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cha0ticspacebi · 1 year

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The King of the Hellfire Club: Chapter 13

Your dad promised this was the last move until after you graduate. You see Eddie Munson outside Nancy's house shortly after your arrival in Hawkins. Everyone tells you to stay away but you're sure there's more to him than he lets on. Now it's the day before spring break and you just have to work up the nerve to actually talk to him before you lose your chance.

Tags: 18+ MDNI,falling in love, full of cheesy cliche high school romance tropes, dungeon master Eddie, dom Eddie, rockstar Eddie, hurt/comfort, getting together, fluff/smut

dividers by firefly-graphics

Chapter 13/13 ☆ Previous chapter

☆ You can find me over on A03 as Cha0ticBi ☆ Master list link! ☆

5 years later. March 1991

“I don’t know Robin, are you sure?” you pressed the phone in between your shoulder and ear as you grabbed some clothes and tossed them in a bag.

“Yes girl! I’m telling you I saw him shopping with Steve and they were definitely leaving the jewelry store! He’s got something planned.”

You shake your head even though she can’t see you, “I thought for sure when I drove up for the holiday break that he would do it… honestly I’ve thought that the last few times I visited but nothing. Just marathon sex and then he plays guitar while I work on my homework. Which let’s be clear I am NOT complaining about but still.”

“I’ve got a good feeling about it this time! Did your mom tell you the submission letter came? She won’t let any of us open it until you get here.”

“She called me the second the mailman handed it to her! Ahhhh, I’m so nervous!”

“Hurry up and get here then so we can open it!” she yelled in your ear.

“I’d love to Robin! Stop talking to me and let me pack and maybe I’ll be there sooner,” your voice sped up as you continued haphazardly throwing things, “Eddie thinks I’m leaving tomorrow but I skipped my class this afternoon to leave today.”

“Tsk tsk, Munson really corrupted you. Skipping class? Who are you!”

“A girl who’s really horny and wants to see her boyfriend! Now I’m hanging up.” click

You ran down the stairs from your dorm room and all the way into the parking lot, tossing your bag in the backseat. The mixtape Eddie made for you blasting as always from your speakers. You ran both hands through your hair, shook your head out, and eyed Eddie’s guitar pick chain hanging from your neck in the rearview mirror before pulling out and making the familiar drive back up to Hawkins.

College. As fast as it started, it was coming to an end. These five years have flown by in a tornado of sleepless nights, endless shifts at the coffee shop to pay tuition, tests, so many tests and long drives just to kiss your boyfriend when you were homesick. Long distance sucked but you and Eddie were making it work. You were busy at ISU majoring in English, working tirelessly on a fantasy novel. Eddie’s original campaign stories made great inspiration. Your hope was to find a company willing to look at your manuscript right after graduation and become a published author! Eddie had been busy back home too. Working as a mechanic he helped Uncle Wayne whenever he wasn’t playing shows. Corroded Coffin had made quite a name for themselves since winning that contest. They got offers to play all sorts of different places and they wouldn’t turn anything down. In the last few years they’ve even begun getting offers from all over the Midwest to play shows as far away as Detroit. You made it to as many as you could but whenever you couldn’t make it Dustin, who graduated high school already, and the former hellfire kids went to support them. You still couldn’t wrap your mind around how he and Mike had were graduated! After making the decision to stay in Indiana, you’ve never once regretted it.

Your first night away from home was rough and dorm life has been hard. You would lie there awake every night and miss your family, friends, and of course that lovable metalhead, who on more than one occasion would sneak away from work and drive up to see you. You smile at a memory as you pull your car onto the freeway.

You had just left class after receiving a low score on a test. Your mood was in the dumpster as you walked across campus, the sky darkened and it started raining. Perfect. You didn’t even bother trying to run, you just let the rain soak through your clothes and right to your bones. You were just about to start walking up the steps into your building when you heard loud wet footsteps behind you.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie smiled at you, curls flat and wet, “Come here often?”

Words caught in your throat, unable to speak you just started sobbing. Your tears blended with raindrops as you fell into his arms. Your breathing quickened as you cried harder into his already soaked shirt.

“Hey, hey you ok?” he did his best to wipe your face, “I’m hoping those tears aren’t because I’m here.”

“No!” you cried out, burying deeper into his warm chest, “No no of course not Eddie.”

He pulled off his jacket and covered your head, “Come on love, let’s get you dry.”

The two of you went to your dorm room and you offered him a towel. Once you had finally dried off you showed him the wrinkly, smudged test.

He chuckled softly under his breath, “My sweet thing, you know you don’t have to be perfect ALL the time right? You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

It was really hard to remember that sometimes, but Eddie made it easier. You wiped your face again, eyes threatening to spill over once more, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too love, me too.”

And then there was the time you got Corroded Coffin a chance to play at the school of music and threater’s festival. Eddie packed up all their gear in his van and drove down to play. Everyone loved them and playing away from Hawkins really helped them build a reputation but after the show you got your first taste of what dating Eddie might be like in the future.

You went to meet them after their set and Eddie was talking to a girl. You knew you could trust him but that wouldn’t stop the green eyed monster. You watched as he laughed at something she said and she touched his arm. You walked up listening to what she was saying.

“I bet you need some serious muscles to play guitar.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his head and laughed, “Yeah I guess. If you want to talk muscles though, Gareth, our drummer’s biceps are way bigger than mine. Seriously, that guy is ripped!”

You walked right up to Eddie and wrapped your arm around his waist, ignoring everything else around as you kissed him, “Great job as always my love.”

The girl gave you a look that could kill and walked away without another word.

Eddie called out after her, “I’m glad you liked the show!” He didn’t get a response.

“She definitely wanted to sleep with you,” you say flatly.

He looked puzzled, “Are you sure? She was asking a lot of weird things.”

“Definitely,” you pulled him by the vest closer, “You’re very good looking darling. I bet all these girls would sleep with you if they had the chance.”

Eddie grinned playing with your hair, “Do I detect a hint of jealousy my queen?”

Your cheeks flushed, lips curling into a pout, “No.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he laughed, “Listen to me princess, you are the only girl for me. There’s nothing for you to be jealous over. Even when I’m a world famous rockstar with millions of fans, tell me, who’s still gonna be my girl?”

You fight back a smile, still attempting to look upset, “Me. I’m your girl.”

“That’s right sweetheart! You,” he pulled you against him, “Don’t you doubt for even a second that my feelings will ever change. You’re my girl and I’m your guy.”

“Prove it!” You grab him by the hand and drag him all the way back to your dorm room.

You open the door and make sure you are alone before locking the door. Eddie looks around, smiling at the Corroded Coffin poster hanging by your bed. You surprise him by pushing him playfully onto the bed.

“Oh, careful love, I have no problem spanking that ass even if your roommate comes in.”

“She won’t be here anytime soon. She’s always out until at least 1 on the weekends. We have the place to ourselves. Now,” you got serious and crawled on top of him, “I said prove it! Prove you’re my guy.”

“What’d you have in mind?” He looked intrigued.

“Do you remember that time you told me I should have tied you down? Well,” you pull his bandana off his head and wave it in his face, “I think I need to remind you that if I’m yours, you’re mine. This works two ways master,” You wrap the bandana around his wrists and kiss his cheek.

He smirked, letting you continue, “Wow that girl really got to you didn’t she?”

“You’re incredibly sexual Eddie. You’re basically a walking wet dream,” you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed him some more, “As you get more well known more people are going to want to get their hands on you, but I don’t like to share.” You put his hands up above his head as you pushed him flat on his back. Sliding your hands down his chest you pull his zipper down and easily take him in your mouth. He brings his hands back up into your hair. You stop.

“Leave your hands up, I’m going to take what’s mine.”

You rolled the window down in your car as you tried to cool yourself off as you relived the memory of the one and only time Eddie let you take control. Driving back to Hawkins had become your time to destress and think. It was nice. Except times like this when you got yourself all worked up thinking about Eddie, you press harder on the gas.

This trip was especially exciting because of the letter waiting for you at home. You pulled off at the Hawkins exit and drove the last stretch of the drive with the top down.

Mom and dad were both home when you pulled in, you grabbed your bag and ran inside, “I’m home!”

You hear a bowl clatter to the floor, “Oh shit!” Mom’s voice echoes from the kitchen. You hear her pick up the bowl and come running into the living room to give you a big hug.

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow!”

“I wasn’t but I was too excited to open that letter that I skipped my afternoon class today to get here tonight,” you set your bag down and hug dad who joined you.

“I’m pretty sure Robin tried to sneak in here one night and open this without us. I had to lock it up,” she goes to their room as she talks and returns quickly with an envelope.

You fidget with it in your fingers, “I can’t open this yet. I want everyone else here.” As if on cue a knock is heard from the front door. Steve, Robin, Mike, Dustin, Gareth, and Jeff were all standing on your doorstep.

“Were you all just waiting outside for me to get home?” you laugh.

Robin snatched the letter from you, “I’ve wanted to open this thing since it got here last week! Come on, we have time for hugs and all that shit later!” Even Steve looked excited to open this letter. Dustin, Mike, Gareth, and Jeff were praying, hands clasped in front of their faces.

You grabbed the letter back from her and took a deep breath, “Here we go!” You pulled a paper out, letting the envelope fall to the floor. Thank you for your submission. We are thrilled at your interest and we are pleased to offer… You finished reading and before anyone could react you grabbed your keys and ran back to your car.

Your heart was racing the whole way to Eddie’s. Your nerves were literally causing your whole body to shake with excitement. You found yourself laughing there in the car alone as you drove. Smacking the steering wheel to help expel this extra energy coursing its way through you right now. Eyes glazed over as you fought back tears. You whipped the car into the empty space next to Eddie’s van and didn’t even bother closing your door as you ran at top speeds into the trailer. Eddie’s eyes shot up as you didn’t even knock.

He was sitting in the living room reading on the couch drinking a beer, it spilled a bit as you startled him, “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.” He got up to hug you, “Are you alright, you’re shaking? You look like you took something, hah, college that rough?”

Your legs bounced as you held the letter in your hand, “So I’m sure you heard that Metallica is going on tour again in the fall right?”

He nodded, his voice sounded shy, “Yeah I actually thought we could go together when they came here.”

You grabbed his bicep and shook, smacking the leather covering his arm, adding to his confusion, “I’ve got a better idea!” You hand him the letter to read. He looks quizzically at you but begins to read out loud.

Thank you for your submission. We are thrilled at your interest and we are pleased to offer Corroded Coffin the opportunity to be featured as one of our rising metal stars… Eddie’s voice trailed off as he struggled to believe what he was hearing. Despite having come from his own lips. You held his waist and kept reading for him . Based on the details of your submission we’d like Corroded Coffin to be the opening act for our Indianapolis show. More details will follow. Thank you again for your submission and we look forward to working with you.

You screamed jumping up and down, “Eddie this it! This is your big break!”

Eddie’s body quivered in your arms. At first he was speechless but you felt his control melting away as his breathing changed and his shoulders jostled up and down. His voice breaking into just a crackle of a laugh. You held him in your arms as he cried into your shoulder. His hair pressed up against your skin as he lowered his head. His hands gripping his own forearm from around your head. You’d never seen Eddie cry like this, not once in the five years you’ve been together has he ever shown you this side of himself. You rubbed his back as he continued to cry, you felt your shirt getting wet but you didn’t care.

You whispered to him as you continued to hold him, “Before they officially announced their tour they put out a contest looking for local metal bands. Afterwards, they confirmed that the contest was to look for up and coming groups to be featured at some of their concerts. As soon as I read about the contest I sent in a tape of one of your shows.” He lifted his head. You smiled at his puffy red eyes and wet cheeks. He wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms, sucking in a deep breath of air, exhaling sharply.

“When will you cease to surprise me, my fair maiden. This. This means the world to me. More than I can even explain with words. I saw that contest but I never even dreamed that we would be good enough for it so I didn’t bother.”

“You need to believe in yourself like I believe in you Eddie.” You nuzzled your head into his chest.

“Fuck, you’ve out done me again, I had a big plan tomorrow - ” you cut him off with a kiss.

“I have been thinking about that delicious cock of yours all day and I’m so horny I can’t stand it anymore. I held it together long enough to give you the good news, but I’m gonna need you to fuck me like now. Or I might die.” you pretend to faint but he catches you before you fall.

He bites at your neck in between laughs, “As you wish fair maiden.” He scooped you up into his arms and carried you to his room where he proceeded to toss you onto his bed and shut the door.

“You’ve got my blood pumping already love, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back,” he pulled his shirt over his head and you shuddered at the sight of his perfect chest with those fucking tattoos that drive you crazy.

You begin unbuttoning your blouse, “Don’t hold back then. I know our safe word and I trust you to stop. Give me all your love Eddie.” You pulled your shirt off, the red of his guitar pick shining against your skin. You lowered yourself down back against his headboard, taunting him as you raised your hands above your head clawing at the edge. Chewing on your lip, you rubbed your legs together in want. Your mind was clouded with desire. You and Eddie were no strangers to being together but for some reason this time felt different, being with Eddie was easier than breathing. He knew your body and every little thing he did that drove you crazy. He worshiped your body, leaving love bites everywhere he went as he finished the task of getting you naked.

“I love you so much, I’ve loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. I want to be with you every day and night for the rest of my life.” His hands caressing your breasts, teasing your nipples with the tips of his fingers. He hovered over you, knowing that he drives you wild when his hair falls in just the right way and tickles your skin. His lips took your nipple into his mouth and he smiled around you as your body arched, moans escaping your mouth. You encouraged his work as your moans got sharper and less controlled. Your eyes closed, allowing him to slowly unravel you. Methodically taking you apart one touch at a time. Keeping his mouth busy he reaches down between your legs and teases your entrance. He swirls his fingers around getting his hand covered in your mess before bringing those fingers to your lips and biting down as you suck your wetness from his fingers. Your tongue feels between every space, licking them clean.

“You’re such a good girl. Although,” his brows twisted, “I know you had a class today that you must have skipped in order to be here right now. Do you think you need a punishment?” You groan out of frustration as he purposely avoids your pussy with his touches.

“I don’t know how much I can take master, I need you!”

“I believe in you sweetheart,” he sits up and looks down at you as he pulls his handcuffs from his back packet, “Be a good girl and put those wrists together.” He cuffs you and then makes his way down, lower and lower, his breaths ghosting over your cunt. He pushes your legs back.

“Keep those legs back sweetheart. I don’t want you to hold back either, you come as many times as you need to,” his long tongue licks up your entire surface, moving in every possible direction as he eats you out. His hair touching the soft skin of your inner thigh is almost as enjoyable as his mouth sucking your clit. You cry out over and over again, your voice getting louder and louder. His strong hands leave marks as he grips your legs tighter and tighter. You beg for release as you get closer. Screaming as it finally comes but he doesn’t stop. He is merciless as he works you over, drawing every ounce of pleasure he can from your weak body. Your fingers dig into the pillows above your head, straining for any sort of sensation. He doesn’t stop no matter how loud and pained your cries get. Your sex pulsates and overflows, squirting all over his face. His hand presses under your ass and feels the soaked sheet.

His head lifts up, extremely pleased with himself, “You’re gonna stain my mattress love. Look at you, you’re such a mess,” he admires your form before going to grab a condom.

“Eddie?” you somehow manage to whisper, you cuffed hands grabbing at him in protest, “I want to feel you…all of you.”

“Are you sure princess? You’re so fucking wet I don’t think I’ll be able to stop and pull out.”

“Then don’t”

His gaze is downright sadistic. His hand wipes his mouth and jawline, as he hastily works to get out of his jeans, “Beg pretty thing.”

“Eddie please come inside me, cover my insides with your mark,” you never look away from his big brown eyes, “Please, I need you so badly. Wanted you every day since I left last time.”

He brought his mouth to yours and you tasted yourself on his tongue, “More. Convince me. How badly do you want this sweetheart?”

You squirmed beneath him, lips crashing against his, “So badly Eddie. I want you to be my first like this. I would think about this moment everyday in high school even before we got together. I used to wonder what kind of lover you’d be, when I’d touch myself you were all I’d ever think about. Please Eddie, let me feel you.”

He bit your lip, “Eddie’s not here love, who am I?”

“Master! Master please,” he sucked your neck, toying with the line between pain and pleasure as he left his mark, “I want your cock master! Fuck my pussy, use me to come!”

Without missing a beat he bit your neck and slammed his bare cock into your dripping cunt. Your cries and pleads turn to mindless words of affirmation. Eddie’s hips bucking deeper and deeper into you he groans and moans into your skin. His voice breaking as he fucks into you harder than ever before. His hand nearly breaks the headboard as you hear the wood splinter and crack under his hand. He whines that he’s close.

“I’m gonna come, ahh-” he barely finishes warning you before you feel his come rush into you. It feels warm and full. Oh shit I could get used to this. You think to yourself as he collapses on top of you, cock still inside you. You lay under him savoring the sensation of his sweaty skin on yours. You’ve never felt this close to anyone. Eddie was truly your everything in all aspects of your life. You felt your emotions rising as you looked at the ceiling of his room, briefly recalling the first night you spent together. Tears drip from your eyes as you blink. He brings such joy to your life and you can’t imagine a life without him. Whether he’s a famous rock star or you both end up working shitty jobs just to pay the bills, he’s the one you want. Whatever this life has in store you want him there with you, for all time.

He manages to lift himself up, his bangs curling wildly from the sweat on his forehead, “That was amazing love. You ok if I pull out?” You nod with an overstimulated smile. Even if you had the energy to move, there is nothing in heaven or earth that could get you to move. He reaches up and uncuffs your hands. Laying kisses on the red skin along your wrists. He kisses your forehead as he pushes himself up and returns with lotion for your sore wrists and arms. This was your favorite part of being with Eddie. Even after the most intense sessions, where he helps you explore even your most depraved fantasies, no matter how tired he might be he always takes such good care of you after. Warm baths, kisses, cuddles, massages whatever you need, he provides it.

“Talk to me princess, what do you need right now? You want me to run you a bath?”

You smile and nod, “Please. I’m kinda gross right now.”

He lifts you into his arms, “You’ve never looked more beautiful.” He sets you in the warm water and sits on the floor next to the tub, “I’ll never be able to say it enough but I love you…so much.” He grabs a cloth and washes you gently.

Once you are clean he helps you up and brings you one of his clean band shirts and a fresh pair of panties. You sit up on his bed as he brings you a beer. You lean your head on his shoulder as you drink slowly. You look up at him, he looks lost in thought.

“Hey handsome,” you nudge him with your shoulder, “What’s going on in that cute head?”

“I just still can’t believe it. It doesn’t feel real,” he said while taking a drink, “This really is my chance. Ever since I can remember I've wanted to play music, now I get the chance of a lifetime and I owe it all to you. Without you, hell I might be dead.”

“You earned his Eddie. You work so hard, every performance gets your all. Whether it’s a huge crowd or just 5 drunks…you bring all your passion into everything you do.” You feel your eyes get heavy as you yawn, “And in a few months you get to share that passion with the world.”

At some point Eddie pulled the covers over you and watched as you fell asleep. Longing covering his face as he watched you. He went out to the living room and grabbed the letter that had been discarded to the floor. He took it in his hand and grabbed his jacket before going outside. Shaking his head with a smile as he noticed your door still open. He carefully closed it for you, knowing that even after all this time your car was still your baby. Sitting on his stoop he pulled out a joint and reread the letter over and over again until the joint had nearly burnt out. With the last hit he pressed it into the ground and reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a small velvet box.

8 months later. November 22, 1991

“Holy fuck I’m so nervous!” Eddie jumped up and down backstage as his guitar bounced against his back.

You have been with him every step of the way in this exciting process! From meeting the crew, practicing, sound checks, and of course the headliner? A jam session with the legends themselves. Everything came down to this moment. You and Dustin were with him and the band as they got ready. You could hear the crowd even from back here and even though you weren’t the one about to perform for thousands of people you felt just as nervous.

“You’ll be amazing Eddie! Go show everyone who Eddie Munson really is, one hell of a performer!” You squeezed him tightly as the crew gave the signal for them to begin.

“5 minutes!” one of them shouted. Eddie pulled a pick from his pocket and adjusted his guitar.

Reluctantly, you lifted your hair and removed the chain from your neck where it has sat almost every minute of every day since the spring of ‘86, “Use this Eddie.”

He grinned, taking it in his hands. You and Dustin watched from the side lines as the three friends set up and took their places on the stage. Eddie’s signature look still managed to give you butterflies. His bandana wrapped around his head, that puffy green vest, and fuck those boots. Focus! Your brain reminded you.

“60 seconds people!” the crew manager yelled.

“Hey Henderson?” Eddie called from center stage, “Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

You hear the crowd get hyped up as the lighting changes. The black curtain rises and you scream for him! He looks just off stage at you and lights up. He steps up to the microphone and goes right into their first song. His voice, the voice that made you melt from the moment you heard it was now being heard by the world. You cried as you and Dustin sang along with him. The song continued, your chest warmed as you peaked out and saw people that didn’t even know him cheering for him. The first song came to an ending, Eddie grabbed the microphone from its stand and spoke to the crowd.

“Hell yeah Indianapolis! Thank you so much for that warm welcome, we are Corroded Coffin. Local outcasts from the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. You all ready for a night of metal?”

The crowd screamed, Eddie’s nerves were gone. He was in his element. He ran back to the mic stand and started their next song. You and Dustin held each other jumping up and down screaming for them. Your mind is overwhelmed with a mix of emotions as your life so far with Eddie replayed like a movie in your head. Every moment from the good times to the bad. Every struggle and every triumph you faced together. Every argument or disagreement, utterly insignificant at this moment. Even in the changing stage lights, you can still see those beautiful brown eyes so full of life. They continue to play and engage the crowd. Before you know it their set is coming to an end.

“You’ve been one hell of an audience! This is our last song and it’s a song I wrote for my beautiful girlfriend so I hope you enjoy it.” He started playing a song you’ve never heard before. Your mind racing because you had helped him decide which songs to play and this wasn’t supposed to be the ending. Dustin grinned as he watched knowingly. Your eyes cried listening to the words Eddie was singing about you. You cried harder into your hand, one of the crew gave you some tissues with a smile. He looked away from the crowd and towards backstage at you. You tried to regain your composure. Cheering for him as you wiped your eyes. Gareth’s drumbeats changed and the song came to a faded end. The crowd erupted into cheers. Eddie wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“I’m sure you all are ready for the main event but, if I could have your attention for just another moment there’s something I need to do. We are only here because my incredible girlfriend believed in me. She gives me strength to keep going every day and there’s something I need to ask her. Would you guys like to meet her?” They cheered.

Your heart stopped. His eyes met yours. Your body felt paralyzed as Dustin pushed you towards him. Eddie’s hand beckoning you to join him on stage. Dustin shoved you out into the spotlight. Eddie grabbed the microphone and walked over to you with his guitar on his back.

“My beautiful hellfire queen, the love of my life,” he bent down to one knee, the crowd gasping as he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket, “Sweetheart? Will you marry me?”

If you weren’t so fucking happy you’d be mad at him for making you cry in front of so many people. You looked deep into those chocolate brown eyes and your head moved first before you could speak, “Yes Eddie! Of course I’ll marry you!” The crowd celebrated for you as he hugged you. He took the mic up again.

“Thank you Indianapolis! Are you guys ready for Metallica?”

Every voice in the building echoed YES!

You walked off stage with Eddie’s arm around your shoulder, his ring around your finger, and his mark forever on your heart.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #18+ content #high school sweetheart eddie munson #dungeon master eddie munson

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nacho-business1 · 1 month

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Arin was going to have a great day, it was the first day of spring! The season of renewal and all that jazz! He couldn’t wait for the festival! It’s the first time he gets to spend the day with his new family. Unfortunately it seems for some the day is a reminder of past regrets.

Arin couldn’t wait to get started to day. He’s been working harder than ever, and yesterday he nearly beat his record, nearly. Sora’s been getting pretty good with her powers too! But what they were both really excited for was going to go to the spring festival in the crossroads after training. But when they got to the training area it was completely abandoned. No sign of their teacher at all, which was really weird since Lloyd was usually there already and would tell them they’re late. ( Which they were because it was almost 7:30.)

“Maybe he’s late?” Sora suggested. But they both knew that wasn’t true, one of the other ninja would have said something. At least Arin thought so, hoped so.

