#(GESTURES WILDLY AT A CERTAIN SOMEONE RIGHT BEFORE THE SONG STARTS 'DO YOU REALLY WANT TO GO THERE')

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! do you know that tiktok trend where the girl asks her bf if he can temporarily break up with her so she can be heartbroken when she listens to olivia rodrigo’s new album and the bf always says no? could you do that but with peter and avenger!reader? i don’t really know how the avengers play into that but i trust you to think of something great. love your work babes <3

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey fren, tysm <3 i do know that trend, and it always warms my darn heart. you probably meant for this to be a headcanon but halfway through i realised that i was writing full sentences, so i just rolled with it bc i have no self-control lol enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter, I need you to break up with me.”

Not a moment later, you heard a series of loud crashes and Peter stumbled out of the bathroom, hopping on one leg while fiddling with his zipper. “What did you just say?” His eyes were wild as they scanned your face.

“I need you to break up with me,” you repeated calmly, not taking your eyes off your laptop.

“Break up with you?” Peter echoed, hand raking through his hair in bewilderment. “Why would I do that? Do you want to break up?”

This made you look up. Peter was staring at you like you had just insulted his face, making it quite an effort to stay serious. “It’s just for 34 minutes and 46 seconds,” you assured. “So I can listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s new album.”

He blinked at you.

“What?”

“Please?” You set your laptop aside, shuffling to the end of the bed so you were sitting right in front of him. “I want to listen to it in full effect with a broken heart and everything.”

“I…” Peter slowly shook his head. A helpless laugh escaped him. “Um, no. Thank you.” He turned and made to return to the bathroom.

“Peter,” you whined and grabbed for his hand, pulling him to a halt.

“Sorry, angel.” He shrugged, supressing the faint tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Pleeeeaase.”

“Nope.”

You pouted. “We can break up when you train with Bucky! In that way you won’t even notice because you’ll be busy and distracted. I won’t even be on your mind.” You weren’t sure what you had said that made Peter stare at you like you were insane, but it took him a second to snap out of it.

He cupped your face with his hands and made sure to meet your eyes. “Babe, I think about you all the time.” He said it like it was a wish he wanted to word correctly. Slow and precise. Then he switched to a lighter tone that implied that he was done with the conversation. “I’m not breaking up with you.” With that he turned and left for the bathroom.

“Fine,” you called back although the water was already running and you doubted that Peter could hear you. And if he did, he probably didn’t care. You took that as your cue to leave. Defeated, you plucked your headphones into your phone and picked out a song of Olivia’s album at random.

Steve was lounging on the couch of the common room when you entered. He looked up from his magazine and gave you a small smile by way of greeting. You returned it by tapping two fingers at your temple in salute, ignoring the way how his stare lingered a little longer. You sat down next to him. When you locked eyes again, you saw the silent question on his face and let out a laugh. It ended up sounding more like a delightful scoff.

“I know Tony takes pride in being the philanthropist amongst us, but for someone who grew up in the ice age, you’re really good at reading people’s faces.” You wanted to annoy Steve, maybe even coax out a laugh, but he just kept looking at you, and you held his gaze. You were good at it—an aftereffect of living with Bucky who happened to love the same yoghurt as you did. Sometimes you put all western movies to shame with the way you narrowed your eyes at each other early in the morning in front of the fridge.

To your luck, Steve was just as stubborn, which meant that you two could’ve kept it going until death if it weren’t for the door banging open.

“I can’t believe you did this to me!” A voice boomed. You took a wild guess and assumed it was Clint.

“Tell me about it!” Another voice bellowed right back.

A second later, Sam and Clint marched into the room, furious, whereas Bucky strolled in behind them with no care in the world.

The former two were holding bags of food. Both were animated and waving their arms through the air while arguing. You turned down the volume of your phone in time to hear Steve demand, “What’s going on?”

Clint and Sam stared daggers at Bucky until Steve amended, “Buck, what did you do?”

The man in question turned around, facing his best friend in exasperation. “I asked these two to get food for me.” This earned him a snarl. Bucky waved them off and examined his metal arm, unconcerned. “Honestly, I have no idea why they’re getting so worked up about it.”

“We—” Sam gestured wildly between Clint and himself. “—were asked to pick up food for him from two different places. And neither of us knew about it!”

“Yes, neither of us knew,” Clint chimed in, eyes narrowing at Bucky who was busy flicking dust off his arm. “And I don’t know about you, Sam, but I was touched. I was moved, okay? Because Bucky never asks for anything and here I was, thinking we’re starting to bond or whatever but now I just feel USED.”

Sam gave a harsh sound in agreement.

“Bucky,” said Steve after no one had anything to add. “What do you have to say to that?”

Your gaze flitted between them, not sure what to expect. Bucky didn’t give any sign of wanting to respond, making you wonder if he had heard Cap at all. But then a slow smile swept over his lips and you noted that it was probably the most feline smile you’d ever seen. It was a smile storybook villains wore after burning down the world.

“The only thing I have to say is that I regret not having the moment they ran into each other in the elevator on video tape, because that—” He turned and looked Sam and Clint straight in the eye. “—was amazing.”

No one spoke.

“Ruthless,” you said under your breath and just like marionettes, the four men glanced you before another argument broke.

You took the chance to turn the volume back up. “happier” was playing and you settled further into the couch to watch the scene unfold. Sam was arguing so passionately that the vein on his neck was making an impressive appearance. Clint, on the other hand, had a palm pressed flat to his chest; his face showing pure betrayal. Bucky didn’t seem to care for the chaos. He tried multiple times to grab for the bags only for one of them to move out of his reach. When you glanced at Steve, you nearly lost it.

He was staring at them like his lifespan had just been reduced to ten years. He looked like he wanted to throw pebbles after them.

Nudging him with your arm, you silently handed him one of your earphones. He glanced at you and hesitated, probably thinking of the many times you had offered him a taste of blaring electronic music. You rolled your eyes and insisted again. This time, Steve took it and you watched in amusement as his brows rose in surprise.

“I like the piano,” he mouthed and glimpsed at the name of the song. You grinned.

In the meantime, Clint and Sam had decided to form an alliance. They had planted themselves in the opposite couch, digging into the contents of the brown bags while Bucky gawked at them from the other side of the room with his mouth ajar and heart ripped out of his chest. Shaking his head in disbelief, he let himself fall into the armchair facing them. He looked devastated. You weren’t sure if you had to stifle a laugh or tears.

Next to you, Steve chocked back a laugh. You quirked an eyebrow and considered him only to realise the reason behind his glee. Bucky was brooding in his seat while Sam and Clint did an excellence job on commenting every bite. Nothing has ever received as much praise as that pasta, and you were certain that if this were a cartoon, there would be rain clouds hovering above Bucky’s head. As if the angels had set it up themselves, you took notice of the lyrics.

I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great but don't find no one better

Bucky was pouting, poking the leather of his armchair with his finger while stealing glances at Sam and Clint. It was perfect. Steve slapped a hand on his chest and he tipped his head back, laughing.

I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You were both laughing hysterically. The others had stopped their on-going war to stare at the two of you; their expressions baffled. The song came to an end and Steve gave back your earphone, rubbing his eye as if wiping away a tear. He rose and walked over to Bucky, hurling him to his feet and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Buck,” Steve said with a note of laughter in his voice. “There’s a song I need to show you.” You smiled as you watched them leave.

“Well, this was fun.” You pushed yourself off the couch and shook your head as Sam offered you some of his sushi. “Thanks, but I’m on a mission to get heartbroken.”

Leaving the men to their food, you wandered the halls and listened to “traitor” as you walked past Wanda’s room. Her door was open and you could see that Vision was in the middle of a chess game with Bruce and Wanda. By the looks of it, Vision was as good as winning and you reined the urge to cheer for him. You peaked around the door frame and saw that Vision had their king in check. Deep betrayal crossed Wanda’s face.

You chuckled quietly and whispered, “FRIDAY, play what I’m listening to right now through the speakers in Wanda’s room.” FRIDAY didn’t bother to respond but not a second later, the lyrics were blasting through her room and their heads snapped up in confusion.

Don't you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

“Wanda?“ You heard Vision’s careful voice. “What is going on?”

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still

You're still a traitor

“I’m not sure, but these lyrics aren’t wrong…You are a traitor.” Wanda narrowed her eyes at him, slowly bobbing her head to the music. Treason danced in her eyes. It was the beginning of a villain origin story.

“Maybe it’s a sign of God,” Bruce said and you almost burst out laughing.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

“Hell yeah!” Wanda yelled and this time you bolted down the hallway, wheezing. You dashed right into Tony’s lab and slammed the door.

“What are you on?” He looked up in amusement. You simply shook your head, laughter still bubbling over your lips.

“Just spreading love in this facility.” You waved your hand at nothing in particular and Tony nodded.

“Right, I heard you asked Peter to break up with you to listen to that one album? Very dramatic. I like it.”

“See.” You gestured at him, indicating that he was the only one who got it. “It’s a good album. Maybe you should ask Pepper to divorce you.”

Tony gave a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think she would come back if I asked her.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled and this time Tony’s laughed for real.

“So what? You’ve just been walking around waiting for heartbreak?” He turned back to whatever he was working on. You stepped closer to get a peek.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds tiring.”

“I’m powered by exhaustion” You handed him the wrench he needed. “Want a listen? I think there’s a song you might like.”

He contemplated the offer and lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure, why not.” You couldn’t help but squeal. You knew that Tony probably didn’t care but sharing your music was always exciting.

Beaming, you removed your headphones and connected your phone to the speakers of Tony’s lab. The first tunes of “good 4 u” started playing and Tony tapped his foot to the beat, head bobbing just slightly. When the chorus hit, he stood up and you stepped back, thinking he wanted to headbang. Instead, he reached for a tool that was further away. You didn’t miss the way he moved his shoulders in a little dance move though.

“I like this one,” he said, and you flashed him a smile. You continued working on the suit, handing Tony things you knew he needed until you passed him a plier and he froze. You furrowed your brows, glanced at the tool you knew was the right one, and cocked your head in silent question.

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Looking you straight in the eyes, he flung the plier over his shoulder, opened a drawer, and took out another plier to use on his suit. You gasped.

“How dare you,” you whispered in shock. Tony had the nerve to shrug.

“Enjoy your little heartbreak moment, Y/N.” He shooed you away like a cat. “FRIDAY, yank up the volume, would you.”

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me

“Guys?” Peter’s voice was drowned out by the booming music. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching in amusement as you and Tony towered on the lab tables, using screwdrivers as provisional microphones. While Tony played a terrific air guitar, you sank dramatically to your knees and impressed the crowd with your air drumming skills.

“Guys?” Peter tried again, chuckling. This time you and Tony whipped around at the same time and pointed straight at Peter.

Like a damn sociopath

You threw your arms up in the air and spun in circles while Tony jumped into quite an impressive split leap.

I've lost my mind

I've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom

Just over the fact that I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

The song came to an end, and you leapt on Tony’s table to share a screwdriver with him as you sang the last lyrics together.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

The song ended and all you could hear was heavy breathing. Peter began to clap. “This was great, you guys. Wow.”

You exchanged glances with Tony before making a show of bowing at the waist.

“So this is what happens when I refuse to break up with you?” Peter strolled over to where you sat on the lab table, positioning himself between your legs. Tony chuckled and jumped off to grab a water bottle from across the room.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that,” you said, just for the devil of it.

Peter smiled. “Cap and Bucky are crying over a song, Vision is sending Wanda flowers in ten-minute intervals, and you are down here having a rock concert with Tony.”

You gave him a toothy grin. “I was just feeling sour.”

* * *

stay hydrated pals

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 04

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 6.5k [4/6]

notes: we finally have a set chapter count! did this fic really need to be 6 chapters? absolutely not, but here we are! i’m hoping to have this fella finished up in the next month or so, but we’ll see how that goes given my track record. happy new year, everyone!

warnings: a little underedited bc i’m lazy, shower sex!!! mild? exhibitionist tendencies??? reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty, but what else is new 🤷🏻‍♀️

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

“I swear to god, I am going to amputate your arm with a rusty hacksaw if you elbow me one more time.”

Undeterred, your brother prods you again, pouting at you from his spot in the driver’s seat. “I just want another chip, Noona. Don’t be so mean.”

“Are you a baby bird?” you ask in disbelief, gaping at the way he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. “Seriously, I’m not feeding you. Get your own chips if you want them so badly.”

“But I’ve gotta keep both hands on the wheel,” he replies cheekily. “Ten and two positions, at all times.”

You frown. “Didn’t they change it to nine and three?” Nonetheless, you reluctantly reach into the bag in your lap, pulling out a potato chip and delivering it to his waiting mouth. “Next one’s going straight into your nose,” you warn as he happily crunches down on the snack.

Jimin simply offers you a beatific grin in between chews. “Love you too.”

“Nope, I changed my mind. Next one’s going up your ass.”

Your brother has long since grown used to your threats. “Kinky,” he chuckles as he merges smoothly into the next lane over. The song on the radio shifts into something more upbeat, and Jungkook is quick to start humming along under his breath from his spot in the seat behind you. Within minutes, it’s morphed into a singalong, and the offkey warbling of all seven passengers—no matter how dissonant—is a perfect soundtrack for the remainder of the drive.

The beach, when you arrive, is awash with tourists and locals alike, all clamoring to lay claim to a prime stretch of sand and a decent parking space. Jimin manages to snag a spot just as someone else is pulling out, and the rest of you are quick to disembark and scope out the beach for somewhere to set up camp. Plopping your bag down onto the sand, you rifle through it until you find your sunscreen, mentally patting yourself on the back for buying the spray instead of the cream.

“Can I borrow that when you’re done, Noona?” Taehyung asks, watching you wrench off the cap.

You nod, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure. As long as you help me get my entire back.”

“Deal.”

Flashing him a grateful smile, you shimmy out of your shorts and begin applying sunscreen to your arms and legs. Taehyung peels off his t-shirt, and you spray him down too, making sure to coat his entire back before he takes the bottle and does the same to you.

“I might have gone a little overboard,” he admits once he’s done, capping the bottle and tossing it back into your bag. Warm hands settle onto your exposed shoulder blades, deft fingertips rubbing the excess product into your skin. “There, that should do it. All better.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You turn around and reach out, wiping at a stray fleck of the white lotion on his bicep. “You’ve got a little bit here too, hang on—“

“Mind if I borrow this?”

You turn at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. The dark-haired young man is standing there with your sunscreen in hand, his gaze zeroed in on the way your fingertips linger on Taehyung’s bare skin. Awkwardly, you pull away and nod, hoping that neither of them can hear your heart pounding erratically against your ribcage.

“Yeah. Sure. It’s all yours.”

Jungkook grabs his white t-shirt by the collar, tugging it up and over his head in one smooth motion, and you swallow at the way his taut abdomen flexes as he tosses it aside. “You’ll help me get my back too, won’t you, Noona?”

You nod, moving before he can even finish his sentence. Your feet carry you across the sandy ground on autopilot, and Jungkook exhales audibly as your palms smooth along the golden expanse of his muscular back, dipping down to the waistband of his black swim trunks. Ever since his visit to your bedroom last night, you’ve been itching to touch him—to feel every last inch of him. It’s impossible with your watchful brother and group of nosy friends hovering around though, so you settle for this—rubbing sunscreen into his warm skin while he sprays down his arms and legs.

“Thanks, princess,” he murmurs once you’re done, soft enough so that only you can hear and raising gooseflesh on the back of your neck. “Maybe next time, you’ll let me repay the favor.”

Then Yugyeom is calling his name, and Jungkook sprints down to the shoreline to join his friend in the crashing surf, his face creasing with laughter. Each time he emerges from the waves, droplets cling to his skin like glistening diamonds in the sunlight. It’s impossible to look away from the sight, and your tongue darts out to moisten your lips as you watch water drip off his hair and down his nape, pooling in his collarbones before he shakes his head like a dog and sends it spraying in all directions.

All that sunscreen is going to waste, a tiny voice in your head points out, but it’s hard to worry about that when you’re too busy following the path of the water streaming down past his dusky nipples to the ridges of his abdomen. And it’s almost as if he feels your gaze on him, because he’s suddenly staring right back at you, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come on, Noona,” he calls, raking a hand through his drenched hair. “The water’s fine. Don’t make me drag you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you call back, immediately regretting it when something equal parts mischievous and dangerous flashes across his face. There’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there before, and you back away nervously as he emerges from the waves and saunters toward you. “Jungkook—”

“Yes?” he asks, his voice dropping down into a low purr. “What is it, princess?”

You edge around the towel that you’ve laid out in the sand, as if such a flimsy barrier could stop him in any way. “Just—just don’t dunk me under,” you plead.

Jungkook looks genuinely offended by that. “I would never,” he says, laying a hand over his heart and grabbing yours with his free one. “Now come on—let’s get you wet.”

You groan at the innuendo and try to tug free from his grip, but Jungkook only tightens his grasp, cackling the whole way down to the water.

///

The sun is just beginning to set, streaking the blue sky through with wispy strands of orange and gold, when Jimin raises his hand and declares it dinner time. For the past two hours, you’ve all been engrossed in a very tight three-on-three volleyball match with Jimin serving as referee, and upon hearing your brother’s declaration, Minho looks about ready to chuck the ball into the ocean.

“Dude, are you fucking serious? We’re literally two points from winning!” He gestures wildly at an invisible scoreboard only he can see. “No way we’re stopping here. I refuse on principle.”

“Yeah, I wanna see who the real winner is, too,” Jungkook drawls from the other end of the court, where he’s flanked on either side by Taehyung and Yugyeom. “I mean, we’ve been leading for most of the tournament, so…”

Minho scowls. “And we’re about to win the whole damn thing. Just you wait, Jeon.”

Behind him, you and Taemin exchange helpless glances. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jungkook and Minho squabble over the years, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. Both possess a razor sharp competitive streak and a certain pigheadedness that only emerges when it comes to athletic endeavors, and luckily, your brother knows this just as well as you do. Heaving a sigh, Jimin wearily gestures for them to continue, resuming his post at the end of the net. “Fine, fine,” he mutters. “Next point wins.”

On the other side of the net, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “I’m good with that if you are.”

“Oh, I’m good,” Minho retorts. “It’s our serve. You ready?”

Jungkook smirks. “Bring it on.”

Minho cracks his knuckles and tosses the ball over to you for the serve. “All right then, let’s fucking do this.”

You sigh. Taking a deep breath, you heft up the ball, testing its weight before hitting it smoothly over the net. Yugyeom jumps up to intercept, batting it back over to your side, and Minho attempts to spike it back and into the sand. Unfortunately, Jungkook is too quick, and dives down to bump it back over to you. The back and forth continues like this for a while—you see Jimin boredly scrolling on his phone out of the corner of your eye—and you’re strongly considering calling it quits when Jungkook smashes the ball over the net and into the ground right at Minho’s feet.

“And that’s game,” he declares proudly, raking his sweaty hair off his forehead with a triumphant grin.

“Are you finally done?” Jimin asks, rolling his eyes and pocketing his phone. “Thank god. Can we eat now?”

Jungkook claps him on the back in affirmation, ignoring Minho’s loud, adamant protests that your team still technically won. Together, you head back to where your towels and bags sit in the sand, grabbing bottles of chilled water out of the cooler and fishing for snacks. Jimin pulls a package of hot dogs out while Taehyung rips open a bag of chips, and you follow their lead and grab the hamburger patties and buns. “Huh, I swear I bought ketchup,” you mumble to yourself as you rummage through the half-melted ice in the cooler. “Is it not in here?”

“I have it.” Jungkook materializes at your side, proffering the little red bottle. He’s pulled his white t-shirt back on, the material a stark contrast to his tanned skin, and you silently rise to your feet to take it when a sudden wave of lightheadedness rushes over you and sends the world spinning.

“Whoa,” you gasp, swaying on your feet. “Oh, god.”

Jungkook frowns and drops the ketchup bottle, steadying you until most of your weight is leaned against him. “Noona? Are you okay?”

You swallow, hard, and try to shake the unexpected bout of dizziness away. “I don’t know. Got dizzy, all of a sudden. I think I might have stood up too fast?”

Gently, Jungkook presses the back of his hand against your forehead. “You feel pretty warm,” he murmurs. “Have you had enough water today?”

“I thought I drank plenty, but maybe not,” you admit, and he nods decisively and gestures for you to follow him.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s grab some water and go somewhere quiet so you can rest. Minho isn’t going to shut up about that match anytime soon, and it’s cooler down by the water.”

You laugh weakly. “We did technically win, you know. We had one more point than you guys.”

“God, not you too,” Jungkook sighs, casting you a playful look over his shoulder as he digs two bottles of water out from the cooler. He uncaps one and hands it over before taking a swig out of his, and you take a grateful sip, relishing in the cool liquid that trickles down your throat.

Nearby, your brother and the rest of the boys have commandeered one of several firepits scattered around the edges of the beach. They’re piling up pieces of driftwood and some of the long, tall sea grass that Taehyung has found, and Jungkook waves at them as he slowly guides you toward the ocean with a hand on your back. “We’re gonna go find some more wood!” he calls, and Jimin raises a hand in acknowledgment before turning back to the firepit.

Water laps gently at your toes as you and Jungkook walk along the shore, washing away all traces of your footprints. The sun dips below the horizon at last, illuminating the sky in one last burst of red and orange and gold that slowly fades into deep purples and blues as night falls. The temperature dips as the moon ascends to her lofty throne, accompanied by a smattering of starry pinpricks. Most of the beachgoers have packed up and left by this point, and here, with nothing but Jungkook’s quiet, familiar presence and the lapping waves, you feel more at peace than you have in a long time.

“You know, I’m really glad I came this weekend,” you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you. Your gaze drops down to your toes, fixing your attention on a pearly white seashell that’s sticking out from the wet sand. “I think you were right—I really did need a break from everything.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that,” Jungkook says, swirling his pinky in his ear. “Could you say it again? Something about me being right?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Jungkook casts a quick look over his shoulder, and when you follow the trajectory of his gaze, you notice just how far you’ve gotten from the firepit where the others are sitting. Darkness has settled over the beach, the sand painted a wan silver from the light of the moon, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand finds its way around yours.

“Jungkook—” you begin, but trail off when he twines your fingers together and gives your hand a squeeze.

“They can’t see us, Noona,” he murmurs. “Relax.”

Easier said than done, you want to say. Nevertheless, you suck in a deep breath and take another sip from your water bottle, trying to ignore the way Jungkook swings your interlocked hands between you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we be trying to find more driftwood?” you ask after several long seconds have dragged by. “We need way more if we’re gonna keep the fire going.”

Jungkook hums softly and veers inland, until the sand beneath your feet is dry and starts sticking to your wet toes. You come across a few scattered pieces of wood, dried out by the sun, and tuck them beneath your arm. Likewise, Jungkook gathers a few pieces of his own, hefting them up before reaching out to take your hand once more. His fingers slot all too comfortably into the spaces between yours, and your heart stutters a few times in your chest before plunking down into your churning stomach.

Nighttime has well and truly settled over the beach by the time you and Jungkook start picking your way back over to rejoin the group around the firepit. You pull your hand out of Jungkook’s well before you reach the ring of orange light that the flames cast across the sand, your arm now swinging free at your side and your fingers cold from the loss of his warmth. Silently, you hasten your pace and plop down onto the towel that Jimin has spread out, stretching out your legs toward the fire and wiggling your toes.

“Where have you guys been?” Jimin asks curiously. “You just kinda wandered off.”

“Getting more driftwood,” you reply, gesturing at the small pile you’ve dropped at the edge of the towel. “We told you that’s where we were going.”

Jimin frowns for a few seconds before the memory resurfaces. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

Jungkook snorts and takes a seat beside you, dropping his stack of driftwood on top of yours. “Dumbass.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Jimin retorts.

“You’re both dumbasses,” you sigh.

The fire crackles merrily, sending orange sparks up into the velvety black sky. There’s a grill situated over the flames, loaded with hamburger patties and hot dogs, and you watch as Jimin tears open a bag of hot dog buns and begins to place them around the edges.

“Hey, can you throw me the hamburger buns?” he asks you. “I wanna try toasting them.”

“You’re gonna burn them,” you tell him flatly. Nonetheless, you locate the second bag and toss it over, watching as he makes more room on the grill.

Dinner is a loud, chaotic affair, filled with laughter and conversation and plenty of booze to go around. Jimin has procured a flask of whiskey from somewhere in his clothing—an impressive feat in and of itself, considering he’s only wearing swim trunks and a thin blue t-shirt. You wave him off when he offers you a sip, and he shrugs and throws back a generous swallow himself. Then he offers it to Jungkook, who shakes his head and raises his water bottle. “Designated driver,” he says. “I’m sticking to water tonight.”

Curiously, you glance over at him. “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t planning on drinking, so I can drive us back.”

“With the way you were looking earlier?” Jungkook fixes you with a look of pure disbelief. “Not a chance. Besides, we’re going back to the real world tomorrow, and the last thing I need is to be hungover. I have to get us back home in one piece, not to mention the entire menu I still have to memorize for work.”

You hum. Jungkook has mentioned his new job a few times—a summer stint working as a server at a new restaurant opened by a family friend named Seokjin. “Right, I remember you saying that. You start on Monday, don’t you?”

“Dinner shift,” Jungkook confirms. “I stole a whole bunch of pens from Junghyun’s room the other day in preparation. Jin said I’d probably end up losing two-thirds of them by the end of the week.”

“That sounds about right,” you tell him with a laugh. “Some guy stole my favorite pen last summer when I was working at that diner on Main. Lesson learned, forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “Yeah, I bet.”

You grin. “But, hey, seriously. If you need me to quiz you on that menu, I’ve got time to spare.”

“Honestly, I might take you up on that offer. I have flash cards, and everything.” He uncaps his water bottle and takes a long sip, his throat bobbing with each swallow, before glancing back over at you. “What about you? You ready for your internship?”

You sigh and offer him a helpless little shrug. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, to be honest. I don’t think I’m going to stop stressing about it until I get through my first day. The entire thing still doesn’t feel real.”

“I get that,” Jungkook hums. “Well, I can imagine it, at least. I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through, since I’ve never had an adult job, but—“ He shrugs a shoulder halfheartedly. “I can kind of relate, I guess.”

“All jobs suck a little bit,” you tell him, and Jungkook lets out a derisive huff of agreement.

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, and the two of you tap your water bottles together before rejoining the conversation with the rest of your friends.

///

The drive back to the lake house is shorter than you remember it being—though that might be because you spend most of it watching Jungkook drive. He steers with one hand slung carelessly over the wheel, his expression relaxed as he sings along to whatever pop hit plays on the radio. Unloading the car is a team effort, though you hear no shortage of complaints from Jimin as he heaves the cooler over the threshold of the house before collapsing atop it in a pile of limp limbs.

“Thanks for leaving me to carry this thing by myself,” he snarks, not even bothering to raise his head. “Really appreciate it.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Taehyung scoffs, tossing a game console at him. “Have a beer and pick something to play. We’re waiting on you.”

You watch as your brother immediately hops up and darts over to join the rest of the boys lounging in the living room, fighting back the sudden wave of exhaustion that washes over you. “I think I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, hiding a yawn behind your hand. “Goodnight, guys.”

A chorus of goodnights and see you in the mornings rings out in response, and you wave before heading down the hall to your room and into the adjoining bathroom. Your hair is crusty from being submerged in the salty water of the ocean, and a shower to rejuvenate your dehydrated skin is just what you need. Turning on the tap, you wait until it’s flowing warm before stripping out of your clothes and tossing them onto your bed to deal with later. Then you step into the shower and tilt your head back, letting the water stream down your face and soak into your hair.

You’re midway through squeezing a generous dollop of shampoo into your palm when there’s a soft knock on the door. “Noona?” Jungkook’s voice filters through the sound of rushing water, low and lilting like a song. “You left kinda fast. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

You cap the shampoo bottle and replace it on the shelf, peering out from behind the shower curtain. “I’m fine,” you call, hesitating before you steel your nerves and continue. “You can come in, if you want. I don’t like yelling through the door.”

Slowly, the bathroom door eases open, revealing Jungkook standing in his and Jimin’s shared bedroom. His brown eyes are wide as he takes in the sight before him, and you have no doubt that he’s thinking about just what the palm tree patterned curtain is hiding from his view. Your lip finds its way between your teeth when you notice him shuffle his feet awkwardly for a moment before stepping a little closer to where you’re standing beneath the spray, his mouth opening to speak.

“Join me?”

The invitation slips past your lips, unbidden, but you have no intention of taking it back. Not when Jungkook’s gaze darkens to obsidian at those two simple words, his mouth snapping shut and his hands already reaching for the hem of his white t-shirt. Not when he strips it off in one smooth motion to reveal all the dips and ridges of his abdomen, his skin golden even under the harsh fluorescent bathroom lights. And certainly not when he pulls aside the shower curtain and joins you beneath the spray, his dark eyes appreciatively raking up and down your bare figure.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a low purr.

“Hi,” you respond, reaching out and trailing a fingertip down his chest.

