#Skid is so fucking happy to have him around too and that’s fine but WHERE’S PUMP WHY ISN’T HE AROUND WITH HIM???

[gamingforeternity]

I’ve only had the three whole images of Dear Ol’ Dad having his first living appearance and already I am fucking obsessed with him even when he’s only visible as a GODDAMN SHADOW/SILHOUETTE

Fan artists were right, he does have a fucking Cheshire smile, and it’s fucking with me so bad I’m literally done for when he makes a genuine FULL appearence

[searchingsomewhere]

All Too Well, Part 16

{"I start the day lying and end with the truth; That I'm dying for the knife."}

poly!Gojo x OC x Geto

CW: Toji's Aftermath. Blood, some mild gore, you guys know the drill.

All Too Well Masterlist

Part 15

Satoru and Suguru were hand-picked to bodyguard the Star Plasma Vessel. They just had to keep her alive for two weeks until she could assimilate into Tengen. It made sense- This was the perfect mission for them. They were the strongest, after all.

The night before they left, Miho held Satoru a little longer than normal before they left her room. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, breathing into her hair.

"Be careful. Please," Miho said, pulling away. She hugged Suguru just as tight, standing on her tip toes to kiss him. Suguru cupped her face with one hand.

They both took one of her hands. Their bracelets glimmered in the light. Miho felt an odd pang in her chest. Seeing her hands clasped in theirs. It just seemed right. So why did it hurt that she couldn't go with them?

"It'll be easy," Satoru said, waving away her worry, "We'll be back before you know it."

"When we come back, we should all go out together," Suguru smiled at them.

Miho tried her best to be happy. It really was an honor to be picked by Tengen. And anyway, they'd be back soon and everything would be fine.

----

Satoru was right. The two weeks did pass fast. Miho kept herself occupied with her other friends, training and studying when they went out on missions. When everyone else was off campus, she returned to the library. It's dim lighting and endless rows of shelves didn't hold the same pain it used to.

Suguru and Satoru both texted her often. Updates on how the mission was, telling her that they missed her, complaining about the vessel. The vessel seemed like a bit of a brat, but Miho could tell the boys had a soft spot for her. The Sealing Sorcerer hoped one day, as they were nearing the two week mark, that Satoru and Suguru were giving the vessel the best of the time she had left. At first she had shook her head at the girl's behavior, but she quickly pushed that judgement out of her head.

It was easy to forget that she had an expiration date, too.

On the final day, Miho was in the library. The whole campus was empty, leaving only her to wait on the boy's arrival. They would be back any minute. She was eagerly checking her phone every two minutes, waiting on the 'We're back!' text. They had landed at the airport with no issues. So far so good.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Miho could feel its reverb in the ground beneath her feet. It's not supposed to rain today. She was on a ladder, halfway up, when the whole library shook violently. The sheer force knocked her to the ground. The ladder clattered against her forearms as it fell.

Cursed energy exploded up from somewhere on campus. She could feel it expand, filling every nook and cranny. A familiar sensation ran up her spine.

This wasn't just any cursed energy. It was Satoru's.

What-What the fuck? She ran through the library with her phone pressed against her ear, dodging the fallen shelves. Please answer. Please answer-

"You have reached-"

She hung up and dialed Suguru's number. The shadow of an object entered her peripheral and she skidded to a stop just as the wall in front of her shattered. A large chunk of concrete decimated the wall and floor. Miho screamed, covering her head as glass showered her.

"Miho! Miho are you okay-" Suguru's voice was panicked.

"What the fuck is happening?!" she exclaimed, scrambling over the concrete chunk, "Where are you? Where is Satoru?"

"I'm with Riko. We're heading for the Tomb of the Star," Suguru said. Miho could hear a young girl screaming on the other end. "Satoru is- We were attacked. But Miho you can't fight him-"

"On campus?!"

"He has no cursed energy. Hide, now!" Suguru urged.

"Come back to me, Suguru," Miho said, stopping in the hallway for only a moment. Her hand gripped her phone in a white knuckled grip. "...I love you. Please."

Silence.

"I love you, too. I have to go."

Miho sucked in a breath as the line went dead. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She squeezed through the half collapsed door, taking off towards the plaza.

----

By the time she made it, everything was destroyed. Green eyes scanned the wreckage for any life. It looked like the intruder was gone. Not that she knew for sure, since she wouldn't be able to sense him anyway. But where was Satoru?

The white haired boy had always been the strongest. He was the strongest Sorcerer she knew. The fastest, the most adaptable, the most untouchable. She had never seen him break a sweat or get tired. Not even winded. Whatever they were up against, he'd be able to handle.

She spun, looking outwards towards the direction of the school. The sight before her knocked the air from her lungs.

"S-Satoru...?"

He laid in the wreckage, covered in debris. Her legs trembled as she ran, climbing down the jutting concrete to collapse onto her knees beside him. Bright scarlet blood painted the ground beneath him. It was everywhere. His white hair and face soaked with it, the entirety of his chest still trickling. It coated everything; his mouth, his throat, his entire front half. He didn't respond to her voice. Only stared blankly at the sky with his crystal clear eyes.

"Satoru- S-Please, Satoru!" Miho's voice was lost in her shock. Her hands shook as they hovered over his lifeless body. What the fuck was she even supposed to do?

His eyes followed her as she pressed her hands to the wound in his chest. It stretched from his hip to his shoulder. She felt something else. It was faint, so faint she could barely perceive it. His cursed energy was concentrated on his heart. Slowing it down. Healing himself. Reversed cursed energy? Satoru's mouth flopped open. Wet, gushing sounds gurgled out of him. His throat was destroyed.

"What- Who did this?" She asked, speaking through the tremble of her voice.

Satoru's hand began to move. He weakly groped up her arm, walking his fingers up her shoulder...

...And shoved her away. His arm fell limply to the ground.

"Ru- Ru-" He could barely utter the syllables.

I have to help Suguru. I don't want to leave, She squeezed her eyes closed, tears falling onto Satoru's chest. I don't know what to do!

The panic and fear in her chest was churning angrily, warping into something else. She wiped her bloodied hands on her uniform shirt, staining the white fabric. She hastily scrubbed the tears from her face, smearing blood there too. There wasn't anything she could do for him. She could only move forward.

Miho pressed her forehead to his, sobbing.

"I love you," she whispered between sobs, "Please, please don't die. Please, Satoru."

Leaving him lying there tore a hole in her chest. Pain pinpricked her fingertips and she balled them into fists as she took off into a run.

He's using reversed cursed techniques, she kept telling herself as she sprinted through the campus, making a beeline for the Tomb of the Star. He'll be okay. He has to be!

Miho didn't know what waited for her in the Tomb. All she knew was that, if Satoru was almost killed fighting this guy, she had to give it her all.

Part 17

[miladydewintcr]

Happy DADWC day

I would be interested in seeing

"I would believe that you're fine, but you have a goddamn knife sticking out of your leg, so." (From the diologue prompts for injury list) for Isabella/fenris 😊

I think this is my first time writing Fenris.... ever?? Thank you for this!! I changed the prompt dialogue a little because I thought it ~flowed~ better, I hope that's okay!

For @dadrunkwriting

tw: injury, blood, low self-esteem, questionable old-timey medical practices Word count: 826 Rating: T

“Will you two be alright here if we go scout on ahead?” Hawke asked, reaching out to grab Merrill’s hand.

Isabela cocked her hip and turned to look at Fenris, half-lying in the sand. “Alright,” she agreed. “Shout if you need me.”

The two mages disappeared, bouncing up the pathway that led back up to the clifftops in search of more bandits. On the beach, Fenris shifted to look at her.

“I’m fine, you know,” he said insistently. “If you just help me back onto my feet-”

“You have a bloody knife sticking out of your leg,” Isabela cut him off. “So… Spare me all that.”

Fenris looked down at his leg, and the world almost seemed to slow as she watched him reach his hand towards it. Maker, she was glad Hawke wasn’t around to see her, because she rushed to stop him so quickly it was embarrassing, skidding on the sand as she fell to her knees and caught his hand with hers.

“Maker’s breath, Fenris, has no-one ever told you you’re not supposed to take it out?” There was a hint of panic in her voice that she wished wasn’t there, prayed he wouldn’t pick up on.

“Well, I can’t just leave it in there.”

“The second you take it out, there’s going to be just oodles of blood. And it’s in there to the hilt, it’s going to be deep.”

Fenris looked down at his leg, as though he hadn’t noticed the severity of his wound before it was pointed out to him. “Huh.” His eyes flicked back up to hers.

“You need a healer,” she stressed. “You can lean on my shoulders until we get back to the city. But it can’t come out until we find Anders.”

Fenris looked down, and then away. Isabela made a concentrated effort to relax her face as she watched him, aware that her forehead was starting to crease.

He stared out at the ocean for a long time. Long enough for Isabela to realise that she was still holding onto his hand, wonder if she should pull away, and conclude that it would be stranger if she did it now. She should’ve done it several minutes ago.

“What do you do when you’re at sea?” Fenris asked softly.

Isabela’s brows scrunched in confusion. “What?”

“If you’re injured at sea. What do you do?”

“I go see the ship’s doctor, if it’s life-threatening.”

“And if it isn’t?” He turned away from the ocean, and her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met once more. “Do you deal with it yourself?”

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. But then she swallowed that feeling and pushed through. “Ships’ doctors can be very hit-and-miss. If you’re lucky enough to have a mage aboard then it’s usually fine, but the others have a tendency to resort to hacking off limbs with a saw.”

“Would you see a doctor for something like this?” He nudged his head towards his leg.

Isabela closed her eyes, already anticipating where this was heading. “Fenris…”

“You’d deal with it yourself, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then be my healer. Take it out. Stem the bleeding.”

“It’s different when it’s me,” Isabela said. “There’s less responsibility because it doesn’t matter if I-” She caught herself, but it was too late.

Fuck fuck fuck.

She thought she'd imagined it at first. But no, he had twisted his hand in hers and was running the pad of his thumb against her skin, hesitantly at first but slowly building in confidence.

“It’s alright,” he said, with a gentleness that hurt more than anything else she’d ever experienced. “You can take me to the spirit mage when the others return.”

“Are you sure?” she found herself saying. “I know you don’t trust magic.”

He shrugged. “If one of us has to be uncomfortable, it might as well be me.”

It was the most selfless thing he could’ve said. Without letting go of his hand, Isabela turned, scanning the beach. Spying a piece of driftwood nearby, she straightened her leg, used the toe of her boot to nudge it closer until she could reach for it with her free hand.

Fenris just watched, his mild amusement turning to alarm when she held the piece of wood in front of his face.

“Bite down on this,” she instructed, pushing it into his mouth and releasing his hand so that she could tear a strip of cloth from her tunic.

He reached up to remove the piece of wood from his mouth. “What are you-”

“Shh.” Isabela flashed him a shaky grin. “I’ve got you. Just remember, you wanted this.”

He looked almost suspicious, just for a moment. But then slowly, he lifted the piece of wood back up, and placed it between his teeth.

“There’s a good boy,” Isabela said, reaching out to give his fingers a quick, reassuring squeeze. “Now don’t you dare fucking die on me.”

[thanotaphobia]

oc content below.  points a gun. look at my little guys. look at them. they are soooooooooooooooo queer representation coded. gay people win these

feat. vanya and eli fucking around in a river (not literally) and ed and reinor having a Moment (it’s mostly ed)

-

Vanya strips off his shirt after Eli does, and Eli pauses for a moment. 

"You're a girl?" he says. 

"No," Vanya says, face wrinkling in disgust. "Girls are gross." 

"Speak for yourself," Eli says, frowning as Vanya wades into the water after him. "I like girls." 

"You don't have time for girls, Your Majesty." 

"Says you." Eli splashes some water at him, who winces and flinches back from the cold. "This current's freezing." 

"I don't know how you stand it," Vanya grumps, tucking his hands up into his armpits and around the bandages binding his chest. "Don't go too far." 

"I can swim," Eli says reassuringly. 

"That's not what I'm worried about."

- 

"You...” Ed pauses, lips twisting as though he’s just bitten into a lemon. “...You are good at your job." 

 "Don't lie to me. I hate it when people do that." 

"... alright, fine.” Ed squares his shoulders. Reinor, for all their melancholy, suddenly feels a little hesitant. “You're awful at your job. You're too nice, you're too gullible, you take people at their word. You want to best for everyone, which is, frankly, impossible. You want everyone to be happy.” Ed pauses there, and stops using his fingers to count their issues. Despite that, there’s a little buzz in Reinor’s chest, right where his sternum yields into the soft flesh of his stomach. Something humming, and sweet. Citrusy. “You... you see the good in the world. The good in people, even if... even if they've been cruel to you. You put up with things you shouldn't. You love them despite it."

"Yeah?" Reinor asks, sniffling a little. Their eyes are wet. How strange.

 "Yeah," Ed says. The vulnerability wants to leave him, but it’s sort of hard to let go, so Reinor keeps them held tightly in his hand. "And... that's why you're terrible at your job." 

"Oh come on," Reinor says, deflating a bit. "Really?" 

In response, Ed grabs them by their collar and kisses them.

"I'm not in love with you," he says later, leaning up against the headboard with a notebook and pencil in hand. He's writing. Reinor doesn't ask what. Just settles further into cozy sheets. 

"You don't have to be," they say. 

"I love you," Ed says abruptly, pencil skidding across the paper. "But I'm not in love with you. Does that make sense?" 

"No," Reinor says. They love Ed. That’s been enough until now. "Does it matter?" 

Ed glances up from his notes. "Hm," he says, eyes fixed on Reinor's bare shoulder. "Maybe not." The words are questioning, postulative. As though he's never considered it before. Reinor just smiles into a pillow, and listens to the sound of charcoal on paper.

[bf-skz]

24 to 25 days of SKZMAS | December 12th - Hyunjin

pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

genre: fake dating

synopsis: Hyunjin is one of the best writers at JY Publishing. As the end of the year comes, he is one article short for a raise. The chief editor gives him the task of writing date ideas till Christmas which is also coincidentally his most hated holiday. Luckily, he does have a roommate with a great Christmas spirit.

warnings: -

words: 877

12th day of SKZMAS

December 12th

“Good morning.” Hyunjin wakes up with a groan, voice all groggy. You woke him up at 8, blasting Christmas music. He is surprised to see you in full Christmas attire, skidding around the house with a lengthy list in your hands. “What are you doing?”

“Good morning to you too, my sweet little apple pie!” you greet him and watch Hyunjin cringe at the petname. “Why, we should get ready for our date of course!”

“Oh my god.” Hyunjin groans, throwing his head back. Sure, it was his idea but he isn’t gonna pretend to be happy about the assignment. “Couldn’t we wait until the sun comes up?” 

“Nope! We have about 10 days for 24 dates, so we need to do as much as we can today!” you tell him enthusiastically.

At first, you were quite shocked by the fact that Hyunjin wanted to fake date you for about two weeks. You thought he somehow figured out your giant crush on him, but Hyune seems to be clueless as ever – and immensely uninterested in you. Which is fine, you have gotten used to the feeling… but you still feel the urge to overdo it.

“Ugh, what kind of torture do you have planned for us today?” he groans, slumping down on the dining chair where a cup of coffee along with freshly cooked eggs wait for him. 

“Thought you might be hungry.” you say with a shrug and try not to stare at Hyunjin's little smile. “But we have a whole list for today! Let's see.” you start, skimming through the list. “We are going to the gingerbread themed Christmas market, then to the shopping mall before we go skating! Are you readyyyyyy?” you ask in a singsongy voice.

“Absolutely not.” Hyunjin says, looking down at his pj pants and catching a glimpse of his reflection in the vase on the table. Gosh his hair is so messy. “I need to get dressed and all.” 

“Do you need me to help you wash up?” you ask him, wiggling an eyebrow, and dodge the snarky comment he is about to throw at you. “Kidding! I’ll go and pack a bag for you so we can go ASAP!”

“You little-” Hyunjin mutters under his breath before standing up to get ready for the day as well.

A few hours later the two of you had done a handful of programmes. You built and decorated gingerbread houses, drank hot cocoa, took a walk in the Christmas market, drank some mulled wine, went ice skating and went gift shopping. The latter Hyunjin did not enjoy one bit as he kept complaining about the crowd. Now you are at the tree market to choose the perfect Christmas tree. It's already pretty dark and extremely cold.

“Just hurry up and pick one. It will wither in a month anyway.” Hyunjin whines, his hands planted deep in his pockets.

“You cannot keep looking at things like that.” you sigh, weaving your arm around his as you walk along the trees. “You will never learn to enjoy things if you are worried about the future.” you say, before shrugging. “But now that I think about it, it explains a lot.”

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin frowns.

“Well, you haven’t been in a relationship for how long?”

“Um, that's personal and also fuck you that has nothing to do with anything.” Hyunjin scoffs.

“Personal my ass. Not when I hear you with whoever you take home every single night it happens. The walls are paper thin. Like, the toilet paper we buy at the end of the month kinda thin.”

“Oh my god.” Hyunjin blushes, hiding his face. “Why are we talking about my love life? What about yours?” 

“I am not the one who has to write an article about dating, mind you.” you respond with a shrug, then add. “And you are really cute when you get shy like that.”

