#i do love how i rendered and did the final touches <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[5m0ld3r]

"I do not have self-control"

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"I am startin' to wonder"

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"Is this my free will or yours?"

(hehe tyler, the creator inspo <33)

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 33 - Avenir]

• Avenir (French, future)

Warnings: Yoongs & OC are the only couple ever, he tells her about the vampirism cure, they have a really deep & honest conversation afterwards, Jimin is a sweetie in this chapter

Wordcount: 7.6k

a/n: fjadsfjasjfas 

“___ I have to talk to you.” 

“Oh no. Oh god, what happened?”

“Hm?”

“You, you addressed me by name and told me that you need to talk. That’s basically double bad.”

“No, I actually need to talk to you.”

“Okay?”

“Just”, he intertwines his fingers with yours, “come with me please.”

“Yoongi, you’re scaring me. Did I do something?”

“No love, you didn’t. I did.”

“You did?”

Yoongi nods his head, closing the door to the secret study behind him. It is located upstairs behind a bookshelf and up until recently, you had no idea that it even existed. You only found out about it because you caught Taehyung and Yoongi disappearing inside it and you followed them. They stared at you as if you were a ghost and then babbled all about how it was too dangerous for you to be here.

“What are we doing here? I thought I wasn’t allowed in here because of the curses and stuff.”

“I lied. Partially. I was keeping something from you. You still shouldn’t touch anything.”

“Okay, sounds very confusing”, you murmur, studying his face.

“Just-”, he stops talking and sits down in front of the desk, pulling you on top of his lap instead.

“Oh? That’s comfortable”, you say, rubbing his shoulder softly. You are sitting on him sideways, feeling very safe that way.

“Mhm”, he agrees but looks anxious.

“What’s the matter, love? What’s so secretive that you couldn’t tell me until now?” you ask him, caressing his cheek. 

He leans into the touch, placing his hands on your hips safely. 

“I have to tell you something, which I kept from you. I, I thought that it would be best if I did, but I need your advice.”

“Okay, talk to me.”

“___, I found a cure for vampirism.”

Yoongi almost tears up when your touch stops and soon retreats. So you are disappointed in him. He fucked it up. He is so sure of it.

“You found a cure for vampirism?” you make sure with your eyes widened in bafflement.

He nods his head.

“When? How? Where?”

“Back at Meredith’s place. She had one of Nilrem’s spell books and on its last page it contained a spell for removing vampirism from a person.”

“Nilrem? Isn’t he your former teacher? The one who created the curse in the first place?”

“Yes. I think he wanted to reverse it and I think that is why he created the spell.”

“Well, that is phew”, you breathe out loudly, “a lot to take in. Why did you keep it from me? You know that you could have told me.”

“Because I was scared.”

“Scared? Scared of what?”

“Of your reaction.”

“Really? But it’s awesome news. We could use it on Namjoon and render him useless. It’s great news.”

“Yes”, he whispers in awe, “yes, this is exactly what I was thinking as well…wait, you aren’t against it?”

“Why should I be? I think it’s a great idea. Who knows, maybe Namjoon manages to escape his prison and then all the effort would have been for nothing. We can’t kill him either, so stealing his powers is the best solution. He’ll be rendered harmless and even if he escapes, he won’t be able to do much damage.” 

“Yes, this is exactly what I was thinking. I- holy shit.”

“What?” you laugh softly.

“You actually understand. I, I was so scared that you wouldn’t and that you’d call me cruel for even thinking that.”

You smile, finally cupping his cheek again, “No. You doofus, next time tell me immediately instead of boggling your little mind with what I could think”, you tell him, caressing his temple, “we’re a team, remember?”

“Yes, I. Fuck, I’m not used to it”, he confesses, “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner. I know I should stop being such a brooding loner, but I’m just not used to…having…someone to share stuff like this with.”

“It’s okay. I think the brooding loner vibe is kinda hot.”

Yoongi scoffs and chuckles, cocking his right eyebrow up.

“Hot?” he says.

You turn on his lap, now facing him completely with your legs tangling on each side of his hips. You hook your arms behind his head.

“Mhm-hm yeah, hot. Makes me wanna push your buttons until you break and show me where you like it”, you say in a raspy voice, dancing your fingers up and down his neck all whilst giving him a seductive little smirk.

He tilts his head back slightly, revealing his neck to your eyes.

So pretty and pale and so empty. You move closer, dragging your tongue up his neck before placing a needy kiss to his jawline. His breath hitches in his throat, his thighs press together instantly.

“Like this”, you breathe.

“Mhhm”, he hums, nodding his head in understanding.

“And like this. Do you like that?” you coo, kissing your way up to his ear.

“Yeah”, he sighs, letting his head tilt back as his eyes fall closed. He exhales shakily as your lips dance over his ear, making the softest of sounds when you bite down gently. 

He visibly shivers, rubbing his thighs together for just a second. 

“Princess…” his voice is breathy.

“Yes love? Do you like it? Mhm?” you ask him, trailing your kisses down to his neck. Just slightly behind his ear, right where he shivers the most as a result. 

“There is more”, he gets out.

“Yeah? Show me”, you encourage him, giving his thighs a little grind.

His hands touch your hips, holding them safely.

“I meant the spell”, he says, lifting his head with a heavy heart. He almost whines when your lips leave his neck, giving your hips a soft squeeze of desperation. 

Your eyes lock. 

“As much as I would love to let you push my buttons, I have to tell you more.”

“Yes okay, tell me.”

“Okay so, uhm”, he lowers his gaze even before he starts talking, “I could…I uhm….if it works on Namjoon and doesn’t kill him, I could use it…on…myself.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t even make a sound. And Yoongi feels like throwing up, which is quite ironic given how his vampire body can’t throw up, but in this moment he feels sick in anxiety. 

He lifts his gaze shyly, meeting your shocked eyes. 

“Please say something”, he whispers, making himself smaller.

“Why would you use it on yourself?”

“I, I don’t know.”

“You can’t”, you press out with a trembling lower lip. 

“Don’t cry please”, he begs, reaching out to caress your lip.

You move away, wrapping your fingers around his wrists.

“Yoongi, what the hell? Why would you even consider this?”

“I don’t know, I just…I’m sorry, please forget it.”

“No. No, I can’t. Not when you tell me something like that.”

Yoongi looks to the side. 

“Yoongi”, you shake his wrists softly, “my love, talk to me.”

“I just. I just thought that maybe we could have it.”

“Have what?”

“The thing we had in my memories”, he says, locking his gaze on yours. His eyes are slightly glassy. 

“The thing we had?”

“When I had a pulse and we kissed that, that deeply because we knew that our days were numbered and we shared one lifetime. Just one lifetime together. You and I.”

“Oh Yoongi”, you whisper, cupping his face.

He closes his eyes, leans into your touch before he turns his head and nuzzles his nose into your palm. A soft kiss follows, tender and filled with love.

“I understand what you mean. It must be exhausting to have so many lifetimes behind you and to never find peace.”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, whimpering softly. 

“But Yoongi, don’t you want to spend a little more time with me?”

At that he opens his eyes, looking at you with held breath.

“I want to know how it is to be a vampire”, you confess, “I want to be like you and live longer than humans and, and when that day comes, I want to know that I will have you by my side until forever.”

“Why would you give up your life? I don’t understand why you would want to live longer than you need to.”

“Because I just…growing old is scary. We’ll live with the knowledge that one day we won’t see each other anymore. What if you take the cure and then you’ll die before me? Then I’d be heartbroken.”

He lets out a quick laugh, “and I should accept when you die before me?”

You shake your head, “that’s why I’ll turn into a vampire when the time is right, so you won’t lose me and I can keep this sexy body.”

Yoongi tries and fails not to laugh. 

“You’re always sexy. I’d want you even if we’re both old and grey.”

You snicker, squishing his cheeks softly.

“I know. I’d want you too”, you say. You begin combing your fingers through his hair, painting tranquillity on his features.

“But no more talk about giving up your powers. At least not until we captured Namjoon. You need to keep your powers to fight him and keep us safe. Yeah?” you make sure. 

“Yeah I guess…” Yoongi murmurs and lowers his head.

“Tell me. What’s still on your mind?”

“I just want to”, he pulls you closer so he could hide his face in your chest, “I want to know that I have an option. Not being able to die no matter what you try, sounds like a dream at first, but when you”, his voice begins trembling, “when you lose everyone you love over and over again until loss becomes a fucking routine and when you see people finally finding peace through death over and over again while you have to get through everything even if it hurts so much you don’t want to go on anymore, you realise that not being able to die is a curse.”

“I understand”, your voice carries immense comfort for him, “I really understand why you feel that way. And I get it. Even if I became a vampire and most death becomes harmless to me, I could still end it by ripping my heart out. So in a way I still have a safe switch, but you don’t.”

“Yeah.”

“So I understand why you’re so happy about this supposed cure and I’m really happy for you too because I want you to have the option to find peace”, you speak with unconditional love in your voice, caressing his cheek and temple the entire time, “I know how much you had to suffer in the past and I really don’t want you to think that I want to take this chance at peace from you, but Yoongi let’s not use it so hastily.”

You tilt his head up.

“We don’t know what it does. Maybe it kills you instantly or maybe it kills you painfully. Or maybe you don’t die, but live your life in pain. Maybe your life catches up on you and you die in a few days, you know like in the movies when an old witch gets defeated and then becomes a million years old.”

He scoffs, “I don’t think that this would happen.”

“But if it does? Then you’d be a wrinkly old witch before turning into dust and I don’t want this fate for you.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes at you fondly. You giggle, giving his nose a soft tap.

“So let’s use it on Namjoon first and see how and if it works. And if it does and it is safe, then we can keep it in the back of our heads for darker days.”

You wipe the tears from his lashes.

“I’m not asking you to give it up. Hell, I’m happy for you that you finally found something that could finally bring you peace, but Yoongi I refuse to believe that living with me doesn’t bring you peace.”

“It does”, he says without hesitation.

“See?” you smile, “your life isn’t as dark and lonely anymore as it once was. You have me now and you know damn well, that I want to work my ass off to make living worthwhile for you.”

“You do”, no hesitation, “you make it worthwhile.”

“Well, that’s good to hear”, you caress his cheek with so much tenderness that Yoongi does everything in his power not to close his eyes. He can’t. Not yet. Not when looking into your love-filled, beautiful eyes brings him so much reassurance that whatever he may say, he can count on you. 

“Please don’t work so much for me”, he whispers.

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t work for me. So much. Don’t do it. I don’t want to be of so much work.”

“Who says that I don’t love doing it? Yoongi it’s not work, I love showing you nice things. It’s not exhausting and you’re not exhausting.”

“But what if you. What if you grow tired of it? Or, or me? Then we’ll have eternity hating each other.”

“Well, do you want to hate me at some point?”

“No”, he says immediately, shaking his head, “I could never hate you. I don’t want to.”

“Then rest assured that I feel the same.”

He flusters, looking to the side.

“I won’t ever grow tired of you, my love”, you say softly, tracing the slope of his nose and forehead, “I told you, you are the most exciting person in my life. And I mean it, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You too”, he presses out. He cups your face and pulls you close so your foreheads rest against each other, “you’re the best goddamn fucking thing.”

You chuckle at his harsh way of saying it, melting on the spot.

“You’re so cute. I’m so happy that I am. Yoongi give me a kiss.”

He leans in without hesitation, kissing you softly. His thumb is caressing your cheek as he does while your own is touching his temple.

Yoongi breaks the kiss after a moment, rubbing his nose against yours.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

“For what?”

“For bringing all of this up. I’m so unfair for burdening you with my shit.”

“It’s only a burden if it was forced upon me. My love, I choose to carry your worries. You don’t burden me.”

“Ah god”, he presses out, squeezing your head, “god, fuck”, he grunts then whimpers softly, “why are you so good?”

“At what?”

“At functioning?”

“I don’t think I’m that good, I just try to live.”

“I can’t do it. Any of it. I can’t be emotional or honest. It’s, it’s so hard.”

“Yoongi, you’ve been sharing your feelings with me for the last twenty minutes. You’re better at it than you may think.”

His breathing slows down, his hands finally stop squeezing your head. 

You chuckle softly and tilt your head to kiss his forehead. The breath Yoongi lets out sounds as if he just shed a million pounds of trouble with it.

“I don’t want to die”, he confesses.

“Mhm”, you kiss his forehead a second time.

“I really don’t want to die. Not when I have you. And, and I want to enjoy life with you.”

You smile, kissing his forehead a third time.

“Me too Yoongi.”

“But I just…I want to know that if I wanted to, I could…die. That’s all I wanted for three millennia. To know that I can also end.”

“I understand, this is totally valid and you are allowed to know that. This is why we will test it out on Namjoon first and then watch what it does. And if it is safe?” you tilt his head up, “well, then you can finally rest assured that shall the day ever come where you don’t want to anymore, you can finally close your eyes for good, but for now”, you reach for his eyes.

Yoongi closes them and sighs when you run your thumbs over his lids softly.

“For now I want to look at those pretty eyes for a long, long time.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, blushing slightly.

“You’re so cheesy”, he mumbles.

“I know”, you snicker.

Yoongi lets a pretty smile wash over his face. He places his hands on your waist, caressing you softly.

“Thank you”, he says, “you always know what to say.”

“Of course”, you assure him, pinching his rosy cheek, “we’re a team.”

“Yeah, we’re a team”, he says, smiling brighter.

He sighs in relief and drops his head against your chest.

“Fuck, I’m so exhausted now”, he confesses and chuckles, “talking about your feelings is tiring.”

You laugh, ruffling his hair, “yeah right? But you did it and that’s great. I’m proud of you, Yoongi Boongie.”

“Mhm”, he nuzzles, “princess, god I wanna sleep”, he laughs, “can I nap just like this?”

“But that’s uncomfortable. Let’s go somewhere we can lie down.”

“But walking”, he whines, making you laugh. 

“Fine, you doofus then let’s nap on this terrible chair”, you say, snickering.

Yoongi lifts his head because he wants to see your smile. He beams up at you so much that his eyes turn into pretty, little crescent moons.

You reach out with your tender hands and cup his face, caressing his cheeks as the sound of your sweet giggle makes Yoongi fall even more for you.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, hoping that the answer is a good one.

“No reason, I’m just happy”, you answer him, painting the goofiest grin on his pretty face.

“Me too”, he says, rubbing your back, “give me a kiss, my princess.”

You giggle and give him a big smooch. You pull back, let him chase you and smooch him again, basking in the lazy yet oh so happy chuckles and the soft sighs of approval he lets out. One more time because it is so much fun.

“Stop pulling away”, Yoongi complains in a whine.

“I’m not, just try harder”, you tease him.

Yoongi pulls you closer rather roughly, making you squeak and laugh.

“Don’t make me actually try”, he warns.

“Or what?”

“I’ll kiss you until you’re sick of it.”

“Oh no, that sounds terrible. How could you?” you gasp dramatically.

Yoongi smiles lazily, hooking his fingers behind your neck.

“Com’ere”, he whispers, “lemme kiss.”

You let him pull you closer, sighing happily when your lips finally touch.

“Ahem.”

Yoongi breaks the kiss. You both look to your side where someone so loudly cleared their throat.

Hoseok is gawking at you with big eyes.

“We uh..got news of…okay very off topic, but that’s how you guys are in private?”

“What do you want Hoseok?” Yoongi says, having his public voice back on.

“You guys are disgusting in private. Eww you are so whipped”, Hoseok teases, pointing his finger at you as he laughs loudly.

“Are you twelve?” Yoongi hisses with his cheeks burning up in embarrassment.

Hoseok snickers, “sorry, sorry I just had to say something. Goddamn, I won’t forget that ever again. You guys chasing each other like two love drunk idiots.”

“Hobi come on, get to the point”, you say with fondness in your voice.

“Ah yeah the point”, Hoseok stops laughing, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes, “the point is that you guys are two nerds. Hah!”

You can’t help but snicker. You must give it to him. He is a complete idiot.

“Hoseok”, Yoongi grumbles, “get to the point.”

“Okay, okay yeah sorry I just had to make one more joke”, he says and straightens his back, “I feel awful for being the reason for breaking up you guys’ cute yet very major nerd moment date, but we got a call from Fredrick.”

“What does he want?”

“His informants heard rumours of Namjoon not far from here. It’s just an hour drive and if we drive now, we could surprise him.”

You and Yoongi exchange a look.

“Holy fuck, that’s great news”, you say.

“It’s incredible news”, Yoongi stands up with you in his arms, sitting you down on the table, “I have to go.”

“I know, I’ll prepare the ingredients for the, you know, spell in case you’re successful.”

“Understood. Don’t touch anything you don’t know the purpose of, it could be dangerous.”

“I won’t. Good luck, love.”

He nods his head and breaks away from you.

“Let’s go”, he says to Hoseok and places his hand on his upper back in a brotherly tap.

“I really hope that we’re successful. Honestly I miss knowing that I can have a chill day without Namjoon appearing outta nowhere”, Hoseok says, opening the door for Yoongi.

The latter turns in the doorway, locking eyes with you. You give him a reassuring smile.

“Hyung? Are you not coming?” Hoseok asks him when he doesn’t budge.

Within a second Yoongi is by your side again.

“What-”, you can’t finish your question when Yoongi cups your face and pulls you into a deep kiss. The kind of kiss that steals your breath away and which leaves you dizzy once he pulls back.

“I love you”, Yoongi whispers, gazing at you as if it was the last time he will ever lay eyes upon you.

“I…love you too”, you breathe, feeling oh so flabbergasted.

And with that Yoongi finally breaks away and hurries outside. He gives you one last look over his shoulder and disappears.

With your heart racing in your chest, you look at Hoseok for just a second. He is grinning.

“Nerds”, he says, closing the door afterwards.