And then you’re dropping down to your knees, your tongue darting out to tease at the tip of his already rising cock. One hand finds its way to his balls while the other traces the line of his pelvic bone, and you smirk when you feel him let out a shuddery breath.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Someone’s eager.”

You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, humming, and Jungkook’s fingers fly into your dampened hair. “Oh, fuck. You’re really trying to kill me, huh, princess?” he asks, and you respond by taking a little more of him into your mouth, laving at the vein running along the underside of his length before hollowing your cheeks. Jungkook throws his head back, a deep groan escaping his parted lips, and you preen under his encouragement as he urges you to take him deeper.

You’ve just begun to settle into a rhythm—figuring out exactly how much pressure he likes and what makes his hips buck—when he suddenly pushes you away. “Jung—” you begin, only to have him silence you with a searing kiss, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you to your feet.

“Wanna fuck you properly,” he rasps. His hand finds its way between your legs, experimental fingers sliding through the wetness that’s gathered there, and your cheeks heat up when he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean. “Just let me go grab a condom,” he whispers urgently. “Don’t move a muscle, okay? I’ll be righ—”

You silence him with a hard kiss. “Don’t,” you mumble. “I’m clean. Are you?”

Jungkook nods slowly, his eyes wide. “Does that mean… I mean, are you…?”

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur. “Fuck me raw, Jungkook.”

A sharp gasp escapes you when Jungkook cages you against the cool tiled wall of the shower, the slick surface dampened by the spray from the showerhead. He grabs ahold of your thigh and hoists it up to wrap around his waist, and you’ve never been more thankful for the ugly fish patterned shower mat that your mom insisted on putting down to prevent slipping. Jungkook nestles into the newly created space between your legs, his cock hot and slick against your center, and you keen when he grinds against you in a slow, deliberate motion.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, his breath hot against your cheek. “Feel how hard you get me, Noona?”

“God, Jungkook,” you breathe back. “Just fuck me already, will you?”

His answering chuckle sends a shiver from your toes to your crown. “So needy,” he murmurs, his hand sliding from your thigh to your hip. His mouth seeks out yours as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance, meeting little resistance as he slowly begins pushing inside. Your walls part willingly for him and your lips do too—his questing tongue slipping inside when you moan and beginning his seemingly endless task of mapping out every corner of your mouth.

“God, I forgot how big you are,” you breathe when he bottoms out—the entirety of his hot, heavy length sheathed within your walls. Your head falls back against the tile as he rolls his hips experimentally, a moan that sounds vaguely like Jungkook’s name escaping your lips. Your arms come up to brace on his shoulders as he picks up his pace, but he intercepts one of your hands and twines your fingers together, settling them onto the wall just to the left of your head. His other hand returns to your thigh to keep you stable and spread out for his increasingly harsh thrusts, and you whimper helplessly in his ironclad grip.

“That’s it,” he whispers, groaning when you clench around him. “God, you’re so fucking tight, princess.”

“Fuck me open, then,” you moan back, squeezing his hand and meeting his next thrust with one of your own. Jungkook’s breathing stutters, and you laugh breathlessly at the way his mouth falls open at the spike of pleasure. Emboldened, you grind against him, the spray from the shower easing the movement. “Jungkook, please.”

He chuckles hoarsely. “Careful what you wish for,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, punctuating the warning with a harsh roll of his hips that sends all remaining thought flying out of your head. In this moment, there’s only Jungkook—his dark hair dampened and dripping, the spray from the showerhead slicking his chest and pooling in his clavicle before trailing down each ridge and dip of his honeyed skin. His lips find yours again, and you sigh into the kiss as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

“Hey, Jungkook! You in there?”

Your eyes fly open at the new voice, your body tensing when there are several loud bangs on the door. Jungkook freezes mid-thrust with an expression that can only be described as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, his throat bobbing nervously as he fights to find a response. You can practically see the gears whirring in his brain, and shove uselessly at his chest in an attempt to escape his steely embrace.

“That’s Jimin,” you hiss urgently, turning his face toward yours and prodding his cheek until his gaze refocuses. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“Dude.” Jimin’s voice is laced with irritation. “I wanna brush my teeth! What the hell are you doing in there?”

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between you and the closed bathroom door. Then he inhales deeply, pressing a light kiss to your furrowed forehead before pulling the shower curtain closed, ensuring there are no gaps. “I got you,” he murmurs softly, his brown eyes boring into yours. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin, but they fly open again when Jungkook breaks away and yells for Jimin to come in. Warm palms slide soothingly down your sides, but that doesn’t stop you from tensing up when the bathroom door creaks open, your brother’s soft footsteps approaching the flimsy palm tree patterned curtain.

“Have you been showering this whole time? Jeez. Leave some hot water for the rest of us, will you?”

Jungkook chuckles. Ever so slowly, he pushes forward until he’s fully seated inside you again, and you do your best to level a glare at him even as pleasure flares at the base of your spine. “There’s plenty to go around,” he says. “Relax.”

You get the distinct feeling that he’s not just addressing Jimin anymore. Jungkook pulls back until only the top of his cock remains nestled in your folds, and you open your mouth to berate him but all that comes out is a low moan when he sinks back inside you in one swift push.

On the other side of the curtain, you hear the faucet turn on. “Man, I can’t believe we leave tomorrow,” Jimin says over the sound of running water. “The weekend flew by.”

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, brushing a thumb across your clit. The pace he’s set is slow and deep, and is made all the more sensual by the steam that’s steadily building up in the small room. You try once more to push him away—to quell the growing ache between your legs—but it’s all in vain as he chuckles softly into the crook of your neck, his bare shoulders quaking. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs, his voice a wicked little whisper that’s immediately lost in the spray of water. “Just let me take care of you, yeah?”

You don’t have a chance to answer. Jimin starts speaking again, this time accompanied by the sound of toothbrush bristles scrubbing against his teeth. “I’m starting up at the studio as soon as we get back—isn’t that crazy? I mean, I’ve never taught anyone how to dance before. Not really. Not for real.”

Jungkook snaps his hips up so sharply that you nearly mewl in surprise, forced to bite down into his meaty shoulder to muffle the noises that threaten to escape from your throat. “You’re a great tutor, man,” he says, his voice steady even as he resumes his slow, lazy thrusts, his cock dragging along your fluttering walls. “You’ve been helping people with math for, what, two years? What makes you think it’ll be any different with dancing?”

Jimin spits into the sink and sighs. “I don’t know. It’s scarier because there’ll be more people, I guess. Tutoring is one on one, y’know? And at the studio, I’ll have a full class of people watching me. Every single move I make, they’ll be looking at. That’s fucking terrifying to think about.”

Slowly, Jungkook’s hips still, his cock buried to the hilt in your cunt. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, backed by the relentless spray from the showerhead, and Jungkook leans down to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, his hair dripping.

“You’re a great dancer, Jimin,” he says once he’s pulled back and straightened back up to his full height. “Best one I know. You’re also one of the smartest people I know, but right now, you’re being really fucking dumb.”

There’s a clatter that sounds like a plastic toothbrush being dropped into the sink, and Jimin lets out an affronted squeak. “Hey!”

Jungkook just chuckles, his shoulders quaking. “It’s true,” he says easily. “Seriously, man. You don’t have a thing to worry about. You’re gonna kick ass out there, and your class is gonna be awesome. You’re already, what, almost maxed out on the number of registrants? You’re already killing it.”

Your brother lets out an unintelligible grumble on the other side of the shower curtain, but you can still hear the smile in his voice no matter how hard he tries to mask it. “All right, you fucking sap,” Jimin says at last, his soft footsteps padding toward the door. “Hurry up and get out of there, yeah? You’re really gonna use up all the hot water.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and you immediately smack Jungkook in the middle of his stupidly toned chest. “Oh my god!” you hiss. “Are you kidding me right now, Jeon? We could’ve been caught!”

“But we weren’t,” Jungkook replies easily, shaking his dampened hair out of his face and fixing you with an indolent little smirk. “So why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me now?”

///

The next morning brings with it a whirlwind of frenzied packing, and you mentally congratulate yourself for preemptively gathering all of your belongings together last night. Minho is wandering every last inch of the house with a piece of half-eaten toast dangling from his mouth, and you can hear Taehyung in the distance asking if anyone’s seen his strawberry body wash. Jungkook is seated on the floor near the front door, his brows furrowed and his lower lip jutting out in a pout as he fights to close the zipper of his suitcase.

“Got it!” he exclaims after a few seconds, triumphant. “Where’s your stuff, Noona? I’m gonna load the car.”

You begin to stand up from your spot on the couch. “It’s in my room, let me go get—”

Jungkook is on his feet and halfway down the hall before you can even finish your sentence. He returns a moment later with your luggage in tow, shooting you a grin and a wink as he passes by. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs. “Remember?”

Of course you do. You remember like it was yesterday—because, well, it was yesterday and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. You remember the moment you shared at the beach and the way his hand felt so right wrapped around your own. You remember the way you’d dropped to your knees for him so readily in the shower last night. And you definitely remember the way he’d fucked you afterward—slow and deep in the best possible way, even with your brother’s untimely interruption.

After what feels like an eternity, both cars are finally packed and ready to go. You bid goodbye to the boys who are riding with Jimin, promising to stay in touch, before climbing into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s beat-up sedan. Jungkook himself is already lounging behind the wheel, his sunglasses perched low on his nose as he fiddles with his phone. He looks up at your entrance and flashes you a smile, tapping his screen a few more times before holding it up so you can see.

“I changed your contact photo,” he says. “Like it?”

You peer at his phone, and something in your chest clenches when you see the photo he’s selected. You’re on the beach beside the volleyball net, illuminated by the setting sun. The sky is streaked through with pink and orange behind you, but through some editing magic, Jungkook has made it so that you are glowing even brighter in the foreground—with laughter etched across your face and the wind in your hair. It’s a beautiful photograph, and you tell him so, unable to contain the dangerously warm affection blossoming in your chest.

“I love it,” you say. “I usually don’t like having my photo taken, but wow. You have a talent for this.”

Jungkook’s smile grows. “I have a pretty muse,” he replies, and your cheeks warm.

The door to the backseat opens with a bang, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden sound. “Yo,” Yugyeom says, plopping down and buckling his seatbelt. “We ready to roll?”

Jungkook scowls and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Careful with the door, man. I need this thing to last through the summer.”

Yugyeom puts his hands up in apology, and Jungkook turns back to face the front, starting the ignition with a flick of his wrist. The engine sputters to life, and Jungkook waits for Jimin to pull out first before following after him, tailing the van out of the driveway and onto the winding road that will take you back into the city.

“Music?” you ask, gesturing at the stereo.

“Go for it,” Jungkook replies. “You want my phone so you can put on the roadtrip mix?”

“Sure.”

With the help of the upbeat music and Jungkook’s tendency to drive just a touch over the speed limit, you make it to the winding roads of Yugyeom’s neighborhood in what must be record time. “You missed the turn,” Yugyeom says lazily from where he’s sprawled across the entire backseat. “Turn left here—we can circle around and approach from the other side.”

Two more turns and a descent down a steep hill later, Jungkook manages to successfully drop Yugyeom off at his house. The drive across town takes no time at all, and before long, you’re cruising into your neighborhood, coasting past Jungkook’s driveway and straight into yours.

“Looks like we beat Jimin back,” you remark, looking at the empty spot where the van usually sits.

Jungkook hums. “Makes sense. He has more people to drop off.”

“Mm. Yeah.”

The sudden awkwardness that falls doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Clearing your throat, you reach for your purse, grabbing it from where it’s fallen to the ground near your feet. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” you begin, turning to open the door.

A strong hand wraps around your wrist, forcing you back into your seat. “Is that it?” Jungkook asks, and there’s an edge of something you can’t quite place in his voice. “Are you gonna go back to pretending like there’s nothing between us?”

You shake him free. “There isn’t anything between us,” you whisper. “We’re not on vacation anymore, Jungkook. We’re back home. Back to real life. We can’t do—whatever it is that we’ve been doing.”

“But you’re attracted to me,” Jungkook growls. “You like me. So why do you keep running away?”

A sigh escapes you. “Jungkook, it doesn’t matter if I like you or no—”

He interrupts before you can even finish your sentence. “Yes it does. It’s the only thing that matters.” And then he’s pulling you into his chest, taking advantage of your skewed sense of balance, and crushing his mouth to yours.

This kiss is different from the others you’ve shared so far. It’s hungry and passionate, and yet it’s tinged with something else—something that feels strangely akin to desperation. Jungkook kisses you with urgency, and it’s so raw and unbridled that it steals the very breath from your lungs and leaves you lightheaded.

Jungkook doesn’t say a word when he pulls away. Instead, he reaches down, popping the handle that opens the trunk and stepping out to pull your suitcase from within. Silently, he presses the handle into your hand.

And then he’s turning—climbing back into his car and leaving you with nothing but the memory of his lips and a whirlwind of thoughts in your mind.

[trekkiepirate]

Master of All

My Witcher Secret Santa gift for @motionalocean! @thewitchersecretsanta

Crossposted to AO3 HERE

nearly 9.2K of BAMF!Jaskier and Geralt being progressively more smitten. 5 Times Jaskier Is Good At Things Geralt Didn't Expect And The 1 Thing He Knew Jaskier Was Good At. PG-13 for bad words, canon-typical violence, and the +1 Under cut because it’s hella long.

1. Pickpocketing

“Well,” Jaskier huffed, “I sincerely hope you missed one of those ghouls and they come back and eat this whole rotten village. Starting with that alderman. No, starting with his appalling son who has the AUDACITY to claim he was a better singer than me. My gods, Geralt, I don’t even think I’ll complain of the lack of a roof and a bed this evening. Sleeping under the stars with my very dear friend-“

“-not friends,” Geralt huffed.

The interruption entirely ignored by Jaskier. “-who is twice, thrice, no no no ten, a hundred, a THOUSAND times the man that they could ever dream of being. Asking a man-“

“-not a man,” Geralt said, expecting, correctly, Jaskier would ignore this comment too.

Jaskier, instead, whirled and looked at Geralt like he had punched him. Actually, he looked more upset than when Geralt has, in fact, punched him. “Of course you’re a man.” Jaskier tilted his head. “Well, I cannot say for certain as I have not yet seen you… in a state of undress. Though not that the having of a penis makes one a man. It’s more about your own identity-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed, sliding two now-skinned hares onto sticks over the fire.

“You’re a man because that’s who you tell the world you are.”

“I don’t.”

It seemed only every other sentence was going to get through Jaskier’s tirades as he stopped speaking.

For a few blissful seconds. “Geralt,” Jaskier put his hands on his hips, voice exasperated as if he were a teacher who expected better of his pupil. “Geralt,” he said again, “you are the best man I have ever met. Smarter than any scholar, kinder than any priest, more noble than any titled twat.”

Geralt blinked. Jaskier seemed so sincere. “We’ve just met.”

“Right, well, we’ve actually been traveling together for four months, but I imagine time feels different when you’re basically immortal, so we’ll let that slide.”

A frown twisted Geralt’s face. “You’re young. You can’t have met that many people.”

Jaskier pursed his lips and put on what he called his Viscount voice. Though why he’d pretend to be a Viscount was beyond Geralt. “I studied for years at the most prestigious and widely attended university on the Continent. I have met plenty of people, Geralt. And you are still the best one I know.”

Geralt hmmed. “Your good opinion won’t buy us a roof and a bed.”

A grin like a succubus, pretty and dangerous, spread over Jaskier’s face. He reached into his trousers and produced a bag of coins. “It might do.”

The same bag of coins that the alderman had refused to give Geralt after he cleared a nest of ghouls from a field. He’d taken three crowns and told Geralt that it couldn’t be worth the whole bag if it only took him an hour.

As it was, most of that hour was building the bomb he’d need to destroy the nest. The ghouls had been sated by feeding on villagers who’d tried to kill them and were slow.

“Where-” Geralt shook his head, he knew the answer to that one. “How?”

Jaskier tossed the bag in the air and caught it. He continued doing so as he spoke. “Remember when I gestured around his, frankly gaudy and most certainly fake, prized vase?”

Geralt stared at the boy. “You distracted him by making him think you might break his vase and then stole his coin out of his pocket.”

“Exactly! Really it’s his fault for so blatantly putting the coin away while looking down his nose at you.” Jaskier grinned bright and extracted one coin from the bag before handing it to Geralt.

“Thief’s fee?” Geralt nodded at the coin.

Jaskier’s smile got even more mischievous. He balanced the coin on his thumb, then flicked it.

It hit Geralt in the chest and fell into his lap.

“Well, tossing a coin is the chorus of the song anyway,” he winked, then spun around, grabbing a cooked hare and blowing on it before taking a large bite. “They’ll see,” he said as he chewed, “my song will become a hit! ‘Toss a Coin’ will be sung the entire length and breadth of the Continent and men like that will be the pariahs, the outcasts. Anyone who denigrates a witcher will be spit upon in the streets. See how they like that!” Jaskier’s next bite was near savage, tearing the meat from the bone. But the next moment, he grinned over the fire at Geralt. “And until it does become a hit and you are lauded as the hero you are, and don’t say you’re not a hero, I see your mouth opening and you can very well shut it again for all the credence I’m going to give you saying you’re not a hero.” He gestured wildly with his hare, grease dripping slowly down his hand and forearm, on display since he’d rolled up the sleeves as his chemise on such a warm night.

Geralt found his next breath a little harder to take as he stared at the bare forearm. He hmmed and took up his own meal.

“So until that day, I will gladly make sure you are properly paid for your work,” he waggled the fingers of his left hand at Geralt. “One way or another.”

“Don’t get caught,” Geralt said. “I won’t break you out of any jail cell you land in.”

Jaskier laughed. “That is a bald-faced lie. You did the exact thing two towns ago and that wasn’t even me risking my freedom and safety for you to be given all you deserve.”

Geralt looked up at Jaskier, then quickly back to his hare when he found the expression on Jaskier’s face too… too much like something warm settling in his stomach. He ate the rest of the hare as fast as he could.

No one had ever said Geralt deserved anything. Not anything nice, anyway. But Jaskier seemed to think that Geralt was a kind of hero in a tale and wanted him to be treated as such.

Fool’s errand, he thought. Jaskier was young and didn’t know how the world worked outside of the high walls of a university. He’d learn. Until then…

“Fine.”

Having gone back to eating, Jaskier was silent for a moment as if trying to recall where the conversation was picking up from. “What’s fine? Oh! Me stealing when people refuse to pay you your just wage. Of course it’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head for a moment; I’ve never been caught yet.” He waggled his fingers in Geralt’s direction. “Dexterity is name of the game when one spends one’s life dedicated to possibly the most delicate and finnicky instrument known to man.” He looked down at his gifted elven lute like it was his flesh and blood child, so loving and soft.

When he raised his head and looked at Geralt, his adoring expression didn’t change in the least.

Geralt cleared his throat and threw the hareless stick onto the fire. ‘Go to sleep, Jaskier.”

A few more large bites and Jaskier did as he was told, snuggling into his bedroll. Which Geralt had bought him when Jaskier proved that no amount of silence or disinterest would keep him from staying at Geralt’s side, praising every deed in song. He picked up the bag of coin and wandered over to Roach to tuck it safely in her saddlebag.

The horse nickered softly and seemed to throw her head repeatedly in Jaskier’s direction.

“Don’t get attached,” Geralt scolded.

Roach tilted her head in Jaskier’s direction and kept it there.

Geralt sighed and whispered into the still night air. “Thank you, Jaskier.” He patted Roach, now seemingly satisfied, and made his way to his own bedroll, set a bit behind Jaskier’s so the bard was close to the warm fire and that anything that leapt at them from the woods would have to get through Geralt before it could get to Jaskier.

He laid there, thinking about how quickly making sure the boy warm and safe had become a priority.

2. Knowing Who The Nobles Are Everywhere They Go

“Nope,” Jaskier plucked the sun-faded paper from Geralt’s hand, ignoring Geralt’s exasperated expression. “Oh no, no, no, no. Nope, you will not be taking this. Well, you will not be taking this contract with Duke Hereward. He’s an absolute bastard and will quite surely stiff you of your deserved coin. No, we’d best find where,” he squinted at the ink, “Meadwood Farms is and go straight to the farmers themselves. Hereward will weasel his weasely way out of giving you anything. I’d gladly steal anything he might have of worth-“

Geralt glanced around, hoping no one who worked for the Duke was listening, as Jaskier did not seem to understand what the word ‘discretion’ meant.

“-alas the double-edged sword of fame means if something were to go mysteriously but deservedly missing after we took our leave, I’d find my lovely new position as a professor at Oxenfurt suddenly taken from me.” He smiled at Geralt. “I need something to do during the winter while you hide away in your Witchery mountains to do… mountainous Witchery things.”

Suppressing the urge to smile, Geralt nodded towards the inn. “I’m sure someone will know who owns the farm in there.”

Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm and began to drag him (well, steer him as if Geralt had truly not wanted to be led, there was no way the boy, barely into his twenties, could move him) towards the inn. “Good people of Ellander!”

“Jaskier,” Geralt nearly rolled his eyes.

“Your prayers to the Great Meletile have been answered,” Jaskier continued. “Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf himself, has come to aid you with your monster problems. Merely point us to Meadwood Farms and you shall soon see why Geralt is the hero of the Continent.”

Geralt was strangely glad his body no longer had the ability to blush. Jaskier’s absolute faith in Geralt was steadfast and it made something heavy and warm settle in Geralt’s chest. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be able to feel this way, to be so… cared about.

A pretty-eyed maiden made her way over to them. She smiled brightly at Jaskier. “I work at the farm. I’d be ever so glad to lead you… and the witcher there.”

The eye rolling couldn’t be controlled this time, as Jaskier immediately brightened under her attentions. “Well lead on, good miss. I presume it’s miss?”

“It is,” she giggled.

Geralt was rather glad they barely paid any heed to him as they flirted their way across town to the countryside. “What is it?” Geralt eventually asked.

Both Jaskier and the young woman, Elzbet apparently, startled as if they’d forgotten Geralt was still there. They probably had.

“The monster,” Geralt clarification. “What is it?”

Elzbet shrugged. “I didn’t see it. I do not know. Master Prospero was the one who saw it. He’s in the big house.”

Jaskier grinned. “Yes, yes, Geralt head up to see Master Prospero. Elzbet has promised to show me a most charming little corner of the barn. Apparently, there’s an owl’s nest there.”

Geralt would turn over every coin he received for the contract if there was actually an owl’s nest anywhere in the barn. All Jaskier was likely to see was up the girl’s skirts. Stomping away with a little more force than he probably needed to use, Geralt found the farm owner and got the information he needed.

It was a nest of nekkars and Geralt has cleared them all out by that night. The reward scraped together by the workers was only a third of what Hereward had promised, but it was given in gratitude and with open hands. Prospero himself was so grateful, he offered Geralt and Jaskier a room in his home for the night, as well as their dinner that night and breakfast the next morning.

Jaskier spent most of the night trying to find a suitably dirty rhyme he approved of for owl.

“Howl. Or yowl, which I will make you do if you do not put that candle out.” Geralt said at last.

“Oh you,” Jaskier tsked as he quickly scribbled down a few more lines. “You know what that Witchery magic does to me.” He winked.

Geralt buried his head further into the pillow. “Didn’t get enough with your farm girl?”

Jaskier gasped, affronted. “Excuse you, Elzbet is more than a farm girl, she is the love of my life.” He sighed dreamily. “I might stay, you know. With her.”

“Better her than me,” Geralt grumbled.

“I know you don’t truly mean those words or I’d be heartbroken beyond repair to hear you say that,” Jaskier shrugged out of his doublet and pinched out the candle flame between his licked fingers. “But what if I did? Stay?”

Geralt huffed. “You’d make a piss poor farmer.”

Jaskier laughed lightly. “Probably true.” He sighed. “Would you miss me?”

“Go to sleep, Jaskier,” Geralt said in lieu of an actual answer. “If you’re to be a farmer, you must get used to early mornings.”

Humming thoughtfully, Jaskier settled down, the line of his back just an inch away from Geralt’s in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”

In the morning, Jaskier packed and took his place at Geralt’s side. He tried out lyrics and chords and by the time he and Geralt made camp that night, Jaskier had a new ballad. It was about love between a wanderer and a maiden, whom he loved but left to follow the open road he had long ago promised his heart to, his truest love.

Though he never actually sang the word road, Geralt realized as he watched Jaskier sing it a week later in a tavern. The song itself was called Walking The Path.

3. Gwent

“Dammit,” Geralt growled as he threw down his remaining card. A clear weather was useless when there were no weather cards in effect. The score was tied, but his opponent played with a Nilfgaardian deck and therefore won all ties.

The smarmy git was smiling at him like a smarmy git. “Fair is fair,” he held out a hand, “I’ll be taking your unique card now.”

It was lying next to the card the other man had anted up in the center of the table, but clearly humiliation was part of his winnings.

Geralt picked up the card and dropped it into the other man’s hand. “Here.”

“Better luck next time,” the bastard called out and he gestured another player to take Geralt’s place.

He still had all the coin he’d won, the cards had been the only prizes in that last round, so Geralt went over to the bar and ordered two ales and a glass of wine.

By the time he was picking up the second mug of ale, Jaskier had finished his set and bounded over, downing the wine in one go as always and ordering himself another.

“What’s this face? Is my singing truly that bad? Please know, if you say anything about pie, I will be forced to waste this lovely wine on your rude head.” Geralt grunted. “Singing was fine. Lost my game is all.”

Jaskier tilted his head. “You were winning when I last checked in on you.” He looked at his glass. “Do you need some coin? I got a fair amount tonight, people around here are very anti-Nilfgaard and my lovely little ditty went a treat. You must have heard the cheers.”

Geralt nodded. He had. In between games, he’d kept his eye on Jaskier. The djinn incident was two weeks ago, but this was Jaskier’s first performance since he almost lost his voice. And life.

The bard had been nervous and Geralt hadn’t even started playing gwent until the anxious scent faded into his usual confident burst of sundried linen and mint. The crowd was just as adoring, just as loud as always. Jaskier’s voice hadn’t suffered any permanent damage and Geralt was relieved. After all, his unthinking words had been the reason Geralt had almost lost… that Jaskier had almost lost his voice.

“Not coin,” Geralt said at last, draining his mug. “Lost my best card though. Drew an unlucky hand and couldn’t seem to bring it back around. Ended in a draw, but the bastard played as Nilfgaard so he took the tie.”

Jaskier frowned. “No chance to get it back?”

Geralt shrugged. “He plays here a lot, apparently. Has rules about only one match per opponent.” He shook his head. “Nothing for it.”

Putting down his half full glass, Jaskier nodded. “Right, well then.” He turned and headed towards the tables set up for cards.

“Jaskier?” Geralt blinked at the space the bard had occupied a second ago. “Jaskier?”

Jaskier was already standing in front of the bastard.

Geralt couldn’t remember his name, wasn’t even sure he’d been told who he’d been playing against.

Jaskier’s relaxed ease was gone, instead his shoulders hunched up, making him look for all the world like an angry cat about to take a chunk out of the next person who tried to pet it. “Valdo Marx,” Jaskier hissed out like the very letters of the name offended him.

Huh. Geralt looked at the man who’d defeated him.

Valdo looked up with a beatific smile. “Julian, is that you? I did think I heard your particular brand of empty words and trite notes in that boyish tenor of yours.”

Now no longer just upset about the card, Geralt’s fingers twitched towards his sword. Sure, he’d not exactly complimented Jaskier’s songs recently, but his insult was born of trying to offend the man into shutting up so Geralt could find the damnable djinn and get some fucking sleep.

Which, looking back, was a useless attempt as Jaskier had been drunk and Drunk Jaskier was even more prone to rambling than Sober Jaskier.

“Normally, I’d be quite glad to just punch you in the nose,” Jaskier smirked, “again.”

Taking a closer look, Geralt did notice that Valdo’s nose was slightly crooked. As if broken a few too many times.

“But if seems you have some pretentious rule about not allowing people to win their losings back from you like an honourable gentleman would.” Jaskier crossed his arms. “So I’ll play you for Geralt’s card.”

Valdo blinked blankly. “Geralt?”

Jaskier clucked his tongue as he sat down. “My goodness, you are out of touch. Everyone on the Continent knows I sing of Geralt of Rivia, heroic Witcher of legend and my very best friend in the whole world.”

Geralt didn’t bother to object.

“Then again, you rarely get to leave Cidaris, don’t you?” Jaskier produced his gwent deck and began to shuffle it. “I often wonder how you’d do in a town you didn’t grow up in? But then your father’s money wouldn’t be there to buy you a court position now would it? Has he bought you a title yet?”

Though Jaskier couldn’t see it, perhaps because Jaskier couldn’t see it, Geralt grinned broadly at that.

Valdo grinned back nastily, revealing he had a missing canine tooth as well. “If he did, at least one of us would use their title to make a difference to their homeland. Tell me, Julian,” he laid out his deck and dealt himself a hand, “when did you last visit Lettenhove? Or do you still think wandering amongst the common folk singing dirty songs in dirty taverns is the proper way a viscount should behave? Whatever would your mother day?”

