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e-jaegerenthusiast · 3 years

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aot boys kink hcs

here are some kink hcs i found written on a piece of paper during my super important class 🥴 fr i was sitting in class as my professor gives a lecture— instead of listening i zoned out and wrote different kinks/overall sexual things down and thought if eren, jean, and levi would be into them 🤞🏻

eren art by aidan.k_art on insta

levi cosplay _hakkencoser_ on insta

warnings/tw; like many many kinks 💀

would they let you choke them?

eren: yes. surprisingly, it’s the only dom-like thing he lets you do him. (other than ride him) he would love the thrill of his life in your hands :,) although it would take him a while to let you do it to him. he says it mid-sex, i’ve written something for it with eremika here ;)

jean: yes yes yes. he loves it so much, gets him whining and moaning

levi: i feel like he’s claustrophobic :( so he’ll let you put your hands around his neck, just don’t put in any pressure. the first time you did it was when you were riding him, you didn’t really think much of it as you put your hands around his neck, giving pressure with your fingers. suddenly his lust-filled droopy eyes turned into one of horror. pulling you off of him as he grabbed his own throat, coughing. you apologized so fucking much and hated yourself for it. he hugged you and told you it was okay, that he’s sorry but it brings him ptsd and makes him uneasy :(

choke you?

eren: surprisingly, no 😳 i feel like he would love to see his own purple fingerprints on your hips. however, he doesn’t like the bruises he leaves on your neck, he inspects them with a frown, kissing all of them and burying his head in your neck. once he chokes you, he feels animalistic. more than ever. its like he doesn’t trust himself to put your life that closely in his hands :(( so once he doesn’t do it anymore, you don’t ask him why. you know him. you know what goes on in his head.

jean: only if you ask him to, he’d be scared to apply too much pressure tho, so he’d do it lightly

levi: yesyesyes. i feel like levi would do all dom things to you mostly when he’s mad at something or at you. he’s the type to grab you by the neck and kiss you passionately. awooga

would they whine?

eren: very. very. very rare. only if somehow you’ve managed to take the upper hand.

jean: yessir. definitely. mommy kink all the way.

levi: mostly no. although he really really needs to. he wont let himself. mostly grunts. although he does when you’re sucking him off, he whimpers and tries to hide it, but you humming around his length throws him over the edge.

would they overstimulate you?

eren: all fuckinggg day. he doesn’t care if you can’t anymore. shaking? pffttt suck it up. literally

jean: only if he’s super horny. would do it if you want to.

levi: not really. he likes it when you overstimulate him 👀— doesn’t really ask you to, however you can obviously tell by the way he bucks up his hips into you or your hand even tho he just came.

their fave position?

eren: he absolutely loves spooning you, fucking into you as your warm back is pressed against his chest, your back arching and head going to his shoulder when he hits that special spot in you and kisses your neck. he can easily hit your g-spot in this postition, loves when you squirm against his chest. his hand holding you close. —he also loves the most weirdest positions omg- he likes bending you in ways that could almost break you like a pretzel - your thighs pressed against your chest, your legs at a wide angle resting on his shoulder—you must take yoga classes for this man he loves fucking you in the positions🥴 even upside down

jean: he loves loves loves when you ride him. he’s called a horse for a reason😩 also loves mirror sex. we know he can get cocky sometimes, so he loves fucking you infront of the mirror as he holds your jaw and forces your eyes on the mirror, fucking you hard. also is a sucker for passionate/slow missionary.

levi: doggy. fuck yes he loves it. or reverse cowgirl omf— loves the view sm. not that he doesn’t like to see your face in sex omg😭 it’s just- he prefers it that way cuz he kinda doesn’t want you to see him, in all his vulnerability. :,) its rare he lets you. but when he does omg- the image is burned into your memory, his face and the way it contorts into pleasure, his thin brows going up as his mouth is wide open— or he’s clenching his jaw.

would they agree to you handcuffing/tying them?

eren: no. he likes to be free LMAO i’m sorry

jean: yes. definitely. finds it so hot but still tugs on them so so much and begs you to untie him.

levi: won’t admit it but he loves it. eventually comes around. pounces on you like a wild dog when you untie him and fucks the shit out of you. grunting as he calls you a brat for tying him.

would they tie you up?

eren: 100% fucker loves to see you squirming.

jean: not really, he tries it out of curiosity but just doesn’t know what the fuck to do without your touch. likes it better the other way ‘round.

levi: yes. he would like to take revenge for you tying him up. would def torture and edge you a lot.

let you blindfold them?

eren: never. would like to see you and every single expression on your face.

jean: yes. loves it. makes him so so sensitive and he loves the thrill of not knowing where he’s gonna feel your touch.

levi: maybe. if you really beg him and annoy him for it.

blindfold you?

eren: yes yes yes do i even need to elaborate

jean: not really. same as tying you up, he would get too nervous and flustered and not know what to do.

levi: absolutely. he’d actually almost chuckle at how responsive you are to his touch. he’d literally just sit there for minutes, gliding his hands over all parts of your body, your arms, legs, thighs, stomach. loses sense of time as he plays with your body.

would they let you peg them?

eren: absolutely not. fucking scoffs and chuckles at you and mocks you when you suggest it.

jean: yes. with persuasion. he’s mostly open and experimental. would he end up liking it? maybe. he finds the feeling very weird at first, but asks you with a blush if you can do it again another time.

levi: no— thinks it’s disgusting.

anal?

eren: yes. yes. yes. would absolutely destroy you. loves the tight asf feeling.

jean: would try, doesn’t like it. makes him cum too fast 💀

levi: thinks it’s filthy.

breeding kink?

eren: yes. loves filling you up. doesn’t like baby talk tho— he hates kids 💀💀 is sorry but maybe eventually?

jean: likes to cum on your back, stomach, or tits more. however he loves the idea of having a family with you. definitely cums in you while baby talk + “you’d be such a good mommy.”

levi: he rarely cums in you, you’d have to beg him to or wrap your legs around his torso, then he can’t stop himself. doesn’t trust condoms or birth control. he’d say there’s still a chance of you getting pregnant 🥴— not that he doesn’t want a baby with you- not yet tho. he needs to warm up to the idea of becoming a dad. trauma n all yk.

jealous seggs?

eren: definitely. he’s possessive.

jean: definitely. he’s insecure :(

levi: yes but doesn’t admit it (surprise surprise) not a lot tho, he knows he has you wrapped around his finger. doesn’t really show his jealousy much. lets it eat away at him silently:/

lets you pull their hair?

eren: hell no. you do it anyway , he goes absolutely feral.

jean: yes. loves it so so much. also open to basically anything that makes you happy

levi: even tho he doesn’t like anyone touching his face or his hair, he warms up to it. likes the feeling of your hands in his hair. (also- mostly kiss his scars. he’ll actually cry. oop imma write a fic on that ✍🏻) he also loves loves loves when you shampoo his hair for him. gets him turned on. did y’all know thats an actual kink

would they spank you?

eren: definitely. more mid-fucking to see your reaction and the way you clench around him.

jean: likes to hold and squeeze your ass more as you ride him.

levi: oh fuck yeah. when you act like too much of a brat, he makes you go on all fours, or lay on your chest on his thighs, giving you spanks and making you count. talking to you after each spank, “will you be a brat again, huh?” spank, “you do it on purpose dont you? like to rile me up? hm? get me fucking mad like this?” another spank as he molds the flesh of your ass with his palm after each one, holding himself back from kissing the flesh.

face slapping?

already made drabbles for you slapping them

eren: yes yes yes. he would be a sucker for the innocent look in your eyes as tears swell up in them. he would do it repeatedly and keep bringing your jaw back to look at him after each slap.

jean: no, he doesn’t have it in his heart 🥺 would love if you did it to him.

levi: this is very difficult. i’ll leave it for you to decide between these two; 1. he doesn’t lay his hand on women. (spanking’s an exception in his book, other than that, hell no) 2. he only does it when he’s angry. like genuinely mad at you during sex, so that’s how he takes it out on you. but kisses you afterwards.

dacryphilia?

eren: hell yeah he loves when you cry for his cock, for him. this fucker does anything on purpose just to make you cry. gives a sadistic smile when tears finally come to your eyes.

jean: no, he wouldn’t wanna make you cry. although you do cry for his horse cock😩 he’d have a concerned expression on his face as he wipes you tears with his thumb, “what’s wrong ,baby?”

levi: absolutely not. literally despises crying. for himself and other. especially you. he’d wipe your tears as soon as they come when his dick is in your throat.

knife play?

eren: YES. he would purposely put a little pressure on the knife to scare you. this mfs a sadist. but he would be very careful to not hurt you. (if you ask why he would be into this but not choking you, it’s cuz with a knife, he knows he won’t actually fuckin stab you. he has control over the knife. his hands, he’s afraid not.) pain

jean: no omg— he would think you’re joking at first, his face forms the most horrid expression as he asks you if that’s an actual thing💀

levi: yes, he would never put pressure on the knife tho. he’d only glide it accross your body teasingly, the cold blade making you shiver under his touch as his eyes go dark. would like to do it to you when you’re blindfolded. doesn’t want you to see that dark look in his eyes.

blood play?

eren: yes. he likes to sometimes bite on your lower lip so hard it draws blood, he would keep kissing you, the iron-like taste not bothering him the slightest. it turns him on. also loves when you make him bleed by scratching your nails on his back, he throws his head back and fastens his thrusts 😩

jean: not really, my baby would get concerned— blood makes him uneasy 🥺

levi; absolutely not. too much ptsd and trauma from the sight of blood. doesn’t wanna see it painting your soft skin at all.

gun play?

eren: not really, he’s too violent to be handling a gun in sex.

jean: no—

levi: yes. he’d empty the gun beforehand tho, without you knowing.

candle wax 😳

eren: not really, he doesn’t like the redness it brings to your skin afterwards.

jean: likes if you do it on him, fucking loses it. he actually cries and whimpers, making you concerned but he nods his had swiftly, urging you to continue. likes the burn, reminds him of your touch, it’s not really any different from the burns your fingertips leave on him upon your touch.

levi: yes omfg- he loves it. he would also blindfold you for this one, probably tie you up too. loves to see you squirming in this situation. (omg i read this one fic on wattpad called “submit” and he was using candle wax and ice— AWOOGA)

ice play?

eren: yes yes yes, he’d run the ice down your stomach after rolling it on your nipples with his hands, he’d put it on your clit and chuckle as you squirm from the coldness of it. goes down on you to warm you up with his tongue afterwards.

jean: he likes it when you use it on him. holding the ice between your teeth as you run it over his nipples and down his chest. he’d be squirming and moaning.

levi: fuck yes. he’d put it in his mouth and kiss you with it, the ice melting between both of your tongues as he hums in your mouth. he’d also run it down your stomach and your nipples as he holds it in his mouth. the contrast of the cold ice and his warm tongue making you moan and whimper beneath him.

podophilia (foot fetish) dont read that as pedophilia uhm💀

eren: not really no, never crosses his mind.

jean: yes yes yes. omg absolutely this man having a foot fetish is canon to me😩 he’d love you giving him a foot job omf- would whine so much. also would kinda like licking your anckles and your toes as you giggle

levi: uhm. you must already know this clean freak. he thinks it’s fucking disgusting. i agree with him

ear fetish

eren: he likes it when you nibble on it or bite the shell of his ear. absolutely his weakest and sensitive spot

jean: not really idk why but no

levi: would nibble and tug on your ear as he’s fucking you, head burried in your neck as he pants and grunts.

food play?

eren: would loved to drizzle honey or whipped cream on you and lick it off your chest or stomach.

jean: would love for you too do it to him, with whipped cream or chocolate on his abs and chest, even his neck. he’d be a moaning, panting mess.

levi: does not like to involve food with sex 💀

chastity (holding back from sex to rile themselves or you up)

eren: hell no💀 he’s an impatient fuckin bastard. cannot handle going without fucking you for more than a couple days

jean: would love for you to do it to him. would beg you and plead as his cock throbs for days, though you know he likes it when you don’t give it to him instantly.

levi: yes yes yes. he would make himself go without sex for weeks. you have to beg him to stop and just let you fuck him, but he’d mutter sum about needing to “train his own stamina and self control, and your patience, brat.” but when you do break through him, trying to seduce him after weeks, it would be some of the best sex y’all have. going for rounds on rounds.

voyeurism

eren: as much as i love the “eren watching you fuck jean/reiner”— i think his possessive self will never ever let another man touch you. i mean cmon have u even read 139 🥲

jean: dont do that to him 🥺 he’s gonna be super insecure like omg- no

levi: absolutely not. do not test this man. he might not show his jealousy openly but you are his and only his.

role playing?

eren: i feel like he’s not that into it but he’d do it, he’s very picky so hmm maybe good cop and bad cop? 👀

jean: as i mentioned before, he’s very experimental and would do almost anything you ask of him, so yes. he’d be into doctor/patient ;) he likes it more when you’re the doctor but you can switch too oh my god bye now i’m thinking about jean in a white thingy doctors wear omf

levi: only captain/subordinate 😩😩😩

daddy kink

eren: not really, it makes him think about being an actual dad which turns him off 💀 sorry to crush yalls dreams 🤞🏻

jean: as i said, mommy kink. though he would like it if you addressed him as daddy while he takes control.

levi: no💀 finds it fucking weird. lowkey makes him sad n think about his dad and who he is or where he is he like being called captain sometimes tho ;)

degrading?

eren: fuck yes likes degrading you all the way. “look at you, my little slut.” “such a whore for my cock hm?”

jean: would like to be degraded 😁

levi: would keep it on the minimum— occasional “brat”s or “dumbass” jdjsjs nothing too intense. he has a way with his words :)

somnophilia sneaked this in at 200 when i forgot to add it cuz it’s my absolute fave kink

eren: he’d play with your body for minutes on minutes, loves to see you so responsive to his touch even in your sleep. he rubs slow circles on your clit, to get you wet. raises his brows when he notices you’re already soaked in your sleep. he literally fucks you awake. shoves his length in you balls deep as you scream and wake up— hitting his chest as he chuckles at you

jean: you’d both be asleep, until you wake up to the feeling of jean humping your thigh, whimpering in his slumber softly, you smirk. he’s chasing his high in his dream, mumbling your name as it’s barely recognizable. he wakes up to your mouth wrapped around him, cumming so fast as soon as he realizes he’s awake.

levi: he barely gets any sleep. but as he’s laying down next to you, head buried in his book while you’re stuck to him like a koala, he’s content. having one arm wrapped around your body and hand stopping at your waist. he’s brought out of the focus of his book by you moving against him. at first he thinks you’re waking up for some reason, then is proved wrong when you’re repeatedly grinding against his thigh, your leg wrapped around it. he chuckles, catching himself off guard. he watches as you hum in your sleep and say his name. he starts slowly meeting your grinds against his thigh, shaking it. he’s now rock hard in his shorts, teasing your hole through your panties with the hands on your back. you end up cumming in your sleep, he cums in his pants. fuck.

••••••••••

and there we have it— sorry if i left anything out- these are all the kinks i could think of for now 🥴

also ik i usually write hcs for aot and jjk boys but with this one, i kinda felt like only doing aot. since the paper i found had these 3 boys written on it 🤪

#aot #snk #snk smut #aot smut #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #jean smut #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirchstein #jean x reader #eren jaeger #eren smut #eren x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi smut #levi ackerman smut

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 17

Request: Yes or No

For anyone curious and if I did my math correctly y/ns dad had him when he was 35. This one feels short and I hate ittt but I tried making it feel longer. The chunks are just thicc

"So, why are we going to Belgium?" Natasha asked, setting the course. You looked at her, taking a seat beside her.

"Cause.. I have family there.. She might be family, I don't now." You answered, feeling the jet move forward before it took off into the sky.

"Family? Like, blood related? Who?" Natasha asked, glancing at you. You licked your lips, staring forward.

"My aunt." Natasha's brows raised, looking over at you. You sighed, nodding.

"What if she turns me away?" You asked softly.

"Well.. You're probably her only remaining family. I wouldn't want to turn away a family member." Natasha licked her lips, looking forward at the passing clouds.

"What do I even say? Hey, I'm (Y/N) and I have superpowers?"

"Well, you can introduce yourself and ask about her brother." Natasha gave a small smile. You nodded.

"How's Clint?" Natasha asked, rested her head on her fist. Her hair was long and her natural red locks were returning. It made her hair look a little weird but she was going through a lot of things.

"Who fucking knows." You frowned, arms crossing. Clint had fucked off to god knows where, leaving you to deal with your grief alone. Natashas' brows furrowed.

"Clint has decided not to return home in what feels like weeks. Maybe even months, I haven't been paying attention." You shrugged lightly. Natasha frowned, leaning back in the seat. Definitely didn't sound like Clint but grief could make people do crazy things.

"I've been trying to keep up with the house but I'm just one guy handling everything Clint decided to build and add on." You licked your lips, shaking your head and letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry." Natasha said softly, giving your arm a squeeze. "I'll talk to him if you want."

"Let him do whatever the hell he wants to do. He's a grown man." You replied, feeling bitter and resentful. Natasha silently nodded. The rest of the ride was silent until the jet reached Belgium.

"We're here." You stepped out of the jet, feeling a small breeze go by. You felt your stomach doing flips, heartbeat quickening. You took in a deep breath, glancing at Natasha. She placed a gentle hand on your back, offering a small smile.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get in touch with Clint?" She asked, head tilting. You shook your head.

"It could make things more complicated." You said, looking around. The house across the street matched with the address Tony had given you. It was more on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees. You could hear some horses behind the house. You took in a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves as you walked towards the house, crossing the road. Natasha followed, studying the area.

"Seems like gardening might run in the family." Natasha said, motioning to the flower garden.

"Yeah.." You chuckled softly. You stepped onto the porch, noticing some plotted flowers on the windowsill. You raised your hand, pressing the doorbell. You waited a few minutes about to press it again before the door opened. A scowl appeared on Florines' face. She was shorter than you had imagined. Her hair was a bit messy and tied back into a low ponytail.

"Wat wil je?" She asked, gaze flickering over to Natasha. You swallowed, fiddling with your fingers.

"Are you Florine De Meyers?" You asked, watching her narrow her eyes.

"Who's asking?"

"(Y/N).. I think I might be the son of your brother." You said quietly. Florine stared at you, lips parting. Her features softened for a second before the frown returned. She opened the door wider, letting you and Natasha inside. The inside of the house smelled like black tea, earthy and floral. It felt straight out of a country movie.

"I've got some tea and speculoos." Florine called as she entered the kitchen. You looked at the pictures she had up. Most were pictures of horses or her at events with friends. You didn't see any pictures that seemed family related. You took a seat on the floral patterned couch, gazing dropping onto the unbothered elderly sheepdog. It made no attempt to move and simply rolled onto its side to face away from you.

"That's Gerdie. Old girl used to be a good guard dog but now she's more of a house cat." Florine said, sitting down and placing a tray on the coffee table. Natasha reached forward, taking one of the biscuits. Florine reached under the table, looking through the books she had before pulling out what looked like a photo book.

"The reason I didn't slam the door in your face is because Michael had told me he was gonna have a kid named (Y/N)." Florine said, hand wiping away the dust in the book. She scooted forward, placing the book on the table.

"Michael?" You repeated, looking at her. She nodded, opening the book. She flipped to the second page, pointing to a picture of a young boy by a fireplace opening presents.

"Michael, my half brother and your father." Your brows raised, leaning in to take a better look. The photo was old but you could see his face clearly. Natasha leaned in as well, smiling gently.

"You have his smile." She pointed out.

"Michael and his father moved here from America when he was about five. He met my mother and they got married. They had me when Michael was nine. He was a good brother. He held no resentment towards me or my mom. Michael was as stubborn as a mule and he could never keep his mouth shut. He'd let you know if he didn't agree with you." Florine chuckled, shaking her head. You watched the nostalgic look pass over her eyes.

"What happened to him?" You asked softly. Florine let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair. She reached down, giving Gerdie some pats on the head.

"He disappeared for some time." She answered, gaze becoming distant.

"He wrote letters occasionally. Said he was working for a government in another country.. He might've been some sort of spy, my memory's a little fuzzy on the subject. He spent a long time working but.. He came back eventually. He never talked about it but he was good ole Michael." Florine leaned forward again, flipping to another page of a more grown up Michael. You did notice some similar features between him and you.

"By then, our father had passed from cancer and my mother needed all the help she could get. Michael built this house with some friends of his and gave it to my mother. Oh, my mother was so happy. She got the farm she had always wanted and got to garden whenever she could." Florine pointed to a a couple in the photobook.

"This is your grandmother, Sylvie. You would've loved her. She made the best cakes in town. This is your grandfather, Jonathan. He was always up to no good. He loved pulled helping the kids in town with pranks." Florine spoke of them fondly. Her childhood seemed to have been good with Jonathon and Sylvie.

"You have powers, right?" Florine asked, looking at you. You nodded, reaching out to the plant on the coffee table and watching it grow taller.

"She passed on her powers to you." Florine leaned back, clearing her throat. You glanced at Natasha, noticing her eating another biscuit.

"She? Who's she?" You asked, looking back at Florine.

"Your witch of a mother." She answered bitterly. You raised your brows at the hate and disgust in her tone.

"I shouldn't speak ill of her. Even if she deserves it." Florine muttered, standing up with a heavy sigh.

"C'mon." She motioned for you to follow. You turned towards Natasha. Natasha picked up another biscuit, making eye contact with you. You raised your brows.

"What? These are delicious!" Natasha huffed. You chuckled, standing up and following her out the backdoor. You noticed the stables with the horses walking around their fenced area. Florine had a vegetable garden and a greenhouse out back as well.

"Those pretty babies are Ernie, Kuma, and Goldie." Florine said, motioning to the horses. They approached the fence when she walked over to them. You smiled softly as she petted them, cooing in Dutch.

"They won't bite. Well, Ernie might but he's just a playful old man." Florine chuckled, turning back in the original direction. You followed her down a dirt path and into a wooded area. You blinked, seeing what looked like a moss covered statue of a woman. Her eyes were closed though her head was pointed downwards, looking at anyone who walked down the path.

"She was a charming little witch, I'll give her that." Florine crossed her arms, staring up at the statue. You tilted your head, licking your lips.

"Did he make this for her?" You asked, turning to look at her. Florine shook her head, looking down at the ground.

"Gaia, or better known as Mother Nature, is your mother. She took a human form in an attempt to convince humans to cherish what she had given them. When that proved useless, she spread plagues as punishment. What Gaia truly wanted.. Was a child. Animals, humans, and all those things were creations.. Projects she could ignore if she got bored. She met your father and he fell for her." Florine told you, another breeze blowing by. You reached your hand forward, gently touching a flower that rested by the statue. It felt full of life.

"Your mother fell pregnant with you and Michael was thrilled. Gaia had started realizing that human life wasn't for her. She was slowly becoming human herself. She disappeared with Michael and returned without him or you. She explained she couldn't stay and left her human body here."

"She abandonded me for no reason?" You stared up at the statue, features hardening.

"In some sense, she didn't. She's all around us so.. Your mother never truly left you." Florine said, turning to look at you. You scoffed.

"I have a mother. Her name is Laura Barton and she's not here anymore because of Thanos." You looked at Florine, blinking away tears.

"I don't blame you for being angry. I never found out where she took you or if you were even alive. If you want to keep in touch, I don't mind. Lord knows I could use the company." Florine looked forward again. You let out a soft sigh, shoulders slumping.

"And.. And dad? What happened to him?" You asked hesitantly, almost afraid of finding out he had done the same as Gaia. Florine stayed silent for a moment.

"He.. They never told me how it happened but.. He was murdered." Florine revealed, staring at the ground with a small frown. You stared at him, brows furrowing.

"What? By- By who?"

"You might've heard of him. People around town were talking about him a two or three years back. The infamous Winter Soldier."

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x you #avengers #avengers x male reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #avengers x reader #clint barton #clint barton x adopted reader #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #tony stark

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jay-and-dean · 3 years

Text

Stolen Crown Chapter 1 : Under the hood

By @roonyxx and @jay-and-dean

Pairings : Dean x reader ? Kight!Dean x reader ?

Summary : What happens when she is sent in a world that isn’t hers, but with very familiar faces ?

This, as much as it looks like it, is not ‘technically’ an AU, because your Dean, our Dean, exists too...

Serie Warnings : Smut (please be 18+), Fluff, Angst, Swearing. Mention of physical pain. Each Chapter will have detailled warnings.

Chapter warnings : Swearing for now.

Chapter Wordcound : 3230

Note : This is a collaboration beetween both of us. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like for Firefly.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

Text divider by the awesome @talesmaniac89

Want to read more:

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

Whistling.

Only a shrill whistling in her ears, and her heart pounding hard in her temples…

She holds her head and tries to get up, but the ground seems unsure of where it is supposed to be.

“Dean ?” she tries with a weak voice but, even with the high-pitched sound fading quickly, she can’t hear any answer. “Dean !”

