage that’s small enough to fit. Oh, and isopods, if we can find ‘em.”

“Iso-what?” Eddie asked, alarmed, but you’re already standing, moving past the edge of the forest in search of terrarium treasures while he scrambles to catch up.

There’s an easy, graceful lilt to your movements when you’re outdoors, as if you’re meant to be there- moss reveals itself to you faster than Eddie would’ve thought possible. One overturned rock later and your gleeful exclamation rings bright through the woods.

“Sheet moss!”

“Oh, sheet,” he jokes, lamely, but you laugh anyways.

A circular patch of moss gets pushed into the jars. Eddie’s fingers feel bulky and clumsy in comparison to your dexterous ones, but the praise you give him once the layer is settled makes it worth it.

He happily trails after you in search of more small greenery, listening to your lengthy explanations of each new addition, huffing in amazement when you come up with the scientific name for crabgrass.

“Christ, sweetheart.” He whistles low as soon as you’re done, reaching over to brush some sticky pine needles off your hip. “So fuckin’ smart. Would’ve killed to have you as my teacher back in the day, might’ve actually graduated on time.”

“I don’t think Hawkins High has a botany program.” Your reply comes distracted, but this time it’s because Eddie’s hand has found a home on the strip of skin between your skirt and top.

He rubs a thumb into your bare hip, moss jar hanging loose from his other hand as he pulls you towards him. “Yeah. Probably for the best. I think they frown on students who sleep with teachers. Couldn’t keep my hands off’a you.”

Chin tilted to meet him halfway, you give him a real good kiss, lips soft and smooth over his, parted slightly until the thrill of your wet tongue presses into his eager one.

“Gotta show you the best part.” When you pull back, sounding a little out of breath, you slip your hand into Eddie’s and lead the way to your original spot.

Two flat metal disks are procured from your pile of things; you hold one out for Eddie in your palm, explaining as he takes it- “Made this one special for you. It goes on top, like this-” you rotate the other disk until it slides into place over your jar. “Like a lid. But I had to make my own from scrap pieces ‘cuz the original mason lids didn’t take the markings.”

Eddie flips the homemade lid over in his hands to find a five-pointed star hugged by a circle, raised and tamped by hand into the metal. He blinks up at you, in awe. “You did this?”

“Yeah, it’s-” you must misread his wonder because the words spill out like you’re nervous, fiddling with the sides of your jar like you don’t want to see his expression anymore. “It’s a pentacle. Like from your Judas Priest poster? But this one’s not upside-down like his, so I meant it more for protection and prosperity. Y’know. To help keep your little world safe. And make it grow.”

Gently, a little unsure, you clink your jar against his in the sweetest cheers he’s ever seen.

Eddie swears again, achingly in love, then spins the lid tight over his new terrarium and grins at you. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

There’s no room for a buffer as a smile nearly splits your face in two, giggling, delighted with his affection. “Over a jar of dirt? Man, can’t wait to see what you promise me when I give you an even better gift.”

“I’ve got some ideas.” His voice pitches low, taking the jar from your hand to join his on the ground so he can wrap you up in his arms, properly. “Gonna have to come over a lot more and make sure I’m keeping it alive. Think of all those tiny ocelots depending on you.”

“Isopods,” you correct in a whisper, letting Eddie nuzzle into the crown of your hair, warm and smelling faintly of your bergamot shampoo. “And it only needs to be watered like, once a month, but I’ll come over way more than that.”

“You better.” Eddie puts on his best threatening tone. “I get crazier every hour we’re apart. Swear.”

He feels the curl of your smile against his sternum, and you let him hold you and sway in the afternoon sun.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x greenwitch!reader #greenwitch!reader #greenwitch #eddie munson x you

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death-paint · 7 months

Text

Spellbound

Leon Kennedy x Fem! Witch! Reader

Word Count: 2224

Warnings: sickeningly sweet fluff

Finally finished it! This fic has been in the works for months. Mainly because of writer's block and general executive dysfunction. It's definitely happier than my last fic, but I do also have another angst fic coming. This is my second time ever posting a fic on Tumblr, so please be gentle with any critique ;w; I hope you all enjoy!! Fic under the cut!!

Although this particular piece isn't NFSW, minors DO NOT INTERACT with my content.

dividers by @cafekitsune

You danced around the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, waving around a little stick of incense as the smoke wafted into the room. He scrunched up his nose at the smell, but stared at you affectionately from the doorway. The music you had playing only enhanced the mood as you finally set the incense in the holder before walking into the kitchen and setting it on the windowsill. You were in a good mood today, wiggling your hips as you washed the dishes, getting ready to cook dinner for the two of you.

Leon walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You swayed a little more dramatically as you felt his touch, humming along to the song that carried through the house as you spun around.

"Hey, baby," he said softly, "What's got you feelin' so good this afternoon?"

"Getting some new supplies in the mail," you reply. "Bought some stuff online from a small business that I've been waiting on for a while."

"What kind of supplies?" Leon asked, confused.

"You'll see." You giggled at his cluelessness. "I'll teach you everything you need to know once it's here."

"Aw, come on, babe you're killin' me," he groaned. "Just tell me."

"Nope." You stand firm as you finish washing the dishes from earlier that day, taking one of the pots and putting it on the stove for pasta. "You'll have to wait, baby."

He finally let it go and sat down at the dining table, watching as you worked your magic. You bent down into a lower cabinet, pulling out a mason jar full of water with writing scribbled on the lid, and poured it into the pot. Leon raised an eyebrow. Why would you need to jar water? Why was it labeled? Did it have something in it? How did he not see it in the cabinet before?

“Hey…What’s up with the jar?” He asked, curiosity ever-so-present in his voice.

“Oh, this?” You held up the now empty jar. “It’s a little bit of moon water I made last full moon.”

He let your explanation sit with him for a beat, but he was still confused.

“I-…Moon water?” You let out another giggle.

“Yeah, baby. Moon water. You put water in a clear container and let it sit outside at night during whatever moon phase you wanna make it in.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as you provided more information.

“And what’s that supposed to do?” He pressed further.

“Depends on the phase.” You answered nonchalantly, turning back around to salt the water in the pot before adding in the spaghetti noodles. Leon scoffed, giving a smirk and shaking his head even when you couldn’t see him. But you could hear it in his voice.

“I call bullshit.” He started. “You really expect me to believe that you think moonlight has some magical powers? Come on, babe.”

“I know it doesn’t…not in the way you’re thinking, at least,” you replied, now sounding almost sad. “I know, it sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

Leon immediately backtracked, taking note of how belittled you appeared to feel.

“Wait- no, I’m sorry, I…” He sighed, trying to find the words. “It’s just…an unfamiliar idea to me is all. I don’t mean to make you feel bad about it, hon.”

“Well…if you do it again I’m not gonna teach you,” you huffed, pulling cheese and a carton of heavy cream out of the fridge. You grabbed another pot, thought for a moment, and then put it back, deciding against making more dishes for yourself to clean. You turned to the windowsill, where the now spent incense lay in a pile of ash on its holder, next to the herbs you had in little flowerpots.

You plucked a few leaves of each. All for taste, as well as practising your craft. Rosemary, thyme and basil for love, oregano to strengthen the bond with your partner, garlic and parsley for protection, a little bit of onion powder for good health, salt and pepper to purify your energy, and a sprinkle of (common) sage to dispel negativity. You laid everything out on the nearby cutting board, wiping your hands and turning to the pot of noodles. The strainer was already in the sink, and you grabbed a measuring cup to fill it with some of the starchy water before dumping the rest down the drain, the noodles caught in the metal colander.

That same pot was used just moments later. You threw it back on the burner, quickly turning down the heat and throwing in just enough pasta water to cover the bottom. You were just about to pick up the block of cheese to grate it when Leon stood up from his chair, taking it from you and giving you a kiss on the cheek before grating it himself.

“Can’t have you doing everything by yourself, love.” It was your turn to scoff now.

“That was literally the only thing I had left,” you told him, eyebrows raised as you crossed your arms.

He shrugged.

“Just thought I should take care of the rest.”

“You’re an ass,” you playfully smacked his shoulder.

“You know you love me.” He looked up briefly from his task, grinning.

Soon enough, dinner was finished and the two of you curled up on the couch with full bellies, deciding to leave the dishes to be dealt with in the morning. The two of you took turns flicking through your usual channels, but nothing good was on tonight. You even flicked through some streaming networks, but to your dismay, still couldn’t find anything you hadn’t already finished or were even interested in starting.