“Oh shut up.” he scoffs. “What about that one? It's bigger than you.” he nods at a tree close. That's when a tiny snowflake lands on his nose and he wipes it off. Huh. He doesn't remember the last time he watched the snow.

You gasp, looking up in the dark sky and in the light of the lamps illuminating the market, you see it. “It's snowing!” you all but squeal, forgetting about your banter altogether. You extend your arms in front of you to catch the snowflakes on the sleeves of your black coat. “Hyune, look, look!”

“Yeah, I can see.” Hyunjin chuckles at your cuteness, watching the snowflakes gather on your sleeve. He then looks up at your face and his mouth falls open. The way your face is illuminated by the fairy lights and your cheeks are stained red from the cold, it makes you look like a muse he aches to paint.

“Look at the little details.” you say before looking up at his handsome face, then at the falling snow. “So beautiful, isn't it?”

“Yeah…” he mutters as his heart skips a beat. He can't look away from your face… “Beautiful.” he whispers but he is not talking about the snow. Luckily, you stay oblivious, too mesmerized to see the way you took his breath away.

to be continued...

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Title of Your Sex Tape

Chapter Two: Skin Pressed Against Me Tight

AO3 one two three four five six seven eight

Yes, chapter two has arrived. Sorry it’s so short. Happy birthday Lea (she’s 21 today!).

Tags: @Ellamaianderson @Shika1200 @Blackqueenstarsteed1 @gatoenlaciudad

All my work is 18+.

I feel so untouched, and I want you so much that I just can't resist you. It's not enough to say that I miss you. I feel so untouched right now; need you so much.-The Veronicas, Untouched

If anyone had asked Lea how long she sat on that couch, she wouldn’t have been able to give any answer at all.

Suddenly, after an indeterminate amount of time, the door burst open, and Tim came skidding to a halt. His robe—he must’ve gotten another; the one he’d been wearing before was still laying at her feet—was hanging off his bony shoulders and he was still tying it around his waist, his hair looked very much like he’d just had sex, possibly even multiple times, which was very likely because he had done exactly that.

His face split into a heartstopping grin. “You stayed,” Tim said breathlessly.

Lea blinked at him.

“You…” She gulped. “You asked me to.”

He grinned, strolling over to her, his movements casual. “You’ll be at the next shoot, right?”

“Um.” Another gulp. “I dunno, they said it was a one time thing…” Her voice was soft, hesitant. It was hard to imagine that not too long ago, she had had this beautiful man’s you-know-what in her hand.

“Consider this an offer for a permanent position, then,” he said with another grin.

Floored by this, Lea was silently gaping at him.

“If you’d be interested, I mean,” he added hastily. She still didn’t speak, so he went on, “What did they offer you? I’ll make them pay you double.”

“Dou-“ she sputtered. “There’s no need for that much of an increase, three hundred is more than enough—“

“Fine, four hundred fifty, then,” he waved her off. “That’s as low as I’m going.”

“There’s really no need for an increase at all,” she squeaked.

“You deserve it,” Tim informed her.

She blinked at him. “You just met me.”

“Yes,” he agreed patiently, “and I already know you deserve it.”

As Lea continued to blink at him with wide, shocked eyes, the silence between them stretched on. He was just standing there, grinning at her, looking perfectly content to rock back and forth on the balls of his bare feet. 

Finally, she stood, brushing herself off and absentmindedly patting her thighs. “So, um…” She gulped nervously.

He was so tall.

“Are we done, then?” she finished. 

His grin morphed into a smirk and he said, “For now.”

Stepping hesitantly towards the door (which she’d have to maneuver around him to get to), Lea found he loomed over her even more the closer she was to him.

“What days do you have school?” he asked as she neared him.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays,” she said softly.

His smile widened.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed happily. “The next shoot is on Wednesday.” Then, after a moment, “You’ll… you’ll be there, right? You never really answered before.”

Blushing and choosing to examine her feet, Lea said, “Y— yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

He was standing in the way of the door, so she awkwardly stepped around him, trying not to inhale his scent as she did so. As she moved, however, he reached down and took her hand in his.

His eyes—fucking hell, she’d never get over those eyes as long as she lived—were intent on hers as he brought her hand up to place a soft kiss to her knuckles.

“I’ll see you then, Lea.” He said it against her skin, his lips reminding her of when they were against her own, and she could’ve sworn her flesh burned where he’d touched her the entire way back to her apartment.

Just her luck that it would rain the one day she’d forgotten her umbrella. At least her purse was essentially waterproof, though, and she wasn’t even soaked through; just her jacket and hair (though the latter would be an absolute nightmare once it dried). 

Still, Lea was dripping onto the floor when she stepped into the building.

Tim rushed over as soon as he saw her. “You’re soaked,” he observed.

He was most decidedly not soaked, nor was he any less breathtaking upon the second meeting.

“Did you walk here?”

“Only part of the way,” Lea said with a shrug of one shoulder.

He frowned, undoing his robe and sliding it off. She did her very best to not look at his body or wonder at the fact that the man had no issues whatsoever in stripping down in front of all his coworkers. To be fair to him, though, no one batted an eye.

“Here,” he told her, settling his robe over her shoulders. He had to step closer to her to do it, and she rather wished he hadn’t, because his proximity made her terribly nervous. “Can I see your phone?”

Lea blinked at him a few times, wondering why he’d want to see her phone, but took it out of her purse and handed it to him regardless.

He tapped the screen a few times, typed something, and handed it back to her.

She examined the contact he’d just created for himself, and when she saw his name, two things occurred to her: first, that his last name (which she now knew was Chalamet) was very fancy indeed, and second, his first name wasn’t spelled Timothy as she’d originally assumed, but Timothée, which was even fancier than his last name.

“Could you text me your address?” he asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

Lea looked up at him, blushing profusely (he was still naked, okay?). “Y— yeah.”

Doing as he’d requested, she put her phone back in her purse and allowed him to take her hand. “There’s food if you’re hungry,” he offered, “or we can just go straight to my dressing room.”

“I ate,” she told him, gulping anxiously.

“Good,” Tim said, beaming and leading her into the room—his dressing room, presumably—they’d been in before.

The door shut behind them, and he reached around her to lock it, his eyes intent on hers for several seconds before flitting down to her lips.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I can’t wait to kiss you.”

Lea bristled, blushed profusely, and found herself unable to formulate a response.

He took her hands in his and walked backwards towards the couch, grinning down at her.

Next thing she knew, Tim had pulled her into his lap, the skirt of her dress riding up and her legs on either side of him. The robe he’d put over her shoulders fell to the floor with the movement, and he was smirking up at her.

“This can’t be comfortable,” he said softly in reference to her jacket before helping her remove it.

“I’ll get you wet,” she warned him anxiously.

“Mmm,” he hummed, wrapping his arms around her lower waist to hold her against him. “Does that mean you’ll dry me off?” She blushed but didn’t respond. “And anyway, I don’t care about that.”

She was frozen atop his nude form, unable to think. Or breathe, for that matter. He trailed his hands from her waist down to her legs, his thumbs brushing over the bare skin of her thighs and sliding upwards to grasp her hips as he looked at her.

“Kiss me,” he breathed.

Lea bit her lip nervously, and his hands tightened on her hips as he watched, further bunching up her dress. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, and he groaned into her mouth.

Before she knew it, he was sucking her tongue into his mouth and reaching under her dress with slow hands, giving her ample opportunity to stop him if she wanted. But she didn’t want to, was the thing. 

She shifted and suddenly felt his length hard between her legs, pressing against the dampness of her panties, and she inhaled sharply. He gripped her ass through her panties, his fingers digging into the fabric, and encouraged her to move her hips back and forth over him.

She did so, and found that it felt good. Really good. Unaccountably good. So good, in fact, that she found herself unable to hide in the moan that loosed itself from her throat when he rubbed against her clit.

“Feel good?” Tim asked softly, trailing a hand up her waist to her breast. His hand hovered over it as he looked up at her inquisitively, and she understood that he was wanting her consent. She nodded jerkily, one of her still-wet curls sticking to the skin of her neck from the movement.

He squeezed her breast, and she whimpered, threading her fingers into his hair and leaning down to kiss him again. He smirked against her lips, continuing to guide the movements of her pelvis against him. His hardness was stimulating her clit consistently now, and she felt something building up inside of her.

“You like that?” he breathed, moving his lips to her neck, where he sucked gently on her skin. 

Lea gasped, pressing closer to him and moving her hips faster. 

It felt so good.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughed softly. She titled her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck, not even realizing she was doing it. “You’re so fucking perfect it’s unreal,” he groaned against her throat.

In the back of her mind, Lea idly thought that that seemed like an odd thing to say to one’s coworker, but she was too far gone to voice that particular thought.

She made to get off of him so as to touch him (as was her job), but the hand on her ass squeezed, and he said, “Can we keep doing this? I’m enjoying feeling you against me.”

Lea blushed but resumed moving her hips over his, continuing to stimulate her clit. Her breathing was getting faster, a knot in her lower abdomen tightening.

“Does it feel good?” Tim asked gently. “Do you like that?”

She blushed. “Maybe I should stop.” She didn’t, though.

“Why?” he asked, looking concerned. “Do you not like it?”

“I do,” she admitted, “but it feels too good, and I’ve never…” she trailed off.

“Really?” he asked, surprised, pausing their movements. She nodded, and he took her chin between his fingers and kissed her softly, slowly. “Keep going,” he told her. It’ll feel amazing, I promise.” Then, “You don’t have to be nervous. I’ll take care of you.” She gnawed her lip, looking down at him anxiously despite his words. “Please,” he added on after a moment. “I wanna make you cum. Please let me.”

He continued to encourage the movement of her hips, brushing his lips over her cleavage as he did so.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. “Feel so good against me. Can’t wait to make you cum, gorgeous. Wanna feel it. I can feel you through your clothes,” he groaned. “You’re so wet.”

“S— sorry,” she managed to force out, the word a little moan.

“Don’t apologize,” Tim told her with a soft laugh. “It’s so fucking sexy.” She did, continuing to stimulate her clit by rubbing against his length. “Keep going, baby. I wanna make you feel good.”

She’d lost control of her breathing, but he continued.

“Yeah, that’s it. That feel good?” He was staring up at her, biting his bottom lip and watching her intently.

Lea was trying not to moan too loudly; were they even allowed to do this? Her job was to get him hard, not let him make her orgasm. 

Lea was panting, her chest heaving as she moved her hips faster and faster. The knot inside of her was tightening, and she thought she might explode.

“There you go,” he encouraged darkly, watching her face with an intensity that should’ve been startling but only served to turn her on even further. “Let go. Cum for me, Lea.”

“T— Tim,” she gasped out, and he pulled her down to kiss her hungrily, his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her hair.

She moved her hips once, twice, three times, and then he bucked his own up against her, and she burst with a moan of his name, collapsing against his shoulder.

Tim held her close, rubbing her back as her body spammed with aftershocks. They sat there for several minutes, her cradled in his arms, before she stood on legs somewhat resembling those of a newborn fawn in that they were so shaky.

She’d just had her first orgasm. With her fucking coworker.

“Lea?” he asked hesitantly.

She said nothing, focusing on straightening her dress instead.

“Please don’t be embarrassed,” he pleaded.

“Embarrassed?” she choked out. “Who’s embarrassed? Not me! Definitely not me. Nope.”

He was silent for several seconds as she stared steadfastly at her shoes.

“We should probably talk about—“

“Nope!” she cut in urgently. “No talking needed, none at all, thanks! I’m pretty sure you’re needed on set anyway, so…”

“Uh huh.”

More silence.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

She nodded, wishing he’d just leave already so she could collect her thoughts.

And then he left, and she collapsed back onto the couch, reeling. 

[internalsealpanic]

Useless

Summary:  Jason has no idea how 'get a guard dog' could be misinterpreted.

a/n:  Dedicated to @littleredwing89 's dog who is an endless source of delight. Happy birthday, you useless mutt(affectionate).

warning: none

Jason did was pretty fucking sure he didn't need to be specific with his suggestion.

"Get a guard dog."

Which part of that was up to interpretation?

He glares down that large bundle of fur wagging its tail at him expectantly.

"Hey (Y/n), you got a receipt for him, yeah?" Jason asks (hopefully) as he stares into the mutt’s large sparkly eyes. The dog opens his mouth, panting at Jason and pawing at his leg.

You peek your head out of the kitchen with raised brows. "Uh that's not how shelters work, Jay."

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. "Well, can you give him back?"

"No."

"(Y/n), he's clearly not a guard dog," he says gruffly, trying to assess whether the dog has any brain cells.  The dog yips and nudges at Jason's hand trying to get him to pet him.

“Princess, the only thing he's defending is a food bowl.”

“He’s perfect.”

Jason looks at you and I mean really looks at you.

"Well. Ok. He's not but I'm attached," you say with a pout.

Jason lets out another put upon sigh. He hates you sometimes. "Sweetheart, unless this thing--"

"His name is Robbie."

He blinks at you."Robbie?"

You smile broadly and Jason feels his heart tick in his chest.

"As in like Robin?" He coughs, trying to flush out the warmth blooming in his chest. Most people describe it as like sparklers going off in your chest but Jason, the hardened crime boss, likes to tell himself that it feels more like fungus.

"Narcissist," you scoff, wrapping your arms around the ball of fluff, nuzzling your face against the dog. You're not allowed to be this cute.

"No, but I know the extent of your creativity."

You jut your bottom lip out at him petulantly. "If you must know, I don't actually know. That's just the name he came with."

Well, his brothers are definitely not going to buy that.

You roll your eyes seeing the incredulity in his.  "Check the papers if you want."

Jason looks astounded when he finds out you're telling the truth.

"See?"

"We're still not keeping him."

You hug Robbie closer to you. The (80 pound) pup whines and both of you stare wide-eyed. "Jaaaaay, pleeeeease."

"How long have you had him?"

You pause for a minute, seemingly calculating something in your head. "2 hours."

Jason stares at you both dumb and awestruck.

"How?!"

You raise your shoulders in a shrug. "I dunno, how did Bruce get attached to you after 5 seconds?"

Jason opens his mouth to protest but can't really find any rebuttal dramatic enough or clever enough so he keeps his trap shut.

"We're still not keeping Robbie."

You narrow your eyes at him. "Ok, how about spend an hour with him then tell me that again. Deal?"

Jason crosses his arms. "Fine."

Jason stares up at the ceiling, scratching the head of the fuzzball laying on his stomach.  Robbie snores and whines in his sleep, his leg kicking out at odd intervals.

"Fuck," Jason curses softly.

You grin down at him triumphantly. "So, are we keeping him?"

Jason glares down at the dog snuffing at his chest and the little shit beaming down at him from your spot behind the couch. He spoils you too much.

"We're keeping him," he scratches Robbie's head. The pup's ear flicks content with Jason's attention. "But."

Your face falls. "But?"

"I'm gonna train him to be a guard dog," Jason says seriously.

You let out a startled laugh. "Good fuckin luck Jay."

You squeal, the sound breaking both Jason and Robbie out of their haze.

Robbie's the first to launch himself off the couch. Jason raises his brow as the puff ball darts into the bathroom where the sounds are coming from.

Robbie skids to a stop, panting then laying flat on the floor.

It may have been too optimistic to hope the mutt grew a spine after two days of training.

Jason huffs out a laugh and ruffles the fur on his soft belly. He really needs to step up the pup’s training.

The window opens with a quiet snikt. Jason pads into the room his heavy combat boots scuffing against the hardwood floor.

The room is dark with only the ribbons of moonlight illuminating it. Jason forces himself to make his footsteps louder as he walks around the room. He waits.

Then waits.

Then waits some more.

He sighs and goes to look for Robbie.

Flummoxed, he finds Robbie curled up on top of you. The little bastard is snoozing happily while Jason, a potential threat, stalks through the apartment.

Ok, maybe the dog is just a heavy sleeper.

Jason wakes the pup up and tries to loom over both of you as threateningly as possible. He's managed to make grown men piss themselves with this look.

The dog wakes up dazed. He looks up at Jason, wide eyed and stupidly happy. He jumps  up, placing the pads of his paws against the front of Jason's chest armor. Jason has the teensiest heart attack. He really doesn't wanna fry your dog.

Robbie licks his helmet, covering the visual display in dog slobber.

Jason takes his helmet off and Robbie gives him a faceful of puppy licks.

“Hey Jay,” you grumble, burying your face into your pillow.

Jason runs his hand through your hair. You lean into his touch. "How's the training going?"

"Yanno, he just tried to lick a criminal to death."

You giggle.

Robbie looks ridiculously pleased with himself.

Jason may need to enlist some help.

"Todd."

"Gremlin."

"Please don't murder each other in front of Robbie. He's very sensitive." You joke, putting a platter of cookies in front of them.

The little menace plops himself in front of Damian nudging his snout into Damian's hand. Damian raises his brow at the dog. "Is he why you called me over?" He asks, denying the dog pets.

Robbie growls and presses his face into Damian's hand who simply glares at him. Taking the hint, he moves on and plops his furry butt in front of Jason who automatically pets him.

Jason sighs. "We need your animal handling expertise."

Damian plays a loud noise on his phone.

