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folklorianhaze · 11 months

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Baby, Just Say Yes

Pairing: Gwyn x Elain

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: One Shot, Fluff, Alternate Universe — Modern Setting, Taylor Swift’s “The Eras Tour”, Gwyn is a swiftie, Elain is a swiftie, Marriage Proposal, Gwyn is afraid of crowds

Word Count: 2702

Summary: A short one-shot inspired by @just-a-fangirlmore’s Tumblr post (thanks for letting me write this!): “Modern AU in which Elain and Gwyn are girlfriends and both are swifties and so Elain proposes to Gwyn during Love Story at the Eras Tour.”

Read it on AO3 here!

“You’re not nervous about tonight, are you?”

Elain Archeron poked her head through the doorway of their hotel room’s tiny bathroom, watching through the mirror as her girlfriend ran a curling iron through her coppery hair. The air between them was thick with the sweet-sharp scent of hairspray, the room still slightly misty from the shower they’d taken together earlier.

Gwyn’s brow was furrowed in an expression of concentration so intense it nearly bordered on achieving serenity, like a monk meditating upon a rock at the edge of an ocean. This was the first time in a while that she’d done anything with her hair or makeup more elaborate than the basic cleanliness and professionalism required by her job at the library, and Elain could tell that Gwyn wanted to make sure it was exactly right. Much like everything else in the woman’s life, she always seemed to put such pressure on herself even over the simplest things. Though Elain had always found that passion and drive about her endearing, something about it twisted at her chest just a bit, too.

Gwyn’s bright, clear eyes twinkled as she met Elain’s gaze in the mirror. “A little,” she finally admitted, though her voice sounded freer from anxiety than Elain had heard it in days. “But if I don’t brave these crowds for Taylor, then I don’t think anything could get me out of my house again,” she added with a self-deprecating little grin.

Elain smiled in return. “You’re going to love it — don’t worry,” she encouraged. “And don’t talk about yourself like you’re some sort of hermit. It’s not nice to make fun of the woman I love.”

Gwyn released the clamp on the iron, letting a fresh curl bounce its way down her shoulders. “I guess you’re right.” But when Gwyn’s eyes found the mirror again, Elain could see the faintest traces of worry there. “You really think it’ll be okay? I won’t be overwhelmed by it all?”

Elain slid fully into the room, padding across the tiles to stand behind Gwyn and wrap her arms around her lithe waist. Reeling her in close, Elain nuzzled her chin against the curve of Gwyn’s neck, the smooth tickle of her still-warm curls brushing against Elain’s cheeks. She felt Gwyn laugh, felt her hands come to settle over where Elain’s encircled her waist.

“I think you’ll have an amazing time,” said Elain at last. “And I’ll be there with you every step of the way. I promise.”

And she truly meant it. She’d known for months now how much this night would mean to Gwyn; she’d been in disbelief that Elain had even managed to get tickets in the first place, and hadn't been able to wrap her head around the fact that they’d be attending until now. This was the music they’d bonded over in the earliest stages of their relationship, the lyrics that had slowly brought them together, and to be able to experience this show as a couple would be a night Elain would never trade away.

As ecstatic as Gwyn had been when she’d found out they were going, though, she’d been equal parts terrified by the notion of being around so many people, in such a bustling and busy atmosphere, all at once. She’d always been a bit of a homebody, and due to the sort of unbearable trauma that turned Elain’s stomach just to think about, Gwyn had always taken comfort in one of the few places she felt safe apart from her own home — the library at which she worked. Elain had asked her, over and over, just to make entirely sure — would she be okay at an event like this, would she truly feel comfortable?

And Gwyn had nodded her head resolutely, determined to allow herself one night of fun in spite of her anxieties.

It was that bravery — that display of courage and determination in the face of something as daunting as healing oneself from a pain so deep — that Elain loved and admired so much about her. That made her want to make this night as truly magical for Gwyneth Berdara as she deserved.

It was that bravery that had inspired Elain Archeron to take a bit of a leap of faith of her own tonight, she realized, as she reached into her pocket and pressed a reassuring hand against the tiny box sitting inside. She couldn’t let the nerves show, even as they tangled her stomach into a complicated knot within her. She could do this — in fact, the question practically burned where it sat on the tip of her tongue, practically begging to be asked.

But she could only silently hope for the best, could only do her best to make sure she could convey all the love and affection that weighed on her heart.

She could only hope that when she asked, Gwyn would say yes.

***

Gwyneth Berdara was nothing short of overwhelmed.

And she would never in a million years have imagined that she might think to use such a word to describe an experience in a positive way, but here she was, and yes — she was beginning to think it was the good sort of overwhelmed she was feeling right now, as the music pounded straight through her.

As she and Elain had approached the stadium earlier, Gwyn had watched the mighty structure loom in the distance like a slumbering dragon (only the dangers would be tightly-packed crowds and booming noises rather than fire and brimstone.) Adrenaline and perhaps a bit too much caffeine had whetted her anxiety into a sharp edge, and she’d clung tightly to Elain’s hand as they walked, hoping her palms weren’t too humiliatingly sweaty. Elain’s dark eyes — that lovely, rich brown, so easy to get lost in — had kept finding her, kept sending her assessing glances as they drew closer. Are you still alright? She’d seemed to say. You don’t have to do this.

And Gwyn had known that Elain’s silent offers were sincere. In spite of all the money they’d spent to get here, all the hassle it had been to even get tickets in the first place, all the months of anticipation leading up to this moment . . . if Gwyn had truly been too uncomfortable, too afraid to go forward with it, Elain would have understood and they would have been able to go right home. The thought of that was a safety net to Gwyn all day long, enough to keep her from spiraling entirely into a panic. But then again, that was what Elain had always been good at doing — making sure everyone around her, but especially those she loved, felt safe and at ease, at home with her.

Perhaps it was because of that security that Gwyn had been able to face today as strongly as she had. True, the process leading up to actually getting into the stadium had made her chest clench a bit — it had been years since she’d been in a crowd of this size, and all the different faces, the bits of conversation floating through the air, the humid heat of the summer day, had been a dizzying and disorienting experience. But when they’d gotten inside and gotten matching light-up bands secured around their wrists — Elain’s own arms jangling with the copious amounts of friendship bracelets she’d come intent on trading — the tight knot inside her had eased, pushed back even more when they’d at last made it to their seats.

She hadn’t realized they’d be quite so close to the stage, and had found herself scarcely able to take it all in.

Elain had given her hand a reassuring squeeze, grinned at her as the pre-show music blasted through the stadium. “I love you,” she’d murmured. “You ready?”

Gwyn had given a quick, shaky nod, not entirely sure if she could never be ready for a night of this magnitude. But it was hard to ignore the energy around her — indeed, it proved more and more difficult to be truly nervous at all as the excitement began to turn to something bubbly and light in the pit of her stomach. This was — fun. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she’d let herself go out and forget her troubles and just . . . have fun, with the woman she loved at her side.

And of all the people who could possibly have attended with her tonight, she found herself immensely grateful it was Elain. She looked nothing short of stunning in the rosy golden light of the steadily-approaching sunset, the little bits of gold in her light-brown hair gleaming where they caught the light. The two of them had both gone all-out and decided to dress up for the occasion, but Elain had truly pulled out all the stops. Having enlisted the help of both Nuala and Cerridwen, she’d replicated one of the dresses from the ME! music video with painstaking attention to detail — a black, sleeveless bodice that clung to her curves, falling into a skirt of fluffy white tulle bursting with flowers. Simple, but eye-catching.

Gwyn’s costume leaned more toward comfort than elegance, but she’d chosen it herself and she loved it for its simplicity. She sported a long, drapey white tee shirt, with A LOT GOING ON AT THE MOMENT emblazoned across the front in bold, black lettering. And, of course, sparkly black shorts and a matching hat.

A lot going on, indeed. She practically felt as if her heart might break free of her rib cage and burst its way out of her chest.

But once the anticipation had finally come to a head and the show, at last, began in full, Gwyn found it easier and easier to let go of the anxiety that had clung to her all afternoon. There was something about the teeming energy of the crowd, the way she could get utterly lost in it all, that helped her relax all the more. And this show, this music — these songs had meant so much to her for so long, healed her at a time when she’d felt her loneliest. It wasn’t long at all before Gwyn had shed her worries entirely, and she and Elain were arm-in-arm, dancing to the beat, singing along with their cheeks pressed together.

“This is everything — everything I thought it would be and more,” Gwyn stammered to Elain in between songs, her voice nearly drowned out by the music, the clamor of the crowd. “Thank you for being here with me,” she added anyway.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. And no one else I’d rather be with,” Elain answered, and Gwyn knew she meant it.

The evening descended into a blur of color and light and sound. The music thrummed into her, the bass tremoring right through to Gwyn’s very bones. She’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t film too much of it, that she’d try her best to be as in the moment as she possibly could, and she was glad of that decision as she danced and laughed and truly let her hair down for the night. She couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d allowed herself to feel . . . free like this. When for once, the weight that usually pressed down onto her shoulders didn’t feel quite so impossible to bear.

It’s fearless, Taylor sang, her voice reverberating throughout the stadium, and yes, Gwyn finally thought she understood what that meant.

She couldn’t help but notice a change in the atmosphere between herself and Elain, though, as the opening chords to Love Story echoed out. Not necessarily in a negative way, but . . . she’d noticed Elain becoming increasingly quieter. More subdued. Almost as if, strangely, she’d absorbed all the worry and anxiety Gwyn had been carrying around all day and had now taken it into her own body. She smiled when she caught Gwyn’s eye, but something in it was slightly strained. Almost . . . nervous. And now, even in the darkness, she could see the faintest blush staining Elain’s cheeks and the tip of her pert nose.

Perhaps she was simply overthinking things. After all, Elain hadn’t seemed so on edge before the concert. Had something happened to upset her at all?

It took no time at all for her to receive her answer.

As the song swelled to its climax, the music first pulling back for an instant as the narrator in the song pleaded for her Romeo to come save her, then building as the pleas grew more desperate, Gwyn felt the softest brush of a hand against her shoulder. Just as the music burst into the magical, celebratory final chorus, Gwyn turned in the direction she’d been tapped, eyebrows raised and curious . . .

. . . and came to face Elain, slowly sinking down onto one knee in front of her.

A ring in her hand, extended towards Gwyn.

Marry me, Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone — the music, the whirl of color, Elain’s eyes staring directly into hers —

“Elain?” Gwyn breathed, unable to find the proper words for anything else, unable to stop the shaky smile making its way onto her face.

There were excited murmurs in the crowd around them, people sitting close by who had seen and now gasped in barely-concealed excitement. But for the first time, Gwyn found herself not caring in the slightest about the crowd around her. No, at the moment, focusing entirely on Elain wasn’t difficult to do at all.

This — this was why Elain had been so beside herself, so increasingly nervous as the night went on. As if she’d somehow thought — as if, in any world, under any circumstance, Gwyn’s answer would be anything but a resounding yes.

“I love you so much, Gwyn,” Elain said to her, raising her voice over the music. “And I’m so proud of you for doing this today. Please — if you’d please marry me —”

“Oh, get up here and kiss me already,” Gwyn interrupted before Elain could say another word, her voice trembling with shocked laughter as she helped Elain to her feet.

And with hands that shook just as hard as Gwyn’s, Elain slid the ring onto the redhead’s finger, the two of them gazing with unrestrained amazement into each other’s eyes. Just as Gwyn had requested, Elain wasted no time granting her that kiss; the two of them melted into each other, hardly remembering there was a world around them, hardly hearing the applause and congratulatory cheering, hardly even hearing the music play anymore. There was a roaring in her ears that Gwyn thought might be her heartbeat.

“Yes,” Gwyn whispered when they at last drew apart, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Elain’s ear. “Yes, Elain — of course.”

“You’re sure?”

“Easiest decision of my life, really.”

Elain seized her in a fierce embrace, as if she could barely believe it, laughing into Gwyn’s shoulder as a tiny smattering of people in their immediate area offered their polite congratulations.

“You know, I really should thank Nesta,” Elain confessed as the song came to an end, the performers onstage beginning the transition from one era to the next with practiced fluidity. With a conspiratorial grin, she added, “She’s the one who gave me the idea to propose like this in the first place.”

Gwyn chuckled, the sound breathless, as if she’d been swept up into the skies itself. Of course Nesta would. Something in her chest twisted at the thought — the realization that she finally had friends in her life who cared so much for her, who knew so well what would make her happy and wanted that for her so much. She’d never . . . Gwyn had never imagined she’d have a life like this. Any of it. Elain, or her friends, or even the ability to leave her house and intersperse with crowds on this level at all.

And now . . . now it was like she’d finally made it. Like that part of her she’d once felt was so dark, something to fear and shy away from . . . now, it was finally beginning to truly heal over.

“Don’t just thank Nesta,” Gwyn said, lifting Elain’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. And with an amused little smirk, she added, “Thank Taylor Swift.”

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses fanfic #gwyn x elain #gwyneth berdara #elain archeron #gwynlain #my fanfic #elain x gwyn #gwynlain fanfic

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dmwrites · 1 year

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Sanctuary was every bit as gorgeous as Pearl had described it. Impulse turned on the spot, mouth open, looking at all the colors and patterns that adorned every building. Even the paths had their own unique charm. Impulse could understand why Pearl had liked it there.

“Sausage?” Impulse called out. It was so peaceful here, he didn’t even feel much anxiety over night beginning to fall. The sun’s last golden rays kissed the buildings so tenderly, it made Impulse want to watch the changing light forever.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Sausage’s unforgettable voice sounded, and he came from around a corner, and smiled widely at the sight of Impulse. “Impulse! Hello, my friend! Welcome to Sanctuary!” He bounced forward, kissing Impulse on each cheek before backing away to a more reasonable space.

“Hi Sausage. That was… quite the greeting.” Impulse touched his cheek, sure he was bright red.

“Ah, it is customary here in Sanctuary to greet one another with a kiss!” Sausage explained. “Do you need any other cheeks kissed, Impulse?”

Impulse cleared his throat after a moment of stunned silence. “No, no, I’m good, thanks. I actually came by to give you an elytra, after the one you lent me got destroyed.” He pulled out a pair of wings and handed them to Sausage. “Then I came through the portal and was in awe of how beautiful it is here.”

“Oh, stop it, you’re too kind!” Sausage said, smiling.

“I see why Pearl liked it so much- she was the one who told me how to get here.” Impulse continued. “Oh, you know Pearl, right? She’s one of the hermits, I think you let her borrow one of your shields, I guess that’s how she knew how to get here. I know there’s probably a lot of us, hard to remember names, you know?”

Sausage gave Impulse a very strange, almost sad, smile. “Yeah, I remember Pearl. Is she a friend of yours back on Hermitcraft?” He lead Impulse to the tavern and poured him a drink.

“Yeah!” Impulse said enthusiastically. “She’s like a sister to me, or a younger cousin. She’s super smart and talented, and I'm always so proud of her and how far she’s come. Her building style is jaw-dropping, like yours.”

“Oh, stop it, you.” Sausage said softly. His eyes glittered in the lantern light.

“She’s been with the hermits for two seasons now- oh, we have, like, eras, I guess you could say, of Hermitcraft. It’s this whole big thing, I won’t get into it now. But I’ve based with her both times, and she is so great. She’s always there for me, even when I feel like I’ve failed. She knows how to fight, and does some of the best pranks. The world, the Hermitcraft world, would have a little less joy if she wasn’t in it.”

“She sounds cool.” Sausage said.

Impulse leaned forward, looking concerned. “Hey man, are you crying? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Sausage wiped away the tears that had been slowly rolling down his cheeks. “I just- I had a friend like Pearl, once. You describing her brings back a lot of memories.”

Impulse reached forward and took Sausage’s hand. “Well, hey, Pearl is super cool, and I bet she’d love to be friends with you. You should go say hi to her sometime.”

Sausage chuckled, quiet and low. “Yeah. Maybe I should.”

#November 8 2022 #fic #hc x empires #impulsesv #mythical sausage #pearl mention #long post

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apocalypticavolition · 16 days

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Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 3: News from the Plain

Another day, another chapter, another generic image because we're off the visual map! Come one, come all, get your Wheel of Time impressions here. Unless you don't want spoilers. Then bloody stay away.

This chapter has a Wheel icon because... Moiraine talks about the weaving of the Wheel a lot, I guess.

Someday, perhaps, he could bring himself to ask her what she knew. An Aes Sedai must know more of it than he did. But this was not the time. There never seemed to be a time.

Perrin, you've had like four months, plus the month you spent with her in Fal Dara. You are never going to ask her anything at this rate.

“An accident,” she said in a flat voice, then shook her head and vanished back inside the hut. The door banged shut a little loudly.

I suspect Moiraine thinks that this was a deliberate act to try and fuck up her meeting to punish her for not having a plan beyond "Wait". And since the temper tantrum is about that, she's not exactly wrong, just assigning more motivation to Rand than is fully there.

“If something goes wrong with it, it isn’t my fault. Rand spilled half of it on the fire with his. . . . What right does he have to bounce us around like sacks of grain?”

Trust me Min, when Rand wants to be bouncing you around like a sack of grain, you will be enthusiastically consenting.

“Min, maybe you had better go. First thing in the morning. I have some silver I can let you have, and I’m sure Moiraine would give you enough to take passage with a merchant’s train out of Ghealdan. You could be back in Baerlon before you know it.”

Perrin doesn't quite seem to understand that Min is going to inevitably see horrible shit no matter where she goes, short of becoming a hermit. It is a kind offer though.