So now you are alone. You touch your lips. They still tingle from Yoongi’s kiss. Next your cheeks, which he held oh so safely. His touch still lingers on your skin like a warm reminder of good moments.

“Well damn”, you murmur, touching your chest where your heart is racing unbearably, “you’ve really got it bad, don’t you ___?”

“What are you doing?”

It has been around twenty minutes since the others left and you are still hunching over the book, looking at pictures because you realised that you can’t read the language it is written in. You lift your head upon hearing someone call out for you.

Jimin is standing in the doorway, wearing a full set of clothes for once. His hair is down, making his face appear younger and his cheeks softer. He does that often these days. Show himself in cozy attire. Good. You hope that he can only have comfortable days from now on.

“I could ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

“No, I’m not risking anything. You will not see this handsome face”, he points at his own face, “anywhere near Namjoon until the day he is behind bars and I can throw rotten eggs at him.”

You snort, “sounds like a good plan, do tell me when you plan on doing it, I’ll join you.”

“Will do”, he says, studying you from head to toe afterwards, “what are you seriously doing though? Isn’t that Yoongi’s spell book?”

“Yeah, I realised that I can’t read it, so now I’m looking at pictures.”

“Hm.”

Jimin pushes himself off the doorway and struts to you. He sits down on the desk, looking into the book.

“Huh”, he says.

“What is it? Can you read it?”

“Would you look at that? This is beyond interesting”, he murmurs as his eyes dance over the letters.

“What is it?”

“I have no fucking clue what that says”, Jimin says and snickers.

“Idiot”, you hiss, hitting his knee softly, “I thought that you could read it.”

“Nah honey”, he says, leaning back on his hands, “I may be old, but that language has more than two millennia on me, I have no idea what it says. The pictures look pretty though.”

You roll your eyes, “very helpful.”

He shrugs his shoulders and gives you a boyish grin.

“So what are you going to do now? Look at pictures all night long?” he asks.

“Yeah? Maybe I can find something that will help us.”

“I doubt it.”

“Thanks?”

“Not your brain, just that this book is any useful.”

“Thanks again? Did you just admit that I’m intelligent?”

“I never claimed the opposite. You have brain, which kinda annoyed me back in the day.”

You scoff, “well, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, “you are welcome. Don’t act too flattered though.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

He scoffs then chuckles, looking at you with a sort of friendliness in his gaze. He jumps off the table, strutting to the bookshelves behind you. You turn with the chair, watching him.

“There’s so many books I have no interest in ever reading here”, he murmurs.

“Do you not like reading?”

“Not really? It was always kind of pointless to me.”

“Well, then you haven’t found the right books yet.”

“Really?” he asks and snorts.

“Mh-hm”, you nod your head, “reading is fun. You can broaden your knowledge on stuff, lose yourself in different worlds or find similarities to your own life in sentences or characters.”

“Yeah, I see it, but I don’t need it. Sorry, hun.”

“Fine, whatever. I’m telling you, there will come a day where you will find joy in it.”

“Oh, I do find joy in it.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Back in the day, I loved reading Tae’s plays. He always has the most thrilling ideas.”

“Plays, you say? How come he never talks about his plays?”

“I think Namjoon forced him to give it up. He doesn’t talk about it, not even to me, but Namjoon has a liking for ruining people’s hobbies.”

“Well, that’s just terrible.”

“Yeah, he’s an asshole.”

“Did he ruin something for you too?”

“Other than my entire life? Sure, there’s lots of stuff he ruined for me.”

“Do you want to share them with me?”

“Ew”, he scrunches his nose up, “ew, why do you care for that? What are you doing?”

“Tzt”, you roll your eyes, “idiot, am I not allowed to ask my friend what his hobbies are?”

“Eww, I’m your friend?”

“Well now you aren’t anymore, you weirdo.”

Jimin touches the side of his neck, averting his gaze to the shelf in shyness. You click your tongue, turning with your chair afterwards.

You managed to flip two pages of Yoongi’s spell book when Jimin speaks again.

“Taehyung and I wrote a ballet once.”

You lift your head, listening to him with your back turned to him. You feel that if you looked at him, he would retreat back into his shell again.

“It was the best story he ever thought of and he wanted me to be the danseur noble. So I created the dance while he thought of the story and then together we worked on the music.”

You have to smile. It is rather sweet to imagine the both of them creating melodies together.

“It took us three years to finish, but then…”, Jimin becomes quieter in his speech, “…Namjoon interrupted our casting. He killed everyone in the room and broke my legs before he shattered Taehyung’s hands. He told us to remember our places and then afterwards Tae and I stopped wanting to perform the ballet.”

“Well fuck”, you press out, “I should have expected such an outcome and yet each time you tell me what this fucker did, I am surprised.” You turn with your chair. “I’m sorry Jimin, that must have been awful.”

“I was used to it, I guess”, he looks to the side in embarrassment, “at least I tell myself that. It makes it easier.”

“I can imagine.”

He takes a deep breath, releasing it in a chuckle afterwards.

“What are you doing to me? Are you some sort of witch? Why do you always make me open up about my feelings when we’re talking?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I just seem trustworthy”, you joke, making him laugh.

“Yeah maybe.”

He steps closer and for a moment you think that he might reach out and pat your shoulder. But he doesn’t, instead he turns his back to you.

“Either way, I’m leaving you to your stuff”, he says, leaving the secret study in quick steps.

Except that he doesn’t really. Just ten minutes later and he is back with tea and biscuits.

“You’re back already?” you ask him.

“I just figured that, I don’t know, you always drink when you’re like reading and stuff. I don’t know”, he places the tray on the table next to you, “here.”

There is one cup on the tray. You never realised that Jimin watched you read or that he watched you long enough to realise that you always drink tea when you do.

“Thank you, Jimin wow. That’s so nice of you.”

“Yes, I know”, he says, shimmying from one foot to the other. It seems that he is waiting for something.

“Why don’t you grab that chair over there and join me for a cup? Maybe we could look for clues together.”

“Sure, if you want to”, he tries to sound nonchalant, but it’s not really helping when he pulls out a cup from the pocket of his hoodie as if he was just waiting for you to invite him. He places it on the tray without making eye contact, then hurries to grab the chair by the window.

He places it next to you, sitting down with one foot standing on the chair and the other resting on the pillowy seat. You prepare a cup for the both of you.

“Do you want some cream in yours?” you ask him.

“Yes, that’d be nice. Thanks.”

He drinks it without looking at you, setting it down. He clears his throat.

“Good. I made it just right.”

“You really did. It’s very rich in flavour”, you say, turning your attention back to the book.

Jimin watches you for a moment, fumbling with the biscuit in his hand. It is covering his fingers in crumbs and the greasy residue of butter.

“Are you educated in witchcraft?” he asks.

“Me? No, I have no idea. You?”

“Just the basics. I picked up a few things when I was living with the witches in Paris.”

“I see. Well, then you know more than me. Although, I do know many spells that could kill you guys.”

“Why?” he gasps.

“I learned them back when we started hunting Namjoon. I thought that they might come in handy.”

“Sounds logical. You creep.”

“Hey”, you nudge his leg, “be careful I could just snap my finger and turn you into a frog.”

He snorts, “sure, I’d like to see you try. You’re human remember?”

“I know. Boring, am I right?”

“I think it’s kinda cool. I always wanted to be human.”

“That seems to be a shared topic tonight”, you mumble.

“What?”

“Nothing, I was just mumbling nonsense”, you dismiss him, drinking some tea, “but enough about that. We have spells to find.”

“What are we looking for anyways?”

“I don’t know, something that could stop Namjoon.”

“Ripping off his head will stop him for a while. Easy.”

You chuckle, “sure. If we can get close enough to him to do that.”

“Yoongi will. He’s stronger than Namjoon.”

“Really?”

“Well, at least a little. That’s what he told me. It’s because he’s a Gluttonous Ripper and Namjoon’s just a Glutton. And I think he was also like the first ever vampire so he’s older too. You know. The strength adds up. Yoongi’s like unstoppable basically.”

“It makes sense. Maybe that’s why Namjoon hasn’t tried to attack us yet. Or why he never tried to actively eliminate Yoongi.”

“That, but also Namjoon is hated way more than Yoongi and barely has people helping him. Yoongi would just have to snap his fingers and people would want to help. Namjoon not so much. Even if the old grumps likes to pretend that everyone hates him just as much, they really don’t.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do. The community knows what he did for us. As do the witches and werewolves. They’re not blind to all the sacrifices he made. Trust me, I talk to a lot people. Why do you think I’m still alive?”

“Thea?”

“Yeah, besides her. It’s because I always pulled the I’m friends with Min Yoongi card when I got myself into trouble.”

“You’re such a sneaky bastard”, you say, stifling a laugh.

“A sneaky bastard, who knew how to survive”, he says with a lifted finger.

“True that, I can’t deny it.”

Jimin smiles and you retort it.

The air feels comfortable between you and him. It’s a nice feeling to experience.

“Now, let’s actually get this started”, he says and stands up. He places his hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I’ll check the shelves.”

“Good idea. I’ll check the rest of the book.”

You spent the next hour in silence. It is a comfortable silence. It is the kind of silence, you thought to never be able to share with Jimin. You like that you can however. It is better to spend time with him that way, instead of always wanting to rip each others’ heads off.

The both of you finish the tea in the time of silence. You get another cup and more biscuits as well. He thanks you for it and then returns to rummaging around the piles of books.

The can has been significantly emptied when Jimin officially returns to the table, placing a book on top of it. He sits down again, reaching for his cup of tea.

“What’s that?” you ask him.

“A spellbook, it’s in Latin”, he says, crossing his legs nonchalantly, “maybe you could like it.”

“That’s a good find. Thank you, Jimin.”

“Sure, no biggie.”

He watches you for a moment, finding it peculiar that you furrow your brows when you concentrate. He isn’t judging it, he just finds it funny because it makes you look angry at the book. He eats one of the biscuits and sips on his tea.

“Anything interesting yet?” he asks.

“No, just Latin I’m too dumb to understand”, you murmur, reaching for your cup without looking.

Jimin pushes it to you so you wouldn’t miss it, handing you a piece of biscuit seconds later. You accept it absentmindedly, dunking it into your tea and forgetting it right there.

“Geez, take the cookie out, you’re drowning it”, Jimin says, pulling your hand away.

“Huh? Oh dear, I totally didn’t notice that.”

“I couldn’t tell at all. Ew, soggy biscuit.”

“It’s good stuff, don’t judge it”, you say, eating it most deliciously.

“If you say so”, he murmurs, scrunching his nose up.

“You go look for another book, instead of judging me.”

“I’m not judging you, on the contrary.”

You turn with your chair.

“Really? What’s that supposed to mean.”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Nothing really. Do you think the others have reached Namjoon by now?”

You check your watch.

“It’s been more than hour. They should have arrived by now. Let’s hope that they’re okay.”

“They’re definitely fine. They all know how to fight and they have Yoongi.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m still really worried.”

“Why?”

“What if someone gets hurt?”

“Then they’ll heal. Don’t worry.”

You sigh in defeat, “I guess. Gosh, I always get so worried when they leave to fight. I should stop that, it’s not like they can get hurt. And Yoongi will keep them safe.”

Jimin nods his head, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Exactly, he’ll keep them safe.”

He stands up again and returns to the bookshelf. He wouldn’t tell you, but he enjoys today’s evening. Your scent doesn’t annoy him anymore and your heartbeat doesn’t make him angry anymore. As a matter of fact, he finds the sounds of it rather relaxing. Just as he finds the sounds of you flipping the pages or setting your cup of tea down relaxing.

He also wouldn’t tell you that ever since he swore to be better for Tae, he turned his emotions back on. Because admitting that would mean that he would also have to admit that you were right. Feeling is nice if you are surrounded by good people. It is just incredibly hard to accept that he was indeed surrounded by good people these days. The thought of Namjoon still lingers in the back of his mind and sometimes he catches himself in the act of being rude to someone without even wanting to.

He tries very hard not to this evening, because you have been so nice to him. You let him hang out with Taehyung and you show no signs of disgust over their bond. You talk to him nicely even after all the awful shit he pulled with you. And you called him your friend.

Jimin sneaks a glance at you. You have one leg pulled on the chair, hunching terribly.

He smiles.

You are the second person after Taehyung to call him a friend. It feels nice to be called a friend for once. Enemy sounds so familiar, but leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Friend sounds unfamiliar, but leaves sweetness behind. He likes it a lot and he hopes that he can hear it a lot from now on, because he wants to be friends with you and the others.

“Jimin, look.”

“Yeah? Found something?”

He takes the space behind you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. It makes you sneak a glance up at him because of the unfamiliarity of it. He doesn’t seem to notice, looking at the book. So you don’t call him out on it, turning your attention to the book instead.

“It’s a spell about magical barriers. It says you need sorbus aucuparia to keep mythical creatures out.”

“Okay? And now for dummies please.”

“Mountain ash. It says that you have to grind up the bark of it and then sprinkle it on your threshold whilst repeating these words.”

“Sounds a little like nonsense to me. I never heard of mountain ash being able to stop us.”

“I mean, in theory every good piece of wood is able to stop you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, good god”, he says and squeezes your shoulders.

You snicker.

“Tzt, just keep looking”, he says, abandoning your shoulders for the sake of finding something interesting.

The second can of tea gets emptied by you and him. The plate of biscuits soon is empty as well. Jimin finds two more books, which you now read on the sofa in the sitting room next to the kitchen. The one with the red satin sofas and huge marble statues of Alpha in each corner of the room. Taehyung made them over the span of ten years. Namjoon’s statue was covered by a heavy piece of fabric these days. Jimin reads too, resting on the sofa with his legs dangling over the headrest and his head almost falling off the edge.

Every now and then, the sounds of pages flipping cuts through the silence.

“Urgh boring”, Jimin breaks said silence with a loud groan.

“What?” you ask, lowering your book.

“Reading is so boring. Can’t we do something else?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just anything other than reading. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Sure, with what television?”

Jimin drops his head over the edge of the sofa, scanning his eyes over the upside down room.

“Urgh, uncool. Why do we not own a TV? What’s wrong with us? We have to buy one soon, it’s ridiculous. We’re living as if we’re still in 1834. Urgh, I’m so bored”, he whines with a huge pout on his lips.

“Just read your book”, you say with amusement lacing your voice.

Jimin lifts his head and drops it on the sofa in a weird angle.

“Let’s go to the movies together.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, duh.”

“What if the others come back in the meantime?”

“We’ll just leave a note or something.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on ___, don’t be so boring.”

“I don’t know”, you whine, “I kind of want to be here when they return so we can make sure that they’re all okay.”

“They’re going to be fine. They have Yoongi, remember?”

You roll your eyes, “you can’t convince me that easily.”

“Urgh ___”, Jimin whines, “come on, let’s go to the movies.”

“Let’s just wait for a little, maybe they’ll come back soon.”

“___!” someone screams your name.

“See? As I told you.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, “fine, you win this round.”

“___!” Jungkook is screaming.

“I’m here!” you call out, hurrying out of the sitting room.  

“___!” his voice is breaking at the end.

“Kook! I’m here!” you tell him, making it easier for him to find you by running to where he calls out from.

You collide with him on the hallway.

“___”, he presses out with tears streaming down his face.

“Jungkook holy fuck, what’s wrong?”

“___ we captured Namjoon.”

“What? You captured him? Holy shit, Jungkook this is awesome”, you laugh, falling around his neck.

Jungkook sobs, squeezing you so tightly that you can barely breathe.

“Kook, careful your strength”, you warn him in a chuckle.

“___ I’m sorry”, he chokes out.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re all happy here. So where is he? Where are the others?”

“Oh god”, Jungkook presses out and sobs loudly next to you.

“Gosh Kook, stop crying you’ll make me cry too”, you say, wrapping your arm around his waist.

That is when it happens. Namjoon sets foot into the estate, guided by Hoseok and Seokjin and with the Unbreakable Shackles around his wrists. The guys are covered in the remnants of the fight, carrying a grim expression on their face. Namjoon lifts his head and locks eyes with you and Jimin. His lips curl into a menacing smile.

He laughs.

He laughs loudly and happily and as if he won.

“What the fuck?” you say, eyeing him with shock.

“Fuck yes. I knew you fucking pigs weren’t dead”, Namjoon says and laughs louder, throwing his head back, “oh life’s fucking great. I’m going to rip you to shreds, Park Jimin.”

Jimin is hiding behind you and Jungkook, entire body trembling in fear. He is even grabbing a piece of your jumper, twisting it with shaking fingers.

“Stop hiding, little piglet. Oh, I’m going to fucking hurt you”, he growls.

Jimin whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shut up, you cunt”, you spit, making yourself bigger in front of him. Namjoon’s black eyes flit to you.

He growls demonically, “come here little one, if you’re brave enough. Nobody’s going to protect you now”, he challenges you, snapping at you with bared fangs.

“What the hell is his problem?” you murmur, cocking your eyebrow up in judgement.

“___, I’m so sorry”, Jungkook presses out, whimpering painfully.

It only makes Namjoon laugh harder.

“Shut the fuck up”, Hoseok hisses, pushing Namjoon roughly “fuck, you’re giving me a headache.”

They pass by you. Namjoon rips himself free of Hoseok’s grasp, jumping at you instantly. Not that he can actually reach you, Seokjin catches him by his hair before he can, tugging him back roughly. But Namjoon fights him, he fights him to the point that all the tugging on his hair contorts his face into a grimace of distorted sanity. He is dripping black saliva from his sharp fangs, staring at you with obsidian eyes.

“You lost”, he growls and laughs, “you fucking lost.”

“Tzt”, you scoff, “says the one who is currently rendered useless. Look around you Namjoon, you are the one who lost.”