“Hey…How about I give you a reading?” You asked, clasping your hands together and raising them to your mouth as you smiled, waiting for his response.

“First moon water, now the…card…thing?” He answered your question with another before giving a sigh. “Sure, why not.”

As soon as he gave his seemingly reluctant approval, you hopped up off the couch and quickly walked to the altar in the corner of the room. You’d done most of the decorating, seeing as Leon rarely had time (even when he was home) to worry about the aesthetics of his living space. He’d wondered what was up with all of the suns, moons and stars, the occasional seashell here and there, and just chalked it up to you having an eccentric taste– which, to be honest, wasn’t that far off. The wall above the altar was full of dried flowers, some from bouquets that Leon bought you, others foraged. If he was being honest, at first he thought they looked kind of creepy, but over time he learned to like it. He thought it was cute that you kept the flowers he bought you, figuring you putting them on display was your way of showing appreciation for his affection. Small animal bones and crystals were arranged carefully on the altar, along with candles of varying sizes and colors– some burned down a bit more than others– and little trinkets he’d brought home from missions as well.

Leon watched as you opened the drawer and pulled out a deck of tarot cards, taking in your excitement. He loved making you happy, even if it meant doing something he was a little skeptical about. He couldn’t help but crack a smile as he saw your own, affection filling his gaze as you plopped back down on the couch.

You pulled out the deck of cards and a notepad from its box, set the notebook down, and began to shuffle.

“Wait…Tarot readings tell you your past, present, and future, right?” Leon asked, bows furrowing quizzically.

“Not necessarily,” you explained. “Most readings will give you advice about a current situation. It might tell you what will happen if you don’t take that advice, though,”

“So…you’re giving me life advice…with cards?” He shot out another question. “Am I getting that right?”

“Well…yeah, pretty much.” You shrugged. “There’s different kind of readings, too. Financial readings, love readings, career readings…”

“Let’s just start with a general one, yeah?” Leon suggested, a bit nervous about being able to retain all that information.

“Alright…I’ll shuffle, you tell me when to stop, and I’ll pull a card. We’ll do that for a basic three card spread.” You picked up the pace, shuffling only a few cards around when Leon told you to pull the first card. You pulled it away from the deck and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. You shuffled again, a bit longer this time, rinse and repeat.

One by one, you turn the cards over.

“Wait, this one’s upside down…” Leon reached over to turn the card around, but you gently pushed his hand away.

“It’s supposed to be, babe. It has a meaning that way, too.” You turned the rest of the cards over. “King of Swords in reverse…Three of Cups…and Strength.”

“King of swords, and strength, huh? I must be a pretty macho man.” He chuckled.

“Well…The King of Swords in reverse can mean that you’re…impulsive or manipulative, kind of just…irrational,” you corrected him, treading lightly on your words and trying not to upset him.

“Irrational? Manipulative? When have I ever been manipulative?” his tone was defensive.

“Shush, don’t take it so personally, babe. They’re just cards.”

“Okay…what about the other two?” Leon huffed.

“Three of Cups represents happiness or overcoming some kind of hardship,” you turn to him, awaiting another response.

“Definitely have had a few of those,” he chuckled, calming down. “Alright, and the last one?”

“Strength represents…well, strength of course, and that you’re compassionate, patient, and that you can keep a cool head under pressure. Well, most of the time, seeing as you have the King of Swords in reverse as well.”

“Huh…well I guess that’s pretty accurate,” he said with a click of his tongue. “Can…I do one for you?”

“Of course!” You answered. “I can teach you how to read them, it’ll be fun!”

“Sure, okay. What’s next, you teach me spells?” He asked jokingly.

“I can!” Leon laughed briefly at your answer, before realizing you were serious.

You pulled up a website with a list of the meanings for the cards, and shoved the three cards from the previous reading back into the deck. You then handed the deck to Leon, having seen him shuffle cards before and knowing he was fairly good at it. He made a show of it, knowing you liked to watch as his skilled fingers cut the deck and shuffled effortlessly.

“How you want me to deal ‘em, pretty girl?” He smirked, finishing up when the first card fell out of the deck.

“You can do it however you feel is best, Leon,” you said. Leon nodded, opting to just pull the next two cards from the top. “I was thinking of asking about how things would work out between us, though.”

“Do you really need cards to tell you that?” Leon asked. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Let’s see…”

He flipped the first card over.

“The moon…What’s the moon gotta do with us?”

“Ooh…The Moon…” you repeat, your tone seeming to imply to him that the meaning was a bad one. “Complicated romance, uncertainty about love.”

Leon’s face dropped before he frantically turned over the next two cards,

“High priestess and queen of wands…”

“Keep patient, calm exterior with inner passion, intimacy…And for the Queen of Wands…an independent, cheerful and confident lover and… openness in the relationship.”

“And…What would that mean altogether?” Leon tilted is head with curiosity, his pretty blue eyes full of worry.

“Well, to me, it means that what we have is a bit hard to figure out at first, but if we stay patient with each other and communicate calmly, we’ll be okay.” You tilt your head back at him mockingly before continuing. “What’s the matter, mister? I thought you didn’t believe in this kind of stuff?”

“Pssh, I don’t” Leon scoffs. “Just…wanted to quiz you.”

“Mhm…sure, let’s go with that, love.” You shove the cards back into the deck and give him a kiss on the cheek before standing up to put the cards back on your altar. Leon goes through the collection of dvds on the shelf underneath the tv, and eventually pulls out something that looks like a shitty romcom. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“What? Don’t like it?” he asks.

“Never been a romcom kinda gal, you know that, Lee.” You reply.

“Fine, what do you wanna watch, then?”

“Let’s just play a game together or something.”

“Alright, but I’ll just watch you.”

Soon enough, after a couple hours of trying to figure out a puzzle, you finally got tired (and frustrated) enough to go to bed. You took a quick shower, changed into some pajamas, and climbed into bed next to Leon. He pulled you closer, noses brushing together as you tangled your legs with his own.

“I love you,” Leon whispered.

“Even if you think my witchy stuff is silly?” you asked, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Of course, baby.” Leon kissed your forehead as the two of you closed your eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.

“I love you too Leon. So much."

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x y/n #fanfic #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert

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nathaaaan · 2 months

Text

The Child of The Titian

More commonly known as “Empress Hecate”

Or “Luz”

Child of The Titan AU

that’s literally what it’s called, sue me.

Okay, so this is the part where I talk about this AU. If you wanna know more, keep reading! If you don’t, well uh, leave?

This won’t be long cause I’m not going over the whole story. Lol.

Background:

If you’re too lazy to read, allow me to summarize it. Luz is captured by Belos, and she believes that Eda and the others will come to save her.

But in COTT (Child of the Titan AUGH I like this name), Luz is not saved. A year later, a rebellion forms, and it’s led by the Clawthrone sisters and they’re ready to end Belos’ tyranny. But they’re also consistently looking for Luz. Eda searches for three more years until she forces herself to stop as it’s becoming unhealthy. Then, the rebellion organizes an attack on the throne. They fight, yada yada, Belos dies. They search for Luz a little while before they’re swarmed by scouts, and they’re tired from fighting Belos, so they leave. Thinking that they won.

I won’t talk about what happened to Luz in that span of time, as you might find out when I write the fic.

I will say five things;

1. Hecate can use magic like a witch, but it’s unstable and requires a lot of energy.

2. Palismen. BUT! Stringbean!!!

3. Hecate hates everyone, and everything expect for Hunter. Hunter’s okay. 👍

4. She wants to make the Isles better.

5. She wants to go home, and won’t hesitate if she has to fight anybody in the Rebellion.

Speaking of the Rebellion, let’s go over who’s all in it, shall we?

The Rebellion

(Raine couldn’t come up with a better name, and neither can I)

Founders/Leaders: Eda & Lilith Clawthorne.

Members: Amity Blight, Willow Park, Augustus Porter, Raine Whispers, Derwin, Ember, Katya, Principal Bump & all his students, Edric & Emira Blight, Alador Blight (eventually), Glandus High students, Dell & Gwen Clawthorne, Gilbert & Harvey Park, Perry Porter, Malphas, Morton, Puddles (Viney’s Griffin), Salty (recently), and Vee (when she realizes that something’s wrong with Luz, and after they find out Hecate is Luz.) Darius Deamonne & Eberwolf (eventually), other Wild Witches and Demons.