“Just because fate has chosen something for you instead of you choosing it for yourself doesn’t mean it has to be bad. Even if it’s something you are sure you would never have chosen in a hundred years. ‘Better ten days of love than years of regretting,’ ” she quoted.

It's a little funny that Min has a deep understanding of the existentialism necessary to function in her present times but has absolutely nothing to do with Rand coming to understand it himself.

He thought he had said that too softly for her to hear, but the look she gave him was full of sympathy. And agreement.

Min probably knows that even when Perrin goes home it won't be home anymore. Perhaps she even sees his parents' grave at this point. Maybe even his sisters', though perhaps they haven't been retconned into existence by the Pattern yet.

Careless. He had grown so used to the Shienarans knowing how well he could see—in daylight at least; they did not know about the night—that he was beginning to slip about other things. Carelessness might kill me yet.

Yeah, you definitely don't want to confide about your awful extrasensory perception to Min. She wouldn't know anything about that and hates anyone with magical talents they shouldn't have. She'd totally turn Perrin into the Whitecloaks if she knew he was a freak.

Min sounded so troubled that Perrin was surprised for a moment. Then he nodded to himself. She did not really like doing what she did, but it was a part of her; she thought she knew how it worked, or some of it, at least. If she was wrong, it would almost be like finding out she did not know how to use her own hands.

See what I mean? They have absolutely nothing in common. I can only assume that there was a glitch in the Pattern this winter and that all the friendship that Perrin should be feeling towards Min got assigned to Mat accidentally instead (see book 14).

Perrin made an involuntary sound in his throat. Light, did I sound like that? I won’t let a death matter that little to me. As if he had spoken aloud, Moiraine looked at him.

It's rather funny to see early!Perrin on the other side of the "I understand your emotions better than you're trying to let on to me" exchange.

Perrin shifted—the Horn was where no Hunter on Almoth Plain would find it; where he hoped no Hunter ever would find it—and she gave him a cool look before continuing.

Seriously, Perrin apparently learned one hell of a lesson from Moiraine. And it's good to see the Hunters of the Horn aren't all total idiots. They should have arrived ages back.

“Or the first part of it. The Children have announced that their purpose is to bring peace, which is not unusual for them. What is unusual is that while they are trying to force the Taraboners and the Domani back across their respective borders, they have not moved in any force against those who have declared for the Dragon.”

Lan suspects this is a Whitecloak plot, but it's probably Carridin trying to thread the needles of his orders. By always letting Dragonsworn get away, he can seem to both being trying to kill them and not.

“One died by poison, two by the knife. Each in circumstances where no one should have been able to come close unseen, but that is how it happened.” She peered into the flames. “All three young men were taller than most, and had light-colored eyes. Light eyes are uncommon on Almoth Plain, but I think it is very unlucky right now to be a tall young man with light eyes there.”

These are the victims of Grey Men presumably deployed by the Forsaken who actively hate Rand, or perhaps Moghedien who is vaguely in the area. Striking unseen is very much her MO. Again though, the Dark One doesn't want Rand dead so it's not the official plan.

“So nothing has changed,” Perrin said glumly. “Not really. We cannot go down to the plain, and the Dark One wants us dead.” “Everything changes,” Moiraine said calmly, “and the Pattern takes it all in. We must ride on the Pattern, not on the changes of a moment.”

Moiraine, I've given Perrin a lot of shit so far this book so now it's your turn. He's accurately summarized the situation as it stands: your current plans aren't changing. You're just muttering a bunch of nonsense to seem mystical.

Since it is not possible to set two kinds of warding at once, I leave the scouts and the guards—and Lan—to defend us, and use the one warding that may do some good.

I don't recall if this comes up again. If not, I bet that one of the things the bright new minds of the Fourth Age will come up with is creating new ward weaves that are effectively combos while still obeying the one weave rule. Though obviously they won't be worrying about Shadowspawn at that point.

He had a hut to himself, a small thing of logs barely tall enough to stand in, the chinks filled with dried mud. A rough bed, padded with pine boughs beneath a blanket, took up nearly half of it. Whoever had unsaddled his horse had also propped his bow just inside the door.

Where Rand and Mat are equal parts panicked and embarrassed over being treated like nobility, Perrin is not really good enough with people to even find it worthy of comment that for some reason he gets his own hut. He probably just assumes he should for the same reason that Loial and Min probably do, even though there'd be different reasons for each.

Ah well, we can only hope that at some point, perhaps ten to sixty years after Tarmon Gaidon, Perrin will be just a wee bit better at social cues.

Next time: A dream sequence!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #perrin aybara #moiraine damodred #min farshaw #lan al'mandragoran #rand al'thor #uno nomesta #loial

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mawofthemagnetar · 2 years

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TFC stares into his coffee, watching as the steam curls up into the cool air of his mine.

It’s quiet, down there amid the flickering torches. There isn’t much to interrupt the peace.

His ancient coffee machine has fallen silent, its roars and gargles no longer echoing off the walls. Now it’s just a matter of waiting for his drink to cool.

He blows on his coffee, letting the steam disperse, taking a sip. Strong black coffee, just the way he likes it.

There’s a creaking from the ladder, and TFC turns to glance up it.

A green armoured boot descends into his mine, and he reclines in his chair, watching as Xisuma steps onto the expertly-dug stone.

“TFC! How are you, my friend?” Xisuma says, and TFC smiles.

“I’m not too bad.” He chuckles, “Coffee?”

Xisuma tilts his head as TFC slides a mug across the table.

“You know I drink tea.” Xisuma says primly, taking the mug and holding it up to the drinking port on his helmet.

“Yep.” TFC says with a smile, taking another sip and staring at one of the flickering torches. Watching the fire bounce and dance, the oranges and whites flashing away.

There’s a slurp as Xisuma drinks, his eyes watering in revulsion.

He says nothing.

It’s quiet.

For awhile.

“So. What brings you down here?” TFC asks plainly, breaking the silence, and Xisuma smiles, his eyes crinkling up behind the purple faceplate.

“Just…checking up on you. Making sure you didn’t burrow deep enough to wake a Balrog.” He jokes, and TFC smiles.

“No, no. You know me, X. I’m down here, just…being. There’s a peace to it, you know.” He says, gesturing at his diamond tools.

“I always found mining to be…pretty tedious.” Xisuma says plainly, “Never my favourite thing…”

TFC shakes his head.

“That’s cause you don’t get it. It’s peace and safety and a lot else besides. It’s not about the diamonds, X. It never was. You know?”

“…Maybe.” Xisuma says softly.

TFC takes another sip of his coffee. It’s the perfect temperature.

“You dig and you dig, and with each stroke, you make something beautiful. There’s a peace down here you don’t get up top. Climbing high, building vast, it’s fun, sure. But it’s…it’s a peak you strive for, you know? And you’re always chasing that dragon, chasing the next high…course, I could be off my rocker, as usual. I don’t know. But I do know that when you’re down here in the deeps, it all feels…calm.”

“A ship on the ocean?” Xisuma offers.

“Sort of, yeah.”

Silence, again.

“Didn’t mean to talk your ear off, sorry.” TFC says with a wry smile.

“No, no. It’s alright.” Xisuma says, “Uh, but I do…I think you should check your comm a bit more often, though.”

“Hmm?” TFC slaps his pocket, eyes going wide. His comm’s not there. He turns to look at the shelf his coffee machine is resting on, and there, tucked behind the coffee can, is the communicator.

“Ah.” TFC says, reaching over and grabbing it. He blows the dust off, and chuckles, “The beeping must have got to me. Darn thing never shuts up, you know?”

Xisuma nods, taking another sip of his coffee and shuddering. He puts the mug down with a clink against TFC’s small table.

“Been a few weeks, that’s all.” Xisuma says gently, “People were getting worried about you.”

“People?” TFC echoes, quirking an eyebrow. He switches his communicator on, the screen lighting up, and his status lighting up green- inactive to active.

There’s a handful of PM’s in his inbox. Not a ton- the hermits know that he likes his privacy- but there’s a fair few. He scrolls through them, eyes widening a little.

Mostly just hermits saying hello.

A few- not many, but a few- asking how he’s doing.

They know him too well for anything more.

“Oh.” He says, “I just…oh.”

“Yeah.” Xisuma smiles, “We worry about you, you know.”

“Yeah.” TFC says quietly.

He sips his coffee and stares into space.

“I guess I just…abandoned it on the table there and forgot about it. Sorry.” He says with a wry smile.

Xisuma nods.

“Happens to the best of us.”

And they both go quiet.

TFC swallows the last drops of his coffee, sitting back in his ancient chair, staring into the depths of his mine.

A smile on his face, soft, contemplative.

“Want to come digging with me, X?” he offers.

“…Yeah, alright.” Xisuma agrees.

#Magnetar writes #I spent a long time debating if I should post this or not #I've decided I will.

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izzy-b-hands · 1 year

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"It's a gift!"

"It is!" Ed nods. "Iz, it's-"

"You need two people for these kits usually," Izzy interrupts, holding up the silicone replica of Jack's cock. "Who did you get to help you?"

"How do you know the kit needs more than one person?" Jack slings back.

"Because otherwise you would have been trying to break open the mold by yourself," Izzy replies matter-of-factly. "And I presume that would have resulted in a call to us for help."

Jack nods. "Can't just enjoy the Valentine's Day gift, can ya? You're lucky you're so pretty."

"I'm curious now too," Ed remarks. "Wait, can I guess?"

"Well," Jack starts, but Ed's off like a rocket.

"Not Stede because he would have..." Ed pauses. "There wouldn't be anything intact after, had he helped, and he wouldn't say yes anyway."

"I think you can eliminate most of our fr-" Izzy stops mid-sentence. "No. She wouldn't say yes."

"She agreed as long as she could avert her eyes, and use a hammer to help break the mold open," Jack says.

"Jackie?" Ed laughs. "I can't believe you even asked her."

"She just wanted to hit you in the dick with a hammer," Izzy adds. "I respect it."

"You suck this dick regularly!" Jack scoffs. "How can you say that? And after I gave you a forever version of one of the cocks you love so much!"

Izzy shrugs. "Two contradictory things can exist beside each other and both be true."

"Izzy!"

"What," Izzy smirks. "Will you tell me to go fuck myself?"

He holds up his gift.

Jack blinks. "Fuck! That would have been so good! I didn't even think of using that joke for these."

"Come on," Izzy sighs and heads for the bedroom. "Ed's going over for dinner at Stede's. I, however, might need a demonstration on how to use this."

"Have fun," Ed pecks Jack's cheek as he sneaks past him. "And thank you. You'll get me all to yourself tomorrow night, and Izzy has your gift from both of us waiting in the bedroom."

"Is it a dil-"

"No, not one of those," Ed interrupts. "I'll see you-"

"Wait. Is it-"

"I love you so much," Ed kisses him quickly. "Have fun!"

"What if Stede got you one of these too?" Jack asks in a rush.

"A replica dildo of your cock? Would be sweet of him but I'd be curious as to how he got it," Ed smiles.

"Would he want one?"

Ed thinks. "I'll find out. I know he's said the only fucking he'd ever do with you would be hatefucking-"

"I'll make another one tonight," Jack grins. "Okay, get going, I'm done keeping you."

"Alright," Ed smiles. "And we're giving you crabs, by the way."

Ed bounces happily off and out the door, and Jack thinks.

Surely, that's not how they would tell someone that. It's how he might, but not Ed and Izzy.

"I may actually have to fuck myself," Izzy mutters, stepping back out of the bedroom. "Can you all believe that?"

"Who are you talking t-" Jack pauses. "Oh. Oh! Crabs! New hermit crabs?"

"Your last three finally died last year," Izzy replies slowly. "We had a funeral for them, remember? You made me sing at it?"

Jack nods. "Ed had said it like... it's actually funny, but I th-you know what? Doesn't matter."

"I'm not singing when these four die," Izzy says. "No matter how sweetly you ask."

"I'll have the sheet music ready for you by then."

"...just fucking get in here."

#text post #THE BASTARD ONE SHOT IS DONE #okay sorry had to get that out anyway #enjoy one of the few v day themed fics I'll probably do #it's silly and immature and until the ending didn't want to be written i enjoyed it!

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parttimepuff · 10 months

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Does Orbee want two beeps for breakfast? Because that’s what they’re getting.

'Not gonna eat Beep!!' Orbee shouted, sticking their tongue out at the anon. "Beeps for breakfast?? Not unless you want breakfast to bite back!" The Matter joked, flashing her teeth for emphasis. "Ha! Heck of a way to start the day off." Magolor chuckled as he checked the base of their Lego tower for any structural weaknesses.

The solosis thought for a moment. 'Can have Beeper Bites for breakfast, though!' Orbee added. The Halcandran paused his inspection to look over at them. "Beeper Bites?" Magolor repeated. "Oh my god Beeper Bites-" Beep reminisced, growing hungry just from the mention. "They’re these really good snacks Luna makes, they’re so gooood! Maybe we can get Rev to let us have some, right, Orbee?" She prompted, her sibling bobbing up and down in agreement. 'Yeah!!! Want a ton!' They exclaimed.

Magolor grinned. It was nice to see Beep bouncing back already. "Maybe when I meet her, she could tell me what's in 'em." He figured. "Yessss." The Matter hummed. Thinking about it, her smile started to falter as something else occurred to her. "…oh, they're talking about Hermit, aren't they?" She realized, face falling. "They, look more like Boop, actually." She mumbled. Despite the very brief time she knew them, she truly missed her dad matter.

'Ooooh, that what Boop look like.' Orbee understood. Magolor paused, concerned by the drop in mood. He wasn't sure who she was talking about, but what was more important to him was that he cheer her up. "Ah… Well, that might be true, but they do sound like you." He pointed out. That caught her attention, thinking on it. "They, they do huh? I didn’t notice that…" Beep admitted.

However, this revelation only confused the solosis more. 'They do? But, they sound low.' Orbee thought, trying to mimic the bass of their voice. The impression brought a half smile back to the Halcandran's face. "Heh, they do have that buzzing when they talk. I guess it's easier to hear the rest of their voice through the hivemind." Magolor assumed, as tenuous as their connection was. "Yeah, it’s kinda all over the place. But, you’re right, kinda like me but, not so Beep." Beep tried to explain, though she couldn't find quite the right words.

#ask #ic #anon #Orbee #Beep #Magolor #Wiz

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sleepless-in-southlands · 2 years

Text

nobody gets out of it

Ao3

Chapter four of This Predacious Song, my multidimensional big bang fic! It’s a Mumbo-centric Hermitcraft/Last Life fic heavily featuring violence, blood, trauma, and horror-like themes. It is hurt/comfort with a happy ending. Please follow the embedded title link or the ao3 link for a complete summary and list of warnings for the story as a whole

Chapter four’s title from Mary Oliver’s “Dogfish”

What Mumbo knew, however, could certainly haunt him.

The smell of melon soon became sickening to him, even as it faded, which only added to the list of reasons Mumbo had to avoid getting injured at any cost. Should one of the hermits see him bleeding- Mumbo didn’t want to think about it.

He wasn’t yet too worried about dealing with fellow player attacks, everyone practicing the common courtesy of not attacking anyone recently returned from death games, but he knew that would only last for so long. And in the meantime, there were still hostile mobs to worry about, and natural causes, and accidents of all kinds. Only in Treesa was he guaranteed protection from it all, and that was at the cost of the melon scent.

Escaping the melon and the smell that truly made him ill kept the other members of Boatem from worrying about him too much, at least. Staying in Treesa too long brought suspicion, something else he had to avoid. He was fine, and he needed them to keep thinking so.

Unfortunately, that was easier hoped for than achieved. The ‘deal’ he had made with Scar had seemed to help somewhat, since he was guessing that Scar had promptly let everyone know Mumbo had at least accepted their thanks for his earlier help. But that only did so much to waylay concern, and Mumbo’s insistence that all was well was getting less effective.

He had tried to work more on his mega-base, the top of the mountain a good place to avoid melons and hermits alike, but it was hard to get much done when he couldn’t bring himself to build any walls higher than a block. He had placed enough torches that the place looked more like a volcano than a mountain, but a two-block high obstruction in his line of sight was just asking for trouble, he knew that.

(He had known that in the LL arena, not Hermitcraft. It didn’t apply here, and he knew that too, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like he did.)

Mumbo had managed to create the illusion of work for a while by laying out more building outlines, trying to make the flat shapes look more time-consuming then they actually were. He had even added more than he wanted, overfilling the mountain with one-note one-block structures. But there was only so much space to fill, and soon he found himself scaling the mountain for no reason other than to hide away on top of it, safe from the stench of anything red and free of the undeserved care of his server mates.

The sound of shoes hitting stone pulled Mumbo out of his thoughts, glancing over to find Grian closing his elytra and approaching him. Usually free of undeserved care.

Granted, at the moment, Mumbo wasn’t doing a very good job of pretending to be busy. He was sitting on the edge of one of his pointless outlines, watching the horizon and doing little else. Grian had likely spotted him while going about his own business and decided it would be a good idea to pay Mumbo a visit. Mumbo couldn’t entirely blame him- if the positions were reversed, he would do the same.

But they weren’t, so it was all fine, because Mumbo was fine.

“Hello, Grian.” Mumbo greeted, hoping that by starting the conversation he might be able to direct it at least a little bit. “Fancy seeing you up here.”

“I wanted to pay you a visit.” Grian replied, and if it was a few weeks earlier, Mumbo would’ve been double-checking behind him every minute Grian was up there, waiting to see the bob of an end crystal at his back, prepared for the explosion, the death, the laughter. As it was, however, it was still hard for him to not look back, even knowing the only primed end crystals were bouncing in his mind, even knowing that no one would laugh this time. “Trouble with your build?”

