#clearly not painted yet because i am afraid to ruin them

[rishioutpost]

as promised, as voted, mirdy birdy and mr. misdirected aggression

[cursivebloodlines]

The moment she'd seen him, she knew she'd done the right thing, arriving early. To see the look of surprise flash across his face, clearly not expecting her to have been there before him. Lydia noted she should do it more often and maybe she'll try more...which led to another thought: how many times would it take to ruin the element of surprise? Not that she had ever intentionally made it a habit to always be ridiculously late but it had become the norm. So unless she tried to find a new normal. Anyway, why was she still overthinking this? It didn't matter, not really. Even so, the thought made her realise it implied there would be plenty of other times and that made her feel something... something strange. Foreign. A spark of hope. Something she couldn't recall feeling for a long time; it made her feel a thrill of excitement, and yet terrified like she was waiting for the drop on a rollercoaster, waiting for her stomach to do flips. Oh, sort yourself out, Lydia. Please.

"Are you in search of feedback?" Lydia quizzed in jest, her eyebrows quirked up with a teasing grin playing on her lips. "Would you like a grade, too? Do you want me to stick on an assignment for extra credit?" She couldn't resist - Aaron had created the perfect opportunity for her playful quips. "If you must know," she said with an exaggerated sigh after a feigned moment of contemplation, "For now, there are more pros than cons." As much as they were joking around, she was telling him the truth. Not that Lydia would ever have done it differently but... with them, things just felt easy. Seamless, the way they could shoot back and forth in comfortable conversation, zero awkwardness. She didn't have to worry about what she was ever saying - not that she ever did anyway, to be fair, this was Lydia after all - but it felt reassuring to know she hadn't completely bored him yet. There was an equal give and take, both as engaged in the conversation as much as the other instead of one of those irritating scenarios where one made too much effort and the other merely went along with it without contributing anything new to the conversation. It was one of the most natural things she'd felt in a long time. Easy... almost too easy, which still made her err on the side of caution... Not because of him, but more so because of herself. Maybe she was willing to take the chance anyway, one step at a time, bit by bit, no rush. There was a part of her that wanted to advise Aaron that he still shouldn't make promises he couldn't keep...but when he rephrased it in such an eloquent way, his words held with such conviction and sincerity; she wanted to take the plunge, go all in. Her face softened, the smile never leaving her face. "That works for me. And...I promise to do the same." God, why did it feel so cheesy? The thought made her unconsciously wrinkle her nose up, releasing another laugh.

When he laughed, she couldn't help but mirror him by laughing too. What could she say? His laugh was infectious. And his admission had her feeling more than relieved, too. No hiding behind a complex; it was okay to be afraid. That was one of the first and only times he - or anyone - would hear her outrightly confess to being scared. It wasn't like her at all, but his response had him feeling assured. There was no shame in it. "Right? Oh good. That's good. I mean - I know the feeling. I am...very rusty, to tell you the truth. You may need to dust off the cobwebs or iron me out, wrinkle out the creases," she joked. "And sure, we can keep each other in check. If you don't me asking...How long has it been for you?" Lydia asked him curiously, wondering if it had been as long for him as it had for her. Or even longer. Who was the rustiest? She met Aaron's raised brow with a tilt of her head, a sweet smile painted on her lips as if she'd mentioned something ordinary. She wondered what was running through his head in that moment. "You can knock on it if you want,, see if anything is there," she shot back, resting a hand over her chest with a little hint of a grin tugging her lips. "If all you hear is a hollow echo, then you know it's gone for good, unsalvageable. But you can search for scraps if you so wish. Just remember, I warned you." Someone had told her before, that they wouldn't be surprised if someone had removed her heart and replaced it with stone. Lydia took it to heart - no pun intended - but it amused her to play along. Turn it into a joke, they can't use it to hurt you. His question earned another laugh from her, and she reached over to rest her hand against his arm on the table. "Not at all. Believe me, you'd know about it if I were. I just want to make sure you know exactly what the challenge entails. Make sure you know what you're getting yourself into. Think of it as a warning label that says: proceed at your own risk."

He wasn't expecting her to show up before him, Aaron was 99% sure she'd run late. Work usually kept her, and he used the extra time to not rush himself. It was a better take, rather than be annoyed about it. So, imagine his surprise when he showed up and Lydia was standing there waving a thim. It was embarrassing, because now he was the late one. His embarrassment lasted a moment though, her smile when she saw him and the way she waved at him - made it all worth it.

The mug was empty, the drink he ordered was forgotten. He wouldn't be able to answer that if anyone asked. But, everything Lydia had shared tonight was engraved in his mind already. Aaron hummed in consideration, amused by her response. "So, where am I falling in the pros and cons list?" An A+ grade would be great, but he'd even take the minimum. A passing grade, a chance is all he wanted. "Yeah, that's maybe not the best promise to make. I might just be jinxing it by saying that. I can rephrase, I won't do anything that can bring you pain. Circumstances might hurt us, but I won't. I'll try not to." A lot of rephrasing from his initial promise, but life often was that way. Aaron had learned that the hard way. Something he had mentioned to her, though he didn't expect to. Still, Aaron knew the topic was fair game now. If she wanted to know about it, he'd answer. "If that works for you." He could promise her the moon and stars, but it only worked if she accepted it. Her question caused a laugh to tumble from his lips, grateful for the confession. "No! I am scared shitless. I haven't really done any of this..in a long while. And, my track record just isn't great. I think it's nice, that we're both a bit afraid. it might help us keep each other accountable." A brow raised, a bit confused by the comment. Why did she think that about her heart? Who had caused her to think this way? "Hm, I'll have to disagree with you. I'm sure your heart is in there somewhere, maybe super hidden." Possibly bruised and hiding, but it had to be in there. Don't we all? "Are you trying to deter me from accepting the challenge?"

[babyboibucky]

Slut Fest Day 5 - Noncon

Pairing: TWS!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k yeah this is a full oneshot lmao

Warnings: Dark!Bucky obviously, fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, creampie, implied suicidal thoughts, use of a knife, mentions of wound and blood

A/N: This is the first time I wrote a full noncon fic so feedback is very much welcome!!! This will have a second part which is tomorrow’s prompt, Breeding

Slut Fest Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Your vision was hazy when you first opened your eyes, the splitting headache and body pain that came along with it almost made you think that you were merely having a hangover.

Almost.

Flashes of the previous night flooded your brain, you could only recall bits and pieces of what went down. You were at a club with your friends, lots of shots and dancing; there was a man in a black shirt that danced with you. He was ruggedly handsome and well-built with dark hair and a rough voice.

You searched your memories for a name...was it Brian? No, it was far from that. Brock? Yeah, you were confident that his name was Brock.

He danced with you that night and you were sure that he had asked whether you wanted to go somewhere private. And that’s where everything had gone to black.

Blinking helped you with your vision and now you can clearly see that you weren’t in your room. Looking around, you realized that you were in a cell. It was dark and damp, with only a single fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling above.

The pain in your shoulder and arms made you want to stretch but to no avail because it was only now that you discovered that your wrists were restrained and tied above your head. You were almost standing on your tiptoes with how high you were tied up, explaining the cause of your body ache.

“No, no...is someone out there?!” you screamed in panic as your mind finally understood what was going on.

“Please? Help me!” you yelled, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you tugged at your wrist.

The echo of your voice was the only response you received. Up until you heard heavy footsteps approaching from afar. Your lips trembled in fear as you waited for someone to emerge from the dark.

And there he was, the man from last night, Brock. But he wasn’t alone.

In front of Brock was a man who was way taller and bigger than him— long brunette locks covered his face and if that wasn’t enough to keep his identity hidden, he had to be wearing a black mask as well.

It wasn’t just his large built and mysterious look that piqued your interest, it was his left arm. It was made out of what seemed to be metal; there was a red star painted on the shoulder.

“Good, you’re awake. Didn’t want to keep the Soldat waiting.” Brock said as he pushed the man inside the cell.

“Who the fuck are you?! Why am I here?!” you spat at Brock as you watched him close the cell door before locking it once more.

Brock merely smirked, “You were at the right place at the wrong time, baby. Needed to reward our asset with a little something, thought you looked like the perfect present.” he chuckled darkly.

“Soldat, she’s all yours.”

Those words made your bile rise up to your throat and the presence of the metal-armed man didn’t help you with your fear. You threw up all of a sudden, coughing as your tears began to fall endlessly.

“Please...please don’t.” it was all you could utter as you shook your head.

The sound of the Soldat’s heavy boots crushing the ground made your heart beat twice as fast. You probably looked pathetic, tugging at your wrists despite knowing that it was futile. The closer the Soldat was, the more you moved and thus, the weaker you got.

“Whoever you are, please...just help me out.” you pleaded.

The Soldat stopped when he was a feet away from you and suddenly, your breath hitched in your throat. His eyes were the bluest you’d seen and despite his intimidating appearance, they held a certain softness in them.

“I don’t know who you are but I know you don’t want to do this.” you softly said, hoping that he’d change his mind.

Your body jolted in shock when Soldat spoke, his voice was low and gravelly— hoarse even, like he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Такой красивый подарок.”

Such a pretty gift.

He lifted his metal hand and you flinched, afraid that he was going to hurt you. But he merely took your chin and wiped your bottom lip clean. Soldat was so close that you could hear his heavy breathing beneath his mask.

“Стоит ли мне развернуть подарок сейчас?”

Should I unwrap my present now?

“I...I don’t understand you.” you croaked out.

The way his blue eyes turned dark in a split second brought your fear back. Just like that, the softness he had turned into something so perverse, it sent shivers down your spine. You were about to say something when the Soldat gripped the neckline of your dress with his metal hand, tearing it open effortlessly leaving you in nothing but a pair of bra and underwear.

You screamed and tried to kick him but he was so much stronger than you. He didn’t even budge when your feet landed on his thigh. If any, your defiance triggered him and only placed you in a much more dangerous situation.

“I beg you, please…don’t do this.” you cried and cried.

A squeal escaped your lips when Soldat grabbed your face in his flesh hand, squeezing your cheeks as his eyes roamed around your face, taking in all of your features. His thumb grazed your mouth, tugging your bottom lip down before he spoke again, but this time, in a language you finally understood.

“Suck.”

Tears streaked down your cheeks as you shook your head but when you felt his hand tighten around your face, you were left with no choice but to obey. Letting out a shaky breath, you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked.

Soldat hummed before you felt his thumb press down on your tongue. He moved his thumb in and out of your mouth before letting go of your face and taking a small step back away from you.

You hoped he had a change of heart. He didn’t.

You let out a gasp when you saw him take out a knife from one of his holsters, skillfully flipping it before bringing it close to your face. You’d never known fear like this before, it was extremely horrifying.

It felt like you were face to face with the god of death himself.

“Don’t kill me, please! Please let me go, please...I’m not going to say anything to the police, I swear. I’ll stay quiet, I promise.” you sobbed.

Your pleas fell on deaf ears; the Soldat wiped away your tears before he dragged the tip of his knife from your neck down to the strap of your bra, slicing it before moving onto the next, letting it fall to the ground, leaving you bare for him.

There was nothing else you could do to escape and yet you tugged and tugged at your wrists, ignoring the stinging pain from how the restraints were now digging onto your skin. Your wails were unheard and the more you screamed for help, the more helpless you felt.

The Soldat moved to slice the sides of your underwear before tearing them off of you, throwing the fabric behind him. He took a step back, as if admiring his present before him and he loved it.

He loved seeing you like that, vulnerable and helpless. All for him to use, to take and to ruin.

A cold hand ran up from your hip to your ribs, the coolness of the metal making your entire body shiver. A soft sob echoed in the cell when the Soldat cupped your breast before his fingers pinched a nipple, making you cry out.

Your body was responding to his touches despite your protests and it was making you frustrated. You didn’t want this and yet your body craved for more, needed more from him.

The Soldat’s hand traveled to do the same to your other breast before sliding down to your abdomen, making you hiss at the cold sensation. His eyes met yours the same time he cupped your mound.

Your body jumped up as you cried, feeling his fingers rub at your cunt. You begged him to stop but at the same time, you wanted him to continue. Everything was a blur to you now; your pussy began to weep for the same man you wanted to run away from.

Biting your lip, you tried your hardest not to make a sound. Warmth crept up to your face when your hips began to move on their own, grinding against the Soldat’s hand as he continued to rub your folds at a slow, steady pace.

You felt ashamed. You weren’t supposed to feel good and yet you did.

The Soldat seemed to have noticed that you were holding back because he suddenly pressed his thumb against your clit at the same time he slid his middle finger in. The intrusion was enough to make you whimper, something that urged Soldat to keep going.

“N-no…” you whined.

He pumped his finger in and out of your cunt in a quicker pace until you felt your wetness dripping down your thighs. You cried and refused to look at him in the face so you rested your forehead against your arm.

Your body was giving up from how you were restrained, your arms were starting to feel numb and your legs were trembling both from pleasure and from trying to support your entire weight on your toes.

“S-soldat…” you unintentionally called out his name when he added another finger in.

It stirred something darker within the man, something primal and feral that made you want to just die right then and there. Perhaps it was better for him to kill you.

He continued to finger your cunt while rubbing your clit in circles, faster and faster until you were crying out both from shame and from your release. Wetness gushed out of your pussy, soaking his metal hand. He pulled his fingers out of your cunt and stuck it into your mouth, muffling your sobs.

“Я хочу попробовать тебя в следующий раз.”

I want to taste you next time.

The Soldat was quick to remove his fingers from your mouth, only to move them towards the zipper of his pants. Your eyes widened as you watched him take his cock out, pumping it a couple of times before he stood close to you.

You shook your head, “I don’t want this, please. Soldat, please…”

“Продолжай умолять, милая девушка.”

Keep begging, pretty girl.

In one swift motion, the Soldat hoisted your legs to wrap around his waist before sliding his cock into your pussy. You gasped out loud at the sudden stretch, your brows furrowing into your forehead at the stinging pain. The Soldat was relentless and didn’t give you time to adjust.

He kept on taking and taking and taking until nothing was left from you.

His cock was huge, it filled you up like never before. It stretched you out to the point of pain, making you sob out loud. Your lip began to bleed from how hard you were biting down on it, you were giving it your all not to moan but one particular thrust rendered your efforts a failure.

You moaned out loud when the tip of his cock hit your cervix, making your body tremble from the pleasure that shot through your veins. Your toes curled and your hands balled into fists when the Soldat kept on hitting that particular spot.

He started groaning and cursing in the same language he had been speaking. His hands on your hips were tight as he brought your body down on his cock each time he thrusted into you. Your restraints kept on jangling above you, as if they were mocking you and the way your body was reacting to the Soldat.

The Soldat sped up his thrusts, fucking you harder and deeper until you were gasping for air. His cock was punching the air out of you and with the heat building up in your abdomen, it was becoming difficult to breathe.

Your entire body was covered with a sheen of sweat while your face was drenched with your tears. You threw your head back when the Soldat brought his thumb to your clit, pressing down on it.

Looking up at your wrists, you noticed how wounded they already were. Small droplets of blood began to drip from your wrists down to your arm. You closed your eyes and refused to watch the Soldat’s assault on your body.

“Please, stop…” you softly begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

The Soldat didn’t stop and only went faster until you were a sobbing mess. Your body shook when your orgasm hit you wave after wave. You ended up crying out his name as you finished, drenching his cock with your juices.

His grunts were becoming louder and his thrusts sloppier. You knew that he was close and you didn’t want him to finish inside of you. You tried to move your hips away but he was too strong and managed to hold you in place as he fucked you until his balls tightened.

Two more thrusts and he was done, groaning out loud as you felt ropes of his cum fill you up. Your whine turned into a full cry when you realized that you were done for.

Just like that, the Soldat pulled out of you and tucked his cock back into his pants.

Your body had given up and you allowed yourself to just hang limply, ignoring the throbbing pain on your shoulders. At this rate, you were sure that your shoulders were already injured from having been restrained like that for hours.

Your cries died down into hiccups, you’d completely given up. The feeling of the Soldat’s release tainting your legs as it dripped out of your abused cunt was a clear indication that you’d lost everything.

The Soldat lifted your head up with his metal hand; he caressed your cheekbones gently as he finally removed his mask, revealing his face to you.

You were on the verge of passing out when he showed you his face, the last thing you saw before your vision turned  black.

The Soldat truly was the god of death.

[maybanksbitch]

Protector || JJ Maybank

* this is not my gif; all credit goes to the owner.

pairing: jj x reader

prompt: jj promised you he’d stop getting into pointless fights, but a night when you’re not there, he breaks it. he can’t hide how he feels about you anymore.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, violence, blood

a/n: do i kinda hate how i wrote this? yes. am i going to delete it? nah.

Your phone had been blowing up all night. You had eleven missed calls from John B, 7 from Pope and 3 from Kiara. You had over a hundred unread texts from the three of them combined. You had to turn your phone off at some point after your boss threatened to fire you if he heard one more chime.

By the time you’d finally clocked out, it was two hours later. You turned your phone back on and stood there for a good two minutes as the notifications rolled in. You glanced over texts and felt your blood boil when you got the gist of them.

There had been a party at the Boneyard that night, one you had to miss. Money was tight and your parents needed you to start pulling some weight. JJ had been in another fight. He promised you he would try to control himself better after the gun incident, but clearly he was incapable of that.

You let out a sigh as you slung your bag over your shoulder and hopped on your bike. You pedaled the familiar way to the Chateau, thinking of all the ways you were going to rip your blonde friend a new asshole.

You pulled up outside the house and dropped your bike in the front yard. You burst through the front door, startling Pope and Kiara who stood at the wooden kitchen table. John B was leaning against the wall, a tired look on his face and a PBR in his hand.

“Finally,” Kiara sighed and walked over to give you a welcoming hug.

“We’ve been trying to reach you for hours!” Pope exclaimed in an accusing manor.

You gave the dark skinned boy a look and painted a sarcastic smile across your lips. “Yeah, I know. Greg nearly fired me because y’all wouldn’t shut up,” you retorted.

John B just stared at you from across the room. He had a fresh bruise on the right side of his jaw near his chin as well as dried blood near his left eyebrow. You walked over, reaching up to brush his hair away and inspect the split skin on his forehead. He pulled back and met your eye, shaking his head slightly.

“Where is he?” you asked as you dropped your bag on the kitchen table and went for the spare room.

“He’s outside,” John B grumbled, taking a long drink from his beer.

You turned with your eyebrows creased in confusion. Kiara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she spoke, “We told him he couldn’t come back in until he had a level head.”

It clicked in your brain in that moment. John B’s injuries weren’t from fighting Kooks. They were from fighting JJ. That infuriated you even more. What could have possibly happened for the blonde to want to fight his own best friend?

You turned without another word and pushed the screen door open forcefully. You stepped out onto the back patio and looked around. You saw a mess of blonde hair on the hammock not far away. JJ knew it was you and didn’t dare turn his head to acknowledge you. He could practically feel the anger radiating off of you.

“What in the hell did we talk about?” you sneered as you stormed over to your best friend. He stayed in the same position, head turned towards the water, arms crossed over his chest. “JJ, look at me.”

“I really don’t want to do this right now,” was the response you got.

A sarcastic laugh left your lips as you walked around to the other side of the hammock, forcing the blonde to look at you. “Well that’s too damn bad. Have you seen John B’s face? What’s gotten into you?!” you questioned, voice desperate as you tried to get the boy to talk to you.

JJ simply sniffed once and shrugged his shoulders a bit. You felt your hands start shaking. He was trying to brush you off and hope you would just let it go, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“JJ, you can’t just start swinging every time someone looks at you the wrong way! I thought we had an understanding. If you keep getting assault charges, one day they won’t just let you walk! I know the Kooks are absolute pains in the ass, but sometimes you just have to let it go!” you tried to reason with him.

The opposite happened. A switch flipped in JJ because you had no idea what happened. He leapt off he hammock faster than you could blink, voice like thunder as he shouted, “You don’t know what they said about you!”

You were shocked, taking a step back as one of your hands came up defensively to your chest. You blinked slowly as you stared at the enraged blonde. He was breathing heavily through his nose, hands clenched so hard at his sides his knuckles were white and you were sure his nails were drawing blood.

“What?”

“Rafe, Topper, Kelce.. All those pieces of shit!” JJ threw his arm, knuckles cracking against the tree. He was trying to divert his anger away from you. “The things they said about you. About your body. About using you!”

His arm went to swing again but you grabbing his bicep before his fist connected with the tree again. You were afraid he was going to break his hand at this point. The sob you heard JJ let out nearly ripped you in two. You went in there, guns blazing, when you didn’t know what happened. He was trying to defend you; protect you.

“Oh, J,” you whispered, placing your hand on the side of his face. You pulled him down and forced his head against your chest then wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders.

“I blacked out, (Y/N). They wouldn’t stop saying those things and I lost it. I just kept picturing them hurting you,” JJ cried into your chest, tears soaking through your shirt but you didn’t care.

“It’s okay, JJ, it’s okay,” you mumbled, reaching one hand up to thread through his hair. You could feel grains of sand against his scalp, surly from being thrown around by heartless Kooks.

JJ sniffles and lifted his head, teary blue eyes meet your e/c’d ones. His bottom lip quivered and he closed his eyes to try and will himself to stop crying. His voice cracked as he tried to talk again, “I didn’t mean to hurt John B either, promise. I was just still so angry when we got back here. He didn’t help me. He didn’t help me defend you.”

You smiled sadly and placed both of your hands on JJ’s face, wiping his tears away with your thumbs. He slowly opened his eyes to look at you again. The amount of love and adoration you saw in them damn near took your breath away.

“It’s not John B’s job to defend me, babe. It’s not yours either. No one has to defend me,” you whispered, fingers threading together on the back of JJ’s neck.

The blonde boy leant forward until his forehead was resting against yours. Soft breaths left his parted lips and spread across your face like a blanket. He smelled like cigarettes, marijuana and beer mixed with sunscreen and saltwater; your favorite scent. His scent.

JJ moved to his own accord, ignoring his brain screaming at him not to do it. You’ll make things weird. You’ll ruin everything. She won’t love you back. He ignored it all and nudged his head forward until your lips connected. You could have sworn you saw fireworks go off behind your eyelids. Every nerve ending your body flared up and tingled. Your lips fit together like pieces of a missing puzzle.

No wonder neither of you could figure out why it felt so weird hooking up with Tourons this whole time.

When you pulled away, breathless and dizzy, you opened your eyes to find JJ’s already on you. The widest smile he’d ever seen spread across your face, a giggle slipping past your teeth. A simple ‘wow’ was whispered between you both. An equally large grin enveloped JJ’s face as well. He pecked your lips roughly five more times before pulling back completely and rubbing his hands over his wet face.

You wrapped your arms around the skinny yet muscular boy’s waist and rested your head on his chest now, listening to the steadying beat of his heart. You felt at home in his arms.

“I think you should apologize to John B, or we’ll be sleeping out here tonight,” you mumbled into the soft fabric of his long sleeve shirt.

“As long as I’m sleeping with you, I don’t care,” he retorted, slender arms encasing you. You tilted your head up and gave him a look that said ‘I will not be sleeping out here with the mosquitoes’ and he let out a small laugh. “Okay, yeah, I should apologize.”

The two of you walked hand in hand back into the Chateau, JJ’s head hung sheepishly as he met John B’s eye. Moral of the story, you ended up in the spare room, tucked under a tan blonde’s arm; where you belonged.

masterlist

[outivv]

Boy do I have an angsty request for you :D So The Boys confess their love to their crush, but she asks them if they take her for a fool, because she believes that they're using her as a substitute for someone they couldn't have. Like Zhongli with Guizhong and Dainsleif with Lumine, etc. She doesn't believe they love her because she's been in a toxic relationship like that before, and it left her heartbroken. Just sum angst with maybe sum comfort. Also congrats on 801 followers! ＼(≧▽≦)／♡

Synopsis: it’a happened a few too many times, being used as a replacement. So when (idk insert a character from the tall boys group) confessed to her, she doesn’t believe it.

Warnings: angst, and mentions of a toxic relationship, I also made y/n a bit... bitchy(?) in the beginning of kaeyas part. Flat out I made them kinda rude.

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: zhongli, Diluc, childe, kaeya, and Dainsleif

Pronouns for reader: she/ her (I assume that’s what you wanted... if not then I apologize)

A/n: I am in love with this request oh my god. Zhongli and guizhongs relationship pains me so much, like all of the fanart and headcanons for them it just ahhh. Makes me so sad. But aside from that, thank you for congratulating me it means a lot ☺️. It’s a lot of fun seeing how far I’ve come, and with that I hope you enjoy and take care of yourself! Remember to eat something if you haven’t and drink water you amazing human!!! <3

— zhongli —

Zhongli built up the courage to confess to you while stargazing one night. Only to have his hopes and dreams crushed. You though he was lying? He was using you? Why would he ever do such a thing to someone he admired and loved?