She opens her eyes and they widen right away.

The seedy warehouse is gone, the smell of gasoline and the night are too… But above all, he is gone. Dean is nowhere to be seen.

Instead : A sunny beautiful forest. Shiny rays of lights come through the radiant, high trees and birds are signing. So many birds.

“Shit” she grunts, looking around. “DEAN ! SAMMY !”

But her voice echoes and dies in the woods, only making a few rodents run through the bushes, themselves moving some butterflies and bees. Nothing else.

Where was she sent ? Is it witchcraft or some stupid God ? She had told them that this case seemed more complicated than what they said ! And here she is, probably miles from home.

“Please, tell me I’m still in the United states” she whimpers, taking her phone from her jeans shorts pocket. “No come on ! No signal now ?”

After pacing around to try and find any sign of signal, she gives up and puts the useless phone back in her pocket, regretting her morning choice to wear only a t-shirt and shorts, because if she has to walk miles to find a road, the night might be here before she finds her friends again, and nights are colder out there.

“DEAN ! DEAN !” she tries again.

But he is obviously not with her.

What if he had been sent far too ? What if he was in an indian market now ? Or in a boat on the australian seas ?

“Sammy you have to find us” she mutters, looking around to gather clues.

This forest is not tropical or northern, it’s a temperate one, and it’s obviously still early summer…

Suddenly, hooves disturb the forest’s calm in the distance, rapidly approaching her. The metal clattering with every step the big animal -probably a horse- takes, says it’s not alone…

She quickly moves in the bushes and stills behind a large tree to hide herself from whoever is coming.

“Your highness ?” a deep, oddly familiar, voice calls.

Her back flat against the tree, she turns her head a little to be able to see beyond the thick bark, holding her breath and reaching for the knife in her boot.

A beautiful, massive shiny black horse is nervously stepping on the ground while the owner of the mare pats it on the neck.

“Easy girl” the man says.

She frowns, keeping the dagger in her hand, ‘that voice… I know it.’ When she dares to look between the leaves, her eyes widen.

“Dean?” she says with a confused smile, putting the knife back in her boot, as she steps from out of the bushes.

“My Queen !” he throws his leg over the majestic black horse and steps off, right away going down on one knee in front of her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I have been looking for you, my Queen” he says towards the ground, not looking up to her once.

“Queen ?” she huffs, still a little dizzy. “Where the Hell are we, Dean ? And what the fuck are you wearing, is that... a freaking armor?” she asks, pointing at his weird clothes.

Dean finally tilts his head upwards. And when he sees her, his eyes nearly fall out of his head, his mouth is open but no words leave his lips. The more he stares at her like she was naked, the more she starts to feel a little self conscious.

His eyes slowly travel up her bare legs, a confused expression on his face, when she bends a little to make eye contact with him he quickly adverts his gaze.

“Your Majesty, what happened to your robes ? Are you harmed ?” he asks, obviously worried.

“Cut the crap, Dean, what’s happening ? Where are we ?” she asks, annoyed.

“We are in the…” he looks around a little, apparently wondering what to answer. “In the woods… Not far from the Castle, my Queen” he says.

She stares at him, mouth agape, a deep feeling of confusion replacing the annoyance totally. Her tone changes to something colder, more distant.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘queen’ ?” she asks. “And what’s up with the stupid clothes ?”

He dares looking up at her again, a sorry frown on his face.

“My apologies, your Highness. I do not understand… Is there something wrong with my apparel ?” he stands up, his eyes searching her face. “Did you hit your head or have you fallen maybe ? You disappeared, my Queen. I have been so worried” he turns to his horse to retrieve a big grey fur cloak. “What happened to your gown, did someone attack you ?”

His head low, he comes closer to carefully drape the very heavy cape around her shoulders.

“I obviously failed at my duty” his eyes are dark and she clearly recognizes that crushing guilt on his features

She touches the floor length fur coat he put around her with a frown. It’s pleasantly warm outside, there is no need for this...

Everything he does is weird, and why does he look so different ? Was he hit by a spell of some weird stuff like that time he was losing his memory ?

Unless…

She takes in his appearance. He looks exactly like him but he has more scruff, and his hair is a little longer, his clothes are very strange too.

The closer she looks, through the fading cloud in her mind, the more this costume he is wearing really doesn’t look like one. All the layers of leather and metal make him look like he was ready for war, and his shoulders are even more broad under the armor he is wearing.

Everything about him seems heavy and powerful : Between the metal on his chest, the big belt holding several weapons, including the scabbard of that seems to hold a very authentic sword, the real huge grey fur around his shoulder, like he had killed a wolf…

She shivers at how impressive he looks, at how she realizes she doesn’t know anything about him..

“Shit…” she mutters realizing this is not her Dean at all.

This is not the United states of America, and this is probably not even her world… But if the Dean from around here is willing to protect her, that might be her best chance of survival.

She clears her throat, nodding to encourage herself to play along.

“No... I’m…” she suddenly has no idea how to use her voice. “I’m okay and I am your queen, because you are my…?” she leaves the sentence open, hoping he’ll answer it.

“Your knight” he says, uncertain.

Knight, right… She nods and looks around once more.

If this is some kind of fucked up middle age alternate universe, there is a big chance that the forest is going for miles and miles, and an even bigger chance that she starves to death before Sammy finds a way to bring her back to the Instagram century. And dressed like that, she might have to fear more than wolves…

She stares at him for a minute and he seems to be just waiting for orders, his green eyes on the floor.

“Kneel” she says with a corner smile and he just does, with no question, comment or delay.

Dean Winchester obeying her to the letter… If that is not a good side of this whole crap !

“You can get up” she chuckles, letting him stand on his feet again.

But her amusement quickly fades.

Royalty is not really the easiest undercover, and the discretion will be impossible. She wants to ask for help but, even if her whole body and soul tell her she can trust Dean -for it is still Dean-, her eyes travel the thick leather covering his forearms and she remembers she doesn’t know him.

So maybe she better stay silent for now, and follow his lead until she decides if he is an ally.

“Your Majesty” he speaks, with a deference she never heard from him. “If the news of your disparition comes to the Council, there undoubtedly will be trouble. We should head back now. Please.”

“Y-yes” she nods, a lump growing in her throat.

Council ? Trouble ? Castle ? How is she supposed to deal with all that ? People close to the queen will know she isn’t her in a minute…

The knight offers his hand, and she follows, frowning when he joins his wrists to help her get on the horse.

“This is not the best comfort for travel, your Majesty, for that I am sorry” he apologizes again.

“It’s okay Dean” at her words, he frowns again, but she puts her feet on his wrists and jumps on the tall horse, quickly understanding, by the look on his face, that she is not supposed to ride “like a man”.

Her eyes can’t decide where to look, and her hands can’t decide where to hold him.

Gripping his belt tight in this uncomfortable position, she takes in the unbelievable landscapes before her : Untouched forests and large lakes, small villages down in the valley, with all those wood houses that remember her of Braveheart.

All she can think of is when she is going to tell the boys about everything she saw… If she ever goes back to them.

“Put on your hood, my Queen” the knight asks, so she does.

Her unsure hands grasp the heavy hood of the animal fur around her and she hides her face in the huge hood. He probably needs her to not be recognized.

“What animal is it ?” she asks, touching the hair with a mix of curiosity and disgust.

“Animal, your Majesty ?”

“The hood ?” she asks, quickly grasping his belt again when the horse half jumps above a root.

“My coat is made of a bear” he answers.

“Poor animal…”

He lets a silence and clears his throat slightly.

“I had never thought of it that way, my Queen. Your empathy for the creatures of this world is godly.”

But she stopped listening.

Her breath stuck in her lungs, she discovers the huge, beautiful castle coming in her sight.

A gigantic wall surrounds a little city, itself surrounding a huge, elegant castle. The light stone walls seem to be touching the clouds from here, and a vibrant living noise comes from it.

“Wow” she murmurs, looking up the thin sharp towers surrounded by birds.

“My breath gets cut short each time I see your home in sight too, your Highness” he says with a soft voice.

Inside the walls of the city, everything is different.

People are busy, all dressed like they came from a movie, carrying vegetables and raw pieces of meat, sheeps and baskets of fabric… Each and everyone turning their head at the sound of the huge horse’s steps on the stone pavements.

“Sir Winchester !” a kid exclaims.

She keeps her hood low, suddenly very aware of the trouble that could come from the crowd recognizing their queen.

The knight version of Dean stays unfazed, guiding them to the stables where several horsemen are waiting for him.

He gets off of the horse, helping her and closing his coat neatly on her.

“Keep your head down” he murmurs next to the hood and she just nods, determined to let him guide her. “You” he says louder to one of the men here. “Go tell the guards that the wolf hunt is done. My men can gather again peacefully, nothing is to fear.”

She can’t help but very quickly look up at the man giving orders next to her, his remarkable charisma making her feel so small.

She always looked up at Dean with an infinite admiration, but at least, she knows him… This stranger is different.

“Allow me to touch you” he says under his breath and she just nods again while he wraps his strong arm around her.

Under the hood, she can’t see everything precisely, but the little she can distinguish of the inside of the castle he is guiding her in is enough to amaze her.

Huge corridors and busy servants, carpets that seem to come from a museum, gold and flowers decoration the thick stone walls.

“Sir” a guard comes in their way, bending before Dean in respect. “Your men have been called back. The news never spread outside of the Queen’s guard.”

“Thank you” the knight answers.

“Glory be to the Queen” the guard bows again.

“To the Queen” Dean answers.

The knight guides her further into the castle and up an infinite number of stairs, a serious look on his face. With every step up, the coat on her shoulders feels heavier and heavier, and her apprehension does too.

Once they reach the top, he walks to the left, his heavy boots echoing in the spacious corridor. Still holding her, his grip both reassuring and oppressing, he stops in front of a big wooden door that she may be supposed to recognize.

She looks up at the door a little, still not completely daring to stop hiding under the big hood. He opens the door and stands with his back against the wall, his eyes straight ahead.

She hesitates, waiting for him, but when he doesn’t move, she carefully steps inside, not sure what she will meet on the other side of the massive oak door.

Before her, a large room with thick wooden furniture and rich fabric. In the middle, a queen size bed with wooden bed posts that are near the stone ceiling with wolves carved in each of them. Hanging from the posts, a dark red velvet-like canopy that matches the heavy curtains. A big antique closet stands to the left side of the room.

Taking a cautious step, she looks right. Behind a great arch is another room that holds a big wooden tub covered in a sand-white sheet.

Despite the cold stone everywhere, the many carpets with many different colorful illustrations, the curtains, and candles everywhere makes the room somehow warm.

She stands in the middle of what she guesses is the queen’s room, unsure of what to do now. Looking back to the door, she sees Dean’s elbow from where he is still standing against the wall, straight and still.

“Dean, come inside please” she states, using the most authoritative voice she has.

A queen has to be, right ?

“Yes, your Majesty.”

The knight steps inside immediately, his hands behind his back, his gaze fixated in front of him.

“What are... my plans for today ?” she asks him, trying to figure out what to do, to convince them, a whole Castle and Kingdom, that she is the damn queen.

“The Council requested a parlay with you when the sun is at its highest, and after you have your usual walk in the garden before you talk to the People. I think, Majesty.”

“Right, the Council” she says unsure, wondering what the council can be. “Take me to them.”

She holds her chin high, trying desperately to look like the Hollywood idea she has of how royals act.

His gaze finally finds hers, a small frown is on his face, an expression of confusion growing on his hard but still so beautiful features.

“Do you not wish to be dressed first, my Queen?”

“Oh… yes, I-I do wish that” she nods.

She walks towards the closet and opens it, checking his face in the corner of her eye to try and find clues of what she is supposed to do, but all she can see there is worry for her, well hidden on his bodyguard face.

Inside the huge closet, put in color order, are dresses, all of them big and complicated… And on some shelves, smaller white dresses, that may be for inside or summer. She takes them out.

“This will work” she states to herself as she turns around but stops when she hears Dean gasp.

When she looks up he’s stepping towards the door quickly.

“No wait !” she calls out for him and he stops right in his tracks. “Dean...”

He turns towards her, his gaze on the floor, jaw clenched.

She doesn’t want him to leave. She is, in fact; terrified of being without him. Although he is a stranger, his face is the only thing she knows in this weird place she knows nothing about.

What will they do once they find out their queen disappeared ? Is there a king she has to sleep with ? Do they torture people ? Kill ?

She just needs him close.

“I don’t know what to wear” she admits.

Or even how to wear it, she thinks to herself.

“Any gown makes you look divine, my Queen” he says in a husky voice, still watching the floor intensely.

If the circumstances were different her knees would wobble at what he just said… But he is not Dean, and maybe he just says that to not get his throat slit.

“Okay, I will put on this gown” she says as she lifts the small white dress that she is holding, a questioning look on her face.

The knight swallows hard and seems agitated. For a second, she wonders why he is acting so weird.

“What is it ?” she asks him. “Tell me.”

“Pardon me, your Highness, but that is not a gown” he clears his throat and stands up straighter. “That is your undergarment.”

“Undergarment ?” she looks at the little dress, holding it in front of her by the straps.

Her lips open in an ‘o’ when she understands this is her underwear. She has been flashing him her royal underwear this whole time, of course he was acting weird !

In a quick motion, she hides it behind her back and mutters an apology.

“Yes, my undergarment, of course. I-I will get dressed now” she walks towards her closet to retrieve a big gown in a hum of hesitation.

“Let me just call the maids, your Majesty” he says low.

“Yes ! Oh and Dean ?” she starts, waiting for his gaze to meet hers before she speaks again. “Thank you” she kindly smiles.

The knight nods, turns slowly and steps towards the bedroom door with a determined gait, closing and locking it by sliding the metal rod in the slot.

She frowns, seeing him lock himself with her. His back still on her, he clears his throat before he talks.

“My Queen...” he starts.

With that hunter speed her Dean also has, he suddenly unsheaths his sword from his scabbard and holds its sharp end under her chin without touching her

“Would never have said something like that” he finishes his sentence. “Or call me Dean…”

She searches his face, slowly lifting her hands up in surrender.

“That is because I am not your queen.”

__________

Chapter 2 on @roonyxx‘s blog

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moonlit-han · 4 years

Text

part ii: filled with sunshine

genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 11k part warnings: mature content (18+, specific warnings under the cut), suggestive, explicit language, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction. !! important !!: the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if they are of age. thank you. while the mature content is poetically described, it still exists. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.

~ read part 1 first! ~

✧ series masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

mature content warnings: oral (giving, receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock-warming. again, please read only if you are of age.

↠↞

You woke around 10 am on Saturday morning and just lay there in bed, enjoying the memories of the night before. Everything had been hot and almost desperate, but somehow still gentle. And, there was something about not even making it to your bed because you wanted each other too much . . .. Your pulse quickened and you had to squeeze your legs together as you remembered the feeling of his hands exploring every inch of your body, the feeling of his mouth caressing you, that wonderful sense of almost flying. When you looked down at yourself under the sheets, you weren’t surprised to find bruises across your chest and stomach, and were quite glad that it was winter.

Before you’d done anything besides kiss, Jisung had been forthright in saying that he was disease-free and was very careful with who he was intimate with. (You were the one to bring out a box of condoms, since you never knew when you’d need to provide one). You were delighted that he was so aware and honest, clearly taking his actions seriously and taking responsibility for his part in any relationship. Just knowing that had made you relax and, almost, abandon yourself to each and every sensation. You’d made sure to tell him that you were polyamorous, too, making it clear that you were also safe in your habits. Once you’d gotten the talking out of the way, it hadn’t taken long for you to find that your new couch was, surprisingly, quite comfortable to be pressed into.

As he’d pulled his pants back on, Jisung had insisted that he go back to his apartment, saying he had to be up early to go over some notes on a song before meeting with Chan and Changbin at the studio. You also suspected that, despite the two of you just having sex on your couch, he was a bit shy now. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him—if it had all been planned, then maybe he would’ve stayed, but this was all too new, too unexpected.

After stretching to relieve the stiffness in your lower back, you went to shower and get dressed. When you sat down to eat, you brought your phone and that slip of paper with Jisung’s phone number on it so you could message him. It was only right that you did.

y/n: hey babe, last night was really fun

No, that wouldn’t work. I can’t call him “babe” after hooking up only once.

y/n: hi jisung! it’s y/n. just wanted to say than

No, that really wouldn’t work. Thanking him like that would just trivialize the whole experience.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n. last night was absolutely lovely and, let me say, you were fantastic! i’d love to

Nope, now I’m making him sound like a horse that had won a race or something. Damn.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n~ last night was really great and i’d love to see you again. maybe we could get together for dinner one night or to watch a movie? i want to get to know you better!

There. That was good. Okay . . . send!

You sighed, then promptly bolted out of your seat and hid your phone under a cushion on the couch. Not two minutes later, you heard the faint buzz signaling that you’d received a text message.

jisung: hey y/n! ah, i see you used that piece of paper after all ;) i had a lovely time, too! what’s your favorite movie, then? i can try getting it from the library on my way home. jisung: sorry, let me start that bit over again. i’m busy tonight, but are you free next saturday? i’d love to watch a movie with you.

You giggled at Jisung’s evident enthusiasm, and quickly responded.

y/n: yes, i’m free that night :) maybe surprise me with the movie? jisung: a surprise it is, then! your place or mine? y/n: yours? i’ve never seen your apartment and you’ve seen mine a lot… jisung: ….point taken. i’ll have to clean up a little, but i think you’ll like it :) y/n: what time should i come through the connecting door?

You sighed a little as you sent the text. It was more than a little weird that this was how you were going to see Jisung, especially when front doors existed. But, you figured it was only right that you go through that way a few times, since he’d been going back to his apartment like that for months.

jisung: is 7:30 ok? y/n: sure! i’ll see you then… babe ;) jisung: *blushes*

A small noise that sounded suspiciously like an excited “Eeep!” came from Jisung’s apartment, and you grinned, giggling again. Jisung was, to put it mildly, absolutely adorable. Hot, yes—far too hot for you to properly function around, if you were totally honest—but also sweet and lovely. He was bright as the sun, seeming to practically radiate joyful light. And if last night was anything to go by, Jisung was quickly going to become a fixture in your life.

All that week, you couldn’t wait to see Jisung again and in a proper, arranged setting rather than as he was climbing through your window. You’d texted, flirting and just telling each other about yourselves. You learned that he loved being outside, just sitting in the sun or doing things with Chan and Changbin. He learned from you that you wanted to travel and study languages that were in danger of dying out. You bonded over a shared love of curling up with a good book or music or show, some tea, and having the world leave you alone. So, the idea of just watching a movie with him, spending time together in a simple but specific environment, sounded perfect to you.

Although, you did hook up twice more when neither of you could stand not getting your hands on each other again. Jisung was a kind and thorough lover, his personality vibrant and unaffected, and you enjoyed coming together simply for the sake of feeling amazing; you’d even taken to thinking of him as sunshine. You quickly found that you were sleeping better, and thought it might be nice if this sort of thing continued.

On Saturday evening, you found yourself impatiently waiting for 7:30 pm instead of doing small chores and reading some of the chapters you’d been assigned for your Poetry of Emancipation and Civil Rights course. It was maddening, especially when you heard Jisung get home and all you could think about was his smile. At 7:29 pm, you made your way into your bathroom and opened the little door in the wall. Jisung’s recent passage through the space within had cleared any cobwebs, but still there wasn’t much light. Whoever had split the old house into apartments had added this through-space for, presumably, plumbers to access the fixtures more easily, or maybe it was simply an anomaly in the construction. Either way, you now had a fascinating, new way to visit your neigh- your boyf- to visit Jisung.

Damn it, I can’t believe I’m doing this, you laughed at yourself and knelt to make your way into Jisung’s apartment. Before you could start, though, the door at the other end of the crawlspace opened and Jisung appeared.

“Hold on!” he said, and opened the door wider so that as much light as possible would shine through. Gratefully, you quickly made your way toward him—it really wasn’t a long space, only five steps crawling, but it was such an odd thing to do that you couldn’t help feel that it was much longer. When your head was out of the little passageway, you looked up to see a very strange look on Jisung’s face. It was the kind of expression one makes when something filthy is rocketing through one’s mind and it’s impolite to share those thoughts. Belatedly, you realized the position you were in and ducked your head.

When you’d fully emerged from the crawlspace, Jisung stood back and you clambered to your feet, brushing off your knees.

“Hey, babe,” Jisung said, winking.

“Hey!” You stood on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. “So, this is your bathroom.” Looking around, you noticed just how clean the room was—it wasn’t at all strange to appear there, with no odd smells, garish decor or anything out of place.

“Yep, this is my bathroom. Come see everything else—it’s much more interesting!” Jisung said, and hesitantly took your hand to lead you out into the rest of his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it had the same layout as yours, only mirrored.

When you got to the living room, you stared. Jisung had an electric keyboard, a guitar, a small desk, and a computer set up in one corner, clearly his space for practicing and composing. He’d gone for comfort more than anything else, with a sofa that had clearly been well-loved and a few beanbag-like nests. The light curtains would clearly let in plenty of sunlight during the day, and you noticed, with interest, the pile of blankets on one end of the sofa. The coffee table had gaming consoles and books scattered across its top, and a tall bookcase full of novels and music books, as well as sheet music, stood against the wall by the instruments.

The space was so different from your own, but it was the homiest living room you’d ever been in. You resisted the urge to flop down onto the sofa until you remembered that Jisung had been coming through your window . . . so you casually taking over his sofa would be a non-issue. He grinned when you sighed contentedly at the plushness of the cushions.

“You like it?” Jisung asked.

“Ji, I love it! The whole room’s so cozy and warm,” you said appreciatively, taking in every detail. Jisung just let you enjoy the room’s atmosphere, since he’d worked quite hard to make it so inviting and wanted you to appreciate it.

“Want some tea? I have, um, a lot,” Jisung grinned, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You nearly leapt off the couch and followed Jisung into the other room. “Oh my god, yes please!”

Jisung’s kitchen looked almost exactly the same as yours, except he didn’t have galaxy-themed tea towels. And, it was obvious to you that Jisung had his friends over more often than not, since two stools were stacked in the corner.

“Um,” Jisung prompted, “what kind would you like?” He pointed to a shelf with what had to be twenty boxes of different kinds of tea on it—to you, it looked like heaven. Seeing your awestruck look, Jisung added, “Take your time. I’ll just put the kettle on.”

After putting the water on to boil, Jisung came to stand behind you and, taking a deep breath as if to plunge into ice water, rested his chin on your shoulder. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his as if you’d been doing this together for years, rather than days. It was so easy to be with Jisung—everything just felt right. Thinking it was now or never, Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and you leaned into him, still deciding what kind of tea you’d like.

“Guess what . . .” Jisung said.

“Hmmm?” you said distractedly.

“You’re beautiful,” Jisung murmured, breathing shallowly because he still couldn’t believe you were just casually in his arms. How had he gotten this lucky?

“And you’re handsome,” you replied.

Jisung was most certainly smiling as he said, “Want to split a pot of jasmine?” You nodded and jumped as the kettle’s shrilling pierced your ears—you hadn’t realized you were standing there with Jisung, just looking at tea, for that long. Jisung kissed your cheek, making you squeal internally, and went to make the tea.

Five minutes later, the two of you were back in the living room and Jisung was setting up the movie. You sat with your feet up under you, holding your tea to your chest. The warmth felt lovely. Once Jisung had gotten his DVD player set up and the beginning credits of the movie had started, he came to sit next to you. As he leaned back with his tea in one hand, he yawned and theatrically put his other arm around your shoulders.

You giggled. “Jisung, you don’t need to feel nervous about us cuddling or anything,” you reassured him. “It’s not like I haven’t touched you. We’ve had sex, for god’s sake. Multiple times.”

“I just- I wanted to go slowly since simple, casual intimacy is different. Or, at least that’s how I think of it. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean we’re going to be absolutely compatible right off the bat.” Jisung’s touch on your shoulder was light, as if he didn’t want to startle you.

“Ji,” you said, snuggling into his side, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I feel more comfortable around you than some of the people I’ve known for three years.”

Jisung made a noise of disbelief. “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, and threw a leg over Jisung’s thigh. His breath hitched a little before he pulled you closer to himself, the two of you settling into a comfortable configuration of limbs. The movie was one you’d only heard of in passing, and hadn’t expected to like—but Jisung’s explanation of why he liked it made you actually enjoy it.

Two-thirds of the way through the film, Jisung’s hand gently caressing your shoulder became too much of a distraction and all you wanted to do was kiss him again. You’d long ago finished your tea, and now contented yourself with gazing at him, taking in the smooth line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the depression where his collarbone met the slope of his shoulder.

“I can feel you staring, Y/N,” Jisung said after a while, jolting you out of your daze. He paused the movie.

“Well, you’re kinda hot,” you countered.

“Yeah? How hot?” Jisung smirked, angling himself toward you.

“Very, very hot,” you whispered, craning your neck for a kiss. Jisung obliged, smiling.