It was an offer phrased like a question, and a two-fold one as well; asking not only if he wanted Grian’s help with the build, but anything else that Mumbo might be having trouble with. It was indirect, unspecific, non-incriminating, an easy way for Mumbo to say something was wrong without actually saying it.

And for a long minute, Mumbo nearly accepted it. He did need help with his build, after all, and that was all the deniability he needed if he decided Grian took the opportunity to be too worried about him. The only things he would have to admit to were having issues with his mega-base, and just… being tired. He could be fine and tired at the same time, right?

The beginning of a “yes” was right on the tip of his tongue when Grian, who had been slightly shuffling while waiting for Mumbo’s answer, idly glanced behind Mumbo. His gaze was up high enough that Mumbo could tell he was looking out at something far from the mountain, nothing more than a visual distraction, but all that registered for Mumbo was that he still didn’t know what was waiting at his back.

The correct answer, of course, was nothing. Grian wouldn’t pretend to offer Mumbo his help just as a ruse to blow him up. This wasn’t Last Life, and that wasn’t Grian (and even if it was, he worked more with swords, didn’t he? something in Mumbo’s chest was on fire). But he couldn’t be sure without checking, and he couldn’t check without Grian noticing, and he couldn’t let Grian know that anything was off.

“Nope!” Mumbo nearly blurted out, only barely managing to make the response seem genuine. “Er, sorry- I’m just planning out what to do with it all, right? Everything’s going fine.”

Grian didn’t look entirely convinced. Or convinced at all, really. “Are you certain? You seem to have been, um, thinking for a couple of days now.”

Something was crawling down Mumbo’s spine, an inching fear. “There’s just a lot to think about, that’s all.”

“Alright.” Grian said, haltingly. He rocked on his feet, as if he was going to step away but couldn’t quite bring himself too. The sensation pressing into Mumbo’s back started to wrap around the back of his neck, tightening like a hard grip. “Do you mind if I stay and think with you?”

If the circumstances were different, Mumbo would have let him stay. Refusing help was easier than entirely telling someone off. But with every passing second making Mumbo feel more and more certain something was behind him, he just forced a smile instead. “I’m sure you have better things to be doing than ‘thinking’ with me, Grian. It’s fine, the ideas will come soon.”

Grian still didn’t seem satisfied by the situation, but he let out a small sigh in what Mumbo assumed he considered defeat. “I suppose I’ll just let you get back to it then, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Grian nodded, finally turning away from Mumbo and beginning to walk towards the mountain edge. He once again hesitated there, glancing back at Mumbo before Mumbo had the chance to do the same.

“If you… change your mind,” Grian said slowly, as if he wanted to say more, as if he was hoping Mumbo would interrupt him and say something now, “I’m never too busy to spend time with you. For any reason.”

The pressure in Mumbo’s back was starting to press into his lungs, and despite how dearly he appreciated Grian’s (unwarranted) concern, Mumbo needed him to leave. “I promise I’ll keep that in mind.”

Grian hesitated another few excruciating seconds before he finally took off, waving at Mumbo as he opened his elytra once more and flew off in the direction of his base. Mumbo waited a few beats to make sure he was truly gone before he rushed to look behind himself, breath catching in his throat, waiting for there to be something- anything- there.

There wasn’t.

For a moment, Mumbo kept watching the space, as if looking long enough might cause something to appear, might justify his fear. But nothing did, the mountain remaining empty of any threat outside of himself.

Mumbo could only hope against all reasonable hope that no one down below looked up at him right then as he collapsed in on himself, head falling into his hands. He had been right. There was no end crystal waiting to detonate, no silent adversary ready to strike. Everything was fine. He was fine.

Mumbo tried not to think about how he could feel his heart counting out nanoseconds against his chest.

#hermitcraft #last life #mdbb fic #m.y funky words #mfw: this predacious song #chap4: so close yet so far for mumbo's chance to get help

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sxdmoonchxld · 3 years

Text

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room. Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face.

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room.

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function.

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over.

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time.

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice.

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name.

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye.

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!"

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place.

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you.

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you.

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm.

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it.

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you.

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist.

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care.

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage.

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more.

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips.

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward.

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans.

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples.

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking.

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook?

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst.

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls.

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt.

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper.

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

"Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants.

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch.

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror.

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story.

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.'

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock.

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust.

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook. You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix.

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts oneshot #bts smut reactions #bts #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts college au #jungkook college au #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #ao3 #jungkook x reader

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quaranmine · 3 years

Text

New World, New Faces

When the hermits moved to their new world, they were excited to welcome two new members. But maybe one is an old friend instead . . .

Grian hasn't seen Pearl since Evo. It's a shock.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly emotional hurt/comfort, but probably more emphasis on comfort. Hermits: Grian, Pearl, and Mumbo primarily with a little bit of Scar and Xisuma as well. Reblogs appreciated and AO3 link in reblog!

Words: 3893

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These days, Grian was pleased to say that the Watcher’s didn’t occupy his mind nearly as often as they used to. Except on certain late nights where he lay in bed and thought of before, his time was mostly spent having fun--scheming, pranking, building, planning, mining, laughing with friends. It wasn’t something he could forget, but the hermits had become his new home, and as years passed the edges of those memories had dulled a bit.

The other times where the Watchers occupied his mind were update days. Since joining hermitcraft, Grian had gone through several updates with the rest of the server. Sometimes they moved to a new world, and sometimes they stayed in their old one. No portals of bedrock ever appeared, but Grian always thought of them just the same. It always felt like maybe, just maybe, one day he’d turn around and see their signature portals once again.

Watchers didn’t always leave portals to update worlds. Grian hadn’t known that until he’d been put to work as a Watcher himself. Oh, the Watchers were still in charge of updating worlds, but they often did it more subtly, without grand towers and quests for portals. It’s hard to retain status as a myth when everyone knows your calling card, afterall. Admins always knew when it was time to update. Grian hadn't, back on Evo, because he’s always been told.

It turned out Evo had been different, and Grian didn’t know how to feel about that. Evo wasn’t the only world to receive special attention from the Watchers, but it was one of their favorites. Why them, though? Why did the Watchers keep such a close eye on their world in particular? Why were they left towers and clues and prizes and punishments, when other servers were mostly left alone?

Why did they kill everyone and kidnap Grian?

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Grian stood in a group with the other hermits, eagerly waiting for the move to the new world. He bounced a little in anticipation. He was excited for the new update--he knew very little about its contents, but it seemed like there would be some new building blocks to play with, according to Xisuma.

He already had plans for the new world--new bases and new shenanigans. Grian was excited to build close to his friends. Xisuma had informed them that another update would come in a few months, and for the hermits to stick close in the time being so that new land would be freed up for the coming update. Grian had already known about the second update for a while, as all Watchers do, but he let Xisuma handle all of this as admin. Those days were behind him, now, and there was no reason to start exercising Watcher powers in a world that was carrying on just fine on its own.

“Is everyone ready?” Xisuma shouted over the chatter, trying to do a headcount. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, the chatter quieted.

“Looks like it,” said Iskall.

“Good,” Xisuma said. “Now, before we go, I wanted to remind you that we have two new people joining us this time. I’ve already made arrangements with them prior so they’re gonna be waitin’ for us when we go through.” He grinned. “Be on your best behavior for me, alright?”

“I’m always on my best behavior,” Keralis replied, and Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly.

Grian smiled, remembering his welcome to hermitcraft a few years ago. Unlike this time, nobody had been expecting him. Grian hadn’t been invited like these two new hermits had been, he had just been there when the hermits arrived on their new world. None of the other hermits knew quite why he was there, but they’d all accepted him graciously nonetheless.

Grian liked that memory. The truth is, he’d fled the Watchers and picked an uninhabited world at random, not realizing it had already been reserved by Xisuma. That was a failure on his part as a Watcher, because he was supposed to know about stuff like that. But he had been too busy running to worry about it and besides, there was nobody on hermitcraft to punish him.

The hermits had welcomed him with kindness and made him part of their family. Now he’d gladly do the same for these new soon-to-be hermits.

“Okay . . .” Xisuma said, typing something into his admin panel. “I’m just setting up the portal now.”

They were all gathered in the shopping district, right in front of the Town Hall. Grian took his chance to take one last glance around at the world. The diamonds in the trees glittered in the morning light, sending little reflective shards of light scattered on the ground. Moving worlds was always bittersweet, because it meant parting with the things he’d worked hard on and the places he’d made memories at. But it was also one of his favorite things to do, because it gave everyone a blank slate to work with, sparking endless new creativity.

“I wish I could take some of those with me,” chuckled Scar, as he walked up next to where Grian was standing. He pointed at the diamonds.

“Well of course you want them, Mr Mayor!”

“Uh-uh,” Scar said. “I’m not the Mayor anymore! This is a new world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we get up to in the next one, huh?” Grian asked. “Do you have any plans?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Scar teased.

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t know,” said Grian. He thought for a moment. “I might make a cave base. I guess I’m waiting to see what’s out there for inspiration before I start.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Scar replied. “Oh! It looks like Xisuma is ready.”

Grian looked up, to see X opening a portal. It wasn’t a nether portal, nor was it like an End portal. It wasn’t a Watcher portal either, but an Admin one. Grian had come to realize that Watchers supplied Admins with the means to move into updates on their own when they wanted to. The bedrock portals and scavenger hunts were reserved for their favorite worlds--their toys.

Sometimes the Watchers liked to flex their powers, but the universe is not kept running smoothly if all your time is spent flexing. Grian brushed away the thought, choosing to focus on his friends in front of him instead.

One by one, the hermits stepped through the portal, which swirled light blue and hovered just slightly off the ground. Grian hung back, wanting to be one of the last ones through. He wanted to make sure everyone made it through alright, but Xisuma had to be the very last person, since he needed to close the portal. When it was finally his turn, he gave Xisuma a smile and walked forward.

Grian stepped through, into the bright sunlight of a village, and was surrounded by the voices of his friends.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Spawn was a village in a grassland, next to a swamp and overlooking the ocean. It looked a little plain, but the hermits hadn’t left their mark on the world yet. Behind Grian, Xisuma stepped out into the new world and the portal vanished behind him.

Everybody was crowded around a ditch chattering, apparently exchanging greetings with the two new hermits that stood inside it. Grian held back for a moment, taking it in and basking in the sounds of his friends’ voices. Finally, he wasn’t the new one anymore--a few people had rejoined the server in the last world, but they’d all been old friends, not new ones. That had left him being the most recent addition, not that anything felt like it was recent anymore.

Grian was already thinking of ways to prank the new hermits and draw them into the life of the server.

“Alright Mumbo!” Xisuma said. Grian grinned. Mumbo was supposed to introduce them. Mumbo, of course, didn’t know this, because where’s the fun in that?

“Oh-oh me?”

“It’s go time!” Cleo said.

“This is it!” said Xisuma.

“I’ve clearly very obviously been put up to this,” Mumbo started. “And because everyone thought it’d be much funnier to have me bumble through it without really knowing what I’m talking about, and that is definitely going to be the case!”

The hermits chuckled. Grian walked around the back of the group to try to catch a glimpse of the new people below.

“We do have two new hermits,” Mumbo said, “down in this crevice.”

Grian caught a glimpse of red and brown hair.

“GeminiTay-”

Grian’s world stopped and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her brown hair spilled out from behind a black hoodie.

But she’s dead.

Was this some sort of cruel trick from the universe?

“-and PearlescentMoon.” The rest of the hermits cheered at the announcement, giving the new members a warm welcome. Grian said nothing, his mind spinning a mile a minute.

There was no way it was actually her. The Watchers . . . the Watchers had killed her, and every other Evolutionist. Grian didn’t know why. He would never know why, because with the Watchers it was always “you can’t possibly understand.”And Grian couldn’t. When Grian had finally escaped them, he tried to go back to Evo. It was a foolish attempt, one that would certainly have endangered the lives of anyone there, but nobody had been left there and the buildings were all destroyed and overgrown with vines and Grian had been forced to conclude the heavy truth that all of his old friends were gone.

He didn’t remember what he did after that. He just ran.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Pearl? Is that really you?”

She turned, hearing her name and--it was. It was her. Her hair had blonde highlights around the bangs now, but he’d recognize her anywhere, like her face and the faces of all the other Evolutionists were seared into his brain.

“. . . Grian?”

Grian just stared.

The other hermits had caught onto their mini debacle, and were watching them. “Grian, do you know her?” Mumbo asked.

“Y-yeah, I do,” he stammered.

“Grian?” Pearl shouted, and in an instant had scrambled up the ditch. She stopped in front of him, face pale and eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, maybe he’d died the day they took him from Evo.

“Pearl,” he whispered.

Suddenly she threw her arms around Grian in a hug and squeezed. “Oh, it’s been so long,” she said, voice muffled.

Grian froze, but slowly reciprocated the hug. He felt numb and like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time, hands shaking, but Pearl’s warm embrace drew him back down to reality.

Pearl pulled away, blinked tears from her eyes and met Grian’s stare. Then, her gaze drifted further down, landing on his folded wings that peaked out just above his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke a feather. “What happened to you?” she asked softly.

“I thought you were dead,” Grian said by way of answer.

“Well, I’m not,” Pearl said, and for a moment Grian almost didn’t believe her, and grabbed her wrist tightly, just to see if it was real. Pearl let him. “They took you,” she said.

Grian just looked at the ground, uncomfortably aware of how many people were watching him. Ironic, almost--he didn’t want them watching him so that they wouldn’t know about the Watchers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the hermits. He did. He’d trust them all with his life a thousand times. He just . . . didn’t want to explain. The hermits were a good bunch. The unspoken rule was that you didn’t ask about anyone’s past unless they spoke first, and Grian knew they’d abide by that for him as well. But he could do without the turned heads.

“Alright everyone!” Xisuma shouted suddenly, startling Grian. ��Let’s go, let’s get to work, this season won’t start itself!” Slowly, the hermits began to disperse, branching off into groups. “How’re ya gonna start the season if you don't chop down a tree? I’ll get to work protecting these villagers.”

Xisuma threw a glance over to them, and Grian mouthed a thank you. Xisuma just nodded, and left them alone. Grian was overwhelmed with relief at the admin’s gesture.

He turned back to Pearl.

“I-I can’t believe you’re actually here,”Grian said. He smiled and the moment he met her gaze, his eyes began to blur with tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried. “When we got back from fighting the enderdragon you . . . you were just gone. They left a note for us . . . said it was necessary for you to be taken. All in rhyme, of course.”

“Of course it was in rhyme . . .'' Grian muttered, suddenly very angry. All the Watchers and their unknowable ways, always distilled down to some pithy saying. A life-changing event relayed to his friends in another stupid little poem. He’d written a few himself and despised it.

“I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Do you . . . do you mind if I ask what happened?” Pearl asked. “I’m just happy to see you here but I-”

“No, it’s alright,” Grian said with a sigh. “They took me after I fought the enderdragon, and said I was going to be one of them. I didn’t want to go but-well what could I do? So I went with them, and they promised to let me hang around the server. They lied to me, they never let me Watch Evo.” Grian paused, and felt the cool trail of a tear dripping down his cheek. “They later told me you were all dead.”

“Oh, Grian,” Pearl said, and pulled him into another hug, and that was it for him. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just a lot-”

“I know, I know,” she whispered.

“They-they . . . I didn’t enjoy it there. So I, I ran away. I tried to visit Evo but--there was nobody there. I figured they told the truth then, that you really were dead. I ran and found the hermits and I’ve been living with them every since, and oh they’re so wonderful but I could never forget-”

“It’s okay.” Pearl comforted. “I know, I know. We came home after finding the dragon and our place was ransacked, and we were given instructions to leave. And . . . eventually after we left, the group disbanded and we went our separate ways. But, we’re all alive.”

“Really?” Grian asked.

“Yes.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I- can I see them?” he whispered. It felt forbidden.

“Of course!” Pearl exclaimed. “I’ve kept in touch with everyone, I’m sure Xisuma could help you visit if you asked.”

“Xisuma . . .” Grian thought aloud. “I haven’t told him,” Grian admitted. The admin certainly knew something was up with Grian, because players didn’t normally randomly appear in worlds they weren’t supposed to, but he’d welcomed Grian with open arms to the server and never asked a single question.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would, but Pearl, I don’t want to put anyone in danger! I’m not supposed to be here!” Grian hissed.

“So then don’t tell him everything. Just say you want to visit some people. He’ll understand, I know he will,” she replied. Grian pondered it for a moment. She was right--he could just ask to visit someone. Other hermits did it all the time. Maybe--maybe a few server hops wouldn’t cause a problem. Maybe this was something within his reach, after all this time. The thought exhilarated him.

“But please,” Pearl added. “Please tell someone else, not just me. How long have you been hiding?”

Too long.

Grian didn’t answer, and the two of them stood there and listened to the crash of the waves on the nearby shoreline. The air was hot and salty, and in the distance he could hear Xisuma opening and closing doors in the village.

He didn’t know what he felt, it was like too many emotions had happened in too short of a period of time and left him burned out like a forest after a wildfire. His hands had stopped trembling, but he felt deeply tired.

Happy. You feel happy.

Grian’s communicator chimed from within his pocket. He withdrew it.

GoodTimeWithScar > Grian: are you okay

Grian smiled, and typed a response.

Grian > GoodTimeWithScar: yes

“Who was that?” Pearl asked.

“Scar. He wanted to know if I was okay.”

“Are you?”