“Hah!” Namjoon exclaims loudly and laughs.

The sound of it twists your stomach in disgusted fear.

“Shut up”, Seokjin hisses, finally managing to tug him away, “walk. Asshole.”

“I may be useless right now!” Namjoon screams, “but you are the one who lost everything! I fucking won!”

“He’s crazy”, you murmur, turning to Jungkook, “what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“___ he-”, Jungkook whimpers, “cursed wood.”

“What?”

“He keeps healing and, and not healing. And- oh god.”

“What do you mean?”

Taehyung and Emma stumble into the estate and in their middle Yoongi is fighting and writhing in their arms. His skin is grey and in his mouth a cloth is stuck so he wouldn’t bite his own teeth out.

“Yoongi?” you gasp, running to his side, “holy fuck, what happened?”

“___, he had cursed wood. Namjoon he, he knew that we were coming. He, he had cursed wood grinded up and hit Yoongi with it. And, and he i-inhaled it an-and it’s, it’s- oh god”, Jungkook can’t finish his sentence as sobs rip through him.

“What?”

“Argh!” Yoongi screams up and fights himself free from Taehyung’ and Emma’s grasps. He falls to the ground, convulsing painfully. The cloth falls out of his mouth.

Yoongi screams. He screams like you have never heard a man scream before. Black blood gushes from his mouth and nose, muffling his screams all while he is choking on them.

“Yoongi?” you press out, “holy fuck, what is happening? Yoongi?”

The blood is streaming out of his eyes as well, turning his vision dark. His screams become muffled by the blood, his fingers reach for you.

“Oh god, it’s okay. Hey, it’s okay. I’m here”, you promise him and hold his hand.

Yoongi shatters it. He didn’t want it to happen, but he is in too much pain to have control. It hurts like you have never ached before and yet you can’t let go. You squeeze him right back, crying under the pain and the worry.

“Make it stop”, he begs and coughs for air, “it hurts, please”, he begs, convulsing again and again and again until the convulsing stops.

His hands stops squeezing you, his body stops twitching.

“Yoongi?”

You touch his face.

“Yoongi? Hey, Yoongi?”

You shake him.

“Yoongi?”

You shake him again.

“My love?”

The panic twists your stomach.

“Yoongi, wake up please. Please wake up.”

His hand slips out of your grasp.

“Yoongi! Please wake up! Yoongi! Please! Why aren’t you waking up?! Yoongi!”

[yslkook]

TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

[emmyhem]

always (l.r.h)

a/n: hi everyone! this is a lil angsty piece i wanted to get up. i just want to say again how sorry i am for not getting anything up for the past two weeks, i’ve just been overwhelmed with some stuff for my classes, but i am starting to get back in the swing of things now. also, this is unedited as i was rushing to get it up in time. i do plan on posting something else tomorrow night and hopefully i’ll be posting pretty consistently from now on. also this does end kind of abruptly but i wanted to leave it like that because i’m a sucker for angst, with that being said i would be happy to write a part two if that’s something you’d be interested in. anyway, feedback and comments are appreciated as always and i hope you’re all having an amazing day/night. enjoy! - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: luke recounts his mistake and hopes he can patch things up with his always. 

warnings:  very brief mention of sex, cursing, mentions of alcohol, luke’s being an asshole, mention of pinching (idk), slight insecurity from the reader, lots of angst :( 

word count: 2.6k

Luke had always hated the quiet. That’s when his thoughts were the loudest. That must be why he had never really liked being alone with himself. 

Tonight in particular, his thoughts were practically screaming, one word over and over again. 

“Y/n”

For the past two years that name had acted as his most favorite word, one that he would utter whenever he had gotten the chance. Whether it be to brag about your recent accomplishments to his friends, to catch your attention from another room, or falling from his lips with a sigh of pleasure as he reached completion with you laying breathlessly beneath him. 

Now the word seemed torturous, the last time he uttered it replaying on a relentless loop in his head. 

It was your 2nd anniversary. Dinner had been laid out on the table for an hour. Two glasses of wine sat untouched in front of a vase of roses you had picked out at the florist earlier that morning, and there was no sign of Luke. 

You were wracking through your brain as you watched a petal fall from a rose and land lightly in one of the glasses. 

Had you gotten the time wrong? 

But you were sure that the two of you had agreed on 8:00 for dinner, that way you had time to get everything ready after getting home from work, and Luke wouldn’t have to rush to leave the studio. 

Yet somehow you found yourself staring at the now cold dinner at 9:30, with absolutely no word from Luke. You wanted to call, if for no other reason than to check he was still alive and breathing, but your nerves stopped you from doing that, not wanting to take on the role of the overbearing girlfriend. 

Your stomach growled hungrily over the light music that was playing through the house speakers. So, begrudgingly you took a bite of the pasta on your plate before downing your entire glass of wine. 

Luke arrived home about 2 hours later, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. He caught sight of the table, with one setting completely untouched as he hung up his coat, causing guilt to pang in his chest. 

“Baby,” he called out, carrying himself to your shared bedroom.

When no response came his heart rate sped up in fear that you had left. 

“Y/n” he called, louder this time with a sense of urgency clear in his voice.  

That’s when he spotted a person sized lump underneath the duvet. Releasing a sigh of relief he moved towards you, peeling the blankets off and leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

This caused you to stir a bit, eyes fluttering open to meet him. 

“Hi, my love.” he cooed. 

A frown was prominent on your face, and a crease separated your eyebrows as they furrowed angrily. 

“I’m sorry I’m late. We got a bit carried away in the studio, but in good news the album is coming along great. M’so excited for you to hear it” 

You had always tried to be understanding of Luke’s job for many reasons. One being that you both reaped the benefit of his success, you wanted for essentially nothing, had a nice house, the opportunity to travel, and Luke often spoiled you with gifts even if you asked him not to. Another being how happy it made your boyfriend. Music truly was his passion, and he was so talented that you wouldn’t want for him to ever put his work on the back burner for you. 

With that being said, you made a point to take time off to spend time with him whenever you were able to. You had even changed jobs because your last one hadn’t allowed you to go on tour with him, which he had been adamant about, insisting, “There’s no way I can be away from you for that long.” 

And you were happy to do all of those things, because you were in love, and  you felt incredibly lucky to even be a part of his world. But you did start to question things as your relationship went on. It felt like Luke didn’t even consider your job. He only saw it as something that took you away from him. 

You had worked hard to get where you were in the occupational field. Without your job all you would have to do is sit around and wait for Luke to be ready for you, and you just couldn’t live like that. 

Luke turned on the lamp on your nightstand as you slowly sat up in bed. 

“2 weeks Luke, we’ve had these plans for two weeks.” 

“I know baby I tried, but you know how it is when inspiration strikes.” he dismissed while sitting the flowers on the ground. 

“No, I don’t. Do you not think that I have things I could be doing for work? Cause I do, and I choose this over all of that.” you huffed in frustration. 

Luke took a deep breath while subtly rolling his eyes. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry for missing dinner, but you don’t understand the pressure I’m under, from the fans, the label, management, and the band.” 

“I know that you work hard and I know how important this is to you, and I’m so proud of you, but I’m proud of us too and I would’ve liked to have a night for just us.” you tried to explain. “Not to mention the fact that I’m under pressure in my job too and I always find time for you, no matter what.” 

“Yea, you have pressure from a job that you don’t need.” his voice rising in anger with each word as he paced around the room. 

“How many times do I have to tell you Luke? It’s my job, it’s a part of my life and I don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon.” you shouted. 

“Great.” he replied sarcastically. “Then you should understand that I won’t give up my job anytime soon.” 

“I’m not asking you to, I’m just asking for a bit of consideration, and just a sliver of your time.” 

“I’m working to make us more money.” he stated.

“Luke, we don’t need any more money. You should be working because you enjoy it and because it’s your passion.”

He let out a condescending laugh before turning to look in your eyes. 

“Yea, well you don’t seem to mind all the money when you're sitting at home in the house that I bought, and leeching off of my bank account on the daily. D’ya think you could afford all the shit you have just based on your salary?” he spat crudely. 

You physically leaned back as if the words had just actually been thrown at you. They must’ve, because the pain they caused felt far too real to just be emotional. You opened your mouth to fight back, to scream, to do something but the lump in your throat prevented anything to come out other than a sad, and pathetic squeak. 

Was that what he thought about you? 

This had caught you completely off guard. Sure, you were expecting an argument, you’d even say you were expecting a big one, but you would’ve never guessed he would throw this in your face. 

You felt betrayed. It had always made you insecure that you were making such little money compared to your boyfriend. 

Some days after receiving your paycheck you would go out and spend it all on Luke, solely because you wanted to know that you could contribute too. You would do that whenever you got the chance, to reassure that your work was important, and valid. And mainly to show Luke that you appreciated all he did for you. 

He would always reply, “You don’t have to do this, love. I like spoiling my girl.” 

Yeah right. 

“I wasn’t, I m-mean I don’t try to lee-,” you paused, the word feeling too gross to repeat back. 

“Well, you do whether you're trying or not so the least you can do is give me a break occasionally.” he spoke casually, while changing into sweats as if he wasn’t ripping you apart with every word. 

You kept a blank stare at the bedroom door, your eyes already stinging with unshed tears. You wished you could be angrier but his words left you questioning and feeling guilty. 

As hard as you’d tried to provide for yourself and make your own way you couldn’t help but wonder if you had subconsciously started leaning on him, more than you had ever wanted. 

Luke continued getting ready for bed, not taking a second look at you since hitting you with his harsh words. 

“I-I’m sorry.” you croaked. 

“It’s fine, Y/n I just wish you could’ve been slightly more understanding.” he continued, still not facing you. 

“I think that maybe, I mean, um I gotta go.” you were speaking through tears, as you abruptly stood from the bed and hurried to leave the room. 

This caught Luke’s attention causing him to spin in your direction at lightning speed, finally taking in your emotional state.

“Going? Going where? I-what are you talking about?” 

You didn’t reply, grabbing your keys, bag, and shoes as you continued to speed to the front door. 

“Y/n!” he continued, following closely behind you. 

You paused at the front door and turned to meet his eyes. His stressed appearance subsided as you allowed him the opportunity to talk. 

“You’re upset.” he concluded, reaching a hand out to hold your cheek.

You leaned away from his touch and shook your head lightly, “M’not.” 

His features softened and he took another step closer to you, “You are. I’m sorry, I was harsh.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“Didn’t know?” 

“I don’t want t-to leech” you stuttered out. 

This rendered Luke speechless, realizing how cruel his words had been. You had taken this as an opportunity to exit the house, quickly running to your car. Luke made it to the driveway just in time to see you drive away. 

“Fuck” he snapped, jogging back towards the house to get his phone and call you in hopes of convincing you to come back. 

After calling you at least 20 times with no response he conceded and decided he should try and get some sleep, that way he was rested enough to get you to forgive him in the morning. 

His body fell naturally to his side of the bed, but his eyes lingered on where you typically laid. 

Rolling onto his back, eyes finding the ceiling he muttered to himself, “I’m an idiot.” 

Eventually he was tiring out, the bedroom ceiling growing extremely boring after staring for so long. He turned on his side to hug your pillow to his chest. As his hand slid under the pillow it came into contact with an envelope that had been hidden underneath. 

He sat up and flicked on a lamp to read the front, “To my Lu” 

He could tell that you had taken your time penciling on your words, each letter was flawless and written delicately. Before ripping it open he hesitated, questioning whether or not he even deserved to see what was inside after the way he spoke to you. The selfish part of his brain won for the second time that night. 

The first thing he saw after opening was two airline tickets situated just in front of a folded piece of notebook paper. 

He held his breath as he brought them into the light, two roundtrip business tickets to Sydney. 

He rushed to read the note you had left with them, unfolding it quickly. 

“Lu, 

Happy two years, my love. I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to call you mine for this long. Not a day goes by where I’m not in complete and utter awe of you and everything you do for me. I know how hard you work and how much you miss home and your family while you continue to grow in your music, and in yourself everyday. I know these aren’t the best tickets you’ve ever had by any means or the most extravagant vacation you’ve taken, but I wanted to show you how much I love you and how much I know you deserve, and need a break. We have 2 weeks, we leave tomorrow. I’ve worked it all out with the guys and your label. I know this is just a small way to repay you for the way you’ve taken care of me and the way you’ve loved me so selflessly for so long but I hope it shows you just a sliver of how much I love you. 

Yours always, 

               Y/n” 

He traced the letters of your name repeatedly as he blinked back a few stinging tears, before falling asleep, the note clutched tightly to his chest. 

That was a week, and about 100 missed calls ago.

About two days after you left, your friend had called to let him know that you were safe and staying with her for the time being. It had slightly lessened his worry, but the guilt he felt grew exponentially each day he had no reason to say your name.

He had claimed your side of the bed as his own in hopes that it would bring you closer to him. When he had finally dragged himself out of bed to shower he used your body wash and as embarrassing as it sounds nearly cried when the room was flooded with the familiar rose scented steam. And tonight while scouring through the liquor cabinet and feeling completely sorry for himself he had come across a bottle of tequila that you had purchased on your most recent vacation. 

Luke had put a serious dent in it by the time he was done scrolling through all of his pictures of you, and his finger began to itch with the need to call you. 

Through blurry and clouded eyes he located your contact, a breath hitching in his throat when he clicked the call button. 

With each unanswered ring he pinched his wrist, willing himself to wake up and discover this was all just some horrible nightmare, that he would just roll over and see you curled up next to him, warm, and sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect. 

“You’ve reached y/n. Sorry I can’t get to the phone, leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thanks” 

But it’s not his nightmare that got him here, it’s his mistake. 

“Y/n,” he croaked, his voice hoarse and scratchy as he hasn’t used it much in the past couple of days. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his heart was pounding and his intoxication numbed him from the feeling of  the hot tears that streamed down his face as he continued. “M’selfish baby. I’m so selfish and I was talking out of my ass that night, of course you’re not leeching. That’s fucking ridiculous, you couldn’t be, I give you nothing compared to what you give me. I just don’t know how to admit I’m wrong and the money is bullshit, it doesn’t matter, we could both live without it.”  his chest felt tight as he took a large gulp of air. “I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby. I need you with me, and I want to fucking give you the world and I know you don’t need me to give it to you. I want to. I just-I want to give you everything, anything. You can have it all. It’s yours. I’m yours, alwa-”  his pleads were cut off by the dial tone. 

“Always.” he repeated, staring at the black screen. 

pt. 2

[goingmorry]

first of all, CONGRATULATIONS ON 400!!!! omg im so excited for you because you deserve it, all your writings are so good <33333 ily!!!! u are a gem 2 the op writing community<33 omg may i request to be blessed by aphrodite w sanji, corazon, or zoro? once again congratulations omgggg🥰🥰

Tags: first kiss, it’s just fluff lmao

Word Count: 827

Author's Note: Hello, love!!! 💖💖💖 You are the sweetest angel! You know I feel the same way about your works. 🥰 I chose Corazon because you’re my heart and you’re the only person who requested him and this boy NEEDS! ALL! THE! LOVE! By the way, I definitely did not rush to get this piece out as soon as possible because his birthday was yesterday.

You inhale the irresistible scents of rose and myrtle. With the goddess of love and beauty by your side, your beloved can’t help but be overwhelmed with feelings of passion and intense desire. Romantic love is, indeed, a force to be reckoned with.

Donquixote Rosinante prides himself as a man dedicated to his craft. His extensive military career speaks for itself, having specialized in undercover missions, covertly infiltrating enemy bases by assuming the role of a natural-born actor. It’s safe to say that he’s rehearsed the same series of lies multiple times before.

But for once, his years of training in the art of deception prove to be useless, and his ability to maintain composure shatters. All coherent thoughts are thrown out the window.

“You’re not exactly subtle, you know?” your voice rings unusually loud in his ears despite the bustling street noise in the background.

Unsure of how to respond, he doesn’t refute your statement, slowly blinking at you behind long eyelashes as he takes a drag of his cigarette ��� the flames nearly consuming the entirety of the roll. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s rendered speechless.

“I have this strange feeling that you’re trying your best not to kiss me,” you press on, your eyes flickering momentarily to his matte lips when he exhales a puff of smoke, “Am I wrong?”

He’s aware that he’s fighting a losing battle.

One that he’ll have to concede when he hears you utter your next words.

“Then,” a step forward from you, a longing look from him. The light in his cigarette snuffs out as it falls to the floor. There’s barely any space separating the two of you now.

Feathers fluttering in the cool breeze, the weight of his coat begins to feel heavy on his back. His warmth begins to mingle with yours, cocooning you in a protective embrace.

Rosinante’s overly conscious of the feel of your supple skin beneath his coarse fingertips – lost in the faint smell of perfume that reminds him of colorful wildflowers, blooming passionately in all directions, and blanketing meadows in brilliant hues of rainbow. He’s unaware of when it happens, but in the time you close the distance, his hands circle your lithe frame, and he’s holding your delicate body in his arms.

“What are you waiting for?”

As if turning off a switch, the incoherent mesh of strangers chattering about abruptly stops, replaced by clumsy hand movements and bizarre body language, their mouths opening and closing in muted silence. The repetitive shouts from street vendors advertising their goods and ushering in unsuspecting passersby to their stores completely dissipate into nothingness. Until, all that’s left is complete and utter–

Silence.

The kind of unnatural calmness that can only be triggered by his devil fruit powers.

He doesn’t do this to be considerate – far from it, in fact. His actions are motivated by selfish desire, to hear every shaky breath you take when he finally leans in to steal your lips, every gasp you release when he peppers your face in soft kisses – as light and tender as the cool breeze caressing your heated skin – every shudder that wracks your body when his touch lingers innocently over the smooth expanse of your neck.

So that your sole focus is on him.

