#I sang my fucking heart out danced so hard I’m so glad I went even tho I’m exhausted cause I drove like five and half hours today and had a

[milo-is-rambling]

Just took the best post concert shower of my life

[thran-duils]

Was Ich Liebe (P.1)

Title: Was Ich Liebe (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark.  Tony becomes enamored with a stripper at a club his hedonistic friend Thor owns. A casual sexual relationship quickly becomes possessive and the reader sees more of the underground mafia life than she would like to. The cherry on top is that Tony is married and so is she. Him to a woman who has no intention of losing her throne at any cost and the reader to a deadbeat alcoholic. Feeling trapped by both her previous life and the suffocating hold Tony is trying to put on her, the reader steals away in the night, which is not going to go over well. Words: 4,301 Warnings (for whole fic, more may be added): Dub-con, smut, infidelity, stripping, vaginal fingering, public sex, possessive behavior, angst, degradation kink, violence, physical abuse, domestic violence, language, drug use, alcoholism, death Author’s Note: I did not have the ability to do a one shot. As usual, this is 18+.

Intro || Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Your legs and core were burning as you ended your routine to “Walk” by Pantera. You slowly slid down the pole as it was coming to an end, ending in a deep squat at the end, ass towards the crowd.

Turning back against the lights shining at you, you crawled on your knees seductively taking bills being held out and swiping up ones that had been tossed.

The tips were good tonight. You swiped your top from the ground you had thrown off halfway through much to the pleasure of the crowd, showing off your glow in the dark skull hand pasties. Happy autumn. And you walked off, holding your cash and looking forward to switching back to six inch heels to walk around now that your set was over.

Fixing your winged eyeliner, you spotted Thor coming in through the door to the dressing room. Everyone straightened up at his presence. He came straight over to you though. “Perle room, Y/N.”

That was a private customer room. It was easier being on the stage because you were blinded from the crowd for a lot of it with the lights. One on one was harder to dissociate since they were the only other soul in the room.

“You’re picking the songs. He paid for three.”

That was always a gamble; depending on what genre the customer liked, it could go up or down hill really quick.

Thor leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “And he’s a friend of mine, so behave, you hear? Make sure he leaves satisfied. He loves ass so grind, yeah?”

A friend of his was shady no doubt. But you nodded, making eye contact through the mirror. Thor smirked before planting a kiss on your temple.

“Good set by the way.”

“Thank you,” you said as he straightened up and turned to leave you.

Shit. That meant you needed to change. Which is why you always brought an extra set of lingerie. You went to your locker and pulled out the black set.

<><><>

Since it was going to be more intimate, you chose “Was Ich Liebe” by Rammstein to start. It would allow a lot of grinding.

When you walked in, he was already sitting on the opposite of the dark room in the black light. Even in the darkness, you recognized the man. It was not hard to do so with his high standing in the mob.

Tony Stark.

He was to be treated like a high-ranking customer and you were doing to do that.

You started on the pole, circling slowly before climbing and hooking your leg to spin controlled around.

Sliding down, you crawled on all fours to him, pulling yourself up by holding onto his knees that were already spread in anticipation of you. Turning around you ground your ass into his pelvis. Leaning back your face brushed his.

“What’s your name?” he breathed into your ear. You told him your fake name and his lips tugged up at the corner briefly. “You’re real name, sweetheart.”

“That is my real name.”

He chuckled, his nose nuzzling into your neck. “If you insist so, sweetheart.”

You fell into the music, alternating between him and the pole. Your second song started, “Problem” by Natalia Kills.

You moved back to his lap. His hands ran up and down your thighs as you grinded. Which was okay until his fingers slipped past your thong, cupping your sex as you ground into him. You lost rhythm with your lap dance and his breath was hot at your ear. “Just like that, keep going. You are doing beautifully.”

Men getting handsy in the private rooms was not unusual. Especially not ones who paid like he had but you workers knew to dispel it as much as possible. Do not let them get too bold.