Grian met her eyes. “I am now.” It was close enough to the truth. Grian shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly restless and tired from trying to process all this new information. “Speaking of other hermits, we should get going, yeah? We can’t let them get all the resources without us!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. The hermits had already spread out seeking resources, but not too far yet; Grian and Pearl could still see several of them talking to each other across the field.

“Pearl, before you go--” Grian started, looking serious. “Build next to me, alright? I...I want you to be around.”

“I promise,” she replied.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

“Why are you following me?” Grian knew why, but he wanted Mumbo to bring it up. He was torn--on one hand, he truly appreciated his friend’s concern. It was nice that others were looking out for him, a warm reminder of what their little community stood for. On the other hand . . . he’d really have just appreciated being left alone.

“You look like you have a purpose!” Mumbo exclaimed instead.

Huh.

Grian shook his head. “I’m just heading north,” he replied, shielding his eyes and looking up to see the position of the sun.

“I was just like, ‘Man, it looks like he knows where he’s going,’” Mumbo continued and Grian laughed.

They walked to the edge of the swamp, and began to cut down the trees. Starter tools were a necessity in a new world, and they had no stone.

“Ugh, I have to take down this whole tree, and then I have to replant it,” complained Mumbo.

“Wait-why have you got to replant it?” asked Grian incredulously, while getting wood for himself and not replanting the tree.

“Well I-I can’t just deforest things!”

This is going to be SO much fun to tease Mumbo with.

“Whatever you say, tree boy.”

They continued to work, getting wood, and then venturing into a shallow cave to get stone. The whole time their coms kept buzzing, buzzing, buzzing with combat death messages. Just another day in the hermitcraft world, thought Grian. Have they declared a spontaneous war up there? Either way, Pearl and Gem were getting the full introduction today, he thought with a chuckle.

Exiting the cave, they spotted a shipwreck not too far away, and decided to explore it. Grian pulled out a soggy buried treasure map, and they decided to go after it in a boat. Grian wanted to relax in the boat, to just breathe in the sea spray and try to calm his still-racing thoughts, but unfortunately Mumbo was the driver, and he was not a very good driver if you asked Grian. Grian had been tasked with navigation, which was a difficult thing when the driver couldn’t see the map you were describing.

The loot was good, and they divided it between themselves and then struck onward in the boat, this time with Grian commandeering the vessel. They looped back around to the shipwreck only to find a group of hermits that were a little too late to the prize. Pearl, Ren, and Doc were gathered around the boat looking a bit disappointed.

Mumbo and Grian decided to taunt them.

“Who got the loot?” shouted Ren.

“We got the loot!” Grian shouted back.

“Oh it was you guys,” said Pearl. Grian stuck his tongue out at her and cackled.

They looped back around to show off the Heart of the Sea, but Mumbo dropped their only diamond by accident and that was when Grian decided to steer the boat away before they lost any more valuables.

“I can’t believe you dropped the diamond,” Grian sighed.

“I was flexing too hard, I’m sorry!” cried Mumbo.

It was too comical, and Grian couldn’t be mad at his friend. They rowed on, closely following the coastline. After a few minutes, however, Mumbo asked a question.

“The new hermit, who we just saw with Doc and Ren--Pearl--is it. . . is it okay if I ask how you know her?” Mumbo spoke gently, knowing he was treading around a potentially sensitive topic. Grian knew the topic would have come up eventually, after he’d basically had a breakdown in public when he saw her.

Grian stopped the boat, and looked into the water, not at Mumbo’s face. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask. We used to be on a world together. The . . . the world I was at before I came here, actually.” It wasn’t the full truth, since he’d been to many worlds as a Watcher and had lived on the Watchers’ world for a while. But Evo had been his last home.

“Oh,” said Mumbo.

“We were friends,” continued Grian. “We were close. But I was told she was dead. Clearly, though,” he just simply gestured instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clearly she’s not dead,” Mumbo finished. “I see. Who told you she was dead?”

“Someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart.” Grian had never fully told his friend about what had happened before he joined hermitcraft, but the other man knew that it was a difficult past and had comforted him on more than one occasion--mostly after he’d first joined and the pain was still fresh. It had dulled with time and Grian had become more and more adjusted to his new life.

Seeing Pearl again was a miracle, but it sure sharpened the pain.

Grian rested his elbows on the side of the boat and pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes. “It wasn’t just her, either, they told me everyone on the server was dead. And-they’re all alive. All of them. It’s fantastic news, brilliant news, I’m just-”

“Thinking of the people who didn’t have your best interests at heart?”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo laid a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “I don’t know who they are,” he began, “but I know they’re not here now. You have us now, and you have Pearl here too. That all is in the past.”

Grian stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight sparkled and danced over the waves. “You’re a good friend, you know that right?”

“Well, I do try to be,” Mumbo chuckled. “Now-I think we should probably go pick up Scar over there, I think the poor man is going to drown!”

“Oh no!” Grian said, and scrambled for the oars, and then they were off.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

When Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo created the Boatem Pole, Pearl was there to join them.

When Grian woke up in his makeshift camp the next morning, he was happy to see Pearl setting up her own starter base on the other side of the Boatem Pole.

When Grian showed up at Xisuma’s base two days later, he asked for permission to visit other servers.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #grian #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft fanfic #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft season 8 #quara fanfic

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justletmeplayminecraft · 3 years

Text

Moving Day

it's the day that comes at the end of every season. and yet, somehow, the hermits still get caught off guard by it.

featuring: hermit ensemble, slice of life fluff, imagine moving houses but like every year and a half, werewolf!ren, something!joe, artic fox!etho, he is vaguely developed, there's pretty much no plot, just fluff, an ode to the end of this season

"Zed, you're gonna be late!" Tango calls as he drops in through the ceiling. With a bang, a mop of blond hair pokes out of the central storage. Zed rubs his head, pulling himself up.

"You're the one who distracted me with the Create world!" He replies, hauling a bag up the ladder with him. Tango laughs, throwing it over his shoulder as Zed flops onto the stone ground.

"Sure I was, it's not like you brought it up." Zed huffs, rolling his eyes. He holds his hands up towards Tango, who laughs. "Oh, you want to go over my shoulder too?" He teases.

"You are insufferable," Zed mutters, pushing off the stone himself instead. The cold is starting to seep through his cardigan.

"Have you packed everything?" Tango asks. Zed holds his fingers up to count off.

"Yes, I've checked everything four times! Maybe five, actually. I don't think there's anything left." Zed looks back at the ladders, closing his fist. Tango examines the pile of bags, humming.

"So you're sure you don't want me or Impulse to check for you?" Zed's mouth opens.

"Actually, can you check anyway?" He asks, "You know, just in case!" Tango laughs, giving Zed's shoulder a bump.

"Of course we will. But let's move these before Xisuma forgets them." Zed nods, quick to grab some of the bags. He heaves them up, almost buried under them.

"Season eight here we come!"

"You two!" Doc calls, scooping up the white fox before he manages to rush past him. Ren very nearly runs straight into his legs. The wolf sits down, ears twitching as he stares at Etho. Etho sticks his tongue out, Doc struggling to keep a hold on the silky fur. "You two aren't helping, you know that?" Ren barks, tail wagging. "Yeah, yeah."

With a wiggle, Etho manages to slip out of Doc's arms. He jumps up, curling around his shoulders instead and getting comfortable. Doc sighs. He bats Etho's shawl out of his face, ignoring the amused chitter. Counting, he finds most of his bags already in his ender chest. Luckily, because the two animals playing around him are making it difficult. Unlike-

"Doc," Bdubs cries, "Have you seen my razor?" Bdubs doesn't even bother with the door. Doc looks down at him on the lawn.

"Have you checked your half?" He asks.

Bdubs throws a hand up, "Of course I've checked my half, but Keralis tried to drag me into packing all his junk so I had to make a speedy escape!" Doc chuckles, watching as Ren jumps down to nose at Bdubs' hand. "Oh, hello, Ren!" Bdubs jumps into baby-talk immediately, crouching down. "Fancy you being here!"

"Please, take him-" Doc waves, "-The two of them keep running through my feet." Bdubs strokes through the fluff of Ren's neck, glancing up and spotting Etho.

"Oh, Etho as well!" Bdubs waves. Etho yips in reply, ear twitching. Then Bdubs pauses, looking at Ren properly. "Ah-ha, Snips! Of course, right-" Bdubs jumps up, "Thanks guys, I'll see you at the town hall!" Doc looks at Ren as Bdubs runs off.

"You going with him?" He asks. Ren's tail wags, staring at Doc. He sighs. "Right, of course not." Doc picks Etho off his shoulder, dropping him on the floor to a surprised squeak. "If only there was a way to attach some bags to the two of you." Both animalmits freeze, sharing a look with each other. Doc can't help but feel satisfied as they scarper towards the nearest nether portal together. "Perfect." He can finish packing in peace.

"Do you think you've got everything?" Wels asks, perched on a chest. Beef hauls his bag out the door with a huff.

"Well, I've got you. That's half the challenge." He looks up in time to see Wels rolling his eyes, pushing his helmet up.

"I take it back, I'm not helping you anymore."

Beef laughs, clapping Wels' arm, "We've still got Three Fox Hole to look through, you're not going anywhere yet." Wels' lips twist into a pout, crossing his arms.

"You know, when I packed early, it wasn't with the intention of doing your packing for you," he replies. But, when Beef holds out a bag, he still takes it.

"And I appreciate it!" Beef grins at him. "Maybe I'll reward you with some of my finest wallpaper-"

"Oh, please no." Wels' eyes are wide, staring in mock horror. "I might never recover."

"Oh, blackmail works too, then." Beef stands, walking past him. Wels slips off the chest, frozen in place.

"Beef- Beef, are you joking?" Beef keeps walking. Wels runs after him. "Beef!"

"Thanks for heading out this far, man," xB says, smiling at Keralis. "I know you've got a big space to cover too."

"Ah, it's nice taking a break," Keralis replies, holding one of xB's bags in his arms. "And I know there's no way this would all fit in your ender chest, princess." xB chuckles, looking at the half-folded clothes, trinkets, and daily essentials all sorted into piles.

"Yeah-" he scrubs the back of his neck. "-I kinda forget I've got so much. Too used to my travel bag." Keralis bounces the one in his arms.

"Well, it's a good job you've got me!" He bumps into xB's side, barely knocking the other hermit off balance. "I can always lend you some extra bags if you need them."

"The luggage dimension is just going to be my stuff at this rate," xB jokes.

"Oh, you haven't seen how much I have yet." They both laugh, Keralis putting the bag down with the rest that have been packed. "Now, what are we doing next?" xB turns to observe his piles.

"I think that one," he decides. Keralis nods, skipping across.

"Then let's go, we don't want to be late!"

"Cub!" Scar's voice calls down the pyramid. "I cannot believe this." Cub turns to see Scar walking along the corridor, wings fluttering in annoyance behind him. "Xisuma says my crystals aren't essential items so I can't take them. That's so unfair." Cub laughs before he can stop himself, getting an affronted noise from Scar. "Cub! I come here, I confide in you-"

"Scar," Cub interrupts, squeezing Scar's arm. Vex magic sparks around them, electrifying the air. "You could make some once we're in the next world."

"It's not the same!" Scar protests. Cub leans closer.

"Or," he whispers, "We could sneak some across ourselves."

"Oh." Scar claps his hands together. "Now you're speaking my language."

"The language of crime?" Cub asks, calling one of his bags over to him. He catches it mid-air.

"The only language I know!"

"This is why you should've made a proper storage system!" Mumbo cries, as Grian pulls out the contents of another chest. "This could've been so much easier!"

"I didn't know it was this bad!" Grian replies, finally managing to find his towels buried in an unmarked chest. He throws them towards his 'to pack' pile, Mumbo jumping out of the way.

"Didn't you have weeks to prepare for this?" He asks, looking at the scattered items in dismay.

"I mean- I did host an entire world in-between," Grian reminds him. Mumbo hums in agreement, deciding to organise some of the piles before they end up vanishing into a pure mess. He looks for similarities amongst the items, beginning to sort them into manageable groups.

Mumbo's lucky he thought to get all his essentials together ahead of time. He gave his luggage to Xisumavoid to store, and he knows it's all taken care of. It didn't stop him from checking his base another ten times, but he's pretty sure he's got everything now. Pretty sure.

He's going to end up checking his base again later, isn't he?

"Grian?" Mumbo asks, pausing as he notices something. The rummaging through chests stops, with only a quiet thud & 'ow' before Grian is looking at him.

"Yeah?" He replies.

"Do you… actually have any bags?"

"Ahhhh," Grian's face turns a similar scarlet to his jumper. "You see, Mumbo, last season, I kinda… borrowed some."

"Borrowed, right." Mumbo sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Were you ever going to buy your own?"

"Yes!" Grian replies, words fast. "I just. Never had time." Mumbo's had most of his bags since he joined, so he guesses he can't relate. Pretty much all the hermits gifted him one. Otherwise, he would've never remembered at that age, but that's its own problem. It's a good job he remembers the essentials even now.

"So, how do you intend on packing all this?"

Grian hums, "Do you think I could just shove it in there loose?"

"I'll go find some bags," Mumbo decides. And something to help his headache...

"How many cats do you think I could smuggle to the next server?" Cleo asks, holding up another of her kittens to Joe. Joe hums thoughtfully, bright green hair moving on its own accord.

"Well, I've certainly smuggled a few of my dogs inside myself." Cleo takes a deep breath, transferring her kitten to one hand so she can pinch her nose.

"Right, of course you have." She's long learnt to stop questioning how Joe works. She's a living zombie, he's Joe. At least it makes packing easier. "I think I might take some of them to my own world, this time," she muses. "Xisuma can do that, right?"

"I'm sure he can," Joe agrees. "If not, I will have a mass exodus of animals from the server." Cleo sighs, rolling her eyes. She sets the kitten down gently amongst the other cats.

"Right, are you actually going to help me carry my bags?"

"Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to stop you losing an arm?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." She still can't believe that happened. First, her arm falling off, then nearly losing it amongst everybody's luggage? So embarrassing. She enters the main room of her base, where she's already got her bags set out. It's surprising how many skincare products you need when you're dead. Joe follows, looking around as if he doesn't know the place like the back of his hands. To be fair, Cleo would be surprised if anybody knew the back of Joe's hands.

"Right, I've shoved as much as I can in my ender chest. If you put what you can in yours, we can divide the remainder up," she lays out the action plan.

"Sounds perfect!" Joe picks up two bags. "Are you sure you don't just want me to transport them over?"

"Keep your true self off my stuff, Joe, you know what happened last time."

Joe sighs, "Fine, fine. We'll do this the human way."

"You'll do this the human way," she amends. "I'll do it the zombie way."

"Stress, it's only a spider," Iskall says, pointing his sword towards it. Said spider is standing triumphantly on top of her bags, red eyes glinting. Stress pokes around the doorway, brown hair falling across her face.

"Yeah, but it's a spider on me stuff!"

"You've fought worse than spiders!"

"Just get rid of it, Iskall!" He sighs. Readying himself for a fight, he crosses across the room, stamping his foot in front of the pile. The spider hisses, sharp fangs a warning. But when the creature jumps, Iskall's sword is there to meet it, throwing the spider to the ground where it disappears into twinkling orbs.

"Look, was that so hard?" Iskall asks, his hand on his hip as he looks back at her. Stress bounces in, grinning.

"It wasn't, was it? Guess I don't need to thank you, then!" Iskall rolls his eyes, slipping his sword back into his inventory.

"Like you don't need to thank me for helping carry your stuff?"

"Oh, I'll thank you for that." Iskall laughs, grabbing the strap of two bags and throwing them over his shoulder.

"How many trips do you think we'll need?" He asks, seeing her haul two up herself. Stress hums, observing the pile.

"Prob'ly only two or three. If we get started soon then we'll get done faster, too." Iskall can hear the teasing tone in her voice.

"Aren't you the one that was scared of a spider?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about!" She calls, walking past him. Iskall shakes his head, smiling fondly before rushing after her.

"Hey TFC!" False calls, touching down at his base. She smiles at the sight of his usual suitcases, already neatly packed and organized. Everything's labelled in TFC's signature handwriting to boot. Far more planned out than her, she's gotta say. But that's a problem for the next world.

"False, what can I help you with?" TFC's smile is always nice to see. She flicks her elytra closed, waving.

"I came to ask you that, actually," she replies. "Wanted to know if you'd like help carrying things over. I did all my packing a few weeks back, so I'm kinda bored." And if she stays still for too long, X will probably try to rope her into admin duties. Sure, she knows the basics, but she doesn't want to be responsible for anybody's stuff going missing. Not her department.

"Well, I'm never going to turn down some extra hands," TFC replies. He walks over and pats the suitcases on the left. "These are all ready to go, I'm still finishing up with the others. Has Xisuma already started?"

"I think he was just finishing the pocket dimension, so you've still got a little while." The hermits always rush to be the first in, as if everybody's stuff won't fit. In False's opinion, being last is best. It's easier to get your things out when they're closer to the entrance.

"Good, good. Let him know I'm nearly finished, would you?"

False nods, saluting with one hand and picking up a suitcase with the other, "Will do!"

Hypno walks into Jevin's base to find him and Impulse slotting the last few items into boxes. He knows Jevin was mostly packed already, so it's nice Impulse has come to help out. But… Jevin might just be taking advantage of Impulse. Hypno won't think too much into it.

"X has finished setting up," he calls, not needing an introduction. Jevin twists to look at him, Impulse busy trying to fit a label on straight.

"So you're saying I'm late?" Jevin asks. Hypno chuckles, deciding to join them on the floor.