Evidently, there’s a shift in the atmosphere: a kind of charged sensation that thrums your heart. You swear you can see the crackle of electricity in the surrounding air right before your bodies collide with each other. And then, before you get lost in his eyes – the color reminding you of fragile autumn leaves before they hit the ground – he takes the plunge, prompting you to follow suit.

When Rosinante touches you, it’s deliberately slow, from the way his hand trembles as he gently strokes your cheek, from the way he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, from the way your hushed laughters end in soft smiles.

It’s the kind of unconditional love that he’s always wanted, buried deep underneath the rough exterior that he’s carefully constructed for himself since his oath to the Marines – to be a soldier that’s dedicated to his own sense of justice, to not be a slave to the Absolute Justice propaganda that’s being perpetuated by his superiors. From his early childhood memories, it’s the kind of soothing love that his parents had, in the way they nurtured him and his older brother, days that have long since passed, yet the images remain fresh on his mind.

The feeling is magical.

He almost stops himself from thinking so.

Because if he voices this thought out loud, he knows you’ll tease him endlessly for it.

Rosinante has an active imagination because he can almost hear the unmistakable teasing lilt of your tone as you address him by his Commander rank, and his smile deepens at the fond memories you’ve shared over the years.

But why focus on the past when he knows you’re his future?

“However many years we have left in this world,” his voice wavers from emotion, but his eyes remain steady as they hold your own.

“I want to spend them all with you by my side.”

Blessed By The Gods - 400 Followers Milestone Event

tagging: @miraclecherryblossomsblog @neferyuy @tsunderedoctor @chloe-nanami @0o0ychan0o0 @athenatakami @mariegeoise @silentmajesticfox

[ohnopoe]

Hey, love your work! I was wondering if you could write a Frankie Morales one shot with prompt 33 from the kissing prompt list? Take all the time you need, and thanks! ❤️

Unexpected | Frankie Morales

Ship: Frankie Morales x Reader Prompt: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it. Word Count: 1k+ Warnings: Alcohol Author’s Note: Thank you so, so much! I jumped on this way quicker than I thought possible, it was just so darn cute!

This is part of my follower celebration! Click here for info!

If it hadn’t been for the liquor making your mind swim pleasantly, you might have been able to think of an excuse for your actions. An ex you wanted to make jealous, a bet from Pope, because you just knew Benny wouldn’t have your back on this one, maybe even sheer curiosity. But the drinks had been flowing readily for far too long now, stealing your thoughts and replacing them with that same lack of care about consequences that had brought you into this mess in the first place.

Your eyes widened in shock as the realisation kicked in, your lips still tingling from excitement at knowing the feel of his kiss as you finally pulled away.

It had been a heat of the moment thing, even though the thought had been plaguing your mind for far longer than you’d care to admit. For months now, you had wondered what it would be like to kiss the man of your dreams, the very same man who was, somewhat unfortunately, your best friend, and thus, ought to have been firmly off limits. For months you had woken from dreams of him, had lost yourself to your imagination, had craved him in ways that no friend ever should.

But then you had found yourself drinking, more than you ever did usually.

Will was never one for a large celebration when it came to his birthday, always preferring to simply find an out of the way bar and have a few drinks with friends. Well, a few was a relative term amongst the group. It wasn’t long until a few quiet beers became shots of tequila, quiet jokes turning into rowdy laughter as you all slipped into intoxication.

And there it was, that lingering question filling your mind as you watched the quietest of your group smiling softly, those perfectly pouted lips curving enticingly and dragging your attention away from the topic at hand.

You were on him before you had even considered your actions, leaning forward until you were precariously sat on the edge of your own seat, not giving a damn about the way it shifted under you as those lips drew you in.

They were all you could have imagined and more, soft and plush, with the mixture of beer, tequila and that one glass of whiskey Will had insisted upon mingled with something different, something smokey and smooth and utterly addictive. He didn’t move at first, the shock of you darting forward to kiss him rendering him utterly frozen as his brain failed to come up with an explanation for your actions. In fact, it wasn’t until you were pulling away that he so much as breathed, following your withdrawing kiss hesitantly, a breath away from you as his mind filled with questions.

And then you were staring at one another, shock filling both your features as the group hollered around you.

How could you explain yourself? How could you ever begin to apologise for throwing yourself at your best friend? How could anyone else ever compare to the heat of his kiss, even when he had done nothing to respond?

Fear and anguish plagued your intoxicated mind, your eyes wide and showing every emotion to an equally startled Frankie. But he was too lost in his own mind to truly take it in.

He could find no reason for the kiss, but, admittedly, he wasn’t looking very hard. No, he was lost in the sensation of your kiss, even now as you shifted back onto your chair, your mouth falling open in a failing attempt at an excuse for your behaviour.

“I-” your throat was too dry to finish the thought, half formed though it was. Clearing your throat and looking determinedly anywhere but at the shell-shocked features of Frankie, you glanced hopelessly at your empty glass, both cursing it and wishing it were full all at once.

“I-” you tried again, but this time you were cut off by his hand, feather light as it settled against your jean clad thigh, uncertain and timid.

He was trying to catch your gaze, trying to read your emotions as he had grown so good at doing over the years, but you couldn’t bare to meet his eyes for longer than a second before the heat of a blush filled your features.

What could you even say? I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to do it? I didn’t mean to give in to the aching desire I’ve felt for you for so long? I didn’t mean to ruin everything?

Nothing could ever begin to touch on how devastated you were at your own impulsive actions, nor the way your heart had swelled at the simplest touch of his lips against yours.

But then his hand was moving against your thigh, his thumb reassuring you with those gentle caresses you had tried desperately never to overthink in the past. His other hand reached up to take your cheek in hold, so careful, so reverent, that your eyes shut on instinct, your body instantly melting into his touch even as the fear remained within your mind.

You could feel the warm rush of air against your lips, his own heated breath anything but smooth as anxiety ran like a current between you.

And then his lips found yours once more.

It was slow, gentle, but determined. That same care that Frankie seemed to put into everything was found tenfold in the way his lips shifted over yours. You almost moaned as his tongue ran over your bottom lip slowly, asking in that timid fashion for permission to deepen the kiss. Eagerly, you gave way, leaning into him, your own hand finding its way into the mess of curls that sat at the back of his head, below that tatty cap he always wore.

You didn’t hear the low whistles from your friends, or the groan of “fucking finally!” from Pope. It was like a cliche moment in a film, the crowd around you fading into the background as you melted against the kiss of the man you had loved in secret for so long.

When he pulled away this time, he didn’t go far. His hold on your cheek keeping you with him, his gaze filled with wonder and affection, and not an ounce of the questions you had feared.

“I don’t know what caused that,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly as he spoke only to you. “But that needs to happen a whole lot more often.”

[thisentertaining]

Headcanon: Simon Fairchild is the OP of ‘Do You Love the Colors of the Sky’

(Takes Place in Season 2)

The Archivist: Statement of Hannah McKenzie, regarding an incident with a… blog post. Statement taken direct from subject. Statement begins.

Hannah: So, I guess I just… start?

The Archivist: Please.

Hannah: Alright. So, my parents have always complained that I spend too much time in front of my computer. It really used to annoy me, you know. Like, I’m a teenager, there are a lot worse things I could want to be doing, but are they glad that I’m not a- a partier or going out drinking or meeting strangers to hook up or something? No, it was always complaining about how much time I spent online. Its not like, its not like I have much else to do, you know? I don’t exactly have friends from school beating down my door to hang out with me.

I have a lot of mutuals though, er, people who follow my blog and who I follow back. So, I mean, I was really excited when Mum and Dad decided to go visit some friends in Scotland for a week in the middle of summer. I bough all kinds of snacks and frozen meals and drinks, and I planned to spend pretty much the whole week on my computer without the threat of a scolding over my head. And at first it was fine, I was scrolling through my Tumblr Dashboard eating crisps on my bed, when the post came up.

I thought it was weird, I usually have a pretty good memory for the blogs I follow, and I couldn’t remember following this one. I figured it it was just a bug, Tumblr being a hellsite and all. Er, that is to say, it’s notorious for being buggy. You know what buggy-

The Archivist: Yes, I am familiar with the term. I am not ancient.

Hannah: Right, sorry. So uh, it was weird, but not so weird that I was… concerned? The title of the post was ‘Do You Love The Color Of the Sky’. With poorly rendered sky blue letters on a white background. But when you scrolled down, the white faded to this gorgeous sky blue, and it stayed like that for what felt like forever, then it got clouds and stuck with that for a while, then it changed to the sunset, then nighttime, then deep space, then sunrise, then bright blue again, and the cycle started all over again. And again. And again. I have no clue how many cycles I sat through. I didn’t count them at first. And when I thought to, I got to 33 before I gave up. It felt kinda… silly, to count down when I didn’t know how many cycles there were, I wasn’t counting to the end. There didn’t seem to be an end.

Each ‘phase’ of the sky seemed to last forever before switching to the next. I remember thinking when the clouds started that my finger was going to get tired of scrolling. It did. I, uh, think I sprained the muscle actually, actually started bleeding from the friction. I didn’t know that was a thing that could actually happened. But no matter what happened, I could do nothing but watch, and scroll, stuck in the endless loop of the beautiful color of the sky. I didn’t look away from the computer once. I- I knew somehow that if I did, I would still see the colors of the sky.

I think that if I hadn’t spent so much on crisps I-I wouldn’t be here. Luckily, I was able to grab from my pile of snacks with one hand without looking away from the screen. I- I didn’t snap out of it until my parents got home, a full week later.

They were mad at first. Angry that I hadn’t returned their calls and texts. Apparently, my neighbor can see into my bedroom though, so they knew I was alive. They thought I was just avoiding them, but I wasn’t, something happened to me, I know it did. I- I asked them to bring me here so I could talk about it. I think that was what made them finally believe me. I-I’m not exactly the, uh, talking to strangers type. The fact that I was willing to come here, well I don’t know that they completely believe what happened to me, sometimes I barely believe it, but it convinced them that something really scared me. This, and me being willing to talk to a counselor helped.

Well, that and that I haven’t even touched my computer since.

Archivist: Statement Ends.

*Click*

*Click*

Archivist: Ms. McKenzie was more than willing to hand over her computer, much to the surprise of her parents. While no one on the team is particularly skilled with technology, Tim looked through her history. Unfortunately, this ‘Tumblr’ is a site that does not have a specific URL for blog posts unless they are clicked on, which Ms. McKenzie apparently did not do. Luckily, she apparently has installed an ad-blocker which keeps a record of the ads which it blocks. During the dates in question, she had received several advertisements from ‘Open Skydiving’ and ‘Pinnacle Aerospace’, both of which do not appear to typically have significant online presence. As an additional note, both of these companies are owned by the Fairchilds, who have appeared in several… similar statements. Unfortunately, I do not believe there is much follow up that we can conduct beyond that.

*Click*

*Click*

Archivist: Supplemental: Ms.McKenzie had indeed heard of our institute from one of the blog posts that I had posted, but I… couldn’t bring myself to ask her to help me unlock Gertrude’s laptop. I will just have to hope that it reaches someone else and wait for now. End supplemental.

[geraskier-hell]

Warmth

Small one shot set in this universe, but that can be read as a stand alone as well, written for @geraskiersmutprompts‘s prompt warmth.

Special thank you to @lankygeralt for going over this fic and being super kind and supportive of my writing <33

Jaskier tries to revive the last embers of the fire in their room with a fire iron, but the red sparkles that light up aren't enough to start the flame again.

"We're going to freeze to death tonight," he mutters with a final glance to their only source of warmth.

"I've slept in worse temperatures," Geralt replies. He has already slumped on the bed, lying on his stomach while he hugs the pillow. 

"We've been sleeping outside all week, now that we finally had some coin, I was hoping to sleep with a cosy fire to warm me up. Why did the owner of the inn have to finish all his wood tonight of all nights? I hope my fingers won't freeze off."

Jaskier admits defeat and moves away from the fireplace, hiding under the covers with his clothes still on.

"Stop exaggerating, your fingers won't freeze off," Geralt mumbles with his eyes closed.

"Wanna see?" Jaskier scoffs. He moves near Geralt and slides his hands under the witcher's shirt. Geralt hisses, whipping his head around to glare at him. "What did I tell you?" Jaskier grins with too much satisfaction.

Geralt clicks his tongue and turns his head again. "Stay on your side of the bed." 

"Nope," Jaskier replies and hugs Geralt from behind, caging him between his arms and legs.

"Jaskier," Geralt growls in a voice that is a mixture of annoyance and threatening.

"How about you think of a way to keep me warm?" Jaskier's words are playful, but behind them there is a subtle hint of arousal that Geralt picks up immediately. 

"You could have said it from the start."

After so many months spent travelling together during the day and fucking at night, there is no hesitation in Geralt's touch when he turns around and presses Jaskier on the mattress. Jaskier smirks against his lips before wrapping his arms around Geralt's neck and bringing him down for a kiss. That contact alone is enough to start a fire in his chest, warming him up from the inside, all the way up to his cheeks that turn crimson in a matter of seconds. 

Geralt nibbles his bottom lip, teasingly pulling it before rolling his tongue inside. His body pressed on Jaskier's is comforting and familiar, no matter how many times Jaskier feels it on himself, he keeps wanting more, keeps craving for the intimate touches they share at night. He has always been secretly yearning for it, even before coming clean about his real feelings, and now he can't get enough of it.

He forces Geralt to put more of his weight on him, hugging his middle while their tongues move together. Geralt grunts but complies, settling on him so that he's covering Jaskier's entire body with his own. Every inch of him is pressed on Jaskier, even his groin, slowly hardening as they kiss.

Jaskier hums in satisfaction and bucks his hips upwards to get some friction. Geralt smirks against his lips, fully aware of Jaskier's desire, but for the moment he simply moves his lips down his neck, kissing and softy biting the skin.

"Fuck," Jaskier moans when Geralt nibbles on his collar bones. 

"In due time," Geralt replies with another kiss.

Jaskier groans and closes his eyes as Geralt lifts the hem of his shirt. He hisses when the cold air hits his skin, but melts under Geralt's touch when his lover starts pressing his mouth on his stomach. His lips are warm and soft, hungry for him and possessive, leaving marks all over his chest. Jaskier can only squirm and moan under that insatiable mouth, biting and licking, setting Jaskier's body even more ablaze. 

With his lip caught between his teeth, Jaskier lets Geralt cover his chest in wet kisses until he moves away to retrieve the vial of oil in the bag at the feet of the bed. When he turns to look at him, a whine leaves Jaskier's throat. Geralt's eyes are black and full of desire, his pants tenting, and his lips red from all the kisses he has left on the bard.

"Hurry up," Jaskier finds himself begging.

Geralt just smirks and settles between Jaskier's legs again. He pushes Jaskier's trousers down, and the bard's cock bounces free, hard and ready for release.

"Always so eager," Geralt mumbles, tracing the length with his finger.

"Always for you," Jaskier purrs, biting back a hiss. 

Geralt's features morphe in satisfaction and want, capturing Jaskier's lips before coating his fingers with the oil. Jaskier bites his index finger while Geralt works him open, whining and pushing down on him, always more restless.

By now, the previous cold has completely melted away, replaced by a lustful fire that is consuming him from the inside. His face feels hot, and every part of his skin that Geralt is touching is a little bonfire that burns in the dark of the night. 

"Geralt," Jaskier whines again, cock leaking on his stomach.

Geralt thrusts his fingers inside again, drawing a moan out of Jaskier and then moves up to lick Jaskier's ear.

"Are you still cold?" he whispers in a voice that makes Jaskier's cock twitch.

"Yes, this isn’t enough," Jaskier pants, already struggling to keep his eyes open.

Geralt hums, pleased by the answer and removes his fingers from Jaskier's ass. He pulls his pants down just enough to free his cock that he coats in oil. Jaskier watches him with a watery mouth, hole twitching at the expected pleasure.

He doesn't have to wait for more than a few seconds as Geralt lines himself up and pushes inside. He is careful and slow, but his body is trembling for the effort of taking his time. Jaskier's hole stretches wider as it welcomes him, clenching around him almost unconsciously.

"Fuck," Geralt mutters, scrunching up his eyebrows.

He looks so far gone too, eyes burning with the same fire consuming Jaskier, a deep wanton running through both.

"Just move," Jaskier begs, and he doesn't have to ask twice.

Geralt stops only for a few seconds when he bottoms out, panting hard before starting to slowly fuck Jaskier. 

His thrusts are precise, meant to satisfy them both. He knows exactly where to hit to make Jaskier cry out his name, and it doesn’t take long for the bard to do so. He moans every time Geralt hits his prostate, pleasure rising inside him. He closes his eyes as he follows Geralt's movements, hips uncontrollably meeting Geralt's. He is an absolute mess already, lips parted and cock oozing precum. He slides his hands in Geralt's hair, tugging at it and getting a low growl as reward.

He smirks and does it again, and this time the result is even better. Geralt thrusts harder into him, pounding on his prostate so strongly that he feels himself already on the edge.

"Geralt, don't stop, please," he begs, his mind struggling to remember what words are.

Geralt immediately complies, panting hard on top of him. Jaskier opens his eyes only to be rendered speechless by the sight. He whines when he sees Geralt's blown wide pupils, a feral light in them that makes him feel wanted in the most honest of ways.

He pulls Geralt down for a kiss, tongues sloppily meeting and saliva drooling down his chin. Geralt rams into him again, and so close to the edge, Jaskier wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking himself.

"Geralt," he cries out again when their mouths part, and as his lover hits his prostate again, he comes with a high-pitched moan, cum spilling on him and Geralt.

His hole tightens and Geralt grunts, fucking him through his orgasm before thrusting hard inside him one last time and painting his insides with his hot cum, cock pulsating as his release washes over him.