“I know your past relationship with guizhong... I’m not an idiot zhongli. I know that you’re going to use me to get over her.” You said coldly with a deadpan expression.

He didn’t understand... how could you think that he’d hold on for that long. He loved her once, but then... then he didn’t. It was hard to explain his feelings, but he knew that it was different with you. He didn’t know how to express that though.

Zhongli pondered for a second before saying, “I wouldn’t do such a thing even if I still loved her. I’ve moved on, and I want to be with you now. My words are true and are straight from the heart.” You still were hesitant though.

You wanted to be with zhongli, but were too scared to be. Past relationships made you have trust issues when it came to giving someone access to your feelings. Because you’d let them in only for them to move on from you weeks later. You were the recovery girl, the practice dummy, only there to get their confidence back.

Zhongli wouldn’t treat you like that though... would he? He could see the gears in your head turning with worry, so he cupped your face in his hands and said, “I would never say something I didn’t mean. Especially something as serious as this.” And kissed your forehead.

Butterflies formed in your stomach at the closeness, and you could feel yourself getting emotional. You hugged him tightly, and nodded, a way of saying that you trust him. He wouldn’t take your trust for granted.

— childe —

Childe wouldn’t like to admit it but he’s had few partners in the past. Being more focused on fatui work, and not wanting to hurt anyone. You had him wrapped around your finger though. He’s never felt this connected, and emotionally attached to someone. It took him a while to sort out his feelings but here he is, confessing to you.

As soon as the words left his mouth he felt a weight lift off of his shoulder, only to be replaced with a nauseous feeling growing in his stomach. “Childe... I know what happened with your last partner. I’m not going to be a replacement.” Replacement? Is that how you thought he viewed you...

Before he could think he said, “no! It’s not like that you’re way more than just a replacement! I haven’t spoken to them in ages, I don’t even know where they are now... how can I still be in love with them.” He made a valid point. You still were cautious though.

Not wanting to get your heart broken again you took baby steps. Your heart was fragile, and surrounded by walls to protect it. It took a lot to break down those walls, but maybe, just maybe could childe do it.

“I haven’t felt this attached to someone, I know that sounds stupid, or cliche, but that is truly how I feel.” He said pouring his heart out. He took your hands into his and looked into your eyes, his own bright blue ones full of love and honesty.

“I’ve loved you since I first saw you. I tried to get your attention many times, and now I finally have it, do you really think I’d lie about anything that I’m saying?” He said, his voice hushed, and his face painted with a smile.

You muttered a no, looking away from his intense gaze. “Well there you have it!” He shouted, a contrast to his previous attitude. “Do you believe me now?” He gently grabbed your chin to make you look at him. He smiled goofily waiting for an answer. How could you saw no to him when he looked so excited?

— kaeya —

Kaeya has been with many lovers in the past, none of them were serious relationships, he never quite found the right person. Until you.

It took a long time for kaeya to confess to you, afraid to get rejected, and break an amazing friendship he built up. His fear was proved to be correct when he confessed to you though. “Kaeya I know about your past lover. They wouldn’t shut up about you...” you said your arms crossed “I know that I’m just the rebound, they still talk about you after months, clearly they still like you. Why go for me when you can go back to them hm? You’d probably do it in a week anyways.”

Wow... he didn’t know you thought so... horribly of him. For once kaeya was speechless, he was so hurt that he couldn’t think straight. “I wouldn’t go back to them even if I was forced to. Why would you think that of me...” Kaeya said speaking the truth. He hated his most previous lover, they were a god awful person, so he left them.

“That’s what everyone does. They get with me, and then leave when they’ve regained their confidence and go get the girl that they originally wanted, or go back to their ex.. as simple as that.” You said coldly. You were treated like a doll to be tossed around, and mistreated until the person got what they wanted from you. You weren’t about to get your heart torn to shreds by someone you came to love.

Kaeya was shocked even more by your words. Were you really treated that way? He felt angry, and hurt all at the same time. He looked at you apologetically, and pulled you into a hug. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Ever. I wouldn’t take this long to confess to someone if I didn’t really care about them.” He said putting his hand on your head. You could feel tears pricking your eyes at his sudden show of affection. You’ve come to trust kaeya with your life, so his words meant something to you.

“Seriously it took me ages to do this.” He said with a chuckle, an attempt to lighten the mood a bit. You let out a laugh yourself, pulling away from his hug and rubbing your eyes. He truly did know how to put a smile on your face.

— Diluc —

Diluc contemplated his feelings for you for months. He didn’t want to get his own heart broken, and he never had been in a serious relationship with someone. He’s never wanted to be in a serious relationship with someone. He was the most sought after bachelor in all of mondstadt, and he had no interest in anyone. Until you.

He wanted to make sure what he was feeling was love, and not a... strong yearning to be your friend. Oddly enough he’s never had that feeling either.

He confessed to you one night, showing you a beautiful sight of the ocean from stormbearer point. He oddly loved the ocean, so he thought it was a perfect place to confess to you. Sadly you rejected him. His heart sank and he felt embarrassed.

Though he held his composure, and asked, “I... I see. May I ask... why?” He wanted at least some sort of explanation. He thought he was owed that at least? “Diluc. You’re the most sought after man in all of mondstadt, you could, or better yet would, leave me in a week.” You said bluntly.

He.. didn’t understand. He had paid no mind to any of the people who wanted him, and finally he had some sort of attraction to someone and they say he’d leave her in a moments notice? Why would he ever do that? “I’ve... I haven’t felt this way about anyone. Why would I leave you for someone I don’t even like?” Diluc said confused.

You looked at him sadly and coldly, “because you can.” You said shortly “you can, and then you’d be just like everyone else.” Everyone else? What did you mean everyone else?

Diluc walked closer to you, and put his hand on the back of your head saying, “I don’t know what you mean by everyone else, but I can assure you I’m not like them. I’ve never felt anything close to this until I met you.” His words were from the heart, and you could tell.

Diluc was a man to speak what was on his mind, and to speak the truth. Even he knows not to play with someone’s feelings. He wouldn’t go out of his way to cause someone pain, he’s too familiar with the feeling himself. He would only treat you with the utmost care, and you could relax and let your guard down around him.

— Dainsleif —

Dainsleif is a man who has seen many people in his lifetime, only truly growing romantically attached to you. He loved once in the past but... they turned out to be... on the wrong side.

Traveling with him for about a year made him trust you, as you trusted him. It also made him love you, as you hopefully loved him. He confessed one rainout night as you took shelter in a ruin in liyue.

He could feel his jaw drop and his heart sink when you said, “dain... I can’t... I don’t want you to leave me... I... I care about you. A lot. And I don’t want to lose you.” Your voice was shaky and sad. His heart broke hearing it.

“Why would you lose me? I want to stay with you, that’s why I’m saying this.” He said starting to get worried. You looked at the ground in front of you, snuggling into the blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders before saying, “that always leave... so I left for once. I left my hometown and started traveling with you...” your voice started to crack as tears started to form in your eyes. “I don’t want to go back there. I want to stay with you, and travel and...” you cut yourself off with your own sob.

You truly cared about dain, and you’ve grown rather attached to him. But you had an inkling feeling that he’d leave you like your past lovers. His heart broke for a second time that night, and he scooted closer to you wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, and kissing the top of your head.

“I wouldn’t leave you. Especially not when I’ve come this attached to you.” He said kissing the crown of your head once more. You have felt more at home traveling teyvat with Dainsleif than you have in the very twin that you grew up in.

[silkling]

Hey, Can you make (Bayverse) Starscream meets (TFP) Knock Out?

Knock Out came to with an aching helm and a curse on his lips. He groaned as he sat up, one palm dressing to his forehead and blinking away the static overlaying his vision. He looked around himself once he could see clearly, pausing when he noticed that he was in the middle of an organic forest. The realization made his upper lip curl faintly, and he looked down at himself. And that was when he froze in horror. His finish! It was ruined! There were scrapes in the paint and he was covered in all manner of dirt and other organic filth. He hated it. The medic scowled as he stood, red optics shining with rage. Whoever was responsible for this was going to pay very dearly, he decided. For now, though, he had to get back to base.

He paused as he heard jet engines overhead, optics narrowing. Now, was that one of the little squishies or was it one of the Decepticons? That question was answered when there was the sound of a transformation and a heavy metal form crashed through the tree tops to land in front of him. A red gaze landed on him, and Knock Out could see rage and disgust building in the flyer’s optics before he paused. The look was replaced with confusion and suspicion, and then he spoke.

“Autobots do not usually have red optics.” he growled, voice deep and with a permanent growl woven into it. “Yet I know of no Decepticon who wears such bright colors.” Those optics narrowed to pinpricks. “Speak, stranger. Who are you?”

It was at this point the medic paused. How did this flyer not know who he was? Knock Out was the only proper doctor in the entirety of the Decepticon army. (No, Hook did not count. He did not have the training or the license, for all he had the learned skill). All the others had been offlined in the War. He would have thought that every bot on either side knew him, if only because they knew what he was.

“I am Knock Out.” he said carefully. “And who are you?”

The flyer grinned here, the look savage and far to gleeful for his comfort. “I am Starscream, second in command of the Decepticons!” he announced.

Knock Out blinked slowly, once, twice, then a third time, before fury twisted his features and he let loose a litany of vicious, filthy curses in Cybertronian, combining several dialects and even throwing in one or two curses from the dead languages he’d enjoyed studying in his youth. It made Starscream rear back, optics wide with shock and and EM field buzzing with disbelief. After several long minutes, in which the Seeker could only stare in a growing sense of horrified fascination, (wait, Knock threatened to do what with an engine and an intake? Ouch. Starscream did not want to be in the place of whatever poor fool as angered the bright red Cybertronian), the Aston Martin spit out one last curse before his expression smoothed over and he turned to the Seeker. Starscream, by this point, had taken several steps back and was now hoping that this bot wouldn’t turn his ire on him.

“So sorry about that.” Knock Out said lightly. “I’m afraid I just understood how I got here, and the mech responsible for this mess is going to feel every bit of my wrath when I return.”

Starscream blinked. “I…see.” he said carefully.

Knock Out smirked. “I don’t think you do, so allow me to re-introduce myself.” He stepped forward, crossing an arm across his chest. “My name is Knock Out.” he said with a flourish. “Chief medic to the Decepticons.” he finished his introduction with a dramatic bow.

Starscream sneered. “Impossible!” he snarled. “The Decepticons have no medic. Our last one was offlined by Optimus Prime. This must be some puny Autobot trick!

Knock Out blinked. “Goodness, Sweet Rims actually offlined a bot that wasn’t just a Vehicon drone?” he mused. “This really is different.”

The Seeker reared back, reeling over the fact that this so-called “medic” had just called Optimus Prime Sweet Rims, of all things. Then the second statement caught up to him and he frowned. “Different.” he repeated in a deadpan.

“Yes!” Knock Out threw his hands to the air, the gesture wide and dramatic. “You see, my dear Starscream,” he purred, clasping his hands behind his back. “I am from another dimension entirely.”

Well, that was a new one.

“Explain.”

“In my world, the Great War between the Decepticons and Autobots ended up being brought to a small organic planet called Earth. I assume it’s the same here.” he said, gesturing around them. “Recently, Lord Megatron, that is, my Lord Megatron became aware of the existence of the Iacon Relics. They’re powerful artifacts that were stored in the vaults of Iacon before it’s destruction, and sent away from the planet before they could come into Decepticon possession.” he said. “Lord Megatron learned that possessing the relics granted whoever had them a rather significant advantage, especially certain specific relics like the Relics of the Primes.”

Starscream snorted. “Get to the point.”

Knock Out sighed dramatically. “Oh, very well.” he drawled. “The point is: myself and my partner were sent to retrieve a relic that had only just began putting out a detectable signal. According to our data files on it, it had been created by the old Senate before the war. Unfortunately, the research notes on the subject were corrupted, but what little of the research was clear suggested that the device had been created to study the multiverse theory.” Here, he paused and glanced around himself. “Given that you’re Starscream, and the Starscream I know looks nothing like you, and you do not know me, and the Decepticons have no medic…” he trailed off, raising his hands, palms up as he shrugged. “It would seem that the device was for more than just researching the multiverse theory. The last thing I remember is grabbing it and making for the ground bridge, only for that Pit damned Wrecker to shoot the device in hopes of keeping it from falling into Decepticon hands. Then there was a flash of light and a surge of energy, and what do you know, I’m waking up here!” he finished, through his arms out with a flourish.

Starscream frowned. That…actually lined up. He had been sent ahead of Sideways and Barricade, who were also on their way to this location, because the sensors at the hidden Decepticon base had picked up a surge of unknown energy. If Knock Out was the cause of that surge, and given the fact he was here at its location he might very well be, then it would stand to reason that his story was actually true. Even aside from that, Starscream could pick up no deception in his field or EM field. Granted, bots could still lie even without their voices or fields giving it away, but Starscream was a master at lying, and prided himself on being able to sniff out deception like a turbo-fox sniffing out cyber-rats. Nothing he could tell suggested Knock Out was lying. Which meant his story was, at the very least, partly true.

“I see.” he said, voice devoid of any intonation.

The medic narrowed his optics at the seeming non-reaction, his arms crossing almost delicately in front of his chassis. Something about the way this Starscream had said that made his instincts itch. He didn’t like it. This version of the Air Commander was so very different from his. His Starscream was more skittish and wary, though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, given how his Megatron treated his second in command, the Aston Martin was entirely unsurprised at his Starscream’s more lacking confidence. As of late, Lord Megatron had been….well, even more unhinged than usual. Given how Megatron had taken to lashing out at Starscream for ever petty grievance, it was no wonder the more lithe Seeker was jumpy. This Starscream had many of the same core personality traits, from what he could see, but his behavior was quite a bit different.

“You needn’t worry about me causing any issues in your world.” he said airily, forcing his processor back in track. He dusted some dried dirt of off arm, lip curling upwards in disgust as the stuff flaked off his armor. “I’ll find a place to lay low and stay out of sight of any locals, be it Cybertronian or human. I’m certain Lord Megatron will either fix the device if it was broken or retrieve it if it was stolen and find a way to bring me back.” he said airily. His tone was confident, and though his words sounded like it, he wasn’t bragging.

It was a fact. The Decepticons needed him. None of the others knew how to do proper medical care. Breakdown could certainly perform the simpler procedures, and most soldiers knew basic field care, but Knock Out was the only one who could handle the injuries that went beyond that. Without him, the Decepticons of his world wouldn’t be able to heal their injured soldiers, which would mean more ‘Cons would die and they’d eventually deplete their numbers enough to put the Autobots at an advantage. As vain as it may sound, Knock Out knew that, right after Megatron and Soundwave, he was the most essential member of the Decepticon forces when it came to keeping the faction running,

Starscream clearly didn’t like his tone of voice, however, because the Seeker growled in displeasure. “Oh? And what makes you so certain?”

Knock Out snorted, one optic ridge arching up. “Oh, don’t get so sour.” he admonished. “I told you, I am the Chief Medic to the Decepticons. I am also, however, their only medic. I can put mechs back together from scrap metal, if I must.” he made a vague gesture with his hand. “I do not mean to sound so vain, but I am very much needed by the Decepticon forces back home.” he said airily. “I’m the only trained, licensed medic they have, after all.”

Starscream stared at him for a long moment, and Knock Out did not like the suddenly considering look in his sharp gaze. “I see.” he narrowed his eyes. “So you’re a skillful medic, then?”

The red mech paused. “I’m not as good as Ratchet,” he said carefully. “But I was in the top of the field before the War broke out.”

Starscream smirked, then, the expression showing just a hint of teeth. Knock about suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. “I see.” the Seeker repeated, sounding sickeningly pleased.

There was the sound of pede steps behind them, and two mechs stepped out from the foliage. Starscream lifted his gaze, head tilting with a dark grin. “Barricade, Sideways.” he hummed. “I see you finally made it.” He flashed teeth in an expression that bordered on a sneer. “I’d like you two to meet Knock Out,” He gestured at the increasingly tense medic. “Our newest medic.” He finished with a vicious grin.

Knock Out tensed, his armor plating clamping closed and tight. Oh, he’d been right. He didn’t like this. “Excuse me?” he hissed.

He was ignored. The two new mechs glanced at each other, then looked at him, clearly unimpressed. “He’s a medic? He’s very…bright. Is he a ‘Bot? The silver one asked, sounding dubious.

Starscream hummed. “No, Knock Out here is a certified Deception medic. We’ve been unable to fix any injured warriors properly ever since Prime took out Scalpel. Our new friend here is from…somewhere else.” he smirked. “But he should fill Scalpels’s pedes quite well.”

The black and white mech shrugged. “Works for me. He’s real colorful alright, but he looks too sharp for an Autobot. And Autobots’s don’t have red optics, either.” he sounded bemused.

Knock Out, by this point, had enough if being ignored. His hand transformed into his saw, and the blade whirled to life. “I think,” he snarled. “You will find that I am not quite so willing to go along with you, Starscream. I’ll be found by my own eventually, so I suggest you and your little friends frag off and leave me be.” he hissed.

There was the sound of smaller transformations, and all three mechs were pointing weapons at him. “Weapon away, doctor.” Starscream said, sickeningly sweet. “You are outnumbered, and if you offline one of us the other two will have you subdued easily enough.”

Knock Out snarled furiously, his engine all but roaring with his rage, but he knew the Seeker was right. He did as he was told, and the two mechs behind him stepped up, one on either side, to grip his arms and force them behind his back. He glared at the Seeker, gaze promising pain.

Starscream only stepped closer, reaching out to tap the medic’s chin with a finger. “I think, Knock Out,” He said with a dark grin. “That you will find Lord Megatron reluctant to simply allow you to be stolen away now that we have you. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he orders Soundwave and perhaps even Shockwave to develop a way to ensure you cannot be tracked and retrieved by your friends.” He leaned in close, lips twisting in a mocking sneer. “You belong to us now, little medic.”

Knock Out was tense, his processor racing. This was bad. If that was true, then he doubted he’d be able to ever return home. Unless he could get away now, that is. But he likely wouldn’t be able to. He was the smallest mech here. All three of the duller Decepticons were taller and bulkier than he was. He wouldn’t be able to fight all of them. The medic growled, low and angry, and leaned forward against the hold the other two had on him. It caused their claws to dig into and scratch the paint of his arms, but for once he didn’t care. He got as close to Starscream’s face as he could, eyes holding dark promise.

“You had better pray to Primus that you never end up on my medical berth, Starscream.” He said, voice low. “Because while I may fix you, I will also ensure that your stay in my medical bay makes the Unmaker’s Pits seem like the Well of All Sparks.”

There was a rough laugh behind him, and then he was being yanked away from the still Seeker. “Come on, Doc. Time to get moving.” The silver mech grinned.

He was guided firmly through the forest, until they came to an empty road. He obeyed the cold order to transform from the black and white mech, and then they two larger bots followed suit and boxed him in. Making sure to keep the red medic trapped between them, they drove back towards the Decepticon base, the newest acquisition of the Deceptions firmly in tow.

Back at the clearing where Knock Out had appeared, Starscream remained frozen for a moment longer. Suddenly, he felt like he might have made his decision just a little too hastily, and he remembered the creative threats and curses the smaller bit had spat out. If Knock Out was actually capable of even half the things he had threatened in that little spiel, and Starscream got the unpleasant feeling he was, then he very, very much did in fact hope he never had to go to the medic for repairs. Though, given his luck as of late…he had a feeling he’d be seeing the doctor sooner than he thought.

Frag.

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Last Christmas (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: mentions of past bad relationships, oral (f receiving), fairly vanilla sex

(A/N): I am aware this is a common title 🙄 I’m very insecure about my angst writing skills and my golly gosh I was not happy with this at first. So I edited it several times and now it’s... acceptable. Hope y’all enjoy! (Inspired by me listening the Last Christmas by Wham! 20,000 times)

“Crowded room, friends with tired eyes/

I’m hiding from you and your soul of ice”

-Last Christmas by Wham!

Holiday parties can be one of two things. They could either be the most exciting, eventful get together of the year, filled with laughter and happenings that will be talked about all the way until the next party. Or they can be a dreadfully stressful evening of avoiding that One Person and stuffing your face full of cookies and eggnog— trying to figure out when’s an appropriate time to leave without being rude because you only really came to show your face for the person that invited you. Last year’s party was the happier option for Jimin, one he’ll never forget; but unfortunately, this year has become the latter situation where his choices from the previous party have come to bite him in the ass.

He stands somewhere in the corner, out of sight and avoiding the crowd as everyone mingles merrily over the festive music playing in the background. All night has been like this, terribly boring as he watches his friends joke around and have fun. A few times he’s gone over to the group when he felt it was safe to do so, trying to appear as normal and relaxed as possible as Seokjin scolded him for being a wallflower. He didn’t even want to come, he reminds them, he would have been happy to stay home and mope all night instead of being subjected to this torture.

‘But you have to come, this party is tradition!” Hoseok whined when Jimin first told them this 2 weeks ago. The others had similar complaints.

‘Yeah, it’ll ruin the whole night if you don’t show.’ Jungkook’s pout was pretty convincing, part of the reason why Jimin caved. When he finally agreed, Taehyung had thrown an arm over his shoulders with that carefree grin of his.

‘Don’t let her keep you from having fun! Show up and show off how good of a time you’re having. She doesn’t control your life and you need to start acting like it.’

But Taehyung was completely wrong about that because you had an unimaginable amount of control over him even after so much time. His eyes were wide and paranoid from the moment he walked through the doors, hoping that you wouldn’t see him or try to approach— hoping that he wouldn’t see you and fall apart. And even after initially locating you on the other side of the room chatting to someone else, Jimin couldn’t freely move about the room without keeping his eyes on you to maintain a safe distance. He wouldn’t allow himself to become too distracted in fear of losing sight of you and having an awkward encounter, so he barely spoke to his friends and kept a solo cup of punch as his only companion. Even if he hadn’t come, if he had stayed in his home like he wanted, you would probably still have power over him. He’d probably catch himself wondering if you decided to show up or if you were just as nervous to see him as he was. Would likely daydream about what creative outfit you’d chosen to dress yourself in because he’s been told you usually go all out for parties like these. Maybe he’d scroll through the messages he still hasn’t deleted from his phone, remembering, regretting, reliving both the good and the bad of everything that happened between you two in the course of the past year. Thinking about the events that led him to this, all starting at last year’s party.

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

One Year Ago

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

“Who is she?” Jimin stares at you over the lip of his cup, sipping slowly on his drink. Seokjin glances at where his friend is looking, lounging drunkenly on the sofa cushions and loudly singing the wrong words to the Christmas music blasting through the speakers.

“Why? You have a crush on her or something?” He smirks, chuckling at the scandalized expression that Jimin turns to him with.

“A crush? I’m not in the 5th grade, hyung,” He rolls his eyes. “I’m just asking because I’ve never seen her around before...” Jimin finishes quietly, mumbling into his cup as he takes another sip. But before he can swallow fully, Jin is calling you over with a wave of his hand.

You turn your head at the sound of his voice and Jimin swears his heart stops beating in his chest as a bright smile spreads on your lips at the sight of your friend. You walk over with confidence and he has no choice but to take in your body, curves and lines caressed by the tightest onesie he’s ever seen. You’ve come to the party dressed as Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer, your deer onesie zipped low enough for the tops of your cleavage to be revealed and your makeup colored flawlessly to match, freckles spotted along your cheeks and red painted at the tip of your nose. It shouldn’t be sexy, but you could probably make a trash bag look like lingerie with your looks. Jimin shifts in his seat when you come to stand in front of the two men, popping your hip as you look down at them.

“Yes, Seokjin?” You only spare a glance at Jimin before your eyes return to Jin, but his linger on you shamelessly.

“There’s someone who wants to meet you,” He sits up into a proper sitting position, pointing to the man beside him. “(Y/n), this is Park Jimin. Jimin, this is (Y/n). You’re welcome.” Abruptly, he stands and walks away, heading over to bother Jungkook in another part of the large room.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.” You extend your hand toward him and he fumbles with his cup between his hands at the gesture, eventually composing himself to stand and give you a proper handshake. Since he was seated on the couch and you had come to stand directly in front of him, you now stand a bit too close to each other, his body trapped between yours and the couch. But you don’t retreat, not even moving back a step as you inspect him from head to toe.

The two of you spent more than 2 whole hours talking, relentlessly flirting with each other as you discovered that you shared many things in common. You laughed at his jokes and gave him your full attention the entire night, your hand always finding it’s way onto his arm or knee as you pressed closer to him on the couch cushions as the night went on. It was obvious that you were very attracted to him, but Jimin didn’t want to be too forward and make you uncomfortable so he kept his hands to himself until you finally cracked and pulled his hand onto your upper thigh.