Unlike your kisses the night before, this was slow and calm, like honey settling on ripe peaches. You slid forward to sit more squarely in Jisung’s lap as he tangled his fingers in your hair, the slight pull on your head feeling delicious. Each brush of his lips was soft and warm, and both of you took your time as you fell into the kisses, learning how gentle yet passionate the other could be. You moved your hands along his shoulders and chest, then up to cup his face, holding him like a priceless piece of art. Jisung hummed against your mouth, and drew you closer. Long minutes passed as you kissed, enjoying the simplicity of the connection, until you felt what seemed like a small fire ignite inside you.

Sensing your mood, as it reflected his own, Jisung said, “We’re not doing this on the couch again, Y/N. I have a bed, you know.”

You laughed—you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected things to go this way—after all, you’d worn some especially pretty lingerie—but the way Jisung had phrased it . . . he was almost pouting.

You pecked Jisung’s nose and said, “Lead on.”

Jisung didn’t bother asking you to get up or shift position—he just hooked an arm behind your knees and held the other at your back, and stood up. It was rather impressive, to say the least. He carried you to the bedroom, both of you giggling at the fact that you were really doing this, until you got to his room. Just like the rest of his apartment, it was cozy; there was no other word for it, especially with the soft faerie lights strung above the bed. You idly wondered if he always had them up or had just put them up in hopes the two of you would make it into his bedroom.

He sat down on the bed with you still in his arms, and resumed kissing you as if he hadn’t just carried you to an entirely different room. After a moment, you swiveled on Jisung’s lap so you were straddling his hips and wrapped your legs around him—his hands immediately went under your shirt, as if he’d been waiting to do just that.

“You really want to feel me up, don’t you,” you said, brows arched but smiling.

“Can you blame me?” Jisung’s voice was husky with desire. You just shook your head and pulled your shirt off, which made Jisung’s eyes widen. The lingerie was clearly doing its job. “Now who’s the hot one?” he asked, and ran his hands up and down your back as he continued kissing along your jaw and cheeks. His fingers finally stopped at the clasp of your bra and you breathed a “Yes.”

After a moment, Jisung leaned his head against your shoulder. “Y/N, um, it’s been a bit since I last did this…” His voice was so small and embarrassed.

“Aw babe, I’ve got it,” you said, stroking his hair. Jisung leaned back on his hands, watching you as you reached around yourself to unhook the clasp. You shrugged out of your bra and let it fall to the floor.

“You are so gorgeous, Y/N, you really are,” Jisung said, his voice low in awe.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks—you’d rarely, if ever, been admired like this, just bare before someone. “I- Um, I’m not sure what to say? Thanks?”

Jisung chuckled, saying, “You deserve every compliment I can give you,” and brought his hands back to your body. You were still as he trailed his fingertips up your stomach to cup the soft curves of your breasts, then brushed his thumbs over their peaks. You let out a shaky breath as Jisung began to kiss down your throat, over your sternum, and over each of the love bites he’d given you earlier in the week. He made certain to carefully add two more. You tangled your hands in his hair and sighed softly as he sucked, nibbled, and massaged, causing a tingling sensation to go straight to your core.

Jisung lifted his head briefly and, trailing a finger along his jaw, you said, “Your turn.” His shirt was off in one fluid movement and, again, you couldn’t believe you were actually with someone that beautiful.

“And you were saying I’m gorgeous? Jisung, oh babe, you should see yourself through my eyes.”

Jisung brushed his hair out of his face, looking intently up at you. “I can see myself in your eyes,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

You smiled as you gently pushed Jisung back onto the bed, but before you could lay yourself down on top of him, he said, “Let me take off my jeans off first—it’ll be easier, you know?”

You chuckled and decided to do the same—he was right, after all. You sat on the bed next to Jisung as he did some fascinating acrobatics to divest himself of his pants and pull the sheets down at the same time. Laying there in just his underwear, Jisung’s desire was painfully evident and you unknowingly licked your lips; however, this did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who grinned. He scooted back onto the bed so his legs weren't hanging off the side and lay back on his pillows, holding his arms out to you.

“Shall we?” he said with an exaggeratedly coy expression.

You crawled on top of him, feeling him hard beneath you, and leaned down to kiss him deeply, your breasts just grazing his chest. Your own desire roared through you like floodwaters surging along a river toward a dam, and you ground your core against him, seeking the one thing that would break that dam apart. Jisung moaned into your mouth, holding your hips so firmly his hands dug into your muscles. And in moments, you were both breathing hard.

Flashing a grin at Jisung as you broke from your kiss, you slid down his chest. You began at his throat, too, leaving kisses and hickeys all over him, eliciting soft moans from his lips. When you got to the waistband of his underpants, you looked up the hard planes of his stomach and chest to his face. “May I?”

“God, please, Y/N,” Jisung all but begged.

You deftly pulled his last remaining clothes down and off, admiring what was now revealed before you. Tracing the length and girth with your fingers, you placed a kiss right on the tip and Jisung hissed softly at the contact. You efficiently pumped your hand back and forth, feeling as if you were an earth goddess urging a seedling to grow, until he stood tall and proud as an oak. Slowly, you brought your lips to him, swirling your tongue a little, then bobbed your head up and down, occasionally letting your teeth graze his sensitive skin. A slightly salty taste that was still distinctly his own began to fill your mouth, and he twitched a little. And oh, Jisung’s moans—they were loud and needy, just a little breathy, and like music to your ears. He encouraged you, praising and saying how good it felt; at his words, you took a moment to simply run your hand over him, kissing the same path your hand took. Then, returning your mouth to its task, you quickened your pace and your throat soon felt raw. After a moment, you simply sucked the tip, flicking your tongue out, until Jisung’s gasps and cries were louder than ever.

“I’m so close, Y/N . . . Just like th- Aaaah! Fuck!” Jisung’s hips bucked, surprising you, but you continued, drawing as much pleasure from him as you could as you swallowed and swallowed. The sound of him coming undone made the ache between your legs intensify, and as Jisung came down from his high, panting, you crawled back up the bed next to him.

Jisung pulled you to him, and you knew he could taste himself on your mouth as you kissed again. His hands were quickly back on your hips, fiddling with the band of your panties. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses.

“Taste all you want,” you purred as his hand strayed lower.

He gave you a silly grin and, inexplicably, said, “Thank you.” You giggled.

Jisung wasted no time in flinging your panties nearly to the other side of the room, then tracing whirls over your stomach, going lower and lower. When you thought you might as well just take matters into your own hands, literally, Jisung slid his hand between your legs and you moaned.

“Mmmm, perfect,” Jisung smiled as he kissed just below your ear.

He seemed to want to feel each and every part of you, slowly exploring with first one finger, and then a second. In moments, you were wriggling and arching yourself toward him as his fingers danced. When he found that little bundle of nerves, rubbing it over and over, your hips bucked involuntarily. Fast, then slow, he coaxed you to the edge. Then, nothing.

“Oh no you don’t, Han Jisung,” you said, panting. “You are not stopping now.”

“Who said I was stopping?” Jisung said as he positioned himself between your legs, holding your thighs apart. You could still feel the blood pulsing through your veins and the ache inside was nearly maddening. He kissed all the way up your inner thigh, teasing you, then did the same along the other leg. You thrust your hips into the air, seeking some sort of friction.

Jisung smiled indulgently, then brought his mouth to you. His lips and tongue on your most sensitive parts felt so good you could barely think. Your moans were even louder than his had been, and you were glad that the neighbors typically went out on weekend nights. Jisung sucked that bundle of nerves like it was a hard candy and lapped at you like a kitten, clearly having the time of his life, before adding his fingers again. The combination had you begging for release, and all you could think was that this must be what it was like to be carried along a storm-swollen river to the edge of a waterfall.

“Oh, hhhhh, oh shit. Ji- Jisung, oh my god, hhhhh, oh god, fuck. Right there, oh f- Aaaah!”

Jisung crooked his fingers as he sucked, sending you hurtling out over that waterfall. Gasping and moaning, you shuddered, the coil of tension below your navel releasing. When he finally sat up, Jisung slowly licked each his fingers.

As you caught your breath, relishing the feeling of release, Jisung quickly went to his bedside table and you turned your head to see him sliding a condom on. He glanced at you, realizing he’d just assumed that you were okay with continuing.

“Jisung, just get back on the bed,” you said, forestalling his question, and Jisung did so, kneeling between your legs with an expectant look on his face.

“Well?” you said, looking up at him.

“I was just admiring you,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. Then, he straddled your hips and prepared himself before saying, “Ready?”

“Definitely,” you replied, an almost gleeful look in your eye.

You joined together little by little, Jisung letting you adjust, until he could go no further. You moaned at the feeling of such intimacy, the bright clarity of it—you felt like you were being filled with sunshine. “Ji, move,” you gasped, and he did.

Holding himself above you as you hooked your ankles behind his legs, Jisung began slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Then, the two of you moved as one, faster and harder, his hips finally snapping with as much power as he could muster.

Jisung buried his face in your neck as you urged him on. “Come on, Ji, right there. Oh, yes! Ah, that’s it. That feels so good, just like that.” You ran your hands all over his back, biting down on his shoulder as he finally hit the one spot inside that would surely bring your pleasure crashing down upon you again. Your nerves still singing from just moments before, you suddenly felt that coil inside you release as you clenched and unclenched, screaming Jisung’s name over and over.

“I still- I need—” Jisung gasped against your neck.

“Keep going,” you crooned, and held him to you as he chased his high, seeming to plunge deeper with each movement. A few moments later, Jisung’s hips shook and you felt him pulse as he dashed himself against the rocks at the foot of that waterfall of bliss. He shuddered, too, and lay against you, panting. You kissed his neck, his cheek, and his mouth as you both relaxed into each other’s arms.

After taking care of the condom, Jisung joined you back on the bed and you curled against him, still flushed with exertion. “That was—”

“Amazing,” you finished, turning to kiss him again. Jisung’s arm went around your shoulders and his other hand held your hip. You undulated your body against him gently, more for the slow, mellow comfort from the feel of his skin against yours than anything else.

“We should take a shower,” he said after a few more sweet kisses.

“Mmmm, that sounds perfect,” you agreed. “Can we just lay here for a moment, though?”

After several minutes, you suspected Jisung might fall asleep, so you gently kissed along his chest and said, “What about that shower?”

He chuckled and sat up with a groan. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go start the water.”

Once you’d showered together and lingered under the hot water, you lay side-by-side on Jisung’s bed, just tracing patterns into each other’s skin and occasionally kissing.

“I could get used to this, you know,” he said after you’d lain there for several minutes.

“Yeah? You mean us . . . just casually having sex? Or do you mean, like, dating?” you said, honestly not minding either way.

“I- Both, I guess?” Jisung paused. “But also just spending time with you, and being able to cuddle or do whatever when we need it. Casual comfort and companionship, and yeah, sex—keeping things open, you know?”

You looked up at him, thinking you understood now. “Do you mean having an open relationship?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, like we’re pretty much together but see other people but things are just kind of casual!”

You laughed lightly, glad that you were on the same page. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually,” you said. “I’m not really fussed about keeping things only between us—you know I’m polyamorous. I just feel like I’ve got a lot of love to give and that, while I am over the moon with happiness with you—”

“You are?” Jisung interrupted, turning his big doe eyes on you.

“Yes, Ji, of course,” you said, and continued. “But yeah, I just— I feel like I want to give as many people the affection and support they need, and to get all different kinds from them, as well as you. Just keeping things casual sounds perfect to me.”

Jisung rolled over onto his back, leaving you to rest your chin on his chest. He mindlessly stroked your hair. “Mmmm,” he sighed contentedly, “you know, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me who else you’re seeing, by the way. Not unless it gets serious and you’d like to actually date them, too. Then, it would be nice to know and meet them.”

“Oh my god, of course!” you exclaimed, your head jerking up sharply. “I wouldn’t hide something like that! I mean, if you’d like to share who we see super casually, I’m fine with that, too.”

“I trust you,” was all Jisung said.

“And I trust you,” you replied, kissing his chest above his heart. Suddenly, you were nearly practically overwhelmed by the tenderness you felt for Jisung, and shimmied your way onto his chest more solidly.

“Come here, angel,” he murmured, and pulled you fully on top of his body. Your bodies touching so completely made you feel like you were laying on a cloud. Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your head under Jisung’s chin, listening to his heartbeat as his arms went around you. You thought the best sleep you’d had was the other nights that week, but they could never compare to falling asleep with Jisung.

↠↞

Strolling toward you down the long walkway that wound through campus, looking like a cat who’d just been in the cream, came a young man with an all-too-familiar face: Bang Chan. He looked like the cold, December air didn’t bother him at all. You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and looked down at what were, in the summer, lovely gardens lining the path. It really was cold as hell and all you wanted to do was get home before dark when it would even colder.

“Y/N?”

Oh, no.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I thought it was you!” he called from, in your opinion, too far away. The people around you turned to look and you mentally cringed—you didn’t like drawing attention from large crowds.

“Hi, Chan,” you said, trying to plaster a smile onto your face.

“How’s the most beautiful woman on campus?” Chan said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Doing well? Staying warm?”

“I’m fine, Chan. And you?” You knew how you were talking was stilted and the words almost meaningless.

“A little busy, but great!” Chan responded blithely, falling into step with you. “How’s Jisung holding up? Is he still cooped up in his apartment? I think he said he was composing?”

“Oh, u-huh,” you said a little guiltily. You didn’t want to tell him that Jisung had, in fact, been in your apartment and in varying stages of undress, not composing at all hours. “I haven’t seen him much, actually, so I guess he has been composing. I think I heard him messing around on the guitar the other day.”

“Sometimes he gets like this,” Chan lamented, clearly playing for sympathy from you—sympathy he wouldn’t be getting because you, honestly, didn’t care much. Your time with Jisung was too good not to covet.

“I guess once he’s done whatever he’s working on you’ll see him more?” You wanted this conversation to be over—you were cold, there was a breeze, and it was Chan, of all people.

“I might just go over there and bug him, honestly.” Chan was thoughtful, and you had to stop yourself from vehemently dissuading him from stepping foot anywhere near your apartment. You’d have to mention to Jisung that Chan was probably stopping over and would expect to see some sort of headway on a composition, if that, indeed, was the excuse he’d been telling his friends to explain his occasional absences from their lives recently.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you, since you’re so close,” you reassured him, smiling uncomfortably. Chan still took no notice, happily looking around at all the other students passing by as you walked.

“He’s such an introvert, I’ve no idea if he’ll want to see me,” Chan laughed and stopped to let a group of freshman girls by, but didn’t resume walking once they’d passed. “But maybe I can come see you instead?” he said with a wink, and hope in his voice.

You began to stammer out a response, not even caring what you said as long as it amounted to “Hell no.” You pulled out your phone to, supposedly, check a message.

“Oh, sorry Chan. I have to go,” you lied. “A friend just texted saying she needs my help with something. I guess I’ll see you around.”

And with that, you made a speedy exit, Chan staring after you a little sadly. Why did his nerves have to get the best of him like that? He ended up coming off as mildly creepy instead of his normal, kind self. He’d have to work on that, since you clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Chan sighed, rubbing his brow, then headed toward the Performing Arts building and the privacy of the studio he shared with Jisung and Changbin. Maybe he’d be able to put what he felt into a song or something.

That night before bed, you messaged Jisung to tell him that Chan would probably be over that week.

y/n: ji, did you tell chan you were composing this week and that’s why you haven’t been with him and changbin? sunshine: ….maybe….why? y/n: well, chan found me today and asked me how your composition(s?) were going since i’m your neighbor. and i had to do some pretty fast talking there, han jisung >:| sunshine: shit…sorry y/n!! :(( sunshine: welp;;; i guess i’ll have to get going on that, then y/n: yaaaay good idea! also, why does chan insist on flirting so outrageously with me every single god damn time i see him? sunshine: oh. he’s been like that for awhile;; it’s a coping mechanism for when he’s nervous and he’s not always trying to actually flirt. although, with you he might be?? sunshine: please don’t hold it against him. he’s a good guy and i’d hate for you to dislike him y/n: oooooh okay okay that makes so much more sense now. i was getting kind of uncomfortable there for a minute. thank you for explaining that, babe. i understand him a lot better now and i promise i’ll try to get to actually know him!! sunshine: you’re not required to be friends with my friends, but thanks y/n: i know, but i still want to make the effort!! sunshine: you’re the best :D y/n: oh! um do you maybe need me to come over to be your ~muse~? sunshine: you already have been <3 y/n: if you don’t stop being adorable, i’m gonna come over there and kiss you sunshine: yeah? you’re gonna do that? hmmm? y/n: don’t test me…. i WILL come over and kiss you sweetly and tuck you into bed sunshine: i read that as “fuck you into bed.” OOOPS y/n: alkfhgakldjfgh y/n: just go compose, ji!!! i’ll come over tomorrow, if chan’s not there sunshine: your wish is my command, angel~ sunshine: make sure to get some sleep y/n: don’t stay up too late tho babe;;;; sunshine: i won’t, don’t worry y/n: okay hhhh goodnight, ji *kiss* sunshine: sweet dreams, angel *kiss*

As you fell asleep, you thought you could hear the faint strains of the guitar and Jisung’s voice floating over from the other apartment. Idly, you wondered if he was recording any of his ideas.

↠↞

On Wednesday afternoon, you got a text from Jisung inviting you to an ugly sweater party that would be hosted by one of his casual friends that weekend. And while you weren’t sure if any of your sweaters counted as ugly, you figured you should still have a fun night out. And because where Jisung was, Chan and Changbin wouldn’t be far behind, you knew they’d be there, too. You suggested that the two of you go together, especially since the house was only a couple blocks away from where you lived. So, at 8:17 pm on Friday, you bundled yourself into your coat and headed out the door.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Jisung striding toward you across the snowy lawn.

“Hi,” he said, drawing out the syllable as he gave you an enthusiastic hug and kissed your cheek.

“Jisung,” you said, stepping back, “where exactly is your coat? You do know it’s the middle of December, right?”

“I left it inside.” He grinned when you glared. “Eh, one of us has to be a little bit dumb sometimes.”

This earned him a gentle nudge in the shin from your foot, but you were both smiling as you set off toward the party.

As you approached the house, Jisung kissed your hand. “I, um, haven't told Chan and Changbin that we’ve been seeing each other.” At your surprised look, he shrugged. “I’ll see you later tonight, angel,” he said, then darted up the stairs with a wink thrown over his shoulder. You shook your head—sometimes, Jisung was a little odd.

When you stepped through the front door, it was obvious that the party had already been going for at least an hour. People crowded the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, and some were even on the stairs. Fairly mellow music played in the background, and when you looked toward one end of the living in which a table was set up between two speakers, you saw none other than Chan. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

Squirming between the people lounging against the kitchen’s doorframe, you finally made it in and went to where drinks had been laid out on the counter. You grabbed a fresh cup for yourself, pouring some hard cider out of a fresh can, and then, rejoined the main part of the party. Not exactly wanting to talk to a lot of people you didn’t know, you found a window with a deep enough sill that you could sit in it. For almost a half hour, you watched the partygoers and slowly sipped on your cider.

Occasionally, you’d look over at Chan behind his computer, portable mixing board, and more wires and cables than you knew could exist. Now that you knew he wasn’t actively trying to be unnecessarily flirtatious, you could see yourself getting to know him. After all, he was Jisung’s friend and well known around campus—people were too focused on holding others to high moral standards, despite lowering their own, not to watch someone like Chan like hawks. You would’ve heard if he wasn’t a great person, and you knew Jisung wouldn’t be friends with a jerk.

In the low lighting of the living room, the lines of Chan’s cheekbones stood out as he bowed his head in concentration to find just the right level of bass to thrum through your bones beneath the soft strains of melody. You found yourself completely enthralled; that is, until Jisung eclipsed your view as he flitted from group to group like a hummingbird. And just when you thought you should probably socialize, two women who wore matching, utterly horrible sweaters chose to stand nearby. Since their sweaters were so atrocious, you thought their conversation might be interesting.

“3racha?” one of them asked in response to a question you hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, I really thought they’d be here, but I haven’t seen them,” the second woman whined.

“Maybe they’re busy?” the first one suggested.

“Or, ladies,” a pleasantly husky voice said, coming up behind them, “you could open your eyes and realize that Chan’s behind the table tonight. You’re listening to one of our new songs.” The two 3racha fans gaped at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to talk to the person in the window here.” He slid past them. “Thanks.”

You looked up from your drink into the handsome face of Changbin, who was wearing a black sweater with…

“Pink, sparkly cats? You?” you said, not believing your eyes.

“Hey, I like cats,” Changbin protested. “And who cares if they’re pink and sparkly? They have cute little noses—see?” He moved closer to you, pointing to the cats.

“Yes, very cute little noses,” you laughed and took a sip of your cider. “So, what’s up, Changbin?”

“Eh, not much. I finished my exams early—thank god. You?”

“I’ve been really good, actually,” you said brightly. “You’re lucky—I still have all of mine next week.”

“Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great,” Changbin beamed at you. “Hey, it’s pretty stuffy in here—want to go out on the porch for some fresh air?”

You nodded and stood to follow him.

A couple heads turned, probably those people who recognized Changbin and thought of him as a local celebrity or something, as you slipped by along the wall leading to the back door. Changbin held the door open for you and you inhaled the cold night air, welcome after the heat inside from so many bodies pressed together.

Changbin sighed gratefully next to you, sitting down on the top step and patting the spot next to him. “Join me?”

You sat, surprised that you could feel the warmth radiating from Changbin even sitting a foot away. Together, you stared out over the lawn where the footprints of those who lived in the house crossed each other to form unintentionally intricate patterns.

“Y/N?” Changbin said hesitantly after a few minutes. “Would you be interested in listening to the demo of a song I’ve been working on?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I know you’re not a music major,” he continued, “but that’s exactly why I’m asking this. I could use some fresh ears on it.”

You were flattered that Changbin had asked you, but . . . “Why me?” you asked. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people you know far better than me. Not to sound rude, but we’ve only met maybe three times.”

“Like I said, that’s exactly it,” Changbin insisted, taking out his phone. “You don’t know my—3racha’s—music. So, you’re the perfect person to give an unbiased and new opinion!”

“Well, when you put it like that . . .” you mused, and scooted just a little closer to Changbin. You could have sworn he blushed.

After a moment of fiddling with his phone, he said, “Here. Sorry I don’t have headphones or a speaker or something with me.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to hear just fine.” You leaned forward as Changbin, grimacing at the first bars of the demo, held up his phone between you; then, you just concentrated on the music.

Meanwhile, Changbin felt like he was about to run and hide. You were mere inches from him, hair swinging down into your face as you listened intently. It was as if time had stopped completely, and you and he were the only people on Earth. He desperately tried not to stare as your mouth, lips parted slightly, quirked up in a smile at the lyrics. And if he noticed how your sweater hugged your body in just the right places, and how he’d like to be hugging those places, too, he promptly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. As you seemed more and more entranced by the music, his music, Changbin had the wild urge to lean forward and ki—

“Changbin, this is incredible!” you said as the song ended, your eyes gleaming in the light of the porch light as you turned to him. Suddenly, you realized just how close you were to Changbin—it would be so easy to just lean your head on his shoulder. You mentally shook yourself. “I had no idea you guys were producing music like this. And this is just a demo?”

Still reeling from being utterly stunned by your beauty, Changbin started. “I— Yeah, it’s just the demo. That last song that was playing inside was actually one of ours. Chan just slips them into whatever mix he’s DJ-ing at events.”

You beamed, impressed and excited. “So, I honestly can’t think of anything I’d want to change about that song, other than . . . maybe even out the lead up to the chorus? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Changbin reassured you, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, how about you come by the studio one day? I’d be able to make the edits with you there, and I think I might have another song you could help with.” At your surprised look, Changbin added, “But only if you want to. I don’t mean to pressure you, sorry.”

“I’d love to,” you said simply, and meant it. You looked down at your lap. “I don’t know much about composition, but I think it would fun to learn. Plus, if Jisung likes you and Chan, then you must be cool. And talented!”

Changbin gave you a searching look and you said quickly, “I mean, we’re neighbors and all, so we talk or see each other randomly and he always mentions you!”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’d like to live up to your expectations,” Changbin said self-consciously. He stood abruptly and you did as well, fiddling with your cider cup.

“Changbin?” you said before he could take another step toward the door, and he froze like you'd captured him in one of the ice sickles that hung from the roof. “How- how should I get in touch with you?” And just as you said it, you remembered the little slip of paper that was left on your coffee table that first time you’d met 3racha. Oh.

“I thought I gave you my number already,” Changbin chuckled, looking like one of the cats on his sweater that had just gotten into the cream.

You took a breath. “Right. Yeah, I remember now.”

“Just text me when you’re free and we can figure out when you want to come by to listen to more music.” Changbin stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving you a small smile.

“Oh, okay,” you agreed. “I guess I’ll text you tomorrow!”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Changbin said lightly, and winked before turning to open the door. “Come on, you look half frozen,” he said, his voice soft with not a trace of mockery in it.