Afterwards, Jaskier basks in the warmth covering him. He rubs Geralt's back and nuzzles his hair, loving the way the witcher snuggles closer. 

"Much better," he mumbles. 

"I agree," Geralt replies, burying his soft cock deeper inside Jaskier.

The bard whines, a shiver coursing through his body. "Aren't you going to move?"

"Gotta keep myself warm," Geralt replies in a sleepy voice.

Jaskier bites his bottom lip, cock twitching with need again.

He certainly isn't going to feel cold tonight.

[justjessame]

A Little Ass and A Lotta Sass Chapter 33:  Loosey Goosey?  Shower Time and the Quest to Make Negan See That Babies Don't Need Added Incentive to Be Assholes.

We woke up early with our little princess the next morning. While I sat at the table, giving her breakfast, Negan made the two of us ours. He was whistling as he cooked, and I was shaking my head at how completely carefree he looked and sounded. Mornings, without the distraction of reminding me how worthwhile being awake was, tended to drag by for me. But for my husband? It was like he hit reset and was raring to go.

He set my plate down in front of me as my little Pooh Bear finished hers. He held his hands out with a huge smile and took her from me. Letting me tuck into my meal as he took his time to coax a burp out of her tiny mouth and took care of her spit up like he’d been doing it all his life. Then after a bit of a cuddle, he lay her down in her bassinet, and she didn’t let out a peep of frustration.

Negan looked at me in surprise and I smiled around the bite I’d just taken. Told ya so, ran through my mind as he grabbed his own plate and joined me. He smiled at me as he started to eat and I felt a clench low in my belly. I knew that smile. I knew the darkening in his eyes. Fuck. He was VERY hungry, and I had no doubt that his breakfast wasn’t going to be nearly filling enough for him.

“We’ll head down to the infirmary after our shower.” Our shower? Dear fucking Lord. We hadn’t showered together since we brought our angel home. One stayed dry while the other showered with her, then we’d hand off. Fuck.

I glanced over at the bassinet, wondering if I could cock block my own husband with our infant daughter.

“We can give her a bath in the sink first.” Shit. He really could read my damn mind. “What’s wrong, baby girl, scared?”

More like horrified to find out what damage your little girl caused when she came clawing out of me. “Of course not,” I answered, pushing my plate away. “It’s just that, why rush? I mean, we almost ignite when we don’t give in.” I sounded off to myself. “Why get all hot and bothered before we get Dr. Carson’s OK?”

Negan studied me while he ate. And I worked damn hard to not fidget. When he took a drink, his plate finally completely cleared, he stood up and took our plates to the sink. Quiet. He was too fucking quiet. Then, without a word to me, he picked up the baby and crooked his finger to me as he walked back to our bathroom. I closed my eyes to steel myself and followed.

He didn’t speak as he handed her to me in the bathroom. He didn’t say a word as he gathered together her bathing stuff. He didn’t open his mouth while he filled the sink with warm water. He just glanced at me, holding our daughter and raised his eyebrow. Shit, I’d been standing there gaping. I undressed Jade, taking off her still clean diaper and walking closer to Negan. Together we washed our little one, making sure that she was clean and sweet smelling before he wrapped her in her towel and I grabbed the diaper and outfit we’d laid out for her. She was dried by Daddy, and then clothed by Mommy. And her tiny eyes were drooping by the time we finished. Fuck. What a traitor.

“I’m going to bring her bassinet in here, and then we’re taking our shower, Callie.” His voice took on that low darkness that did things to my body, and I felt like I was breathing heavy already.

It felt like my arms were empty of her weight and I was naked before I could add two plus two. And then he was pulling me into our shower, and the warm water was sliding down over me. “Open your eyes, princess.” I did as he tilted my face up to look into his. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” I doubted this. I still had plenty of padding left over from my pregnancy, and I was almost scared to even contemplate what my breasts looked like now that they were basically udders. I didn’t have a chance to voice my doubts because his mouth met mine and I sighed into the feeling.

We’d kissed since bringing Kiara home. Of course we had, but there was always a tint of exhaustion. A bit of a yawn shared between us, but this kiss? This kiss reminded me of all the ways we were combustible. I felt the fire build, running down my entire body and then I was flush against him. Our skin finally touches without a barrier, without our little one between us. And I couldn’t recall why I hadn’t wanted this, to be with him here, in our shower. Returning to our daily routine right now, with his mouth, his tongue reminding me that we were still partners. We were most definitely lovers.

I felt his hands, which had rested on my hips after pulling us tight together, start to tour my body. And then, as his fingers found their way between my legs, a flash reminded me exactly why I had fought against this. He felt me tense up and he pulled his mouth from mine with a question in his eyes. Shit.

How do you tell your husband, the love of your life, the man who you’d die to touch, that you were scared that his offspring may have completely ruined your fucking nether regions? And, if she had, you’d rather fucking die than him touch you and find out, and then the full on repulsion flash on his face and making you die inside?

“Callie, baby what’s wrong?” His voice was so fucking husky still, from his very fucking evident need that was trapped between us. “Sweetheart,” he tilted my head up when I looked down. “Tell me.”

Well, shit. I sighed, and felt tears come to my eyes. What the literal hell? Why the fuck was I so emotional right now? The demon spawn was out of me, so my hormones should be under my own fucking control now. And then it happened. I sobbed and spilled my guts.

Most people who know of, or even who’ve met Negan would assume he’s terrible with emotional and crying women. Well, not so. At least he wasn’t with me. He cradled my body against him as I fucking shared everything. Every fear, every worry. And he held me, listened as I unleashed a torrent of worry, and didn’t interrupt me once.

Once my verbal vomit was over, he was still holding me. He’d turned the water off and he pulled me out of the shower and wrapped me up in a towel. Donning one around his own waist, he scooped me into his arms and carried me back to our bed. Pushing the bassinet just outside the bathroom door. “Negan, you’re going to get the bed all wet,” I warned, when he placed me in the center.

“Do I look like I fucking care about the bed getting wet?” He’d joined me, curving into my side, as I normally did to him. “Why didn’t you tell me, Callie? When you first started worrying?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t want to think about it.” That was more than true. Who wants to imagine that the man they love would end up repulsed by their body after giving birth? No one. “I mean the doctor had to STITCH me up. Doesn’t that fucking scream it’s destroyed? How did her tiny little head rip me?” I rolled my eyes. “Not to mention that I’m fat. I’m still all bloated and gross, and I can’t even fucking believe that you’d WANT to see me naked.”

Negan’s fingers were tracing my face, like he was worshiping my skin. They were creeping down to the towel wrapped around me as his eyes locked on mine. “First of all, Callie, there’s no fucking way that any part of you has been rendered fucking hideous or un-fucking-sexy.” He bit his lip as his eyes roamed down over my towel covered body. “Every single damn inch of you is perfect.” I opened my mouth, but he silenced me with a look. “I mean it. This body,” he pulled open my towel and ran his hand down my length. “This fucking body gave me the greatest goddamn gift I never knew I wanted. It carried our baby, Callie. And you brought her into this fucking world.” He shook his head as though he was in awe of me. He lowered his head and nuzzled into my neck. “I love you, Callie. I love your body. And there’s no fucking way that that’s changed. It never will.”

And then he put actions to his words and used that mouth of his to prove it.

 We made it down to the infirmary after Negan had thoroughly educated me on just how much he still loved my body. Inch by inch of me. Kiara had to be fed again before we left, since her daddy had been a thorough teacher. And then we walked down together, outside of our apartment. I carried KJ. Negan carried Lucille. And we were flanked by two of the most badass looking fairy godmothers I’d ever seen.

The check up went well. I was healed, the stitches had done their job. And our little angel was perfect. As though we had any doubts about that. When we were finished, I was surprised when Negan announced he wanted to take a walk around the Sanctuary. I shrugged and was about to go back to our apartment with Laura. “Princess, I want US to take a walk around.” I wanted so badly to roll my eyes. Jesus, he wanted to show her off. Fucking braggart.

“You aren’t making them kneel to her, Negan.” I said, staring up into his face. “I mean it. The terrible fucking twos are going to be nightmarish enough, let’s not add to her douche baggery too soon, alright?”

I saw a pout cross his face. I fucking knew it. “Fine.” He gritted out. “I mean she’s MY daughter, and they’re MY people, but fine. I won’t have them kneel for her.” And I swear to Christ, I heard him mutter, “Yet.”

[youngjaelook]

Yes — Jackson Wang

author’s note — so i’m planning to make this a little drabble series lmao. also a huge shout-out to @fentitrbl she’s such a sweet person fr. thank you so much for being so nice and encouraging towards me! i hope u like it <33 #UNEDITED!

“Come Spring Day” found here! & “Starless Sky” drabble found here! 

summary  — You’re not sure if you’re ready to say yes after everything that’s happened between you and Jackson. 

warnings — slight angst, slight fluff, & implied smut

word count — 1.5K

The moment Jackson's finger twitched to open the blue, velvet box, you almost ran, purely out of fear. Yet somehow, your legs stood still and your eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the crystalline ring that stood under the soft glare of the pale moonlight.

You gulped.

Jackson was always shit at timing; there was this one time, in the middle of drilling himself inside of you, he gazed deeply into your eyes, and you braced yourself for whatever, sinful or perhaps romantic words that would roll off his tongue any moment now. But all you got was a "shit — I think I forgot to buy tissue paper this morning."

And moments like this definitely proved your earlier statement — Jackson Wang is shit at timing.

You couldn't manage to utter a single word rather than a shaky, incoherent "what?"

Jackson was oblivious to it all — the rapid pounding of your heart, your wide-eyed gaze and the trembling to your fingers. He had mistaken it all for happiness, relief probably? Though, it was none of those things. In fact, it was the opposite.

Had things been different these past months, you would have said yes in a heart beat. Now, though, you don't even know how to respond, while he's peering up at you with so much hope, so much love. You couldn't dare break his heart like this, yet you did so anyways.

Jackson beamed at you. "I said, will you marry me —"

"No,"

You didn't know what was more intimidating, Jackson's silence, or the look of disappointment behind those hazel eyes of his.

You reached out to explain, to justify yourself, but he had pulled away so quickly, you feared he might've gotten whiplash. "Don't be like this, Jackson. Let me explain —"

Jackson rarely ever glared at you, and so when his eyes turned to slights and his gaze burned holes into your face, you recoiled.

"Forget it," he snaps the box shut, and the pretty, dazzling ring is hidden underneath smooth, rich velvet. "Fuck! Do you know how embarrassing this is?" He rises from his kneeling position, and looms over you.

Jackson doesn't notice, but you do, you see the tears welling in his eyes and the sight nips at your heart strings. You felt like the villain.

"I just thought," he allows his tears to stream freely down his face. "I thought you loved me. And I thought that after everything that's happened before would only make us stronger. Guess I'm wrong, then." It doesn't take a lot to see that Jackson was beating himself up for your rejection.

He always did this; blaming himself for everything that didn't go his way.

You thought differently, though.

Taking matters into your own hands, quite literally, you stand up to grasp either side of his jaw in either of your hands. "This isn't your fault, I swear to you. Jackson, it's not that I don't love you, because I do — God, I fucking love you. I," you inhale sharply, pressing your forehead against his cheek, your rubicund lips so close to the skin of his jaw. "We just need to take things slow, alright? Please understand that, understand me."

Jackson's stubborn tendency shows, when he looks at you with defiance in his eyes, but then as his gaze finds your own, the look dims and then flickers away all at once.

His hand reaches up to caress the side of your face, despite the bitterness that lingers in his chest, and smiles softly at you. "You're not going to leave me again?" Sometimes you wonder if Jackson Wang is just playing dumb, or if he's actually oblivious to your constant heart eyes, lingering touches and soft pecks.

Either that, or you're just not very good at expressing your feelings for him.

You smile against the corner of his lips. "No, I won't."

Jackson doesn't need to lean forward to have his lips on yours, because you take initiative and kiss him first. His lips feels soft and velvety on your own, and it takes almost everything in you not to give in to your urge to push Jackson against the wet sand.

The waves roll against the shore and it only gets stronger as the moon inches up higher in the sky. You wonder why he had decided to propose here, why now?

You're pulling away from him, but not far enough for him not to feel your long, thick lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks, you smile softly. "How long have you been meaning to propose?"

Pulling you flushed against his chest, his hands resting on the small of your back as he sways with you in the breeze. "I had the ring even before we uh, broke up." You're stunned, and it's so painfully obvious in your face, and body language, prompting Jackson to dust soft pecks against the bottom of your jaw.

You suck in a deep breath. "Jackson, I —"

He shushes you instantly.

"Don't say anything else, please. Let's just head back to our hotel room." Jackson was still hurting from your rejection, and would much rather make love to you as a form of apology for rushing you. You can't seem to construct any words of your own, while Jackson's arms pull away from your torso, leaving you feeling exposed to the blowing wind.

You think he's going to desert you there, on the beach, with your maxi dress flailing in the breeze. But he takes you by the hand, leads you back to the room without uttering a single word.

The walk, or perhaps the march, back to your hotel room is full of tense silence, and it's gnawing at your heart. The guilt starts to settle in, when Jackson squeezes your hand gently and brings them up to his lips.

Once he has you in the safe haven of your hotel room, he's kissing down the exposed skin of your shoulders, up the junction between your collarbone and throat. His lips move in such a sensual, and slow manner, and it has you shuddering underneath his touch, getting you blitzed on his scent like he's your own brand of personal heroine.

He nips at a particular spot just below your jaw and it prompts you to groan his name in response. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmurs softly against your skin. "sorry for pressuring you, for hurting you before. I promise I'll do better, promise to be better."

Jackson renders you silent for a moment.

There is a silent battle you're fighting within you, and your heart, your poor heart, is caught in the crossfire. It screams in the midst of all the chaos, and confusion, screams for you to say yes! And you wonder if you should, though Jackson doesn't give you time to think, when he lays you on top of soft, cotton sheets.

He tugs at the flimsy material of your dress until he manages to lift it off of you. You're nearly bare underneath him and it makes you feel vulnerable, especially when his eyes are raking up and down your body as if he could see through you.

You assist him in prying off his pants, and shirt, so desperate for him to make love to you already.

And when he finally has you pinned down beneath him, his lips latching on to any skin he can find, he's pushing into you.

While you drown in euphoria, your mind goes back to thinking. You watch through heavy eyes as Jackson takes care of you, shows his love for you through such sinful actions.

Why wait, when you know this is who you want to be with for the rest of your life? You can't picture anyone else waiting for you at the end of a white aisle, or kissing you goodnight before you sleep. You can't picture anyone else growing old with you, or loving you the way you deserved to be love — you can see Jackson, and only him.

You see white flash before your eyes, and your chanting Jackson's name, telling him how much you love him, while he finishes himself off.

You slump against the, now disheveled, sheets and gasp for air.

Jackson, despite his aching muscles, walks to the bathroom to fetch a warm rag for you because he's made a mess of himself on you, and would rather not have you sleeping with the essence of his arousal dripping down your legs and stomach.

You shudder when Jackson runs the damp rag along the skin of your thighs, and tummy. And when all is done, he lays beside you, basking in the sweet scent of your skin. He holds you and whispers sweet nothings into your ear as the heaviness of your eyes start to grow. But before either of you can fall asleep, you lean in closer to him. “Yes,” is all you can say.

If Jackson hears you, he doesn’t stir nor does he make a noise.

But when you peer up at him through your lashes, you can make out his smile despite the dim lighting and you know, you just know that he’s heard you.

[melissagt]

I love ask many questions. Hehe. Good luck! Okay, there was too many, so choose wich one you want to answer please! ~ (all is a good answer too! :p) // for Raz: 3, 5, 7(because I know she is in a complicated situation before Kotfe), 8, 12 (bonus 13!), 15, 24 (and 21?) // Kira: (12 and 13 bonus!), 5, 23, 25, 27, 30 -it's very important. // Lelu: 13, 15, 18, 26, 28, 30, 33, 35 ~

Raz - 

3 - Do they fit in with their faction or were they sort of born into it? Hooboy…Raz does not fit in. As a youngling, she was proud to join the great Jedi Order. She became fast friends with an equally young Theron Shan. More like they were inseparable. But, her faith was shaken when she saw him abandoned like so much trash, all because he couldn’t move something with his mind. They remained close friends, however, and she had a front-row seat to the damage The Order (as well as Satele and Ngani Zho) wrought. It started there…and just kept on going, right up to her own capture and eventual return. She learned the hard way that the Jedi Order does not care about its people, only its image. 

Politically, she agrees with the ideals of the Republic and what it’s supposed to stand for, but she has seen the corruption firsthand, and has learned that once you scratch past the surface, the Republic is no better than the Empire. The only difference is that the Empire doesn’t try to hide it. That being said, she is loyal to her faction to a point. She’s more loyal to certain people in it rather than the entity as a whole. However, it was an easy decision for her to leave it behind for the Alliance, made even easier with Theron’s promise to help her find a cure for Scourge. 

5 - What planet do they now call home? Either where their stronghold is or where you headcanon they live at. I suppose it depends on what timeframe we’re referencing, but Raz does become a core member of the Alliance, and sits on the impromptu Council formed by the Commander. I would say her home is Odessen, for now. It remains to be seen where they will all go should Odessen fall. She stands by the Commander’s alliance with the Empire, and has spent time on Dromund Kaas in that capacity, something her husband, Scourge, enjoys. 

7 - Are they loyal to their faction? Between the answers above, I think that’s pretty much explained, haha. Scourge sums it up perfectly when he says that Raz is a Jedi with the heart of a Sith. Her place is in the Alliance, and the Alliance has chosen to ally with the Empire.