Looking into your eyes, he could clearly see the lust swirling in your irises, so it wasn’t a surprise when you pulled him upstairs into a bathroom, locking the door behind you and kissing him up against it. Nor was it surprising when you allowed him to lift you onto the countertop of the sink and bury his face between your thighs, tasting you until you had to clap a hand over your mouth to suppress your moans. What did surprise Jimin, however, was how amazing it felt to be inside you, his knees feeling weak as he pounded you into the hard surface and bit back the needy groans bubbling in his throat. You almost killed him when you dropped to your knees and took his tip into your mouth, sucking and swallowing every drop of his release as he gasped in elation. It took him several minutes to collect himself after the ordeal, but you sat on the counter and talked to him as you both calmed down and quickly agreed that this should become a regular thing.

It was about 5 months in that Jimin realized that he had serious feelings for you. The realization came when he couldn’t stop thinking about you— even in a non-sexual context— and started thinking about what it would be like if you were his. And when he finally gathered the courage to ask you out on a date, his heart nearly exploded when you said ‘yes’.

Yet his joy was short lived because his phone rang on the day of your date and you explained to him that you had been “thinking about some things” after a conversation with Jin. You had been talking about the newest episode of a tv show with him when he mentioned how awkward it would be if 2 of his friends ever started dating. He said he would hate to be a middle man between them, especially in an argument or breakup, and how hanging out with them would never be the same, how it would be weird to spend time with them separately but that he would be a third wheel if they were together. Of course, Jin didn’t know that you and Jimin were sleeping together, even if he was the one who introduced you, but his comment got you thinking and now you weren’t sure if you wanted to go out with him anymore. You told him that you needed time to think about it more deeply, but you are a logical person who never makes decisions without analyzing every outcome, so Jimin knew that it would be a long time before he got an answer from you. In the meantime, you suggested, you could continue to be friends because you had grown so used to his company, but things were awkward, and eventually communication dropped between you and you fell out of touch for the rest of the year.

A few times Jimin had wanted to text you. Ask if you still thought about him or if you ever intended to give him an answer. Maybe just check to see if you were doing well since he does still care about you. He still thinks about you almost everyday. Still wets his pillow with tears on hard nights. But his pride keeps him from reaching out, always afraid of your rejection.

*** *** ***

A sharp tap on the shoulder startles Jimin out of his thoughts and he almost drops the plate of cookies in his hands. Turning, his face pales as he is met with your inquisitive stare, beautiful face betraying little emotion. Before he can stop himself his eyes are scanning down your body, the ugly Christmas sweater dress you’ve elected to wear looking so cute on you, and he’s certain you’re the only person who could pull that off.

“Are you avoiding me? I haven’t seen you all night.” Blunt as ever, you stare directly into his soul as he squirms, looking down at the snack table in front of him and pretending to contemplate which goodies to pick up.

“No, I’ve been around.” He answers coyly.

“Not around your friends.” Your eyes shift behind him to the cackling group of men standing several feet away. This simple statement makes his heart jump. Had you been looking for him? Were you actually eager to see him tonight despite everything that’s happened? He tries to squash the tiny bud of hope in his chest, clearing his throat when you continue to stare at him.

“Like I said, I’ve been around. I’m not avoiding you.” This comes out quietly, he’s never been good at lying. But you make a sound of agreement and nod, not pressing him about it further. He watches from the corner of his eye as you turn your attention to the snack table now, looking as though you were going to pick something up, but when you realize that neither of you are moving and waiting for the other, you turn your head to him again.

“Do you- can we talk?” You ask abruptly and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He doesn’t know how to respond to this. Would it really be a good idea for him to talk to you? He’s tried so hard over these past months to extinguish the flame he felt for you, to lock away those feelings so he doesn’t get hurt anymore than he already has, but looking at you now— standing so close to him that he can smell the scent of your holiday themed body spray— has his heart working double time. One look into your eyes and he’s ready to melt into a puddle on the floor. He’s not sure how he’ll react if you actually got him alone.

Even still, he agrees.

Of course it’s after several seconds of silence and wide-eyed staring, but the smile you give eases his awkwardness once he finally gets the words out. It’s with lead limbs that he follows you through the crowd, weaving through friends and acquaintances until the noise of the room becomes muffled and you are the only person he can see. This is different, though. Flashes of last year keep coming back to him, the parallels making his head spin, but the air is different. Instead of sexual tension between you two it’s just regular tension. The air is tight in his lungs, but this time it’s not from excitement— it’s nervousness. The hallway you guide him to is private and out of sight, but this time you’re alone for an entirely different reason. He can sense the tension in your body even through the zip-tight facade you have on display.

When you come to a stop and face him, both of you are biting your lips, and it looks as if you’re trying to find the best way to put your words. You both stand with your backs to the opposite walls of the hall, the distance between you feeling necessary in order to think properly.

“How have you been?” You start quietly, lips pressed tightly together as though forcing yourself not to say the wrong things. “I’ve wanted to call you, text you, do anything to show that I still acknowledge your existence on this planet- but I’m a coward so I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So how are you?”

Again, Jimin finds himself not knowing how to answer. He could say he’s fine, but what good would that do in this situation? Taking a deep breath, he speaks.

“Honestly, it’s been hard, (Y/n). I know we never dated, I’m just the idiot that caught feelings in a strictly sexual arrangement, but it still hurts. You left me hanging.”

“You’re not an idiot.” You say quietly and he gives you a blank look before returning his gaze to the floor.

“... How have you been?” The words sound forced even on his own ears, but he can’t help but ask. He relates so deeply to what you said about not having the guts to reach out first. So many times he’s pulled up your contact, typed something out that resembles accepting the apology you never gave, but then he’d remind himself that if you wanted to talk to him you would, but you haven’t so you don’t.

“Miserable. I keep thinking about how it was when we were ‘together’ and how stupidly I acted. We were good together. I opened up to you more than I have to 99% of the people I know, and you did the same to me. I loved being with you— it wasn’t just about the sex— and I knew you felt the same way, but I froze up at the possibility of being your girlfriend. So I kept replaying everything that happened between us from the first day to the last, trying to make sense of it all and it was exhausting. A year feels like so long, but at the same time it feels like no time has passed at all.”

You were right about that. Standing in front of you now, it seems like he just saw you yesterday. He’s reminded of the last time he saw you in person, your head on his lap as he asked you out to dinner, beaming up at him as you spoke the magic words to him. “I did feel the same way. Truthfully, I liked you after our first night together and things just got better and better from there. I had so much hope. You seemed so happy with me, which made it hurt so much worse when you turned me down.” His eyes never leave the ground as he speaks.

He doesn’t see how your eyebrows crease. “I was happy! I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time when I was with you, but-“ You trail off with a shake of your head, biting your lip when you can’t think of the right words. “Jimin, I’m so sorry I hurt you. It really is all my fault.”

“But what? Would dating me really make that much of a difference?” You were basically a couple already, he doesn’t see what the problem could have been. He refuses to believe that you simply didn’t like him enough. Yet, a cold chill climbs up his limbs at the thought.

“No.” His eyes connect with yours and it’s your turn to look away.

“Then why did-“ He doesn’t even need to finish his question before you’re shaking your head.

“Because I was scared. Like I said, I’m a coward.” Jimin hates when you put yourself down like that. Hates to see you look so guilty even though he knows you probably should.

There’s a long pause.

“Then were you ever going to give me an answer?” Quietly, the words slip past his lips before he can even think about them. They float over to you and dance around your head as if taunting you. If Jin was truly the obstacle of your relationship, you both could have just asked him. No, Jimin isn’t asking you if you were willing to risk Jin’s comfort to be with him. He was asking you if you shared his feelings. If you wanted to be with him. And the answer isn’t as straightforward as he would have liked.

“I typed out an answer to you so many times, but I couldn’t send it. I’m sorry I waited so long to talk to you, but the more I looked at my words the more uncertain I got and eventually I felt like you wouldn’t want to hear from me at all. I really am sorry, Jimin.”

Finding his eyes again, you see Jimin stiffen. He looks tired almost, as if exhausted by his own worries and thoughts, and you sag when you notice this.

“What would you have said?” His words come louder than his previous ones, though they seem much more fragile. He blinks at you, watching your chest heave for breath at the question. Dread fills his stomach like a heavy stone in his gut.

“I like you a lot, Jimin, I do. But-“

Without a second thought, he spins on his heel and walks back toward the party, leaving you stunned with a gaping mouth. His heart twists painfully as he paces away from you, weaving his way through the crowd and toward the door. It’s one thing to worry and think the worst, but Jimin has been clinging onto that one shred of hope, and hearing you confirm his fears out loud would be the worst heartbreak. Your rejection would sicken him and he had no intention of crying in front of you or at a holiday party filled with his friends, so he made the split decision to leave.

He should have never come. He would’ve happily stayed in blissful ignorance for another year instead of having to experience this. This pain is the worst.

He can tell you’ve started to follow behind him but he doesn’t care. Swooping past the pile of coats on one of the couches and picking his from the top, slinging it across his body as he pushes open the door. The cold winter air bites at his nose as he pushes on toward his car, sniffling from both the weather and the emotions stuck in his throat. Soon, he hears your footsteps behind him, heeled boots clicking on the frozen pavement as you scurry after him. He doesn’t even look back.

“Jimin, wait-“ How childish of him to run off like this, you must be thinking, and he listens to your hurried steps with a frown as he imagines the pout on your lips and distress in your eyes. “I- Ah!”

Your dramatic gasp and the sound of your body hitting the concrete is enough to stop him. And his body reacts on instinct.

Whipping around he sees you wincing on the cold ground, cradling your ankle with one hand, and suddenly he’s rushing back over to you. You move to stand, attempting a tentative step forward, and Jimin reaches you just in time as you collapse again and fall forward into his arms.

“Jimin, that’s not what I meant-“

“Did you hurt your ankle?” He cuts you off, focused solely on the foot you hold limply above the ground.

“I-“ Noticing that he won’t meet your eyes, you relent, cheeks burning. “Y-Yeah.” The sidewalk is cracked and uneven where you stand, your heels likely stepping right into the crack and causing your twisted ankle. He clicks his tongue.

Any logical person might have taken you back into the party where the host, your friend, would surely be able to help. But instead he scoops you up into his arms princess style and continues down the path toward his car. You say nothing, simply looking at his side profile as he walks. Jimin refuses to look at you even with his arms wrapped around your body, feeling a distinct warmth not only from your body pressed to his, but also from your unyielding gaze. It’s almost as if you are studying every inch of his face, awed by the sight as though you missed it. As if you missed him. His face heats uncomfortably but he ignores it, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead until you reach his vehicle.

Opening the back door, he sets you inside, well aware of your momentary surprise when he slides in next to you and shuts the door. Holding out his hand, he waits for you to get the message, and slowly you raise your leg up until your ankle rests in his lap. The silence is tense. The enclosed space is only slightly warmer than the whipping wind and bitter cold outside, but currently neither of you are sure which you would prefer more. He removes your boot with some difficulty but takes care not to hurt you, reaching down to slip off the other and note the difference in size. Your ankle has begun swelling a bit, though the damage is minimal likely because of the cold. Your mouth opens with unspoken words, he can see this from his peripheral, but you end up closing it again without a sound.

The leather of his seats crinkle when you shift and the noise feels far too loud. His car smells of the air freshener he’s placed somewhere, a woody and spicy scent that reminds you of cuddles by a warm fireplace— the smell calming you somewhat as you allow him to continue his examination. As gently as he can, Jimin pokes at your ankle around the swollen area, pressing one finger over a spot that makes you hiss, and finally his eyes snap up to yours.

“What are you doing?” His eyes flicker away from you again at the question.

“I’m checking your ankle, it seems a little swollen-“

“No- what are you doing? Why did you walk away from me? Why did you bring me to your car?”

If he had an answer for you, surely he would give it, but he’s trying to figure all of those things out himself. What was his goal? Did he subconsciously want to talk to you somewhere away from the party, in a place where he was comfortable, that he could control? He thought he didn’t want to hear what you had to say, but here you are, alone with him again.

“I don’t know.” He answers lamely. “Did you walk here? I know you don’t live far— I can give you a ride home if you want.”

“I don’t want a ride home, I want you to listen to me!” At the raise of your voice everything stops. It even seems like the wind outside has paused. You weren’t angry, you were tired of him ignoring you when he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yourself. You bring your voice back down when he drops his hands. “Could you listen to me? Please.”

“... Okay.” Like a child, he sits stiffly with his hands folded and fidgeting, body half turned toward you, but you take that as sign enough to start.

“You asked me what I would have said to you in my message. You didn’t let me finish.” He swallows at your irritated tone, but it softens when you take a deep breath. “I was saying that I really do like you Jimin, but I just didn’t realize how much I liked you until I had already ruined things. I would have said that I’d love to date you, that hearing you ask me out was the happiest moment I’ve had in a long time— but I kept doubting myself. I’m so afraid that I’ll disappoint you. That we’ll start dating and just when I’m finally happy you’ll realize I’m not everything you thought I was and leave me. I’ve had some really bad relationships in the past and I felt like they’d come back to haunt me and you’d realize how damaged I am and get fed up because I’m not sensitive enough or too paranoid or too... broken.”

“(Y/n),” Seeing you so insecure like this hurts his heart. His hand returns to your leg. “I already know about your past relationships and trauma. You told me about it all and I still asked you out after I knew. I would never think that way about you.”

“I know you wouldn’t, that’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. That’s why it’s called an irrational fear. Even though I knew this, I still panicked when you asked me out and all of those thoughts came flooding in. And when Jin made the comment about his friends dating... I guess I was looking for an out. You did absolutely nothing wrong, but I pushed you away because I couldn’t handle the thought that you would want me, of all people.” You mumble your last sentence, but he hears you loud and clear. “I’m sorry, I do some pretty stupid things when I’m in love.”

When you’re in love? 

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a long while, shocked into silence by your last statement. It’s a lot to take in, he’s just gone from believing you were about to rip his heart out and reject him, to hearing you say that you’re in love with him.

“So... what does this mean for us?” He hears himself ask, not conscious of his mouth moving to produce the words.

“I-If the offer still stands, I’d really like to date you. That is, if I didn’t already screw everything up and you still have feelings for me.” Your eyes looks so innocent when you look at him. You are usually fairly stoic, eyes betraying little emotion except for when you’re extremely happy or flirting— this is one of the few times he’s gotten to see this side of you. Being vulnerable is something you struggle with, it’s rare for you to be in this type of position where someone else holds your fate, your heart, in their hands.

He can’t hold back the small smile that makes its way onto his face, meeting your eyes without any apprehension this time. “You didn’t screw anything up, (Y/n).” He doesn’t say anything more after you return his smile, he simply exits the car and rounds the front to the drivers seat. The air shifts and it’s no longer as suffocatingly tense as it was moments prior, much to your relief.

The ride to his home is quiet, you don’t dare speak or look out the window for the entirety of the trip because you’re so focused on the back of his seat and the glimpse of his face you can catch whenever he shifts. He’s fairly certain you’re trying to figure out what exactly is running through his mind right now— and so is he, honestly— but you won’t ask him yet. He hasn’t really given you a proper response, you can only hope that his comment meant that he holds no ill feelings toward you and would also like the chance to date you, but you hate assuming. Your pride has your questions caught in your throat, though.

You seem a bit startled when he parks in front of his building. He answers your curious gaze with the excuse that he can better take care of your injury here and insists that you stay the night since it’s already so late. Cheeks burning, Jimin tries to ignore the small chuckle you let out when he stammers, his arm wrapping around you to help you out of his car. He takes revenge on you, however, as he lifts you back into his arms like before, not even allowing you to place your feet on the ground as he walks into the apartment complex despite your complaints, smirking slyly when your face colors the same as his at the odd looks you receive from the other passengers of the elevator.

He puts you down only when you reach the couch inside his apartment, setting you gently on the soft cushions and offering to take your coat from your shoulders. He hadn’t even asked if you had all of your belongings from Jin’s house before he impulsively drove you here, something that he apologizes profusely for, though you wave him off and assure him that you only brought your coat and the things you could fit in its pockets with you.

Not knowing what else to say, Jimin stands in front of you for several long seconds as you look up at him with soft eyes. He’s caught now, forgetting everything that he was doing as he looks back at you sitting so prettily on his couch. That look you have in your eyes is the same one that gave him enough courage to ask you out months ago, your irises nearly sparkling even in the dull lighting of his living room. It takes his breath away and he is momentarily stunned, frozen in place with a heart that beats out of his chest. What was he even supposed to be doing? Your coat is in his hands and he fiddles with it, trying to remember where he wanted to put it before you blindsided him with those beautiful eyes. Ah, yes. The coat closet. Blinking, you take note of how he shifts from one foot, then the other, before clearing his throat.

“I’ll be right back.” Jimin turns from you immediately as he feels his cheeks start to color pink. It feels heavy, having all of those wilting and withering emotions come slamming back down on him with just one look. He’s dazed as he hangs both of your coats in his closet, picking up compression bandages and scissors from his first aid kit then swinging past his kitchen to retrieve an ice pack for you.

When he returns he sees you still seated rather uncomfortably on his sofa, body tense and on the very edge of the seat. You were never this awkward in his home before, even during your first time here— granted, you did spend the first few hours naked in his bedroom, eliminating most of the discomfort you’d feel when he decided to give you a tour of the rest of the place afterward. But Jimin somewhat expected that you would settle right in even though things have changed since the last time you were here. Guess not.

“You can get comfortable, you know. You don’t have to act like a stranger.” He tries to laugh but it comes out a bit dry, the pull on his lips looking a bit forced. And it hits him then that he’s the one that’s nervous. While you seem to be trying your hardest to be polite, he’s actually the one that feels pressured. Swallowing hard, he takes a seat next to you and lifts your injured foot onto his lap again, this time feeling hyper aware of where your body touches his. His hands shake the entire time he wraps your ankle and he’s sure you’ve noticed by how intensely you stare as he works. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but he can’t seem to calm himself. Not when you’re so close to him again and especially not now that he knows how you truly feel about him. So, reluctantly, he removes your legs from him once he’s finished and sets up some pillows over the armrest for you to elevate your foot and places the ice pack on your ankle. “So, um, do you wanna watch a movie or something?”

*** *** ***

One thing Jimin has always found endearing about you is how quickly you tend to fall asleep once relaxed enough. The movie is little over halfway through when he sees your head nodding beside him, catching him by surprise when you lean over to rest it on his shoulder. He shifted you to lay against his strong thigh so you can get more comfortable, and now he’s completely forgotten about the movie as he watches you sleep peacefully against him. Staring down at you like this has all of his worries slipping away, your words from earlier finally sinking in and allowing him to finally react. This was all he ever wanted, you to give him a chance and reciprocate his feelings, and now that it’s happening it doesn’t quite feel real. But you are very real. He confirms this by caressing his thumb over your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your forehead that makes your eyes flutter open.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispers sheepishly, but you simply shake your head.

“No, it’s okay.” You stretch but don’t bother to move away from him. You’re far too tired for awkwardness and would much rather return to normalcy with him.

“How’s your ankle?” He asks gently, glancing at where it remains propped up at the end of the couch.

“Mm, a little sore,” He frowns at that, feeling guilty. “But it’s not that bad! I’m fine, really.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

“No it isn’t, it’s my fault for not looking where I was going.”

“But you wouldn’t have needed to watch where you were going if I didn’t storm away from you like that.”

You let out a heavy sigh at this. “Just drop it, okay? It’s really not that big of a deal, I’ll be back to normal in a few days.” You turn your head toward the tv to take in what was happening on the screen, allowing the noise of the movie to fill the quiet that falls between you two.

“I won’t do that again.” Jimin states quietly, playing with the hair at the very top of your head. “In the future, I won’t walk away from you until we work things out like adults. You didn’t deserve that tonight.” Something about how he says this makes your heart stutter. You turn back around slowly, lips parted as you look up at him.

“In the future? As in, you want to have a future with me?” Realizing how that sounds, you quickly try to backtrack as you sit upright with a wave of your hands. “I mean in the near future, not like you want a future with me like we’re getting married or something! You know what I meant, right? I wasn’t implying that... y-yeah.“ At the amused look on his face, you stop, closing your mouth before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. You’re never like this around him. You never used to fumble for words or feel the need to explain yourself like you do now, but suddenly the pounding of your heart has you tongue tied and jittery. Your nervousness makes Jimin feel a little bolder.

“Yes, (Y/n). In both the near and far future, I’ll always treat you with respect. You’ve had it hard. I want to be the one to show you that relationships can be good— that you can trust me to respect you as a person and can put your faith in me. So yes, I want there to be a future.” You blink at him and he has to laugh at the dumbfounded look on your face.

“...Does this mean you’ll give me a chance and date me?” He nods. “You’re not upset? I left you waiting unanswered for months, I would’ve thought you would at least need some time to... reconsider?”

“What’s there to reconsider? My feelings for you are just as strong as the last time I saw you, (Y/n), that hasn’t changed.” Your eyes drop to where his hand lands on your thigh, making you gulp. “We wasted enough time not being together this year, what’s the point in wasting another second? Sure, I was hurt before tonight, but hearing you explain everything so openly to me made me happier than you can imagine. I want you to go out with me. I want you to see how much I care about you and know how far I’ll go to make you happy, and fall for me just like I’ve fallen for you.”

He seems resolute when he says this, serious but sweet all the same, and now it’s your turn to be shocked and dazed by how honest he’s being at the moment. This must have been how he felt earlier, unable to say the right words or relax his body even after your reassurance. You want to tell him that what he said is pretty silly. Silly because you already fell for him without even realizing it and there’s little else he needs to do to prove himself in your eyes. Unable to vocalize all of this, you simply move closer to him until you’re face to face. His hands come to softly rest on your waist out of habit, stabilizing you as you slowly rise on your knees and lean into his lips, kissing them innocently to convey what you feel.

As soon as your lips find his, chills shoot throughout his body. God, he’s missed your lips. Missed the way you smile into the kiss when he presses deeper and pulls you closer with his insistent hands. You tell him everything he needs to know with every movement you make, your hands snaking up from his chest to his neck where they twine loosely in the hair at the back of his head. His breath hitches when you throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs until it bunches around your hips. You pull away from his mouth, panting and grinning in his lap.

“Okay.” You nod, accepting him.

“Okay?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile.

“Yes. I want that, too.” He allows you to press into him again, his back molding into the cushions of the seat as you rest your weight on him fully.

“Good.” You can see he’s trying not to look overly excited by this because he’s biting his lips hard to contain his smile, but his eyes betray his happiness to you. When he sees you smiling at him, he buries his face in your neck, leaving playful butterfly kisses that flutter ticklishly against the skin of your neck, chest, and shoulders causing you to giggle.

“Jimin stop, that tickles!” You squeal, halfheartedly squirming to get away, but he has his hands tight on your hips to keep you in place. Giggling at your playfulness, he lets his lips linger just a little longer with each peck, stealing licks and nibbles every so often until he trails his way back up to your lips. His fingers slide down to press into the smooth skin of your exposed thighs, wanting but not pushy even as the kisses become hungrier.

You didn’t intend on your make out session turning into anything more, but the atmosphere quickly shifts in that direction as soon as your hips start to roll against his. As soon as your crotch meets his, Jimin bucks into you slightly and you let out a mewl into his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He feels your body start to heat when he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring you in sync with the rolls of you hips. Just having you close to him again has his body reacting and he’s sure you can feel him hardening in his slacks, light hisses leaving him whenever you catch his tip against your thigh or pull at his roots, tugging his head back to you every time he tries to pull away to gasp. A wet patch seeps into his briefs beneath your expert hips, ruining his slacks from the inside while you ruin them from the outside with the wetness you drip from your panties.

Jimin’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your dress, breaking from you shortly to silently ask your permission, and once you nod he delicately removes the clothing item before tossing it to the other side of the sofa. Taking it further, he pulls down the cups of your bra to expose your breasts to him, gently rubbing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

“So pretty,” He whispers, bending down to take one into his mouth, sucking the bud as you hump against him faster. Your fingers, still wound in his hair, keep him steady at your chest, tiny whimpers leaving your lips at each flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth against your pert nipple. He works around your tits just how you like it, having learned exactly what makes you mewl from the many times he’s found himself in your bed. Your chest is glossy by the time you peel him away, the pressure in your core no longer satisfied by your grinding, and he gives you a questioning look when you move to stand in front of him with your hands on the button of his slacks. Completely forgetting about your ankle, your leg gives as soon as you put pressure on the bad foot and Jimin catches you swiftly, flipping you so that you now lay against the cushions with him kneeling in front of you. “Be careful,” He scolds lightly, trailing kisses up your thighs.