“come on,” his best friend insisted, “let’s get some breakfast, maybe he’s in the kitchen.” Lloyd wasn’t in the kitchen, but Yu-Lin was. Yu- Lin was definitely the coolest, ( despite what Kai said) for years she had traveled across the merged realms but during all the crossroad’s festivals she would set up a shop and sell all sorts of things she got from her travels. At the time nobody had known she was the purple ninja, she had gone by Yin, and every visit she would take care of him and Sora. ( her pancakes were to die for) So they were pretty close. This morning however, instead of the sweet cheerful good mornings he had become accustomed to, he was met with the face of longing and grief. She looked like she had been crying. But before they could say something she perked up, trying her best to look like everything was ok.

“I didn’t notice you two were awake.” She said softly as she started rummaging through the fridge, “ I was about to start making breakfast,” Arin knew that was a lie, “ Is there anything in particular you want?”

Sora took Lin by the arm and gently lead her to a stool at the counter. “We’re fine actually, already ate.” Sora quickly lied, and Lin didn’t give it a second thought. She really must’ve been tired.

“Do you know where Lloyd is? We were supposed to start training already, but he wasn’t there.” Arin asks.

Lin hesitates for a moment before telling them he in the monastery library. Which Arin had already learned meant one of three things: 1) Lloyd was looking for some more lessons for them. 2) Lloyd was researching something. 3) he didn’t want to be bothered.

Lloyd had been in the library a lot this past week. Originally he thought the green ninja was looking for new lessons for them, or ways to train them better, but now he’s not so sure about that.

He doesn’t want to leave Lin here alone, but he was also worried about Lloyd. Sora seemed to understand what he was thinking and nodded for him to go.

When he starts hearing down the hallway the first thing he hears is yelling. The first voice he recognizes is Kai, he sounded worried. The second voice, much harsher and angrier then he’s ever heard, was Lloyd’s.

“Look I get it! We’ve all lost p-” Kai was cut off with a loud growl. “ NO YOU DON’T! YOU HAVE NEVER EXPERIENCED WHAT IT’S LIKE TO REALLY LOSE SOMEONE!” Lloyd’s voice booms, a sharp edge to it, “I’V LOST EVERYTHING OVER AND OVER AGAIN! NO MATTER WHAT I DO IT’S NEVER ENOUGH! AND NOW HE’S GONE And…” Lloyd’s voice voices lowers, a soft sob comes from him, “ I never got to say goodbye.”

There’s a moment of silence before he hears Kai mutter something before he opens the doors and leaves, making sure to close them gently before he spots Arin halfway across the hall.

Arin must’ve looked startled, which he kinda was, because Kai puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he lead him away from the library. After walking in silence for a moment Kai finally breaks it.

“ How much did you hear?” “Only the a little bit” Arin confesses in a small voice, still a bit shaken by how viscous Lloyd’s voice had been. “ Today’s a hard day for Lloyd,” he says after a moment.

Arin wasn’t one to bud in on one’s personal business but he help but wonder what upset the green ninja so much. “What’s today?”

Kai stopped walking, and took a sharp breath. He took a hesitated moment before answering, “ 5 years ago Lloyd and Yu-Lin had a son…” the fire master’s voice cracked, “ He disappeared during the merge,” Kai took another breath, and in a tiny quiet voice said, “his birthday is today.”

Arin suddenly feels bad for asking. Kai reassures him it’s ok, but Arin still feels bad for Lloyd and Yu- Lin. He remembers at first when he lost his parents it was really hard for him. Meeting Lin, back when she was yin, and Sora had really helped him, it reminded him that he wasn’t alone. That he could have people to care about him.

And suddenly he had a great idea, well not great, but good. He immediately went to get Sora. He found his best friend in the kitchen cleaning up a bit, Lin wasn’t in there so he assumed she went off on her own or something.

“wow there, you good?” Sora asks as he slides into the kitchen almost crashing into a chair. “ I need you to come help me with something! I’ll explain later! I promise!” And with that he and Sora were off.

When Lloyd finally came out of the library, the monastery was eerily quiet. Absolute silence, which was very disturbing after the few months a noise he’s gotten used to hearing again. After looking around for a few minutes he finds Yu-Lin, who he’s not sure to be glad or not to see, he hates to admit it but he’d been avoiding her all week.

“ Have you seen any one else around?” He asks which she answers in with a quick shake of her head before sniffing at the air for a moment. “ I think they’re this way,” she says in a small voice, and they both walk through the hall. No one makes a sound. Neither knows what to say to the other. Finally after a long trek down half the mountain, as it starts getting dark they find every one on a large ledge that overlooks the crossroads in the distance. What ever they’re up to, if looks like they are setting up for a celebration of some kind.

“ happy spring!!!!” Wyldfyre yelled when she saw them, quickly making her way to them and handed them both a sparkler.

Lloyd looked at the others trying to figure out what was going on, Kai came over and led them to a blanket on the ground. “Ask Arin,” his brother says as if reading his mind, “he’s the one who set this up.”

Arin came over with a pie decorate to look like a flower. “Happy spring!” As he took the pie from his student’s hands he couldn’t help but ask, “what’s going on?”

Arin lighted up when he heard Lloyd and sat down. “ Back at the crossroads, there’s this huge festival that takes place during the first week of spring. Today’s the start of it so I thought we could have our own celebration.”

“But why not go to the actual festival?” Lin asked. And Lloyd couldn’t help but wonder the same.

“Because I wanted to do something special for you guys. I heard about… what happened,” Arin says, picking his words carefully, “the first spring festival me and Sora did something similar. It really helped.”

And to Lloyd’s surprise Sora walked over with two beautiful lanterns. Both decorated with intricate patterns. “The first day of the festival is always the most important,” she explained, “ it’s always new beginnings but also remembrance.”

Arin nodded as he took one of the lanterns and handed it to Lloyd and Yu-Lin. “Some people who lost loved ones during the merge like to light lanterns for them. It’s what me and Sora have been doing. It’s like day of the departed, except they’re not gone, not really. They’re just not with us. I know it’s been a hard day for you guys and thought this could help you like it helped me.” “Oh Arin” Lin says as she pulls him into a hug, “ how did get so lucky to get to know someone so sweet.” Arin just shrugs as he leans against her looking out into the night sky. Sora sits down too and the four of them sit there for a moment before Wyldfyre starts yelling about something.

Slowly a stream of lanterns fly into the air, and more and more from across ninjago fill the sky. Each of them take a one of their own to send into the sea of glowing lights. Kai and Nya sending one for their parents and respective lovers. Zane, sending it for Pixal. Wildfire said she was sending hers for a robot or something that took care of her in the wilderness. Arin sent his for his parents. Sora despite not having any one to send hers to still does so.

Lloyd looked down at the one in his hands. It was beautiful, Luca would have loved it. Lin puts her hand on his and together they sent it out, Hoping that maybe he was out there somewhere, that maybe he gets it.

For a moment the world slows down and for the first time in weeks Lloyd feels like his family is complete, despite being so far apart. He knows he’ll find them. For now he’s happy with what he has. Arin and Sora could never replace what he lost but they’re his, and he’ll never let anything happen to them.

#ninjago #ninjago oc #yu-lin #lloyd #Luca Garmadon #ninjago wyldfyre #kai #nya #zane #ninjago one shot #sora #arin

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lothiriel84 · 3 months

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On the Peak of Derbyshire

A Pride and Prejudice ficlet. Companion piece to Flower of Scotland. Darcy/Elizabeth, plus Elizabeth & Lydia and Darcy & Lydia.

Elizabeth spent the whole of their tour of Pemberley in a daze, only half listening to the housekeeper as she praised every particular of the house, and the kind and considerate Master she clearly held in the highest of regards. Of all that, she could have been mistress, had she not allowed her prejudice to colour her judgement of Mr Darcy from the very beginning of their acquaintance; and it was not so much the grandness of the place that gave her cause to repine, as it was the unaccountable certainty that, had things been different, she could have felt truly at home there.

For all that she had only agreed to this visit on account of Mr Darcy not being in residence, she was somewhat shocked to discover how acutely she regretted his absence; as painful as was the prospect of being in each other’s presence once more after everything that had passed between them, she was finding it was nothing to the missed opportunity to renew their acquaintance. In a moment of weakness, she thought she would have been contented with being granted the small consolation of seeing Miss Darcy; but even that was not to be, and Elizabeth could not find it in herself to enjoy the beautiful grounds as they would have merited.

No sooner were they back to the inn that she found her personal regrets fade into the background in the face of more pressing and infinitely more concerning news pertaining her sister Lydia – as well as Mr Wickham, of all people. In the flurry of preparations for their imminent departure that followed, she blamed herself so very bitterly for her failure to expose Mr Wickham’s true character when she had been given the opportunity to do so; as it was, she was only too glad that Mr Darcy was not in the neighbourhood to bear witness to her family’s disgrace, though it was merely a matter of time before news of Lydia’s misconduct reached his ears as well as those of his most intimate acquaintances.

It was just as well she had spurned his proposals so vehemently in the spring; soon enough, he would be congratulating himself on his good fortune, and this time, he would be entirely justified in doing so. As for Elizabeth and her remaining sisters, they might count themselves lucky if they were still allowed to show their faces in public after a scandal of these proportions; for she did not believe for one second that a scoundrel such as Mr Wickham could ever be persuaded to act honourably in the face of Lydia’s complete lack of fortune and connections.

It had taken Mr Gardiner several weeks to finally locate his niece, and by the time he managed to do so, things had progressed in such a way as to preclude any possible attempt to rescue whatever little remained of Lydia’s reputation. Mrs Gardiner took it upon herself to personally break the news to Jane and Elizabeth, and they were much worse than anyone else at Longbourn had been expecting – Lydia was unmarried still, with Mr Wickham nowhere to be found, and there was very little doubt that she was now carrying his child. Between Mrs Bennet’s nervous complaints and Mr Bennet’s bitter contemplation of his failings as the head of his family, the only ray of unexpected hope came from an entirely unforeseen party, as Mr Bingley descended upon Netherfield for the first time since November, and immediately called upon Miss Bennet with the professed intent to do everything that was in his power to alleviate her current distress.

For all but a fleeting moment, Elizabeth wondered whether Mr Bingley’s sudden reappearance meant that Mr Darcy also was now fully informed of the particulars of Lydia’s foolish mistake and their consequent sinking lower than ever before in society; however, the matter was quite soon put out of her mind, as she was called to comfort her beloved sister who was suffering greatly for her determination to refuse Mr Bingley’s entirely unexpected proposals in a bid to preserve his own respectability. It took Elizabeth all of two days to persuade dear Jane to reconsider her immovable decision on this point; Lydia was at that very moment on her way to Scotland, and while it would take a great deal longer for the scandal to die out completely, she ought not to sacrifice her own prospects on so small an inducement as the loss of the good opinion of wholly indifferent acquaintances. And surely, as a gentleman of age and means, Mr Bingley ought to be afforded the courtesy of being allowed to be a better judge of his own happiness than society at large.

The news of their engagement took the whole of Meryton by surprise, and for a short while, Elizabeth chose to amuse herself by picturing the magnitude of the horrors that would undoubtedly be suffered by Mr Bingley’s sisters on finding themselves irrevocably tied to such a family as theirs, at a moment like this no less. This, however, soon brought again to mind Mr Darcy’s own sense of affronted dignity on behalf of his friend, and any amusement she might have felt at Miss Bingley’s expenses vanished as swiftly as to leave her utterly ashamed of herself.

Consequently, she was not at all surprised to find that Mr Darcy was not to attend the wedding; truth to tell, she was quite relieved to be spared the brunt of his disapproval, and while she still wished for a chance to apologise for how unfairly she had once judged him, she had long come to accept that she should never meet him again, and that it was much better that way. For some reason she could not quite determine, the thought of him alive in this world thinking so very ill of her pained her exceedingly, but there was very little that could be done on that account, and she was determined to conquer her own feelings in that regard.

When Jane and Bingley began hinting that they were to visit Lydia upon their return from their wedding trip, she thought nothing of it; it well befitted the goodness of their natures, and for all that Lydia was suffering as a direct consequence of her own foolish conduct, she had been abundantly punished for it already, and could well benefit from some much needed kindness in her forced exile from home. What she could not quite account for was Jane’s subsequent entreaty that she should join them in paying such a visit, and on Lydia’s express request no less; Elizabeth and her youngest sister had never been very close to begin with, and she could not imagine why Lydia would take comfort in her presence above Kitty’s, or even Mary’s.

Still, as she was desperate for a distraction from the despondency of her own thoughts pertaining a certain gentleman from Derbyshire, she decided that a change of scene might at least be conductive to regaining her previous equanimity. Besides, she owed it to poor Lydia to comply with her wishes on account of the part she herself had unwittingly played in her disgrace; if only she could have brought herself to caution her younger sisters about Mr Wickham’s true character, none of this would have happened, and her family would not be facing the disapproval of all of their neighbours.

At a moment like that, it was no small consolation that Mr Bingley had proven himself such a better friend to them than she had ever given him credit for.

The very last thing Elizabeth could have expected upon setting out for Scotland was to find herself faced with the one man in the world she was determined to avoid. Mr Darcy looked every bit as startled as she herself felt, and as unsteady as she suddenly was on her feet, she found she could not bear to stand in his presence a moment longer. She did not know how she reached the small room that had been arranged for her, but when she did, it was all she could do to throw herself upon the bed, pressing a hand to her traitorous heart that was threatening to beat straight out of her chest.

Jane, dear Jane, was all solicitude for her; she could not immediately perceive the reason for the profuse apologies that followed, and when she did, she was thrown into even greater confusion at the unanticipated revelation that they owed the whole of Lydia’s rescue to none other than Mr Darcy himself – who had not only taken great pains to see to their sister’s every need, but had also being visiting her quite often, and in the company of his own sister on several occasions.

Elizabeth finally gave way to tears as the full magnitude of Mr Darcy’s generosity was revealed to her; that such a man had once deigned to offer her his hand and heart – though the manner of his proposals had left much to be desired at the time – was as unthinkable as it was so very painful now that his offer was no longer open to her acceptance. Jane, in her kindness, took it upon herself to remind her of her own arguments when she had endeavoured to persuade her dear sister to accept Mr Bingley despite all possible reservations; that no other opinion but those of the two parties involved ought to hold any weight in any decision pertaining their future happiness, and that her dear Lizzy of old would never have let herself be cowed by the disapproval of hostile relations.

That night, she could not find any sleep; the memory of the pain so evident in Mr Darcy’s eyes kept her tossing and turning until the first light of morning came in through the curtains, and by that time, she found she could not lie still a moment longer. Pausing only to wrap a coat around her shoulders she slipped out of the cottage door, heading in no specific direction but wherever the path would take her.

There had been a time, not that long ago, when Elizabeth could have sworn that a gentleman of Mr Darcy’s disposition would never have consented to expressing his feelings in so bold a manner as he was busily engaged in doing at that very moment. As their embrace progressed, she found herself grateful for the support provided by the fence post at her back, for she was beginning to feel rather weak at the knees from the thoroughness of his attentions.

“My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he murmured into the hollow of her throat, his lips tracing a downward path bordering on indecency, and in a thunderclap of revelation she knew at last what had driven Lydia to comport herself in a manner so far removed from everything they had been taught about virtue and propriety. She was much obliged to her betrothed for retaining enough control of himself to preserve the better part of respectability, and between the two of them, they contrived to fix the worst of her mussed appearance before the cottage came into view.

Their entrance was welcomed with far less astonishment than might have been expected; Lydia was the first to congratulate the couple on their engagement, and with such warmth that made Elizabeth quite ashamed of herself for how remiss she had been in her sisterly affections. It was quite the surprise to see her youngest sister, whom she had previously dismissed as foolish and self-absorbed, address Mr Darcy with such a degree of respect and admiration as one would hold for an older brother; as for her intended, he appeared quite fond of his soon-to-be sister, and so very considerate of her every comfort in a manner that could only increase Elizabeth’s regard for him.

By the time everyone had finished expressing their heartfelt felicitation for their upcoming nuptials – for the general consensus was that Mr Bennet could easily be prevailed upon to give his consent – Elizabeth was genuinely sorry that Lydia would not be in attendance. Mr Darcy, on his part, promised most faithfully that they would visit again as soon as they were settled at Pemberley, and he would endeavour to bring Georgiana along with them if at all possible.

Though Mr and Mrs Bingley had offered the use of Netherfield, it could not be supposed that the bride and groom would find themselves at ease in carrying out what was expected of them on their wedding night while under the same roof as her sister and his friend; consequently, it had been agreed that once the wedding breakfast was over, they would remove for Mr Darcy’s house in town, from whence they would set out from Pemberley in due course.

Oddly enough, of all the conflicting advice Elizabeth had been imparted on so delicate a subject as her wifely duties, it was Lydia’s that proved to be the most fruitful. With her sister’s imparted wisdom to guide her, she was then able to direct her husband’s inexperience in such a manner as to delight them both in equal proportion.

“I will not be so bold as to profess my sister had the right of it,” she confessed much later as they lay in each other’s arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns across her back. “But I must allow this to be inducement enough for many a respectable young woman to forget herself, should she become the object of a man of lesser principles and weaker morals.”

“I am beginning to question the wisdom of keeping young ladies in ignorance of the particulars of such matters until they are a few days away from being married,” Mr Darcy mused in a contemplative voice, and she instantly knew he was thinking of his own sister also. “Either way, I do believe the greater share of the blame ought to be placed upon the gentleman in question – though he scarcely merits to be addressed as such, and in all truth, I would still have advised Miss Lydia against marrying the scoundrel, had I found her mind to be irrevocably set on it.”

Elizabeth could not find it in herself to argue with her husband’s pronouncement; settling more comfortably in his embrace, she congratulated herself on her good fortune in marriage, and wondered at the turn of fate that had spared her from a much closer connection with Mr Wickham she had once contemplated for herself in her own foolishness.

Waiting upon Lydia in the weeks of her confinement was a somewhat befitting penance for Elizabeth’s past neglect of her sisterly duties; and since Jane had discovered herself unable to travel to Scotland for the foreseeable future, all duties of care naturally fell upon the next married sister. Armed with their mother’s cautionary tales about the trials and tribulations of childbirth, the new Mrs Darcy steeled herself for the ordeal that was to follow; in the end, Lydia was safely delivered of a healthy girl, who thankfully bore as little resemblance to her absent father as could be hoped for, and was named in honour of her two eldest aunts.

If Elizabeth had any private concerns about putting herself through those same hardships in the not overly distant future, she chose not to share them with either her husband or her sister. As for Mr Darcy, he was utterly delighted with his new niece, and declared himself most eager to welcome both mother and child at Pemberley as soon as could be contrived.

Georgiana, who had insisted on following her brother and sister to Scotland, congratulated Lydia most heartily on her beautiful little daughter, and expressed a fervent wish to share some of her care, once they were all removed to Derbyshire. Being so very close in age, and united in their common grievances against the same scoundrel, Elizabeth could only suppose it quite natural that the two young women would form a fast friendship, regardless of their differences in temperament and social standing.

Lydia’s strong constitution was instrumental in speeding along her recovery period, and the Darcys soon found themselves at liberty to set out for their long-postponed wedding trip, leaving their sister and niece in the capable hands of Mrs Campbell and the wet nurse Mr Darcy had hired most especially. The Lake District was as remarkable in its natural beauty as Elizabeth had been led to believe, and she found it quite worth the long wait; Mr Darcy, for his part, had eyes for his wife only, and they scarcely spent a moment apart from one another for the entire duration of their trip.

When they finally descended upon Scotland once more with the purpose of collecting Lydia and little Jane, Elizabeth often found herself the object of her sister’s pointed glances, much to her own consternation and her husband’s confusion.

“I pray that you desist from unduly troubling Fitzwilliam with your conjectures, as little founded as they are at this moment,” she warned her sister as soon as they were out of his earshot. “It would never do to disappoint his hopes on the matter, and I will have none of it for as long as it can be helped.”

“Have it your own way,” shrugged Lydia, though very good-naturedly. “But you must allow me to be the first in congratulating you both, when the time comes.”

Elizabeth sighed, pressed a hand to her stomach, and spared a silent prayer that she would survive the journey home without raising any further concerns about the state of her health, nor the probability of her condition.

Mr Darcy was, as could be expected, entirely overjoyed when his wife confided to him that she thought she might be with child. They were all of them settled back at Pemberley by then, and although he had initially considered placing his new sister and niece at a convenient distance so that they might all be spared from the neighbourhood’s speculations, he had confessed himself quite unwillingly to keep Lydia away for the sake of appearances only.

Elizabeth had readily agreed with such a scheme, much to Georgiana’s delight, and the sisters were growing closer by the day in such a way as neither of them had once thought possible. Everyone at Pemberley doted upon little Jane, and the aunt she was named after wrote long and frequent letters expressing her wish to be introduced to her niece as soon as could be arranged; even Mary and Kitty had somehow contrived to elude their parents’ newfound watchfulness to send their own belated congratulations to the errant sister that had been cast out of the family without recourse.

That her father could be so callous as to entirely repudiate one of his daughters – whose lapse in conduct might be put down in large part to his past neglect – was Elizabeth’s secret sorrow, and while Lydia appeared to bear it with uncommon equanimity, even her good spirits could not entirely conceal her lingering hurt on finding herself in the position of a stranger to her own parents.

“It is no matter,” Lydia declared with the utmost conviction one evening, as she watched over Mr Darcy and his sister taking their turn in cosseting her daughter. “What my Janie has lost in the consideration of her own grandparents, she has gained tenfold in the affections and care of a most deserving uncle and aunt. And I feel sure that Jane and Bingley also will never consent to letting her down in any way, despite her being a natural daughter and living proof of her mother’s shame.”

What Elizabeth was not at liberty to disclose just yet was that her husband had been consulting with his solicitor for the express purpose of making his niece by marriage his ward, and amending his will in such a way as to ensure both she and her mother would always be provided for, regardless of whether Lydia chose to marry at a later date.

“If anything, she is proof of your courage and determination not to be parted from your child for the sake of regaining some of your respectability,” she told her sister instead, and was rewarded with so warm an embrace that it was all she could do not to be moved to tears by such unexpected display of affection.

When Jane entered her own confinement, Lydia was resolved to offer her services in Elizabeth’s stead, and only the consideration that Mrs Bennet would not be prevented from attending the birth of her first acknowledged grandchild that stopped her from setting out for Hertfordshire at once.

“It is for the best,” Elizabeth endeavoured to console her. “Surely you would not subject your Janie to the risks of so long a journey, and I must confess I have come to much depend upon your assistance in my current condition. Our sister will surely understand, though I too am grieved I cannot be there for her at such a time.”

And so they waited, with an eagerness made even more pressing by the indifferent state of Elizabeth’s own health. She could not have anticipated being so fatigued by even the smallest of exertions, and the family physician had advised bed rest much earlier than was usually recommended for a woman of her age and constitution.

When an express finally came from Netherfield announcing the birth of Mr Bingley’s son and heir, they all rejoiced as one; and if Mr Darcy’s delight for his friend was clouded by his more natural concerns for the wellbeing of his own wife and unborn child, he was careful to leave it out from the letter of congratulations he and Elizabeth sent forth at once, with a note expressing Lydia’s own felicitations for the event enclosed within.

Another letter came a few days later, dwelling more particularly on the good health of both mother and child, and relaying the information that the boy was to be named Edward to honour Mr Bingley’s late father.

“Our uncle Gardiner will be delighted,” Lydia remarked to her sister, and handed over the letter for Mr Darcy’s more particular perusal.

Elizabeth smiled and rested more fully against the pillows propped at her back. She longed for the day she would join her sisters in being delivered of her own child, and although she would never sink so low as to begrudge them the relative ease of their confinements, she could not refrain from wishing she could claim the same good luck for herself.

The whole of the household had been in uproar since it had become clear that Mrs Darcy’s time had come at last, and amid the apprehension and excitement of the family and servants alike, it was not immediately apparent to everyone that the Mistress of the house had exceeded all expectations by producing not one, but two healthy boys – so alike to one another in every particular to render the task of differentiating Mr Darcy’s firstborn and heir from his brother peculiarly arduous.

In her utter prostration after so prolonged a delivery, Elizabeth was scarcely aware of the dilemma presented by identical twin sons for a gentleman of her husband’s standing and position; in the end, it was Georgiana who provided a solution to the problem by pointing out that the eldest born had a tiny dark mole to the side of his knee, while his younger sibling did not.

“I fear my youngest nephew will hardly thank me for noticing this, once he is grown up,” she sighed in the face of her brother’s gratitude for so small yet so significant a service.

From her bed, Elizabeth made her wish known to be presented with her own children, before finally succumbing to her exhaustion and sleeping.