You had to be crafty about how you maneuvered out of the situation though. He was Thor’s friend and you knew he was powerful. You resumed grinding, and his nose brushed your neck, inhaling deeply. His fingers threatened to push in and you reacted quickly. You moved out of his lap to dip down in your dancing, forcing his hand away. You were still doing what Thor wanted, giving him a good show. Your hands gripping your ankles, you moved your ass in rhythm with the song.

Tony was not going to be deterred though. Gripping your hips firmly, he pulled you back into his lap with a rough tug. He forced your legs open again and his hand was snaking past your panties again.

As the song sang about claiming your body, Tony’s fingers slid into your pussy and you jumped away from his embrace. You stood a couple feet away, holding your arms tightly around yourself. He was frozen, looking at you expectantly.

“You… you’re not supposed to touch us. It’s against the rules,” you told him, keeping the tremor out of your voice miraculously. You knew what trouble could come from denying a man like him.

Tony brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off slowly, tasting you. Your heart was hammering with the intense stare off he was having with you. He was handsome as all hell, but you knew he was the type of dangerous you should not have in your life.

He finally shrugged. “Noted. My apologies. I’ll behave, scouts honor.”

He beckoned you back with two fingers.

You swallowed your unease and came back, resuming. He kept his hands off of you like he vowed he was going to. Still, you spent a lot of the time on the pole during your final song “Inertia Creeps” by Massive Attack.

At the end, Tony stood up and he came up to you at the pole. You looked up at him with curiosity; men usually did not move when you left the room.

He smiled devilishly down at you and held out a couple of folded hundreds. He was giving you $200 in tips? Your eyes widened and he forced them into your hand.

Before you could react, he leaned in and caught your mouth. His lips were soft but his force was rough. You were dazed when he pulled away. He winked at you.

“I’ll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart. Thanks for the sweet dreams.”

<><><>

Next weekend you were called to the Perle room again. And again, you found Tony there. He chose the set list this time and had you starting out with “Dissolved Girl” by Massive Attack. He had enjoyed the other song so much, he wanted to see you perform more of the album in front of him.

“I’ve tried to stop thinking about you. It hasn’t worked.”

His hands came up, caressing your breasts. You turned your head and his hands loosened. He laughed, nipping at your ear.

“Right, right. The rules. Darling, do you know how hard it is to remember those around you?”

“I’ve heard that before. It doesn’t make the rules any less real,” you returned, pulling away from his embrace and sashaying back to the pole.

He was watching you hungrily as you worked yourself around the pole. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.

“How would you like to make some money outside this club?”

Dipping low, you met his eyes and saw he was serious.

“If you’re asking me to fuck you, I’m married.”

That was information you rarely gave out. But Tony seemed the type of man you needed to put a hard wall up with.

Tony gave you a wide grin. “No, not fucking. Just fun. I wanna have a night out. I just want company.”

Some of the girls did escort work like that. And since it was outside the club you got to keep everything, no tax was taking off the top. And your electricity bill was going to be higher next month since winter was coming.

You did not answer him immediately, rolling the idea around. Knees spread on the ground, dancing, you met his eyes again. He was still waiting for an answer.

Getting back up sultrily, you came to sit back in his lap. He hummed in approval as you said, “Sure. Where we going?”

<><><>

“Going to whore yourself out again?” Michael asked, his words already slurring.

You were wearing a peacoat coat over your dress but he could still it was short. He disapproved of you stripping but he always backtracked when you were able to pay the bills. And more so, bring him his favorite bottle of liquor every other night. Especially since he rarely brought any money in himself. You felt an obligation to him since you had been high school sweethearts.

“For your information, no. I’m going out with friends.”

A white lie.

“What friends? Your co-hooker friends? Glad you keep such great company. A bunch of pathetic bitches just like you, starving for validation…”

“No. Well-paying friends who want my company,” you spat without thinking, angry he was always putting you down.

He got up out of his chair and you moved quickly. The last time he had laid hands on you, you had to take a week off of work and Thor had been pissed.