Geralt watched Jaskier’s grip on his own hand tighten, just slightly. “Just play, Marx.”

Huh. Apparently Jaskier wasn’t making the whole viscount thing up.

“Oh now now,” Valdo laid down his hand, “we haven’t set terms yet. You want the Witcher’s card, right? This one,” he picked it up and flipped it along the back of his hand. “But what will you bet? I never play for anything as gauche as coin. Some of us get wages, not a handful of coins in a dusty lute case. Actually,” Valdo leaned forward, “that’s what we’ll play for. Your pretty lute. See if you can perform in royal courts without your maaaagical little instrument.”

“No.”

Jaskier and Valdo both snapped their attention to Geralt.

“No,” he repeated. Jaskier’s lute was his livelihood, his most precious possession. Geralt wanted his card back, but not at that price. Jaskier was a clever player, Geralt knew, but Valdo’s deck was evil, full of spies and scorch cards. “Not the lute. Choose something else.”

Valdo shook his head. “Don’t think I will,” he turned back to Jaskier. “You bet your lute or I walk away and your witcher never sees his card again.”

Geralt put a hand out to grab Jaskier’s shoulder and urge him up to their room, but Jaskier just nodded. “It’s a bet. Play, Marx.”

Worry came over Geralt and he found himself pacing behind Jaskier, trying not to look at his cards because then he’d know if Jaskier had a good hand and if he didn’t…

If Jaskier lost his lute, he’d be crushed. Geralt would buy him another; he’d have to. But to lose the lute Filavandrel had given him… Jaskier always said it brought him luck, sounded sweeter than all others, even when slightly out of tune.

“It will always remind me of the day my life changed forever,” he’d smile at it, then at Geralt.

Geralt still hadn’t worked out whether he meant the day he wrote the song that made him famous or the day he learned the world was much more complicated than his human-written studies might have led him to believe.

Geralt watched as Jaskier’s hand dwindled to two cards.

Valdo still had half a dozen.

It was the last hand; both had won a turn and this would decide the winner.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Geralt closed his eyes and leaned back, trying to meditate or at least clear his mind. He still had his winnings from the other matches he’d played tonight. He had no idea how much a lute cost, but he’s fairly sure he’d be able to cover it. Did this town even have a shop that might carry one? It was only just inside the borders of Cidaris, not a particularly large village now that Geralt thought about it.

“You,” he heard a hiss, “cheated.”

Jaskier was smiling. “I did no such thing. I merely used your same tactics against you.” He held out a hand. “The card. Unless you’d like to try and win it back?”

Valdo spit out some words in Elder as he threw the card at Jaskier and stomped out like a petulant child.

Geralt was rusty and only caught every few words. Something about Jaskier’s bedroom habits and something else about being a pathetic, he thinks the word was supposed to mean hound or something like that. One phrase that Geralt did catch, as he’d heard it assigned to him once or twice before translated to ‘unlovable’.

Jaskier sat frozen through the tirade and when Geralt rounded the table, he found Jaskier’s eyes to be far more full of wrath and pain than it ought to for someone who had just won a game against a rival.

His face schooled into a triumphant grin, though there was still a sheen of sadness in his eyes. “Your card, Geralt.”

Geralt took it gently, sliding out his deck into order to tuck it away. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, if I lost I was thinking of just stabbing him and making a run for it,” Jaskier waved a hand.

“It’s not that important,” Geralt insisted, ten minutes later as they readied for bed. “It wasn’t worth risking your lute. If you’d lost it. It’s more precious to you than everything, else you’ve said so yourself.”

Jaskier looked up from folding his doublet and smiled, not his cheeky performance grins but a small, genuine thing. “Not everything. Now,” he sat on the edge of the bed and tugged off his boots, “may I see the card I won from Marx in what is going to be immortalized into an incredibly epic song as soon as I come up with a rhyme for ‘thrice broken nose’?”

Geralt took it out and handed it over.

It was a fairly new card for the Northern Kingdoms deck. An ashen haired little girl pouted in a frilly pink dress, clearly displeased at being painted.

“Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Princess of Cintra,” Jaskier read. He handed back the card but his hand hovered, as if he might reach out for Geralt’s shoulder or even his cheek. “Yes, this is something worth taking a risk for, no question. …15 points and all,” he said after a moment, when he realized Geralt wasn’t responded. “Course I missed the opportunity of stabbing Marx, but I’ve no doubt the chance will arise again someday.” He laid down and stared at the ceiling.

“Jaskier,” Geralt began, finding his words dry up when those beautiful (when did he start thinking of Jaskier’s eyes as beautiful?) blue eyes blinked up at him. “I… th- you played well.”

A pleased and nearly shy look came over Jaskier’s face. “I know how much you enjoy it. Just wanted to be sure I’d be a worthy opponent for you, dearest witcher.” He stared at Geralt a moment longer, as if looking for something in his face. He shook his head slightly as if coming out of a dream. “Goodnight, Geralt.” Jaskier turned and faced the wall.

“Hmm,” Geralt hummed as he laid down, facing the opposite wall. “Goodnight. Jaskier.”

4. Sailing

Geralt surveyed the people sitting around the table and frowned to notice one missing. “Where’s Jaskier?”

“Went fishing,” Eskel said off hand, jumping right back into his conversation with Coën.

“He what?”

Lambert looked up from his gwent match with Ciri, “He took my boat and went fishing. Said he wouldn’t be much help in a hunt, but this way he wouldn’t be and I quote, ‘useless’ and he could be a ‘worthy winter companion’.”

Geralt winced. He’d apologized for his harsh words on the mountain and Jaskier had forgiven him. But it seems some of the hurt from that day still lingered.

“Where did he go?”

Eskel and Lambert exchanged a look.

“I don’t know his coordinates,” Lambert answered.

“Dammit!” Geralt barely kept himself from hitting the table; he didn’t want to scare Ciri, who had put her cards down and was watching the scene with interest. “You know what’s out there. Drowners and bears and I’m not sure we entirely destroyed that harpy nest from last winter and-“

“And he assured us he could handle it,” Eskel said.

Geralt growled. “He’s human! He could get hurt.”

Coën piped up at last. “Jaskier went north from the lakeside hut.” When all eyes turned to him, Coën shrugged, “He wanted to know where the good fishing spots are. I told him.”

Spinning on his heel, Geralt headed for the door to the keep, grabbing a silver sword from a rack of them on the way. He had a location and a direction. He could pick up Jaskier’s scent from there.

Geralt hadn’t bothered to grab a coat and the winter winds bit through his leather and linen clothes almost immediately. It didn’t matter. Jaskier had been alone in the wilds for who knows how long and even without the monsters and the beasts, there were dangers. The bard could overbalance and tumble into the icy waters. What if he hadn’t thought to grab warmer clothes? Geralt picked up speed, wishing he’d thought to bring Roach. Wishing he’d thought about anything other than running to get to Jaskier and…

And he wasn’t sure what would happen after. He just… needed to know that Jaskier was all right. That he was safe. He hadn’t been safe, Geralt sighed to himself as he ran, after Geralt had snapped at him.

Geralt was sure it was just another spat; that he’d arrive back at camp and Jaskier would be there very pointedly writing a song about a heartless cad who was mean to his very best friend in the whole wide world. Jaskier had a good half dozen songs like it already, this would be one more.

Only he wasn’t there. Geralt arrived to find Roach eating the last of the apples Jaskier had packed just for her and giving Geralt a very judgmental look. “Leave off,” he growled at her as he packed up what was left and led her down the mountain. “We’ll pick him up in town and you two can whisper about how mean I am.”

But Jaskier wasn’t in town either. Nor could anyone say which way he went. Geralt cursed then like he cursed now, seeing the roof of the hut by the lake and yet no sign of Jaskier.

Bad things happened when Jaskier went off alone. Geralt shook his head to rid himself of the image of Jaskier, strung up by his hands, those beautiful talented livelihood-making hands threatened and Jaskier said nothing, gave no secrets away. Some because he didn’t know and some because he…

Geralt doesn’t know why Jaskier didn’t break, except he does. The man is brave, he’s stupid and criminally loud, but he is also the most loyal man Geralt has ever known. Steel dressed in silk.

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Geralt picked up Jaskier’s scent. It’s his soap and sweat and Geralt knows it like he knows his own.

Jaskier has the only boat and Geralt doesn’t fancy a swim, so he sticks to the shoreline, eyes casting about for any signs of danger or Jaskier.

Geralt very specifically tries to avoid thinking about danger AND Jaskier, which means that is all his brain will show him. Images of Jaskier surrounded by drowners, of a boat floating listlessly because the man at the rudder had been torn to pieces by harpies, a bear raising its blood-covered maw with a scrap of bright fabric caught in its teeth.

The last thing he’s thinking is that he will come upon Jaskier peacefully hauling a net of fish into the boat, adding the larger ones to a bucket next to him. So of course, that’s how the story goes.

“Geralt?” Jaskier called, eyes as round and surprised as the fish wriggling its last throes in his hands. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is everyone okay?”

Jaskier dropped the net thoughtlessly onto the boat’s hull and with a series of quick and efficient movements, had the boat floating over to where Geralt stood on the shore. The bard hopped over the side and hurried to Geralt, hands twitching as if he wanted to check the witcher over for any injuries. “Geralt?”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

A frown coming to rest on his face, Jaskier put his hands on his slim hips. “What was I thinking? What were you thinking? You’re going to catch your death without a coat, yes I know,” he said as Geralt opened his mouth, “witchers can’t catch colds, immune systems, mutagens, blah blah,” he went back to the boat and finished sorting the fish, “blah. What could possibly have happened that you hurried all the way from Kaer Morhen without so much as a single piece of armour or a cloak?” He turned, suddenly serious. “Is everyone all right? Is Ciri all right? She’s not ill, is she? Did she take a tumble on the training course?”

Touched by how much Jaskier cares about Ciri, despite having known her a relatively short time, Geralt shook his head. “She’s fine. Everyone is fine.”

“Then what in the name of Meletile, Freya and any other four gods you would care to name are you doing here?”

Geralt wished he’d spent less time thinking about the past and more time thinking about the future as he ran. He’s starting to get used to that feeling in general. “You weren’t there.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened, then softened. “Surely someone told you I’d gone fishing? I let everyone know. I didn’t,” he smiled sardonically, “think you’d even notice.”

“Why?”

Head tilted like a puppy, Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Why did I go fishing or why did I think you wouldn’t notice? I went fishing because everyone does something at Kaer Morhen. I don’t,” he sighed, “have anything but music to offer and I’m well aware of your opinions on that. I assume your fellow witchers share them and also your witcher hearing, hence my lute case gathers dust. I do, however, know how to sail a boat, catch some fish, and cook said fish. So I thought I would make myself useful. As for you not noticing, well, I’m hardly your first priority here and,” he quickly added, “I understand completely. I shouldn’t be. Ciri comes first, always, of course. Hell, I wasn’t your first priority when we traveled together. Roach was. Speaking of, where is she? You couldn’t have tied her up too far away now.” Jaskier looked at the tree line as if a large mare would suddenly appear.

“I… didn’t bring her,” Geralt said, shame slowly rising in him at Jaskier’s words. Geralt couldn’t refute any of them. He hadn’t noticed the lack of music, assuming Jaskier still played in his room. As for when they travelled together, it hurt deep in Geralt’s gut that Jaskier thought he wasn’t a priority to Geralt. His words were often harsh, but Geralt made sure Jaskier had enough food and hunted more to ensure that he would. He bought Jaskier a warmer, if less stylish, cloak that had seen the bard through most of his twenties.

Jaskier had hefted a bucket of fish in his arms and just stared blankly at Geralt. “You… didn’t bring Roach? You, what, walked all the way here?”

Geralt’s eye twitched. “I ran.”

“For Meletile’s sake, why?”

“There’s…” Geralt cleared his throat, “drowners around. Sometimes. And bears. There might be some harpies left over from a nest we destroyed last winter.”

Jaskier settled the bucket back into the boat. “Were you… worried about me?”

Geralt nodded. Words were awkward and he wished to use as few as possible.

A look not unlike something like wonder crossed Jaskier’s face. “Oh. I… oh. I’m,” he spread his arms as if presenting himself, “fine. As you see. I… guess we should head back.” He gestured towards the boat. “I’ve a decently sized haul. I can make use of this for a while.” Jaskier stood in the shallow water, “Climb on in, and I’ll take us back.”

Geralt didn’t move.

“Oh,” Jaskier looked abashed. “Unless you’d prefer to steer?”

“No,” Geralt shook his head. “You can steer.”

He could. As Geralt had seen, Jaskier clearly knew his way not only around fishery, but sailing.

Jaskier nodded again to the boat and Geralt stepped in, settling at the bow.

Proving him right, Jaskier shoved them into the water and hauled himself over the side, quickly settling at the rudder and turning them around to head back towards Kaer Morhen.

Geralt cast a glance into the bucket of fish, seeing a few other smaller ones surrounding it. Several fish stared unblinkingly at Geralt as he stared back.

Jaskier hummed then cut himself off when he realized he was doing so, with a nervous glance at Geralt.

He wanted to say something. Tell Jaskier the humming was fine with him. That he should get out his lute and play for them. That Geralt wanted to hear his music, his voice. That the fillingless pie comment all those years ago hadn’t been a slight to Jaskier’s singing but the content of his songs, so many full of dirty humour or exaggerated lies.

All he could manage was “You sail good.”

Staring just as wide-eyed and unblinking as the fish, Jaskier slowly said, “Thank… you… I, uh,” he looked back at the water, “grew up on the coast. Been sailing since I was strong enough to move a rudder. Fishing even longer.”

“Why didn’t you fish that day? You could have caught your own.” Geralt winced as his words were said. Jaskier wasn’t focusing on that day with the djinn. He’d need to be specific.

But Jaskier was already answering, “I was heartbroken and near blind drunk,” he laughed, light and slightly forced. “I’d have fallen in as soon as I bent over to grab the net, hence why I was hoping you would share your haul.” He pursed his lips. “Rather wish I hadn’t, looking back.”

Geralt found himself stuck for words again. They came easy with his brothers in arms. Even with Ciri, he found himself managing to find words of comfort or encouragement when it seemed she needed them.

But Jaskier had always made things complicated for Geralt, since the day they’d met. He could annoy Geralt like nobody and nothing else; Jaskier got himself into trouble on a fairly regular basis, was fussy about his clothes and hair, and could talk the hind legs off a donkey while never saying a blessed thing of worth.

But damn if Geralt didn’t want him there, in all his messy and loud glory. He wanted Jaskier safe and, as recent events had shown, Jaskier was safest at Geralt’s side, because Geralt would move heaven and earth, call upon any help and damn the cost, to keep Jaskier so.

Geralt was in love with Jaskier. The revelation felt both sudden and slow at once. Like he’d been falling in love so quietly and steadily, there was no way to point to the day or hour that he’d actually fallen.

“Fuck.”

Jaskier, lost in daydreams, started. “What’s the matter now?”

“I,” Geralt scrambled for something to say. Should he tell Jaskier he loved him? No, that was absurd. Jaskier, for all his lingering stares and the near constant scent of lust that used to surround him, didn’t love Geralt as more than a friend, if that. Lust was not love, Geralt knew that well. He was with him for the songs and the safety. Sure, Jaskier cared for Geralt, he said it often enough, but he didn’t love him. Like how Geralt was realizing he loved Jaskier.

Who was staring at him expectantly.

At least this time, Geralt kept his annoyed at himself ‘fuck’ inside his head. “I was thinking of all the times we could have taken the river, instead of the roads.” He found words, though he wasn’t sure they were the right ones. “If I’d known you could sail. We could have… sailed. Before now.”

Jaskier dropped his eyes to the bottom of the boat, then turned away as if needing to check where he was going, as if he hadn’t been steering blind for the past several minutes, instinctive. “Ah. I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you. Though we weren’t often by the,” a slight hesitation, “the coast.”

“You’re doing very well.” Geralt twitched his lips into as big a smile as he could manage and still felt it came up short.

But Jaskier’s visible cheek rose in a smile. “Thank you, Geralt.”

5. Sword Fighting

A whirl of light green and silver flashed from Geralt’s side, a movement near dancelike in its fluidity, accompanied by a whisper that sounded almost like counting.

Geralt turned just in time to see the bandit’s surprised face before his cleaved straight through torso fell, leaving the remains of his trunk and his lower body to fall to the ground a couple seconds after his head and shoulders had.

Jaskier stood behind the now deceased bandit, blood splattered all over his outfit and his face, still twisted into a mask of wrath. The sword in his hand was red with blood, silver glinting through the drops.

Geralt thinks it’s possible he has never been so turned on in his whole life and he’s going to have a good long talk with himself about why that might be later on.

The moment passed and Jaskier lowered the sword, wiping it on the deserter’s trousers. “Oh blast, sorry about that Geralt, I’ll clean all the blood off properly once we get back to camp. No worries. I know it’s silver for monsters,” he sneered at the dead man and then at the others who had foolishly decided to try to rob a witcher and his companion, “but I rather think it’s still apt. I’ll pay for the repair at the next blacksmith we come across if I damaged it too much.” He held the blade at eye level and examined it. “I think it’s mostly all right and Geralt are you okay? They didn’t manage to knock you in the head, did they? You’ve been staring at me for the past few minutes.”

Geralt was trying to sear the image of Jaskier looking over the blade as if, as if he KNOWS what to look for in a damaged sword. A sword he had used to kill a man creeping up on Geralt. A sword he had welded with deadly and graceful precision. Geralt’s own sword.

A very, very long talk. Possibly in the cold stream they’d just come from before they’d been ambushed.

Jaskier leaned past Geralt to sheathe the sword into its place across the witcher’s back and the spicy smell of anger had dissipated completely into Jaskier’s usual chamomile and honey concern scent. Underlaid by the copper of the blood.

It took a good deal of self-discipline for Geralt to not outright whine when Jaskier laid a warm hand on his cheek, tilting his head to check for injuries.

“Your pupils are very round, darling,” Jaskier said, the endearment he used so often sounded like music to Geralt. “Are you injured? I could grab you a potion if you are. Or maybe you’re just tired.” Jaskier dropped his hand and turned back to where they had laid down their belongings when the first men broke through the cover of the trees, using speed and surprise over strategy.

Geralt was sure he’d had them all until… until Jaskier killed the man who had managed to sneak up on him. Who would have put a sword through Geralt if not for Jaskier’s quick action and Geralt circled back to the image of Jaskier, bloody and snarling like a feral animal as he cut the man down with no hesitation.

A very, very long talk in a very, very cold stream.

Jaskier whistled and Roach came from her hiding spot in the trees. He patted her neck and dug through her saddlebags. “Geralt, are you out of Swallow? We have the spirit and the celandine but I think we might need to head towards the coast so you can cut down some drowners for their brains.” He smiled brightly. “Maybe they’ll be a contract for them as well. And a tavern that appreciates fine music. We could have a va- a very nice day. Or two.” Jaskier ducked his head and pink bloomed in his cheeks.

Geralt found his hand lifting of its own accord and landing on Jaskier’s shoulder.

The bard turned expectantly, then frowned when after a moment Geralt didn’t say or do anything else. “Geralt?” His voice was soft, the scent of his concern drew stronger. “Geralt, are you sure you’re okay? You seem stunned or something. Are you sure you didn’t take a hit to the head?”

“Sword,” Geralt said at last.

“He speaks,” Jaskier smiled briefly. “He speaks nonsense, but he speaks. What about a sword? I already told you I’d take care of any repairs needed after my impromptu maneuver. I don’t think there’s any permanent damage done. It wasn’t even that difficult. You have very good moves, dear.”

Geralt blinked as he realized where he’d seen the move Jaskier had performed. It was one he’d been taught at the School of The Wolf. Jaskier used one of Geralt’s own moves. One of his Witcher moves. To save his life. “That was… that was a witcher move. How did you…” he couldn’t even finish his question.

Jaskier shrugged. “I’ve followed you for over two decades, Geralt. On and off, sure, but still. I’ve seen you fight nearly every creature you could come across. Including bastards like those,” he nonchalantly tossed his head towards the dead men on the ground, his fringe flicking back into his eyes boyishly. “I memorized the moves you use. Granted, I’ve mostly practiced on training dummies and sparring partners, but I’ve run across my fair share of evil and desperate men before.”

“That… wasn’t your first kill?”

“Gods no,” Jaskier tilted his head and scrunched up his nose as he calculated. “Maybe my… dozenth? Or so. Now I tried not to pick up a sword unless necessary but that gutless bastard,” he spit at the man’s bisected body, “was in your blind spot. You probably would have managed to parry, but I didn’t want to take the chance.” Jaskier smiled. “Good thing too, now that we know you’re out of Swallow. Here,” he held out a canteen of water, “drink this. Get your strength back.”

Geralt took the canteen and drank slowly to give himself time to readjust his worldview on Jaskier. “Did you… count? When you were…”

Jaskier nodded. “Oh yes. Your movements are so like a dancer’s that I memorized them to a beat.” He smirked. “I’ll make a ballad out of them some day. I’m still in the habit of the counting, but eventually I’ll stop needing that, I suppose.”

“Right,” Geralt said, nodding as if he wasn’t imaging Jaskier, in plain shirt and tight trousers, sparring with Geralt on the grounds of Kaer Morhen. A blink and it was a different kind of sparring. In a bedroom. “Huh.”

“Well,” Jaskier said, as he dug back through the saddlebag, “there’s some White Raffard’s if push comes to shove. Makes sense after that last nest of nekkars. Frightful creatures by the way, possibly my least favourite of them all. Though you’re low on White Honey as well, so hopefully we can find a herbalist and stock up a bit before you have to do any major fighting. ”I’m glad now that I all but raided Oxenfurt’s gardens before I joined you for Spring. Got plenty of honeysuckle in my bag and I’m sure we can find some white myrtle with no problem this time of year. Where’s your alcohest, dear? I’m sure Lambert didn’t let you leave Kaer Morhen without every type of spirit known to man.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, unable to take it anymore. “We need to get back to camp.”

Jaskier whirled around and looked at Geralt then up at the sky, the sun slowly descending in the late afternoon light. “Oh you’re right. Best head back now before we lose the light. Pity we had to have that fight after the nice splash we’d had in that stream. Do you think there’s time to wash again before we head back?”

Geralt nodded. “Yes. Let’s do that first, getting clean again. That’s a very, very good idea.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier hummed, “I didn’t expect that answer from Mr Uses Monster Guts As Shampoo.”

“We’re going to need to get very clean,” Geralt said, “because as soon as we get back to camp I am going to fuck you.”

Jaskier froze. “Whaaaat did you just say? Geralt, I think I misheard you.”

Geralt shrugged. “Or you can fuck me. After seeing you fight like that, I’m letting you choose how we do it.”

“Seeing me fight.” Jaskier opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find which of the many words he had at his disposal he wished to use.

“Or I could just suck you off, if you’d prefer that instead.”

“Geralt of Rivia. Geralt… Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde and I have never been more grateful for the night Vesemir got drunk and shared stories of your youth, I need you to be very, very serious about that offer.” Jaskier licked his lips. “Because I would very much like to take you up on it and if… if it’s just for the night, I don’t rightly think we should risk our… ye gods, you’ve never even called me your friend and here you are offering sex as if… is this just because you feel obligated? I’m sure you would have moved just in time but I couldn’t risk letting that man hurt you and-“

Geralt reached out and pulled Jaskier close, which shut the bard up. A trick Geralt was wishing he’d let himself try before. “I am very serious. If you want it to be for the night, it’s just for the night. It could be a more… formal arrangement if you’d prefer that.”

Jaskier dropped his head to Geralt’s shoulder and breathed out heavily. “I died, didn’t I? I misjudged the distance and the bandit killed me and this is heaven. I didn’t think I’d go to heaven. Huh.”

“Not dead,” Geralt said, lifting a hand to thread through Jaskier’s hair. “Not letting you die. Ever. Especially now that I know how well you fight. You’re living just as long as I am. Don’t know how. I’ll ask Yen, maybe she’ll know of some-“

“Okay,” Jaskier took a step back. “Now, now you’re just being… you want to ask Yennefer, a very very scary witch that you sleep with on the regular-“

Geralt shrugged. “Going to have to stop that now that I have you.”

A high-pitched whine issued from Jaskier’s throat. “I’m going to need you to stop saying things like that if you don’t mean them… how I… ho- expe- think you mean them.”

“I mean them how you think I mean them,” Geralt said. “Most likely. I mean that I would very much like to take you back to our camp and check at least a few things off the mental list of sexual acts we’ve both been compiling right now.”

Jaskier squeaked, “Both?”

Geralt nodded. “I would very much like to do so tomorrow night and for as many nights as you want me. And to extend your allotment of nights somehow. Yennefer has been searching arcane magic things for decades, surely she’s found some anti-ageing or immortality spell by this point. She wouldn’t have needed it, but I’m sure she would have made note of any.”

“Sure she can’t make me younger before she does that?’ Jaskier asked, relying on humour to help him deal with the inrush of information he was being given.

Tilting his head, Geralt looked Jaskier over very thoroughly, noting with some satisfaction what effect his assessing stare had on the state of Jaskier’s trousers. “I like you as you are now. Not the whelp that followed me when It was stupid and dangerous. You’re a grown man now. You’ve filled out. I like how you look.”

Jaskier ran a hand through his hair. “Pardon me if this all seems very sudden.”

“Not sudden,” Geralt said. “I’ve liked how you looked for years.”

“You never said anything.”

Geralt smirked slightly. “I know you’ve lusted for me. I can smell arousal. You never said anything either.”

Jaskier flailed again. “You didn’t consider me your friend, so forgive me for assuming ‘Hey Geralt, you’re the most bloody gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in my whole life would you like to bed me and then marry me’ wouldn’t go down very well.”

“I thought,” Geralt started, “you only wanted to follow me for the songs. For the fame and coin it earns you. It’s why you started following me.”

Struck speechless, Jaskier just stared.

Geralt continued. “I’ve thought of you as my friend, but I didn’t think you thought of me as yours. Until you saved me. Until you learned how I fight in case you ever needed to save me. Until you knew what my potions do and which ones they are. All the little things you’ve done for me throughout the years make sense now. I know friendship. That’s not friendship; it’s love.”

“I have loved you since,” Jaskier waved a hand theatrically, “since you told the elves to let me go. Since you let me stay with you even though you could have outrun me easily on Roach. You hunted enough for two and laid our bedrolls close so I wouldn’t freeze on cold nights and especially after the mountain, you’ve barely let me out of your sight and… oh my gods, I am thick, aren’t I? I am so thick! I am Mr. Thick Thick Thickety Thickface from Thicktown, Thickania. You don’t talk, you do. That was your way of… of… saying how you feel. Isn’t it?”

Geralt hummed and nodded.

Jaskier’s smile could have outshone the lovely sunset happening somewhere behind them. “You love me. Geralt, you… love me. Like I love you. Oh my gods, are you sure I’m not dead? Or having the most wonderful dream? This is real,” he took a step closer and reached out cautiously to pull Geralt into his arms. “This is real, right?”

“It’s real,” Geralt nodded again.

A laugh bubbled out of Jaskier, eliciting a smaller but no less sincere one from Geralt. “If I wasn’t covered in blood, I would be kissing you alre-“

Geralt leaned in and pressed their lips together, relishing the happy gasp Jaskier made against his mouth. “Hmm, I’m bloody too.”

Jaskier kissed Geralt, a small peck and then another. “Where was that stream again?”

Geralt pulled back and took Jaskier’s hand, guiding him in the dimming light. “I won’t be bedding you and then marrying you,” he said.

Confusion scrunched up Jaskier’s face before he realized what he had said before. “Oh bollocks, I didn’t mean that- necessarily- I don’t- where would we find a priest or priestess any- I wasn’t suggesting-”

“We have to have some courting time before we should even think about marrying,” Geralt continued. “it’s only proper.”

“Right,” Jaskier nodded so fast, it was a miracle his head didn’t fly away. “Right, right, right, right. Of course, of course, of course. Proper… proper courting. Geralt?” he asked as they arrived at the stream. “I love you. I just… can I say that now? Because I’ve wanted to say it so many times and I’ve been biting it back for years and I just… I just love you.”

Geralt smiled. “I love you too.”

+1

Wow,” Geralt said, staring up at the ceiling. “That’s how you manage to get away with those abysmal pickup lines. I mean… wow.” His heart was racing so fast it almost sounded human after the passionate, athletic and frankly innovative sex they’d just had. "I always did think it would be good."

He didn’t need to turn to see Jaskier’s smug smile, but he did anyway.

Jaskier’s grin was wide and stretched his cheeks even higher than normal. He tossed his sweaty fringe out of his face and kissed Geralt, deeply, slowly, perfectly. “You’re welcome.”