You were cold and as you walked through the door back into the warmth, you tried to ignore the feeling of being pulled toward Changbin like you were two halves of a magnet. It was a new feeling, being drawn to someone so forcefully, and you were more than intrigued.

↠↞

When you got home from the party, you gratefully sagged onto your couch, glad to be away from all those people. After just sitting for long minutes, you got up and changed into your wonderfully soft and plush robe—it was one of the things you’d bought for yourself just because you could, just so you could have something nice. Then, you made tea and curled on the couch again; you’d only had the one drink that didn’t even have much alcohol in it, but you were still tired from being around that many people. So, you just sat and enjoyed your tea, letting your thoughts wonder.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice came down the hall into your living room, since he’d slipped through via the bathroom. He saw you curled on the couch in your robe with your mug of tea, and paused before entering the room. The simple domesticity of the tableau was so sweet that it stirred his desire to, someday, have a lovely home with the one he loved where things would be happy and calm. And right then and there, Jisung knew that he was definitely developing feelings for you. “Hey, you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you.

“Hey,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t stay too long—did you at least have an okay time tonight?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah, it’s always fun to see people in horrible sweaters,” you chucked. You proffered your tea to him. “Want some?”

Jisung took the mug and sipped delicately from it, sighing as the tea warmed his insides. “So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie like we said?”

“Mmmm,” you thought for a moment, cupping the back of Jisung’s neck and running your fingers through his hair. “How about we watch a couple episodes of that show I was telling you about, then take a bath together. I could really use the relaxing heat from the water.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect, angel,” Jisung sighed. “Can I grab your computer so we can watch, then?” He stood and looked around for the device. “Where’d you hide it this time?”

“Sorry,” you said, smiling ruefully. “It’s on the floor in my bedroom.”

Jisung retrieved your computer and set it on the coffee table in front of you, gently massaging your back as he waited for you to sign in and pull up the video streaming site. The only light in the room came from a small lamp you had in the corner, which cast a warm glow over everything. Jisung leaned into the nook where the couch’s back and arm met and you snuggled in beside and on him as he pulled you against his chest. He was warm and soft, and you felt entirely at ease—more at home with him than you’d felt with anyone else. As the second episode began, Jisung began lazily tracing circles up and down your arm, occasionally passing over your cheeks. Once or twice, he ran a finger along your lips, making them tingle. It was more than a little distracting and it wasn’t long before you felt a faint tingle of desire. Jisung’s body, which had been so relaxed before, was now filled with a low-level energy that made him feel like his blood was vibrating.

You twisted round to look up at him, a questioning look in your eyes, and he leaned forward to pause the show before capturing your lips with his. You smiled against his mouth and Jisung hoisted you further up onto his lap so you were almost sitting sideways. His tongue darted out to swipe along the crease of your mouth, and you gladly let him in, your tongues sliding by each other as you pressed yourself closer to Jisung. His hand on your waist began to travel upward as he kissed down your neck and along your shoulder, and you sighed at the warmth of his skin.

“You’re not wearing anything under that robe, are you?” Jisung said, pulling back and giving you a mischievous look.

“Nope!” you chirped innocently, and kissed his nose. Jisung’s eyes darkened as his pupils blew wide with desire.

“Oh, angel,” Jisung growled faintly as he ran his hand down your stomach to between your legs. As you continued to kiss, he chuckled faintly and pulled aside the folds of your robe to slide his hand up your inner thigh. His slow teasing soon had you moaning and wriggling, and it was obvious that he simply wanted to enjoy touching you, making you squirm just that little bit. But, he never brought you close to release—that wasn’t the point.

When you’d had enough of his teasing, you murmured, “Ji, let’s take the bath.” You had to concentrate to keep speaking as he moved his fingers in a particularly satisfying way. “The water will feel amazing and we’ll be relaxed,” you said, adjusting your position on his lap. Jisung groaned, and let you rise before following you out of the room.

While the tub filled higher and higher, you let your robe drop to the floor, and your body reacted to the cold air coming through the ever-open window. Jisung, his clothes already thrown in a heap in the corner, stared at you like you were Aphrodite herself. Ignoring the various thoughts swirling around in his head, Jisung stepped into the tub and was surprised at how hot it was, but sank down into the water nonetheless. “Come on, angel,” he said, patting his lap and making small waves in the water. “I’ve got a comfy seat here just for you.” He winked.

Grinning, you stepped in after him and the water splashed a little as you sat down, making both of you giggle. You talked about your week and how classes were going, always skirting around the topic of exams. It wasn’t long before you’d completely exhausted all college-related conversation; it simply wasn’t romantic. You lay back against Jisung, who slid lower into the water and put his hands on your hips. Your hands went automatically over his, and the two of you simply reveled in the warmth of the water and the feeling of being skin-to-skin.

Before long, the slight pressure against your low back became more insistent, until you turned to Jisung and said, “How about I keep you nice and warm, babe.”

“Sounds lovely.” Jisung murmured against your hair and carefully guided your hips down onto his waiting member. You groaned as he filled you up, the ache you hadn’t even known you’d felt all day suddenly satisfied.

“Oh god, yes,” you breathed and leaned your head back, exposing your neck for Jisung to kiss and nibble.

You gently wiggled your hips and settled, simply enjoying the sensation of being full. The hot water swirling around you felt like velvet caressing your skin. Turning slightly with your head still on his shoulder, you found Jisung’s mouth with yours and your kisses were as lazy and languid as the warm sunlight of a summer morning. You occasionally rocked your hips against Jisung’s gently, feeling him deep inside. And when you teased him like that, he would simply press himself further against you and you’d moan, kissing him harder.

Nothing was rushed or intense—just the feelings of warmth and being together, connected. You reveled in the pure sensations, relaxing into Jisung’s hold more every second. He had one hand on your hip, gently massaging the muscle there, and the other roving over your body, depending on his whims. Your fingers tangled in his hair, carding through it as you kissed. All of your attention was focused on Jisung—your point of connection with him, his hands on you, his soft mouth—and you filled his world, too, blotting out all else like a solar eclipse.

↠↞

“Bin, you said we’d meet Jisung here. Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be at home?” Chan said, clearly having to concentrate on enunciating his words more carefully than usual. He and Changbin were standing on the front step of Jisung’s apartment, waiting impatiently for their best friend to open the door. It was cold.

“Dunno.” Changbin gestured expansively. “He said we should come over, right? There aren’t many places he’d go.” Then, Changbin blanched. “You don’t think he was kidnapped or something, do you?”

“Oh come on, you’re drunk,” Chan scoffed.

“You are, too!” Changbin retorted.

“Yeah, but at least I’m not hyplerbizing. . . No, hyperblazing. Shit.” Chan looked blankly down at the snow for a second, his friend being absolutely no help at all as he frantically texted Jisung. “Got it! Hyperbolizing. Yeah, at least I’m not hyperbolizing.”

“I’m not,” Changbin insisted. “I’m just being sensible. Jisung barely ever ducks out on stuff, so why now? He was at the party, for god’s sake. We saw him— What, two hours ago?”

Chan leaned on the doorframe and sighed. “Well, I guess there’s only one option, then.”

“Yeah?”

“We go through the window.” Changbin gave him a blank look. “You know,” Chan continued, “Y/N’s bathroom window! Jisung said he’s gone through there to get to his apartment, and maybe she’ll know where he is. They’ve gotta at least keep in touch if they’re neighbors.”

Changbin spluttered. He couldn’t believe Chan had just suggested that they, for lack of a better phrase, break into your apartment. But then again, maybe you did know where Jisung was—it was worth a try.

So, Chan and Changbin made their way around to the other side of the house, trying not to look suspicious, and found the window that was cracked slightly open. Soft light poured from it, lancing across the bare ground below. And, there was the conveniently placed log, now fallen on its side. It didn’t look like Jisung had come through this way for awhile.

“Chan, are you sure about this?” Changbin whispered.

“Well, you wanna go hang out with Jisung, yeah?”

“Fine, yes,” Changbin grumbled.

Chan hopped up onto the log and pulled himself up to peek in the window. He was completely still for a moment, then put his feet back down and, with an indiscernible look on his face, motioned to Changbin.

“What? Is it locked or something?” Changbin asked, confused. Chan just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and motioned for Changbin to take his spot on the log.

“Boost me up?” he said to Chan, who gave him a wild look, but held out his hands for Changbin to step on anyway.

When Changbin’s head rose above the window, he stared. You were laying there in the tub, naked and lithe as a cat. But you weren’t alone. Jisung, his best friend Han Jisung, was in the tub with you. And you were kissing, Jisung’s hands all over you. As he beheld your form, Changbin felt like he was about to burst apart into a thousand pieces. Unable to tear his eyes away, Changbin saw you undulate your hips against Jisung’s and heard you sigh wantonly. You were completely engrossed in each other, unaware of your silent audience.

You let out a loud moan and Changbin’s hands, cramped from the cold and clutching the windowsill, betrayed him so he nearly lost his grip. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the house’s siding. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but his mind was full of smooth skin, water, and the sound of your sighs. Fuck. We shouldn’t be here.

But just at that moment, Chan chose to actually boost him up toward the window and, because Changbin was shocked at seeing you naked in a bathtub with Jisung, he toppled forward.

↠↞

The feeling of almost unraveling but never quite tipping over the edge was absolutely delicious, and yet having nothing between you and Jisung was even better. Your eyes were closed, focusing on the sensations, rather than trying to see anything, and you gasped against every so often. Jisung gently bit down on your shoulder whenever you did.

You were resting your full weight back against Jisung’s chest, simply enjoying the feel of him touching you everywhere possible. Then, you felt Jisung twitch inside you as you ground against him, and he began to thrust up into you with more regularity. A particularly loud moan escaped your lips, the ache deep inside pulsing, just as you heard a scuffling sound from outside.

“Ji? What was that?” you asked, your eyes flying open.

“It’s probably just some raccoons,” Jisung said offhandedly.

“Hmmm,” was all you replied and closed your eyes again. You held onto his knees for support as Jisung’s pace increased, making little waves dance in the tub.

And then . . .

It seemed like all hell broke loose as a body crashed through the slightly open window. You shrieked in surprise and Jisung yelled, “What the fuck?” All sense of arousal gone, you froze before peeking above the rim of the bathtub.

You had a distinct sense of deja vu as, yet again, you saw a young man sprawled on your bathroom floor.

Shit.

Shit!!

Belatedly, you realized that you were, indeed, naked, and you were in the bath. With Jisung. And you were still sitting on his dick, which now seemed to have a mind and agenda of its own. Oh, and it was freezing now that the window was fully open, making you feel like someone had pulled the skin on your chest taut as a bowstring.

“Seo Changbin, what the actual fuck?!!” Jisung almost, almost, bellowed as he firmly held you in place on his lap, not wanting his friend to notice anymore than he already had.

“I—” Changbin stammered, but was cut off as Jisung yelled again, seeing another face at the window.

“Chan, too? What the hell?! I just— What the hell?” As much as he might have seemed angry, you could feel Jisung laughing silently as he took in the situation.

“Fuck,” was all Chan said as his gaze took you in, and you pulled your legs up in front of yourself in some, futile, attempt to hide your nakedness.

“Well?” Jisung demanded.

“We were looking for you, bro,” Changbin said from the floor. “We had plans!”

“And you said you climb through Y/N’s window all the time!” Chan added . . . helpfully.

“I told you I had something going on tonight.” Jisung sighed and grumbled, “But I guess you didn’t remember that.” Then, rolling his eyes Jisung said, “How much did you two drink, anyway?”

“Hey, don’t be like that, man,” Chan said, still peering through the window. “It wasn’t that much!”

“Bullshit,” you said, speaking for the first time.

“Okay, whatever. You’re right,” Changbin grumbled from the floor, looking a little ill.

“Both of you: Get. Out.” Jisung’s voice was firm, but he still couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice.

“Can’t we go through the little door?” Chan said hopefully.

“Y/N?” Changbin implored you, eyes wide.

“Fine. Just go through the damn door so you can get out of my fucking bathroom!” Your voice rose and you crossed your arms over your chest.

Once Chan had climbed through the window, catching a sleeve on the windowsill in the process, and Changbin had retrieved Jisung’s keys from his pants, the two of them squeezed through the passageway to Jisung’s apartment. You tried your best not to giggle at how much they looked like those same raccoons Jisung had mentioned earlier, practically falling over each other as they rushed to get out of the bathroom.

“I’ll be over at some point,” Jisung called after them. “Good riddance,” he said more quietly to you.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you huffed out in a laugh.

“Yeah, I can’t either,” Jisung groaned. “But I’m not surprised. That’s those two in a nutshell, honestly.”

You leaned your head back against Jisung’s shoulder again and sighed. He was still inside you, and you were suddenly glad that you’d been facing forward when Chan and Changbin had appeared. Completely unable to resist Jisung’s soft skin, you nuzzled his jaw.

“Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag,” you shrugged.

“They’ll never let me live it down,” Jisung replied, burying his face in your neck.

“Nope, they won’t!” you giggled and pecked Jisung’s cheek.

#inkidz #ultkpop #stayhavennet #0325net #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #seo changbin #han jisung #3racha #.moonlight

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

Text

It's been forever since I did one of these.

PG-13 Ninjago Pilot Season Episode 3!!!!!!

We start off with Kai walking through Four Weapons on his own, back in his old clothes. There's no one around, but he hears the hammer banging in the blacksmith shop.

Kai jogs in, excitedly calling, "Nya!"

Turns out there's no Nya there. It's Samukai, who throws a pair of knives at Kai and he gets pinned to the wall as Samukai saunters toward him, a third knife in his hand. Kai tries kicking and breaking free, but screams to know where Nya is and what Samukai did to her.

Just as Samukai goes to stab Kai, he's slapped awake.

Yeah, another dream, but it was Jay who woke up Kai, because the new kid slept in and they need to go. Mission today to get the map, so they need to haul ass.

Kai gets up and dresses, still a little drowsy, and asks about breakfast.

No breakfast.

Now that he's waking up for realsies, he has ANOTHER question: how are they getting there?

Cole barks that they're taking the carriage and tells Kai and Jay to hurry the hell up.

Kai jumps up, excitedly asking if they're REALLY taking a carriage, like RIDING IN A CARRIAGE, and Jay gives a small smile and shrug.

And we cut to the ninja pulling a carriage as Wu meditates, Cole in the front with Jay, Zane, and Kai behind him, Kai remarking that when Jay said they were taking a carriage, this was not what he was thinking at all.

Jay chuckles and admits that it at least got him out of bed, right?

Kai groans and changes the topic:

Where and how did Wu find these three?

Cole bites that if it weren't for Wu, the four of them wouldn't be caught dead together. To completely answer Kai's question, though, Wu found Cole twice before Cole decided to go with him; he'd been testing himself physically and got offered the student plan to Wu's spinjitsu academy.

Jay backs Cole's story, even though there are parts he's not saying, which he should say now that they're a team. Cole barks that Jay should focus more on pulling the carriage instead of running his mouth.

Jay groans that he's just trying to help their new brother feel welcome and explains to Kai that he was testing an invention and Wu was there when he crashed.

Before Kai can ask Zane, Wu tells him(Zane) to run and scout ahead.

Zane obeys and parkours out of the carriage, racing ahead of them.

Jay gives it to Kai up-front: they don't know where Zane came from. One day, Wu just left and came back with him. They've tried asking Zane about it, but he's had a seizure every time, and it always leaves him in terrible shape afterwards.

Kai wonders if that's what has him acting so weird, but Wu shouts for them all to stop and hide the carriage.

Kai sighs, glad to not be running anymore, but Jay shushes him as they hide the carriage and hide behind some rocks next to Zane.

In front of them are the caves of despair, having been given the name because of all the randomly falling rocks the Scythe of Quakes causes. Samukai and his army are mining for the weapon, but Wu's old man memory kicks in as he sighs that they're in the wrong spot.

Even so, the team needs to be extremely careful. Not only is the landscape easily disturbed, there are skeletons EVERYWHERE, and a dragon.

Cole's eyes widen as he echoes, "Dragon?" But there's one more thing they need to be careful of:

Kai, who's already raced ahead.

Zane drops his head onto the rock, Cole facepalms and shakes his head, and Jay remarks that that’s one way to get to the map, as he’s just rushing in head first.

New plan: Keep Kai from getting them all killed, THEN get the map and the scythe.

The ninja agree and rush out, Wu staying behind to cause a distraction for the skeletons to make their mission easier.

With Kai, he, quite poorly, sneaks around the skeletons with the rest of the ninja following with much more stealth, even taking down a guard that spots Kai.

They catch up to Kai on the tower, and Zane smacks him over the head, and contemplates kicking him off before Jay stops him and gestures for him to get the map when Samukai has his back turned.

Zane does just that, tying a rope to one of his shurikens and using it to get the map.

He hands it to Cole, who examines the map and confirms what Sensei Wu was saying. The skeletons are digging in the wrong place because they were reading the map upside down, so the weapon is actually of the other side of the caves.

Kai states that he’s on it and begins leaving, but Cole snags the back of his gi and tells him to hold his horses, unless he wants to get caught and possibly killed.

Before Kai can protest, the ground shakes, rocking everyone and everything and making the ninja fall off the tower. The rest duck for any kind of cover because it starts raining boulders and no one brought a steel umbrella. Maybe we get a visual gag of Kruncha and Nuckal hiding under the conveyer belt that was being used to mine and Nuckal is gnawing on a doughnut shaped rock he found because he doesn’t want to be turned into bone power.

The quakes stop and we return to the ninja, Cole sighing as Zane and Jay hug each other, still trembling; Jay just got some anxiety triggered and Zane has never dealt with an earthquake before.

Kai isn’t reacting because he vanished, having raced to the other side of the caves.

Cole groans and tells the two scaredy cats to keep up, though Jay groans/cries out for what Kai’s problem is because he’s always in a rush to get himself in trouble.

Speaking of Kai, we cut to him as he tries to open the stone door to the golden weapon, only stopping when he gets a rock thrown at the back of his head.

He turns around and sees Zane with another rock at the ready.

He doesn’t get a chance to throw it because Cole reminds Kai to not run off because, unless he’s forgotten, they’re a team, and whether he likes it or not he’s a part of it, so no more running off and doing things on his own.

Kai groans that he’s got it and they all get the door open.

The cavern is alight in warm gold and the ground is hella cracked and broken down, all courtesy of the Scythe of Quakes, which rests grip/handle first in the mouth of what looks like a dragon statue, one that’s covered in dirt and sand.

The ninja are all amazed, and Jay almost shouts that what he’s seeing is very cool, almost because Cole covers his mouth and shushes him before he can be heard by anyone outside.

Kai goes to grab it, but Zane pulls him back and hands him a blanket to use to grab the scythe with; these things are sometimes too powerful for mortal hands, so best to be safe than sorry.

Kai wraps the blanket around the scythe and tries to pull it out of the dragon’s mouth, but find he can’t because it’s too heavy.

Zane gives it a try and can’t either.

Jay takes a swing, calling both of them paper handed(which means they’ve never lifted anything heavy like an engine or something like that) as he tries and eats his words. Too heavy.

With a groan, because the statue looks real as hell, Cole gives it a try.

And the scythe slides out easy as a knife through cake.

Some magic energy stuff swirls around Cole and causes the ground to shake one last time, just a gentle little quiver, and then finally stop.

Cole gets down and looks down at the weapon with wide eyes, Jay asking what all of that was Cole shakes his head, but doesn’t think on it, because they need to get back to Wu.

Speaking of Wu, he's fighting a hard as he can to defend himself against a bunch of skeletons, some fighting him as their own distraction, the rest leaving to get to the caves.

The ninja all wander through the caves and wonder where the exit is, at until Cole takes the lead and starts to show them the way outside. Jay asks if he used to study caves, but Cole denies it, admitting that caves always freaked him out as a kid.

He ends up leading them back to the room the weapon was stored in and notice the statue is gone.

Kai's equal parts annoyed at being led in a circle and confused at the statue vanished, offering that it crumbled into sand.

No time for theories because they come face to face with Samukai and the rest of the skeleton army.

ACTION TIME!!

The ninja all jump into action, fighting the skeletons while defending the weapon. Despite doing well, they still get beaten., even Kai, but he's new, so it's forgiven.

Jay, however, is thrown against the wall and slumps to the ground as skeletons surround him. His vision is blurry, but he also seems flashes of blue lightning. His body recharges and he stands lokking down at his feet as he does a circle with one foot and continues to spin with the momentum.

Cole sucker punches Kruncha away, which sends him FLYING, and races over to Jay to try helping him.

No need, because we and the other ninja are Jay is spinjitsu- ing and knocking away skeletons.

The ninja are surprised, Kai asking how Jay is doing that.

Jay calls back in his spinjitsu mode that he just saw lightning and spun with it.

With one more good turn, we transition into an anime-magical girl-esque transformation fully of fun visuals of lightning spiraling up Jay's body and then shooting outward as he plants his feet into the ground. His gi turns blue and the gold emblem turns to the lightning one we see him wear in the original, the storm cloud-looking skull with lightning in place of its teeth.

The skellies back off in fear while the ninja are very impressed and shocked.

Samukai gives no damns and orders his men to kill the ninja and take the scythe.

Zane walks ahead of the ninja and agilities his way to the skellies, spinning with the snowflakes he sees.

It also transitions into Zane's transformation, where he lands back first in snow and ice covered water. We follow him in the water as he falls upside down, though the camera turns until he's right way up. The dark water becomes lighter as snow or ice whirls around him starting from his ankles to his head. He keeps rising until he breaks through ice, revealing that his gi is now white and his emblem is the same as the show version, the ice sharp/snowflake looking wolf/dragon.

Zane spinjitsus the skeletons as well, even tag teaming with Jay, who smiles and laughs while Zane smiles with his eyes.

While he holds the Scythe of Quakes, Cole and Kai struggle with the skeletons. Jay and Zane are too busy beyblading to notice, but, out of options as Kai is almost knocked unconscious, Cole takes the scythe out of the blanket and slams it into the ground handle first.

The ground shakes and cracks even more. The skeletons are blasted back and Cole's transformation happens.

The earth aroind him rises over him ant then breaks.

... Same black gi, but at least he has his earth emblem now, the earth/stone-esque stone/mask. And he has orange eyes, which are a subtle hint to his true potential. While everyone's stunned, Kai spots Samukai and charges toward him, shouting his name.

Skeleton archers shoot at Kai, but he turns, once, twice, thrice, many times, flames growing around him as his own spinjitsu begins to work.

We dive into the flames and see Kai running, literally catching fire on his gi and causing it to burn, the black turning red. His emblem to the flaming lion.

The arrows meant to pepper him do nothing and Kai gets out of his sponjitsu out with sword drawn.

Samukai, always ready for a round 2, draws his knives.

The two clash, Kai doing much better than he did in Four Weapons, this time being on the offensive while Samukai is left simply blocking him as much as he can while Kai demends to kniw where Nya is and what was done to her.

The other ninja do much better as well, Cole alternating between his normal scythe and the golden scythe, Zane getting higher jumps and better agility, and Jay going much faster than he usually does, circling around a group of skeletons and then running at and through them once he's going fast enough, to incapacitate them all.

Samukai eventually kicks Kai away and gets gets on the offensive as well, the two semi-evenly matched.

Well, at least until he looks up and behind Kai and pushes him back, slowly backing away.

The other skeletoms do the same and Samukai retreats.

Kai begins to gollow him, but Jay stops him, telling him not to worry because they got the weapon and are one step closer to saving this Nya girl.

Kai supposes so, and the team takes a breather, Cole removing his hood to breathe better and re-wrappong the scythe in the blanket, mentally patting himself on the back for not losing anyine of getting them all killed.

That relief VANISHES when he hears breathing over his a a broken skull falls on his head.

He looks up and his face drops and pales, freezing in place.

The other ninja are too bust boasting to notice, but Zane is using his thinking cap for a second.

Wasn't there supposed to be a dragon guarding the weapon.

They hear a rumble behind them, and Kai turns, telling Cole to be more careful with the scythe.

Jay follows and gasps, Zane doing the mannequin challenge and freezing in a pose.

It was not the scythe that did that, and that statue that moved wasn't a statue.

They just pissed off one of the elemental dragons.

Cole scooches back before slowly rising to his feet, weapon in his hands.

The dragon watches and growls at him even more.

Kai asks what they do and Zane stays frozen, Jay has an even better idea, one of his best ever:

"RUN! RUN LIKE HELL!!!"

The team break for the door, but the dragon is faster and smashes its head against the ground, sending them all back as the ground shakes.

Rocks fall just as they see Wu coming racing toward them, the rocks blocking them off from each other.

The Earthe dragon snarls and circles the entrance, but Cole, using his new, super slick, earth powers, leads them to a tunnel they took earlier.

The dragon gladly follows.

The team sprints away as the dragon races after them, roaring and snarling after them.

Cole looks back and continues running, even shrieking at the fact he's being chased by a real living dragon.

