#but instead! i can knit all day! and play video games when my hands start to hurt!
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Wednesday Again. Sparkling on.
Other than my doily interruption, I've mainly been working on these two huge projects. Every time I pick them up I'm reminded of my dad's favourite dadism "How do you eat a cake? One bite at a time" I usually do more of a "eat the entire cake until you can't anymore (burnout) and then never touch it again" so I'm very proud of myself for just nibbling away at both these projects.
Blanket 10 is Nearly finished at this point, I have attached the second to last row of squares and just gotta finish out rows 10 and 11 and do the border. My crochet savvy friend has recommended a shell border which will be cute, and I've found a yt tutorial for one I like, I just gotta practice it a bit.
Shawl 14 (Pattern | Yarn) is also very slow going but mostly out of not picking it up. In the last two months I've knit something like 10 rows total, with probably 8 of those in the past three days. My self imposed deadline is April and I'm about 60% through the total stitch count, so I need to actually work on this. I foresee his stitching getting a bit faster once I'm out of the half twisted rib/window pane section, it's a very cute effect but stopping every repeat to slip 5 times for one decrease is very slow.
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geeoharee · 1 year ago
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tagged by @cackled0g
1.) Are you named after anyone? An actress, and my grandfather, in that order. I don't have any feelings either way about the actress, but I loved my grandfather very much, so that's all right.
2.) When was the last time you cried? Oh god I cry most days. It's just how I'm put together. Some autistics meltdown and smash stuff, some scream and shout, I start weeping. My dad used to say I was filled up with tears more than most people, so that they were very near to overflowing.
3.) Do you have kids? Nooooo. I used to say "No, I'm gay" but I have now been sufficiently lectured by gay people who have kids. So: no, AND, I'm gay.
4.) Do you use sarcasm a lot? I suppose I do, yes. I'm just trying to match the energy in the room, usually. Often I get it wrong. I think I'm funny, people often laugh at the wrong bits though.
5.) What sports do you play/have played? I am not a sporting type. I struggle with my hand-eye coordination and my balance. But when I was a little girl I took riding lessons, I'd love to do that again. Gotta get back in shape first. (It's not fair on the horse otherwise, you know.)
6.) What’s the first thing you notice about people? Errrrr... I'm meant to notice things?
7.) What’s your eye color? Hazel, I suppose. They were blue when I was born, they're sort of mostly brown now.
8.) Scary movies or happy endings? Both! I like stories! I like satisfying stories: that can mean everyone gets eaten by the zombies, or the couple ride off into the sunset, either's great if it's done well.
9.) Any special talents? I won a prize at school for Electronics. I was very neat with the soldering iron, and circuit design is just prop logic. I adore prop logic, it turns out.
10.) Where were you born? Hill country. At regular intervals I have to go for a walk and look at some grass and dry stone walls and sheep. It resets me and gets my shoulders down from around my ears.
11.) What are your hobbies? I'm currently in a terrible cycle of getting addicted to one video game at a time. I finished Autonauts, and now I'm playing Red Dead Redemption 2. When I can drag myself away from my desk I knit (quite well) and play piano (badly). Oh, and go for walks.
12.) Do you have any pets? Sadly at the moment I live in a terrible beige flat owned by a terrible beige letting company, so no. We always had dogs growing up. I'd like a dog.
13.) How tall are you? 5'10" and mostly legs. I have to buy Long in men's trousers and in most shops I can't buy women's at all.
14.) Favorite subject in school? Maths. Like, by quite a large margin. I am excessively jealous of Mycroft Holmes who has found a way to sit in a room and do sums for the rest of his natural life. They spoiled it after the Victorian era by inventing computers, so now I have to program bloody computers instead. This is very cruel to rocks.
15.) Dream job? Well, if you'd asked me when I was 12, I'd have said programming computers. This is unfortunately what happens when you get what you want. But if I wasn't so concerned about saving for retirement, I'd be volunteering for the local Footpaths Society, harassing farmers for putting up barbed wire where they shouldn't.
Tagging: @skyriderwednesday @s-l-martin @jesidres (only if you like tag games)
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dottielovegood · 3 years ago
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ASMR - Chapter 6
Elriel fanfiction
About this fic:
Azriel can’t sleep Elain has an ASMR channel Match made in heaven (or you know, on youtube..)
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You can find chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here, chapter 3 here, chapter 4 here and chapter 5 here.
Read this fic on AO3
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When Friday was just around the corner, Azriel was a nervous mess.
He had cleaned his apartment twice, which he understood was a weird thing to do since she wasn’t even coming to his house. He had tried on every item of clothing in his wardrobe. He had googled ‘conversation topics first date’ and written a few down on his phone. He had even gotten a haircut.
He hadn’t been able to sleep at all that week. It felt weird to look at her videos when he had met her and talked to her. It felt like an invasion of privacy, even though it wasn’t. The videos were on the internet for everyone to see, yet Azriel couldn’t bring himself to watch her videos. So he didn’t sleep.
The day before the date, Azriel had decided to get her flowers. But when he stood in a flower shop and the person behind the register asked what kind of flowers he wanted, he just walked out of there. He had no idea what kind of flowers to give to a florist. He knew that certain flowers had certain meanings, and even though he had no idea what any flower meant, a florist probably knew. What if he bought flowers that said ‘I hate you’ or ‘happy funeral’?
Azriel couldn’t risk it, so he bought some chocolate instead. All women like chocolate, right?
But when he came home, his mind did that thing it always did when he was sleep-deprived: it questioned his every decision. What if Elain is lactose intolerant? What if she’s vegan? What if she is the only person on planet earth who hates chocolate? What if the different flavors of chocolate have meaning, just like flowers? Maybe you bought some sort of ‘happy funeral-chocolate’?
In an attempt to get these intrusive thoughts out of his mind, he went to the gym. He worked out for two hours, which was a bit excessive. The gym played shitty gym-music and every single person made weird sounds. It was the perfect distraction. For now.
Azriel hoped that his workout would help with his insomnia, too. He hoped that if he lifted enough weights and ran a few more miles than usual, perhaps he would be able to sleep. It had never worked before, but, as his mother used to say; “hope is the last thing that leaves you.”
However, after tossing and turning for three hours, he could safely say that the workout had done nothing to help him sleep. He couldn’t understand how a person could be so fucking tired, but still unable to sleep. He was almost going a bit crazy at this point. For the past weeks, Azriel had gotten used to falling asleep to Flower Girl ASMR’s videos. He had gotten used to her sweet voice rocking him to sleep. The insomnia was almost worse now that he knew how good it felt to have a decent night’s sleep.
Azriel looked at his phone. It was almost 02.30 in the morning. Fuck, he muttered to himself. He really didn’t want to be a tired mess on the date tomorrow. He had to put his best foot forward, and he knew he couldn’t do that if he hadn’t slept well for almost a week.
Maybe he should just watch one of her videos? She would obviously never know.
After debating with himself for a few minutes, he decided that Elain deserved to meet a well-rested Azriel, so he opened the YouTube app and found her latest video.
Azriel held his breath as her face filled his screen. God, she was lovely. Her smile could light up the darkest of nights, and her sweet voice was like a calming balm for his soul.
He put the phone in his chest and just listened. Slowly and gently, her whispers lulled him to sleep.
Azriel woke up relaxed, but nervous. He only had a half-day at work because Rhys had decided to send everyone home early today to celebrate that Feyre was pregnant. He was taking her on a spa weekend. She was only a few weeks pregnant, but Azriel knew that she would be the most pampered woman in the world during this pregnancy. This weekend was just the beginning. If she suddenly got a craving for pickle smoothies with whipped cream and sprinkles, Rhys would 100% make her one every day. And that is saying something since this man almost threw up every time someone opened a pickle jar in his vicinity.
“Any cool plans tonight, Az?” Cassian asked as he started to pack up his belongings.
Azriel wanted to tell him about the date. He wanted to share the nervousness with someone - anyone. But he couldn’t. Cass knew who she was. Nesta had known her since college. If this didn’t go well, Azriel would never hear the end of it. So he lied.
“No, nothing special. You?”
“I was going to take Nesta out for a date to celebrate that it has been four years since she agreed to go on a date with me…”
Azriel laughed. “After you had panted after her for like two years you mean?”
“Exactly!” He smiled. Cassian sure seemed like a big brute the first time you met him, but he was actually a soft teddy bear. He was never ashamed when people mentioned that he had been trying to win Nesta over for years before she agreed to date him. He just felt like he had won a prize. It was very sweet.
“However,” he continued. “She has to work late. Apparently, one of her authors had plagiarized fanfiction, which Nesta found out about like a week before the book went to print. So obviously, Nesta is livid and I do not want to be close to her until this is resolved.”
Nesta owned a publishing company that focused on publishing romance novels, which didn’t surprise anyone. Nesta had always loved romance books. In her words; the smuttier, the better. Azriel always found them a bit cringy. It was like reading porn. But truth be told, he had read a few books that Nesta had recommended, and they had taught him a thing or two.
“What the hell is fanfiction?” he asked Cassian.
Cassian shrugged. “I’m not completely sure, but apparently this author had just copied something from the internet and changed the names of the characters and sent it in as a manuscript.”
“Weird. I understand that Nesta is pissed.”
“Yeah. So, you wanna do something? Take out and a game?”
“No, I can’t,” Azriel lied.
“You just said that you didn’t have any plans.”
Fuck.
“Yeah, well. I said that I didn’t have any special plans, not that I didn’t have any plans.”
Implying that his date with Elain was “not special” made him feel like shit.
Cassian eyed him suspiciously. “You’re going on a date.”
“What? no.”
Cassian laughed and slapped Azriel’s back. “Yes, you are. You have that date-look all over your face.”
“What the hell is a date-look?” he asked, but Cassian didn’t answer.
“Who are you going out with? Do I know her? Is she hot?”
Azriel held up a hand to stop the onslaught of questions. “You don’t know her,” he lied.
Cassian grinned. “So, you are going on a date?”
“You just said that I had a date-face?”
“Yeah, that was a lucky guess. So, what’s her name?”
“None of your business, Cass.”
“Wow, what a beautiful name,” Cassian teased. “But I get it. You like being secretive. Can you at least tell me how you met?”
“The internet.”
Cassian let out a fake gasp. “Stop the presses and hold your horses. Azriel downloaded a dating app? Can pigs fly now, too?” He made a point of looking out the window.
“Ha-ha, very funny.” Azriel slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking towards the elevator. Cassian was just behind him.
“So, can I see a photo?”
“No.”
“What if you’re getting catfished?”
“I’m not.”
“Well, you can never be sure. One time, this girl, or actually, it was an old man…”
“Cass, please. Just let it go,” Azriel interrupted. “There’s a reason why I never tell you guys when I go on dates.”
“Dates? You’ve been going on multiple dates without telling me? I’m wounded, Azriel.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and stepped into the elevator. When the elevator reached the ground floor, Azriel got out. Cassian had his car in the underground parking garage. Just before the doors closed, Cassian called out for Azriel. “You might need this.” He threw something at Azriel, and Azriel didn’t see what it was until he caught it.
It was a condom.
With a grin, Cassian disappeared behind the big, metal elevator doors.
Azriel shook his head and looked down at the small foil packet in his hand. Cassian really was the worst.
A few hours later, Azriel was almost ready to leave for the date. He was wearing black trousers and a dark grey knitted sweater. And blue socks. Cobalt blue, to be exact. Azriel had a thing about colorful socks. He mostly dressed in black, but he didn’t own a single pair of black socks. These blue socks were his favorites, though. He loved cobalt blue.
Azriel was checking the route to the bar when an incoming phone call made his phone vibrate (he had put his phone on mute and deleted Barbie Girl from his phone, thank god!).
It was Elain calling.
Azriel felt his heart drop. Nobody called just before a date unless they wanted to cancel.
With a sigh, he answered the phone. He tried to sound cheery. “Hello, Elain.”
“Azriel! I’m so happy you picked up.” She sounded out of breath.
“Anything wrong?” Azriel asked.
“Well. Kind of… have you left your apartment yet?”
“No, not yet. Why?”
There was a short pause, and Azriel could have sworn that he heard her swear under her breath.
“Well, I won’t be able to make it. I’m so sorry. And I’m so sorry for calling this late. I was really looking forward to our date, I promise.” She really did sound apologetic.
“Has anything happened?” Azriel asked, suddenly a bit worried.
“No… Or actually, yes. I fell when I got out of the shower earlier. I thought that I just needed to rest, but I can’t walk,” she let out a pained laugh. “I’m such a clutz.”
Azriel hated that she was trying to make light of the situation. He hated that she was hurt. “Elain. If you can’t walk, you should probably go to the ER,” Azriel said.
“Oh, no. I called my neighbor. Madja. She’s a doctor. She said that I had just sprained my ankle.”
“Okay…” Azriel didn’t know what else to say.
“Can we reschedule?” Elain asked. “I really wanted to see you tonight.”
Azriel was used to being rejected. He was used to not trusting new people. But somehow, he trusted Elain when she said that she wanted to see him.
“Of course we can reschedule. I was really looking forward to meeting you too.”
“Really?” He could hear the smile in her voice. It made him smile.
“Yes. I’m av…”
Azriel was interrupted by a hiss from Elain.
“Are you okay?” he asked, ready to steal a car, drive over her to her place, and get her to the hospital. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t know her address.
“Mhm, I’m fine. I just.. moved.”
“Elain. Do you have a friend or family member coming over to help you?”
There was a stretch of silence. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need help.” Her tone was too positive and cheery. Azriel didn’t believe her one bit.
“Have you had dinner?”
“I was planning on making some instant ramen.”
Azriel frowned. “And how are you going to do that when you can barely move? Also, that’s not good enough for dinner.”
She didn’t answer for a while. “I’m fine. I promise.” He could hear her voice break on the last syllable. She was not fine.
“Elain. Please, will you let me get you some food? I don’t have to come in if you don’t want me to. Just, let me get you something to eat.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I want to. If you’re willing to give me your address, I’ll be there in just a bit.”
She hesitated. “You probably have something better to do.”
“I don’t. Now please, let me get you some food.”
He didn’t just want to get her some food. He wanted to make sure that she was alright. He didn’t want her to sit all alone in her apartment when she couldn’t walk.
He wanted to take care of her.
After a small eternity, he could hear her whisper “Okay.”
45 minutes later, he was outside her building with sushi (she had said that she liked it) and a bag full of snacks. He didn’t know what she liked, so he had bought a little bit of everything.
A short, old lady walked out the door, and Azriel caught it with one hand. He didn’t want to call her and make her come to the door right now, so he snuck in.
Elain had told him that she lived on the sixth floor, so he quickly made his way up the stairs. He couldn’t risk being caught in an elevator right now.
He found the door with her name on it and raised his hand to knock. And then he froze.
What am I doing? he thought to himself. He had basically asked her for her address and then invited himself to bring her food. He knew that she had a bad history when it came to men. What if she just didn’t want to say no because she thought that it would hurt his feelings?
Azriel contemplated leaving the food outside the door and text her when he was a safe distance away.
“Azriel, is that you?” someone called from the apartment. Elain.
Azriel had to swallow the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he called back. “Do you want me to leave the food outside the door?”
“No, come in. The door is open.”
With a deep breath, Azriel gathered his courage and reached for the doorknob.
He walked into a small hallway that opened up to a quaint kitchen. Elain was nowhere in sight. The kitchen was bright and welcoming. The walls were painted light green and the cabinets were white. Azriel could see a few cookbooks on her windowsill, which made him smile. Most people didn’t own cookbooks nowadays - they just found recipes online.
“In here,” Elain called. Azriel made his way through the kitchen and into the living room. His first thought was that the room really seemed to fit Elain. The dark wooden floor was a nice contrast to the white walls. Not that you saw much of the walls since they were covered by a built-in bookshelf and a gallery wall full of botanical prints. And there were plants in every nook and cranny. There was a dark green velvet couch in the middle of the room, and on it sat Elain. Or actually, she was half-seated, half laying down. Her foot was propped up with a few pillows. There was a coffee mug on the table in front of her, and beside the couch, he could see a worn leather chair.
Elain was smiling at him as he entered the room. When he smiled back, she put the back of her hand against her forehead, which made her look like a damsel in distress from one of those old Hollywood movies. “You came for me,” she exclaimed in an awful fake southern accent. “My hero!”
Azriel couldn’t help but laugh. Elain was wearing black leggings and an oversized shirt. Her hair was gathered into a ponytail. She was beautiful, Azriel thought to himself as he sat down in the leather chair, giving her all the space she needed on the couch.
“How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Madja said that it seems to be a mild ankle sprain, and I should be up and running in like one to two weeks. Honestly, I feel more stupid than anything else.”
“Why?” Azriel asked.
“Well, I didn’t want to cancel our date. And who falls out of the shower? I really am the clumsiest person in Velaris,” she joked. “Yesterday, I dropped a full cup of coffee over my new, white shirt. And the day before that, I poked my friend Nuala in the eye with a flower.”
“You… poked her in the eye with a flower?”
Elain laughed. “Yes. Her eye was red for hours.”
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Azriel thought that he could drown in those eyes. He wanted her to look at him forever.
But he didn’t want to intrude. “Do you want me to leave? I could just leave the food here with you.”
Elain bit her inner cheek, suddenly looking very nervous. “Would you...Didn’t you buy food for yourself?”
“I did. But I don’t have to eat with you if you want to be alone.”
“I…” she took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be alone.” It was barely a whisper.
“So, you want me to stay?”
Elain nodded, a lovely pink color spreading across her cheeks.
“Okay.” Azriel unpacked the sushi from the bag and offered her a choice of drinks. “We have lemon, elderflower, and regular coke. I didn’t know what you preferred.”
“Elderflower, please.”
She was still blushing. Azriel couldn’t tell if she was uncomfortable or just nervous.
Azriel handed her the drink and opened the coke for himself.
Elain sat up slowly and reached for her chopsticks. Since she had to sit with her leg raised, she couldn’t exactly lean over the coffee table, so Azriel placed the sushi on a pillow in her lap.
“Thank you,” she said and put a few pillows behind her back. From where he sat, he could only see the back of Elain’s head now. He wanted to move the chair so he could look at her, but he didn’t want to come off as creepy.
And he was actually quite happy that they couldn’t see each other when she took a bite of her food and let out a sigh. It was just a sigh, but somehow it was the most erotic sound Azriel had ever heard. He blushed and made a point of looking at his food.
“God, this is so good, Azriel. Thank you. I was really hungry.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Lunch,” she said under her breath and took another bite of sushi. Azriel looked at his watch. She hadn’t eaten in more than seven hours. And she was going to make instant ramen if he hadn’t shown up. Suddenly, he felt a bit better about the situation.
When Azriel looked up from his food, Elain was looking at him over her shoulder.
“Is this weird?” she asked. “Is it weird that I asked you to stay? I know it isn’t fun…”
“I kind of remember that I was the one who asked for your address, and then showed up at your doorstep with food. I promise that I wouldn't have done that if I didn’t want to. If anything, I’m weird for showing up like this.”
She laughed, but it was a sad laugh. “No, you’re not weird. You’re kind. I’m just not used to this.”
Azriel frowned. “Not used to what? Kindness?”
Elain looked away, but Azriel didn’t miss the slight nod. “My ex never came over when I was sick. He said that I was boring and that he had better things to do…”
Azriel felt his hands curl into fists. “Is this the same ex that cheated on you and now leaves hate on your videos?” he gritted out.
Another nod. “Yes. But there has been almost no hate since you helped me block those words.” She smiled at him, and he could tell that she wanted to change the subject.
“That’s good to hear.”
Azriel wanted nothing more than to ask where this asshole lived so he could go and kick his ass, but he tried to act civil for Elain’s sake.
“I’m sorry for talking about him,” she said. “You should never talk about exes on dates and…” Her eyes grew wide when she realized what she said. “Not that this is a date or anything,” she corrected herself. “I mean, it would be a pretty shitty date.”
She was flustered, and Azriel couldn’t hide the big grin on his face. She was so cute.
“Elain. Do you want this to be a date?”
“Do you?”
He knew that she needed to hear him say it. “Yes.”
A shy smile played on her face. “Me too.”
“Then it’s settled. This is our first date,” Azriel declared.
Elain’s smile grew. “So there’s a chance for more dates?”
“Don’t be greedy,” Azriel teased. Elain stuck out her tongue and turned around again, facing her food.
I want to taste that tongue, Azriel thought.
Damn those intrusive thoughts.
“I can’t believe that I’m wearing leggings on our first date.”
Azriel didn’t say anything to that. He could complain about anything that tight.
God, what was wrong with his brain tonight?
“You look so good, and I look like this,” she pointed at her hair. “I had even bought a new dress for tonight.”
This piqued Azriel’s interest. “Really? Tell me what it looks like and I can imagine you in it.”
Or out of it.
Stupid fucking brain.
Elain pointed somewhere behind Azriel. “Well, it’s right there.”
On a door that Azriel assumed led to her bedroom, hung a blue dress.
Cobalt blue.
His favorite color.
He grinned and pulled up one pant leg and showed her his sock “We would have matched.”
Elain let out a heartfelt laugh, which made Azriel all warm inside. He loved seeing her happy. He liked knowing that he was the reason for said happiness.
“I didn’t take you for a man that wears colorful socks,” she said, still laughing. “First Barbie Girl, and now colorful socks. I’m starting to think that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
“Oh, I’m full of surprises.”
There was a stretch of silence again. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. Even though they didn’t know each other well yet, Azriel could already tell that Elain was one of those people that he just instantly could relax around.
“Elain, this might be a weird request. But can I move this chair so I’m not staring at the back of your head?”
Elain turned around, cheeks pink again. “Yes,” she answered quickly, almost as if she had thought about the same thing.
He picked up the chair and quickly moved it to the other side of the couch. When he met Elain’s gaze, she was staring at him, mouth agape.
“What?”
“You’re strong.”
Azriel scratched his neck and laughed nervously, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, I work out.”
Wow, what a stupid fucking answer.
But Elain didn’t seem to mind. No, she was looking at him more intently now, and her eyes were not focusing on his face anymore. No, they were most definitely looking at his chest. “I can tell,” she said playfully. This felt very much like flirting,
Azriel wondered what she would think of the tattoos covering his skin underneath the shirt.
Azriel tried to remember the conversation topics he had written down on his phone, and after a few minutes, they were talking as if they had known each other for years. Azriel was surprised that she was so easy to talk to. Most of the time, he struggled with social situations. But with Elain, he felt comfortable. At ease.
“You’re very easy to talk to,” he told Elain. She rewarded him with a smile.
“So are you. It feels like we have known each other forever. I never thought that someone that slid into my DM’s would ever be this nice.”
At those words, Nesta’s face popped into Azriel’s mind. He should tell Elain that he knows Nesta. If it wasn’t for her, he would never have known that Elain lived in Velaris. If it wasn’t for Nesta, he wouldn’t have happened to run past her store that morning.
“I have a confession to make,” he said before he could change his mind.
Elain raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Please don’t tell me you’re trying to get me to join a cult.”
“Has that happened before?”
Elain shrugged. “More often than you think.”
“I’m not trying to get you to join a cult. I just… I wanted to tell you that I think that we have some mutual friends.”
She didn’t look surprised, but she didn’t say anything either, so Azriel continued.
“You know Nesta, right? I think you went to college together…”
Elain nodded.
“Well, she’s getting married to my best friend Cassian. I didn’t know that you knew them when I wrote to you, I promise. But it felt weird pretending like we don’t have people in common when we do. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I found out last week when Nesta saw one of your videos on my phone and asked me if I was a stalker.”
Azriel was blushing now. He was expecting silence, or maybe questions. But instead, he was met with laughter.
“She thought you were a stalker?”
Azriel shrugged, unable to find any good words.
“Well, I might also have a confession to make,” Elain announced. “I actually knew that you were friends with Nesta. That’s why I even answered your DM in the first place.”
“What?” Azriel couldn’t find better words than that.
“Yeah, when I scrolled through your Instagram I saw a photo from Rhysand’s and Feyre’s wedding, so I kind of figured out who you were then. Nesta had mentioned you once or twice before, so I knew you weren’t a creep. And then I saw that selfie when you were carrying a lasagna, and you looked so good, so I answered your DM.” Her blush had almost turned a deep red.
Azriel couldn’t help but grin. “You answered because I looked hot? You said that the lasagna looked tasty…”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Want to hear another confession?”
Azriel nodded.
“Well, I kind of understood how to block words from the link you sent me, but I really wanted to talk to you more.”
Azriel’s mouth fell open in pretend shock. “Sneaky girl.”
“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier. I just…”
“No, no. It’s okay,” Azriel interrupted. “Do you want to hear another of my confessions?”
“Yes, please.”
Azriel put his elbows in his knees and leaned forward. He could tell that her eyes went to his biceps. Good.
“Well, when I first saw one of your videos, I thought that you might be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Elain blushed even more, the color spreading to her chest. Not that Azriel was looking there.
“Really?”
“Yes. And when we talked on the phone, you know, that time when you lied about needing my help,” Azriel winked at her. “I hadn’t laughed that much in ages. I was so bummed because I thought that you lived on the other side of the country or something.”
“But I didn’t.” She smiled.
“You didn’t.” He smiled back.
They spent the entire night in Elain’s living room, just talking. Without even noticing it, a few hours went by. When they finished the sushi, Azriel made a snack buffet on the coffee table, which made Elain laugh.
“We are going to be so sick if we eat all of this.”
“Well, someone told me that she might be bedridden for more than a week, so maybe you could save some for the upcoming days of rest and relaxation.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said and reached for the popcorn.
They continued flirting for the rest of the evening, but nothing explicit happened. They didn’t touch. Didn’t kiss. They just talked. It was all Azriel could have dreamt of. He had never felt so comfortable so quickly with anyone before. When it was close to midnight, he could tell that Elain was getting tired. After her fifth yawn, Azriel told her that he should probably get going.
She protested and then yawned again.
“Okay, I admit defeat,” she said and stretched. Azriel could see her stomach when her shirt rode up from the motion. It looked so wonderful and soft and…
He didn’t even have time to finish his thought, because Elain was trying to stand up by herself. Trying, and failing miserably.
“Could you help me to the bathroom?” she whispered and nodded to a white door just by the kitchen.