Mr Bennet coming unannounced not a fortnight later threw the household into the greatest of confusion once more. Despite his own reservations on the propriety of such a behaviour, Mr Darcy was all politeness for his wife’s sake, and Elizabeth was afforded the dubious pleasure of presenting her father with his new grandchildren while the eldest of those was being conveniently concealed a mere two rooms away.

How long she might have allowed this state of affairs to continue while her father was a guest in her own home, was anyone’s guess; as it happened, the choice was soon taken out of her hands entirely, as the footman who had been sent out to ward off poor Lydia upon her return from her morning walk somehow failed to intercept her.

Lydia turned perfectly pale at the sight of her father, her ordinarily cheerful countenance dissolving almost instantly. However, she soon appeared to regain enough command of herself as to drop a curtsey and promptly excuse herself out of the room; Elizabeth was on the verge of intervening when Mr Bennet surprised them all by calling after his youngest daughter, in the mildest of tones: “Not so fast, child. I believe there is another addition to the family I am yet to meet, or so I am told.”

Again, Elizabeth was about to regale her father with a few choice words, and she absolutely would have, if not for her husband quietly interceding with her. “Let them. It is much overdue, and I would not deny them the chance for a reconciliation, however little deserved it might be on one side.”

In her pressing concern for her sister’s wellbeing, she could only allow them a quarter of an hour before she went to check on them under the half-formed pretence of searching for the wet nurse. Lydia did not stir from her place in her father’s arms, nor did she relinquish her hold on him as she went on crying tears of relief on his willing shoulder. Mr Bennet met his second eldest daughter's gaze, nodded once, and continued in his endeavours to soothe his youngest by patting her somewhat awkwardly across her back.

As her dearest husband reminded her later, this gesture of goodwill on Mr Bennet’s part could not be expected to heal the breach completely, but it was still a beginning. And while she would always have a home with them, Lydia would be much happier in the long run if she was granted admittance to Longbourn.

Elizabeth pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek, and turned her undivided attention to the two perfect miracles they had contributed to creating together.

#Pride and Prejudice #Elizabeth Bennet #Mr Darcy #Lydia Bennet #Elizabeth/Darcy #alternate universe #canon divergence #protective older brother #historical inaccuracies #I wrote a thing #The Brother I Never Had (series)

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cest-la-vieve · 2 years

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A Court of Pain and Pleasure (Ch. 1)

Summary: An ACOTAR fanfic series - eventual Azriel x Reader - detailing the life and story of Evelyn Archeron, the fourth Archeron sister. She’s a year older than Feyre with a physical disability that leaves her unable to help once her family loses its wealth and her father is crippled. She loves Feyre unconditionally and continues to search for her once she is taken to the Spring Court. Little did Evelyn know her little sister’s adventures would help her in more ways than one.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none?? talks of disability/chronic pain but this is mostly just intro stuff lmao

Notes: this has been bouncing around my head since i read all of acotar over my spring break. i’ve been obsessed. hope you guys enjoy!!

Next Chapter: Chapter Two

My Masterlist

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This was not good. As I stood shielding my older sisters from whatever this… thing was in the doorway to our small cottage, that’s what crossed my mind.

Feyre had just brought us a deer and a wolf pelt not soon before this. I had ignored the warning in my stomach when I saw the pelt, something I now regret. I listened carefully as Feyre took the deal to go across the wall with the High Fae, despite my protests. As I watched her leave our cabin with this stranger, I vowed that I would find a way to get her back. I had to.

As the second youngest Archeron sister, I did my best to help Feyre provide for our family but my physical disability prevented me from doing so. My hips were deformed, something inside them not being built quite right, and they prevented me from standing for too long or walking far distances. I did my best to help with what I could - preparing the meat Feyre brought home, keeping the house tidy, repairing clothing that had torn, but my sisters didn’t make it easy. Nesta was too stubborn and preferred to hate my father and yearn for our wealth. Elain, bless her heart, just didn’t quite have the grit or determination to do anything like what Feyre did for us.

So when Feyre was kidnapped to the Faerie realm, something only Nesta and I seemed to recall, though also something we never discussed, I lost one of my best friends. The memories of the hours we had spent talking and supporting one another as our family seemed content to wither away, the laughs we had shared in the darkest moments, the way she would rub my back for me after a particularly painful day, and the lack of just her overall presence made me feel hollow inside. Sure, we had our money back, Nesta was a bit more agreeable, Father traveled more for work, and the men of our small village began courting Elain, but something was missing. I just sat. I read. I plotted ways to get past the wall and rescue Feyre.

On the days I felt up for it, I would take a horse to the nearest pub or any other place I could, asking questions, buying books, and slowly learning more and more about the Fae realm. Strangers would offer stories of their encounters with Fae or tales that had passed down the generations of when humans served as slaves to the High Fae. I learned about this supposed Cauldron and the Mother who the Fae believed created our world.

One night, as I curled up next to a candle with a book that held fables about the Fae-human war, I heard a rustling. My head snapped up. I studied the doorway wearily, not sure if I should prepare to yell, fight, or defend myself. A shadow crossed the floor as someone attempted to sneak past.

“Nesta?”

The figure stopped and turned towards me. Sure enough, Nesta stood with a hooded cloak and a small bag, presumably of food and other supplies.

“Surely you’re not running away now that we’re wealthy again?” I laughed.

“No,” she said seriously, “Not running.”

“Sneaking out to meet a boy then?” I asked, hesitant about her tone.

“I’m going to find Feyre.”

My breath hitched. We hadn’t talked about Feyre since our father had said something about her visiting a sick aunt, despite the knowing glances passed between Nesta and me.

“Can I come?” She shook her head. “You’ll slow me down, it’s a long journey to the Wall.”

I tried not to let that hurt me, knowing she was right that I couldn’t keep up with her for a trek that long. It did hurt, though, knowing that I physically could do nothing to help Feyre.

“At least let me teach you what I’ve learned. I can do that much.” If I couldn’t help her find Feyre and bring her home, I could at least make sure she knew how to protect herself. I watched as she battled internally before slowly nodding and moving forward to sit on the chair across from me.

I smiled slightly and launched into everything I knew: how to kill a Fae, that iron actually didn’t defend against them, how to hide in the woods, where possible weaknesses in the Wall were. We sat like that until the sun began to rise, me trying to dump the most necessary information I could to help Nesta save our younger sister. We came up with a plan for her to leave the next day, I’d cover for her by telling Elain about some business she had with a family across the river. It would buy her enough time to take our fastest horse to the Wall and see what she could discover about Feyre’s whereabouts.

I did my best not to get my hopes up, but the thought of having Feyre home again was more than exciting. I couldn’t wait to hug her again, see her paintings, and, surprisingly, I was excited to hear about her time in the mysterious Fae world. I knew Nesta hated the faeries and I knew Elain was afraid of them, but I found myself more and more curious about their customs, their powers, and their stories. What had started as a research project to get Feyre out of some blood debt to the Fae became a genuine interest and a desperate need to understand them.

Nesta’s first trip didn’t yield much. Nor did the second. Nor the third. After that, she seemed to give up trying to get past the Wall and rescue Feyre on her own. We didn’t talk much after that.

As the months came and went, seasons passing slowly, I began to train myself to walk further, stand longer, and ride a horse as far as I could. If Nesta wasn’t going to continue scouting the Wall, I would have to. I refused to give up.

Most days, I pushed myself so hard that I would cry myself to sleep as my hips and back ached and my body screamed at me for rest. Elain would sit with me sometimes, soothing me, thinking that my condition was just getting worse. I knew, though, that this meant it was getting better. I would have to go through this pain in order to find my sister.

Soon, I was able to move a bit smoother, not without pain but a bit easier. It took a few months until I deemed myself ready to venture to the Wall. I didn’t tell Nesta - I couldn’t tell Nesta. There was no way she would let me go alone and I wasn’t going to let her convince me to stay behind again. So in the middle of the night, I slipped away. I rode and rode until I came upon the Wall. I could feel it, sense it. I swung myself off of my horse, stretching a bit as I tentatively walked forward. I reached out a hand, feeling the power emanating from the not-quite-visible barrier between the human world and the unknown. I pushed my hand against it and my body seemed to hum with energy, but I couldn’t breach it. I walked as far as I could, continually testing for weaknesses, hoping that I could find a spot to cross. But it was useless. How could I, a mere powerless, disabled human hope to best the culmination of decades and centuries of power and magic?

I sighed, made my way back to my horse, and started home.

By the time I arrived, I was exhausted, hungry, and in more pain than I had ever felt in my life. I released my horse back into our family’s stables and was prepared to sneak back in, but I was too tired. I knew Nesta would have a harsh verbal lashing to dole out once I walked back in, but I tried to keep my head held high as I opened our front door. I took one step in before I heard my name, “Evelyn?”

My heart stopped. “Feyre?”

#acotar #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #elain archeron #azriel x ofc #azriel smut #fanfic #acotar smut #acofas

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gemsofgreece · 2 years

Text

The Hymn of Kassia

The Τροπάριον της Κασσιανής (Tropárion tis Kassianís, Hymn of Kassia) is a Greek Orthodox Chant performed in the evening of Holy Tuesday.

Kassia or Kassianí is a saint venerated by the Orthodox Church as well as the Latin and Eastern Catholic Church. Kassiani was a Byzantine Greek composer, hymnographer and poet. A famous legend is associated with her.

Kassiani, Classics Illustrated.

Kassiani was born around 807 in Constantinople into a wealthy family and she was well known for her exceptional beauty and intellect. She participated in the "bride show" organized for young Emperor Theóphilos, who was of Phrygian (Cappadocian) Greek descent. Theophilos was enraptured by her beauty. He stopped in front of her and offered her a golden apple, according to the custom, while saying: «Ὡς ἂρα διά γυναικός ἐρρύη τὰ φαῦλα» (Os ára ðiá yinekós eríi ta fávla), "So, through a woman the baser things come forth", meaning Eve's sin. Kassiani did not touch the apple and responded promptly: «Ἀλλά καὶ διά γυναικός πηγάζει τά κρείττω» (Alá ke ðiá yinekós piɣázi ta kríto), ¨But also through a woman the most excellent things spring¨, meaning the Christ being born to Mary. Of course, a commoner answering back to an emperor, let alone a woman, was not exactly well accepted in the Byzantine etiquette. Theophilos, outwitted in front of his whole court, turned and gave the apple to another girl, the modest Theodora, who was of Armenian descent.

The emperor Theophilos chooses his empress A.D. 829 - Val Cameron Prinsep (1838-1904)

Little is historically confirmed about Kassiani until 843, when she founded a monastery west of Constantinople but she had become a nun before that. According to some sources, she chose the monastic life after her heartbreak, while others argue Kassiani was primarily interested in religious studies and other intellectual endeavours, which she could pursue much more easily in a monastery than as a regular woman in the Byzantine society. Kassiani wrote many hymns still used in the Byzantine liturgy. She also composed the music to accompany her spiritual poetry. 261 works of secular literature are also attributed to her, covering themes such as ethical ideals and weaknesses, social structures, femininity and the defense of women's rights.

Emperor Theophilos was a fierce iconoclast. He persecuted supporters of the veneration of icons and Kassiani did not escape the imperial policy. She was scourged with a lash. Yet she remained outspoken, saying at some point: "I hate silence when it is time to speak." Ironically, Empress Theodora was also against the Iconoclasm and she restored the veneration of icons when her emperor husband died.

Theodora is also venerated as a saint.

According to tradition, Theophilos regretted rejecting Kassiani because of his wounded ego. When he sensed his death was near, he visited her monastery in order to see her one last time. (Theophilos died young, aged 30, from illness.) Kassiani was in her cell, composing one of her hymns. She heard the imperial carriage stopping at the yard and understood. Panicked, she hid herself inside a closet in order to not be tempted to break her monastic vow. Theophilos entered the seemingly empty cell and saw her writings. He sat down, read the unfinished hymn and then added a line of his own. The line attributed to him is this one:

ὧν ἐν τῷ παραδείσῳ Εὔα τὸ δειλινόν, κρότον τοῖς ὠσὶν ἠχηθεῖσα, τῷ φόβῳ ἐκρύβη.

Transliteration: On en to paraðísso Éva to ðilinón, króton tis ossín ihithíssa, to phóvo ekrívi.

Translation: In the paradise at sunset, Eve heard the thump of these (feet) and hid herself in fear.

Emperor Theophilos.

It is thus said that Theophilos understood Kassiani was hiding in the closet. However, he respected her wish to not be seen / tempted and left without a word. Kassiani got out and read what the emperor had written. She kept his addition and finished the hymn with three more lines. The hymn is about the woman caught in adultery and saved by Jesus and not about Mary Magdalene as it is often believed. The hymn is easily recognized by its opening line:

Κύριε, ἡ ἐν πολλαῖς ἁμαρτίαις περιπεσοῦσα γυνή...

Transliteration: Kýrie, e en polés amartíes peripessússa yiní...

Translation: Lord, the woman that fell into much sin...

and it is the one chanted today according to the traditions of the Greek Orthodox Easter.

Saint Kassiani the Poet.

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tobethefairybest · 3 years

Text

Embrace

Happy Gruvia day 2021! For this year's oneshot, I've written a scene that fits the reunion panel of the latest chapter (FT100YQ ch.90). I hope you all enjoy it, I certainly had a lot of fun writing it ^^

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

Her embrace. That was all he could think about when wondering about their return to the guild. How many times had he imagined how she would run to him, how her waist-long hair would tickle his neck and her cheek would squish his in a tight hug.

It was just as he imagined, however, he did not get to enjoy it for long. Her joyful eyes turned big when she took a step back and gasped when her gaze landed on his skin.

''Just what did that Selene do to you?!'' she let out, her hands covering her mouth in shock, ''you've got to get patched up right away.''

He laughed out the other side of his face. ''That's gonna be an issue, as Wendy is completely out of magic power.''

''Why won't you let me patch you up then?'' she suggested, her eyes narrowing and her mouth forming a playful grin.

The thought of escaping the guildhall full of piercing eyes to the infirmary just with her made his head spin. Just why was it so hard to admit?

She either read his mind or made up her own and dragged him away from the reuniting crowd. He just let it happen, he was too tired to think of something to reply anyway.

As soon as they closed the door of the infirmary behind them, Juvia started to look through the improvised cabinets for bandages and plasters.

Gray sat down on a worn-out, clearly third-hand bed with springs that dangerously squeaked. He let out a sigh of relief as he finally sat down for the first time in what seemed like ages.

She came running back to him with arms full of nursing supplies. ''I'm afraid it's all we have in this infirmary, the rest should still be packed away somewhere in the storage room.''

''I'm sure it's enough,'' he reassured her.

She kneeled down behind him. ''I'm going to clean the cut on your back, this might hurt a little.''

He hissed through his teeth as soon as he felt the alcohol seep through his open skin. ''I don't care about the wounds I got during the fights, they'll heal. But that pawn of hers, she absolutely messed with my mind.''

He could practically feel her anger radiate from behind him. ''Please tell me.''

''She tried to trap me in an illusion to keep me unconscious and die from the cold,'' he snickered, but immediately regretted it, as his ribs started to sting in his chest, ''can you imagine? Me, dying from the cold?''

Juvia didn't laugh along. ''What was the illusion?''

''Is that important?'' he tried to avoid the topic by scratching a scab off a wound on his elbow.

''Hey, don't do that! It's trying to heal!'' she said, immediately grabbing a bandage to cover the now bleeding skin with.

''Let's just say the illusion was based on my deepest desires,'' he could feel himself losing grip on his nerves by the second, ''I had to let go of those wishes to be able to snap out of it.''

''That sounds awful,'' she said, gently wrapping his arm. She sat down right next to him, leaving no space between their thighs.

She looked at him with pleading eyes and lay her hand on his knee. ''I'm still dying to know what it was though.''

He gulped almost audibly. She was so close, it threw him off guard. All his senses were sharpened and he felt sweat break out from everywhere.

''Ehrr... I was celebrating my birthday,'' he stammered, ''you were there, but my dad, Ur and Ultear visited too.''

''I'm so sorry to hear,'' she said, visibly regretting her question, ''I know how much you wish they were still here.''

He nodded, holding back the lump in his throat that was now welling up. ''If only they would be around to ever see our-''

He cut off his sentence when he noticed he almost spilled the detail he wanted to keep hidden from her.

She tilted her head. ''Our...what?''

He panicked. A thousand thoughts whirled through his head. There was no way out of this mess anymore.

''Gray?'' she touched his shoulder, which felt tensed up, ''you can tell me, you know that right?''

''In my dream we had a son, okay!'' he yelled out in frustration and jumped back on the floor to pace around the room to hide his flushed face, ''Gahh, this is just too embarrassing!''

''Your deepest wish was to have a family together?'' she managed to softly say through her shaking.

''It's silly, I know, okay?'' he now walked in circles to prevent himself from hitting a wall, ''but I must have realised that after seeing our counterparts in Edolas with their son.''

Her mouth fell open. ''You went back to Edolas?'' she asked in disbelief.

''The moon dragon Selene travels through dimensions, so we ended up in Edolas for a while as well,'' he said, ''time has passed there quicker than here and everyone was years older than the last time I saw them.''

''So... Gray Surge and Juvia from Edolas got married?!'' It was now her turn to turn a shade of red.

He nodded.

''How is he called?''

He took a deep sigh when the image of the cute, little boy came to his mind again. ''His name is Greige.''

''So they have a family, hm?'' She smiled blissfully. ''And that's what you saw in your dream too?''

''I felt happy...'' his voice came out so hoarse it sounded like a whisper and his shoulders started to shake uncontrollably, ''so happy.''

He broke. He sat down at a nearby chair and buried his face in his hands, letting his tears stream down through his fingers. ''I just... I've never felt that way before.''

She walked over to him and stood right before the chair. ''How did you let go of that dream, you said you had to reject it?''

''I realised I wasn't worthy of what I desired,'' he said in a shaking voice, ''I said I- I'm happy enough when you're happy.''

She felt the tears prick behind her own eyes too now. Seeing the strong, cold man she was used to break down in pieces right in front of her was just too much. She now knew for certain what his long-promised answer would be.

''What if I wished for the same dream?''

He looked up in bewilderment. He could barely see her face through the haze in his eyes. Her ocean-blue eyes shimmered.

She smiled through the tears and cupped his stunned face. ''Wouldn't that mean we'd both be happy?''

If he was made out of ice like she was built from water; he would have melted. She was everything he had ever missed.

He reached out a hand to the back of her neck to bring her face closer to his.

Her breath stopped when she felt his fingers tangle in her hair. He didn't need to say anything, she knew instantly what he was aiming for.

She let her hands slide from his cheeks to his hair and closed the last remaining distance between their lips.

A deep warmth spread through every fiber of his being and he kept his eyes shut even when she pulled back to catch her breath.

''It would,'' he said, smiling, before pulling her in once more.

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

Ff.net link

AO3 link

#gruvia #gruvia day #gruvia day 2021 #gray x juvia #gray fullbuster #fairy tail 100 yq #ft fanfic #gruvia fanfiction #gruvia fanfic

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 3 years

Note

ohhh maybe 48 and 86 with yenskier for the prompt thingy 👀

48. Fake dating

86. I didn’t mean to turn you on

A modern AU where Jaskier and Yennefer are both Geralt’s best friends (Geralt and Yennefer dated briefly when they were young, but it didn’t work out and they became good friends.) While they both adore Geralt, they utterly loathe each other.

Their dislike of each other weighs on Geralt, who is having a tough time lately between becoming an accidental father to a toddler and having issues with his partner, Eskel (pro tip: don’t casually tell a friend that you’ll be his daughter’s guardian if anything happens to him and his wife on the assumption that nothing will happen, especially not without telling your partner.) (Don't worry, they figure things out and are great dads to Ciri, but there's just an adjustment period and this is set during that period.)

After Yennefer and Jaskier have a particularly nasty fight one night, Geralt tells them to figure their shit out and to not come back until they do.

Jaskier, who has impeccable decision-making skills suggests a foolproof plan: they tell Geralt that they’ve started to date. That will ease Geralt’s mind and convince him that Jaskier and Yennefer like each other now.

Yennefer is fully aware that this is a shit plan but figures she can get Jaskier to spring for a couple of nice dinners while he’s pretending to be her boyfriend.

To Yennefer’s surprise, Geralt buys the ruse and seems pleased to learn that his two best friends can not only be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off, but actually care about each other.

Jaskier and Yennefer keep meaning to stage an amicable breakup, but neither of them have the heart to do that to Geralt. So they keep letting it drag on: babysitting Ciri together, going out to dinner with Geralt and Eskel, visiting Jaskier’s family together.

The problem is that Jaskier is very physically affectionate with everyone he loves and in order to keep up the ruse, he has to touch Yennefer all the time. Yennefer… does not hate this as much as she should. In fact, she often likes it in a way that is not appropriate for a family event.

If you fuck your fake boyfriend in the car on the side of the road on the way home from dinner with your best friend and his family because he had his hand on your knee all night and it drove you wild, it doesn’t mean anything, okay? It’s just for research.

Jaskier is stunned when he realizes doing simple things like putting his arm around Yennefer and kissing her cheek seems to make her melt. It doesn’t break his heart at all when he realizes how long it’s probably been since someone casually touched her.

Surprising no one but themselves, feelings start being felt. They both handle it in a predictably mature way.

Jaskier immediately goes to get drinks with an ex. Eskel catches him and when Jaskier confesses everything, Eskel tells him that Geralt deserves to know.

Jaskier and Yennefer confess everything to Geralt and their other friends, who are all gobsmacked, because Jaskier and Yennefer were so cute together. And they seemed so happy. And they were spending so much time together, even when no one else was around. And Triss didn’t want to say anything, but she totally saw them fucking on the side of the road when she was driving back from Geralt’s place one night.

Jaskier and Yennefer come to the conclusion at the same time that this fake dating thing isn’t as fake as they both liked to think. In fact, they’re pretty crazy about each other.

When they come back to tell Geralt that they’re dating— for real this time— he just shakes his head, hands them Ciri, and goes to take a nap. Something tells him that he’s going to regret forcing them to figure their shit out.

(He does not actually regret it, except for when they team up against him. Which is often.)

Fanfic Trope Mashup

#the witcher #yennskier #yenskier #jaskier x yennefer #jaskier/yennefer #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #prompt fills

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP Recap (March 9/2021) - Roses and Blood Vines

One day remains before Ponk’s attack. Ponk gives Foolish another warning, another chance to join the Egg. Foolish still says no.

Hannah returns from a five-day journey feeling sickened by something. The Blood Vines have crept onto her house...

Something has to be done.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Tubbo

Foolish

Ranboo

Hannah

Karl

Eret

Captain Puffy

---

- Ponk makes his way through the Nether to the Temple of Undying. He surveys the place, wondering what to blow up first.

- He scouts through the chests, taking some diamonds here and there.

- Ponk places a few pieces of TNT in Foolish’s snake statue as a warning and heads back.

- Foolish joins the call, Ponk now at the Oogway Shrine.

Ponk: “Foolish...you know that time is ticking, right?”

Ponk: “Are you familiar with the hourglass parable?”

Foolish: “No, I am not.”

Ponk: “Me neither, but an hourglass has lots of sand in it, right?”

- Ponk starts talking through the Egg

“Hello, Foolish...the time is ticking...blood, fire and explosions will happen. You’re going to die, Foolish, if you don’t join me. DEATH.”

Foolish: “You speak of my summer home?”

“Your summer home will be no more.”

Foolish: “We’ll see about that.”

“Tick-tock goes the clock.”

- Ponk abruptly switches back to his normal voice and starts talking to Foolish about that scene in Kung Fu Panda where Oogway paralyzes the leopard guy by poking him, and the leopard guy broke out of prison to defeat the five people

- Foolish asks if there’s a meaning to this. Ponk tells him he stole all of his music discs and put TNT in their place.

- Ponk says to be careful about the tripwires he put. Foolish says that with his emerald eyes, he will see through them.

- They go back and forth about preparations and Ponk’s plan. Ponk tries to convince Foolish that actually, he already blew it up (he didn’t)

Ponk: “Look, Foolish...I’m here to offer you another chance, okay? You can join the Egg, be a happy family, y’know? You can be a god, but you have to serve the Egg...”

Foolish: “You see, Ponk, I think the Egg will lead to heartbreak. Misery. Regret. And then death.”

Ponk: “Remember, Foolish, remember...you can never save a life. You can always prolong it.”

Foolish: “I might disagree with that...but that’s for another time.”