8 - How do they feel about the opposite faction? Raz never seemed to fear the idea of Sithy Bogey-Men, something her teachers never felt comfortable with. She was fascinated by the idea of learning about different ways to view the force, something she’d always questioned herself. And upon becoming a Knight, she met perfectly reasonable Sith…Sith who were nothing like what they were ‘supposed’ to be. Eventually her curiosity became respect. The Sith were equals…different…not to be hated or feared.

12 - Be honest, how many outfit tabs do they have? I think Raz might have five or six?

13 - Let’s see those outfits! Haha, throughout most of the class story, Raz rocked this one - 

But now she and Scourge rock matching Iokath sets - 

15 - Who is/are their least favorite companion(s)? Rusk…he seriously needs to pull that stick out of his bum bum. 

24 - If they could be part of another group, what would it be? You can choice from Old Republic, Expanded Universe, or Cinematic Universe. Honestly, I think she’s very happy with the Alliance. She finally found a home where she’s not looked down upon, or treated with open disdain and aggression just for thinking differently. She can be herself. She has her sister. She has her best friend. She has her husband. And she gets to work with other like-minded force users. Nah, she’s not going anywhere, lol. 

21 - Would they continue their legacy by having children? Adopt? Get an apprentice? I don’t think Raz is interested in having an apprentice (I HC that Kira Carsen is not her apprentice - that’s another one of my Knights). I mean, we could consider Theron a child, so there’s that adoption. I’m not sure children are in her future, but I think she and Scourge would make excellent parents if that were to come to pass and their biology clicked. I think it would be hilarious to give Scourge a force-blind daughter. *whistles innocently* (I have so many oc’s in the same universe that someone is bound to have offspring somewhere at some point…I just don’t know who.)

Kira - 

12 - Be honest, how many outfit tabs do they have? I think she might only have a few.

13 - Let’s see those outfits! Right now she’s using the Battle-Hardened Apprentice set (I think that’s what it’s called).

There’s really nothing that I’ve been able to find in-game that fits either Raz or Kira’s style. This render is pretty much how I’ve always envisioned them in terms of what they would wear for day-to-day exploration - 

5 - What planet do they now call home? Either where their stronghold is or where you headcanon they live at. Kira is comfortable on Odessen, but I think her true home will always be Dromund Kaas. The culture. The opera. The military. She is a Sith’s Sith. 

23 - Do they like their role in their current situation? ei: if they are a Sith do they like being in the Sith order? Kira loves being a Sith, is proud of it, and makes sure everybody knows it. She truly believes in the meritocracy and the concept of Survival of the Fittest. Though she chose to involve herself with the core founding of the Alliance, she is still Sith at heart, and will always be. I think if it wasn’t for Lelu, meaning if the Outlander were anybody else, she would have stayed with the Empire. I’m sure she’ll be very happy to return. 

25 - Do they have any deep dark secrets? I don’t know if it’s a big, bad secret, lol…but Kira has a weird phobia about getting blood in her mouth. It’s just odd considering her occupation. Seriously, it’s to the point where Pierce carries wet naps around in his kit so she can clean herself up as soon as possible if anything does get in the vicinity. 

There is a factoid? that she and Raz share…it’s not so much a secret because a few people do know…but it’s not like they advertise it…daddy. Yeah, you guys will find out who their father is. 

27 - Do they have any regrets? Everything and anything about a certain man by the name of Malavai Quinn. Part of her will always love him…but she just…can’t. (Please note that this in no way diminishes her feelings for Pierce.)

30 - Do they like to boogie? Do they dance to that good old cantina band? Kira does enjoy a good, laid-back dirty dance now and again, especially because that’s what Pierce enjoys…but in her heart, she’s more into formal stuff. Evening gowns and snobbery. Blow things up on the battlefield by day…Sith opera by night. 

Lelu - 

13 - Let’s see those outfits! Lelu also rocks the Iokath rep gear. 

But throughout the class story, she kept the base Inquisitor gear…because it is very nice. 

15 - Who is/are their least favorite companion(s)? Lelu really gets on with all of the Inquisitor crew. I don’t count Xalek because he’s there so late and there’s so little development. Out of the Alliance cast I’d have to say…hmmm…Kaliyo. She’s a liar. She’s unpredictable. She’s a loose cannon. And she looks at Theron like a piece of meat. Lelu only keeps her around because she is useful in certain situations, and isn’t afraid of getting the job done by whatever means necessary.

18 - Who is their BFF? Kira took Lelu under her wing when they were both on Korriban. I’m not sure why - they couldn’t have been more different, but without her help, Lelu probably wouldn’t have made it. They lost touch after Kira took apprenticeship with Baras, but after Yavin Four they were able to pick up their friendship where it left off. 

26 - Do they have any vices? Other than typical Sith Stuff such as lack of empathy and selfishness? Rough sex in general and lots of it (spanking, choking, biting). Swearing. Chocolate. Violence. Jealousy. Greed. Sith. Sith. Sith? :P 

28 - Have they done anything embarrassing? Does tumbling out of an elevator door into a crumpled pile of sex count? She’ll never let Nik forget that…not that he’d want to. 

30 - Do they like to boogie? Do they dance to that good old cantina band? Lelu loves to dance…the seedier the location, the better. 

33 - In KotFE which companion(s) from another class are you most looking forward to them recruiting? ScourgeScourgeScourgeScourge :)

35 - In KotFE what is their relationship with Valkorion? Lelu hates Valkorion. HATES. She knew what he was about from the moment he popped in there. It was a never a mystery as to his ultimate goal, and the more he tried to feign at playing nice, the more it infuriated her. He literally has -the- Perfect Vessel in terms of the Sith Inquisitor. A Force Walker. A body built to withstand it. And an ancient Sith Lord already in-house to use as fuel. That being said, she’s also the best possible candidate to deal with his ass. Not to mention what he did to Theron on Ziost. She was able to deal with it after everything she’d already been through…but Theron…

[sian265]

Broken Bond Chapter 19-A

Broken Bond

Chapter 19-A

  As they stepped through the portal, arriving at the room that changed Magnus’s and Alec’s lives, Magnus couldn’t help thinking it was suiting some how that his fate would once again be decided in this room. He just hoped the outcome was as favorable. He took Alexander’s hand as they stepped inside, and Magnus got the wind knocked out of him, for there in front of him stood the entire Lightwood family, even Robert, obviously waiting for them.

 Magnus couldn’t speak; it felt as though his heart was in his throat. He had not had a family to speak of, with the exception of Ragnor and Cat, since he had been a small boy. He didn’t know what to do with this, it was too much, and he felt too much. The family seemed to understand because they didn’t crowd him or even speak, just gave him gentle smiles and moved to the side to let him and Alec lead the way to their seats. Magnus stopped at the seats right behind he and Lydia’s table. He squeezed Alexander’s hand, before stepping in close.

 They rested their foreheads together; neither seemed to care about the eyes upon them, though in Magnus’s mind this wasn’t as bad as the kiss Alexander laid on him in this very room. He smiled to himself at where his mind was. Magnus felt his usual self confidence returning, and dare he say, he felt a little cocky. He was so going to win this! Pulling back just a bit, he smiled up at his worried Shadowhunter. He didn’t get a full smile back, but a whispered reminder. “No matter what happens here today, we walk back out that door together.” Magnus gave Alec a brief peck on the lips and a nod before he joined Lydia.

 Magnus gave the blonde a quick hug before taking his seat. He could feel Lorenzo’s glare as the other Warlock sat at the only other table in the room. Magnus ignored him. The room looked about the same as it did when he acted as Izzy’s advocate the only difference instead of one chair for the Inquisitor, there were three for the High Warlocks that would be rendering Magnus’s verdict. He knew all three of course one was his dearest friend in the world, Catarina Loss. Lorenzo had fought tooth and nail to get her disqualified but the other two high Warlocks overruled him, Cat’s reputation was enough to convince everyone else she could be impartial. The other was also a dear friend, Tessa Gray, though he had lost touch with her for over a decade. Tessa spent most of her time in the Spiral Labyrinth doing research. Magnus knew all three very well and trusted in their integrity. While he did not know the third, Marvin as well as the other two, he did know the Warlock was honorable.

 Magnus could hear others entering the room and finding seats, but he did not turn to see who all had come to see his judgment. He just wanted to get this over with and take Alexander home. A soft chime sounded, and Magnus felt a shiver of nerves hit him. The outcome had to be in his favor, if not, and Magnus did not want to even imagine this, but Alexander would walk away from everything, for Magnus. Just then he felt a strong hand, only belonging to one person, land on his shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze, he briefly reached up and covered that hand before turning his attention to the Warlocks entering the room.

 Marvin came first, his green tentacles drawing some noise from the Shadowhunters in the room who had never met him. Next came Tessa, her gray-blue eyes swept the room, emotionless except for a brief flash as they passed over Magnus. He knew that was her subtle way of greeting him, they had not been allowed any contact prior to today’s proceedings. Last to come out was Cat, and she wisely did not glance at Magnus, not wanting to set Lorenzo off again. The room was silent as the Warlocks took their seats, Tessa in the center and it was she who addressed the room.

 “I see that many of you in this room are not Warlocks, and as such, I believe it will be beneficial for me to explain some of what you will witness here today.” Tessa’s beautiful, calm voice carried over the room and every eye was on her, especially those Shadowhunters who knew anything of their history and the history of the Warlock addressing them.

 “The proceedings today will not resemble any other court proceedings you may be familiar with. For example, there will be no testimony as you may understand it. Instead we will recall memories, the three of us will examine those. There will be no cross-examination, instead witness’s may be recalled again and again to recall other memories or if we require a re-examination of those events. The advocated you see before you will only call witnesses and after they have presented all the individuals they wish to call upon, they may make a closing argument.”

 Tessa paused and turned quietly to confer with Cat and Marvin, before readdressing the room. “If both advocated are ready, we will begin.”

 Just as she finished, Lorenzo’s blowhard of an advocate stood up. Magnus didn’t know the Warlock well, by choice. He was just some high-priced hack from Manhattan who liked to over-charge for love spells and the like. Of course he objected! “Again, we would like to protest the inclusion of each of you in this matter. All three of you are friends of Magnus Bane’s and thus cannot be impartial!” He straightened what was no doubt his $3,000 suit before retaking his seat, Magnus rolled his eyes.

 Cat glared at Lorenzo’s table and Magnus just knew that she had run into this joker before and was out of patience. “Mr. Humphries, as you have been told before. One would be hard pressed to find any Warlock alive who does not know Magnus Bane and even fewer who he has not helped at one time or another. Now, enough of this nonsense, we shall proceed.” Cat sounded like she was scolding a child and Humphries flushed as laughter echoed around the room.

 Tessa waited while the laughter died down. She looked around the room, gaze solemn. “There are some facts in this case that have been verified by outside sources, such as the Clave.” The room was dead silent. “The Mother of all demons, Lilith, arose and possessed 33 mundanes and one Shadowhunter. These were not ordinary mundanes who would have gone unmissed in their world. One was a well respected pediatric nurse, the other a New York Police detective.”

 Magnus wondered who all confirmed and supplied information to them, Tessa seemed to want to stress the threat Lilith had posed. He was startled and he heard Alec’s breath catch behind him as Tessa continued.

 “The Shadowhunter, Jace Herondale, testified before this body before he departed and we examined his memories of this event.” Tessa paused and looked at first Lorenzo, then Magnus. “Let us begin with the first issue upon the table, the Lay Lines.”

 Lydia stood up. “Esteemed panel, we charge that High Warlock Rey falsely took credit for repairing the city’s lay lines when Lilith corrupted them.” Lydia’s voice and tone where the height of professionalism and Magnus could tell her respectful tone for the presiding Warlocks won her favor. “I call first for memory recall, Magnus Bane.”

 Magnus stood and moved to the chair seated facing the three Warlocks. Marvin rose and stepped down the dais, moving to Magnus, he faced him. “Do you, Magnus Bane, consent of your own free will to memory recall?”

 “I do,” Magnus felt the touch of Marvin’s magic, he did not resist it. He felt the magic sort through his memories, before finally settling on the party. He could not see the images that showed to the crowd, but he could hear the murmurings of amazement as the Shadowhunters in the room got to witness Warlock magic, some for the first time. Magnus was viewing the same thing in his mind, reliving the memory of the party, he could see himself looking down into his cocktail as the liquid began moving. He relived as the room began to shake, as Rufus opened the portal and it ate part of his arm. He experienced the terror as the portal spun out of control and headed straight for Alexander.

 He heard the shocked cries of the audience as they watched the runaway portal head straight for Alec, they also saw how their Head of Institute shielded a Warlock child, Madzie. They got to see Magnus, eyes unglamored as he dealt with the portal, protecting Alexander and Madzie. Magnus flinched; he had forgotten that the corruption at the part had revealed all their Warlock marks. He had not thought of the possibility that an audience full of people would get to see a Warlock’s most hidden trait. Magnus heard the whispers behind him as the vision came to an end, he did not move, not yet ready to face all those eyes.

 Magnus heard a voice he prized over all others, and a familiar word said with as much command as it did the day he almost lost that voice. “Enough! One more word and I will request that the Warlock panel clear the room!” Magnus felt a thrill instead of the dread that had gripped him, his Shadowhunter once more coming to his rescue, his aid. He got up and turned with renewed confidence to face the room, but he did not look into any eyes except a pair of hazel ones filled with love and understanding. Alexander stood, every inch the commanding officer. Once Magnus reached his seat, only then did Alec sit also. Magnus felt that presence behind him and knew he could handle the rest of what was to come.

 Tessa cleared her throat bringing the rooms attention back to her. Magnus noticed the soft look she shot Alec before addressing the proceeding once again. “The next statement has been agreed to by both parties and thus no memory recall of the event need to be seen. Lorenzo Rey acknowledges that he went to Magnus Bane’s home the next day and accused him of corrupting the lay lines underneath his home.” Both Magnus and Lorenzo nodded. Tessa looked apologetically at Magnus, and he knew what was coming. Were all his secrets to be revealed?

 Tessa cleared her throat. “According to his statement, Lorenzo Rey felt that the dark forces that corrupted the lay line were of a particular demonic signature and that Magnus Bane having a connection to that signature was to blame for the corruption.”

 Lorenzo’s attorney shot to his feet, interrupting Tessa. “We have still not seen any proof that Magnus Bane’s demonic sire did not have a role to play in this matter!”

 Cat’s voice rang out, the tone hard, and ice cold. “Mr. Humphries! May I remind you that all Warlocks have a demon sire, including you sir! Or had you forgotten?” The last bit was said with more than a touch of mockery, Cat dug a little deeper. “It is hardly the Warlock’s fault that some demon sires are more powerful than others, right?” Humphries and Rey both flushed, and Magnus fought back a laugh. The rest of the Shadowhunter audience didn’t seem to understand and Magnus was glad of that. He had enough of his secrets revealed.

 Tessa ignored the drama from Rey’s table. “Mr. Lightwood, if you would?” Magnus watched as Alexander took the seat. Once Alec settled, it was Cat who asked before proceeding. “Mr. Lightwood, you agree to memory recall?” Alec’s “I do,” was firm. The scene this time was of Alec’s and Magnus’s visit to Rey’s home, under pretense. Tessa shushed Rey’s outrage. The Shadowhunters in room laughed as their Head revealed a surprising interest in ceramics, and Magnus could see the back of Alec’s neck turn red. After that, Alec was allowed back in his seat, he shot Magnus a brief smile before moving to his seat behind him.

 Magnus was called once again and after his memories of the lay line corruption were examined, Lydia called a surprising witness, Raj. The Shadowhunter came forward reluctantly and took the chair. When asked if he consented to the proceedings, he grumbled but acknowledged his willingness. Alec and Magnus’s plan to fix the lay lines was revealed, and as the scene played out grumblings could be heard from the Warlocks in the room. Lorenzo turned paler as the events were revealed. The Warlocks in the room quickly realized that their High Warlock had lied to them, and that the Shadowhunters had risked much to protect them from Lilith. Magnus was in awe of Lydia’s strategy, she had played Lorenzo beautifully!

 After Raj left the stand, Tessa called for a lunch break, for which Magnus was very grateful. Magnus approached Raj. “My dear Raj, I cannot thank you enough for your assistance today, seems your time away did you some good.” Magnus heard Alec cough/laugh into his hand. Lydia just grinned, smile growing as Raj glowered at them.

 “I only agreed to do this because Lydia threatened to remove body parts if I didn’t!” Raj growled at them before storming away.

 Magnus laughed and taking Lydia’s hand, placed a gentle kiss upon it. “My dear, you are a true treasure.” Lydia just smiled and patting Magnus on the arm moved away to give him and Alec some privacy.

 Alexander stepped in close. “I asked mom to set up some lunch for me and you in my office. The rest of the family is going to run out and get something.”

 “Thank you, Alexander.” Magnus looked up into Alec’s eyes. “If you want to eat with your family?” Magnus trailed off at Alec’s negative head shake.

 “No, I just want to be with you, some place with a little quiet.” Alec still looked a little too stressed for Magnus’s liking, so he nodded in agreement. A little peace did sound nice.

 They weren’t interrupted and they closed the door to the outside world. Magnus didn’t realize how hungry he was until they sat down to fresh fruit and sandwiches. They ate in silence, it was comfortable silence and Magnus felt recharged with just Alec’s presence beside him. He could tell the other man needed the space as well, and he was grateful he could see him relax. They spent the hour just sitting together, each keeping the conversation light and for the most part brief. Finally it was time to return. Magnus stopped at the office door and turned to Alec. “Remember no matter what, I am not going anywhere.”

 Alexander gave him a brief hard kiss. “Damn right you’re not.”