“Of course,” Azriel put his arm around her waist and supported her. She didn’t complain, but he could see the pain on her face. It hurt him to see her like this.
“I’m just gonna brush my teeth. Don’t go just yet.” She closed the door. Azriel leaned against the wall next to the door and dragged his hands through his hair.
He looked around the room, not quite believing that he was here. In Elain’s home.
This date had been even better than he could ever have imagined. He was actually quite happy that they hadn’t gone out, but he obviously didn’t like that the reason for staying home was that she was hurt.
The door opened again, and Elain looked at Azriel with a pale face. She was so obviously in pain. Azriel grabbed her around the waist again and held her up.
“Do you have any painkillers?”
She nodded. “By the bed. Could you help me? Just to the door.”
Azriel started leading the way, but after two steps Elain winced.
Azriel couldn’t take it anymore. “Hold on,” he warned her, and then he picked her up. She gasped and flung her arms around his neck. This was the closest they had ever been. One of his fingers graced the hem of her shirt. He could feel her skin there. He had to take a deep breath. “Is this okay?”
“Mhm,” she breathed, and he walked her to her room. He stopped at the door. It was a cozy bedroom. The walls were painted a dark blue and above her bed hung a giant painting with a floral motif in a gold frame.
“Nice room,” he said. He didn’t put her down. She had said that she only needed help to the door, but he couldn’t see her walking to her bed all by herself,
“Thank you.”
“Do you want me to...” he started, but he was interrupted when Elain said his name.
“Azriel,” she repeated.
He looked at her then, her face just inches from his. He could see every freckle on her skin. He could count every eyelash. His eyes went to her plush lips, and then back to her eyes.
Had she noticed?
She had his attention now.
“Azriel,” she whispered. “Are you going to kiss me?”
Azriel was taken aback. He hadn’t expected that question. He didn’t mind, of course not. he was just surprised. She could probably see that in his eyes, because she quickly tried to smooth over it. “I mean, we don’t have to. I completely understand if you don’t want to, and I..”
Azriel kissed her temple to make her quiet. It worked very well. “You’re hurt.”
“Just my ankle,” Elain pouted. “Also, haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘kiss it better’?”
Azriel rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that it means that you should kiss the place that hurts,” he teased.
“Eh, semantics. I think a kiss on the lips might do wonders.”
Azriel leaned in, almost touching his lips to her. Almost. “Oh, is that what you think?” he teased.
“Mhm,” she breathed.
Azriel stayed like that for a while, his lips just out of reach. He wanted her to beg. He wanted her to go crazy with want. With need.
But that was for another time. Right now, he just needed to kiss her.
Elain was tilting her head to get closer to him. Her mouth was slightly parted and her eyes scanned his before fluttering shut.
Offer and permission.
Azriel leaned in slowly and brushed his lips to hers. It was a feathery light touch. He could feel Elain shiver in his arms, and he held her closer. Tighter. He touched her lips with his again, and he knew he needed more. He tasted her lips once more, his tongue teasing her lower lip. Elain opened up for him, letting him in. She moaned when he deepened the kiss. When he pressed his lips more firmly to hers. When her tongue joined his. They were both panting, unable to stop. Elain’s hands went to Azriel’s hair, gently scraping his scalp while her tongue tangled with his. The sensation made Azriel crazy, and if she hadn’t been injured he would have lowered her to the bed and continued his kisses down her body until she was writhing underneath him, begging for more.
But she was hurt. And it was late.
Unwillingly, Azriel slowed down before breaking the kiss.
“More,” Elain panted and kissed his jaw.
Azriel chuckled. “Don’t be greedy.”
She pouted when he walked over to her bed, and it was the cutest pout Azriel had ever seen. It was so cute in fact, that he had to lean in again and kiss her lower lip. He didn’t know how it happened, but he was suddenly sitting on Elain’s bed with her in his lap. He was still holding her tight, her fingers still in his hair. Their lips were locked in another kiss. This one was even hotter. Even deeper. Azriel thought to himself that he didn’t need air if he could just taste these lips for the rest of his life.
After a small eternity, they did have to break apart though. Turns out the human body needs air. Stupid body.
Elain leaned her forehead against his.
“I should go,” Azriel said, even though every fiber of his being protested that statement.
She nodded. “Okay.” She was still out of breath. So was he.
Elain kissed his forehead, which made him feel oddly safe. “So, can I have a second date?”
Azriel chuckled and nuzzled her neck. She smelled divine. He wanted nothing more than to taste her there; just below her ear.
“You can have as many dates as you want.”
“Good to know.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
After a few minutes of catching their breaths, Azriel helped Elain into bed. He fetched her a glass of water for the painkillers and made sure that all her windows were closed.
He leaned against her doorframe, trying to memorize the sight of her in bed. She looked so cute. So vulnerable.
“Could you lock the door when you leave? My keys are on the kitchen counter. You can just put them in the mailbox.”
“Of course.” Azriel walked into her room again and leaned over her. He kissed the top of her head and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Sleep well, Elain.”
“You too, Azriel.”
She was already drifting off.
Azriel walked quietly through the apartment and made sure that the door was locked behind him.
Azriel was walking home on clouds that evening.
In his bones, he could feel that this was the start of something wonderful.
When he climbed into bed that night, he saw a new message from Elain. She must have sent it just after he left her place. He opened the message, and there was no text. Just an audio file.
He pressed play and was immediately met with her heavenly voice.
“I thought that this might help you sleep,” Elain whispered, and Azriel could feel tingles up and down his spine. “Thank you for a wonderful date, Azriel.”
And then she repeated his name. For five minutes, she was whispering “Azriel, Azriel, Azriel,” over and over again, and it made Azriel both sleepy and aroused.
It was actually a very pleasant feeling, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.
That night, he dreamt about brown eyes, golden hair, and the sweetest lips he had ever tasted. Azriel had never felt better.
78 notes · View notes
contemplativepancakes · 4 years ago
Text
yarn rants with dandelion
3.5k of Geralt poorly hiding the fact that he knits from his family and, in general, being an idiot, read here on AO3
Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks. 
“Nothing,” Geralt says in a rush. 
“Uh huh.” Eskel raises his hands. “Can’t be any weirder than the porn Lambert watches.”
Geralt grunts, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”
Eskel glances at his watch. “I figured you might want help before the game.”
“I’m ordering pizza,” Geralt says. “Actually, do you want to do it? I have cleaning I still need to do before everyone else gets here.”
Eskel’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, and Geralt starts to sweat as he sees Eskel's skepticism. Geralt always makes a spread on game day, telling everyone he’s not going to wait two hours for delivery while they’ll be so busy. 
“Um. Okay.” Eskel stares at him for a beat before finally pulling out his phone. “What am I ordering?” 
Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want.”
He goes to his room, shutting the door behind him and hearing Eskel’s voice as he talks to the pizza place. Geralt looks to his bed, where a half finished baby blanket is laid out, before hastily gathering it and its attached ball of yarn up and stuffing them in a basket, piled high with various colors and weights. He throws some dirty clothes from his floor on top for good measure before reemerging from his bedroom, Eskel looking at him suspiciously from his spot on the couch. 
“Sure you don’t need help with anything?” Eskel asks. 
“No, I’m, uh, I’m good.” Geralt goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, passing one to Eskel and keeping one for himself. 
Thankfully, Eskel doesn’t say anything about his odd behavior, just watches the pregame show with him without comment until Letho arrives, followed shortly after by Lambert and Aiden. Geralt’s relieved, because then Eskel’s attention goes to their ridiculous dancing around each other instead of scrutinizing Geralt. 
After everyone has left for the night, Geralt pulls his laptop back out, settling it on the coffee table in front of him and goes to get his blanket. He spreads it across his lap as he clicks play, the sound of a cheerful voice filling his living room. 
“Hey, guys! It’s Dandelion, back with my latest yarn haul! I’ve got some awesome ones, and ones you should avoid at all costs, so watch and see which is which!”
Geralt lets himself stare for a second before he jerks himself out of the trance and looks back down while his needles click together as he starts to knit. 
Geralt lets the feeling of the yarn between his fingers soothe him. That’s why he watches these yarn reviews, after all. He hates going to the store for yarn, but he hates wasting his money on yarn that’s scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin even more. 
Needless to say, he’s grateful to Dandelion for doing all the prep work for him, and he may or may not have developed a crush on the man.  Who watches these videos and hasn’t? Geralt reasons.
Dandelion has an infectious enthusiasm, and Geralt can’t help the soft smile from spreading across his face as he listens.
Geralt keeps knitting until his skein is almost out. When he has less of a ball and more of a tangle left, he casts his eyes around for the next one before looking despairingly back at his blanket when he doesn’t find it. 
Fuck. 
He knew he should have ordered extra; he always does this to himself, but somehow he never learns. He groans as he pulls his computer onto his lap and opens up the website he orders his yarn from. He goes into his history and clicks on the link to his blanket yarn. It’s teal, velvety, and Geralt can’t stop running his fingers over it. When the page finally loads,  out of stock  blinks back at him. 
Double fuck. 
He’s never made a blanket before, and he’s drastically underestimated how much it would take. He’s going to need at least three more skeins. Yen’s baby shower is in a month and a half, and there’s no telling when the yarn is going to come back in stock. What if they discontinued it? 
There’s nothing for it; he’s going to have to go into the store. He looks at the clock. First thing tomorrow, he decides, before it gets busy. He’ll go right when they open, before the store gets noisy and filled with women who always try to draw him into conversation for some reason. 
Geralt huffs at the thought. 
Geralt tugs his scarf a little tighter against his neck before he gets out of the car and heads into the store. There’s only four cars in the parking lot, so Geralt hopes he’ll be able to get in and out quickly. 
Once he’s inside, he makes a beeline for the yarn aisle, trying to hold in his noise of dismay when he sees someone already standing there. Geralt avoids eye contact and feigns interest in the brightly colored acrylic yarns at the end of the aisle. The person is right in front of the baby yarn section, and Geralt tries not to tap his foot. 
Just when Geralt is getting ready to pretend to browse other aisles while he waits, there’s movement behind him. “Lovely scarf,” a man’s voice says. “Looks very soft.”
Geralt turns around, only for his eyes to widen as he comes face to face with Dandelion. 
He’s sure something very intelligent sounding comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t register it. 
Whatever it was makes Dandelion laugh, sounding familiar and alarmingly close when they’re not separated by a screen. Geralt glances down at Dandelion’s basket to see it piled high with yarn. 
“Nice colors you have there,” Geralt finally manages. 
Dandelion beams. “Thank you!” 
Geralt takes a closer look and realizes they’re rainbow colors. He heaves a tiny sigh. He’s a disaster. Does Dandelion think he’s flirting with him? Not that Geralt doesn’t want to be, per se, but—it’s complicated. 
“Did you make your scarf yourself? Or did a boyfriend make it for you?” Dandelion asks. 
“I made it myself,” Geralt mumbles. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved by this line of questioning or not.
“Oh?”
“No boyfriend.”
Dandelion turns another smile on him, and Geralt tries not to melt. “What are you shopping for?” 
“Oh. Um. A blanket.”
Dandelion turns back towards the shelves with a critical eye before he plucks out a chunky bright yellow and holds it out to Geralt for his inspection. Geralt runs his fingers over it absently. “Feels nice.”
“Right? I love this brand. How big of a blanket are you making?”
“It’s for a baby.”
Dandelion’s eyebrow arches in question. 
“My friend is adopting soon; I thought this would be nice,” Geralt says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.
Dandelion shifts his basket from one hand to the other. “Oh, my. That is very nice.”
Geralt grumbles as he piles more yarn than can surely be reasonable into his own basket while Dandelion eyes the shelf thoughtfully. 
Geralt finishes putting the yarn into his basket and goes to leave the aisle, but Dandelion stops him before he takes more than three steps. 
“Better get more than you think. I get what I expect to use, and then add 25 percent more.”
That makes Geralt crack a smile. “That makes an expensive hobby even worse.”
Dandelion shrugs. “The curse of being a creative.”
Geralt picks two more bundles from the shelf. “I suppose you’re right.”
Dandelion clears his throat. “Hey, what’s your name?”
Geralt answers, and Dandelion looks him up and down. “Would you like to join our yarn circle?”
“What?” Geralt asks, throat dry.
Dandelion shakes his head glumly. “Nevermind. It’s just there are so few men…”
“I’ll join,” Geralt says, before he fully thinks out his words. 
Dandelion brightens instantly. “Excellent!”
Dandelion follows him to the register, chattering the whole way, and by the time Geralt leaves the store, Dandelion has his number saved in his phone. Geralt can’t help but notice how the women are leaving him alone today, just shooting him the occasional baleful look. It’s a nice change of pace. Maybe he should run into Dandelion more often. 
“I’ll text you, okay?” Dandelion says after he’s walked with Geralt to his car. 
“Um, yeah, okay,” Geralt replies. 
He slides into his car and watches Dandelion walk to a bright yellow slug bug. He quirks a grin. It fits him. Geralt’s just turned the key in his ignition when he realizes he didn’t even get the yarn that he came for. He sighs and shuts the engine off. 
If he reemerges from the store with the yarn for the rest of his blanket in addition to two skeins of blue that remind him of Dandelion’s eyes, well, that’d be creepy, and it’s nobody’s business but his, anyway. 
-
Geralt looks down at his phone.  yarn circle at that coffee place on Main tomorrow at ten! you in?
He saves the contact in his phone, debating with himself before typing  Dandelion 🌼.
He puffs a breath through his lips. He shouldn’t be this worked up about a text. 
See you then  , he types, and goes back to make the  s  lowercase. 
“Who are you texting?” Eskel asks from his spot on the couch, setting down his own phone.
“Who are  you  texting?” Geralt retorts weakly. 
Eskel looks at him, unimpressed. “My girlfriend, dude. Did you finally get yourself one? You know, it’s kind of weird Yen’s replacing you with a baby…”
Geralt grits his teeth. “She’s not replacing me. We just had conflicting goals for the future.”
“And what, pray tell, are these goals?”
Geralt shrugs. “Not kids. I’d be a terrible dad.”
Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve hashed out many times before. “Hmm,” Eskel says pointedly, and Geralt gives him an eye roll right back. 
“Are we watching this movie or not?”
Eskel mumbles something too low for Geralt to hear. 
-
The next morning dawns bright and early. Too early for Geralt to reasonably head out to the coffee shop by the time he’s ready, so he takes the time to work on the blanket. He’s inching closer to being done, and he’s looking forward to starting something with the yellow yarn, but he’s not quite sure what he wants to make yet. 
He wonders if he’s supposed to take his blanket to this yarn circle. Do they knit? Or just talk about it? What if they gossip the whole time? Geralt doesn’t have anything juicy to contribute; he doubts they want to hear about Eskel’s latest problems with his goat yoga business. Giving customers ringworm probably isn’t the best breakfast conversation. He takes in a deep breath, trying to stop the panic spiral. 
It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. 
-
It’s not fine.
When he walks in, Dandelion is already sitting at a table, wearing a floral button down that has entirely too many buttons undone to be decent. Geralt tries not to imagine what Dandelion’s chest hair would feel like under his finger tips, if it would be coarse and wiry or smooth and silky. 
Geralt shakes his head and grunts a greeting when Dandelion waves him over. 
“Hello, hello! Find the place okay?”
“No issues,” Geralt says, pulling out a chair and settling his bag with his knitting awkwardly on the ground. 
Dandelion glances down at his phone, and whatever he sees makes his face tighten. 
“Hmm, looks like the rest of the circle isn’t going to be able to make it. Flat tire.”
Geralt arches an eyebrow at him. “Do they...need help? I could go change it.”
Dandelion mutters something to himself before looking back up at Geralt. “I think they already have that covered.”
Geralt laughs and rubs a hand on his neck. “You know, I’m going to start thinking you were just trying to get me alone.”
Dandelion returns the nervous laugh and warms his hands on his mug. “Are you going to get some coffee?” he asks. 
“Uh, yeah.” Geralt stands up before turning back to Dandelion. “What do you recommend? I don’t come places like this very often.”
“Yeah, I bet. You seem like a coffee, black kind of person.”
“I don’t drink coffee,” Geralt admits. 
Dandelion’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t drink coffee?”
“Makes me jumpy. My hands shake.”
Dandelion lets out a sharp exhale. “Wow.”
Geralt scowls. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. You just better get hot chocolate, then.”
“Fine. I will.”
Dandelion’s laughter when Geralt returns to the table with a mug piled high with whipped cream is infectious.
He’s not sure what comes over him, but Geralt sticks out his tongue. 
It’s not until he gets home that he realizes he never even pulled out his knitting. 
-
Dandelion starts texting him more and more, and Geralt feels vaguely guilty when he watches Dandelion’s latest video. 
He should probably tell Dandelion he watches them, but he doesn’t want it to turn into a  thing , and he certainly doesn’t read too much into it when Dandelion mentions running into a handsome stranger on his latest yarn expedition. 
He could be talking about anyone. 
Geralt finishes his blanket for Yen, and he starts to think about what his next project should be. The yellow yarn is bright and warm; silky smooth between his fingers. He starts another blanket, because why not? He’s been wanting to practice cabling, anyway. 
He brings it to the next yarn circle Dandelion invites him to, but it doesn’t get worked on, and Dandelion doesn’t say anything about where the rest of the circle is. Geralt doesn’t ask. 
Finally, four yarn circles in where no knitting is accomplished, Dandelion gives up the ghost and asks Geralt out on a date. “That’s not what we’ve been doing?” Geralt asks with a small smile. 
Dandelion shoves him in the chest, a teasing glint in his eye before his hand lingers on Geralt’s pec for a little too long. He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. “Great. I can’t wait," Geralt says.
“I’ll choose to believe that’s not sarcastic.”
Geralt pokes at him. “It’s not.”
“Hmm.”
Geralt rolls his eyes and  hmm s right back. 
-
A few weeks later finds Geralt sifting through Netflix for a movie to watch. “Hey, Dandelion!” Geralt calls from the couch, tugging a blanket up to his chin. 
Dandelion freezes from his spot just outside the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand. 
“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt says.
“What did you just say?”
“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt repeats, more slowly this time. 
“No, no, before that.”
Geralt thinks. “Your...name?”
Dandelion blinks at him. “My name is Jaskier.”
Now Geralt is the one who’s confused. “No, it’s not?”
“Geralt, I think I know my own name.” Dandelion’s face pinches. “Wait. You watch my videos?”
Geralt steels himself for the conversation. He had been wondering if he'd just be able to take the fact that he watches them to his grave. “Yes?”
“And you didn’t think to mention this?”
“It seemed...weird," Geralt says haltingly.
Geralt’s still reeling from the revelation. He’s the world’s worst boyfriend; Dandelion has to be playing a cruel prank on him. 
“And it didn’t seem weird to you that you were watching me literally sing your praises last week?”
“I thought it was kind of sweet.”
Dand—Jaskier drags a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this.”
“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t your actual name?”
“Geralt, we have been together for a month. How do you not know my  name ?”
“It’s never come up!” Geralt says defensively. “You’re the one who never even introduced yourself. Talk about bad manners.”
Jaskier splutters, and Geralt can’t help but quirk a grin at the ridiculousness of the situation. 
Jaskier finally rallies. “We’re going to have a talk about online boundaries, but—”
“But what?”
“You’re so god damned stupid,” Jaskier says, before dragging Geralt into a kiss. 
Geralt goes without complaint. 
-
While Geralt ponders the new nature of their relationship, he finally finds a use for the blue yarn he’s been hoarding. The whole time he’s knitting the hat, he thinks of Jaskier. It’s exactly the right shade of his eyes, but Geralt doesn’t let himself contemplate it too hard. 
When he’s finished, he finds an index card and scrawls a message. He wraps up the whole thing and gives it to Jaskier the next time he sees him. 
Jaskier tears the package open and rubs the yarn between his fingers in delight. “You made this for me? No one’s ever knitted something for me before.”
“I’m glad I could remedy that,” Geralt says gruffly, shifting uncomfortably at the adoring look Jaskier is giving him. 
Jaskier notices the card and reads it before bursting into laughter. 
Sorry I didn’t know your name <3
“You’re forgiven.”
On to the next order of business, then. Geralt clears his throat. “Yen’s baby shower is next week.”
Jaskier makes a noise of polite interest, not looking up from where he’s examining the stitches in the hat. Geralt really hopes he doesn’t notice where he dropped one. 
Geralt waits for a few more seconds and sighs. Jaskier is really going to make him ask. “I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”
Jaskier tilts his head up and gives Geralt a bright smile. “Of course I would!” He pauses to think for a moment. “Are you...out to them?”
“Yes,” Geralt grumbles. “It turns out my hiding spot for my play girls when I was 16 wasn’t as clever as I thought.”
Jaskier snorts. “It never is, is it?”
-
In the days leading up to the shower, Jaskier’s anxiety starts to show, but Geralt politely doesn’t comment. They walk up to the party arm in arm, Geralt carrying both of their gift bags. Geralt had told him he didn’t need to get anything, but he had anyway, insisting that he had just happened to stumble across  the cutest onesie, Geralt! What a coincidence!
Geralt can’t help but smile as he looks over at Jaskier. Jaskier’s thumb is compulsively stroking over a spot on Geralt’s hand, and he’s even wearing the hat Geralt knitted him. Geralt’s chest feels tighter than normal. 
“Oh, so this is why you haven’t been such a grump lately?” Triss asks once they walk through the door, taking their gift bags to set on a side table. 
“I’m never grumpy,” Geralt says, and Jaskier has the audacity to laugh, so Geralt elbows him in the side. 
Triss laughs at that, too, before she goes off to find Yennefer and drags her back to them. “Geralt!” she exclaims, rubbing a hand up his arm. “I’m glad you could drag yourself away from your very important activities that you refuse to tell anyone about.”
Geralt rolls his eyes and looks over to see Jaskier staring at him curiously. 
“Ah, and this must be Dandelion!” Yen says, turning to Jaskier. 
“Eskel wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Geralt hisses, but Yen just gives him a delighted smile. 
Geralt sighs as she moves on to terrorize her next guest. 
“Your friends are pretty brutal, Geralt,” Jaskier says lightly. 
“You have no idea.” 
Geralt leads Jaskier over to where Eskel and Lambert are sitting by the food table and attempts to make small talk. 
Almost immediately, Lambert asks, “What’d you get her?” 
Eskel and Geralt share an exasperated look. “Why so competitive, Lamb? Over compensating?”
Lambert scowls. “I was just curious. You’re not going to be able to top what I got her, anyway. Best uncle ever.”
“You’re not going to be an uncle,” Eskel says. 
Lambert is unconcerned. “Best uncle ever.”
Geralt crosses his arms and leans into Jaskier, trying to block out Eskel and Lambert’s bickering. 
“I hate things like this,” Geralt mutters. 
“Oh, don’t worry, Geralt. You being an unbearable softie is our little secret. I won’t breathe a word.”
Geralt grumbles. “That’s not why.” He pauses, then, “Why do I put up with you?”
“I can think of a few reasons,” Jaskier says, turning his head to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple. 
Geralt flushes at the touch and looks around, but no one is staring at them like anything out of the ordinary happened. Geralt relaxes back against him. 
He’s almost dozing off by the time Yen gets to his gift, and he only realizes it by Jaskier digging a bony elbow into his stomach. He pinches Jaskier in retribution. 
Yen opens the gift carefully, making the appropriate polite noises as she does so. 
“Isn’t it soft?” Jaskier asks as she strokes her fingers over the blanket. “Geralt chose some great yarn.”
Geralt whips his neck around to look at Jaskier so quickly he thinks he heard something pop.
“What?” 
“The yarn! It’s so nice and such a lovely color, don’t you think? Geralt did a wonderful job.”
“Geralt, you made this?” Yennefer asks incredulously, and great, her voice cracks. 
Geralt sighs and tries to accept his fate of all the merciless jokes that are going to be made in his defense. “Yes?”
“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”
“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Lambert asks. 
Geralt shrugs defensively. “I’ve been knitting for years.”
Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the blue cap perched on top of Jaskier’s head, and teasing grins spread over their faces. 
Geralt groans. He’s never going to hear the end of this.
As Jaskier takes his hand in his and squeezes, he thinks maybe that’s okay. 
206 notes · View notes
olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago
Note
soulmate au?????
Soulmate Au where things that people love/hate appear tattooed on their soulmate’s body. If they love it it’ll be on their front, and if they hate it it’ll appear on their back. The more important it is the closer it is to the heart. They can also move around/disappear over time.
Tim Drake is two years old when he receives his first soulmarks. There are two: the names Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain are found in elegant script over his heart.
He was alone when he’d found it, attempting to learn how to button up his shirt, and they’d sprung from his skin. He didn’t bother crying. He’d long since lost hope that someone would come for him if he did.
Instead, he’d waited for a maid to come into the room on her rounds and called her over.
The woman had smiled kindly as she explained soulmarks. How they were actually a good thing. How they meant that he was going to fall in love one day and one day he could get married! Like his mommy and daddy!
He’d seen how his mom and dad were sometimes. He wasn’t all that impressed.
Tim decided that the whole ‘soulmate’ thing could wait. He had a shirt to learn how to button.
~
On the other side of the world, however, Marinette Dupain Cheng is born without any tattoos on her body. Her parents don’t think much of it. She was just older than her soulmate, then. Or maybe she didn’t have one. That was fine.
But then, three years later, a computer appeared over her heart.
Marinette didn’t even notice until she was pulling off her shirt for a bath.
She hadn’t been shocked or scared like Tim had been, instead she’d beamed and waddled over to her mother with the widest grin on her face.
“Maman! Maman! Look! I have a soulmark!”
Sabine had smiled and turned to look but, much to Marinette’s confusion, it quickly morphed into an anxious expression.
Then her mother brought the smile back and she figured it must have been her imagination. The woman had reached out to ruffle her hair.
Marinette had finished getting ready and gotten in the bath, and her mother looked her over for a soulmark as she cleaned her. But there wasn’t one. There wasn’t one on her back and, outside of the one that had just formed, there wasn’t one on her front.
Then what was going on? Even abused kids tended to have their parent’s names somewhere on their bodies. But there was nothing.
The next guess was that her soulmate’s parents were dead. Usually, orphans had their housemates’ names on them, so the kid would have to be on the streets. Could a street kid really get enough access to a computer that it appears over their heart?