Your hand was on the door handle, and you had it opened quick. He stumbled and that gave you enough time to get the door closed and move down the hallway. The elevator was not an option cause it was too slow and you took the stairwell, not missing him yelling expletives at you.

He would be passed out well before you got home.

<><><>

Your dress clung tight to your body. You looked around the restaurant, worrying that you were going to be stood up. You had been here for twenty minutes and had ordered a glass of wine.

You were halfway through it without a sign of him. This place was five star, and you did not want to do a walk of shame.

Thankfully for you, Tony sauntered in five minutes later and he slid into the booth across from you, adjusting his jacket as he did. Leaning back against the booth, he threw his arm across the back of it, relaxing back, looking at you. You had chosen the seat across the table.

“You’re punctual. That’s new.”

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“Darling. I never am. Next time let’s ride together. Reservations for 7? I’m here at 7:30 at best and they know to keep the table for me.”

The first date had not even started, and he was already talking about the next.

He suddenly noticed you had a chair and as the waiter approached. He gestured at you and said, “What’s this chair doing here? Is there supposed to be more people than can fit on this booth?”

“Uh, no, Mr. Stark. It was just put there in case someone wanted it—"

“Do you want it?” Tony asked you, interrupting.

You knew the answer he wanted. Calmly, you stood up and moved around the table to sit right up next to him. His hand lying across the back of the booth caressed your shoulder.

“No, here is fine,” you said.

“That’s what I thought. Now, let’s get you something delectable to eat to match how I know you taste. Top notch deserves the same in return.”

He winked salaciously and you blushed. This off-limits escorting was not going to last long; you could sense that. He was not a man that would be satiated with just a taste. He wanted the whole course.

And that whole course was you spread out for him whenever he so pleased.

<><><>

On the fourth date, he took the plunge.

His town car took the opposite way from your turn, and you looked at him.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere where we can enjoy each other fully.”

You opened your mouth, but Tony held a finger up to your lips, winking. There was a sinister feeling behind that wink, and you closed your lips. He smiled in approval, “You’re so well behaved, sweetheart. You’re going to be a lot of fun.”

At the hotel room, legs spread wide, Tony’s large hands held you at your waist as he drove up into you hard and quick. He was not a gentle lover.

He rocked forward quickly and in one fell swoop had managed to maneuver you to pull you with him and you ended up on top. Lining himself back up with your entrance, he plummeted back in, resuming his unforgiving pace. You cried as he held your arms tight, keeping you in place to use like his own personal toy. You were an object to him that he wanted to possess.

<><><>

Leg crossed over the other, relaxing back in the armchair, Tony demanded, “What’s her name?”

Thor told Tony your fake name without missing a beat as he worked across the desk. Tony had come here for answers and Thor would be hard pressed to give them away completely.

Tony stared at him across the table unimpressed and Thor stopped typing, noticing. He simpered, “Tony, it’s for her safety.”

“Are you afraid for her? Because of me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because her husband is a real piece of work.” He noticed the look on shocked Tony’s face, and he said, “Yeah, she wasn’t lying about that. I’m assuming she told you she was married. He might be a deadbeat, but he knows how to load a punch. If he found out she was doing more than dancing, I would be afraid for her. He’s already made her miss a couple weeks of work because of his Rambo fists when he’s gotten riled up just about the dancing. Which makes no sense to me because he barely brings money in, and she is essentially the sole breadwinner.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “And you want her to stay with that?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Seems like you did.”

Thor snorted, “No, I just know what lengths you are willing to go to get your way. And I’m not sure I want you taking this on. As your friend. It’s advice.”

“It won’t be hard. I want her, so it’ll be worth the effort,” Tony said.

<><><>

“It was nice,” you told Tony as you sat in the back of his town car when he asked you how you had enjoyed the night.

He had taken you to a high-end seafood restaurant on a large boat docked at the marina. You meant what you said; it was delicious.

“I thought you would like it,” Tony stated, scooting closer and an arm slipped around your shoulder, holding you closer.