"You know what the rush is like to get stuff in. You'll be fine for a little while." Hypno shrugs, "After Wels, X'll probably be careful." Impulse nods, sitting back now the label of 'hoodies' is attached.

"I've already handed my stuff in," Impulse says, "I think False might have too? We both finished up pretty early."

"Yeah, there was a lot in the town hall ready to be moved." Hypno wonders if the hermits are getting more prepared for this. Somehow, he doubts it.

"So, you've come to help me carry these over?" Jevin asks, Hypno looks at the boxes, shrugging.

"With all three of us, it should only be two trips, right?" There are only five boxes, and two are pretty small anyway.

"That's the spirit!" Impulse calls, grinning. "Do you think you're all ready to go?"

"Yep, I think that's everything," Jevin decides. He pats a box, making more of a squelching sound. Hypno does his best not to laugh.

"Then let's get moving!"

Xisuma sighs as his visor adjusts to filter out the sunlight. Coding that in was a stroke of genius. It used to be such a nightmare to continuously adjust between the pocket dimension and hermitcraft. He looks at the stacked luggage to be moved, trying to figure out if there's more there than before. He swears there is. And they didn't even say hi when they dropped it off! Rude.

He jumps when something nudges the back of his knees, sending him stumbling forward. Turning, he finds Ren, his tail wagging proudly behind him.

"Oh! Hello there." He reaches down, giving Ren a scratch behind the ears. "Are you planning to change back before we move?" Ren barks in reply. "I'll pretend that's yes."

Turning, he sees a white tail flicking over blue diamonds. Of course, those two are together. Etho's curled up in the sun, black eyes watching the pair. One ear is stuck up, the other flopped lazily.

"You two aren't going to help me carry things in, are you?" X asks, sighing as he looks back at Ren.

"I think Ren forgot to leave a spare pair of clothes out, actually," Etho says, legs dangling off the throne. He's tugging his shawl over his nose now he's in human form. Or, as human as Etho gets. "And his outfit may have experienced some... unfortunate circumstances." Xisuma looks at Ren's sad eyes, shaking his head at the pair of them.

"And those didn't involve you in any way?" X asks Etho with what he thinks is an appropriate amount of suspicion in his voice. Etho holds his hands up, leaning back in a way that would have most people falling over.

"Are you accusing me, Xisuma?"

"I don't know, am I, Ren?" Ren gives a concise nod. Etho gasps, clutching over his heart.

"Betrayed by my own brethren!" Etho cries. Ren's tail is wagging, betraying his otherwise neutral expression.

"Come and help me carry things, you," X says, calling Etho over. "We'll be here for another month if you don't." Etho laughs, but jumps off the side of the throne, landing with barely a thud.

"What are we moving, bossman?" Etho asks. Xisuma surveys the piles.

"Mumbo's stuff next, I think," X decides, "He usually takes a while to unpack." Etho nods, following X's lead as they grab a bag and box respectively.

"So this is what you guys do at the end of the season?" Etho asks, Ren trotting along with them. Xisuma hums as he enters the pocket dimension, finding an open space at the back of the room.

"Yep, this is moving day," he explains. "I always try my best to make it easy for the hermits, but it doesn't often end up working." Etho chuckles, placing the bag on top of X's box.

"Seems like most people aren't done yet," Etho agrees.

"They'll get there," Xisuma replies. The hermits always do eventually.

They're just stepping out of the portal when a voice calls, "I'm not late am I?!" X scruffs Ren's neck, smiling at Zed, who's running over with far too many bags thrown over his back.

"Not at all, friend," he reassures him. Zed drops his bags, bent over and panting. Tango strolls up behind him far more leisurely.

"See, Zed, I said you wouldn't be!" Zed whips in his direction.

"Oh, you, mister 'oh Zed you're going to be late, we're all going to leave you behind', you-" Tango laughs, fluffing Zed's hair as he sets his bags down. They take the rest of his luggage out of the ender chest Xisuma left specifically for this purpose. Beef and Wels walk up together as they do, Xisuma waving to them.

"Beefers!" Etho says, grinning.

"Hey Etho, Tango, Zed, Xisuma." Beef pauses, "Oh, and a Ren!"

"Hey guys!" Wels simplifies, dropping his bags at the doors. "This should be everything from us."

"Perfect!" Xisuma nods, "You guys okay to help me carry things through?"

"Yeah, we can help out!" "That's cool with me."

Moving things goes a lot faster with five of them helping to carry things through. Xisuma just catches Impulse, Jevin and Hypno dropping one lot off, getting a frantic wave before the trio is rushing off again. The pocket dimension is quickly filling up with bags and boxes, the hermits a constant line as they drop in and out. Xisuma frequently checks, but it seems like the dimension is handling the pressure okay.

"Xisuma!" Joe calls, him and Cleo wandering up the town hall's stairs. By this point, Cub and Scar have joined them with TFC, False, Stress and Iskall all dropping things off too.

"Good to see you both," X greets, one of Wels' bags hugged in his arms. He turns away, before hesitating, something nagging the back of his mind. After a second of focus- "Joe, why do you have so many hitboxes inside you?"

"Ah, that's nothing you have to worry about, dear admin." Xisuma gives him a long look and decides this isn't a battle he's going to pick.

"As long as you're willing to help out," he says, instead. "We're only waiting for a few people. He takes a look at the gathered hermits. Cleo's now lying on the floor, Ren beside her. His tail is already wagging again. Cub is picking a box up, whilst Scar skips through the portal holding three bags with magic. Etho's chatting to Tango and Zed as they work.

"Of course! We'll be finished in no time." It's already taken most of the day, but X doesn't need to mention that. He sets his vision back to normal, does another check of the pocket dimension, and returns to carrying boxes.

The remaining hermits trickle in as the sun sets. Stress and Beef sort out dinner for everyone, Xisuma making sure the last of the luggage is safe.

"Wait!" A few heads turn at Grian's cry, heavy footsteps rushing up to town hall. "I- I've got my stuff." Xisuma blinks at the sight of the hermit carrying about four bags at once. One is bright pink.

"You're not too late," X reassures him. "You can just drop it in, there should be room." He's settled into a shaded corner, preparing for the process of safely moving over twenty players. And Joe. If he's being honest, the data is starting to give him a headache. But it'll be worth it once they're all in their new world. Their temporary 'in-between' world is already set up. Somewhere for them all to stay whilst he handles the switch over. Most of the hermits take the time to visit friends or do other projects during that, anyway.

"Thanks, X," Grian says, between gasps. He runs into the portal, X laughing softly to himself. Mumbo walks up a few minutes later, glancing at the group.

"Is Grian in there?" He asks. Before X can even reply, about four hermits are giving an affirmative. "Thanks, guys!" Mumbo heads in after, only two bags in tow. X watches, well-aware of the fondness in his chest. It's a good reminder of just what he does this for.

It's another hour until everything's ready. The sun is hanging over the horizon (Xisuma may have frozen the day cycle a while back.) X has watched warily as they've shared food, chatted, played games (including one very dramatic wink murder. He's not sure what happened in Grian's server, and he's not sure he wants to ask.) But now, they've all gathered around, watching as Xisuma enters the final commands.

"Okay, everybody here knows the drill. Stay with somebody else, I want to do a headcount on the other side, then you're all free to wander." He projects his voice, the hermits hushing to listen. "Is everybody ready?"

"Yeah!" "Born ready!" "We've been ready for hours!" "Is there food on the other side?"

X shakes his head. With a final press of the enter key, the portal opens in front of the diamond throne. There's a collective murmur of anticipation.

"Alright, you lot can head through. I'll join you in half an hour, max." He can't even make out words following that. TFC and False are first, walking through with a wave to the others. Stress and Iskall run after them. The rest of the hermits take their time. Some share hugs, some take a last look at the horizon. And Xisuma watches over it all, determined every single one of his hermits will make it safely through.

"X?" Impulse calls. He and Hypno are standing together. The town hall feels so much emptier now the hermits are gone. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Xisuma promises. "All standard procedure. I'll see you soon." They nod, sharing a last smile.

"Okay then. Stay safe, X."

"You two as well. Try and keep the others from misbehaving until I get there."

Hypno laughs, "No promises."

And like that, Xisuma's alone. He sighs, sinking back against the diamond throne. The sun casts golden beams over the land. This has been… a good season. They all are, but. Xisuma smiles as he sets the tick speed of the world to zero, freezing it in time. He thinks next season will be something special. It only takes fifteen minutes to finish his commands, the rest he needs to do on the other side.

"Goodbye, old friend." He pats the diamond throne. With a look over the eerily still shopping district, he sighs. It really is the hermits that fill a world with life, isn't it? "To more admin work," he murmurs, before laughing at himself.

"Shishwam?" Xisuma jumps, clutching his chestplate.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me." Keralis giggles. He's waiting in front of the portal, hands in his pockets. "I thought you went through."

"Well..." Keralis starts, "Somebody said we needed to go through the portal with someone else. And then I thought of a certain admin going through alone..." Xisuma laughs, shaking his head. He joins Keralis, swirling colours reflecting off his armour.

"Of course you did." He takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm ready to go." Keralis wraps his arm around Xisuma's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"You've done a good job this season, Shishwammy. I hope you know that." Xisuma sneaks one last look out the doorway before they leave this world behind.

"Yeah." He smiles. "I think I do."

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #my writing #catch me last minute changing the entire ending #but im easing myself back into writing #and what better than a homage to the changing of seasons?

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

supernova, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader, mentions of seokjin x reader

summary: Kim Taehyung is your best friend. Considering him as anything more was asking for a collapsed relationship. You two were just two points in the sky, side by side, always shining together. Stars aren’t meant to collide, right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (m-receiving oral, nipple play, fingering); non-idol!AU; supposed to be crack but, uh, I failed; yes there is a reference to that confused-lady-doing-math meme lol

You were having the stupidest argument of your life with your best friend.

“Obviously I know how to suck dick!”

Kim Taehyung nearly spit his soda everywhere.

“How the fuck,” he sputtered, coughing. “Would you ever know how to suck dick?”

You rolled your eyes. “Duh, I learned, of course.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows so high that they disappeared into his dark brown bangs. “From who? You kind of need a boyfriend to suck dick.”

“No, you don’t,” you retorted.

Taehyung blinked at you. “I can’t imagine who would let you within ten feet of their dick.”

You threw a pillow at his face. He punched it away as you fumed. “If you must know, I’ve been told I’m good at it.”

Taehyung snorted. He placed his soda farther away from you, afraid it was going to be spilled. “By who? Your delusions?”

“Wow, Tae, seriously?” You puffed your cheeks, glaring at him. “You’re being so mean about this. Don’t pretend you have any experience at all.”

Taehyung frowned at you. “I’ve had experience. What makes you think I haven’t?”

You made a face. “You literally only spend your time at my place or at Jimin’s and you definitely aren’t getting your dick sucked here.” You placed a hand over your eyes, scooting away. “I guess you guys are closer than I thought.”

Now Taehyung picked up the pillow and threw it at you. It bounced off your head.

“Jimin doesn’t suck my dick.”

“I mean, you literally just implied–”

Taehyung pushed you into the plushies on your bed, planting a cat one on your head. “Dumbass, I’ve obviously had other opportunities. I’m not a hermit like you.” He pelted you with a Shiba Inu plush as you struggled. “I actually go outside and socialize.”

You glared at him. “I socialize.”

“You play online games all day,” Taehyung shot back, getting off you. “That’s not socializing.”

“Seokjin-oppa comes over,” you muttered, slinging a turtle at him.

Taehyung caught it in the air. He gave you an odd look. You raised your eyebrows back at him. He slowly lowered his hand, narrowing his eyes.

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“I will call him right now,” Taehyung announced, pulling out his phone.

“No, you will not!” you roared, throwing yourself at him and knocking the phone out of his hand. It bounced on your lavender duvet. You planted your hand on it, halfway in Taehyung’s lap. “Ha!” Your other hand was on Taehyung’s thigh. You felt…

Something.

“What is that.” It wasn’t a question. The words just came out of your mouth automatically.

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow at you. “Wouldn’t you know since you have so much experience with the dick of Kim Seok–”

“Do not say it, Kim Taehyung,” you hissed, prodding him in the chest. “I will shut you up permanently. Also,” you added, hand still on his phone. “You shouldn’t be hard.”

Taehyung snorted. “You’re literally going on and on about sucking dick. Of course, I’m hard, you idiot.”

You pointed a finger at him. “It is not appropriate to get hard in front of your female best friend.”

“It is literally appropriate to get hard when you’re next to someone you think is hot and said person is suggesting they can suck pretty good dick.”

“It is absolutely no–” You cut yourself off this time. “Hold up. What did you just say?”

Taehyung’s deep voice seemed to get even deeper.

“I said, if you can actually suck dick, fucking prove it.”

You pulled your hand back, narrowing your eyes. “That’s not what you said.”

“I’m quite sure of what I said.” His expression was completely blank. The harsh overhead lighting of your bedroom seemed to make his dark eyes even darker.

You pointed an ice cream plush at him. “You also said you can’t imagine who would let me within ten feet of their dick.”

“I mean, I can’t imagine,” he said, shrugging. “But I know who would.”

This did not add up. You sat there, trying to do the math to see if it checked out. Which trigonometry equation would it be? Or algebra? An integral, maybe? Kim Taehyung wasn’t making any sense. He sat there, legs spread, obvious tent in his gray sweatpants, brown t-shirt barely covering it. But… why though? In all the years you’ve known him, Taehyung had never, ever asked to be more than friends. Never. In fact, he teased you all the time about how you never had a boyfriend.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’re acting sus.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Are you smooth-brained or what?”

You held your hands up, backing away from him. “All I’m saying is, you’re contradicting yourself.”

Taehyung let out a puff of annoyed air. “I can’t believe you would pick Seokjin-hyung over me.”

You got off the bed to walk over to his soda to drink the rest of it. “He’s good-looking,” you said absentmindedly. “Not that anything specific happened between us or anything.”

“Stop pretending you didn’t fuck him.”

You nearly spit out the soda, coughing. “I only might have suc–”

His eyebrows raised.

“You know what, I don’t have to talk about it. I don’t.”

Taehyung’s mouth thinned to a line. “I’m way more handsome than he is.”

You put the cup down, wondering why you even bothered to drink the rest of that. It was already flat anyway with how heated this conversation was.

“You are handsome, Tae. I just assumed you didn’t want me asking you weird questions like, can I suck your dick?” You shrugged. “Because that would probably make you uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung muttered. “Because I’m clearly comfortable right now with a raging hard-on and you admitting you sucked hyung’s dick.”

You chopped your hands in the air helplessly. “Look, you asked! I answered! What do you want, an apology?”

“An apology of you sucking my dick, yeah.”

You froze. Did he just–? It was the most childish thing you ever heard. Taehyung tucked his tongue in his cheek and glared at you. You were best friends. Best friends! Best friends don’t do that kind of stuff (right?). Best friends don’t think about each other like that (… right?). And you, well, the thing between Seokjin just sort of… happened. And maybe you had exaggerated a little. You weren’t as experienced as Taehyung. Even though you made fun of him, you knew Taehyung had more sexual encounters than you.

The girls around you always ended up gossiping about it.

You really were a hermit – you stayed home and played games, listening to music in your room. There weren’t any chances to do anything with anyone except for the few friends who visited you. And Seokjin was nice, patient. Just as nervous as you, afraid to make it too, er, overwhelming.

“Why… why are you mad?”

Taehyung looked down at the floor, sighing. “I don’t know.” He tilted his head, frowning. “It just pissed me off that you don’t trust me with something as important as that.”

“That’s not…” You paused, fiddling with the bottom of your purple pajama shirt. “If things got weird and Seokjin wasn’t my friend anymore, I would be sad.” His brown eyes slowly found yours as you spoke. “But… if you weren’t my friend anymore…”

You rubbed the back of your neck, not quite looking at him.

“I would be broken.”

He looked away from you too, to the fallen cat plush on the ground.

You chuckled nervously, sighing. “I don’t know if it would work. And I don’t want to ruin something that is already great with something that is just… my lack of confidence in being as cool as you.”

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and winced. “Cheesy.”

You twitched and picked up the cat plush, chucking it at him. It bounced off his head, making his hair fly everywhere. He didn’t move, staring at you. You hesitated. Ah, you shouldn’t have said anything at all. It should have just stayed a secret between you and Seokjin. But you always ended up telling Taehyung everything, one way or another.

Taehyung patted the spot next to him. You carefully walked over, measuring a very deliberate space between you two before sitting down. He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself.

“You wanna just kiss and see if it’s weird?” he asked suddenly.

“It’s gonna be weird, Tae,” you laughed nervously. “This whole conversation is weird.”

“Hm.” Slowly, slowly, he leaned over and placed his head on your shoulder. You didn’t move away, continuing to stare at your hands. “Eh. It’s fine if it’s weird, I think. All relationships start off weird.”

You snorted. “I don’t think any relationship starts off weirder than you figuring out I blew one of your friends, then getting mad about it, and somehow we–”

He cut you off because he kissed you.

His lips on yours, sweet like cola, that familiar scent you could always associate with him. The scent that lingered on your pillows after he left, the scent that clung to you after the two of you shared a bed, completely platonically. You always thought falling asleep next to Taehyung was comparable to two stars beside each other in the sky, impossibly far away despite being the closest objects in space together.

Nice to sparkle together, but impossible to be together.

Stars colliding made a supernova, which was amazing, but then collapse into a black hole – the part that worried you the most.

And yet.