Sabine finished toweling off her daughter and pressed a kiss to her head after pulling her shirt on.
“Want to watch Pere bake some?”
The little girl’s eyes lit up and she nodded.
~
Whoever Tim’s soulmate was, they were really good at making friends. His chest was littered with names by the end of their first year of school.
And then there was one name on his back, right over his heart: Chloe Bourgeois. He frowned when he saw it.
For the first time since his first soulmark had appeared, he found himself curious about what was going on.
He pulled out his computer and looked up the name, not expecting to find much.
But, it turned out he did. After running an article through google translate (which didn’t work great) he managed to gather that she was the daughter of the mayor of Paris.
So... his soulmate was French.
(Unless they just had a vendetta against a random 3-year-old. Unlikely, though.)
He pulled up a new tab. It never hurt to learn a new language.
~
Their likes and dislikes slowly cropped up on their bodies as time went on.
Tim had smiled despite himself when he saw the pictures cropping up. A whisk was found on his shoulder, and then a video game console popped up on his stomach, and then a sewing needle and buttons could be seen under their parent’s names. On his back, he could find what appeared to be homework and broccoli. Whoever his soulmate was, their life seemed quaint and pleasant.
Marinette had been happy to see all the little things popping up over herself as well. A circus tent on the sole of her foot, a skateboard on her neck, a camera by the computer. On her back, she could see what looked like playing cards. She thought all their hobbies sounded cute (if a bit random). She was just concerned about the distinct lack of names on her body; she hoped that they were at least getting enough social interaction.
~
When she was twelve, it finally happened: a name appeared!
She stared at the script that had displaced the computer and her eyebrows knit together.
Batman.
Maybe a pet’s name? Human names tended to give a first and last name, so...
She typed it into her phone to try and translate it to French and her eyes widened when it actually gave information on someone in this place called Gotham.
A vigilante?
She laid back in her bed and frowned to herself.
In order for a person to show up as a name, there had to be a personal connection. If there wasn’t, like a celebrity crush, it would show up as a picture. But this was text, so…
Well, she hoped that her soulmate was safe.
Over time, more names appeared. They were all just as odd.
Nightwing?
Batgirl?
A simple google search showed they were vigilantes, too. She frowned slightly.
As long as they were okay, she supposed she should just be happy that they were talking to good people.
Besides, being friends with vigilantes seemed kind of cool. She could understand the appeal. She wished that Paris had something like that.
~
When he was fifteen a polka-dotted yoyo appeared over his heart, displacing their family’s names slightly. He stared at the yoyo for a minute in the mirror and then snickered to himself.
“Damn. They must really like yoyos.”
He laughed to himself and glanced at his back to see if anything changed, and was surprised to find that Chloe’s name had been moved away to make room for…
Was that a butterfly?
“And hate butterflies, apparently.”
~
She stared at the tiny bird over her heart.
Computers, skateboards, circuses, photography, and… birdwatching?
Whoever her soulmate was, their hobbies had range.
~
Tim had been changing out of his Robin costume when the names started disappearing.
Panic filled him. He’d heard before that, when your soulmate dies, your tattoos start to disappear.
But a few stayed, as did their hobbies.
He looked over the remaining names.
Their parents were still there, right next to the yoyo. Their family life was okay…
He stared at the other name and his eyebrows knit together.
Who names their kid Chat Noir?
He shook his head slightly. Maybe his soulmate had a black cat and wasn’t good at naming things.
Tim checked his back, mostly out of habit more than anything, and frowned to himself.
The butterfly had disappeared, and in its place were two names:
Lila Rossi and Hawkmoth.
~
She grinned as she twirled around in the dress she’d made. She was rather proud of it, it had a nice red and black color scheme.
She started taking it off, only to realize something.
Everything was gone.
She looked over her skin, running her fingers over where all the tiny tattoos had once been and felt tears form in her eyes.
Her soulmate was…
And then, slowly but surely, something appeared on her chest.
She wiped her eyes and looked at it, only to frown.
A gag gun that said ‘BANG’.
Nerves rattled around inside her. Something was definitely wrong, she could tell. But how could she fix it?
Maybe she could convince Master Fu to give her the horse miraculous? She could drop into Gotham as Ladybug for a little while and check up on them? Sure, she had no idea who her soulmate was, but she knew who they hung out with. She should at least make sure they’re okay.
A few hours later she was dumped unceremoniously onto a Gotham rooftop.
She looked up at the portal Master Fu had dropped her through and made a rude hand gesture, then pushed herself to her feet. She walked to the edge of the roof, dusting herself off as she went, and looked over the side.
Wow, this place definitely looked like the most dangerous city in the world. She could see a guy holding a gun while walking an old lady across the street it was so bad.
She pulled out her phone and looked up a picture of the vigilantes that she’d seen on her chest. Nightwing… Batgirl…  Batman…
Man, did they have to wear such dark colors? It was night! How dare they do the smart thing and make it hard to see them!
Fine. Time to wonder around and pray, she supposed.
She had been considering detransforming and seeing if she could buy a coffee when she heard a click behind her head.
Ah. Fuck.
~~~
Part 1/21, 34k words in all
Next
The version on AO3 was edited by me to make it better (in my opinion) but this is the original version if you'd prefer that
You didn’t really give me any specifics so I’m sorry if this didn’t turn out like you wanted. You were probably expecting fluff but uhhhhhh,,, don’t know why you were asking ME for that --
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falsegoodnight · 4 years ago
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these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, podfics, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with *.
*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 25th and any fics read after will be included in next month’s fic rec list because otherwise this is going to be obnoxiously long. 
main list ~
✰ black cherries and chocolate by @harryanthus​ | NR | 666 (intense and jarring in the best way. this leaves you with that heart-racing feeling and panic crawling up your throat)
There is something or well, someone in the walls.
✰ keep secrets just to keep you by @hadestyles​ | T | 1k (loved this so much!! and need 1000000 more royalty abos from rori immediately)
“With the elements as my witness, I take you to be my husband. My heartbeat begins with you and ends with you, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis sinks to his knees as well, salty tears mixing with the pure rainwater. “And I take you as mine. My heart beats for you and with you.”
✰ bitter coffee and sweet love by @dontfuckwithmyotp​ | G | 1k (so cute and sweet!! proud of you ari for getting your first fic out and excited to see what you do next!)
“Hello! Welcome to The Busy Bean! Are you new?” Louis blinked in surprise at the voice and looked around to find the source. “Behind you,” The person tapped his shoulder once and he whirled around at the unexpected touch.
“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to interrupt a person—” His rant stopped when he finally faced them. It was a guy—Harry Styles, according to his small black name tag. His eyes widened in embarrassment.
✰ turn your mic off, baby by @vogueharrystan​ | E | 2k (i love when lilli writes harry’s pov. this was so hot!)
Louis walks around the house naked all day and ignores Harry to play video games instead. Harry gets tired of it.
✰ This Could Be Love by mulletharry | G | 2k (such a cute and perfect little valentine’s day fic! put the biggest smile on my face <3)
Harry and Louis have been together for four months. They spend their first Valentine’s Day together.
✰ you appear as my soul by @hadestyles​​ | T | 2k (so gorgeous and raw)
He aches — not as much as Louis, he could never imagine all that he bears quietly — and as cruel as it sounds, it keeps reminding him of how fragile they are.
✰ the energy from your body by sweetielouis | E | 3k (hilarious, hot, and cute!)
Harry and his friends have a popular podcast, for the Valentines Day special they get a bit drunk and talk a bit too comfortably about their friends arses.
It's a good thing Louis doesn't mind it all that much. 
✰ look how i remember by @harryanthus​ | M | 4k (this left me speechless and aching)
He hates it, he wants to scream and tell Harry as much. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me as if we are in love. Kiss me like you will never do it again. Kiss me with so much hatred that it turns back to love.
✰ Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup​ | G | 5k (so so cute and funny!!)
"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."
It feels like time slows down.
Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.
The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.
The man is gone.
His soulmate is gone.
✰ reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress​ | E | 4k (adorable and funny and amazing!)
Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'
✰ dancing in the moonlight by @outropeace​ | E | 5k (need 100k more of this immediately, thanks. so wonderful)
Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.
✰ The truth is, the stars are falling by larrysbeanies | E | 5k (hot!!! walking-in trope that i love so much)
Harry knows Louis is gay. Hell, he came out to Harry exactly two months ago (when the dreadful dry spell started) because it was becoming increasingly hard to hide the fact that his one night stands were men. And, you know, they’re best friends so there aren’t supposed to be secrets and all that.
Thing is, Louis told Harry he’s gay ergo, Harry is aware that Louis likes men. Why the fuck did he act so normal while fingering him three days ago, then? Is this something straight guys do to their gay best friends in Harry’s world?
Louis would really like to know.
✰ to be used and to be in love by @thelesserneptune​ | E | 5k (blessed that this is a series. really hot and cute!)
Louis doesn't know why his filthy best friend turned into a vanilla boyfriend and thinks of the perfect birthday present to solve that problem.
✰ on the borderline by @princelouisau​ | E | 8k (the way danielle writes... poetry. this broke me down and then stitched me back up <3)
Louis makes his choice.
✰ One Step Closer by agrinwithouthiscat | G | 12k (reading asexual hl fics is instant comfort and this was lovely)
The one fake relationship AU where they don't end up together.
✰ i glow pink in the night by @raspberryoatss​ | E | 12k (hybrid louis perfection, beautiful writing, characters, and story as always!)
Harry reads a lot of articles about hybrids and Louis is determined to prove them wrong.
✰ The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by @speakingwithink | G | 13k (asexual hl again! this one made me cry) 
Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.
✰ Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice by @harriblou​ | M | 13k (enemies with benefits to lovers goodness! so hot and entertaining)
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”
Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.
“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.
✰ hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas | NR | 16k (this writer’s atmosphere/prose draws me in every time. such a lovely story)
Harry's in the army, Louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.
✰ The Future is Now by @jacaranda-bloom​ | E | 16k (love fics in this five times format and this one was so unique and cool!! and the friends to lovers aspect = chef’s kiss)
Five times Louis follows the fortunes to seek out his true love, and the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.
✰ Visceral Heat & Carnal Highs by @theisolatedlily​ | E | 18k (the prose in this... gorgeous. so fucking good and addicting. delighted that there’s going to be a sequel and excited for whatever lily does next!)
Louis is a demon at a house party prowling for a meal, indulging in horrendous sins to satisfy his hunger. Harry is the talk of the night, beckoning all eyes on him and the reason why Louis’s plan goes awry.
✰ deFENCEless by @solvetheminourdreams​ | T | 27k (this was so cute and so funny and i had the biggest smile on my face the entire time. not surprised since stef always evokes that in me with her writing)
When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).
✰ darling, you give love a bad name by snowcaplou | M | 29k (been waiting for this one since summer and i wasn’t disappointed! so wonderful and real!)
Louis’ has been best friends with Gemma all his life in this stupid little town he’s grown to hate. What happens when, after one night together with his best friend’s brother, he falls pregnant? Surrounded by small minds and conservative cultures, Louis has to deal with parents that demand they do the “right” thing. Get married before anybody finds out.
✰ The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson* by @helloamhere​ | T | 31k (will never not be an all-time favorite. louis’ character is my absolute favorite - gothic heroine indeed - and harry is the best dramatic gay ghost ever <3)
Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!
✰ begged and borrowed time by @bottomlwt​ | M | 40k (this concept was so unique and so cool!! loved the medieval setting and the time travel and how everything fit together in the end!!)
“It wasn’t until 1568 that it became time for Prince Harry to find a queen and prepare to rule. However, the day he was set to choose his bride-to-be, he mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again despite the multiple search parties that went on through the years. To this day, historians still do not know what happened with the infamous Prince Styles case..."
✰ Lidocaine and Palm Trees.* by @daddyharrie​ | E | 45k (definition of ris comfort read - on nth reread and still love it wholly. makes me miss la which is an astonishing feat in itself) 
Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.
Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.
Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.
A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.
✰ haunted by the ghost of you* by @missandrogyny​ | E | 49k (perhaps my favorite fic of all time? the humor, the characters, the angst?!?! all the britney spears!! and pink ouija boards and wikihow!!)
He’s tall—that’s the first thing that registers in Louis’ head when he spots him, standing with his hands behind his back. Tall, with curly hair, staring at them with the widest, greenest eyes Louis has ever seen. And wait, are those dimples? Louis didn’t know ghosts could have dimples.
Because he’s definitely a ghost, this boy. At first glance he looks normal, standing there pigeon-toed in a band shirt (The Ramones, Louis can’t help but note incredulously), dark jeans, and some boots, with rings on both hands, and tattoos littering his left arm—a sleeve made of anchors and names and roses and other completely unrelated things. But he’s also a little bit translucent; if Louis focuses, he can see the outline of the furniture, the design of the wallpaper through him.
“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”
At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.
Nick Grimshaw was right.
✰ like real people do by @eeveelou​ | E | 64k (this was... so amazing. the characters were so wonderfully written and so was the journey of healing and growth that louis undertakes over the story :’) loved the contrast between l and h’s lives and how they fit into each other still so perfectly)
Jessica Jones AU in which the dead stay where they belong, featuring Zayn as the high-powered lawyer with a hopeless crush on his assistant Liam, Niall as the constantly stoned but strangely insightful neighbor, Harry as Manhattan’s media darling, and Louis as the never-was hero who’s just trying to pick up the pieces.
✰ Black With Autumn Rain by whimsicule | T | 93k (i actually can’t remember if i’ve read this before??? either way - it was wonderful! loved the setting and atmosphere and the supernatural elements! i was so intrigued from the first sentence onwards)
Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.
podfics ~
✰ tall stories on the page by @soldouthaz​ & read by @softlouislove​ | T (hannah’s voice is so lovely and perfect for reading aloud - and ofc the fic itself is amazing)
Harry's tired of being interviewed by people that only care about the same pointless gossip. Louis is a nice change of pace. 
wips ~
✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved​ | E | 60k | 6/16 (just caught up fully today but i’m really enjoying everything! this is everything i’ve ever wanted in a fantasy fic)
Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.
✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies​ | E | 39k | 3/10 (having a blast reading this one!! i’ve never seen the bachelor in my life but in fic-format, it’s so fun!)
So maybe Louis’ in over his head.
He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.
✰ The Night Still Whispers Sins of Old by @toomanydreamers​ | E | 6k | 2/? (loving this so much, as expected. can’t wait to see how everything unfolds)
Two and a half years have passed since the fateful day when Louis and Harry were crowned Triwizard champions. Confronted with misunderstandings, wounded pride and heartache, Louis stumbled away from the possibility of a future relationship with Harry. Instead, he buried himself into relentless work as a junior Auror and refused to let himself be vulnerable with another person. Circumstances change that force Louis to confront his feelings - and Harry. Stolen glances, picnics at sunrise, thrilling adventures, original spellwork, midnight feasts, soft lips and cautious second chances culminate in an unforgettable mission - but will it be enough to mend their relationship?
non-1d ~
✰ like a bullet needs a gun by @millsxwriting​ | T | 21k | wilds au (despite me having no context, mills still got me to fall in love with toni and shelby. this was so cute and lovely!!)
Toni doesn’t expect to fall for anyone in her senior year. Least of all for Shelby Goodkind, the new girl that arrived in town just before the end of summer. In fact, Toni can’t even look at her for longer than two seconds, or listen to more than three sentences coming out of her mouth without wanting to accidentally push her off a cliff. 
Cue a group project and endless bickering, and suddenly Toni finds herself with an unbearable crush.
If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!
*if i made any errors, please let me know :)
enjoy!
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darkacademicfrom2021 · 4 years ago
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The Dark Team (part 12)
<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>
(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @irwxnhugsx)
Warnings: alcohol.
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Disclaimer: pic not mine.
After the sun came completely down and the night bathed the city, making the flashing lights of the buildings and cars look like the sky had spat all of its stars, you gathered all your work and called it a day. Thor, Steve and Bucky were able to go through everything you told them to, and everything was in control. You had managed to solve a chaotic situation from the distance, and the pleasant feeling of doing things right gave you the last push to close your laptop and join Peter and Loki.
Opening one of the windows, you let the fresh wind hit your face and unfurrow your brows, releasing all the tensions you had been accumulating all week long. Peter sneaked up from outside the building and hung upside down from the frame. You gasped, forgetting for a brief moment he was sticky and not completely out of his mind.
“Are you joining us, older?”.
“Yes, little. I’m going”, you laughed at the comeback of the nicknames. Standing for older sibling and little sibling Tony had baptized you with, years ago. Loki chuckled.
“You two are the epitome of adorability, sometimes”.
“Oh, we can get worse”, you laughed.
You had ordered some food in, without wanting to ever touch the mess of that kitchen again, and a bottle of wine. Nobody was there, else than you three; might as well have fun. As you waited for dinner to arrive, you decided on a slide presentation night. You gave each other no more than twenty minutes to arrange it all, so the chaos would be absolute and uncontrollable.
Peter presented first, with a long powerpoint ranking things the Avengers did in “vine-vibes” ascending order. You two tried (and failed miserably) to explain to Loki what a vine was and why something would have its vibes without being actually a video.
Loki’s presentation was titled “Seven hundred reasons why you shouldn’t worship the God of Sparkly hands”. There were actually only six reasons; two of them were about mass murders he was about to commit, and most of them talked about annoying things he did as a child. There was an extra one where it was just a white background and tiny letters in the middle saying “he dyes his hair blonde, he’s actually a redhead”.
Your presentation was titled “Seven hundred and one reasons why you should worship me instead”. No need to elaborate. They all differed except for Friday; she clapped with her electronic hands.
Two board games and some chess later, the food had already arrived. Peter was famished and ate more than you could’ve imagined a boy was capable of. He got so full, so quickly, that he instantly got sleepy. Loki could not bite his tongue and had to say “just like a baby”. It did not help that you snorted, and Peter shot his webs at you two; Loki avoided them and you couldn’t, so you ended up stuck to the roof. Peter started to walk to his room, leaving you up there.
“Hey, hey! Don’t leave, I’m still here!”, you called him. But he was gone. What an avenger. Loki chuckled, and raised his hand to free you with magic, and you instantly realized you were six meters away from the floor. “Wait! I’ll fall!!”.
He didn’t stop, and dissolved the net with a simple spell. As you fell down, you closed your eyes and tried to cover your head, knowing you’d have at least a broken bone. Peter has done this before, you knew there was no way to actually leave unharmed. Loki’s arms tightened around your body, avoiding you to fall flat against the floor.
As you looked up, you met his face, closer than ever. Closer than it ever has been. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew you had to think about something else than the feeling of his chest against yours, his hands in your back, how he was holding you so gently, how he was looking at you so dearly. You knew you had to think about something else; for he could be reading your mind. He surely was. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop focusing on his peach lips and how soft his cheeks looked from up close. You couldn’t see anything else than the movement of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed hard, and how his hand trembled a little in your back.
He let you down slowly, still holding eye contact, still with his arms around you. Not the threatening gaze he would hold against everyone else on the compound. Not the lustful gaze he would sometimes draw while stealing some glances at you changing on your suit (he thought you didn’t notice, you certainly did). Not the concentrated gaze he would hold still on his face while reading one of those books he always carried around.
It wasn’t any of those. You had studied them thoroughly, meticulously, every inch of his facial expressions, every inch of his being while he wasn’t aware of your eyes on him. God, how you hated to look at him this way, but how much you couldn’t avoid it. Your brain knew you shouldn’t get attached. You had no chance at all to be with him; he was a God, a criminal, and he’d go back to Asgard. And, foremost, he didn’t feel the same. He had a lover, and his mind was still there, stuck in that person, undeletable.
And, as much as you could have read him like a children’s book the entirety of the past week, right now, you had no clue what those green eyes on you meant. You had no idea why the blush on his cheeks was in there, and why he let out a tiny (the tiniest, ever so subtle) gasp. Parted lips that shone, looked so…
You shook your head, closing your eyes. He didn’t let go of his grip around you, but your feet were already on the floor. You could’ve walked away if you wanted to. And you wanted to, you definitely did not want to stay there, and sink your nose in his neck. You certainly did not want to play with his hair while staring at those pair of emeralds he couldn’t keep away from you. You couldn’t read him. He looked at you in a way you’ve never seen him before. Yet it felt so… right.
No, it wasn’t right. God, what were you thinking?
He pulled away, and the cold breeze from the window surrounded your body. You didn’t realize how much body heat he was warming you with until he left. Or maybe it was your own. Your face was still burning. You visibly cringed at your reaction, and could not play it cool at all. He chuckled, again, and walked to the kitchen.
You didn’t say anything. Your face still burned, and your chest was tight. You haven’t felt like this in a long time, why now? Why in the middle of an important mission? Why just now, that he specifically told you he would not stay, and that once he left he would not come back? Why now, that he was opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen, and pouring it in two glasses?
Opening the balcony’s doors, there were two metal chairs (those with delicate designs, that would usually belong to a grandma’s garden) and a round and tiny glass table, just waiting for you two to sit there. You needed fresh air, so you did, sinking in all the city, the active flashlights of the cars, the minute people running around, or walking.
Two glasses of wine clicked against the glass table, and Loki sat in front of you with his eyes fixed on the city, too. You observed him from the corner of your eye, and he did the same. A subtle smile drew across his tightened lips.
After a glass of wine, a refill and about an hour of small talk, he uncrossed his legs and stretched his arms and back with a yawn. The blush still remained intact on his cheeks, and it couldn’t be because of the wine. If you weren’t drunk, much less him. He looked back at you, and chuckled uncomfortably.
“What?”, he asked.
“What what?”.
“You’re staring”.
“Oh, sorry”.
“No, it’s fine”, he said, and you furrowed your brows. He specified, “I don’t mind. I wonder what you’re thinking while you stare, nothing more”.
“So you’re not reading my mind?”.
“No. You said you didn’t like that”.
“Ah”, you gave your glass of wine one last sip and emptied it. It was such a simple gesture, yet you didn’t expect him to actually have listened. Of course he would, he wasn’t actually as bad as he was portrayed by Stark, or so you have seen so far of him. “I just… I wonder about you”.
“About what?”.
“You’re difficult to read. My job here is mainly knowing how to read people”, you explained, and he nodded. “It’s almost like you’re purposely hiding. Like you’re shifting your microexpressions into whatever they are now, so nobody can see what you actually think or feel”. He let out a short chest laugh. Probably sarcastic, but how would you know.
“Who would actually want to know what goes through my mind?”.
“I do, just told you”.
He looked down and played with the empty glass in between his fingers. It looked small in comparison.
“You don’t want to, believe me”.
“Are you afraid of letting people in?”.
“No, it’s not that”, he said, trying to let you know he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You ignored it and opened your mouth, but the words died in your tongue as he added, “please, don’t”.
“I wish I knew you better”, you said after a few more minutes of silence. You swore you heard a creaking foot on the stairs, peeping in the conversation. You ignored it; if Loki was to talk to you, he would also say it in front of Peter. Not like you had some sort of special bond, or even friendship. You kind of wished for it, though.
“Why?”. His knitted eyebrows showed how actually curious he was about that. He believed you. He was certain you were telling the truth, but he simply couldn’t put his head around it. Why would anyone want to know me better? What is it about me that you care? And you wished to know the reason, too. If you knew why you were so drawn to him, maybe you could’ve stopped yourself.
“I feel like I’m missing out on something”.
“Something like what?”.
“Something great”.
“There is no greatness in me, it’s all an act”.
“I know it’s all an act”, you said, referring to his whole I’m a God and you’ll kneel before me and I’m superior. “I don't mean that kind of greatness. You’re hiding the wrong things”.
“You’re not missing out on anything”, he insisted, and not for humility, but because he wanted to brush you off. Keep you away from him.
“Don’t you think we could ever get along? Friends, even?”, you pressured. You knew you shouldn’t have, but Loki didn’t take it badly. Instead, he finally looked at you, drawing a sad smile.
“I’m going back to Asgard after the mission. I don’t intend to make new friends”, he said, but a softness in his voice hinted he wasn’t being mean; simply stating the facts. Exactly as it should be.
“Why did you come only for this mission?”, you asked. You actually wanted to ask do you even have friends back there?, but you knew better.
“I owe Stark. I messed up and wanted to fix at least something with him. He’s not taking it too kindly, but I think he understands the intentions”, he explained, sitting back up on his chair and getting his eyes back on the city.
“A peace offering?”.
“More like an apology. Redemption, even”.
“Redemption? Do you see yourself as a villain to him?”.
He didn’t answer right away. Took his time to find the words.
“I wronged. I did things I shouldn’t have”, and then you realized, he wasn’t apologizing for the New York incident. It was personal. You even wondered, maybe… was he…? Was Tony actually the...? No, imposible. “I know helping out on a mission won’t cut it, but if I can at least be a little bit of help to his planet…”.
“May I ask what did you wrong him in?”.
“I tried to take over Midgard once”, he said, and you didn’t believe him.
“If you ask me, it’s not Stark’s place to accept that apology. He doesn’t own the planet, even though he thinks that”.
“Does he?”.
“He acts like such, at least. He has a big ego, but also a big heart. He’s the closest thing I have to a father”.
“I know”, and you weren’t sure what he had said I know to.
The night was kept awake with more small talk you wouldn’t remember the next day. You saw the sun rising from behind the buildings in silence, with a bad aftertaste of wine, takeout food and unspoken words that would stay just like that.
75 notes · View notes
juunnies · 4 years ago
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flower shop
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PAIRING ▸ kang taehyun x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ strangers to friends to lovers, college au, flower shop au, fluff, angst
WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity, death
SUMMARY ▸ kang taehyun never loved flowers this much until he met you. a flower shop was where you both met, but it was where you would always be.
PLAYLIST ▸ eternally by txt • where’s my love by syml
WORD COUNT ▸ 6626 words
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COME TO THINK OF IT, EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU REMINDED HIM OF FLOWERS. 
From the delicate features of your face; the sweet tone you used when you called out his name; your hands that felt so soft, almost like a petal; and the first day the both of you met in that little flower shop—Taehyun was constantly reminded of you whenever he passed by a flower. It wasn't pleasant in the slightest bit. In fact, he wanted to tear it all down. Your presence in his head were dark, filmy sheets that he couldn't bring himself to pull down.