“You don’t want me to give you the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’?” He snorts at your puppy eyes, pulling down your panties with a shake of his head.

“Not today,” The pecks he leaves up your inner thighs have goosebumps prickling your skin.

“But you love the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’!” Your pout becomes more prominent when he spreads your legs further apart, anticipation building exponentially in your gut.

“Please stop calling it that,” Jimin laughs, eyes squinting cutely at you. “Tonight I wanna  show you how much I missed you. Just relax, baby, let me take care of you.” He doesn’t give you time for a rebuttal, diving down to lick up the arousal that dribbles down your folds, following the trail up with his tongue until he reaches your clit with a flick. You moan immediately and he’s almost surprised by your sensitivity, concealing a small smirk by dipping down to do it again.

His fingers part your lower lips, allowing him to press his tongue more firmly on your bud, and it’s all you can do not to shriek at the bolts of pleasure it sends up your spine. It’s like he’s injected lava into your veins, heat spreading all throughout your body and pooling in your core with every eager swipe of his tongue against your bud, setting your nerves alight. Jimin has always shown enthusiasm for oral— you remember one night in particular where he pinned you down and wouldn’t let up until you were begging and crying for him to stop as your 5th orgasm of the night washed over you— but this is something different entirely. His movements are slow and deliberate, sensual patterns drawn against your most intimate areas to build you up slowly but steadily, focused solely on your throbbing clit that practically begs for his attention. He has his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every emotion that flickers across your features and noting what brings you the most pleasure, although he already knows from experience.

“Mmh,” He growls into you as you continue to drip for him. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, your essence coating his cheeks and chin messily. It smears against his lips when you start to rock into him, moaning lewdly in tandem with your movements and holding onto the back of his head for leverage. He really doesn’t mind how you hold his face so tightly to your center. The heat from your core and thighs give his cheeks a delightful flush but he doesn’t pull away for a second, instead using his lips to suck on your pearl until your legs quiver around him. One of his hands drops down to palm at the ever increasing tent in his pants, his dick already at full hardness and twitching impatiently for the chance to be inside you. Just thinking about being inside your wet heat again makes his eyes roll— fuck, he needs to calm down before he cums in his pants. But he can’t help but shift his hips in search of friction when two of his fingers enter you with no resistance, slipping in to the knuckle because of the copious amounts of fluids you leak. It’s easy to find your spot, and when he does your back arches from the chair.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m close.” You gasp out, tossing your head back as you rub yourself against his face more forcefully.

“Already?” He mumbles against you, the words muffled because he refuses to pull away, but the vibrations of his voice go straight through you. All you can offer is a needy whine to him but it’s more than enough for him to double his efforts. He pushes at your thigh to open you again, then flattens his wet muscle over your clit, using his whole mouth to please you with broad licks that make your toes curl. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he strokes at your spot, pulsing synchronously with the bud against his tongue, and he catches the most beautiful look take over your face as he brings you to climax.

Your skin flushes as the high overtakes you, mouth parted to let out the cutest moans and curses mixed with his name, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows scrunched together as wave after wave crashes down on you. His name has never sounded better to him as it falls from your pretty lips on repeat, drowning out the squelch of your wetness as he fingers you through your bliss. Feeling you pulsate around him is a feeling he’ll never get tired of, but he’d much rather feel you throb around his cock instead of his fingers, his hips bucking up into the air in anticipation.

“So fucking sexy,” Jimin groans, obsessed with the way your hips squirm when it becomes too much. His wet lips press kisses down your trembling leg as you catch your breath, ending with your tender ankle that he babies apologetically.

“Holy shit.” You finally find it within yourself to whisper, melting into the couch beneath you.

“You okay? I’ve never seen you cum that hard before.” He isn’t teasing when he says this, but your cheeks heat up regardless, averting your eyes away from his gentle gaze.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since you, so I’m a little hypersensitive now.” It’s been months since anyone has touched you. Truthfully, it wasn’t only because you felt bad because of your silence toward Jimin, but that certainly played a part in it. Even still, you don’t like how his face morphs into shock as if there’s a horn growing out of your forehead. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Oh, no it’s just- I haven’t been with anyone else either...” He didn’t like to think about it, but he assumed that you were getting your needs fulfilled by someone else after you had stopped talking to him. Knowing you hadn’t been with anyone else makes an odd relief come over him. Now he’s blushing too and you still can’t look at him, but he climbs up your body to kiss you anyway, easing your momentary shyness. The kiss reignites your desire and suddenly he feels your hands tugging at his zipper, working to free his member from his confinement. He takes this time to remove his own shirt, unclipping your bra and tossing it into the pile of clothes that now sits at the end of his couch as you yank down his slacks and briefs in one go.

His length springs free before you, the sight pulling a whimper from your lips. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, thick and long and smooth in all the right places, and it never fails to make you gush every time you see it. You can practically feel it inside you already and you can’t wait another minute, wrapping your warm fingers around the base and stroking drips of precum from the tip. Jimin groans with a bite of his lip, removing your hands from him and leaning away.

“Turn over for me.” He instructs, gripping himself as he watches you spin onto your knees with your arms draped over the back of the couch. You look back at him with flirtatious eyes, wiggling your ass at him to entice him into action. A smack lands on one of your cheeks, the flesh jiggling from its force and you hear a sharp inhale behind you. “Comfortable?”

Always the gentleman, he always checks to make sure you’re okay. But you’re far beyond that point, seconds away from grabbing him and pushing him into you yourself.

“Yes, now please fuck me already, I’m going insane.” He snickers at the way you push back toward him, hole searching for his length blindly as sweat accumulates on your back.

“Anything for you, babe.” Fingers collecting your dripping essence, Jimin takes the time to spread your lubricant over himself, allowing you to hear the slick noise and his heavy breaths as you wait on quivering knees. After what feels like an eternity, you finally feel him drag his hot tip through your folds, tapping the weight against you until you’re just about ready to crack. But just as you take in a breath to scold him, he pushes in to the hilt and forces a groan from you.

The intrusion is tight. He almost goes cross-eyed at how tightly you squeeze him upon entry, and he’s awed into silence at the way your velvet repeatedly clenches and relaxes as you try to adjust. At least he thinks you’re trying to adjust, until he brings his fingers down to your clit and starts rubbing, only for the clenching to get more intense.

“Is that okay?” He asks, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back.

“It’s amazing,” You nearly sob, rocking back into him. “Please move, I can’t take it anymore.”

Before you’re even finished your sentence he’s pulling back, leaving you completely empty except for his tip before thrusting forward. You both moan at the movement and he starts a fairly quick pace, standing erect and gripping your hips securely. Just like the first time he had you, you steal his breath away. It’s addicting, the way he glides in so easily with the thick coating of arousal you cover him in, and he wonders how the hell he lasted months without you. He thrusts deep, giving you every inch and loving the curses and whimpers you let out.

“Shit baby, just like that.” You gasp, digging your nails into the top of the sofa at the pleasure. The arch in your back deepens when he hits your spot, and you involuntarily clench around him, goosebumps crawling up your skin when the tightness pulls a deep groan from him. His cock is the perfect shape, the perfect length for you, and he touches places within you that you can never reach on your own. Every snap of his hips is precise, intended to give you the utmost pleasure because Jimin simply adores seeing you fall apart for him, but there’s something else tonight. Passion. You can feel it in the way his hands roam your body freely, tracing over your curves and caressing you with a tenderness that you haven’t felt before from anyone. His thumbs massage the dimples in your back even as he rams into you, dipping down to line your shoulder blades in sloppy kisses.

“Fuck (Y/n), I missed you so much.” Jimin rasps, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck as he changes his pace to a swivel of his hips. “Missed our long talks, missed your laugh, those cute little moans— mmh— and I especially missed fucking this tight, wet pussy.”

“Yeah?” You try to sound a little cocky, but that’s ruined by the shakiness of your voice. He still has your legs shaking even with the delicate strokes he now delivers, and you have to rest your forehead on the back of the couch to catch your breath.

“I can’t tell you how much I thought about you these past few months. I drove myself crazy wondering if I’d get to see you again.” His voice drops an octave when you squeeze at his words, your walls fluttering along with your heart.

“S-sorry,”

“Stop apologizing, at least I get to have you now.” And have you he does. Whether he knows it or not, he owns your body and heart already and there’s no going back now. Nodding, you start to rock backwards against him, fucking yourself on his cock. He stops moving to let you work, biting down on your shoulder at the feeling as you spread your legs wider to get more leverage. His moans and grunts spur you on, wordless encouragement as you render him speechless with your hips. If he wouldn’t let you use your mouth on him, the least you could do is take some of the work off his hands to pay him back. If it wasn’t for your bum ankle you’d be riding him off into the sunset right now, but you settle for working hard on pleasuring him like this.

His hands aid your movements, pulling you back onto him as you feel the light layer of sweat smear on your shoulder when he rests his forehead against it. One of his hands inches toward your midsection, pressing down slightly to feel the bulge of his tip as it slips in and out of you, pulling a desperate moan from you. The pressure around his member increases from the external force and he moans alongside you, the sweet sound breathed right next to your ear and traveling straight to your core.

“I’m- I’m close again.” You hiccup, faltering in your motions.

Without a word, Jimin pulls out of you, ignoring your whine to move you onto your back swiftly. He situates himself between your open legs, smirking at how they tremble on either side of him as he lines himself up and pushes back into you. At your gasp he steals a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and savoring the taste of your moans. He drops down to his elbows but you pull him closer until all of his weight rests on top of you, even if it causes his thrusts to be less efficient. When he pulls away for air, he smiles down at you.

“Hi,”

“Hi.” You return, brushing some hair away from his eyes.

“I just wanted you to face me so I could watch you cum again.” Jimin explains cheekily, proud of the blush he pulls from your cheeks.

“Then make me cum.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Swooping down for another kiss, his hand immediately slithers between your body to reach for your clit, pressing into it with his fingers as his hips pick up speed. You’re confused at first when his hand doesn’t move, your pearl throbbing beneath him, but it’s soon forgotten when he touches your g-spot again and makes you see stars.

Your orgasm builds up with every hard stroke of his, and when your legs move up to wrap around him he hits so much deeper. A knot is forming in his own belly from looking at you, watching you struggle to keep your eyes open and on him as you tug on his scalp. The sparks of pain only add to the almost overwhelming pleasure of being inside you, and Jimin has to focus hard to avoid cumming before you. He grits his teeth as he fucks you harder, reveling in the music of your squelching wetness and the slap of your skin, keeping the rhythm steady to please you. Your hands leave his hair as the pleasure mounts. They grapple at anything around you as you start to lose control, grabbing at the cushions beneath you, scratching down his back, holding onto your own legs, until they finally settle on the firm muscles of his ass, urging him on.

Then he feels it. The steady clamp of your cunt that tells him quite clearly that you’re ready.

Shifting his fingers to swipe a glob of your arousal, Jimin begins rubbing into your clit vigorously, holding his position solidly above you when your body jolts from the sensation. You feel as if he’s rubbing a fireball into your core, heating you up until you’re panting and sweating and just about ready to combust. He’s assaulting you from all sides, battering your g-spot, attacking your clit with his nimble fingers, and sucking at your stiffened nipples; the onslaught of bliss sending you head-first into a breathtaking orgasm.

Looking up at you through lidded eyes, Jimin feels like he’s flying. You look completely enveloped in bliss, pride swelling in his chest as you call out his name and pull him closer until there’s no space between you. Feeling you cum around him is his favorite feeling, he loves the erratic spasms of your inner muscles, how the rest of your body tenses around him, the uncontrollable jump of your hips as he works you through it all with slow fingers until you try to squeeze your legs shut around his body and he takes pity on your whimpering. It feels so good you could cry, and there’s nothing he loves more than the watery eyed smile you give him when you finally peek your eyes open to stare up at him.

His heart clenches as he looks down at you, racing for a reason unrelated to the vigorous movements of his hips. Seeing you like this, with stars in your eyes and soft adoration for him, has him hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You stroke his hair and continue to clench around him, whispering dirty words to push him over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” Jimin grunts, the crease between his eyebrows growing.

“That’s it, baby,” You drawl as you suck your own love marks into his skin. “Cum for me.”

With a strained groan, Jimin pulls out of you and rubs himself against your lower abdomen, shivering when you drop down a hand to stroke him until white ribbons coat your stomach. There’s a lot of cum and it makes a mess all over you, yet you enjoy every drop, savoring the quivering moans from the man above you. When he’s finished, you release him and reach for his face, bringing him down for a searing kiss.

You don’t know how long you kiss him like that, but you do know that he breaks away all too soon, pushing himself up off the couch to gaze upon his artwork. He lets out a growl of approval, to which you laugh and throw one a pillow at him.

“Pervert.”

“What? I didn’t even say anything!” He snickers on his way out of the room, returning with a wet washcloth to clean you with. His touch is so gentle that you could fall asleep right there, but you force yourself to stay awake to bask in the moment. It’s then that you realize the tv is still on, the movie you had been watching having ended long ago. You reach for the remote and turn off the screen, watching instead as Jimin busies himself with tidying the room. He reaches for you when he deems it good enough, all of your clothes folded at the other end of the couch and his cushions clean of any bodily fluids, and this time when he lifts you into his arms you allow it.

After helping you to the bathroom and making sure you didn’t fall or walk on your injured foot, he rests you on his bed gently and tosses you one of his shirts, slipping on a new pair of boxers for himself. As soon as his warmth enters the bed with you, your entire body relaxes. Cuddling after sex hadn’t always been your thing, but it became routine a few months after seeing Jimin. He couldn’t resist and you couldn’t say no and now it comes almost automatically. He lets you wrap your arms around his midsection and rest your head on his beating heart, his own arm slung around your waist. These moments, these quiet moments where the silence is comfortable and simply feeling your skin is enough, are what he missed the most. He’s never wanted this kind of intimacy with anyone else. Never craved to hug anyone and never let go until he met you. No one has ever occupied his thoughts like this, made him slightly irrational or scared him as much as you do— he’s never been scared to lose someone before he was faced with that situation with you. Jimin is certain he’s never been in love before, therefore he has no idea what it feels like, but now he’s starting to wonder if this is it. The thought is equal parts terrifying and comforting and all he can do is hold you closer.

A chuckle from you draws his attention to the silly smirk on your face, and he just knows you’re about to say something stupid.

“So, you missed this gorilla grip pussy?” Of course you would say something like that. You’re the only person he knows who would say that to someone in seriousness— just like how you came up with that foolish name for a blowjob. But it’s one of your many charms. He stifles a laugh knowing it would only encourage you, but you catch the rise of his cheeks and laugh anyway.

“Ugh, why do I even put up with you?” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Because of this gorilla grip pussy.” You state as though it were obvious, clinging to him as he lightheartedly tries to push you off.

“God, I missed your goofy ass.” His lips find your forehead and your snuggle deeper into his chest.

“And my-“

“Please, don’t say it again.” Jimin stops you with a wrinkle of his nose, pulling the sheets higher up your bodies. “But yes, I missed that too.” Your giggles settle down after a few seconds and then the mood shifts to something a bit more serious. “(Y/n).”

“Hmm?” You hum, closing your eyes.

“Never think you aren’t good enough. Your past doesn’t define your future and just because a few people treated you poorly in the past doesn’t mean that you’re unworthy of love. You may think that what you went through makes you undesirable, but in my eyes it makes you look incredibly strong. And you’re even stronger to be able to share your experiences with me and open yourself up after all that’s happened. I want you to know that I will never fault you for the shitty things other people have done, and I will spend every day showing you just how amazing you are to me, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t open your eyes as he speaks, afraid that the tears that have been welling up will spill over if you open them. Hearing him say this means the world to you and you’re inclined to believe every word. These are the kinds of things he would say to you when you were still just fuck buddies. He always listened with empathy and took the time reassuring you that nothing you went through was your fault, yet you still doubted him when he showed interest in dating you. Looking back on it, you feel silly. How could you ever doubt such a genuine man, who has never taken advantage of you even once when you poured your heart out to him, who is so understanding and caring that you feel instantly at ease when talking to him? Jimin is everything you ever wanted, and for once your heart and brain can agree to let yourself be happy.

“Thank you, Jimin.” You sniffle, leaning into the hand that now strokes through your hair as his words replay in your mind. You don’t like getting emotional, so you try to dispel it by using humor. “If you truly mean it then get ready, I only get goofier from here.”

He giggles. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Oh it is, trust me.”

“I do.” The seriousness of his tone has you glancing up at him, suddenly overwhelmed by the affection in his eyes. You clear your throat, feeling a blush creep up your neck so you look away. “So will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the sooner the better. We could go out for breakfast.” His smile is blinding and your blush deepens. You’re not used to getting shy, but Jimin seems to bring it out of you.

“Brunch. I have a feeling we’ll be sleeping in.” Glancing at the clock, you note how late it is, well past midnight and any other reasonable bedtime. That doesn’t seem to matter, however, because you will probably spend all night laying awake from the excitement of what will come tomorrow— and the day after, and the day after that. Your months of worrying have finally come to an end and this feels like a brand new start. You have no idea what it’ll be like to date Jimin, but the promise of it all is too much to bear. The smile doesn’t leave your face for the rest of the night, not even as you fall asleep.

“Brunch it is.”

[shaynawrites23]

Secret Admirer

Word count: 2054

Prompts:

“I think I practiced asking you out a good thirty times in the mirror.” “You practiced asking me out... on yourself?”

“Were you the one to write me all these letters?”

“But you love me anyways.”

“I’ve kissed you so many times already, but I wouldn’t mind another.”

“I don’t know where I’m going quite yet, but I know I want you here with me.”

“When all my dreams come true, the one I want next to me - is you.”

Written for @yourssuccubus’s writing challenge, as well as @im-a-writer-right’s challenge and @writingevents’s September event!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, (y/n), spill! Do you already know who it is?”

You were sitting by the lake with your best friend. It was a rather secluded spot, but you weren’t hiding, as classes had finished an hour ago. Even the warm breeze playing softly with your hair seemed to urge you; ‘tell, tell, tell!’

For almost six months now, you had been receiving letters. From whom, you couldn’t say, as they were all signed, ‘forever yours, your secret admirer.’

Giving in, even though deep down, you longed to talk about it, and you pulled the most recent letter from your robe.

“No, Lily, of course I don’t know who he is.”

“Or she,” Lily interjected.

“He or she,” you repeated. “I guess I never thought of it being a girl, but I guess it’s possible.”

“So, what did they say?”

You just handed her the paper, too embarrassed to read it aloud. It was already well creased after you read it so many times since it ended up on your desk that morning.

Her eyes lingered over the words every few sentences, her face lighting up in excitement.

“Ooh!” Lily exclaimed, eyes locking with yours. “(y/n)-”

She stopped short at the sound of bushes rustling behind you, tucking the paper treasure under her robes in case someone might see.

You spun around, hoping to Merlin no one saw the letter clearly dotted with hearts. Gray eyes met yours, eyes you immediately recognized as those belonging to Sirius Black.

Oh no.

The Marauders were notorious for their pranks, and while you had been lucky enough never to have experienced them firsthand, the fear that your luck was about to run out enveloped your heart like a thick fog you couldn’t see through.

“Ladies.” A charming smirk played on his lips as he winked, a gesture that seemed to be directed more at you than at Lily. “Mind if I steal (y/n) here away for a bit?”

“Sure, but watch it, Black,” Lily warned before making her way back to the castle. Sirius gave a mock salute in response, one she caught out of the corner of her eye and you saw her roll her eyes.

You were now alone with Sirius Black. Your crush.

Crap.

“So what brings you here, good sir?” you teased. “I must admit, you look suspiciously alone today.”

A look of confusion crossed his face before it was replaced by a flash of panic.

“No, no, no, I’m not here for a prank! Remus is busy being star student and James is looking for Lily. I swear, the day we prank you is the day I throw myself off a cliff.”

The determination in his eyes, as well as his promise, brought a soft smile to your face.

“So, you’re here because you’re bored? Or to keep me busy so James can catch Lily alone?”

“Merlin’s beard, woman, give me a break! I’m here because-” He stopped abruptly, as if to keep himself from saying something that was supposed to remain secret.

“Because?” you prompted, your voice no more than a whisper.

He averted his gaze, looking out over the water instead. A silence fell over the two of you, settling like a warm blanket.

Finally his eyes met yours again, his gaze intense, yet vulnerable at the same time.

“I like you.”

It was so soft, you would have missed it, had it not been for the stillness of your surroundings and the movement of his lips. You must have looked as incredulous as you felt; a small smile tugging at his lips as he repeated his statement.

“I like you, (y/n).”

When you didn’t reply, he cast his eyes downwards, muttering a brief word of apology as he moved to get up. At that moment, your ability to speak finally decided to come back from vacation in Hawaiï, and you grabbed his wrist.

“Wait!”

He watched you expectantly as you let go of his arm and nervously played with your fingers.

“I like you too, Sirius.”

His expression softened as he smiled, light and gentle like the sun’s rays on dewdrops that hadn’t evaporated yet that morning.

“It’s okay, love, I understand. You don’t need to say that to spare my feelings.”

“But I’m not!” you huffed in exasperation. “I really do like you; I swear it’s true. Sirius, have I ever lied to you?”

You swore you could pinpoint the exact moment he reverted to his flirty, confident self, as a cheeky grin appeared on his face.

“So, (y/n), will you go out with me? Yes… or yes?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, giggling at his attempt.

“Yes.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he grinned, sitting down next to you again. “You know, I think I practiced asking you out a good thirty times in the mirror.”

“You practiced asking me out… on yourself?”

He chuckled. “It sounds dumber when you say it that way. But yes, I did, and I must admit, it went quite well.”

“Mmm, I’m sure it did. Did you say yes?”

“Naturally. It’s only logical with such charms as mine.” He flipped his hair over his shoulder dramatically, like a model for a hair commercial.

The same comfortable silence settled over you again as you took in the events of the past half hour. Then his eyes met yours, gray like clouds on a snowy day, and you found yourself unable to look away.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted out.

“Please do,” you breathed, anticipation bubbling somewhere low in your stomach and spreading throughout your body.

His hand brushed your cheek before coming to cup the back of your head, his other hand pulling you closer by your waist. Then his lips brushed yours, a feather-light touch, as if he were afraid you’d pull away. You gripped his shoulder with one hand, using the other to run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to assure him that you wanted this.

It was like someone flipped a switch in him. He pressed his lips to yours, and you knew if you had been standing, your legs would have buckled out from under you. The kiss wasn’t hungry like you expected it to be; instead it was sweet and loving, like you were the ambrosia of the greek gods, or the air he needed to live.

Suddenly, you knew why girls boasted about being kissed by him, gushing about the details to their friends. It always seemed strange to you; why they bragged about something that was essentially a one-time event, but now you understood. If you were to die today, at least you’d die happy.

The need to breathe finally forced you apart, but it wasn’t strong enough to break the spell that surrounded you. Sirius was still so close he filled your senses; all you could smell was Sirius, all you could hear was Sirius, and all you could feel was Sirius.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmured, pulling back so he could look at you as your eyes fluttered open.

“I’ll bet you have,” you grinned, not fully believing him but unwilling to ruin the moment with your doubts.

“It’s true, (y/n), I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”

“You’re serious?”

“Why, yes, I am Sirius,” he joked, but soo, turned serious again. “But I’m also forever yours.”

Forever- what?

“Wait, were you the one to write me all these letters?” Realization hit you as the pieces fell into place, and like the parts of a puzzle, they fit perfectly.

Sirius Black was your secret admirer.

“I’m surprised it took so long.” He was back to his teasing, a grin plastered on his beautiful features. “I almost thought I had to paint a large sign proclaiming-”

“Shut up, Black,” you muttered, shoving him playfully. “You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me anyways.”

Merlin, why did you have to fall for the cockiest prick in the school?

“You’re right, I do.”

His grin grew even wider at that, if that was even possible, and he leaned in to kiss you again.

You let him, because- well, why wouldn’t you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take long before you grew closer, so close in fact, you were nearly attached at the hip. James often joked he ‘couldn’t tell where Sirius ended and you began’ but he would stop laughing when Remus smacked him upside the head and told him to ‘let them enjoy the beauty of love, Prongs.’

You now sat on Sirius’s bed, reading a book. Your homework was long finished and you were waiting for him to come back for cuddles. Why were you in the boys’ dorm? You were keeping Remus company while the other two were out playing a prank.

They burst through the door soon enough, chattering excitedly and laughing at their poor victim’s reaction. Sirius moved to lie on the bed with you but you stopped him. He tried again and you repeated your previous movement, leaving no space for him.

“Love, is there something I’m missing?”

“Yep.” You grinned cheekily. “You forgot kisses.”

A look of realization crossed his face as he chuckled. “I’ve kissed you so many times already, but I wouldn’t mind another.”