Robbie startles then  hides behind Jason.

Robbie is terrible. Jason huffs a laugh and tickles behind Robbie behind his ears. The pup leans into his touch.

"Stop indulging him," Damian says flatly, scowling at the cowering pup.

Jason smiles down wearily at Robbie.  "He just needs a little bit of coaxing." Damian rolls his eyes, looking more like a teenager than he usually does. Robbie pushes his snout into Jason’s hand.

"This," Damian point to Robbie, "is a dud."

Jason scowls, feeling offended for Robbie who is content with existing with zero brain cells. "Don’t let y/n hear you calling him a dud."

"This is a dud." Damian repeats louder as if to make sure you heard him.

You try to snort quietly and for the first time something dawns on Jason.

You knew you'd have to explain eventually.  You smile innocently. "I did go into the shelter to find a guard dog. I swear!"

Jason crosses his arms. "Uhuh."

"I did... but," you twirl your hand,"look at him!"

Robbie barks somehow knowing he's being addressed. He smiles and wags his tail.

You touch your fingertips together, shrinking  a little. "Besides, I thought he might help you relax."

You look up at him with a well practiced kicked puppy look. Jason, for some reason, looks to Damian for help who just shrugs.

You cough, burrowing yourself deep into the thick comforter. Jason rubs your back in soothing circles.

"I told you to wear a coat." He scolds smuggly.

"And I told you to stop getting shot at." You wheeze. Your throat feels warm and scratchy.

"And here I am in one piece."

"Jaaaay."

"Fine, what's your dying request?"

You bury your face in a coughing fit, trying to hide your smile. "Walk Robbie."

Robbie comes rushing in upon hearing the word 'walk'. He jumps on the bed and licks Jason's face.

"Little shit."

"Jaaaaay." You whine.

"Fine." He exasperates, trying to shuffle the pooch along.

Jason watches as Robbie tries to eat another amorphous brown thing.  Jason tugs at his leash gently.

"Are you gonna eat everything you sniff?" Jason grumbles.

The dog answers by trying to eat something else.

Jason runs his hand through his hair with a loud sigh.  "You're useless."

The dog stares up at him, looking like he's gonna start rolling on the ground and begging for belly rubs. Jason has to admit that he finds Robbie's brainlessness kind of endearing.

Maybe he's ok with him.

Robbie licks his hand and flicks his tail.

He ruffles the pup's hair. Ok, more than a little ok.

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Rivalry Put To Rest

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Arranged marriages (non of that under age like child marriages though fuck that yuck, these are obviously of age adults i just really wanna make that clear jesus), praise kink, modern AU, just lovely soft sex with my favorite man :'^).

Word Count - 2.4k

Other Comments - Dude it’s been so long since ive actually written anything im so sorry. But i couldn't resist writing this. I know i promised xiao but he will come in time. This is a little bit of a slow burn, or at least the sex doesnt start right away lol i want this to be nice and soft. P.s. youre on birth control so dont worry about no condom lol.

You did not like this idea. Why your parents were still forcing you into this was beyond you seeing as how you were a fully grown ass adult. You just couldn’t stomach the disappointment you would be seen as in their eyes. You were the daughter to the CEO of one of the most well known Law Firms in Teyvat. Zhongli was the son of another CEO who controlled your Rival company. Yours's and his parents wanted to finally settle the bad blood between the firms by having the two of you get married. You knew damn well the benefits of doing this was, god forbid if your Fathers firm went underwater, you would still be secure with Zhongli as your husband.

It’s not that you didn’t like Zhongli, and he certainly was not ugly; you just couldn’t stand your freedom to choose who you really wanted to marry being ripped from you. It was non negotiable though, so you had to go through with it. Zhongli didn’t seem to mind at all, he thoroughly enjoyed his very brief moments he had with you before, and was frankly excited to get more of those moments. He just hoped you didn’t resent him or blame him for this.

You both of course had an extravagant wedding, why would you not when your family was one of the wealthiest in Teyvat. You were grateful to your parents for letting you invite a few of your friends, and it seemed Zhongli had done the same. There was almost like a crowd formed around you two at the after party, you talking to your friends, and him with his. Zhongli had offered you his arm to hold onto, but you politely declined, feeling that even just holding his arm was too intimate for you.

“Already trouble in paradise for the two lovebirds?” One of Zhongli’s friends had chuckled, a red head with a stupidly smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you shot a look at him. Your friend Ningguang frowned, turning to look at your now husband.

“Control your dog, Mr. Zhongli.” You let out a chuckle, when you heard Zhongli’s friend scoff.

After a while, it was customary for the newlyweds to go on their honeymoon; so after a couple of hours you had to bid farewell to your friends and family. You approached the jet the two of you would be taking, with Zhongli carrying the luggage not far behind. You went ahead and boarded, while your new husband spoke with the pilot and the crew, sighing to yourself.

“Come on (y/n) suck it up, this honeymoon will be over sooner than you know it.” You mumbled to yourself, settling into the high class jet.

“Did you say something (y/n)?” You jumped, not expecting to hear Zhongli’s voice. “Ah.. My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” You sighed and shook your head, waiving your hand to dismiss the apology.

“You’re fine Zhongli, I’m just… Nervous is all.” He hummed in response, nodding as he settled himself into the jet.

“I understand (y/n), I really do apologize about this being thrusted into your lap. I know this isn’t the ideal circumstances for a young woman to go through.” You nodded, glad that he understood your hesitance to the situation. Zhongli really wasn’t a bad guy.

“It’s really not your fault Zhongli, I understand you probably had no more say in it than I.” You gave him a reassuring smile, the first genuine smile to grace his line of sight. Without noticing he found himself smiling back, relieved that you didn’t see him with any contempt. A comfortable silence settled, as the jet took off towards your destination.

It wasn’t a long flight, and along the way you were able to make small talk, slowly learning more about Zhongli. After two short hours, you felt the jet jump slightly against the ground before steadying itself on the runway. After a few more moments, you both departed, Zhongli once again handling the luggage, leaving your side to retrieve it.

Before you knew it, you were at the house you would be staying at for your honeymoon. It sat on a beautiful beach side shore, with a large open patio looking out over the ocean. By the time you guys had arrived it was already around 10:00 o’clock at night, so the crescent moon was high in the sky as you both stepped out onto the patio. The moon and stars gleamed against the inky black water, with the rhythmic beating of the waves lulling you both into a comfortable silence. You stood next to your husband and finally for the first time that night, actually took in his face.

The light of the scenery exposed the beauty Zhongli held in his face, the pale light bouncing off his cheekbones and illuminating his golden irises as he looked out over the sea. He must’ve felt you staring because moments later those golden eyes were locked on yours.

“Do you like the scenery (y/n)?” You gave a quick nod before ducking away from his gaze, a red flush rising to your face. You heard him chuckle for a moment before shifting.

“I know what is customary to happen on our honeymoon, and I do not want you to feel pressured to fulfill that part of our relationship.” You flushed even more as you suddenly found the pattern of the wood to be very interesting. You had completely forgot that sex was usually something people did on honeymoons. It seemed normal, because generally the people who get married have had a relationship before this so nothing felt awkward about the topic. Obviously that wasn't the case in this situation, but there was something in you that kind of wanted to. Something in you that felt comfortable enough with him to do it, you already trusted him which shocked you. What if he wasn’t though? What if he was uncomfortable with the thought of having sex with you right now which is why he brought it up so suddenly?

“Thank you Zhongli, you’re too kind. You’ve truly been so understanding through this entire thing.” You looked back up to him finally, and found a gentle smile on his face. He nodded and hummed before turning back to the house.

“We should probably get to bed, it’s already fairly late.” You nodded, pulling out your phone to check the time. You both walked about into the house together. “There is another room down the hall from the master bedroom if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed. It’s smaller so I could always take it.” There he goes, being considerate and kind; handling your thoughts and feelings like glass that would break any second. You remained silent for a moment contemplating on what he had said, before gently shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to share the bed with you.” You smiled up at him, and he looked almost surprised with your willingness, but the shock didn’t last for long before he smiled back at you and nodded; offering you his arm to hold on to, which you shakily took. You both reached the bedroom, where he had placed all of your guy's luggage before letting you go to retrieve your sleeping clothes as he did the same. You went into the bathroom, to give yourself and him some privacy before slowly re-entering. Zhongli was in a pair of brown silk pants with golden accents and a black short sleeve shirt. Your eyes met each other, and Zhongli smiled when he saw you.

“I know that these were unideal circumstances to get married, but I’m happy it is you who is my spouse. I can only hope you think the same of me, and that at some point you can genuinely feel connected to me.” You blushed as he said this, genuinely taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. You feel bad for dreading and almost resenting Zhongli when you were first notified about the engagement, once finding out just how compassionate and caring the man before you was. Slowly, the two of you made your way into the large king sized bed. There was a large gap between the two of you, large enough to comfortably fit another person. Your mind raced a mile a minute trying to decide whether or not you should scoot in a little closer to the man next to you.

And so you did, without taking another moment to think about it you shifted closer to Zhongli until your side gently pressed against his. You felt Zhongli stiffen beside you for a brief moment, and for a split second you regretted scooting in; that was until you felt him roll over onto his side and wrap a strong arm around your torso. You could really take in Zhongli’s scent like this and you noticed that he smelled like amber rum, chestnuts, and a hint of vanilla. It wrapped you in a warmth that lulled you into a comforting silence as the two of you laid together like this.

You rolled onto your side, letting Zhongli’s arm now rest against your waist. Your noses were almost touching as the two of you stared into each other's eyes. You saw his eyes dart down to your lips for the briefest of seconds, letting yourself do the same.

“Zhongli…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?” You saw Zhongli’s eyes widen as his gorgeous eyes met yours, not expecting you to ask him that.

“I would love nothing more… Darling.” You flushed at the mild pet name, before softly placing your lips onto his. It felt as time skidded to a halt, as the two of you moved against each other with the grace of a slow dance. Soon enough it became heated, as you changed positions and straddled his hips. You could feel his boner pressing against you through his pants, and it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“You really want to do this right? You don’t feel pressured my dear?” You smiled at Zhongli’s questions, nodding before he could get another one out. It felt good to be so concerned about, so doted over.

“Yes Zhongli, I really want to do this with you. I trust you.” This time it was Zhongli’s turn to flush, an elegant smile gracing his lips. Before long, the both of you were out of your sleeping clothes and back on top of one another. Your back was to the silken bed sheets, as Zhongli was on top of you lining his hard cock up with your eager pussy. Zhongli gave you one last look before slowly entering you inch by inch. To say he was huge would be an understatement, so he knew he had to take it slow with you so as to not hurt you in any way. Zhongli needed this to be a good experience with you, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you or made this unenjoyable in any way at all.

The noises you were making and the way your hands were clawing at his back reassured him that he was doing everything right so far, always stopping after pushing in a few inches to give you time to adjust. Without thinking, Zhongli's mouth just started moving as words spilled out.

“You’re doing so good for me my angel, you’re taking me so well. You’re too good for me.” With the praise spilling out of Zhongli’s mouth, you couldn’t help but unleash a flurry of loud moans, as he bottomed out. He stood still for a couple moments, making sure you were nice and comfortable, until he felt you trying to move against him; trying to get him to move in and out of you.

“If you were ready for me to move, all you needed to do was ask my gem.” You let out a whine like moan, that evolved into a guttural groan when he finally started to thrust in and out of you. Your nails raked across his skin, surely leaving marks for you to admire after this was all said and done. He wasn’t skipping out on the marks either, as he sucked and bit at your skin, still throwing out praise every time his mouth left your skin. His fingers dug into your hips, as he sped up. He just couldn’t help himself, your wet quivering pussy just felt way too good wrapped around him; sucking him in every time he pulled out.

“I can’t believe it took us getting into an arranged marriage to finally meet, my god where have you been all my life.” Zhongli had begun to groan, obviously getting close to tipping over the edge, with the way his thrusts continued to get sloppier every so often. You moaned in response, too blissed out of your mind to form actual words. Zhongli’s head fell against your shoulder, his ebony black hair hanging off his shoulders.

With a few more strokes, Zhongli had both of you tumbling over the edge and cumming in unison. All that could be heard in your room was the quiet crashing of waves and the combined panting of the both of you. After a few moments of Zhongli getting his breath back he tumbled down next to you, sweaty shoulders touching. A couple seconds of silence passed before you spoke up in a raspy broken voice.

“It took us so long because I’m technically your rival.” You were giggling slightly, when Zhongli let out a loud chuckle.

“I guess you are right my dear, but now we are joined together. And I cannot wait to see what comes of our joining.”

[cjtheghost-14]

Comfort In The Stars - Lance McClain x Reader

Requests: I hate to bother you but I saw where you said you were taking prompts from your list and um... Would you be willing to do a LancexFemale Reader, prompts number 24? Thank you so much for your time!

Notes: Eeeh, it’s Lance! I’m really excited for this one, thanks for the request! Sorry it’s short, this one was kinda self indulgent, oop-

Summary: Sometimes the reality of your situation starts to weigh on you. Your trapped in space for who knows how long, you may not see your family for years. One day it’s too much to handle, and you break. Lance is always there to cheer you up though, he never fails to.

Warnings: Swearing, Breakdown, Fluff, Unedited 

It was too much. It was all too much. You hadn’t signed up to fight fucking aliens in space, away from everybody you love. Your mental health was a mess, but you had bared it with a smile until now. It all came crashing down. You were grateful it at least happened in private.

You were in your room, huddled under the blankets, the fleece becoming to dampen with your tears. It felt as if a thousand pound weight was pressing on your chest. And you knew all of the paladins would be there for you, but you didn’t want to burden them with your problems. Especially not your boyfriend, Lance. You couldn’t let him know, that you of all people, was falling apart.

It was as if the universe heard your thoughts and decided to make you even more upset. Suddenly, there was a knock on your bedroom door. You shoot up in bed, quickly wiping your tears away. You wish you could fix the red in your eyes but you could probably hide it, depending on the person. You quickly pull the hood of Lance’s stolen hoodie over your head, attempting to hide your face.

“Come in.”

To your dismay, Lance walks in. You were always happy to see him, but now was the wrong time. He would be able to tell something was wrong, and you weren’t ready for that conversation.

“Hey-“ He starts to say with a big smile on his face before he gets a better look at you, his expression instantly dropping. “…you’ve been crying.”

Damn it. “O-oh, no I’m fine.” You stutter, pulling down your hood more.

“No, no no.” He says sternly, suddenly running and tackling you, squeezing you tightly. His arms wrap around you, his hands pressing into your back. He nuzzles his face into your chest before looking up at you, staring into your eyes. “Your not going to be sad on my watch, what’s wrong darling?”

You don’t respond, barely able to meet his gaze. You felt guilty hiding your pain from him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to elaborate on anything.

When you don’t speak up his expression softens as he sits up, moving the hood out of the way before pressing slow and gentle kisses across your face. “We don’t have to talk about it.” He whispers before smiling softly. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

You snuggle further into the blankets in response, sinking into his hoodie you stole. “Comfy.” You whisper, looking up at him.

He smiles brightly, taking a moment to admire you before he wraps the blankets around you. Then he does something that surprises you. He picks you up gently, chuckling softly to himself. “Too bad, I’m stealing you.”

A laugh slips through your lips as he runs out of your room and down the hall. “Lance, what are y-“ you start to say before cutting yourself off, watching as Keith sticks his head out of his room, giving you two a weird look. Lance sticks his tongue out at him before skidding around the corner, laughing. You could feel your sadness start to melt away as Lance carries you to the empty bridge, the stars creating a beautiful display. It almost took your breath away.

He gently sets you down on the steps as he sits beside you, taking you in his arms. “My love…” He whispers, resting his head on top of your own. You melt into him, gazing up at the stars as a soft smile appears on your face.

“My darling…” you respond, a feeling of true happiness engulfing you. Lance always knew how to cheer you up, even if he didn’t know what was wrong.

That’s when he starts singing in your ear softly. It made your heart melt. How did you get so lucky? You close your eyes, lost in his voice. It was surprisingly angelic, and it brought peace to your pained soul. You let yourself slowly drift off to sleep to the sound of Lance’s voice.

[aggravatetheaxe]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request an imagine where a victim “escapes” from the slashers and hurts s/o in the process. What would the slashers do during and after? Thank you!!

Hi! I wasn't sure which slashers you wanted for this, so I put my list into a randomizer and went with the first 5!

Walter Sullivan

Thomas Hewitt

Jason Voorhees

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Erik ("The Phantom")

SLASHERS WHOSE VICTIM HURTS THEIR S/O

cw: mentions of suicide, reader being injured/in mortal peril, mentions of torture and killing etc etc

--

Walter Sullivan

Oh no. Oh dear.

You are possibly the only good, pure thing in this world or the Otherworld and someone hurt you? Walter is ... not happy, to put it lightly. The only person who should ever hurt you is him, and he won't do that unless it's for your own good.

This only enforces his belief that the world and everyone in it are monstrous. It drives home the truth he's already convinced of - this existence in terrible and torturous and needs to be destroyed if anything holy is ever going to be allowed to blossom again.