Everything felt so calm; the soft sunlight that streamed through the kitchen window, the gentle hum from the open flame as Beomgyu, his roommate, boiled tea for them, and the plush blanket that Taehyun threw over himself as he curled up on the couch. If only Beomgyu would hurry up with the tea, then Taehyun wouldn't have to be left to brood alone.
His own thoughts were poison at this point—thinking about the shop, thinking about you, thinking about flowers. Loneliness wasn't good for Taehyun, nor was silence. He fought that loneliness like a storm yet all he needed was a distraction from his crushing thoughts.
"Tea's ready," Beomgyu called out groggily, his voice thick with sleep.
Taehyun wasn't the least bit surprised. He could hear him and Soobin playing video games all through the night. He would've yelled at them to keep quiet, but rather, the louder volume came from the silence of his own pounding memories.
Taehyun took the cup that Beomgyu handed him and let the warm steam rise up to his face. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, taking it all in.
"Long night, Gyu?" he asked, and the sarcasm was nearly undetectable if Taehyun hadn't raised a single brow at his roommate.
"Oh man." Beomgyu rubbed the back of his neck and took a seat next to him on the couch. "Were we that loud? I mean I was trying to calm Soobin down the best I could, but it was all over after he beat the high score."
"It's fine." Taehyun waved the matter off casually with his hand. "It wasn't your fault that I couldn't sleep."
Beomgyu frowned, peering at his friend through warm eyes that were clouded with concern. "Taehyun… you know you can talk to me about it, right? You keep it all pent up and act all strong about it, but I know you're crying into your pillow at night, and I know you clench your fist whenever we walk by that flower shop near the campus." Beomgyu exhaled shakily, and Taehyun could tell that he, too, was keeping all this pent up. "You're my best friend, and seeing you like this—well, it hurts."
Taehyun understood all too well. He saw it when he looked at himself in the mirror. The dark bags under his eyes were a dead giveaway, but what scared him was how empty he looked. Some days he couldn't even recognize the person he was looking at.
Smiles became painful and laughs were a sound he didn't feel like he was capable of making anymore. Taehyun tried not to look at his reflection; he hated it. When he did, though, the storm would start with a slight quiver in his lower lip. His hands would start to shake and then sobs would rack his body.
Taehyun looked at Beomgyu in the eye and felt immense guilt. He and Soobin had been worrying about him and Taehyun did nothing to ease their troubles. He didn't speak much to Hyuka these days as he was in a different dorm, but Beomgyu and Soobin would often keep him updated about Taehyun’s condition. Taehyun did miss the days when they'd all hang out, but he felt incapable of experiencing that joy. All he could feel was creeping dread that darkened each waking hour, that made him feel drained each time he had to drag himself out of bed.
"Gyu, I appreciate it. I really do," Taehyun replied, sipping the black tea. He loved the tea that Beomgyu would always make for him; the creamy texture and sweet buttery overlay always calmed him down. "I just really don't know how to move on."
It had been so long that Taehyun didn’t know if he was ever going to move on.
Taehyun could see in his best friend’s eyes that Beomgyu held onto every single word he uttered. "I know, Tae," he told him, "but you don't have to keep it all in. Let it all out to me, to your friends. You can lean on us."
“I just don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden,” Beomgyu said firmly, a little louder. “If you were a burden, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I wouldn’t be waking up every morning to make you your favorite tea. I wouldn’t be begging you to let me support you.”
A spark of hope flickered in Taehyun’s eyes. He stared back down at his tea and shut his eyes, letting the steam lick the curve of his cheeks and travel up to his eyelids.
"I'll talk," he decided.
Beomgyu’s face lit up and he set his tea down on the table. He jolted up, fumbling with his pant pockets to search for his phone. "I'll call the others to come here tonight as soon as they can," he said with a grin and grabbed his bag. "Are you coming to class today?"
"I think I'll just skip today."
"Again?" Beomgyu asked, his eyebrows knitting into a frown. "Can you keep up with the coursework like this?"
Taehyun nodded, leaning back against the couch. "Of course. I've been getting all my assignments in, and Hyuka texts me what I missed in the lectures."
Saying Hyuka’s name left a bitter taste in Taehyun’s mouth; he regretted not communicating properly with all of his friends, but it stung more as Hyuka was the one who would record lectures for him, take extra notes, and keep him up to date about quizzes and exams.
All Taehyun did in return was push him away.
"I gotta get to class but I'll see you in the evening, Taehyun." Beomgyu waved goodbye with a soft smile and Taehyun returned it with his own wave just before his best friend walked out the door.
Taehyun got up with a deep sigh and made his way to the kitchen to put his cup in the sink. He set them on top of a few plates that were piled up amongst other dishes and rinsed them with water.
A small flower pot sat on the windowsill. There was a sprouting bud that looked nearly about to bloom. Taehyun frowned and gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, yet he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the plant. The sigh that escaped his lips held a plethora of emotions that he couldn't seem to tell if it was bittersweet or not.
Everything led him back to you.
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The sunshine seemed to be extra resplendent on the day of Taehyun’s fateful encounter with you. He was in a flower shop, picking up some flowers that Soobin needed for his visit to his mom's house that evening (he was busy with an exam and couldn't make it, so he sent Taehyun instead). It was then when he saw you through a bouquet of lilies, the sunlight bouncing off of your sleek and shiny hair. He had to tear his gaze away from you, but he was too late.
You saw him.
He expected you to be flustered or shocked, but, instead, a wide smile crossed your face. There was a mysterious glint in your eyes and instantly, Taehyun was intrigued. Should he talk to you? Taehyun wasn't very experienced when it came to flirting. Rather, he didn’t even need to do it most of the time; he just let his eyes do all the work, but all of a sudden, he felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe.
"Looking for something?" the shopkeeper asked him and Taehyun nearly tripped over his feet trying to turn around to look at the man.
He didn’t look much older than Taehyun but carried himself with more confidence and grace. He was attractive in a bookish sort of way, wearing a thick cardigan and had glasses pushed up onto his head. His selling point, however, were his full lips, and he seemed to know exactly how to draw attention to them, whether it was intentional or not. Although he wasn’t smiling with those lips, his eyes showed it quite radiantly.
"I—no, I just—uh..." Taehyun stammered and rested his arm on the counter cooly, but nearly tipped over a flower vase while doing so. He managed to catch it just in time and set it back quickly, letting out a shaky breath. "Sorry," he mumbled and heard a giggle from behind. It was the pretty girl and oh was he embarrassed.
"It's alright, dude," the shopkeeper replied, chuckled, and sharply glared at the pretty girl. "Y/N, don't laugh at customers."
So that was your name.
"Sorry, Yeonjun!" you apologized in a cheery voice. Everything about you was so eccentric that Taehyun wondered how he was keeping up with your energy. "He's just so adorable." You laughed a little while a red tint started creeping up his neck.
Yeonjun rolled his eyes, shaking his head at your antics. “Sorry about my little sister,” he apologized to Taehyun.
He saw the resemblance between you and Yeonjun. They both had a warm personality and an incandescent smile that lit up the store. Rather than the flowers setting the ambiance, it was them. But you were so eccentric and so full of energy that Taehyun couldn’t even fathom matching up to. He was still reeling over the fact that you had called him adorable right in front of your brother.
Taehyun’s words were failing him as he helplessly stared at you, opening his mouth once and then closing it. He felt pathetic but turned back to Yeonjun instead. "I'm here to pick up Choi Soobin’s order," he said, showing him the receipt.
"Right… ah, yes, I remember," Yeonjun recollected. He looked at it and then reached under the counter, placing a vase full of roses in front of Taehyun. And another. And another. And another.
Why on Earth did Soobin need four vases? Taehyun thought in exasperation and mentally noted that this would be the last time he was going to be doing a favor for Soobin.
"Do you live close by?" Yeonjun asked, much like a protective guardian, noticing how distressed Taehyun looked as he stared at the flower vases.
"Yeah, I go to the college here so I live in the dorms right down the street," Taehyun replied, sandwiching one of the vases between his arm and side in preparation to hold all four.
"Oh, Y/N, why don't you help him carry a few of those," Yeonjun insisted and his little sister came rushing right over, scooping up two of the vases.
Holding the two vases in your arms, you looked up at Taehyun curiously. The sunlight caught on the tips of your lashes and reflected yellow flickers in your eyes. Taehyun was transfixed, and a bit horrified that he was so mesmerized. You laughed a little—a harmonious sound that was stuck in his head now.
"How long are you gonna keep staring?"
"Oh, sorry," Taehyun muttered quickly, embarrassed, and scooped up the remaining vase. "Erm, thank you very much for your help." He nodded toward you and Yeonjun, who smiled in response.
"Thank me after I've helped you," you replied with a grin, gesturing for him to lead the way.
"Oh, right—yes, okay," Taehyun rambled in a quiet, nearly inaudible voice before he headed out the door with you following right after him.
He led you down the sidewalk, moving to make sure you weren’t on the side of the road. You seemed to pick up on Taehyun’s pathetic attempt at being a gentleman and raised your brows at him, impressed. Taehyun, of course, was simply trying not to royally screw up one way or another in front of you. He glanced at you and couldn't stop thinking about how he wanted to get to know you better and maybe change that morbidly awkward first impression he gave off.
"I didn't catch your name." You interrupted his thoughts with a glowing smile that made him almost freeze in his tracks. Taehyun had to remind himself to keep walking—one foot after the other. "I heard a Choi Soobin somewhere, but I'm guessing that's not your name."
He smiled a little, realizing how dangerous and how contagious that smile of yours was. "It's Taehyun. Kang Taehyun."
"I'm Y/N," you greeted in a sing-songy voice that reeled Taehyun in.
You had some distinct charm that drew people in and made it so easy to talk to you, but Taehyun was just a touch shy all of a sudden. He wasn’t like this. It was all so new to him.
"You go to the university here?" he asked you.
"I do, and I'm assuming you’re also a student considering you live in the dorms."
“Yeah.” Taehyun scoffed a little. “My scholarship only covers my tuition, not housing, so I’m rooming in a triple.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why don’t you live in the dorms?” he asked, and quickly added, “Oh, you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
“No, you’re good,” you replied, the smile on your lips daring to fall apart, but you kept your composure well. "I don't have much money, so all the money I get for college is from scholarships and the funds from the flower shop. We make it work, though!”
Something about how innocent your tone was horrified Taehyun. He knew that some students struggled financially, but he couldn't imagine how you could pay off your college funds from that small flower shop. It was the hope in your tone that crushed him, though. Your positivity was overwhelming to the point that Taehyun wasn’t sure if he felt defeated or inspired.
"I'm sorr—"
"No, don't say it." You shook her head and silenced Taehyun with a raise of your slender finger. "I don't like pity, and I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me," you finished stubbornly.
Taehyun stayed quiet for the rest of the walk back to the dorms.
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Taehyun stayed awake throughout that night, replaying your words in his head. He didn't understand it, but perhaps he wasn't supposed to. He didn't have financial struggles, so what could he possibly understand? All he knew was that he wanted to help you, and so he did.
Every day, Taehyun headed to the flower shop right after his lectures were over and he'd buy some flowers, avoiding Yeonjun’s nagging questions about why on Earth he was buying so many flowers. He decided to routinely place the flowers at random people's doors. Of course, it took a lot of setting his pride aside, but Taehyun wanted to do something good.
Maybe it would brighten someone's day, he thought.
He began working at the flower shop. He loved it there. He got to see you tend to the flowers and was amazed by how delicately you handled them. He never imagined he'd become so close to you and Yeonjun, and it satisfied him; he wanted every day to be like this. He specifically requested for Yeonjun not to pay him and slipped all of his tip money into your apron.
“Yeonjun,” Taehyun called one day when he was sweeping the floor behind the counter. “You’re letting me take the holiday off to go home over break so why aren’t you closing shop?”
Yeonjun smiled, and Taehyun couldn’t help but think about how similar you were to your big brother. “The flower shop is my home.”
“What about your parents?”
“Our mom died giving birth to Y/N,” Yeonjun explained honestly. “Our dad ran off after that and left us with our grandparents. I guess we could go spend the break with our grandparents but they’re not so big on the holiday.”
While Yeonjun sunk deep in thought, Taehyun pondered over his words. If you ever struggled with your past, you certainly never showed it. While it was admirable, it worried Taehyun. Yeonjun, however, had said in the past that optimism was simply wired in you.
Taehyun and you made hanging out a daily thing. After leaving flowers at random houses, Taehyun would go back to the flower shop and pick you up to go to a coffee shop. You would talk for hours, laugh, and go on a walk afterward. It was fun, but Taehyun felt like something was always missing.
When they'd drink coffee, he'd want to gaze into your eyes; when they'd talk, he'd want to discuss a future that they could possibly have together; when they'd walk, his hand itched to entwine with yours; when you would laugh, he wanted the world to stop just so he could listen to the melodious sound that resonated.
It was getting bad because Taehyun’s heart would clench when he imagined spending his days without you.
Months brought you both closer. Before, Taehyun wanted to know everything about you in an instant. He wanted an arsenal of knowledge just on you, but then he realized the value of learning more and more about someone slowly over time. He savored your deep conversations over the phone and late-night texts because he was vulnerable at night and allowed himself to open up to you. So, it wasn’t long before the both of you became inseparable.
But Taehyun didn't realize that his feelings for you were more than just a close bond. A late night conversation with Hyuka confirmed that he had feelings that surpassed the realm of friendship. Sure, he knew he liked you. A lot. But his true feelings for you ran deeper than that, deeper than a friendship or a silly crush.
"You care about her a lot, don't you?" Hyuka asked him one night while they were both sitting on the couch, watching some re-run episode of a show Taehyun forgot the title of.
"Hm? What's this?" Soobin asked, walking into the room with a soda can in his hands. "Is Taehyun finally admitting he likes Y/N?"
"Of course I like her," Taehyun replied, rubbing his temple with two fingers. His head felt like it was spinning in turmoil. He didn't understand why his feelings were so strong, and he was a little scared to find out. "But this isn't just like and admire. This is more than that, but I just can't explain it."
"You love her," Hyuka said. "Isn't that right?"
Love.
The word was so precious, so fragile, that Taehyun could hardly bring himself to utter the word. Yes, it was the brilliant smile you gave him, the twinkle in your eyes, the softness of your hands, the hardworking side of you, the stubborn side of you, and the caring side of you—he loved it all. Taehyun wanted it all. He wanted to grow old with you and keep you safely at his side. He wanted to be someone that you could confide in and someone who could help you not suffer anymore.
"I love Y/N," Taehyun whispered, and then repeated it with a newfound confidence, "I love her."
Hyuka and Soobin observed their best friend in silence, a small smirk crossing their lips. They found it adorable that a girl managed to capture the heart of Kang Taehyun. A happy sigh escaped Hyuka’s lips as Taehyun got up to go to his bedroom and reflect on his revelation.
"Look at him go." Soobin sighed wistfully, like a proud parent.
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The night before Taehyun decided to confess, he could hardly stay awake. He could only imagine every single scenario that could play out following his confession. He was certain he wouldn't be able to create some over-the-top proclamation of love that would make you swoon, but he was certain he would get his feelings out to you.
The rest was up to you.
He thought of your angelic smile. How could someone even look so heavenly? Whenever he saw you wearing that cream-colored sweater while working at the shop, Taehyun just wanted to reach out and hold you in his arms.
Taehyun was hardly ready the moment he was about to confess to you. He had brought you to a bridge overlooking a lake and was clutching the metal railing so tight that the paint was starting to flake off. He wished that the ground underneath him would disappear so that he could fall into some figurative void, but he knew that he had to do this. It was now or never for Kang Taehyun.
"Yes," you said suddenly and Taehyun’s eyes widened.
He opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated this a few times while he tried to grasp the situation. He was in disbelief—did he confess already or not? Before Taehyun was about to ask something stupid, he realized you were on the phone with Yeonjun, letting him know when you would be home. His cheeks flushed and he looked down at the lake to hide the deep blush across his cheeks.
"Sorry, were you saying something?" you asked, turning around to look at him with a smile.
He swallowed hard and shoved his shaking hands in his pockets. Kang Taehyun didn’t fear many things in life, but the weight of what he was about to do was getting heavier and heavier. It was just him and her, and no one else.
"Y/N," he began a little shakily, but regained his courage quickly, "I think I've been captured by you ever since the moment I met you. But lately, my feelings have been growing stronger. I didn't really understand it at first but whenever I look at you—just look at you—I feel so immensely happy."
"Taehyun—" you began softly.
Taehyun cut you off. He needed to finish. He needed to let out the feelings he had been suppressing. The feelings that made his heart ache and his stomach flutter.
"I can't—I can't think when you're around. Everything escapes me, even the world, and it's just you. I—it feels like I can't speak. I can't breathe."
"Taehyun," you whispered, but it didn't sound like you wanted to stop him. You just wanted to call out his name, and oh, how he loved it when you said his name.
"I love you," Taehyun stated clearly, a slightly agonized expression on his face. "I've loved you for so long and I didn't—I couldn't tell you."
You looked like you were at a loss of words and Taehyun’s stomach dropped then and there. You simply stood there as if Taehyun’s words had pinned you in place. Did he screw up? Did he make you uncomfortable? He knew the confession would go one of two ways, but he was really hoping you weren't actually going to reject him.
While Taehyun used his words to get his feelings across, you used your actions. You threw yourself into his arms, catching his lips in a gentle kiss. Every thought, every sense of moral in Taehyun’s head exploded into flashes of white, and he had to fight back the dark curl of desire that twisted in him.
It was calm and gentle, yet a violent storm all at once. Taehyun didn't understand how a simple kiss could draw so many emotions from him and extract so much passion. He pulled away first in disbelief, his eyes drifting to your lips as he tried to catch his breath. An overwhelming burst of happiness filled him to the rim and he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your hair.
"I love you too," he swore he heard you whisper softly next to his ear.
And so, his relationship with you kicked off. You were both happy and content, and Yeonjun was surprisingly supportive of the new couple. In fact, he had coyly mentioned that he had seen it coming. Taehyun’s friends congratulated him during a night filled with drinks and laughs, and Taehyun discovered about the running bet they had on when you two would get together. There wasn’t anyone in his life that didn’t know he was dating you. After all, he walked hand-in-hand wherever he went with you.
He finally got to hold your soft, delicate hands.
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"We should travel together," you said one night while you were star-gazing with your boyfriend.
Taehyun turned to look at you and saw the reflection of the constellations in your glittering eyes.
"Where would we go?" Taehyun asked, moving his hand up to stroke your hair gently.
You smiled and closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. "France? Amsterdam? Greece? It doesn’t matter."
Taehyun chuckled. "I don't mind what we do or where we go. I'm sure we'll have fun as long as we're together."
You and Taehyun gazed into each other's eyes. He saw a future with you in your sparkling eyes. He saw them getting married, moving in together, and having kids. He saw them growing old together and playing with their grandkids in their house.
"You're right." You grinned and then your smile faltered. "I have something I need to tell you."
Taehyun raised a brow. "Go ahead."
"Yeonjun told me about you working for free. The extra tip money I've been finding in my apron is from you then, right?" you asked and rolled over onto your side to look at him. "Why are you doing this, Tae?"
"I love you, Y/N," Taehyun murmured. "I don't need the money. I just want to help you out."
"I appreciate it, I really do. I'm going to get a job, Taehyun. After college. I'm going to make enough money to support us and Yeonjun."
Taehyun grinned and cupped your cheek in his hand, pressing a chaste kiss to it. That was what he loved about you. You always looked for the good in every situation and stayed positive even with the world weighing you down. You never gave up.
"I believe in you."
The two of you laid down on the picnic blanket that night and talked about worlds from their dreams and futures imagined and unimagined. You vowed to be a better parent than your own parents. Taehyun agreed that he'd always put family first. The two of them looked up into the starry night sky and imagined futures that they'd spend together.
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It was the day of your one-year anniversary when Taehyun waited at the park, shivering because of the cold. The tip of his nose was red, his ears were practically frozen, and his toes were curled in his shoes. He was holding a bouquet of lilies and a surprise he bought for her. Taehyun wasn’t one to go big on anniversaries, but you were important to him.
You were supposed to be here any second now, and the only thing keeping Taehyun occupied and sane were the texts from his friends, cheering him on. He had an odd feeling that they were stalking him, but he shook it off. Even if they were, they would leave with disgust all over their faces the moment he leaned in to kiss you.
Taehyun couldn't stop smiling to himself. Lilies were perfect; it was like their flower. He was eager to see your reaction.
"Help!" someone cried. "Call 911—!"
Taehyun frowned. The strangled voice sounded close by. He rushed over quickly to see what all the commotion was about. He didn't want to leave the area he was waiting for you at, but he couldn't ignore something like this.
"Is everything okay? What's the matter?" Taehyun pushed past the crowd on the sidewalk to reach the center of the chaos.
He could hardly believe the sight in front of him. You were laying in the middle of the street, blood pooling around your limp body. Paramedics rushed toward you and, after checking your pulse, started performing CPR. It started from his toes, but Taehyun started to shake, slowly, and then violently.
"Y-Y/N?" he croaked out in a soft voice.
"I told her to stop," Taehyun overheard a bystander telling someone else, "but she didn't seem to hear me. She was in such a rush that she ran into the street without even realizing that the signal was still green."
“Did they call her family?” someone else asked.
As if on cue, Yeonjun ran out into the street, face settled in shock and body shaking with heavy sobs. A few policemen had to hold him back while he screamed, “That’s my sister!” in the most painful cry Taehyun had ever heard.
Yeonjun’s teary eyes met Taehyun’s and drifted to the bouquet of lilies he was holding. Frozen in place, Taehyun opened his mouth to say something, only for his voice to fail him as tears slipped down his cheeks and onto the delicate flower petals. Yeonjun surely blamed him for what happened to you. There was no way he would look at Taehyun the same way again.
He stayed there, some hopeful part of him begging for you to be okay, but Taehyun then heard the words that ended it all: "She's dead."
The world sounded waterlogged. Taehyun found himself kneeling on the ground, yet he didn't know how or when he got there. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stared blankly at his girlfriend's lifeless body. The light faded from your sparkling eyes, making them dull and hollow. It was probably the most chilling, haunting sight he could have ever witnessed. Your soft hands were probably cold now. You would never laugh again. You were gone.
This wasn't how love stories were supposed to go. This wasn't how your love story was supposed to go. It was all a mess. It was unfinished. Broken. Torn. Gone. Forever.
He couldn't even tell you anymore that he loved you. That he wanted to be with you forever. The little black box in his pocket was useless now. Even if he screamed it from atop the highest building, you’d never hear him again.
Taehyun dragged himself over to your body and sucked in a harsh sob. "Y/N! Get up! Please, please, please… please get up!" He choked on his words and broke down in tears.
Yelling, even in your death. If you were alive, you would have laughed in hysteria and found it stupidly hilarious. You would wipe his tears and tell him that "it's okay" and that you love him, because you care far too much about him.
"Stay with me, Y/N, stay with me," Taehyun cried out, though he knew he wouldn't get any response. He felt a hand squeezing his shoulder but ignored it. "You—you said we were going to have a future together." His voice cracked and the tears started to blur his vision. "I brought… I brought you lilies.”
Taehyun dug the heels of his palms against his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath. "Shit, shit, shit, shit—" he hissed, finally screaming out in pain and agony like a wounded dog.
Taehyun felt himself being lifted to his feet and looked to see Soobin and Beomgyu hoisting his arms over their shoulders and dragging him out of the scene. Hyuka walked beside them to the dorms, not meeting Taehyun’s eyes as they felt a sharp stab with each sob that came from him.
"No, no, no…" Taehyun mumbled. "Gyu… Hyuka, please... I need to check on Y/N. I need to see her, I need to—please…" he whimpered. "I need to see her. Please? Soobin?"
They were too afraid to tell him the truth. Deep down, Taehyun knew, but he couldn't bring himself to accept it. A disgusting feeling of regret harrowed him and made him feel physically ill. He doubled over the moment Beomgyu and Soobin set him down in his dorm room. Hyuka caught him and helped him onto the couch.
I should have picked her up. I should have given her more time to get ready. I should have looked out for her. I should have paid attention. I should have been there. I should have protected her.
Each phrase he repeated in his head made him cry even more. Regret bubbled up in Taehyun and held him in a vice. It felt worse than heartbreak, like losing your other half. Taehyun had always felt a tightness in his chest around you, but now that tightness physically hurt him. It wasn’t dreamy and giddy like before, it was mournful and upsetting.
"Breathe," Hyuka said slowly, "long and deep."
Taehyun took a ragged breath and tried to calm down. He felt hollow, incomplete, missing. His vision blanked out with an array of black spots and a pounding rush of blood to his head. Slowly, the realization that you had just died in front of him had hit him again, and he started to cry again. It was less violent this time and more painful. He cried in mourning for her future that had just slipped away—their future.
"Taehyun, talk to us." Hyuka rubbed his back.
Taehyun swatted his hand away coldly and got up, backing away from them. "Don't—don't…" His voice cracked again and he hurried away, getting in his bed and pulling the blankets over his head, yet, he couldn't find any warmth in that either.
You were gone and took a part of him with you.
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He loved your smile. Your radiant, glowing smile that lit up the room. He loved those sparkling eyes full of hope and joy. Months had passed, but Taehyun still couldn't bring himself to get over you, and he didn't think he ever would. You would forever live in his heart, never fading, forever young.
Taehyun only went outside the dorm when it was to visit your grave. On the day of your funeral, he was allowed to keep lilies on your casket, so they were lowered down into the ground with you. He continued to bring lilies for you whenever he'd visit your grave.
Taehyun walked along the street and tried to force the bittersweet memories of your walks in the city out of his head. He headed up the hill to the graveyard and stood in front of your grave. It became routine for him to replace the withering lilies with fresh ones to honor your memory.
"Y/N, I love you so, so much," he whispered, "but I can't keep hurting the ones I love like this. I need to move on but Y/N," his voice broke and he furiously wiped at the tear that dared to spill, "how do I do that?"
The silence didn't answer Taehyun’s question but gave him time to answer it for himself. You wouldn't want him crying for the rest of his life over you. You would want him to find a reason to be happy and live the rest of his life. He could at least do that for you so that you could smile brightly down on him from the Heavens.