- They get distracted by Skeppy’s prank on the mansion

- Ponk goes to an Ender Chest and shows Foolish its contents. Foolish is outraged that Ponk actually took all his discs -- even Pigstep!

- Ponk shows Foolish the Wall of Pog Women

- The subject goes back to the Egg. Ponk asks again if he wants to join the Egg. Foolish says no.

Foolish: “I don’t think the Egg is good for anyone, and you know? The Egg may not even need you guys! The moment the Egg has enough power, it’ll toss you all aside like the little ants you are.”

- They start talking about cats

- Ponk meets Foolish down at the spider spawner and attempts his Technoblade-killing tactic on him.

- Ponk continues to prepare

- Foolish is still working on Tubbo and Ranboo’s mansion

- He goes to see Michelle in Snowchester. He ponders how strange their family is. A sheep pirate, a totem-part-shark and his totem son, an undead zombie piglin baby, the other brother -- a green blob?

“Nice meeting you, Michelle...um, yeah. Hopefully you never meet Dream.”

“...Just your average Minecraft family...”

(More “Schrödinger’s canon” family dynamics for now, but this is the moment the Wiki is referencing if you were wondering)

- Foolish continues work on the mansion

- Hannah heads back to the main Dream SMP area

- She’s been trying to make the server more beautiful, adding trees, flowers, natural things. But she was off picking flowers for the main pathway when she woke up with extreme nausea. She could barely walk.

- It’s finally time. Something is pulling her back.

Hannah: “It’s definitely time to bring spring to the server. This server is so, so messed up. There’s not enough trees, there’s not enough flowers, there’s not enough anything, especially in the main area."

- The only thing keeping her strong -- alive -- are the rose flowers. It took her two days to find the strength to walk back.

- Hannah starts planting flowers everywhere. The pathway is deteriorated, there are no trees, no flowers, not enough natural fauna that weren’t planted by the people. Her flowers have been picked and turned to dye by people. She needs more flowers to stay strong.

- She sees her house has been covered in Blood Vines. She suspects the Blood Vines have been eating up some of her rose flowers. All of it has to go. She doesn’t know who or what this is, but she believes it’s trying to kill her.

- Sam (and Tubbo disguised as Ranboo) arrive, and Hannah speaks with Sam about her house. Sam was coming to clean up the bank site.

- Sam helps Hannah start to clear off the Vines.

- A cow gets in the way. Hannah says it must be contaminated and kills it.

- All of a sudden, Sam shouts to not break anymore. Hannah looks and Bad and Antfrost have arrived.

- Bad says he thought Hannah was a supporter of plants. They don’t see why Hannah needs to clear the Vines away. Hannah and Sam insist they’re just trimming, doing some landscaping because Hannah is allergic.

- Bad and Ant suggest testing? They can take Hannah to a place with a large concentration of Vines and see if they have any effect.

- Hannah says she’s willing to try. Sam tells Hannah he can’t go down there again. They tell Bad and Ant -- Hannah will try it while Sam takes a trip to the Nether. Sam whispers to Hannah that while they’re gone, Sam is going to clear the rest of the Vines in secret.

- Bad and Antfrost admire the Vines in Hannah’s house. Even the dogs seem to like it. Hannah promptly kills the dogs to put them out of their misery.

- Bad and Antfrost take Hannah down to the Egg Room. Hannah puts down a rose to help, but they destroy it. They tell her that the Egg likes her.

- They make her a “seat” (box) of black concrete and say she should stay there for “exposure therapy.” They convince her to put her items in an Ender Chest even as she’s having doubts, and leave her alone there.

- Hannah thought she had no enemies on this server, but she may have made a mistake.

- Karl wakes up in his library. He hangs up the poster for “The Haunted Mansion” and writes the Tale down.

- He writes his next diary entry. He feels confused. He doesn’t know who to trust anymore. At least the Inbetween seems like a genuinely peaceful place, but there were those books warning him about it.

- He decides he needs to get into that portal the next time he visits the Inbetween.

- His memory is getting worse. He needs to tell his friends the stories, but worries he won’t have any at this rate.

- Bad and Sapnap arrive to Kinoko. Karl wants to get new members.

- Sapnap kills Bad, sending him back.

Bad: “What have I told you about playing with fire there, son?”

- Karl plans to spread out advertisements about Kinoko.

- Foolish and HBomb arrive.

- They go to the Holy Land to put up posters.

- George arrives and they all decide to put up a massive poster in front of the prison, where the mining fatigue will make the blocks harder to get rid of. Bad protests this as a prison guard.

- They do it anyway

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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venusguks · 3 years

Text

Solace in Seoul

— Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader (Reader x Kim Taehyung on the side)

— Summary : the falling apart of you and kim taehyung, and the coming together of you and jeon jungkook

— Genre/Warnings : plot driven, angst, smut, fluff, sugar daddy/baby relationship, student/teacher relationship w kth, bsfs2lvrs w jjk, unprotected sex, creampie, degredation, oral (f receiving), jk just wants to love you :(, jk is the absolute sweetest really, spit drinking?, praise ( TW : MENTIONS OF FAMILY ABUSE/BRUISES )

ACT 1. | 134340

The first time you talk to Jeon Jungkook again, your mind is elsewhere, absorbed in the lingering absence of Taehyung.

Spring's gentle breeze carried distant laughter and a faint melody from the music club two floors down. The sky carried drifting clouds, the ocean carried rising tides, and you — You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Or at least it felt like it.

The piles of envelopes concerning last two months’ unpaid bills have been devouring your dinner table and heart alike. After receiving the countless of threatening voicemails from your landlord, you'd be naive not to expect a visit—but opening the door to Mrs. Joomi’s bitter scorn didn’t make you feel any less anxious. Juggling two part time jobs all the while maintaining A’s and B’s was nothing easy to accomplish. Hell, living wasn't even easy, and yet, it was like nothing you did was ever enough.

Grief was your composer and you were her violin—her cruel euphony reverberated through your tears when you sat on the cold kitchen floor last night, sifting between your savings that barely made up one month's rent. On top of your midnight breakdown, your dad decided to come home yesterday out of all days and, well, you know how that goes.

The door clicks open, interrupting you from your trance. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Footsteps pad closer until Taehyung is right next to you. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back against the metal railing, facing the opposite direction. It's quiet at first. You've noticed long ago that your relationship with him was one that was filled with silence. “Somethings bothering you,” He’s the first to break it. Neither of you take your gaze off the cerulean blue sky. “You could tell?”

“Of course I can, angel," his voice is cool, gentle, and it carries you away with the wind. "You dozed off through the whole lecture today."

Shame tinges your cheeks with the faintest pink, “oh... I’m sorry. I was paying attention, really, I was just—"

"Love," he saighs, "you have nothing to be sorry about. You could skip to sleep in the nurse's office for all I care. I'm just worried about you."

“What a good teacher you are,” you smile, a teasing one, but Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Trust me, if I was a good teacher, I wouldn’t be doing this," he sounds apathetic, but that doesn't stop you from frowning. You finally turn to look at him, his curls of deep brown swaying. “Taehyung... please don’t say that. You’re an amazing teacher, everyone knows it.”

You hoped he knew how genuine you were. God, you hoped to the moon he knew just how good he was. Taehyung may have already been admired for his captivating smile and his nonchalant energy, but everyone respected him for so much more. He was the type of teacher everyone wanted—the cause of counselor’s headaches every autumn for receiving heaps of transfer requests. Even parents and teachers fawned over him, baffled to see the passing rate in math tests accumulate over the years. It hurt that he didn't see that, and it hurt more knowing he didn't think he was respectable because of you.

The man tilts his head to look at you, smiling softly. “You know I’m only joking, doll.”

“Whether you're joking or not, I still... it just worries me when you talk like that,” you pause, "....do you really feel that way?" Do you really regret this?

Taehyung sighs, and the jeweled rings adorning his fingers are cold against your skin as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Worrying is my job, angel, so tell me what's been on your mind instead."

If Taehyung noticed the hurt in your eyes, he chose to ignore it. He always did this. You got it, really, you did. There were boundaries for these sorts of relationships. One step closer would bring him one step back, which was why you never probed him any time he disregarded your questions. But a selfish part of you still felt it was a bit unfair, a bit painful to feel him slip away, to realize he was never there in the first place.

It was strange, how he made you feel. His thumb grazed your lips, his breath was light on your skin—if you concentrated hard enough, you swear you could hear his heart beat. He was only inches away.

So why did he feel so far?

Taehyung was your your lighthouse, your harbor, your shore. Through the snowy December nights where his fingers traced sensuous lines down your bare stomach, to the Spring showers of March where his cold lips brushed your inner thigh—Taehyung had always been your solace.

You knew tangling in sexual affairs with your teacher in return for sealed envelopes was wrong, but how could something so sinful feel so heavenly? The unspoken acts committed underneath draped curtains and moonlight's veil felt too dear to you to be called impure. By your sixth rendezvous, you started to wish the intimacy you shared with him could go beyond silk sheets and star speckled lust.

“I want you to confide in me too,” you said one night under the reluctant shadows of warmly lit candles. “I want to help you too, Taehyung. Please, let me help you.” You could tell he's been agitated the whole week, but you'd been too afraid to ask, afraid of him pushing you away. You didn't know where your courage came from then, all that you wished to be more than a distraction. “I don’t need you to help me," Taehyung growled, and you let out a muffled whimper when he rolled your clit with his tongue, your thighs trembling as you reached for his soft curls. "B-But I care a-about—ahn!" You arched your back as he inserted a finger inside of you, curling into your sweet spot with frightening accuracy. "Don’t need you any way else other than this, doll. Just be good and silent for me." That morning, you woke up to a bed void of the man you loved; a white envelope being the only remnant of that night.

You sighed as you recalled that memory, brushing your own fingers over his, tracing the metal bristles of his rings. “Its nothing."

“Don’t say that, angel. I know it’s not nothing."

“Really, Taehyung, i’m fine. Just stressed is all.”

“Stressed...as in financially?” Your sudden tenseness affirms his assumption, making him sigh. "You could've just told me earlier, angel. Tell me how much you need." A repulsing mixture of shame and self resentment brews in your chest, hardening like bitter dalgona. Dirty, despite money sparking your secret arrangement from the very beginning, that’s how you felt every time it was ever brought up. “Hey, look at me doll," as if reading your thoughts, Taehyung gently draws your face close to his with two hands cupping your cheeks, noses barely brushing. “Don’t ever feel guilty about this. Just treat it as an early birthday present, yeah?"

You couldn't help but frowning, your hands roaming the access of his collarbone. "You already do so much for me, Taehyung...I just...I-I feel bad." You failed to notice how rigid he became then, how his eyebrows dipped with evident frustration. "Y/n, you know that—"

Click!

Before you even realize it, you and Taehyung are off each other. When the blue, paint-scraped door opens, sleeked shoes and lively banter are welcomed by two students, diminishing with a glance at the both of you. "Ah, Mr. Kim, there you are! I was looking all over for you. What are you doing here?" A girl's eyes shift from you to the chestnut haired man. Taehyung easy recollects himself as he pats your shoulder, wearing a professional grin. "I stumbled into y/n here, was just giving her some advice but we’ve finished. What did you need me for?”

"Oh...well, about finals week..." You almost let out a sigh of relief as they continued their conversation, but your breath is instantly caught in your throat when your gaze flickers to the boy right next to her.

You were too startled by the sudden interruption that you haven’t completely processed his presence. You almost wish you hadn’t though, now that his doe, big brown eyes mirror your own.

Jungkook was unmoving, and you could've guessed he was conflicted—whether to say hi or to stay silent. Even if you were in the same grade, it was rare to see his face among the carbon copied uniforms. Class C—1 and C—4 were the furthest from each other, and with being the student council event coordinator, you were either neck deep in documents or tucked in the seclusions of the rooftop.

But due to the proud morning announcements and the hushed whispers of admiration, Jungkook never really strayed too far from your orbit. Referred to as the school's golden boy, Jungkook was loved by everyone. He was friends with members from the fashion department to the swim team to the gardening club—Hell, even the occult club. Teachers and students alike wore lenses of adoration for their school’s pride and joy while you tried your best to look away. He may have been in your orbit, but you were two different worlds, encapsulated by the universe but separated by light years of meteors and stars. Jungkook was a nameless planet to you, as you were to him. You never brought yourself to think about it—never had the time for anyway, so seeing him there, floating with the drifting clouds, even you felt a tad bit shaken.

“—kook...Jungkook, hey, Jungkook! I’m gonna go get my assignment with Mr. Kim. Come with?” He blinks profusely, averting his attention from you to the girl wearing raised brows. “Uh, no thank you. Breaks gonna end soon anyways, I think I’ll stay up here. See you after school though?”

“After school,” she clicks her tongue, waving before disappearing down the stairs. Taehyung lingers for a second longer, his eyes flickering to you. “Well I’ll see you next period, Jeon. Bye, y/n." With that, the door shuts behind them, welcoming an air of awkward silence.

Jungkook is the first to clear his throat, “hi, its been awhile," his earrings dangled with his every nervous movement, and you wondered when he'd gotten all his piercings. "Y-Yeah, its been awhile..." you repeat densely as you watch him take the spot Taehyung left, respecting a distance but not standing too far away. He rests his forearms on the metal railing, his elbow barely brushing yours. “Do you usually come up here?"

"Only during lunch."

He hums, "that explains why I never see you."

You frown, both in curiosity and confusion. "You look for me?"

“I-I don’t!” He sputters too quickly. “I just...its just an observation. We’re in the same year after all, and you’re never with the rest of the student council members.” Your brows raise in amusement, “that's surprising.”

“What is?”

“I didn’t think you remembered my name—honestly didn’t think you even remembered I existed.”

“Of course I remember,” he chuckles, “we’ve been friends for 17 years. How could I forget?”

“14 years,” you reminded softly, “we’ve been friends for 14 years.”

A star in Jungkook’s eyes must have died out when you smiled sadly at him. “Oh...right...” he rubs the nape of his neck, sighing. “This is strange, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agree, “strange.” And there it is again. Spring’s momentary silence. You watch as the sun slowly disappears behind sailing clouds. Talking to Jungkook, being alone next to him, was maybe even a little bit uncomfortable. After all, you guys had so much history—where do those film rolls of sun seeped memories go? It was as if they floated all around you, tying your fingers together like the red string of fate. After all those years of suppressing them, it was intoxicating, adamant to be remembered.

“This reminds me of middle school,” Jungkook brings your head back from the sky. “In 5th grade, the highest we could go was at the top of the garden shed. We spent all our breaks there, staring at clouds, complaining about Mr. Lim being too grouchy, or wondering where we'd go after school—what ice cream flavor we’d get at the convenience store. Do you remember?”

"Of course I do," despite yourself, your heart softens to the recollection. It was your secret hiding spot, blocked by the slant of the roof and the trees barricading the other side. The sky, wind, and Jungkook had been your only escape from the problem solving in math and the problem solving you had to do on your own when you were 10, wondering what the budget for that week's grocery would be. “We thought we were so cool, that we were on top of the world.”

“Correction, you thought you were so cool. You even promised to show me your own space ship, remember?”

“God, please don’t,” you groan, covering your face with your palms. You knew exactly where this was going, and you guessed Jungkook still knew exactly how to embarrass you. “You told me you were a space—“

“—adventurer!” You beamed a toothy grin, two hands proudly on your hips. Jungkook looked up at you with sparkling eyes, pupils as large as beloved full moons. “You mean...an astronaut?”

Your smile immediately drops into a disappointed frown. You demanded upmost reverence, so you didn’t really appreciate it when he questioned you. “No, no. Not an astronaut. A space adventure. s-p-a-c-e a-d-v-e-n-c-h-u-r-r. Gosh, Kookie. If you want me to bring you along in my journeys, you have to keep up.” Jungkook only nodded, trying his best to stifle a chuckle. He won the 3rd grade spelling bee, so he was at least 85% confident the word adventurer didn't have a 'ch' in it.

He decided to let it go though. He knew—the same way he knew that you’d certainly cry if he corrected you—that you were afraid of heights. If it took weeks to encourage you to finally climb a roof, he was the certain you wouldn’t be able to handle the height of the galaxy. But then again, he always had a soft spot for you. “I’m building a space ship right now actually! Its called the Bon Voyage. When it's finished, I’m going to Pluto. You won’t believe how big space is. There are strawberries there!"

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your silly declaration, and even then, he felt sad. He knew that being a space adventurer—being able to maneuver gravity and time on your own whims—was only an innocent imagination of escapism, but still. Every single time you’d flinch when a hand was brought up near you, every time you’d pull on your jacket despite it being hot, he wished your imagination could be real. Wished he could make it real for you—keep you safe from earth and all your troubles.

“I’d like to see the strawberries.. with you,” Jungkook smiled softly. You grinned, and it was the most precious thing Jungkook saw as you stuck your pinky finger out. “Then it’s settled, I’m taking you with me.”

“To pluto?” He wrapped his small finger with yours, and you sealed it with your thumbs pressed against each other's. “To pluto!”

Jungkook was in a fit of laughter, and despite burying your face further into your hands, you couldn't help but smile. “I can’t believe you knew I was lying. God, I must’ve looked like a total idiot.” His elbows were pressed against yours now, sending a surge of warmth to your heart at the familiar skin ship. Jungkook must have not noticed, for he only kept giggling, and you certainly wouldn't bring it up. “It was cute, really. The strawberries and everything. It was really cute.”

"Whatever, Jungkook," you rolled your eyes, and uncovering your eyes, you looked at him. Truly looked at him this time. His smooth, unwrinkled uniform. His hair that grew over time, kissing past his eyelashes and swaying with the wind. The tiny mole peeking under his bottom lip, the familiar scrunch of his nose as he grinned widely. The speckled brown of his eyes were so warm, almost dreamlike against the golden sun. Under long years of an uncalled contact, of an untouched hand, of a voiceless wonder—‘how have you been?’ ‘what was on your mind today?’—you saw the Jungkook you once knew, your dearest friend. And with his smile, you found your heart aching and full at the same time.

ringggggg!

The alarm jolts the both of you, severing spring’s heartbeat as loud chatter and footsteps disrupt the moment from open windows.

You only stare at each other for a brief second before you give a half smile, “that's the bell, we should go.” Without waiting for an answer, you followed the pace of the rest of school, but before you could take a step down the staircase, Jungkook takes your hand. His grip isn’t tight or rough. Its gentle, reluctant. You turn around, and the sun is behind him, kissing the back of his head with its golden, stray flakes.

"What is it?" You furrowed your brows. “I...its just..." It takes a moment before Jungkook speaks, cheeks tinged with a faint red. "Y/n I, I miss—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt in masked panic, averting your eyes as you pulled your hand back. In truth, you were scared. Finals week would be soon and you didn’t think you could handle any more mental strain than you already had, especially not with him. “I-I think we’re going to be late.” Jungkook eyes widen for a second, stricken with dejection. He mumbles, “right...”

You don’t dare to look at him, turning away, you say, “it was nice talking to you again. Bye, Jungkook.”

ACT 2. | DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR

The second time you see Jungkook again, the spring showers are sharp against your skin. You had just gotten off from your 6 hour shift, and where the sunset hues of timid pink and vibrant yellow were supposed to be, the overcast sky was instead. It's been about 30 minutes since you clocked off, but you knew your dad was home, so you decided to take the long way back.

It didn't matter that you were a blur of blue walking in grey tainted streets. Didn’t matter that the downpour soaked your clothes or that cars occasionally splashed you with murky road puddles. You could be anywhere, and anywhere would be better than where your dad was.

Droplets drooped down your eyelashes, dribbling down onto your phone. It’s screen illuminated your color drained face. You stared at Taehyung’s contact, biting your lip nervously.

YOU :

hey taehyung, can i come over? if that's possible of course|

hey taehyung, can i come over? i|

hey taehy/

.../

i need you|

Your thumb hovered over the tempting, blue send button. Press it, Y/n. Just press it. (But would he mind?) He said it was okay to ask for help. (But... what if he's busy right now?) It's okay to ask. (You'd just be bothering him. If you're too needy, he'll push you away, you know that.) Just press the damned—

“Y/n!” A hand reaches your back, and although it was a mere brush, you yelp in alarm, instantly stumbling back. When you're sure you're about to be submerged into a puddle, a hand firmly grasps your forearm, steadying you as the said person pulls you closer to them. The rain stops—or rather, patters against an umbrella now hovering over you. Your eyes flutter from the hand holding you to the hand holding the umbrella handle, and lastly, the holder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungkook half laughs. When you don’t reply, your mouth only agape, he adds, “are you okay?” It takes you a moment before you nod. You were close, as close two people could be under a small umbrella (or was it because Jungkook has gotten really big?), so you take a step back. But before you could feel even one raindrop on your face again, Jungkook pulls you back into him, “I don’t want you getting sick, y/n.”

“I’m already soaked anyways,” you frown, but he only disregards you. “Where are you heading?”

“Nowhere.”

When his brows threatened to crease, you add, “Got off work a few minutes ago, I was just taking a stroll.” Jungkook opened his mouth, and you were sure he was going to say something in the lines of, “in the rain? have you gone mad?” But to your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers intertwine with yours. “My homes not far. Come with me?”

"Your...home?” You repeat dumbly, disregarding how warm his hand was—how you missed it, how right it felt in yours. “Yeah, if thats okay with you. If not, then mind if I walked with you?” You pause, taking in Jungkook’s attire. What he was doing in a button down, black trousers, and sleek shoes, you didn’t know—but his dry state save for the few droplets on his clothes meant that he'd much rather prefer to be under a roof. You weren’t sure if he was going to take no for an answer, and being under shelter did sound pleasant. At least, more pleasant than being in wet socks. “Okay,” you say, “take me home.”

When you arrive, you're relieved to discover Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are on a business trip. You missed the Jeons, truly—they were the only family you’ve ever known, but you didn’t think you were ready to see them again.

You remembered Jungkook’s house being an absolute palace when you were a child—modernized with elegance adorned with a scenic garden and a clean landscape—but it still didn’t fail to leave your jaw agape. Expansive was always an understatement. “Here, get changed,” Jungkook hands a towel, an oversized sweater and sweatpants, and of course, fuzzy socks. You only nodded as he led you through the familiar halls to his room. “Just call for me when you’re done, kay?”

“Mm,” you mumbled, still in a daze even after he left. Bittersweet nostalgia filled your nostrils with the scent of vanilla and almonds, a soy candle he still apparently loves. It's only been three years since you’ve last set foot on his grey, hardwood floors, but you still noticed the subtle changes. Instead of pokemon action figures—burnished, golden trophies filled his glass shelves. They were only a few Jungkook was really proud of, otherwise his room would be brimmed with his accomplishments.

Picture perfect polaroids capturing euphoric memories and cheerful grins scattered Jungkook's walls. A refined stereo set replaced the bright blue boom box of your childhood, the one covered with doraemon stickers and scratches. Memories of 4th grades' January flooded your mind, when the blandness of the month was disrupted with color as the two of you jammed to Ego by JHOPE on repeat. Jungkook may have added and taken a few things out, but you found anchor in what stayed the same. His plants that hung from the ceiling were still there, ivies draped with growth over the past years. Kim Namjoon, Jungkook’s long time idol, smiled from a framed poster on his wall. Everything was still polished with his neatness, a habit you had always commended him for.

As you dried your damp hair, a photo frame catches your eye, sitting on the side of his bookshelf. Your breath catches in your throat. You slowly walk to the dainty item, painted white and blue to resemble noon skies. In the corner of the frame ignited a bright, pale limerence. Sparks of vivid blue and tangerine whipped through the wooden confines. You felt your heart thump against your chest. It was a—

"Daytime shooting star!" You gleamed, holding a paint brush into the sky, the handle rough from years of dried paint. It was a hot summer day, a few weeks after the end of seventh grade. Cicadas sung adamant songs through Jungkook's cracked open window as the two of you sat on his floor, blanketed with a fuzzy iron man carpet.

He looked at you quizzically, "a daytime shooting star?" As far as Jungkook knew, there was no such thing. "Yeah," you chirp. "That's you, Kook. You're my daytime shooting star." Jungkook nearly dropped his paint brush then, risking his favorite carpet as he looked at you, wide eyed with stun. You were wearing his t-shirt as per usual, your face smudged with blue paint and an innocent smile. Jungkook hated you for it.

It was always your choice of words—my Jungkook, my Kook, my Kookie, and now, my daytime shooting star—that he swore would be the death of him every single time. He didn't even know what you meant, but he didn't care, because being called yours was enough to kill him.