You pressed back against him, breathing him in. Your hand came up and held the back of his head, not wanting it to end, his soft lips against yours, not even a hint of messy tongue or anything crazy, just his taste. Taehyung mouthed inaudible words against your lips and you pulled back a little, not even realizing how breathless you were.

“Is it…” he muttered, voice so deep it felt like your heart was vibrating. “Weird?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You chuckled, looking down at your lap. “That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Ah.” He didn’t move away from you. “Want to do it again?”

Even if it all eventually collapsed into a black hole… What if I live like that? You looked up, right into Kim Taehyung’s eyes, your best friend in the whole world and, even now, you didn’t know if it was going to work out, but, maybe in the off-chance, in the impossible, improbable probability that it did…

You leaned over and kissed him, arm around his neck, pushing him down onto your bed. He smiled into your kiss, his larger hands travelling up to your waist to hold you. Your eyes opened a little, just to see his dark brown hair against your sheets, his tan skin against the lavender color. Lashes so long and dark they made you jealous. He was usually on your bed, but this time was different. This time, he was in your arms like a lover, pulled into your gravity. You softly moaned into his mouth and his tongue slid between your lips, rubbing against yours. You played with it, sucking on it. He moaned back, grip on your waist tightening.

“Tae…”

You breathed against his lips, not wanting to back away too far. He opened his eyes, so heavy with lust you almost forgot what you were going to ask.

“I need you to move up a little,” you said apologetically. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Taehyung laughed. “Sure.”

You didn’t know how to tell him that you basically only learned how to suck dick when the guy lying down. But he didn’t ask, simply scooting up the bed before reaching for you and placing you on top of him. Normally, you scolded him for laying on your plushies, but at this point your mind was somewhere else.

“Better?” he purred, kissing your forehead.

“Y-yeah.” You got onto your hands and knees, nervousness flooding through you. Taehyung reached for your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. You blinked at him.

“You don’t actually have to suck my dick,” Taehyung chuckled. “I mean, if you don’t want to.”

You gave him a confused look. “Isn’t that why you were annoyed in the first place?”

Taehyung puffed his cheeks. “I was annoyed because you fucking sucked Seo–”

You slapped a hand over his mouth. “Not the time.”

He rolled his eyes at you. You kept your hand on his mouth as you slid down, glaring at him until you had to let go to get into position. He watched you with a raised brow. He balanced on his elbows, amused.

“Stop judging me.”

Taehyung grinned. “I’m not judging. Just viewing technique.”

You frowned and pushed his t-shirt out of the way.

“I can take it off.”

“Let me concentrate, you fool.”

Taehyung finally shut up. You kept telling yourself to just take off his pants. It was not that weird. It wasn’t like you hadn’t walked in on him changing before. But you had never seen Taehyung naked and, obviously, had never seen his cock. The tent in front of you was not as big as it was before, but all the girls ever talked about was…

You heard your name being called. You snapped your head up.

“You okay?” Taehyung asked, tilting his head at you.

“Y-yeah.”

“Sounding really confident there.”

You clicked your tongue. “Hmph.”

And you hooked your fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and pulled down. Taehyung lifted his hips to help you and you were nearly smacked in the face with his cock.

“The fuck, Kim Taehyung?” Your eyes went wide as you bunched his pants around his knees. “The FUCK? Kim Taehyung?!”

Taehyung laughed. “What?”

“What?” you echoed, indignant. “Excuse me, sir, you tried to take out my eye with your dick and–” You pointed accusingly at his cock. “Um?”

“That’s not fully hard yet, yeah.”

Alright, it wasn’t like he was some Dragon Dildo cock but, still. You had a pretty small mouth (at least that’s what your dentist told you before he removed all four wisdom teeth, sigh). Taehyung rubbed his chin, sticking his tongue in his cheek.

“That’s why I said you don’t have to do it.”

You stiffened. “I mean… I can do it. I-it’s not like I can’t or anything.”

Taehyung shrugged. “Just don’t bite me.”

“Why the fuck would I bite you?”

“I’m just saying that’s not my kind of kink.”

“Just… shut up for a second.”

You furrowed your brow. It felt strange remembering Seokjin’s words to you now, but those were the only ones you knew. He told you to be gentle at first. You leaned forward, kissing the head softly. It felt warm and velvety against your lips. Just kisses, all up and down the length. You licked Taehyung’s balls lightly, using your hand to hold his cock out of the way. Taehyung’s eyes went wide as you ran your tongue over his balls, softly taking one in your mouth, bouncing it on your tongue.

“A-ah…”

You wrapped your hand around him to hold him in place, swirling your tongue around and around. You looked up at Taehyung. His eyelids were fluttering, groaning as you switched sides.

“F-fuck, normally they just go straight for the dick…”

You pressed your tongue flat and molded him to the crevices of your mouth, making him gasp and grab the sheets as you sucked hard. He made eye contact with you. Lips soft, mouth tight. Plenty of saliva. Slow, slow, popping your lips off.

“Just that was pretty impressive,” Taehyung panted, pulling his shirt up higher. You swallowed, inhaling sharply as you saw more of his torso. His skin was a lovely tan that accented his muscles and his cute bellybutton. You shook your head slightly, trying not to get distracted.

You pressed your lips just under the head, a soft chaste kiss. Your tongue slid out, running over the sensitive skin, saliva dripping down his cock as you looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, moaning hotly.

Seokjin didn’t teach you to do that. You were just enamored with Taehyung’s cock almost in your mouth.

Taehyung breathed your name, low and sensual.

You took him in your mouth, slowly, lifting and lowering your head as you went, lapping against the underside. Fit only what you’re comfortable with. Don’t stress about getting it all in. Lips loose, inside of the mouth tight. You went straight down, using gravity to your advantage. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but he was getting there, swelling in your mouth as you begun your pace, using his hips as leverage to hold yourself up.

“Right there.”

You paused, repeating your last movement. Rubbing your tongue against the bottom of the head, pressing his cock against the roof of your mouth. Taehyung’s voice was breathy, almost pleading.

“Down.”

You did so, keeping your tongue in place as you slide down, the head against the soft upper part of your throat. Taehyung moaned deliciously, hissing softly.

“F-fuck, that’s so good.”

You repeated the movement, bobbing your head up and down. Slow at first, but building up, gaining confidence. Spit slid down the length, pooling onto his balls.

“Ugh,” Taehyung grunted, clenching the sheets. “Your mouth is soft, but tight. Such a perfect combination.”

You couldn’t exactly respond. He wasn’t fully in your mouth, but you only focused on speed and precision of your pressure, making sure to squeeze the head as it pressed against your lips. You shifted, moving one of your hands to cup his balls, smearing the wetness everywhere. He sucked in a breath, setting his jaw.

“A-ack…”

You decided to try it. A moment of pause and then a slow, slow descent, all the way down. Relax your throat. Front tight, back loose to prevent yourself from gagging. The head hit the back of your throat and your heart jumped. Just a little more. Control. A little lower and your felt your throat tighten around the head. Oh fuck. You couldn’t breathe. But Taehyung was moaning your name so wantonly that you nearly forgot you were almost choking on his dick. You can do it. Slight, sharp ruts of your throat on the tip itself, making Taehyung jerk his head back and cry out in ecstasy.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, gasping down at you. “You have it all in your mouth.”

He sounded very impressed. You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, and winked at him. He laughed, shaking his head at you.

You had to pull back a little, conscious of your breathing as you regained sweet oxygen. You didn’t want to sound like you were dying, after all. Taehyung was about to say something, but you started up your fastest pace yet, bouncing up and down, not looking at him as you focused completely on your pressure control.

“A-ah, shit!”

You used both hands to hold yourself up as you bobbed, hyper focused on giving him a raw, wet, tight hole to slide into. For you, this was the easiest because gravity did half the work for you, adding to the speed and cutting half of the stress on your neck, which was occupied with ramming the head down your throat as you tightened your muscles even more, fingertips digging into his skin. You could taste it, the pre-cum leaking into your mouth. Those pathetic, muffled whimpers couldn’t be you, right? You flicked your eyes up to him. Taehyung was watching you, panting hard, pupils blown so wide that his doe eyes looked even bigger.

“Damn, you’re even hotter than I thought,” he choked out, groaning sharply. “I’m close, I don’t know if you want to swallow–”

You dug your nails into his hips, moving even faster, desperate for him to cum in your mouth. He whimpered himself, leaning his head back as a low moan tore from his throat, your name falling out so sweetly and deeply that you felt it in your soul as he came in your mouth, flooding it. You pulled back a little to give it space to collect as you swallowed, his cock jerking in your mouth. Three gulps and there was still a little left. You swept it with your tongue and Taehyung shivered under you as you swallowed that too, lingering. Your tongue gently coated him. You pulled back, centimeter by slow centimeter, teasing the tip with the end of your tongue. Taehyung whispered at the sensitivity, but you pressed your lips against the head, soft pressure at the very end until the tip popped out.

“Could you just…” Taehyung panted, one eye closing as he struggled to catch his breath. “Not be good at that?”

You grinned, straightening. “Oh? I did good?”

Taehyung gritted his teeth. “I have never thought a blowjob could be comparable to pussy until just now, holy fuck.”

You rubbed your jaw in a startlingly similar manner to his habit. “Think I’m gonna be sore.”

Taehyung gestured down to his cock, who was rapidly falling asleep. “You killed him. How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you now?”

You shrugged. “I like other things too.”

“I’m listening.”

You scratched your head. Shit. You haven’t actually expected Taehyung to want to reciprocate. It wasn’t that what you wanted was strange, but it felt embarrassing to ask him, because it was something you learned about yourself with someone else. Taehyung’s eyes were boring holes into you. He was silently commanding you to tell him right now or else.

“I have to make you cum,” he said softly. “Tell me how.”

A shiver ran through you. Your eyes shifted down to his hands and he lifted them from the bed, observing you curiously. His lips curled into a wide smirk. You glared at him and pulled your pajama shirt over your head so you didn’t have to look at his smug face. You straddled his legs, pulling yourself up to him. You were still wearing your underwear. You reached into the cups of your bra and pulled your breasts out right in front of his face. The bra still on your body pushed them together so your nipples stuck straight out. Taehyung licked his lips.

“A meal? For me?”

You puffed your cheeks and took the back of his head, pushing him towards your nipple.

“Lick.”

His brown orbs became mischievous. His pink tongue darted out, flicking your nipple. You sucked in a breath and grabbed one of his hands, pressing his middle finger on your other nipple, rubbing it in slow circles. Taehyung got the hint, licking one of your nipples as he played with the other with his fingers.

“Pinching?” he mumbled.

“Y-yeah…”

He pinched you lightly. You yelped, fingers tangling in his hair. Lightly constrained in your clothes, your nipples being played with. One more step. You reached down for his free hand and dragged it up your thigh, moaning as his knuckle brushed against your soaking wetness.

“Ah,” he purred, vibrating your nipple with his voice. “You like a triple assault.”

“Tae, just fucking finger me.”

He chuckled deeply, rubbing you though your panties. They sank into your folds. Your clit throbbed with need, desperate for attention as he rubbed the slopping wet fabric against it.

“I will,” he drawled, staring up at you. He rubbed harder, keeping pace with your nipple. “How many?”

“I-I don’t think you can fit more than two,” you gasped, grinding against his hand.

“Okay,” he purred, hooking a finger around your panties. Strings of your juices clung to his hand as he pulled the fabric to the side. “One first.”

You felt him slowly slide his finger into you, his lips pressed against your nipple as he did so, his eyes closing. Your breathing became shallow, pleasure snaking upwards.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight,” Taehyung breathed, licking your nipple in between his words. “So fucking wet.”

You clutched his head tighter as he pushed in and out of you, curling it slightly. You chopped his neck feebly.

“N-no, straight.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows, but complied, straightening his finger and thrusting it into you. Oh, yes. You clenched around him, shoving your tits into his face as you wiggled your hips on his hand.

“Need m-more, Tae…”

He rolled his tongue around your nipple and sucked it hard, shoving another finger into you at the same time, making your cry out and squirm. You gripped the hand on your nipple, encouraging him.

“I got you, love.”

Your heart skipped two beats. And then he began to really finger-fuck you, driving them into you hard and fast, pinching your nipple and sucking on the other. Pleasure shot throughout your entire being, so drunk with lust that you leaned into it, spreading your legs to give Taehyung more space to move his arm, fuck you harder.

“Taehyung, oh, fuck, Tae...”

You felt eyes on you and you looked down, seeing Taehyung’s sharp brown orbs watching you, brows furrowed as you bucked on his hand, detaching his mouth as he whispers hotly into your chest.

“Fuck, I want to fuck your pussy so fucking bad,” he growled.

His eyes were so dark that you felt like you were falling into space, into his gravity, trapped. He pounded you his fingers into you harder, pinching and twisting your nipple. You were ready to fall apart, gasping and moaning so much that your throat was dry.

“Can you take one more?”

“I-I don’t know…” you whimpered. “So f-full…”

He chuckled. “I have a big dick, remember?”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip. “O-okay, do it.”

Slow, slow. His third finger buried itself into you and you squeezed your eyes shut, gasping as you felt him began pace again. Your nipples were extra sensitive now, making your body shiver as he touched them again. Just a little more…

“Tae,” you gasped, “Go as hard and fast as you can.”

“You sure?” Even just the feeling of his lips brushing against your nipple had you trembling.

“Yes, do it.”

He wrapped his lips around your nipple before ramming his fingers into you, tearing a plea of his name from your throat as he fingered you roughly, almost like a fucking vibrator. Oh, fuck. If Seokjin was in the back of your mind, he quickly vanished as Taehyung pounded you, forcing you to take it all, spreading you out as you saw stars in your peripheral vision. He didn’t hold back and you didn’t want him to, squeezing his fingers as they entered you, pressing his head down on your breasts. Everything tightened inside you, so close to the edge that you could smell your juices dripping onto his lap.

“Tae, fuck, I’m so fucking close, a-ah…”

He sucked on your nipple, hard, pinching and twisting the other and it pushed you over, crying out as everything snapped suddenly, pleasure racking through your entire body as your pussy throbbed around his hand. You nearly sank down, Taehyung’s hands the only things keeping you up as you buried your face in his hair, gasping for air.

“Careful,” Taehyung murmured, pulling his fingers out, sticky and covered in your juices. He looked at his fingers for a moment before shoving them in his mouth.

“T-Tae!”

He made eye contact with you as he licked them off slowly and purposefully, moaning lustfully around them. Your pussy throbbed with need at the sight of his pink tongue slurping up the glistening liquid.

“Mmm, delicious.”

You felt your ears turn red and you climbed off him, righting your underwear before flopping onto the bed. Taehyung laid down next to you, pulling up his pants.

“Give me a couple hours and I’ll rail you with my dick.”

“Wow, that’s so romantic.”

Then came the awkward moment. The one where you stared at your pillows and squashed plushies, realizing what you had just done, realizing that you couldn’t turn back now. The stars had collided. Now what? The black hole? You didn’t look at Taehyung. You couldn’t.

He said you name, softly.

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t being serious. You’re a virgin, right?”

You shifted your eyes. “Erm…”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“I’m gonna kill Seokjin-hyung.”

“No, Tae–”

masterpost

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x you #v x reader #v x you #v smut

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tundrainafrica · 2 years

Note

I sent this ask to a couple of people and I really want to know your take on this.What do you think is Hanji’s love language?

Thanks for this anon!

This is such an interesting question.

I don't think there's any single person who has any specific love language, we as people just tend to have ones we prefer more than others and these are just my headcanons on how I think Hange generally was in the show, and how they are in the AUs I imagine, so... here goes!

So pretty much what I did below is just copied and pasted them and ranked them from one (most valued) to five (least valued) on what I think would be the love languages Hange values the most to the ones they least value.

1. Acts of service

The easiest way to Hange's heart is to help Hange and I feel like she would most likely notice someone if they spend their time actually working with her. What she really needs from people is someone who will listen to her and bounce around ideas with her like pretty much what Levi gave here when the anime first started and I think that was one of the reason why their relationship development.

Let's not forget how much she valued Moblit. <3

2. Receiving gifts

Although I put this up here, I do not think Hange has a particularly wide range of gifts she would have liked to receive. But she has very specific ones, maybe some extra gear for her next invention or that extra chemical or herb she would have liked to use for an experiment and if someone gave it to her, she would most likely remember that act for days.

Note: Generally, when considering the first two, I considered the fact that Hange values practicality, productivity and concrete things. She values what can be seen, observed, worked on, improved on. and I guess this is why the top two are the more concrete languages and the last three below are more... abstract if you know what I mean.

3. Words of affirmation

I probably would have put Words of Affirmation down under because Hange never struck me as the type to rely on external validation to get stuff done. When I considered Season 4 Hange though, I started to realize that maybe she did have a side of her which needed the verbal validation, especially when she became commander and kept comparing herself to Erwin, which puts this love language, at '3' instead of anything lower.

But is it anything higher? I personally don't believe so, cause if it was, 126 and 132 dialogues probably would have seemed at least a little less... emotionally constipated.

4. Quality time

Hange never struck me as a quality time person. I think it was mentioned multiple times in safe pass that Hange could literally be a hermit for days and I'm not sure if this is my own hc or it has been mentioned, but Levi did say she never really made time... outside work?

At least, I imagine, Hange would rarely be the type to invite people out for the sake of just being with the person. If she goes somewhere, and invites someone out, she has an actual concrete purpose to be at a certain place, like maybe if she wants to go to the forest to pick up something, or to the market to buy food.

Levi seems to me as more of the type of person to invite people out, like Hange, for the sake of just being with her.