He was staring into your eyes, and you smelled the bourbon on his breath. You no doubt reeked of alcohol yourself. There was something lurking beneath his gaze though. And you soon found out what.

“Y/N,” Tony murmured. You froze and he smiled at your shock. His fingers trailed up your arm and came to cup you under the chin. “That’s such a lovely name.”

Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “How…?”

“Money talks,” Tony informed you as his hand spread to hold you beneath the jaw, fingers trailing behind your ear. You tried to pull away but his arm around you held tight, stopping your movement. He smirked briefly, “I’m not here to hurt you, darling. Don’t ever think that. I just simply adore you. I wanted to know about you. I want to take this further.”

“Further than just the bed?”

“Yes. I want you entirely.”

His firm tone was sincere. What had you gotten yourself into?

He pressed the button, and the partition went up between the two of you and the front seat. His hand left your neck to snake up your dress. “I want to call you by your real name when I take you this time.” He kissed you roughly and his lips brushed yours as he vowed, “I’ll have you whenever and wherever.”

<><><>

Months later, you awoke in the king bed in the mountain top suite. Sneaking a peek at the bedside clock, you saw it was almost four in the morning. You needed to leave. Tossing a look at Tony, seeing he was still sleeping, you tried to unravel yourself from his embrace as gently as you could.

But it was futile.

Tony yanked you back to him as you tried to crawl out of the bed. You protested lightly and he shushed you by roughly rolling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours, growing in intensity as he woke from slumber. His leg wrapped around you, trapping you against him. His cock was already growing hard again after the short nap the two of you had taken after the last tussle in the sheets.

You tried to make space as you said, “You know if I’m going to get home the time I said I was going to, I have to leave now.”

You were hours from home. He had taken you up into the mountains for the last couple of days. You had said you were going on a work trip with your coworkers per your managers request to dance at a new club. Michael would never know. That is unless you came home at the wrong time; then he would start to get suspicious.

The last couple of days had been really nice. Tony had been kind… until tonight. He always treated you to the best and made sure you were well taken care of. But he had gotten… off when he noticed you tonight having taken a nice tone and smiled at a busboy as you dropped off dishes near the kitchen entrance that was out of your way. You had only been trying to be nice to the guy. You knew what it was like working customer service and you only wanted to make his job a little bit easier. And he was not hard on the eyes. Receiving small flirtations was harmless in your eyes and it boosted your mood. It had done just that for the guy.

But upon coming back to the room, Tony was callous, and you had to pry him out of his shell with sweet words and caresses. He had been condescending, asking you if you got off on pleasing men in front of him. When you had told him you did not know what he was talking about he had torn your dress down the front, ignoring your shocked cries at his brutal behavior, and forced you onto the bed. The tatters of the dress had been torn from you completely and he had done the same to your underwear and then forcibly removed your bra from you. He had not even waited for you to get wet before slamming up into you.

“Who gives a fuck what that good-for-nothing husband of yours thinks?” He nipped at your neck, sucking in roughly. His hands gripped and held you close.

“My face does,” you retorted, trying to unwind yourself from him. But Tony was quick, locking you back down. “Tony, please.”

You managed to unlock yourself despite his grabbing and you slid off the bed, hitting the ground, your ass hitting it roughly. He exhaled sharply, glaring down at you and you moved quickly backwards, getting to your feet unsteadily. He was already getting out of the bed, and you moved quickly, snatching up your bag. Your dress was ruined, which was no matter. You could return in your sweats and top.

Tony was on you though and his grip on your bag was tight and he yanked back, drawing you with it. You let go as you stumbled as to not lose your balance and face plant. He used his momentum to throw the bag across the room by the sliding glass door.

“Tony! Stop playing games!” you said desperately, trying to move towards where he threw it, but he stepped in your way. “You know I have to get ready! You can’t be jealous of him. You know what this is.”

“So what if I’m jealous?” Tony asked, continuing to advance towards you and you kept walking backwards. Your back hit the wall, stopping your advancement. “The thought of you with him makes me sick.”