Zane, Jay, and Kai are all panicked as well, Zane screaming, Jay babbling and making random noises, and Kai shouting.

We get a gag of Cole rounding a corner, still shrieking and hilding the golden scythe, followed by Zane, who we hear really use his voice for the first time as he screams/howls, Jay right behind him as he shouts, sorry if this is hard to read for everyone, "WHYISTHEREADRAGON!?SENSEINEVERSAIDANYTHNGABOUTADRAGONSOWHYISTHEREADRAGONINEVERSIGNEDUPFORTHISTHISISNOTOKAYWHATTHEHELLISGOINGONWHYISTHISHAPPENINGIAMNITOKAYWITHTHIS!!!!!!!!!" and Kai finishes the train as he screams and scrambles after them all, shouting for them to wait up.

The dragon rounds the corner as well, shaking the ground as it runs.

They eventually find their way to an exist and leave the caves, though the dragon still follows them out.

Kai, thinking quickly, takes the scythe from Cole and smashes it blade first into the ground, much to everyone's objections.

It shakes the ground and Kai enough to make the dragon retreat and avalanche of rocks to occur(a rock slide?). The ninja are still for a minute before screaming and leaving again, spinjitsu-ing away until they're back near the carriage.

They look back at the carnage and let themselves breathe for real, congratulating each other on a job well done.

That's when they see Wu scowling at them, and he asks what they were thinking.

Kai tries to salvage this operation and shows that they got the scythe.

Wu's glad for that, but they still USED the weapon and almost got themselves killed, expressing disappointment in both Kai and Cole for not thinking before acting.

Cole takes it, because you don't talk back to Sensei Wu, but Kai still defends himself in saying they were surrounded by skeletons and needed a way out, and they got the weapon, so he shouldn't be complaining.

Wu spells it out for them: if they just took the weapon and left, everything would've been fine, but since they used the weapon, they attracted the attention of the dragon, which has been known to attack on sight.

Wu drops ot and commends them for a job well done, upon seeing the weapon for himself, seeing they learned spinjitsu and seeing the map Zane nabbed, and tells the ninja they'll head back to the monastery after a little bit of rest.

The ninja agree, save for Kai, who's staring in disbelief and confusion as Wu pulls Cole aside, the earth ninja explaining what happened in the caves.

Jay walks up to Kai and pats him on the shoulder, advising that Kai really shouldn't talk back to Wu, because the guy could very easily kill him, if he really wanted.

Kai asks how a cool guy like Jay is here with a teacher's pet like Cole and... Zane, who's saying, 'fuck my safety and wellbeing,' and walking and climbing on the rocks that crashed down and almkst killed them all.

Jay shrugs and admits it's something you get used to, but it's worth the time.

Kai politely doibts it and just hopes he can save his sister.

Jay perks up at this, asking if she has a boyfriend, if she likes blue, all that jazz.

Kai grabs him by the collar and pulls him close, growling at him to back off.

Cole pulls Kai off of him, just on time, too, because Zane was sprinting over to dropkick Kai, and warns that they can't be tearing at each other, not when the other three weapons need to be found.

Kai concedes, but adds one more thing they all need to understand:

He'll stay, but only until those weapons and Nya are found. After that, he's gone.

Cole, already done with him, snarls, "Good."

Wu calls them all over and they huddle around the map as Wu informs them that the next weapons are the shurikens of ice, and they're close, but they need a boat and supplies, and need to return to the monastery.

The team agree, and ready themselves with the carriage, Cole and Kai glaring at each other before they leave.

The episode ends with the ninja running to returning to the monastery.

#ninjago #ninjago rewrite #ninjago zane #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago jay #ninjago wu #slight violence tw #some swearing #au #ua #anime transformations #there will be more in the future

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

Prove Them Wrong | Reggie Peters

A/N: I got these two requests for a Reggie fic and decided to merge them together, I hope you don’t mind!

Request 1: Please i just want a fanfic of reggie discovering YouTube and uploading home is where my horse is video and the gang reacting to it since people absolutely love it

Request 2: Hi!! Can you do one where the reader is julies friend and is with her when the boys come back and her and Reggie have a instant connection and he follows her around and is always talking to her

Relationships: Reggie x Reader, Sunset Curve x Reader, JATP x Reader

Warnings: Fluff?

Words: 4,165

Your life has been pretty ordinary for the past 16 years. A life pretty much every person would call boring was a life you wouldn’t change for the world’s most expensive things. Until you met Reggie and the other boys from Sunset Curve. You say boys, but it would be much more accurate if you said ghosts. Sunset Curve was a ghost band from the 90’s that popped into your life one night when you were helping your best friend Julie clean up her mother’s studio.

2 months earlier…

A text from Julie comes in when you’re doing your homework on your bed whilst watching reruns of Friends on your laptop. The show makes for good background noise, you find. “911!” Worry rises within you as you read the call-for-help text from your best friend. “U ok?” you text back. Three dots begin dancing on the screen, raising suspense. “Do u wanna come help me clean out mom’s studio? :( x” A soft smile plays at your lips whilst more dots appear. “Don’t think I can do it by myself.” You close the Netflix app on your laptop and get up to put some proper pants on. You had the habit to kick your jeans off the second you got home. Prancing around in your underwear after a tough day at school has become one of your favorite things to do, but Julie might not appreciate that too much, nor would the neighbors. “OMW!” you quickly text back and hop into your Vans before heading down to the Molina house. You find your best friend behind the grand piano, looking up at the chair-decorated ceiling of the shed. Something Julie’s mom did with a superstitious meaning you’d kind of forgotten. Neither you nor Julie believed it, to be fair. “Hey,” you greet softly, making her look at you. A smile appears on her lips, glad you’d be willing to come over and help. Like you’ve been so many times last year when her mother died. You’d be there to listen to her talk about all the memories with her mom, or to hug her as she cried because she missed her. This is just another part of the grieving process she needs to get through, and you’re there to hold her hand all the way through it. “Are you okay?” you ask, walking towards the piano and leaning your forearms on it. “Yeah, it’s just a little weird to be here…” she says as her eyes start scanning the entire space. “There are so many memories of her in here.” Her fingers glide across the piano keys. “Yeah, I know,” you whisper, not wanting to bring up anything that might hurt her. You remember the days you’d come over to play with Julie and you’d hear her mom singing in her studio. You remember when you’d make music together with Carrie and her dad and Julie’s mom. There are so many unfinished songs about bunnies and puppies from when you were kids, and even some more recent ones about the person you had a crush on or about that boy that broke your heart when you were fifteen. Those songs are now stored away in the back of your mind, waiting for the day Julie would start singing again. Along with all those memories you put on tape. “Let’s get crackin’!” you tap the top of the piano in a rhythmic beat before stepping away and holding out your hands for Julie to take. The girl gets up from the stool behind the piano and carefully places her hand in yours. You pull her away from the piano and halt in the middle of the garage, looking up to the loft that suddenly seems very looming. Both of you know whatever’s up there is the ghost of a musician’s past, and not even Julie’s mom’s. No, all the instruments up there are from the people that used to live here. Julie never told you, but you’re certain Carrie’s dad used to live here when he was a child and sold his parents’ house to Julie’s parents when they died. You’d noticed the way Trevor always stood in the doorway, glancing around with soft eyes and a tender smile tugging at his lips. Almost like he’s reminiscing about his past. Besides, he’s accidentally slipped up a few times when talking about his childhood, saying he used to play around here with some of his buddies. No one else ever mentioned it, so you didn’t either. There’s probably a good reason for him not to speak about his past in too much detail. You climb up the stairs first and step up on the wooden floor, letting your eyes scan over all the junk up here. Keyboards, old guitars, drumsticks, even an entire drum kit, along with bags and backpacks, all strewn around the place. “Y/N,” Julie’s voice makes you snap out of your thoughts. You look down to find Julie still on the stairs, half of her body in he loft. She’s holding a CD up to show you. “Sunset Curve?” you read aloud from the black CD case. “Never heard of that band.” “Let’s give it a listen?” she suggests and after receiving an agreeing nod from you, she climbs down again, followed by yourself. She places the CD into the stereo whilst you sit down on the couch. Julie presses play and joins you. “1-2-3 Take off, last stop Countdown till we blast open the top Face first, full charge--” The music fades away as it’s overpowered by a loud screeching noise. You look over at Julie, who has her hands up to her ear to cover them from the noise. Your eyebrows knit together, confused as to what’s happening. It might just be a fault in the production of the song? Or maybe a scratch on the CD? Before you can even come up with a decent reason, a bright flash lights up the entire garage, followed by a loud thud. And, when you look up, you find three boys in the middle of the studio, scrambling up from where they’d come down harshly. You and Julie quickly get up from the couch, wanting to take a closer look at the scene in front of you. “Woah! How did we get back here?” One of them says, confused about his surroundings. Julie lets out an ear-piercing scream before running out of the garage, leaving you with those three boys. You have no clue what’s happening, and you don’t know what to do either. Should you run and hide like Julie? Or should you just wait and see if they have a reason for being here? “Hello!” one of them yells excitedly, making you snap out of your train of thoughts. It’s the dark-haired boy with the red flannel tied around his waist that’s talking to you. “I’m sorry, who are you and what are you doing in our studio?” Your eyes widen at this. They think this is their studio? “I-I’m… I’m sorry, gimme a second,” you say, holding up your finger. The boy nods curtly before you dash out of there too, running up to Julie’s room with the question haunting your head ‘Who are they? And why do they think it’s their studio?’ After a while, you and Julie pluck up the courage to go back into the garage, armed with a cross since Julie’s positive they’re ghosts. Turns out they are. They -- along with Google -- explain they’re three ghosts that used to be in a band called Sunset Curve and that they died after eating bad hotdogs in ‘95. Luke, Reggie and Alex introduce themselves to you, and from that moment on, you’re certain these three ghost boys will change your life forever. And they do.

Present day

To say your life has changed since the day those boys came into your life is an understatement. It went from studying while watching Friends in your room to going out to their gigs almost every Saturday and sitting in on their rehearsals every day after school. You, along with Julie, have grown very close to the boys in the last five months. They’ve become your best friends you could talk to about everything and anything. But the most special connection you have, is with Reggie. Ever since that day, the boy hasn’t left you alone. Every time you’re at the Molina house, he’ll poof in, wherever you are. Whether you’re getting a drink or a snack in the kitchen, or you’d just come out of the bathroom, he’d be there. This caused a lot of heart attacks, but also a lot of deep conversations.

Especially if he came to your own house. This was mostly when he’d had a bad day or missed his old life or his parents. He’d poof into your room and just tell you to do whatever you were doing, that he just wanted to hang out. After a few times, you didn’t even ask anymore and he didn’t have to tell you to just continue whatever you were doing. Those nights even ended with the two of you cuddling, which is something you realized you could do for some unknown reason. But you liked it, so you didn’t think too much about it. Today is Friday, which means it’s the last big rehearsal before the boys and Julie have their gig tomorrow night. And though you’d much rather be there with them, you have to watch your little siblings for the night since your parents have gone out to a dinner party. You’re making some popcorn in the kitchen for all of you to munch on when watching a movie, when Reggie suddenly poofs in, making you jump. You hadn’t expected him to come in this early, which causes the worry to well up inside of you. Something must’ve happened. “Reg, you okay?” you ask in a hushed voice, glancing back at the kids in front of the tv. “No…” he murmurs, wringing his flannel in his hands. He looks sad, sadder than when he misses his old life, which means something really bad must’ve happened. “Gimme a second,” you say and turn to leave the kitchen. Reggie smiles a little as those words remind him of the first words you ever said to them. “Kids, it’s time for bed!” Moans and whines come from the little kids on the sofa, protesting their early bedtime. “No complaining! Chop chop!” you rushed them up the stairs before returning to the kitchen. “Get yourself comfy on the couch, I’m just gonna put them to bed real quick, okay?” Reggie nods agreeingly and watches you walk away again. He grabs the bowl of popcorn you’d prepared and takes it into the living room. Even though he can’t eat, he’d want you to snack on it since you’re the one that made it. “Sorry it took so long. They can be really stubborn sometimes,” you exhale frustratedly as you plop onto the couch next to Reggie. “Now, tell me, what’s going on?” “So, I suggested to Luke we’d try this song I wrote a while ago,” he starts solemnly. “Home is Where My Horse is?” you ask, remembering him writing that up in your room. You’d even helped him on some verses. “Yes, that one! But he just rejected it… Again!” he sighs exasperatedly, throwing his head back on the backrest of the couch. “Yelled at him that he didn’t appreciate my talent and just poofed out,” he chuckles airily, and you do too. “I’m sorry Luke isn’t more open to your creativity, Reg… I really wish I could help you somehow, if I knew something I--” you stop in your tracks as an idea pops into your head. “What is it, Y/N?” he asks, getting excited as it seems you have an idea. “What if we film you singing the song and upload it on YouTube?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at the idea alone. He nods excitedly at first, but then slows down when he realizes he has no clue what you’re talking about. “What’s a YouTube?” he asks. You let out a giggle before grabbing his hand and leading him towards the dining table where you’d left your laptop. You open it on the site and show him the home page filled with different types of recommended videos. “It’s a platform where people can post videos of whatever they like. A lot of artists use it for their music videos nowadays. It’s where I posted ‘Edge of Great’ a few weeks ago,” you explain.

He peers at the screen with wide, intrigued eyes. You then lean forward and type in ‘Queen don’t stop me now’ before hitting enter. Reggie’s eyes widen even more as you press play on the music video.

“I could film you with my dad’s equipment and edit the whole thing together and upload it. At least then the world will see how truly talented you are and maybe Luke might change his mind too?” He eagerly nods his head in agreement, getting excited about the whole idea. Besides him being able to prove to his band that his country songs are worth taking a second look at, it’s also a good opportunity for you to test out some new techniques.

So, on Saturday, the two of you get up at the crack of dawn -- or you do since ghosts don’t really sleep -- and make your way down to the riding club your little brother goes for riding classes. You’re acquainted with the owners, so they’ll let you film whatever you need around there. Doesn’t even matter if it looks like you’re not filming anything. “Okay, you ready?” you mutter as you set up the first scene. He’s currently sitting on a picnic bench with his guitar in his lap and the stables in the background. Your camera is set up in front of Reggie with the stable doors on each side of his head, perfectly balanced. You simply nod your head curtly as his ‘action’ sign. He immediately starts strumming his guitar and singing out his self-made words. “Home, what is it really? Sometimes it’s a someone and not a place, It’s that feeling of being safe, It’s about who you’re with at the end of the day…” You spent the entire day running around the ranch, letting Reggie sing his song multiple times in different locations. You even film a couple of nature shots to edit in later. This is just going to be the greatest music video you’ve ever made, and it’s all thanks to Reggie. Your Sunday is spent behind your laptop, editing Reggie’s footage until it’s turned into a somewhat coherent video. “Hey!” Reggie poofs into your room late that night. “Where’ve you been? You missed movie night!” he asks, worry laced in his voice. You don’t even take your eyes off your screen. It’s almost finished just a few more… Yes! “I just finished editing your video! Wanna see?” He nods his head excitedly, so you make some room for him on the chair you’re sitting on. He seems hesitant at first, but eventually sits down on the very edge. Your entire side that’s touching his tingles. It’s always been a weird feeling to touch him, but this is from an entirely new calibre. You rewind the video and press play. There’s a shot of the surrounding nature at first and some horses galloping in the distance whilst the strumming of his guitar floats out of the laptop. Then the camera pans to Reggie on the picnic bench with his guitar. “Home, what is it really? Sometimes it’s a someone and not a place, It’s that feeling of being safe, It’s about who you’re with at the end of the day… and for me” The picture changes to Reggie looking out into the meadows, watching the horses frolic around in the grass with a couple of shots of him playing his guitar as he’s walking along with the horses. “Home is where my horse is! Riding through trees by the river Feel the summer breeze smile gettin’ bigger Home is where my horse is Don’t need a house or a roof I just put on the saddle, lace up my boots Cuz home is where my horse is” In the next few shots, you’re even in it. Reggie had grabbed your camera and placed it on the grass before grabbing your hand and pulling you out into the meadow with him to dance. It probably looked most ridiculous to any bystanders, but the footage is too pretty not to use. You can just about see two silhouettes dancing around over the grass with a flare of sunlight breaking in and giving it a magical flair. “I don’t need the streets Don’t need the city lights I don’t need a fancy car I just hop on my horse and ride” You’d filmed a couple of the riders too, since Reggie himself couldn’t really ride a horse seeing he’s a ghost and everything. But it made for some good footage to set the scene of the song properly. “Home is where my horse is! Riding through trees by the river Feel the summer breeze smile gettin’ bigger Home is where my horse is I see the beautiful beast running up to me And I know I’m home” The song ends and the screen fades to black, Reggie vanishing as he looks out into the meadow again. You look up at real-life ghost Reggie with expectant eyes. He’s just staring at the black screen for a moment, mouth ajar and eyes wide. “Woah!” he finally mutters. “That was amazing, Y/N! Show me that again!” he exclaims excitedly. Of course you oblige and show him again. This time, he points out everything he loved. “This is my favorite part!” he says, pointing at the screen as the two of you are shown dancing. You can’t help but smile at how excited he gets over this collaboration. “So, can I upload it?” you ask when the screen fades again. “What?! Of course! Put it on the Tube-thing!” he claps his hands excitedly and watches as you open the site and start the upload on the Julie and The Phantoms channel. You had edited their Edge of Great video when Ray asked your father to help him film, so you pretty much had the right to do this, even if Julie might say otherwise. “There we go! It’s set to upload in about five minutes!” you say and turn to Reggie, almost forgetting how close he’s sitting until he’s literally mere inches away. You can actually feel his hot breath tickling your lips. A wave of warmth rushes through you when you catch his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again. “You’re really talented, you know that?” You simply hum in response to this compliment, not that you agree with him, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re completely frozen in place. His eyes are so pretty up close. They’re the most beautiful shade of green you have ever seen, especially with that twinkle in them. “Can I kiss you?” his soft voice makes you snap out of your thoughts about those dreamy eyes. “Wh--what?” you stutter, hoping you did hear that right, but not wanting to assume. “C-can I kiss you?” he repeats, his voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah.” Your voice wavers ever so slightly. Reggie’s eyes flutter close as he leans in to press his lips to yours. There’ve been times you dreamed about doing this, but you never thought you’d actually be able to kiss him. The ability to touch him was a surprise and a miracle, you didn’t think this would be possible too. A bleep coming from your computer causes you to pull away abruptly. You just about catch the smile on Reggie’s face before you turn to the screen, madly blushing yourself. “It’s ready to go!” you state excitedly and start typing up a description for the video. “What are you doing?” he asks, peering over your shoulder. “Typing up a little description for the fans, or whoever watches,” you reply as your fingers stilt for a second to think about what else to write. “Home is Where My Horse is, a Reggie original. Written and performed by your favorite bassist, Reggie Peters. Filmed and edited by Y/N Y/L/N. Special thanks to Hold Your Reins Ranch.” He reads the little text aloud. “Nice,” he nods his head, impressed by your abilities with this foreign platform. “And we’re live!” you inform him as you have pressed the post button. “Thanks, Y/N,” he says with a soft smile, making you look at him again. “I’m just gonna kiss you again, is that okay?” You nod your head before closing the distance between the two of you and kissing him again. This is not what you’d expected to come from this project, but you’re glad it had. This feels right. That night, you send Julie a message with the link to the video. “Give the boy a chance. This is an actual bop!” you sent along with it. You’re a little scared you might’ve overstepped and shouldn’t have suggested making this video for Reggie and you definitely shouldn’t have posted it to the Julie and The Phantoms YouTube channel. It probably wasn’t your place to mingle into a band conflict, but you couldn’t handle seeing Reggie so upset.

“Get ur talented ass to the studio. NOW,” Julie’s text reads. It sounds a little passive-aggressive, but you still obey and hop into some pants and shoes before heading down the other end of the street where the Molina house stands. “‘Sup, kids?” you say when you find the boys and Julie on the couch, throwing up a peace sign. The bubbliness might camouflage the nerves building up inside you. “Care to explain yourself, miss Y/L/N?” Julie starts with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. You glance over at Reggie. He’s glancing down at the rings around his fingers. “I’m sorry, Jules. But I really think you ought to give this boy and his horse a chance!” you aggressively point at the boy in question, whose head snaps up at this. Now he’s looking at you with a scared, yet tendered expression on his face. “I was joking, babes,” Julie mutters, holding her hands up in defense. “We didn’t think you’d react this defensive over this…” Your eyebrows knit together as confusion takes over you. “Wh-what do you mean?” you question. “Your video has been viewed over a thousand times already and it’s only been up for about two hours, Y/N,” Julie explains and turns her laptop for you to see the view count at 1,327. Your breath hitches in your throat at the large number. That’s how many people have seen your work? I mean, you would’ve watched it that many times in a row yourself because that song is actually amazing. These people are stupid for not giving it a chance earlier. “Woah, Reg! That’s a lot of people hearing your song!” you exclaim excitedly. The boy gets up from the couch and walks over to you with a proud smile on his face. “Actually….” he starts and scrolls down on the laptop. You taught him how to do that. “They’re loving your camerawork and editing!” He shows you all the comments underneath the video. The reactions are divided evenly between praise for the song and praise for your work. “Wha--” your eyes dart from Reggie to Alex, then to Luke and Julie. “We had a band meeting and we want you to become our band’s official videographer,” Alex announces with that soft smile of his plastered on his lips. Your mouth drops in disbelief. You’ve always loved videography and editing, but you always saw it as something fun, not as an official band thing. After months of sitting in rehearsals and watching gigs, you’re finally going to be part of the band. Or close enough to being a part of the band. “What do you say, babe?” Reggie asks when you’ve been quiet for a good minute. Luke and Alex exchange glances at the sudden use of pet names. That’s new. “I mean, it could be cool?” you shrug humbly. The band cheers, Alex and Luke even high five. Before you can even go over to hug Julie, Reggie’s already cupped your face and crashes his lips to yours. You’ll never get used to that feeling. “That’s new,” you hear Alex say when the two of you pull away. You need a good second to cool it after that passionate kiss, but once you do, you beckon the others over for a group hug. “Thank you, guys,” you whisper and press a kiss to Julie’s hair as a thank you. From that day on, you’re not only known as the Julie and The Phantoms videographer, but also as the cute bassist’s girlfriend. To say your life has drastically changed since meeting these boys would be the understatement of the year.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #reggie jatp #jeremy shada #alex jatp #owen joyner #luke patterson #charlie gillespie #julie molina #madison reyes #reggie jatp x reader #reggie jatp fic #jatp fic #reggie peters

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starksvixen · 3 years

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Part 3 - Never Lose Me

Masterlist

Summary: You and Mando have begun to grow closer as your time with the Child drew out. No longer were you “just partners”. Something had begun to spring within you, a feeling dead for so long erupting within your heart. Or was it just you?

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst, and more angst. Sprinkles of fluff. Possible unrequited feelings.

A/N - Sorry for the late update! It’s been a hectic few weeks for me, but I promise to try and upload more.

Let’s get one thing straight, you were never one for adventure. All your life, adventure meant trouble for you and it had definitely left it’s scars. So when you joined Mando, you were bracing for more craziness, more marks upon your skin. It was nothing but a means to an end, a debt you needed to pay off. However, through your years together, that swiftly changed.

You began to crave adventure.

With your new addition of the Child to your crew, you weren’t lacking, that’s for sure. But it sent these horses through your veins, adrenaline left in their trail, and it was your addiction. Running from bounty hunters, keeping the kid safe, all of it. However, after you latest encounter with weird alien birds on the sands of Navarro, it all began to connect.

He had taught you to love it, showed you how to enjoy it. You loved adventure because you weren’t alone, you had a partner. It was all thanks to him. It was him.

Your ice encrusted heart had been melted by the Mandalorian.

When he lunged in front of those nasty looking birds to save your life, it was as if your heart leapt to meet your brain. He had risked his life for you. And you knew that the beat in your heart that spelled your love in Morse code would be dangerous. So you quickly shut yourself up, shut him out. You couldn’t be the reason he got hurt, he couldn’t get hurt on behalf of your one-sided puppy love. He was just keeping you alive to pay off your dues.

Right?

Tuning back into the scene in front of you, the tight cuffs around your wrists, you repeated the plan in your head over and over again like a prayer. You were on your way to a deal that was supposed to be about the Kid, but in reality it was an ambush, with you and Mando in the lead.

“Dar’manda, wanna explain the silence?” Mando says as quiet as he can so that it can be translated with static.

“It’s nothing, Mando...” you mumble in return, keeping your eyes averted.

“Cya-”

“Don’t.”

“(Y/N), what did I do?” it comes like a mumble from beneath his mask, too quiet to be picked up by machine.

‘I fell in love with you.’ you think.

“Nothing, just focus on the mission.”