The Inquisition

Previously the Emperor’s Coven

Leader: Empress Hecate

Members: Hunter “The Golden Guard” (Head of Inquisition), Kikimora, Darius Deamonne (Abomination for now), Eberwolf (Beast for now), Scooter Crane (Bard), Terra Snapdragon (Plants), Adrian Graye Vernworth (Illusion), Mason (Construction), Vitimir (Potions), Hettie Cutburn (Healing), Osran (Oracle), Coven Scouts, The Warden, Coven Guards, Vee (for a while, other witches and demons.

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drachenfalter · 11 months

Note

I don't know how old the post was, but I like the idea of the construction and illusion covens having a small philosophy differences that leads them to butting heads.

With this in mind I now like to think that Mason and Adrian just hate each other because of all that.

I already headcannon that Adrian and Raine hate each other because of how different they are with performances and personality, but to add Mason to the mix here is really funny to me for some reason.

Adrian just has a lot of enemies. Raine, Gus, and now Mason lol.

I hadn't thought about bards in that equation yet!

So, I would think that Bards and Illusionists usually get along just fine, because they are both the creative type and often work together.

Usually. Because yes, Raine and Adrian can't stand each other.

Now, talking about Bard and Construction Magic, I'd say there is a bit more respect between those covens:

Playing an instrument is more physical than casting illusions and the effort and training needed is more apparent to a construction witch.

And of course, instruments need to be constructed, so bards are more likely to gain an appreciation for good craftsmanship.

But there are definitely also some bards that are elitist jerks, and some construction witches that see bards as weaklings.

Back to Adrian and Mason, I'd headcanon that the reason they don't get along is not because of their covens "rivalvry". Mason has no patience for such nonsense.

Mason dislikes Adrian because the latter is a terrible leader, and should never have been given the title of head witch. Mason can't stand incompetence.

Adrian on the other hand is fully on board with the whole rivalry between their covens and might even stoke the flames a bit if he can.

#the owl house #toh asks #head witch mason #adrian graye #raine whispers #toh mason #toh headcanons #toh covens #construction coven #bard coven #illusionist coven #also don't worry about how old the post was #though it must have been during season 2 #but this is tumblr so it's okay

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captainsophiestark · 8 months

Text

Witch's Intuition

Mason Lockwood x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day 2 Prompt: "Don't worry, I got you."

Summary: What if Mason Lockwood had somebody who cared about him when he came to town, somebody who could keep him from his canon fate? Alternatively, I really love Mason Lockwood and the show didn't do him justice, so I wanted to. Reader is described as a girl.

Word Count: 10,445 lmao

Category: Angst, fluff, humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed and stared straight ahead, hands still gripped tight on the steering wheel as I tried to psych myself up to get out of the car and go inside.

Damon Salvatore, my best friend in the entire world despite my better judgement, had asked me to come to a barbecue that Jenna Sommers was hosting. Her connection to Damon was ridiculous and confusing, and the entire barbecue was just a front for Damon and our mutual friend Ric to try to get a feel for the newest supernatural creature in town. And he wanted me here to help.

Mason Lockwood, the newest supernatural in question, had apparently gone to high school with Jenna and had recently returned to Mystic Falls. Damon felt confident he was a werewolf. As a witch, I knew for sure he was a werewolf, but absolutely no part of me wanted to get involved in the supernatural drama by telling him.

I should've known staying out of it would be impossible as long as Damon Salvatore remained my best friend.

At the sound of a knock on my window, I jumped so hard my head hit the roof of my car. I whipped around to find the werewolf I'd been thinking about standing outside my door, looking at me with a grin as he gave a little wave. I mentally cursed myself, then shoved open my door and climbed out.

"Hey," he said, giving me a bright smile that made butterflies explode in my chest. "I didn't realize you were coming to this, too."

Mason and I had met about a week ago at the grill, when he'd come over to the pool table and called winner on my game. I won, and we quickly hit it off the bat over the course of our first game, enough so that we ended up playing two more. He still didn't know I was a witch, and we'd only hung out a handful of times so far, but I still found my heart racing when he looked at me like he was looking at me now.

"Damon dragged me," I replied. "Although, I actually am excited to get to know Jenna a little better. And... others, at this party."

"Others?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. The grin took on a more flirty edge, and I couldn't help my heart speeding up a bit.

"Yeah, others. Other than Ric. I already know him."

"Okay," laughed Mason, fully throwing his head back as we started heading for the house together. "And I guess 'others' doesn't apply to Elena or Caroline either?"

"No, I know them too. I've heard all about the high school angst and then some."

"Did you tell them how much better it gets after graduation?"

"Oh yeah, I covered all the existential dread and challenge of trying to figure out what the hell to do with the rest of our lives."

"Okay good. As long as they know."

Mason and I shared a smile as we reached the door and he opened it for me, motioning for me to go ahead. I smiled, and we held our eye contact a few beats too long to be casual. Damon was going to kill me when he got here.

We quickly found Jenna and Elena in the kitchen, and I chatted with Elena a bit while Mason and Jenna caught up. I'd only gotten to Mystic Falls a little after the Salvatores, having graduated from college three years ago. At first, I'd come back to try to track down and record witch history, since so much of it was based here. But it didn't take me long to get sucked into the bullshit Damon and Stefan had found themselves neck-deep in as soon as I arrived.

For the first time, with Mason, I didn't totally mind it.

Within a few minutes of arrival, Mason decided it was time to go hunting for shot glasses and alcohol. Jenna pointed him in the right direction, and then he turned to me with a lopsided smile that made my heart stop in my chest.

"Come help me?"

"Sure thing."

I followed Mason through the house, leaving Jenna and Elena in the kitchen while we waited for everybody else to show up. He ducked into a closet, and I hovered just outside.

"Let's see here... Jenna's trying to be a responsible adult nowadays, but I bet I can still find where she stashed her old shot glasses..."

"I've spent too long finding cool shot glasses that I like to ever shove them all away in a closet forever," I mused, leaning against the door frame. Mason chuckled.

"I know what you mean. I've got different ones with the patterns of every surfboard I've ever owned."

I nodded. "That's nice, but I've got you beat. I've got supernatural-themed ones. For witches and vampires and werewolves."

Mason paused his searching to turn around and give me an appraising look. I shrugged, giving him a sheepish smile. He shook his head, but to my relief, he was smiling too.

"I should've realized you knew, with you being Damon's friend," he said, turning around to continue searching.

"Hey, I'm a born and raised witch. I knew about the supernatural long before Damon Salvatore ever came into my life, and I recognized what you were before he did too. Vampires have shittier senses than witches."

Mason snorted a laugh, then, pausing his search and half glancing back at me again, asked, "Did you tell him about me?"

"No. Damon can be a little... dramatic. I had no interest in him starting up a fight with my new favorite pool opponent."

Mason nodded, and thankfully, I caught a small smile on his face again.

"...You use some of that magic to cheat at pool?"

"Ha! That's also a no. I'm just a better player than you."

"Or maybe I just let you win," he said, turning to hand me a nice bottle of vodka that he'd dug out of the closet, a grin on his face.

"We can pretend that's what happened if you really want. But we both know the truth."

He sighed, then turned back around to grab the shot glasses he'd finally managed to find, shaking them to show me triumphantly.

"I guess we're just gonna have to go back to the Grill soon so you can teach me your ways."

"...It's a date."

Mason grinned and shot me a wink, then led me back through the house to the kitchen to rejoin Jenna and Elena. Elena, understandably, left when we started doing shots, and it wasn't much longer before Ric and Damon showed up. Jenna hated Damon, and after a few moments, Damon made it clear he wasn't going to be particularly friendly to Mason. I tried to ease the tension, but clearly, this barbecue wasn't going to be as fun and relaxing as the first ten minutes had been.

It didn't help that, every time I shared a moment with Mason, judgement absolutely radiated off of Damon. Lucky for me, I'd had a few years of practice ignoring those looks from him.

He'd told me today was a fact-finding mission, after all. And I was finding facts that pointed me towards liking Mason.

"I'm just saying, it doesn't take that long to set up Guitar Hero-"

"I will leave the party, Jenna," teased Mason, shooting her a smile as he plopped down on a loveseat in the living room next to me. "What else do we have? And by that, I mean literally anything else."