Taehyun headed down the hill and eyed the flower shop at the corner of the street. He hesitated, but he knew he couldn't avoid Yeonjun forever. He walked toward the shop and opened the doors. Yeonjun still had that lost look in his eyes, but he seemed to be doing a lot better. The last time Taehyun had seen him was over half a year ago, and he looked rattled and hollow back then. The light seemed to be returning to Yeonjun now.
"Taehyun?" he called, shock clear in his voice as he moved away from the counter and toward him.
"Yeonjun, I’m… I’m sorry," Taehyun choked out and rubbed his eyes, a quiet whimper escaping his lips at the end.
“Are you still blaming yourself?” Yeonjun’s voice was low now. “Y/N’s death is still hard for me, but she’d want us to be happy.”
Taehyun frowned. “She just meant so much to me.”
“I know.” Yeonjun’s voice was firm. “You lost your girlfriend, but I lost my little sister, Taehyun.”
Taehyun was silent. He felt his heart seize at Yeonjun’s words. Their parents were out of the picture to begin with, but you and Yeonjun always had each other. Now, with you gone, Yeonjun had to let go of the future he was building with you.
“I’m sorry.”
Yeonjun softened at his words. “Healing isn’t linear, Taehyun,” he reassured. “You can take as long as you need to grieve, but you have people who care about you, okay? Lean onto them. They want to help, and I think you’ll be a lot happier if you accept it.”
Taehyun nodded, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. He knew more than anyone else that he had been pushing away his best friend’s attempts to comfort him for far too long.
Yeonjun walked back to the counter and then came back with a small box in his hand. "Y/N must have loved you a lot," he said and opened the box, displaying a silver ring, "she saved up all her tip money to propose to you."
Taehyun stared at the ring in disbelief and his eyes stung as Yeonjun slipped your ring onto his finger. Suppressing a choked sob, he pulled out his own box from his pocket and showed Yeonjun the ring he had gotten for you.
"It looks like we both had the same intentions."
Taehyun laughed a little through the blinding tears and let Yeonjun pull him into a hug. They stood there, embracing each other because they only had the other in remembrance of you. Yeonjun was the last living memory Taehyun had of you; he was like his own older brother, and he wanted to protect his happiness.
"Jun, let me work here again, please," Taehyun requested, glancing at the flowers around him, his eyes flitting to the lilies.
Yeonjun squeezed his shoulder, mustering a smile. “Of course. You’re always welcome here.”
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Taehyun almost forgot about the interrogation awaiting him when he walked back to his dorm. After the talk with Yeonjun, his head was in the clouds, swimming in pools of thoughts. He was still reflecting on Yeonjun’s words, still trying not to blame himself. It was hard not to when Taehyun kept regretting every three-word phrase he never said and every kiss he never pressed to your cheek.
When he opened the door to his dorm, Taehyun was greeted by his friends sitting in the living room. They were leaning back on their hands and watching some low-rate horror movie. When Taehyun walked into the living room, however, Beomgyu reached for the remote and turned it off.
"What are you…?"
Hyuka grinned at him. "Gyu told us you were going to talk."
Soobin and Beomgyu scooted to the sides of the couch so that Taehyun would have room to sit in the middle. He glanced at all of them, a light sigh escaping his lips when he saw the eagerness in their eyes. He knew he couldn’t keep pushing them away. Not anymore. Not ever.
And so, Taehyun told them from beginning to end about you, about the future they were going to have, and about all the flowers around you.
324 notes · View notes
jimlingss · 4 years ago
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Moirai [7]
Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 [Finale]
➜ Words: 6.6k
➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU
➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.
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         ❇ Royal Romances Chapter 3 -Prince Route- ❇   The darkness is pitch black. It’s heavy. Comforting. Eerie. All at the same time.   Anastasia lurks within the shadows, looking both ways with a flickering oil lamp carried in hand. She darts her head down the long corridor and when there isn’t a soul in sight, she sneaks past the archway before pressing her palm against a stone brick behind a marble pillar. There’s a shift, gears spinning and the wall pulls back and to the side, tucking itself in.   She enters through the hidden passageway and the wall seals itself shut again as it never opened.   The cobblestone spiral stairs are dusty and dank without a single window. She cringes and bats her hand in front of her nose, damning him for choosing such an awful place to meet. Who knows what’s down here!   Ugh. A bastard son born will be a bastard life lived.    No amount of effort can make someone noble if they weren’t already born with it. She doesn’t know why she was expecting that man to be dignified.   “I didn’t think you would come so soon.”   The King’s bastard son stands at the landing of the stairs. The spiral staircase seems to descend further behind him, but she isn’t curious to where it leads.   “Hmph.” She turns away, lamp still in hand, and she pulls her shawl closer to her. “I already made up my mind. I want to get rid of that orphan whore, so I’ll do whatever it takes. She dares to try to seduce my fiancé when she doesn’t even know her place.”   The corner of Taehyung’s thin lips curl. “Then by all means, I’ll erase that problem for you.”   The Duke’s daughter turns and her eyes glimmer with intrigue.   The man reaches into the sleeve of his cloak and hands her a tiny vial of green liquid. An emerald jewel on the cap shimmers against the dim candlelight that casts their ominous shadows on the walls.   “It’s poison. One drop in the Empress’ tea cup and you can frame her for it. That’s all it’ll take.”   Anastasia smirks, a rush of air leaving her nose in satisfaction. It might be easier just to dip the tip of a dagger in and stab that wrench with it, but framing her would make Jungkook lose his trust in the girl. He wouldn’t look at her twice. And she’d be executed without the real perpetrator ever being implicated in the crime.   She takes the vial, holding onto it carefully. Yet her eyes flicker up to Taehyung’s. “What’s in it for you?”   “All I want is the empire’s wealth.”   ….. .. .            ❇ Royal Romances Chapter 7 -Prince Route- ❇   Punishment does not come in the form of her stripped title or even her head rolling away from her neck. Punishment arrives in the darkened loneliness. That loss of sanity that whisper she has failed to capture the attention of the only person she ever loved. That she failed to make him love her.   Everything she did, it drove him away.   Every act of love placed distance between them.   Everything.   Liberation comes back with the music of trumpets muffled by the stone walls. “What’s going on?” her voice is hoarse through her parched throat. The servant screams when her arm reaches past the bars to tug on the girl’s dress. Her eyes are bleary as she looks up at the girl. “Why is it so noisy?”   “T-The civil war’s over.” The girl backs away and the celebrations become more distinct with the realization. “The villain is dead.”   The girl withdraws into the cell and cackles rip through her lungs, resounding across the empty chambers. The servant scurries away as the knight huffs out through his nose and shakes his head. But it’s the best news she’s received since she’s been stowed away.    That bastard son — Taehyung.    He was a liar. He tried to kill her beloved Jungkook. He dared to try and replace him. But no amount of effort can make someone noble if they weren’t already born with it.    A bastard son born will be a bastard life lived.    She may have been condemned as his accomplice — she may have been used as his pawn, too blinded by her own affections to realize. But she is mad with joy that she will not die alone.    She can only hope he died a cruel and painful death.   Anastasia cackles again.
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You gasp.   Your entire body jolts and you tear yourself up into an upright position. The covers pool in your lap, your white nightgown stuck to your back slick with cold sweat. You press your palm on your forehead, focusing on studying your heaving breath. It was just a nightmare.   Or rather, it was scenes from the original game. The way it was supposed to be.   It felt so real. As if you were Anastasia and those choices and decisions were the ones you made.   The door opens and the maid entering is startled to see you already awake. “Good morning, my lady. It’s still quite early….”   There’s no way you can return to sleep after that. “Today’s a busy day so I’ll get ready now.”   The maid nods and follows after you to the vanity. “Lady Devon has a lilac gown prepared for you today, my lady. The late Queen wore the same colour during the inauguration of the last Head Priestess.”   “Shouldn’t everyone wear it then?”   “Of course not.” The young servant smiles as she runs the brush through your hair. “Only the future queen should.”   Pft. Yeah right. It’s a ridiculous idea that you would ever be queen. Anastasia never had the chance in any route or lifetime and you doubt you will either.   But rather than changing the dress like you normally would, your hand tightens in your lap.   “Bring it to me then.”   As the future Crown Princess, you’re dolled up by several maids. Your tutor paces back and forth, commanding the flurry around you on each of their actions, from a strand of your hair out of place to a loose thread sticking out. Your cheeks are powdered in a soft pink and your lips are painted in the same cherry blossom shade. You feel like a Barbie being dressed up and not in a good way. But thankfully, the dress is simple for the occasion and your hair is plainly clipped back on both sides.    It isn’t a ball after all where people are going to be flaunting themselves. The next two days marks the inauguration of the new priestess. It’ll be a day of celebration and then a day of solemn prayer and song at the empire’s largest cathedral.   Aka, it’s going to be boring as hell.   Once you’re free from outstretched hands touching your body and making sure you’re a photoshopped version of yourself without the photoshop, you head to the gardens for a breath of air. And also to escape Lady Devon’s lectures of how you should ideally behave.   But by now, you already know what she wants to say.   Don’t chew with your mouth open. Keep your back straight. Don’t back talk to your elders. Most importantly, don’t speak to Tae—   “Anastasia!”   The corner of your mouth tugs. “Lucy.”   You shouldn’t be so happy to see the heroine of this story. Not when her existence naturally opposes yours and you purely forged a friendship for your own self-preservation.   But somewhere along the way, you found that she’s the only female who doesn’t look at you any differently. She doesn’t smile just to make you happy. She doesn’t call you just because she has something to gain. Unlike so many others, you know she has no intention of using you.   The girl doesn’t have ulterior motives. Unlike you.   “Good morning.”   “Morning.” You meet her between the bushes of peonies on the cobblestone path. “What are you doing here so early? The play doesn’t start for another three hours.”    “I didn’t want to be late, but I guess I came earlier than expected.” Her smile is sheepish and she lifts her arm, a single white lily held in her fingertips. “I saw this on my way here. I heard it was lucky to have white lilies on the day of the Head Priestess’ inauguration ceremony, so…”   You take her gift. “Thank you.”   The petals are delicate and the fragrance is subtle enough that you lift it to tickle your nose. It’s then and there, while you’re twirling the stem with your fingertips, that you notice a gaze upon you.   By sheer coincidence and coincidence only, it seems like Taehyung was seeking refuge in his corner of the garden again and ran into you. The corner of his mouth lifts, distance kept yet he’s somehow close. You can’t pretend that he’s not there.   Your eyes have locked together.   Immediately, you grab Lucy’s hand and turn to her. “You have no one to accompany you to the Eastern Cathedral tomorrow, right?”   “Uh…”   Before she can answer, you take her to the dark-haired man and smile cordially at him. “Good morning, Your Highness.”   “Anastas—”   “This is Lucienne from the House of Liza.” You drag the girl to your side and she murmurs a timid greeting to him. “I’m sure the two of you must’ve met each other a few times. She has no one to accompany her tomorrow.”   “Anastasia.” Lucy shifts to you. She’s visibly uncomfortable, her brows knitted together, fingers rubbing the skirt of her dress. “It’s quite alright, I don’t need anyone to—”   “Nonsense,” you interject with another friendly smile. “It must be lonely to go by yourself. I’ll be busy with Prince Jungkook. It’s important that you get to know others as well. You shouldn’t latch onto the Prince all the time.”    She’s visibly taken aback at your insinuation. It’s not like you want to be so blunt, but there has to be no room for refusal. This is the only way.   It’s no longer about trying to avoid the three of them. It’s no longer about bringing Lucy and Jungkook together and remaining on the sidelines. If you want to save Taehyung too, you need to use the only person who can do so.   You’ll find other ways to save yourself.   But Taehyung needs her.   “I…”   Your voice remains firm. “You should go with Taehyung.”    Lucy is the heroine of this game. It’s possible that they can end up together instead. She can comfort Taehyung, change his mind about revenge, ease his suffering, rid his grief. She’s the only one who can clear the darkness stowed inside of him.   They don’t know it, but you do.   You push her towards him. The girl stumbles from the loss of her footing and he steadies her by her shoulders.   “S-Sorry!”   “It’s fine,” he brushes off quickly and then turns his head, eyes boring holes in you. “What are you doing?”   Taehyung holds his gaze, searching your impassive expression and the corners of your mouth pulls stiffly. “I’m just joining two people who I think really suit each other. Oh, look at the time! I should leave before I’m late for my morning greeting to my fiancée. I’ll leave the both of you to it then.”   You curtsy hastily and spin around to walk away.   But Taehyung is three steps ahead of you.   His strides are long and he overtakes you easily, stopping your form far away enough that it’s out of Lucy’s earshot. He grabs your arm, pulls you back and stares deeply into your eyes. His frown deepens.   “Is this because of what I did that night of the feast?” he asks in a quiet murmur that makes you swallow hard. You don’t want to be reminded of that. Not now. Not when you’re trying to pay back the favour of saving your life by saving his. “Anastasia, I meant everything I said that night. I meant everything that I was about to do—”   You interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore of it. It shouldn’t be this hard.   “It’s not that.” You stare directly into his pupils, unwavering in your gaze. “I have to go now.”   You brush past him and don’t glance over your shoulder, even when the temptation is overwhelming.   It really shouldn’t be this hard. You know the future. You know what’s entailed in their destiny.   But why does it seem like you’re making all the wrong choices.   //   Your knuckles rap against the surface. There’s a muffled ‘come in’ and you open the door.   Jungkook is getting ready in front of the mirror. His cape is being pinned perfectly on his back, navy blue jacket with ribbons and golden buttons making him look like the picture perfect prince of every Disney movie. It’s no wonder all the ladies constantly swoon when he passes.   To you, he’s always been that doe-eyed boy afraid of ladybugs. But marrying him wouldn’t be so bad. You’re sure it would be a good marriage. At least one full of respect and mutual understanding.   It would be better than half the marriages in the twenty-first century that ends in divorce.   Jungkook looks at your reflection in the mirror. “Anastasia. What brings you here?”   “I have matters to discuss, Prince Jungkook.”   “Very well.” He looks to the attendants beside him. “Please bring in refreshments.”   “There’s no need.” You quickly stop them and the man in front of you turns, visibly surprised at your rejection of sweets and tea. It’s the main reason why you come to visit each other after all. “This’ll be quick.”   They bow their heads and the doors shut a moment later, giving you and Jungkook privacy.   He pinches the hem of his sleeve. “Did you get in trouble with your tutors again?”   “Jungkook.” Your voice is solemn, your expression even more serious. He looks up and the corner of his mouth falls into a straight line. He follows you to the sofa and sits across from you.   “What’s the matter?” He’s frowning, worried about your changed demeanor.   You take a deep breath, bracing yourself. “We should solidify our engagement as soon as possible.”   Jungkook’s eyes widen. “W...what? Why so sudden?”    “Is it?”   “You’ve never been interested in being queen before.” His eyes narrow in on you and his brows furrow more. “Is this about the Duke and Duchess? Are they rushing you?”   “No.” You shake your head. “This is about me. It’s about us.”   “But this isn’t like you, Anna.”   “Why is it so surprising?!” Your voice is pitched and instead of anger, frantic desperation seeps in. You don’t know why everyone has to make it so difficult for you. “We’ve been engaged since our childhood! It’s only natural to move ahead. Who else are you supposed to marry—?!”   As the words come out of your mouth, it slaps you right back in the face: you’re falling into the same pattern as Anastasia.   Demanding the prince to marry you. Being blunt. Curt. Upset.   It’s so easy. It was as if your entire life was set up to be the villainess.   Oh god. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what the answer is. You don’t know what choice to make to wind down the best path—   “Anna!” Jungkook calls you for the fifth time in the midst of your meltdown.   You lift your head to find him sitting beside you, his hands firmly squeezing your shoulders. He’s asking you if you’re alright, if you need a healer or some rest to clear your mind. He’s saying how the two of you can talk about this later. But you don’t want later. It’s always been later.   Making choices now for later.   Making plans now for later.   Everything you’ve done is for later down the line and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to reap the benefits or find the happiness you were so desperate to have when you died the first time.   Now. You want someone to shoulder your burdens with right now.   “Jungkook, what if….what if I told you I was from another world and I know the future of this world?”   “What?”   You swallow hard and meet Jungkook’s doe eyes. He searches your visage, unable to comprehend where this is coming from, where you’re going with this. “What if...the only way to save Taehyung is through Lucy? The only way is if they fall in love and she saves him.”   He’s completely lost on that. “Taehyung? What does he need saving from? Who told you he needs to fall in love with her? What?”   Your mouth opens, but you don’t know where to start, how to explain, if he would even believe you in the end. “You just need to trust me, Jungkook. I know things you don’t.”   “I...don’t understand what you’re talking about.” There’s a simmering pause between the pair of you and Jungkook looks carefully at your profile. Then his lips part to speak forbidden words— “Are you in love with Taehyung?”   It’s your turn to be confused. Befuddled. Taken aback.   And Jungkook must read the expression on his face, since he replaces your speechlessness with his own voice. “Otherwise, why would you care so much about him? You’ve never brought anyone up to me before. Not even your own parents, Anna, and I know they make things difficult for you. I’ve never seen you care about anyone else more than you care about yourself.”   You rise to your feet in an instant and turn your back on the man.   “That’s impossible. It’s impossible.”   “Why? I thought you always told me it was okay if we ended up falling in love with other peopl—”   “I said it was okay if you did. Not me.” You don’t get such a privilege. Jungkook is the protagonist, the hero. No matter what route it is, which way the story goes, he always wins. He will always live. But you will either die or be casted away. “It’s different.”   Jungkook has nothing to risk. You have everything.   “Anastasia.”   “Don’t change the subject. I came to tell you that we should move ahead with the engagement. There is no reason you should refuse, Jungkook.”    You turn and leave the room, ending the conversation there.   He doesn’t know. He makes it sound easy. But you can never be with Taehyung.   The Crown Prince’s fiancée and the bastard son. What a pair that would be.   As long as you’re living in this world, in this society, any relationship deeper than an acquaintanceship would bring disaster. It’s not as simple as falling in love, calling off the engagement, eloping together far away. This isn’t a fairy tale. This isn’t a romance narrative.   It’s life. A society that scrutinizes and shames. A culture that slanders names with scandals.   The Devereux house will fail anyway and you don’t care about soiling your reputation and being outcasted. But the King would deem it treasonous. The royal family’s reputation would be marred and ruined, and he would never accept that. He was already unhappy when Taehyung danced with you at the debutante ball, when Taehyung handed you the Hunt’s prize, when Taehyung rescued you from being kidnapped. And you cannot risk your life and Taehyung’s like that any more than you already have.   Jungkook is terribly naive if he thinks it could ever work.   //   The royal court is lively with warm drums and bright flutes that echo throughout the capital.   Famous minstrels and troubadours across the empire have come to perform for the King, having made their way through the streets in the morning for the commoners as well. He smiles in approval from his throne, the middle-aged priestess to be coordinated tomorrow seated beside him and the pair look to be enjoying the show.   Your parents are no exceptions either, seemingly relishing in the festivities. They’ve brought Edith and Joan in tow as part of their entourage, faces you never thought you’d miss. The former nods her head at you in silent greeting and the latter smiles, but you don’t get a chance to speak to either of them. Not when your parents have kept their distance.   It seems like the last incident has made them rethink their involvement in your affairs. And for that, you’re glad you’ve been granted a little more freedom.   Marquess, earls, counts, viscountess and barons seated around speak to one another in between performing acts, sipping on their wine as the afternoon sets into evening. Once in a while, laughter sparks through the courtyard and thunderous applause succeed performances.   But unlike them, you can’t enjoy it.   In spite of sitting next to Jungkook and visibly smiling, the space in-between the pair of you is tense and stiff. Lucy sits a few rows down from where she is beside her father and you can tell she’s uncomfortable with what happened earlier by her expression that never seems to ease.   All of it would be easy to ignore. If not for Taehyung’s gaze.   He’s standing in the corner against the stone walls that line the courtyard, inconspicuous but not to you. A glance at a crowd and you could still pick him out in an instant. But he doesn’t watch the play, doesn’t watch the musical performances or the acrobatics twisting around. He looks at you. As if that alone could figure out your intentions, like he could deduct what’s in your mind.   You don’t spare him a peek. Even when it’s difficult to resist.   You avoid him until the very end.   //   The moon is full, a perfectly round sphere that’s golden. Like a firefly amidst the blanket of stars. It isn’t brighter than the sun, but not any less beautiful.   Taehyung stares up at the horizon and then his eyes stray to marble railings. He floats up to your balcony and his feet touch against the white, stone flooring. He won’t let you run away.   The room is dark, but he makes out a lump in the bed that’s turning and twisting. Taehyung knocks against the glass door and the figure freezes before it moves a moment later.   Within a minute, the door opens and you emerge into the golden moonlight. “Taehyung? What are you doing here? You’re not allowed to be here,” you whisper harshly, looking both ways of the castle grounds while tugging the white, laced shawl around your shoulders closer.   “I had to come see you,” Taehyung gazes into your eyes tenderly and he leans down to capture your hand gently in his. The skirt of your nightgown flutters in the warm breeze. “I know there’s something wrong. Did Jungkook do something? Did he say something?”   You shake your head.   “Then why push me away?”   You turn from him, ripping your hand away from his grasps. “I don’t know what you mean.”   Taehyung grabs your arm and your head whirls back to him, eyes connecting. “You know exactly what I mean.”   “I’m engaged.”   “To a person you don’t even love.”   Your eyes widen and your brows furrow. “You don’t know that.”   “I love you.”    It’s a bold confession spoken from his lips, his deep timbre that doesn’t lack any sincerity.    An earnest proclamation that has your heart stuttering in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat. Your heartbeat is thunderous in your ears and something stirs in the pit of your stomach at the sorrowful expression Taehyung looks at you with. He murmurs, “I was going to take that secret to the grave, but I can’t stand by and watch you like this. I love you. Be with me.”    Be with me.   A three word plea. Whispered secretly on a full-moon night. An affection full of warmth that you never had the privilege of receiving before in your past life or this life. Until now.   You never thought it would be like all those cheesy movies — Love Actually, Pride and Prejudice, the Notebook. But nope. They’re right. When you hear a love confession, when you hear someone say ‘I love you’ and ‘be with me’, it really does make you overwhelmingly happy.    It makes you want to cry. It makes you want to hug him, kiss him, throw your arms around him and scream ‘yes’. It makes you imagine the rest of your life, growing old with someone you love.   But you stagger away from Taehyung. No.   No. It can’t be. He can’t love you. No.   You aren’t Juliet. Elizabeth Bennet. Allie.   This isn’t your love story. You aren’t the main character. And this most certainly won’t have a happy ending.    Taehyung was never supposed to love Anastasia.    This is a mistake. An accident. Repercussions to your actions.   “Don’t mistake sympathy for feelings of love.” You surprise yourself at how stern your voice sounds, never once wavering. You suppose years of growing up in the Devereux household and being put under rigorous training allowed you to control your exterior well. “I don’t love you. You don’t love me, Taehyung.”   “You’re wrong.” He steps forward, closing the distance, as firm as you are. “I’ll even fight for the throne if you want. I’ll fight Jungkook if that’s what it takes for you to be by my side—”   “No!”    The scream echoes in your own ears, loud and shrill enough to bring alarm. “Please. Don’t. Don’t.”   It’s then and there, in the throes of his reckless promises, it slams into you — the realization of how desperately you don’t want to see Taehyung die.   You don’t want to witness his tragic ending. And you don’t want him to do it for you.   Taehyung’s expression is crumpled in anguish and his arm lifts, hand extending. The pad of his thumb tenderly wipes away the tear that’s streaked down your cheek. The corner of his mouth upturns, but the sorrowful smile never reaches his eyes. “Do you hate the idea of being with me that much that you’re crying?”   “No...Taehyung…”   He withdraws. “I’m sorry.”   Taehyung gazes at you and then he shuts his eyes, falling backwards off the balcony. You cry out in absolute terror and your legs lurch forward towards the railings. Your arms snap out to grab him, but your fists merely catch the passing wind.   He’s vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but traces of magic in the air.   You collapse onto the floor, grasping at the banister as sobs wreck through your body. “T-That’s...not...i-it—”   The matter of life or death should be simple. The choices should be easy. But you don’t know why each path you choose has its own tragedy, why happiness never seems to come.   Why can’t you control your own destiny?