Whether The Victim is pre- or post- Walter's suicide, he's already stopping at nothing to go after them. He doesn't view it as personal, he doesn't hold any particular hatred for most (most) of his victims; they're simply links in a chain. But this person, the one who hurt you ... it's personal. They'll die in absolute agony.

If the victim in question is pre-suicide, Walter will bring them down and find somewhere to keep them for later. This will not be a quick death.

While they're bound/gagged or knocked out, he'll check on you. You're special, possibly even the Mother Reborn, and he can't let you die until the time is right. If you're seriously injured, he'll see to it that you're taken to the hospital, and pray to a dead God if he has to that you'll be alright. If you're not seriously injured, he'll do his best to patch you up - he lived on the streets for many years and had to take care of himself, so he knows basic first aid.

Once he's certain you're safe, he will put you somewhere where you won't witness what he's about to do. Even if you want to see it, he'll insist you stay hidden, saying the sinner doesn't deserve to be in your presence. You'll have to really convince him if for some reason you want to watch.

Their torture will depend on what they did to you. If it was just a few scrapes and cuts, he'll let them feel every ounce of pain before they die. If they really hurt you, their torture will be prolonged. In his mind, and according to his religion, death is a sacred sacrament, and this evil being doesn't deserve its release. If they did something to seriously traumatize and/or sully you ... the crime scene he leaves behind is going to be grisly, to put it lightly.

If the victim in question is post-suicide, the results will be similar, but he has absolute control over the Otherworld - and he will utilize that. He will have his creations take care of you and keep you somewhere safe ... they may be terrifying, but they won't hurt you unless he wills it. As for the victim, he can twist them into their worst nightmares over and over again before killing them. He will make them see their wrongdoings and pay for their evil. They will beg for mercy and there will be none.

After it all, he will simply move onto the next one, with you somewhere safe ... until it's time. Until it's time. You are so perfect.

Thomas Hewitt

Dammit. If he'd just been quicker or smarter, he could have caught them before they escaped and hurt you. He immediately blames himself.

There's no time to beat himself up over it, though. He briefly checks to make sure you're not bleeding from anywhere vital and sends you (or locks you up) somewhere safe before going after the victim. You're on your own for first aid for now - unless you're literally dying, he can't let them leave the property.

If you are literally dying, he's staying and doing all he can to help you. But if Hoyt yells, he may have to pawn you off on someone else and hope they do a good job taking care of you. He'll hold your face and give you tender kisses goodbye - whether you want them or not - because this might be the last time he ever sees you.

He chases the victim in a fever, much more erratic than you would expect from him. He's faster, less careful, more inclined to put himself at risk just to get a swing in at them. It's not generally anything personal when he kills someone - it's something he does for the good of his family, and because he was told to. This one he's not interested in saving for meat. They hurt you. You, his special person. He's going to grind them into the mud, and he's not even going to let Hoyt have a go at them.

Sometimes, sometimes, he struggles to see the animals in his victims. But this one ... he doesn't even feel the urge to twist them into an animal. That's a whole human, an evil one, one he wants to kill. It's a different feeling for him.

Once it's all over and everything's calmed down, he's rushing directly to your side. People don't come around all too often, so he's comfortable putting down the chainsaw for now. He neglects any skin projects he planned and lets someone else do the butchering, focusing on taking care of you, especially if you're seriously injured and put up in bed.

If you're not as seriously injured and tell him you're fine, he's still keeping an eye on you ... and making sure you're well-fed. You've been through a lot and it was all his fault. He doesn't want you to be exposed like that again. Next time someone comes around, he'll insist you hide somewhere.

Jason Voorhees

It's a toss up whether or not he'll actually notice you're hurt. Not because he doesn't care or anything, but because Camp Crystal Lake is a lot of ground to cover and there's a low chance he'll be in the same area as you at any given time.

For this imagine, though, let's assume you've found your way to him or he's sensed you're in trouble and has rushed to you.

You were supposed to be safe in the cabin, so he's a little irritated that you wandered out, but that's completely overshadowed when he realizes you're hurt. He stops everything he's doing and clinically and thoroughly pats you down, identifying every solitary injury.

Just like his mother before him, he is a vengeful soul, so he is not letting this go even if you're just scraped or bruised. If you are critically injured, he'll at least get you to the cabin and get a tourniquet on you.

Otherwise, he leaves you behind. Not very mindful, but you should know that he wants you to get back to the cabin or at least stay out of the way. He is no longer thinking of you - he has established his target and knows what he has to do. He's laser focused and decisive as he stalks after them, using anything at his disposal to get to them.

Their death is quick - he doesn't play around - but he has a lingering sense of irony and playfulness. If there's a particularly interesting weapon nearby, he'll take them out with that; or perhaps he'll hurt them in the way they hurt you, just, you know ... more fatal. And a lot gorier.

After that, he'll move onto their friends, until every last one is dead. Once his objective is completed, he is returning to you directly and finishing the job of patching you up.

He can't help but feel a little guilty that you were hurt. You shouldn't have left the cabin, true, but perhaps he should have been watching for you. He should have locked you up. Pamela might say rude things in his head. Then again, she might comfort him. If she doesn't like you, maybe she'll even wish he'd left you to die.

Deacon Billings (OC Ghostface)

Well ... you usually keep him around to scare off other Ghostfaces - something he's very handy at - but you don't usually run into trouble with his victims.

He doesn't really tell you to go anywhere in particular when he's killing. He knows you can take care of yourself. But now he feels stupid for not having a backup plan. Of course some asshole was gonna eventually identify you as his loved one and try to get cute. He should've had something prepared for that.

But, if he's good at anything, it's improvising. He skids into whatever room you're in, drops his weapon, and pulls his mask off right away to check you over. If you're only mildly injured, he's visibly relieved, and tells you to stay put while he deals with whomever hurt you. If you're more seriously injured, he'll grab your phone and shove it in your hand. "Get in the car, get the fuck out of here. Drive to the emergency room if you have to, just leave."

If you're unable to drive, he'll make you call emergency services - or call them for you, if he has to. The game is over, he's done playing; this isn't fun if he's not winning. Everyone in this place is gonna be dead and he'll be long gone by the time the ambulance shows up for you.

The one who hurt you is going to get an extra special surprise. A particularly grisly death, and a bunch of selfies/short videos of Ghostface with the corpse - taken with the victim's own phone, posted to their instagram, tiktok, facebook, sent to any discord groups, and any other social media they have. If he has the time, he'll even make them in meme formats (definitely posting with meme captions, the fucking troll). He'll probably send a copy to you as a "hey, look what I did!"

If there are survivors, especially if that survivor is the one who hurt you, you better believe he is immediately doxxing them. Since he's had a little time to cool down, he might even play the long game, maybe catfishing and blackmailing them. Ruining their pathetic little life even further would be pretty fun. In the end, though, they'll die like all the others.

When all is said and done, he's going to be there for you, helping you recover any way he can. He'd suggest rest (for an amount of time relative to your injury), some movies and candy, maybe some video games. And time spent with your favorite Ghostface, of course, right?

He'll never forget what happened, though. Even though the person is dead, he'll be stewing and pissed off about it for a long, long time. And he won't let something like that happen again, or at least, not without a contingency plan in place.

The hash mark/tally mark he stitches into his costume to symbolize this kill is gonna be twice as long and large as the others, maybe in the place you got hurt as a reminder.

Erik

You already know what's about to happen.

If anyone so much as hurts your feelings they're getting menaced and receiving a strongly worded letter - actually physically harming you? That's suicide.

If he can't immediately kill this person, or if you're seriously injured, his primary objective is helping/comforting you. He has to push down a lot of wrath to do it ... every instinct tells him to immediately dispatch the fiend responsible ... but you are more important to him than anything in this world, even revenge. He will administer any first aid you need and may even drug you with ether to ensure you rest.

Don't think that means your attacker is off the hook, though. As soon as he decides you're well enough, he will put you somewhere safe - lock you away if he has to - and kill them. His preferred method is the Punjab lasso, but if they did something particularly egregious, he'll knock them out and take them to his torture chamber. They have a lesson to learn before they go to Hades.

Another option is, like Deacon, playing the long game ... playing with his food, stalking them, making them live in fear before they die. But he has a lot of wrath in that skinny little body, so it's a toss up as to whether or not he'll actually be able to follow through with that for very long. It depends on his mood, really!

He will keep the killing and torture hidden from you, of course ... unless you express an interest in seeing the vengeance being carried out. He would be worried for you, however, and advise against it. Those sights are not for the faint of heart, and certainly not for someone as beautiful and good as you.

Once all is said and done, it's as if it never happened. As if that person never existed! What a happy thought! Sometimes you even think Erik has completely forgotten the incident ... until he's stalking another victim and he locks you away again, and you remember you are always on his mind. He will never, never let that happen to you again.

[valdomarx]

Untouchable

Octoberfest day 31: cursed

“Fuck! Geralt! Help!”

Geralt rolls his eyes as Jaskier comes skidding to a halt in front of him. He dreads to imagine what trouble he’s gotten himself into now.

“Something terrible has happened! I had an, umm, unfortunate encounter with a sorcerer.” He blushes, pink creeping over his cheeks. “And he put some horrible curse on me and portaled away, the bastard.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow. “Hmm.”

“And now I can’t touch anyone. Look!” Jaskier holds out a hand to stop a passerby. He goes to shake the confused man’s hand, but the moment their skin makes contact Jaskier gives a yelp of pain and leaps back.

That reaction isn’t feigned, Geralt is sure, even as the man gives them both an odd look and leaves.

“When you touch someone, does it hurt badly?”

Jaskier’s bottom lip wobbles. “It really does.”

He sighs. A lack of touch might be a mere annoyance for him, but he knows it’s more than that for Jaskier. “I’ve heard of a mage who specialises in lifting curses. But he’s all the way in Kovir, and that’s no small journey.”

Jaskier turns big, pleading eyes on him. “Please, Geralt, I’ll do anything. You have to help me.”

As if he could ever refuse him anything. “Alright,” he grumbles. “We’ll head to Kovir.”

-

At first, Jaskier appears as bright as ever. Yet as the days pass, more and more often he chews his lip in a nervous habit, and he rubs his fingers together when people come too close. He smells of anxiety and restlessness.

Each evening, once the dinner has been eaten and the sun has set, they lay out their bedrolls by the embers of the fire. The scent of anxiety is replaced by one of loneliness and Jaskier will curl in on himself, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. It’s sad, how much lesser Jaskier seems to feel without touch.

Geralt is used to being shunned, to going months without a friendly clap on the shoulder or shake of the hand. But Jaskier isn’t, and the curse is taking a toll on him. Geralt wishes he could help, that he could provide some comfort, but he knows right now all he can cause Jaskier is pain.

-

They need coin for their journey, so Geralt takes jobs along the way. He’s on a contract to clear a nest of nekkers and he has, for some unknown reason, allowed Jaskier to accompany him. Jaskier had wheedled and pleaded and in the end Geralt had found himself unable to say no.

It should be fine. A nekker nest is an easy job, and as agile and springy as the creatures are, they’ve no stamina and they’re easy to kill.

That must be why he allows his concentration to slip when he’s approaching the nest, his eyes darting to the side to check Jaskier is safe behind a rock. The momentary slip lets one of the foul little things bounce up to him and sink its teeth into his gauntlet, more of an annoyance than a real threat. He shakes it off with one hand and uses the other to cut more of the creatures down with his silver blade. His gauntlet goes flying, but no matter, he can collect that later.

He rounds on the last few of the creatures who are nickering angrily. As he circles them he sees Jaskier peeking his head over the rock and then creeping closer, trying to get a better look.

Fuck. He kills two of the nekkers quickly, but the last three have picked up on Jaskier’s scent and are eyeing him with interest. Geralt sees two leaning back on their hind legs, preparing to leap at Jaskier and cut him to shreds with their sharp claws.

He has a split second to make a decision: Grab Jaskier and risk hurting him himself, or leave him where he is and watch the creatures go for his chest. It’s no choice at all really, so Geralt sends up a quiet word of apology and grabs Jaskier firmly around the neck with his ungloved hand and shoves him out of the way.

The last two creatures leap into the air, but with their target gone they’re easy prey. Geralt cuts them down with minimal effort and turns, expecting to see Jaskier writhing on the ground in pain.

He’s not though. He’s sat in the mud with a puzzled expression on his face.

“That didn’t hurt,” he says, seemingly mystified. “Well, being thrown to the ground was not the most delightful experience, but when you touched me - it didn’t hurt.”

That is strange. Geralt had been sure he’d triggered the curse.

Jaskier gets to his feet and regards Geralt quizzically. Very carefully, he reaches out and touches his fingertip to Geralt’s bare hand. He doesn’t flinch back or gasp in pain. Instead, he takes Geralt’s entire hand in his own, and a beautiful smile blooms over his face.

“I can touch you! But how?”

Geralt stares down at their joined hands, unsure why he feels unsteady. “Witchers are immune to magic?” he guesses. “I suppose that could be -”

He’s interrupted by Jaskier throwing his arms around him and hugging him close, happy little sounds of joy and relief spilling from him. “Oh, Geralt, thank the gods, I was losing my mind.” He snuggles deeper against Geralt, rubbing his face into his neck and hanging on tight.

“Oh. Well.” It seems the only thing for Geralt to do is to hug him back, so he puts his arms around his shoulders and draws him in.

-

Jaskier keeps touching him all the rest of the day. Whenever he bumps their shoulders or grabs Geralt’s hand, he breaks out into a wide, goofy smile, like it’s novel and fun every time.

Perhaps the curse has worn off? The next traveller who passes them by, Jaskier finds an excuse to stop him and shake his hand. But the moment their hands touch, Jaskier yelps in pain.

He’s still cursed then. But he can touch Geralt. Strange.

And Geralt can’t help but indulge him, even though he knows Jaskier is touching him because he’s the only option, not because he really wants to. He reminds himself that Jaskier would surely rather be off with some pretty lady, not grasping at a crotchety witcher for comfort.

But still, every time Jaskier brushes their hands together and smiles, he feels a little wobbly inside.

-

That night, he watches as once again Jaskier curls in on himself, small and sad by the fire. The further north they travel, the colder the weather grows, and the more distressed Jaskier becomes.

“Hey.” He keeps his voice soft, and Jaskier turns to look at him with big, wide eyes. “Join me?” He lifts a corner of his bedroll and waves him over; an offer, not a command.

Jaskier immediately scurries over and burrows into him, all hands and hot breath and happy murmurs. He settles into Geralt’s chest with a contented sigh, and Geralt wraps his arms carefully around him.

This, at least, he can do. Jaskier will find someone else to warm him soon enough, but for now, he has Geralt.

-

Geralt is on his way back from a job when the sound of raised voices makes him quicken his step. Outside the inn where he’d left Jaskier, he spots a distinctive bright blue doublet in the midst of a gang of angry-looking locals. They’re poking at him and taunting, and Jaskier is gasping in pain.

“Look at this precious little thing,” one of them sneers. “So delicate he can’t even bear to be touched by us lowly folks.”

The man reaches out and grasps Jaskier firmly around the wrist, and Jaskier screams, raw and excruciating. The sound reaches into Geralt’s chest and twists painfully, and he breaks into a sprint.

The next thing he knows, the man is on the ground before him, sobbing as Geralt twists his arm to the point of breaking. The others have fallen back, trying to hide behind each other, and Jaskier stands off to one side cradling his wrist.

“You don’t touch him,” Geralt growls, and the man before him pales even further. “Understood?”

The man nods frantically, babbling apologies, and as much as he’s tempted to break a few bones to drive home his point, he knows Jaskier wouldn’t want that. He drops the man’s arm and snarls, “Go.” He and his friends beat a hasty retreat, leaving the street empty but for him and Jaskier.

“Jask,” he says, and it breaks his heart to see Jaskier so pale, a tear running down his cheek. “Are you alright?” He’s wracked with guilt - he should have been here to protect him.

Jaskier smiles sadly. “I’m fine. My own fault, really.” He reaches out as if to touch Geralt’s hand before faltering, unsure.

He’s clearly in need of comfort, so Geralt pushes his own uncertainties aside and steps closer. He brings up one hand to wipe away the tears from Jaskier’s cheek, and cradles his face as gently as he can. “It’s okay,” he says in the tone he uses to reassure Roach when she’s frightened. “I’ve got you.”

Jaskier blinks up at him with watery eyes, but his smile is more genuine now. “Yeah,” he sighs softly. “Yeah, you do.”

-

Jaskier still insists on performing as they travel, and as much as the thought of him among all those grasping hands sets Geralt’s teeth on edge, he does understand. For all the times that he’s been injured and insisting on continuing to work, it would be hypocritical of him to deny that to Jaskier.

He sways carefully around the tavern as he plays, and to a stranger he’d seem relaxed and at ease but Geralt knows him well enough to see the anxiety in his rigid movements. Each time a hand reaches out toward him he flinches, though normally he’d be luxuriating in the attention.

Each flinch has Geralt’s grasp on his mug of ale tightening, until the wood is groaning beneath his hand and he has to shake it loose lest he crack the mug and send ale flowing over the table.

Jaskier can take care of himself. He’ll be fine.

-

He certainly does seem fine, and by the end of the evening he’s caught the attention of a pretty girl with voluminous curls spilling out from the dainty handkerchief tied around her head. When Jaskier is done with his performance she buys him a drink, and she leans over the table to giggle as they speak in low voices.