Jenna chucked a pillow at him, which Mason leaned into me to duck. I cackled, continuing to ignore the hell out of Damon staring at me from across the room.

"How about charades?" asked Alaric, bravely standing between Jenna and Mason even as Mason grabbed another pillow and cocked his arm back to throw it. "Or pictionary?"

"Pictionary sounds good to me!" Damon chimed in with an eagerness that made me incredibly suspicious. "I'll go get the board."

Low and behold, a few rounds later, Damon was using it to make ridiculously obvious werewolf references at Mason. The one silver lining was that Mason was as irritated with him as me, so we bonded a little as we gave him deadpan answers for things like Dances With Wolves as a pictionary clue. Jenna, the only one in the room completely out of the loop, also helped immensely by criticizing Damon's art every chance she got. I loved him, but he absolutely deserved every dig. Besides, his ego could take it.

After many rounds of various party games (although not Guitar Hero, at least not yet), we made our way to the table in the kitchen for some dessert. Elena and Caroline had left, which just left the adults. If Damon hadn't been dragging Mason into a pissing contest, it would've been the perfect party.

Alas, instead, Damon decided to continue to poke the bear, so to speak.

"Mason! Why don't you start us off," Damon said, bringing the pie to the table with a silver serving knife and setting it down directly in front of Mason. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

Mason looked at Damon, then turned the pie until the knife faced away from him before grabbing a slice with his bare hands. Damon and Ric shared a triumphant look.

"What?" said Mason, a slight edge to his tone as he stared right back at Damon. "I apologize. I'm an animal."

I shook my head, turning my attention to Jenna instead of the two of them staring each other down as she joined us at the table.

"So Mason, you and Jenna never dated?" asked Ric, apparently trying to break the tension between Mason and Damon. A valiant effort, but knowing Damon, I doubted he'd succeed.

"She was always lost in Logan Fell-land," Mason replied. Jenna huffed a laugh.

"Oh, my first mistake. Mason was a catch. He had girls lining up."

"Really?" said Damon, that fake-friendly tone in his voice that I knew meant trouble. "Huh. I always pegged you for a lone wolf."

"I'm sure I wasn't half the lady killer you were," Mason shot back without missing a beat. I snorted into my drink, completely failing to keep a smile off my face. Mason cut his eyes to me, the edge in his own smile fading for the briefest of seconds, before he looked back at Damon and raised his glass in toast. "To new friends."

He and Damon didn't take their eyes off each other once as we all clinked glasses and cheersed. When Damon kept doing his stare-down and looked ready to keep it up for the duration of pie, I kicked him under the table as hard as I could. He turned to glare at me, but their stare down was broken, and with Jenna's increasingly tipsy help we managed to turn things back into a mostly-friendly barbecue.

As the night went on, I found myself getting a new best friend in Jenna, with each joke she made and wink she shot in my direction when I sat particularly close to Mason. We moved back into the living room, sprawling on the couches with another round of beers. Jenna was much, much tipsier than I was, but I was having enough fun that I decided to lean into it more than I actually felt it. We cackled together as she told high school stories about Mason, then cheered like maniacs together when she finally pulled out Guitar Hero, against the protests of Mason and Ric.

"Alright, I'm gonna need another drink if we're really doing that," Mason sighed, a smile on his face all the same. He stood and headed into the kitchen, where I knew Damon was. I wanted to ignore it and get my literal groove on with Jenna, but I couldn't. I stood with a sigh and moved to follow him.

"Go get him girl!" Jenna called after me with a little 'whoop'! I whipped around, face burning, but she just grinned at me and winked. I shook my head, but found myself grinning back as I turned and left the room.

By the time I got to the kitchen, I could already hear Damon and Mason talking. Rather than interrupting to immediately change the topic or insert myself into the conversation, however, I decided to listen in. That way I could gauge just how hostile Damon and Mason were being to each other, and react accordingly.

"Come on, man, you don't think I know what this barbecue is about?" came Mason's voice.

"How do you know about me?" Damon, demanding, any of the fake-friendliness gone. "Your brother was completely clueless."

"It doesn't matter. I'm not your enemy, Damon."

"You tried to kill my brother." I fought back a scoff. That was a stretch, and we both knew it.

"That was a mistake."

"Really?"

"There was confusion. I couldn't chain myself up in time." Their voices had started coming closer, but I stayed put. "I have no control once I shift."

"What, no obedience school?"

"I'm serious. Let's not spark some age-old feud that doesn't apply to us."

"You expect me to believe that you're in Mystic Falls planting peace trees?"

"I lost my brother. My nephew lost his father. I'm here for my family."

And with that, I'd heard all I needed to hear. Damon, my best friend, as usual, was the aggressor. Thankfully, this time, it sounded like Mason might've made an argument that convinced him. We had bigger problems than one generally chill werewolf, after all.

I left, returning to Jenna and Ric and Guitar Hero. She smiled at me, clearly thinking I'd had a conversation with Mason I hadn't really had, and I leaned into it as she passed me a plastic guitar. Mason returned to the room a few moments later, followed by Damon. I ignored them both as I pretended to shred, and to both their credit, they cheered me on.

The rest of the party was a blast, with Mason much more relaxed after his conversation with Damon and Damon finally dropping all the stupid wolf jokes. Jenna and I acted ridiculous and had the time of our lives doing it, and whenever I wasn't shredding the imaginary guitar, Mason and I leaned against each other, laughing and talking the night away.

Finally, once I'd sobered up more and the sun had long-since gone down, and Jenna and I had finished half the songs on Guitar Hero, we wound up the party and all headed home. Damon stayed a moment longer to talk with Ric, so after giving Jenna a goodbye hug, I headed for my car without him. To my delight, Mason came with me, walking me to my car.

"You know, you're a little too good at Guitar Hero, I think," he said, bumping his shoulder into mine as we walked. I chuckled.

"And you're a little too ridiculously set against that game," I teased back. "What's the matter, you don't like fun?"

"I don't like watching Jenna butchering Black Sabbath. Watching you was... a little more fun."

I paused as we reached my car, smiling up at Mason with a glowing feeling in my chest. He smiled back at me, leaning against the front panel of my car.

"It was great getting to know you better tonight," I said, smiling at him and stalling the moment I'd actually have to leave. He grinned at me.

"You too. And I'd love to keep getting to know you better. Maybe at Volunteer Day tomorrow?"

"I was already planning on going, but it'll be much more fun with you there."

"Great." He flashed me a heart-stopping smile. "It's a date."

I was practically floating as I drove away, replaying the end of the night with Mason in my mind over and over again. The last time I'd felt anything like what I was starting to feel now... well, it hadn't ended well. I'd gotten Damon as a best friend out of it, which was a net positive no matter how much he annoyed me sometimes, but everything else had been an absolute nightmare. For the first time in three years, I found myself wanting to risk the heartache and get close to somebody in a non-friendship way again.

I'd been staying with Stefan and Damon since I got to town, and I expected a long lecture about 'flirting with the enemy' from Damon when I got home. But, blissfully, the house was empty. I wandered upstairs and fell into bed, thoughts of seeing Mason tomorrow letting me drift off with a smile on my face.

I should've known nothing in this town, in this world of supernaturals, could ever go that smoothly.

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

The next morning, I woke up bright and early, unusually excited about Volunteer Day. A certain werewolf definitely had something to do with that, but thankfully, neither of the Salvatores was around on my way out to grill me about the grin on my face.

I'd gotten Mason's number last night, so I quickly shot off a text saying I was making a pre-volunteering coffee run and asking if he wanted anything. I took my time heading to my favorite coffee place, and the line was long enough that I waited at least ten minutes, but I didn't hear anything back from Mason.

I tried not to let it get to me as I ordered my usual, then an iced latte for Mason. Hopefully he would like it, and if he didn't, then at least it wouldn't go to waste, since I was always down for an iced latte.

I ended up arriving a little late to the event, but I wasn't complaining too much, since it meant I missed Carol Lockwood's speech. I scanned the crowd for Mason, then smiled when I noticed him under a newly-built picnic awning. Instead of smiling back, he looked away like he'd barely noticed me, continuing his conversation with Sheriff Forbes. I frowned.

I caught up to him walking away from the picnic awning, not too far into the newer part of the park that we were supposed to be fixing up today before its official opening. He walked quickly, and was apparently pretending not to notice me.

"Hey. Hey, Mason!"