  TBC…

[pamphletstoinspire]

The Church's Year - INSTRUCTION ON THE FEAST OF THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS

ORIGIN OF THIS FESTIVAL

After many devout souls had venerated the Sacred Heart of Jesus, with sincere devotion, in the solitude of quiet life, as is seen in the lives of SS..Augustine, Bernard, Bonaventura, Thomas of Aquin, Francis de Sales, Ignatius, Clara, Gertrude, Mechtild, Catharine of Sienna, Theresa, and others, our divine Saviour willed that His heart's infinite love should be recognized by all men, and be kindled in cold hearts by a new fire of love. For this end He made use of a feeble, obscure instrument, that all the world might know that the devotion to His loving heart; previously almost entirely unknown, was His own work. This instrument, disregarded by the world, was one who shone before God in all 'the radiance of the most sublime virtues; the nun Margaret Alacoque of the order of the Visitation of Mary, at Paray, in Burgundy. In the year 1675, whilst she was one day in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament; our Lord appeared to her, and pointing to His heart which He showed to her, surrounded with flames, surmounted by the cross, encircled with a crown of thorns, and pierced with a gaping wound, He said to her: "Behold this heart, which has loved mankind so much, and which receives only ingratitude and coldness in return for its love. My desire is that you should make reparation to my heart for this ingratitude, and induce others also to make reparation." Our Lord then designated the Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christi as the special day for this duty. In several subsequent apparitions our divine Lord repeated this injunction, and made the most unbounded promises in favor' of all who would apply themselves to this office of reparation to His Sacred Heart. The following are some of His promises;

I will give them all the graces necessary for their state of life.

I will establish peace in their families.

I will console them in all their pains and trials.

I will be their assured refuge in life, and especially in death.

I will shed abundant blessings upon all their undertakings.

Sinners shall find in my Heart an infinite ocean of mercy.

Lukewarm souls will be rendered fervent.

Fervent souls shall rise rapidly to greater perfection.

I will bless those houses where the image of my heart shall be exposed and honored.

I will give to priests the gift of moving the hardest hearts.

Persons who propagate this devotion,. shall have their names inscribed on my heart, never to be effaced from it.

Margaret obeyed, but found everywhere the greatest opposition, actual sneers and persecution, even from her Sisters in religion, until finally, with the aid of her divine spouse, she succeeded as mistress of novices, in bringing her young charges to the veneration of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. But this did not content her zeal; although opposition continued, she strove to fulfil the command of Jesus, who assisted her by at last changing the hardened hearts of the nuns and inflaming them with the same love of His Sacred Heart. This devotion soon spread from the convent throughout the adjoining dioceses, where confraternities in honor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus arose, and Pope Clement, XIII., after causing the strictest investigation to be made, commanded the Festival of the Sacred Heart of Jesus to be observed throughout the Catholic Church on the first Friday after the octave of Corpus Christi.

ON DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS

I. OBJECT OF THIS DEVOTION

By the Sacred Heart of Jesus must be understood not the lifeless heart, separated from the body of Christ, but the tender, loving heart of the God-Man, the home of all His emotions, the fountain of all His virtues, and the most touching embodiment of His infinite love for man. The Catholic Church, in like manner, sets apart certain festivals with appropriate Mass and office, in honor of the cross, of our Lord's sacred blood and wounds that our devotion to the Redeemer may be rendered more fervent by the contemplation of these objects, for Jesus has shed His blood for us, has received wounds for us which He retained even after His resurrection, as eternal signs of His immense love for man, has taken them with Him to heaven, and will show them to us on the judgment Day. How much more should our Saviour's Sacred Heart be the object of our devotion, since all the thoughts, sentiments, and emotions of this most loving heart aim only at our salvation, and since it is always ready to receive truly penitent sinners to forgive them, again to turn His love to them, and make them sharers in eternal bliss.

Therefore the saints have from the first encouraged a tender devotion to this most Sacred Heart, as already mentioned. "Longinus," says St. Augustine, "opened the side of Jesus with His spear; in it I enter, and securely rest." "O how good," exclaims St. Bernard, "how lovely to take up my abode in this Heart! In this temple, in this sanctuary, before this ark of the covenant, I will adore and praise the name of the Lord, and say with the prophet: I have found in the heart of Jesus, my king, my brother, my friend." "Believe me, O blinded men," says St. Bonaventura, "if you knew how to enter by His sacred wounds into the interior of Jesus, you would there find not, only a wonderful sweetness for your soul, but even sweet repose for your body. And if even the body there finds rest, how great, think you, must be the sweetness which the spirit there enjoys, if through these wounds we become united to the Sacred Heart of Jesus!" And St. Peter Damian says: "In this adorable heart we find the weapons with which to defend ourselves against our enemies, a cure for our ills, powerful help against temptations, the sweetest consolation is suffering, and the purest joy in this valley of tears."

St. Mechtild and St. Gertrude found themselves transported in an especial manner by the tenderness of this adorable heart, to adore it fervently, and Gertrude, enlightened by the Spirit of God, spoke these prophetic words: "The Lord retained until these late centuries the devotion to His Sacred Heart, as a last effort of His divine love." We have already seen how these words have been verified in the pious Margaret. O would that Jesus' great desire that all men, might know and love His Sacred Heart be accomplished!

II. EXCELLENCE OF THIS DEVOTION

It is, says the venerable P. Simon Gourdan:

The most sacred devotion, for by it man venerates the holiest sentiments and emotions of the Heart of Jesus, by which He has sanctified the Church, glorified His Heavenly Father, and presented Himself to us as the perfect model of the most exalted sanctity.

The oldest devotion of the holy Church, which, instructed by the great St. Paul, has at all times recognized the munificence of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The most approved devotion, for the holy Scriptures everywhere exhort us to renew our heart by changing our lives, rendering them contrite by true penance, inflaming them with the fire of divine love, and adorning them by the exercise of all virtue. Therefore a new heart is promised on which to remodel our Heart. That Heart can be no other than the Heart of Jesus, which is given us as an example of all virtue, and which we must imitate if we wish to be saved.

The most perfect devotion, for it is the: source of all other devotions; the Heart of Jesus is that inexhaustible treasury from which the Mother of God and all the saints have drawn their graces, their life, their virtues, and all spiritual blessings. Filled from this treasury, other servants of God have instituted different devotions.

The most useful devotion, for in it we have the Fountain of Life itself before our eyes, from which we can draw directly, and increase in all virtue by adoring this divine Heart, meditating on its holy desires, and seeking to imitate it.

The devotion most pleasing to Christ, for by it we honor God, as Christ requires, in spirit and in truth, because we adore the interior power of God, seeking to please His heart.

Finally; the most necessary devotion, for its object is that we become intimately connected as members with Jesus, our Head, that we live by and according to His spirit, and have only one heart and soul with Christ.

Because this devotion is of such importance, we cannot sufficiently recommend it to all who are anxious for their soul's salvation. Every person may cherish this devotion, and venerate the Heart of Jesus by himself, but there is a greater blessing when pious souls make the devotion in a confraternity. In the year 1726 there existed more than three hundred such confraternities, and they are now spread throughout all Catholic countries. Do not delay then, O Christian soul, to practise this devotion, uniting with others . to honor the divine Heart of Jesus, because in this most Blessed Heart all men find their reconciliation, the pious their assurance, sinners their hope, the oppressed their comfort, the sick their relief, those who are fighting their strength, the dying their refuge and the elect their joy and bliss.

The Introit of this day's Mass reads: He will have mercy according to the multitude of his mercies: for he bath not willingly afflicted nor cast off the children of men: the Lord is good to them that hope in him, to the soul that seeketh him. Allel. allel. (Lament III. 32: 33. 25.) The mercies of the Lord I will sing for ever: to generation and generation. (Ps. LXXXVIII, 1.). Glory &c.

COLLECT Grant, we beseech Thee, Almighty God, that we who, glorying in the most Sacred Heart of Thy beloved Son, celebrate the singular benefits of His love toward us, may rejoice equally in their operation and their fruit. Through the same &c.

LESSON (Isai. XII. 1?6.) I will give thanks to thee, O Lord, for thou wart angry with me; thy wrath is turned away, and, thou hast comforted me. Behold God is my Saviour, I will deal confidently, and will not fear: because the Lord is my strength and my raise, and he is become my salvation. You shall draw waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains: and you shall say in that day: Praise ye the Lord, and call upon his name: make his works known among tie people: remember that his name is high. Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath done great things: show this forth in all the earth. Rejoice, and praise, O thou habitation of Sion: for great is he that is in the midst of thee, the Holy One of Israel.

EXPLANATION This lesson is a hymn of praise for the deliverance of the Jews from the hands of their enemies, and at the same time a prophecy of the coming redemption of mankind from sin and death through Christ. Man will then draw waters with joy, says the prophet, from the Saviour's fountains. These fountains are the graces which Jesus has gained for us on the cross, but especially, as St: Augustine says, the holy Sacraments of Baptism and Communion. We should rejoice on account of these graces, particularly that the Holy One of Israel, Christ, the Son of God, dwells in the midst of Sion, that is, in the Catholic Church, in the Blessed Sacrament, to remain there to the end of the world. - Oh! let us often approach this everflowing fountain of all grace, the holy Eucharist, and let us draw with confidences consolation, help, and strength from this fountain of love.

GOSPEL (John XIX. 31-35.) At that time, The Jews (because it was the parasceve), that the bodies might not remain upon the cross on the sabbath-day (for that was a great. sabbath-day), besought Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away. The soldiers, therefore, came, and they broke the legs of the first, and of the other that was crucified with him. But after they were come to Jesus, when they saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. But one of the soldiers with a spear opened his side, and immediately there came out blood and water. And he that saw it hath given testimony: and his testimony is true.

EXPLANATION According to the Jewish law a criminal could not be put to death, nor could the body of one who had been executed, remain in the place of execution, on the Sabbath day; it was for this reason that the Jews asked Pilate, the governor, to have the Body of Christ and those of the two thieves buried. Before this could be done, the bones of the crucified, according to the Roman law, had to be broken with iron clubs. The soldiers did so to the two thieves, who were yet alive; when they came to Jesus and found Him dead, they did not break His bones, but one of them, Longinus, opened the Saviour's side with a spear, as was foretold by the prophet.

Jesus permitted His most Sacred Heart to be opened to atone for and efface those sins of men which originate in the heart, as Christ Himself says: (Matt. XV. 19.) From the heart come forth evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts; false testimonies, blasphemies; also to show us the infinite love with which He has loved lts from the beginning, so that lie even shed the last drop of His heart's blood for our salvation; to make, as it were, a place of refuge in His heart for us, as St. Augustine says: "The Evangelist is very careful in his expression; he does not say, the soldiers pierced or wounded His side, but he o p e n e d it, as if to open for us the door of life, from which flow the Sacraments of the Church, without which there can be no access to the true life." As often, then, as a temptation arises, or trouble depresses us, let us take refuge in that abode, and dwell there, until the tempest is over; as says the prophet; (Is. II. 10.) Enter thou into the rock, and hide thee in the pit. Who is the rock but Christ, and what is the pit but His wound?

AN ACT OF RESIGNATION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS

[An indulgence of one hundred Days is gained by saying this prayer with true contrition, before a picture of the sacred heart of Jesus, and a plenary indulgence by saying it every day for a month, and receiving the Sacraments of Penance and Communion, and Praying for the Church.]

O Jesus, most worthy of love! I gratefully offer Thee my heart in compensation for my great unfaithfulness, and consecrate myself wholly and forever to Thy service, purposing, with Thy grace, no more to offend Thee. Amen

[seekfirstme]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2021. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: Who can bear to look upon the bloodied cross where Jesus hung without shame or sorrowful grief, disbelief or reverent awe? The cross brings us face to face with Jesus' suffering. He was alone - all his disciples had deserted him except for his mother and three women along with John, the beloved disciple. And his death was agonizing and humiliating. Normally a crucified man could last for several days on a cross. Jesus' had already been scourged, beaten with rods, and a crown of thorns pressed into his skull. It is no wonder that he died mid-afternoon. Pilate publicly heralded Jesus "The King of the Jews" as he died upon the cross, no doubt to irritate and annoy the chief priests and Pharisees (John 19:19).

The King who ransoms us with his own life

Jesus was crucified for his claim to be King. The Jews had understood that the Messiah would come as their king to establish God's reign for them. They wanted a king who would free them from tyranny and foreign domination. Many had high hopes that Jesus would be the Messianic king. Little did they understand what kind of kingship Jesus claimed to have. Jesus came to conquer hearts and souls for an imperishable kingdom, rather than to conquer perishable lands and entitlements.

Jesus' death on the cross defeated sin and death for us

We can find no greater proof of God's love for us than the willing sacrifice of his Son on the cross. Jesus' parting words, "It is finished!" express triumph rather than defeat. Jesus bowed his head and gave up his spirit knowing that the strife was now over and the battle was won. Even on the cross Jesus knew the joy of victory. What the Father sent him into the world to do has now been accomplished. Christ offered himself without blemish to God and he put away sin by the sacrifice of himself (see Hebrews 9:24-26).

As we gaze on his wounds - we touch the scars of his resurrection

While the close company of Jesus' disciples - his apostles - had deserted him and hid out of fear from the Jewish authorities, Jesus' mother and some of the women who were close to Jesus stood close to him while he hung upon the cross. Augustine of Hippo (354-430 A.D) in his sermon on John's passion account focuses on the gaze of the women who witnessed the shedding of his blood and the offering of his life as the atoning sacrifice for the sin of the world.

"As they were looking on, so we too gaze on his wounds as he hangs. We see his blood as he dies. We see the price offered by the redeemer, touch the scars of his resurrection. He bows his head, as if to kiss you. His heart is made bare open, as it were, in love to you. His arms are extended that he may embrace you. His whole body is displayed for your redemption. Ponder how great these things are. Let all this be rightly weighed in your mind: as he was once fixed to the cross in every part of his body for you, so he may now be fixed in every part of your soul." (GMI 248)

Augustine invites us to present ourselves before Jesus crucified who took our sins upon himself and nailed them to the cross. Through the eyes of faith we, too, gaze upon the bloodied body of our Redeemer who paid the price for our sins - and we touch the scars of his resurrection who defeated death for our sake so that we may know the victory of his cross and resurrection and receive the promise of everlasting life and glory with him in his kingdom.

The miracle of my salvation

In the cross of Christ we see the triumph of Jesus over his enemies - sin, Satan, and death. Many Christians down through the centuries have sung the praises of the Cross of Christ. Paul the Apostle exclaimed, "But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Galatians 6:14).

Hear what Gregory Nazianzen (329-389 AD), an early church father and bishop of Constantinople, wrote about the triumph of Christ's exaltation on the cross:

"Many indeed are the wondrous happenings of that time: God hanging from a cross, the sun made dark and again flaming out (Luke 23:44, Mark 15:33); for it was fitting that creation should mourn with its creator. The temple veil rent (Matthew 27:51), blood and water flowing from his side (John 19:34): the one as from a man, the other as from what was above man; the earth shaken, the rocks shattered because of the rock (Matthew 27:51); the dead risen to bear witness to the final and universal resurrection of the dead (Matthew 27:52). The happenings at the sepulcher and after the sepulcher, who can fittingly recount them? Yet no one of them can be compared to the miracle of my salvation. A few drops of blood renew the whole world, and do for all men what the rennet does for the milk: joining us and binding us together. (On the Holy Pasch, Oration 45.1)

Rupert of Deutz (1075-1129), a Benedictine abbot and theologian, wrote:

"The cross of Christ is the door to heaven, the key to paradise, the downfall of the devil, the uplifting of mankind, the consolation of our imprisonment, the prize for our freedom."

The throne of love and sign of God's mercy

The Cross of Christ is the safeguard of our faith, the assurance of our hope, and the throne of love. It is also the sign of God's mercy and the proof of forgiveness. By his cross Jesus Christ has pardoned us and set us free from the tyranny of sin. He paid the price for us when he made atonement for our sins. The way to peace, joy, and righteousness in the kingdom of God and the way to victory over sin and corruption, fear and defeat, despair and death is through the cross of Jesus Christ. Do you follow the Lord Jesus in his way of the cross with joy, hope, and confidence?

"Lord Jesus Christ, by your death on the cross you have won pardon for us and freedom from the tyranny of sin and death. May I live in the joy and freedom of your victory over sin and death."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2021.

GOOD NEWS ON GOOD FRIDAY

“He became the Source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him.” —Hebrews 5:9

When we venerate the cross today and kiss the wounds of Jesus, may we be totally committed to Him, repentant of all sins, and zealous for everyone to know our crucified Savior’s love. If obedience, repentance, and evangelization are not our responses to Jesus’ sacrificial death, the cross of Christ is “rendered void of its meaning” (1 Cor 1:17). The Lord wants us to leave church today willing to suffer anything so as to lead as many as possible to Jesus (1 Cor 9:19).

After what Jesus has done for us, we must be willing to die, if only we can lead someone to Him. The greatest need of a starving person is not food but Jesus, the Bread of life. The greatest need of a wounded person is not healing but the Healer. It is certainly true that we probably can’t evangelize someone who has an empty stomach; however, eternal salvation is of the greatest importance. Jesus will provide our daily bread and heal our wounds.

However, our need is not primarily for what Jesus can do; our primary need is the need for Jesus Himself. Starving or hurt persons can live forever in perfect happiness, but those who don’t know Jesus are “among the living dead” (1 Jn 3:14). For those who believe in Jesus with all their hearts, the Lord turns even the most difficult lives into something glorious (see Rm 8:28).

Good Friday will be good when we love Jesus by sharing the Good News of His love for us.

Prayer:  Jesus, You gave Your life for me; I give my life for You.

Promise:  Jesus, You gave Your life for me; I give my life for You.