"Th-Thats stupid," he mumbled as he looked away, a futile attempt to hide his burning cheeks. "That doesn't even make sense." When the air shifted to silence, Jungkook immediately regretted his words. He quickly turned back around, fearing he accidentally hurt your feelings due to his own fluster. Maybe that was when Jungkook realized you really had grown up since the 6th grade, because this time, tears didn't drip down your cheeks. Instead, your eyes were curious and doe as you tilted your head to your side. "Does it matter?"

"What?

“A lot of things don’t make sense, but does it have to matter?” You frowned.

“I-I don’t—”

“I like you a lot, Kook,” and though you weren't at the least bit shy saying so, Jungkook’s emotions exploded everywhere. “I don’t think you need reasons to like someone, but you’re my daytime shooting star, Kook, and that's my reason. Can't I just like you? Does it...does it have to make sense?”

It felt like light years as Jungkook stared, red as he looked into the golden specks of your eyes, glinting from the blazing sun. “I-I don't know,” he gulped, his voice small. He was going to leave it at that at first. He didn't know what to say—what he could say. His mind was as clumsy and berserk as a deflating balloon to your previous words, but when he saw your sullen eyes and mopey pout, he felt an inadvertent panic in his gut.

His eyes shifted to his boom box. Etched on the side of the speaker was Doraemon, giving him a childish wink and thumbs up. Jungkook groaned in annoyance and you looked up, curious as he scratched the back of his head. "M-maybe we could...see it," he mumbled, barely grumbling, but your heart leapt with every syllable of his words. "Someday, together. The—"

“Daytime shooting star.”

You jumped, instantly whirling around to see Jungkook leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his torso. His eyes were soft, as if his gaze itself caressed you. “Y-You...” your thumb grazed the flimsy wood. “You still have this.”

“Yeah, and I still don’t have a photo,” he chuckled, making his way towards you. “14 years of friendship and you’d think we’d finally have a perfect picture to put in the frame.” It was pretty silly now that you thought about it. Despite spending a whole summer’s day decorating the item with childlike ambivalence, you never allowed Jungkook to slide a photo in it. No, it couldn’t just be any glossy photograph. You fussed over the concept of a perfect portrait, but nothing ever satisfied you enough, and with each passing year, it must've slipped your mind.

“I don’t get it... We haven’t talked for like, three years, and you still have this?”

"Does it have to make sense that I did?” Jungkook tilted his head, his eyelids lowering to look down at you. You open your mouth to reprimand him for using your words against you, but no words come out. Fuck. You swear it was his eyes—you’ve always said they were full of magic when you were children. It must’ve been that damned spellbinding luster that stole your voice. “What did you mean?” Jungkook takes a tentative step forward.

“Huh?” It came out like a breath.

Maybe it was the dim incandescence of the room, complementing the silhouette of his sculpted physique. Maybe it was the fact that the cloth he wore seemed too thin, too tense around his biceps and broad shoulders. Maybe it was because his first three buttons were left unclasped, teasing the faint outline of his chest. Or maybe it was the fact that you were so used to being in eye level with him—hell, looking down at him in the earlier points of your life. But you realized then, as Jungkook stared at you with a glint you couldn’t seem to quite recognize, how small you felt in front of him. Under him.

“When you said I was your daytime shooting star. You never explained it to me, what you meant,” Jungkook takes one final step forward, and the distance between you is insignificant. You don’t move—didn’t even think you could with your back pressed against his bookshelf. You could only return his gaze, doe eyes wavering beneath his. “What I meant to you...what I still mean to you.”

Your breath hitches, “Kook...”

“Fuck, I missed that,” his voice is low, breathless as his fingers brush your cheeks. “So fucking much, Y/n. I missed you calling my name, whatever you say. Kook, Kookie, Jungkook—I don’t care, just missed your voice, I still do. Don’t you know? Everyday, how much I long for you?”

Your eyes widen at his assertion. Wherever this was coming from, you didn't have the heart to stop it. "J-Jung—"

“—I miss you, Y/n. Any time I'm not around you it hurts and every time I am it hurts even worse.” His voice is so gentle, you fear he could hear the rhythm of your heart beat, palpitating with the heavy raindrops against his window.

“Why....why did you push me away?”

The waves were restless that cold, autumn night—you saw it through the fogged window of the train. Exhaustion tugged your eyes and your muscles screamed with every movement. As the train tracks rumbled beneath you, you wondered if you were even alive anymore, at least, it didn’t feel like it. All that was certain to you was the midnight stars outside, following you no matter where you went.

You didn’t know when the train entered the station, sighing to a stop as the doors slid open with a loud gush. It was probably 2am—Maybe 3, and the carts didn’t hold people this time around. At least you didn’t think it did, you honestly didn’t have the energy to even think about it. You only wondered how further you could go without knowing exactly how far you already went. Your neck ached from your head hanging low, and if it was cold, you didn’t feel it. All you felt was numb. An aching, dull pain eating away at your heart.

It was when you heard rushed heaves and loud footsteps that your eyes widened to see a familiar pair of green converse stop in front of you. You lift up your head to see Jungkook, cheeks red either from crying or the cold, maybe both. His brows were deeply furrowed as he crouched down, his hands gripping your shoulders.

“C-Can you hear me, Y/n? Are—are you okay?” You only nodded. He felt like a mirage, a dream.

You didn’t know what he saw in you that caused the droplets of sorrow to drip from his eye—whether it was the bruises covering your body, or the deep eye bags from restless nights at work—but it made you sad, how he looked at you. You wished he’d stopped. You wished you could be so far away that he didn’t have to look at you anymore.

“You’re, fuck, you’re freezing,” Jungkook quickly pulls his coat off and swathes it around you. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here earlier.” You shook your head, your dull headache being replaced with confusion. “Why are you even apologizing, Kook? H-How did you even find me? Why are you even here?” You had turned off your cell the whole day and gave no indication to where you’d be. You didn’t even tell Jungkook how you were feeling, it made no sense to see him there, holding you.

“We’re soulmates remember? Of course I’d know,” Jungkook tries his best to give a smile. “I’m here because you are. Just—look, lets get you out of here first okay?” Before you can tell him you can walk by yourself, he lifts you up, taking your hand as he leads you out. “The next train back to Seoul arrives in 8 minutes,” Even when Jungkook and you sit down on a bench, he doesn’t let go. He’s shaking, you realize, with his fingers intertwined with yours. It was as if he wanted to hold you tighter, but he was afraid. Afraid of what? Afraid of hurting you? Or afraid of you hurting him if you slip out of his grasp any further?

“How did you know?” You begin again. “I told you I was sick, I called the school too. A-and how did you even know where I was?”

“You called in sick for three days Y/n,” he frowns, “and you haven’t texted me once. I was so worried, fuck, I was so fucking worried when I went to your house to see that you weren't there. All my calls went straight to voice mail, and I saw...I-I saw the shattered beer bottles, the blood. I-I panicked, even thought of calling the police,” when your face goes rigid, he assures you, “of course I wouldn’t though, I would never do that you. But anyway, it took me awhile to guess, and I wasn’t even sure—just started running. I imagined you’d definitely be in a space ship to Pluto right about now, but I took a risky bet on the train station. You know, being much more accessible to us and all.” When Jungkook finishes light heartedly, you give a dry laugh, “you know me so well, Koo."

His small grin falls shortly as silence does, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on your hand. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet, sad, “You always...you always said you’d bring me. We’re a team aren’t we? You and me, I-I thought...I would’ve been there, Y/n. You know I'd be there for you in a heartbeat. Don't you trust me?”

"Of course I trust you, Kook," you quickly assure him through your thin veil of tears. It hurt too much to know you were the reason for the crack in his voice, for the ache in his heart, for his glazed eyes. You couldn't stand his pity, but you couldn't stand being the source of his grief either. "Then why didn't you call me..? All I ever wanted was to be there for you, all I ever want is to be by your side, y/n. Why won't you just let me help you?”

“Because you don’t understand, Kook,” you croak. “You don't understand how hard it is for me—how hard it's always been. It'll only ever always be like this, and I-I can't just...fuck Kook, I can't just depend on you every time I get hurt. My problems are for me to sort out, I have no one but myself.”

“But you have me, y/n," the tears you fought so hard to hold back falls when Jungkook covers both your cheeks with his hands. The boy inhales sharply, trying to calm himself from crying any longer as he presses his forehead against yours. "It hurts me so much when you talk like that, y/n. You have me, you always have me. A-and it scares me because sometimes it just feels like I don't have you, that I never did and—"

"Jung—"

"You’ve been so distant lately," his breath is shaky and hot against your skin. "....It feels like you’re going to leave me. Please, don’t. Don't leave me behind like this, y/n.” You don't say anything else, too overwhelmed with his heartache beating with yours. In that cold autumn night, all you could do was cry in his arms.

The train arrives shortly.

“Lets go home," Jungkook murmurs sweetly against your skin. He kisses your forehead softly, and when he does, it feels like you already are home.

“Come here,” he grins, standing up with his hand out. You take it. “Have you eaten yet? I can make us food when we get back. What would you like?”

“Honestly? Just ramen.” Jungkook groans as you step inside the desolate train cart. “You know I could cook something way better for us."

"Nothing is better than ramen with eggs, Kook," you chide, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes. You take your hand away from him, and Jungkook tenses, only to relax when you cup his cheek once more. “But seriously, thank you, Jungkook. For everything. For worrying, being here for me, for finding me." He smiles, his eyes like crescent moons luminescent with love as he looks down at you, "always.”

"You said you'd do anything for me right?”

“Of course, anything, y/n.”

“Then please stop after this," you keep your small smile even as Jungkook's brows furrowed with confusion. You said it so simply, so plainly that he thought he might have heard you wrong. "What do you...?"

“Nothing will change after this. Nothing. I can't escape from my life, I can't escape from debt or my dad no matter how hard I try—and being the cause of your anxiety won't help me. I don't need a savior, and I don't think you need me holding you back either. We're burdening each other Kook.” With a heavy gush, the train doors start sliding shut and before Jungkook can even comprehend your words, you step out. “Don't have worry about me anymore, okay?”

“W-Wait— y/n—!” He’s quick to run, but it's too late. The doors slide shut, finally severing the thin red string of fate that held the two of you.

The rain falls with your tears as you cry into your hands, guilt washing over you like tidal waves. You remember his face the most, how heartbreak and betrayal etched with the dying fade of his smile. How you left him that day, how you left him everyday after that.

“I-I was just so tired, so tired of everything. I... I'm so sorry I pushed you away. I just didn't want you to worry about me anymore. You were always so good, everything about you, and I was scared I was holding you back and...and it hurt too much to stay knowing I was." Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand gently pulled your head to his body. You're too stunned to move, but when you gather yourself, you decide you don't want to. You just cry, burying your face into his chest, your hands tightening around his shirt.

"I never once stopped thinking about you, y/n," he mumbled into your hair. "I never once not worried, never once not looked for you, and you—god, y/n—you never once held me back. Silly girl, don’t you know you were the only one who kept me together?” Jungkook lets out a noise, somewhere in between a sigh and a groan as he lowers his head onto your shoulder, "I did everything, anything to keep myself distracted from you. Competitions, sports, art, studies, friends.” His soft hair tickled your jaw as he nuzzled closer into the crook of your neck. “But I couldn’t, y/n, it was always you, it was never not you. Do you know how torn I was, watching you and not being able to talk to you? To hold you, be afraid of losing you even more than I already had?"

The pitter-pattering of the rain against the rooftop fills the voice you can’t seem to conjure. "Did you ever miss me?” Jungkook pulls away, and your eyes lock with his under the blue world. You realize then, by looking at him, just how scared he was. If you pushed him away again, he didn’t know what he’d do.

Reluctantly, you bring your hand to sweep Jungkook's tousled bangs away, brushing your fingers against the shell of his ear. "I did," you whisper, and more clearly, "I-I did, of course I did.” When Jungkook doesn't respond, your hand trails down his neck ... to his shoulders ... to his chest. "Do you hate me?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, "N-no." He could never.

"Your heart is beating so fast.... are you afraid?"

"I am."

"I am too," you lift his hand and place it against your own chest, laying it atop your own heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, you don’t catch the pink of his cheeks when you’re too busy staring at the sad stars in his eyes. "I was too, back then. I know it's selfish, and i-i'm sorry I hurt you, but I hope you understand what kind of position I was in. I was so young, so scared—I just wanted to be alone, felt like it was a way to protect myself from anything else that could hurt me. I’m different now, I think, more stable—whatever that is," you chuckle dryly. "I can’t promise I won’t push you away, but I won’t leave anymore, really, s-so...."

Jungkook's eyes soften, his lids lowering when you say, "Can you trust me?"

"Of course," Jungkook breathes, “always.”

ACT III. | EPIPHANY

"Just go to sleep already, Jeon."

You've been repeating yourself for the past 3 hours, watching him restlessly saunter around his room. "...swear i’m missing something, I just don't know what..." Jungkook, like the countless of other times, dismissed you as he continued to tap his finger on his chin, mumbling to himself in intense focus. It was only when you’ve finally had enough, groaning and hurling a tissue box at him—which he instantly caught with ease—that he finally noticed your glare. "What was that for?"

"I said just go to sleep already!" You exhaled frustratedly, "you packed your whole room at this point, Kook. I swear you have, like, triple of everything you don't even need—so for the thousandth time, could you please just shut the lights?" It's been a few weeks since that one spring evening, and time started ticking again with Jungkook by your side. It took you awhile to adjust to his company, it was odd—but everything was odd at this point. Odd but comforting when Jungkook started visiting the rooftop every lunch, odd but reassuring when he'd pick you up after every shift, and odd but exciting to spend the night with him before the anticipated field trip to Jeju island. The four days were a granted escape before the tumultuous finals of the upcoming winter. Even you were a bit eager to go, having finally taken a justified leave off work.

"Fine, fine, but if I do end up forgetting something important, I blame you," Jungkook huffs, sauntering to the light switch. “Go ahead,” you roll your eyes, and with a small click!, a satisfied sigh escapes your lips. “Finally,” You snuggled into his pillows, but when the bed dips down right next to you, you realized you had forgotten to ask Jungkook to shut his mouth as well. "Will you sit next to me on the way there?" You squinted to the darkness, raising your brows at the silhouette of his figure. "Jungkook, you're literally my only friend, do you even need to ask?" He chuckled, "but will you? We don't have to sit with my friends if you don't want to."

You hummed, thinking as Jungkook carefully brushed loose strands of hair away from your face, the warmth of his fingers trailing down the side of your neck. You were reluctant about being seen with Jungkook at first, but the choice wasn't left to you when his friends spotted you and him at the library sometime ago. It honestly wasn't as bad as you expected, and more surprisingly, you even clicked with a few with them. Seokjin was one you gravitated to the most, being a truly funny and charming senior that you felt you could look up to. "No, it's fine. I like your friends." Jungkook’s head perked up, and the darkness captures the bright twinkle in his eyes. "Really, you do?" You smile, knowing how happy that must have made him. "Really, I do. Now can we please go to sleep? I'd like to be at least remotely awake for the first day."

“Okay, okay, grumpy head," a bunny like grin appears on his face as pinches your cheek, chuckling when you only grumble in return.

He strokes your hair down one last time before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good night, y/n.”

"Good night, Kook," the reassuring warmth of his skin leaves yours, and you hear him shuffle in his own mattress on the floor. It's been awhile since you've felt like this, so safe. Though it didn't necessarily matter, being with Jungkook was different with Taehyung, you noticed. When it came to Taehyung, it was as if all your problems could dissipate with his touch. That for a moment, they could just disappear.

When it came to Jungkook, though, your problems were still there. They existed, they were real, and yet, when you with him, it felt like everything would be okay. He was like a breath fresh air, and you felt like you could get through anything—whatever it may be, as long as he was there. With that thought, you slowly, but surely, drifted to sleep.

ringgggg!! ringgg!!! ringggg!!

What happened afterwards came in fragments of fuzzy memories, distorted with exhaustion. It was the phone ringing first, then it was the shuffle of Jungkook rising from his mattress. The ringing, his heavy yawn, the ringing, groggy footsteps, the ringing, the clatter of the drawer—and finally, silence. "Y/n...?" His voice barely reached where your mind was, deep inside the depths of whatever dream dimension you were in. "Y/n," he said again. No reply. "Y/n... Y/n!"

"What?!" You groaned, lazily sitting up with a snarl and a bed head. The ringing starts again and you rub your eyes to where your phone screen illuminated Jungkook's face. "What is it?" You mumble, a little concerned to his expression. "God, is it Mrs. Joomi again? I just paid this month’s rent like a few d—"

"Mr. Kim."

You freeze. The two, single words are akin to iced buckets of water being splashed onto your face, instantly waking you up.

"Taehyung with a heart and moon emoji—but that's Mr. Kim, isn't it? In that photo? That's his first name." Your heart lurches forward. 태형☽<3, displaying a low quality photo of him that you secretly took while he was preparing breakfast. It was once a happy morning, and this was once a happy night—disrupted by its forbidden rays of joy.

When Jungkook finally looks at you through the stark darkness, you can only stare back, your heartbeats filling the silent stun of your dry throat. The bubbly melody stops, and when you don't say anything, Jungkook's voice grows louder, "Y/n what—what the hell is this? Why is Mr. Kim calling you at 3am? Why do you have a photo of him? Why is his contact—"

"J-Jungkook," You nervously moved to sit on the front edge of the bed, attempting to speak as calmly as you can. Jungkook would understand...right? He wouldn't tell, he couldn't. He knows you, your financial situation. It was okay. "Remember when you asked me not to push you away? Well, this is me letting you in. This is me trusting you Jungkook, so please just hear me out." Under the moonlight's glower, you see the bob of his adam's apple rise and fall. "Taehyung, he—"

"Taehyung?" You wince, the acidity of his voice like bitter poison. "I-I mean, Mr. Kim. M-Mr. Kim, he...helps me."

"Helps you?" Jungkook scoffs. "At 3am? How could he—" Suddenly, Jungkook's eyes go wide. "Y/n, you don't mean..."

You nod stiffly, "he gives me money in exchange for....i-its consensual! He helps me," your cheeks heat up, hating yourself for allowing this to happen, having to explain yourself. “A-anyway the point is, you won't tell anyone, right? You understand, don't you, Kook?"

"Understand?! Y/n—he’s a teacher! He's seven fucking years older than us—are you stupid, what were you thinking?!" The sting of his words ring in your ears like a harsh slap across your face. Throughout your years together, Jungkook had barely had the heart to scold you, so you were more than unprepared for his hurtful words. Your shock quickly subdues into anger though, and you stand up, “what I was thinking? What I was thinking?! I don't know Kook, maybe thinking about my fucking electric bill! Thinking about how to pay off debt—how to buy food for fuck's sake! I've looked after myself my whole life, and this is no different."

"Still—This is wrong, y/n! You know that! There are other ways like, like—"

"Like what Jungkook?!" You're in front of him now, pushing at his chest. "Working my ass off in nine to fives? Well I do that, Kook, every fucking day and yeah, a fucking disappointment for me too that it's not enough. You could never know how its like for me, but out of everyone, you're supposed to...! You’re supposed to understand,” you chuckle bitterly, shaking your head as a futile attempt to shake the hot tears away.

"Y/n...” Jungkook’s anger diminishes into a frustrated panic. He tries to reach for you, hold you, anything to keep you from crying because of him—but you turn away, and despite himself, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He sighs harshly, his voice much softer now, “I just—out of all these years, you could've asked me. I was always there, y/n, and you never accepted me. I know we talked about this already, but the fact that...” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I do understand, but I was always here. I was your best friend, why did you have to go to him? Am I...am I that unreliable to you?"

Your own heart sinks for him this time, quickly shaking your head. “No, Kook. I-It's not like that. I'm sorry this has to be so complicated, that i've made you feel small. You are reliable, Jungkook. You're my safe place, my person—always have been. I appreciated you so much but you need to understand how terrible it felt for me back then. I hated being pitied by you. You’re my friend, not a fucking philanthropist."

Jungkook takes your hand this time, "I never wanted to help you because I pitied you, y/n. You were always so strong, I don't think you could ever be someone I could pity. I wanted to help because I cared for you, loved you, and it breaks my heart knowing that you went through such lengths when you could've turned to me."

You sigh, threading your hands over the back of his hair. "It was all just circumstantial, Kook. Taehyung found me at a really low point in my life. I didn't search for it, but he was there and i’m thankful for yim, so please Jungkook, please." Your eyes wavered beneath his sad stare, hoping, pleading. Jungkook bites on his lip, cursing, "look...I won't tell on you if that's what you're thinking. I would never do that to you, i'm just worried. He's calling you at nearly 4am, y/n—shit, h-has he hurt you? Did he ever make you do anything you didn't want to?" Jungkook looks frantic for a second, but you quickly shake your head. "N-no! No, god no, he's never hurt me! You know him Kook, Tae would never hurt me." You miss how you even said Tae or how Jungkook's jaw clenched to it.

"I won't say anything, y/n, at least...not yet. You have to end it."

"W-What?"

"He took advantage of you in a low position in your life, y/n."

"N-No Kook, you don't understand!"

"It's not your fault, y/n, it's completely his. He's the adult here, it was wrong. You have to end this."

"But I can't! The money, Kook, you know I can't."

"Then let me help you," he steps closer. Your hands slide to his chest now, shaking your head. "No, Jungkook, my answer has been no and its still no. I refuse to be your charity case," you scoff. "Then you're not going to be. I'll pay you to sleep with me too."

Your eyes instantly shoot open. What..?

"I'll pay you to sleep with me," he repeats calmly. "Anytime you need it, anytime I want it, and I'm certain I'll be able to give you more than whatever Mr. Kim could." Your mouth only hangs open, words dying in your dry throat.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks, taking a step closer. This time, you take a step back. "If you were fine with doing it with Mr. Kim, shouldn't it be fine with me?"

"N-No," your voice is barely a shaky whisper. More clearly, "No, Jungkook. I can't just—we just started talking again. You're my only friend, I won't ruin us just for—"

"I won't let anything happen to us, I promise y/n."

"B-but—"

"You don't have to worry about it, okay? Plus, isn't this situation more ideal? You'd get paid more and you wouldn't have to rely on—"

"I love him!"

Its Jungkook's turn to be silent. "What..?"

"I love him Kook," you croak, heat overwhelming your cheeks.

"Y/n..."

"I know it's wrong, I know he seems like an asshole but he's not. I know him, Kook, and i’m mature enough to know myself too. I made my decision back then, and I keep making it today because...I love him." You can’t help but feel your anguish trickle down your eyes, and you cry into your hands. That’s it then. It’s done. You’ve finally admitted it, yet despite the burden of the untold truth lifting—you felt heavier, worse. By now, Jungkook would’ve pulled you into a warm embrace. He’d hush you with soothing murmurs and delicate kisses on your forehead. He’d trail his fingers through your hair, tell you that he knew, that he gets it, that it was okay. But he doesn’t. He couldn’t. You were crying for another man, and all he could feel was ache.

Your phone rings once more, and from the night stand, you see Taehyung’s figure on the dimmed screen. You reluctantly look at Jungkook, but when he doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, you take it. "H-hello?"

"Hey, doll," Taehyung's voice is low. "I’m sorry I keep calling, I feel really shit for waking you up at this time. I know the Jeju trip is in a few hours, but I just needed to talk to you."

"No, no, its fine. I was already awake anyways, um...what is it?" You turned away from Jungkook, nervously biting on your lip. Despite everything that had unfolded between the two of you, it was strange. Taehyung never called you at this time after all—and him saying you guys needed to talk only heightened your nerves.

"It's better to talk in person. Where are you? I can pick you up." You shake your head, despite not him being able to see you. "N-No, i’ll come over...is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll see you soon." With that, the call ends. You can feel Jungkook’s eyes on your back—its overwhelming, and you’re scared to face the definite disgust and judgement in his them, so you don’t look at him when lift your bag across your shoulder. "I’m sorry, I...I need to go.”

ACT IV | LOVE IS NOT OVER

Jungkook hasn't seen you since last night. You never showed up at the meeting spot, never answered his calls or texts—never even once read the 68 of them.

He was certain you came, though—he checked in with Mrs. Yoon before boarding, but you were always good at hiding, and Jungkook was always an impatient seeker. The whole process of arriving, checking into the hotel, and splitting into groups was a whole blur that ended in him never finding you. After spending hours exploring the designated routes through antique shops, cute cafes, pretty sceneries, and meadows with his friends, he started to fear that you didn't come after all—that Mrs. Yoon had made a mistake.