He stopped and turned around with a frustrated sigh, his hands on his hips. The coffees lowered in my hands a little, and part of me suddenly wanted to run back the way I'd come from.

"What do you want?" he asked, none of the warmth or flirtiness from yesterday in his voice.

"I... brought you a coffee..." I said, holding it out to him slowly. He just stared at it. "Is something wrong?"

He huffed a humorless laugh. "That has to be a joke, right?"

"No, actually, it's not," I said, my temper flaring. "You're acting like a dick and I have no idea why, so-"

"You have no idea why?" He looked at me like he absolutely didn't believe me, and I just stared right back as I shook my head. Slowly, the anger fell from his face, to a more cautious confusion. "You don't know where your best friend, who you live with, went last night? Or what he did?"

"Oh God," I shook my head and dropped Mason's gaze, muttering to the leaves more than to him. "I knew I should've been worried when he didn't come home last night. Why can't he ever be out late for normal reasons?"

I sighed, shaking myself out of my thoughts and steeling my resolve as I looked at Mason again. The anger, at least, had gone from his face.

"I have no idea where Damon went or what he did last night," I said. "But... I feel like I should start by offering an apology on his behalf anyway? Maybe in the form of this iced latte I brought?"

Mason huffed a laugh and looked into the tree line, but I caught a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The relief washing through my body almost took me to my knees.

"Yeah, alright," he finally said, taking a few steps closer and taking the latte from me. He looked me up and down as he sipped it, holding my gaze for a few long moments afterwards. I didn't look away once. "Damon stabbed me with a silver knife last night."

My eyes went wide, and a second later, dropped to Mason's chest to scan for any lingering sign of injury. Thankfully, he seemed to be fine.

"I thought... I thought you guys made peace last night?" I finally asked, meeting Mason's eyes again once I was satisfied he was healthy.

"I thought so too. But apparently Damon doesn't want peace. Stefan started the morning out with a little extra threat today, too, to try to keep me from getting revenge."

I sighed heavily, closing my eyes and shaking my head. I could feel a headache coming on.

"I'm so sorry, Mason," I said. "Ugh, I wish you would've told me when it happened. Or that Damon would've mentioned his stupid little plan, or Ric-"

"Why? You think the Salvatores would listen to you telling them not to come after me? You think Damon would listen to that?"

"Damon is... well, he's a lot of things. But if I talk to him, he'll back off."

Mason raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't understand how you're friends with him. Except maybe a dangerous level of delusion. He doesn't care about anybody but his own agenda. I've barely known him a day and I can already see that."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, debating my options. I had some very good reasons for trusting Damon as much as I did, but I wasn't totally sure I wanted to get into them, especially not with someone I'd only recently met. But that someone was starting to become important to me. I sighed, then knocked back the rest of my iced coffee. Decision made.

"Alright, listen. I don't owe you an explanation or a justification of my relationship with Damon. But... I like you. A lot. So I want you to know, so you can maybe understand."

Mason nodded, his expression thankfully more curious and open than anything else. We moved a few more feet away from the rest of the volunteer activities happening behind us to sit on a bench together, and I tried not to let our proximity and touching knees distract me.

"Okay, so, in college... I dated this guy."

"Don't tell me it was Damon."

I made a face. "Uck! Never."

"Okay, good," Mason laughed. "Sorry, I promise that'll be my one and only interruption.

"Honestly, it's probably better that we got that cleared up right away. I love him very much, but I would absolutely never date him."

"Good."

Mason held my eyes for an extra second, a little bit of that flirty behavior returning, and I felt heat rising to my cheeks. I cleared my throat and tried to refocus.

"Anyway, I dated this guy for a while. He wasn't Damon, but he was a vampire. I'm a witch, as you know, and I was raised knowing about my powers and everything else, so I knew a good amount about the supernatural world. I actually had class with him—his name was Andy—my freshman year, and we sat next to each other. I clocked him as a vampire immediately, and I don't think he was used to that.

"I wasn't sure about him at first, what with the whole vampire thing, but... we saw each other a lot. Same classes, all that. He was always nice, and funny, and when he eventually asked me out, I said yes.

"I'll skip to the important part, but basically, we dated for three years. By the time we were graduating, I'd fallen head over heels in love. I knew what he was, I knew the thought of 'together forever' brought a lot of problems we'd have to work through, including whether I could stand to stop being a witch and whether I could live with the curse of immortality. But... I knew we'd figure it out, together. I was convinced he was the love of my life."

I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to brace myself for what came next. This was only the second or third time I'd gone through it in the few years since it'd happened. Mason, to his credit, stayed quiet, letting me take my time.

"Right around graduation, when we were supposed to be doing ridiculous Senior Week activities and getting rid of the last of our assignments, taking pictures and getting ready to walk... all the supernatural drama and danger you can imagine came crashing down on our heads. Brought to our doorstep by Andy."

I shook my head, angry at myself as much as at Andy as the memories replayed, as vivid as the day they'd happened.

"He'd gotten involved in some ridiculous scheme with some other vampires, trying to prove some lore was real or something, and they needed a powerful witch. Without asking, Andy had volunteered me. When I didn't want to help, he threatened me, and left me to the wolves—no pun intended, sorry—left me to the vampires when they tried to force me to help. Damon stepped in and stopped them.

"Don't get me wrong, I know it was a completely selfish move," I said, finally looking at Mason again. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he moved a little closer, stopping just short of putting us shoulder to shoulder. "He wanted to stop the plan and the ritual and the spell, it had nothing to do with helping me. But once Andy and everyone around us was dead... I just fell apart. Damon, for all he acts the bad guy, didn't ditch me. I've asked him a couple times and he always brushes it off like it was nothing, but... he saved me in more ways than one that night. Since then, we've had each others' backs. It's kind of a weird friendship, but he's put his own life on the line to protect me more than once since then. I've done the same. I trust him completely, for the things where it really counts."

Mason sighed through his nose, looking away from me finally to stare at the ground. I watched him, watched his eyes dart around as he thought, until he met my eyes again.

"I get it. The people that pick you up and carry you through stuff like that... it's a special kind of bond. If you have that with Damon... I get it." We held eye contact for a few more moments, a wordless heaviness passing between us, and then Mason grinned. "So, what you're saying is I count as the important stuff for you?"

I bit my lip and looked away, fighting a smile and quickly losing to it.

"I... yeah, I guess I am saying that."

Mason and I laughed and worked together for a while longer on our various cleanup duties, until he told me he needed to go do trash duty in the woods, since the Sheriff had asked him to. I gave him my empty latte cup as a start, watching him with a smile as he walked away.

I tried to busy myself with volunteer work, the thing I'd actually come here for today, to keep my mind from running wild about Mason. I only half-succeeded. I hadn't felt anything close to this for somebody since Andy, and it scared me and thrilled me at the same time. The needle pinged back and forth between the two, but when Mason came back out of the woods looking rumpled, guilty, and glancing over his shoulder, it jumped all the way to scared.

"Mason?" I called, hurrying over to him. He shook his head, trying to duck past me again, but when I put a hand on his arm he stopped. "What happened?"

"Y/N..."

"Mason, what happened?" I pulled my attention from him, quickly scanning the gathered volunteers and then doing it again. Damon and Stefan were nowhere to be found. "What happened?"

Mason met my eyes and hesitated. Then, finally, "They tried to kill me. In the woods. They surrounded me, and Damon told me he'd give me a running head start before they ripped my heart out of my chest."

Immediately, my eyes darted to the woods behind Mason, scanning for my best friend. Ready to stop him. Until Mason continued.

"They're not coming back."

My eyes snapped to his again. "Explain."

"I told the Sheriff what they were. She's taking care of it."

I sprang back from Mason like touching him had burned me. He winced, but didn't do anything else.

"Are you kidding me? After everything I told you, everything we talked about?"

"I didn't have a whole lot of choice, between them and death. Besides, I told the Sheriff before I talked to you."

"Mason, you should have told to me! I would've talked to them, I would've made sure they didn't go after you if I knew it was such a pressing thing! We could've figured out the issue with the Sheriff together! What were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry. But it was kill or be killed-"

"This! This is why I hate this supernatural shit!" My voice had risen to a yell, but I didn't care. We were far enough away from everyone that they probably still couldn't hear me. And what did it matter, anyway? The Council already knew. "This is why nobody ever finds any lasting peace or happiness in this stupid, ridiculous world. Everyone is so fixated on revenge and killing anyone they feel even remotely threatened by. If you'd come to me, I could've kept you safe. Instead, you might've just gotten my best friend killed."