You leaned up to meet him as he captured your lips with his own, despite James’s gagging. You heard him yell in indignation; Remus must have smacked him again.

“Have I earned my seat?” he asked when you separated.

“Definitely.”

Shifting so he could sit behind you, you kissed him on the cheek quickly as he made himself comfortable behind you. His arms came to rest around your waist, pulling you into him. You felt his body warmth through your robes on your back and you snuggled into him.

“What are you reading?”

“A romance story,” you replied, turning the page and angling the book so he could read along, for you knew that while he’d never admit it in order to keep his reputation untarnished, he actually enjoyed reading from time to time.

“You’d think she has enough romance in her life with lover boy there,” James snickered to Remus. You only threw a pillow at him, barely looking up from the captivating story. Judging from his reaction, your aim was spot on, and Sirius muffled his laughter in your neck.

“Sirius, that tickles!” You attempted to squirm away from him, but his grip was too strong.

“Does it, love? How about this?” he asked, now pressing light kisses to your neck. You squealed, swatting him away with your book.

“You’re a prick,” you huffed, pretending to pout when you finally succeeded in putting some distance between you and your ‘attacker.’

Sirius gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “You don’t mean that, now, do you?”

You tried to maintain your composure, you really did. But he was gazing at you with the most adorable, yet pitiful puppy dog eyes, and so, you caved.

“No, I don’t. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around you again.

You then continued reading, his head resting on your shoulder as he followed along. You probably got a bit lost in the story, since before you knew it, the light from the window was dimming.

“You know,” Sirius mused, “I don’t know where I’m going quite yet, but I know I want you here with me.”

“Wait- what? Sirius, you don’t know what the future holds.”

“I know, but I mean it. When all my dreams come true, the one I want next to me - is you.”

Sniffling slightly, you turned to face him. “You are so much more romantic than you let on, you know. Shouldn’t you at least warn a girl before you go around being heart-meltingly sweet?”

“A bit late for that, isn’t it?” he hummed, hands running up and down your sides as his gray eyes gazed into yours.

You couldn’t resist anymore; you leaned down to kiss him. The moment your lips met, you were sucked back into this world that consisted only of him, the world you entered every time you kissed him. But what discerned this kiss from all others was the promise it held, the promise of a future, of a happy ending.

And it did; you live happily ever after.

Taglist: @the-moon-and-the-book @decalcomanei

[sapphirecobalt-1]

“The paint’s supposed to go where?” destiel, for the prompts! <3

The paint’s supposed to go where?” + Destiel, courtesy of @contemplativepancakes. Thank you so much for your patience <3

Rated M(ish). 2.5k

"The paint's supposed to go where?" Dean asks, shooting Cas a look that's half confused, half incredulous, and half horrified, which is one too many halves but Dean's never been good enough at math to care, especially not when his roommate of several years is staring at him like he’s stupid but doesn’t want to say anything out of misplaced politeness (it’s okay, Cas, Dean knows he’s an idiot, no need to sugar coat it).

Cas scrunches up his brows and it’s clear as day he’s confused about Dean’s confusion. "On...your...body?" He asks more than says, speaking slowly and it's a testament to how well Dean knows his best friend that he understands the meaning behind Cas' words. Is this okay? Are you sure you want to do this?

Dean glances back and forth between Cas and the paintbrush in his hand. “I thought you wanted to paint me?” he asks, uncertainty coloring his tone.

“No, I asked if I could paint on you.” Cas clarifies.

Dean doesn’t know jack shit about art, it’s why he’s a STEM major, but now he’s starting to wonder if he shouldn’t do that either, because really, who in their right mind would trust a person who can’t tell the difference between painting someone and painting on someone with an electrical system? Not Dean, that’s for damn sure.

“You want to...paint on me?” Dean repeats back to him, slowly, and as an added bonus even points to himself as if Cas could possibly be referring to anyone else in the empty studio.

Cas blinks. Then, he nods, patience and exasperation fighting for dominance on his features. In the end, understanding tinged with disappointment wins as he says, “if you’re not comfortable with this, I understand...”

“No,” Dean’s mouth blurts out before his brain has time to process Cas’ comment. “I said I’d help you with your project and I will.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asks hopefully, fidgeting with the paintbrush in his hands.

No. “’Course I am.”

Cas’ face lights up in appreciation and the butterflies in Dean’s stomach flutter up a storm cause they clearly have nothing better to do. Still, the look on Cas’ face when Dean accepts his challenge is enough to put the misunderstanding behind them and let go of his uncertainty.

Until it’s time for Cas to paint on Dean.

When Cas originally asked Dean to help him with his assignment, Dean thought he’d pose for a couple hours and Cas would paint him like a 16th century monarch (never mind that Dean wanted Cas to paint him like one of his French girls). And he was cool with that, hell, he even looked forward to it (spending time with Cas, that is, not holding the same position for who knows how long). Dean even did some stretches and practiced holding various positions for several minutes.

Nothing could have prepared him for Cas scooping up some brown (”it’s not brown, Dean, it’s called ‘Burnt Umber’”, whatever the hell that means) paint on his brush, walking into Dean’s personal space like he owned it (he did, good God he did), and painting broad strokes onto Dean’s pale, freckled chest. Dean shivers the second the cold paint touches his skin and Cas barely gives him time to adjust to the temperature and weird sensation of bristles on his skin before he goes to town painting...whatever the hell he’s painting.

Cas furrows his brows and Dean watches him stick his tongue out in concentration and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“So, uh, this paint safe for people?” Dean asks fighting a shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature of the paint and everything to do with the way Cas gently places his hand on Dean’s waist as he paints jagged lines across Dean’s chest.

Cas pauses to look up at Dean. “Of course.” he answers. “I would never ask this of you if I knew it wasn’t safe.”

Dean distractedly nods his understanding, his attention split between the sparkle in Cas’ clear blue eyes and the unfamiliar yet warm feeling ballooning in his chest. He looks away and forces himself to pay attention to his surroundings, afraid he might say something stupid if he continues staring into Cas’ eyes like that.

As far as college level art classes go, this one’s no different than most. It’s got several easels, canvases, paint brushes, and tubes of paint scattered all over the floor, tables, and open drawers. The sunlight streaming from the three floor-to-ceiling windows light up the room more than the dollar store bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The dark grey walls are littered with murals in various stages of completion: sketched out, drawn, half painted and painted. Dean briefly wonders where the artists are and why they never finished before his eyes land on the creepy skeleton in the far right corner. It doesn’t have eyes, but Dean swears Michaelangel-Bones (as the art students named it for reasons Dean will never understand) stares at him.

Having had his fill of the offending decoration in the corner, Dean turns to face Cas only to frown when he doesn’t immediately spot his friend. Motion captures his attention and he looks down to see Cas, on his knees, in front of Dean, getting some green paint before carefully painting small strokes across Dean’s stomach, one hand on his waist.

Dean’s brain stops working and his heart, doing the exact opposite, pounds so fast he’s surprised it doesn’t beat out of his chest like they do in cartoons. But why would it, when it’s too busy pumping blood down south?

Dean tears his eyes away from the incredibly attractive sight of Cas on his knees and faces Michaelangel-Bones as if the skeleton’s gonna help him keep it in his pants. Although, weirdly enough, thinking about the disturbing skeleton whose not-eyes follow him around the studio actually does help Dean squash down his inappropriate thoughts about his roommate. Just to be on the safe side, he conjures a few very unsexy images (the time he accidentally walked in on his parents doing the horizontal tango, him and Charlie pigging out at the local buffet, stuffing their mouths and making gross faces at one another) all in an effort to get Little Dean under control.

Once his thoughts, feelings, heart, and Little Dean are all under control, he risks glancing down at Cas.

Cas who’s carrying on, painting God-knows-what on Dean’s stomach, casual as can be, completely oblivious to Dean’s internal monologue, seemingly unaffected by being practically face-to-face with Little Dean. He’s staring at Dean’s pudgy stomach with the same intensity as earlier when he was painting Dean’s chest.

All of Dean’s hard (heh) work making sure Little Dean behaves himself almost goes out the window when he notices Cas is sticking his tongue out a little in concentration and Dean wishes he was using his tongue for something else.

Dean berates himself for going down that road before thinking unsexy thoughts again, Don’t think about that, think about the time we didn’t realize Miracle was a girl until she had puppies. He better get his thoughts about Cas under control before he runs out of unsexy thoughts and Cas ends up coming face-to-face with Dean’s feelings for him. The last thing Dean wants is to make things awkward between them by being forced to admit he’s been in love with his best friend for years because said friend notices his boner.

"Done with the front," Cas chimes in. Thank God, Dean thinks, the torture is over. Dean's heart rate begins to slow down a bit and his thoughts settle. He relaxes.

That is, until Cas says, "Now it's time for the back," his voice a bit deeper than usual, giving Dean a nervous yet appreciative smile and Dean's heartbeat spikes all over again.

He returns Cas' smile, hoping he doesn't look as nervous as his friend did while trying not to let his mind run wild with possible explanations for Cas' nervousness.

Instead, Dean focuses on Cas and his friend walks around him, deliberately not facing Dean, squeezes out some light blue and some yellow paint onto his clear, paint-covered pallet, cleans his current brush and gets a new one.

Dean clears his throat. "So, uh, whatcha workin' on?" He asks in an effort to distract himself, fidgeting with the hem of his jeans. It's not that he's not interested in what Cas is doing, whatever it is he's doing, it's just that he really needs a distraction from the heat of Cas' hand on his waist.

"I'm painting a tree on your chest and the rest of the garden on your back." Cas responds just as his brush begins to paint long, broad strokes across his tailbone.

Dean shivers from the touch which only makes Cas squeeze his waist and now Dean's shuddering for a completely different reason.

"Dean, I need you to stay still, please." Cas reminds him, stern but not unkindly, pausing his process while Dean gets himself under control.

"Sorry." Dean replies. Once Dean is still, Cas continues painting across his back. It tickles a little as the bristles leave trails of cold, wet, and slightly slimy paint over his muscles.

Dean feels more than sees Cas’ precise brushing motions, feels Cas’ hot breath heat up the goosebumps adorning his skin and his breath hitches.

Cas stops painting.

Dean looks over his shoulder to find Cas already staring at him. He meets Cas’ gaze and swallows. “Everything alright, Cas?” Dean speaks softly into the space between them, which, Dean notices, isn’t much.

“Dean, I...” Cas trails off.

This close, Dean can see his friend’s dilated pupils and he’s certain his are, too. “Yeah, Cas?” Dean asks softly and tentatively, worried that if he speaks too loudly it’ll ruin the moment between them, pop it like a bubble. He swallows again, somewhere in the back of his mind wondering when his mouth got so dry.

Cas responds by leaning into Dean’s space and all his thoughts about his feelings for his roommate ruining their friendship fly out the window as Cas lightly rakes his nails up Dean’s side, over his shoulder blade, and down his arm.

Dean shudders in response, loving the feel of Cas’ hand on his body, although he wishes the guy would put both hands on him.

Cas’ hand slides down his Dean’s arm slowly, as if afraid going any faster might scare Dean off. 

Once Dean feels Cas’ hand in his own, he intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand as if to say I’m not going anywhere.

The soft look in Cas’s eyes becomes so intense, Dean’s surprised his pupils aren’t heart-shaped like in cartoons. Nevertheless, he returns Cas’ heart eyes and he swears he stops breathing and his heart stops beating in his chest as the world around them disappears.

No more sunlight streaming through the windows, no more Michael Angel-bones staring creepily at Dean, no more cold, wet paint drying slowly on his skin; only him and Cas and the small space between them that keeps getting smaller and smaller until their lips brush.

He distantly hears Cas’ paintbrush clatter as it falls on the floor but Cas runs his now empty hand through Dean’s hair and nothing else matters except closing the all but nonexistent space between them.

He’s not sure who moves first, only that one second there is a space between them and the next second Cas’ chapped, pillow-y lips are on his.

The angle is awkward and hurts Dean’s neck but it’s worth it because the kiss is sweet and gentle and everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.

They part only when they run out of breath and Dean rests his forehead on Cas’. They keep their eyes closed a little while longer, still a bit dazed from their kiss.

After a few moments, Dean slowly turns around. He opens his eyes and takes in the sight of Cas' unruly hair, heart eyes, the tiny blush coloring his cheeks, and his spit-slicked lips. Gazing into Cas' eyes, Dean finally understands what that funny yet warm feeling ballooning in his chest is.

Love.

"I love you," Dean blurts out, his mouth moving faster than his brain can keep up. He looks down at Cas' shirt collar, unable to meet his gaze, afraid of what he might see.

"I love you, too," Dean looks up at Cas' wavering tone. Cas' eyes are watery and Dean wipes the single tear streaming down his face.

"You - you do?" Dean whispers in disbelief. Somebody pinch him because he must be dreaming if his hot best friend actually reciprocates. "L-love me? Like, love me, love me?" Dean clarifies. It's stupid and he's well aware it is but he has to know, he has to make sure Cas doesn't mean it in the friend way.

"Yes, Dean," Cas answers in a steadier voice with a chuckle and Dean's heart soars. "I love you, love you."

Dean wraps his arms around Cas' neck and pulls him in for a desperate kiss.

Cas must have been expecting it because he wastes no time wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and giving as good as he’s getting.

They make out for several minutes, only pausing to breathe, letting their lips do all the talking, their kisses saying everything they've never dared speak out loud.

Eventually, Cas breaks the kiss and Dean whimpers at the loss of contact. As they separate, Cas’ shirt peels off of Dean’s chest, which feels really tacky. Dean and Cas wear matching grimaces as they take in the paint on Cas’ shirt. It’s the mirror image of the tree and grass painted on Dean’s chest except the edges are smeared making it look like a blurry photograph. 

Dean stares at Cas’ shirt a little longer before the realization that he ruined Cas’ painting hits him. The color drains from his face as he looks at Cas with wide eyes. “Your painting, Cas, man, I am so sorry —”

Cas meets his look and his grimace gives way to a small smile and he lifts one shoulder in a shrug, as if to say what can you do? “Dean,” he interrupts, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I ruined your —” Dean tries.

“Dean, it’s alright.” He reassures. “You didn’t ruin anything.” A pause. “And if I recall correctly —” he smirks as his cheeks fill with a rosy pink color, “— I am equally to blame for ruining my project.”

Dean glances at Cas’ discarded paintbrush on the ground, rubbing the back of his neck at the memory of them making out moments ago. “Still…” Unconvinced and a bit guilty despite Cas’ reassurance, Dean prompts.

“Besides,” Cas grabs his hands. “I have more important things to do.” Cas gives him a very heated and suggestive look. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Dean swallows, hard, and nods a response, speechless at Cas’ words. He’s never really seen this side of his roommate and best friend but he is not complaining and plans on taking full advantage of this newfound discovery. 

And in the middle of the day, in the middle of the art classroom, he does just that, Cas’ painting long forgotten in favor of doing another kind of project.

[mybrothershands]

MBH/Dumpling 2

second installment, same art because otherwise you'll be waiting on it all day tomorrow. Characters by myself and @diddlesanddoodles and editing by @thundering-susurrus

The giant pinched up his face as if he smelled something bad. He then prodded the lump in his chest-pocket. "Get up, you lazy fool."

Several emotions crossed Yale face all at once, from anger to confusion to relief. Now that he knew where to look, Yale could see a distinctive lump in the man’s front pocket and heard the smaller voice emanating from within. Well, if he had a human companion of his own, that was a welcome relief. But he still kept his hand on Nenani. Grinning, he jerked his head to indicate the lump on Ka's shirt. “Ah, well I suppose that answers that. He yer assistant then?”

"Parasite, more like," he said, fishing around in his pocket until he caught the man by the shirt and pulled his shoulders over the lip of the pocket.

"Why you little two-ton son of a hog-bellied cob, I ought to--" The human smacked the hand away.

A nervous laugh escaped the giant, and he clasped his hand over the smaller man's mouth. "Er, this is my brother. He took care of me when I was small," said Ka.

Yale had been watching Ka fish around in his pocket and smirked at the human’s grouchy reply. The human’s snark immediately reminded him of Farris, but upon hearing Ka call him his brother, Yale gave pause. His curiosity was piqued.

“Wha –? Really? Can’t say I’ve ever heard ‘a that. That must be one hell of a story,” he said and jerked his head towards Ka. “Ye must’ve had a time of it keepin’ ‘im fed and clothed proper.”

The giant paused, then seemed to draw back within himself and looked away. Cairo, however, had no such loss for words. "Got that right. Ungrateful, too. You should see the spot in my side where he--" The massive hand clamped over his mouth again.

"I, erm," Ka cleared his throat, worry painted on his face. "I was old enough to work when he took me in. I cleared land for a human farmer in exchange for food. Cairo paid for my clothes and gave me a place to stay."

Polly then decided to use his leg as a scratching post and began rubbing her face up and down the side of his pants, leaning into him. "Woah, hey!" Ka said as he was knocked off balance. Once he found his feet, he pulled her bridle back over her ear and straightened her forelock. "But yes, I'm," he waved his hand in a circle, "I can work with humans just fine. They just need to let me know they're there and keep away from my feet."

“Ah, well no worries there,” Yale said with a light laugh as he pulled his apron aside to reveal Nenani at his hip. “You know better than to be underfoot, ain’t that right Dumplin’?”

Nenani nodded while she observed the new giant and silently marveled at his height. Despite the way in which he towered over them, he had a kind face, and she was not afraid.

“Farris doesn’t like it if I’m on the floor,” she explained. “He doesn’t trust the footmen to keep a look out.”

Ka's expression softened. She was a little thing, even for her kind, with auburn hair that shone in the sunlight. Somehow she met his gaze without fear, and it gave him pause. "H-hello there," he said quietly. "I am Ka. It's nice to meet you, miss."

It took the giant a moment to realize that the young man must have been hiding her, and why he had questioned him so. Come to think of it, he had not seen a single small person, nor chest pocket since he had entered this town. Pieces began to fall into place, and he decided he should not stay here for long. Not with Cairo. Absently, his hand found its way to his pocket.

“Hi. I’m Nenani,” she replied back, trying to look friendly. He looked so nervous, she thought. Yale easily scooped her up and sat her on his leg. After getting comfortable, she gestured up at the cook and said, “And he didn’t say so, but this is Yale.”

Looking confused, Yale looked down at her. “I didn’t introduce myself at all did I?”

“Nope,” she replied. “That was very rude. Lolly would swat you.”

“Ah, well,” he said, giving Ka and Cairo an apologetic shrug. “She wouldn’t be too pleased with me bringin’ the lil’un on this errand either. So there’s that.”

Cairo grumbled as Ka fawned over this little girl. She seemed unafraid and even kind towards his brother, which he respected. Still, he regarded Yale with a critical eye. Hooking his elbow over the frayed lip of the pocket, the human raised his voice. "What kind of kitchen is this anyway, boy? It's a bit late in the day to be fetchin stuff. What are you doing out here now?"

“Best kitchen in Vhasshal,” Yale fired back with a smug grin. He pointed over his shoulder towards the castle behind them. “That being the royal kitchen.”

“But Gjerk didn’t clean the chimney and it ruined the luncheon roasts,” Nenani supplied with a frankness that made light of the true disaster. “Almost caught the whole kitchen on fire.”

Yale frowned and, blushing just a bit, agreed with a muted nod. “Aye. Well, even the best kitchen in Vhasshal can fall victim to inattentive tenderfoots. So we’re needin’ to shuffle things ‘round a bit. Headin’ to a merchant who raises and sells field rocs.”

Ka's face became a smiling mask with a blank stare. Royal kitchen? Was this boy not worried that some stranger picked off the street could poison someone Important? Even the king himself? What if something went wrong and he was blamed for it and put in prison? Even he himself was not sure he deserved such trust, and yet kept his mouth shut in hopes that there was something he did not know.

Cairo, meanwhile, looked the man up and down, and then the girl in turn. They seemed easygoing and honest, if not a bit frank. At last he nodded. "We will accept your offer."

The giant balked. "Cairo, I'm not sure--"

"Shut up," he said, waving a hand. "Your belly's been a'growling all day, and I'll have no more of it. This is an easy job, and you're gonna take it," Cairo barked.

Ka paused, a hint of frustration on his face. Still, this was Cairo. The giant seemed to let go of his worries and nodded. "Just tell me what to do," he said, fixing Yale in his gaze, "and I'll help as much as I can."

He seemed eager enough, Yale thought. And even if his kitchen skills were minimal, so long as he could hold a knife, he could find something for him to do. Ka’s human companion was clearly the more dominant of the two, which Yale found to be quite amusing. And even a bit refreshing. He was so used to humans reacting to him with fear or at the very least nervous suspicion. Not that they did not have a valid reason of course.

He decided he liked Cairo.

“Well, first we gotta go collect them rocs and scurry on back,” Yale said with a grin. “So if we just wanna follow along we’ll go get that done and we can get ye to work.” He paused as he considered Ka. “And get ye somethin’ t’eat. Farris might gripe at me fer it, but believe me. He’s gonna be thankful fer yer help. Even he don’t show it. Or say it. Or yells at ye.”

Yale flicked the reins to usher Polly forward, bringing a hand up to hold onto Nenani when she almost fell off his lap.

“Ah!”

“Oh, sorry there, Dumplin’.”

"Oh," said Ka as he backed away and let the animal slip past until he could walk beside the cab. This Farris fellow seemed a bit crotchety. "Thank you," he said above the creaking wheels. The mention of food set his mouth to watering. They had had so many good things down at the market, maybe now he could get his hands on something. "I can pay you, but I'm afraid my coin may just be trinkets to you."

From his pocket, Cairo squinted one eye, adjusting his position to better watch the small giant. "Why you call her 'dumpling,' anyhow?"

“It was a joke,” Nenani explained with a flat look. “Wasn’t a very funny one.”

“I dunno, I thought it was a pretty good one,” Yale replied with a knowing grin. He poked her belly and the girl squealed and laughed, batting at his fingers. She lost her balance and almost fell back off his lap, but Yale was quick enough to catch her and place her safely down on the bench beside him. He ruffled her hair into a bushy mess. “Anyway, I caught this one here after she’d nicked some fruit. And right in the middle of the King’s weddin’ feast too. Don’t think I’ve ever been that stressed in my life.”

“He threatened to eat me...” Nenani said with the same flat expression.

As lovely as he found the girl's laugh, Ka's smile quickly faded as the girl voiced the joke. He made a sound half way between a choke and a quack. "Hmm?"

Cairo looked more surprised at the noise his brother made than Nenani's admittance. "Oh he did, did he?" He sat up, eyeing Yale. "He looks like a pansy to me."

Yale could not help the smirk of satisfaction at seeing the way Ka reacted. But his focus drew to the man’s pocket and the human within. Leaning towards them and planting his hand on the other side of where Nenani sat, he grinned at the human man.

“Big words fer a fella who travels by pocket,” he challenged. “Why not come on outta there and I’ll show ye how much of a pansy I am.”

Nenani glared up at Yale and grabbed onto his sleeve and gave it a firm tug. “No fighting.”

Cairo merely laughed at the girl's reaction. "I ain't stupid. Think I'll stay in the pocket, eh?" He slapped Ka's chest.

The giant rolled his eyes. He kept pace with the cart fairly easily, even as the Svaldifari trotted. He cleared his throat. "Keep acting like that and I may just let him have you."

"What!" he exclaimed, clutching a hand over his heart. "He might skin me, don't you think? You brute, you should protect your poor old brother."

Ka sighed, plodding along. "You can take care of yourself just fine."

“Smart man, your brother,” Yale said to Ka. “With him taggin’ along, ye might just survive a day in Farris’s kitchen.”

There was something very comforting about watching Cairo and Ka banter. It was all too easy for Yale to be drawn back to the horrible memories of the war and the way it seemed to him at the time that the bloodletting would never cease. Yet before him was a man who openly and easily called a human his brother.

“As fer skinnin’: nah. Too much of a hassle. Much easier to just toss ye into the stew and pop the lid on.”

Beside him, Nenani rolled her eyes. She had become nearly desensitized to all staff’s banter about eating and cooking people. Cairo didn’t seem like the sort to take Yale seriously. But Ka, she observed, seemed to not care for the jokes at all.

Ka lolled his head back, exasperated, then clamped his hand back over Cairo's mouth. "Ne- Nena-nani, er..." he chewed on his tongue for a moment, still trying to decide how many syllables the girl's name had. "Nenani," he said decisively. "He... Yale. He said he found you stealing?" said the giant, desperate to change the subject.

There were a few shoves and knocks on his hand before there at last came a double-tap and Cairo's mouth was freed. However, he kept his mouth shut for once and watched the road ahead. The mare seemed to need a bit of guiding, unused to going this way, but Yale was not quite paying attention. He peered ahead. Was this the way they had come before? Where was the market?