With a harsh sigh, you set your jaw tight and aim your view ahead as you walk the barren streets of Navarro. Soon enough, both you and Mando are sitting down, facing the disgusting Imp in front of you that was obviously undressing you with his eyes.

Little did you know that beneath the helmet, Mando’s jaw clenched.

With swift yet quiet movements, Greef (who was still petrified of you) had unlocked you from your restraints. As the Imp continues on and on about his annoying propaganda, a leather hand slipped into yours. Your forced to suppress a gasp as he gently squeezes your hand, a silent sign of trust between you two. You cannot feed into the comfortable feeling, right now...

All you see is red.

Literally. Before you and Mando had a chance to take down your Imperial crowd, a rain of blasters bursts through the windows. All four of you, including Greef and Cara, barely made it down in time to dodge them. Somehow, the two of you made it towards the other edge of the window, a semi clear view of the pack of Stormtroopers surrounding you.

Grabbing your blaster and blade from Mando’s back, you load them both, getting ready for the fight ahead of you. You go quiet as you hear a ship land. Your blood runs cold at the sound of his voice.

Moff Gideon.

The Seige of Mandalore flashes before your eyes, making your eyes flood with uncontrollable tears. The start of it all. You smack Mando’s hand away as he obviously saw your weakness. With a quiet sniffle, you cock your gun, listening to the twisted words Gideon spewed.

But once he stopped, the rushed footsteps and clanking of metal grew your suspicion.

“They’re setting up an EWEB, aren’t they?” you say to Cara.

She only nods in response.

“It’s over.” Karga says from his corner.

“Yeah, cause that’s really helpful right now!” you spit.

“I found the sewer vent.” Mando says.

He gently tugs you over to him by your arm, keeping you under cover as you, Cara, and him try to open the vent. You tried your hot blade, nothing. Mando was out of charges. Not even Cara’s blaster worked.

Of course, Moff Gideon decided to add more stress to the situation with another speech. But when he started listing off the names of your crew, you knew you were screwed.

“Maybe the traitorous Mandalorian, (Y/N) (L/N), the woman who never had a chance to take the Creed but still broke it, can regail her many tales of murder using the same weapon that killed her people. She seems like a great ally compared to the weak Dar’manda you knew, hmm?”

All eyes turn to you, your hood still covering your face but at this point you knew it was of no use. Slowly, you take off your hood, revealing the scar starting from the edge of your right eye, leaving a long scar that trailed through a place where there was once hair.

“Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore, when gunships of similar ordinance laid waste to fields of Mandalorian recruits in The Night of A Thousand Tears.”

Din Djarin.

You look to Din with wide eyes, wondering if the boy that you had hidden in the bunker with all those years ago was still in that metal mask. The one you trained with, laughed with. Your Din...

And now you were going to die together. How poetic.

The world seemed to spin, everything around you turned to static. As Din retells the tail of how he was rescued, how you two met, your body shivers from the memories buried so deep inside you. Your grip tightens on your blaster, pain, frustration, betrayal.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Tell me that you recognized me?” you mumble.

“I had to protect you, from everything that I’ve done,” he says as he crouches in front of you.

“I don’t need your protection...” you swiftly stand up, keeping your space. “I need your trust...”

“Alright! Can you save the lovers quarrel for when, oh, I don’t know, we survive this!” Cara says quickly.

You nod, bending down to grab one of the sniper rifles the Stormtrooper had and reloading it fast. Everything around you goes quiet, blocking out your teammates, only focused on the threat at hand.

Well, until you saw your little green fuzzball in view, strapped to a droid unit’s chest.

“Cover me!” you yell to Cara, quickly making your way outside and helping the droid keep the baby safe.

More gunshots joined you and as you turn you see the Mandalorian covering your six. You only nod as a sign of gratitude. As you get back to the fight, and Karga decides to join you, a hard grunt from behind you quickly makes you turn around. One of the stormtroopers had flipped Din to the ground, ready to fire.

Without a second thought, you throw your gun away for a moment and pull your knife out, the exposure to the air sending the cool grey into a heated red. With one arm, you pull the trooper against your chest and with the other, you slowly drag the hot blade against his throat. A slow and painful death. Once his body was on the ground, you picked up your rifle again and continued to shoot at the rest.

Moff Gideon soon stepped in front of you, his eyes targeted towards your head, most likely imagining your death. You drop your gun, and feign surrender, only to grab your smaller blaster and take a quick shot. Unfortunately you missed, and so did he. But he was still standing, giving him the chance to shoot at a fuel canister, one right in front of Mando.

“Din!” you screamed, as you watched his metal body flail to the ground.

Cara and Greef dragged him inside as you slowly but surely made it back towards the building. Once inside, you quickly helped Cara lay him down, rolling him onto his side to check for wounds.

Your worst fear had happened. The unrequited feelings you had to deal with had injured the one you love most. For the first time in what had felt like forever, you were panicked.

It was obvious he had sustained a pretty nasty head wound. So, naturally, you refused to leave his side while the others tried to escape. Without the others noticing, you moved the fabric of his shirt up above his wrist to keep two fingers on his pulse. With every beat, you were reminded that he was still there.

You kept an eye on your surroundings, with each passing minute your dread filling you up to the brim.

“Cyar’ika,” you hear a pained voice from beside you.

Turning your head, your met with the familiar visor you had grown to love. He was speaking, that was good.

“I’m not going to make it. You need to go,”

Now you wish he hadn’t.

“Are you insane? You just smacked yourself, you’ll be fine.” you say with a soft chuckle, moving your hand away from his exposed wrist.

“Leave me,”

His breathing picked up, he was in pain. Knowing that this was all your fault, that Din laid before you thinking he was going to die, it killed you. Tears sprung into your eyes without notice.

“No, I’m not leaving you again.”

Gently, you caress where his helmet meets his neck, only to feel the sticky, metallic substance you knew to be blood. Tears fell from your eyes like rain now.

“Din...” you whisper tearfully.

“Don’t you dare think about taking this helmet off. You leave me.” he reaches shakily into his shirt, pulling out the mythosaur skull charm and placing it in your hands. “Take this and you make sure the child is safe.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not leaving you,”

Before he could speak again, you waved Cara over, placing the necklace in her palm.

“You need to take the Child and get him to the Mandalorian covert. When you find them, you tell them it’s from Din Djarin. Got it?”

With a nod, she takes it, and the Child, preparing for their escape.

“Cyare, please...”

You gave him silence to his pleas, opting to hold his hand tightly instead as you watched the scene outside. You saw the fire gun, and you quickly shielded him with your own body, taking most of the burns instead of him.

With your back singed, you let out the tiniest whimper as you sit back up straight.

“(Y/N)-” Cara starts.

“I can hold him off long enough to let you guys get out of here. I’ll follow behind with Din,”

“And if you don’t make it?”

“We’ll die a warriors death,”

Another blast of fire erupts from the cannon it is held in. You launch yourself over Din once more, bracing for the pain that never comes. Looking over your shoulder, you see the Child, holding back the flames from harming you. With a pained but proud smile, you inch your way over to him before he collapses and give him a hug.

“Good job, kid,” you whisper.

One final bang alerts you to the newly made escape route. With a soft kiss to his fuzzy head, you whisper once more:

“You be good, okay? I love you, kiddo.”

The IG unit takes him from you quickly, placing it in Cara’s arms. You crawl back towards Din, gently taking his hand again to try and distract yourself from the pain. Despite the overwhelming sensation of singed flesh, you could feel blood trickling down your back, making you shiver. But you refused to be weak. You refused to let Din die.

Looking around once more, you see only the IG unit left. He’s a droid...

“Hey, droid!”

He turns his head to you.

“Got any bacta spray?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,”

“Good.”

Pulling out your blade, you cut off a long strip of Din’s cape, wrapping it tightly around your eyes.

“What are you doing?” Din weakly asks.

“I’m taking off your helmet, and the droid will heal you. He’s not living,” you tie the last knot even tighter. “And I can’t see you.”

A weak chuckle reverberates from him.

“You’re still as crazy as the day I met you,”

“Well, love makes you do crazy things,”

Gently, you guide your hands up his chest and to his helmet. You expect his hands to come flying towards your wrists, to stop you. But surprisingly, he doesn’t do so. With a click and a hiss, his helmet comes sliding off, and you lay it in your lap for safe keeping.

“There is damage to your central processing unit.” the driod says as he does his work.

“You mean my brain?”

“That was meant to be a joke.”

Din’s soft chuckle puts your mind at ease as you stared into the black space. Once you hear the spray no longer being applied, you blindly reached out and helped Din sit up. Before you get a chance to reach down and put his helmet on again, something unexpected happens.

His lips were on yours.

Despite being caged in a helmet all the time, they were soft against yours. The metallic taste of blood danced along your tongue but it was no match to the adrenaline running through your veins at the sensation at your love’s lips against yours. You played an intricate and slow dance, one that you wished you could never get enough of. With a shaking hand, you reached into the uninjured side of his head, running it through the matted curls. The feeling of it all made you smile, the kiss ending way too soon.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

With a smile you couldn’t control, you ever so gently place the helmet back onto his head. Taking the blindfold off, you stared into his visor. Brown, you knew that had to be the color of his hair.

His hand snakes it’s way behind your head, pushing it towards his metal clad one in a Keldabe kiss. With a tearful smile, your hand moves over the metal with ease, mimicking the same gesture.

“You can only say that if you promise I’ll never lose you again,” you mumble.

“You’ll never lose me, cyar’ika,”

Tag List: (leave a comment on the Masterlist to be added)

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#mandalorian #the mandalorian #mandalorianxreader #mandalorianimagine #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mando imagine #din #djarin #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djaren fanfiction #the mandolorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mandolorian x reader #partners in crime

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definitelyseven · 3 years

Text

liability | sixteen (m)

summary: reporter meets mafia boss, Park Jinyoung

Thirty past noon. He was thirty minutes late. You should’ve known better than to meet up with him, but Jinyoung didn’t give you a choice.

“Miss, would you like to order something to eat?” the waitress asked for the third time.

“I’m sorry. I’m waiting for someone,” you answered giving her a small smile.

“I’m surprised Y/N. I didn’t think you’d actually meet me. I didn’t think he would allow you to,” Jaehyun teased as he sat down across from you. “Coffee, please.”

“You’re late,” you tell him.

“I’m a very busy man,” he smirked. “And I have something you want. The least you can do is wait for me.”

“I know you won’t give me what I want that easily. So what do you want for it?” you asked, getting straight to the point.

“It’s not what I want. It’s what she wants,” he points behind you. You quickly turned around to see her - Hyewon.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“Hi Y/N,” she said with a smile before leaning down to kiss Jaehyun’s cheek.

“You’re together?” you questioned. “No way...”

“What? Surprised that I found someone better than Jinyoung?” she smirked before sitting down next to him.

“Don’t waste my time. What do you want?” you repeated.

“I told you. It’s not what I want. It’s what she wants,” Jaehyun chuckles, glancing over at Hyewon.

“One day,” she said. “All I want is your time.”

“For what?” you asked, suspicious.

“I’ve always lived in your shadow. It’s about time you lived in mine don’t you think?” she smirked, crossing her arms across her chest.

So you agreed, thinking how bad could it be? She used you like a horse. You followed her around all day, carrying her bags, fetching her whatever she needed. Five hours in to the day, she had you trying every single piece of clothing in the store for her as she sat on her ass, judging every outfit you put on.

“That dress makes you look like a hippo. Why does everything look bad on you?” she judged while sipping her champagne.

“What’s the next outfit?” you asked, ignoring her brutal comments. You wished you dressed more comfortably, but Jinyoung’s mother upgraded every piece of clothing you had, telling you it didn’t fit Jinyoung’s style.

“That one,” she pointed a piece of lingerie. “Give us a little show, won’t you?”

“What? No I’m not trying that on,” you rejected.

“I guess you don’t want to know as badly as I thought you did,” Hyewon said setting down the glass of champagne. “Put it on and give us a show and I’ll call it a day.” You hesitated but agreed. It couldn’t be that bad, right? It was like a bikini. You walked out of the changing room with your arms wrapped around your body, trying to cover every part that was exposed. “That’s not a show. Do you want the information or not? Stop making me wait!” she yelled at you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, rubbing your arms up and down.

“I fucking told you why! Give us a show or I’m leaving and you’ll never know.”

You swallowed your pride and let your arms down. You walked around the store in lingerie. People in the store were staring and pointing at you. There was nothing you can do, but take it.

“Wow it’s cold in here,” Jaehyun said as he walked into the store. He removes his blazer and places it over your shoulders, covering you up.

“Jae!” Hyewon said standing up almost instantly. “We were just -”

“I’ll take it from here. You can go home,” he tells her. She glares at you and bitterly walks away. “Sit,” he tells you. You tugged his blazer closer to your body as you sat down next to him.

“You’re not the bad guy you make yourself out to be,” you said, making him chuckle.

“You’re telling that to the guy that had you kidnap?” he joked.

You laughed, “I’ve been acting like a clown all day. Are you finally going to tell me what I want to know?”

“Don’t you think it’s weird you know nothing about the man you’re marrying?” he asked.

“You’re right. I know nothing about him,” you agreed. “But you know why I’m marrying him.”

“We’ve been civil this whole conversation.”

“True, but can you guarantee that tomorrow?” you sighed, hugging his blazer tight against your chest. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“If he wants to keep it a secret from you, don’t you think it’s best to leave it alone?” Jaehyun asked. You were surprised by his soft side.

“No matter how many times I begged, he won’t tell me why he left me. This is the one thing that’s standing in between our marriage. I can’t marry him not knowing,” you explained.

“Then why should I tell you? Why would I help him?” he pointed out.

“Because you’re not the bad guy you make yourself out to be,” you repeated. “You don’t want to hurt me.”

“Not you. Him. I want to hurt him,” he reminded as he looked at you. He reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hear someone call from behind. It was a voice the both of you were familiar with; Jinyoung.

“You called him?” you asked Jaehyun. He smirks, nodding.

You quickly stood up, making sure to cover yourself completely. “Jinyoung...” you called his name.

“Let’s go,” Jinyoung interrupted while grabbing you by your arm.

“Wait. I have to change,” you stopped him. You quickly got changed and left the store with Jinyoung who was walking way too fast for you. You knew he was upset with you. “Jinyoung,” you called his name, stopping in your steps. He turns around to face you. “My feet hurt,” you complained.

Jinyoung walks back to you and grabs your hand, gesturing you to sit down on a bench. He runs back into the store you were both just in and comes back with a pair of comfortable shoes. "Better?” Jinyoung asked as he finished tying your shoelaces. You nodded. “Let’s go,” he said again, but this time he holds your hand. The whole ride home was silent. He didn’t talk you or look at you, but his hand never left yours. He held it tight as if he was afraid to lose you.

“Mrs. Park,” you greeted as soon as you walked into the door. She looks at you up and down.

“What are you wearing?” she said in disbelief. You let out a small sigh, tired of being judge all day. “Those sneakers with your outfit. How could you walk out like that?” she continued to ask.

“Mother, let it go.”

“I may not be able to have a say about your wedding, but I am still your mother, her mother-in-law. I will not let her walk around looking shabby like that. It’s embarrassing,” she tells you both.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Park. It won’t happen again,” you assured her before heading upstairs with Jinyoung following quickly behind. “Don’t you want to know why I was with him?” you suddenly asked.

“No I don’t want to know,” he replied, untying his tie and tossing it on the couch.

"If he can find out I was pregnant two years ago, he can find out why you left me,” you revealed.

“What?” Jinyoung turns to you, angry. “You’re so desperate to find out why I left you, you were willing to strip down naked for him,” he accused.

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know you,” he said walking away from you.

You chuckled in disbelief. “Let’s call off the wedding then,” you suggested.

Jinyoung turns around to look at you, “No, I won’t call off the wedding.”

“Jaehyun was right.”

“What?” he asked, confused and angry.

“You said it yourself too. You don’t know me. Why get married to someone you don’t know?” you asked him. “I told you. This is the one thing standing in between us. I won’t get married unless you tell me the truth.”

“Why can’t you just let it go?”

“I can’t let it go. I won’t,” you said with tears in your eyes. “You left me and that’s a fact. But what I went through, you’ll never know,” you spatted.

“I do know...”

“No you don’t,” you argued. “I carried him in my stomach. I felt his kick, his movements,” you cried. “You didn’t lose him. I lost him. And you’ll never know what it feels like.”

Jinyoung looks up from his feet, with tears in his eyes. “No, you have no idea. I know. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“What?”

Jinyoung walks up to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He stares at you. “The reason I left you two years ago. I’ll tell you everything if you want to know so badly.” He brings you over to the bed, sitting down next to you. “Remember when we first met? You overheard me talking on the phone with someone about the house by the lake.” You nodded, recalling the memory at the lake house. “They found you when you tried to warn me not to come. You saved me so I had to save you,” Jinyoung explained, holding your hand. “You became my liability that day.”

“I know,” you smiled softly at him.

“I lied to you. You asked if I killed those men and I said I didn’t, but I did. I did kill them,” he admitted. You glanced over at him. Your eyes met his, “When we were in Paris, Mark got a called from my father’s body guard. Their brother found out I killed them so they sought revenge and went after my father. They killed him.”

Your eyes widen, shocked at the words that just came out of his mouth. “No...” Your eyes clouded with tears, “But...but I didn’t see it on the newspapers.”

Jinyoung wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I left because I had to take care of the aftermath. We couldn’t let the public know or else everyone would come after us.”

“Jinyoung...” you whimpered, looking up at him.

“I was mad at myself. I didn’t know how to face my family, I didn’t know how to face you. I blamed you.”

“It’s all my fault,” you repeated after him as tears fall from your eyes. You tried to move away from him, but he holds you tight against his chest.

“You didn’t do anything. I made those choices and I chose to save you. I chose to make you my liability,” he explained. “I didn’t contact you because I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to feel guilty like I did.”

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed in his chest.

“Shhh...” he comforted. “It’s already in the past. I’ve moved on already.”

“Does your mother know?” you asked, looking up at him with tears still in your eyes.

“She knows.”

“That’s why she doesn’t like me,” you concluded. “I killed her husband.”

“I don’t want you to say things like that ever again,” Jinyoung said wiping your tears away. “I needed time to figure everything out, clean up the mess. I also realized how easy it was for me to lose someone I love. I mean look at my father. He has more body guards than I do, and look what happened to him.”

“You really were protecting me.”

“I tried too,” Jinyoung pulled you away to look at him. “Now you know everything. You know I’m a liar and a murderer. Do you still want to marry me?” he asked tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yes,” you nodded with tears in your eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Jinyoung smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. “That’s the first time you said you’ll marry me willingly.”

“I’m sorry Jinyoung. I hated you for so long. If only I knew -”

“I didn’t want you to know. I made a decision to leave you and it cost us our baby. I’m the one that should apologize,” Jinyoung said giving your forehead a gentle peck.

You shook your head, “What do we do?”

He strokes your cheeks gently with his thumb. “We move on. We forgive each other and move on.” After several attempts to calm you down and being unsuccessful, Jinyoung carries you to the bathroom to draw you a bath. “Call me when you’re done,” he said kissing your cheek.

“Don’t leave me,” you tell him.

“I would never,” he said stroking your cheek. The both of you strip down naked and climbed into the bath tub together. He pulls your body close to his as you laid your head on his shoulder. “Feeling better?”

“Mhmm...” you hummed, snuggling closer to him.

“I love you,” Jinyoung whispered against your temple. “So much...”

You turned to face him and for the first time you whispered back, “I love you too.” Jinyoung smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. His arms wrapped around your naked waist, pulling you close to him as he rubbed your back up and down. You gently placed your hand on his chest, feeling his tongue slip in your mouth. His tongue roams in your mouth, shoving it down your throat and making you moan. Jinyoung’s lips wanders down to your jaw where he leaves subtle kisses along it.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ears as he nibbles and sucks on your earlobe. You threw your head back, letting out a soft moan. “You’re so beautiful,” he complimented. You feel Jinyoung’s teeth graze against the skin on your neck, leaving a light red mark.

“The wedding’s tomorrow. Don’t leave a mark,” you warned him. You tangled your fingers in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

“I’ll mark the places no one, but me can see,” he said against your skin. He lifts your body up closer to his - your core just above his now hardened member. You core was coated with your juices, dying to be touched. Jinyoung reaches for your core, running his fingers up and down your folds, stopping at your clit. His thumb presses against your clit, making you moan.

“Fuck...” you moaned, attempting to spread your legs further apart in the bath tub.

“Even in water I can feel how wet you are,” Jinyoung smirked before wrapping his lips around your breast. He slips two fingers into your core, pumping it in and out vigorously. You dug your nails in his chest, dragging it down to his torso. It immediately turns red. “I missed hearing your moans,” Jinyoung whispered in your ear.

“Don’t stop...” you begged, bouncing on his fingers. He picks you up out of the bath tub and carries your naked body back to your shared room. Jinyoung lays you down on the bed and then climbs on top of you.

“Have I told you, you’re beautiful?” he smiles down at you. You laugh, nodding. He leans down to give your lips a soft peck before moving down to your core. He spreads your legs apart, blowing a breath of cold air into your wet pussy.

“Hurry up,” you whined.

“Is someone needy?” he teased, tracing his fingers up and down your folds. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes...” you stuttered. Jinyoung’s grip on your thighs tightened. You let out a loud gasp once you feel his thick lips on your pussy. He sucks on your fold meticulously, lapping up all your juices. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy. His tongue enters your core making your whole body shiver in pleasure. His hand spreads your folds, exposing your clit to the cold air. Jinyoung rubs your clit in circular motions. You squirm in pleasure as you feel the pit in your stomach grow. “Fuck...Jinyoung,” you moaned his name out loud. “Fuck...” Your moans were music to his ears. His hand on your core quickens as you keep squirming underneath him. He knew you were close. “Don’t stop....don’t stop...” you begged again and again. You screamed his name out loud as a wave of pleasure overwhelms your body.

“You taste just as good as I remember baby,” he smiles, moving away from your core. You got on your knees in front of him. “You don’t have too.”

“I want too,” you said firmly. “Let me.”

You leaned down close to his hardened member. You quickly looked up at him. Jinyoung smiles down at you, stroking your cheek. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out at him while keeping your eyes on him. You placed his cock on your tongue before wrapping your mouth around it and giving it a long hard suck. Jinyoung lets out a low groan, grabbing your hair in a ponytail. He tried to control himself, being as gentle as possible but he couldn’t control it. His grip on your ponytail tightens as he forces his cock down your mouth; his tip hitting the back of your throat. You choke, but he doesn’t stop. He continues to shove his cock down your throat. Your hands wrapped around his cock, moving in sync with your mouth.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good.” Jinyoung finally pulls his cock out of your mouth when he feels that he’s close. Your eyes were red and filled with tears; saliva dripping down your chin. “You were so good,” he smiles at you, stroking your cheek and wiping your tears away. Jinyoung guides you to sit on top of him, his cock slipping into you. The both of you let out a loud moan. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.”

“Jinyoung...” you moaned, moving up and down his cock. He holds your waist tight, guiding you to bounce on top of him. Jinyoung roughly grabs your neck, pulling you down for a kiss. He shoves his tongue your mouth while reaching your clit. He rubs your swollen pussy in circular motion as you continued to ride him. You reached for headboards for support as you grind your pussy further into him; feeling his tip reach a place that made your body shake in pleasure. “Jinyoung I’m close,” you moaned.

“Almost there baby,” he said picking up his pace when he feels your pussy clench around him. You dug your nails into his skin as a wave of pleasure washes over your body. You hear Jinyoung groan underneath you, feeling his hot seed cover your walls.

The sound of heavy breaths and panting covered the room. He smiles up at you, pulling you in for a soft kiss before slipping out of you. Jinyoung pulls your body close to his; your back against his chest. He kisses your shoulder as you snuggled close to him.

You were going to marry this man willingly tomorrow.

a little note from jennie: many of you have asked how many chapters my story has and i honestly don’t have an answer. i write chapters and then post automatically. i don’t preplan any chapters or save any drafts to post later. so i hope you all understand! i’ll be introducing new stories soon. love you all!

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trashmenofmarvel · 3 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 32

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Broken from the time-loop, you and Bucky discuss next steps.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Mild anxiety attacks and dissociation

AO3

“You…”

If you were sweating like a marathon runner, then Bucky was panting like a winded horse that had been galloping too long for too fast.

“What… did you see?” He was perched on the edge of the bed, tail thumping against the covers in agitation.

You sat further upright, trying to catch your breath. You confirmed that, yes, you were back in your own room, in your own body. It was nighttime, cold, and the house was quiet because everyone else had gone to bed. The solid softness under your hands grounded you, confirmed that this was real and you were back where you were supposed to be.

You could barely process his question.

“I… I don’t know—“

Bucky gripped you by the shoulders and leaned over you, expression a mixture of fear and panic.

“What did you see? Tell me!”

“Everything!”

You winced and lowered your voice, not wanting to wake anyone, trembling violently in his hands.

“I saw everything.”