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A wheeze tears from the bastard son’s mouth.   His ruined hands are wrapped around his silver staff until his bloodied knuckles have morphed white. But it’s his leverage, keeping him standing on his shaking legs. He may have lost but he refuses to collapse until his last breath has been taken. His pride won’t allow him otherwise.   “Why?”   He lifts his head and locks eyes with the impassive Prince, dignified and noble. A hero to all. A brother who he never deemed as a brother. Only in blood and never truly in name.    “Why did you do this?”   The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls. Even on the battlefield when they are both armoured and armed with weapons — in the moment of death — Jungkook is as oblivious and ignorant as when he was a mere child.    Taehyung spares a thought as to what it feels like to be that naive. He concludes it is a privilege.   “W-hy….d..o...you...think?”   The Forgotten Prince’s feet sinks into the mountain of brittle bones. He had to bring the dead back to life through necromancy to build an army for this war. No one would fight on his side after all. No one’s ever wanted to fight on his side.   But even so, he was never able to bring himself to revive his mother.   But it’s foolish he didn’t. She may have just been a marionette doll with tangled strings, a simple outer shell of a real human being, but he regrets not doing it. He should’ve.   Even if it was just to see her for a moment.   But it is a regret too late. He has another wish he wants to achieve in these last moments.   Taehyung chokes out that girl’s name.    He didn’t know he would have feelings for her. He was simply intrigued. Anything that belonged to his brother was always something worth envy. And he wasn’t wrong. She was a pawn on the opponent’s side who turned out to be more valuable than the queen.   “P-Please….” Blood curdles at the back of his throat, thickening his words into pathetic sputters. “Let me...see her….on.e….las...t….tim..e…”   “I’ll never let you see her.”    The Prince’s hands tighten on the handle and he rips the sword out of his abdomen in a single motion. The sound of silver cuts sharply through the air and Taehyung drops to his bruised knees. His own blood has splattered across his visage, scarlet drenched on ashy skin.   The Prince stands tall, the very furrow of his brows jarring against the cold, cordial expression he maintains. It’s an expression of contempt, of hatred and indifference. His shadow looms over him, the status he was born with intrinsic in his sheer presence.    “All...I...ever..wanted….was to be you. To be...powerful...to have everything you have.”    The Forgotten Prince rests against his staff and shuts his eyes. He ponders for a mere moment if he will be able to see his mother after this. But if there is such a thing as an afterlife, it’s still unlikely that fate would grant him such peace and refuge.   “I...d..idn’t...want….to...be...aban..doned…”   The remnants of magic surges through his veins and with a weak flick of his wrist, Taehyung’s last magic summons the girl who had occupied his thoughts. She appears in front of him, manifesting with his spell, and she screams.   Jungkook calls out to her and they embrace. He holds her, covering her body with his arm.   The two of them look down at Taehyung in fear and disdain.    But her vicinity is enough for him. He wonders when he became this pathetic. Or if he was always this way as their villain.   Taehyung chokes on the blood curdling at the back of his throat, but his lips upturn into a smile.    He mouths her name and dies at their feet.   ….   Anastasia.   You wake up with a gasp tearing from your chest. Your breath heaves out of you and tears coat your cheeks and the pillow beneath your head. Most of all, your chest fucking hurts like your heart’s about to burst. So you call for a maid at the top of your lungs and within seconds, someone scatters in.   “My lady?”    “Water,” you croak and she nods.   A glass is presented in front of you within moments and you down the entire thing, able to calm yourself down once you’ve finished. The maid notices your sweaty form and asks if you would like to change clothes, but you wave her off and she leaves.   Your worst fear came to life in a nightmare.   Instead of calling the heroine’s name, Taehyung called yours.   //   The ceremony at the Eastern Cathedral is exactly like all other events and celebrations in the castle.   Boring. Tedious. Like sitting in a lecture hall with the most unenthused professor droning on about the art of paint drying. Except you have to slap a friendly smile on you, sit straight, make small talk and pretend you’re intently listening. You wish cardboard cutouts were a thing, so you could just slap a picture of yourself in your seat instead of having to deal with it.   But the entire ordeal keeps your mind from wandering about last night.    There’s something about pretending that you’re fine that makes you feel fine after a while. Like you’ve tricked your own self into being okay.   You’re even anxious once it’s over. Once the quiet has settled back in.   Many of the guests leave, viscounts and countesses bidding their farewells from the cathedral and getting into their carriages. After you’ve sent off Lady Devon and you’re free of her scrutiny, you quickly turn around to find Jungkook and get out of here.   The last thing you want is to run into Taehyung right now. You don’t know if you’ll be able to manage your reactions, control your expressions.   But on your way back, your attention is taken by an elderly priestess dressed in white robes with a cane, hobbling around. Her hands are outstretched and she bats the air. She’s blind.   “Excuse me, do you need help?”   “Oh, yes, please, that would be wonderful.” She smiles and the tens of wrinkles on her face crease. The old lady reminds you of your grandma and the corner of your mouth quirks. You take her hand and place it on your arm, guiding her. “I’m usually not so clumsy but I lost my way and had to re-orientate myself. You can just bring me into the side house, it should be on the West side of the cathedral grounds.”   You look around and spot it around the building. “It’s this way.”   “Are you here for the ceremony?”   “Yes, I am.”   “How nice, Emelisse will make a fine Head Priestess. Her holy magic is quite powerful.”   You hum and get to the smaller building within two minutes. The doors are already open, so you peek inside to see if anyone’s there to take the old lady, but there’s no one. “We’re here.”   The Priestess reaches out and grabs the door frame. She smiles and gets up the steps herself, but not before turning around. “Thank you. Not many people would personally aid me in this day and age, and for that I’m thankful.”   “It’s not a problem.”   It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to speak so casually to someone. But it’s relaxing to forget about your titles. You don’t have to be the Crown Prince’s Fiancée. The future Queen. Or the heir of the Devereux house.   You’re just Anastasia. Y/N. A mix of both that makes you you.   “Would you be willing to hear an old secret in exchange for helping me?”   “Uhhhhh…..” You glance over your shoulder. There’s no palace guards or Jungkook in sight.   You really don’t want to stick around for too long. But you remember your grandma got pretty lonely towards the end of her life and was willing to talk to door-to-door salesmen for a good hour or two until they wanted to run away and blacklist the house from their list. Bless her heart.   You decide to indulge the old woman, so you go along with it. “Sure.”   “I once knew a woman, a kind but poor woman. She was with child,” her voice croaks and you lean in closer, realizing it’s juicy gossip and it sparks intrigue. “The father of that unborn child wasn’t very happy to know that child was coming into existence, so she, worried, came to see her fortune and her child’s on the eve of the Solar Festival.”   The old Priestess holds the handle of her cane with both hands, placed in the middle of her body. She faces the sky, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin as she continues the story.   “She came to this cathedral and they told her about doom and her child’s inevitable doom. Desperate and heartbroken, she begged to find a way to deviate from such a fate. She wanted to do anything she could to change the predetermined destiny of her unborn child.”   Your brows furrow. You begin to wonder why she’s telling you this. “And?”   “She did a ritual of dark magic to search for a soul that would protect her son.” The old woman shakes her head. “She defied the laws of destiny itself without knowing the pain it would cause.”   “But through sheer will, she broke it!” The Priestess smiles, her voice having been a murmur drawing you in. “She found a fitting soul and that soul was sent to another dimension before this one to learn about what was to come, so that they could protect her son.”   You stagger back. Breath caught in your throat. Blood draining from your face.   There’s no way. It can’t be.   But everything aligns. It matches perfectly.   “W-What happened next?”   The woman hums a low note and you realize too late that she’s the former Head Priestess, the one who had just stepped down. “I’m not quite sure what the ending to that story is since that soul wrapped in dark magic is standing right in front of me.”   The former Head Priestess smiles gently and turns around, entering inside her abode. She leaves you standing rooted to the ground on your own as it dawns upon you —   It was all on purpose.   Being reborn into this world. Having memories of your past life. Being burdened with the knowledge of what fates there are, what the future holds. All along, it was to serve your purpose: to protect Taehyung.   Your destiny was entangled with him even before this lifetime.    But you’ve already failed. You let his mother die. And now his own time is running out.   You turn around. The urge to see him overwhelms your very being. You have to tell him how you really feel. You’re not just Anastasia. You’re Y/N. And you won’t allow the original storyline to confine your choices anymore.   None of this was an accident. You weren’t messing anything up. None of your actions, your feelings or his are wrong. Nothing was a mistake. You’ll find a way to save Taehyung, to be with him.    You have to.   In the south courtyard of the cathedral, by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, you see him there. Of all the places of these vast grounds where he could be, you still found him.   “Taehyung!”   You call out to him and he turns at the sound of your voice. But then your smile falls. Your feet slow. By coincidence, an arrow soars towards him, slicing through the air.   You shout at the top of your lungs and Taehung whips his head around. The tip of the arrow freezes an inch away from his nose and clatters to the ground through his magic. But then five more arrows splits the sky and flies towards him. Taehyung dodges, stops another, but one catches him in the arm.   He sharply inhales.    A scream of his name tears from your throat.   Taehyung winces and rips the shaft of the arrow out of his skin. He looks at the tip before throwing it away. He can feel the poison spreading in his veins, bleeding inside of his body. It inhibits his magic and before he can yell at you to get away, another arrow spirals in the horizon.   He shuts his eyes. Taehyung feels an impact. But the pain never comes.   His eyes shoot open, brows knitting together and his mouth draws open when he sees you.    Your arms have wrapped around his body in a warm embrace, shielding him away, protecting him like you were meant to. The end of the arrow has pierced into your shoulder.    But you can’t feel it.   Taehyung shouts your name and you collapse. He holds your body in his arms, cradling your head against his shoulder as he screams from the pit of his stomach for help. And you watch him through foggy eyes, a smile gracing your lips.   You’re glad he’s not hurt.   Your hand slowly lifts to caress his cheek and he looks at you.   “I….fi..nally came….on time, Tae...hyung.”
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prismatica-the-strange · 4 years ago
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Have I Ever Told You I Love You? | Urushihara Hanzo x Streamer!Reader (Part 1)
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Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and idk if you can call this angst
Word: 1270
    During his short stint in the small apartment with two other guys, Lucifer managed to find his own little world in his laptop. While it wasn't capable of running the games he wanted he was able to enjoy them vicariously through various streamers.
        His favorite streamer was a pink-haired girl from California. He came across her stream late day when he was scrolling through Stitch (Twitch). He knew a little English from the research he'd done for Maou and Ashiya, it was rough, but through some Foogle Translate, he managed.
        The first time he made her laugh through a badly translated off-handed comment, he knew he was done for. He would do literally do anything to hear her laugh like that again. 
        She wasn't a super popular streamer but had a loyal following that made a tight-knit community. It wasn't hard for him to start a conversation with her, and so a friendship began.
        A handful of months later, the short interactions turned into late night text sessions, and he went to as many streams of her's as he could.
        "What in the world are you watching?" Ashiya asked him one day.
        "None of your business!" He growled.
        "I think it's that girl he likes," Maou said through a mouthful of noodles.
        "What are you talking about?!" He yelled, "Why would I like some human? She's just good at gaming!"
        Oh, but he liked her. He liked her a lot. 
        One night he got a notification that she was live, which was odd cause it was almost 3 am where she lived.
        The title of the stream was "I'm drunk and wanna play games!" He chuckled to himself and opened her stream.
        She was sat at her normal streaming setup, but her face was flushed and hair messy.
        She had 'Golf With Your Friends' up, one of the few games his crappy laptop could play. He then got a text from her that said 'Join us' with the room password and a little purple heart.
        He quickly pulled the stream up on his phone and loaded the game, wasting no time getting into the room.
        With his phone propped up next to him, he saw her face break into a big grin.
        "Angel boy!" She smiled, his username was FallenAngelxxx, but she thought it was cute when he got flustered when she called him 'Angel Boy'. "I'll send you the link to the Biscord server voice call." 
        He never even thought to make a Biscord account, so he quickly set it up, claiming the name Angel_Boyxxx.
        "Angel boy, you there?" She asked when he joined the call. They hadn't voice called before and she was almost anxious to finally hear his voice. 
        "Yeah, I'm here." He said thankful Maou and Ashiya were out for the night. After he started watching her, he used what little magic power he had left to help him learn the monstrosity that is English.
        "Hey," She breathed before someone else in the call made a vomiting noise. "Shut it, Pat!"
        "You guys ready to start?" Wade laughed.
        As the night went on, she kept a constant state of drunk causing giggles and stupid comments. 
        "Hey, Angel," She said an hour or so into their play session, as the others were AFK for a few minutes, "Have I ever told you I love you?"
        He froze mid-practice shot, causing him to miss what he was aiming at completely.
        "I love you so much," She giggled.
        "What's with him?" A voice said behind him as a door shut. "Urushihara? Why's your face so red?"
        She gasped excitedly, "Who's that, Angel?"
        "He's not sick is he?" Another voice said, "Jeeze we can't afford a hospital visit right now."
        "I-I-" He covered his mouth with his hand, his face bright red. "Why now?"
        He moved awkwardly and his headphones came unplugged.
        "Angel? You okay?" Her voice sounded almost concerned through the haze of alcohol. "Angel?"
        "Who's that?" Maou asked, looking at the screen quizzically.
        "Are you playing those damned video games aga-" Ashiya started.
        "It's no one!" Lucifer rushed, slamming the laptop shut, cutting off another 'Angel'.
        He grabbed his handheld game and sat in the corner, trying to hide his blush behind his hair.
        The other two men shrugged and started talking about the next day's plans.
        About five minutes later, Lucifer's phone began to ring. He managed to snatch it before Ashiya grabbed it.
        "Were you about to answer my phone?!" He nearly screeched, "Can a guy get any privacy around here?!"
        "As your superior, I need to know you're not talking to any undesirables," Ashiya argued.
        "You mean like you old farts?" He hissed, before stepping into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. 
        The phone had stopped ringing when he went to finally answered and he slouched against the wall, head hung low.
 ~~~~~~~
        He was so embarrassed that it took him two weeks to go back to another stream or even answer any of her texts. He barely even went near his precious computer and Maou and Ashiya were even slightly concerned. 
        She was busy in-game and missed his meek little 'hi' in chat, he sighed and cradled his head on his arms on the desk, eyes staring at the screen.
        When she paused to read chat, someone told her he was there, even going as far as to ping him.
        Her eyes lit up as she asked, "You still here Angel Boy?"
        He put a purple heart emoji in the chat and she smiled.
        "Where you been? I- we've missed you," She said as she went back to the game.
        FallenAngelxxx: Who missed me?
        He couldn't help but tease her about her little slip-up.
        She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his chat, "Shut up."
~~~~~~
        For the next three weeks, they texted every day, he was so distracted he even stopped ordering stuff. Until one day she never texted him her usual 'Good Morning Angel.' In fact, she never texted him at all that day and he was beyond worried. Sure she'd missed a couple of texts before, but nothing like this. He scrolled through their last conversation, wondering if he'd said something to make her mad.
        Ashiya watched him get more and more worried, "That girl you like not talking to you?"
        "No, she's not," Lucifer muttered from his place in the corner, just loud enough for Ashiya to hear. He was anxiously playing his handheld to take his mind off it.
        "Well, you probably did something in your own brand of stupid to upset her-" His roommate was cut off by a discord call on his computer.
        Lucifer scrambled to his computer, leaving his game unpaused on the floor.
        He glanced at the time as he answered the call, it was past 2 am for her.
        "His Majesty will be back soon, must you take a call instead of-"
        "I'll get to it later!"
        She chuckled as he tried to get his roommate off his back.
        "Hey Angel," She smiled, and his heart stuttered in his chest.
        "H-hey, where've you been all day? I... I was almost worried." He lied.
        "I-heh... Just a super busy day, I guess." 
        "You sound tired," He commented, "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
        "Don't wanna," She whined sleepily, "Help me stay up?"
        "Okay, you wanna play a game or something?" He scrolled through his Solar library for something to play.
        "Uh-uh, too tired," She yawned and he nearly 'aww'd, "Let's just talk for a while."
        "Y-yeah, okay." The other line went real quiet, "You still with me?"
        "Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm here," Her small sleepy voice was doing things to his heart.
        "So," She yawned, "How was your day?"
        "Boring," He scoffed.
        "Tell me all about it," She said, "I wanna know every detail."
        "Every detail?"
        "Yep. What did you do? What did you eat? What stupid thing did your roommate yell at you for? Did you play anything fun? I want to know all of it."
        "Heh, I uh..." He had no idea what to say, he definitely wasn't telling her he spent the whole day freaking out, "You know, I just played some stupid game on my handheld and slept. Ashiya was out most of the day, so he really only got on my case a few minutes ago."
        "That's it?" She almost sounded disappointed.
        "Yeah, just another boring day." He shrugged. There was a knock on her side and he could hear her adjust.
        "Ah, that'd be room service," She groaned as she got up, "Be back in a mo."
        "What? Roomservice?! Where in the Hell are you?"
        "What's up with you?" Maou asked right next to him, causing him to jump and let to a small yell.
        "What the Hell, man?! I didn't even hear you come in!" He shouted, "You can't just scare people like that!"
        "Who can't scare what now?" SHe asked through a mouthful of food.
        "No not you- It's just- It's nothing Maou just scared me is all." He stammered.
        "Oh. HI ANGEL'S ROOMMATE!" she yelled loud enough that Maou could hear it through the headphones, making Urushihara yank them off his head.
        "Uh... Hi, Urushihara's girlfriend?" Maou answered unsurely.
        "Wha- She! Sh-sh-She isn't my girlfriend!" Lucifer argued, putting his headphones back on to hear her bubbly laughter.
        "I'm not?" She giggled, "Well maybe I should be since everyone already thinks it."
        His face flushed bright red as he stared at the screen. "W-w... Really?"
        "Yeah, the guys make fun of me for it all the time. They even said that I told you I loved you on stream once, ridiculous, right?"
        "A-actually..." He trailed off. "You kind of... did. I was there."
        It was quiet again.
        "N-no one clipped it?" She said in disbelief. Someone had actually clipped it, and he had it on his phone. Every once and a while, he would play it and his heart would do somersaults.
        "Well, no taking it back now," She chuckled. "Guess the cat's outa the bag."
        His jaw dropped.
        "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies," Ashiya teased and Lucifer threw a magazine at him. "That was uncalled for!"
        Lucifer grabbed his laptop and stormed out to the hallway. 
        With the door closed, he set his computer on the washer.
        "You love me?" He asked, trying not to sound completely desperate, unaware of Maou and Ashiya's ears pressed against the door.
        "Of course I do Angel."
        "Wow..." He felt like crying he was so happy. "Me too- I mean! No, I- shit... You don't even know what I look like."
        "Well... What are you doing in two days?"
        "What? Uh, my roommates are dragging me to some stupid work thing, why?" 
        "Can you get out of it?" She asked hopefully.
        "Unlikely," He frowned, "Ashiya is dead set on getting me out of the house and won't let me out of his sight."
        "Oh... Ok." Great, now she was sleepy and sad.
        "What was your idea? Maybe we can reschedule?" He suggested.
        "I'm only in Japan for the next three days, so I don't think it'll work."
        "YOU'RE IN JAPAN?!" He yelled, "Like, right now?!"
        "Good Hanzo, do you mind keeping it down?" Suzino asked from her doorway, "Some of us are trying to enjoy a quiet evening."
        He waved her off and went back to questioning the girl. 
        "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
        "Didn't know till a couple days ago myself. I thought I'd surprise you." She told him shyly. "The guys had an extra spot on their panel at some convention and invited me."
        "Scrw what Ashiya wants, where's the con?"
        "It's at the-" There was a loud bang outside the building, the lights went out and he lost internet connection.
        "No... No! NO!" he gripped the side of his computer and begged her to tell him.
Taglist: @unicornwithachainsaw83​ @steviestyle​
Masterlist​
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lihikainanea · 3 years ago
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so it's summer and it's great but the heat is absolutely unforgiving. what if Tiger gets like, a reaction from the excessive sweat that this season brings and there's like a rash-like discoloration on the sides of her body, her back? I get these every summer and, it's hard to look at myself in the mirror when I put the cream on so they go away. I'm thinking Bill would help, but after Tiger lets him since she's a lil embarrassed and shy about them.
Ohhh bubs, I feel you. I have SUCH sensitive skin that I swear, I cry and then I have to spend like a week treating the eczema outbreak on my face that my own goddamn tears cause.
The heat and all that comes along with it can have some icky side effects and my girl tiger ain't spared. Heat rash? yep. Mild sun allergy that causes a rash? Yep. Hives because she's basically allergic to everything outside? Yep. Eczema outbreak because all the rashes are stressing her out? Yep.
Are we even going to talk about underboob and thigh chafe? Shit, yes we are because this is some real life BULLSHIT that most of us have to deal with.
And what if it's exactly that. Hear me out. She's been purposely avoiding getting nekkid with Bill for a few days--She's got this weird heat rash that's going down one side, itchy as all hell and red and bumpy. She manages to camouflage most of it with a loose fitting sundress, something of breathable material, but she just happens to need a strapless bra with it--and strapless bras are an Enemy of the Goddamn State, man. Maybe it's a nice cocktail hour at a schmancy new bar that opened so she's dressed cute, except one of her completely heat-resistant friends got them all a table outside because clearly this friend was born and raise din the fires of Hades, so a heatwave doesn't bother them. It's outside, and tiger is fucking dying. The sweat running down her side is making her itch even more and burning the sensitive, already-irritated skin there. She feels like she's fucking melting into a puddle under the blaze of the hot sun, which she's pretty sure is searing her make up off. She feels like a swamp monster.
And if that's not bad enough--the group decides to walk for ice cream after. They decide to walk QUITE a long ways for ice cream. And all that sweat that she has going underneath her dress is just making her bra dig into the fragile skin under her breasts, and the more her thighs rub together as she walks the more she can feel the chafe like, peeling off a layer of her fucking skin and she wants to die.
And Bill for his part is kind of walking a bit ahead with his boys, maybe it's been awhile since he's seen them so he's not keenly aware of the absolute hell that tiger is currently in. Until she snaps when, after ice cream, it's time to walk alllllllll the way back to the car.
"Fuck this," she mutters, "I'm out." And then a little louder. "Bill, I'm out."
He gives her a worried look, taking a few long strides until he's back with her.
"Okay kid," he says, "We can leave as soon as we get back to the car."
"Yep." She smiles, wide and scary--but doesn't move.
"It's...It's this way," he gestures somewhat helplessly to the direction everyone else continues walking in.
"Sure is."
She still doesn't move.
"....tiger?"
He jumps a mile when she lets out the loudest whistle he's ever heard, nearly giving him an uppercut as her hand shot up quickly. A cab came to a screeching halt, and she opened the door.
Confused but knowing better than to argue, Bill folded himself in half in the back seat as the cab drove them the 3 minute distance to the car.
"Are you....okay?" he asks cautiously as she buckles up her seatbelt in his car, and tiger just...man, tiger wants to go home. She's so uncomfortable, she's so itchy, everything burns, she's still overheated and she's just so over this night.
"I'm tired and too hot," she says instead, "Just take me home."
And like, look. Once they're home? Bill goes to unzip her dress because she always needs help with it, but tiger kind of smacks his hands away and huffs. He doesn't think much of it, she's just fussy and in a bad mood and she doesn't always want to be touched when she's feeling that way. And tiger, in the meantime, is just trying to locate either some calamine lotion or some cortisone cream or hell just a million ice packs that she can place on her side, between her thighs, under her breasts--everywhere that just seems on fire at the moment.
She heads to the bathroom, closing the door so she can rummage the cupboards in peace. She finally takes the dress off and flings her bra across the room and she winces at what she sees in the mirror. Her entire side is red and bumpy, an angry, itchy rash scaling up her torso. Tenderly, she rubs the skin under her breasts and bites her lip in pain--the skin there is raised, bright red, irritated and stinging. A quick check on her inner thighs reveals the same thing. She sighs, running the tap so that Bill won't hear her.
But listen, Bill? Bill just thinks she's washing her face, and he wanders in with a little whisky digestif and to see if he can entice her into taking a bubble bath with him. He opens the door and tiger shrieks, grabbing at a towel to cover herself--but not before he got a good view of what seems like half her body, bright red and irritated.
"Tiger," he gasps softly, "Kid what happened?"
"Bill get out," she squeaks, wrapping the towel around herself.
"No," he says. He yanks at her towel but she smacks his hand away.
"Bill," she says, a tad more angry now, "Leave me alone."
"No," he says again, "Tiger, show me."
"No."
"Tiger," it's his turn to be stern now, "We have rules. And so help me, if you don't drop that fucking towel then there will be another part of you that is bright fucking red. Now show me."
"It's okay," she sighs defeatedly, "It's just... a bit irritated."
She opens the towel a tad, showing him her side. Bill puts the whiskey glasses down and hold the towel open, leaning to get a closer look.
"What happened?" he asks softly, "Are you allergic to something?"
"No," she mumbles--god this is embarassing--"It's just...the heat. It gave me a bit of a rash that won't go away."
He nods, his eyebrows knitting together, and he tugs gently to undo the knot on her towel. When she protests he gives her a stern look and she sighs, letting him undo her covering. Gently, he runs his fingers along the side of her breasts and trail them down her rib cage.
"And here?"
"Strapless bra, sweat, and rubbing," she winces when he hits a sensitive spot and he apologizes, "Recipe for disaster."
He nods, his eyes sweeping over her looking for more markings.
"Anywhere else?" he asks after a beat. Tiger bites her lip, and he gently tugs it free with his thumb. She sighs, giving up, and rests her foot on the toilet so he can see her inner thigh.
"Dump truck thigh chafe," she says, "It's a killer."
He leans, kissing the marking softly.
"Oatmeal," he says as he stands and turns for the door, "A lukewarm oatmeal bath, and some calamine lotion."
"Bill, I'm handling it. It's not--"
But he spins back around.
"We. Have. Rules." every word is short, curt, and accentuated with a step as he backs her up to the tub and looms tall over her, "Don't we sweet girl?"
"Yes."
"And do you think that hiding this from me--spending the evening in discomfort and pain and not telling me anything--is that following the rules?" he asks. God he's authoritative when he's like this.
"Probably not?" she tries. A quick, challenging quirk of his brow and suddenly she's not so brave. "No, it's not following the rules."
"And trying to stop me from taking care of it when I do find out, is that following the rules?"
"No," she says meekly, "It's not."
"That's right, it's not," he says and he kisses her softly, "So you're going to let me take care of these markings, and then you're going to get some brand new ones."
And listen, Bill is more just pissed that tiger was in pain, clearly for at least a few days, and she didn't tell him. He's even more pissed that she sat there so uncomfortable that night, and also didn't tell him. But he puts his anger aside to care for her first--and an oatmeal bath it is, he gets in there with her and soaks while they sip their whiskey. And when they get out, he carefully dabs calamine lotion all over her--giving it a second to dry before pulling his big shirt over her head.
"Bedroom," he says, "Now."
Tiger slinks away--but also, man, what if our girl just ain't feeling it tonight? Yes, she was bad. Yes, she broke the rules. She's a little small about it but she's dealing okay, and truth be told she just...ugh, the thought of another patch of her skin being red and irritated and sore from a spanking is just kind of too much for her. It's a discomfort and a pain that she just doesn't feel up to dealing with tonight, after already spending so much time uncomfortable. SO maybe she's kneeling on his side of the bed when he comes in to find her, and as he approaches she just kind of thunks her head on his thigh, fiddles with the waistband of his boxers.
"Bill," she says softly, "Can I...can you punish me tomorrow for this? I've had enough discomfort for today. I don't want it."
Bill's heart could explode. He smiles at her--big and wide and totally dopey, hooks his hand around her arms and sets her on her feet gently.
"Good girl," he purrs, kissing her deeply, "My good girl."
She coos a little at that, and he tucks her into his chest for a tight hug.