Geralt watches from his corner table and scowls. He tells himself his foul mood comes from concern for Jaskier, from worry that this woman might hurt him unintentionally. He almost has himself convinced it’s true.

There’s no point skulking in the shadows all night, he knows, so he finishes his ale and heads upstairs to their room. As he lays down, the bed feels strangely empty without Jaskier’s bustle and scent and colour. Wondering when he became so damn soft, he slips into a meditation.

-

It’s not long before he’s revived by the sound of Jaskier creeping into the room and hurriedly undressing.

Geralt rubs his eyes, dispelling the lingering wooziness. “I thought you’d spend the night celebrating,” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “With that nice young lady.”

In the low light, he sees Jaskier shrug. “It got rather awkward when she kept trying to touch me and I kept having to run away.”

“Too bad.”

“Yeah.” He settles into bed next to Geralt. “It’s just -” Geralt can smell the mixture of exhilaration, arousal, and frustration on him. “It’s frustrating. Wanting something and not being able to have it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt knows that feeling all too well.

“I’m -” Jaskier turns his head away a fraction, and Geralt can see a blush spreading over his cheeks. “I’m not used to going so long without… you know. It’s making me antsy.” He rubs the palm of one hand against his crotch, shifting awkwardly in the bed.

“Hmm.” He inhales again, and the scent of arousal is sharper, more prominent. He rolls onto his side, tentatively places a hand on Jaskier’s thigh. “I could help,” he offers. “If you want.”

He’s expecting to be told no. He’s expecting Jaskier might even push him away, disgusted. He’s not expecting the way Jaskier sucks in a breath, the way the scent of arousal blooms, the way Jaskier squims beneath his hand.

“You’d do that for me?” Jaskier’s voice is breathy.

I’d do anything for you, he thinks but doesn’t say. Instead he places his hand on top of Jaskier’s and guides it to the fastenings of his trousers. Jaskier unlaces himself in a clumsy rush which Geralt can’t help but find endearing, and then he’s working his cock free, rubbing gentle strokes with their two joined hands.

It’s nice like this, where Geralt can let Jaskier guide him, show him what he likes. His fingers tease along the soft skin on the underside of his cock, the delicious slick at the head. As he strokes, Jaskier shakes in his arms, gasping and writhing. When he comes, it’s with a soft, gentle sigh of contentment that Geralt wants to bottle and keep forever.

Jaskier makes a tokenistic effort to wipe himself down with a shirt and collapses back into bed. “Should I…” He chews his bottom lip. “Would you like me to return the favour?”

Geralt’s cock is pressing against his trousers like iron, and Jaskier must be able to feel it. But he didn’t do this with the expectation of recompense. He just wants Jaskier to feel good.

“No, it’s okay,” he says softly.

“Oh,” Jaskier sounds disappointed, almost. “Okay.”

They fall asleep like that, curled up close together, but a feeling of uncertainty hanging between them.

-

In the weeks after that, Jaskier takes to touching Geralt even more. They sleep close together every night, and they find pleasure in each other when they need to. Geralt makes his peace with this unspoken arrangement: he is a hand to Jaskier when he needs it, and Jaskier returns the favour as a politeness.

The first time Jaskier kisses him while they rut together, his heart is fit to burst out of his chest. Trading favours is one thing, but the surge of love and heat and affection that erupts in his chest when Jaskier brings their lips together can’t be denied. He could kiss Jaskier every single night and never tire of it, he thinks. Late at night, as they move together, Geralt feels himself falling.

It’s not everything he wants, but it’s enough.

It has to be enough, because soon they’ll make it to Kovir, and then they can lift the curse, and then Jaskier won’t need him at all any more.

Geralt catches himself wishing that the curse won’t be lifted, and then he’s disgusted at himself for being so selfish.

-

Kovir is beautiful. Sharp, snow-dusted mountains dart up into the sky, and great rivers flow with fresh water through green, lush lands. The city of Pont Vanis is breathtaking, with spire towers reaching up toward the heavens and rich mosaics of glasswork covering every surface. Each new corner seems to hold some elegant delight of artistry, and Jaskier grabs his hand to pull him along each new street to behold some fresh wonder.

But they are not here for gawping, Geralt tells himself, and he steers them toward the address of the mage he’s heard is an expert in curses.

Once inside, the Koviri mage stares at the pair of them.

“A curse, you say?” He raises an eyebrow.

Geralt stands protectively behind Jaskier, ready to leap to his defense should the mage prove troublesome.

“Yes. Whenever anyone touches me, I feel horrendous pain.” Jaskier grimaces. “Except for Geralt. For some reason, he can touch me and it’s fine.”

The mage nods. “I see. Did you perchance anger a magic user?”

“Ahh.” Jaskier looks at his feet. “Well. There was a mage whose acquaintance I made. He seemed… less than happy when I declined his offer of companionship.”

The Koviri mage shudders. “What monsters southerners can be. Cursing someone because they rejected you, what hideous behaviour.”

Geralt is warming up to this mage already.

“Let me see what I can do.” The mage closes his eyes and reaches out his hands, holding them a few inches from Jaskier’s chest.

He opens his eyes again and squints curiously. “Strange. I can’t feel any curse upon you.”

He reaches out, and pokes Jaskier in the chest. Geralt leaps forward, ready to defend his bard from this onslaught, but he’s stopped in his tracks by Jaskier’s voice.

“Huh.” He sounds perplexed, not pained. “That’s odd. That didn’t hurt at all.”

They reason perhaps it’s because the mage is a magic user too, so they bring in the mage’s servant. He touches Jaskier’s hand and again he’s fine. Then they try the washerwoman next door. That’s fine too.

The mage shrugs and smiles. “It seems that the curse has worn off. Some weaker enchantments only last a matter of days.”

Jaskier’s eyes go wide. “You mean… all this time, I’ve been fine? I could have been touching anyone?”

The mage hums, eyes sparkling. “So it appears.” He looks at Geralt, and his gaze is penetrating. “Perhaps it has not been such a loss for you though, hmm? There are many paths to knowledge.”

-

They stagger out into the weak Koviri sunshine and Geralt is consumed with guilt and relief and worry. Surely Jaskier will hate him now. Hate him and leave him, now they’re no longer tied together.

“Jaskier-” he begins, just as Jaskier turns to him to say, “Geralt-”

They stare at each other a beat too long.

Geralt’s shoulders slump. Let the end come if it must. “Go on,” he says, bracing himself.

“Thank you.” Jaskier is giving him that soft, quiet smile that he loves. “For taking care of me.”

That doesn’t make any sense.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I should have known better. I understand if you want to leave.”

Jaskier shakes his head and takes his hand. “Come on.” He leads Geralt toward one of Kovir’s elegant public parks. “Let’s walk.”

-

They stroll beneath a series of wooden archways, woven thick with roses. The sunlight peeks through in dappled spots on the springy grass.

“I don’t regret it,” Jaskier says. “These last weeks. I don’t blame you. You’ve done nothing but try to help me.”

“But you could have been with anyone.” Geralt’s stomach twists at the thought he’s been keeping Jaskier against his will. “You could have touched anyone. Kissed anyone. Found anyone else to bring you pleasure.”

“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier stops and tenderly brushes a stray hair from Geralt’s face. “I didn’t want anyone else.”

Geralt barely dares to breath. Hope rages within him, frothing and exuberant. “You mean-”

“I didn’t want anyone else then, and I don’t want anyone else now.” He leans in and presses the softest kiss to the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “I always just wanted you.”

His heart feels like it could beat out of his chest. “So you’ll stay with me? Even now?”

Jaskier strokes one finger down his cheek, and his entire world narrows to the joining of their bodies. “Always,” Jaskier promises. “There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

[imjustafangirl-nobodylovesme]

Happy Valentine's Day to @homosexualrodent ! I hope you like your gift for the @officialthiamlibrary 2022 Valentine's Day exchange!

💝💝💝

Theo hustles toward the Valentine's candy aisle as fast as he can without actually running. He knows putting this off until the last minute will mean all the good stuff is gone. He should've made his trip to the store ages ago, but he'd been caught up in work and lost track of time.

As he skids around the corner and into the aisle, he pouts at how picked over everything already is. Freaking vultures. He checks his watch and sees it's only a quarter after 3. See, this is exactly why he usually makes this trip earlier in the day. 50% off chocolate on February 15th waits for no one.

He sighs and wanders down the aisle, hoping he can find something decent so he doesn't have to walk away empty-handed. If nothing, a bag of Toosie Pops will hold him over for months, but he knows he's here for chocolate chocolate.

He finds where his favorite brand was stocked up a few days ago and pouts some more when he sees nothing but empty boxes. Just to be sure, he paws around the boxes and checks the one in the back of the shelf.

He's about to give up and look for something else when he sees it. The heart-shaped box is one shelf down from where it's supposed to be, the bottom corner crushed like it got stepped on. Who even cares about that? Even if it's crushed, any chocolate in that box will taste just fine.

Grinning in triumph, he reaches for it.

He's too caught up in his score to notice the other hand reaching for the same box. But as he goes to lift it from the shelf, he has to tighten his grip to keep his prize from being stolen away. Standing up stragI got, he finally looks up to see the would-be thief.

"No way, dude. I saw these first." The guy says, tugging on the box. "Let go."

"I was literally standing here this whole time. Where did you even come from?" Theo tugs back. "There is a shit ton of other chocolates right over there and these are damaged. Go get one of those boxes. This one is mine."

"But all those other chocolates suck! And I don't care if this one is squished. Let go!"

Their tug-of-war match continues, both men trying to convince the other to pick something else.

"I literally got dumped yesterday, man." The stranger whines. "I deserve this after being dumped on Valentine's Day."

Theo pauses, then continues his fight. "Look, normally I'd empathize, but I've been looking forward to this for a year. I've been single for four years and this is the only thing that gets me through this wretched holiday. I deserve this, too."

The tugging on the other end stops as the blue-eyed stranger blinks up at him. "You really expect me to believe you've been single for four years? Yeah, right." He flips Theo off with his free hand. "Fuck off with that nonsense, man, and just give it up."

"It's true!" Theo yanks the chocolate out of his grip and crosses his arms to keep it away from him. "Why would I lie about something like that?"

The guy pouts at his empty hand, then looks up at Theo. "I don't know why you'd lie, but you're like way too hot to be single for four years. Unless you're a total asshole. Which I'm inclined to believe, to be honest."

It's Theo’s turn to blink at the other guy in surprise. This guy thinks he's hot? Sure, he looks a little sloppy in his beanie and two days beard growth, but he looks fit, and Theo's sure he cleans up very well.

"Well," he finally says, "That seems pretty hypocritical, don't you think?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Theo gestures at him. "I highly doubt you got dumped because of looks."

And just like that, the guy deflated right before Theo's eyes. "Hell, maybe I was. He said he'd been cheating on me for months."

Ah, shit. Now Theo feels like the asshole this guy accused him of being.

"Damn, dude. I'm sorry." He sighs. "If it makes you feel any better, that's why I've been single for so long. Haven't been able to bring myself to trust someone new."

"Sucks," the guy sniffles.

"Yeah." Theo looks down at the chocolates in his hands. He really doesn't want to give them up, but this guy really is down. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Uh, Liam. Why?"

"Hello, Liam. I'm Theo." He holds his hand out and watches as Liam shakes it. "How about this? You and I take these chocolates to the check out counter, and then we head to that cafe down the street, and I treat us to some coffee while we shit talk our exes?"

A wobbly smile lights Liam's face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And with that, Theo leads them through he store with a battered box of chocolate between them.

[love4buckybarnes]

PROMISES

Summary: Bucky and Y/N we’re married and love. But differences had set them apart. A promise, one of many they had made, was broken, threatening the love between them.

Bucky Barnes x Reader. Warnings: car accident, minor injuries, mention of pregnancy complications, and angst. Happy fluff ending.

A/N: Let me know what you think of this one. The title is a bit questionable so if you have one that you’d like to share, I’ll credit you :).

They were both madly in love. When they first saw each other, the world stood still. Cheesy, but it was true. At least that’s what they would tell everybody of how they met. Their romance story is one you would read from a book or see in a movie. Bucky knew Y/N was the one, so he got on one knee and asked her to marry him. The day he proposed and when they made their vows and promises, were the most memorable moments together. Ones they could never forget.

Time went by and what appeared like the perfect happy couple turned upside down. Around family and friends, they put on a fake persona. Behind closed doors, the endless fighting and tension caused a rift between them. It started when they were trying for a family. Sometimes things aren’t just handed out freely to everyone. Y/N experienced fertility issues. It was stressful for the both of them. Most fights were over something small which would blow up out of proportion. Some nights they made up, and some nights, one would end up on the couch. Sometimes they wondered if they should give up.

Tonight was supposed to be important. Y/N had all of it planned out for the special occasion. She made reservations at their favorite restaurant. Bucky promised he would be there. Despite everything, she still loved him all the same. She wondered if he still loved her .

She sat there alone. The stares and looks of the people around her was unsettling and made her embarrassed. Y/N had been all dressed up and makeup done. Eventually, she had enough of waiting and stormed out.

The door to their apartment swung open. Bucky has been sitting at the table with his face scrunched up in concentration. He couldn’t even bother to look up.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Y/N spat out each name, crossing her arms. She was furious.

Bucky glanced up. “Hi,” he said quickly, before returning his attention to the computer in front of him.

This made her tick even more. She marched over to where he sat and slammed the laptop shut.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Bucky exclaimed, standing up. The chair fell backwards to the floor with a loud bang. “Why would you do that? I didn’t save what I was working on.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped. “Do you remember where you were supposed to be tonight?”

Bucky thought for a minute. After remembering and realized his mistake, he cursed. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

She stepped closer to his face. “You promised you were going to be there.”

“Sam needed me to work on this mission. It’s important. I got wrapped up in it.”

“So this was more important than what we had planned?”

“No, I did not say that. Now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” he fought back.

“Gosh, why can’t you just try to put in a little more effort?” She hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down her face.

“Me try? How about you?” he scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You have everything to do with this chaos of whatever this is just as much as I do. In fact, it’s all you. It’s all because of you!”

Y/N felt like someone cut into her chest with a blade and ripped her heart out. She always thought it was her fault. And now he blamed her, too. This has been the last straw. “Oh wow, well, thanks for the clarification I needed to know.”

“Where are you going?” he asked in a frantic tone when she headed towards the door.

She paused in her tracks to answer him. “I need to go. I can’t be here. Especially knowing what you really think of me.”

Bucky winced at her words and flinched at the loud thud she made when she left. The palm of his hand brushed over his face. He regretted what he said. He never blamed her. Whether she knew it or not, his love for her has been the same since they have met.

Thunder rumbled, and lightning dashed across the dreary night sky. Y/N stepped out into the pouring rain. She reached the car parked across the street. Before she could get in, Bucky stepped in front of her, blocking her from going any further. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Please don’t go,” Bucky begged. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

Y/N avoided his eyes and yanked away from his grasp. She was so angry, she didn’t know what to believe anymore. “Yeah well, you have a funny way of showing it.” She got in, locking the door. He knocked on the window. Ignoring him, she drove off. Her mind swirled and her eyes hazy with tears. She wasn’t sure when she would come back, or if she would return at all.

Bucky saw it happen right in front of him. He watched her drive off. Turning around to go inside to get out of the rain, he heard the tires from afar screech against the concrete. He looked back just in time to see the vehicle swerving. The slippery road caused the car to skid across the road. It hit a curb, tumbled over and rolled a few feet away.

He could hear his heart pound wildly in his ears, stomach turned in knots. He felt as if his airway were being constricted. Bucky didn’t feel his legs carry him over there, not caring he was soaking wet. All he cared about was her.

Darkness spotted her vision. A blurry figure appeared in front of her. Even through fogged vision, she recognized who it was.

“Baby?” Bucky croaked out, his voice soft, trying to keep himself calm. Inside, he was all but calm. He had to keep the sheer panic under control so he could help her. “Stay with me, okay? I’m going to pull you out.”

“Bucky?” she hissed out in pain.

“I’m here, Doll,” he said reassuringly.

Her eyes fluttered. A loud snap in her ear stirred her back to consciousness.

“Don’t close your eyes, love,” he pleaded. “Just focus on me, okay? Keep them on me.” He watched her fight herself from passing out. His hand reached in to unbuckle the seatbelt that held her to the seat. With ease, he unhinged the door, that was already hanging off the rest of the way. He carefully maneuvered Y/N from the car and set her down on the ground. He trembled as he dialed 911.

When he looked back down, she was unconscious. Blood seeped from the gash on her forehead. He slapped gently on her cheeks to get her to wake up, but she was out cold. Bucky felt like his whole world was shutting down. He couldn’t contain the sobs escaping his throat. He rarely cried. He’s only ever shed tears a couple of times in front of her. Once when they first said I love you and when they said their vows.

Guilt devoured his entire being. The whole time they’ve been together since being married, had been spent with fighting instead of loving each other. All he ever truly wanted was for the both of them to be happy. But he let the blaze consume them.