Praise:   (none)

Reference:  

Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for One Bread, One Body covering the period from April 1,2021 through May 31, 2021 Reverend Steve J. Angi, Chancellor, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio August 5,2020"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

[liveindiatimes]

Anil Kapoor marks Mr India’s 33 years with story behind Zindagi Ki Yahi Reet Hai song: ‘Its message is still as important’ - bollywood

https://liveindiatimes.com/anil-kapoor-marks-mr-indias-33-years-with-story-behind-zindagi-ki-yahi-reet-hai-song-its-message-is-still-as-important-bollywood/

Anil Kapoor has shared the song Zindagi Ki Yahi Reet Hai from his hit film Mr India on Instagram. His post is in celebration of the 33 years of the film.

Anil talked about how the song came to be and how he had to plead with Kishore Kumar and Laxmikant Pyarelal to work together for it. “34 Years of Mr India. Mr India was & always will be a very important film for me. I remember even 34 years ago when we began the journey I became obsessed with every detail. From the time I heard the tune of ‘Zindagi Ki Yahi Reet Hai’ I could only imagine Kishore Da’s voice singing it,” he said. “At the time, Kishore Kumar & Laxmikant Pyarelal did not want to work together. It took months to even get in touch with Kishore da. When I finally did, I went to Kishore Kumar’s residence & mediated their patch up…the end result was this beautiful melody which is so uplifting during these tough times,” he added.

  Anil said that the song and it’s message are still relevant today. “Today is 33 years since the release of Mr India and it’s message is still as important, if not more so. Be kind to each other, do the right thing; life may get tough, but in the end, good will prevail. ‘Zindagi Ki Yehi Reet Hai Haar Ke Baad Hi Jeet Hai Thode Aansu Hai, Thodi Hasi Aaj Gham Hai To Kal Hai Khushi’,” he wrote with his post.

Anil also shared a video of the song, one of the earliest in the film. Anil played a kind-hearted man who was fostering several kids at his home. His life changes when he lands on a gadget that renders him the ability to turn invisible.

Sridevi, Anil Kapoo and the kids from Mr India.

The actor’s fans loved his post and were hit with a strong wave of nostalgia. “Bachpan se abhi tak ki one of my fav. Film thank u sir and congrats,” wrote a fan. “Brings back childhood days…thanks for the awesome memories Mr. India …@ anilskapoor,” wrote another.

The film also starred late actors Sridevi as Madhu and Amrish Puri as the villain Mogambo. The film was directed by Shekar Kapur and produced by Anil’s elder brother Boney Kapoor. There were recent reports that the film was being remade by Ali Abbas Zafar as a trilogy.

Also read: Eid 2020: Priyanka Chopra, Sara Ali Khan wish Eid mubarak, Sonam Kapoor says ‘Thank you for praying for us’

The entire Kapoor family, including Sonam Kapoor raised objection to it. “No one has even asked me or mentioned to me about this film called Mr India 2. I can only guess that they using the title to get a big weekend. For they cannot use the characters/story without permission from the original creators of the film,” wrote Shekhar in a tweet.

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[themusicplayedherlife]

Hi! I'm the anon that requested 30, 31, 32 and 33 and I was intending it for Bucky. Sorry for being late to reply, and thank you!! xx

30. “I never cheated on you! How could you even think that?!” 31. “You love me, but I don’t love you. I’m sorry.” 32. “If I go out of my room, I know I’ll fall apart.” 33. “I can’t live without you, I need you.”

additional notes in the tags

You’re wrapped up in blankets, your sniffling having finally calmed down after a few hours of trying to stay calm. The TV set in front of you is playing old reruns of your favorite show, hoping it would be a great pick me up but it only helped to sour your mood further. It was a constant reminder of date nights at home you spent snuggling with Bucky, drinking your chosen drinks while eating homemade snacks or store bought junk food.

“Do you want more water?”

You’re grateful to have someone like Wanda checking up on you, making sure you were still alive after your somewhat mutual breakup. It made you feel a tiny bit better to know that someone cared enough about you to drop whatever they were doing to make time for you. Even if it isn’t the person you were hoping for.

“I’m okay.” You wince at the sound of your voice, exhausted and meek. It’s lacking your usual flair that Bucky used to tell you he loved, randomly calling you throughout the day to hear it.

Wanda sighs, setting the pitcher of water down on your vanity. “Sweetheart, you need to get out for a little bit. You’ve been locked up inside for too long, the others are starting to worry.”

“I can’t,” you whimper. “If I go out of my room, I know I’ll fall apart.”

“I know, I know. But you have a life to live, you can’t let this whole thing with Bucky dictate your life. If you need to take a longer break from work, then we’ll take it together. Somewhere far away from everyone where you won’t have to see his face or be reminded of him.” She smiles down at you, taking your hands in hers.

You force a smile, “Wanda, thank you, but I just need some time to myself right now.” She frowns and you quickly add in, “Just for now. I’ll take you up on your offer when I feel better. But it’s only been a few days and right now I can only take small baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” she repeats and nods. “Okay. But as soon as you feel ready, let me know. I’ll convince Tony to give us some more time off.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll come and check up on you later, okay?”

You thank her again and she smiles warmly, standing up and taking the tray of food she had brought in earlier and that you barely touched with her.

“Oh! What are–” You hear the clatter of plates hitting the floor, surprising you and making you throw off your blankets and stand up to help Wanda.

“Are you…” your voice trails off when you notice someone else by the door helping Wanda pick up the mess of plates and food on the floor. Your heart races and your back straightens.

Bucky is on his knees, helping Wanda and apologizing as she roughly takes the plates from his hands and sets them on the tray, leaving only the mess of food. He looks up, a sheepish expression on his face as his eyes land on your standing form.

You suddenly feel self-conscious about how you look. Your hair is in disarray, your skin lacking it’s normal glow and everyday makeup, and you’re wearing old sweatpants and a comfortable shirt you found in your closet.

Unlike you, Bucky looks great. He looks like he’s sleeping well and he’s wearing his favorite Henley and some black jeans. He’s still sporting the stubble he had while you were dating and his hair is in a low bun that only allowed a few strays to frame his face.

Seeing him look so put together and well only manages to hurt you. The make believe knowledge of him being torn up about your breakup helped soothe the wounds, as selfish as it sounds, it made you feel better knowing you weren’t alone in the grieving process. But taking him in as he slowly stands up and steps into your room makes any little part of you that was healing shatter in a matter of seconds.

“I’m sorry,” his voice is smooth and familiar. And once again it serves as a reminder that you have been the only one crying about a relationship you had wanted so badly to work out. The only one trying to get ahold of themselves. It’s just like when you were together. You were the only one putting an effort to meet him in the middle. The only one who cared.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asks the question you were dying to ask, but too afraid to say it in case your voice wavered and gave away more than your appearance does. You still wanted to hold onto some dignity. “Who let you in? Did Pietro let you in? Or did you break into our apartment? Oh my god, you broke into our apartment!”

“What? No, I just–” His eyes drift from Wanda then to you. “I want to talk to you.”

“You need to leave.” Wanda practically growls, her form becoming protective and dangerous. “Or I’m calling the cops.”

“Please,” he pleads, not looking away from you.

“Okay.” It falls out of your lips before you can think about what you’re agreeing to. He’s always had that effect on you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda is staring you down, her gaze unwavering.

“It’s fine.” You’re positive you sound unsure, and Wanda’s expression only proves that it does but she relents after a small nod from you.

“I’ll come back later to pick up the mess and take out the trash.” The last part was definitely directed towards Bucky. God bless, Wanda. She leaves with one final glare in Bucky’s direction before closing the door behind her.

Bucky doesn’t move or say anything after she leaves, he only takes a sweeping look of your old room before his eyes stop on the TV, your favorite show still playing and acting as white noise. You watch as his face slowly changes, an unrecognizable glint appearing in his eyes and a small smile curving his lips. It makes your knees buckle, having missed that smile. God, you hated what he did to you. What he does to you. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.

You clear your throat, hoping it’ll clear your voice. “You wanted to talk?” It gains his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, a telltale sign he was nervous. You want to so badly believe that he’s nervous because of you but you know better. You’ve learned your lesson. It’s never been you that’s managed to rile him up, but someone else. As much as it hurts to admit it. “I just–Steve wanted me to come talk to you.”

Of course, you snort. Why else would he come and check up on you? You’ve never been as important as Steve or Natasha, or anyone else really. You were always left forgotten as you waited for him. He was either too far right or too far left, while you waited for him in the middle.

“Okay.”

He sighs and takes a hand out of his pockets and rubs at his stubble. “I’m sorry, that’s not–fuck. I’ve already fucked up, haven’t I?” You don’t answer him and he chuckles, taking the silence as his answer. “I just–I don’t know what to do or say.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come here.” It hurts to say it but it’s true. “You’re only wasting your time.”

He flinches at your words, or maybe at how you sound like, you’re not sure. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop!” For some reason, you snap, surprising both of you. “Stop,” you try again, more gently. “Stop apologizing. Please.”

“I’m so–” he stops himself before he finishes, his eyes lowering to the floor and focusing on your slipper-clad feet. “This was a bad idea.”

“It was.”

You can’t help how bitter everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like. You had every right to be bitter about your breakup, about your past relationship, about him. It’s not fair that he’s okay and you’re not.

“Seriously?” He frowns. “Why are you acting like like this?”

“Why? You’re really asking me why?” You scoff, folding your arms over one another and across your chest, needing some kind of comfort and knowing only you can give yourself that now.

Bucky’s eyebrows scrunch together. “You wanted to break up too. This was a mutual breakup.”

“No, no this wasn’t.” Your voice is just above a whisper as you admit the truth, having held back when he mentioned breaking up all those days ago.

You don’t meet his eyes as he takes a step closer to you, trying to catch your gaze. “(Y/N), what are you talking about? When I mentioned–”

“Yes, you mentioned it! Yes, I agreed, but only because you kept pushing it! Because you believed it was for the best. Goddamn it, Bucky! I didn’t want to break up. I wanted to try and fix things.”

“(Y/N),” he says your name so softly that it finally makes you look up. He’s looking at you with a stormy gaze, blue eyes clouded with unknown emotions that would make your heart thump nervously against your ribcage as you tried to lift the veil off them to understand him. Now it only gives you anxiety, not knowing how he feels or how to know.

“I never wanted this,” you choke, sniffling back the unwanted tears.

Bucky is rendered speechless, his feet shuffling against your flooring. It takes him a moment to speak, breaking the suffocating silence. “This is why… this is why Steve said we needed to talk. He knew… he knew and I–fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you blink, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…” you drift off, not wanting to say anything else. You’ve already admitted too much and you couldn’t bare to say it all. He’s waiting patiently for you to continue, his gaze unnerving; the only bit of courage you had being sucked out of you.

“Because?” He repeats for you, pushing you to say how you feel.

“Because you wanted this; because you sounded so sure that we should break up.” Because she was there. “Because I was so tired of being the only one in the relationship.”

“That’s how you felt?” He scoffs distastefully, not believing what he’s hearing.

Fuck it. You were laying everything out on the table. Bucky started something that cannot be stopped, like a dam breaking and allowing the rushing water to escape after being confined for too long after a harsh rainfall. “At some point, I thought you were cheating on me.”

“What the fuck?” His hands slap at his sides, head lowering once more as he tries to figure out what to do or say.

You had never told him this, having hidden it well. At least, well enough for him to not notice because everyone else did. You can still remember Steve’s concerned voice as he tried to encourage you to tell Bucky. He was much more invested in your relationship than Bucky was, it almost felt like he was your boyfriend instead.

“I never cheated on you! How could you even think that?!” If he spoke any louder, whoever was in the living room and your next door neighbors would hear him. And if it’s Wanda that hears him, she would rush into your room to kick Bucky out, with or without Pietro’s help.

“How could I not? Oh my god, Bucky! Are you really that daft?!” If you spoke any louder, Wanda was going to rush into your room and murder Bucky. At this point, you didn’t care anymore. “Every time we had plans you would wait until the last fucking minute to cancel! And those were only sometimes! Other times you would completely forget and not bother to mention it to me! I would wait hours for you like a fucking idiot.

"Do you have any fucking idea how I felt every time that happened? How I felt when I found it it was because you were with Natasha instead? How I felt every time Steve would show up instead to take me home? Or pretend to be my date so I wouldn’t look like a fucking moron waiting for her no-show boyfriend?! Tell me, Bucky, what would you think if you came home and found me cuddling on the sofa with a guy friend instead of showing up on our date? What’s the first thing that would come to mind, huh? That we’re so cute and then shrug it off and join us?”

His eyes shift as your eyes begin to redden again, the tears you tried so hard to hide slowly falling.

“I tried so hard to be understanding. I tried so hard to tell myself that it was only because she was heartbroken because she needed a shoulder to cry on; that she needed her best friend. It was slowly making me feel like I wasn’t important anymore. I felt like you had so many other people in front of me–that I was last in your heart.

"But I realized that wasn’t normal and it wasn’t fair to me, Bucky. I really, really love you and it hurt me so much when you wanted to break up. I wanted so badly to try and fix things, wanted you to meet me in the middle but when I saw Natasha standing by our bedroom door watching us talk, I knew I was no match for her.

"Knew I was fighting for a relationship that didn’t exist anymore,” you sob. “It felt like you were telling me: ”You love me, but I don’t love you. I’m sorry. I’m falling in love with someone else. So, let’s break up.“ And it hurt. Hurt more than you could know.”

You hear him sniffle as you try to wipe away the tears. He’s rubbing at his eyes, his face red and nose running. You had never seen him cry before and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. How much more can you hurt? Were you even supposed to feel sorry for him? Should you feel sorry for him? God, you hate him. You hate him so much for confusing you, for hurting you, for breaking you and making you feel like you weren’t important.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he wheezes our between sobs. He sounds so pained and although you thought you would feel relieved that he finally knew what you felt, you feel the opposite. This is why you never told him how you felt, why you chose to bottle up every insecurity you felt about your relationship. “If I… if I had known I would’ve done something about it, I wouldn’t have—fuck. I thought you and Steve—“

“What?” It’s almost comedic how fast you whip your head at the mention of you and Steve, having a feeling where Bucky was going with this.

“I thought you had a crush on Steve. I thought I needed to step aside because you couldn’t break up with me, didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Natasha thought I was crazy and she was right.”

“What?” Apparently, that’s the only word in your social vernacular at the moment.

He laughs through the tears and he looks just as ridiculous as you, only better dressed. “God, I am such a fucking idiot.”

“You thought I liked Steve?” You gawk at him, your tears coming to a slow stop. “How in the world did you get that idea?”

“When we weren’t together you were always with Steve. Then you had to work overtime and all I could picture was the two of you alone in an office together. You guys were closer than ever.”

“Because we were working on a secret project for work together! I told you this! You knew this!”

“I know! I know! Steve told me today too! I was just being a jealous idiot.” He wipes away his tears with the back of his hand, laughing. “Natasha told Steve about what I was doing and he ripped me a new one. Called me a clueless son of a gun and dragged me out of bed and into the shower. Then dragged me here and told me I needed to talk to you because we’re both a couple of idiots that don’t know how to communicate.” Your heart drums rapidly against your ribcage, knowing that Bucky was actually just as hurt about your break up as you were. It wasn’t just you like you had begun to believe.

“Oh my god,” you sit on your bed, wiping the side of your face and then covering it from Bucky’s view. “So you and Natasha?”

“She was always trying to prove me wrong about my intuition, said she can tell you really loved me. Didn’t want me to mess up my relationship like she messed up hers. Also disagreed on my tactics to check if you had feelings for one another.”

“The last minute ditching and canceling?” Your hand that was covering your face falls on your lap when Bucky gets closer to you, only a couple of steps. “Steve picking me up?”

He nods as he sniffles, “He’s a nice guy. Knew he wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“We really are idiots.” You shake your head as he agrees with you. Biting your bottom lip, you look up, the fight inside of you having died out a long time ago. “What now?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Silence falls over the room, your TV having shut down a while ago because of it’s power saving setting, leaving only your breathing and sniffles as the only noise occupying your room.

“Do we start over?” he asks in a murmur. “We can communicate more? Trust each other more? Do things right?”

You contemplate it, twiddling your thumbs together out of nervous habit. Would things be different now? Better? It’s worth the shot, right? “Okay,” you agree, nodding as you stand up and smile softly.

“Okay,” he smiles back as he reaches for your hand. You step closer to him, taking his hand in yours to shake it. “Hi, I’m James, but you can call me Bucky. I couldn’t help but notice how pretty you are when you’re crying.”

You giggle, wiping at your tear stained cheek with your free hand. “Hi, Bucky, I’m (Y/N). I’m sorry to say you look like a total train wreck when you cry.”

He blinks before laughing loudly, letting go of your hand. “Well, at least I’m good enough company to make you look prettier. Beautiful even.”

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome.” You both stare at one another, relishing in the new giddiness in the pit of your stomach as your heart slowly starts to heal. You aren’t sure if things will work out this time, but you know now that you couldn’t keep bottling things up. You kept trying to put the blame on Bucky for supposedly not meeting you in the middle, but you weren’t meeting him there either. You were both always at the different points of the spectrum. This time, this second chance, you were going to make sure you met him in the middle.

“Am I the only one that was waiting for someone to say something like “I can’t live without you, I need you,” because I sure as hell was.”

Your head and Bucky’s whip towards your bedroom door, finding it opened and revealing Wanda and her twin brother leaning against the doorframe, and Steve grinning like an idiot behind them. You groan, moving closer to Bucky and hiding your face from their view in his chest. Almost like instinct, his arms wrap around you without missing a beat and keeping you hidden from view.

“If you hurt her again, Bucky, I swear I will make your life a living hell.” Bucky’s chest rumbles under your ear, his heartbeat thumping soundly against it. “Pietro, hand me the broom, I still need to clean up this mess. Hopefully, I won’t need to take out the trash anytime soon.”

“Wanda!”