[uwua3]

Hello! Sunflowers hold a really special meaning for me so when i read the "sunflower dreams" My heart was so happy!! I havent felt this happy in a long time since quarantine started so thank you for taking the time to write it! It really made my day. If i could request a kazunari x reader where they're both artists that would be amazing. Maybe the reader can be a famous anonymous art influencer? Its up to you! Again thank you so much for writing "sunflower dreams" 💜

i’m so happy i could make you smile ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) it’s messages like these that absolutely make my day! thank you so much for taking your time to even read it, i’m glad to know it touched your heart ♡ i hope you have a good rest of your day—please know all of a3! love you vvv much!!! ｀･ω･)9 i hope this makes your heart happy just like before! thank you, anon, for everything

summary: every time you fell in love, you made a new art piece

author’s note: please smile from this absolutely soft and endearing kazunari fluff! in times like these where negativity is all around us, it’s good to take a break and purposely give yourself happiness. i hope this is a light in your day and makes you experience all the goodness of love! ♡ — concept based on “to all the boys i’ve loved before”

word count: 3,389

music: i like me better – lauv

to everyone i’ve loved before.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

you created art every time you had a crush so intense, you didn’t know what else to do

no matter how big or small it was, or how long or short it lasted, love is love. even if it was a random stranger you’d never see again or someone you knew for a lifetime, love is love

therefore, there was no exact total. because even if you didn’t remember every single person you’ve made art for, you clearly remembered what it was like experiencing the euphoria of love. the phenomenon of your heart selflessly beating for someone else. the attack of getting hit by cupid’s arrow out of no where. the rush of emotions unlike any other

love was everywhere and you made sure to create something that was a memory of it. that was when you decided to practice art after being unable to recall a person’s face a moment too long

it was your form of a love letter. a picture spoke a thousand words you couldn’t write, and art was the perfect way to convey that. online for everyone to see were your love letters in art form: portraits of everyone you’ve loved

you fell in love again and again, a new art piece posted soon over the years of your life. under the username, to-everyone-ive-loved, a lifelong project was in the works for all of social media to see

unknown to the rest of the world, you were the artist behind the blog “to-everyone-ive-loved” who created portraits from memory

but, you didn’t mean to fall in love with another artist as well

all it took was one comment and you were theirs

it was one of your most recent posts, a finished piece on a stranger you saw. you found yourself in veludo way, the ideal street to find people you’d never forget. after witnessing a sudden street act, only one actor caught your eye that day

you didn’t know his name, but you didn’t need to. you were in love

you immediately rushed home without a second thought, the inspiration and creativity infectious after watching him perform. something about his energy was wildly entertaining and bizarre, like a modern pop song as a person. he was effortlessly trendy, popular, and charismatic just from the few minutes you saw him

the moment he stood up on that street corner like it was a stage, all eyes were on him and he knew it. as you sketched into the day, you remembered the small details clearly. dirty blonde hair with no dark roots in sight, glittering green eyes, wide welcoming smile. he had the face of an actor, that’s for sure

when you posted it right after finishing, you didn’t expect any major attention. on average, your posts got 100 likes or so. while it was an impressive feat, nothing could’ve prepared you for that one comment

kaz-PIKO: i’m in love with your art ♡

as your popularity and fame grew before your very eyes, you clicked on his profile and realized it was him. the actor you had seen earlier at veludo way

you didn’t know what happened, but all you knew was you couldn’t forget this one person, miyoshi kazunari, no matter how hard you tried

no matter where you went, you couldn’t draw anyone else except that boy named kazunari. after scrolling through his entire instablam account, you found out he was an actor for mankai company’s summer troupe. he was a star in his own right, with a stage presence like the spotlight was constantly on him and a heart of gold

this was the first time you ever got so caught up on someone that they didn’t leave your mind. hours became days, and days began becoming a week before you let yourself follow him back

everyone you had ever drawn had never recognized themselves before. it was all because a follower connected the visual similarities between your art and kazunari’s unique traits that kazunari knew you had seen him before

if only he wasn’t a social media influencer with followers reaching the hundreds of thousands. at least, his popularity attracted attention to your profile...

this was a problem, however. because if you couldn’t draw anyone else, what could you do? once again, you stalked kazunari’s blog once again like it was a habit

it was never really a rule to make one love letter per person, but you never had wanted to make another for the same person. until, now

video after video. picture after picture. story after story. you could see kazunari’s face even when you closed your eyes. what about him made you daydream about him constantly? was it his charming voice that could make anyone stop and stare? his intricate piercings that were different every day? his ability to make you feel at home? whatever it was (or maybe it was an accumulation of everything and more), you had to draw kazunari again

when you posted it, you typically didn’t add more to the caption than the date and time. except this time, you felt like all your rules were being broken over someone who had no idea who you were

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (3:33 A.M.) — social butterfly

you watched it upload. it was a piece you had never done before. glowing butterflies of all colors surrounded the center of the masterpiece, a smiling kazunari

hopefully, this would solve whatever feelings you were having and the world would go back to normal. you’d move on, fall in love with someone else, and repeat

it didn’t work, because some time later, you woke up to a comment that made you feel the butterflies in your stomach

kaz-PIKO: like a butterfly, i’ll fly to you, wherever you are~ ☆

and for some reason, you wanted kazunari to find you

you had never felt so motivated to draw before. however, your muse was the same. a beautiful boy named miyoshi kazunari who was slowly capturing your heart without even knowing it. you watched the pages in your sketchbook lessen and lessen. the corners of assignments and napkins and anything in between was covered in doodles. if there was a writing instrument in your hand, something related to kazunari would come out of it

it was a fascination. a fixiation, even. you had only seen one performance before falling in love. was it because kazunari responded that it made you feel like you had a chance?

you wouldn’t admit it, but it was becoming embarrassing with how much you were staring at the few unread messages from kazunari in your dm box. they came in right after you had followed him back, and more arrived when you posted the “social butterfly” piece

what was stopping you from talking to your muse? you knew the answer without thinking: what if these feelings were real?

obsessions and crushes come and go, but... love, love stayed. there wasn’t any possibility you could love someone from afar without knowing anything about them, right?

but, then again... you did know some things about kazunari. you knew kazunari was the best actor of all time, with expressions and gestures the equivalent of art. kazunari was art—in every single way possible. everything about him made you want to draw and draw and draw

you only drew kazunari for a certain time, no matter which stranger crossed your path. people you knew you would’ve sketched simply became passer-bys, and it was all because of kazunari’s sunny smile that you were in love. or, what you thought was love

the more you thought about kazunari’s unread dms, the more you wondered what this was. why did kazunari make you so happy? was this truly the first time you were experiencing... a crush?!

for the first time since that street act, you found yourself in veludo way. while half of you was hoping you’d randomly bump into summer troupe’s moodmaker, the other half was petrified about how kazunari was a real person. a very much popular, recognizable person

it was the weekend, and the burden of university projects was telling you to go back and focus. yet, with a sketchbook in one hand and a pencil tucked behind your ear, you were very much prepared to draw to your heart’s content

as you tried to flip to a clean page, you heard something that made your heart flutter. despite the noise and busy atmosphere of veludo, a distinct laugh was audible above the crowd. when you looked up, your eyes barely registered a deep blue jacket before walking straight into the person

you nearly tumbled to the ground before two hands steadied you, a surprised “whoa!” leaving their mouth before being followed by a gentle laugh. the usual embarrassment didn’t set in until you went to go thank the person, only to stop

oh my god. you had just bumped into miyoshi kazunari, your muse for the past month or so

kazunari grinned, even though it faltered slightly at your wide-eyed expression and awkward silence. he didn’t seem to mind as he adjusted his black top hat, pocketing his phone and confidently meeting your gaze

“i’m so sorry~! i hope you’re okay, i’m kazunari!” kazunari introduced and you realized he didn’t know you were behind to-everyone-ive-loved-before. you quickly adjusted yourself, pretending as if this wasn’t the highlight of your entire week

when you introduced yourself, kazunari’s eyes sparkled with interest as he easily led you into conversation. despite being a bit of a socially awkward artist who preferred being alone over anything else, kazunari was... comfortable. you didn’t feel self-conscious of how you acted, because he readily accepted how you were with a smile

was he like this was everyone or... did he find you to be a work of art, too?

standing off to the side, you finally noticed several members of mankai were advertising their latest play. bright, aesthetically pleasing flyers were being handed out to everyone walking by, and you seemed to look a moment too long before kazunari followed your gaze and suddenly snapped his fingers

“oh! are you interested in theatre?” you really weren’t, but you nodded anyways just to see kazunari’s excitement. he pardoned himself for a moment just to snatch a flyer, returning to show it off with a proud smile

“please come to mankai company’s summer performance!” kazunari’s smile sparkled and before he looked around to see if anyone was watching, he winked. kazunari covered the side of his face that was facing his troupe members, pretending as if you two were sharing some big secret

“plus, i’ll be there. if you come, i’ll make sure to do my very best~” kazunari bargained, even though you already knew he was already planning on wowing the audience with his charisma. you took in his genuine want to impress you and the butterflies came back

“i’ll come.” you agreed without even checking the date or reading anything. now all of you just wanted more & more opportunities as the person kazunari was surprisingly interested in, not as the artist who was basically in love with him

agreeing right away was worth it when kazunari shot you a grateful, blinding smile in return. you stumbled over your words with how taken back you were, but asked anyways, “do you like flowers?”

kazunari’s eyes softened for a moment, his usual energy suddenly gone before returning. he seemed genuinely moved by your question, and you wondered how many flowers it’d take to see him smile again like that

“i do, especially if they’re from you.”

“what kind?”

someone called kazunari’s name, insisting they were going to be late for practice. kazunari shouted back an agreement by telling them to go ahead first, before putting all his attention on you once again

“hibiscus.” meaning delicate beauty

before kazunari could ask for your socials, with his hand already reaching for his phone, you cut him off, hoping your voice wasn’t off

“next week. 7 P.M., mankai theatre. i’ll be there, front row.” you promised and took off, rushing off with a wave as kazunari stared after you for a second before waving back enthusiastically

as you left, kazunari was about to leave before he noticed something on the ground. it was a plain sketchbook, unassuming at first but it was nearly bursting at the binding with how many pages there were

when kazunari picked it up, he was about to flip to the first page before mankai called his name again, impatient this time. kazunari held onto the book and sent one last glance towards your direction before disappearing, hurrying to make sure the director wouldn’t penalize him for being the reason everyone was late

when you arrived home, you instinctually reached for the pencil behind your ear. at the same time, you put your hand in your bag, attempting to feel the familiar edges of your sketchbook

then, after turning your bag inside out and finding nothing, you collapsed onto your desk chair with shock and disbelief

you lost your sketchbook in veludo way the moment you met kazunari. what if he had it?

you drew another piece and stared at your screen, wondering if you should post it. it was kazunari once again with a yellow hibiscus flower behind his ear, the same gentle smile you couldn’t perfectly capture gracing his lips

you typed the caption and backspaced before settling on something that only you and him would know

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (8:01 P.M.) — delicate beauty

you hesitated before deleting the post a second after. maybe, you’d keep some artwork to yourself

kazunari had the sketchbook open next to his bedside, his phone in his hands and your profile open. he could recognize your art style a mile away, and the moment he saw the first sketch after practice, he couldn’t believe it

did this explain why he felt such a natural attraction to you? when you bumped into him, kazunari swore he could see the sparks flying. you made him feel like he was falling in love and you only proved him right when you two talked earlier. he wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to see you again

was this what love at first sight felt like? kazunari giddily typed a message over and over again, the unread messages of his filling his screen

kaz-PIKO: heya!! ★>d(,,･ε´-,,)⌒☆ just wanted to say i LOVE your art fr!!! we should totes collab, you know???

kaz-PIKO: thanks for drawing me btw :0 does this mean you live near veludo? let’s meet up!!!

kaz-PIKO: ,,, i don’t usually say this but, that social butterfly piece was breathtaking. you must really like me, huh? (･ω<)☆ jk haha

kaz-PIKO: no but really, it’s beautiful. thank you, honestly. it made my day, you make me happy ♡

kaz-PIKO: you must be really beautiful, too. i would want to draw you as well. lmk if ur up for that haha

kazunari read back his previous messages, all of them delivered but unopened. he realized how... how open he already was with the anonymous faceless artist, despite never interacting with them

now that he knew what you looked like, it only reassured his intuition that he was rightfully head over heels for you

kazunari typed something before deleting it, closing out of instablam and throwing his phone somewhere on his bed

kaz-PIKO: i was right, you are beautiful. i may have fallen in love, too

some things were better left unsaid. after all, you two had until next week to figure everything out

for the rest of the week, all you and kazunari did were think about the other person. a small part of you was afraid kazunari wasn’t the dream boy you imagined, but he was much more. you noticed he started posting more often and turned his notifications, wanting to be one of the first to see his practice videos and university selfies

you didn’t post any of the art you made of kazunari, making it the longest you hadn’t posted ever. kazunari couldn’t help but refresh your account every now and then, hoping he’d see his face again, as selfish as it was. kazunari wouldn’t know how’d he feel if he saw someone else had your heart

the longer time went on, the more you were certain. every fascination you had with someone was temporary, and you remembered the feeling rather than the person. but, with kazunari, you liked him for who he was. everything kazunari made you feel was new and exciting, but even when that went away, you still liked him

kazunari was your first crush, for real

kazunari liked making people like him. so, your online confession through art wasn’t exactly a surprise. but, yours was different. it was earnest, honest, and everything he didn’t know he was needing

kazunari looked through your sketchbook again and again, tracing over the notes you wrote in the margins and admiring your skill

kazunari liked you, and he was certain he would’ve still liked you even if you weren’t to-everyone-ive-loved-before

when showtime arrived, kazunari was oddly nervous. peeking from behind the red curtain, kazunari could already see you were one of the first sitting front row, just like you said. he had practiced his lines a thousand times and summer was fully prepared, why was he nervous?

before he went on, kazunari ignored the urgency of the mankai staff and quickly texted a message to your profile, hoping you’d at least see the notification this time

kaz-PIKO: i like you, too

(when you felt your phone buzz, you quickly silenced it)

the show moved you to a standing ovation, just like everyone else in the audience. as summer walked out to bow and express their gratitude, you watched kazunari’s eyes search for yours as he tilted his head towards backstage. you nodded, knowing you’d do anything to see this kazunari. actor kazunari, who was on cloud 9 with his performance and glowing from praise

you wanted to see, to experience, to draw, all versions of kazunari

after the applause, you looked around backstage before feeling a hand on your arm, the feeling reminiscent of the first time you bumped into kazunari

“you came.” kazunari breathlessly stated, as if he was surprised. before he could say anything else, you presented him with a bouquet of hibiscus flowers. the same shade of yellow you drew him with

“of course, i wanted to see you again.” you honestly admitted, knowing it made you flustered. kazunari carefully took the flowers before grinning, gently placing then beneath his chin. he looked like a vision, you wish you could’ve asked him to stand still so you could capture this moment forever

“i wanted to see you, too.” kazunari softly said, all the energy of being on stage gone. it was tranquil and peaceful, like you two were the only people in the entire theatre

kazunari took a moment to admire you before realizing something, taking something from behind him and presenting it to you. it was your sketchbook on the bottom, but a smaller version was on top of it, signed in silver sharpie. kazunari’s signature was glittering like his eyes as you took it

“next time, let’s draw together.”

kazunari’s sketchbook was filled with you. anything from small doodles to encouraging messages was found inside, with tens of post-it notes of just thoughts about you. kazunari’s art was colorful and extremely out of the box compared to his usual traditional style. it made you smile

kazunari watched you flip through it, already knowing this was the greatest act of love he could’ve declared this early on. he anticipated for you to reach the end

when you landed on the last page, you saw a note

do you want go on a date with me?

“next time, respond to my dms! that way i don’t have to write everything~!” kazunari teased and you two shared a laugh, knowing everything was going to be okay

“yes.”

“yes...?”

“yes, i’ll respond to your dms. and yes, i’ll go on a date with you.”

eventually, you ended up closing your blog for good. your last post was a picture of you and kazunari, with one caption

to-everyone-ive-loved-before: XX/XX/20 (3:33 P.M.) — to the one boy i love now, i love you

kaz-PIKO: i love you, too ♡

[danddymaro]

Apricots | Bucky x reader X Loki

Stupid really, but hey, give it a go. I'm so into this triangle.

It was a quick and easy thing i wanted to share.

Wordcount:  1350

​Apricots 

  “You have an apricot-like scent,” Loki piped up suddenly, disrupting the young woman from her little show, directing all of her focus onto the Asgardian prince sitting beside her instead,

“ Huh?” She said dumbly, caught off guard by his words.

She looked up at him, seeming confused by his sudden comment,

“Mmm...no,” Loki mumbled, “That's not it either,” He muttered, stuck in deep thought, ignoring her look of inquiry as well as her little confused sound.

His face then lit up with sudden triumph, one that only lasted a few seconds before he let his expression fall back into perplexion again,

“It's not quite that either.” He said while sounding utterly stumped, huffing to show his frustration.

“What are you talking about?” (f/n) said with a raised eyebrow, huffing with amusement at his pouting face.

“ ...You always have this certain smell to you, it's quite refreshing and warm," He commented,  "And not to mention sweet, almost alluring, " he added while using his hands in gestures to better let her understand. “ But I can’t quite put my finger on it, so I can’t exactly say what it is,” He told her while speaking softly.

“Really?” she asked him, “ 'Cause, I don't smell a thing,” She murmured, looking down at herself.

She lifted the bottom of her wrist up to sniff, followed by the collar of her top before shrugged, getting nothing, “ I don't really use anything either, sometimes simple little body soaps, but I don't think I  have anything strong enough for you to always smell,” She added with a little sigh.

“I’m sure you're just imagining it,” she remarked,  shaking her head all the while.

A  cheeky, little grin then morphed its way onto her face as she looked at him with glowing, impish (e/c) colored eyes, giggling through the words, “Oh, And quit sniffing me you creep,” she added, flipping her hair back to add to her playful, little act.

His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as she said that, the Asgardian immediately going on the defensive, “ I don't go about my day following your scent!” He gritted in between tightly pressed teeth, “And don't you dare let that idiot Thor hear you,” he said beneath his breath.

The last thing he needed was his brother to tease him about something so stupid, bringing up a topic he’d long ago squashed.

She rolled her eyes playfully, setting the controller that was on her lap onto the coffee table before she stretched out her legs from beneath her body, letting them  casually hang from the edge of the couch,

“Alright,” she said in a sing-song voice, lightly swinging the limbs to try and get the visiting numbness that had settle onto them to ease its way out of her body.

“Well," he huffed, rolling his eyes,  “Whatever it is... I wanted to say, I like it.” He said with a quiet mumble, propping his chin up on his palm, giving her sweet glowing, emerald eyes,

“Plenty,” He added just as softly.

A light touch of pink dusted onto her features, the (e/c) eyed woman taken back by the complement, and much more the gentle expression he eyed her with,

“You do ?” she questioned him, her index traveling up to her mouth, the pad touching her lips as she fluttered her eyes up at him,

“Indeed.” He confirmed, “ It's as I mentioned, warm... Almost inviting.

Perhaps It’s that I simply reflect it with who you are and my nose plays tricks on me,” he explained in the same gentle tone,

“Maybe that's it…” he said tenderly.

“Maybe, “ she said smiling, both her hands traveling to both sides  of her head to rid herself of the bothersome tickling strands of (h/c) that obscured her face,

“You're probably thinking too much about it,” she said while absentmindedly leaning against the couch, more into him.

“You wanna know what you smell like?” she said with a little quirk of her mouth.

“Sure,” he started, “what do I smell like to you ?” he asked with interest, his arms crossing over his chest as he waited.

“Well, you smell a lot like old books to me.” She said with a cute grin, having already mused over the thought before.

Slightly offended, he frowned, “Old books?” he responded with a distasteful curl of his upper lip, notably insulted.

“It isn't a bad thing,” she said while standing up, using her index to beckon him up,  waiting for him to follow her. "Trust me," She added with certainty.

“What do you mean?” he said with curiosity, standing up with her and falling in step with the young woman,

“Vanilla flowers and almonds” she replied plainly. “That's the smell of old books," she clarified, " come on think about it Loki." she urged him, " I'm surprised someone who had his nose up one doesn't recognize the scent.

Believe me,  It's not something bad.

It's refreshing… and, well... I like it too.” She revealed, looking up at him with sweet (e/c) colored eyes.

“Glad to know I’m just to you’re liking,” he chuckled, leaving with her, their conversation out of earshot to the other Avengers left in the entertainment room.

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

“OH MY GOSH! Loki I totally like your godly smell!” Bucky said in a high pitched voice under his breath with complete annoyance, dropping himself to plop onto the long couch. Crossing his arms tightly over his chest as he sank further into the seat, fuming.

Sam couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, clutching his sides as he doubled over,

“You're jealous !” he said in between his laughter, pointing an accusing finger towards the long-haired brunette.

Bucky froze and looked wide-eyed at the Falcon, seeming absolutely mortified,

“I didn't know you were here...” he said, surprised, hiding his face beneath a curtain and coffee brown colored strands of hair.

"I bet," Wilson sang, causing Bucky's startled, paled face to glow red. "You were too focused on those to even notice me here," he added knowingly.

“You're such a kid,” Sam added while chuckling, rolling his eyes for good measure.

Bucky glared at him, straying his eyes elsewhere as he brooded,  “ Shut it...and I'm not. ”

“ Whatever," Wilson said dismissively, " So instead of sulking on this couch, why don't you go and get your girl?” He added while interrogating the envious male pouting on the couch.

“ She's not my girl…" the long-haired male responded back while biting his inner cheek, " And I don't have a reason to follow them,” Bucky responded snidely. “For all, I care they can run away together,” he murmured.

"And she can be happy with someone else," He added with a long heave.

Shaking his head, Sam disagreed, "Bu-

"Just drop it," Barnes snapped, glaring at the other male hazardously.

“ Ok, fine," The dark-skinned male said while putting his two hands-off in defense, backing off, " I will, but I was just gonna give you some advice …. But you know what? Never mind, you've got this right in the bag,”

James anxiously bit the inside of his cheek, frustrated before he stood up, pulling Wilson by the back of his collar and shoving him down to the couch.

Immediately, both of his hands found their way to his shoulders, squeezing them tight to restrain the other man,

“ What do I do?” he breathed, desperate to know just what the other man had in mind.

" You want ol Sammy's advice?" Wilson mocked, singing the words.

" Yes…" the metal armed man grumbled lowly.

“ But I thought you were a player? And aside from that, I thought you didn't care," Falcon challenged the other male,

"Damn it...Just...help me." Bucky pleaded, his pathetic blue eyes pleasing, willing to do just about anything to win (f/n) over, even if it meant groveling.

"You came to the right man then,"  Sam declared, grinning wildly as he helped his friend win the girl over,

"But we're gonna need a team, " He said with certainty, already searching for the name on his cell, exited to call the first Avenger in order to aid their helpless friend.

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

The Arrangement pt3 (Aragorn x reader)

Aragorn stood with the people of Rivendell, watching the silver crown be placed on your head as you were kneeled, your father and sister standing there with smiles. You stood up, turning to the crowd with a very serious look. Well, at least it was a stone cold serious look, until you looked over at Aragorn who, out of habit had a natural way of making you smile. “Blessed be, Princess Y/n Undomiel.” Elrond said. “Blessed be, Princess Y/n Undomiel.” The crowd all said in unison. 

Now was the part you could deal with, a ball pretty much in full swing as you stayed glued to the wall next to Legolas and Aragorn. Legolas was still adjusting to the new information that he was “Aragorn” and not technically “Strider”. You were surprised at his newfound acceptance to his name but you liked seeing this new... More confident side to him. “This is ridiculous.” You sighed, sipping your wine. “Agreed.” Legolas said. “They haven’t even noticed us not moving.” Aragorn noticed. “They talk each others ears off if we let them, which we will.” You said. “Give it thirty minutes, Elrond will notice.” Legolas said. “Then he’ll force me to..” You shuddered for emphasis. “Socialize.” You said earning a chuckle from Aragorn. “There’s a lot more people present tonight.” He noticed. “Well now we have the ambassadors from other elven cities, the diplomats, the assistants, personal servants, the leaders other children who weren’t able to come last night, the generals and a few soldiers.” you listed off. “At least you know your people.” Legolas teased. “Oh yes, father would be sooo proud.” You said sarcastically.

Arwen walked over with a pained groan. “The ambassador of Mirkwood is a very annoying man.” She huffed making you snort. “Remember when we spent Legolas’s coronation avoiding the diplomats?” You asked. She cracked a smile. “I recall someone dancing wildly on the ball room floor to distract the others so Legolas could sneak more wine out of the kitchen.” She said. Aragorn laughed and you smiled. “You seem a lot more cheerful tonight.” You observed. “I’m celebrating a dear friend’s achievement, is that not cause for happiness?” Aragorn asked. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth for a sarcastic comment but was cut off by your father. 

“Y/n, this is a party for you, you should really socialize.” Elrond said. “I am socializing.” you said with a groan. “I meant, outside of your social circle.” He sighed. “Fine, but I’m avoiding Mirkwood’s ambassador.” You muttered. “We all are.” Elrond muttered, earning a small smile from the group as you were dragged off. “She was right you know. You do seem more cheerful than you were last night.” Arwen said. “I’ve been hiding my burdens... It feels nice to be able to live without them.” He admitted. “I was surprised to find out you were from Isildur’s line. I thought they died off.” Legolas said. “Most people assumed that after a while. The line ends with me.” He said with a shrug. “It might not.” Arwen said. “What do you mean?” He asked. “If Galadriel said she sits on a throne with you, there’s a good chance somehow, someway you will make a claim to your throne.” Legolas said. “I have no desire to do so.” Aragorn said. “Allow me to put it simply: Galadriel has had visions of Y/n sitting on a throne. I’ve had visions of you and Y/n falling in love. Two visions of similarity do not come from nowhere.” Arwen stated. 

Aragorn watched the diplomats talk and you slowly slip away and back to the group. “Alright, time to mess with the guards, it’s getting boring.” You sighed. “Hmmm. One on the left near the library doors, I’ll take the right.” Legolas said. Aragorn smirked as the two of you slipped away once more, standing next to the guards. Arwen sighed, putting a hand to her face as you began to make faces at the guards. Aragorn snorted, watching Legolas make inappropriate hand gestures. “These are the great rulers of our future.” Arwen sighed. “Y/n! Stop messing with the guards!” Elrond sighed. “Sorry!” You said, trying not to laugh. You seemed to have some sort of humorous conversation with Legolas, to stealthily mess with the guard. “I think left is going to crack.” Aragorn noticed, the man’s mouth twitching. “Oh not you too.” Arwen said. “Look at the man, he’s twitching.” Aragorn said. Arwen sighed, leaning off the wall. “My money’s on the right one.” Haldir said. “Oh good grief.” Arwen muttered. You made some sort of odd movements with your hand before the right one adjusted his stance. “Five silver’s for the left.” Aragorn muttered. “You’re on.” Haldir said. “You have been around my sister for too long. Both of you.” Arwen said. “Want in on it?” Aragorn asked. “....I’m with Haldir, it’s the right.” She said. Finally Legolas said something and the left started laughing, Aragorn turning to the two elves who both handed him five silver pieces. 

You and Legolas walked over, laughing and smiling. “What’s wrong with you?” You asked Arwen. “She lost a bet.” Haldir said. You gasped dramatically. “Arwen? Wager a bet? I’m shocked I tell you, shocked.” you said, earning an eye roll before an elven man tapped your shoulder. “May I have this dance milady?” He asked. Your eyes screamed, “SAVE ME” and Aragorn leaned over. “Shoot me a look and I’ll come over.” he whispered before you took the man’s hand. 

“For someone who hates the royal life so much, when she’s actually in the setting, she seems to really...” Aragorn struggled to find a word. “Thrive?” Legolas asked. “precisely.” He nodded. “She will make a wonderful queen one day if fate demands it.” Arwen agreed. “She’d make an excellent general.” Haldir said. “What makes you say that?” Aragorn asked. “Get her talking about war formations one day, you will understand what I mean.” Haldir said. “That’s something she picked up from Elladan and  Elrohir.” Arwen said. “Who?” Aragorn asked, recognizing the names. There was almost a flicker of a memory in Aragorn’s mind, but he disregarded it. “Our brothers. They’re the eldest.” She answered. “Why aren’t they here?” Aragorn asked. “They are more so... Protectors of Rivendell than actual royalty. Both their choice.” Arwen said. “Think that’s where Y/n gets it from?” Legolas asked. “No, although she does take after Elrohir with her attitude.” Arwen said. Aragorn smiled as you shot him a look. He set his glass down, leaning off the wall. “Duty calls.” he said. 

He tapped the man’s shoulder, asking to cut in. The man gave a bow before you took Aragorn’s hand. “You looked ready to kill someone.” He said. “The man was horse obsessed. Guess what? Did you know Mirkwood steeds can trot up to twelve miles an hour, because now I do.” you said, earning a laugh. “I’m sorry you had to bare that.” Aragorn said. “I’m sorry for myself, I wanted to impale myself on the guard’s spears.” you said. The song ended and you both clapped. “I guess we should stand with the group.” You said. “Or... We could keep dancing.” He said. “...Or we could do that.” You nodded, putting your hand on his shoulder and taking his hand once more. 