Bucky deflated, releasing you with horrific guilt written all over his face as he backed away from the bed.

“And…” You looked up at him, dazed, gripping the bedspread like a lifeline. “And I… didn’t just see. I was… with you…”

“No…”

“…in that place. The demon realm—“

“No, no, no, no.” Bucky stumbled back, his tail whipping around as he gripped the sides of his head. “That wasn’t you. That wasn’t you. It can’t be.”

“Bucky, please, look at me,” you quietly begged. But he wouldn’t. He shook his head, paced your room like a caged animal, but he wouldn’t look at you.

“It’s my fault. My fault. This wasn’t supposed to happen, something went wrong. Oh, God, what did I do? What did I do to you?”

He was spiraling and there was nothing you could do to stop it. As soon as you stood from the bed, Bucky flinched away, staring at you in naked terror.

“I can’t…”

He choked out the words, turned to your windowsill, and flung it open. The same windowsill he’d fled from twenty years ago. Wings ripped from his shoulder blades, shredding the back of his shirt, and he leapt through, disappearing into the darkness with a rush of air washing over you.

You stared at the open window for a long time. Long enough that the room had gotten cold enough to see your breath. And still you stood there, frozen, your mind a blank space as your body felt strange and far away.

Something warm and alive rubbed against your leg, a concerned meow bringing you back to the present. You shook off your daze and quickly shut the window, drawing the curtains back over the dark glass.

Picking up Monster, you returned to the bed and crawled under the covers, holding him tight as you shivered violently.

You waited for Bucky to return, watching the digital read-out of the old clock as it crept past midnight. The exhaustion of parsing through all the memories, of feeling as if you’d lived several lives over the span of just a few minutes, and then for Bucky to just take off… You were torn between fatigue and depression that felt more akin to grief.

As the clock ticked past two in the morning, you wondered if Bucky would be coming back. Maybe this was the thing that broke him. You couldn’t even blame him.

Burying your face in Monster’s fur, which may have grown damp against your cheeks, you let the exhaustion overtake you, pulling you into merciful darkness.

Except it wasn’t merciful. Confusing images swirled past you. Freezing bunkers, a red, dead world, a pretty rooftop garden with a kind, bald woman. She reached out to you, and you tried to grab her hand but you slipped backwards, out of reach.

Down, down you fell, through the freezing air, until you crashed into the snow, left broken and bleeding red against the white.

You awoke with a start, heart leaping in your throat. The room was cold again, and your back ached from the aftereffects of the horrifically realistic dream.

The noise that woke you repeated itself: Monster was hissing into the dark.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” a low voice responded. “Don’t have to tell me. Move over.”

Monster spit his annoyance, but he wiggled out of your arms and jumped off the bed, vanishing out of sight in that way he had of doing.

“Bucky?” Your whisper had barely any strength to it.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I’m… I’m here. Can I… come to bed with you?”

You pulled back the covers without hesitation, shifting back to give him room. The room was dark but you could still see him slip under the blankets as the mattress jostled from the additional weight.

Your fingers brushed against his arm and you almost drew back.

“You’re freezing.”

Bucky released a snort, settling down into the bed as he rested his head on the pillow next to yours.

“I’ll live. My own damn fault, anyway. I shouldn’t have left.” He found your hands under the covers and squeezed them gently. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Despite how cold he was all over, you pressed right up to him, tucking your head under his chin as you hugged his arms against your chest, seeking comfort while simultaneously trying to warm him up. That was something you couldn’t forget from the memories. Bucky hated the cold.

“I forgive you.” You rested your chin on your favorite spot, his collarbone. “So long as you forgive me for what happened tonight. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

“What? Why would you even say that? Of course it was my fault!”

Your shoulders hunched inward. How much could you tell him? You didn’t want Bucky to take the blame, but you weren’t sure if what the Ancient One had told you had been just for you and Strange.

Plus, Bucky had a complicated relationship with the sorcerers, and he already got weirded out by magic… Perhaps it would be better to wait to tell him the full truth when you actually knew what that was.

“Well…” You scooted a little closer. Even now you were craving contact, wanting to touch him even if it was selfish. After not having a body for so long, it was nearly a physical need. “Weird stuff keeps happening to me, right? The portal. The demons coming after me. Having a hobgoblin for a pet. That’s… that’s probably got something to do with me, at the very least.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment. You waited, barely breathing, having no idea which way he would go. Continue to blame himself for everything, or allow someone else to shoulder the burden for once?

“I think we should talk to Strange,” he finally said.

You nearly melted with relief. This was good. Maybe you could talk to Strange and not involve Bucky at all with the weird time-loop, memory, magic stuff. At least Bucky could stop blaming himself for things he wasn’t responsible for.

Maybe Strange had been wrong about you being the magic equivalent of a dead battery. As much as you tried not to think about it, you knew something wasn’t normal if you were attracting demons left and right. What happened tonight just confirmed that something more was going on.

You just wished the Ancient One had been more clear about what she meant by training, not to mention that ominous bit of advice at the end. You were supposed to make a choice that would affect both of your lives? What the fuck? You were really beginning to understand Bucky’s frustration the wizards.

Hopefully, you could go to Strange for help without him finding out about the bond. It was a complicated balancing act you would somehow have to manage.

“I agree,” you said. “Your wizards are equipped to deal with this stuff, aren’t they?”

Bucky chuckled. He’d only been gone a few hours and you’d already missed that sound.

“They’re not my wizards, but yes.”

He made a low, comforting sound, almost like a purr, as he pulled you against his chest and petted your hair. Your eyelids drifted shut of their own accord, and you would have purred yourself if you could.

“Either way, I won’t run away again. I promise.”

Listening to his heartbeat, slow and steady against your ear pressed to his chest, you prayed it was a promise Bucky could keep. After the confusing but undeniable lifetime you’d spent together, you couldn’t imagine a life without him. You wanted to talk to him about everything you’d experienced in that place, but you were too tired, and Bucky’s breathing had already slowed to a steady rhythm. Tonight had taken a lot out of him, out of you both. The least you could do was get some rest.

But rest didn’t find you so easily. No matter how much you tried to push it out, the image of the dried-up corpse plagued your thoughts, and you eventually drifted into a restless sleep, dreaming it had your face. Long dead with a pentagram stretched across your shoulder.

Next Chapter

#branded #bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky barnes #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing

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ahsokasanity · 3 years

Link

In case you missed Chapter One of A Court of Shadow and Ribbons

Chapter Two

At Vallahan, the sun was bright and the snow was lighter. Azriel shielded his eyes from the glare as he spiralled down toward the veranda of Mor’s estate. One that he had been shown once and never been invited back to. He always had found that weird. Mor loved it here, but maybe it was that quiet and that isolation that made her keep it to herself.

There was no sign of habitation, but the house was not closed up and the horses were close to the stables, a small group of four eating hay from a rack and stomping on the brown remnants of last night’s eddies of frozen moisture. Azriel headed that way.

He heard the sound of hooves and realised that the horses had stopped eating and were staring, ears up across toward the ocean. Grey chop was crested by white caps signalling the dangerous swells and even more frightening shoreline surrounding this haven of The Morrigan. In the distance he could make out three riders, the middle so obviously Mor with her blonde hair caught in movement and shimmering to her waist. At last he could hear her laughter and noted the males with her. One was Lucien, the other he wasn’t sure of.

He cursed under his breath. Not the quiet getaway he was hoping for, and the one person that he was not prepared to play courtier with today. He winnowed back to the veranda and sat in the corner most chair hidden amongst his own and the house’s shadows.

“If you think that I didn’t see you slinking here Az, you do not know me well” Mor peeked out of the door to the living room a little while later. Azriel shrugged but rose to greet her. It was unusual for Azriel to hug Mor when they were not in company but he did and she sucked in a comment as he released her and took her elbow to lead her to the other chair. She sat, back to the afternoon sun and legs crossed, looking for all the world like a woman at ease. She was not. Az was not himself today so nor could she be.

Together they had been spies, they had been political pawns, they had been sparring partners and determined allies. Today felt different. Azriel was different.

“How are you?” She asked tentatively

“Fine” he replied, “and you?”

Mor inwardly shrugged, so it was to be that kind of conversation was it?

“I’m good, is everything OK, Feyre, the baby, the rest of them?”

“Yep” Azriel’s reply was clipped. Something was really eating him.

This scenario was all too strange. Mor was entirely accustomed to a silent Az, a fighting Az, even a furious Az, but not this. This shell of her friend.

She figured pushing forward was the only option, even without Cassian here as her buffer.

“Well, I had a nice ride along the shore with Lucien and Prince Thedren, we might be getting closer to that treaty, but it’s taking so long”

“Did you ever think that we might be closer than we are Mor” Azriel’s question ripped the air from her lungs. He stared at her and she’d seen that look before. Blurred memories of when he’d had to torture information from an enemy and time was short and he hated himself for what he was doing.

“Yes, no….. I don’t know” She blurted out. “What do you want to know” she spoke low and quiet, her knee caps began to jump around and her vision blurred for a moment. Did he know about her, had he found out from Feyre? Did his spies finally report something that would lead him to the truth of her?

“I want to know… I want to know. No, I don’t really” He clammed up then and turned his head away from her.

It broke her heart and she knew what he wanted. He wanted what she wanted; only not with him, not with any male.

“I love you Azriel” she said it so quietly that Az didn’t turn, he didn’t acknowledge the statement. She said it a little louder

“I love you Az and that’s why I should have told you this a long time ago” He seemed to be listening now.

Mor threw herself at his feet and took his hand in both of hers and looked at him directly

“I have taken many years to come to terms with this and I don’t think that I’m ready for everyone to know, but I’m not…. I can’t” She shook her head and went to release his hand. Azriel held on and put his other hand over hers

“Tell me. Please Mor, I need to know”

“I don’t want to be with a male, mated to a male. I love you, and Rhysand and Cassian, but I’m not put together that way” She dropped her eyes and wilted. Her riding skirts spread out around her feet and her blue scarf made the tears in her eyes gleam like jewels.

“I’m so sorry for the months, the months and years that I knew I had to tell you and was too scared. I’ve hated myself for every torn look and every unspoken word between us. For the stupid thing that I did with Cassian, even though it led to us all being together. I’m so sorry Az”

All he did was gather her up onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, sigh into her side and mumble

“It’s OK, it’s OK”

She wept then. The unimaginable forgiveness from her friend, her brother and the releasing of that truth that she always tried to outrun. Rhys saw it. That’s why he stationed her away from the family, to give her room. Room to be, room to grow. She was just realising now that she didn’t need to hide from them in her own space. She could have that and be what she needed to be. Just maybe not all at once.

Azriel was not sure for how long they sat there, breathing together and holding tight. He knew when he let go, he would be letting go of more than her presence. He would be surrendering the dream. The future of he and Mor mated and a family, fathering her children and watching them grow with their closest friends. He was letting go of decades, a century of never looking around himself to see what could be his life, to see who could be his family. Letting it all go.

He thought for a moment of Elain. Rhys’s warning ringing clearly in his head. He stopped it. No, not one more unattainable female. He was going to be brave. As brave as Mor was in relinquishing her secret to him. He was going to let the world show him where he should be, instead of fighting against the tide always to stay where he should not.

“Oh, thank the cauldron you did not present yourself to us this afternoon. Lucien is so touchy when it comes to you and Elain, and I would have known something was up. I would have stumbled into some no-man’s land of conversation. You know how my open mouth gets me into trouble sometimes” Her eyes sparkled

They were inside now with the fire blazing and wine in their hands. Azriel was reclined in an armchair and Mor on the lounge with her legs tucked up under her. She had changed into house sweats and her face shone with love and with relaxation. Azriel found that the sight of her just pleased him. Filled his chest with happiness. There was no want, no tug, no hunger for intimacy. She was Mor. His Mor and their Mor and herself, and she was happy. He smiled at her and her face lit up as she watched his shadows dance in the fire’s light.

“Yes, well. Ryhs probably had the right tack. We need Lucien and more than that we need Elain happy. Starting a blood feud with the Autumn – and Dawn courts for that matter….” Mor gasped

“You know it too”

“What?” Azriel tried to look innocent

“You are a shit liar Az and you know full well that I’m talking about Lucien and the Dawn court – yes. I know that he’s Hellion’s son just as well and probably for as long as you have”

Azriel relaxed and realised his slip up. So very unusual of him. Mor’s mood and the wine and some sense of release had him relaxing too much.

“Well, anyway, we can’t afford it. You know that I want Elain to be happy, but this bond has to be sorted out one way or another. She can’t live like this and I know that I cannot. So, what never started is over and I am OK with that”

Azriel shifted his wings and yawned

“I have NEVER seen you do that Az, not ever in four hundred years” She patted the lounge next to her. “Come over here and get your body horizontal and your wings out of your way, you look like you need a proper sleep” Azriel hesitated then stood, but he didn’t sit next to her, he took her hand and indicated the bedroom

“If I’m going to be your friend and not your anything else for the rest of time, I think that you can give me one night”

Mor stood and followed him down the hall and into her room with it’s massive bed and cream throw rugs and squishy mattress that she loved.

“I might want more than one night Az, you know I’ve heard the girls from the Sidra Salvation fighting over you”

He smiled back at her and gave her hand a tug

“Maybe they were fighting over you”

She laughed so joyously that he grinned and pulled her onto the bed beside him. She was still laughing as he kissed her knuckles and spread his wings behind him to keep them from being crushed

Mor was so happy, she couldn’t believe that they had both let this tension run on for all time. He was her friend and she was his and she didn’t ever have to be scared for him, scared of hurting him, again.

“Well, now that we’re here I might as well tell you about Gwyn” Azriel spoke into the pillow under his head without making eye contact with Mor. She smirked and squeezed his hand

“Tell me everything”

Chapter Three

#acosf #gwynriel #moriel #Azriel #spoilers #no smut yet #angsty #at last #Mor out

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lit-in-thy-heart · 3 years

Note

merlin and gwaine, (romantic relationship) Hug with a kiss/ Lifting-off-the-ground hug

@bionic-staring-machine thank you for sending in a prompt!! 💕(and i'm going to try not to say that word too many times in this post this time...)

this is set in 4×06 because we ignore canon in this household, seeing as we were robbed of a merwaine reunion scene even though gwaine had literally been praising merlin moments before they found him

(some creative licence used with the fomorroh kicking in)

hope you enjoy it and i will gladly take more prompts from people!!

again, under the cut because i cannot keep things concise:

The ride back to Camelot was more of a trial than training had ever been. Gwaine could feel Merlin pressed against him for the whole journey, relishing the arms encircling his body – even if they were caked in mud – and the soft breath bumping clumsily against the back of his neck. He wanted nothing more than to hold him close, even if they were currently pressed against one another, and let the overpowering taste of cinnamon that clung to Merlin’s pores numb his tongue. Of course, at that moment, it was mud that would be the overpowering taste, and Gwaine had to remind himself of that fact each time the urge to turn around and kiss Merlin overwhelmed him.

They finally trotted into the courtyard and Gwaine dismounted first, his hands reaching up to slot beneath Merlin’s armpits. Although Merlin seemed fine, he was still wary of applying too much pressure to the tender area where Merlin had been wounded. As he absorbed Merlin’s weight, Gwaine rooted his feet more firmly into the ground, lowering the servant carefully and quietly enquiring after his welfare with his eyes. Receiving a gentle smile in return, Gwaine ducked his head slightly and turned to Arthur, one hand still hooked around Merlin’s arm.

‘I’m just going to help get Merlin cleaned up.’

There was a slight smirk playing on Arthur’s mouth as his eyes darted between the two of them. ‘Of course.’ He approached Merlin and ruffled his muddy hair. ‘It’s good to have you back, Merlin.’

With one final smile, he jumped up the steps and disappeared into the castle. As the horses were taken back to the stables, Gwaine turned to look at Merlin again. He had spoken at all on the ride back, mentioned nothing about the situation he had been in, but Gwaine couldn’t blame him. He was probably still in a state of shock and unprepared to discuss his ordeal just yet. Gwaine’s thumb found shelter beneath Merlin’s jaw and gently stroked away a thin layer of mud. There would be time for Merlin to talk, more than enough time, and Gwaine would be there, waiting, when he was ready.

‘Come on, my bog man, let’s get you cleaned up.’

There was a tight nod and Merlin leaned into Gwaine, hand reaching down for the knight’s. Settling his gaze in front of him so as to better navigate their way to his chambers, Gwaine gently tugged Merlin alongside him, careful to keep the pace slow and prevent Merlin from stumbling. When they approached Gwaine’s chambers, his servant, Tom, was on the verge of passing by. Gwaine caught his shoulder lightly with his hand, murmured in his ear about the possibility of fetching a bathtub, and slipped through his own door, Merlin in tow.

Merlin still wasn’t saying anything and, when Gwaine glanced at him after stripping off his cloak and chainmail, seemed to be flinching sporadically at nothing tangible. Eyebrows drawing together, Gwaine squatted down in front of the bed, teasing Merlin’s gaze towards him as his fingers clasped his face.

‘Hey. It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.’

Gwaine was still desperately holding his gaze as Tom entered with a bathtub and second servant carrying hot water. Fingers still framing Merlin’s face, Gwaine tore his eyes away to thank them and waved away offers to help him. He didn’t want to overwhelm Merlin with too many faces, not after he presumably encountered numerous ones when in the clutches of the mercenaries.

Once the door had closed, Gwaine moved across the room to lock it and poured the water into the tub, pushing up the sleeves of his gambeson and loosening the knot of the string around his wrist to tie back his hair. ‘Merlin,’ he softly said, returning to the servant. ‘Is it alright if I undress you?’

Merlin blinked once, twice, and the smallest of smiles crept onto his mouth. ‘You don’t have to treat me like I’m about to break, Gwaine, it’s okay. I’m okay.’

There was a strange lilt to his voice that pierced the odd word and Gwaine fought down the curiosity rising within him. He had no idea what exactly Merlin had been through, and a change in tone could be a completely understandable consequence. It sounded as if he was trying to force the words out, as if they were caught in some sort of trap and were struggling to worm their way through the holes in the net. Instead of asking, Gwaine elected for an indicator of reassurance, placing one hand on Merlin’s cheek as he eased the knot in the neckerchief with the other.

At Gwaine’s touch, Merlin closed his eyes, back remaining taut as the knight peeled off the jacket and gingerly pulled Merlin’s shirt over his head, tossing it to one side on the floor. Gwaine hesitated. The remnants of the wound were still hauntingly apparent on Merlin’s chest as he reached out, fingers barely making contact with the mutilated skin for fear of aggravating it. There were no signs of infection and the blood that Gwaine would have expected for such a wound was absent. A delicate crease formed beneath Gwaine’s lower lip but he decided he’d wonder about why mercenaries would patch Merlin up later. His hand travelled further down the servant’s body and Merlin was undressed by the muscle memory in Gwaine’s fingers before he uncertainly clambered into the water.

The mud ran like veins of blood when Gwaine ran his wet hand along the cocoon it had formed around Merlin’s body. He was careful to avoid the wound, along with the constant chastisement that he should have been paying more attention to Merlin, and Merlin leaned back against the side, focusing on the movement of Gwaine’s fingers. As the touch migrated to Merlin’s hair, he closed his eyes and tilted his head further back. Gwaine worked his way through the matted thatch on top of Merlin’s head slowly, rubbing the strands between his fingertips and giving in to the urge that had been plaguing him since he had set eyes on Merlin again. His mouth found Merlin’s temple and he withdrew as he felt the muscles in Merlin’s cheeks twist into a smile.

Gradually, Merlin’s hair returned to its natural hue and Gwaine seized a cloth to chase away the last splashes of mud hiding behind his ears. Gaze dropping, the knight frowned at what appeared to be a long bruise stretched across the back of Merlin’s neck. His fingers dusted over it and Merlin violently lurched forward, sending water splashing over the sides of the tub.

Head lowered, Merlin took a sharp breath and opened his eyes, looking anxiously towards Gwaine. ‘Sorry.’

Gwaine shook his head, wiping his hands on the cloth. ‘I’m the one who needs to apologise. I should have realised it would be so tender, being so fresh.’

Merlin’s hand jumped to the back of his neck, water dripping like spring dew from his fingers. ‘What is it?’

‘A bruise, by the looks of it,’ Gwaine said, standing to retrieve a towel. ‘And a painful one at that; it’s slightly raised.’

Making contact with it, Merlin pressed down on the affected area and resisted the urge to throw up. He could have sworn that the skin beneath his fingers had moved. ‘Weird. I don’t remember getting it.’

Gwaine spared him a smile. ‘That’s not surprising. How many times do you wake up with your legs covered in bruises?’

‘That’s because you kick me during the night!’

‘Yeah, but you don’t remember getting them, do you?’ Gwaine replied, holding out the towel. The mild nausea in his stomach had subsided now that Merlin’s voice wasn’t sounding so strange. His smile faded slightly. ‘Though it was concealed by your neckerchief. It may have been that they thought the best way to transport you was by that, and it’s left a mark.’

Merlin stepped out of the bath and wrapped the towel around his waist, fingering the wound on his chest. There were words just waiting to pour out of him, but it was as if they were being held back by the anticipation of waiting for a signal before an attack. He chose to smile at Gwaine and tried not to worry too much about the slight tinge of concern that lurked in his eyes. It was only natural that it was there, after all. Merlin had disappeared off the face of the earth and had come back beaten and bruised. Of course Gwaine was going to be concerned about him.

As an attempt at reassurance, Merlin took several steps towards the knight and put his arms around his neck. ‘I’m okay, you know,’ he quietly said, the short four words drawing all the strength he had from him.

Despite it being the tone that he’d used time and time again with Gwaine, it felt unnatural on his tongue. Merlin pushed it aside. He was tired, that was all. He still loved Gwaine.

The knight wrapped his arms around Merlin, settling against the right side of the servant’s body and burying his face in his shoulder. ‘You scared me, you know that? I couldn’t sleep at all. Not by myself. Not when I knew you could be out there somewhere, dying.’

Merlin’s hand reached up to cradle the back of Gwaine’s head. A strange sensation was washing over him, filling his limbs with a numbness that he forced them to bitterly push through because his heart was telling him to cling to Gwaine, even if his head was beginning to grow impatient and was hissing ideas of pulling away and fleeing to Arthur. ‘I know,’ he heavily said. ‘I know.’

He did pull away, then, his hands catching Gwaine’s arms as he teased away the knight’s face from his shoulder with his mouth. As Gwaine felt Merlin’s lips kissing away the tears that had threatened to fall onto his chest, he snatched at them with his own mouth, savouring the taste that was like rain on the ground. His arms were still tightly wrapped around Merlin, as if his body was afraid that Merlin would disappear without a trace once again, fingers fumbling across the masterpiece that was Merlin’s frame. Merlin’s body was the only map that Gwaine could ever recall from memory and his grip found the hidden coves that remained a secret to the rest of the world.

Knowing that it probably wasn’t wise to do it when Merlin was in such a delicate condition, despite all the servant’s assurances, but too weak to fight yet another urge, Gwaine gradually lifted Merlin off the ground, twisting one leg between the servant’s.

Merlin, ignoring the distant screams in his head of being off-track, pushed out a laugh once he had recovered from the initial shock. ‘You’re going to injure yourself, Gwaine.’

‘You give your muscles more credit than is due, Merlin,’ Gwaine grunted, electing to carry Merlin over to the bed.

Merlin’s muscles, however, won that particular battle with the aid of gravity and Merlin fell backwards onto the bed, barely missing the circle of mud left by him earlier. Gwaine rolled to the side and moved to detach his arms when Merlin pressed himself against the knight’s chest. It wasn’t often that he was able to lie in Gwaine’s arms, and to say that he was irritated at the growing sense of restlessness in his legs and mind would be an understatement. He allowed himself to bask in the warmth of Gwaine’s body for several moments more, trying to tether himself to the gentle pulse throbbing through them both, and kissed Gwaine’s mouth once more before disentangling himself and finding the spare clothes he kept in the wardrobe.

When Merlin had quietly exited, Gwaine clung to the shadow of his body against his own, rather than the heavy tone or anxious alertness that had encircled Merlin’s eyes. Merlin was home, and that was all that mattered. With a sigh, Gwaine hauled himself into a sitting position. Perhaps it was a good opportunity to strengthen his muscles. If he had it his way, Merlin would be receiving a number of hugs over the next few days, and Gwaine did not want to face humiliation in front of other people at being unable to lift Merlin up and sustain the position.

#thanks again for the prompt!!!#merlin #gwaine #merwaine #bbc merlin #hug prompts #caring gwaine #hurt merlin #fomorroh merlin #4×06 #a servant of two masters #ponytail gwaine #lit writes

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 12: Who Are You?