“Oh. Yeah,” she replied as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt in slight embarrassment. “But it’s not like what Farris and they all thought at first. I’m not from the Hill Tribe, I’m from the Southlands. They were loading a bunch of carts near the docks and I tried to sneak in and grab a persimmon before anyone noticed, but the basket was really big and I just...kind of fell in. And got stuck.”

Yale stifled a snicker as he corrected Polly’s path. She whinnied at him in annoyance. “I remember all them peels, lil’un. It was certainly more than one.”

“I was in there for three days,” she said and stuck her tongue out at Yale. “What else was I gonna eat? The basket?” When Yale only shrugged at her, she continued. “I grew up being told stories about Vhasshal and I was really scared. So as soon as the caravan stopped, I tried to run.”

“Caught her tryin’ to make a run fer it,” Yale added lightly pinching her arm. “Didn’t get all that far. Like...a half a dozen yards maybe before I got ‘er.”

Ka frowned. He did not like the way that last bit sounded. He steered away as they passed another cart on the road. He wanted to ask the stories about Vhasshal, and why she had been so frightened, but the girl had not seemed a bit embarrassed about that point in her past. Come to think of it, maybe he did not want to know. "Persimmons... have peels?"

The edge of the village was approaching, and Yale could hear the sound of the rocs long before their pens came into view. Their destination was a handsome little cottage just at the end of the tight clusters of row homes. Though was an older building and had but a thatched roof, it was well maintained and clean. Behind it were the roc pens. There were a dozen or so of the birds loose in the larger space, and Yale felt relieved. He was only going to need ten for the luncheon service, and he’d be able to get a few extra just in case anything else went horribly wrong today.

“Well, I think they’re actually husks,” she was saying. “They’re from overseas somewhere. But you’re not supposed to eat the outsides because it’ll make you sick.”

“Ye did get sick though. Just not from eatin’ fruit,” Yale pointed out. His eyes trailed after the other cart as they passed, having seen the way they had been gawking at Ka. Poor guy must get that a lot.

“Yeah, I had the red reap,” Nenani said. “It was terrible. But Farris took care of me and gave me medicine and watched me all night while I had the fever.”

Ka blinked, trying to make sense of this new information. He had no idea what red reap was, but then again, he was not familiar with most diseases. "It sounds terrible," he said, worry on his brow. The way she had explained it, it sounded deadly. He could not imagine having to care for someone through the night, not knowing if the little thing would make it.

Though he had not yet met the man, Ka found himself reconsidering this Farris guy. If he was the type to yell at someone new, it seemed a bit backwards that he would worry over a thief. He shook the thought away. He had not met him yet. Maybe he would understand later.

It was then he heard some bird-like squabbling, and looked up to find a pen with some frighteningly large feathery beasts. "What... are those?" He felt a bit stupid for asking, but then again, nothing was familiar to him here. Nothing at all.

"What, you never seen a chicken before?" Cairo butted in.

“Oh them ain’t no chickens,” Yale answered, giving Cairo an amused sideways glance. “Those are common field rocs. Those beauties eat chickens fer breakfast. Literally. They’re birds of prey. And they’re what we’re here fer.”

Yale maneuvered the cart towards the pens and when they were close enough, he pulled the reins lightly and Polly came to a gentle halt. She turned to her head back at Yale, expectation in her eyes. With a chuckle, he reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a pressed oat cake. Turning to Ka, he held out the treat. “Wanna give Polly her reward while I go spend the king's money?”