Or at least, that's my hc, which puts this down there.

5. Physical touch

Hange is just not a touchy person. I actually imagine Levi to be more intimate than Hange, and we allthey're just not going to be very intimate in public.

Also, intimacy wise, I feel like Hange is more divergent when it comes to activities in the bedroom (if you know what I mean) while Levi is more intimate one who just wants a fluffy good time every time they get touchy.

Hange would probably just think, it isn't too practical to be intimate when there are a million other ways somebody could be doing, or a million other ways to stimulate themselves like you know, researching titans, pondering the secrets of the world.

So anyway, that concludes my list.

I hope this answers your questions. Thanks for this <3 It was fun to think about.

#levihan #hange zoe

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

hermit!Tommy au keeps living rent free in my brain and i need to get it out to write my other stuff. writing sort of helps but it’s also letting other aus in!

like in this i’m also using triplet au and some avian race stuff plus one au thing i’m adding because i like it!

send help, i don’t know enough about dream smp to write it well but i’m writing anyway and maybe it’s good but i have Anxiety™.

uh, anyway, part one of this new idea, if you have any idea who would help dream get tommy back like this, tell me cause otherwise i’m only using tubbo techno and dream cause i’m not sure who would realistically join.

oh yeah and @petrichormeraki for making the hermit!tommy au and i think also the triplet au? and then also @strawberrylemonz because i didn’t realize they had more chapters of their one fic and i binge read all of memories in the stars so now Grian and Tommy are brothers in this fic.

Dream smiled wildly under his mask as he stared at the portal that stood in front of him. It was no nether portal, the only resemblance being the purple color between the blocks of the frame. Said blocks were eight pure diamond blocks making an almost five by three shape. It had taken months to learn of the design and get it to work properly, but here it was. Known only as the infinity portal, Dream knew this was just what he was after.

A few other players stood near him, having assisted in the creation of the portal at Dream’s demands and threats. It had started when Tommy disappeared. When everyone realized, there were a range of emotions, but almost everyone knew that there would be no way to find Tommy. They hadn’t noticed for who knows how long after he left, leaving no trail. Dream was the only one who thought there might be a way to find his lost ‘friend’. And that idea became real when at a MCC tournament with Tubbo, the compass the boy always wore stopped spinning once again. And even then, learning that had been chance when in the middle of a game the normally hidden item had come loose.

Dream never saw Tommy so he assumed that he was simply in the crowd and not participating, which made it harder to pin him down, but with the return portals going group by group, it was easy to see the compass stop tracking Tommy after the Hermitcraft group left.

The initial knowledge left Dream shocked and even doubting a return of Tommy. That place was known as a very well protected place. It was likely that Tommy’s arrival caused those that resided in Hermittown would have their admin making things harder to bypass. And at the same time, someone who could get through like Tommy did, even by chance, would likely be heavily monitored. It’s just how Dream would do it.

But not wanting to give up, Dream researched into these people and learned how the Hermits would open their gates briefly before moving on. Based on previous patterns, there was no way Dream would wait months and months before that happened again, but some knowledge has seeped over from the previous event.

Some of the Hermits had found a way to create something called the infinity portal, and immediately Dream knew that would be his way to Tommy. If anything were to get past the Hermit’s protection, it would be something of their own design.

And now here it was, his very own Infinity portal. He had even used his admin powers to give it a little upgrade. A duplicate of Tubbo’s compass was placed into one of the blocks making up the frame. It was slightly dented and scorched from previous attempts and was currently sparking dangerously, but it was all holding.

Now, speaking of Tubbo, the boy was just to Dream’s right. He grabbed Tubbo a little harshly and pulled him forward. “See, it finally works!” Dream spoke, his voice edging complete madness. “And I’m sure it wouldn’t have without that little trinket of yours, so why don’t you have the honors Tubbo?”

Normally Dream wouldn’t want to give anyone else the chance to get to Tommy before him, but he was smart and knew how to survive. While the portal looked stable and working for the most part, the sparks from the compass told another story. He could go in first and potentially die, or he could use a test dummy.

Tubbo was too eager to see Tommy once again and didn’t see any problem with going first. He stepped onto the portal and barely gave a second thought about Dream’s Request to come back once he was through to say where exactly they landed. He watched as the world around him warped and turned purple, just as with a nether portal, but the bright white flash that followed was different.

The first thing Tubbo saw was a large turquoise building, but to see it better, he took a step out of the portal and fell into the water a few blocks below. He looked back up at the portal and then at the ocean floor before using the blocks he had on him to build back up to the portal. As he did so, he could feel his communicator buzzing madly. Tubbo finally looked at the thing once he reached the portal again and made a small platform around it.

<MumboJumbo> Did someone make a new cam-drone?

<Tango> Not me

<Grian> Might be Tommy, he’s the only one afk right now

<joehillssays> name sounds familiar and he doesn’t normally use them, so might be an old one.

Tubbo stared at the communicator, there were more messages, but only the first few mattered to him, specifically the message with Tommy’s name in it. He couldn’t be completely sure that it was his friend though, but before he could look at the list of other users, two new messages came in.

<TommyInnit> Guys, please just let me have this one, it’s really important.

<TommyInnit> Tubbo how the fuck

Tubbo couldn’t help but tear up at the message. He started typing back, sure his message was coming out poorly due to the tears messing with his already impared vision, but there was a ping as his message was sent before he walked through the portal again.

~~~~~

Tommy had finished afking near Mumbo’s industrial district, having turned off his communicator so he could just sit and watch the machines go. As he turned everything off again, he unmuted the device just to have a flood of messages show up. He scrolled up until a yellow one caught his eye.

Tubbo_ joined the server

Tubbo. His Tubbo. How was he here? Tommy had to know, and even if the other Hermits would get upset at his language, it was all he could think of right now. He sent a message, hoping Tubbo would see it and that this wasn’t all some huge mistake. After the messages were sent, he stared at the communicator until another message was sent. Seeing Tubbo’s name in a message made his heart soar, but it immediately seemed to stop as he actually read the response.

<Tubbo_> Dream’s been trying to find a way to you for months and he finally did it! I’m going to be right back with him and the others!

Tubbo_ left the server.

Tubbo was one thing but Dream was another. Tommy could feel himself trembling. He had found a way in. Tommy’s worst fears were coming true. But then another message came in.

<Grian> Alright, guess I’m breaking out the axe again

<Stressmonster101> I’m already headed to my brewing area.

<xisumavoid> Looks like they used an infinity portal.

<Docm77> I have nothing to do with it

Tommy managed to smile just a little at how quick everyone was jumping into action at the mention of his own admin. As more Hermits chimed in, Tommy sent his own message.

<TommyInnit> Dream is the real threat. I don’t think Tubbo would be helping if he knew the full story or is being threatened or something. I’m not sure who else will come, but just maim and capture anyone besides those two unless I say otherwise.

~~~~~

After what seemed like an eternity, Tubbo stepped back through the portal. He was dripping wet but had a huge smile on his face and Dream knew Tommy had to be on the other side.

“He’s there! He’s really there!” Tubbo was practically bouncing around.

“You’re wet.” Came the deadpan tone of Techno’s voice as he stepped closer, now knowing the portal was working.

“Yeah, it sort of spawned over an ocean but I made a platform and everything.”

“Good job Tubbo.” Dream spoke before anyone else could. “Now we can go help free Tommy from wherever these people have trapped him and bring him home.”

“Well, when I showed up, Tommy was able to use a communicator which is how I know he’s really there, so maybe he isn’t trapped and need rescuing?” Tubbo asked meekly.

“If that were true, wouldn’t he have come back Tubbo? If not for all of us, if not for his home, why didn’t he come back for you?”

Tubbo didn’t respond and Dream pushed past him to be right in front of the portal. He turned around to face the others he had collected there and pulled out his axe. “We don’t know what all will be there to ‘greet’ us once we go looking, so better to arm yourselves now. And the sooner we go through, the better.” And with that, he stepped into the portal.

When he reached the other side, his communicator immediately started buzzing. With no one in sight, Dream pulled it out to read what these Hermits were getting up to. He couldn’t help but laugh at the messages coming in. It seemed that they were torturing Tommy or something. This would be easy. Behind him, more people from the SMP came through the portal. They had weapons at the ready and even looked a little disappointed at the lack of a battle on the other side.

Dream pointed out the two landmarks that were best visible, a large turquoise tower and an island littered with buildings. While the tower was closer, Techno pointed out the building was made of warped wood, so it would be tough to deal with. The island on the other hand, it was so full with buildings that obviously plenty of these Hermits had to be living there. It was surprising it didn’t look like more of a mess.

Tubbo was the only one to notice a small island with a single chest on it. After close inspection, the chest was in no way trapped and Dream laughed when he saw it was filled with boats. “It’s like they’re asking us to attack them!”

After placing down a number of boats, Dream and the rest of his group rowed towards the island. A few people stayed out of the boats and swam in the water. While they weren’t as fast, it was better than having everyone vulnerable as they rowed.

They had nearly reached the island when there was the distinct sound of a firework being fired. Techno was the first to jump out his boat, looking for the source, but as the seconds went on, there was no explosion. Instead, another firework went off and a shadow passed over the boats.

Looking up, the group saw a figure with giant wings, a trail of smoke behind them. Techno fired his crossbow at them, but the flier swerved out of the way before diving at the group. Boats moved to get out of the flight path, but Dream stood in place and readied his axe. As the figure grew closer, he smiled. Perfect height, red shirt, blonde hair. That was Tommy. “Tommy, glad to see you. It’s been ag-” Dream was cut off and stopped smiling as an axe blade hit him just as Tommy passed him.

He was about to speak again when there was a laugh. One that sent shivers down his spine. Dream looked around, but the source could only be from the one flying around him. That wasn’t Tommy. “A-Attack the imposter!” He managed to get out, pushing down his fear. There was only one person with that laugh. The dreamslayer.

As Grian swooped down for another attack, a yell from the nearby shore stopped everyone in their tracks, even making Grian slow down as it was someone yelling at him. “Grian! Get back here and give us a chance to be diplomatic about this!” Looking towards the island ahead, Dream could see a figure standing at the shore which the avian now flew towards before landing. Someone aligned with Grian was potentially dangerous as well, but Dream has an army while this new person wanted a peaceful option.

Still, it was an opportunity to get closer safely, so Dream obliged, having Techno follow him. The warrior begrudgingly agreed, this was for his brother after all. He hopped out of his boat and climbed into the back of the one Dream was rowing. Within a few moments they had reached the shore and Techno growled slightly at the sight of this new person. They seemed to have an attempted copy of Tommy’s face as a mask. The one Dream mistook for Tommy wore an identical mask.

“Hello there. I’m Scar, mayor of Hermitcraft. I’m sure you’re here for Tommy, but I’m afraid he does not want to return with you, and we don’t have that many slots available for new comers at the moment.”

Techno crossed his arms at this ‘mayor’ while Dream let out a curt laugh. “I’m sure that’s what you think, but Tommy is one of us. He has to come back. Especially since staying here leaves his family behind.” Dream gestured to Techno.

“Hey, if they fill out the right paperwork and what not,” Grian started, Scar attempting to interject that he would have to be filling out the paperwork too before being shushed. “The rest of the family can come live here. Isn’t that right Techno?”

Techno barely gave any reaction and Grian shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, I get it. Haven’t seen you in who knows how long. It’s fine.”

Dream glanced over towards Techno. “You know Grian?” Techno replied with a no at the same time Grian replied with a yes. “Either way, that doesn’t matter. Tommy is coming with us.” And Dream swung his axe. Grian quickly intercepted it, but that’s why he had brought backup. Techno used the gap Grian had left and used his own axe on Scar. It only took a single hit as the mayor had come without any armor. In fact, the only things that fell to the ground were two masks, one of Tommy and the other of Scar.

As Scar was killed, everyone’s communicator buzzed. Dream smiled, now it was a two on one, something this dreamslayer couldn’t possibly win against. But his smile fell as Grian gave a smile of his own. “You know we were giving you a chance. But now everyone knows what’s going on.”

Dream gave a nod and Techno lifted Grian by his shirt. In his other hand he held his axe which was now being positioned over the parrot wings Grian sported. That made the avian flinch which Dream was glad of, but before the axe could fall, there was the sound of plenty of fireworks going off and then the sky was filled with other hermits, all equipped with elytra.

#hermit!tommy au #hermitcraft #dreamsmp #oh no a war #tommyinnit #tubbo #dreamwastaken #grian #goodtimeswithscar #technoblade #still not a fan of how dream's persona eminates someone... problematic

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dcforts · 3 years

Text

[something more]

ao3.

Dean never wants to go to hunter gatherings.

First, because they don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to meeting other hunters, and second, because whenever they go there's always people looking at them like they’re freaks. He knows they tell all sorts of stories about them and some are hard, ugly truths that Dean would rather stop thinking about for the rest of his life.

But he's got a text from Carol while he was about to get in the car after wrapping up a case, and Sam asked who it was, so it had become a Thing to discuss.

And Dean’s main argument was “Why would we go?”, but Sam’s was “Why not?”, which was objectively stronger. And it got worse because from the backseat Jack kept interjecting with, “Go where?” and, “Who are these people?” until Sam paid attention to him and explained that hunters meet up sometimes to “get a drink, exchange stories”, and that had made him light up like a Christmas tree because Jack loved stories and the idea of expanding his pool of knowledge on hunting and creatures appealed to him greatly.

So the fact that Dean had tried to point out that, “This is stupid. We are hunters, not a book club,” had sorted no effect whatsoever. No, instead, Jack had said, “That sounds nice. We should go,” and when Dean had met Cas’ eyes in the rear view mirror, all he had offered was a shrug.

Typical.

It’s not that Dean wants to be a hermit or something, but he always feels like he needs to be wary of who’s gonna be at these sorts of things because some may treat them like Hollywood stars, but some may want to shoot them on sight. Anyone could come up to them and call them out for starting the end of the world, letting monsters out of Hell and Purgatory, cosmic beings out of their cages, getting their family killed, destroying their lives.

And there’s also this: are they really ready for Jack’s debut in society? Sam thinks they are. He thinks it’s a great opportunity to show that the community doesn’t have anything to worry about. He’s with them now and he’s not going anywhere so they should get used to that. Cas says he’ll be there to intervene in case things go south and Dean’s mind flashes with Carol’s house burning to the ground after Cas’ has gone all mama swan on the hunters. He meets Sam’s eyes briefly and it looks like he had the exact same images playing in front of his eyes, “I’m sure it won’t be necessary," he adds quickly.

So Sam wanted to go and Jack wanted to go and Cas didn’t seem to be able to say no to the kid even if he tried, so Dean had to bite his cheek and wake up early the next morning to drive across the state.

At least it’s a nice day, at least it stopped raining and the sun is breaking in from the clouds; the chilly air that comes in from the window that Cas is in the habit of keeping rolled all the way down brings in the pleasant smell of wet leaves.

Dean feels his knees bumping on the back of his seat from time to time and looks at him in the rear view mirror and Cas sometimes catches his eyes and sometimes he doesn’t.

At least they are spending time together. It’s rare for Cas to stay around after a hunt these days. He doesn’t need the down time they require, or so he says. He gets bored in the bunker, starts climbing the walls the second the door closes behind them. He gets restless, and then there’s Heaven and always bigger things to deal with, and Dean imagines that that beats staying behind to play foosball with him and Jack.

Going on hunts with Cas is always fun, but it’s also a run against time and there’s death and guns and fear involved, even when it’s an easy-peasy salt-and-burn. And it’s the four of them crammed in a motel room, so they don’t get much time to be alone. And Dean likes when they are all together, but likes it more when Sam and Jack disappear in the maze of the bunker and he gets to have his best friend all for himself.

That is why Dean had been pleased when Cas had expressed his intention of staying with them for a couple more days. In that moment Dean had been busy keeping his lunch in his stomach - he’d just found the shredded skin of a shapeshifter in a freaking kitchen drawer - but he’d heard him loud and clear all the same.

They were moving about in the victim’s house looking for clues and talking about other stuff, when Cas had said something along the lines of, “I could work on it once we go back to the bunker,” and Dean had asked, half distracted, “So you’re going back with us?” and Cas had his back turned and Dean had opened the drawer in that moment, but he'd heard him when he’d said:

“I guess.”

It was barely a whisper but it meant yes, that’s all that mattered. And it also meant, from Dean’s perspective, a really nice weekend, that included, not in order of importance: his hot dog pants, driving around with the music up, Dean’s cave and Cas.

So, yeah, if Dean was completely honest with himself – something that he generally tried to avoid – it’s not like he wanted to waste a whole day of that to go spend it with a bunch of strangers.

But it doesn’t matter now, because they’ve piled up in the Impala and driven to Carol’s.

Dean likes her. She spent half her life working at a bank, but after crossing path with a djinn she hanged her suit, moved out of the city and created a safe place for hunters, soon becoming a beacon in the community in Kansas. Her door is always open, as she said that one time they met her on a case. Dean likes her for no-nonsense ways, her honest looks and, not less importantly, her amazing sandwiches.

Carol fusses over him and Sam in the hall, scolds them for taking so long to visit when they live in the same state, then Sam makes the introductions, and it’s only his shifting a little from side to side that betrays his nervousness.

Her eyes focus on Cas and her expression speaks of wonder and surprise.

“The angel Castiel,” she calls him and he nods, “a long way from Heaven.”

“The weather here is nicer,” he says, and Dean snorts softly next to him.

Jack wins her over immediately with his wide smile and polite hand shake, “I look forward to exchanging stories,” he says and she huffs a laugh and says:

“Sure, Jack. We heard a lot about you. I bet everyone will be eager to talk to you.”