My voice broke on the last word, and I pushed past Mason and started for the woods before he could catch me crying. Unfortunately, he caught my arm before I could get away and turned me to face him, immediately dropping his grip when I tried to pull away.

"I am sorry. I really am. But I didn't know they would follow me into the woods. And they were ready to kill me. When I saw the Sheriff's people over Stefan's shoulder, it seemed like my only way out. I'm sorry."

I took a deep breath, giving him a curt nod before turning again and taking off into the woods, hoping against hope I could get to Damon and Stefan before it was too late. Things had gotten so out of hand, so fast. All I could do was focus on putting out one fire at a time, and hope we all came out of this alive.

I started at the Lockwood cellar, but found it empty. The floor had fresh blood on it, though, and with a little magic I traced Damon and Stefan back to the Salvatore Boarding House. That felt like a good sign.

I pulled into the driveway and sprang out of my car, slamming the door to the house open. I could see Caroline passed out on the couch, which didn't entirely make me feel better as I sprinted up to Damon's room.

I slammed the door open without bothering to knock, only to come face to face with my best friend, unharmed, shirtless, and staring at me like I was insane.

"Don't you ever knock?" he demanded, sounding exasperated as he pulled his shirt over his head. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of me, and I rushed over to hug him.

"You're one to talk," I shot back, wrapping him tighter in my embrace as I did. After a second, his arms came around me too and squeezed back.

"What's wrong?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I thought... I thought you might be dead."

"Well, I'm not." Slowly, gently, he pulled away. He grabbed my arms, looking intently into my eyes for a few long moments. "I'm not. Alright?"

I nodded, the adrenaline fading and leaving exhaustion in its place. I plopped down on his bed as he moved to shut the door.

"Can't have you getting me all sappy in public and ruining my reputation," he explained. I huffed a laugh, but quickly sobered as he sat next to me. I watched him, neither of us speaking for a minute, until he raised an eyebrow. "So... was that it, or...?"

"You can't go after Mason anymore."

"What?" he cried, shooting up and glaring at me. "What the hell are you talking about? He tried to kill me today. The Sheriff is in our basement right now while we wait for the vervain to work through her system because he exposed us. That mutt is dead."

"No. Damon, no," I said, standing too as I spoke. A strange calm had washed over me, and I met Damon's wild eyes with it. "Not Mason."

"Oh, gross. Really? Him?" He raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at me. "Besides being a werewolf, he's a surfer. Are you serious?"

"Damon, come on. Just let it go. Just this once, end the cycle of revenge. You stabbed him, Stefan threatened him, he exposed you to the Sheriff, you tried to kill him, he tried to kill you. You're even, sort of. Just let this one go."

"How about, instead... I kill him?" The inappropriate brightness in his tone usually just made me roll my eyes or sigh while still sort of endearing him to me, but not this time.

"No! Damon, I'm not joking! This isn't some stupid thing where you can just turn around and break promises and it's fine! I never draw a line in the sand, but I am this time! I haven't felt anything close to this, not once, since Andy. And I am not going through anything like that again! You were right the first time. I'm glad you killed Andy, you saved me doing it. But I don't ever want to live through that again. This time is different, he's different. And I know I haven't technically known him very long, but just... please. Not Mason."

Damon held my stare for a few long, long moments, assessing. I stared right back, leaving every single thing I felt clear as day on my face, an open book for him to read. Finally, he sighed and rolled his eyes, in that exaggerated way he did whenever he gave in.

"Fine. I promise I won't kill Mason."

"Or try to kill Mason?"

"Yes, alright? If you're that convinced he's different... then fine. This one's different."

I flung myself forward and wrapped my arms tight around his middle before he could stop me. He grunted and grumbled, but hugged me back after a second anyway.

"Thanks, Day."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get out of here and get some sleep before someone catches me hugging you, alright?"

I pulled back with a grin. "Deal. Softie."

Damon narrowed his eyes at me, but I just cackled and bounced out of the room. It had been a long, stressful day, but things were looking up. Tomorrow, I'd talk to Mason. And this time would be different.

I passed out in bed as soon as my head hit the pillow. Today had been a long, emotional day, and I still had a few supernaturals to talk to tomorrow, since Stefan needed to be looped in too. I'd need all the rest I could get.

I got up the next morning a little later than I'd planned to, then dressed quickly to head over to the Lockwood's. I was helping set up for the upcoming masquerade ball, and I needed to talk to Mason. After getting coffee, of course.

As I headed down the stairs, I heard voices from the living room. I listened more closely as I approached, and I heard Damon say something like "this changes things" before they stopped at my arrival. I found Damon and Jeremy both looking at me like I'd interrupted something.

"Good morning..." I said, slowly reaching to retrieve my keys as I stared at them both suspiciously.

"Good morning," said Damon, flashing me a smile that didn't reach his eyes as Jeremy gave me a little nod.

"Everything okay in here...?"

"Completely."

I narrowed my eyes, glancing from Damon to Jeremy, then finally sighed.

"Alright, I have places to be and not enough willpower to involve myself in whatever this is. Just... don't do anything over the top stupid, alright?"

Both boys just gave little signs of acknowledgement as I slowly backed towards the door. I kept waiting for one of them to break, or for some obvious thing to jump out and catch my attention, but nothing came. I reached the door and finally turned my back on both of them, just hoping I wouldn't regret it.

I never got a moment of peace in Mystic Falls. Witch history and best friend or not, I might need to ditch this place sooner rather than later. Damon could come visit me somewhere with less supernatural drama.

This time, I only got one iced latte at the coffee shop before heading to the Lockwood's. As soon as I parked my car, I started scanning for Stefan, so I could talk to him and get him on the same page as Damon. The last thing I needed was the calmer Salvatore brother ruining the progress I'd made.

Thankfully, it didn't take me long to find him, or to convince him to leave Mason alone. He'd apparently only gotten on the same page as Damon about killing Mason after Mason had made a few threats of his own, and he said if I believed peace was still an option (especially one that I could sell Damon on), then he'd be happy to support me.

That left me with one last supernatural to work things out with. I had to do a few laps of the venue to find Mason, even though it was sort of his house. I finally managed to track him down outside, by a big pond a little distance away from the rest of everyone. He gave me a small smile when he saw me coming.

"What? No coffee for me today?"

"Coffee is only for people who haven't tried to kill my friends in the last twenty-four hours." The smile immediately dropped off Mason's face, his whole demeanor sobering.

"Look, Y/N-"

"Lucky for you, that timer expires tomorrow," I continued. "So... if we get roped into a third volunteer thing in three days, you can count on coffee for that."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again, this time a little more cautious.

"Does that mean we're okay?"

I took a deep breath, then nodded.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, Damon and Stefan are alive. I've talked to both of them. They both agreed to drop it. The three of you have done a bunch of mutual threatening and murder-attempting in the past forty-eight hours, and Damon understands that this is one of those important things he can't just brush off. They're willing to make peace, and actually mean it, from now on. For me. Can you do the same?"

Mason frowned and looked away, his eyes scanning the grass, pond, trees, and everything else while he thought. He shook his head, presumably to himself, then finally met my eyes again. He squared his shoulders, and through all of the emotions I'd experienced from him since I'd met him, he'd never been this serious.

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do the same. I don't want to get killed by a vampire, or get mixed up in trying so hard to kill one, let alone two. If they back off, for real... I'm happy to do the same."

I smiled, not as bright and full of joy as the first few times Mason and I had spent time together, but just a little ray of hope shining through after the storm I'd just weathered.

"Thank you."

He nodded, then that easy smile that had gotten a special place in my heart so quickly returned.

"So... this masquerade stuff, there's a ton of people here to help with it. Do you want to go for a walk instead?"

"I'd love that."

We took our time doing a full lap around the pond at turtle-speed, laughing and talking the entire time. We eventually did rejoin the rest of the workforce, but I didn't mind it as much as I thought I would. We sorted masks and hung decorations together, which made it better. Mason even gave me a better introduction to his nephew, Tyler, who I'd only vaguely known before.

"Hey, pay attention," teased Mason, nudging me with his shoulder as we stood together, untangling a frankly ridiculous amount of lights with Tyler's help.

"I can't," I whined. "I'm falling asleep at the wheel. One coffee isn't even close to enough caffeine to wake me up."