A grin spread across Ka’s face, and he chuckled. "Seems she's in good hands," he said, gently taking the biscuit from him.

~~~

Twelve common field rocs were in the back of the cart, their wings tied down to their sides and hemp sacks placed over their heads to keep them docile. Nenani hung off the back of the driver’s bench, looking down at the immobilized birds. They were as large as cows, and it was a little daunting to think that there were birds that big in the world.

The trip back was fairly uneventful, except that news of Ka seemed to have made its way around the village, They seemed to be getting more stares than before, but Yale made a point of staring down whatever gawkers he noticed. But he did not have the same presence as Farris did, and mostly, the people just kept on staring.

Nenani found it to be pretty rude, and to several she stuck out her tongue.

As they approached the back gate that led to the kitchen courtyard, the guards stationed there did double takes as Ka came into view, but Yale was quick to head off any questions. “He’s here to help out for the day. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Farris.”

There was enough of a threat in those words that they were allowed to pass without any form of harassment.

“Don’t let those guards make ye nervous none, lad,” Yale said to Ka. “Most of ‘em are real decent fellas.”

Yale was still looking towards Ka as he directed Polly along the road, around the last bend, and into the courtyard. He pulled the reins and was about to say something else when felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked down at Nenani. “Hm? What’s it?”

Nenani merely pointed further ahead of them and Yale’s gaze followed along. A large fire pit had been lit in the middle of the yard, and the largest of their cooking pans was placed over the top, with a sizable pile of pumpkins next to it. Saen and Avery were in the middle of carving a few up but had made little headway.

But what had caught their eye was none of them, but the solitary figure just a short distance away. Standing with his arms akimbo and looking very displeased was Farris. His green eyes narrowed at Yale.

“Yer fuckin’ late.”

Ever since the border guards, Ka had gotten increasingly fidgety. As soon as Yale quieted down, he slowed up and walked behind the cart. The castle ahead was bigger than any he had seen, especially this close up. He ran his hand up and down his sleeve, trying to create some warmth as his breath crystallized before him. Upon hearing the voice, the giant's first impression was how gravelly and frayed it sounded, possibly from overuse. The second was that it did not sound happy.

"What's it to you?" Cairo muttered under his breath. It was more of a knee-jerk reaction, than anything, but it was enough to remind Ka to keep an eye on him. The human's left arm and legs lolled out of the pocket. He picked at his teeth as the giant walked. "Move over, Ka, I want to get a look at this meathead."

Ka merely shook his head, hand straying up to cover the man. "Be careful here. We don't know for sure if it's safe yet." There came a grumbling and a shove at the fingers, but for the most part he kept his mouth shut.

Before Yale could even begin to explain himself, Farris caught sight of Ka, and the kitchen master’s eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and up and up until he met the taller giant’s eye. “And just who in the Seven Hells are ye?”

Ever since the border guards, Ka had gotten increasingly fidgety. As soon as Yale quieted down, he slowed up and walked behind the cart. The castle ahead was bigger than any he had seen, especially this close up. He ran his hand up and down his sleeve, trying to create some warmth as his breath crystallized before him. Upon hearing the voice, the giant's first impression was how gravelly and frayed it sounded, possibly from overuse. The second was that it did not sound happy.

"What's it to you?" Cairo muttered under his breath. It was more of a knee-jerk reaction, than anything, but it was enough to remind Ka to keep an eye on him. The human's left arm and legs lolled out of the pocket. He picked at his teeth as the giant walked. "Move over, Ka, I want to get a look at this meathead."

Ka merely shook his head, hand straying up to cover the man. "Be careful here. We don't know for sure if it's safe yet." There came a grumbling and a shove at the fingers, but for the most part he kept his mouth shut.

Before Yale could even begin to explain himself, Farris caught sight of Ka, and the kitchen master’s eyes widened as his gaze traveled up and up and up until he met the taller giant’s eye. “And just who in the Seven Hells are ye?”

Before Ka could answer, though, Yale jumped in. “Came across him on the way to get the rocs. He was lookin’ fer some work, and I offered to let him help us today.”

All through Yale’s explanations, Farris sized Ka up with a critical eye, pausing at the distinct bulge in the tall man’s pocket. His eyes narrowed suspiciously before turning their vitriol onto his assistant. 

“Oh ye did, did ye?” he demanded. “Are ye fuckin’ daft boy?”

Yale hopped down off the cart. “We need the extra help, and as mad as ye are, ye can’t deny the big fella could be of some help. Hell, he’d make short work breakin’ down the pumpkins.” Yale leaned around Farris to yell past him towards his fellow cooks. “A whole lot faster than them two knobheads!”

Saen and Avery looked up from their work to glare back at Yale. Avery waved his knife in the air, calling back, “Go fuck yerself, Yale.” 

Yale was still grinning when Farris drew his attention back with a growl. “And ye think I’d let just anyone off the street come in and cook in my kitchen, do ye?”

Yale glanced over his shoulder at Ka and then back to Farris. With a shrug, he said, “Honestly boss, I don’t think he’d fit. Be a bit tight.”

Farris’s ever-present glare faltered as an amused smirk crossed his lips. With a grunt he looked back at Ka. “Ye have any experience in a kitchen there, son?”

The giant clutched his fists against his chest, shoulders hunched and brow scrunched with worry. Though the man was half his height, he scared Ka. He looked like someone who knew how to fight and just might if aggravated.

"Y-yessir, just a bit, sir." Ka stuttered, coming out from behind the wagon. "Look, I promise I mean no harm, sir. I just, well I- I- I was looking for some work is all. He was nice enough to give me a chance. I promise I'll do my best if you'll only let me help."

Farris was silent for several moments, eyeing Ka once more. “Where ye from?”

The giant straightened up a bit, a slight hope welling in his chest. "Benhyke, sir. I'm... trying to find my way back there, actually."

“Never heard of it. So ye mean to tell me yer as tall as a fuckin’ house with no proper sense of direction?” The kitchen master didn’t give Ka a chance to answer before walking over to the cart where Nenani sat. He laid his arm across the drivers bench and looked at the girl. “What say ye Dumplin’? Think he’s some sort of secret assassin tryin’ to worm his way into the castle?”

Nenani blinked and shook her head. “No.” 

“Well, if yer so sure,” he said with a small smile and scooped her up. Tucking her into the crook of his arm, he turned back to Ka.  The warmth he had spoken to Nenani with was gone and the harsher tone returned. “Ye got a name?”

He scratched his head, still harboring the initial insult in his mind, and had not quite heard him speak to the girl. "What? O-oh I am Ka. And this is--" he paused. At first caution took over, but once he saw the way he cared for Nenani, the fear melted. "--Cairo," he finished.

Upon hearing his name, a single hand came out of the pocket and gave a dramatic wave. "Evening to you, you motherless goat," he called, then the hand disappeared again.

Farris’s expression darkened and, behind him, Yale was making a frantic motion with his hands at Ka that translated roughly to “Bad idea. Stop.”

“I’ll give ye fair warning now, boy,” Farris warned as he walked towards Ka. Pressing further into his space, he stared up at the taller giant and pointed towards his pocket. “Keep that one’s mouth under control or I’ll be doin’ it fer ‘im. I’ve had plenty of humans toss out insults at me and, one way or another, they learn not to. If ye wanna work, I’ve got work fer ye. And you’ll be paid fair wages fer it. But if that one skulking in yer pocket don’t watch it, he’s gonna become intimately acquainted with the inside of a roasting pan.”

Ka's face paled and he backed away, clutching one hand to his pocket. "No! No, please, he's my brother. Y-you can't--I won't..." He seemed to get ahold of himself then, squared his shoulders. "Take that back," he said, regaining his ground. If it were not for the girl in his arms, Ka was not sure what he might have done.

Farris did not back away, and his only movement was to use his free hand to cover Nenani as though to shield her. He met Ka’s eyes with a firm unwavering stare. “I don’t take it back. This is my kitchen and my word is law.” Farris let a small smirk come to his lips. “Just keep in mind though, I didn’t say nothing about actually cookin’ ‘im.”

The giant blinked, relaxing a bit. "What?"

At this point, Cairo heaved a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up. He looked the man up and down and came to a conclusion. "Ugly lump."

Nenani poked her head out from behind Farris’s hand. “No fighting.” 

At Nenani's word, Ka took a step back. There was still anger in his blood, and he elected to stay on his toes, but any hostility was snuffed out by the girl's voice.

Farris only adjusted his hand to ruffle her hair.  “Well ye ain’t no Blue Thorn Beauty yerself,” Farris shot back at Cairo, then raised an eyebrow at him. “Ain’t ye a bit old fer being carried ‘round like a babe?”

Cairo raised a brow, then patted the chest behind him. "This one here's the baby when it comes down to it, little man. Now--" He cut himself off as if he had heard something. "Alright already," he grumbled at apparently nothing. "What do I have to do to get your sorry bag of bones to do something decent, eh? This boy's half starved."

"Cairo..." Ka hissed through his teeth. "I haven't done the work yet."

Farris huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yale,” he called without taking his eyes from the pair. “Go grab this one one ‘a the leftover meat pies.” He paused, reconsidering the man and his height. “Make that two.”

“Will do, boss,” Yale replied, flashing Ka a wide grin before running off towards the stairway that led into the kitchen proper. 

“I don’t run a charity here,” Farris told him sternly. “But if yer gonna be any use to me at all today, it wont be with an empty belly. Ye’ll eat and then ye’ll work. Understand?”

"No," Cairo said blatantly before Ka had a chance.

[partywithgyu]

In The Pines.

🌙Members: Kang Taehyun and Huening Kai.

🌙Genre: Horror. More like, spooky.

🌙Tag: One shot.

🌙W/C: 2300+

🌙Summary: Taehyun had a dream. It was a lucid dream or rather a lucid nightmare. Along with him was his friend, Kai. Stuck in a lucid nightmare he can't manipulate, Taehyun has to deal with the horrifyingly weird happenings. He could get stuck in the nightmare only for that night, right?

‹•.•›

Taehyun woke up in a dimly lit room.

He looked down at himself, dressed in the silk sleepwear he wore to bed that night. So soft was the blanket he pushed away and his feet touched the ground. It was red but not a deep shade unlike the roses in the vase, on the white old fashioned dresser. Few steps towards it he took. Stopping at a distance, small, he looked into the mirror. He saw the reflection of the open window behind him, revealing the sky so enigmatic. No, he couldn't see his own self in the mirror for he was in a lucid dream. 

He did what one would if they were left to control a dream. He left to explore. His feet rushed past the tall bedroom door, down the stairs to the lower floor. He looked to the left then to the right. All around him were doors. No furniture, just doors. In the dimly lit room, he could see that the walls were of a pale shade. The doors were dark, with dull gold detailing. Confusion arose as he looked around. "Which door shall I go through?" The one straight ahead he chose. Opening it had consequences. Cold fingers wrapped around his wrist and he was dragged away. The face was familiar, but difficult to identify with the flashing lights. He could've looked over it for more time to try to recall the person's identity. If only there were blinding lights calling out for his gaze. 

Here and there he looked. Around him was chaos. Chaos was created by the people stomping around, screaming on top of their lungs, words he couldn't quite make out. They looked so dead. As if their eyes never once saw life. Holding in their hands, sources of colorful lights they pointed it around. Truly it was headache inducing. This was a lucid dream, he remembered. For it was lucid, he could control it. He believed he could manipulate it. So, he turned to face a wall. 

"Taehyun," called out a familiar voice making him feel relieved. He could recognize the voice to be of his best friend Huening Kai. He would turn to a different scene, he thought. No. He turned to see a familiar face in a scene growing more violent. He looked into his friend's worried eyes. Kai's eyebrows were furrowed, his cheeks stained with tear marks. "We have to get out of here," he said in a tone so pleading that Taehyun immediately held onto his hand. 

"Kai. Where do we go?" he asked, even more terrified as he noticed blood on the faces on the people. Now they held a weapon each in their hands once free. "Door. We have to get out of this mansion," replied Kai in a hushed tone. The last thing they needed was being charged at by the lifeless people. Twisting the knob, Kai opened the door. He dragged Taehyun out of there. 

Once again all around them were doors. They looked at each other. "How do we get out of here?," asked Taehyun. Breathing in and out, Kai looked around before looking at the shorter friend. "It has to be one of these doors right?," he said with a hint of nervousness in his tone. Taehyun nodded before hesitantly reaching for the other door. The door opened to reveal a mirror. Their reflection didn't exist. "Next door," said Kai before reaching out to the other door. He was rushing because the longer they stayed in the creepy mansion, the most afraid he was of whatever could happen next. Rather, whoever could come to them. 

The third door was pushed open by Taehyun. The young men narrowed their eyes, when bright light fell on them. It was a dimly lit room with a table at the centre. On the table was a cage and in the cage a very bright being. It looked like a fairy, that's what Kai thought at least. "Oh no. Has she trapped you two too?," asked the creature in a concerned tone. "Who?," the two of them asked at the same time. "The evil witch. The one who has caged me." They shared a look before shaking their heads, slowly. "We haven't met any evil--" "Oh good. You should escape before she returns." "How?" "I wish I knew. A window? Something. As long as you two escape to the pines, you're good." 

"The pines?," asked Kai. "Yes. Outside this mansion is a long road. At the end of the road are the pines. That's the only place she can't get you two," said the bright little creature. "As you walk down the road, do not talk to anyone else you come across. Do not believe anyone you come across." Taehyun gulped. The warning made him fearsome of what they would have to encounter on the walk. That's when they hear a small sound at the corner of the room. "Go! Go!" On hearing the fairy-like creature scream those words, Kai shut the door. It was for a split second that Taehyun felt guilty for not setting the creature free. However at times like that, one's own survival has to be prioritized. In this case, both their survival. Silently, he promised himself that he wouldn't leave behind Huening Kai no matter what. 

"Not again," they heard a scream from upstairs. Taehyun turned to the staircase. It sounded like a boy just like him. Someone, who seemed rather frustrated. "We should go," said the other boy before opening another door. Oddly to their convenience, the door led to the outside. "Outside?," he asked Kai who nodded at him before stepping out. Taehyun followed. 

The front yard looked ruined by chaos. Taehyun made the observation as the two young men walked to the main gate. The swings were broken. The merry-go-round was once painted with colors he could tell. Aesthetic, it would be to some. To Taehyun, it was chilling. To be present in a scene, under the purple sky, in a place unknown. He wanted to go back to the world he knew. He wanted to wake up. 

"You told me I would be able to control the dream," he said to Kai. 

"I told you it would take practice," reminded the accused man with a hint of nervousness in his tone. 

Kai was right. He was told that. But he didn't expect this to be the outcome. "Why am I lost in a nightmare?" The last thing he wanted to do was walk on the spooky road that they were walking on. At least there were streetlights. "It's alright. It'll get done today. It's only for tonight," muttered the taller guy, walking ahead. "Right. It's just for tonight. I'll wake up soon." He picked up the pace to catch up with the taller boy. He felt better about walking next to him. "How do I wake up?," he questioned. Kai looked at him. "Oh. It's easy. We just have to reach the pines. That'll be the end of the adventure, you see." 

Not knowing much about how lucid dreams work, Taehyun just nodded. That's all he could do anyway. Walking to the pines wouldn't be that difficult, he thought. Then, he saw someone sitting on the bench, at the bus stop. He noticed first the small golden ornaments hanging on the tip of a tall, pointed hat. It was a clown. A creepy smile was painted onto his face. The one that extended upto his cheeks. Taehyun clinged to Huening Kai. "Stop," he whispered. Huening Kai did as told. He turned to Taehyun with worry in his eyes.  "We'll be fine as long as we don't talk to him. He'll disappear if we do that. After all, this is a dream," he reminded softly. "I know." 

"Know what?," asked the clown in a high pitched voice. He was heading to them, on his hands, upside down. It was horrifying, his gaze. "Ignore." reminded Taehyun to Kai. A small nod from Kai, then they started walking ahead. It was going to be a long walk with a clown behind them. 

"Tell me. Tell me. I wanna know." 

"Oh! Let me guess! You know that you're headed the wrong way?" 

"My! My! The pines are the other way! Poor boys!" 

"You're so lost without your mom. Don't worry, children. I'll help you find them!" 

"Wow! Did she tell you to not talk to strangers?" 

"I am not a stranger. Look at me. Don't you know me? Take a look. Take a look." 

"Look! Is that a shark in the sky?." 

"Ah! Fooled you!" 

"Don't act like you didn't fall for it."

"Why did the mushroom go to the party? Because it was a fun guy!" 

The clown wouldn't shut up. More than terrifying it was annoying. So, very annoying. It was shocking when the clown screamed for he had been hit. The two guys turned around to see another boy, about their age, with a baseball bat in his hand. The clown lay on the floor, with 'X' painted over his eyes. To their surprise he was beginning to fade away. Kai looked over at Taehyun who just watched the scene. The unknown guy smiled at them. "You're welcome." Taehyun opened his mouth to talk for it to be covered by Kai. "Don't talk to anyone," he was reminded. 

"Why not? You can talk to me. I am just another wanderer. I wouldn't have hit the clown for you otherwise." 

Taehyun was curious about the use of the term wanderer. What did it mean to be a wanderer?, he wanted to know. So, he stopped to hear what the wanderer had to say next. "What? Aren't you two wanderers too?" He was clueless of what it even meant to be a wanderer. Yet, he couldn't ask him. "This is a trap," whispered Kai into his ears. 

The wanderer's eyes lit up as he drew a conclusion. He looked over at Kai who only seemed to be wanting him to shut up. "I don't know what to do other than tell you to not go to the pines. Don't go. Wake up." 

The warning made Taehyun even more curious. What was the guy talking about? He looked so human. Like a boy killing time. The way he had been waiting for the clown almost. He must've picked the spot to hide because of the streetlight. He could see the clown clearly that way. He was so tempted to ask him. "Taehyun, we have to go to the pines to wake up, remember?" said Kai, gaining his attention. "Right." 

Once again, the two guys found themselves walking on the path. The pines, they could see far away. "What did he mean?" asked Taehyun to his friend. "How am I supposed to know?," replied Kai. He sighed as he looked at his friend. "Dreams don't always make sense, you know?," he said. "I keep forgetting this is a dream." "Right. You aren't even able to control it so that makes sense." Taehyun raised an eyebrow. "Can you?" "Hm?" "Can you control this dream? Are you really here? Are we sharing the same lucid dream?," questioned Taehyun, stopping in his tracks. Kai stopped too. "I can't control--" 

A fish hit Kai's face. It was a goldfish, he could see courtesy of the streetlights. A few more fell on the ground. Surprised, Taehyun looked up at the purple sky. It was raining fishes, just like he had once read about in a novel. "We better run," said Kai putting forth his hand. Taehyun held onto it before the two of them ran to the pines. He giggled, once they were covered by the trees. He turned back to see a lot more fishes fall from the sky. "That was silly," he said to Kai. "Free fishes," commented the other boy. 

"Anyway, let's go now. I want to wake up," said Taehyun. "Sure." 

 "Don't go," they heard a voice say. Another boy sat by a tree, sadness in his eyes. He looked as pale as one could with the darkness under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for months. "It's a trap. Don't go in," he told Taehyun. Particularly, him. "They're just like the clown, Tae." "He's right," defended another guy, from not so far. Few more guys headed closer. "Don't go in. He's trapping you." He sounded very assuring. That wasn't enough for Taehyun to believe them. Why would he believe the people of this nightmare? As they started getting closer, trying to convince him, Kai held onto his hand. "Let's run before they trap us. They don't want us to get in the pines." 

The two friends ran as fast as they could. So fast, that the few of the unknown guys who tried following them, gave up. They ran and ran until they saw a golden bench. In the middle of the pines, a golden bench, had to be there for a reason. "I think this is it. It has daylight around it. So sit," said Kai to Taehyun. Relieved, the guy sat on the bench. It was over. The nightmare was over, at least that's what he thought. "May I never have a nightmare again," he said only to notice the creeper growing up from the land, creeping around his leg. 

Golden was the light surrounding the trees. Familiar was the voice that spoke as though it didn't belong a person. The voice belonged perhaps to the trees or the wind. Maybe, it was the purple sky. "You were successful, wanderer. Just as told, you brought to me a sacrifice so you no longer stay cursed. You're free from the recurring nightmare. You shall now dream freely, no long wake up in the mansion. Be vary of wandering back into my nightmare world again." 

Eyes wide open, Taehyun looked at Kai. He looked so relieved for he had finally gotten rid of the curse. How could he not be? Not even once he would have to visit this nightmare again. He had to work hard for it of course. To even convince Taehyun to try to have a lucid dream was work. Every bait was a work of art. It took efforts but it was done. He was free to finally have a goodnight's sleep. He felt as happy as Taehyun felt betrayed. 

"As for you new boy. Every night you shall visit this nightmare. Every night, you shall suffer. As it gets brighter, you'll wake up to a bright morning but at night you'll wake up to the purple sky. If you wish to not do so, get along a friend in the pines." 

‹•.•›

 To head to my masterlist click here.

[is-it-madness]

Sweet Treats

A/N: Well, well, well. As we know, today is the lovely Tom Hiddleston’s 40th Birthday, and to celebrate, I’ve decided to revisit a wonderfully smutty sub!Tom fic the darling @fadingfics wrote for his birthday last year. This fic had me sweating the entire time, so definitely give it a read and show it some love. You can find it here.

Summary: You’ve been preparing Tom for almost two weeks for his birthday celebration. Now it’s time to reward his commitment.

Madness List: this is a list of my thoughts of the fic, so major spoilers ahead.

1) ‘No matter how hard he tried, Tom could not make out what you were doing. The array of sounds around him was confusing, and his own fidgeting did not help. What he could hear were your giggles. You were clearly amused by his current predicament.’

Wonder what’s going on here 👀😏

2) ‘“I’m gonna be ready soon, my sweet.” You kissed his head.’

Cute 🥰

3) ‘Tom whimpered softly, and took a deep breath. Blindfolded and ordered to remain on his knees, hands behind his back, there was not much else he could do but wait.’

OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH OKAY OKAY I SEE

4) ‘He had been waiting for so long! You had denied him orgasms for two weeks, making him wear his cock cage round the clock, with the promise of making it up to him while flaunting the damn key around your neck.’

Hehe

5) ‘And tonight, during his own party with friends and family, you had made him wear his bluetooth anal plug, turning it on and off periodically, teasing him to his breaking point. The plug was still in his ass, vibrating on the lowest setting. He was so ready, his cock and balls were straining against the cage.’

... man is gonna cum by the lightest touch

6) ‘Tom stood up slowly, and removed the cloth from his eyes. His breath caught, and he growled deep inside his chest at the sight of you, sprawled naked on the bed. Strings of chocolate sauce covered your breasts, belly and thighs, like decorations on a cake.’

Thomas, your mistress needs to be cleaned. Thoroughly. Don’t miss a single spot 😏

7) ‘“Are you my chocolate cake, Mistress?” Tom asked in a low tone and half a smile.’

So cuuute bebe 🥺

8) ‘Wasting no more time, Tom crawled on the bed on top of you, and kissed you hard. He took one second to glare at the golden key on your neck, before he started to lick the chocolate off your upper chest. His skillful tongue worked over the chocolate lines almost with ease. All his oral training paying off as he eagerly sucked and licked your skin clean. He took extra time to lavish both your breast with his attentions before he continued his way down. You opened your legs for him, and Tom grabbed the back of your knee to lick the chocolate from your inner thigh.’

The urge to say ‘good puppy’ is just ready to burst from me. Also, totally random, but I don’t think I could ever do this. Too ticklish 😔

9) ‘Scooting up the bed to lay against the pillows, you opened your legs wide. “You may claim your cake now.”’

YASSSS!!! Damn, I am loving this 😌

10) ‘Tom leaned down and circled your thighs with his arms, pulling you close to his mouth. His tongue parted your folds to find you already wet. He moaned, relishing your taste. He pulled you even closer to his face, eating you as if your arousal had ignited something inside of him. He sucked your clit hard, tongued and teased your entrance and drank all your juices while staring right at you. Your orgasm was his prize and it came fast and hard, making you clench your legs around his head.’

Tom:

11) ‘Tom’s blessed mouth had you on the edge again in no time.’

‘Blessed’ 🤣 that’s definitely one way to describe it.

12) ‘Tom smiled up at you and rubbed two long fingers between your folds, getting them wet and warm before sliding them inside your cunt. His mouth went back to work on your clit while his fingers slid in and out, rubbing against your spot. Another orgasm rolled in, making you arch your back as you came shouting his name.’

Not me getting weak right now-

13) ‘In the afterglow, you watched Tom lick his fingers, wearing a rather proud smile. You took a moment to compose yourself before you sat up and beckoned him closer.’

Full of ourselves, are we? 🤨

14) ‘“On your knees, right here…” You patted the bed in front of you, and grabbed the chain around your neck. “Hands behind your back.”’

👀👀

15) ‘Tom did as you said, and held his breath as he watched you take the small golden key off your necklace and unlock his cock cage. He groaned loudly when you finally set him free.’

Also Tom:

16) ‘“You’ve been such a good boy Thomas, wearing your submission obediently.” You rubbed your nose against his, watching him blush. “Now, I’m gonna make it up to you. As a birthday present and a reward for being my good little slave.” You kissed him again. “On your back. Lift your legs up and open wide for me.”’

17) ‘You poured lube on the strap-on, making sure it was well covered, and then some more around his hole before sliding inside. You went slowly, letting him get used to the girth of the toy. Tom’s mouth fell open, his exquisite moans and gasps filled the room.’

*Inhale* I am thinking some dirty thoughts right now, and imagining him moaning and gasping is NOT helping.

18) ‘But you would not be rushed. You kept thrusting in and out, getting more of the toy inside with each slow thrust. It was driving Tom insane . It had been too long. He wanted to be ravaged, and he desperately moved his hips to meet yours. You had to scold him and hold him down to make him stop. Only when the toy was completely in did you increase your pace, angling your hips to make sure the toy rubbed against his prostate. Tom cried out when you hit the jackpot, and you went harder.’

😏😏

19) ‘“Mistress-” He grunted. “Can I- I want-” “Words, Thomas.��� You half-smiled.’

🤣🤣 I’m afraid the poor man can’t hold out much longer

20) ‘You kept your hand around his cock as his hips spasmed, cum spurting on his belly. You stilled inside of him, letting him ride down from his first orgasm of the night. Smiling down at him, you pulled out and removed the strap-on. Immediately, you grabbed another toy from your stash and covered it with lube, pushing it inside of Tom, taking advantage of how open he was. He hadn’t fully recovered yet, and moaned loudly when the toy started to massage his prostate. You knelt on the bed between his legs, and grabbed the flogger. “Touch yourself, Thomas.” You leaned down to kiss and nip his inner thigh, setting the massager on low. “What?” Tom lifted his head up, as if he hadn’t heard you right. “Touch yourself.” You repeated, sucking marks on his thighs. “You haven’t done it in weeks, now you’re gonna do it, and put on a show for me. I wanna see that cock getting hard and leaking again.”’

I swear I’m getting so flustered and squirmy but I’m also like ‘Keep going 🤤’

21) ‘“You paint such a beautiful color, my prince.” You said, tracing the lines on his thighs with your fingers. “So pretty…” “Tha- thank you for making me pretty, Mistress.”’

Awww!! That’s so cute!

22) ‘You crawled on top of him, kissing his chest and you went, until you straddled his hips. Sliding your wet pussy lips on his still half soft cock, you used the flogger to mark his chest. Your rhythm was slow, taking time to tease his nipples, and kiss the pink marks of the flogger. You ran your hands down his stomach, feeling the tense muscles ripple under his skin, and you tried to soothe them.’

... pretty sure this is going to be his most favorite birthday after this 😆

23) ‘“You are going to come…” You started moving your hips again, up and down his length. “…when I say so.” You increased your pace, feeling him swell inside you. “Because you belong to me. Your body belongs to me.” Tom was breathing in short shallow gasps, eyes fixed on yours. “Your pleasure and your orgasms belong to me.” Your voice started to quake. “I own them… and I control them. Yes?”’

Why is this so hoooooot 😩🥵

24) ‘Tom grabbed your hips and turned you over, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Fuck me! And he did, hard, deep, relentlessly, as if he was making up for all those weeks you kept him from doing it. As much as he liked to play, nothing ever compared to feeling your cunt around his cock. Hot and wet and perfect . It was the best prize you could ever give him.’

I’M MELTING I CAN’T THIS IS TOO HOT I- brb, I need to get some cold water. I can’t continue without.

25) ‘Catching your breath back wasn’t easy with Tom crushing you. You knew he had come on command right when you did. You could feel his cock still twitching inside of you.“Tom?” You pushed on his arm. He didn’t move. “Oh, shit…” You giggled to yourself: Tom had gone into subspace.’

Mehehehe 😈 I guess the plan to fuck his brains out worked :D

26) ‘He was dead weight on top of you, but you managed to get at least part of your upper body from underneath him. Running your hands up and down his back and playing with his hair, you waited for him to come around, regretting the position you were in, as you would have loved to look into his eyes.’

WHAT THE-? MA’AM YOU GOT ME FROM HORNY TO SOFT IN .1 SECONDS

27) ‘“Mistress?” Tom propped himself on one of his arms and looked at you, eyes still glazed and unfocused. “I’m sorry-” He added, trying to move away.’

So sweet, so bebe 🥺

28) ‘“Come here.” You cupped his chin, making him look at you. “You did so good, my prince. I’m proud of you.” You kissed his forehead and then his lips. “Thank you, Mistress.” He said with a small proud smile and a slight blush on his cheeks. His body wiggled happily as he snuggled against you.

YOU CAN’T JUST MAKE ME GO FROM RUINED PANTIES TO UWU-ING LIKE THAT IT’S RUDE 😤

29) ‘You allowed a moment to rest before you pushed Tom off the bed and into the bathroom. You were both covered in chocolate, sweat and cum, and in dire need of a shower. After getting cleaned up, and despite Tom’s exhaustion, you made sure he drank enough water and had a few snacks. As soon as you disposed of the bed cover, you both slid in between the clean sheets underneath.’

*still grumbling about being soft*

30) ‘Tom cuddled up to your neck, arm wrapped around your waist. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “For everything.” You smiled and kissed his head, holding him close, legs tangled with his. “Happy birthday.”’

🥺🥺😭 THAT’S SO CUUUUTE AND SWEEEET AND NOW I JUST WANNA CUDDLE WITH HIM!!!! *sigh* ;-;

[mists-of-hithlum]

TW: Non-graphic character death

They call her marred.

Finduilas has lived her whole life with those words whispered behind her back, gossiped over when she’s out of the room and sometimes even openly discussed when her family isn’t there to protect her. Her father has told her she should just ignore them.

“They just don’t understand how the Valar work,” he tells her. “Just because you haven’t found your partner on these shores yet, doesn’t mean anything about you. Maybe they haven’t been born yet.” He smiles. “Or you are like your aunt Artanis and your partner waits for you on the other shore. And you wouldn’t call her marred, would you?”

He is right, of course. They are all right. It’s not like their family isn’t the subject of too many rumours already. Her father knows exactly how it feels when people whisper about you behind your back.

But somehow, this is different. It is personal. It is against her, not against the circumstances of her birth or who her grandfather chose as his partner. It isn’t like the rumours the bored nobles of Tirion like to circulate about Indis and what she did to earn a place at Finwe’s side or how Arafinwe’s children and grandchildren shouldn’t count as real Noldor. They hurt too, of course, but when they call her, Finduilas, daugther of Artaresto, a flaw in the music, it cuts deeper.

Especially because they are right.

She debates herself over and over if she should ask Fëanaro about the rumours. He is the only other one in the family they single out too. But everytime she is either too afraid of his famous temper or another rumour makes her doubt again. What they say about him is so much worse than what they say to her, so she doesn’t. She shouldn’t trouble him with such trivial things.

When darkness falls over Tirion and flames light up eight swords with their light, Finduilas chooses to go even before her parents have said anything. She feels like she’s suffocating here in Tirion, with the gossip chasing her every step. Marred, seem the stones to whisper. Those blank, white stones without a flaw who mock her even in the pale light of candles and torches. Staying here would be a slow, agonizing death only prolonged by the absence of her family. And maybe, a voice in her head whispers, she’ll finally find her other half on the other shore, like her father told her once.

Not even her mother staying and Arafinwë turning back manage to change her decision.

It doesn’t take long for the rumours to start again.

After that first battle and after Findecano’s daring rescue of Maitimo – Maedhros – the gossips stay quiet about her. There are far more interesting things to discuss. But then comes the Mereth Aderthad.

Her father parades her through the entire feast. She cannot find a better word for it. Of course Finduilas knew he wanted her to find her partner. His absolute conviction that someone is waiting for her and he only needed to find them warms her heart on some days. On others, she wants to scream and smash things. She doesn’t need anybody. No matter what the Valar told them about Eru’s plans, how every elf has someone designated for them, she is whole on her own. But the other elves don’t understand and so she grits her teeth and smiles through a thousand introductions, handshakes and empty words.

Just once she gets a moment to herself. When she leaves her father’s side with the flimsy excuse of wanting something refreshing to drink, she can already hear the rumour mill working again. She snorts. For seemingly immortal beings, the elves are awfully obsessed with every little thing that changes.

“Don’t listen to them.”

It takes her a moment to recover from the unexpected visitor at her quiet little corner.

“Still as observant as always, cousin,” she greets Mai Maedhros and smiles the first real smile since the start of the feast.

Maedhros raises an eyebrow. “You know our family. Being observant is a survival skill here.”

Finduilas laughs and for a moment she can nearly forget about the scars that now mar her favorite cousin’s face and the hand he is missing. It’s like they are back in Valinor, young and carefree, with nothing to fear.

Maedhros’ next words destroy that illusion quite efficiently. “Don’t listen to them. You aren’t marred or tainted by Morgoth, no matter what they say. Believe me, I would know.”

It takes a lot of Finduilas’ self-control to not get up and smash the nearest tent into pieces because she can’t get to Morgoth right now to avenge her cousin. “I’m trying. I know they are wrong, but they just never stop.”

“And they never will,” Maedhros agrees quietly. “But they don’t matter, pitya tuilë. Someone will always gossip about you behind your back. That is the nature of the court. Your conviction is your armour. They don’t get to decide how you live your life.”

Finduilas raises her chin. “They won’t,” she promises.

A flicker of white fire raises its head behind Maedhros’ eyes. “Good,” he says and disappears the next moment back into the guests.

It is the last time she’ll see her cousin alive. Afterward, a part of her is glad she didn’t need to witness his downfall.

“Finduilas! Here you are!”

After Maedhros left, it doesn’t take her father long to find her again.

“I want you to meet somebody.”

Those dreaded words. But as Maedhros told her: Other people’s opinion of her doesn’t matter. It can’t hurt her.”

So she takes her father’s hand and lets herself be led to a handsome young Noldo with eyes grey like stone. The way his eyes never seem to leave her make her want to roll her eyes. Another one to disappoint then.

“This is Gwindor, son of Guilin,” her father introduces him. “He is one of your uncle Finrod’s people. Gwindor, this is my daughter, Finduilas.”

“Descriptions do not do your beauty justice, my princess,” Gwindor greets her. “I am glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you,” Finduilas replies politely instead of a snappy retort.

“In truth, you look like the pools of Ivrin when Arien herself shines on them!”

“It is an honor to meet you, Gwindor,” she answers and the hope in her father’s eyes nearly makes her want to throw up.

Once Gwindor gets over his worship of her – and truly, Finduilas isn0t so beautiful, not compared to her other family members – they get along quite well. She discovers his delightful sense of humour and they have great fun mocking the other members of Findarato’s court behind closed doors. Faelivrin, the name Gwindor gave her on their first meeting, becomes a joke between the two of them.

Her father still hopes she will one day discover that she loved Gwindor all along and Finduilas will have to disappoint him once again. She does love Gwindor. She really does. Just not in the sense her father and everybody else seem to want.

Gwindor is alright with this. It was a long, tearful conversation after Finduilas’ armour finally broke down and she told him everything. He accepts her the way she is and he couldn’t give her anything more. In return, he told her about his partner who died crossing the Helcaraxë and how he wants nothing more than what she’s ready to give him either. They never tell anyone else about those things. Their bond is their own and if others want to assume things, they are free to do so.

And then, the Noldor start to lose.

Aegnor and Angrod die first. Then Celegorm and Curufin come, Finrod gives everything up for a stranger and when the tales from the heroics of Beren and Luthien are sung all over Endor, Nargothrond quietly mourns its king. Her father steps up after his brother, but it is never the same.