Surely, he would've bumped into you at least once through the whole trip. And where the fuck was Mr. Kim? Jeju was supposed to be the pinnacle of his highschool experience. He’d be elated with the giddiness of being out with his friends, kissed with the gift of delicious freedom. But it was 7:46 PM now, and even when he overlooked the vast beach dipped with sunset's entrancing glow, he felt anything but. Not when Seokjin cracked his lame dad jokes, nor when Eunha got him to bike through scenic trails.

Jungkook sighed as the strawberry milk clattered to the bottom of the vending machine. He spotted it tucked away from the corner of the museum his group wandered into. He excused himself, relieved that their chaperone actually trusted him to be by himself. He needed the space.

He poked the straw through the carton, leaning against the cold metal as his eyes gazed over the glistening waves. He hated you. Always leaving him like this, always making him restless and unsure.

It was when he looked for the moon in the dusk sky that he noticed a familiar silhouette amidst the shore. It wavered with the wind, and Jungkook instantly felt his scorn. The man's jeweled hand was holding a cigarette between two fingers, overlooking the ocean with distant eyes.

Fuck the sand, fuck his expensive shoes, fuck everything. Jungkook doesn't know when he starts running, but he doesn't stop.

It all happened so past—the sun would have missed it if not for the perfect view she had just over the excited ripples of the ocean. When Taehyung noticed his presence, it was already too late. Jungkook had grabbed his collar, and without a second of hesitance, punched him across his face. Taehyung fell into the sand with a grunt, cursing loudly. “What the fuck?!” He turned to his perpetrator, his glare quickly diminishing into pure shock to see his own student right in front of him, eyes poisoned with resentment and hatred.

Taehyung's emotions came whirling at him all at once. The confusion, then the anger, the urge to scream at him and punch him until he was left bleeding on the shore—then the mediating side of him, understanding that he'd done more than enough to get his ass fired, why the fuck would he...?—then the realization. He sighs roughly, shaking his head as he stands. He isn't up for long though, as Jungkook takes another swing. Taehyung’s cheeks scream with stinging pain, but Jungkook’s on top of him, and he doesn’t stop.

"You fucking bitch!" Jungkook seethed, barely feeling his fist continuously bury into Taehyung’s face. He knew. He knew how much you loved him, he knew Taehyung helped you. He knew you'd get angry, maybe even hate him for the rest of his life for this—But maybe that's why he couldn't control himself. He didn't care if you thought Taehyung was some angel. To him, Taehyung was just a disgusting predator who took advantage of your situation, and deep down, maybe it was more for a selfish reason. Taehyung was a man who touched you, who had you—who wasn’t him. "You disgusting fuck. Don't ever fucking touch y/n again, you hear me?!" Another hit, but Jungkook is too blinded with anger to realize the scary amount of blood drooling down his nose and lips, from the cuts of his cheeks. "I know," Taehyung rasps.

"If you know then why did you do it?! You’re a fucking creep, you’re disgusting.”

"I know," another hit, and blood stains his shirt. Taehyung curses and grabs Jungkook's fist before he can throw another punch, pushing him into the sand. "You dick, I swear to god, I swear to fucking god I'll fucking kill you." Jungkook thrashes under Taehyung, but the teacher buries both his wrists into the ground, his weight holding the younger boy down.

“Sh-Shit, Look, I know how you must feel about me, and I know I deserve this, but I would much rather avoid being seen like this so I'm going to say this quick and you're going to listen."

"Fuck you," Jungkook growls, glaring at the man on top of him. His eyes were unreadable, almost enigmatic, and Jungkook hated every unwavering speckle of deep brown in it.

"I don't regret it," Taehyung disregards him. "I liked her—y/n—and no matter what you think of me, that stands true. You must like her too, she told me about you some nights. I have to admit, hearing about another boy when she's laying in my own bed wasn't very pleasant for me, but you made her happy. You mean a lot to her," Jungkook shut his eyes tightly, cursing as he tried to get the image of Taehyung holding you in his arms out of his mind. "I know you don't think I care about her, but I do, so just fucking listen for a second okay? I know i'm no good for her, but you aren't either. You're too immature, we both know y/n deserves way more. See where you are now? Right under me when you could be there for her? Have you even seen her today? Have you asked her how she's been?"

"What... what the fuck are you saying."

Taehyung sighs, and stumbles back to stand, wincing as the harsh winds slap his bloodied face. He nimbly looks for his cigarette, and before he lights it, Jungkook grabs his lighter. "I said what the fuck do you mean?!"

"I ended it with her," Taehyung glares at him, his voice firm, cold as he snatches the lighter back. Jungkook feels his heart drop. “You...what?"

There's silence, and when the man turns to look at the sun drowning into the ocean’s abyss, he lights the cigarette, "the fireworks are starting soon." Jungkook's eyes widens. Before he knows it, he's already running.

You’ve always loved the fireworks.

His footsteps that were submerged into sand were now padding against the concrete of the sidewalk, his heart pounding in his ears. A few cars must have honked at him here and there as he ran through the streets, unknowing of his surrounding because all he can think of his getting to his destination—you. He frantically reaches for his phone, panting.

You

JK : where are you?

my love : my room

my love : 613, 7th floor

JK : on my way.

ACT V. | HOLD ME TIGHT

At least the fireworks were pretty.

Your eyelids drooped, puffed with drowsy red as you watched the sparkling scene on the balcony of the hotel. Evening's cold breeze teased your bare legs, dancing with the delicate ends of your black, satin nightgown. You were hugging yourself yourself, leaning against the cold railings as sparks of vivid red shatter into memories tainted with heartbreak. The red silk sheets that you grasped tightly beneath you. The red lingerie that Taehyung slid off your skin. The red wine he poured into the pan when you told him you were hungry. You liked watching him the most, you thought as he stood in front of the stove, his eyes trained on the steak. You liked watching him unbutton his top, talk about his day, how he let out loud laughter whenever a funny story would come up. You loved when he unveiled himself for you, when he'd strip off his enigmatic persona bare and let you peer into his soul.

But that's all you ever did, you guessed, all you ever could do. You watched him when he smiled down at you, his cold fingertips brushing your waist, and you watched him as he left.

It must've been 4 minutes into the firework show when you heard the doorbell ring. Sighing, you leave the balcony as yellow ignites the night sky. You open the door to Jungkook, his chest heaving up and down, his hair tousled by wind, beads of sweat sticking to his neck.

When he doesn't say anything, and neither do you, you step aside to let him in. You wonder if he was still angry about last night, how he'd react when you tell him—but with the way he looked down at you, tender eyes dawned with sadness, you already understand you don’t have to. "I know," Jungkook steps closer, pulling you into a hug. His warmth embraces you as darkness does when the door clicks shut. "What happened, I know."

You sighed, closing your eyes. The fireworks sounded so distant compared to his heartbeat. Jungkook must've ran for you, you thought as your buried your face into his chest. Of course he would, he always has. Maybe that certainty is what intoxicates you to murmur, "I'll accept it."

"What?"

"What you proposed last night, I'll accept it," you say calmly, quietly. You looked up at him with wavering eyes, "please...I need you right now."

Jungkook's heart practically lurched out of his chest. He knew he should take a step back, tell you that you'd end up regretting it and to take it back before it was too late. He knew, but the devil on his shoulder was much more insistent than his angel, and maybe... maybe his angel wanted it too—so fuck it all.

Jungkook took your lips in a magnetic dance, drawing you closer into him with one hand on your lower back and the other behind your head.

God, you were so lovely. How your head lolled for him, soft, plush lips jarred open. Jungkook has always been good at controlling himself when it came to you, but when he heard the slightest whimper escape your trembling lips, he felt he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

He didn't seek for permission to suck your lower lip, didn’t even seek permission to slide his tongue inside your lovely little mouth when you gasped. He held your chin, deepening the kiss. More, more, more—he wanted more of you. He wanted to explore your body, wanted to make your breath tremble, wanted to find out what you liked and disliked under bedsheets. Jungkook wanted to know you better than anyone else had. He wanted you, needed you.

“Kook,” You whimper into him as he pushes you against the wall, holding your thigh up. He grinds his bulge against your clothed cunt, sending wild tremors along your nerves. “F-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He takes your other thigh, and you yelp as he lifts you up. Your surprise quickly washes out with haze when he buries his thick tent further into you. You let out a moan, wrapping your legs around his torso. “I can make you feel even better.”

The explosions of the fireworks are blurred with the palpitations of your heart as Jungkook lays you on the bed, his lips immediately finding home in yours. "Love how you sound for me, love," Jungkook’s wet, needy kisses trail down your neck...to your collarbones...to your breast. “So pretty like this, always so pretty,” his fingers ghost your sensitive nipples, perked from evening's cold. He doesn't waste any time to take one nipple into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other.

His cold hand trails down your stomach, finally pressing it down your soaked underwear. He smirks, feeling the soaked outline of your pussy lips. “Already so wet for me baby? How cute."

His plush lips leave your nipple with a pop, instead latching onto the crook of your neck. Your eyes go wide when you realize what he's about to do. “Wait, d-don’t! Not th—ah.” He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence, swiftly sliding your underwear out of the way before pressing a hard thumb over your clit. “Don't deny me, y/n,” His voice is low over your whiny moans. He sucks on the supple of your skin as he slides one, slender finger into you, smoothly drawing it in and out while he rolls your little bud with his other. “Please, need to show everyone that you’re mine,” he murmurs, licking his work, perfectly tinged with a pretty pink . “Besides...” he trails, taking note of your arousal dripping down his wrists. “You love this, don’t you?”

“N-No..! I...ah, K-Kook, Kookie..!” Your voice fails you, moans escaping from your trembling lips. “Jungkook s-stop..!” Jungkook frowns against your skin, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze. “Why not?” His eyes are dark. You try to fight the muddle of your mind as his slow, tentative fingers continue to work on your cunt. “B-Because...because student c-council. It's inappropriate, and your friends will ask, a-and... mm!—“

“Taehyung?” Jungkook says bitterly, but you’re too indulged with the knot in your stomach. You moan loudly, your hands finding anchor wrapped around his biceps. “I'm sure you don’t want Taehyung to see, do you?” Jungkook's pace is furious now, and you barely make out his words through the thick fog of your mind. You feel so close. “Don’t want him to know that you're with me, hm? That i’m finger fucking you into my dumb whore."

His indecent words paint a wild blush on your cheeks. You never knew Jungkook could be like this, could be so mean.

"You know what I think..."

Jungkook lowers himself down between your sweaty thighs, quivering with painful pleasure. "''Think my dumb babygirl wants me to clean her messy little pussy up. Would you like that, love?"

"Y-Yeah," you moan, desperately bucking your hips up, "p-please eat me out, Kook."

"Needy girl," Jungkook lets out a sigh, his pants tightening around his painful hard on. You were so pretty like this, Jungkook swore he could cum just by watching you.

You almost cry when he pulls his fingers away, instead squeezing around your squishy hips. You do cry, though, when he gives your pussy a tantalizing lick, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Knew my baby girl would taste so sweet," he groans. His tongue circles around your throbbing bud, sucking on it.

"Fuck! K-Kook, I-I can't," you wail, tears falling down your cheeks. Jungkook only flutters his eyes open, watching you with heated eyes as his tongue works on your wet cunt.

"Please, g-gonna cum, please!" Your back arches. Jungkook's hands the only thing anchoring you down.

"Then cum, baby, cum for me." Jungkok's voice is tender, coaxing like warm honey. With his encouragement, your dripping cunt spasms, unfurling your cream all over him. "That's my girl," His attentive tongue takes your sweet release, the embarrassing sound of slurping clouding your brain.

"You were so good for me, baby," He cooes, planting one final kiss on your quivering bud. Your cheeks tinge with a shy pink.

He lifts himself up, carefully laying over you so his forehead is pressed against yours. His eyes search yours under the veil of the moonlight. The fireworks must've stopped along the way, your heavy breaths filling the quiet room. "Tired, love?" Jungkook whispers, and you nod timidly, reaching your arms out to hug him.

Your skin is sticky with sweat like melting ice cream on hot summer days, but Jungkook adores his body pressed against yours. His fingers squeeze your smooth waist, placing gentle kisses on your neck, up your jaw, capturing your lips once more in a slow dance. A thin string line of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls back, and he breaks it off with a gentle graze across your wet lips.

"Think you can continue for me, baby?" Jungkook asks soothingly. "It's okay if you can't, of course. Must've been such a long day for you."

You shake your head, your hand lightly tracing the outline of the small scar on his cheek. You still remember the day he fell off his bicycle, somehow managing to tumble down the hill all the way to the train tracks. It must've been the first time you ever saw him cry.

"I want to."

"Are you sure?" His eyebrows perk up. "Because we really don't have to. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to please me. I know you took my offer, but if you aren't ready or comfortable, nothing has to happen. Believe it or not, pleasuring you already makes me feel euphoric." His words have you melt, gentle as a sweet night's lullaby.

"But I want us to feel good together," you say softly. "Please take me, Kookie. I want you." Jungkook's eyes widen, faint pink blooming on his cheeks, and you watch the stars in his eyes grow brighter with your shy gaze. He lets out a small chuckle, "god, you really don't know what you do to me, y/n."

He places a gentle peck on your lips one last time before rising to his knees, discarding his clothes. You're quick to slip off your nightdress and underwear, and you patiently admire Jungkook's toned physique as he worked to unbuckle his belt. Even the moon was enamored with him, tracing its luminous glow from his broad shoulders to his biceps, wrapping around his slim waist.

Your breath hitches when his dick springs out right in front of you, thick and swollen, oozing pre cum. Jungkook watches you with heated eyes, his hand grazing his dick. "Wow," you breathe, sitting up and replacing his hand with yours. Jungkook's hisses when you stroke his cock, doe eyed to his length that throbbed with neglect. "You're so pretty, Kookie. You're pretty everywhere..."

"I should be the one who's telling you that, darling," he lets out a shaky breath through his smile, his hand finding your cheek. "Now, i’d love for that lovely little mouth of yours to suck my cock, but I feel like i'm gonna explode any minute now, and i'd like to do so inside of you," he chuckles when a furious blush takes your cheeks. You let him push you down, positioning himself in between your legs. He takes his pulsating cock in his hands, sliding his glistening head over your cunt. "Would you like that baby? Want me to cum in this cute little pussy? Wanna take Kook's cum like a good girl?" You feel yourself shy from his words, whimpering, "y-yes please, Kookie."

"Tell me how much you want it, baby."

"S-So bad. Kookie p-please, want you to fill me up."

"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckled, a cocky smirk on his lips that made you tremble. "Think your tiny pussy can even take my cock?"

"Y-Yes, m'pussy wants your cock, p-please Kook!"

"Dirty girl, love it when you beg for me," he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your swelling entrance, already having you see stars by the time he fills you up whole. "You okay?" Jungkook breathes out, his forehead falling against yours. You nodded timidly, "j-just need a little time to adjust."

"Okay, baby, tell me when you're ready." He pecks your nose, letting out a shaky sigh as your walls clench around him. When you do, Jungkook takes your knees, pushing them on either side of you so your legs are spread out wide for him.

He pulls out his whole cock so he could see the flush tip of his cock before plunging back into you. You moan loudly to his even pace, bottoming you out with every thrust.

"F-fuck, been wishing for this forever. Just want to punish this pussy for making me wait for this long."

Harsh skin to skin contact and the squelch of your juices mixing together fills your fuzzy mind. You felt so full, you could practically feel him in your belly. "Shit, you're practically swallowing me. You like this, don't you?"

"Y-yeah, love your cock, Kookie," you moan, his pace growing faster and more unforgiving. "I'm never letting you go after this, fuck y/n. You're mine, you’re so fucking mine. Say it, say you're mine, p-please."

"Yours," you whimper, feeling the familiar tingling ecstasy overwhelm your stomach. "O-Only yours, Kookie."

"That's right, baby, open your mouth." You didn't know exactly why, but you didn't question him. He could tell you to do absolutely anything right now and you'd do it. Your wet lips jar open for him, and Jungkook spits in your mouth, sending a wave of tremor through your body. "Swallow."

You listen, obediently swallowing. "That's my girl."

"Kookie, kookie...m'gonna cum!"

"Again baby? You’re so easy, barely have to do anything and you're spilling." You moan to his words, thrusting in and out of you in a hypnotic pace. "Go on then, baby. Cum for me, make a mess over my balls."

Your whole body tenses, feeling the overwhelming wave wash over you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you release around him the second time. "Good girl, baby, so good for me, fuck," Jungkook hisses to your tightening walls squeezing around him, driving himself into your belly until he pours all his cum deep inside of you.

You practically drooled, his load coming out in spurts of thick cream. When he pulls out, your pussy twitches, his cum oozing out. He falls onto your chest, and your heavy pants fill the room.

After awhile, Jungkook lazily pulls you to lay over him. "Okay, baby?"

"Mm," you murmur into his sweaty chest, trying to recollect your breath. You open your mouth to thank him, but a loud explosion takes your voice. In a second, waves of yellow wash the room, then blue, then purple. Your tiredness subdues into drowsy awe. You sit up and Jungkook does too, positioning you on his lap. "I think this is the second show. Timing is fitting don't you think?"

You giggle, and Jungkook sees daylight in your eyes. "Too fitting. I'm starting to think that this was all part of some big plan."

Jungkook rolls his eyes, laughing as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "Silly girl, of course it is." You look at him quizzically. "We're soulmates aren't we? The universe is just celebrating us."

You smile, sighing as you lean into his chest. "Whatever you say, my soulmate." Jungkook's eyes widen. He felt twelve again, dumbstruck euphoria overwhelming his love for you any time you called him yours. His shock settles into a soft smile, holding you in his arms while you watch the fireworks. It takes him awhile to realize your eyes are closed though.

"Sleepy, love? Thought you loved the fireworks."

"I do," you giggle, pushing him down onto the soft mattress. You snuggle into his chest. "Just listening to your heartbeat."

Jungkook blushes. He was going to urge you to clean up, but with you looking so cozy on top of him, he knew you'd much rather rest. He sighs lovingly, stroking your hair. He hasn't felt this happy in awhile. "About your payment, I’ll wire $800 just for tomorrow, but we’ll officially talk about the—"

“Shhhh!” You grumble, burying your head further into him. “Don’t wanna talk about money right now, just let me be with you.”

Jungkook blinks, and you look up to him with a pout. Purple lights up the seoul's night sky, casting an soft glow on Jungkook’s face. He chuckles, thumb brushing your cheeks.

"Needy girl.”

a/n : wooooo this took the longest time to write. its pretty bulky so whoevers got to this point i love you sosososo and i hope you enjoyed my work ! feedback is welcome and super appreciated, reading comments really do make my day <3 i was thinking of making a sequel/continuation for this but im not so sure ,, we'll see. anyways, i hope you have a lovely day my loves ! stay hydrated and healthy, i hope you eat good food today. make sure to take care of yourself too !

#jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts jk #bangtan #bangtan boys #jungkook scenarios #jungkook friends to lovers #kim taehyung

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kdyism · 3 years

Text

— third times the charm

pairing. johnny x reader

genre. highschool friends-to-lovers, unrequited for johnson, fluff

wc. 1.8K / warn. non

synopsis. when he first saw her, he was sure that she was going to be fun to play with. he didn’t have time for sports or leisure, so he took his chance with her. He purposely made life harder for her because he knew she would come running to him, even if it was to yell at him. it was the only way for him to have her attention. but when he realized that he was falling, he stopped. he avoided every place he knew he’d see her at. he cut off ties with her friends and tried to forget her. only it worked for so long until you came running into his arms, tears running down your cheek telling him that your dad had passed away.

OR johnny asked you out twice and you only had to ask him once.

REPOSTED FROM @sweetlyjaem-archive

12 MAY 2013

Johnny groaned into his pillow flapping his legs in annoyance. He was tired. He was sick and tired of waiting for you to call him. It’s been months since you disappeared saying you’ll call him after his graduation. No longer a high school student, he couldn’t just walk into school searching for you. You moved away without telling him and he needed to find you.

Springing up from his bed, he grabbed a coat and ran to the only place he knew would help him find you. If you were gonna disappear from his life, he wanted you to at least now his feelings so he wouldn’t regret it.

“Sooyoung-ah! I need your help!” he called standing in front of her gate, banging his fist against the gate. He heard her dog barking as she tumbled out hitting the gate before she opened it.

“Suh?” She leaned against the gate frame, “Why are you here?

"Do you know where she lives?”

She scoffed at him, nodding her head as she leads him into her living area. Planted on the floor in front of the tv, you slurped on ramyeon and cried, “Soo-ah! They killed him!”

Snapping your neck towards their direction, your eyes fell on the tallboy who came scurrying down to his knees beside you. He came close to your body and took hold of your face between his hands. His eyes were glossy and frowning, “Where did you go? Why didn’t you answer my calls and texts?? Why did you move without telling me??”

Stunt at his closeness, your face flushed lightly and butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “My.. My line was cut.”

“And?”

“I didn’t have enough money to pay the rent.” you held your breath when he leaned against your shoulder. Wet tears fell on it as you noticed his body shake a bit.

“I thought you left somewhere far.”

“Why would I do that, Johnny?” you rubbed his back asking.

He sat up leaning close to your face. Forehead touching, you felt his warm breath on your lips, “Let’s date.”

Blinking at him, you pushed him away from you. “What are you saying, Suh?”

“Y/N, I like you. I have ever since we first met. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“No, Johnny, you’re not thinking straight.”

“I’ll wait.”

Taking in a deep breath, you asked, “How long will you be waiting?”

“For as long as it takes you to accept that you like me too.”

24 December 2017

After getting into college and interning at some tech company, Johnny visited his hometown way lesser then he hoped he would. It got hard making time for vacation even for just a week. Winter break and summer break were taken by IT camps and family, meeting you got hard.

First year, he was keen on keeping you as close he could but he didn’t think that he’d go to college hours away.

Second year, he went back only to find out that you moved to the city for college which was farther from him. He met you for a split moment at Soonyoung’s Christmas party before he had to leave cause he had to meet his parents.

Third year, he didn’t meet you at all.

Currently, Fourth and final year, he was on winter break before finals and preparing to move back to his hometown. Living near his parents was the best choice. He had a job waiting, a place ready for him to live in, family near by and you hopefully.

“Are you sure she is moving back?” He asked, laying back on the concrete beside Sooyoung. The cars passed by, lamp-post flickering and the sky was a mighty dark blue sprinkled with gold stars.

“Her brother needs her. She couldn’t stay there while he is here.”

“How did they manage two years apart?” He turned towards her and sat up. “Did he move too?”

Sooyoung laughed at him with a smirk, “Her brother was living with you parents, stupid.”

“WHAT??” His jaw dropped, as he springed up from the concrete. “See you later!”

Watching him running, she checked the time and said to herself, “She is probably already here.”

Wind pushed against him, he ran and ran as fast as he could to his parents house. Reaching his childhood neighbourhood, he spotted a truck outside his compound building and rocketed up stairs with the aid his long legs.

At front of his parents apartment, he saw you smiling at them with your arms around his mother. Your brother, laughed at whatever his father said, turned towards him. “Oh hyung?”

Tilting your head his way, your eyes widened. Your breath hitched when he came tumbling closer to you, wrapping his arms around your body.

“You’re here” he whispered into your hair. “I missed you so much. I am so glad you came back..”

Pulling away, he gave his parents stank eyes before scowling at them, “How come I didn’t know he was living here??”

Giving him an awkward laugh, you placed your hand on his chest, “I told them not to tell you..”

His heart clenched a little at your action. “Why?”

“I.. I don’t know..”

He pulled your eyes to his and smiled softly, “Can I take you somewhere?”

Blinking, you turned to your brother and asked, “Can you get to our new apartment alone?”

Johnny’s mother chuckled waving her hands in front of your face, “We will take him, don’t worry dear! Please fix our poor Johnny! He is a mess thinking about you!”

“Mom!” He scoffed, pulling you by your wrist away from his parent’s apartment. His heart hammered in his chest having you so close to him yet he couldn’t hold you and kiss you for you weren’t his. Not yet, he thought.

Biting his lips, hands wrapped around yours. He checked a box of his bucket list when he felt your hand fit perfectly in his. Your hands were not as soft as he imagined but it made sense, you worked hard to live. Still, it made his chest feel breathless.

The Christmas sentiments was high. Twinkle lights and freshly baked bread was the aesthetic of the city. The little outdoor restaurant Johnny chose bleeded Christmas with its decoration and menu. Couples spread the entire area made your heart flutter. It felt as if you and his were an item. As in boyfriend, girlfriend. But liking Johnny didn’t seem fair to you nor did him liking you. You didn’t know each other to say, ‘I like you’, and for it to mean all of you.