Hearing sirens wailing in the distance, relief released from Bucky. Flashes of bright blue lights got closer, and soon the EMTs were there to help. They placed a brace to keep her head and neck supported in case there was an injury before putting her on the stretcher. For Bucky, it was all in slow motion. He blocked out the EMT asking him questions, jumping into the back of the ambulance.

At the hospital, he tried following her into the emergency room, but wasn’t allowed to. He paced around outside. His foot tapped on the tile uncontrollably, the nerves wracking his mind. He held his head between his knees to keep himself from having a panic attack.

Couple of hours later, the nurse stepped out to talk to him. “James?” she called out.

He jumped up hearing his name. His jaw clenched as he waited to hear what she had to say.

“Your wife is going to be fine. She has a concussion, a few stitches, and a fracture in her collarbone ,” she started to say. He let out the deep breath he has been holding in. “The baby is also fine.”

Bucky whipped his head up, confused. “The what?!”

“Oh, maybe you didn’t know, but she’s pregnant,” the nurse clarified. “Luckily, the baby doesn’t have a scratch.”

Now he understood. Why it was so important to be there at the restaurant, and why she was so upset about it. The guilt he felt engulfed him more. He needed to figure out how to make it up to her. Bucky swore to himself he would never disappoint her again and to keep all the promises he makes.

Annoying constant beep sounds lulled Y/N out of her sleep. Vivid white blinded her vision as she came to. She groaned at the pounding pain in her head. Her fingers twitched, gripping the sheets. Eyes opened to the ivory room. Her face scrunched up, trying to remember what happened and where she was.

A snore next to her got her attention. Bucky slept in a chair beside her hospital bed, waiting for her to wake up.

“Bucky,” she rasped out, her throat scratchy.

Bucky stirred. When he realized she was conscious, he sprung awake. He called for the nurse to check her over, making sure everything was fine. When she left, he sat back down, taking one of Y/N’s hands in one of his, pressing it to his lips.

“Oh, baby,” he said, ever so softly. He brushed the strands from her face and tucked it behind her ears. “Oh, thank god you’re awake.” Tears brimmed, and he didn’t care, letting them fall. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes. He gently left kisses on her cheeks. Calloused thumb brushed the delicate skin.

“What happened?” Y/N asked.

“You got in an accident,” he explained. “Just a concussion, broken collarbone, and a few scratches. And you might be achy from the whiplash.”

Y/N shot up out of bed in dismay, only to be pinned back down.

“Hey, no, you need to stay in bed and rest,” Bucky ordered her, firmly keeping her from moving.

“But the bab-,” she began, but Bucky cut her off.

“I know,” he said sadly, interrupting her. “I know you’re pregnant. The baby is fine, love.”

Y/N felt relieved. “How did you find out?”

The small smile on his face dropped. “When they x-rayed you to check for injuries, they found out you were pregnant.” His lip trembled as he cried harder. “I’m so sorry. That’s what you wanted to tell me. That’s why you wanted me to be there. I should have kept my promise and showed up. If I had, you wouldn’t be here.”

Y/N knew he was being true to his word. She reached up to wipe the tears from under his eyes. He sighed, leaning in to her touch he missed. “I’m sorry too. I was so excited to tell you. Things haven’t been easy for either of us. I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

He shook his head, beating himself. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s not your fault. None of it is. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. From now on, no more fighting. I just want to be us again.”

“‘I agree, Bucky,” she agreed. “I’m tired of fighting too. You still love me right?”

“Yes of course I still love you,” he said, in disbelief. “I love you so much. I could never stop loving you. And when you left, I was so ashamed. Then I witnessed the wreck. I thought I was going to lose you for good. And now I’m going to be a father. You’re going to be a mother.”

Y/N started to cry too. He kissed away the tears leaking down her face. “We’re going to be what we have always wanted. A family. You won’t lose me. I love you.” She grew weak with exhaustion.

“Sleep, darling,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Before he could step aside, she took his hand to stop him. “Lay with me?” she begged.

He smiled, with the usual twinkle in his eyes that she adored. “Of course.”

She scooted over, making room for him. Bucky laid down next to her. Not wanting to hurt her anymore, he cautiously enveloped her in his arms. For once in forever, they both felt harmony. All the worries and differences lost in the past. They knew the rift between them was no longer. What seemed like the perfect couple hidden under the fire, still was. And they both knew their love for each other was now stronger than ever.

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: brief violence

Word Count: 1560

—————————————

Chapter 14: The Countdown

The walk from Elliott’s to Reginald’s took up enough of (Y/N)’s time. When she approached the door, she hastily wiped her tears before pushing the front door open. The house was wrapped up in its usual silence. It never really made noise unless she was home, after all. Rushing up to her room, she locked the door and set her puppy on the ground before changing her clothes. She avoided looking at Mr Pennycrumb as she moved about her room, throwing on articles of clothing and pulling on shoes. Opening her wardrobe, she dug into the pocket of one of her coats and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The note was pressed to her lips as she shut her eyes, a moment for the world to freeze only for her, before slipping it into her pocket. With a deep breath, she spun around to meet the expectant stare of her beloved pet.

“Nothing’s ever easy, huh, Penny?” She sniffled, kneeling down beside the bed to watch him lean down and lick her fingers. “This was supposed to be my easiest relationship, baby, and now I gotta leave you… I know we’ve only known each other for less than two months, but I’ll remember every single moment we spent together, bud. I wanted so badly to watch you grow up, to finally grow into that big personality of yours. But I’ll need you to be good for Mom… because we both know how Dad feels about you being around.”

The puppy barked and licked her face, clearing her tears as he did so. She giggled and kissed the top of his head.

“I’ll never forget you, Mr Pennycrumb. You absolute angel. I love you so much.” Standing to her feet, she slowly approached her bedroom door, giving the entire room one last look. She wasn’t attached to it. Not in the slightest. But there was one little savior who, sitting on her bed and tilting his head, she would forever be connected to. “I’m leaving you in the best hands possible. Goodbye, baby.” She breathed and shut her door. Covering her mouth, she sped down the staircase and towards the front door.

“(Y/N)?! Where have you been?!”

Shit.

Wiping her tears away yet again, she turned to her mother and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I-I...” She croaked. Grace’s frown softened before she crouched down in front of her.

“Honey? Is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine… I just, uh… I have a really bad headache and it’s a little overwhelming.”

“Oh… I can get you some-”

(Y/N) quickly shook her head. “It’s fine. I was going to head into town, get some fresh air.”

“Well, that’s fine, hun, but you cannot run off like that. You nearly gave us a heart attack! You can’t do that to me. Y-You just can’t!”

“I’m sorry, Mom-”

“Especially right now… I-I wanted to talk to you.”

I don’t have time, I don’t have time.

“Have you,” Grace sighed and looked away, a very clear internal battle going on within her. “Sweetheart, do you notice anything about your father? Anything strange?”

Furrowing her brows, (Y/N) stepped closer. “What… do you mean…?”

“I mean with his work. Do you know anythin’ about what he’s doin’? With the meetings, the secrecy. I-I know it isn’t fair to ask this of you, but I… I-I need to know.”

(Y/N) glanced to the side as she weighed her options. She could always lie to Grace, tell her that she had no idea what Reginald was up to, his plan to kill the president. But she knew her mother deserved so much better than yet another lie from another person she trusted dearly. So, she lifted her head and nodded, hoping it was enough. It seemed as if that were the case, because Grace took a deep breath and enveloped the girl in a hug. (Y/N) sniffled and held her mother tight.

“If I find anything dangerous goin’ on, I’m leaving, (Y/N). I’m leavin’ and I’m takin’ you with me.”

The young girl widened her eyes at these words. “You what?”

“You’re my daughter, (Y/N), adoption be damned. I promised you I would take care of you no matter what. And if removin’ you from Reggie’s life will do that, then I will do what I have to.”

“And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I love you so much, Mom…”

“I love you, too, hun.”

(Y/N) never wanted to get attached, she never wanted to build happiness like this for herself, because she knew it’d eventually get ripped from her. One way or another. Still, it was a fun ride while it lasted. Pulling away from the hug, she sniffled again and rubbed her nose. Grace’s smile was full of so much care, adoration and unconditional love that (Y/N) had to step away to let herself breathe. “Well… I’m going now. Um… Mom? Could you do something for me while I’m gone?”

“Anythin’.”

“Please, take care of Mr Pennycrumb. I don't know what I’d do if something happened to him.”

Quietly chuckling, Grace nodded and clasped her hands together as the girl opened the front door. “I promise, only if you promise to be careful. I need you here with me, darlin’.”

“I promise, Mom.”

Stepping out of her home- of Reginald’s house, (Y/N) glanced down at her watch.

Thirty minutes. Shit!

Spinning on her heel, she sprinted her way in the direction of the alleyway. Her chest heaved, her breath was labored, and her arms pumped as her legs worked restlessly to take her to her destination. Locals scowled and gasped when she pushed past them, the girl calling out multiple apologies over her shoulder after the fact. She nearly ran past a corner she had to round, skidding to a stop and turning back around. When she did, she was met with a pair of dark brown eyes. “Preston!”

“You’re coming with me.” He huffed and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her in the opposite direction, back where she started. “I’ve been looking all around Dallas for you. I talked with your dear father and he said you didn’t mean what you said.”

“I don’t have time for this! Let go of me!” (Y/N) thrashed in the hold he now had around her waist. Preston growled and pinned down the arm she had just freed from his grasp.

“You never have time for me, (Y/N)! That’s the problem with you women! You always want the world to revolve around you! Well, you’re just gonna have t’make some time for me! Right now!”

“Goddammit! Let go of me, you little shit!” She shrieked. She freed her arm once again and reared her elbow back towards his face, but he quickly moved his head away to dodge it. The next second, she heard a grunt, and Preston’s hold on her was gone. Spinning around, she saw the boy on the ground, unconscious, blood dribbling from his nose. “What the hell?”

Her eyes moved up and widened at the sight of Lila dusting herself off. Her expression was almost unreadable to (Y/N), but she detected exhaustion. The two stared at each other for a beat before they both nodded. Lila turned her gaze forward and ran off in (Y/N)’s opposite direction. The young girl let out a breath, took one last look at Preston, and continued her sprint to the alleyway.

Arriving there, she almost crashed into the brick wall. “I’m here, I’m here!” She breathlessly called out to Five and Luther. “I’m here- Ew, what the fuck?!” She yelped, her foot almost landing in a splatter of vomit. Beside it was a groaning Klaus, the man muttering something about a strange dream.

“Thank god,” Five clenched his jaw and checked his watch. “Anymore last minute arrivals?!”

“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?!” (Y/N) hissed and made her way over to the seething Five, who only spared her a glance before looking around the alleyway again.

“We’ve got a minute left.” Luther muttered and smashed his fist against the top of the closed dumpster.

Klaus groaned and placed his hands over his face. “What’s going on, guys? Are we going somewhere?”

“It was a simple task,” Five ranted as he paced the alleyway. “It was a simple task! All we had to do was be here. Didn’t have to fight a giant sea monster, no. Any army of mutants? Nein!”

(Y/N) checked her watch, sighing as their last remaining minute ticked away. Heading to the opening of the alley, she moved her head from left to right, hoping to see the last of her siblings rushing to their way home. But alas, no one arrived and she could hear the three behind her yelling at each other. The sound of clicking got her attention and she turned around to see everyone watching the briefcase.

“Goddammit.” Five muttered before bending down and picking up the briefcase by the handle, flinging it into the air. With a zap and a whoosh, their ticket to 2019 disappeared in a bright blue portal. The four watched as the portal disappeared, much like the first time they were left in this timeline. “We were that close.”

“That close…” (Y/N) sighed.

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @keayastitties @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @georgeweasleys-gorl @theyaremorethanjustfictional @that-can-of-fizz @luckyzipperscissorsbat @cuupiid

[hyuckssunchip]

Blooming Pt. 2

Pairings: Jisung x Reader, ft. nct dream, lucas (honorary member of dream)

Words: 5.5K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, fluff

Synopsis:

Love isn’t as easy as it seems, Park Jisung is an advocate of that. A blooming relationship that has prematurely ceased can be re-sparked years later, or can it? Will Jisung be able to overcome his fears in order to succeed in what he deems love?

Part 1 | Part 2

“What’s this?” Renjun picked up the textbook on the kitchen table.

Jeno looked up from his laptop briefly, shrugging before returning to the screen. “Jisung threw it there earlier today.”

Renjun picked up the book, getting a good look at the cover, “The Introduction to the female reproductive system? What’s Jisung doing with a book like this?” He pulled the receipt from the back cover, glancing at it.

Jeno finally stood up from his seat, peeking over his shoulder and shaking his head with a frown.

“Jisung said not to touch it.” Jaemin entered the rooming, sitting across from the boys, munching on a snack. “He’s got to return it later.”

“Why?” Renjun asked, sending a look at Jaemin who was spreading crumbs. “The receipt says he bought it today.”

Jaemin grinned sheepishly, getting the message, and he wiped the crumbs into the palm of his hands. 

“I don’t know. Probably the wrong version or something.” Jaemin stood up, dumping his handful into the trash.

“But Jisung’s not even taking a class remotely related to this. Why would he buy it in the first place?” Renjun pushed. 

“I don’t know.” Jaemin shook his head at him, “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask who what?” Chenle asked, entering the kitchen to grab an apple.

“Jisung bought a weird book.” Jeno spouted whilst typing away.

Chenle laughed, “Of course he did, no wonder he’s been in such a happy mood.”

“What?” Renjun asked.

“Yeah, he’s had the dumbest smile all over his face since he got back.” Chenle took a large bite out of the apple.

“Where did he go?” Jaemin cocked his head, wandering around the kitchen for another snack.

“I don’t know, probably the bookstore.” 

Jisung emerged from his room, wearing a grin that very similarly resembled Chenle’s expression. He hummed a tune that soon overtook the rest of the hushed chatter, the other boys simply stared at him. Even Jeno stopped his typing, watching Jisung intently.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jaemin asked leaning in close to the unsuspecting boy.

“Hmmm? Oh. Nothing.” Jisung just grinned back.

“Right. Nothing.” Renjun squinted his eyes at him, with a sarcastic tone.

Jisung couldn’t help the smile that seemed to grow. “Actually I-”

“Guess who?” The door slammed shut.

“Haechan, seriously. Just text us before you come over. One of these days you’re gonna give someone a heart attack.” Renjun scolded.

“Really Renjun? You’re not eighty, I’m not going to scare you to death.” Haechan brushed past the muttering boy.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Haechan chose to ignore it if he had heard. “So what are we talking about today?”

Chenle perked up, being the first to offer information. “Jisung bought a weird book, and he’s super happy about it.”

Mark frowned at Jisung, “What?”

In return Jisung spared him a glance before correcting the previous statement, “I have a date.”

“Dude no way.” Mark clapped Jisung on the back, which consequently had him stumbling forward a few steps.

“With who?” Jaemin creeped forward with interest.

“Guess.” There was a cheeky grin that brightened his features.

“No fucking way.” Haechan let out unintentionally. “I mean, congrats Jisung.”

“When?” Renjun asked, more than slightly intrigued. 

“Friday.” He smiled at his feet, “I asked her today after we got back from the bookstore. Also, that guy? Not her boyfriend.”

Jeno spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What’s the book for though?”

“Oh.” Jisung turned red, “I told her I had to buy a textbook too, and I just grabbed a random book. I didn’t mean to grab that one.” He scratched the back of his neck, in embarrassment.

Chenle snorted, “Wow, some luck.”

But Jisung didn’t feel the same sentiment, as he was still over the moon about your date. He didn’t mind the embarrassment for a moment, the ending result was well worth the sacrifice.

“So where are you guys going?” Haechan asked, wicked thoughts already entering his head.

“No. The answer is no.” Jisung’s smile dropped for the first time. “I’m not stupid, and I don’t want you showing up.”

Haechan playfully scowled, “I’m just trying to help, just give you a little push is all.”

“I don’t need a push. I got a date just fine without you.” Jisung retorted, stealing a cookie from Jaemin as he left to return to his room.

“Do any of you know?” Haechan immediately turned to ask the others.

They all shook their heads, even if they did know they wouldn’t tell Haechan. After all they were rather hoping Jisung and you would get together, and the chances would significantly slim if Haechan were to get involved.

“So Jake told me Lucas has been raving about you since your last date? What’d you do? Sleep with him?” Alex snickered at the thought.

“Yeah.” You deadpanned, not taking your eyes off your book.

There was a loud thud from behind you and you tried your hardest not to laugh. 

“What?!” You turned just in time to see Alex bound over to you, skidding across the floor.

A smile betrayed you, “I’m just kidding. I don’t know, we just had a good time.”

“Bitch.” She muttered under breath, obviously annoyed by your lie. “I was really excited. You didn’t have to do that.”

You giggled, “Is my love life really that interesting?”

“Yes.” She crossed her arms, “I’m bored because I’ve already got a boyfriend. I need to live vicariously through someone.”

You frowned at her before returning to your book, “Well, just because I feel kinda bad for lying to you, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.”

You didn’t have to look up to know she was leaning in intensely, “What?”. It came out as a whisper and you could see how badly she wanted to hear it.

“I’ve got a date.” 