When Gwindor leaves with his warriors, Finduilas nearly wants to call him back. She doesn’t. She knows why Gwindor needs to do this. He knows why she can’t be at his side. They don’t owe each other more than the other is ready to give.

They part and he doesn’t return. Finduilas knows he isn’t dead and that makes it worse. Their bond isn’t as strong as a marriage bond, isn’t as solid as one of two people who know their feelings for each other, but it was always there. She feels the pain Gwindor goes through even if he tries to shield her from it and she mourns for the elf he was. Even if through a miracle he gets back, he will never be the same again.

Through it all, only the hope of Gwindor one day returning keeps her going. After everything, the whispers have transformed into sharp-edged things meant to hurt. Her armour is strong, but even an armour can’t protect her from everything. Maedhros’ words have always helped her, but they can’t help her when she blames herself too. Maybe she really is marred. After all, everyone she loves leaves.

The miracle she hoped for goes by the name of Agarwaen and carries himself with the aura of a king.

Finduilas isn’t proud of herself for what she does next. But over the years Gwindor was away, the rumours slowly started to become unbearable and the man is right there. He clearly won’t fall in love with her and even if he somehow will, one day, she won’t have ruined him by pretending to be in love. Humans have more than one option in their lives, her uncle once told her. It still seems strange to her but she won’t complain when she gets such an opportunity.

Her father doesn’t look happy, but at least the rumours stop.

Gwindor doesn’t agree with her, but he understands. After their big argument, when he tells her Turin’s true name, they come to a truce. He still loves her and she still loves him. Their bond once again strenghtens when they decide they don’t need to put a name that doesn’t fit on their relationship. When she (badly) pretends to be in love with the human, Gwindor won’t stand in her way.

And really, she doesn’t truly love him. Maybe that’s enough to shield her from the curse.

Later, that misjudgement will cost her everything. Later, she will die alone and afraid on a hill for something out of her control. Later, the history books will paint her as a tragic figure, torn between two men she fell in love with. Later, the people who once couldn’t stop gossiping about her will forget her, an unimportant figure in a much grander history. Later, she will be remembered as the weak-willed child of a weak-willed father, a princess who died with her kingdom.

The history books won’t mention how she didn’t even get to die beside the one she loved.

When she finds herself in the halls of Mandos, she keeps to herself.

Gwindor’s beloved is here. She’s felt him die before her, so he is here too. Now they have a chance at reuniting. No need to ruin their happiness when they still haven’t found out how they truly feel for each other. Nobody on Arda needs a second Finwe-and-Miriel-and-Indis type of situation. Maybe in a couple of centuries, she’ll go and search for them. Right now, they are better off without her.

Finduilas doesn’t get a couple of centuries. She doesn’t even get a month, if her hazy sense of time in those halls can be trusted.

“Here you are! We had search everywhere for you! You aren’t still mad because I ruined your favorite brush, right?”

Finduilas looks up, disbelieving, straight into Gwindor’s grinning face. “Gwindor, you apologized at least a hundred times, got Tyelpë to make me a custom fit new one and that was more than twenty years ago! You can’t possibly believe I’m still mad at you…”

She trails off when his grin only gets wider. “I knew that would get you to talk,” he proclaims, satisfied. “Now get over here and meet my partner. I’m sure you two will get along great.”

Of course he’s right. Tinwë is a delight and she can see why Gwindor fell in love with him so many years ago. Quick-witted, sharp-tongued but surprisingly gentle and an excellent opponent in a discussion mark him as someone they had dire need of in Nargothrond. They’d have so much fun at court.

And maybe, she slowly likes him too. She doesn’t fall in love, just like it was with Gwindor, but there is something between the two of them that just feels right.

Tinwë is it too who finally gets her agonizing feelings for Gwindor sorted out. “You love him,” he says to her once, out of the blue, when they walk together through the endless passageways of Mandos’ halls. “And he loves you. Anyone who can’t see that is blind.”

“And what do you think about that?” Finduilas’ voice sounds strong but her hands shake.

He surprises her by turning around. “I love you too,” he says simply. “Not like I love Gwindor, but I love you. You make him happy. He makes me happy. You make me happy too.”

Finduilas has to blink a tear out of her eye when he lays a hand on her shoulder.

“He told me about the things people used to say about you. I don’t think you are marred, Finduilas. I think you are just the way you’re supposed to be. How could you be wrong? If you were different, you wouldn’t be yourself anymore.” He laughs and adds: “Certainly far more boring, that’s for sure!”

And then Gwindor comes and embraces all of them and Finduilas thinks, maybe she was right all along. Why would she need anyone when she’s the happiest she’s ever been right here, right in this moment?

And one day, all three of them walk together out of the halls of Mandos. Finduilas takes a deep breath of clean air, grips Gwindor’s and Tinwë’s hands a bit stronger and for the first time in her whole life, she feels whole.

[the-last-ghost]

As promised, Chapter 1 of my new story, The Woodsman. I hope that you all enjoy it. Please, like, share, or comment away; I appreciate it all and my inbox is always open if you ever have any questions, comments, concerns, or requests. Thank you all for the support and putting up with my hectic posting!

The Woodsman

 Introduction:

            Many stories usually begin when two strangers meet, lost family is reunited, true love is found, or best friends join together, all to set out on some epic quest… And just like any fairytale, it always ends with them living happily ever after.

           But what of those for whom the story wasn’t the focus? What about their happy ending? Is their story any less important? The Prince may find his true love, but what about his trusted guard who protected him along the way? The shepherds daughter runs away to a life of wonder at sea with a Captain who promised her adventure, but what of her dearest friend back home who helped her get away?

           The tragic part is that you will never really hear their stories. It is often assumed that they go back to what they did before, or they found some measure of peace and contentment with how the story ends. But sometimes… Sometimes they are not happy with how things end; perhaps their story is not quite over, not yet. So, they set out again to try and find that little something in life that they have been searching for. Maybe, no matter how thrilling their life is after setting out again, just maybe there is no happy ending for them… Maybe their story does not get told because, who wants to hear about a tragedy after finding their own happily ever after?

           Still… The story goes on anyway…

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Chapter 1: Farewell

           The tavern sat alone but proud at the last true crossroad along the Eastern edge of the Fanisa Forrest. Lights illuminated every window, their warm glow flickering out beneath the door, casting shadows and silhouettes everywhere one looked. The horses snorted and seemed to sway faintly as the sounds of music reached them. The sign by the door read, “The Hero’s Den” in fresh, red paint; but if you knew the area like me, you’d know that the true name is and has always been, “The Roads End.” For this is where many stories always seem to end…

           I make my way inside and am greeted warmly by my dear friends and have a full mug given to me by Sally, the serving girl who I know has been here for more years than I can count. At the long table in the center of the room, I hear hearty laughter bellowing out from Derrin, Viti, Greda, and the rest of the crew of the Horizons End as old jokes and new stories are traded around. As I take a seat at an empty table near the back, I watch as Sally runs drinks while dancing through the crowd, a smile filling her lips and a rosy glow filling her face as she locked eyes with Viti. Across from their table, Old Vern tells stories of his time before, “the wee lad” sought him out, asking for his help. I don’t even have to listen to know that Dahla is scolding him about how, “the wee lad” is finally back where he should be, as the true King, and that he should be shown respect… Before they both burst out laughing; no doubt going on about how crazy fate must be for their old friend to now be a king. All around me, I see friends, old and new alike, sitting side by side as they drink and make merry, telling the tallest tales as they simply enjoy being alive…

           Finally, my eyes drift up to the place of honor, the two “thrones” set nearest the hearth; clearly as a joke for they are still the most basic of the tavern’s chairs. Yet my eyes are drawn to those sitting there, my dear friend, the Lady Sasha, now my Queen. Next to the love of her life, Zain, the new and rightful King laughs as Captain Derrin goes on about how he had to rescue the King long ago from being pulled of his ship while fishing. This night is for them, friends and comrades all, drawn together from all across the land; for now their fight is over, and peace can finally be restored to the land. Tonight they make merry, for tomorrow they will be drawn into the trappings of court and all the other duties life will demand and many will all go their separate ways, but tonight, none of it matters for they are together and nothing can hurt them.

           I sit in my little corner of the room, watching and listening to the stories as the night goes on. Occasionally I share a respectful nod with some of the soldiers, a silent raised mug with a sailor, and a friendly wave across the room; but I hold back, for tonight is for them and I’ve no wish to ruin it… Eventually I watch as Captain Derrin makes his stumbling way atop his table as he rouses his crew into song after song, all while dancing drunkenly, much to everyone’s delight. They sing songs of old, songs of new, songs of the deeds that have been done and of the glory they have found; soon the songs mellow down, and the candles start burning low. The room is quiet for a while before I hear Viti’s voice signing slowly cut through the quiet of the night and I realize that it is their old farewell song for those they have lost at sea. I forgot that her voice could be so hauntingly beautiful…

 “Here we gather now,

In some far and distant town,

As we raise a mug of ale,

To those who’ve set sail…

 For tonight we live and laugh,

And wish you the very best,

For the sea, she’s come to claim you,

And may the stars guide your way.

 The Horizon, she is calling,

So my friend, be not afraid,

For though now you may be leaving,

We shall meet again someday.

 I will see you when it’s over,

On the Horizons End,

It may still yet be a long time,

For we never can know when…

 But we’ll drink ale by the barrel,

And catch up on all the tales!

So it’s goodbye for now, farewell,

Now hoist the flag and set sail!”

             As she sings, the crew all joins in and I see old friends share solemn looks, comrades raise their mugs, lovers hold each other closer… Sasha takes hold of the King’s hand…

           I finish off my drink and make my way for the door while they are distracted by the song and lost in their own thoughts. No one seems to notice as I don my cloak and rest my hat upon my head; I take a last look inside at them all, happy and together, before turning away into the night. I make my slow and quiet way to the stable and saddle up my horse, Vira, before guiding her toward the road and climbing into the saddle. It’s best that I leave now, lest I ruin this happiness I’ve helped them find.

           I’ve only been on the road for a brief moment when I hear a sign-song voice echoing faintly from the trees around me. “And just where do you think you are sneaking off to, hmm?” I sigh heavily and reign in Vira to a halt before saying softly, “Alara…” Suddenly behind me, I look over my shoulder to see her sitting daintily on the back half of my saddle, regal as if she were in some castle and not on horseback in the woods. “Of course you would be the one to see me leave. You can’t stop me, you know that. Not this time.” Without even looking my way, she replies, “You know that they are going to ask questions, right? They are all going to want to know why the ‘Savior of Lathuia’ just left without even saying goodbye…” Even as she says this, I can tell that that’s not really her concern. “Oh please,” I say, more spitefully than I intended, “We both know that they’ll understand why I left. And don’t call me ‘Savior’ because I know you remember what I had to do…” I trail off as I look away from her. “Fine then,” she says forcefully, and gently grabs my face, making me look into her piercing, amber eyes. “You are right. I know what you did, but I also know why too. Anyone who loves someone that much, is more than worthy of a second chance at happiness. So I ask you, what will She think about you leaving her now? After everything the two of you have been through together, you just decide to walk away?” I refuse to speak for a while, even as I feel a tear start to well up. “What is it you want, Fairy?” I know their kind well enough these days; they always want something from you… “Now, now,” she says, with mock offence, “There is no need for that. I am here because it seems that you are the only one not enjoying this little happily ever after… I want to know why.” I pull away from her grip, breaking free from her paralyzing gaze. “You know that I’m happy; thrilled even, with how things turned out. Sasha found her true love and is finally happy, actually happy, for the first time in a long time. And now she’s the Queen, no less! What, are you upset that I’ve forgotten to thank you for helping us? I apologize; thank you for everything, truly. Now please, let me be on my way.” I turn back forward and nudge Vira into a slow canter. As I do, Alara floats around in front of me, still sitting while in the air. “You love her, really love her… Don’t you? Of course… You hardly looked at them, but her… You couldn’t take your eyes from her all night.” Blasted fairies, you can’t get anything by them. “So what? You love her and now you are going to run away from it all? Is that your plan?” Refusing to even look at her, I continue on. “Fine! Yes, yes Alara, I do love her! I have since the moment we first met.” I bark out harshly, annoyed that she of all people is delving into my feelings like this. “And you know my story. You know it doesn’t have a happy ending; at least not anything like what they have now… But no, I’m not simply running away. The kingdom may be theirs and the people love them, but there are still many things out there that can end it; there are still many outside the kingdom that would gladly see them both gone.” I glance up at her briefly, and for a moment the look on her face was almost as if she came to a decision, but it’s so hard to tell with their kind.

           “So, you love her and are choosing to leaver her… All because you wish to set out and make sure that she stays safe and the lands are protected… That’s very noble of you…” She says the last, almost to herself. “If that is truly the case, then you know that this path with take you far and wide, through many long, difficult years.” I look her in the eyes and mockingly joke, “Well then, it would appear that the Seer was right after all. How was it that the prophecy went again?” I ask the last but continue on before she can say anything.

 “A warrior alone without a cause,

A sailor adrift without a ship,

A traveler lost with no stars to guide him,

A man destined to love that which cannot love him.

 You will climb to the heavens,

Descend into the darkest depths,

No land too wide or ocean to vast,

To travel forever to protect what you have lost.”

             We are both silent for a moment, remembering that night from long ago… “That sounds right too me; and you know just how far I would go for her… Besides, I would simply drive a wedge between the two of them if I remained behind. I’ll not ruin their chance at happiness; not after everything I went through to make it happen.”

           Alara watches me, her eyes glowing faintly. “You truly would protect this land from anything out of your love for her, wouldn’t you?” Though she says this aloud, I can tell she doesn’t need an answer. “Wonderful, then that is all that I needed to hear. For I am going to help you; or rather… She is…” Alara then nods to something behind me and as I turn to see, I watch as a woman steps gracefully from the trees; in the sudden fog that I never noticed roll in, it appears as if she is almost literally coming out of the trees… Her skin glows with the light of the moon itself, small, blooming flowers are entwined in her hair, and her gown is as vibrant a green as a springtime forest. “You’re…” My voice comes out shaking, slightly above a whisper. “I have gone by many names over the years, my son. For now though, you can call me Gianna.”

[bakubabes-tatakae]

For The Love Of Humanity’s Strongest (Part Eight)

Author’s Note: If anyone wants to be in a taglist for this feel free to let me know! Happy to do it for anyone!

(Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary: When all seems lost Y/N knows that she can count on one person to always be there for her brother, Eren Jaeger, and herself. Can humanity’s strongest not only keep Eren in line, but keep his relationship alive as well?

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six: *NSFW Ahead!*, Part Seven

Part Eight:

Word Count: 2,046

We all gathered around the table, munching on your dinner, attempting to enjoy each other’s company. The squad was clearly still unsure of Eren as their conversation drifted from the recon mission we would all be enduring in a month's time to the fact that they still had no clue how Eren’s powers worked and didn’t trust him. Eld was the first to mention his concerns directly. “Think of how many people lost their lives in the fight to take back Wall Maria. Then hope comes in a form never expected.” He turned his gaze from his cup of tea to Eren. “One that we’re not even entirely sure that we can deal with.”

I was getting awfully tired at the wise cracks from the men of this squad toward my brother. My eyes turned to daggers and I could feel Levi nudge me with his foot, clearly knowing I was about to go off one him.

Eld continued, not even realizing that I had gotten angry. “Most of us still find it hard to believe, so how does it work? This whole changing into a Titan trick. Really.”

Eren was upset about them not trusting him as well, I could hear it in his voice. He didn’t blame them for it tho. “I wish I could tell you, but the fact is my memories are not clear. Guess it’s kind of like being in a trance.” His voice brightened up a little as he tried to explain anything he knew about his powers to them. “I do know that the trigger seems to be hurting myself in some way. Like biting my hand.”

Levi lifted his glass. “You’re not going to get anything out of him.” He took a sip. “Not that you know who won't have a go at it.” I shot him a glance, knowing full well who he was referring too. “You’ll be lucky to come out of it alive if that one lay into you.” He put his glass back down. “Of course, it’s only a matter of time.”

I growled at him. “Will you stop scaring him Levi?”

Eren’s face turned to terror. “Who are you talking about?”

Like she had been paged to the room we heard a loud bang. “OW!” Hange was here, announcing herself without really meaning too. Petra stood and grabbed the piece of wood that had been holding the door shut, allowing Hange to come in. Zoe rubbed her forehead, pain clearly emanating in that spot. “I’m so sorry.” She sauntered in. “Good evening Team Levi!” She raised a hand to us. “How is castle life treating everyone?”

Levi sighed. “You’re too early.”

“Am I? I suppose I couldn’t help myself.” She stood behind me.

Eren looked over at her. “Section Commander Hange?”

“Hello Eren. In the event you haven’t pieced it together yet it’s my job to spearhead the Scout Regiment’s research efforts. Essentially, I poke and prod our captive Titan specimens.” Her face lit up at the mention of her babies. “I’d very much like your help.”

Eren was confused. “My help? In what way? What would I have to do?” He looked at me, a clear look of wondering what to do being offered to me. I smiled at him to try to calm him.

“Join me of course.” Zoe’s face twisted in anticipation. “On a quest of scientific discovery.”

“I’m happy to help, except, I’m afraid it’s not up to me. I'm under close restrictions under order of the higher ups, you see.”

Hange was having none of that. She glanced up at Levi. “Levi, what’s on the docket for him tomorrow?”

Levi scoffed. “Clearing out all the weeds.”

“Excellent then. It’s a plan.” She knelt to him and grabbed his hand, glory shining in her brown eyes. “Young man, tomorrow will be grand.”

Eren looked nervous. “Oh...kay… but, uh, just so I’m clear, what exactly will I be doing?” She squeezed his hand more, causing him to wince a little. “Are you running experiments or something?”

We all looked around at each other, watching the look on Hange’s face. Her excitement was about to get the best of her as we all mumbled under our breath, hoping that Eren would hear it. Oluo grasped his tea cup. “Idiot, shut up.”

I cleared my throat, attempting to get my brother’s attention, mumbling as well. “Stop talking Eren.”

Hange stared longingly toward him. “Ahhh, I knew it, you possess a curious mind, just like your sister.”

We all started standing and walking slowly away from the table. Hange was about to go off on a tangent and none of us wanted to be caught in the crossfire. Levi wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me toward the door. As we turned to leave I caught eyes with Eren. “Night little brother, good luck.”

Levi led us down the hallway, toward the room we would be staying while in this giant castle. He spoke as we walked. “You really need to cool it when it comes to Eren. I know you’re worried about him, but they’re your squad. You know they won’t do anything to hurt him unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

I sighed. “I know, it’s just hard when I know that they’re all after him. I know they’d all cut him down in two seconds if they had too, but I know that I couldn’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s why the five of us are here. He’s your brother. Not a single one of them expect you to be able to do something like that. You’re the last person in the squad we would expect to lay a hand on him.”

* * * * * *

When we reached our door he moved his arm from my shoulder and opened the door for me. “Ladies first.” He motioned forward.

I entered the room. The stone walls of the castle didn’t let much heat in, the room was like an ice box. We each stripped our jackets off and boots and climbed eagerly into the bed, both exhausted from the events of the day.

The blankets weren’t doing any justice to the cold air that surrounded us so Levi wrapped an arm around me, pulling me as close to him as he could. I could feel his warm breath on my neck. I rolled over to face him and buried my face into his chest, nestling myself between his neck. “Levi?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yea?”

“Do you think we’ll ever lead a normal life?”

His eyes opened back up, gazing down upon me. “What do you mean by normal?”

“A life where the two of us can finally settle down. It’s been six years since we met Levi, we’ve had anything but a normal life together.” He ran my finger around the material of the shirt on his chest. “I want the normal life, or at least as normal as we’ll ever get. Sure, we have a place together, and that’s normal, but that’s not what I mean.”

“What’s a normal life for someone in the Scouts, Y/n? We barely spend any time at the house we share together.” He kissed the side of my head. “We see each other all the time, but I know what you mean. You mean the nice home life with the kids running around, stay at home mom, dad comes home from work to be greeted with open arms…We’ll never have exactly that.”

“Even just a part of it Levi… any of it.” I could feel a tear slide down my cheeks as I started to think about my mother and father. “I have no one but Eren from my family left levi. I’m never going to be the type that doesn’t want her own family. We always said we’d talk about this farther on down the road, that was years ago now, we’ve never even touched on the subject.”

“Think about our lives Y/n, what aspect of our lives even gives us time for kids? He ran a thumb over my cheek. “I’m not saying I don’t want any, I’m just saying that we have to think about everything when considering it.”

I sighed. “I know. I just… I want that feeling, the feeling of being a mother Levi, someone that will love you unconditionally, you can screw up a thousand times over but the love in their eyes will never change.”

“I’ll make a deal with you…” He was hesitant. “When we have your brother officially in our custody for good, when he’s officially a member of the scouts with no strings attached and we have no one els we have to worry about because we’re obligated too… we’ll at least stop trying to prevent it.”

My eyes lit up some. “You mean it Levi?”

He breathed out heavily. “I don’t mean we’re going to try to have a kid Y/n, we’re just not going to keep the possibility of it from happening anymore.” He closed his eyes as a smile tugged at his lips. “I guess I can’t admit that I wouldn’t mind having that same thing in the future. We’re thirty-two. I guess it’s now or never.”

I could feel the warmth in my cheeks building. “I love you Levi.” I curled myself into his body. “I can’t wait for that day to come, you’ll make the best dad.”

He huffed. “I love you too, Y/n.”

* * * * * *

Sun shone through the windows of the castle the next morning, Levi and I still intertwined together. If the sun hadn’t shone through so brightly we would probably have remained sleeping a lot longer. As I attempted to unwrap myself from him his grip tightened. “No, not yet.”

I laughed. “What do you mean Levi? It’s morning, it’s time to get up.” I tried again, the attempt was futile.

“Just lay here a little longer. I’m sure they’re all just getting up too.” He knew as well as I did that when we were all out together and working the other four people in the squad weren’t able to do anything for themselves, always looking to Levi on what to do next. “They’ll be able to get the day started without me.”

“Sure they will Levi.” I put my hand on his hip and placed my lips on his. “If we're going to lay here a little longer why don’t we make the most of it?”

I could feel Levi smile through the kiss, he pushed me onto my back and kept his lips to mine. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t.” A knock sounded on the door of our room and Levi broke off the kiss, annoyance painted on his face.. “Yea?”

It was Petra, the woman was always right on time to ruin any moment between us that she could. “Sorry sir, I heard you guys talking in here. We’re all up and ready to go, we just need our orders.”

Levi groaned and flopped onto the bed next to me. “I’ll be out in a minute, get everyone in the dining room, I’ll meet you all there.”

“Eren is already there sir, Hange never let him leave last night. He looked pretty exhausted.” She paused. “But I’ll get everyone together Captain.”

When Levi was sure she walked away he spoke. “Every time. Why do we even try to have moments when we’re on missions?”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’re asking me? The girl is in love with you Levi. She has been since the day you asked her to be in the squad.”

He glanced over at me. “Do I sense some jealousy Ms. Jaeger?”

I slapped his gut, sending him sitting up with surprise, but he laughed. “Shut up Ackerman. If anyone is jealous of anyone else it’s her.”

He sat up completely and grabbed his jacket off the chair next to the bed. “You know you have no reason to be, right?”

I brushed my hair back with my fingers. “I know Levi, I never doubt you. I know you better than that.”

Another smile tugged at his lips, turning to a smirk. “Good.” He kissed my forehead and exited the room, leaving me to get ready for the day in peace.

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[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (IV)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: So, since I’m posting this one quite late on a Sunday night, maybe we’ll call the schedule day Midnight In Sheffield Mondays? I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

@alexbandguy86​​​​​​ @bettyschwallocksyee​​​​​​ @fookingsummertime​​​​​​ @juicebox-baby​​​​@darksydork7​​​​​ @edgythought​​​​ @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo​ 

Chapter IV - I Want It All

Isn’t this nice?” Mark asked. “I can’t remember the last time we went out for lunch with just the two of us.”

She nodded, feeling a bit calmer since she’d woken up after getting a decent night’s rest, even if it was a bit shorter. She’d gotten back not a minute late last night, for Mark had arrived when she was about to cover herself under the bedsheets, asking what she was still doing up. It ended with her in tears, mostly because of the pure confusion the day had brought her, but also because she’d felt like she needed it.

It was apparent that Mark was feeling a bit concerned, and was doing his best attempt to cheer her up a bit.

“I had an idea, please hear me out for a bit,” he started.

She pulled up her nose, because whenever he said those words, they were usually followed by some notion she wouldn’t like.

“What if we got married at the church back home?”

She paused. Not what she had expected, but certainly not something she favoured. “I thought we were going to get married in France?”

“I know, but… James and Rachel just told me they wouldn’t be able to make it around the time we’d planned to have it. If we just got married at home, I’m sure that would work out better for a lot of people on the guest list.”

“Mark, we’ve discussed this, and the invitations are already printed. If James and Rachel don’t think our wedding is important enough to make time for it, then I suppose they’re not coming.”

“Sweetheart, you know how much they’d want to come. It’s just…”

“What? Spit it out, will you?”

“I’m afraid my parents might get the wrong idea with us getting married in France.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, they think it’s a bit dramatic, for starters. And they know how much you enjoy it there; their guess is that you might want to stay there forever after all is said and done.”

She gave him a look. “So, your parents are afraid I’m going to chain you to a tree in a French vineyard so they can’t ever see you again? Do they think I’m drugging you into agreeing to everything I do?”

He huffed in amusement. “No, sweetheart. But they… they just want to make sure this marriage is going to work. And the first step in their eyes would be to hold a wedding at home. Think of it as nothing more than insurance that you’ll have a pleasant day with your family-in-law.”

“And I wouldn’t have that in France?”

“You’ll most likely be met with the sour faces of both my mother and my sister. And you haven’t even encountered my aunt’s death glare yet. That one’s a real deal-breaker.”

She sighed, fumbling with her hands in her lap. Her engagement ring was starting to feel incredibly heavy, as if the diamond had multiplied its amount of carats.

 She had tea with her mum later that day. Her dad was off to work.

“I… Uh, I don’t think we’ll be holding the wedding in France after all.”

Her mother lifted her chin to meet her eyes, gently setting her teacup back on its saucer. “And why is that?”

“Well, you know. I think it would be a lot easier for people to get to the venue because of work and all that. They wouldn’t have to go through all the traveling business, and it would save me and Mark quite a bit of money.”

Her mother hummed in response, but the look she gave her was critical. “I don’t think I remember ever hearing you talk about other people’s expense when you were little and showed me your wedding plans in your binder. That girl would tell everyone to sod off if they couldn’t make time for her special day, let alone think about saving money.”

She didn’t know how to respond.

“Darling, I love you. I would travel the world and back if it meant seeing you walk down the aisle. Please don’t let anyone ruin the dreams you have. I raised you better than that.”

 It was nearing midnight, and Alex had lit himself a cigarette in front of the old church. It was going to be a quiet one, due to the fact that Monday was the only day of the week the pub was closed. That didn’t mean the lads wouldn’t go out, but the singer just didn’t feel like it for some reason.

A few ladies dressed in shimmery dresses with feathers in their hair walked past him and sent a wink his way, but he barely paid them any mind. His mind was elsewhere, and the empty alleyway he walked through next was illuminated only by the stars and the moon, which shone like fireballs in the dark blue abyss.

He wandered back into a main street, but it was quiet there, too.

Until he heard the muffled noises coming from a figure hunched against one of the streetlights.

It was a girl, obviously, and she was crying. But it didn’t turn out to be just any girl.

His Arabella.

“Are you all right, love?” he asked. He’d crouched down next to her, attempting to move the hair soaked by her tears away from her face. He noticed she was shivering, and shrugged his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders. “I’m afraid the pawnshops are all closed by now. You’re going to have to find another way to get your money’s worth out of that engagement ring if you want to rid of it tonight.”

She sniffled a laugh, which he was pleased to receive from her. “I really don’t mean to show up crying every night. This is so embarrassing.”

Alex recalled Miles telling about the night you’d met. “Not embarrassing at all. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head.

“Alright. Then let’s get you somewhere warmer. Also, I’m famished. Are you hungry?”

 “Alphonse, how are you this evening?”

The bell had chimed as they’d walked into the small restaurant, and though the lights were dimmed, she could make out the quaint interior quite well. Round tables, probably meant for no more than two, with a small red tablecloth draped over a larger white one on each of them. They were adorned with clean sets of dinnerware, as well as a simple candle as a centrepiece.

There were grapevines hanging across the wooden beams across the ceiling, and the walls had various paintings of landscape upon them.

In the back of the room, sat the head chef, - she supposed, as he wore the biggest hat of them all – playing a game of cards with his employees.

“Not any worse than any other evening, mister Turner. How are you?” The chef called Alphonse replied heartily. She noted a hint of a French accent in his speech.

“Quite alright, as I’m surrounded by good company.”

“I see, and who might your lady friend be?”

She introduced herself politely, to which all of the cooks took their hats off.

“A friend of mister Turner’s is a friend of ours, Cherie.”

“I told you to call me Alex a long time ago,” came his protest. “Say, you wouldn’t have anything left sitting in the kitchen, would you?”

Alphonse chuckled as he stood, tucking his deck of cards in his shirt’s pocket after giving his fellow players a suspicious look. “I’ll see what we have left after your band of misfits came to raid the place.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t be complaining, if I were you. They’re your best customers, after all,” Alex called after him.

The chef grumbled something about empty pantries as he returned with a basket in hand. “And I advise you to take the lady out to dinner here at a more appropriate time instead of sneaking of into the night with a basket full of goodies.”

“Now, you know I never come here that early.”

 It turns out he’d packed them an entire cheese platter, with bread, butter, and a nice bottle of wine to make the basket complete. The singer had been gallant enough to carry it and pour her a glass of wine as they walked, to a location he would not yet disclose.

“It seems like you’re known around these parts as a night owl,” she deducted.

He looked at her for a moment, and hummed as an invitation for her to continue.

“Is that just the way you go about? Or does it have a deeper meaning behind it all?”

“Doesn’t people’s behaviour always have a deeper meaning behind it?”

“I suppose so. Something you’re not willing to talk about, then?”

“Perhaps when you decide to tell me why I found you crying on the curb,” he replied curiously.

She smirked, “Well, I’m not sure what you were doing parading the streets, but you were walking, and then you found me. Coincidence, I suppose.”

He shot her a look. “You know what I mean.”

She sighed, but as she was figuring out the right words to say, it appeared that they had already reached their ‘secret location’.

 It was a small square, tucked into the corner of town, with a big round fountain in the middle. Sculpted fish were spraying water onto the levels below, and the stream was a soothing noise against the silent street. The buildings surrounding it had their shutters closed, and the way they towered over the small space made it seem like they had walked into a private garden.

But the odd thing was, is that she recognized that fountain, very clearly.

“I…”

“Yes?” Alex asked.

“I… I thought they’d tore down that fountain when I was younger. The whole street, in fact.”

The man next to her seemed to tense. “Well, it seems not.”

“…It seems not.” She had kind of wanted to question him further on the matter, but as the pieces were slowly connecting in her head, she decided to wait until the conclusion she was drawing was entirely certain.

Alex set down the basket, and sat on the stone bench facing the sculpture. “So, how’s the wedding planning going?”

Just the thought of it made tears well up in her eyes again, which he quickly took notice of.

“All right, you could’ve just told me to fuck right off when I opened my mouth.”

She snorted, taking a seat next to him and reaching for a piece of bread. “I’m sorry. I just- That’s the exact thing that has gotten me riled up today.”

“How come?”

The genuine interest was refreshing to her, and it made her feel brave enough to continue. “Well, Mark just thought it would be best to change the venue’s location, since a lot of people would be coming and all that. I kind of ended up agreeing with him, taking into consideration that everyone needed to fly out to France for a singular day. But now my mum is disappointed that I’m not going through with my big wedding plans, and I’ve honestly been doubting every decision I’ve been making since the get-go.”

He nodded with his lips pursed in thought. “I think cheese solves a lot of problems.” He handed her a piece of Gouda. “But if I may ask, what do you want?”

She gave him a confused look.

“I’ve only heard you mention what your fiancée wants, and what your mother wants, and that you don’t want to disappoint either of them. But I haven’t heard you talk about your dream wedding yet. It’s like you care about everyone’s opinions except for your own. And it seems like Mark doesn’t care much for it, either.”

She opened her mouth in protest, “Of course Mark cares! He’s only thinking about practicality, and our future.”

Alex took a languid sip of his glass before replying. “Love, if you want to marry someone, practicality shouldn’t matter if it means you get to hold the wedding your sweetheart has always dreamed about.”

“I don’t need your judgement on my love life.”

“No, but you asked for it anyway. I can’t tell you what to do; it’s your life. All I’m going to say is, make it count. You’re not getting a second shot at it. If you want to go through the rigmarole of a big wedding with a guest list that never ends and a dress that blinds people with the amount of diamonds on it, then you should do it. Not because I told you so, but because you want to do it.”

She knew he was right, but was afraid to admit it. “I… I don’t want a big wedding.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want it to be private. Just family and friends. In a vineyard somewhere in France.”

He threw his hands up. “Then there you have it.”

“It’s not that easy, Alex. This isn’t all about me. Relationships call for compromise, not selfishness.”

He suddenly took her hand, and pulled her along the square until they’d reached the fountain. He took a coin out of his pocket, and held it out to her.

“What?”

He thrust his palm into her direction once more, but seemed quite reluctant to do so. “Take it, make a wish, and throw it into the fountain.”

“Alex-“

“Might as well give it a go. What do you have to lose?”

She sighed. Though reluctantly, she did as told, and closed her eyes. The slight ‘plop’ of the penny falling into the water was barely heard over the stream.

“You can thank me later,” Alex said.

But as he turned his back to her, she was feeling impulsive, and grabbed his shoulders and thrust him backwards.

This time, the splash was heard.

She clasped her hands in front of her mouth to keep herself from laughing at the drenched figure of Alex Turner, sitting awkwardly in a fountain. Oh, and how he looked absolutely pissed. Pissed was an understatement. He looked furious.

“You’re going to regret that.”

“Oh, am I-“

She shrieked, as two cold hands pulled her into the water with him.