“Johnny?” you stopped mixing your coffee abruptly, locking eyes with him. “Are you gonna ask me out again?”

“Yeah, i am planning on it..” he trailed off, pink clouds painting themselves on his cheeks. “Will you go out with me?”

“I am sorry..”

“It’s okay… i didn’t expect anything.” But you saw a flash of sadness in his eyes before he looked at you with a soft smile. “I’ll still wait.”

14 March 2019

The morning started great. You woke up extra early to prepare the oven for some baking and the weather was just so beautiful which motivated you ever so subtly.

Living at your birthplace felt amazing. The many years you lived there didn’t seem to take the kick out of living there. Everything was still fun and new. Sooyoung was married now with a one-year-old, a soldier lost too soon. Your brother graduated and moved to the city for college and you stayed behind working in the primary school you went to as a kid.

Ever since Christmas of 2017, Johnny spent more time around you. He was still kind and showered you with affection. The perks of living back home was having him there too.

At first, Johnny made you feel uncomfortable, a smidge. You couldn’t be around him without your heart racing and thinking about having him close to you but you put up a wall. You made the rule of getting to know each other first. You didn’t want to break it first.

Later, Johnny became some form of home. His family invited you and your brother for almost every family trip and event. He came over whenever you felt sad. He took care of you whenever you were hurt. He helped with taking care of your brother and even with enrolling him into college. He acted as a guardian for your brother and as a safe haven for you to run back to whenever you needed to.

“Butter, vanilla essence, egg,” you listed off unconsciously pouring them into a mixing bowl. “Should I shape them?” you asked yourself mixing the ingredients.

An hour before getting to work, washed up and checked on the oven making sure your third batch of cookies were okay. “Beautiful day for beautiful reasons” you sighed, gazing out the window with your eyes trained on a certain tall male who got off his car.

Just as you tucked the cookies properly into the tupperware, you heard knocking from your door. Blinking, your heart picked up a little pace bit by bit. It felt as if your heart was gonna jump out of your ribs leaving you breathless in result. Taking a deep breath, you walked to the door and opened it.

Your eyes met with Johnny’s. A tender smile was itched on his face every time you saw him. Taking a leap of courage, you tiptoed wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him down. Clenching your eyes shut, your lips finally touched his.

His lips pulled you in as he found a home for his hands at your waist. He pulled you closer with a sense of urgency as if you’d disappear if he let you go from his hold. He sighed into the kiss as you parted from him only for him to lean in for another kiss and again and again till he needed to stop for a breather.

Placing his forehead against yours, he opened his eyes to catch yours already staring up at him with a gentle softness.

“I like you, Johnny.” You whispered with a shy smile.

His face flushed redder than it already was and you were pretty sure you mirrored his state right now too.

Leaning down gently, his breath fell on your lips when he breathed out, “I love you.” Before placing under kiss on your lips, dragging you further inside your apartment.

“I think I love you, Johnny.”

©KDYISM, 2021 :: REPOSTED FROM SWEETLYJAEM

#cznnet #nct-writers #seo johnny x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #johnny x reader #johnny imagines #johnny fluff

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bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Takes one to know one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

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

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

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

"How could I forget that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm, sure you were."

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

"Alright, sure, why not?"

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

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

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you asleep?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright, I'm down."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go ahead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, you're the only one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

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

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

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

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

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

"There's lots of things-"

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

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

"I thought you'd never ask."

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

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

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

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

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

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

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

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

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

"Nope. I will not hear this."

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

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collecting-stories · 2 years

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Mykonos - Leo West

A/N: Just feeding my Leo West/Richard Madden obsession.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The crowd felt like it was moving with you, a few hundred people packed into the club like sardines, raving to the deafening sounds of the EDM music that was being pumped in through the speakers. On the phone, hours earlier, you’d told Leo to have a good show and promised you’d see him when he got back to Edinburgh on Wednesday, once this club tour finished out. He’d been bummed that you couldn’t make it to the last night, a lie that you convincingly told while standing in the bathroom at the airport waiting for your connecting flight to Mykonos.

When you got to the club that night, after checking into a hotel nearby, you’d almost thought about calling him and just telling him you were here. The hotel was all kids on spring break looking to get as blacked out as possible, pregaming in the lobby as you checked in, and the club looked like more of the same. You weren’t big on the club scene and much preferred getting to watch from backstage while your boyfriend DJ’ed, anything to avoid a crowd like this. But you also really liked to watch him and getting to see him in his element, with people raving around you and seemingly carrying you through a sea of moving limbs in black light to the front of the stage. You almost never got to see him from this angle and you were suddenly thankful that you hadn’t told him because the only thing better than seeing him come offstage beaming with pride was the look of pure shock turned to joy at catching sight of you right there in the front.

It’d been a party that you’d met Leo at, though not one he was DJing. Your friend’s boyfriend at the time was hosting a birthday bash for her and, being somewhat well connected, had invited some famous friends. All music industry people that made you feel horribly insecure but you’d muddled through and, in your drunkenness, giggled through introductions with Leo. His accent had sounded funny to your ears and he’d been a good sport, taking your jabs in earnest.

“Will you be in London long?” He’d asked, lingering in the corner of the kitchen with you, letting the rest of the party go on without him. He didn’t know your friend and he barely knew the boyfriend, had been tempted to say he couldn’t make it but now he found himself glad that he’d changed his mind.

“A few more days…” you had slowed your drinking to sips, regretting the shots you’d done earlier. “Then back to Edinburgh.”

“You’re living in Edinburgh?” He looked surprised but also pleased, his smile distracting you momentarily as you tried to work out the question he’d just asked you.

And somehow that had been it. He was getting ready to take some time off and going home to visit family and you were agreeing to meet up with some guy you’d just met in a city you didn’t quite know your way around yet. Leo had a way of making you feel like the crazy thing wasn’t so crazy though.

“Let me get you a cab?” He offered, helping you get your coat on at the end of the night. Your friend had just blown out the candles on her cake and she was busy hanging on her boyfriend’s arm while he bullshitted through a story about a trip to Aruba, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip out. You’d somehow managed to move from the kitchen to the hallway, still talking to Leo.

“Okay,” you agreed. You’d taken the train here and could take it back to your hotel room but you’d let him call you a cab if he wanted.

“I rent a place two streets over,” he supplied, trying to be casual but instead feeling like he sounded somewhat awkward. Why had he said that, why couldn’t he just agree to see you after the weekend, when you were both back in Edinburgh?

“Are you inviting me home?”

The taxi was warm and the rain outside seemed to glisten on the windows as you passed the usual turn for your hotel. Leo thought about telling you that he never did this sort of thing, bringing people home after a party or gig, but then it would just sound like a line that everyone else used and he decided against it. You were coming home with him, whether for just the night or longer, and he didn’t want to spoil any moment of it with lines and stupid cliches.

“I’ve got to go!” The excitement in his voice carried through the microphone in his hand as he looked out over the crowd, “I got someone waiting for me...you know how it is.” Screams sounded, deafening against your already sensitive ears and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face as he gave up the booth to the other DJ that’d been on earlier, coming to the edge of the stage to help you up.

There was a rush for a moment, as he grabbed your hands and the security guard at the edge of the stage helped lift you up onto the platform. A small surge felt like it shifted behind you, guiding you into Leo’s arms. He kissed you right there in front of everyone, another scream from the crowd at the obvious display of affection before he was pulling you off stage, breathing heavy with exhilaration.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it!” He shouted over the music, still too loud on the side of the stage.

You pulled him further into the back, the sound muffled in the too white hallway outside the backstage area, “Good surprise?” You asked, biting your lip to stop from smiling as you looked at him. Shows weren’t always your favorite but Leo after a show was. His cheeks were always slightly red from excitement, hair mussed from running his hands through it, the blond streak somehow more prominent. You even found the shine of his skin from sweat bizarrely attractive.

“Best surprise ever!” He confirmed, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into a hug, twirling around. You grabbed his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

A night had turned into a weekend and here you were, eight months later, flying to Mykonos for a guy. If it was your best friend, you would’ve been telling her that she was acting too desperate. And maybe you were but you didn’t even have it in you to care.

“Sorry to pull you off stage,” you started to say but he cut you off, kissing you for the first time in almost two weeks. He felt like he was flying, seeing you here in Mykonos. Leo was never one for surprises and you certainly weren’t someone who enjoyed surprising people but this was beyond any expectation he had and he hadn’t realized how much he missed you until he saw you here.

He finally pulled away, “don’t be sorry. God, I missed you so much.”

“I didn’t wanna wait for the weekend to be over to see you.” You admitted, “since you ran off stage...think they’ll mind us leaving altogether?”

“Let’s not wait to find out,” he grabbed your hand in his and pulled you to the back exit of the club.

#leo west imagine #leo west fanfic #leo west fanfiction #leo west fic #leo west x reader #leo west x y/n #leo west x you #ibiza love drunk imagine #ibiza love drunk fanfiction #ibiza love drunk fanfic #ibiza love drunk fic #collecting stories imagine

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gigilberry-wips · 2 years

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Hiccunzel holiday headcanons because my fandom bestie drop-kicked the idea into my head, tysm dearest 😂💖

- Between the two of them, Rapunzel would be more enthusiastic about snow, like she'd go running and leaping around in the first snow of winter at 5 in the morning. Hiccup would be the one who goes out with a mug of tea, stands there for a minute, goes "ah, snow", and shuffles back inside.

Rapunzel: "But aren't you from the north??"

Hiccup: "That's the point."

But Hiccup would also be the one to do one of those sweet, quiet show of love things, like he'd go out into the untouched snow right under their bedroom window, make footprints into the shape of a giant "I ♡ U", and then get back to whatever he'd been doing.

One time Rapunzel finally caught him in the act and recorded it to post online where she captioned it with "I love my husband so much"

- In their house the holidays would always signify funfetti pancakes, for some reason. It's the only time of year Hiccup's sweetness aversion vanishes and Rapunzel takes full advantage by making it a pancakes abomination weekend, where they both try to make the most gaudy, over-the-top pancake creations imaginable, like entire castles made of pancakes, whipped cream, and all the toppings. Hiccup deeply regrets this in the days after but that doesn't stop him from continuing tradition

- I feel like both of them would like holiday songs, which is exactly why both of them would try to annoy the other with surprise knock-off jingles that sound so bad and makes them go "how DARE you!" while laughing. They never know when the other will strike, and it becomes an unofficial competition.

- So👏🏾Much👏🏾Cuddling👏🏾

Because if one of the beloved headcanons is that Hiccup runs warm, then clearly Rapunzel gets cold easily and the seasonal struggle is her finding any way she can to warm up her icy toes

Many a cold morning starts with Rapunzel refusing to let go when Hiccup tries to get up, so he ends up puttering around the kitchen with Rapunzel still clinging to his back - yes, she's a morning person and yes she's perfectly awake, but she's too busy shmushing her face into Hiccup's shoulder and/or hair to bother using her legs

- Little gift giving gestures! They keep making little crafts every other day and gifting it to each other - Hiccup taking up his seasonal carving and making her little dolls and ornaments, and Rapunzel making those dolls little woven items, making him felt beanie baby animals, food in the shape of hearts, etc etc.

- The gift giving often ends up getting to the point where once the snow melts they have to do a spring cleaning haul and donate the items to yard sales because Too Much Stuff. Rapunzel, being someone who forms emotional bonds with inanimate objects, and Hiccup being the "but what if we'll need a matryoshka doll in the apocalypse" kind of lowkey horder, this breaks their collective hearts

- On that note, no hosting parties at their place because the house is full of nicknacks and it's a cleaning nightmare, and Toothless can and WILL cause mischief out of pure spite because he hates crowds. But they do make sure to go to other people's parties and bring food, gifts, and helping hands with them.

- They are the ones who often give their loved ones the gifts that're like "you will pass this down to your children, you grandchildren, and your great-grandchildren because it looks that impressive good god you two went ham"

- Family is a big thing for both of them, and their holiday calender is divided into two sections: Them Time and Family Time. They'd do their best to make sure they have plenty of time to spend together, but they dedicate an equal amount to visiting their friends and loved ones and spending time with them.

Being a reclusive introvert, this means Hiccup mentally preparing for it like he's going off to battle. Rapunzel knowing this and both of them sitting down at the kitchen table the weekend before the Big Huge Month to hash out the details - not all of them, bc little unpredictabilities are ok, but the important ones

- They'd definitely be that couple to plan holiday bookstore dates. They'd spend entire days visiting bookstores and spending hours reading, crafting, and cuddling in corners

- In contrast to this, i think both of them would also take part in more adventurous outings, too, like hiking and sledding and traveling - but really whatever involves exploring. And it surprises those who meet them that it's Hiccup who's more into it, while Rapunzel's just happy to spend time with him, meet new people, and go on these adventures

It's one of the big Them Time events on their calendar, and one of the ways they sometimes do this is through volunteering, especially Hiccup signing up for wildlife rescue and rehabilitation events thanks to his job

- Maybe it's me projecting but i feel like neither of them would care much for the religious aspects of the holidays and their household would be pretty secular, especially given that both come from different cultural backgrounds. Like, the mood would be livelier and they'd be more than happy to take part in whatever their friends and family are doing and will give each other presents just because, but there wouldn't be this fuss for a tree or wreaths or other strong indicators of "Christmas" in their house, unless it's either gifts from friends or a holiday themed item on sale - if the snowman screwdriver gets the job done, then that's what stays

- But also - holiday movie binging, because both of them are saps even if in different ways. For some reason this includes lord of the rings. Neither knows why, it just Does.

- Toothless always knows it's holiday time because that's when these two dress him up in little costumes and take pictures of him. They don't even do this for Halloween it always has to be for this time of year in particular, bc they make holiday greeting cards out of those pictures to send to all the people they know and they know way too many people and that's too many cards to buy dude 😭

- The day after Christmas they spend at home napping and eating nothing but leftovers. Why? Because in the two/three days leading up to big day, the second they walk into whichever house is hosting Rapunzel gets whisked away to help out with the cooking and baking. For literal days. By the time all the festivities are done it's enough for Rapunzel to no longer be able to person and Hiccup's social battery to go dormant, so they drag each other home with the many, many tupperwares given to them by grateful friends and relatives and have some much needed Quality Quiet Time.

However at exactly 8 pm sharp on the day after Christmas they go out and get discounted leftover apple pie and fried turkey sandwiches at this one place down the road, because that's somehow tradition too. The place also keeps making too many jars of holiday themed pickled mushrooms that they never sell out so they give what's left of their stock to these two and Hiccup spends the rest of winter eating them out of the jar like a lawless heathen

#hiccunzel #rotbtd #rotbtfd #rise of the brave tangled dragons #rise of the brave tangled frozen dragons #tbf #the big four #hiccup httyd #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #hiccup haddock #hiccup how to train your dragon #how to train your dragon #httyd #rapunzel #rapunzel's tangled adventure

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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

Text

enough to drive a man mad

~7k geraskier fake dating, because that is what this fandom needs. read on ao3 here!

Jaskier smells anxious. He reeked of apprehension all of yesterday, not to mention the fact that he hasn’t been able to sit still or stop tapping his foot on the wooden floorboards this morning.

It’s grating on Geralt’s last nerve.

“What, Jaskier?” he finally growls.

Jaskier jumps, almost falling out of his chair from where he sits tapping his quill idly in his notebook.

“What?”

“What has you so worked up?”

Jaskier looks Geralt in the eyes before glancing away again. He clears his throat. “Nothing.”

Geralt grunts.

“Oh, don’t sound so unconvinced,” Jaskier complains.

Geralt rolls his eyes, turning his back to Jaskier to finish settling all of his things into his pack. He wraps the glass jars carefully and tucks them between Jaskier’s shirts, so they don’t break. “If nothing is wrong, you’re ready to go then, right?”

Jaskier grumbles, but he tucks his notebook away and gets to his feet.

They make it about three hours before Jaskier finally broaches the subject.

“So, Geralt,” he starts. “Dear friend of mine.”

Geralt doesn’t even bother to look back at him. Nothing good can come with this as a conversation starter.

“Have I ever told you about my parents?”

“No.”

Jaskier sighs. “I suppose not. Well, they’ve written to me. They want me to visit.”

Geralt thinks back to the letter an innkeeper had handed to Jaskier a few weeks ago, the one that made him eerily quiet the rest of the night and that he had clammed up about when Geralt questioned him. Jaskier was perky and practically completely back to normal the next morning, so Geralt had almost forgotten about it. Apparently, Jaskier had not done the same.

“Hmm.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Dreadfully inconvenient for you. What will you do without your loyal companion?”

Geralt frowns. He hadn’t even thought about that, just registered the smell of unhappiness coming off of Jaskier at the thought of his parents. Jaskier is rather helpful, though. He’s never afraid to step in the middle of pay negotiations, inevitably getting Geralt more coin, and he’s certain Jaskier has stopped them from getting kicked out of at least three towns after Geralt had stumbled back to the inn covered in viscera.

“Do you want to visit them?”

Jaskier trips over his feet, and Geralt dutifully looks away, pretending not to have noticed. “Not particularly. But I have to.”

Geralt won’t pretend to understand how a typical human family works, so he just accepts Jaskier’s words at face value. He’s never felt obliged to return to Kaer Morhen every winter; it’s something he looks forward to—to seeing his patchwork family. But Jaskier deliberately never speaks of his family, and gets twitchy every time anyone brings them up, so Geralt had accepted it as one of Jaskier’s many quirks and moved on.

“Hmm. Well, I can travel with you there, at least. I’m sure there will be contracts in the area somewhere.”

Jaskier flushes red. “I was...I was actually hoping you would come with me.”

“What? I’m sure that’s not what your parents had in mind when they wanted you to visit. They wouldn’t want to meet me .”

“Well, they said it’s unbecoming for someone of my age to be a bachelor. And, so I. I, um.” Jaskier scratches the back of his neck. “I told them I wasn��t. And I maybe sort of perhaps insinuated we were together.”

Geralt can feel a stress headache brewing.

Marilla looks down at the letter in shock.

Dear Mother,

I fear I am not quite as much of a bachelor as you suppose. Have you heard any of my songs? I have gone and fallen head first into my muse. Typical, foolish me, but I’ve never been happier. We’ll visit soon.

Julian

She doesn’t like to think about Julian’s songs, about how he couldn’t even keep the name she had given him. She thrusts the letter to her husband. “He’s coming to visit,” she says in disbelief. “When’s the last time we saw him?”

Ethbert considers this as he reads the letter. “At least five years.”

“And I can’t believe he hasn’t spoken of this ‘muse’ any sooner. I’m not sure I believe him.”

Ethbert gave Marilla a placating smile. “He’s probably just ashamed he hasn’t found himself a wife yet. We’ll find out when he comes, doubtless with an excuse about where his beloved is.”

Marilla sniffs. “You’re right.”

Nell looks down at the scene in the kitchen with wide eyes from her spot crouched down between the banisters at the top of the stairs. Her brother? With a wife? She could scarcely imagine it. She thinks back to the last time Julian was here, the way he had boasted to her about his conquests for hours, away from the prying ears of their parents.

Well, surely if he had someone, he’d have talked about her in his songs. She resolves to get her hands on some of his music. She’ll solve this mystery before Julian even gets here.

“The first thing to know is that they’re awful,” Jaskier says, ticking down one of his fingers as he walks along beside Roach, seemingly uncaring of the dust that’s drifting up from her hooves and onto his doublet. “Well, except for my sister. Be nice to my sister, please, Geralt.”

“I’m nice to everyone.”

Jaskier stifles a laugh. “Mm. Be extra nice to her, then.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“You need to loosen up, too. They’re never going to think we’re together when you look all...constipated like that.”

Geralt huffs.

“You’re lucky opposites attract,” Jaskier says, before dragging a hand down his face. “This is never going to work, is it?”

Nell squints at the lyrics spread out before her. This doesn’t sound very romantic to her at all. Maybe a breakup song? She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss , Nell hums. She can’t help but notice there’s three different people the song is talking about, though. Odd. She shakes her head and moves onto the next song.

This one is just a ditty, so Nell turns the page to see a song about the witcher Jaskier travels with. And then another, and another. Is he all Julian writes about? She expected to see love songs, not this nonsense. She goes through more of his catalogue, briefly regretting spending her allowance on the songbook, but she supposes it supports her brother, after all.

She’ll just have to see what she can wheedle out of him while he’s here.

Finally, after flipping through no less than four more songs about the witcher, she lands on one titled “The Eternal Flame.”

Interesting.

Around your house, now white from frost

Sparkles ice on pond and marsh

Your longing eyes grieve what is lost

But naught can change this parting harsh

Spring will return, on the road the rain will fall

Hearts will be warmed by the heat of the sun

It must be thus, for fire still smolders in us all

An eternal fire, hope for each one

There, Nell can read some romance in. She rubs the ends of her hair together in thought. This one song certainly isn’t enough proof that Julian has actually found a wife. More like he’s still pining over some old flame. It doesn’t seem like he’s written very many good love songs at all.

Nell rolls her eyes, thinking back to all the raunchy songs in his catalogue. Typical.

There’s the squeak of the door opening downstairs, and Nell hastily slams the book shut and hides it under her mattress. She doesn’t want Julian seeing and getting a bigger head, after all.

She straightens her dress and runs down the steps, eager to see if Julian’s by himself, which is her guess. She comes to a skidding halt when she sees who is with him.

Oh.

She supposes he does write love songs, after all.

Geralt shifts uncomfortably from the scrutiny Jaskier’s family is giving him. He wraps an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder, hoping he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels. He looks over to Jaskier for help, and Jaskier shrugs off his arm and takes Geralt by the hand, leading him forward to meet them.

“Mother, Father, this is Geralt. Nell, this is a very large, scary witcher who will eat you up if you don’t behave.”

Geralt frowns. He thought Jaskier told him to be extra nice to his sister?

Nell laughs, a delightful, tinkling thing that reminds him of Jaskier’s. “He’s going to like me better than you by the time he leaves.”

Geralt looks back to Jaskier, only to see him sticking his tongue out at her. Right. Their relationship is definitely more antagonistic than Jaskier had prepared him for, so Geralt is glad he had Lambert to prepare him for these things.

He’s not sure his interactions with Lambert would be appropriate to apply to Jaskier’s sister, though, so Geralt will let Jaskier handle the ribbing.

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt finally says. “Jaskier’s told me a lot about you.”

Which, of course, is a lie, but Geralt knows that’s the polite thing to say.

“He’s never even mentioned me, has he?”

When Geralt waffles, Nell sniffs dramatically and casts Jaskier a betrayed look.

Jaskier shoots that look right back to Geralt, and Geralt is so impossibly out of his depth right now. “Hmm.”

“Now look what you’ve done, you’ve made him regret agreeing to meet you in the first place!” Jaskier cries.

“That’s quite enough, Julian,” Jaskier’s mother cuts in, and—Julian?

He shoots Jaskier a puzzled look. Obviously, there was a little more he should have told Geralt before they came here.

“Well, I’m afraid we are absolutely knackered; we’ve been riding all day. I’m going to head upstairs…”

Geralt shoots him a look.

“I mean, we are going to head out to the stables and make sure that Geralt’s very polite mare is taken care of.”

“We have someone—”

“No, no, Geralt is very picky about who cares for his horse.”

With that, Jaskier drags Geralt out of the house and to the barn. “I thought the goal was for them to like me?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier snorts. “Gods, no. The goal is to have them believe that we’re in a relationship, and they would never believe I would choose anyone they actually liked .”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Geralt. It’ll be fine. Just stop acting like you’re terrified of me every time I touch you. Maybe we should practice.”

Jaskier gets a gleam in his eye as he darts a glance back to the house, and then his very warm mouth is on Geralt’s. Geralt’s surprised for a second before he relaxes and kisses Jaskier back. He’ll show Jaskier he’s not terrified of him. Geralt would scoff if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

Geralt brings one hand up to rest on Jaskier’s jaw and one to wind through his soft hair. Geralt strokes his thumb over Jaskier’s cheekbone, and Jaskier melts against him, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s waist and tugging him closer.

“What was that for?” Geralt says, trying to keep his breathing even after they pull away.

Jaskier peers around him and looks back up at the house. “Well, they were watching through the window. Figured we’d give them a show. Alas.”

Jaskier turns and heads to the stables. Geralt trails behind him, surreptitiously bringing a hand up to his medallion to make sure it’s not vibrating.