On the other side of Cas, Sam gets more fidgety; he says, “If you think uh – we don’t want any trouble.”

But she shakes her head and gestures dismissively. “Nonsense. No one will start trouble if they don't wanna see the end of my rifle. A friend of yours is a friend of mine,” she reassures him. “Plus, Eileen vouched for him.”

“Sh-she is here already?” Sam almost chokes up and all of the sudden he seems to have grown a few inches taller.

Dean understands now. He pieces together his insistence in coming to this thing, his bouncing knee throughout their journey, the way he checked his phone more or less forty-five times. He feels slightly less bad about having caved in. There are a lot of things that Dean would give up for Sam, and things that he would conjure out of thin air just for him to have, if he could. But there’s so much he can’t give him and he wants Sam to just get out and take, have and enjoy. So if he wanted to come here just to meet Eileen again, Dean’s happy to be complicit.

Sam is the first to disappear in the packed living room, with Jack following right behind, but Dean grabs Castiel’s elbow before he can take another step. He circles him to block him from the entrance and says, “Hey, stick with me, alright? Last time I was at one of these things this guy Norman talked about his knife collection for three hours.”

“But, Jack…”

“He’s with Sam, he’s gonna be fine,” says Dean, dismissing. He grins, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people; don’t you wanna make friends?”

Cas makes a face but doesn't say anything else. Apparently Jack is not the only one who he seems unable to refuse something to and that makes Dean feel good. He trails after him around the room as Dean stops to say hello from familiar face to familiar face.

There’s Max and Alicia, sprawled on a couch, nursing the worst hangover Dean’s seen in a long time. They say they're happy to see him, but then they eye Cas up and down and Max says something along the lines of, “Oh, I see now why you keep him hidden from us," and that prompts Dean to quickly move along.

Then they bump into this old man who claims to have been one of the patrons of the Roadhouse. Dean has no idea who he is, but he swears he remembers him from when he was a boy - of course he remembers, and hey, if he needs anything, did he know that he was retired but still kept an eye out for monster sightings, and did he hear of that one time he and Bill Harvelle -

Dean tries to nod and smile appropriately for the whole time and when they finally manage to escape him, Cas leads him to an empty corner where they can take refuge.

"I didn't think there would be this many people," Cas says, surveying the room clearly looking for Jack.

Dean elbows him and points at where the kid is talking animatedly to two young hunters he's never seen, "What is he even talking about?"

"Our last case."

"Wh-? Oh, right, I always forget you have the superhearing," then he has a thought and adds, "Hey, you gonna tell me if you hear someone talking shit about me, right?"

Cas' eyebrows raise in thinly veiled amusement and that's all the answer Dean needs, "What? Who?" he asks, outraged.

But Cas doesn't have time to answer before they get interrupted and soon surrounded by hunters Dean's seen on the road, worked with, heard about. Some share their epic tales of escapes from impossible dangers, some are curious and some are brave and blunt and they ask Cas questions and address him without fear and Cas is polite and just a tiny bit awkward.

It gets a little chilly when this guy with too many beers in starts bragging about how he knows all about angels' weaks spots. Cas' face stays as stony as it gets for the whole time but then he says “I suggest you check your sources,” with a deep voice that runs a shiver down Dean’s spine, and he’s not even the one who’s directing his intense gaze at.

There are so many different people that Cas doesn't stick out like a sore thumb, and Dean finds himself thinking that if they were just two regular hunters in a crowd and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.

He almost sighs of relief when he eyes Eileen on the other side of the room and steers Cas towards her.

"I can't believe I still haven't had a single beer," he mutters as they elbow their way through the crowd. Sam hovers around her with a timid smile plastered on his face that doesn’t seem to take any breaks.

Dean hugs her and tries not to follow Cas’ movement with the corner of his eyes when he senses him stepping away from his side.

Eileen calls his attention back. She makes fun of him saying, “Sam told me you didn’t want to come. Getting too old to leave the house?”

“Very funny,” Dean says.

“Next time we can organize something at the bunker. There’s so much space," she says, smirking.

Dean thinks 'Yeah, no way' and says, “Yeah, no way,” and she laughs.

“But you,” Dean adds, “you can come stay with us. Anytime. For as long as you want. We would love to have you. Me, Sam,” he says wiggling his eyebrows in a way that has his brother close his eyes in embarrassment, “you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you,” she signs, blushing a little, “I’ll try to come by.”

Dean is glad to know that. She has opened a door in Sam’s life that he probably thought closed forever and Dean will always be grateful to her for that. Also, she is a badass and totally out of his brother’s dorky league.

Cas comes standing by his side again and Dean feels a gentle touch on the small of his back. It's intimate and unexpected so he steps away immediatly almost on instict and Cas' drops his hand. He meets his gaze and they frown at each other for a second. Cas seems about to say something, but then goes back to sporting his usual face, “I think I saw Claire. I’m going to find her.”

So Dean, with that spot on his lower back still tingling, follows him out of the room and into another where there’s only a few scattered hunters and Jack, happily squeezed on a couch with his new friends, his mouth hanging open as he hears a story from this guy named Ronnie that Dean knows for a fact only talks shit. The kid seems to be having fun though, he waves at them as move along.

They find Claire in the empty white kitchen, and catch her right when she’s about to open herself a beer. Her eyes widen in panic but she doesn’t manage to hide the bottle behind her back fast enough.

“Hey guys,” she says with a nervous laugh, “didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Dean stretches out a hand without a word and she drops the act, sighs and hands it over. Before she can say anything else, Cas steps between them, "Claire, it's nice to see you," he says and she lets him squeeze her into a hug.

Pressed against his shoulder, Dean sees her face change expression, her body slightly relax in his arms. She pats him on the back and says: “Good to see you too, Cas.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just passing through,” she replies, putting on airs, “Finished up a job a few miles north. I thought I’d drop by Carol’s before moving on.”

She flips a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder and Dean scoffs.

“So you are in Kansas, and you don’t call, and you drop by Carol’s? Were you even planning on stopping by the bunker?”

She rolls her eyes at him, “I go where the job takes me, Dean. I don’t make plans.”

Dean rolls his eyes in the exact same way, “Right. Well, you know it wouldn’t kill you to stay with us for a while. We could get you a bit of training.”

She groans as if she's heard that same speech about a thousand times, but Cas cuts off whatever she was going to retort with and says, “We weren’t planning on coming either. Sam and Jack are here too.”

“Jack’s here?” she lights up. She says she's heard all sorts of things about him and she can’t wait to meet the kid and of course she’s gonna go easy on him, it’s not like she’s gonna eat him, Jesus, Dean, protective much?

Dean frowns at her but she’s already halfway out of the room. “I can be his big sister. I mean, he should have someone he can talk to. Living with you three must be – a lot.”

“Hey,” protests Dean, but she just laughs and disappears down the hallway.

Dean shakes his head and leans against one of the kitchen counters. Cas does the same against the opposite island. At the end of the narrow passage between the furniture there’s a glass door that gives into the patio and a small garden beyond it.

The door is ajar and fresh air comes in; Cas gets engrossed in watching the pattern the raindrops formed on the glass and Dean gets engrossed in watching Cas. He seems lost in thought and Dean would like to say something but doesn’t want to be annoying. Not today, not when tomorrow he could be gone.

He’ll take this quiet moment instead.

“She’ll be a bad influence on Jack,” he breaks the silence, and that gets him an amused quirk of lips, “But it really would be nice to have her around more often.”

Curiously that has Cas' take his eyes away from the glass and lay his gaze on him. He has his lips pressed in a small smile.

“What?”

“You want people you love around you.”

Dean frowns, “What about it?” he asks, and it comes out sharp and defensive.

Cas shakes his head a little, but there’s a shadow on his face that confuses him: “Nothing, I only meant -" but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because a group of hunters enters the kitchen talking loudly and soon Dean has his vision blocked by half a dozen bodies and he has to press himself against the cabinets to let them through, towards the garden door.

One guy in a baseball cap stops in his track as he sees Dean.

He asks with his eyes wide and stunned expression if he is Dean Winchester, the Dean Winchester and Dean is glad that the rest of the group is already out of earshot because he wasn’t in the mood for a meet and greet session. But the guy starts talking about some hunter named Troy, who he has supposedly hunted with a couple of years back. And Dean’s not in a habit of calling people liars but he's pretty sure he'd remember if he had wiped out a nest of fangs with this guy and allegedly taken down five all on his own and went and get steaks and beer afterwards.

He tries to shoot him down gently and say, “Maybe your friend had me confused with someone else,” but the guy’s face falls and tells him Troy has recently passed on the job and this was his favourite story to tell, and he would always tell it, all proud and all.

Dean pats him on a shoulder then.

“You know what, we shouldn’t ruin it for him now, should we? Troy, you say? Of course I remember him,” he says and throws in a wink. The guy beams at him and thanks him and gets a little chocked up because Troy might have been a liar but he swears he was one of the good ones.

The guy invites him to join his friends for a drink but Dean raises his half-empty bottle and says “I’m fine, thanks.”

When the guy walks away, Cas moves to lean on the counter by his side. Dean feels the familiar weight of his arm against his and he wonders if they could pick up the conversation where they left it. But Cas says:

“That was nice of you.”

Dean shrugs looking down at their shoes lined up and for some reason he thinks it’s a funny sight. If they were just two shoe wearing creatures standing side by side and nothing more, perhaps some things would be easier.

“Doesn't really change my life. And it's a good story,” he huffs a laugh, it comes out bitter, “Better than some of the true ones anyway.”

“I understand what you mean,” says Cas with a sigh and Dean extends his arm to offer him his beer, and even though Cas usually refuses, this time he takes it.

Dean does his best not to follow his hand bringing the bottle to his lips. And he does his best, later, not to wonder if the wetness touching his lips when he drinks is just beer or something else.

If they were just two drinking creatures, sharing a bottle of beer and nothing more, perhaps everything would be easier.

Soon the bottle is empty and Cas says, “I’ll get you another one,” but Dean refuses.

It’s nice there - someone's turned the music on in the other room, but here it's muffled by the walls, and the light is just right to make Cas’ eyes look like sapphires. They don’t need to move.

But then the group of hunters out in the patio erupts in laughter and Cas’ gaze shifts on them and then lingers on the glass door.

Dean feels him slipping from him once again. He sighs, “You wanna go out, check the garden?”

Cas nods and heads out and Dean can’t do anything but follow, past the hunters and the patio. They walk the perimeter of the small square of grass, wet and glistening with old rain. The sun and the clouds draw patches of light on the ground and they move from dark to light to dark again in an irregular rhythm, chasing the warmth of the sunlight and the relief of the shade. Dean feels uncomfortable in both, but there’s no middle line he can walk on.

“Sorry we dragged you here,” he finds himself saying, “You never stick around, and for once that you do, that’s what you get.”

Cas frowns slightly at him, “I stick around,” he protests.

Dean laughs, “You don’t,” he says and although he tries to reign it in with the bitterness, it stills seeps out. Cas’ gaze prompts him to explain himself, “Come on, the minute we’re done with a case you are out of here. I don’t blame you,” he quickly adds cutting off whatever Cas was opening his mouth to say. “I know you don’t like sitting around. Believe me, no one understands that more than I do.”

A long beat passes and then Cas says, “I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel like I don’t want to spend time with you.”

Dean stops in his tracks and Cas stops with him to face him.

Dean shakes his head, “Cas, you don’t have to apologize to me. This is not about me. And I said, I get it,” he shrugs.

Cas doesn’t look at all convinced and Dean doesn’t feel at all convinced either. He knows this is not about his feelings. It’s more like a general way of how things are. It’s a truth, a fact. Sam would say the same.

Sam would. Standing here in the garden with him, Sam would tell him the very same things and wish for the very same things. He’s sure he would. He's not accusing Cas of anything. On the contrary, he’s showing him understanding.

“It’s all the same for me, I swear. I don't care,” he adds, but saying that hurts a little, for some reason he can’t quite determine, and he finds his own frown mirrored on Cas’ face.

“Alright,” he says, sounding profoundly sad and again the same shadow passes on his face.

This is all wrong. What did he do?

“Look, I don’t get what you want me to say. If you wanted to - ” he exhales, angrily, “Just - forget it, let’s go back inside,” he says but as he tries to walk away Cas stops him by his elbow.

“You could ask me.”

He looks unsure, troubled, as if he is not quite certain this is a good idea. Dean breathes out a confused, “What?” that he himself can barely hear.

Cas squares his shoulders, “To stay. You could ask me,” he sounds accusing, and he takes a step forward. His eyes are firm in Dean’s and with his elbow still in his grip, he feels like a hummingbird flapping his wings in the paw of a dragon, “You ask everybody else.”

Dean’s heart starts pounding. He tries to swallow but his mouth is too dry.

“I don’t wanna ask you, Cas,” he says, cutting, yanking his arm free of his hold, and it sounds bad, bad, bad to his ears and he can read hurt all over Cas’ face. He needs to explain himself. He takes a breath, says a lame, “I mean, if you don't -”

And then, Dean suddenly understands.

Cas thinks he doesn’t -

He thinks he doesn’t care if he’s around and doesn’t ask because he doesn’t need him.

Dean feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest. He’s not ready for this. He’s not ready for this. He fights the need to look down. He doesn’t know why this is so hard for him. It’s just Cas. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It’s Cas. It would hurt ten times more if he were to say no. It’s nothing like with Claire, he asked her for her; it’s nothing like with Eileen, he asked her for Sam. But if he asked Cas, he would be asking for himself, wouldn’t he?

Seeing him walk away anyway would be too much then.

But maybe he wouldn’t.

Cas senses his struggle, “If you want, you can ask me,” he says, coming closer, in his eyes his timeless patience, that gaze that tells him that he is seen, he is known. Cas says: “I will say yes,” and it’s barely more than a whisper but Dean’s brain is a step away from short-circuiting anyway.

He looks away and he doesn’t recognize his own voice when he blurts out a hurried, muttered, nervous, almost angry: “Well, stay, then.”

But then a sunbeam decides to cut through the clouds in that exact moment and has Dean looking up again. The lazy sunlight of an early afternoon shines on Cas’ face. He’s not bothered by the sudden change of light, unlike Dean, who has to squint and bring a hand to his forehead.

Cas’ eyes sparkle like shimmering water when he says, “Okay.”

Dean barely remembers what happens after that. That image gets imprinted behind his eyelids and he can’t stop thinking about it.

He floats through a darts game and a dozen of Carol’s sandwiches. Then there's Jack telling an embarrassing story about him that has people folding in two with laughter, and Claire agreeing on following them back to the bunker only with the promise of destroying him at foosball.

There's Sam introducing him to this lady to work a job together on alledged arachnes activity in Winsconsin and a girl who wants him to debunk some stuff she's heard about them but she doesn't believe (he disappoints her cause they are mostly true) but most importantly, there's Cas' thigh pressed against his when he's sitting and Cas’ shoulder just an inch away when he's standing, and somehow it's different than it was before.

Most of all, he feels lighter than he's felt in ages.

Later, as he gets to his car with Sam, he says, “Hey, you know, you were right. It was a little fun,” and his brother looks at him in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? We came here to meet new people and you spent all your time with Cas.”

Dean shrugs, embarrassed to be called out. “So what? You spent all your time with Eileen,” he says and he regrets it immediately, especially as Sam purses his lips like he’s holding back a laugh.

He nods, “I see your point,” he says diplomatically, stressing the t, before he slips into the passenger seat.

Dean doesn’t look forward in continuing the conversation, crammed in a small space with his ears burning and Sam’s gigantic enquiring eyes on him, thank you very much, so he stays out of the car, his arms crossed on the roof, frowning at himself.

He watches as Cas comes down the little pathway with Jack and Claire. In the orange light of the sunset, Jack turns to ask him something and Cas nods. Typical. At the end of the path they split and only Cas makes his way across the street.

"Jack is riding with Claire," he says as soon as he's within earshot. He sounds like he doesn't think it's a good idea and it's a little funny.

"Relax, we're gonna be right behind them."

Cas seems reassured by that, but it only lasts the time it takes for him to make his way around the car, because even before he can grab the car handle, Claire speeds past them shouting, "See you, dorks." Now he looks truly alarmed.

Dean says, "You up for a ride after we drop Sam off?” and all his worry melts away from his face. He says a soft, “Alright,” and disappears into the backseat.

So when they get to the bunker, Dean doesn't follow Claire’s car to the garage and stops up front, the engine running. Sam looks at him confused, “We’ll be here in an hour,” Dean just says, grateful for the shadows around his face.

Sam is stunned for just a second, then snorts, “Fine guys, I’ll babysit tonight, but next time you gotta ask.”

He gets out and the next moment Cas has taken his seat. He doesn't waste time to pop one of Dean's tapes in the deck as he takes the road again.

Dean rolls his window down and in the night air that ruffles his hair he can smell another storm coming. He turns the music up and meets Cas’ eyes. There’s a smile in there somewhere that mirrors his own.

And - they may not be just two individuals in a car going nowhere and nothing more, and things may not be easy, probably never will, but maybe, Dean thinks, it doesn’t really matter in the end.

#deancas #deancas ficlet #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel #4.9k #this is about how dumb they are #'why doesn't he stay VS why doesn't he ask me to stay' kind of dumb #their usual basically #jack claire and eileen are in this #i wish we got to see more of the hunter community cooperating #in the beginning there were waaay less people - then i guess i just miss crowds #how do you do titles #spncreatorsdaily #my writing #ive been working on this for ages and im still not sure i did it right

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