Galadriel watched you and the man, smiling at each other, along with Elrond and Thranduil. “Do you think your prophecy to be true?” Elrond asked, watching you dance. “The more and more I watch Y/n with him, the more certain I am of this.” She nodded. “I’m not sure I like my daughter with him. He did lie about his identity for five months.” Elrond muttered. “But he’s accepted his name now.” Galadriel said. Thranduil looked over at her. “I didn’t think you’d actually support them.” He said. “Y/n is intelligent. If there is a reason she will love him to a point of marriage , there is a good reason.” She said simply. Elrond turned back to you two, noticing the looks on both of your faces.

“They’re in love.” Legolas observed. “Oh, absolutely.” Haldir agreed. Arwen noticed Elrond’s observant gaze. “Father has resigned in trying to stop it.” She said. “That’s good.” Legolas said. “Indeed. It’s about time he’s learned that she can’t be controlled.” Arwen agreed. “Now it’s time for the next step.” Arwen added. “Which is?” Haldir asked. “For both of them to realize that.” She said. 

“You look lovely this evening.” Aragorn told you. “As do you. Sweet talker.” you teased. He smiled. “Do you think they’re right?” He asked. “About what?” you asked. “Us. Together. It’s... Odd, don’t you think?” He asked. “I tend to like odd.” you admitted. “But I do agree. I hold you close as a dear friend. Not exactly--” “Lover material, right!” He agreed. “Maybe we married as a political thing!” You said. “Good theory.” He nodded. You smiled, your heart seeming to pound. “...Or maybe we do fall in love.” You said. “...Maybe we do.” He said, dancing with you. “Only time will tell, right?” you asked. He found himself nodding to your words.

“Only time will tell.”

[ericsonclan]

Notes of Fear and Solace

Summary: Louis searches for Clementine to get some time with her before chores when suddenly a sound brings back the past.

Word Count: 3183

Read on AO3:

Life was great at Ericson. That's what Louis thought as he strolled out of the admin building after playing yet another masterpiece on his piano. He dubbed the song “Aasim Can Kiss My Ass”. A crude name for a song that he had made a week ago after Aasim kept bugging him constantly throughout the day.

It was a song that Louis seemed to play whenever life was getting under his skin. Today, however, he had let his fingertips dance along the piano keys bringing that song to life for no other reason besides that it had gotten stuck in his head. It was a pretty catchy tune although Louis supposed he should probably rename it. What its new name would be he had no idea but that answer could wait for a while. Right now all Louis wanted to do was find Clementine and sneak in a few kisses and hugs.

He stopped by the base of the steps of the admin building, his tailcoats swaying with the sudden stop in motion and his eyes scanning the courtyard. Aasim was on top of the watch tower, his eyes focused like a hawk on the outside world where only the sounds of walkers and the crunching of leaves could be heard.

Omar was busy taking care of Molly who was happily munching on some old bits of vegetables that hadn’t made it into the most recent meals. A calm, happy smile was on Omar’s lips as he talked quietly with the horse. Meanwhile AJ was busy crafting a new shiv near the fire pit, his eyes laser focused on the task at hand as his hands worked to create a firm yet comfortable handle to the weapon.

Ruby was busy walking casually back from the greenhouse with Violet. Both of them enjoyed the simple company the other brought as they strolled forward with baskets of herbs and veggies for today’s meals. A warm smile was on Ruby’s lips as she playfully nudged Violet’s side. The blonde rolled her eyes and shrugged off whatever teasing comment Ruby had made before adding in a comeback of her own. That seemed to surprise Ruby who quickly tried to add in something but Violet had already walked ahead.

Louis continued to search around and noticed that neither Willy nor Prisha were anywhere to be found. Knowing those two they were probably off building some sort of invention that would improve Ericson in ways that none of the others had even thought of yet. Louis’ eyes wandered around the courtyard once more but he couldn’t seem to find his wife.

“Hey, you!” Clementine’s warm voice made Louis glance back to see his wife walking down the steps of the admin building. “I was hoping I’d find you,” Clementine got on her tiptoes and captured Louis’ lips in a tender kiss. Louis leaned into the kiss and let his heart soar from the simple joy of the romantic gesture. Once the kiss had ended Louis started another one before pulling back and holding Clementine’s hand.

“You found me,” Louis grinned and took Clementine’s other hand then began to slowly sway their joined hands back and forth. “I was looking for you too.”

“Oh? What for?” Clementine smiled up at her husband with such softness that Louis had forgotten what he was going to say.

“Hmm? Oh, I wanted to sneak in a few hugs and kisses before the daily chores of life so heartlessly tore us apart,” Louis’ dramatic statement made Clementine lightly chuckle. That only made Louis’ heart flutter more as he took a moment to realize how lucky he was to have found someone like Clementine. Louis’ gazed at his wife who glanced up and within moments the pair got lost in each other’s eyes.

Silently Louis reached out his arms and wrapped them around Clementine. Clementine was startled by the sudden gesture for a moment before her arms wrapped around his back, her hands gently resting on the fabric of his coat. She took a deep breath and let her heart settle as she took in the moment. The couple held onto the hug, wanting it to last for as long as possible when suddenly a sound rang throughout the courtyard startling everyone around. It sounded just like an explosion.

In that moment time stopped as Louis heard a faint ringing in his ears and the memories of years before flooded to the forefront of his mind. He could feel Clementine tense within his arms and her heartbeat racing. He was certain his heart was beating just as fast. The world around him seemed to lose its vibrancy as his eyes darted around to make sure everyone else was safe.

Aasim remained frozen and stiff on the watch tower, his hands clutching onto the side so hard that his knuckles were pale white. Omar was no less tense as his eyes seemed to grow hard and his body stiff. Molly kicked the dirt frantically and trotted in place, causing Omar to snap out of his state enough to grab onto the reins.

A sound nearby Omar made Louis look over to see that Violet had dropped the basket of vegetables and her body was trembling. Taking off her glasses Violet covered her face, a grimace upon her lips. She tried to close herself off from the world at that moment as her mind was forced back into bitter memories.

Garbage ran out of one of her dens and began to hiss wildly as Rosie started to bark in confusion at the sound she had heard. Milky Way bleated frantically and tried to make sure Comet was okay who was just as frightened.

“AJ,” Clementine’s voice came out a bit shaky and she struggled to break free from Louis’ arms. “Louis, let go of me for a second,” Clementine looked up and noticed that Louis’ eyes were focused elsewhere. She looked at her husband then over to AJ who had grabbed his shiv in response to the sound but had carelessly reached too quickly, causing his hand to be cut by the blade. AJ didn’t seem to focus on the pain though as he stood up in a defensive stance and looked around for any signs of danger.

Suddenly footsteps appeared from near the graveyard and Prisha and Willy ran forward. Both of them looked around to see how frazzled and shaken everyone had become.

“Shit! Sorry! I was testing a new bomb out with Prisha! It was supposed to be a really small one, but-” Willy’s voice got caught in his throat as he saw how everyone had reacted. It didn’t take him long to realize what was happening. A pang of guilt stung his heart at the sight.

Immediately Prisha ran over to check on Violet who was still extremely shaken up by the whole thing. She whispered small apologies as she guided Violet over to one of the picnic tables. Meanwhile Willy ran over to help Ruby pick up the vegetables. Ruby continued to tell him that she was fine but based on the slight tremble of her hand it was obvious that she had been shaken by the sound too.

Louis felt Clementine slip free from his grasp and her hands instantly wandered up and cupped his face. “Louis, it's okay, just breathe,” Louis gave a shaky nod as he took a few deep breaths. Clementine gave a small smile but Louis could still see that her eyes were distant. “That's good. I’m going to check on AJ, okay?”

Louis gave a nod and Clementine kissed the tip of his nose then ran off towards AJ. She knelt down and took AJ’s free hand. “AJ, it's okay. It was just a test bomb that Willy and Prisha made. There’s no one coming to get us,” Clementine’s reassuring words only seemed to be partially working as AJ continued to scan the area. “AJ,” Clementine gently pushed down his hand that held the shiv. “When fear starts to crawl up, what do we say?”

“We say fuck off to fear,” AJ paused for a moment, realizing he had sworn but he noticed that Clementine didn’t scold or correct him. Taking a step back, he began to take in long, deep breaths and exhaled loudly. After repeating this a few times he felt his fear begin to melt away.

Soon everyone was starting to get a handle back on reality and were able to help each other shake off the moment of fear and panic that had come from the explosion. A few minutes passed before everyone had calmed down enough. Prisha and Willy apologized profusely.

“I’m so sorry, I thought we were far away enough that the sound would be muffled,” Prisha’s face held the guilt her heart felt for not only forcing Violet back to a traumatic part of her past but all of her friends as well.

“I thought I made the bomb right but I didn’t. I’m really sorry I fucked up. I’ll be more careful in the future,” Willy hid his eyes and stared at the ground.

Prisha gently placed her hand on his shoulder and looked at the rest of them. “We both will.”

“It's fine, mistakes happen,” Clementine smiled then looked over at Louis who had his usual smile on his face. Although it looked different this time.

“Clem is right. Looks like we won’t be needing to trade for coffee anymore though with sounds like those keeping the blood pumping,” Louis joked and gave a laugh before redirecting the conversation. Within seconds the atmosphere had changed and people were focusing elsewhere. Louis smiled happily and slung his arm over Omar’s shoulder as he began to ask if tonight he could finally do Stew with Lou again. Omar and the others jumped in to give their opinion on the topic and everything seemed okay. But Clementine couldn’t help but feel like something was off with Louis.

The rest of the evening seemed to go smoothly and dinner was as lively as ever. Willy and AJ ran off to play a game with Rosie and Garbage while Ruby and Aasim went to the admin building where Aasim had spoken about some poetry he had been working on. Twirling Ruby around once, Aasim quickly led the way forward and let their joined hands causally sway as they walked. Omar spoke about having some new notes to take in his collection of cooking pages after he finished up this shift on watch duty and Prisha and Violet excused themselves soon after, speaking about going up to the bell tower to look at the stars. The couple had walked a fair distance away hand in hand before Prisha stopped and whispered something to Violet then proceeded to wrap her arm around Violet’s back, pulling her into a hug.

“Ready for bed?” Clementine asked Louis who tore his attention away from the others and looked at his wife.

“Of course,” Louis planted a kiss on Clementine’s cheek and spun around on his seat before getting up. With a loving smile he extended his hand to Clementine. “Are you ready, m’lady?”

“Yeah,” Clementine took his hand and the two began to casually walk back to the dorms.

It was a quiet walk back to their room, quieter than usual. Lighting a candle, Louis worked to shake off his coat then draped it over the top bunk bed. Meanwhile Clementine was in the process of getting off her prosthetic.

“Allow me, my darling,” Louis knelt down and began to carefully take off his wife’s prosthetic. After a few seconds the prosthetic was off and placed to the side. Louis’ eyes stared at Clementine’s stump for a few seconds. Quietly Louis pressed a kiss to the stump then slid under the covers. Clementine immediately joined him and soon her arms were wrapped around his waist. She nuzzled her head against Louis’ back as he began to brush his thumb absentmindedly against the top of her hand.

“Louis,”

“Mmmm?”

“You don’t ever have to pretend to be strong around me. You’re allowed to be vulnerable,” Clementine’s words made Louis pause for a second and he grew silent. Moments passed until he finally broke the silence.

“You too, Clem. You ready to sleep?”

“Yeah,” Clementine could sense that Louis didn’t want to talk at that moment so she decided to respect that. Leaning back, she turned her head to blow out the candle. Soon the room was coated in the all consuming darkness of the night save for the faint moonlight that pierced through the boarded up window.

Louis could feel his breathing become tight as his heart stung with emotions. He hadn’t wanted to show how much that event from earlier today had affected him. He figured it was best to make sure the others were distracted and happy than to let himself sink within his own feelings. But now that it was night and there were no eyes upon him he felt like he had no place to hide from it.

That sound had shook him to his core and brought him back to the night on the Delta ship. That day had been one from hell. Minnie was so far gone from her time with the Delta that she’d  tricked them and locked them in cells. The struggle to get off the ship, the moment of panic that Louis had felt in his heart as the meat cleaver had been lifted above his pinky. The pain and sorrow he had felt when Violet crawled onto the shore, her face covered in burn marks and soot. How fragile she looked when she struggled to find his hand. Everything had gone wrong. Tenn had died on the bridge along with his sister and Clementine had nearly lost her life.

Louis’ mind continued to spiral and he felt tears begin to prick his eyes. Life had been so good recently that he had nearly forgotten all the shit that had happened to lead to this point. Brody was dead and so was Marlon. The thought made a lump appear in Louis’ throat and try as he may he couldn’t seem to force it down. Instead his body began to tremble with emotion as tears freely fell down his face. Why had he survived? Why had he been lucky enough not to be the one taken or to be among those who died or had received a permanent injury?

A faint cry escaped his lips as Louis sat up in bed but he instantly clasped his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t wake up Clementine, not over this. Not when everyone else had been able to shake off the event from earlier today even though he knew they had been brought back to that hellish day too. Louis continued to sob silently and tears began to dry on his face as the night dragged on.

Until suddenly Clementine reached out for him in her sleep and noticed that he had moved. The faint, soft sounds of his crying stirred his wife awake who looked up at him with sleepy eyes. “Louis?” Clementine blinked a few times before noticing the tears on his face. Immediately she sat up and scooted closer to him. “Hey, it's okay. You’re okay. I’m right here,” Clementine cupped Louis’ face before placing a kiss on top of his forehead. Silently she pulled him closer to her, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Louis couldn’t stop the new tears from falling down his face and he began to sob more and more.

Clementine held her husband close to her and rubbed his back as his body shook lightly. She whispered soft, reassuring words but nothing seemed to be helping. Usually whenever Louis was struck with sadness or a nightmare Clementine would hold him in her arms and eventually his sadness would dissipate but it wasn’t working this time. Instead Louis only seemed to cry more as time passed.

Clementine’s mind spun as she tried to come up with a solution that could help him. Based on how he was acting earlier, it seemed like he wouldn’t be in the mood to talk. After a few seconds Clementine’s mind was struck with an idea. Silently she let go of Louis and began to put her prosthetic on. The action made Louis’ eyes dance with confusion as he watched Clementine slowly rise to her feet.

“Follow me,” Clementine reached out her hand which Louis took immediately. Silently the two wandered through the empty halls and outside towards the admin building. Once they had entered Louis knew where she was taking him. His eyes looked over at Clementine who gave a soft smile as she lifted up his hand to kiss it.

Entering the music room, Clementine guided Louis to the piano bench before she wandered around to light the candles on the piano as well as some ones that stood in colored jars nearby. Soon the area around the piano was lit up in an ethereal purple. Clementine then walked back and sat down beside Louis. “Teach me how to play something. But nothing too tricky ‘cause I suck at it,” Clementine’s words surprised Louis for two reasons.

“You don’t suck at this. You’re just a few practices shy of perfection,” Louis gave a small smile over at his wife who shook her head.

“Try a lot of practices away from perfection. Now come on, teach away,” Clementine rested her hands on the piano and looked over at Louis. Louis wanted to continue to beg to differ but he also knew how stubborn Clementine was.

“Alright, let's start you off with something easy: Chopsticks,” Louis’ hands hovered above the keys and slowly he began to play the song, making sure that Clementine could see which keys he was hitting. The soft piano music filled the room but soon faded away once Louis reached the end of his song. “Your turn,”

Clementine nodded and placed her fingers on the right two keys. Carefully she began to play the song before she hit a sour note. Louis gave a small laugh to which Clementine frowned before she chuckled as well. She tried her best to complete the song but made a few more mistakes along the way.

“Not bad,” Louis leaned over and kissed Clementine’s cheek before he guided her hands over to the right set of keys. Slowly he went through each step of the song. The room was filled once more with the quiet piano music that only lasted a short while until the song ended.

“Okay, I’ve got it this time,” Clementine placed her hands over the correct piano keys and tried once more. She continued to play the song again and again. Light, lilting music infused the music room alongside giggles from both Clementine and Louis with every mistake that was made. As the music continued on Louis tilted his head and rested it on Clementine’s shoulder. The dark, heavy thoughts that had plagued his mind now drifted away in light of this simple yet perfect moment.

[ofstormsandwolves]

near-misses and mistletoe kisses

Zoey x Joan

All ages

Fluff & romance

Joan attends the SPRQ Point fourth floor Christmas party after several months as acting CEO, but her feelings for a certain red-headed coder make her wonder if it's a good idea...

Thanks to @royalarmyofoz for the prompt: mistletoe. 

If anyone has any other Zoey x Joan Christmas prompts, maybe send them my way?

Read on AO3

Being back on the fourth floor after so long away felt more than a little strange to Joan, despite it not having changed much since she’d left. The past six months had been filled with tech expos, public speaking, and travelling the world as acting CEO of SPRQ Point while Danny Michael Davis was serving time. Now, Joan wouldn’t trade the opportunity for anything, but it did feel strangely comforting to return to her old floor even for a few hours.

In fact, she’d missed the familiar faces of her team more than she’d ever admit aloud. She’d been a little surprised when she’d received the e-vite from Zoey, asking her to attend the fourth floor Christmas party, but she hadn’t been able to say no. The younger woman had become a good friend to her over the past year, and she supposed swinging by the party for a few hours wouldn’t hurt.

With a breath, Joan moved further into the office space, which had been decked out in lights and baubles and a big Christmas tree. The desks had been cleared away for the party, a wise choice considering that Tobin was practically throwing himself around the dance floor, clearly having already had a few drinks. Music pumped through the room, and Joan found herself giving tight smiles and quiet greetings to a few of her old subordinates as she moved through the throng of familiar faces.

She didn’t know why she was seeking out one particular person quite so much. Well, she did, but she wasn’t about to admit it. No, that was something she’d done her best to bury, these feelings that she was desperately trying to ignore. Getting out of the office had done wonders, but the feeling still chased her, the thoughts still preoccupied her mind at the most inopportune moments.

And then Joan saw her. Red hair cascading in waves around her pale shoulders, which were bare save two thin straps holding up an emerald green dress. An animated grin on her face, hands gesturing wildly as she talked. Joan felt her heart stop in her chest, her mouth going dry as she took in the sight of Zoey Clarke chatting happily with Mo, who appeared to be DJ-ing the event. Since accepting the invitation to the party, she had thought long and hard about how she would approach the younger woman, had carefully planned how to greet her in a way that was casual but not too casual, how she would give her that smirk that made Zoey blush, how she would try to steal the young coder away for a quiet chat and a private catch-up. Not for anything, of course. They were just friends. Only friends. Zoey didn’t think of her that way. But staring at her now, all of Joan’s plans flew out of her head and for a moment she could have sobbed.

Why had she come? After months of trying to ignore her feelings for Zoey, of trying to brush them off as a silly crush or a misinterpreted friendship, she had walked straight into what felt very much like a trap. How could she spend the night with the younger woman, acting calm and casual, and ignoring the fact she wanted nothing more than to shove her up against a wall and drive her senseless? Was this really such a good idea, showing up at the office party where there would inevitably be lots of alcohol and a delectably-dressed Zoey?

Taking a breath, Joan took a shaky step back, and instead started looking for the bar.

 Joan was on her third martini when she heard someone call her name over a loud, pop-y Christmas song. She looked around in surprise, only for her heart to sink as she saw Leif making his way towards her with a grin.

“Joan! You made it,” Leif sat next to her at the bar, not noticing Joan’s strained smile. “Zoey said she’d invited you, but she wasn’t sure you could make it.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” Joan shrugged uncomfortably. “I was home for Christmas, so I thought I’d swing by, make sure my replacement hasn’t managed to destroy the entire floor. I would quite like to have a team to come back to once Danny Michael Davis is back as CEO.”

“And we’d love to have you back,” Leif said, his tone making her squirm a little. It was just a little too needy, that little too sickly-sweet for her taste.

Letting out a nervous laugh at that, Joan took a gulp of martini. “Well, I guess I’d better make the rounds. Say hello to people, and all that.” She went to slide off the barstool, but was stopped by Leif’s hand on her arm. She stared at him.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Leif smiled, then pointedly looked up.

Dangling from one of the many strings of fairy lights suspended throughout the room, was a sprig of mistletoe. Joan felt the blood drain from her face as she returned her gaze to Leif’s expectant expression.

“Uh, well, I don’t know, Leif,” she shifted uncomfortably, gave another nervous laugh. “We’re in a room full of people, and the last time I let anything like this happen... Well, we both know it didn’t end well.”

“Come on, Joan, it’s tradition.” Leif took a step closer, and Joan quickly took a step back.

“Everything alright?”

Both Joan and Leif looked round in surprise at the new voice, seeing Zoey staring at the pair of them with a furrowed brow.

“Zoey!” Joan felt the panic loosen in her chest at the sight of the redhead, and she quickly moved to embrace the younger woman. “Everything’s fine, Leif and I were just talking.”

Leif, whose shoulders had slumped at the interruption, looked about to say something then, so Joan grabbed her purse off the bar and looped her arm through Zoey’s.

“Come on, I need to powder my nose.”

And before Leif could say anything, Joan was carting Zoey off to the ladies’ room.

 Ok, so the ladies’ room hadn’t been the best place to go, considering that the rest of the party goers were male and wouldn’t be able to offer interruptions. All she’d succeeded in doing, Joan realised, was isolate herself with the woman she had quite frustrating romantic feelings for.

“So, what was all that about?” Zoey asked as she checked her makeup in the mirror.

Joan did the same, although she didn’t really need to. She just felt like she had to do something to stop herself from staring at Zoey.

“Oh, uh, Leif was getting a little too friendly,” Joan rolled her eyes. “Whoever put that mistletoe up should be fired.”

“But you’re alright?” Zoey glanced over at her with a frown. “He wasn’t making you uncomfortable or anything?”

“Well, he was, but I can handle it.” The brunette sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“What? No! Joan, you deserve to be here! You’re still our team leader, even if you’re not managing the floor right now! And, after all the work you’ve been doing these past months, you deserve a night off. Besides, I...” Zoey trailed off uncertainly then, before continuing in a quieter, almost uncertain voice. “I’ve missed you.”

There was something in her tone, a vulnerability, that made Joan freeze. Could she...? Did Zoey...? No, she couldn’t... She swallowed.

Zoey, for her part, was flushed red, and she hastily readjusted the straps of her dress before moving for the bathroom door. “We should get back out to the party before Tobin eats all the food.”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll, I’ll be right there.”

Zoey didn’t respond, instead hurrying out the bathroom without a backwards glance. Turning her attention to her reflection, Joan studied her appearance for a long while. There was no way Zoey had meant she’d missed her in that way, right? Not in the way Joan had missed her?

She stared at her reflection’; taking in her choice of makeup, the way she’d carefully done her hair so that it was naturally curly but not frizzy, the dark blue dress she’d chosen that hugged her figure in all the right places...  She’d spent ages getting ready for the party, had wanted to look her best, and for what? What had been the plan? In all honesty, there had never really been a plan, no matter what she tried to convince herself. Beyond ‘show up looking gorgeous, get Zoey alone for some drinks and a chat’, there had been nothing. She hadn’t considered what she would say to the younger woman, or whether she’d admit to the fact her heart stopped in her chest at the sight of Zoey’s smile. She hadn’t admitted to herself that she had dressed up for the redhead who had just walked out on her, hadn’t stopped to fully dwell on exactly what she’d been doing. A little voice in the back of her head that sounded like Charlie was laughing at her. How could she have been so stupid? Why would Zoey want her? She was reading too much into things. Zoey simply missed having another woman around at work, it had nothing to do with any personal matters or feelings.

After all, there had been talks of Zoey and Max, and there had been the accusations at Simon’s engagement party too. The woman had two attractive young men after her and the world at her feet. Why would she look twice at a woman twenty years older than her?

Letting out a quiet sigh, Joan made up her mind. She was getting out of there.

 She really had meant to just sneak out. But somehow, Tobin had spotted her and Joan had been corralled over to the dance floor. Repeated attempts were made by the young man to drag her onto the dance floor, and eventually resigning herself to being stuck there, she instead made her way back to the bar.

“Where’ve you been?”

Joan blinked. Zoey was sat at the bar, two martinis in front of her and a worried frown on her face.

“Oh, uh, Tobin caught me. He was trying to get me to ‘cut loose’.” Joan grimaced.

“Ah.” Zoey nodded, and slid a martini over to her.

Somewhat reluctantly, the older woman slipped onto a stool and took a sip of the drink.

“You know, I was beginning to think you’d stood me up,” the redhead said, a small smile on her face.

Having no response to that, Joan simply blinked.

“I mean, I thought I’d scared you off, saying about how I missed you.” Zoey’s attention was on her martini glass, shoulders tight and cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. “I thought I’d made you uncomfortable, I know you’re not always big on emotional talks and stuff. But... But I meant it. And I’m not sorry I said it.”

A long silence then, as music continued to thump away in the background. A few people came to the bar, ordered drinks, and the two women waited uncomfortably until they were alone again.

“When you say you missed me,” Joan began uncertainly once they were indeed again alone, “do you mean at work?”

Zoey shrugged. “Kinda. But also out of work. I mean, I know you’re like, super busy, but I miss seeing you. Which sounds weird, I know, because we didn’t exactly hang out much before. But...” She sighed, before turning to look at Joan fully. “I had a conversation with Mo a few months ago, when me and Max were arguing, and he told me that real friends owe it to each other to have hard conversations, to talk about things that are difficult, or weird, or uncomfortable. And, believe me, the irony is not lost on me that what I’m about to tell you is the exact thing that drove a wedge between me and Max, but I can’t not say anything.”

“Zoey-”

“No, Joan, please just let me finish. I... I really like you. As in, like you. I thought maybe it was just a crush, or it was to do with you being there for me after everything with my dad and stuff, but... It hasn’t gone away. And it isn’t something I can just ignore anymore.”

Joan blinked. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Was she dreaming? Had she slipped in the bathroom, and actually unconscious right now? Was it some elaborate, cruel joke?

“Joan? Please say something. Anything.”

“Uh...”

In all honesty, Joan was having trouble processing everything and finding her voice. But Zoey’s worried gaze was just enough to jolt her out of her mind to stumble through an answer.

“That’s... Wow. Ok. Wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m really sorry to spring this on you,” Zoey said, sounding more than a little worried. “Look, I know this seemed to have come out of nowhere, and if you want me to just leave you alone, I will-”

“I like you too.”

Joan hadn’t quite expected the words to come out so abruptly, and Zoey’s wide-eyed look told her the younger woman hadn’t expected it either. Now it was the redhead’s turn to struggle for words.

“Oh. Right. Uh, ok... So, um, what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Joan admitted with a shrug. “I haven’t exactly done this sort of thing in years.”

“Yeah, no, of course.” Zoey looked around at the party that was still in full swing. “You want to go somewhere else and talk? Somewhere not full of our co-workers getting drunk and dancing to Mariah Carey?”

“If you want to, yeah.” A small smile was spreading across Joan’s face, and Zoey returned it.

“Ok.”

The two women grabbed their purses, and Joan had just slipped off her stool when she remembered something. She looked up tentatively and there, hanging between them from the lights, was the sprig of mistletoe.

Zoey had followed her gaze with a small frown, mouth widening into a surprised ‘o’ as she realised what Joan was looking at. Slowly, the two women redirected their attention to each other.

“What do we do?” Zoey asked, a little breathless.

“Well,” Joan said, a smirk spreading across her lips, “it is a tradition.”

The younger woman considered that for a moment from her vantage point still on the bar stool. She spared a quick glance at her team members, all drinking and partying. Mo was busy at the decks but looked up and spotted Zoey and Joan across the room. Taking in their predicament, a grin spread across his face and he flashed Zoey a wink.

Grinning, the redhead returned her attention to Joan, reaching out to pull her closer. Instinctively Joan stepped between Zoey’s legs, arms coming around the woman’s waist as they leaned in. Their lips touched, soft and warm, in a kiss that was surprisingly tender. When they parted, they both glanced towards the dance floor. Besides a smirking Mo, nobody seemed to have noticed their little moment. Threading her fingers through Zoey’s, Joan tugged the younger coder off the stool and leaned in close to murmur in her ear.

“Your place or mine?”

With a seductive grin Joan hadn’t known Zoey was capable of, the redhead merely raised her eyebrows and tugged her towards the elevators.

Well, Joan thought, it looked like she’d made the right decision after all.