"I could go on a coffee run," he suggested. I turned to him with wide eyes and an exaggerated gasp.

"You would be my hero forever."

He laughed. "Alright, alright, I'm on it. I'll take any excuse to get away from these lights. Ty, you want anything?"

"Sure. Black coffee."

"Alright. I'll be back in a few."

I smiled after him as he jogged up the lawn, only looking away when he finally disappeared from sight. As I turned back to the lights, I found Tyler staring at me with a raised eyebrow. I cleared my throat.

"You really like him, don't you?"

I sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

Tyler nodded, first to me then to himself, as he returned to working on the lights. I watched him for a minute, then continued.

"I know we don't actually know each other that well, so this might be over the line, but... I can tell he really cares about you. He talks about you a lot. I think he'd walk through fire for you. And I think he'd want you to know that."

Tyler glanced up at me, jaw tight, but he nodded all the same. He muttered a "thanks", and then we went back to our work, mostly in silence except for long strings of expletives for this Gordian Knot of a light string.

The glowing happiness in my chest kept me going without the coffee for a while, until I started to notice just how long it had been since Mason left. Tyler had moved on due to frustration with the lights, and now stood across the lawn, but Mason was nowhere to be found. Even if the line had been out the door, he should've been back by now.

I scanned the crowd again, looking for a few specific people and only finding one of them. Stefan was still here, but Damon and Jeremy were conspicuously missing. I started walking to Stefan, picking up the pace when I noticed Bonnie missing too.

"Stefan," I said, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I tried to keep my panic under control. "Where is Damon?"

"Listen, you have to stay calm, alright-?"

"No, not alright! Where is Damon? Or, actually, no. Where is Mason?"

"He's dating Katherine. Bonnie touched him, and she had a vision about him. He's got the moonstone, and he's with her. He's been lying to all of us. Things have changed since this morning."

"Things have- fuck. That's exactly what Damon was saying to Jeremy this morning," I shook my head, mentally kicking myself for not putting the pieces together faster. "Where are they, Stefan?"

"Did you not hear me? He's working with the enemy-"

"Stefan Salvatore. I will ask you one more time, and then it'll be my turn to cross some fucking lines. Where. Are. They."

Stefan watched me for a moment, considering. Then, finally, he said, "They're at the boarding house."

I barely waited for him to finish his answer before I took off running. My lungs burned as I raced through the people swarming around Lockwood Manor, towards where I'd left my car. Apparently, Damon had decided that Bonnie's vision of Mason and Katherine, whatever else it meant, gave him a pass to change the rules. To break the promise he made to me last night. Which meant, if I didn't move fast enough, I might never see Mason again.

I flung myself into the driver's seat of my car, then took off for the Salvatore Boarding House. I barely managed to stay on the right side of 'safe driver', and made it there in record time. I screeched to a stop in front of the house, and as soon as I stepped out of my car, I heard Mason scream from inside. My heart dropped to my feet as I raced forward, flung the door open, and rushed inside.

I could see Damon hovering over someone, presumably Mason, in a chair with it's back to me. Jeremy hovered off to the side, looking horrified but refusing to do something or leave. I shoved past Jeremy roughly, flinging out my arms and using a burst of magic to send Damon flying into the nearest wall and away from Mason.

"What is WRONG with you?" I cried, raging at Damon, feeling an anger like I'd never felt towards my best friend before. "Did everything we talked about mean nothing to you? I know you have some crazy need to do everything the violent way, and I've never let it get to me before, but you've also never backstabbed me before! How could you do this to me?"

"You don't understand-"

"I understand perfectly."

With one last shove of my magic at Damon, I whirled around to look at Mason. He was bound to a chair from the dining room, covered in his own blood, a hopeless, broken look in his eyes. I tried not to break with him as I dropped to my knees and started working to untie him.

"It's okay, it's okay," I said, talking to keep myself calm as much as to keep Mason calm. "Don't worry, I got you."

Mason didn't respond, and I spared a glance up at him to see him watching me, his face contorted in pain. I did my best to speed up, but it was harder to work the ropes and chains with how badly my hands were shaking.

"He's in love with Katherine," came Damon's voice from behind me. There was no fight or victory in his words, and I still trusted him enough to leave my back to him, even as I ignored him. "He told me himself before you came in. He doesn't love you, he loves her. Like every other poor sucker she's brainwashed and ditched over the years."

I huffed a breath through my nose as I finally managed to remove the last of Mason's restraints, then stood to face Damon. He was still a good distance away, not threatening, just watching. Posture relaxed, face pressed into a concerned frown. Jeremy stood over his shoulder, watching us like a tennis match.

"Is that supposed to make me willing to let you torture and kill him?"

Damon shrugged, an insufferable look that I knew very, very well crossing his face.

"This isn't a joke, Damon. Just because you get some new information doesn't mean everything we talked about last night ceases to be important. You should have talked to me. Like a rational person! Not done... this," my voice broke a little on the final word as I pictured Mason again, those empty eyes that had been so full of light and joy before. "Tell me something. If I hadn't shown up... were you going to kill him?"

Damon looked away, and I had my answer. I snorted, then turned to help Mason stand, slinging one of his arms over my shoulder. He was incredibly heavy, and he wasn't strong enough to be much help either, but I could manage.

"I would've been doing him a favor," Damon finally said, calling after me as I helped Mason limp towards the door. "I've been where he is. I know what it's like to be lost in Katherine land. There's no hope for him."

I just raised my middle finger back at him as we continued to the door. I didn't look back as the front door shut behind me and I loaded Mason into the passenger seat of my car, then climbed into the driver's seat. I started the engine, but just kept staring straight ahead, a thousand different thoughts and noises racing around in my mind all at once. I tried to focus on one, to process things slowly, but I couldn't. So, I forced all of it out, instead keeping my eyes locked on the road ahead and pretending nothing else existed. I could do that, just long enough to get out of here.

Mason didn't speak, move, or make a sound for the entire drive back to the Lockwood house. It wasn't the safest place for him, but I didn't know where else to take him. I stayed silent, too, focusing entirely on trying to fight the wave of everything threatening to crash over me in the middle of evening traffic.

Thankfully, when we got back to the Lockwood house, all the volunteers had gone. I helped Mason out of the car, then continued to be his crutch as we limped through the front door. He broke his silence long enough to point me towards his room, and I helped him up the stairs and through the door. As gently as possible, I helped him ease down on the bed. His super-healing would fix the physical injuries fairly quickly all things considered, but Damon had spent the afternoon torturing him. That wasn't as easy to get past.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked. I knew it was a stupid question, especially with everything else floating around in my head, but I needed to know what he'd say. To gauge how close he might be to okay.

Mason sighed and ran a hand through his hair, refusing to meet my eyes.

"I'm fine. Or at least... I guess I will be."

I nodded. "I'm glad." And I meant it.

Mason huffed another heavy, heavy sigh, then finally looked up at me.

"Thank you. For saving me."

"Yeah, of course. I... I'm sorry I was wrong. That Damon went right back to... that."

Mason waved me off, rubbing the back of his neck and staring holes in the carpet. The silence hung between us, and I took a shuffling step backwards before deciding I couldn't leave without a few answers, even if Mason clearly felt like shit.

"Is it true?" I asked, still hovering by the doorway. Mason flinched, and I knew he knew what I meant, but I continued anyway. "What Damon and Stefan said... are you with Katherine?"

Mason grimaced and ducked his head, not meeting my eyes. I took a few more steps across the room towards him.

"Mason. Please answer me."

He huffed a hollow laugh, then looked up at me, pain written all over his face.

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head. This time, it was my turn for the hollow laugh.

"I'm so, so sorry. I was trying to help her. I... I love her. Or at least, I did... I thought she loved me too..."

"Katherine doesn't love anybody," I spat, my voice full of venom. "I watched Damon wrestle with that realization for a few years. Did she ever tell you? She played him and Stefan against each other, dated and toyed with them both in 1864. Escaped from being trapped with twenty-six other vampires and never looked back, all while she let Damon chase after her, knowing full well he was trying to find a way to save her from a trap she wasn't in. For almost a hundred and fifty years. She's ditched and killed and betrayed everyone she's ever been with, Mason. Think about that long and hard before you really decide to stick with her."

With that, I turned on my heel, the first tears starting to fall as I wrenched the door open. It slammed closed again before I could get through it, and I turned to find Mason standing before me, one arm extended to keep the door shut. He looked torn and pained, even more so when he noticed the tears I failed to hold back.