He is in way over his head.

Nell stares at them with wide eyes from her bedroom window. She had...not exactly doubted them when Julian showed up with his witcher in tow, but she hadn’t exactly believed them, either. Who could let Julian trail around after them for years and not get sick of him?

If she hadn’t witnessed them kissing with her own two eyes, she never would have believed it. She pulls the book out from under the mattress and looks at the songs again, this time with a more critical eye. She can’t believe she didn’t see it before. Especially “Her Sweet Kiss.” She’d never admit it to Julian, but she’s glad he won over whoever this her is. He looks happy, in a way that he never did while he was here.

Her mother calls for her, so Nell sighs and puts away the book. She runs down the stairs. “Yes?”

“I need help with supper.”

Nell sets the table, noting they’re using the fancy silverware, which is a surprise, because her mother has never taken a particular interest of what Julian thinks of her before this, so this is an interesting time to start. She’s sure their meal is going to be a very uncomfortable affair. Well, not for her, unless it starts to become painful to hold her laughter in.

She can’t wait.

She’s just finishing arranging the cutlery when her mother turns back to her. “Can you believe Julian? I knew witchers were for hire, but I didn’t think their services extended to...this.”

Nell barely holds back a snort.

Jaskier looks over to Geralt and suppresses a sigh. He had just planted a hand on Geralt’s thigh, and he’s sure his parents think that he just stabbed Geralt, from his reaction. He scoots his chair closer over to Geralt and drapes an arm over his shoulders. “Relax,” he whispers into Geralt’s ear.

Geralt does, marginally, but Jaskier can still see the doubt on his parent’s faces.

Jaskier’s father clears his throat. “So, Geralt, um. I suppose we know what you do, but, um. Um.”

“Honestly, haven’t you heard any of my songs? They are all the very true accounts of what Geralt gets up to,” Jaskier butts in.

Geralt takes a gulp of wine from his goblet to avoid commenting.

Jaskier notices, and elbows him in the ribs. “Geralt loves my songs, right?”

Jaskier’s parents are staring right at him, and it’s more than a little unnerving. “Right. They’re...very romantic.”

Jaskier’s grip around Geralt’s shoulders tightens. “Thank you, darling.”

Geralt is sure Vesemir once told him witchers can’t blush, but his face feels hot all of a sudden, and everyone is looking at him expectantly.

Geralt takes another drink.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Geralt’s been so nervous about meeting all of you. The poor dear is overwhelmed.”

Geralt shoots him a glare, before softening the look into something more akin to convincing Jaskier’s parents that they’re very happily together. Jaskier hastily bolts down the rest of his dinner before he drags Geralt up the stairs and to his room.

He shuts the door behind them, leaning against and tugging at his hair. “There’s no way they’re buying this,” he moans.

“I thought I was being rather convincing.”

The corner of Geralt’s lips twitch, so Jaskier hits him with a pillow. “You did not, you brute! Geralt if you’re doing this on purpose—”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt soothes. “I’m not. It’s just. Acting is not exactly on my list of talents.”

Jaskier crosses his arms and huffs. Geralt tugs him over to the bed and makes him sit down, plopping beside him. “What can I do?”

Jaskier throws his arm over his eyes and lays back, rather over dramatically, if you ask Geralt. “Nothi—Well, actually.”

Geralt does not like the sound of that. He was offering more to be nice than anything.

“We have to have sex.”

Geralt’s mouth goes dry. “What?”

Jaskier scoffs. “This is no time to act the blushing virgin, Geralt,” he says, before his hands are on Geralt’s clothes, tugging them and unbuttoning.

Geralt jerks back, but Jaskier is already done. “There. Nice and dishevelled.”

Geralt gapes at him for a moment, giving Jaskier the opportunity to muss his hair. Geralt growls.

“I know, I know. That took you hours to accomplish.”

Geralt catches his wrist. “Just, hold on a second. What are we doing?”

“We have to consummate my childhood bed, Geralt,” Jaskier says, completely seriously. “Or at least make my parents think we did.”

Jaskier starts moving his hips on the bed, making the headboard brush up against the wall with every gyration. “Mmm, fuck, Geralt, right there!” he cries.

“ Jaskier!” Geralt hisses, but Jaskier pays him no mind.

“You feel so good, darling!” He throws Geralt a wink, and Geralt tries not to combust.

Jaskier undoes three of the buttons of his doublet, revealing a thicket of chest hair. Geralt casts his eyes to the ceiling. Gods help him. “You know, you don’t have to be so stoic all the time, dear heart. You can let me hear you,” Jaskier says, pointedly prodding at Geralt.

Geralt shakes his head furiously. This is not what he agreed to.

Jaskier gives Geralt a put on sigh before clearing his throat quietly. “Oh, Jaskier,” he says in a deep voice.

“That doesn’t even sound like me,” Geralt whispers furiously.

Jaskier just arches an eyebrow, and Geralt knows that’s a challenge. He swings his leg over Jaskier, straddling him and trying to ignore both of their pounding hearts. It’s the heat of carrying out their plan, Geralt is sure, and not at all Jaskier’s proximity.

Geralt rocks the bed back and forth, making the headboard slam against the wall now.

Gearlt gives a half hearted moan, and Jaskier gives him a glare. “You’re making me sound like a terrible lover who’s left you horribly unfulfilled!” he hisses.

Geralt rolls his eyes and gives a more enthusiastic moan this time. Geralt begrudgingly keeps this up for a few more minutes before he grunts and clambers off of Jaskier. “A little quick to the finish line?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt shoots him a rude hand gesture.

Jaskier gasps in mock offense. “Why don’t you go get me a wash rag?” he suggests.

Geralt glares at him; this is taking the charade much too far, if you ask Geralt, but he follows Jaskier’s direction to the bathroom—where Jaskier’s mother is standing. Geralt suddenly becomes conscious of what a mess he must look like right now, thanks to Jaskier. “Hello again,” Marilla says.

Geralt grunts and nods to her, before remembering he should probably say something, anything. “Hi.”

Geralt grabs a washcloth and flees.

When he gets back to Jaskier, Jaskier is sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest, scribbling away in his notebook, the inkwell balancing precariously on the mattress. He still has his buttons undone, and Geralt curses himself for even noticing.

“Did you run into anyone?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt’s disgruntled expression must be answer enough, because Jaskier rubs his hands together in delight. “Excellent.”

Marilla scurries back to her room, completely scandalized. She can’t believe they would...defile her home like this. It’s bad enough that Julian couldn’t choose anyone they suggested for himself, and now he brings home a witcher ? He’s trying to make her gray even faster.

She shuts the bedroom door behind her and looks to Ethbert. Her expression must linger on her face, because he asks her, “What?”

“They—” She makes a floppy hand gesture.

“Are you sure? What would a witcher want with Julian? There’s something not right about this.”

Marilla fans herself. “I know. They’re not even wed. It’s impropriety, is what it is.”

Ethbert squints doubtfully.

Geralt is not a morning person. When Jaskier first discovered this, he was puzzled. Geralt is the only person who dictates his schedule, so no one would yell at him if he chose to sleep until midday.

The more Jaskier thinks about it, though, the more it makes sense. Of course Geralt would wake up at the asscrack of dawn; he probably thinks of it as a punishment or some other such self loathing nonsense.

It’s certainly more of a punishment for Jaskier, because he’s the one that has to put up with Geralt’s bearish attitude every morning.

Geralt blinks awake and squints at the rising sun like it’s personally offended him, and Jaskier closes his eyes, not wanting to be caught staring.

“Morning,” Geralt grates out.

Jaskier’s lips twist into a wry smile. “Good morning.”

“I know you weren’t asleep,” Geralt says, sounding annoyed. “You could have woken me up.”

“Mm. And deal with a grumpy witcher first thing in the morning? I don’t think so.”

Geralt scoffs. “I’m not grumpy.”

“Right.”

Geralt swings his legs out of the bed and begins getting dressed. Jaskier stretches into the warmth Geralt left behind, tugging the blankets up over him.

What? He never said he was a morning person, either. “Where are you going?”

“Into town.”

“For what? Do you need things for potions? I’ll go with you.”

“No, no, I’m just going to see if there’s any contracts; you stay here.”

Jaskier gives a sly grin. “Does my family make you nervous?”

“ No .”

“Hmm,” Jaskier says.

“Shut up.”

“Well, don’t go gallivanting off without telling me where. You know I worry.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “No need.”

Jaskier adopts a high pitched voice. “Why, thank you, Jaskier, my dearest friend. I’m so touched to know someone is looking out for me.”

“It’s pretty sad if you have to imagine someone to be your friend.”

Jaskier splutters as Geralt walks out of the room, a smile tugging at his lips.

Jaskier sighs as the door shuts behind him, wanting to bundle himself back in the blankets and Geralt’s scent, but he resists the urge and stumbles out of bed to pull on his clothes.

He makes it down the stairs and to the kitchen, picking up a bowl of eggs and whisking them, the need to be helpful overriding his desire to collapse in a chair and go back to sleep.

“Good morning, Julian,” his mother says stiffly. “Where’s your beau?”

Jaskier lets himself smile at the image of Geralt’s reaction to being heard of himself referred to as Jaskier’s beau .

“He’s out looking for a contract. He’ll be back for lunch, I’m sure.”

He gives his mother a bright grin. He thinks he should have made Geralt suck a hickey on his neck, but, to be honest, he’s not sure if he could have beared that. Geralt had already been so unbearably close to Jaskier when he straddled him. Jaskier’s not sure what had possessed Geralt to do that, all the while expecting Jaskier to keep his hands to himself.

He’s not sure Geralt’s looked in a mirror anytime in the past fifty years because of the whole monster-staring-back-at-him thing (complete horse shit, in Jaskier’s humble opinion, not that Geralt cares to listen to it), but Jaskier is forced to look at him every day, and he suffers.

He suffers every time he trails behind Geralt atop Roach, watching the subtle shift of his back muscles as he rides, and he’s devastated when Geralt deems Roach too tired to carry him and leads her in his tight leather pants. If Geralt hadn’t been wearing just such a thing when Jaskier met him, Jaskier would be convinced Geralt does it just to personally spite Jaskier.

To doom him to look but not touch for the rest of his life. As such, he had never expected Geralt to actually agree to this whole charade. But, he did, and now here they are. Here they are, with Jaskier knowing exactly what Geralt tastes like (less onion than one would expect), but still having to not just kiss the blank looks Geralt likes to give him right off his face.

It’s enough to drive a man mad.

Geralt looks at the pitiful notice board and sighs. He tugs down the one prospect to examine it more closely. Something is stealing a farmer’s sheep. There’s a few possibilities for what it could be, ranging from minor nuisances to things that he shouldn’t even mention to Jaskier because he’ll nag at Geralt until he lets him tag along, and those are always the kind of jobs that Jaskier should be nowhere near.

Geralt’s not sure how someone with the survival instinct of a fly larva is still alive, especially when he insists on following Geralt around, but Geralt’s not going to let Jaskier get hurt on his watch.

Geralt pockets the notice and goes to talk to the farmer who set the contract, but he has very little useful information to tell Geralt. All he offers is that the sheep have been disappearing without a trace. Geralt walks the edges of the property and a bit into the woods, doing a cursory inspection for the carcasses, but he doesn’t find them, either.

Hmm.

Geralt turns and heads back to Jaskier.

Geralt’s acting out of sorts when he returns from town, so Jaskier tugs him aside. “What’s wrong?”

Geralt just grunts and shakes his head.

Jaskier sighs. Typical. “Weren’t there any contracts?”

“There were, just—I don’t know what it is. But I’m sure it will be fine.”

Geralt even tries to give him a bracing smile, and even though it looks more like a grimace, Jaskier knows it’s not good if Geralt has stooped to trying to comfort him.

Jaskier hums at him and leads him to the table where his family are waiting on them for lunch. Jaskier keeps a hand on Geralt’s knee, because he’s allowed to, at the moment.

He delights in watching Geralt make awkward conversation with Nell, but it seems like they’re quickly warming up to each other. Jaskier’s mouth goes dry at the thought of them teaming up on him. They would truly be a menace.

Jaskier’s mood is quickly soured when they finish eating and Geralt insists on heading back out.

“Shouldn’t you wait until the morning? You know, be well rested?”

Geralt shrugs. “It’s been taking the animals at night. Better chance of finding it if I go now.”

“Geralt, we’re not exactly short on coin right now. Why even go?”

“If I don’t take care of this, who will?” Geralt huffs. “This farmer’s livelihood is at risk.”

Jaskier grins. “Geralt, you unbearable softie. You make me look callous.”

Jaskier darts a glance over to his family, who are pretending not to watch them. He takes that as license to tug Geralt in for a chaste kiss. Geralt stiffens against him, and Jaskier is just about ready to pull away, before Geralt starts kissing him back. He makes it decidedly less chaste, and Jaskier puts a hand on his chest. He lets himself savor it for one, two, three seconds before he takes a step back.

“Geralt, there are children present!” he says in a scandalized tone, grinning at Nell.

She glares, and he shoots her a wink.

Geralt clears his throat, and Jaskier jerks his attention back to him. “Right. Well, if I’m not going to talk you out of it, be safe.”

“I always am.”

Ethbert watches as Julian paces back and forth as he waits for the witcher to return. “Sit down,” he says gruffly.

Julian looks at the clock, then out the window, completely ignoring him. Ethbert snorts. Good to know nothing’s changed, then.

“Surely it can’t take this long to murder one measly little thing,” Julian mutters.

“He’s fine,” Ethbert says. “It’d take a lot to overpower a witcher, right?”

Jaskier sits down in a huff, and Ethbert starts to wonder if maybe their relationship is less of a farce than he thought. It’s certainly an odd one, and he’s still clueless as to what they could possibly have in common, but Julian is painting a convincing picture right now, especially as he tugs his cloak off the hook and settles it around his shoulders.

“Where are you going?”

“To find him!”

Ethbert jerks out of his seat with a splutter. “You can’t be serious. You think you’re going to be able to handle whatever a witcher couldn’t?”

Julian pauses. “Well, no. He’s probably lying in a ditch somewhere, slowly bleeding to death. Oh gods, what if he’s out there bleeding to death?”

Julian becomes even more frantic and rushes out the door and to the stables.

Ethbert resigns himself to a long night.

Jaskier clambers onto one of the smaller mares. He doesn’t have the patience to go through the whole process of putting all the tack on, so he clings to the horse’s neck and prays he doesn’t fall off. He digs into her with his knees, and away they go.

Jaskier has no idea which way Geralt went, but there’s some fairly fresh hoof tracks in the wet dirt of the road, so he follows them and hopes they’re Roach’s. Eventually, they go off the road, and Jaskier is left to squint at trampled grass. He wonders if Geralt would be proud of his tracking abilities, and he smiles thinking about the inevitable jab. Jaskier would respond with something about how Geralt was no better than a dog sniffing the air, and all would be well.

But first, he has to find him. Jaskier slows the horse to a walk as the trail becomes fainter, squinting as he looks at the ground. He comes to an outcrop of rocks with an opening just big enough to go inside, and he dismounts his horse cautiously. He certainly doesn’t want to deal with whatever calls this place its home.

Jaskier notices blood, and his heart kicks up a notch. It’s a rust red color, so it’s not very recent. Jaskier follows the splatters, and as he goes, they get brighter and brighter, until Jaskier’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest with the panicked tap dance it’s doing.

It certainly doesn’t help matters when he finds Roach wandering through the woods by herself. “Where’s Geralt?” he asks, and she snorts at him helpfully.

Jaskier casts a look at the blood glistening under the leaves underfoot and knows Geralt has to be close. Roach gives an agitated whinny before she turns and trots off, and Jaskier rushes after her.

In the end, Geralt’s not all that far away. Jaskier sees his hair before he sees anything else, and then he’s sprinting over to him with little thought for anything else. Jaskier drops to his knees beside Geralt. He looks paler than normal, even though Jaskier hadn’t known that was possible

There’s so much blood, and he’s not moving. Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Geralt? Geralt?” he asks, his voice getting louder and more panicked. “Geralt?”

Jaskier resists the urge to shake him and jostle whatever injuries he has, but there’s bile rising in his throat, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do—

His eyes latch on to the infinitesimal rise of Geralt’s chest, and the pressure on his own suddenly lifts. He shuts his eyes for a moment. Geralt isn’t dead, and he can work with that.

Jaskier takes a closer look at Geralt and finds there’s a chunk missing from his side. It’s still bleeding freely, and Jaskier tries to resist the urge to be sick. He works Geralt free of his armor with shaky hands, so he can take a closer look.

Geralt moans and starts to stir, and Jaskier plants his hands on Geralt’s chest. “Just stay still; you’re going to be fine.”

“Jask?” Geralt slurs.

“Yes, yes, it’s me, and you know I’m far too stubborn to let you die.”

“My pack—”

Jaskier could slap himself for not thinking of that. “Right. Um, your potions.”

He whistles for Roach, and she approaches skittishly. Jaskier glances back down at Geralt, and his eyes are slipping shut. Jaskier tightens his grip on Geralt’s shoulder. “Geralt! You have to stay awake. Do you hear me?”

Geralt murmurs something Jaskier doesn’t quite catch, but his eyes open wider. Geralt’s pupils are so dilated, there’s barely a ring of yellow left around the outsides. Jaskier clambers up to look through Roach’s saddlebags, and his heart clenches when Geralt’s hand comes up to clutch at him as he moves away. “I’m not going anywhere,” he soothes.

He rustles through the saddlebag. “Fuck, Geralt, do you really need so many tiny bottles?”

Geralt gives him a weak chuckle before he hisses in pain.

“Which one do you need?” Jaskier asks, hoping Geralt is coherent enough that he’s not about to poison himself.

Jaskier pulls the pouch out of the saddle bag to show him the options. Geralt points to a few, and Jaskier eyes them doubtfully. He uncorks them anyway, sitting back down and settling Geralt’s head into his lap, helping him get the elixirs down, even when Geralt tries to bat his hands away.

“Save your energy for something useful, would you?” Jaskier tuts.

Jaskier prods at the wound in Geralt’s side, jerking his hand back when Geralt winces. “I forgot just how delicate you were, my apologies.”

Geralt barely manages a huff at that, and Jaskier furrows his brows in worry. He pulls Geralt’s shirt away from the wound, biting his lip as it pulls skin away. The wound looks a sickly green underneath all the blood, and Jaskier gasps a little. This is much worse than he thought.

“Geralt, it’s—Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes have slipped shut, and Jaskier scrabbles at him, trying to make him wake up again, but he stays stubbornly still. The only thing giving Jaskier even a tiny glimmer of peace is that his chest is still rising and falling.

Tears are threatening to burst to Jaskier’s eyes, but he pushes them down and takes a deep breath. Somehow, he manages to heave Geralt across Roach. Roach snorts, disgruntled, and Jaskier runs a hand over her flank, trying to soothe her.

He looks around, but he has no idea where the mare he rode out here went. Oops. Hopefully it will wander back to his parent’s estate, but if not, well, will they even miss it?

Jaskier gathers Roach’s reins in his hand and leads her back towards town at a steady trot.

When Geralt comes to, he’s sweltering. He seems to be in a tomb of blankets, and the fire is roaring in the corner of the room. The room? He’s not quite sure how he got here; he would have expected to be lying on the cold ground instead of a soft and yielding bed. There’s even less lumps than he’s accustomed to.

He groans when he tries to move, and there’s a rustling from beside him. Geralt looks over to see Jaskier jerking from his chair to fuss over him. Jaskier’s eyes are red when he finally looks up.

“You promised me you were going to be safe, you terror,” Jaskier sniffs.

Geralt doesn’t have his wits about him enough yet to be dealing with crying bards. “Hmm.”

“Geralt, you—What was it?”

“A cockatrice. It got me with its tail; spit a little poison at me just for fun.”

Jaskier shakes his head. “You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you in the ass.”

This makes Geralt look even grumpier, if possible. Jaskier’s glad; he much prefers that to the slack expression Geralt had had while he was sleeping, and Jaskier was terrified he wouldn’t wake up.

Jaskier looks back at him, and Geralt can’t help himself when he reaches out to swipe away Jaskier’s tears with his thumb. “I’m fine,” he murmurs.

Geralt tosses the covers off himself so he can see his wound. It’s wrapped rather nicely, and when Geralt pokes at it, it feels like there’s some kind of poultice under the bandages. He raises his eyebrows at Jaskier, waiting for an explanation.

“A healer.”

Geralt’s surprised Jaskier found someone who would treat him; most people aren’t too keen on helping witchers.

“I yelled at him until he helped you,” Jaskier admits.

Geralt huffs a laugh. “I’m sure he was terrified.”

Jaskier finally cracks a grin. “Hey, you’re not the only scary one around here.”

Jaskier’s eyes drop to his hand, the one that was just on his face, and fuck, what was Geralt even thinking, but Jaskier reaches out and puts his hand over Geralt’s.

“I was worried,” he says softly. And then, sharper, “Don’t you dare say hmm .”

“Hmm.”

Geralt laughs, and there’s a warmth that settles in his chest when Jaskier does the same.

“You’re incorrigible,” Jaskier finally says.

There’s a lengthy silence, and when Geralt looks up, Jaskier is staring back at him.

“You got the trophy, right?”

“Geralt, my ears must be deceiving me. You cannot possibly be worried about that right now.”

“How else am I going to get paid? Last time I checked, you liked to eat. It needs done before something else drags the carcass away.”

Jaskier sighs and huffs and does everything short of stomping his feet before he gathers his cloak from the back of his chair. He glares at Geralt before he slams the door shut behind him.

Geralt rubs a shaky hand down his face.

He’s an idiot.

Jaskier grumbles to himself as he makes his way back out into the chilly night. His advances are obviously unwelcome, if this is the kind of punishment Geralt is doling out to him. Well, that’s fine. Jaskier will just let him bleed out next time.

Okay, he won’t, but that doesn’t mean he won’t consider it for a few seconds.

Stupid emotionally repressed witchers. He can’t say he wasn’t hoping something would happen with Geralt while they were here, but he should have known better.

Jaskier trudges all the way back to near where he found Geralt, pointedly not looking at the blood stain on the grass. He’s fine , he reminds himself. Jaskier pokes around for a little bit until he remembers the cave he had seen earlier and some vague knowledge that cockatrices prefer them.

He’s half expecting another to show up as he plucks some feathers and cuts off the head, for good measure. He almost gags as his knife goes roughly through the bone and sinew, but he manages to keep his supper. He looks around for any last creatures that are just waiting to murder him, but none appear.

He sighs and makes the trek back.

When he arrives, Geralt is sitting at the table, talking to his family, and Jaskier wonders for a moment if he should be concerned about a doppler. Nell is eating up every word Geralt says, and Jaskier hopes she has pried some good stories out of him that Jaskier can repurpose as songs later.

For now, he swings the cockatrice head up onto the table, and silence falls. “There you go, love,” he says cheerfully.

Geralt is looking back at him with a peculiar expression, and he rises from his chair stiffly. Jaskier rushes over to him to help, and Geralt reluctantly drapes an arm over his shoulder. Geralt leads him to the bathroom, and Jaskier makes sure to say loudly enough for the rest of his family to hear, “Well, if you needed help holding it you only had to ask.”

Geralt huffs in exasperation and shuts the door behind him. Jaskier raises his eyebrows in question. “Did you actually need help, or…” Jaskier trails off, and then Geralt’s lips are on his, warm and hungry, and anymore of Jaskier’s thoughts fly out of his brain.

His arms automatically come up to wrap around Geralt’s waist, until he registers that this is Geralt , and he puts a hand on his chest. “Um. Do you need your head checked out, as well? I thought it was your side, but I can go get the healer again.”

“I’m fine,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier’s not convinced Geralt hasn’t sustained a lasting brain injury, but then Geralt is saying, “I should have done this a long time ago,” and kissing him again.

What is Jaskier to do but kiss him back? It’d be terribly impolite not to, after all. When Geralt finally pulls away, Jaskier asks breathlessly, “What was that for?”

Geralt shrugs, considering. “You looked kind of hot carrying that cockatrice head. The trachea hanging down really got me going.”

Jaskier stares at him in disbelief for a beat before they both dissolve into laughter.

“You’re an idiot,” Jaskier says. “You’re my idiot.”

Ethbert looks across the table, where what his son is doing can only be called terrorizing his witcher, and harrumphs to himself. This is not exactly who he pictured Julian ending up with, to say the least.

He wonders the etiquette for having a son in law older than he is. He supposes he’s going to have to find out.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #fanfiction #contemplative writing

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