“He’s my husband—"

Tony slammed his fist on the counter, and you jumped back against the wall, causing it to shake slightly. “Stop making fucking excuses! He’s a piece of shit and you know it! Why won’t you just accept me?”

“Tony, I do—” you tried to placate him.

“Don’t you lie to me,” he warned in a snarl. “If that were true, you would be loyal to me and me only. You know how I feel. I want you. Wholly.”

That was so unfair of him to say when you knew he was married. But you also knew better than to point that out. Not when he was this belligerent; you knew belligerent men were hardly able to be reckoned with and calmed down. No, you needed to use other facts.

“And you did, this whole weekend,” you pointed out in shaky tones.

Tony’s laugh was maniac, “’Weekend’. Yeah, that’s what I mean when I say wholly.”

You tried to dodge around him quickly to go towards your bag, but he jolted out and grabbed you around the waist, swinging you around. You kicked your legs as he dragged you. You bounced on the mattress, not fully on it but not fully off it either. You grabbed at the sheets to get leverage and you got grounded just as his hand closed around your ankle. You pulled away with ferocity, landing on the other side of the bed. Scrambling, you grabbed your bag. Tony’s arm came around you, pulling you back.

“Tony!” you cried out, your voice cracking. “Please stop!”

There was a sharp knock at the door and the two of you froze. Tony swore underneath his breath and let you go, causing you to stumble because you had been relying on him.

He snatched up his briefs and threw them on before storming towards the door as another knock came.

He opened the door a crack and sighed frustrated, “What?”

You heard Happy, “Uh, I was coming to get Y/N… it’s time to take her back? I went to bed super early so I would be ready to take her back now?”

You were relieved to hear someone with sense.

“Fuck!” Tony snapped, tossing the door open and you squeaked, still naked. You rushed towards the hall to grab your sweats and sweater out and throw those on.

When you emerged again, Happy was waiting by the door and Tony was necking the bottle of bourbon he had bought. He slammed it back down on the counter and glared at you. You went to go towards him to kiss him goodbye to try to start to smooth things over, but he held up his hand forcibly and you stopped. He took another swig without looking at you.

Hurt, you turned towards Happy, who was looking at Tony with scrutiny as well before following you out the door. You fell asleep on the car ride home and when you arrived back at your place, Tony still had not texted you.

<><><>

Clutching your duffel bag, you climbed the stairs a week later to your apartment. Tony had been clipped in his responses since Happy had taken you home. You were growing simultaneously frustrated and nervous with possessive, aggressive behavior.

Upon walking in, you saw the living room was upturned. Your blood chilled and you immediately dropped your bag, going for the switchblade in your front pocket of it. It was out as you grabbed your cell phone out of your bag.

Just as you were about to dial 911, Tony emerged from the hallway, holding up his hand. “Darling, it’s just me.”

Dropping the hand with your phone, you demanded, “’Just you’? What are you doing?”

Tony shrugged, “What I needed to do.”

You did not like the way that sounded at all. And then you noticed all the blood on his hands and on the wetness on his black jacket, which was no doubt more blood. Your hand clutched your switchblade tighter. Tony’s eyes dropped to it, and he looked back up at you.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need for that. It’s just me.”

“’Just you’? Where’s Michael?”

Tony rolled his eyes, annoyed. He turned his back and walked towards the kitchen. He flipped the switch on in there as he moved towards the sink. You moved to follow him and upon seeing more of the kitchen, you saw Carol and Rhodes were sitting at the table, having a drink.

“Where’s Michael?” you repeated.

Washing his hands in the sink now, without a care for the blood splattering, Tony told you, “I could have used a gun, but this was personal.”

The horror of what he was admitting without outright saying it was washing down on you. Your hand wavered, threatening to drop your switchblade.

“You…you…” you stammered; your chest was tight.

Tony continued rinsing the blood off of his hands, unbothered. He finished as you stood there frozen by your shock. Shaking his hands off, he wiped them on his black jeans and turned back to face you. As soon as he started to come close, you regained sense of self and your hand gripped tighter on your blade again.