Alex leaned back with a sigh, evidently unimpressed. “That’s your secret? I mean I already assumed Lucas was gonna ask again. I wanted something more juicy.”

You bit your lip with a smile, “It’s not with Lucas.”

That had her. “Holy shit. Who?”

You glanced at the wall that separated you and your neighbors, and she immediately understood. “Jisung?”

For a moment it was unusually silent. Then she let out an ear-deafening squeal. “Oh my god! He finally asked you? Or did you ask him? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

The frenzy of questions had you laughing at her excitement. “He asked me just a few hours ago.” You couldn’t hide the smile any longer, teeth now on full view.

She scooted closer to you, grabbing a hold of your arm, “Tell me everything.”

And so you did. For the most part it was you recanting your story, and every once in a while Alex would squeal and smack you in excitement.

Eventually her excitement died down, after all the girl only has so much energy.

“What about Lucas?” She asked softly, glancing at your profile.

You picked at the page nervously, hissing when you got a paper cut. Immediately you stuck your finger in your mouth, a habit you had since you were a child.

Although Jisung asking you out was something you had wished for since the moment you met him, you knew it wasn’t right to just drop Lucas like that. Besides you liked the guy, he made you feel comfortable, and not to mention he really knew how to lay it on thick. He was a natural flirt. 

Of course you liked being flirted with, doted on. And Lucas really was a great guy. But in all honesty you couldn’t really see a future with him. He just didn’t send flutters in your stomach the way that Jisung did. 

You pursed your lips in thought, mulling over how you were going to go about the situation. 

“I don’t know. We’re supposed to meet for lunch tomorrow. I guess I’ll tell him then.” You sighed, not liking how you were suddenly thrust into this situation. Why did two great guys have to come at the same time?

Alex nodded, understanding your predicament. She also understood the way that you felt about Jisung.

Feelings that didn’t go away after two years, meant something, didn’t they? 

“I’m really sorry. I think you’re a great guy, really.” You paused, watching his reaction. You had just dumped everything on to Lucas, and you couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Resentment? Anger? Disappointment?

But he just nodded with a tight smile. It clearly wasn’t genuine. 

“I hate it when people say this, but it isn’t you it’s me. Really. You’re a fantastic guy, and I think anybody would be lucky to have you as a partner. But… I just can’t ignore my feelings, you know?”

You bit your lip with a frown, looking up from under your lashes. 

He laid his hand on top of yours, just holding it for a moment. 

“I understand. And there’s absolutely no hard feelings.” This time the smile seemed less forced. “I wished things could’ve worked out, but things don’t always go the way we want right?”

You sent him a soft smile, guilt still plaguing you.

“And just so you know, if you ever want to hit me up, I’m all for it.” He paused, glancing at you, “Whether you want a friend or something more.”

In silence, the two of you looked at each other for a moment.

“Y/N?” A voice interrupted you, making you widen your eyes.

Why did he always seem to catch you in compromising situations?

“Jisung.” You froze, unable to move or find the words to explain yourself. This obviously didn’t look good, here you were on what looked to be a ‘date’ just after accepting Jisung.

But he did know the situation, he did know that you were seeing Lucas. But it didn’t mean that he was keen on seeing you with him.

It seemed like everyone was left speechless, including a very wide-eyed Haechan, who you would’ve thought never could happen.

Jisung’s eyes flickered to the way Lucas’s hand enveloped yours, and you immediately pulled away, brushing your hair behind your ear out of nerves.

Looking between the two of you, Lucas seemed to get a pretty good idea of what was going on. He stood up and sent you a soft smile, before turning back to the group. 

“I’m gonna pay for it,” he cut you off as you tried to protest. “I’ll see you around sometime.” And with one last glance at the boys he shouldered past them.

The silence lasted for quite a while. 

“Guys, there’s a table- Oh, hi Y/N.” Jaemin had walked in belatedly, missing the situation, and was way too bright for the circumstance.

Renjun elbowed him in the side, earning a wide-eyed look of confusion.

You waited, hoping for Jisung to say something, because for some reason your mouth wouldn’t move. Words you had to say, dying in the back of your throat. 

But Jisung didn’t have anything to say. So he left.

You sent a shy smile to the boy next door, but he quickly ducked past his door, leaving you with the sound of the slamming.

You bit your lip. You didn’t blame him for being upset at what he saw. You would be too. You just thought that he would at least talk or look at you by now. 

Even your random run ins with Jaemin seemed to have an awkward air, like he would get in trouble if he talked to you.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want.” You ranted frustratedly to your roommate. “Our neighbors are avoiding me like the plague, and I can’t even get a smile out of Jaemin. Jaemin! The dude doesn’t know what it means to not smile, and now suddenly he’s a pro at it.”

You huffed, glaring at Alex. At this she put her hands up as if to say she wasn’t the one who didn’t smile at you.

You collapsed into the chair, shoving your head into your crossed arms. 

“Why don’t you just try to talk to him then? Clear things up.” She asked gently, as though she was worried this suggestion might set you off again.

“You don’t think I want to? He avoids me at all costs. If I can’t even get him to look at me, how’m I supposed to have a conversation with him?”

Alex shrugged, thinking the better of meddling again, choosing to retreat to her room to leave you with your own thoughts.

However, unbeknownst to you, the same chaos was occurring right next door.

“Should we talk to him?” Jaemin whispered while staring at the hallway, as if suddenly Jisung would pop out and let him have it.

“Does it look like he wants to be talked to?” Chenle asked sarcastically, “I don’t know about you, but I like my limbs intact.”

Jeno nodded, “I’ve never seen him this upset before. We should just let him cool off.”

“Cool off? He’s been cooling off for the past week, that’s not helping.” Renjun muttered angrily. He had unfortunately been a victim of Jisung’s wrath the night after the incident. 

“He’s just upset. I mean can you blame him? The girl he’s been in love with for the last two years was holding hands and obviously on a date with the dude, even after Jisung asked her out.” Chenle whisper-shouted. Even he wasn’t going to risk Jisung hearing this. 

“But he knew.” Renjun said, “He knew she was going on dates with this other guy. I mean what does he expect, she’d just drop him like that?”

Although Renjun had logic in his statement, none of the guys seemed to back him up.

“But I mean, the day after? And Jisung was over the moon when she accepted.” Chenle argued back.

“It’s not like she wanted Jisung to see them together.” Renjun hissed.

“Oh that makes it so much better?” Chenle wasn’t one to back down easily, and his voice was starting to rise.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Renjun huffed out, “It’s not like she wanted to hurt him by having him see that. Besides she may have already planned the date, or have a reason. He should at least talk to her-”

“Shhh.” Jaemin threw a hand over Renjun’s mouth at the sight of Jisung leaving his room.

“Thanks. I really appreciate you guys talking about me behind my back.” Jisung glared at the group. “Why don’t you go over and talk shit about me with Y/N? I’m sure you’d get along nicely.”

“Well it’s not like we can talk to your face, can we?” Renjun shouted, fed up with Jisung’s mood.

Jisung scowled once more before slamming the front door behind him.

“Well that went well.” Jaemin mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Jisung!” You stumbled down the stairs, trying to catch up with the blonde haired boy before he escaped.

But he didn’t even turn at the sound of your voice, and he seemed to hurry up as if avoiding you at all costs. 

Eventually you got the hint and stopped in your tracks. This had been going on for too long now, and you were fed up with the fact that no matter how hard you tried, he just chose to ignore you. 

So you plucked up your last ounce of courage, yelling at him from behind, with clenched fists.

“If you’re not going to even pretend like you’re interested, why did you ask me out?” You asked angrily, feeling a choking feeling rise in your throat. 

This caught his attention and he turned to face you with a frown, not quite understanding what you meant.

You were embarrassed and angry, feeling humiliated at the thought of Jisung not actually liking you. But he just stood and stared at you, no emotion even remotely hinting at the fact that he wanted to try, or that he cared. You had passed up on Lucas for this? You passed up on a great guy for someone who refused to even talk to you?

“I can’t believe that I picked you over Lucas.” You mumbled out, hand angrily wiping at the tears that had already escaped. “You know what, forget our date. If you were even planning on showing up.” You knew this was harsh, but to be fair, he wasn’t exactly being the nicest person right now.

Jisung’s eyebrows flew up towards his hairline, hand shyly trying to comfort you, but he didn’t have the courage to actually do it. He just watched.

You were pissed. You had tried multiple times to reach out to Jisung and try to reconcile, but you were met with no cooperation.

It felt as if you were reliving the time when you were texting with each other. He felt unresponsive, uninterested.

Of course, you knew that your actions could’ve been misconstrued or misinterpreted, but he hadn’t even let you explain.

Now the agenda of avoiding one another was mutual. You didn’t go out of your way to evade him, but you certainly didn’t try to see him.

It wasn’t until a week and a half later that you had your first interaction with Jaemin again.

“Hey Y/N.” He smiled at you, not as big as usual, but a smile nonetheless.

“Jaemin? So we’re talking now?” You couldn’t help but be snarky, something that you instantly regretted at the sight of his fallen face. “Wait, sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

When you sighed, you noticed that familiar look on his face, guilt.

But you chose to ignore it and move on, “What’s up?” 

You gripped the strap of your bag, grounding yourself for the moment.

“Nothing. I just wanted to say hi.” But the smile was fading fast.

He continued down the stairs, taking a left at the bottom.

“Jaemin?” He turned to face you. “Are you busy?”

His eyes widened and he grinned whilst shaking his head. You rushed down the stairs finding yourself less than a foot from him. “I was going to the park to study. Do you maybe wanna hang out?”

“Where were you?” Chenle asked with watchful eyes as Jaemin entered the apartment.

“At the park.” It was nonchalant, but Chenle noticed his shifty eyes.

“Why?”

Jaemin frowned, still avoiding eye contact. “Can I not just go to the park?”

Chenle narrowed his eyes, but ignored the statement as Renjun entered the room. Almost immediately there was a heavy tension over the room. 

Renjun ignored his presence and Chenle scoffed, promptly leaving the room. 

“What was that?” Renjun asked, filling up a cup of water.

Jaemin hesitated to respond, but knowing Renjun he figured he would find out soon enough.

“I went to the park… with Y/N today.” He whispered the last part, glancing at Renjun’s reaction. At this the latter raised his eyebrows, interested at the confession.

“I’m surprised there wasn’t more yelling.” He muttered, turning to face a very guilty looking Jaemin.

“I didn’t exactly tell him I went with her, he was just suspicious.” Jaemin bit his lip nervously, and eventually broke down, “I just wanted to talk with her. Is it wrong if we hang out? She’s a good person… I like her.”

Renjun’s eyes widened.

“Not like that. I just like her as a person, she’s easy to talk to.” Jaemin backtracked, understanding what the look in his eyes meant.

Renjun nodded, looking slightly relieved for a moment before covering it up with a stony look. He drained his glass quickly before turning to leave.

Just as he was about to exit the room he paused, “I don’t see what’s so heinous about hanging out with your neighbor. Honestly, they didn’t even date.”

After this Jaemin felt slightly better about his ‘betrayal’. Just because his roommates couldn’t be civil with you, didn’t mean that he couldn’t. After all no one really knew the whole story, right?

“Why do you look like that?” 

Jaemin looked up from his spot in the middle of the kitchen to find Jeno with his arms hugging his laptop.

“Huh?”

“You look like you’re out of it… Did something happen?” Jaemin could trust and confide in Jeno with many things, this was one of them.

Jeno sat at the table, softly laying his computer on the surface. Jeno wasn’t really one to freely show his emotions, even with his best friends, but here he began to look nervous. He bit his lip, glancing at Jaemin, wanting to reassure him, but not giving him false assurance. 

“I’m a horrible friend aren’t I?” Jaemin mumbled, digging his palms into his face. 

“No.” Jeno breathed out, “I just wouldn’t let Jisung find out. Or Chenle for that matter.”

Jaemin looked up, wincing at Jeno’s words. “So you don’t think it was so wrong of me?”

“I’m not saying it’s wrong, but it’s not right either.” Jeno sighed, watching his friend’s face fall. “Jisung and Y/N are in a weird situation. Honestly I’d rather just stay out of it, I don’t need to be picking sides.”

Jeno stood up suddenly, retrieving his laptop and leaving the room as abruptly as he came in. There was no sign of why Jeno even entered in the first place. 

This didn’t make Jaemin feel any better. But he heeded Jeno’s words, he didn’t want to choose sides. But he really liked you, why can’t he just enjoy your company?

“Jaemin? Y/N?” Renjun blinked twice at the scene, glancing between the two of you.

He wasn’t going to lie, there was a part of him that knew he could run into you both here. Maybe subconsciously he wanted to find you.

“Renjun.” You breathed out, a worried look casting over your face. “It’s not what it looks like really.”

The last thing you wanted was Jaemin to get in trouble. 

Renjun just nodded, cutting you off. “I know.” His lips formed a tight line, “Mind if I join you?”

Both Jaemin and yourself were shocked, but immediately gesturing for him to join you. He flopped onto the blanket exhaustedly, closing his eyes and just feeling the breeze.

After a moment of silence he reopened his eyes, sighing deeply, “I’m so tired of being in that apartment. I just feel so frustrated and closed in there, like I can’t breathe.”

You looked at your lap, feeling guilty for that. If it weren’t for you, neither Jaemin or Renjun would be here right now. Neither of them would be feeling this rivet between their friends.

You mumbled out a faint apology.

There was a sigh from his direction. “I wasn’t digging for an apology. I was just venting. Honestly, I don’t even blame you.”

Glancing up at him, you noticed he had his eyes clenched shut, head tilted towards the sky.

“I’m still sorry though.” You rushed your next words to stop his protests. “Let’s be real, if it weren’t for me, this all never would’ve happened between you guys. This is exactly why I didn’t want to start anything again.”

Jaemin frowned, shaking his head. “But you couldn’t have known, what if something really great came out of it? What if something really great can still come out of it?”

Renjun glanced at your distraught expression, he didn’t mean to upset you with his rant. 

“But it’s not going to. I mean,” You paused, hesitating to say the next words, “I don’t know if you guys know the whole story between us, but it feels the exact same as when we were texting before. I just get the feeling that he doesn’t actually like me like that, maybe he just likes the thought of it.” 

You trailed off at the sight of their faces. 

“Are you kidding me? That boy, and he’s going to kill me for saying this, but he’s been in love with you for the past two years. Like, no joke, there was a time when he had nothing to talk about, except for you. Trust me when I say he likes you.”

Frustration boiled up inside of you, “Then why doesn’t he try? I tried so hard to talk to him and explain what he saw, but he just avoids me. It’s the same as before, if he doesn’t think I’m worth at least that much, then why should I put in all that effort?” 

You were starting to get worked up with Renjun interrupted. “Because that’s Jisung. I hate to say it, but that’s the way he’s wired. He’s really shy, and cautious when it comes to this sort of stuff. I don’t want to use the word insecure, but he really doesn’t think he’s good enough sometimes. I think that when he even comes across the thought or the chance that he’s not good enough for you, he just shuts you out, you know? It’s like a defense mechanism. It’s not that he doesn’t want to try, just that he’s afraid.”

Jaemin nodded softly in agreement. At this point you were beginning to see why they were all such good friends. Even at a time like this they were still trying to help him, and never once did they put him down. 

That made you feel even worse. 

You sighed, leaning back on your forearms and staring up at the clouds, head swirling with new thoughts.

“Oh, so you can tell me to my face that you weren’t just with Y/N? What kind of friend are you?” Chenle raised his voice, glaring at the two of them.

Jisung stared at the wall beside them, silently brooding over the situation.

Haechan stood up from his seat on the couch and turned, shocked at the sight before him. Mark was wide-eyed staring over the back of the couch. 

“What are you-”

“Can you even call yourself a friend?” The words were spat out, making everyone in the room flinch, including Jisung.

Jisung closed his eyes, blocking out the situation. He never wanted things to go this far. 

“It’s not-”

“How are you even able to be in the same room and not feel guilty? Huh?!” At this point Chenle was losing control.

Haechan moved to Chenle’s side, tugging at his arm to make him stop. But Chenle only threw his hand off him in anger. 

“Taking sides with that-”

“Stop it.” 

With those two words it seemed like the world stopped with it. 

“What?” Chenle all but whispered out. He was not alone in the confusion.

“Stop it.” Jisung finally took a look around the room, frowning at what he saw in front of him. “This is ridiculous, fighting over this. I don’t care if you hang out with her or not.”

“But-”

“This whole thing was blown way out of proportion. I was stupid and immature to not even talk to her. Honestly I’m more mad at myself than at her.” To say that everyone was shocked was an understatement. 

“I’m so sick of this. This is why I didn’t want to do this in the first place.” He sighed standing up. “I’m done being mad without an explanation.”

Jisung treaded heavily towards his room, making up his mind that this was going to be the last time they fought over you. Tomorrow he would clear things up.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Just a minute!” You rubbed your eyes blearily, glancing at your phone. 7 am, on a Saturday?

You flattened your hair the best you could, throwing on a sweatshirt hastily as you opened the door. 

You sucked your breath, heart dropping at the sight of Jisung in front of you.

“Jisung?” Suddenly you felt very bare, standing in front of him with a sweatshirt and your pajamas. But you pushed away the embarrassment, caving to the pent up anger and humiliation that you still felt. 