[angelsunflowers-fanfics]

Jealous!Sean Diaz x reader (Flirting & Awkwardness)

Request: Hey, I love your writing! Just super amazing! 💕 I was wondering if you could do another jealous! Sean Diaz one shot??? If not that’s totally fine! Thank you! ✌️☺️

Fandom: Life is strange 2

Genre: Fluff

Linktree

~~~~~~~~~~~

Going to a market in a small town while being on the run from the police probably wasn’t the smartest idea but Daniel and Chris wanted to have fun, and Sean didn’t want to go alone. So here Daniel, Sean and (y/n) were, at the Beavercreek market looking at Christmas trees.

“Hey, sorry for the wait. I wanted to talk to Daniel about… His powers,” Sean explained his brief absence. 

(y/n) nodded in understanding before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the side of his head. They knew how stressed and worried he could get over the entire situation. So it was important to keep his spirits up along with Daniel’s.

“You’re doing your best, I can tell. Just relax, do whatever you do. Draw, be awkwardly cute, mumble song lyrics, just chill. Okay, honey?” (y/n) said.

Sean averted his eyes, a light blush scattering across his facial features. Even after a full year, he still wasn’t used to the assortment of nicknames (y/n) had given him. But to answer their question, he gave a shy nod, tucking his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.

“What are you gonna do?” Sean asked.

(y/n) breathed in a breath of fresh air, it was nice. They liked being outside in the open world for a change. The smell of the pine trees in the near distance gave the market a very comfy feel about it. Daniel and Chris were loving it, that was for certain.

“Talk to the locals, maybe meet a few friends, I don’t know yet. Try to keep an eye on the kids, okay?” (y/n) replied.

Sean nodded his head absentmindedly and watched as (y/n) walked away from him to go look at the little shops in a different area. He felt terrible about dragging them into this but was grateful that they stuck around so long to help out with Daniel and trying to get to Mexico.

(y/n) on the other hand, was trying to push the fear of the police finding the three of them and taking them to prison, they were doing that by aimlessly walking around and trying to enjoy a moment of peace from the small town.

(y/n)’s ears perked up lightly as soft music and a beautiful voice broke the silence of the market. (y/n) followed the music until their eyes found Cassidy, she was playing her guitar smoothly and singing softly. She didn’t gather much of a crowd but (y/n) listened to the entire song. Cassidy was quick to turn her attention to the one admirer that listened to her song.

“Thanks for listening. Not many people do that these days. Life’s too busy I guess,” She spoke. 

(y/n)’s eyes widened brightly as a smooth southern accent reached their ears, they almost reached up to touch their heart from how pretty it sounded. But that action would be a bit embarrassing. (y/n) fiddled with their fingers lightly.

“I uh, I don’t have any money to give you but that was a really pretty song… It was nice,” (y/n) stutterd over their words.  

Cassidy wasn’t shameful at the look over she did on (y/n), checking them out. Cassidy smiled, seeing how soft the stranger before her was.

“I’m Cassidy. What brings a pretty person such as yourself to a place like this?” 

(y/n) took a moment to let the sentence sink into their brain, they didn’t exactly get flirted with too much so they didn’t really know how to respond.

“I– wow– um, I’m (y/n) and… I’m just visiting some relatives for the holidays. What about you? You look like an interesting person,” They replied. 

(y/n) rocked back on forth on their heels, trying to stay a little warm in the cold weather. Cassidy slowly placed her guitar back into the case, knowing that she wouldn’t be playing so long as (y/n) continued to talk to her. The company was nice until her friend came back.

“I don’t really belong anywhere. A friend and I hop on trains as a means of transportation,” Cassidy said. 

(y/n) was most definitely interested in the conversation at this point. A bland town full of boring people, but Cassidy? She was something very different. It was no surprise that she was just passing through. 

“It’s fun and completely free,” Cassidy chuckled. 

(y/n) could only stare in wonderment. Sure, they had a loving and doting boyfriend but this was the first time that a very pretty girl had ever flirted with them directly. It was a nice change of pace, as long as nothing went too far all will be well.

“That sounds amazing. Do you ever get tired of it?” (y/n) asked.

Cassidy opened her mouth, ready to flirt or respond seriously, (y/n) didn’t know. But that was when a tall boy with a dog approached Cassidy.

“Alright, everything’s all ready to go… Who’s your friend?” He asked.

(y/n) could feel their ears turning red as he quickly checked them out. The second person in the past 10 minutes to do so.

“I’m (y/n). Hi,” They introduced themself.  

They awkwardly waved toward the taller male, feeling only slightly intimidated by his appearance. (Y/n)’s eyes jumped from Finn to the dog sitting near his feet. It couldn’t do any harm to touch him, right? 

“Is he friendly?” 

Cassidy stood up to be eye to eye with her longtime friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders teasingly before she said, “Finn’s got a bit of a bark, but he won’t hurt you.” 

(y/n) laughed lightly before gesturing to the tame dog in front of them, “I was talking about the dog.” 

Finn gave Cassidy an annoyed look but smiled seeing how friendly his dog was with the newcomer. He knew that Cassidy was more into the suburban people but what if he was as well? It had been a while for either of them to have a nice comfort of someone nearby.

Finn let his eyes wander over (y/n)’s form as they took the initiative to pet the dog at his feet. He didn’t normally act like this but the innocent look of them and how flustered and tangled their words became as they fell from their mouth was so enticing. Not to mention that (y/n) seemed really sweet for someone who lived out in a small town like this.

Sean was sat at one of the many picnic tables, glancing up every now and then to get a good look at his partner to draw. They seemed a bit flustered from two pretty people talking to them but he wanted them to handle it. He didn’t want to go charging in because he was over jealous again. He needed to calm down. Drawing helped.

(y/n) slowly stood to their feet and met Finn’s gaze, he tilted his head to the side for a moment before asking an obvious question, “You wouldn’t maybe want to put another hole in my scoreboard, would you?” 

(y/n) gave the tall male standing in front of them a confused look. Scoreboard? Cassidy talked to Finn about how she had more on her scoreboard. Like it was a competition. Wait… (y/n)’s face flushed wildly. Oh! They meant hooking up!

“Oh… Oh! That’s – oh, wow… Um, I’m actually going to have to decline,” (y/n) embarrassingly admitted. 

Cassidy continued to hang off of Finn, her arm loosely draped over his shoulders as she leaned all of her weight into him but it didn’t seem to bother him one bit. He just asked (y/n) something quite personal, of course, they had to decline. They hadn’t even done that with Sean yet.

“It wouldn’t be surprising that you have someone. Girlfriend? Boyfriend?” 

Sean slowly closed his sketchbook, quickly walking over to where (y/n) and two homeless teens stood. They looked a little too flushed for comfort, and Sean was done looking around for a present for Daniel. He had something completely different for (y/n) of course.

(y/n) shifted from one foot to the other in nervousness. Of course, they were going to say that they had a significant other. One that they wouldn’t trade for anything.

“Um, I actually have a boyfriend who I love very much. Sorry,” (y/n) apologized. 

Sean smoothly placed a hand on (y/n)’s back, forcing himself into the conversation as he heard the last sentence left (y/n). He had no clue what they were all talking about but seeing how flustered and red (y/n) looked, it made him mad because he wasn’t the one to make them look like that.

“Everything okay over here?” His voice was strained and awkward, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to them right now and not after seeing the two other teenagers flirt with them. With his significant other.

“Sean! Hi, um… this is Cassidy and Finn. They’re pretty chill,” (y/n) introduced Sean to the two in front of them. 

Sean was still skeptical of course, his grip became a notch tighter on (y/n) but they didn’t seem to notice. Sean becoming clingy had become normal for them, it was nice having him cling to them at night to keep warm, but he was a tad insecure that they’d leave him for someone better.

And the two teenagers standing in front of him seemed like good candidates. Sean noticed how the two were looking at (y/n), flirty and inviting. But not on Sean’s watch.

“So, if you’re up for it, you’re more than welcomed to join us to Cali. your boyfriend can come too,” Cassidy offered, 

(y/n) brightened up instantly, train-hopping with Finn and Cassidy to California? That sounded amazing. They didn’t want to say no but the expression on Sean’s face screamed rivalry or envy. Sean maneuvered his hand to grab (y/n)’s instead of resting it on their back.

“Hey… we have a home here now. Remember? And–” Sean started to say before a look of shock and realization dawned over (Y/n), they almost forgot about him. Of course, they couldn’t leave him. That wouldn’t be right in any sense of the word.

“Daniel, right… “ (y/n) turned to Finn and Cassidy, an apology on their lips. “I’m actually going to have to say no. I’m sorry. Sean’s right, we actually have a home here.” 

Finn and Cassidy sighed a disappointment, they both wanted someone new on their trip and someone as soft and sweet as (Y/n) was the perfect person to choose from but that was life… (y/n) glanced to Sean, noticing the jealous look in his eyes and body language. It was very persistent from the second that he walked up. They’d have to deal with him after they said goodbye to Cassidy and Finn. (y/n) stepped away from Sean to approach the two closer. 

“I hope that we’ll meet again. It’s been really fun.” 

Finn slowly grabbed one of (y/n)’s arms and rolled the sleeves up to write down a number. Sean clenched his jaw but stood still. He could trust (Y/n).

“This is our burner cell number. Give us a call when you can. Well, see ya. Try to find us on the trains if you can,” Finn mentioned. 

(y/n) blushed lightly at the brief contact but waved lightly as they disappeared around the corner with the dog light on their heels.

They were gone.

“Okay, Sean, Honey… What’s wrong? You’re acting… jealous,” (y/n) asked. 

Sean’s face slowly blossomed into a light blush, the nickname combined with the scene that was just caused. He got jealous quite easily when it came to people flirting with (y/n). He wasn’t that confident to do that; flirt. 

“We were just talking, What’s the big deal.” 

Sean crossed his arms over his chest, showing (y/n) how upset he actually was with (y/n)’s new friends.

“Flirting. They were flirting with you,” Sean huffed. 

(y/n) sighed lightly but grabbed Sean’s hands lightly to tug him closer to them so they could lightly press a chaste kiss to his lips, they were chapped and rough but the perfect texture against (y/n)’s own lips.

“I promise that nothing was going to happen. I did like getting flirted by two pretty people. But there’s nobody else like you, I promise. Come on, let’s go find Daniel and head back before your grandparents find out.”

[cantpickonefandoms]

Gwent Week: Day 2: Song

You're on the phone with your girlfriend

Gwen stood, waiting patiently at the bus shelter for the bus to come. As Gwen was waiting, she suddenly heard talking behind her, she looked behind to see Trent coming up the street, Gwen felt her stomach flip, as it always did whenever she saw Trent. Trent was talking his cellphone and, from what Gwen could see, he was having an argument with the other person, or least, that’s what Gwen guessed was going on, based off the frustration on Trent’s face, he also appeared to talking quickly, and he was gesturing wildly with his free hand. Gwen watched Trent up until he suddenly pulled his phone away from his ear and stuffed it in his pocket. Gwen then realized she had been staring and quickly turned away, she hoped Trent hadn’t noticed. She felt Trent stop and stand next to her, Gwen turned her head so she could look at him, he was frowning, clearly the argument he had put Trent in a bad mood. “Um, hi Trent.” Gwen said carefully, she wasn’t sure if Trent would want to talk, Trent quickly turned his head to look at her, it was almost as if this was first time he had noticed her that morning. “Oh, hey Gwen.” Trent said, offering her a small smile. Gwen chewed her bottom lip nervously, was it her place to ask about the argument? She wasn’t particularly close with Trent, sure, Gwen had been crushing on him since the ninth grade, but they had only talked on a handful of occasions. Nevertheless, Gwen allowed her curiosity to win her over. “So, it kind of looked like you were arguing with someone...”  

She's upset, she's going off about something that you said

“Huh?” Trent looked at her with confusion. Gwen cringed, she was starting to regret asking. “It looked like you were arguing with someone over the phone.” Gwen elaborated. “Oh.” Trent said, he turned his head down so he was looking his shoes. “Yeah, it was Heather. I made a joke that she didn’t appreciate, and she blew up on me.” “Hmm.” Gwen said, restraining from expressing her actual opinion on Heather. Heather, in Gwen’s opinion, was Satan’s love child, she was the evil queen of Gwen’s high school, she relished in making other people’s lives miserable, she was also Trent’s girlfriend. How Trent, one of nicest people in Gwen’s school, ended up dating the she-devil was beyond Gwen. She had a few theories, like maybe Heather gave Trent a love potion, or threatened to kill Trent’s entire family, or something else along those lines. However Heather managed to convince Trent to start dating her, one thing was certain, Heather had Trent wrapped around her finger, and it irked the hell out of Gwen.  

'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.

Despite Gwen really hating that Trent was dating Heather, she had no intention of sabotaging their relationship, Gwen wasn’t that petty. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’m sure once Heather has cooled down, she’ll talk to you and apologize.” “You think so?” Trent asked, looking at Gwen curiously. “Yeah, Heather’s just being a-” Gwen stopped herself, the words ‘drama queen’ were on the tip of her tongue. “...She’s just being a bit sensitive; she’ll get over it.” “Hmm.” Trent thought for a moment. “You know, you’re right, Gwen. Thanks.” Trent shot her a big smile, and Gwen couldn’t help but smile back. “No problem.”

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night.

I'm listenin' to the kind of music she doesn't like

And she'll never know your story like I do

Gwen was walking home from school, heading past the park, when she spotted a familiar figure sitting at a picnic bench with ear buds in his ears, connected to a phone. Gwen made her way over to wear Trent was sitting, she made eye contact with him, so Trent took his ear buds out and waved. “Hey!” “Hey.” Gwen greeted. “You’re in a better mood than you were this morning.” Gwen observed. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I am.” Trent said. “So, Heather talked to you?” Gwen asked, Trent nodded. Gwen wasn’t quite sure what to say, she supposed she could have said ‘I’m glad’ but that would have been a half lie, she was happy that Trent was happy, but she wasn’t happy that Heather was still with Trent. So, instead she pointed at Trent’s phone. “What’re you listening to?” “Oh, She Will Be Loved.” “Ooh, nice!” Gwen said. “You like this song?” Trent asked, sounding surprised. “Uh, yeah! It’s great!” “Oh, I guess I’m just surprised because Heather really doesn’t like this song.” “Oh...” Gwen said. They suddenly fell into an awkward silence. Damn it, why did we have to go back to talking about Heather? Gwen wondered. “Well, I’m glad I know someone who likes the same song as me.” Trent said suddenly. “Yeah, that is a good thing.” Gwen said. “Do you want to...” Trent allowed his voice to trail off, and he offered his second ear bud to Gwen, Gwen’s eyes widened as she understood what Trent was offering. “Uh, sure.” Gwen restrained herself from sounding too excited, Trent wasn’t single, he was just being friendly. Despite that, as Gwen was sitting next to Trent, while She Will Be Loved played through their shared ear buds, Gwen allowed herself to enjoy this moment with Trent.

But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts

She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers

Gwen sat on the cold, metal bench, overlooking the football field where the school’s football team was going up against one of the neighbouring schools’ football teams. But Gwen wasn’t really watching the game, she looking over at the cheer squad, clapping and cheering when she saw Zoey pull off a perfect flip or cartwheel. “Hi, Gwen.” Gwen turned to see Trent standing next to her. “Hi.” Gwen said. “Do you mind if I...?” Trent gestured to the empty seat next to her. “Yeah sure, go right ahead.” Gwen said happily. Trent sat down next to her. “So, what’re you doing here? This doesn’t really seem like your thing.” Trent pointed out. Gwen turned to him. “I’m here to check out the hot guys in their uniforms.” She said with a straight face. Trent’s eyes widened in shock. “Seriously?” He asked. “Yup.” Gwen said. Trent’s eyes widened even more. Gwen decided she should put Trent out of his misery. She laughed. “I’m kidding. You’re right, I don’t care about this.” Gwen gestured to the football game. “I’m here for this.” Gwen gestured in the genral direction of the cheer squad. “I’m here to support Zoey. Usually this would be Mike’s job, but he’s out of town, so I’m here in his place.” Gwen explained. “Ah, that makes sense.” Trent said with a grin. He let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t do that, you had me worried for a second there.” “Oh really?” Gwen asked in amusement. “Yes really!” “So, what’re you doing here?” Gwen asked. “Oh, I’m here for Heather.” Trent said. “Oh, of course.” Gwen said. Idiot. For a minute, Gwen had forgotten that Trent had a girlfriend.

Dreamin' 'bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time

Since Gwen was going to meet up with Zoey after the game, and Trent was going to meet with Heather, Trent suggested that they should go to wait outside the changing room together. Gwen had agreed, and they made their way there together, talking the whole way. They continued taking while they were outside the changing room, until they were interrupted. “Ahem.” Gwen froze soon as she heard that, she knew exactly who it was without turning around, but she did anyway. Sure enough, it was Heather. For a moment Heather didn’t say anything, she flicked her eyes between Gwen and Trent a couple of times before she plastered on the fakest smile Gwen had ever seen, then she made her way over to Trent. “Hey babe.” Heather said in a sickeningly sweet tone that made Gwen want to rip her own ears off. Then Heather proceeded to kiss Trent fully on the mouth, and Gwen had a sudden urge to go find a fork and gauge her own eyes out with it. Gwen was just thinking to herself that Heather was kissing Trent for way longer than was necessary when Gwen felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around and came face to face with her best friend. “Zoey.” Gwen said with relief, Gwen was so happy she had an excuse to leave. “Uh, you said wanted to check out that new restaurant after the game, right?” Gwen asked, thinking quickly. Zoey blinked in confusion. “Did I say that?” Zoey asked. “Yes, you did.” Gwen said, subtly flicking her eyes toward Trent and Heather. Please get me out of here. Gwen really hoped Zoey would get the message. Zoey’s eyes flicked to Trent and Heather, then back to Gwen, then her eyes widened with understanding. “Oh yeah, I did say that. Thanks for reminding me.” Zoey said. Thank you. “Alright, then let's get going.” Gwen said, grabbing Zoey’s as she started to head towards the exit of the field. “Uh, bye Gwen.” Gwen heard Trent say, and Gwen turned around, she was surprised that Trent had noticed. Gwen made eye contact with him, and it seemed like Trent was trying to convey something to her with his eyes, was he sad that Gwen was leaving? It could have easily been confusion as well, mor maybe it was nothing. “Bye.” Gwen said, and with that, she turned around and left with Zoey.

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you

Been here all along, so why can't you see

You belong with me You belong with me

The End

[thebestestboyo]

Hey, I miss you

A little story with our snake boy Janny, since I love him, and with King, because I love him too

Tw: Angst/Hurt-Comfort/Swearing/Self Hatred

Why couldn't he do anything right?

Janus paced back and forth across his room after the recent video, his capelet and hat already discarded at the door. As much as Patton finally admitting he wasn't right all the time was wonderful for Thomas's mental health, the fact that Roman hated him now vastly outweighed the little win.

Remus probably hated him too! He had insulted both of them with that remark...

"It's a good thing you don't have a mustache Roman, or I wouldn't know who the evil twin is."

Damn it, this is why he was originally named Deceit. Because all he did was lie and mess things up and even if Thomas accepted him that didn't mean the others would.

As he continued his frantic pacing, he caught himself in the large mirror he had within his room. Usually, he used it to make sure his outfit covered as much of his scales as possible whenever he'd see the others, or to fix his cufflinks. It was usually covered with a sheet right after, but for the moment, he could see his reflection staring back at him.

His clothes were an absolute wreck, disheveled and hanging off him in all the wrong ways. The button up he wore under his suit was half done, none of the buttons matching up in the right spots, only made more prominent by the lack of capelet.

His scales were the worst of all. A sickly looking green reminiscent of what one's insides look like after expelling a particularly bad meal. They always seemed to turn this way after Janus was feeling low.

Well, usually he wasn't this low. Not enough to make them that shade at least.

Except...well, there was that one time.

When King split.

That night comes back in his nightmares in perfect detail. The screaming. The sound of bones shifting, lungs gasping for air, and then two bodies slumping to the ground. The day that Janus's favorite person (though you'd never hear him say it out loud) was taken from him.

It wasn't long before the barrier was up. The one that kept the sides apart, the 'light' ones able to be with Thomas, and the 'dark' ones left to live in the shadows. Remus was left at the doorstep of the Others, while Roman was nowhere to be found. Presumably with the light sides.

Neither of them remembered anything.

Neither of them remembered him.

He had tried to get Remus to remember him, but him never showed any signs of recognition. As time wore on, he grew accustomed to it. Remus was his friend, and that was it.

Until the first time Virgil rose up in front of Thomas.

Janus was the gatekeeper of the Others, doomed to it when the existence of them was too much for Thomas to handle. Virgil wasn't supposed to be able to do that. Right?

Wrong. Virgil could. And he did.

So...couldn't Janus do the same?

If not to merely see what damage the barrier had sustained...for curiosity's sake.

(He really just wanted to see Roman.)

He had expected for the light sides to be surprised. He didn't expect Virgil to be surprised as well about the newfound ability for Janus (or, well, to them he was Deceit) to be able to do that as well. And he didn't expect Roman to hate him.

That's right. Roman seemed to hate him.

That was enough to make his scales turn, and it was almost too much to have it all go sour. Again, and again, and again.

Maybe he should stop trying.

They wouldn't really care much, especially after the backlash from the wedding.

Might as well tell Remus about this. The Others might live together, but it wasn't as if they were all close. And he did have to make sure Remus was alright after that, he probably heard the yelling earlier, even from his room.

He didn't even bother putting back on his hat or capelet at this point. It wasn't like Remus hadn't seen him a mess before.

Padding over to his room, he knocked once, before pushing open the door, only to see-

"Janny?" "It's you."

Oh. Roman and Remus. He better go. They were probably both angry and he didn't want to hurt them any more.

"I'm sorry, I can go-"

"Wait-"

"You probably don't want to deal with me."

"Janus just-"

"I'll let you two talk."

"Just listen!" Both of them in sync, reached for him, bumping into each other in the process. One bright flash of light resulted, and before him stood...

"...King?"

He didn't even seem to realize that he was now in fact one person instead of two, gasping dramatically as he glanced down at himself. "I...I think???"

Janus was close to tears at this point, but he didn't feel it was right for him to go barrelling into Romulus's chest like he used to. "I'll...I'll let you get reaccquainted with yourself..."

"Janus, just- Just listen for a moment. Okay?"

He still wasn't certain that he'd be forgiven for all the mistakes he made, but if King was back, then what he was saying must be important.

"Alright."

"We- I. Definitely I now. At least I think. I'm a little confused myself about this all, but let's get a few things clear. I know part of me, well, Roman hurt you. And you hurt him too. I won't deny that. But hey, right now, I just..." He gestured wildly while he attempted to come up with the right words, not realizing Janus was waiting with baited breath. "I miss you. And I get that I should be angry, but honestly, I'm sorta a dick myself sometimes. So...I forgive you. Even if Roman won't say it. And...I hope you forgive me too."

And this is when Janus started to cry.

"Oh no no nonono I'm sorry! I'm sorry my love! Was it something I said? Do I need to kill someone?" Rushing to Jan's side, he lifted up the smaller side, holding him close.

"I-I'm just, so happy that, that you're back and you're not mad and me and-" Janus knew he was rambling, but he couldn't seem to stop himself because this was Romulus and he was home and maybe they'd get a second chance to fix things.

Romulus pressed a kiss to Jan's forehead, listening diligently as his lover told him everything, even if he might not remember it when he was split again. They both knew that this wasn't permanent, but at least they knew they had some time.

"I'm sorry to hear of how you've suffered without me, my little piece of Eden. How could I possibly make it up to you?"

Looking up at him, Jan felt as if this was enough. But knowing the King, he'd want to at least do something more.

"Sing me a song please? It's been so long since I've heard you sing."

And so there they stood, Janus in his arms wrapped around him. And as Romulus sang, they forgot that this was temporary. If at least for a little while.

[thestarsaroundyourscars]

#70 for the prompt thing please!

70. “I got you something! I remember you mentioned it before. I hope you like it.” 

Read on AO3

“There’s the cutest birthday boy!”

Eddie startled and looked up to find Richie peering inside the room. Through the open door, he was able to hear the noise from the party and he gestured for Richie to get inside. “Close the door or people will know I’m here.” 

Here being hiding in Bill’s room. 

Richie snorted but slid inside, keeping his back against the wall and one of his hands hidden from Eddie’s view. 

“Already bored from your own party?” 

Eddie shook his head, leaning back on the bed. “I just needed a break. Did anyone notice I left?”

“Nah, just me.” Richie said. “Here to crash your one-man only party.”

Eddie heaved a dramatic sigh, “Fine, I guess.” He said but he was smiling as he patted the space next to him on the bed. He didn’t mind that Richie found him, he knew it was only a matter of time before he noticed Eddie was missing and wandered off looking for him. If Eddie was being honest with himself, he had kind of hoped he would. He enjoyed the time he spent alone with Richie.

He narrowed his eyes, watching Richie walk towards the bed, his hand still tucked behind him. “What do you have there?” 

“I got you something.” Richie said, flopping down on the bed. Eddie frowned, confused. Richie and the other losers already gave him a present, as well as pitched in to throw Eddie a party. “It’s not a big deal, just something that I remember you mentioned before.” 

He pulled a neatly wrapped box from behind him and shoved it at Eddie. “What is it?” He asked then he narrowed his eyes at Richie. “And if you say your dick I will hit you in the balls.”

Richie grinned playfully. “Kinky.” He said, Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s not my dick Eds, you know it wouldn’t fit in that box.”

Eddie snorted, giving him a gentle shove. “Yeah right.”

“I can show you if you want.” Richie winked. “But later, now open your gift.” 

“Okay okay.” Eddie chuckled, looking down at the box. It was neatly wrapped, with a red bow on top. Eddie removed the bow and ripped off the paper. Richie’s leg was bouncing, he could feel the bed shaking from it and his friend was buzzing with nervous energy, watching Eddie’s face and his reaction closely.

He put his hand inside the box, feeling something soft. He held it up in front of him and let out a gasp. “Oh my god, Rich! My thundercats t-shirt, but how did you⎯”

“It’s not your shirt exactly, your mother probably gave that away as soon as you outgrew it.” Richie said, not meeting Eddie’s questioning eyes. “I ordered it online after that day⎯ when we were watching videos. I know it’s kind of silly but I hope you like it.”

“It’s not silly.” Eddie said, smiling softly at Richie. He remembered the day Richie was talking about. The two of them had been doing homework in their room. After a while, Richie had climbed on Eddie’s bed and annoyed him into taking a break. They ended up watching youtube videos and at some point the Thundercats theme song video had started playing. 

“Do you remember I used to have a t-shirt from this show?” Eddie told him, mouthing the lyrics to the theme song even if he hadn’t heard it in years. 

“You did? Uh, I don’t remember.”

Eddie nodded, chuckling. “Yeah, I did. It was my favorite, my mom hated it.” 

Richie rolled his eyes. “Your mom hated everything you wore unless it was bubble wrap Eds.” 

Eddie had shoved him and they’d kept watching videos until they couldn’t ignore their homework anymore.

Now, Eddie smiled down at the shirt. It looked exactly like the one he owned when he was a kid. The one Richie claimed he didn’t remember.

Eddie smirked at him, Richie narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“You told me you didn’t remember my shirt.” 

“Because I didn’t.”

“You didn’t remember and you found one that looks exactly the same?” Eddie’s smirk grew, especially when he saw Richie fidgeting nervously. “That’s bullshit.”

Richie let out a sigh. “Fine, I remember. Of course I remember. I just didn’t want you to know that I paid so much attention to you when we were kids.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because it’s embarrassing Eds.”

Eddie nudged his shoulder. “I think it’s cute.”

“Hey, no! You’re the cute one, shut up.” Richie chuckled, nudging him back. 

Eddie felt his face slip into what he knew must be an overly affectionate look but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t expecting a gift from Richie, let alone one that was so thoughtful and sweet. The gesture did nothing to quiet the ever growing crush he had on his best friend. In fact, it made his stomach twist up in knots the way it did whenever Richie smiled at him a certain way and his pulse quicken like it did when Richie was close, all at the same time. 

“What?” Richie asked after Eddie only stared at him for a while.

“Nothing. I just⎯ I love it. Thank you Rich.” On impulse, Eddie leaned forward and kissed his cheek. 

Richie blushed and looked at Eddie like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh yeah sure. You’re welcome Eds.” He cleared his throat. “Will you use it? I remember you looked really cute in it when we were kids.”

“You used to say I looked cute in everything.”

Richie chuckled, shrugging. “Well you did but especially in that shirt and those red short shorts.”

Eddie felt the tips of his ears start to burn, he stood up. “Well I don’t have those shorts anymore but⎯” He cut himself off to pull his shirt over his head, he heard Richie choke on his spit.

“Uh. Usually is the birthday boy who gets the striptease, not the other way around.” He said, voice strained. 

“Shut up.” Eddie said with no real bite. He folded his shirt, placed it on the bed before putting on Richie’s gift. It fit him perfectly. “What do you think?” 

“You look cute, just like I remembered.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie stood between Richie’s legs, forcing Richie to look up at him.

“Yeah, I like it. A lot.” He raised his hands, placing them on Eddie’s hips, his own hands settled on Richie’s shoulders, fingers toying with the hair on the back of his neck. Richie’s eyes were fixed on his own fingers where they played with the hem of Eddie’s new shirt. He was frowning and Eddie could practically see the wheels turning in his head. After what felt like forever, Rihie opened his mouth, then he closed it and then he opened it again. “I like you a lot Eds.”

Eddie’s fingers stilled, his stomach fluttering wildly. It wasn’t the first time Richie said those words but his hesitation and the small voice in which he said it told Eddie that it was different this time.

“I like you a lot too Rich.” 