"You tell me when you're ready to be punished kid, and we'll do it then," he tells her. She nods, and when he lays out in bed tiger just lies flat on his chest, sticks his thumb in her mouth, and starts snoring a few seconds later. Bill just lovingly tends to her for the next day or two--lukewarm baths, lots of calamine, lots of unscented soothing lotions--and then eventually after a few days when he's sitting on the couch playing a video game, tiger just walks in, shimmies out of her panties and lies across his lap.
"Let's have it bud," she tells him, "Make it hurt."
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c-c-cherry · 4 years ago
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Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌
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*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*
 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*
Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.
I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭
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Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)
-Hear me out but KNITTING
-Let this man do some nice calm things please
-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.
-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it
-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports
-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(
-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—
-One thing they do have in common? Erina.
-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)
-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”
-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down
-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it
-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”
-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/
The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:
“Isn’t that meant for girls?”
“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”
“But its—”
“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”
“...”
“We can make it a race.”
And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?
-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.
-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing
-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.
-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)
-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”
-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)
-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his
-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail
Jonathan is very proud :)
Jotaro
-Animals. Is that even a question?
-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT
-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man
-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺
-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind
-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean
-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)
-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together
-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)
-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol
-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG
-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3
-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough
-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud
-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni
-He wears them as a good luck charm :3
Josuke
-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)
-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do
-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know
-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY
-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something
-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??
-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart
-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,
-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke
-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week
-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,
-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room
-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed
-Turns out he’s really good at quest games
-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game
-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”
.
-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar
-Hamon ^-^
-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow
-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon
-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity
-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance
-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers
-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3
-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)
Giorno
-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form
-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea
-Garden buddies!!!! :D
-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)
-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers
-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please
-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally
-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together
-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic
-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3
-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))
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I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(
Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao
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hookedonapirate · 4 years ago
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The Dirty Text Challenge
Summary: “I told you, Emma, you should try it!” Mary Margaret screeches through the phone.
Emma pulls the device away from her ear, lest she go half-deaf by the sheer volume of her sister-in-law’s voice. “And I told you, I’m not doing that,” she protests, leaning back against the wall of the corridor outside the restrooms.
“Why not? You’ll be able to see how interested he is without having to tell him how you feel to his face.”
“But what if he's not?”
“Oh Emma, do you really not know your best friend? He’s interested, trust me!”
“Has he said anything to you or David?”
“Of course not. But that doesn’t mean he’s not interested in you. It just means he’s not interested in getting clocked in the face by your brother.”
Notes: This is a birthday gift for my good friend, @onceuponaprincessworld. Thank you for always being supportive and encouraging and, well, for putting up with me :) Hope you have an awesome day, love!
Inspired by the Dirty Text Challenge on Tik Tok that was trending awhile back, where you send a dirty text to your significant other and record his reaction when he reads it. There was one video in particular that made me want to write this for CS, and it was by realkayjane. She posted a video of her best friend reading a text she sent him in a bar, and then they started dating. It very well could've been staged, or maybe not, I honestly don't know. Nevertheless, I wanted to write it, so here it is. And if you're interested to see what the text says, no worries, I've included a flashback at the end ;)
Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for being so kind and for looking it over at the last minute!
Rated: Explicit
Also Available on: AO3 FF.N
Killian’s phone vibrates from his pants pocket for the second time since he’s been at The Rabbit Hole that evening, but he continues to ignore it. What could possibly be more important than hanging out with his best friend at their favorite bar anyhow?
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
“It can wait,” Killian says, waving off her question and taking a swig of his rum. 
“It might be important.”
Killian glances up at her from over the rim of his tumbler.
More important than being with you? 
Unlikely.
His phone vibrates once more, but he still doesn’t move to retrieve it.
She cocks her brow, giving that castigating look. A look that tells him he should answer his phone. 
So he sighs and reluctantly digs it out, seeing three text messages from the same person. 
Unknown: Hey Killian. It’s Tina. David gave me your number. I hope you don’t mind.
He groans.
Yes, I do mind. Bloody hell, Dave, why did you have to give her my number?
Unknown: Are you free tonight?
Definitely not.
Unknown: You can come over if you want.
He’s never even been on a single date with Tina. 
Killian thinks about how he will politely decline.
“Who is it? If it’s David, I swear, he better either be in jail or the hospital if he’s interrupting our evening.”
Killian’s cheeks heat with blush, and he has to suppress the smile threatening his lips.
She said our evening .
Killian scratches behind his ear, reluctant to tell her the texts are from some woman David’s trying to set him up with. “Uh, it’s… it’s no one.” 
Emma grins, clearly not buying it. “Doesn’t seem like no one. You’re blushing.”
Not for the reasons you probably think.
He chuckles nervously. “Truly, it’s no one important.”
Emma cocks her head to the side. 
Damn her for knowing him so well. For being able to tell when someone is lying to her. Tina is really no one important to him—he barely knows her, if at all. He spoke to her one time, and that was when David introduced her to him. They chatted for all of ten seconds. So he’s not exactly lying to Emma. But she thinks he’s blushing over the person sending him the texts. She doesn't know she is the one he is blushing over.
He's about to slip his phone into his pocket, but before he can, Emma grabs his arm with one hand and steals the device with her other one. She's so quick and smooth, he doesn’t have time to stop her.
Killian gulps as she checks his phone.
Her eyes light up with amusement when she sees the messages from Tina and reads them out loud. Then she looks up at him, raising her brow. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”
Killian reaches over the table and plucks the phone from her hands with a heavy sigh. “She’s not my girlfriend. Your brother is trying to set me up with her.”
She picks up her strawberry daiquiri, knitting her brows in confusion. “Sounds like you’ve already hooked up with her.” She brings the glass to her lips, taking a sip as he watches her intently.
“We haven't even been on one date.”
She nods, lowering her drink as she swallows. “So, are you going over to her place?”
He wishes he could read minds right now because he can’t tell if she’s asking about Tina because she’s just curious or if she's asking because she’s jealous. 
Definitely the first option, he thinks.
He shakes his head. “Of course not.” A small smile plays at his lips. “Why would I go to her place when I’m already with my favorite person in the entire world?”
Emma’s cheeks paint with blush as she sets her drink down and crosses her arms on the tabletop. “Because obviously you’d be getting laid.”
“Well, you know me, Emma. I’m too much of a gentleman to just go over to a woman’s home who I barely know and get my rocks off.”
She smirks and teases him playfully. “I know. So are you at least going to ask her on a date?”
He stares at Emma for a moment, trying to figure out how to properly answer her question without baring his soul to her. So he settles on a flat-out lie. “I haven’t decided yet.”
He hates this. 
He hates not being able to tell his best friend he’s madly in love with her.
And he’d nearly blurted it out over an intense game of Mario Kart a few days ago. 
“Fuck me!” Emma whines after losing another round against him and nearly throwing the controller across the room (she probably would have if David hadn’t plucked it from her hands).
Killian is busy trying to recover from her expletives and how her words had shot straight through him. He knows he should just keep his mouth shut, because, for one... her brother is in the room and two… well, he would very much like to take her up on that offer. No actually, he doesn’t want that, and that’s the problem. He wants so much more than that. He’s had so many fantasies about being with Emma, but they all involve things like taking her out on a proper date, holding her hand, kissing her, making love to her. So no, he doesn’t want to fuck her. He wants a future with her, one which involves being more than her best friend. Gods, he wants so much more than that. But he’s not willing to give up any less than what he already has. So, instead of revealing his true feelings, he covers them up with a playful quip. “Is that an invitation, love?”
The look she gives him makes his heartbeat quicken, one corner of her lips curving up into a shy smirk, her cheeks reddening as he feels David’s stare burning into him.
“Why? You offering?” she retorts.
Killian stares at his best friend in shock, his mouth slightly agape. “Maybe I a — ” 
Before he can finish his reply, David threatens him with a deadly glare and cuts him off. “No, it’s not an invitation and no, he’s not offering,” he answers for both of them.
And that is one of the other reasons why Killian hasn’t had the guts to tell Emma how he really feels. Okay, it’s the main reason. Because not only could it destroy his friendship with her, but also his friendship with her brother. 
Emma scowls at David and snatches the controller from his hands. “Who died and made you king?”
David mimics her in a whiny voice and Emma retaliates by shoving him in the arm. 
“Ow!” He rubs the spot where she'd hit him, and sticks his tongue out at her. “Brat.”
She does it back. “Dork.”
Killian chuckles . He's always thouroughly entertained by their little sibling squabbles. 
“One more game, Jones?” Emma asks him.
And that was that. They played another round, which she won, and neither of them spoke of the words exchanged that night.
Which makes tonight pretty awkward, considering it’s the first time Killian’s actually been alone with Emma since then. Well, if you consider sitting together in a booth at a crowded bar, alone. So to dial down the awkward tension between them, Killian keeps the drinks coming so the alcohol will ease the nerves in his stomach. 
But the problem with alcohol is the effects it has.
The first one is giggliness.
Emma is adorable when she’s sober, but when she’s drunk, she is extra adorable. She can’t say three words in a row without giggling. 
That effect, mixed with the second one, is bound to lead to things he’s not sure he’s prepared for. Especially not while they’re drunk.
Oversharing.
Not that they don’t already know everything there is to know about each other, but when he’s trying to keep his biggest secret from his best friend… well, that presents quite the problem when he’s drunk. At least he still has enough presence of mind to know how much to overshare. 
“Must be nice to have women throwing themselves at you, Jones. I swear, if it wasn’t for my vibrator, I’d probably have cobwebs!” she exclaims over the noisy bar chatter. 
Killian shudders at the images her confession is supplying him with. He’s certainly not imagining her using said vibrator. And he’s fairly certain she wouldn’t have to worry about cobwebs if she didn’t have a vibrator. Emma could have any man she wanted. He’s one of them. “I’m definitely not getting laid as often as you make it sound,” he retorts with a chuckle. “Or as much as I’d like to.”
“Please!” she snorts. “You could have your cock licked by every woman at this bar with a snap of your fingers if you wanted to.”
Testing her theory, he snaps his fingers and looks around. “Where are they, love?” Not that he has any interest to get his cock licked by anyone at this bar. Or anyone, really. Anyone except the gorgeous blonde sitting across from him with the most beautiful emerald green eyes he’s ever seen and a smile that sets his heart on fire as she bursts out laughing.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m just being honest,” he says before draining the last of his rum.
She taps her empty glass with her nails. “One more round?”
He nods and raises his hand to summon the server.
“But first, I have to pee. My bladder is about to burst.” She rises from the booth, and he follows her with his eyes as she makes her way to the restrooms. 
~*~
Emma’s a bit lightheaded as she leaves the ladies' room, but not nearly as much as she’s led on. She was hoping to drop hints to Killian without repelling him. But she’s afraid she’s completely failing. How does one exactly go about telling her best friend of five years she’s completely in love with him? 
She has no fucking clue.
“I told you, Emma, you should try it!” Mary Margaret screeches through the phone. 
Emma pulls the device away from her ear, lest she go half-deaf by the sheer volume of her sister-in-law’s voice. “And I told you, I’m not doing that,” she protests, leaning back against the wall of the corridor outside the restrooms.
“Why not? You’ll be able to see how interested he is without having to tell him how you feel to his face.”
“But what if he's not?”
“Oh Emma, do you really not know your best friend? He’s interested, trust me!”
“Has he said anything to you or David?”
“Of course not. But that doesn’t mean he’s not interested in you. It just means he’s not interested in getting clocked in the face by your brother.”
“And if you’re wrong? Then what?”
Mary Margaret sighs. “If I’m wrong—which I’m definitely not—then you can just tell him you meant to send the text to someone else.”
“But who? I just told him I have an exclusive relationship with my vibrator.”
“Then maybe one of your past flings? I don’t know, Emma, you’ll come up with something. But I’m like one hundred and ten percent sure you won’t have to.”
Emma sighs in exasperation and defeat. “Fine, but if this ends badly, I’m only blaming you.”
She can almost hear her sister-in-law’s grin from the other line, even though she can’t see her. “Fine. If I’m wrong, I'll take full responsibility. In fact, if I’m wrong, I’ll buy you grilled cheese sandwiches every day for an entire year.”
Hmmm, that does sound appealing.“With onion rings?”
“I’ll buy you the whole freaking menu at Granny’s if you want.”
“Okay,” Emma laughs. “And if you’re right, what do you want?”
“If I’m right, I will already have everything I could possibly want.”
“And what’s that?”
“Well, besides your brother, obviously, the knowledge that you and Killian will live happily ever after, of course.” 
Emma’s heart warms at her sister-in-law’s sentiment. If only love could be that simple. Just offer her heart to Killian and receive his in return. But this isn’t some fairytale or romance novel where the heroine rides off into the sunset with her handsome hero. This is real life. “Okay.” Suddenly the idea of what she’s about to do makes her heart flitter in panic. “So I’m actually doing this?”
“You’re doing this. And you won’t regret it. Now put on your big girl pants and go get your man.”
After they end the call, Emma lowers the phone from her ear and with shaky hands, pulls up her text conversations with Killian. She sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly, her breath wobbly. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she types a text with shaky fingers, erases it, retypes it and repeats that cycle three more times before she’s satisfied with the message. At first, she didn’t want to send anything to Killian that she wouldn’t be able to defend and say it was meant for someone else. But then she thought, screw it. She can blame it on the alcohol. 
For years, she’s been wanting to tell her best friend how she really feels about him, and when she finally scrounged up the courage to tell Mary Margaret, her sister-in-law suggested this hair-brained scheme she came up with after watching these trending Tik Tok videos of women sending their boyfriends or husbands dirty texts in public and recording their reactions. Since Killian isn’t her boyfriend or husband, Mary Margaret thought it would be a great idea to find out whether he likes her or not. Or rather, prove to a stubborn Emma he’s secretly in love with her.
Well, she’s about to find out. Here goes nothing...
She peers around the corner of the hallway entrance and does a quick check to make sure he didn't leave and go into the men's room or something. When she spots him across the room, still sitting at their booth, she sends off the text. Then she quickly pulls up the camera on her phone and starts recording, her heart pounding. It’s pounding so loud she can hear it in her ears over the loud music and boisterous bar chatter.
His phone lights up on the table and he sets down his tumbler to pick up the device.
Emma watches him with bated breath, hoping and praying this wasn’t a mistake. Hoping his reaction won’t be the same reaction he had when he received those texts from Tina. Emma had done her best to hide her emotions when she saw that skank’s text messages. She had to swallow her words and shove down her jealousy, but when she remembered that look of irritation written all over Killian’s face as he read those texts, she realized why he was irritated. Needless to say, she was relieved beyond belief. 
Through her phone, Emma watches as Killian’s mouth falls open, his eyes big and wide as he stares at his screen.
Emma has no idea what he’s thinking right now, but she really wishes she did. Is he happy, excited, turned on? Or is he pissed off, disappointed, disgusted? She’s usually pretty good at reading her best friend, but right now it’s like trying to read a blank page.
He lifts his head and looks toward the restrooms, so she quickly retreats inside the hallway, keeping her phone in place so it’s still recording him. She presses her back against the wall, as though the opposite wall is closing in on her, and she’s trying to draw in as much air into her lungs before she’s suffocated to death. 
Shit, shit, shit. 
What if Mary Margaret’s plan didn’t work? What if Emma scared him away?
Cautiously and carefully, she turns her head and looks around the corner again.
To her utter horror, Killian is not in the booth.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did she send him the text?
In panic mode, Emma brings her hand back and stops recording as she flattens against the wall again and contemplates shooting Killian another text saying she sent the text by mistake. 
She starts typing out a message.
Emma: Sorry, that text was for someone else. Ooops, my bad.
But then she sees the text she'd sent and realizes she made it impossible to say it wasn’t meant for him because of what the text said.
Nope, she definitely can’t talk her way out of that one.
Before she can erase the message and type out how sorry she is, her phone is being slipped from her hands.
She’s about to lose her shit when she looks up and gasps as her eyes meet vivid blue ones. 
Killian’s looking at her with a hungry—no, primal—stare.
And just like that, all of her oncoming anger melts away.
Emma can’t move. She can’t speak, she can’t even breathe. This man has impaired her ability to do anything other than stare back at him, waiting for him to speak. Her stomach is clenching and her heart is racing under the heaviness of his stare.
She doesn’t even give two flying fucks when he slips her phone into his pocket.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he leans into her space and murmurs in her ear. “You said I could have any woman in the bar licking my cock at a snap of my fingers...” His voice is decadent and drops an octave when he speaks again. “What if I told you, you could have one man licking your pussy at the snap of yours?”
She gulps hard and just stares at him in shock. He’s joking, right? But she’s known him for five years and can’t detect a single trace of mocking in his words. 
Without breaking her challenging stare, she lifts her hand. 
And snaps her fingers.
Without hesitation or any preconceived thought, Killian takes her hand in his and leads her into the ladies' room, locking the door behind them. He backs her against the sink and draws her into his arms, a wave of desire so profound sweeping through her, it leaves her trembling in his muscular arms, clinging to his body like a lifeline. When he lifts her up and sets her on the edge of the sink, their mouths find each other, their lips moving with a need that burns like a fire inside them both. She slides her arms around his neck, her lips fused to his, her tongue swirling and exploring his mouth as her breasts are pressed deliciously against his chest. 
Killian holds her flush against him, his tongue mingling with hers in a sensual ballet of lips and flesh that leaves them both panting. She moans softly into his mouth as he rubs at her back, squeezing one of her ass cheeks in his free hand. 
She can’t believe she’s actually kissing Killian. Her best friend. And he is every bit the kisser she knew he would be. His tongue flicks against hers so expertly and he’s groaning, his guttural sounds vibrating through her, shivers running down her spine, her skin tingling all over. Her stomach is coiled in anticipation at the thought of that same tongue on her pussy.
Oh God.
She needs that tongue on her like she needs air to breathe. As much alcohol as she’s had, the only thing fogging her mind is the lust and pleasure coursing through her veins. She’s now drunk on something else entirely. And it’s on the man who is currently breaking the kiss and leaving her a panting, breathless mess as he slides his lips over her jawline and down her neck, the scruff on his chin scratching her so deliciously. 
As she’s still trying to recover from that kiss—as if she could—she’s so glad she wore a dress tonight. As he leaves a trail of kisses along her collarbone, he pulls the straps down her arms, yanks down the top of her dress and pushes her black, lacy bra cups out of the way, exposing her breasts. As he’s admiring her naked breasts in wonderment, as he's squeezing them in his firm hands, making her nipples harden, she's admiring him and blushing profusely.
Fuck.
When he caresses a hard bud with his lips, Emma moans, and when he draws the same nipple into his mouth, she runs her hands through his hair, enjoying how soft and warm his mouth is against her sensitive skin, a breath exploding between her lips. He kisses his way to her other breast, giving the same treatment. She can feel how hard he is through his jeans, and it’s making her so much wetter than she already was. To her relief, he’s grabbing her dress and hauling it up her legs, seeking access she’s definitely willing to grant him. She helps him move the hem of her dress to her stomach, exposing her black, lacy thong. He leaves bruising kisses on her lower belly and inner thighs as he slides her panties off. 
When he’s on his knees and his gorgeous face is between her thighs, he looks up at her, those intense blue eyes stealing her breath as he gently slides his lips up her leg, giving her time to push him away if she desired. A completely unnecessary precaution. 
She leans back, gripping the edge of the sink as she drapes one leg over his shoulder and pushes him to her.
The soft, warm air of his chuckles hits her glistening folds and sends a shiver up her spine. “Patience, love.” He presses gentle kisses to her nub, her folds, and noses her slit, breathing in slowly, taking in her unique scent. Emma’s incapable of being patient, though; she can almost feel his tongue on her as he wraps his arms around her, urging her to lean back a little more so he has full access to her. 
Finally, his tongue hits her flesh, taking a thorough exploration between her folds until he finds exactly what he’s searching for. She dips her head back, hitting the back of it against the mirror, her hands clutching at the top of his head for purchase. Her eyelids fall shut, soft moans pouring from her mouth as his tongue works so skillfully on her bundle of nerves. She opens her eyes so she can watch him as he licks her good and hard, and she lifts one of her legs to the edge of the counter so she’s spread out like a feast before him. She tugs gently on his hair, urging him closer and she can tell he doesn’t mind, because he's growling and puckering his lips, drawing her clit into his soft, warm mouth, making her tremble. It’s the most erotic thing she’s ever witnessed, and she’s wondering who’s enjoying this more, him or her. 
When he glances up, his eyes are boring into hers, and she can feel him smiling against her folds when he sees how wrecked she is with her best friend’s tongue between her legs. Those sparkling blue eyes are piercing through her soul and she can’t find the strength to tear her gaze from his. It’s so fucking hot watching him eating her out. Watching him take his sweet time bringing her close to the very edge before pulling away and then bringing her back. It’s like watching the waves of the ocean moving in and lapping the shoreline before ebbing away. His tongue lapping her up and then withdrawing. In and out, in and out, over and over, increasing in intensity and speed each time, until she’s a complete mess, until she’s arching her back and fisting tufts of his hair and tugging him closer, begging for him to finish her off.
“Killian… please…” she moans breathlessly, helpless against the mirror and completely at his mercy.
The alcohol certainly doesn’t help; it had made her incredibly more horny. Meaning every inch of her is more sensitive. So, Killian suckling on her clit and lapping her up as if his life depends on it is bound to push her over the edge and make her crumble into a million pieces very soon.
And he does so effortlessly.
God, he does.
“Killian!” Emma screams, hoping the loud music and chatter of the bar are drowning out her sounds of ecstasy as she falls apart. She falls so hard, she’s thankful Killian’s hands are gripping her thighs, holding her in place, because otherwise she’d be on the floor right now. Literally.
When she comes back to reality, her body is still twitching. Killian is pressing soft, wet kisses to her nub and each of her thighs, and there’s fire in his eyes as he rises and sucks her essence off his fingers. 
She can taste herself on his lips when he kisses her. And she melts again, arousal shooting through her once more. But as airy as she feels, she somehow musters the strength to push him back, fumble for his belt, tug down his pants and sink to her knees.
Holy hell.
His cock is glorious.
Thick and throbbing, pointing at her, almost beckoning her forward. 
“Snap your fingers,” she says, smirking up at him. 
He manages a grin and doesn’t argue. 
When he snaps his fingers, she wraps her hand around his stiff length and strokes him slowly, a deep, soft moan escaping her lips. He feels fucking amazing in her hand. 
He draws in a sharp breath when she kisses his velvety tip. Then she leans in and licks up his entire length, making him gasp. 
“Good… Gods… Emma.”
His thick shaft is glistening with her saliva, and Killian bites his lower lip as he looks at her, trying to hold back the urge to lose himself too soon. She smiles, encouraged by his palpable excitement, and wraps her wet lips around his cock. The tip of him slides easily into her mouth, and she sucks on him greedily, bobbing her head a few times before removing her hand, grabbing his hips and taking him in deeper. Killian lets out a deep, guttural groan, reaching down to cup her cheeks in his hands. Emma hums gently around him while allowing his cock to slide back and forth past her lips, not enough to escape her mouth, but enough to build up some friction. 
“Fu-uck! That feels incredible, love…” he groans, his voice completely wrecked.
The sounds of his breathing grow louder with each passing minute. Her arousal builds inside her again while she takes him deep, letting his belled tip almost slip free from her mouth before taking him in again. She can’t refrain from smiling around his cock, knowing she’s subjecting him to the same torture he put her through. 
Emma massages his balls in her fingers and increases her speed, taking him into her mouth deeper and faster and harder. Killian’s hands are threading through her hair and he’s groaning loudly, thrusting his hips, seeking release. And she’s finally ready to give it to him. She moans around him and takes his perfect buttcheek in her free hand, taking him roughly, letting him fuck her mouth until his hot seed is spurting down her throat and he’s gripping her hair tightly and his legs are shaking.
“Gods, Emma… that was…”
The knock on the bathroom door pulls them both back to reality. Emma quickly swallows his cum down her throat and licks her lips as she rises. They reassemble themselves quicker than they would’ve preferred. They right their clothes, tame their hair and walk out of the restroom like everything’s perfectly normal, ignoring the looks they’re getting from the female patron who’s outside the door waiting to use the restroom. 
Killian and Emma are laughing as he pays their tab and they’re still giggling as they stumble out of the bar.
They take an uber to Killian’s apartment and the keys he drops on the floor is only the beginning of the trail they leave behind as they make their way to his bedroom. A jacket, one shoe, Killian’s sweater, another shoe, another jacket, her bra, her dress, her wet panties… they don’t even break the kiss to fling their clothes to the floor, and their lips are still connected when they make it to the room and fall into Killian’s bed.
Emma can’t believe that after five years she’s finally making love to this man, making love several times in several different positions, and when they’re both completely sapped, their heads are falling against the pillows and he’s kissing the back of her hand and asking her on a date.
~*~
Once they're not both in bed or out on their first official date (they wait until they go back to her place to begin any more enjoyable activities this time), Emma finally gets to watch the video of Killian’s reaction to the dirty text she’d sent him two days prior. 
And what she sees fills her with so much happiness, she can’t stop smiling.
And when she uploads the video on Tik Tok, it goes viral.
~*~
Killian sighs heavily into his hands. He’s such an idiot. He needs to just man up and tell Emma how he feels. But if it were really that easy, then he would’ve done it five years ago, right?
The sound of his phone vibrating against the table drags him from his reverie and he lifts his face from his hands and picks up his phone. 
It’s a text message from Emma.
Emma: I have a confession. I didn’t actually have to pee. All that talk of licking your cock made me so wet. Made it difficult to sit across from you instead of crawling underneath the table and licking your cock.
Killian groans, his cock actually twitching when he reads her text.
Fuck.
He’s completely stunned. He doesn’t even know how to react or feel about her text. Is she serious? Is she joking? Is it the alcohol?
A million questions race through his mind and when he’s finally able to peel his eyes from his phone screen, he looks across the bar toward the restrooms. He’s half expecting to find her watching him from a distance to catch his reaction but she’s nowhere in sight. He looks at his phone again and reads her text again. A slow smile creeps across his lips at the thought of Emma crawling underneath the table to suck him off.
Bloody hell.
Suddenly he feels very warm and grabs the drink menu to fan himself. Did they turn on the heat in here?
He blows out a laden breath and slips the phone into his pocket, trying to recover from how turned on he is. The thought of Emma’s sweet, pink lips wrapped around his hard, aching cock makes him painfully hard. And he’s pretty sure his arousal is written all over his face. But he also wonders what this means. 