You frowned at him, “What do you want?”

He visibly winced at the tone, biting his lip anxiously. “Could- can we talk?”

But to be honest, you didn’t really want to talk with him at the moment. “Now’s not a good time.”

To be fair you did have an appointment soon. Not ridiculously soon that you couldn’t manage to squeeze in a talk, but you weren’t going to try very hard.

“Oh.” He ruffled his hair nervously. “Um… when do you have time?” He asked, this time not willing to let go so easily.

For a moment you thought about telling him that you simply didn’t want to face him, that you wouldn’t ever have time for him. But even you knew that was far too cruel. And to be honest, a talk was what you wanted in the first place. 

“Lunch?” You mumbled out, “I can do noon.”

He was quick to agree, and soon enough you were left alone in your apartment again. Empty and quiet on a Saturday morning, as it should be, but for some reason you felt uneasy.

It seemed that Jisung was keeping a very keen eye out for you, because the moment you walked through the door, his eyes locked with yours. 

He waved you over as enthusiastically as he could, which wasn’t very much. He could feel the heavy air already as you averted your eyes.

You felt a twinge of flutters in your stomach, but you pushed them down. This was the first time, since you had gone to the bookstore, that you had spent time together, just the two of you.

It felt like a date, but it was far from it.

Jisung cleared his throat awkwardly, “I heard the pasta is really good here.”

You raised your eyebrows at the suggestion, choosing to be as civil as you could. You weren’t here to cause another fight, or whatever happened between the two of you, you were here to reconcile.

“Really, then I’ll try the Carbonara.” A small smile was tacked on at the end of your sentence as you noticed Jisung eyeing you nervously.

He smiled back.

Then he set the menu down. 

He sighed deeply before continuing, “First off, I really want to apologize for the way I treated you. I was avoiding you and acting like a jerk, really. I just… when we saw you at the diner, I was just slammed with a bunch of emotions and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I know that’s a shitty excuse, but I just couldn’t handle it, and then I think a part of me was embarrassed by the way that I acted, so I avoided you more. But then things blew up. Everything fell apart with my friends, then they started fighting and picking sides, and I realized that none of this was worth it. I was mad and upset for no reason.”

He stopped, weary of your expression before continuing. “I don’t know if I even deserve an explanation, or a second chance.”

Jisung must have lost confidence, as he wavered at the end of his sentence.

You plucked up the courage that you had, nodding in agreement.

“I think you deserve an explanation.” You sighed, thinking back to the moment they saw you. “Lucas... we had set up a date before you had even asked me, and I thought it would be wrong to ditch him, especially without explanation. When you walked in, I had actually just told him… about you.”

Your throat suddenly felt dry and you reached for your glass. “It didn’t feel right to see both of you at the same time, whether I liked you both or not. I’m going to be honest with you, Lucas is a great guy, I would be extremely happy with someone like him, but...But he doesn’t make me feel the way you make me feel.”

You glanced up through your eyelashes, weary of his expression, quickly moving on after your confession.

“And you’re right, I really think that things blew way out of proportion, that all could’ve been solved with a conversation, it didn’t need to wait this long.”

He nodded, admitting to his fault. But his mind kept wandering back to what you had said.

The way he made you feel?

He felt a sudden rush of giddiness, before he managed to hide it.

By the time the food had arrived you were well into your conversation, both of you had agreed to move past this. It wasn’t going to be easy to forget, and maybe that was the best way to move forward with your relationship.

You caught up with each other, Jisung telling stories of the stupid things that he and his friends do, mostly Haechan. The most recent of his escapades having to do with a deck of cards and a street lamp on a particularly cold night. 

Jisung reveled at the sound of your laughter, cursing himself for waiting this long to talk to you. Why had he been so afraid? What had stopped him before?

“So how exactly do I make you feel?” He asked teasingly, whilst wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed nervously at him, realizing that maybe it was a mistake to let him get so comfortable with you. 

Or maybe it meant the start of something great.

Part 1

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Arranged Marriage Part 1

For the Anon who requested : Hey! Can I request something where Draco's parents arrange a marriage for him, and at first he's pissed, but then he meets her and she's pretty and his type and he winds up really enjoying her? Thank you so much!!

Part 2, Part 3

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Draco slammed the door to his bedroom, he was seething. He’d just gotten home from Hogwarts for Christmas holiday when he was bombarded by his mother, who was in the middle of planning their Christmas ball. However, she had other news as well. He was, against his wishes, engaged. He was absolutely livid with his parents, he hadn’t even been consulted. Not to mention the fact that he was only in his sixth year. He was sixteen years old for Merlin’s sake! And on top of it all, he still had his duties to carry out this year, he didn’t need more stress. And that’s all girls were; stress. 

Apparently he would be meeting her, and they’d be announcing their engagement at the ball this year, he kicked his desk chair out of frustration and it skidded across the room, toppling over.

“Fuck me,” He muttered to himself, thinking about the few details his mother had given him. Her name was Y/N L/N, a fellow 6th year at Hogwarts in Ravenclaw. Her father worked for the Dark Lord as well, along with his own parents. Pure-blooded and pretty according to his mother. Any girl his mother thought was pretty was probably a troll. He cursed again and tossed himself onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He tried to rack his brain, thinking of her name, and going through the 6th year Ravenclaw girls he could remember, seeing if he could match a face to the name. 

“Y/N,” He spoke and the name sounded foreign on his lips. He could vaguely remember a girl in his potions class that went by that name with Y/Color/Hair. She wasn’t a troll but she wasn’t anything special either. A quiet bird who mostly kept to herself and sat towards the front of the classroom, typical Ravenclaw he scoffed to himself. This was ridiculous. Marriage! What next? Babies?! He hadn’t even graduated yet! 

He wound up falling asleep on his bed, above the covers and shoes still on. His nap was plagued with visions of frilly white dresses and senseless dancing. When he woke up it was dark, and his family’s house elf had left him a dinner plate on his nightstand, but he wasn’t hungry. How could he eat at a time like this? 

The week passed by agonizingly slow, and he spent most of his time being forced to help get the manor ready for their ball. His mother took him to Diagon Alley to purchase new dress robes. They were nice, black with all black accents. He looked at himself in his bedroom mirror, listening to the music and chatter from below. He was supposed to be downstairs an hour ago but he couldn’t bring himself to leave his room. He looked handsome, he knew, his pale skin and white hair popping elegantly with the all black ensemble.  Yet he didn’t want to go downstairs where he knew his new fiance was waiting for him. 

His house elf popped into his room and he looked away from the mirror with a glare.

“Missus said it’s time Mister Malfoy made his way downstairs. Guests are waiting.” Draco turned on his heel and walked towards the door taking a deep breath. He wasn’t nervous, Draco Malfoy did not get nervous. He was pissed and put out, still thinking this entire thing was ridiculous. He walked down the grand staircase, seeing his mother at the base, glaring at him.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, mother.” She nodded her head in response and attempted to fix his collar but he jerked away from her, doing it himself. Suddenly the french doors leading from the ballroom to the foyer swung open and a girl stormed through like a winter storm. She was wearing a brilliant emerald green dress that hugged her curves and went down to the floor, there was some light beading on the bodice but nothing over the top. Her Y/C/H was up in a fancy array of braids and her Y/C/Eyes were red and slightly swollen. 

“I’m not getting MARRIED! Are you daft!” She cried, the man following her looked just like her, same eyes, same hair, much different demeanor. 

“Watch your tongue!” He bit out, grabbing her wrist and yanking her towards him with a snarl, “Is that any way to talk to your father?” He looked over at Narcissa and Draco and smirked slightly down at his daughter, “Is that any way to speak in front of your future husband?” Her head snapped around to look where he was looking and she openly glared at him. She was pretty, Y/height, and Draco found himself smirking at the display. 

“My sincerest apologies,” She gritted out between clenched teeth, “Malfoy,” 

“Call me Draco,” He responded easily. Her father released her and she gripped her wrist with her other hand, holding it to her chest. She stood awkwardly between her father and the two present Malfoys. Narcissa cleared her throat and smiled, greeting the man by his first name. 

“Why don’t we rejoin the party, I’d love to speak with your wife about wedding arrangements, and Lucius has some business to discuss with you.” He knew his mother wanted to let them be alone, and while he didn’t particularly want to marry the girl, maybe he could score a sneaky snog out of this. The man nodded curtly and took Narcissa’s arm as they went back through the doors, shutting them behind them. The girl continued to just stand there, glaring in Draco’s general direction. 

“Did he just tell you?” He asked, trying to start a conversation. You winced slightly and nodded your head.

“Yes. He didn't think I’d come if I knew. He was right.” Draco laughed and you mustered up a half smile. 

“My mother told me when I got home for Christmas.” 

“Good for you.” you muttered, looking down. When you looked back up again your face was blank, “I don't want to marry you.” You stated bluntly. He sized you up, mildly surprised by your brashness. 

“Listen princess, I don’t exactly want to marry you either, but your father seems pretty deadset.” 

“And your parents aren’t?” You questioned, raising a delicate eyebrow at him, arms crossing over your chest. He shrugged. 

“They are, I assume. Or they wouldn’t be going through all this trouble. We haven’t really talked about it, I’ve just been told the gist. We-” He gestured between the two of you, “Are to be married, don’t know when, don’t know why.” 

“Probably at Voldemort’s request.” You replied and he flinched slightly. 

“Don’t say his name.” You smirked. 

“Why? Afraid he might come swooping in at any moment?” Draco didn’t want to comment on the amount of times the dark lord had been in his house, and he definitely didn’t want to admit that yes, that was his first thought. 

“Call him by his title, the dark lord.” 

“Are you a death eater?” You asked, curiously. He shook his head no, unconsciously glancing down at his arm where his soon to be mark would reside. 

“Not yet.” You nodded then shook your head. 

���Better you than I, I’d never be.” You spat the words out. Merlin, who did his parents want him to marry?

“Well you’ll be married to one.” You shrugged.

“Or maybe I’ll just run away.” You mused aloud, glancing around the foyer, eyes lingering on the door. He looked towards the large front door with you and laughed. 

“Run away? With what money? Where would you even go?” 

“Paris.” You answered easily, “I’ll make money. I’d be fine.” 

“They’d hunt you down, Y/N,” He spoke your name for the first time to you and it felt odd coming from his lips, but not bad. You simply shrugged again. 

“It would be worth it,” You whispered. They stood in silence for a few more moments. He wanted to say something but he had no idea what he wanted to say. Again, the french doors opened and Lucius stood in the doorway. 

“Draco. Come.” He ordered and he felt his feet moving towards his father on their own accord. He stopped next to you, glancing down. “Bring her. This ball is for you. I will not have you two insulting your mother by spending the entirety of it in the corridor. You will dance, eat, and socialize. That’s an order.”

“Yes father.” And with a swish of his cloak the man was gone again, back into the bustling crowd of pure-blooded wizards and their children. Draco offered his arm to you and you took it with a small sigh. 

“He’s charming.” He shushed you, not wanting his father to overhear you. Together you entered the ballroom, Draco leading you towards the bar area. 

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked and you nodded with a soft hum, “What do you want,” 

“I’ll have a Witch’s Heart.” You spoke, keeping your arm linked with his but making sure there was as much distance between your bodies as you could manage. Did you dislike him that much? He ordered your cocktail and a Firewhiskey on the rocks for himself, thanking the bartender when he handed the drinks over. Draco led you over to a table of familiar faces and pulled your chair out for you before sitting beside you, both hands wrapped around his glass. 

“Alright, Malfoy?” Blaise Zabini greeted, clasping the man on the back raising his glass towards him and then you, it was obvious he had already had a few. “Congratulations to the happy couple.” Draco laughed, knocking his glass against the other boy’s.

“Thank you, thank you.” He responded, placing his arm loosely around the back of your chair, you leaned away from him slightly and he frowned, shrugging. Pansy Parkinson glared at you openly and venomously from across the table.

“Y/N, right?” She asked, you nodded your head. 

“Hello Pansy.” Her glare deepened. She said nothing more to you, crossing her arms over her dress. It was a similar color to yours, Draco noted, not surprised Pansy had opted for a Slytherin green dress. As much as he was proud of his house, sometimes she had too much house pride. It did surprise him however, that you were wearing the color. He had a feeling your parents had something to do with it. Draco and Blaise talked, Pansy occasionally saything something snippy here and there. 

“Draco,” She batted her eyelashes at him from across the table, leaning over so her cleavage popped. Slag, you thought to yourself. 

“Yes?”

“Care to dance?” Draco looked at you, and you gave a small shrug. You didn’t care what he did. He wasn’t your husband, and would never be if you got your way, which you were beginning to doubt you would. 

“No.” He answered simply. Her face fell and you couldn’t help but smirk, she turned her eyes to you and glared darkly. 

“Don’t think you’ve got him, Y/N.” She spat.

“Pardon?” You asked bored. 

“He’ll never love you, hell, he’ll never even like you.” She hissed and Draco frowned, about to step in when you laughed loudly. 

“Doesn’t matter if he does or doesn’t, love. I’m marrying him, not you.” Pansy was livid. She stood up, hand twitching.

“Hag!” She cried. 

“Oh Pans,” You replied, falsely sweet, “Don’t talk down on yourself like that, you’re barely even a hag.” Draco thought she might punch you, Blaise laughed, slapping a hand against Draco’s back. 

“Feisty! I love it, you’re lucky mate, you should meet the boring bird my parents want me to marry.” Blaise glanced past Draco and sent you a wink, “Unless you care to switch.” 

“I’m alright.” Draco smiled slightly, “Go cool down Parkinson.” Pansy was bright red with anger, she looked at Draco, then to you, then to Draco again, her face softening. She turned with a huff and stalked off to go Merlin knows where. 

“She’s a delight,” You commented. Blaise laughed again, standing up.

“Can I get you lot another round?” 

“Sure,” You smiled, handing him your glass, Draco followed suit. Once they were alone again Draco turned to you, smiling slightly. 

“Sorry about her,” You shrugged and shook your head.

“It’s alright, I’ve dealt with worse, I deal with my mother daily.” 

“You don’t get on with your parents?” He questioned and she raised her eyebrows.

“Do you?” 

“Enough.” 

“I don’t, not much. Probably why they’re trying to shove me off on your family.” He chuckled and nodded, arm still around the back of your chair. He was quiet for a moment, making eye contact with someone from across the room. You followed his gaze and saw his father glaring at the two of you, ah, yes. Your new darling father-in-law. Draco withdrew his arm and offered you his hand. 

“Care to dance?” He asked, watching as you sighed and frowned before nodding your head. 

“Alright, but I have two left feet as a warning.” He chuckled again and nodded his head.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.” You felt something in your stomach flutter when he looked at you like that and spoke so tenderly, and Draco honestly couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth. He watched as you gathered your dress and took his hand allowing him to lead you out to the dance floor. He placed a hand on your waist and took your hand in his other one, and you snaked your free arm around his neck, keeping a comfortable distance. You began to sway to the music, Draco leading you in the traditional dance the rest of the crowd was partaking in. 

“How’s your school year going?” He asked suddenly, needing to break the silence. 

“Alright I suppose. Can’t believe they’ve got us preparing for NEWTs already.” Draco nodded with a small laugh. 

“Don’t worry too much about it, it’s not like it matters.”

“It’s my future,” You replied confused. Draco nodded his head towards the large grand room around them.

“This is your future. You won’t have to work a day in your pretty little life.” 

“And if I want to?” You asked him and he faltered slightly. Wasn’t it every woman's dream to be rich enough to sit on her arse all day? 

“What would you do?” He asked, genuinely curious as to what could be better.

“I want to be a healer,” You admitted, stepping on his foot, “Sorry, told you, can’t dance.” He adjusted your position and pulled you slightly closer so he could better lead you in the dance, these shoes were expensive. 

“Noble.” He commented. You shrugged. 

“I’m good at it, and I like it.” You stated simply and he didn’t press the topic. If you wanted to be a healer, he wasn’t going to argue. At least until you had children. Children!? He shook the thought from his head, Merlin, he didn’t even want to meet you a few hours ago and now he was entertaining the thought of having children with you? He must be mad. Or ill. Mad and ill. The song came to an end and he released you, taking your hand again. 

“Shall we find our parents? I’m sure they’d like to see us getting along.” He decided. 

“Are we?” You asked him, “Getting along?” 

“I’d think so, you haven’t hexed me yet.” You chuckled and he found he liked the sound of your laugh. 

“The night is young.” He held your hand as you walked towards your parents who were chatting with several other wizards. You passed Pansy as you went and you couldn’t help but to throw her a smug look, knowing she had been watching you two dance. You might not be thrilled to be marrying the bloke, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome, and you seemed to be getting along, at least for now. And if you could rub it into the snotty little girls face, you would. For fun. She glared in return and you chuckled, causing Draco to look at you, then to the direction of Pansy, smirking himself and tugging you slightly closer to him.

“Jealous?” He asked and you snorted.

“You wish,” As you got closer to your parents you took a deep steadying breath, the hand in Draco’s becoming clammy. He squeezed the hand, noticing your sudden nervousness. Together you would face your parents, he decided, he would make sure you were safe. Afterall, that’s what a husband is for.