Richie’s eyes met his and both their faces broke into matching grins. Without a word, Richie stood up, back to towering over Eddie. They both leaned in at the same time, their lips meeting in a short, chaste kiss that made Eddie’s heart beat rapidly. 

They broke apart to stare at each other, Richie’s fingers were still playing with the hem of Eddie’s shirt, Eddie looked down at them. “I think this is my new favorite shirt.” He said.

“It’s definitely mine too.” Richie replied, grinning. “Happy birthday Eds.”

“Mm, it really is.” Eddie said, leaning up to kiss Richie again. 

A special thank you to @thundercatseddie for helping me come up with the gift. 

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh​ @yes-dillman-yes​ @richietoaster​ @beepbeeprichiellc​ @its-stranger-than-you-think​ @lemonaayyee​ @losers-gotta-stick-together​ @tinyarmedtrex​ @richiefuckfacetozier​ @sam-i-am2468​ @richardtoz​ @s-s-georgie​ @reddie-for-anything​ @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​ @constantreaderfool​ @thundercatseddie​ @jesuschristsupruvestar​ @mirandonsky​ @proton-disaster-blaster​ @alargedepresso​ @purplepoisonedgem​ @pan-ini​ @reddie-to-cryy​ @reddieforlove​ @trashmouthnick​ @multi-fandom-wby​ @wheezyeds​ @nancynwheeler​ @did-someone-say-reddie​ @madi-personal​ @reddie-tozibrak​ @lover-mouth​ @atownofeggs​ @that-weird-girls-blog​ @appojoos​ @castielwinovak​ @fuck-the-sushi​ @twoidiotsinl0ve​ @typewrxter​ @fcngirltrxsh​ @spirited-marvel​ (if you want to be added, let me know!)

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being An Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 3

Summary: You, a fantasy-loving LARPing human from Earth, got dropped into a fantasy land that seems familiar to you, but you had no recollection of it. Lord Fabulous Elvenking gave you three days to find the portal that would take you home with the aide of Blue-Eyes and a host of Elves, but what you found instead was the portal was closed for another thousand years. On the way back, you saved Legolas's life, prompting Thranduil to grant you freedom, and after, you finally realized where you were; Middle-Earth. Thranduil summons the council, which is made up of powerful wizards and Elves, to decide what should be done with you...

Chapter No.: Chapter 3

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: I think Pippin's song matches the reader's situation very much, which is why I use it so often. I mean, your character fell from everything they know, their "home," and now they can't go back, but now they have this whole magical world and life ahead of them... Grief and sorrow, but things to look forward to in the future.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, The fucking Silmarillion, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

When you woke up, you found yourself blinded by a stupidly bright light that singed your retinas off. "What the hell?" You shielded your eyes as you tried to find the source.

Oh.

It was Thranduil, and beside him, Legolas, the two so bright they could be hung on your porch as bug-zappers.

Ohhhh...

You were in Middle-Earth. Right. Without any memory of it except for bits and pieces. You did remember that you'd watched the movies so many times that you could've recited each line in your sleep and then some, but you couldn't remember anything but what pieces you randomly dreamed of or remembered, which were already starting to fade.

"Hi. Can I help you with something in my half-starved state?"

Blue-Eyes desperately fought a smirk. Thranduil was less impressed. "My son tells me you lost consciousness because of a lack of sustenance. What sort of repayment is that for my favor to you, may I ask?"

You cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse the fuck outta you, Thrandy, but I just learned about a week and a half ago I'd never see my family again. Forgive me if I got upset."

Blue-Eyes turned his head away, trying really hard not to laugh...

"Also," You went on with a forced cocky smile, "I just learned that I'm in Middle-Earth. Where I come from, all this-- the palace, the land, even your fancy Elven toilets-- were created by some old guy called J. R. R. Tolkien, collectively referred to as 'Jrrt.' Now, I don't remember a goddamn thing except for bits and pieces of dialogue and song, even though I knew the stories by heart."

Thranduil and Blue-Eyes-- who was no longer trying not to laugh-- eyed each other suspiciously. "You knew of this place in your world?"

You nodded. "It's very well-known. But, everybody thinks it's fiction. Unaccesible. And be glad about that, too, because if there were a well-known way to get here, there'd be lots of war, new diseases, and this place would be turned to shit, too."

Thranduil stared at you for a minute, before abruptly turning to Legolas. "Son, I am off to the throne room. I shall summon the council at once."

You waited until he left to ask what that meant.

Blue-Eyes smiled slightly. "Meaning, he is not quite certain what should be done with you. The council is made up of some of the oldest and wisest of Middle-Earth, including the wizards and those of my kin, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien, and Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell. Do any of those names sound familiar to you?"

You shrugged. "It doesn't matter if they sound familiar or not. I never remember what anybody looks like. I just get an eerie sense of deja vu."

Blue-Eyes raised an eyebrow. "Deja... Vu?"

You sat up more, rolling your eyes. "It means having a sense of familiarity, like, really strongly. Whatever. Tell me who the wizards are."

Blue-Eyes sat at the end of your bed. "The most powerful of the wizards is Saruman the White, who resides in Isengard, on the edge of Fangorn Forest and the Gap of Rohan. The second is Mithrandir, who is most commonly known as Gandalf the Gray by most folk. The third is the much less-known-of and reclusive Radagast the Brown, but I doubt my father will request his presence; he dislikes his excessive behavior." He raised an eyebrow. "Have you heard of them?"

You nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah. So if I'm an Elf, do I like, have to learn how to act like an Elf, or should you let these really important people decide what to do after they've seen who I am?"

"The latter," Blue-Eyes specified, "But it would still be beneficial to learn Elvish. It should take them quite awhile to arrive; between now and then, you should learn as much of it as possible, after I've given you a tour of Mirkwood."

You made a wheel-like motion with your hands. "After I've eaten and taken a bath, I know."

Blue-Eyes patted your leg. A jolt of electricity shot from where he touched you. What the hell? "Good," He stood and started to leave the room. "I will leave you to your own; there is food on the nightstand, and after, a bath across the bridge there," He pointed, and as you looked across the way seen Elves.

Bathing.

Blushing, you looked to Blue-Eyes wildly. "I-I'm supposed to take a bath with other people."

Blue-Eyes frowned in confusion. "Do you not, from your world?"

"Um, no. We all bathe alone. Where I come from, one's own body is considered... Private, to everybody except your doctor or significant other."

"Oh, I see. I could have a private bath prepared for you, if you wish for it," He answered with a smile. "Even here, we may want to bathe on our own to relax. It would not be a problem." He sneered down at you. "I would not want you bathing in the shared springs anyway. You'd dirty the whole lot of them."

With a very childish glare, you stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to have the oddest look he'd had yet. You'd noticed something about him; he had the unique ability to create a range of dynamically comical expressions. "What are you doing?"

You took up a dramatically serious tone. "I am expressing the 'fuck you' gesture in an immature and childish manner used worldwide, even among the youngest." With that, you stuck your tongue out again.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Very well, then, Sairen, your bath will be ready for you when you are finished with your meal. I will send someone for you in an hour, if that suits you."

"That suits me perfectly fine, but I beg your fucking pardon, was that 'fuck you' in Elvish?"

Legolas grinned. "Not at all, mellon. It means 'fiery' in our tongue."

"Okay." A wry smile spread across your face. "That I can deal with. But what does 'melon' mean? Both you and Tauriel have called me that so far."

Legolas smiled as he began to close the double-doors, though what they did to block you when the room had only two-foot tall walls, you had no idea. "Mellon. It means, 'my friend.'"

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as he smiled-- for once, genuinely-- at you. You found yourself smiling back as he closed your doors. When he was gone, your smile toned down a bit, and you took a long, deep breath.

You were still upset. Very. On the inside, you felt torn to pieces. You figured it would be a long, long time before you grief lessened, if it ever did. But now that you knew where you were... It was different. You were sure of something. Where you were, and the fact that the Firemoon Portal would only open every thousand years. If you went back then, you'd already be connected to this world, and everyone in it. If time passed the same, your family would be gone, and you'd be mortal again, without a way to wait for the portal to reopen so that you could return to your new friends here.

But... You knew your family. They'd never forget you, and never stop grieving your loss. But, if they thought you might be somewhere better than Earth, and there was no way back... They'd want you to be happy. They'd want you to make a new life. They wouldn't want you to waste your life starving yourself.

You'd miss them... More than anything...

But for now...

You moved the silver platter on your nightstand to your lap, and started eating.

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

And there are many paths to tread...

***

"No, no," Tauriel corrected you. "Mae govannen."

"Mae govAHnnen."

Tauriel bit back an exasperated sigh. "Well... You're close enough."

You'd been in Mirkwood for nearly a month now, not counting the days of your imprisonment and searching for the portal. You wondered what made Thranduil (Who you still called 'Lord Fabulous' on occassion.) release you and treat you as an Elf, and as it turns out, it was Blue-Eyes himself.

Speaking of, you hadn't seen him in days... He kind of... Disappeared. There was still talk of him, and no one seemed to be worried, so you weren't; for Elves that lived forever, you bet anything that he had princely exploring and regular adventuring to do to keep him occupied.

Around the time he left, Tauriel approached you and asked if you knew any Elvish. Aside from sairen and mellon, you knew less than zero. Apparently, it was considered good Elven manners to at least speak a greeting to guests in their own language, despite what Leggy had said. Meaning, to different members of the council, you had to speak a greeting in Quenyan-- which was different from Sindarin, the most common Elvish language-- Common, and Sindarin. You'd memorized the lines, but it was the pronunciation that really befuddled your non-billingual ass.

Now, you'd pretty much gotten the Quenyan greeting: Mae govannen. It meant well met or something along those lines, but you had to add Lord Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell. I am at your service. Which was much longer and much more complicated. All in all, it pretty much came out to, Mae govannen, Cundo Elrond Peresta-Elda mi Arcimbele. Nanye ketya veume.

English (Common.) was equally as long: Greetings, Gandalf the Gray, Mithrandir, and Saruman the White of Isengard. Welcome to these halls. I am at your service as well, should you need it.

And lastly, to Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, you had to say the most: And ana lye, Heri Galadriel and Cundo Celeborn, elen sila lumenn omentielvo. Nanye aistana et ketya toled.

And to you, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, a star shines upon the hour of our meeting. I am blessed from your coming.

It was all a mouthful. A regal, elegant mouthful, but a mouthful that your tongue had trouble forming. In addition to all the greetings, you had to address them each in order; first Elrond, then the wizards, then Galadriel and Celeborn at once.

They'd arrived a few days ago, but you hadn't actually been summoned yet. You wondered what Thranduil had told them about you so far. He seemed like the type to exaggerate and make shit up: They're nothing but an abomination! They almost killed Legolas! They tried to kill me! They're dangerous and should be restrained! They toilet-papered my throne room!

The elaborate horns blowing signaled something evidently important; Tauriel's face lit up. "Mellon, it is Legolas! He has returned!"

Despite yourself, your heart jumped like a schoolgirl's. Blue-Eyes was back! "Really?! How do I look? Does it look like I've been taking care of myself?" Legolas would kill you if you weren't. Over the weeks, the blue hair dye had left your hair, returning it to its [h/c] color, even if you did still spike it up-- you'd been an outcast your whole life, so having short spiky hair when everybody else had long, flowing hair made you feel at home. You were dressed in dark browns, nearly blacks, in an outfit very similar to a tunic over leggings, knee-high boots, and all finished up with a long jacket, closed with Elven buckles.

"You look fine, [Y/N]," Tauriel assured you absentmindedly, and the two of you trotted down the many, many stairs and bridges to get to the massive front doors of the palace.

Thranduil and a host of other Elves were greeting Legolas, who looked as if he'd been in Sparkle Land for the last couple weeks. His clothes were in prestine condition. His hair was perfectly plaited away from his face. He wore a faint smile, as if whatever he'd been doing hadn't been stressful at all.

You and Tauriel arrived just as Thranduil finished speaking. "And you failed to locate them?"

Legolas held himself regally. "My apologies, my king. It will not happen again."

Thranduil glared down at him. "I should hope not. You will leave again in three days' time, after you have properly greeted our guests." As Thranduil spun on his heel to leave, Blue-Eyes bowed, rising up again as he seen you and Tauriel.

"Tauriel," He said, his face lighting up. She bowed slightly; apparently Elves didn't hug. He grinned snarkily when he seen you. "And [Y/N]. Last I saw you, your hair was strangely sky-hued."

You scoffed. "You can't even say sky-colored? You have to say sky-hued? Stupid Elves and their fancy ways. Good to see ya anyway, Blue-Eyes, even if you're a priss."

"I believe you mean prince."

You laughed, but it faded when he turned to Tauriel and started speaking in Elvish. He lead her away, talking, leaving you on your own. Your face fell. You wanted to tell him that you knew some greetings. You wanted to say you wanted to go with him when he left again. And the fact that you were already alone here only amplified the feeling of... Jealousy? Disappointment?

You watched them leave for a minute, before deciding you'd take a walk in the Mirkwood-- maybe it'd clear your mind. You nearly rammed into an Elf in turning around. "Whoops."

"Nothing to apologize for," the Elf said; thankfully, they'd caught on to Earth slang and understood you most of the time, instead of just assuming you were insulting them. "Thranduil Elvenking has summoned you to his councilroom. The council awaits you."

Your mouth went dry. All the feelings about Legolas ignoring you vanished in an instant. Oh shit. "I-I don't know where that is. You'll take me there, right?"

"Of course," Said the Elf, and lead the way through the twisting halls. He stopped before the one room of the palace that was actually sealed off from the rest besides the dungeons, with doors almost as big as the ones that lead out of the palace. "Here you are. They're waiting for you." He smiled slightly. "A word of advice for the introductions: let King Thranduil introduce you to them before you say your greetings." You bowed slightly in the Elven way as you thanked him.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous as hell. Meeting a bunch of people, really important people... You'd met some important people before: soldiers were the main ones you'd met, aside from a couple of astronauts. Other than that...

Taking a hugely amplified deep breath, you opened the door.

Inside was a wide winding staircase lit  by gorgeously-crafted Elven wall sconces of stained glass and copper metalwork shaped into vines. Every step seemed to echo, and when you reached the top of the staircase, your breath was ripped from you. It was a pavilion. A pavilion in the one place you loved above all else: the sky.

Rails kept anybody from falling off, and it was roofed, so that you could come up here even in the rain. Birds chirped melodiously, and from here, you felt as if you could see all of Middle-Earth. Behind you was a huge mountain range-- you'd never seen mountains before. They were beautiful, snow-capped, and gigantic; the Misty Mountains, obviously. All around you, stretching as far as you could see south and a long way east and west and north, was the Mirkwood, and to the west and north were vast plains, hills, and valleys. Leaves, gold and copper, swirled around the pavilion, giving it an ethereal look. To the west, where you were facing, was a silver lake, wide and glittering in the midday sun. Standing tall and proud beside it was Erebor, home to the King Under the Mountain; currently, Thror. You didn't know why that name seemed so important, though.

You must've turned around in at least a dozen three-sixties, trying to take in what you were seeing. Even if you didn't remember most of it, here you were. You were seeing it, for real and for true, in person, in the home of one of the most revered Elves of Middle-Earth. It seemed unreal, like at any moment, you'd wake up.

A bird, queerly tame, flitted up by your face and up into the rafters; she carried food for her young, and you watched them with a smile, still in disbelief of the views.

A long sigh snapped you out of your trance. Shit. Thranduil waved at you absentmindedly. "Are you daft, vermin? I just introduced you to the council."

"O-oh--"

"Now, now, Thranduil," A wizard chuckled warmly; he wore blue and gray robes, with an immense beard and long hair. Gandalf. "If they really are of another world, then they are obviously stunned by the land. Have you not shown them their new home properly?"

Thranduil nobly facepalmed.

Meanwhile, you realized that it wasn't just Gandalf sitting there smoking his pipe.

Another wizard, this one with long, straight white hair and an equally perfect white beard, in blinding white robes with a white staff: Saruman the White. You didn't know why you got bad vibes from this guy. Beside him sat another Elf, casually, an ankle on his knee and an elbow resting on his higher leg to hold up his head with two fingers. He wore robes of brown and purple, and his long brown hair was held back with a silver Elvish circlet. That had to be Elrond; he looked amused, so you felt kind of relieved. On his left sat a guy who practically glowed, with long blonde hair and white and blue robes. Celeborn. Standing off to the side, with a kind smile like Gandalf, in a billowy white dress with a beautiful Elven circlet made of fine chains and teardrop jewels was a woman, a she-Elf, putting off wisdom-vibes stronger than Gandalf's. Her curling golden hair went well past her waist, and she held herself regally. Out of everyone in this room, she seemed to be the oldest, and the most knowledgeable.

Your Elvish greetings flew right out of your head for a minute, before Thranduil reintroduced you. "This is the council. With us are wizards Saruman the White and Gandalf the Gray, Lord Elrond of House Rivendell, and Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien. Councilmembers, this is [Y/N], the one who appeared from a portal we knew nothing of-- and if I must repeat this once more, I swear to the Valar, I shall throw you off of this pavilion."

Gandalf actually chuckled at that, as did Elrond, while Celeborn cracked a smile. Galadriel seemed to find this all regally amusing. You bowed like Tauriel had showed you. At least, you'd mastered that part. "Mae govannen, Cundo Elrond Peresta-Elda mi Arcimbele. Nanye ketya veume. Greetings, Gandalf the Gray, Mithrandir, and Saruman the White of Isengard. Welcome to these halls. I am at your service as well, should you need it. And ana lye, Heri Galadriel and Cundo Celeborn, elen sila lumenn omentielvo. Nanye aistana et ketya toled."

Elrond looked impressed. "Well, Thranduil, you have certainly trained them well." Thranduil watched you with wide eyes. He hadn't known of your lessons. Suck it, Lord fucking Fabulous.

Celeborn bowed his head. "Your pronunciation is nearly perfect. Well done, young one. However, I doubt you know much else of our tongue yet, so for your sake, we shall converse in Common, if that suits you."

You almost said, It does. Thanks! But that sounded too disrespectful. "Thank you very much." You smiled, and took a seat when Thranduil waved you to the only empty one aside from Galadriel's.

Saruman started off with a wary tone. "Thranduil tells us you come from another world. Is this true?"

Out of the corner of your eyes, you seen Thranduil roll his eyes. "Yes, sir. I come from a place called Earth."

The councilmembers exchanged glances. "That sounds strikingly similar to Middle-Earth," Said Gandalf, and raised an eyebrow. "Are there any similarities between this world, and yours?"

You shook your head sadly. "Not anymore. My people ruined it. There aren't many places like this anymore."

Saruman stiffened. "Then what happens if your people find the portal? Surely, they will try to ruin this, as well?"

You made a face. "They would, yeah, but my people are also really stupid. It'd take a stupid accident and a lot of chance to fall through that portal again, and Legolas said that it only opened once every time a Firemoon happens."

"Legolas?" Elrond asked, curiously, as if this hadn’t been mentioned before. Of course it hadn’t.

You nodded, unsure of why you suddenly had to fight a flush at the mention of his name. "He helped me find the portal with some of his Elven friends when I first got here. We found writing-- he said it was used before the time of even Gondolin. I don't know when that is; is that a long time ago?"

"Very," Replied Gandalf. "Odd... A portal of that magnitude would have to be created by wizards of some sort, especially at such a time..."

A thought suddenly popped into your head. "Some people think we have magic," You piped up, and all eyes were suddenly on you. "But it never works. Not effectively. Just standard hocus-pocus and the power of suggestion. But hundreds of years ago, there was this really mysterious guy who they say really did have magic, which he used to help others. His name was Merlin; he looked kinda like you, Gandalf. But he was in another country, where I come from; where I was when I fell wasn't anywhere near where he traveled."

Saruman narrowed his bird-like eyes. "Then what relevance is this?"

"Because if there was one wizard like you guys in the past," You pointed out, "Why couldn't there be others? There's so much we don't know about history-- we're more intent on wiping out what we don't understand. What if the wizards traveled between worlds and time? Hell, they could be you guys from the future, and it just hasn't happened yet."

"They have a point, Saruman," Gandalf agreed, much to your relief. You didn't think they'd understand the concept of time travel.

"There is nothing we can do about the portal now," Elrond said decisively. "It is closed, and if we tried to destroy it, we could only do damage. It is an easy enough position to defend; should an army come through, they'd have only one entryway."

"Says who?" Saruman challenged. "There could be other portals we do not know of, some that people have not had the misfortune of falling into yet. How do we know that this invader is not a spy to seek out these portals and prepare them for war?"

You fought a sigh. Damn this small-minded son of  a bitch... You tried to think of something smart ass to say, but nothing fit the situation.

"They are not, Saruman." Lady Galadriel's voice was sudden, light, and smooth, like honey. It radiated outward with an undeniable power that could make anybody listen to her. "Their thoughts do not lead there." Shit. I mean crap. I mean dang. Mind reader. "They are afraid, and worried... They miss the family they left behind, but they are willing to make a life here, since they have no way of returning."

You nodded. "My thanks, my lady."

Lady Galadriel bowed her head in response.

"Build a life?" Saruman inspected you carefully from where he sat. "You are nothing but an infiltrator. Why should we allow you a place among the citizens of Middle-Earth?"

"It does not have to be here," Thranduil pointed out, and your heart shot to your ankles. "You have an unfortunate habit of collecting needy strays, Elrond; why don't you take them with you when you return to Rivendell?"

Elrond shot him a glare.

Um, I think the fuck not. Lady Galadriel, tell them I say no! Tell them I want to stay here! You thought of the views, and of... of Blue-Eyes...

"Perhaps they should be isolated," Saruman said. "Somewhere they cannot concoct any mischief. Rohan is quite strict, as Gondor is watchful. Either would suffice. Perhaps centuries of isolation in Isengard itself would keep them in line."

"Maybe the Shire would be good for them," Gandalf said. "The hobbits are quite peaceful little creatures. Then again, if isolation is what we are looking for, then Laketown couldn't be better. Or Dale; the dwarves don't let anyone commit any mischief from Erebor."

I don't want to leave...

"Lothlorien would perhaps be suitable," Celeborn added. "Or, maybe even the mines of Moria. I do not have much love for dwarves, but they would be kind enough to them."

"What," Interrupted Galadriel, "Does the subject of our conversation think of this?"

Silence fell. You took a deep breath. "I... I'd like to stay here." You seen Thranduil's head turn slowly to look at you, and you could hear him thinking, the fuck did you just say? "Please, my lord."

A tense silence fell over the room. Finally, Thranduil sighed. "I do not want you here, invader. You would have to prove your loyalty and skill beyond a shadow of a doubt."

You perked up. "Legolas is going on some super-secret missions, right? Maybe I could go with him. You trust him of all people to tell you the truth about me, right? So maybe I could prove myself then."

Thranduil thought about this for a moment. "Legolas is hunting for the orcs who are trying to overtake our borders. He found them, but he let them escape, even though they were a small group. He is leaving in three days with reinforcements; you may join him."

You almost visibly sagged with relief. Almost.

"However," Thranduil added, "If I find his report unsatisfactory, you will go with one of the councilmembers and leave Mirkwood. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Elrond nodded to you. "You would have a home in Rivendell. It is the last safe haven of the Elves in Middle-Earth." He gave Thranduil a pointed sideways glance. "My people are welcoming and kind. They would be glad to have you." With a slight roll of his eyes, he gestured to Gandalf. "And of course, Mithrandir..."

Gandalf looked excited. "I would take you on my journeys with me, if you so desired. First, I would take you to the Shire. Very nice people, those hobbits. And of course, dwarves would be next."

"I thank you both," You smiled slightly, and you truly were grateful, but... "Then it is settled," Thranduil said authoritively. "Elrond, Gandalf, you are welcome to stay here until Legolas returns."

"I would be grateful," Elrond said, but Gandalf defiantly snorted. "I, dear Elvenking, already have arranged for lodgings in Laketown. Send for me once they arrive, so that I may know what I must do."

You felt buoyed a little. Gandalf didn't one-hundred-percent think you'd fail. And you wouldn't. You'd kick ass. You'd save Blue-Eyes's ass again. You'd come back triumphant, and Thranduil would have to let you stay.

Wouldn't he?

Thranduil left first with Elrond and Celeborn, followed by Gandalf and Saruman closely. Galadriel looked out over to the lake, all shiny and pretty and with her hair billowing majestically. "Why do you wish to stay among those who do not wish for your presence?"

You were stunned by the question. "I-I don't know... I've lived all my life an outcast... The hated one... I've just grown used to it. Being somewhere where people would be nice to me makes me uncomfortable. But there are a couple of people nice to me, and that's enough."

Galadriel was silent for a moment. "You think of him."

"Uhhh..."

"The prince."

You did blush this time. "I-I don't--"

"You are one of the Eldar now, mellon," Galadriel stated slowly. "Eldar only fall in love once. I have known many who have been broken by that which is unrequited. Do not be one of them."

You thought about her words for a second. "I don't love him... I don't even have like a crush on him or anything..." I've only known him for a couple days, overall.

Galadriel nodded slightly into the breeze. "Sieze it, if the chance arises. But if it does not, or if you do not think it will... I advise you to seek for a home elsewhere." You got the gist. If I do fall for him on my mission, and I know it won't go anywhere... Leave, even if I succeed.

Your heart was heavy at that thought, but you knew she was right. "Thank you, my lady."

"You need not thank a friend for giving advice." She smiled at you, and you left the pavilion with a deep bow, trying desperately not to let your heartstrings fall apart.

Tag List:

@tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​ @hauntedsiriel​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @naryamirie​ @legolasdeserveslove​ @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ @sagabriar​ @brushwood-souls​  @taurlel​

If anybody wants to be tagged, just let me know!

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/60534745

Chapter 21:

The next morning Norbert couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between him and Mortimer and he knew he was going to spend the day trying to make sense out of it. At the same time he wanted to hide what he felt at any cost. It was when he met Matthew again that he noticed how painfully obvious he had been.

„What was up with you yesterday?“, his friend asked right away and Norbert tried to deny it.

„I don’t know what you mean.“

„Well…you didn’t look very happy about Mortimer.“

„But I voted for him, didn’t I?“

„Sure,“ Matthew backed down. „Listen, just give this a chance, okay?“

„I do“, Norbert sounded all innocent.

Then he had an idea.

„Anyway…did you notice something about him yesterday?“

„Now, what do you mean?“. Matthew lifted an eyebrow.

„Uhm…something odd?“ Norbert tried, but he immediately saw that his friend had no clue what he was getting at.

„No“. He shook his head. „You?“

„Uh…it was probably nothing,“ Norbert waved him off, wishing that he had never brought it up.

Matthew eyed him, but Norbert ignored him, so he had to give it up.

„Just talk to him, okay? You’ll see he’s alright,“ he urged him instead

„Okay…“ was the simple answer he got.

Norbert was planning to approach Mortimer anyway, because he needed to test if he still had that unnerving effect on him. The mere thought of meeting him again gave him goosebumps already. But he had to get it over with, now also to convince Matthew that he wasn’t down on Mortimer.

Since he had no clue where to find him, he simply searched the music rooms and actually heard someone play in one of them. When he touched the doorknob he could see his fingers shiver, but now he couldn’t just stand there in the corridor like a coward, so he carefully opened the door and peeked through it to see who was playing. It was indeed Mortimer, who looked up and eyed him, almost exactly like the way he did the day before.

„Hello,“ Norbert said bluntly. „I heard the music and I thought it might be you…“ He paused, then he pulled himself together to ask: „Can I come in?“

Mortimer nodded slightly. „Sure“.

Norbert closed the door behind him and walked over to the piano. It felt like a painfully long way while the other boy was watching him. He stopped at the window and leaned on the board at a safe distance and hoped that Mortimer didn’t notice how nervous he was.

„Sounds great by the way,“ Norbert tried to sound casually. „What are you playing?“

Mortimer crossed his arms and furrowed his brows when he said: „You don’t have to play-act. I know what’s going on with you.“

Now Norbert felt hot and cold at the same time.

„W-what?“, he stuttered, „What do you now?“

„You don’t want me in the band,“ Mortimer said and kept staring daggers at him.

„What?“, Norbert repeated himself. „What gave you that idea?“

He was upset. How could they all misread him so drastically?

„I saw your reaction,“ Mortimer stated and then held up one hand. „No, you don’t have to be sorry. I can bail out of this before I cause a fight.“

„No, no, no! You got it all wrong!,“ Norbert shouted, gesturing wildly.

He completely forgot about the safe distance when he stepped closer to Mortimer.

„You’re exactly what we need!“, he went on and almost grabbed the other boy’s shoulders to shake him. When he realized what he was doing he backed away a bit and crossed his arms.

„I was…busy with something else yesterday“, he explained. Inwardly he begged Mortimer to stay.

Mortimer looked at him in silence before he answered: „If you say so…“

„Absolutely!“, Norbert insisted. „It’s gonna work out just fine with us! I mean…the band,“ he stammered and broke out in sweat, realizing he was still standing way too close to the other boy and was talking nonsense. Instantly he backed away to the window again.

One thing was for certain: the unnerving effect was definitely still there. Norbert felt his strength fading away.