Was she sending him an invitation?
Does she want him to take action? Is she wanting him to meet her in the restroom? 
He’s not sure, but he’s not about to let this opportunity slip from his fingers. Killian sets down the menu, drags a hand through his hair and gets up before he can talk himself out of it.
Fuck.
Is he actually going to the ladies’ room to get his dick sucked?
Nah, while the thought of having Emma’s mouth on his cock is awfully enticing, he has other ideas in mind.
As he approaches the hallway, he can see Emma on her phone. He suddenly becomes nervous and completely terrified. 
Holy hell.
Is he actually doing this?
He keeps moving his feet, breaking through his stubborn wall of fear that’s held him back all this time. He breaks through the wall of anxiety and nerves that have weighed him down. 
He takes another deep breath, steps into her space and snatches the phone from her hand, hoping and praying this isn’t a huge mistake.
If it was a mistake, then it was the best mistake he’s ever made. Because not only does he get to be with his best friend—the woman of his dreams—but her brother doesn’t completely hate him. David wasn't happy at first, but he’s slowly getting used to the idea of his best buddy dating his sister.
And Mary Margaret is overjoyed. But she's been acting very peculiar ever since he began dating Emma. Every time they meet Mary Margaret and David for lunch, the petite brunette always says without fail, “Guess what time it is?” After Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes, Mary Margaret always has the same answer to her own question: “It’s time for you to buy your own grilled cheese sandwich and onion rings.”
Which is strange because, being the gentleman his mum raised him to be, he always foots the bill whenever he takes Emma out to eat.
What's even more puzzling is that Mary Margaret suddenly stops saying it after a year.
David's wife sure is an odd one.
Tagging:  @itsfabianadocarmo @ilovemesomekillianjones @onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @searchingwardrobes @gingerchangeling @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @artistic-writer @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @superchocovian
Sorry if I missed anyone, I’m very sleepy at the moment and have a long, early day tommorrow, so I’m posting this before I sleep.
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fairy-writes · 3 years ago
Note
Howdy! I'd like an Ouran highschool host club and a Death Note matchup, please!
I'm a big theater kid; I adore being on stage and just public speaking in general. I love telling jokes and my friends say I am very funny. I love to learn! I listen to video essays on YouTube instead of listening to music.
My hobbies include: reading, playing cozy video games (Minecraft, Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, Pokemon, etc), knitting, and starting projects that I never finish (whoops).
My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. I only like to touch people I really trust, but once I'm comfortable I adore it.
Thanks for your consideration, have an amazing day :)
Hello lovely! I hope you like your matchups! You didn’t specify whether you wanted a male or female matchup, so I hope this is alright!
Ouran High School Host Club Matchup: I pair you with… Fujioka Haruhi!
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Haruhi admires your work as a theater kid and your public speaking capabilities. Public speaking isn’t something she’s ever been good at—what with being an introvert and all. But she finds you hilarious and loves your jokes! She laughs easily, so even the crappiest of jokes will usually get a giggle or two out of her.
Reading dates! Especially after the two of you graduate and start going to college, she’s always busy reading textbooks, so make something fun out of it! She also asks you to teach her how to knit, and the two of you like to knit together when you have days where you have nothing else planned.
Her love languages are words of affirmation, and she loves to tell you how much she cares about you and praises you a lot! Once you’re used to her and the Host Club’s antics, she loves to hold your hand!
Death Note Matchup: I pair you with… Nate River!
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Near isn’t a massive fan of physical touch, so his love language is probably words of praise and/or words of affirmation. The two of you occasionally play video games together, although that’s really more Matt’s thing.
The two of you have really casual and lowkey dates together once Near gets it through his head that you aren’t leaving him for someone more normal. Of course, it takes a lot for him to realize it, but once he does, the two of you are as close as can be!
You are definitely the extrovert to his introvert. You like public speaking and theater. He likes toys and mysteries. You are often found knitting while he works, and he likes to ask for your opinion on whatever case he happens to be working on!
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miraculousgemscc · 4 years ago
Text
Not So Berry Extended
I was inspired to write out a few more generations for the Not So Berry Challenge! I’m currently playing it in my spare time as a Vampire Not so Berry (cause why not?) and i’m having a lot of fun playing it and watching others play through the challenge! If you’d like to see more of these or maybe another version of Not So Berry Extended but with more of the careers then please let me know!
NOTE: This hasn’t been play-tested! If whatever’s listed below is impossible to complete please let me know and i’ll make the needed changes!
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Gen 11: Black
(Requires Snowy Escape, Get Famous, Parenthood)
Growing up, you always thought you had the perfect life: You had the dream house, the dream family. Until one day you found out that your mother/father/parent had a secret affair. This completely broke you and in order to cope with the news, you decided to become a rebel. I mean, don’t we all go through a rebellious phase in our lives? Your whole perspective on life went 360: you changed your sense of style, your personality, etc. all at once. At least you had the great outdoors giving you comfort during your “everlasting phase”! Your favorite season was Winter because you could ski/snowboard all day, everyday. And what about those dreams you had of becoming a famous skier/snowboarder? Well we can do that too!
Traits: Hot-Headed (give as a teenager), Active, Self-Assured
Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast
Career: Manuel Laborer, Ski/Snowboarding YouTuber (once you reach Level 10 of Ski/Snowboarding)
Rules:
Must enter “rebellious phase” either at the end of childhood or beginning of being a teenager (you don’t need PH for this, it’s just apart of storytelling) (this is when the black color of this gen. should occur)
Must get the Argumentative, Insensitive and Uncontrolled Emotions Character Value traits (PH)
Must max either the Skiing or Snowboarding skill (SE)
Must enter the Manuel Laborer job as a teenager and stay in that job
Once your able to create Snowboarding videos, you must make your money off of your videos only
Reach at least Rising Star of Celebrity level (GF)
B-Lister is preferred but since getting fame with Get Famous is hard as it is Rising Star is ok
Must move to Mt. Komorebi (SE)
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Gen 12: Dark Academia
(requires Get to Work, Nifty Knitting) Your mother/father/parent was one of the most famous skier/snowboarders in Mt. Komorebi. She/He/They always encouraged you to spend your time outdoors and take in the fresh air. Yet, you preferred to spend your time indoors, curled up in bed with your tea and book in hand. You craved to enter the fictional worlds you’ve read in your books from a young age. When you entered high school, you found your love for the arts and decided that you’d become an artist. At least then you could bring the worlds you’ve read to life on a canvas! And why not have a little snack while we’re at it? You can just learn some new foods you can make through cooking books after all!
Traits: Bookworm, Creative, Art Lover
Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire
Career: Stay-at-Home Painter, Painter career (⚠️Only if you get offered the job⚠️)
Rules:
Must complete the Painter Extraordinaire aspiration
Must max out Painting skill, Cooking or Gourmet Cooking skill and Photography skill (GTW)
Must make your money through your paintings only
if you get a call about joining the Painter career, you must accept
Must move into a “rundown” lot/apartment with only a kitchen, bathroom, and a bed (and maybe your books if you want but you can’t sell these for money)
your funds when you move out after moving into your house must be $60
(this will be enough for your painting and some extra money to spend elsewhere)
Must have a library in your house
Must have 3 kids (biological or adopted)
spouse must be employed as a Salaryperson and/or Business career (recommended if it’s game generated but you can give them either job yourself)
can only marry partner towards the end of adulthood
Must purchase Knitting Skill Book 1 from bookshelf (NK)
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Gen 13: Pastel
(requires Nifty Knitting, Get To Work, Get Together) Your family was pretty stable for the most part. Sure, you may have had trouble paying the bills here and there but what mattered most is that your family was together. Even though you enjoyed your mother/father/parent’s love for Forrest Green, Rosy Brown and overall Earthy tones you felt like you needed a bit more color in your life. And by color, you mean bright and colorful. One day while going through your mother/father/parent’s library you discovered a book on knitting. Figuring your mother/father/parent spent all of their time cooking and painting anyways you decided to take the book and learn how to knit. Yet, knitting cute decor and beanies isn’t going to put food on the table and a roof over your head. Guess running your own business is going to have to wait. Oh yeah, you also have a weird obsession with the letter B...
Traits: Perfectionist, Cheerful, Childish
Aspiration: Lady/Lord of the Knits
Career: Barista (teen), Business (young adult), Business owner (adult)
Rules:
Must complete the Lady/Lord of the Knits aspiration
Must max out Knitting skill, reach required skills needed for jobs before quitting them (ex. If you need Level 3 of Charisma for the Business career but you’ve age up to an Adult, you must reach level 3 before quitting the job)
Must Donate to Charity at least once a week
Quit your career in Business and open your own business as an adult (GTW)
Must get 2/5 stars for your business
Must live in Windenburg and have your business in the Old Platz neighborhood (GT)
Must create a Knitting Club and meet your friends (GT) when you reach Level 3 of the Knitting skill
Can only have relationships with immediate family (siblings, parent(s), grandparent(s), aunts/uncles) until you create the club. Once you create the club you may make friends.
Must become good friends with club members and best friends with one of the members
Marry your partner from the Knitting Club
Must have their first and/or last name start with B (you can cheat the name if you want)
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Gen 14: White (Requires Get Famous, Get Together, City Living) Living in Windenburg for most of your life, you always loved how the town was so inclusive to everything and everyone. You always found yourself vibing with the music and dancing whenever you had the chance. But you also had a passion for music, specifically rap. While browsing the internet one day you came across some videos about some kid with blue hair rapping with his friends and you immediately became obsessed. (yes, I just made a FNF reference) From that day on, you wanted to become a Triple Threat: a dancer, musician, and a producer! The world isn’t stopping anytime soon so you gotta act fast and get your dance on!
Traits: Dance Machine, Music Lover, Geek
Aspiration: Musical Genius
Career: Entertainer Rules:
Must max the Dancing skill, Media Production skill, and Guitar/Violin/Piano skill (your choosing) reach level 6 of Singing skill
Must complete the Entertainer career
Must be signed to a Record Label and release your music (GF)
Must marry someone named Keith and has the Proper trait (you may cheat the name only)
Have a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner in high school but break up with them before becoming a Young Adult
must be Hot and Cold with High School love (negative friendship, positive romance)
Have Dance Battles with your friends at least once a week
Have at least 2 Enemies (you can have more if you wish) (this doesn’t include your High School love)
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Gen 15: Navy Blue
(Requires Discover University, Eco Lifestyle, Parenthood) Growing up you tend to lean towards a more sophisticated lifestyle thanks to your father. With having good role models around you and supportive parents, you were able to pursue your dreams of becoming a lawyer. Helping those in need was one of your biggest goals in life. The world right now isn’t perfect and you strive to change the world for the better. Having been the smartest kid throughout your school career, you were given the chance to jump straight into the Law career. Although you were grateful for the opportunity, you decided to continue your studies and learn as much as you could before going into Law.
Traits: Proper, Ambitious, Genius
Aspiration: Academic
Career: Law
Rules:
Must complete the Law career
Become a Private Attorney
Must max out Research and Debate, reach level 5 Logic skill, reach level 8 Charisma skill
Must complete the Whiz Kid aspiration and Academic aspiration
Must attend college for the Law career (you may disable aging while you go to college if you want)
Must get an A in school (child and teen)
Must have the Responsible and Mediator Character Value traits
Must make your neighborhood a Green neighborhood (EL)
Attend volunteer events at least once a week (PH)
Never get married, only have 1 child
(can have boyfriend/girlfriend/partner)
Must move to Britechester when you start the Law career (you can live in Britechester while attending college if you want)
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Gen 16: Phoenix
(Requires Vampire) You grew up wanting more from the world besides all of the “change the world” stuff your mother/father/parent kept blabbering on about. Instead of changing the world, you wanted a change of scenery. While roaming the world trying to find your new normal you discovered the world of Forgotten Hollow. There, you met your soulmate and later the person who would eventually turn you into a vampire. As crazy as it sounds, the minute you became a Young Adult you up and left your home in Britechester and moved to Forgotten Hollow. This you thought was it! You were finally free to be yourself! Until the dreaded accident.....
Traits: Loves the Outdoors, Romantic, Erratic
Aspiration: Master Vampire
Career: none
Rules:
Must purposely burn in the sun and die
Must have no kids
Must complete Master Vampire aspiration except the, “Survive for an Additional 20 Days as a Vampire” section (you must Die by Sunlight before this reaches the full 20 Days)
Must max Vampire Lore skill and Pipe Organ skill, reach level 5 Gardening skill
Have your own garden in Forgotten Hollow and make your money through your garden only
Must unlock the Thin Skinned weakness from Vampire levels
Must immediately move out as a Young Adult to Forgotten Hollow
your partner must be a Vampire and turn you into a Vampire
And that’s it! I hope you find this as interesting as I did! :D
If your wanting more ways to spice up your gameplay, I have a save file that i’ve been working on the past couple of years! You can find it here.
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milkybonya · 4 years ago
Text
running away means coming back
Anon: Moonbin x reader where reader is Jinjin’s younger sibling. Reader and Moonbin were dating behind Jinjin’s back, and when Jinjin finds out, he doesn’t approve of them so Moonbin and reader run away until years later when they return and Jinjin isn’t mad anymore.
*i slightly changed this request in order to make it gender neutral :)
Warnings: verbal fighting, a lil angsty at times, mentions of death and food
Word count: 2.7k
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In your bedroom, you quickly reach for your phone since you heard it vibrate. Noticing Moonbin’s name on the screen, you sprawl out on your bed and hurriedly open the message.
i’m coming over today ! with the rest of the boys so they can keep Jinwoo distracted ;)
You hear a knock on the door, so you quickly toss your phone away before Jinjin steps into your room.
“Hey, [y/n], my friends are coming over today so don’t be too annoying, okay?” he says, a serious look on his face. You know he’s joking, though.
“I know!” you say, burying your head in your pillow.
“You knew that my friends were coming or you knew to not be annoying?” Jinjin asks, teasing you.
You groan in response.
“Anyway, just thought I should let you know,” he says, closing your door behind him as he leaves.
An hour later, the doorbell rings, and you jump out of bed but immediately stop yourself. If you run to the front door now, Jinjin will definitely get suspicious. You’ve been dating his friend, Moonbin, in secret for a few months now. Jinjin will definitely not approve, so you’ve had to hide it.
You tap your feet, trying so hard to hold back from rushing to see your boyfriend.
You text Moonbin:
Binnie, when will I be able to see you T-T will u come to my room?
i can’t come there right away, or else Jinwoo will know :(( i’ll be there soon, my dear, just wait <3
You can hear the boys entering the living room. Their shouts and yells echo through the house. To keep yourself distracted, you put on some earphones and watch something on your phone instead.
Downstairs, Moonbin is ready to execute his plan. 
“I’m just going to go to the washroom, okay?” Moonbin says, getting up from the couch.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jinjin says, focused on the game he’s playing with Sanha.
Moonbin quietly runs upstairs and Jinjin is too distracted to ask him why he isn’t using the washroom downstairs.
Your earphones are so loud that you don’t hear Moonbin knock, so he quietly enters your room anyway. You don’t notice his presence until he leans down and kisses the top of your head.
“I’m here!” he whispers, grinning and stretching out his arms.
You pull out your earphones and smile back at him, pulling him into a hug.
“You don’t even understand how much I missed you. Jinwoo is so overprotective and I’m so bad at lying, so every time we try to meet up outside he asks me who I’m meeting and I can’t say it’s you but I also can’t lie-”
Moonbin presses his lips against yours.
“It’s okay,” he says after he pulls away, pressing his forehead against yours. He gently strokes your hair.
“I’m just glad to see you. What have you been up to these days?” Moonbin gets up from the chair that he was sitting on to sit next to you on the bed. He tightly holds your hand as you begin to speak.
Downstairs, Jinjin beat Sanha in the game they were playing. He pumps his fist in the air, yelling happily.
“You cheated!” Sanha says, hitting Jinjin with a pillow.
“You were the one who was cheating and I still won!” Jinjin says, also hitting Sanha with a pillow.
After they calm down, Jinjin notices that someone is missing.
“Where did Moonbin go?” he asks.
The rest of the boys try to hide their panicked faces. They’re aware of the fact that you’re dating Moonbin, so they know that he went upstairs to see you.
“The washroom, remember?” MJ says.
“It’s been fifteen minutes, is he constipated or something?” Jinjin laughs. “Maybe we should check on him.”
He gets up to walk to the washroom, but MJ stops him.
“Hey, let’s not. We don’t wanna embarrass him,” MJ says.
“What do you mean ‘embarrass’? We’re all friends here...”
Behind them, Eunwoo is frantically texting Moonbin.
Come downstairs, now!
Something vibrates by his foot and he picks it up. Moonbin’s phone. He left it behind.
“Hey, can I go upstairs? I wanna see your room,” Eunwoo says, making up an excuse so he can drag Moonbin back downstairs.
“That’s a good idea, let’s all go! There’s something new I bought and I want to show you-”
“No, just bring it downstairs!” MJ shouts.
“Why are you yelling?” Jinjin asks, laughing. “It’s too heavy for me to bring it downstairs, let’s go.”
As he starts to walk up, the rest of the boys are forced to follow him. Sanha tries to go to your room to he can warn you, but Jinjin makes sure everyone is in his room first before he himself enters.
There’s no escape.
Back in your room, Moonbin is making you laugh so hard you feel like your lungs are about to burst. He imitated the way Jinwoo always scolds you.
“You’re so right, Jinwoo always does that!” you laugh, clutching your side.
“Why is [y/n] laughing so loud?” Jinjin asks from his own room. It’s right across from yours down the hallway.
“They must be watching some funny videos or something,” Rocky says, nervously laughing.
“No, they never laugh that hard from a video. Let me go check-”
“No, I’ll go check!” Sanha says, holding Jinjin back.
“Why are you all being suspicious today? Just let me go!” Jinjin pushes Sanha aside and storms towards your room. The boys all run after him, but it’s too late.
He’s opened your door.
And there you are, cuddling against Moonbin’s chest while his lips are pressed to your temple.
“Moon...bin? [y/n]? What... what are you guys doing?” Jinjin asks, flustered.
Everyone tries to think of an excuse, but there’s no way they can cover this up.
“You’re... you two are dating?” Jinjin asks, the pitch of his voice rising. He’s angry.
“Moonbin, what the hell? What are you doing with my sibling? I thought I trusted you!” He runs towards Moonbin, but you throw yourself on top of your boyfriend, leaving no room for Jinjin to hurt him.
“Jinwoo, stop! It’s not a big deal!” you say.
“Not a big deal? Are you kidding me right now? How long has this been going on?”
Eunwoo and Rocky pull Jinjin out of the room, and Moonbin gets up to leave.
“Where are you going?” you ask him.
“I think your brother is really mad at me right now. I shouldn’t stay here any longer.”
“Wait!” you say, holding onto his arm. “I’ll come with you.”
The two of you end up in Moonbin’s red car, driving away.
“I don’t think I can ever face my brother again,” you say.
“Me neither,” Moonbin responds, tightly gripping the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s best if we just don’t see him for a few days.”
You nod.
Somehow, that was the start of you running away with Moonbin, not for just a few days, but for three whole years. The two of you drove silently without any specific direction and found yourselves in a quiet village. That was the place that you decided to call home.
A short, creaky metal gate opens up to a small field of grass and overflowing trees, plants and flowers. Past the green mess stands a small, grey home.
Your home.
You spent three years in that place with Moonbin, selling to the market whatever your small plot of land could grow. The two of you were known as the mysterious, young couple, and no one knew where you had came from.
You never told them.
To this day, you’re still scared of going back. Jinjin’s face on the day you left, the anger, it all scared you. He’s your brother and you love him. You don’t ever want him to be mad at you.
Sometimes, you ask Moonbin if he regrets running away. Each time you ask him, he takes your hands in his, pressing his lips to the back of your hands one by one before saying, “this was all meant to happen for a reason. I’m living my best life here with you.”
Yet you can’t help but notice the times he’s cried at night, sobbing silently. You can’t help but notice him talk in his sleep, murmuring his friends’ names.
Running from Jinjin meant that you had to cut ties with his friends, too, and that was the hardest on Moonbin. Yet he always smiles brightly at you and hugs you. He tells you that he’s okay, that he doesn’t need to go back.
He would always work in the shed behind your house, making something. He never told you what it was, so you never asked, but one day when you stepped inside to clean up, you noticed that amidst the tools, there was a shiny ring.
“What are you doing in here?” Moonbin asked, giving you a back hug.
“Cleaning up. What’s that ring for?”
“You’ll see one day.” Moonbin pressed a kiss to your cheek.
Despite how much you’ve enjoyed being in Moonbin’s presence for every hour of every day, cooking and eating meals together, walking to the market together, spending hours on end doing nothing but burying your face in his chest and smelling his natural scent, it’s time to go back, now. You need to come back to reality.
Moonbin has sacrificed so much for you, and you think that three years is enough for Jinjin to have forgotten about his anger.
So finally, you and Moonbin pack up. 
A few friends from the village help the two of you.
“So will you finally tell us where you’re from and where you’re going?” one of them asks.
Moonbin chuckles, and it’s enough to make your spine tingle and your stomach do backflips from the butterflies.
“I think it’s best if we just stay as we are,” he says.
Once most of the packing is done, your friends leave, and it’s just you and Moonbin again. He pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“These three years felt like a dream,” he says. “I felt like I was in a movie... running away with the person of my dreams? This only happens in movies.”
“But now we’re gonna go back and you can see your friends!” you say, feeling excited.
Suddenly, Moonbin pulls away from you. His hands rest on your shoulders and he looks into your eyes.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” he asks you, his eyebrows knitted together. The white shirt he’s wearing sticks to his arms and chest, showing his defined muscles.
“I’m sure,” you say, and Moonbin hugs you once again.
“I’ll be with you, okay? I’ll do anything I have to do to get Jinjin to agree-”
“Don’t worry,” you say. “He’s my brother. I know how to get him on my side. Maybe I should have just talked to him back then, but things turned out like this. We should go back now, sooner than later.”
Moonbin smiles and nods. He’s proud of your growth.
You used to be afraid of Jinjin, despite how close the two of you were. Because of how overprotective he was, you were always afraid of crossing the line. Moonbin showed you that no lines ever even existed. He showed you that Jinjin wasn’t always right, and that you should be free to do what makes you happy.
Even just two years ago, you were still scared of your brother. But now, you were ready to face him, and instead of apologizing, you were ready to just have a conversation with him.
Deciding that you wanted to move out in the early morning, you and Moonbin went to bed early. He held you close to him for the entire night, his hands rubbing circles on your back.
“[y/n],” he whispered into your ear. “I love you.”
The next morning, you put your few belongings into the same red car that Moonbin still has and drive down the same dirt road, onto the highway towards your hometown. The sky is blue without a single cloud, and you take it to be a sign of good luck.
The bright sun leaks in through your window at some point, and you close your eyes so you can soak it up and feel it on your skin.
Moonbin’s free hand reaches out for yours, and when he finds it, he tightly holds it.
“We’re going hoooome!” he sings softly. You roll down the window and yell the same words he said out into the wind. Moonbin laughs and squeezes your hand tightly.
-
Your heart races as Moonbin enters the driveway of your home, parking behind your parents’ car. He turns off the engine and looks at you with warm eyes.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.
When you nod, he quickly leans forward to give you a kiss, but it feels more like he’s passing on his courage and strength to you. The brushing of his soft lips against yours is enough to make you feel ten times better.
You both climb out of the car at the same time, planting your feet onto the gravel of the driveway. Moonbin quickly scurries over to you and holds your hand before you both walk up to the front door.
Taking a deep breath, you ring the doorbell.
Waiting for a few moments, you wonder if Jinjin is home.
The door swings open, and speak of the devil: there he is. His hair is tousled and he’s got one hand in a bag of chips.
The chips drop to the ground.
“[y/n]?” Jinjin’s jaw drops.
He reaches out to touch your face, trying to make sure you’re real. Then he gives in and just hugs you. He squeezes you so tightly that you feel like you’re about to burst.
“[y/n] it’s really you? Where have you been?”
He pulls away and holds your face in his hands.
“You look okay, have you been eating well? What have you been up to? Why didn’t you answer my calls? Why were you gone for three years?”
Suddenly, the poor boy starts to tear up, and you reach out to hug him again.
“Why would you just leave like that? Do you know what we went through? The boys didn’t let me report you as missing, so I thought you were dead...”
“Jinwoo I’m so sorry,” you say.
You should have came back sooner. You wish you had came back sooner, but you’re glad you didn’t come any later.
You decide to address another important issue.
“Jinwoo, Binnie is here too,” you say, softly. Jinjin immediately pulls away from your embrace and stares coldly to your left, where Moonbin stands. Then, he starts crying again and hugs Moonbin.
“Bin, I can’t believe you just left me too! Without a single word, how could you? Do you know how much I missed you? Do you know how worried I was? What the hell were the two of you even up to?”
“I’m sorry, hyung. It was hard to come back. We tried, but it was hard.”
“It was harder for me,” Jinjin says.
He lets the two of you in, and you awkwardly sit side by side on the couch.
Does this mean Jinjin isn’t mad at me for dating Moonbin?
Jinjin brings you both water before he also sits down.
“You know, you didn’t need to run away that day. I was never mad at you,” Jinjin explains.
“What?!” you exclaim. It’s shocking to you, to think that Jinjin, the overprotective brother, was never mad at you.
“It was shocking, yes. It was weird, absolutely. But I just needed time to process things, that’s all. Of course I wasn’t going to be glad that my brother was dating my sibling, but that doesn’t mean I hated the two of you. I needed time, but not three years! A few days would have been fine.”
“Well with that said,” Moonbin says, getting off the couch and sitting on the ground, one knee raised and one pressed to the ground.
You look at Jinjin who gives you a smile.
Moonbin pulls something out of his pocket and presents it to you. It’s a ring, the same ring you saw him working on in the shed every day for the past three years.
“Do you wanna marry me then, [y/n]? We have your brother’s approval,” he says, smiling brightly like a puppy.
Lost for words, all you can do is hug him.
“Okay, okay, we get it!”Jinjin whines as both of you start to tear up.
But he also makes sure to say “congratulations” before he lets the two of you be.
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