You already know what’s coming. Have a poorly written, way too long, and posted way too early angst prompt. Sorry for the lack of a read more and any weird formatting, I’m on mobile 🙄

Pairing: Zelink

Summary: Link doesn’t remember. Not sure what else you expected

Warnings: depression, poorly written survivor’s guilt

Words: 2821

Masterlist

~~~

“Who are you?”

Three simple words, yet they weren’t what stung. It was the blunt and direct way he said them, leaving very little room for hope that he might’ve been joking. There was always a possibility that the stasis recovery would deprive him of his memories, and for the shortest of seconds, she wondered if she really had taken those precautions. But she had, and still he stood before her with the sword that sealed the darkness and very little memory of what it meant--if any. Yet after holding the Calamity back for over a century, this would not be what broke her.

“Zelda,” she replied softly, fighting to keep the hurt from her voice. If he could not remember, then that was not his fault. Perhaps the pictures didn’t work. Maybe he remembered nothing at all.

“Right,” Link replied with an awkward nod. His eyebrows furrowed as if the name rang a bell somewhere in the depths of his empty mind, but his tone of voice said otherwise. Zelda held her hands a little tighter, draining the color from her knuckles, and willed herself not to cry. She was stronger than this. It wasn’t his fault.

“Hyrule owes you everything,” she said as she took a slight step backwards. Maybe he noticed, because his hand moved. He dropped it before she could figure out its path. “Thank you.”

“Are you.. okay?” he asked. His eyes overlooked her with worry, scanning her for injury, even without a clue of who she was. Zelda fought the urge to step away and hide from his gaze.

“Yes,” she answered with a nod and a strained smile. “I’m okay.”

She should have been happy. She should have been reuniting with the grass and the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the world around her. But all she could do was stare at him, as if she could will him to remember or transfer her memories to him. It was in vain, and she didn’t know what else she could say to him. She’d wanted to say so much, to tell him once and for all how much he meant to her and how grateful she was that he still fought on her side, but none of it would serve any purpose now.

So Zelda turned her eyes away and looked instead to the remains of the castle. It looked familiar now that there were no guardians surrounding it, and no towering pillars encasing it like fingers threatening to crush it.

“Zelda..”

Her name did not sound the way it used to when he said it. He sounded hesitant, like he was asking whether that really was her name. It hurt that he didn’t know it.

It wasn’t his fault.

She looked towards him over her shoulder.

“Yes?” she asked. He looked as if suddenly, he couldn’t find his words.

“I, uh.. the castle is.. I can bring you to Impa.”

Impa. Zelda could do little more than nod to his offer. Her dear friend had survived the carnage, but that also meant that Link had indeed made it to Kakariko Village. She bit back the bitter thoughts and instead told herself that maybe she didn’t have all of the answers. Maybe the pictures simply didn’t work.

Link nodded to her and turned away, and she followed him wordlessly to his horse. Exhaustion was beginning to build in every last inch of her body, leaving little room for anything else after such an adrenaline rush. Yet guilt slithered its way in, as did immense sadness and a new, overwhelming loneliness. Link did not know who she was, and she knew that it might happen, but it just felt like she’d officially lost everything to the Calamity.

Her foot hit a rock and she stumbled. A quiet hiss left her lips as she dug her fingernails into her palms, and again, she fought back the tears with a wave of fury. No, she would not break now, not in front of him.

But it was hard when he looked back at her, those sky blue eyes shining with concern.

She averted her eyes, hoping to avoid the lie she’d give if he asked any question. Link said nothing, but his glances back to her became more frequent and she kept her eyes stubbornly locked on the grass beneath her feet.

“Do you have the strength to ride?” Link asked at last, when he came to a stop in front of her.

“I know the way to Kakariko,” Zelda replied as she lifted her head. It was a new feeling, a desperate one that made her heart beat so hard in her chest that she had no choice but to be aware of it. She didn’t want him to feel guilty over something he had no control over, but she also did not want his pity. She did not want him to look at her with that concern in his eyes, with his urge to help everyone he came across. Was that all she was to him now that he couldn’t remember? Just another person to help once and never see again?

It wasn’t his fault.

Zelda forced a small smile onto her lips and folded her hands again.

“I appreciate everything, really,” she continued. “But you needn’t worry.”

“You’ll never make it.” His reply was blunt, but goddesses knew he was right. She hadn’t slept, or eaten, or done anything other than hold back the Calamity for months once the stasis had broken. It was starting to take a toll, between the headache and the weakness, but she had no appetite and too heavy of a heart to sleep. Yet a century had done little to change her stubborn nature.

“I’ll be alright,” she insisted. “It’s really not that far-”

“I’m heading to Hateno anyway, and we can stop at a stable.”

Zelda took a breath. He wouldn’t be giving up easily, would he? The soul of a hero through and through, she supposed, even with little recollection of it.

“Alright,” she replied.

Except she didn’t make it to the stable. Link refused to let her walk and instead led the horse through Hyrule field himself, but no matter how hard she held to the reins, she succumbed to exhaustion.

When she stirred and pried her eyes open, she still felt as tired as she had before she’d fallen asleep. Except, she didn’t remember falling asleep. She was fairly certain she hadn’t made it to a bed either, but there was a soft pillow beneath her head and warm blankets hugging her, tempting her to fall back into the bliss of sleep. Instead, she slowly pushed herself up and rubbed at her eyes.

There were a few other beds identical to hers pressed to the circular walls. There were people bustling about, going in and out and chattering excitedly about something she couldn’t make out. The sunlight was too bright out the curtained doors of the stable for it to be morning. Zelda pressed her feet to the floor and started towards the stable exit, hugging her arms close to her chest.

“...just a few days ago! I haven’t seen it since-”

“...no idea what happened-”

“...say it’s a descendant of the champion-”

Well, she supposed a swirling beast disappearing from Hyrule Castle would be an interesting topic of conversation.

The light was blinding, and she almost bumped into someone due to it. She stumbled to the side, grabbing the door frame as she mumbled out an apology.

“You’re awake,” they replied. Zelda blinked hard, and Link came into focus. “I thought you might’ve had a concussion.”

“Why would I have a concussion?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“You fell,” he answered. “And the horse is high enough from the ground to cause injury.”

“Oh.” A wave of embarrassment washed over her and she stepped outside into the warmth of the sun so she didn’t have to look at him. He looked just the same as he had when he shielded her with his body, and yet she had no idea if he even remembered doing it.

“You were out for a while,” he replied from behind her. He sounded much closer than he had a century ago when he was reduced to three paces.

“How long?” she asked absentmindedly as she continued walking, though she didn’t know where she was going. Anywhere as long as she was out from under his gaze, she supposed. Unlike all those years ago, it hurt more than anything to know he was looking at her as a stranger. But goddesses, it wasn’t his fault, and she knew it was a possibility, so why did she feel so frustrated with him? Or maybe it was with herself for being naive enough to hope things could return to normal after the fall of her friends and her kingdom.

“Three days.”

That made her pause. She’d slept for three days. Why hadn’t he left? Zelda pushed the thought from her mind and turned to face him with another deep breath.

“I apologize for the delay,” she said, folding her hands at her chest again--something that’d become an anxious tic. “We can continue to Kakariko whenever you’re ready.”

“Here.”

Link was holding a plate out to her. It looked like an omelette of sorts, with vegetables and meat thrown into the mix, and it was small enough that it wouldn’t cause her sickness from overeating. She took it carefully with shaking hands.

“Thank you,” she whispered out, and she told herself again that he didn’t know her. He was a kind heart down to his very soul, and he would help anyone that needed it until the end of time. Goddesses knew she didn’t want his help, not like this, but she needed it.

“Take your time,” he said and placed a glass of milk on the ground. “We’ll leave after you eat.”

Zelda nodded and slid next to the glass. Link turned his back on her and walked off to speak with the stable manager, and she forced her eyes off of him. She wanted to cry. The Calamity had really left her with nothing. No home, no family, no friends, and the one person she held out hope for hadn’t a clue who she was. She dug her fingers into her hair and pressed her forehead against her knees, fighting the sting in her eyes.

She couldn’t cry. Not here. Not in front of all these strangers who would, without a doubt, come to her side and ask her if she was alright. And she didn’t know if she could answer that question without crying harder, because she wasn’t okay.

She lifted her head and took a bite of the omelette to pull herself out of her own head. It took every bit of strength she had left to keep from scarfing it down like an animal, because she was hungry even if her appetite was scarce. Even the milk, which she didn’t typically drink, was soothing and filling to her.

“I’m ready,” she said once she’d found Link again. He was standing with the horses, petting his own with a kind smile she hadn’t seen in years. She almost hated to interrupt it. The smile was gone as soon as he turned to face her. “But I can rent another horse and find my way to Kakariko myself.”

“I don’t trust you to not pass out again,” he replied, pulling his horse into the open area.

“I’m fine,” she insisted and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why don’t you want any help?” he asked. There was an edge of frustration in his voice. Perhaps this new Link wasn’t used to people rejecting him. She almost gave him the truth.

“Because you needn’t go out of your way for me, Link. You deserve to go home and rest,” she replied, reaching a hesitant hand towards him that dropped (hopefully) before he noticed.

“So do you,” he answered as he shook his head. “You faced that thing alone for a century.”

What do you know about me?

But she didn’t ask, because it wasn’t his fault.

“I’m not helpless,” she defended.

“No, you’re not.” He nodded towards his horse without a word more. Zelda sighed and climbed up, deciding the argument wasn’t worth it. This wasn’t how she’d wanted their reunion to go, and this certainly wasn’t what she wanted him to know now that he didn’t remember.

Zelda held tighter to the reins this time and willed herself to stay awake. For the most part, it worked. Only when they neared Kakariko did she begin to grow sleepy, but it was suppressed by how happy she was to see that the quaint village was spared from the devastation that the Calamity had caused. And with the path they took, she was spared the sight of Fort Hateno and the memory that came with it.

Impa was much shorter and much older than when Zelda last saw her, but her smile was as warm as ever. She welcomed the princess just as she used to, and she thanked Link for all he had done, and not a minute passed after Link had left the house before Zelda’s resolve broke. She crumpled to the floor in front of Impa’s pillow stack and let the cry rip from her throat. She dug her fingernails into her palms and squeezed her eyes shut, and Impa’s small and wrinkled hand threaded through the knots in her hair.

A century had gone by without her. A century had passed without granting her the opportunity to grieve. A century had passed and forgot her in a nightmare, and she had no more strength to hold it back. It hurt. Everything hurt. Her father--goddesses, what was the last thing she’d said to him? It was their argument, his scolding on the bridge to her study, and never would she be able to see him again, speak to him again, to have a family member left to hug her or guide her. Had her father died disappointed in her, like many of her subjects did?

Their friends, Daruk, Mipha, and Revali, trapped within the machines that once obeyed them. They trusted her, she assured them they were safe within their Divine Beasts, and they were slaughtered mercilessly by a demon too powerful for their comprehension. She tried her best to keep watch over their homes once the stasis had broken, but what could she do? If she were to fail again, if her power were to give out before the savior arrived, then their homes would be given the same treatment the rest of the Hylian population had been subject to. Urbosa, the woman who’d become such a comfort in a time where she both needed and lacked a mother figure, who was a storm of power that couldn’t be stopped, was gone too.

And Link. She loved him so much that it hurt, she watched over him and did whatever she could to keep him safe through his journey, and he hardly knew her.

This was her punishment for her failure to awaken her power in time. This was her reward for saving Hyrule a moment too late.

“It hurts,” she choked out, clutching her fists tighter.

“I know, child,” Impa whispered to her.

Her best friend, subject to the passing of time. That was really all she had left now, wasn’t it? She supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she was appreciative nonetheless. She was even appreciative for Paya draping a blanket around her shoulders at some point during her breakdown.

The Sheikah were kind to her, even if she didn’t dare step foot outside of the protection of her dear friend. The only time she did was when Impa insisted she take a bath. Even though the water was warm and welcoming, Zelda spent very little time in it. She scrubbed her skin until it was red and washed her hair as best as she could, but she wanted so desperately to get back in the house.

They gave her a warm meal, too—with Impa monitoring how much she ate or drank, and Paya even offered her bed. Zelda tried to argue, to say she didn’t want to be a bother, but she insisted. The bed was warm and far softer than the one at the stable, and she was asleep within minutes of her head hitting the pillow. Her exhaustion was still extensive enough to ward off any dreams, to leave her in a deep and heavy sleep, but at the very least, this time she woke to morning light in the windows.

And when she dragged herself out of the comfort of the bed and questioned the whereabouts of Link, deciding perhaps she should take a day to speak with him, Paya was the one to tell her that he’d left.

#zelink #febuwhump #febuwhump day 12 #angst #post calamity #Zelda fandom getting a thousand of the same #scenario because we all saw ‘who are you’#and said aha what if

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brasskier · 3 years

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Inspired by @valdomarx, @therogueheart, and that one anon, here’s a post-mountain Deaf!Jaskier story. Read it under the cut below or find it on my ao3 here.

Geralt stumbled upon Jaskier for the first time since the dragon hunt early the next spring, at a crowded market a week or two northeast of Oxenfurt. He'd stopped into town to stock up on supplies and maybe pick up a contract or two before moving along. If asked, he'd insist it was a series of hunts that brought him so close to the Academy, that he might as well follow the coin. And if he happened to run into his bard (ex-bard?), and happened to have the opportunity to apologize, and the bard happened to choose to follow him again? Well, so be it.

He smelled Jaskier before he could see him, head perking up and eyes searching the crowd for the flash of a colorful doublet and that soft brown hair. The market was teeming, thrumming with chatter, and just as vivacious as Jaskier himself.

"You goin' ta buy that or not?" The stall keeper asked, jarring him back to his abandoned transaction. He dropped a few coins on the stall, pocketed the herb, and disappeared without so much as a grunt. Weaving through the throngs of people, he relied on smell - on that familiar chamomile and saffron - until he finally spotted a glint of emerald green, and the strap of a lute. He watched from a distance.

Jaskier's hands were flashing about as dramatic as ever, glancing back and forth between the balding man tending the stall and another man standing beside him. His companion was as flamboyant as he was, dressed in a regal blue and arms waving about just as exaggeratedly. But then Geralt realized he couldn't hear Jaskier, which was unusual, because the bard had never in the two decades he'd known him been able to keep his voice down. The crowd was certainly cacophonous, but not that loud.

"Jaskier?" He drew a little closer and called his name tentatively. The bard didn't seem to react, carrying on with whatever he was doing. He tried again, a little louder, and then a third time, increasingly forcefully. He was getting irritated now - how dare he pretend to not hear me - and was tempted to simply move on. With a heavy sigh, he approached even further, lingering just a few paces behind him. "Jaskier?"

"Think someone's calling you," the stall keeper announced, jerking his head in Geralt's direction, and Jaskier waved his hands again before turning to follow the man's gaze. He blanched when his eyes finally met Geralt's, mouth hung open and hands dropping to his side.

"Geralt?" He squeaked out finally, dragging a hand up to his heart. There was an unusual quality to his voice, Geralt was quick to note. Not hoarse, like he'd heard him after many a late-night performance. Just different.

"Jaskier," he repeated, casting his gaze down to the russet dirt at his feet.

"Gods," Jaskier breathed. "Just - melitele's tits - I just…" He trailed off, wringing his hands together. Geralt couldn’t help but think he looked like one of the stray fawns that would occasionally stumble upon his campsite and linger frozen for a few moments, cast in the firelight and trembling with fear.

"It's okay, I know." He kept his eyes trained at his feet, trying to pin down the bard’s tone. The way Jaskier produced certain sounds, dragged over his vowels, a little bit of its usual edge missing. He must be overwhelmed, Geralt concluded, but he wasn't particularly convinced. "I'm sorry." He waited patiently, uncertainly, for either his acceptance or rejection.

"I need you to look at me," he said instead, surprising Geralt. He did as he was told, lifting his chin to face him. "Can you repeat that?"

"I'm sorry," he reiterated. He felt frustration welling again - he got his apology, does he really need me to repeat it? - but he quickly quashed it.

"Thank you, Geralt." He could see the emotion brimming in Jaskier's eyes. "We have a lot of catching up to do." Jaskier glanced sideways for a moment, fidgeting with one of his rings. "Perhaps we could share a drink? There's a tavern not far from here." He jerked his head to the right. Geralt grunted, and Jaskier raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Sounds good," he clarified. He was becoming increasingly convinced that Jaskier was toying with him for pleasure's sake. He knew full well how to interpret the Witcher's grunts, after all. And yet the expression drawn across his face looked impressively genuine. Humans are weird.

Jaskier uttered his thanks to the stall keeper and turned to face his companion - who'd been waiting patiently behind him - again. He wagged his hands about wordlessly, and it finally dawned on Geralt that this was not his usual theatricality - this was common sign language, and he wondered when exactly Jaskier had picked it up.

Jaskier was quiet most of the way to the tavern but seemed to perk up once they were seated - in the far back corner, Jaskier's choice. Geralt spoke first, determined to get this apology over with and behind him.

"I'm sorry about what happened." Jaskier tilted his head as he listened, chin resting on folded hands. "What I said was wrong. I shouldn't have blamed you, and…" he exhaled sharply, as if apologizing - or, more specifically, being honest and vulnerable - caused him actual pain. "The best blessing life has given me is finding you again." Jaskier's head tilted impossibly further, and then came the tears, and - fuck - did Geralt say the wrong thing?

"That's awfully sweet, Geralt," Jaskier eventually choked out, and he relaxed a little. "I'm sorry, I just--" He dragged a hand across his face. "That was so kind." He sniffled into his sleeve before finally re-righting himself. "I guess I'm just a tad sentimental." Geralt forced the best smile he could manage across his lips. "Gods, it's been so long. Go on, tell me everything you've been up to."

"Not much," he replied between sips of ale. "I'll tell you everything later." He chided himself as soon as the words left his mouth for just assuming there might be a later. "How have you been?"

"Hmm?" He sighed, fighting hard to keep from rolling his eyes.

"How have you been?" Jaskier seemed to spark to life again at this.

"Oh," he said simply, pushing his hair behind his ear and chewing on his lip. "Well, I returned to Oxenfurt, taught for the winter. I just headed out, actually. I've been a bit preoccupied." He leaned in closer, stared past Geralt at the wall behind him. "I, uhh, I got sick, coming down from the mountain." Geralt hummed, drawing a slow sip of his ale. "I mean, I kinda woke up sick, but then there was the dragon and…" He rubbed his thumb against the rough wood of the table. "Well, I was a little distracted. I don't even really remember making it off the mountain, to be honest."

"I'm sorry I didn't notice." Geralt might as well get all his apologies over with at this point, he thought. Jaskier waved a hand to hush him.

"I woke up at a healer's. Apparently someone had found me not far out of town and dragged me in." He let out a shaky exhale. "He said I'd had an infection in… In my brain." Geralt watched him with a sour mix of pity and regret, unable to shake the feeling that he should've been there. The image of Jaskier, waxy pale and slumped unconscious, trembling in a stranger’s arms, burned into his mind. "Anyway, I'm lucky I survived. But my hearing did not." Oh. Fuck. Suddenly the pieces slid into place - the sign language, the strange quality to his voice, the incessant requests for Geralt to repeat himself.

"Fuck, Jask, I'm sorry." He rarely shortened Jaskier's name, but he knew the bard liked the nickname, and it was the least he could do for him. His mind reeled with regret. He should've been there. A random stranger shouldn't have been the one to find him and rescue him. If he'd known, he'd have never - no. No, what he did was wrong outside of the context of what'd happened next, and he was not about to qualify it. Jaskier, for his part, seemed relatively unfazed.

"Nothing you could've done about it, really," he insisted, running his finger along the rim of his glass. "The healer said I just needed to fight it off on my own." This did absolutely fuck all to ease the guilt gnawing in Geralt's gut. Questions swirled in his head - how was Jaskier going to sing or play anymore? Could he still compose even? How was he going to survive; that was how he procured coin, after all? Was he… was he happy? Did he blame Geralt?

"I know, I just… can you still sing?" This question seemed to amuse Jaskier, who laughed heartily.

"Yes, Geralt, I can still deliver my fillingless pie." Geralt couldn't tell if he was serious or not, and while he used to be able to read his voice a little more consistently, he was unsure now and kicking himself for not making a better study of the bard's facial expressions and body language when they'd been together.

"You know I didn't…"

"I know. I know you didn't mean that." They sat in silence for a beat while Geralt wracked his brain for his next question.

"How? Do you sing, I mean, if you can't hear. How are you even talking to me?" He shrunk behind his tankard, suddenly embarrassed by the utter lack of tact that'd never bothered him before.

"Well, one of the perks of teaching at a premier Academy is access to some of the finest physicians this side of Nilfgaard. I'll be honest, it took a lot of work to relearn how to sing and speak; I was mute for most of my travels back to Oxenfurt, mostly out of shame." Geralt's stomach churned, imagining Jaskier entirely and utterly silent. That wasn't the bard he knew. His Jaskier never shut up, mouth constantly running faster than a horse, always a story to tell or a song to share or a joke to crack. And certainly never worried about whether anyone else wanted or needed to hear him. Jaskier was not quiet. "But fortunately I still have a tiny bit of my hearing - on the lower end, mostly, which is good for you. Plus I have decades of muscle memory, so it wasn't so bad. And as for right now? I'm mostly lipreading, though the pitch of your voice is helpful." Geralt couldn't tell whether he was being genuine or just trying to placate him. "It's just different. Have to feel it more than hear it, which if you ask me more musicians should try."

"I'm glad," Geralt gritted out, nodding at the bartender to bring another round of ale. "That you can still sing." Jaskier beamed.

"I knew you always liked my singing," he declared triumphantly, arms folded across his chest.

"Did you already know common sign?" Geralt asked instead of retorting with something snarky; let the bard have his victory.

"A tiny bit, but the language professor at the Academy was fantastic at teaching me." Geralt closed his eyes and tried to envision the odds and ends of common sign he'd picked up over his years of travel. "I made a lot of Deaf friends; they've been so supportive of me." With a sigh, Geralt decided to give it a try.

"I know a little," he signed, tentative and deliberate. Jaskier's eyes lit up.

"You do?" He signed back, eyebrows raised and grin spread across his face.

"Not much. I can…" His hands slowed, wracking his brain for the sign for learn. He sighed again and said it aloud instead. There he goes again, assuming Jaskier will stick around long enough to warrant learning more. Jaskier teared up again, and he cursed inwardly, wondering for what must've been the trillionth time that afternoon if he'd messed up.

"You'd do that? For me?" Jaskier squeaked, pawing at his eyes with a hand tucked in his sleeve.

"Of course." For a moment Jaskier looked like he might fling himself across the table and into his arms, but instead he fidgeted in his seat.

"That's enough about me now, isn't it?" Jaskier asked, always a master at changing the topic when he grew bored with it. "Tell me about your hunts." He leaned over, fished around in his pack, and plucked out his notebook and pen.

"First was an infestation of drowners," Geralt began, taking extra care to face Jaskier as he spoke, and pausing when he went to scribble something in his notes. They spent the next hour like this until, just as Geralt was beginning to wonder if the bard was going to force him to talk all night, Jaskier was tugged to the front of the tavern while excited patrons clamored for a performance. Jaskier obliged, as always, and Geralt watched, as always.

When Jaskier dropped back into his seat, shuffling his lute unceremoniously to the floor beside him, Geralt expected him to bid him a hurried goodnight, get on his way, and leave. Just a nice day catching up shared between two friends (?), and decidedly not the start of their next joint adventure. But instead of any of that, Jaskier called to the bartender for another mug, busied himself fixing his hair and his doublet.

"Told you I could still sing," he said with a wink as the bartender deposited his ale on the table in front of him. "And something to eat, please," he added before returning his attention to Geralt.

"I never doubted you," Geralt's reply came easily. It was, perhaps, the truth.

"Now then, would you say it has more or less filling now?" He leaned forward on his elbows, cheeky grin and narrowed eyes, and even Geralt could recognize the facetiousness of his words. Before Geralt could answer, he waved a hand, as if dismissing himself. "So, where were you? Something about a missing cow?" Geralt nodded, leaning back in his seat.

"So the boy told me his father would pay me, if I could find the cow. So I said, 'how much?'" He continued on with his tales, no matter how excruciatingly mundane they felt to him, until Jaskier's head dips forward and then picks back up for a third time. "Think it might be time for you to get some sleep?" He asked, and Jaskier blinked away the sleep in his eyes.

"Yeah, probably," he muttered, scrubbing at his face with one hand, the other dipping down to reach his lute. "Are you staying overnight?" He asked, and immediately flushed at the confused look he received from Geralt. "I just mean… I don't… you can't leave before I get to say hi to Roach."

"It's too dark now. I'll get a room at the inn." Jaskier’s face lit up, and he followed him in rising to his feet. "Just have to grab Roach first," he said when they finally made it out the door and into the cool early-spring night.

"M'kay," Jaskier hummed with a fond smile. He rested a hand on Geralt's shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning." It was a firm statement, certain and unquestioning.

"See you then," Geralt replied, heading back to the stable where he'd docked Roach so he could bring her closer to the inn. And he, too, was certain.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #henry cavill #joey batey #mountain breakup #deaf jaskier #deaf character #fanfiction #the witcher netflix #ao3

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