„You know, I think I’ll leave you alone for now,“ he muttered.

„Okay,“ Mortimer simply said and Norbert felt a pang in his chest. As if he had hoped for him to say ‚No, stay with me.‘ But now he had to go, and so he sadly trotted towards the door.

„Oh, Norbert“, he heard Mortimer suddenly call for him and turned around again, eyes wide with hope.

„Yes?“

„You could bring your guitar next time, so we can play together.“

„That’s a great idea!“, Norbert blurted out. „Until next time then, right?“

„Right,“ Mortimer said and Norbert closed the door.

Outside he kept slapping his forehead for acting so damn stupid. He had looked like an absolute beginner! What the hell was Mortimer supposed to think about him now?

In the following lessons Norbert barely listened. After school all he wanted was to hide in the park and play the saddest song he could come up with, since he felt completely worn out and depressed.

Now that he had figured out what his stupid heart wanted from Mortimer, he was left to wonder why it had happened to him, of all people. And how he could make it clear to Mortimer. And even if he did, would it do any good?

Mortimer would possibly think even worse of him if he knew.

Suddenly life wasn’t so beautiful anymore.

After sitting in the park for a few minutes someone disturbed him once more. It was Matthew again, who looked for him.

„Hey, Matt,“ he greeted him much less amused than yesterday. „What’s it this time?“

Matthew sat down in the grass next to him and answered quietly: „It’s about what you said this morning. I asked around about Mortimer if there’s something odd about him…“

Norbert broke out in sweat again. This was getting about way too far.

„Well there’s only a few rumors and I’m sure that’s all bullshit…“, Matthew hummed and hawed and Norbert wondered what an embarrassment his friend had digged out because he couldn’t keep his bloody mouth shut.

„Actually, it’s nothing we must know, but just in case you hear about it…Some say he tried to flirt with a guy…“

Norbert suddenly felt a tickle in his stomach.

„What?“, he said bluntly after he had processed the news.

„Yeah, I know, it’s bullshit,“ Matthew waved him off.

Norbert blinked.

„But why would he do that?“, he insisted.

Matthew rolled his eyes.

„Forget it, okay?“

Because Norbert was only sitting there and staring in silence he added: „You won’t tease him about it, won’t you?“

„No! Of course not,“ Norbert said with a blank stare.

Matthew eyed him suspiciously.

„Just be normal again, please?“

„Okay,“ Norbert sighed and all that was left for Matthew to do was to shake his head and walk away, hoping it would all come together. Norbert instead let himself fall backwards into the grass. The park was beautiful again, all the colors had come back, the birds sang again and the leaves were rustling in the trees above him. He himself remained quiet, watching the clouds go by and smiling.

The next day started way more cheerful. 

Actually Norbert had never been so cheerful at an early morning than today.

He planned to meet Mortimer again to make a much better impression on him. This time he was full of resolution when he made his way to the music room, where he could hear him play already and hummed along with him. His knock at the door was much louder and more confident than yesterday and he opened the door almost solemnly. 

„There he is,“ he said beaming at Mortimer. „My favorite pianist! Are you ready for a jam session? Because I am!“ He ran his fingers over the strings of his guitar and let the sound echo through the room.

Mortimer looked very surprised about the sudden change of mood.

„S-sure. Come in,“ he stuttered a bit and Norbert grinned confidently.

He grabbed a chair and sat down right next to Mortimer, this time he didn’t need a safe distance and he wasn’t shivering. Again he vibed the strings.

„So let’s rock!“, he prompted Morrie who still couldn’t turn his gaze away from him. Then he looked at his sheets of music.

„How about we start right here, in the second stave“, he suggested, pointed at the sheet with a nod and shortly played a melody to demonstrate. Norbert looked at the sheet, his gaze got lost somewhere in the stave before he looked back at the other boy and said with an insecure tone: „Okay.“

Mortimer eyed him again.

„You can read music, right?“

Norbert shrunk a bit.

„No,“ he admitted, „but we don’t need that now, don’t we?“

He straightened himself again and didn’t blink when Mortimer gave him a look.

„And what if you need them some day?“ He wasn’t convinced.

„Didn’t happen yet.“ Norbert shrugged.

Somehow this didn’t work out as planned.

Mortimer wiped his forehead.

„But Norbert, it’s so simple. Listen…“

And then he suddenly started to talk a mile a minute. Norbert listened to his voice in awe and didn’t really pay attention to his words. He was only surprised to hear so many words from Mortimer who was rather taciturn all the time. Then this rebellious hair strand caught his attention again. It was loosening once more, while Mortimer spoke, and Norbert had to fight the urge to reach out and smooth it back. He simply couldn’t stop watching it.

Suddenly Mortimer fell quiet and Norbert jumped at that.

„Are you even paying attention?“ Mortimer didn’t sound very happy.

Norbert stuttered: „..Y-yes..of course.“

„So, what did I say?“, the other boy asked, arms akimbo.

„Uh…“ Now the shivering came back. Nervously, he ran his fingers through his hair while he tried to remember what he heard. 

„Something with…many letters,“ he said desperately and the other boy’s face told him that he didn’t make it any better.

He held up his hands in defense.

„I swear, I’m listening, I just didn’t get it yet! Please, explain it a little more slowly, and perhaps not all at once…“ he pleaded and Mortimer’s expression softened.

„Alright, I guess we have to start with the rudiments.“

When Mortimer began to explain again Norbert noticed that he had to take action or else this would turn into a dry-witted music lesson. So he dared an attack, right when the other boy showed him a chord. He leaned forward and laid his fingers on the keys, quite close besides Mortimer’s hands and his face got so close to the other boy’s that he could almost feel the warmth of his cheek.

„Like this?“, he asked and slowly turned around to Mortimer.

He jumped a little himself, noticing how small the distance between them had become and he was sure that his heart missed a beat the very moment their eyes met. His left arm almost touched Mortimer’s shoulder and he was glad that he didn’t blush easily.

However he was disappointed that Mortimer didn’t flinch at all, even though he locked gazes with him for a while. His look was rather wary.

„Exactly,“ Mortimer simply answered and put away his hand.

„Seems like you’re learning something after all.“

Norbert remained undecided, frozen in his half embrace, until he realized he had to accept his defeat.

„Nah, all beginner’s luck,“ he muttered in frustration and slumped back on the chair.

Then they both were surprised by the school bell.

„Great! Now I’m late because of you,“ Mortimer shouted and bobbed up.

Norbert pouted.

„Wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more charming,“ he muttered when Mortimer ran out.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

Stupid For You

A/N: So I recently stumbled upon this band called Waterparks, and this song just screamed Remile to me for some reason. So here! I wrote a thing! (Also there’s background Moxiety and implied Logince, cause why not!)

Warnings: alcohol mention, kissing, implied NSFW (not really, but it could be seen that way), making out, food mention (lmk if anything should be added!)

Hey, tell me what you want me to say

You know I'm stupid for you

Hey, can you come-a come out and play?

You know I'm stupid for you

Remy lived a simple, routine life. Some would say it was “dreadfully predictable” (his brother, Roman’s words, not his) and that he needed “a spark” or “some pizazz” (again, Roman’s words). But Remy was perfectly happy. Sleep all day, party all night. Oh, and live off of Starbucks. Work was a thing too, he supposed. The bookstore was hella boring, but at least he could flirtatiously tease his best friend, Logan, who ran the place. And Logan didn’t mind that he was late to work half the time, and that he typically strolled in with an iced caffeinated drink in hand. But all of that was upended when the most adorable man Remy had ever seen waltzed into the bookstore, and snatched his heart away on the way out.

I'm color-coding my moods

You're yellow, I'm natural blue

Let's get together and be green like my insides

At least I'll match your eyes

Jealous and hypnotized

Let's match our faces and be equally in love

Remy was fairly certain that Dr. Emile Picani was sunshine personified. Suddenly he understood his brother’s ramblings about needing a spark in his life… Remy just didn’t anticipate getting the whole damn sun. Also, he had the most beautiful sparkling green eyes, which was just unfair. He barely caught half the words the man said as he was checking him out- no, not like that- well, yes like that, but that’s besides the point! The doctor was buying some children’s books… something about a new treatment tactic for his patients. And Remy couldn’t catch anything but his name, thanks to that blinding smile.

Hey, tell me what you want me to say

You know I'm stupid for you

Hey, can you come and come out and play?

You know I'm stupid for you

“Uh, hello? Earth to Remy?” Roman asked, waving his hand in front of his face. Remy shook his head, blinking out of the daydream haze. He promptly realized that he had been aimlessly staring out the window, thinking about Emile. And that it was closing time. And that he promised Roman that they’d hang out after he was done working.

“Sorry gurl, lemme just close up and we can go to this new bar in town,” Remy replied, heading into the back to grab his things. He locked up the cash register, then flicked off the lights and walked outside, Roman following behind him. Remy locked the door to the bookstore before tucking the key in one of the pockets in his messenger bag. Roman’s car was parked out front, and once his brother unlocked the door, he slid into the front seat, putting his feet up on the dash.

“Hey, feet off the dash! Where’s this new bar at?” Roman asked. Remy rolled his eyes, but moved his legs.

“It’s just down the road, hang a right, can’t miss it,” he replied, flicking his shades over his eyes. Roman side-eyed Remy for a moment, then started the car.

“Why are you wearing those? It’s dark out,” Roman pointed out.

“Gurl, I got blinded by a smile made of sunshine today. I need these,” he huffed.

“Drama queen,” his brother muttered.

“Takes one to know one. Just drive, I’ll tell ya when we get there.”

Let's trash our whole afternoon

Reciting recycled news

Until we melt and go back to your hotel room

I'll be your new favorite tune

I'll be your black cloud by June

But only when you miss the rain like I miss you

“So in short, I am a complete disaster gay,” Remy said, once he had explained the whole saga to Roman. The two were sitting at the bar, each of them with a drink in hand.

“I thought you were pansexual?” Roman asked, a perplexed expression upon his face.

“Okay, so I’m a disaster pan. Either way, I’m a disaster,” Remy groaned, setting his drink down and burying his face in his hands. Roman regarded his brother with a curious eye, taking a sip of his drink before speaking up again.

“So… does this mean that you and Logan aren’t dating?”

“Oh. Em. Gee. As if I could stand dating that straight-laced nerd- well, not straight, he’s gay- but the point is he’s got a hell of a stick up his…” Remy trailed off at the look of relief paired with a telltale dreamy gaze in his brother’s eyes. “Holy shit, you have a crush on my best friend.”

“No! Maybe? Not important, we’re discussing your disaster pan problems,” Roman retorted. Remy opened his mouth to snap back, but his train of thought was completely derailed when he saw him out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t wearing his tie and cardigan, instead wearing a pale pink bomber jacket over his white button up, which was tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans. But it was still definitely Dr. Emile Picani, with those green eyes peering out from behind a pair of glasses.

Just double dare me

And I promise now that I'll stay

It's not like you're married but I still got carried away

“Holy shit he’s here,” Remy gasped. Roman raised an eyebrow, then followed his gaze. A wicked smirk grew over his face, and then he grabbed Remy’s arm and started dragging him over to where Emile was standing.

“What are you doing?!” Remy hissed.

“Solving your disaster pan problem,” he replied. Remy tore himself from Roman’s grip, glaring at him indignantly.

“Gurl, I can barely form coherent sentences when I see him! How’s dragging me over to him gonna solve anything?!” Remy protested, hands gesturing wildly.

“Have courage, dear brother! Speak from the heart, don’t hold anything back!” Roman declared, striking a dramatic pose. Remy rolled his eyes at his brother’s behavior, silently praying to whatever god was listening that Emile didn’t notice them.

“Oh, like you have courage when it comes to Logan?” Remy teased. Roman scowled at him for a moment, before schooling his expression.

“If I promise to talk to Logan, will you talk to Emile?” Roman offered. Remy considered for a moment, then sighed.

“Fine. But it’s-”

“Oh hi! You’re the guy from the bookstore, right?” a voice asked from behind him, and he whirled around to see none other than Emile standing there. Remy could have sworn his heart stopped when those emerald green eyes met his dark brown ones.

“Uh… yeah! What’s up, Doc?” Remy replied, laughing nervously and internally cursing his stupid disaster pan brain for not being smooth.

Hey, tell me what you want me to say

You know I'm stupid for you

Hey, can you come and come out and play?

You know I'm stupid for you

Thankfully, Emile broke down into giggles, a delighted flush coming over his face. And oh boy, if Remy wasn’t a disaster before, he definitely was now from the bubbly laughter spilling from the other man’s mouth. He could practically sense his brother’s smirk from behind him.

“Oh, you just made my day! I love cartoons,” Emile said between giggles.

“Yeah! Uh- cartoons are great!” Remy replied, desperately trying to keep his cool. “I’m Remy, by the way.”

“Emile! But I guess you already knew that, huh?” he said with a grin. That smile must have short-circuited Remy’s brain further, because the next thing out of his mouth he had no control over.

“Do you wanna dance?”

You're playing ring around my head

I wear you like a halo

You're a symphony, I'm just a sour note

I'll take what I can get

The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you

And everybody wants you

You're playing ring around my head

I wear you like a halo

You're a symphony, I'm just a sour note

I'll take what I can get

The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you

It was official, Remy was an idiot. He froze the minute the words were out of his mouth. Emile seemed to freeze as well, a deep flush spreading over his face. But then the grin returned, and when he spoke up again, Remy was about 90% sure he had died. Or was dreaming. Either way, there was no way that what was happening was real.

“Sure, I’d love to dance, Rem!” Emile chirped, grabbing Remy’s hand and pulling him to the dance floor. Okay, he was definitely dead because a gorgeously adorable man just agreed to dance with him, and he was given a nickname by said man.

The music was pounding, some pop song that Remy didn’t care to know the name of. But that didn’t matter because Emile was bopping along to the music, seemingly carefree and unaware of the hypnotic effect the sway of his hips was having on Remy and frankly anyone else in the near vicinity. He blinked and shook his head, joining in on dancing to the beat, ignoring the strange twist in his gut that he got whenever he caught someone else looking at Emile. He shouldn’t be jealous, he had just met the man today! And it wasn’t as if they had any sort of commitment to each other…

His train of thought was suddenly cut off by Emile’s hands on his hips, pulling him closer. They were practically pressed against each other as they continued to dance, and Remy was fairly certain his face was bright red. Emile seemed to take notice of this, frowning with concern as he began to pull away. Remy boldly stepped closer, and Emile’s face flashed with concern before twisting to a more confused expression.

“It’s okay, you just surprised me. What also surprised me was seeing you here in the first place,” Remy explained, and Emile gave a shy smile in response.

“I’ll admit, this isn’t usually my type of thing. But my brother, Patton, and his partner invited me out tonight… and of course, they’ve spent most of tonight making out in the corner,” Emile said over the pounding music.

“That’s lame of your brother,” Remy frowned.

“He’s really very sweet! And Virgil- that’s his partner- has been one of my best friends for a while. It’s just that he’s very gay for my brother,” Emile laughed. “But I’m glad I found you.”

Hey, tell me what you want me to stay

You know I'm stupid for you

Hey, can you come-a come out and play

You know I'm stupid for you

That was it, Emile was definitely going to be the end of Remy. Sweet and adorable, yet incredibly gorgeous and alluring. He wasn’t sure just how much more of this he could take!

“Emile- I… what’s happening?” Remy blurted. Emile grinned again, and he was fairly sure his heart was about to leap out of his chest with how fast it was beating. Emile leaned closer, and all of Remy’s thought processes seemed to cease.

“What do you want to happen?” Emile purred into his ear. On the outside, Remy seemed stock-still and silent, but on the inside he was screaming and everything was on fire. Emile pulled away to look him in the eyes, his grin having morphed into more of a playful smirk.

“I- um… well…” Remy trailed off, seemingly unable to form words. Emile’s smile became soft once more, and he wrapped his arms around Remy’s waist, his touch like tingling fire.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked sweetly. Remy’s eyes flew wide, and he barely nodded before surging forward and capturing Emile’s lips with his own.

You're playing ring around my head

I wear you like a halo

You're a symphony, I'm just a sour note

I'll take what I can get

The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you

And everybody wants you

The kiss was tantalizingly sweet, yet somehow burning hot at the same time. Remy couldn’t seem to get enough of Emile, arms wrapping around him, one hand pressing into the small of his back, while the other slid up his back, to his neck, to tangling into his soft curls. Emile made a soft sound into the kiss when Remy ran his fingers through his hair, and yup, Remy was definitely done for.

“As much as I like kissing you, don’t you think I should take you out to dinner sometime first?” Emile murmured into his mouth, once they had pulled apart to breathe.

“What if I take you to dinner first,” Remy huffed, pulling him into another kiss. Emile giggled into the kiss, and Remy found himself smiling against the other man’s mouth.

“Oh, challenge accepted,” Emile said after pulling away again.

“It’s on, babes. How about I get your number?” Remy smirked. Emile laughed, pulling away from Emile and walking away from the dance floor. There was a slight sway to his hips, which he definitely was doing on purpose, if the dazzling grin he threw Remy over his shoulder was anything to go by.

“I’m not letting you win that easy!” he shouted. Remy laughed, following after Emile.

And everybody wants you

And everybody wants you

And everybody wants you

And everybody wants you

And everybody wants you

Remy eventually got his number… but it wasn’t until the following day, when Emile showed up at the bookstore, telling Remy that he was taking him to dinner after work. The dinner date was fantastic, and if they made out in the booth at the restaurant more than actually eating… well that was their business. That date led to another date… and then another… and another… Remy couldn’t be happier. He could hardly imagine his life before Emile, and sure, he still got a little frazzled whenever Emile smiled at him, soft and adoring… but Remy wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything in the world.

General Tag List: @adorably-angsty @alix-the-skeleton @allthemetalsoftherainbow @armageddonhascome @backatthebein @bangthekobrakid @bloodropsblog @cefinitely-rolo @coffeestudylive @cosmic-chu @cyndaquil17 @dani-jeanso @didsomeonesayprince @emphoenixcat @every-day-insomniac @fandomsandanythingelse @freekiphotography @freepaperie081 @hanramz-the-fander @i-need-a-social-life-2710 @i-really-dig-the-purple @ironwoman359 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @kanejandkruge @kitsuneprideleader @kittycake574 @le2712 @littlemiracle05 @loganpatton @lollingtothemax @look-its-meme @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @lynlinked @mewsicalmiss @midnightcandy @moonstonefox @musicsavedmefromdeath @mystrangedarkson @nightmarejasmine @not-as-smart @of-treble-and-dragons @punsterterry @purplepatton @quoth-the-sparrow @radioactivehelena @royallyanxious @ruuworld @sanders-trash-4ever @save-me-oh-dream-of-mine @shadowsfromthesun @shygirl4991 @sleepyssnail @softbludemon @softnic @sombraplayslazertag @sweetinsomniac @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @theresneverenoughfandoms @thisrandomperson102 @thuriweaver @vigilantvirgil

[blueroseblaze]

Question (Nero x Reader)

Request: No

Word count: 2289

Warnings: Reference to sex

Nero had pumped the breaks on the van, causing it to roll to a steady stop. He put the van in park but didn’t turn off the ignition right away, letting the engine purr and the headlights illuminate ahead for just a bit longer. He leaned back in his seat and looked out the windshield.

Nero had driven you both out of the city, not too far, but far enough that the concrete jungle had disappeared behind you. It wasn’t uncommon for calls to come from outside the city, for you to climb in and go for a road trip to the mountains to take care of a particularly nasty demon. And you liked it out there. It was quiet, tranquil, freeing. You wished you could stay out of the city longer.

He had taken you to a certain spot, a lovers lane like road that allowed you to look at the beautiful ocean of lights radiating from the cityscape. You had forgotten about rampages of hell beasts that plagued the city from time to time. From this spot you couldn’t hear the screams or the violence.

He had switched off the van’s engine but left the battery on, so the radio lights still lit up the dashboard. You let the stillness and darkness inside the vehicle embrace you both. While you had no idea what you were doing here, you had to admit it was comfortable, being with Nero sitting in silence. It reminded you of the quiet evenings where you would both just lie in bed together and listen to whatever music you felt like listening to, maybe swapping some stories or jokes too.

But eventually you had to cave.

“Okay, I give up,” you said, “What are we doing here?”

Nero smirked and turned his eyes away from the windshield to look at you.

“Can’t I spend some alone time with the person I love?” He asked.

“Yes, you can. But we normally just hang out in your room. It feels like your planning something and you’re not one to do grand romantic gestures.”

Nero placed his devil breaker on his chest, clutching at his shirt and feigning shock and horror. He wore an overly dramatic look on his face and sucked in a theatrical gasp.

“Why my lady, you wound me!” he cried in an over the top posh accent.

You laughed and reached over to slug him in the arm playfully, he dropped his act and laughed along with you. Your laughter died down and before the silence could turn awkward, Nero reached out and tuned the radio to a slow rock station, he turned the volume down until it the acoustic guitar chords were just background noise. You listened to the lyrics as the artist sang about someone so beautiful, they couldn’t even describe it coherently. You looked at Nero, who swayed his head to the slow rhythm, a soft smile gracing his perfect face. You couldn’t help but smile too.

“I like this song,” he said, his voice hoarse and low, as if he spoke the words before his brain could even produce them.

“Yeah?” you asked. Nero’s tastes normally didn’t run towards sappy love ballads.

“Yeah,” he replied, “It makes me think of you.”

You felt you cheeks heat up and you turned away from him to hide your surprised expression. You reached up and nervously played with your hair, the same way Nero would scratch at his nose when he was nervous or acting shy.

“I think you’re beautiful, (Y/N),” he said. His voice held a matter of fact tone to it, like there was no debate or hint of irony in what he said, yet when you heard it you could feel all the love he felt in his words. You rubbed the back of your neck as you forced yourself to look at him. He was smiling at you, clearly amused by your shyness, but also enamored by you. It was amazing to you how much you could mutually love someone yet still act like a shy lovestruck teenager.

A few more moments of quiet went by, the only sound filling the van was the radio. You felt the cool metal of Nero’s devil breaker caressing the back of your hand to gain your full attention.

“(Y/N), look at me,” he said a tiny bit more stern, just to let you know he really wanted your full attention.

You were finally able to look him in the eyes and you were immediately lost in the beautiful blue irises. When you made eye contact, he seemed to lose all confidence. As he stared into your eyes, every self-assured organized thought seemed to melt together in his head, creating a jumble of emotional sentence fragments barely able to describe how he really felt.

You smiled as he began to stutter through his words. You could see in his face that he was so prepared, so ready to spill what he was feeling. You felt sympathy at the frustrated expression that appeared on his face as you reached to grip the devil breaker in your hand. He froze as he felt you grip his hand and looked back to you. With the opportunity open you seized his face in both your hands and brought him in for a kiss.

Though you had closed your eyes you could sense Nero’s were the size of dinner plate. He stayed stock still as you initiated, moving you lips against his. Eventually he relented. You could feel his whole body relax as he began to kiss you back, his lips moved against yours, opening and closing as he poked out his tongue to tease your lips.

He moved his hands up your arms, pulling you closer to him. Although it was awkward with the open space between the front seats. He did let that stop him, as he blindly reached for your seat belt buckle and loosening it. With your upper body freed he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you close, almost sitting in his lap. His mouth never left yours, your lips still dancing together in a sensual harmony as both your bodies began to heat up. His tongue fought against yours and neither of you could help the soft moans that escaped you.

You removed one of your hands from his face and moved it to tug down at his shirt, your finger twisting around his necklace. Unsatisfied with the progress there you moved your hand to underneath his coat, resting it on his shoulder briefly before trying to push it off his body.

You felt Nero smiled against your mouth and give a breathy chuckled when he realized what you were trying to do. He pulled his lips away from your, but he didn’t pull away entirely. His nose still brushed against your and pressed your foreheads together, eyes perfectly at level.

“Do you remember how pissed Nico was when she found out what we did in the back a few months ago?” he asked smugly and slightly out of breath from the kiss.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his question as you remembered Nico finding an abandoned pair of panties on the floor of the van along with a few condom wrappers. Nero – being the cheeky little shit he was – tried to pocket your underwear as a sort of trophy, much to your annoyance, only to have them fall out of his jacket pocket when you two dressed and left the van. You both thought you had been so sneaky. Eventually Nico found out and forbade sex in the van from that day onward.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Maybe we shouldn’t incur her wrath again,” he said, “Besides, that’s not why I drove you out here.”

“Did you finally realize I was an undercover demon and we’re here for you to shoot me under cover of night?” you joked.

Nero laughed again as he pulled you in tighter and lounged against his seat. Not the most comfortable position in the world but as you rested your head against his shoulder you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Don’t joke like that,” he chastised.

“Then why are we here?” you asked.

Nero took a deep breath as he looked around the van again, you could tell he was trying really hard not to lose his cool again.

“(Y/N),” he started, “We’ve been together for a long time and we’ve been through a lot. At first, I didn’t think anyone would want to put up with the shit I do but you not only put up with it but you’re actively a part of it. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He paused for a moment, but you didn’t say a word.

“And I’m glad that you’re in my life,” he continued, “And I’m glad I’m in yours, and there’s only one way I can think of to really make sure it stays that way.”

You looked at him incredulously, wondering where he was going with this.

He gestured his head toward the passenger side, and you followed his gaze.

“Open the glove compartment,” he said.

You separated from him and settled back into your seat to reach for the glove compartment. You opened it and stared into the piled of papers and trinkets that were thrown in there over time. You began to rifle through the junk as you felt Nero’s eyes on you.

“What am I looking for?” you asked still raking through the expired vehicle registrations.

“You’ll know…” he said cryptically.

You rolled your eyes at his response and continued digging. After pushing away more junk you felt your fingers brush against a small velvet object. You grabbed it and pulled out the little thing. You looked at what you soon realized was a small box. You held it with both hands as the realization slowly set in. You looked to Nero, who silently urged you to open it.

Almost shakenly, you opened the hinged box and gasped when you saw the silver banded ring inside. You instantly recognized the ring in the box. It was one of Nero’s old silver rings that he had stopped wearing a while ago. When you had asked what had happened to it, he brushed you off and said it was damaged and he took it to a shop to repair it.

Even though you knew it was his it was wildly different. The Order insignia was gone, shaves off and replaces with an intricate carving that expanded all over the band. Gracing the top was a milky white gemstone. You had no idea what it was. A quartz, maybe opal? You didn’t know but you didn’t care either. You marveled at how the stone shined even in the dim light.

You peeled your eyes away from the box and back to Nero, who you realized was staring at you this entire time. He had a genuinely sweet smile on his face and an overall expectant look with a hint of concern and anxiousness.

“You like it?” he asked, “I was worried that just changing the size of one of my own rings was just cheap, so I wanted to make it extra special.”

You said nothing, still speechless as the conclusions you made in your head started to become vindicated.

“Try it on,” Nero urged.

With shaking hands, you carefully pulled the ring out of the box and slipped it on your left ring finger. It fit perfectly and gave you the opportunity to really admire the ring. You could even see the cut lines where the ring was resized.

You were too busy marveling at the ring to notice Nero slip his left hand around yours. The warmth of his real hand in yours finally made you break, and you felt tears prickle at the corners of you eyes. Nero wrapped his other hand around your, encasing your hand in the warm embrace of his. His fingers squeezed your hand tightly as you looked into his eyes again.

“You were right,” he said, “I’m not one for grand sweeping gestures, so I won’t go on a huge speech again. I just have one question.”

All you could do was nod your head slightly.

“(Y/N), will you marry me?”

You felt the tears finally roll down your cheeks as you lunged at him from your seat, locking your arms around his neck sending his back into the drivers side door. You happily sobbed into his neck repeating, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” over and over again.

Nero laughed out loud at your response and returned your embrace, wrapping both his arms around your back, holding you tightly to his chest. He hugged you while planting kisses all over the side of your neck and your cheek. He rocked you both back and forth as you continued laughing and crying with joy.

Soon you pulled away, your cheeks still hurting from smiling so hard and wet from your happy tears. You leaned into Nero’s hand when he reached to wipe them away with his thumb. Only for him to pull you into another kiss, this one more chaste and quick but still just as passionate.

You smiled at each other, both of you admiring the others beauty.

After what felt like an eternity going by in seconds, Nero settled back into his seat and you into yours. You leaned over resting your head on his shoulder as he restarted the ignition and put the van into reverse. He stroked your hair as the two of you pulled away from your spot and started the drive back home. Both of you smiling like dope the whole way.

A/N: So pretty much everyone wanted to see the fluff when I asked what people wanted to see. Might make a part 2 if people like this one but we’ll see. Hope you all liked it, I know its a little long but I’m a stickler for details. Thanks for reading and I love and appreciate feedback :)