Tony was not having any of that. He was quick and gripped your wrist tightly, twisting it so you cried out, dropping the blade. He held you up to the wall by your throat.

His word was law sinking around you, “No more excuses, Y/N. You’re all mine now.”

~~~

Song list to set the mood for me while writing:

Was Ich Liebe -- Rammstein Walk -- Pantera Problem -- Natalia Kills Inertia Creeps -- Massive Attack Dissolved Girl -- Massive Attack Just For Me -- Saint Jhn feat. Sza

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx

[sofreddie]

What Went Wrong?

Summary: Dean tries to propose but a misunderstanding ruins everything.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Angst, Drinking, Fluff

Word Count: 1,680

A/N: This sat in my WIPs forever until I finally found inspiration to complete it.

Sam followed the sounds of the loud blues music bouncing off the walls of the Bunker. His ears carried him to Dean’s room. He opened the door, the music hitting him full on like a gust of wind to the face. Sam blinked rapidly from the sound, cringing slightly at the overwhelming scent of liquor and body odor.

Dean was stood in his room between the dresser and bed, a crystal glass in one hand, as he danced and sang along. Sam walked into the room, looking around. The room was trashed. There were several empty bottles lying around on the dresser and nightstand, a half-full bottle uncapped on the dresser.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, tapping his brother on the shoulder. Dean jumped and turned, smiling when he saw Sam. He turned down the music and spun animatedly to face Sam once more, laughing to himself.

“Sssaaammm!” Dean slurred in excitement. He finished the last swig of his glass, letting out a loud exhale.

“Are you drunk?” Sam asked concerned. Dean rarely drank anymore, not since he and Y/N got together a year before.

“Pretty much.” Dean agreed, nodding his head with a pout as he focused on refilling his glass. “Hey, you -you wanna join me?” Dean’s face perked up with excitement as he began stumbling in circles, looking for another glass. Sam flashed an unseen bitch face as he reached for the bottle. Dean stopped, putting his hands out to steady himself, clearly dizzy.

“Dean, what happened?” Sam was deeply worried.

“Nothing!” Dean laughed. “Can’t a guy just have a drink?”

“Dean,” Sam let out a sigh, trying to choose his words carefully. “I thought you and Y/N had plans tonight?”

“Oh,” Dean said as if he were surprised at the chosen topic. “Oh, that!” He said, nodding and pursing his lips. “It didn’t really go…as planned,” Dean muttered, downing the contents of his glass. He examined the glass in his hand before pointing it towards Sam. “I fucked it up. Like I fuck everything up.” He calmly stated, nodding emphatically to himself as he placed his glass on the dresser. He leaned against its edge, taking some of the weight off his feet.

“How is that even possible?” Sam whimpered, his heartbreaking for his brother. He was sure, whatever happened, Dean was just being hard on himself. He wanted this so much for him, for them. “Where is Y/N?”

Dean shook his head, wiping a tear, as he shook several bottles, looking for liquid relief. He looked at Sam, still holding the bottle and reached out to him.

“Gimme the bottle.” Dean wiggled his fingers, clearly drunk and exhausted, barely on his feet.

“No, Dean.” Sam stood his ground. “What happened?”

Dean turned towards Sam, offended, and reached for the bottle. Sam pulled it away, holding it back and high in the air.

“Give me the damn bottle, Sam!” Dean growled, growing angry.

“No, Dean, no.” Sam struggled as Dean was trying to grab and pull at his arm to reach the bottle. Sam quickly grew tired of the game, throwing the bottle over Dean’s head, where it met the wall and shattered, it’s contents dripping down the wall and to the floor. Dean watched as the puddle grew on the floor. He growled, turning on Sam once more.

“What did you do that for?!” Dean roared, advancing towards Sam. Sam put his hands in front of him defensively, taking a few steps back from his looming brother.

“Dean, what happened? Dean-” Sam was cut off as Dean shoved him, Sam stumbling back a step. Sam growled, gaining his footing and squaring his shoulders, glaring at Dean.

“It’s none of your business what happened,” Dean screamed. “I fucked up, she left, and I’m just gonna sit here and drink.” He threw his arms up in the air and let them fall dramatically to his sides. “I’m gonna go pass out.” He said, suddenly lightheaded.