"I need you to know... it was real. I wasn't... faking it, or whatever, all those times we hung out. I... really do like you." I scoffed, but he continued before I could tell him off. "It's just... Kath was there for me after I triggered my curse. My friend kept coming at me, trying to beat me up because he thought I was sleeping with his girlfriend, which I wasn't. I pushed him too hard, and he fell, and... and he died. I killed him. That same night was the first night I transformed. Kath was there for me then, and for every minute after. She's... my Damon."

"Ha!" I shouted, shoving Mason's chest and pushing him back with all the force I could muster. He stumbled back more than a few steps, apparently still weak from whatever Damon had done. "Don't you ever, ever compare them. Damon sucks, and does bad things that hurt the people he cares about. Don't think I don't know that. But the difference is, he actually has people he cares about.

"And before you go running back to Katherine, after I saved your life, you should really think Mason: Katherine wants the moonstone. You got her the moonstone. If she knew you could get it for her, then what might she have done to make you want to get it for her?"

Mason shook his head, slowly at first and then faster and faster.

"No. No, she can't compel me. I know she can't."

"Sure. But I bet she could compel your friend. I mean, did you ever figure out why he thought you'd gone after his girlfriend? Or why he wouldn't listen to you or to reason, just came at you until you were forced to defend yourself? The best way to make you do her dirty work for her was to give you a vested interest in getting the moonstone. What better way than a ray of hope to try to break your new curse?"

Mason sat down hard on his bed, head in his hands and shaking. I opened the door again, never taking my eyes off of Mason, my heart shattering in my chest.

"Think long and hard about the truth and who you can actually trust, Mason. Following Katherine will only lead you down a road of pain and death."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked out of the room. This time, nobody stopped me. And I didn't look back.

I got in my car and drove, no destination in mind, trying to process. I'd been falling for Mason, hard, and he'd betrayed me. Damon, who I'd always been able to count on, had done the same. Everything had come crumbling down in less than an hour.

I didn't go back home, to the Salvatore house, until sunrise the next morning. I'd stayed out all night, wandering aimlessly with my car, driving around and slowly working through everything. And when I walked through the doors of the boarding house again, I'd found a new clarity.

"Hey." Damon stood in the hallway, arms crossed and looking concerned. I gave him a weak smile.

"Hey."

"...Everything okay?"

"No. No it's not. You crossed a line, Damon, and even if you never crossed it again... the supernatural drama just doesn't stop. So I'm done with it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving Mystic Falls, and everything that comes with vampires and werewolves and even witches, before it destroys me. It's not worth it. I booked a flight to San Diego on my phone a few hours ago."

Damon tried to convince me to stay, but I wasn't hearing it. I'd made up my mind, and now, I wasn't changing it. He hovered as I packed my bags, my anger still simmering but fading now that I'd spent time processing. By a little after noon, I was ready to go.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?" Damon finally asked as I stood on the threshold of the house, my bags already loaded into the car.

"I'm sure. I meant what I said, Day, I'm done with this stuff. But I'll make you a deal."

"...And what kind of deal would that be?"

"Don't kill Mason, and you're welcome to visit me any time."

Damon scowled. "All that, and you're still protecting him?"

I shrugged. "I'm over it, all the death. And I think Mason might be having a wakeup call of his own now. Just... please, Damon. Consider this a second chance. Don't kill Mason. Or torture him, or hurt him. No matter what you learn, or how the circumstances change. He's off limits."

Damon just looked at me for a long, long moment before finally nodding, slowly.

"Fine. And if he asks where you went?"

"You can tell him. I don't think he's gonna chase me all the way to San Diego, especially not if he's still hung up on Katherine like you said he is. And like I said... feel free to come visit. Or call whenever."

Damon nodded once, lips pursed in a tight line. I gave him a smile and a little salute before turning and climbing into my car. I took one last breath to steel myself, then turned the key and left Mystic Falls in the dust behind me.

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

Two and a Half Months Later

I smiled from the porch of my new house (really closer to a shack) on the beach as I sipped my morning coffee. Watching the waves crash over the shore in the early morning light had become my routine, and I swear my blood pressure had dropped beyond belief as a result.

I hadn't had any supernatural visitors yet, but I knew it'd only be a matter of time. Despite everything, I hoped it would be Damon. There were a lot of things I didn't miss about living in the same sphere as him every day, but it had been nice to be so close to my best friend, even if he was a jackass a lot of the time.

Once the sun was a little higher in the sky and my mug was empty, I went back into the kitchen. The house had a thousand projects, and I'd only just started on the first one or two. I'd been doing those mostly by myself too, with little magical help, and it was nice. I could feel a little bit more of myself in this place with every change I made.

I set my mug in the sink and started to grab eggs out of the fridge when I heard a knock on the door. I wandered over to open it, then stopped dead when I saw who was on the other side.

Mason Lockwood. Iced latte in hand and a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hey," he said, holding out the coffee as a sort of offering. "I, uh... I hope it's okay that I'm here. Damon told me where you'd moved to, and I figured he'd never tell me if it wasn't alright with you. Even then. Honestly, I half expected to open this door and find an axe murderer or a random old man."

Despite myself, I snorted a laugh, and a small smile tugged its way onto my face. I reached out and took the coffee.

"It's good to see you," I said, and meant it. "I'm glad you're okay. Honestly, I think Damon probably sent you here as proof that he didn't kill you. I told him that was a condition of him being invited into my house."

This time, a small smile made its way onto Mason's face. We just looked at each other for a few minutes, hopeful smiles and an electric energy snaking between us, until I finally cleared my throat and took a half-step to the side.

"Do you... want to come in?"

Mason smiled, somehow still looking slightly pained.

"I... can't." I raised an eyebrow, and he rushed to continue. "I'd love to, for the record. It's just... I might've dragged Tyler out of Mystic Falls with me. And he might be waiting in the car."

For the first time, I glanced over Mason's shoulder to see Tyler sitting in the front seat of Mason's Bronco, arms crossed as he pointedly didn't look at us. I laughed.

"That's why it took me so long to get here," Mason continued. "You were right about Katherine. About everything, really. When I ditched her... she compelled a friend of Tyler's to get him to trigger the curse. Like she did to me."

My eyes widened in horror, and I took a step forward to rest my hand on Mason's arm before glancing over his shoulder again.

"Oh my God. Is he okay?"

Mason shrugged. "As okay as he can be. We're figuring it out. But I needed to stay to make sure he was okay, and that Katherine and the other supernaturals didn't get him killed. A lot went down after you left, but... we made it. So did Damon and Stefan. But we needed to get out, so I convinced Carol to let me take Ty for a little while."

I nodded. "I'm glad you did. Do you guys have a place to stay?"

"Yeah. I actually got a place down the beach from here," he said, blushing a little as he glanced away and rubbed at the back of his neck. "We just got into town, and I might've dragged Tyler here first without warning."

I laughed, then stepped fully out of my house, shutting the door behind me. Mason smiled, and my heart raced at our newfound proximity. I decided to let that impulse win and leaned up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Mason looked shocked as I pulled away, then grinned a wolfish grin (pun intended) as he swept me into his arms and kissed me, for real. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, hard, completely indulging for a few long seconds before pulling back.

"Tyler's in the car," I said. I was a little breathless and smiling like an idiot, an expression Mason shared.

"He's fine, I left the window cracked."

My laugh was muffled as Mason leaned in and kissed me again, but this time I pulled away fairly quickly.

"I love that you're making vague dog jokes now, but I really don't want him to have to just sit there while we make out on my porch. Let me help you guys get settled in your new place, and then maybe we can go on a real date tonight?"

Mason beamed at me, pulling me close to his side and resting his forehead against mine.

"Sounds like a plan."

He gave me one last peck on the lips, then took my hand and tugged me down the stairs after him. I laughed, feeling freer and lighter than I had in a long time, as I opened the back door of his car and Mason hopped back in the driver's seat.

"Hey Tyler," I chirped. "It's nice to see you again."

"Yeah. Hi."

I caught Mason's eye in the rear view mirror, fighting and almost failing to hold back a laugh. His blue eyes sparkled like the ocean on a beautiful, clear day, and somehow I just knew we were at the start of something special and wonderful. Call it a witch's intuition, but I felt good about what the future held for me and Mason in San Diego.

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

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