Sam rushed down the hall, pulling out his cell phone to call Y/N. He tried calling several times and sent a few texts, but she didn’t respond. He opened the tracking app on his phone and looked up her GPS, quickly finding her coordinates. He ran to the kitchen, grabbing Dean’s keys from the table and taking off to her location.

Y/N eyed the bus station in the distance, only another block and she’d be there. Her feet were sore, she was exhausted, and her face stung with dried tears and dirt. She adjusted the strap of her duffel over her chest as she forced her legs to carry her forward.

Her heart leaped into her chest at the all too familiar sound of the Impala’s engine approaching. She stopped and turned to see the car approaching, the headlights blaring in the night.

The car pulled up, parking right next to her, the driver’s door opening as soon as it was in park. Y/N’s sudden elation dropped like a stone off a cliff when she saw Sam.

As he rounded the hood of the car, he could see the fallen look cross over her. She looked as bad as Dean, her eyes red, tear tracks stained on her face with dust from the road.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, approaching her and checking her over. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok.” She whispered, looking to the ground. “Where’s Dean?” She asked, tears brimming in her eyes once more. Her lip quivered and Sam’s heart shattered. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. He rested his cheek firmly against the top of her head. As her sobs poured forth, soaking his shirt, he held her tighter, worried she might crumble if he didn’t hold her together.

“He’s at home. He’s drunk.” Sam gave her a final squeeze before pulling back and looking at her, his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “He won’t tell me what happened.”

“I fucked up.” She choked out. “I fucked it all up.”

Sam was growing increasingly frustrated. Dean had a perfect night planned. Sam had helped him plan it for over a month.

What went wrong?

“He says he fucked it up,” Sam smirked at her, trying to lighten the mood. She rolled her eyes, wiping her face and leaning against the Impala.

“No, he didn’t.” She sighed. “I just…I don’t know…”

“Tell me what happened.” Sam pleaded, leaning against the impala beside her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"We had a great night and we were both a little drunk. Then out of nowhere he proposes. That would've been enough to catch me off guard, you know? Dean…marriage?"

"He's been thinking about it a long time, Y/N."

"He was so formal and traditional. He got down on one knee. It was so romantic, truly!" she insisted, "But I was prone to giggles that night and I just bust out laughing," she sighed with a hand over her eyes as she relived the experience.

"I wasn't laughing at him, but he thought I was. Then it just blew up into this huge fight of him insisting I could've just said 'no' and me insisting I didn't mean it the way he took it, but he wouldn't let me talk."

She started sobbing again and Sam held her close. These two. He rolled his eyes, unseen by her as she was tucked under his chin.

"You're both blaming yourselves. I think maybe it was a really emotional moment and you both sort of fumbled through it," he chuckled.

"The whole thing was so romantic and sweet," she sniffled into Sam's chest, "I ruined everything."

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, pulling away from her to look her in the eye, "What would your answer have been?"

She stared at him in silence for what seemed like forever before smirking and wiping at her face, "Take me home, Sam."

Y/N slowly opened their bedroom door. The room was dark and she could hear Dean's drunken snores as he slept. She smiled but stifled a giggle.

'Cause that's what's started this whole fucking thing, she chastised herself.

She crept into the room, closing the door behind her. She was familiar with the layout and made her way to the desk, flicking on the lamp and providing dim illumination.

She turned towards the bed and covered her mouth with a hand when she looked at Dean. He melted her heart. He was face down on the bed, on top of the covers, one arm slung uncomfortably backwards across his back.

"De-" she lightly spoke, still several feet from him.

She had learned long ago to be careful when waking Dean. Sometimes it could take him a while to realize where he was and what was going on. She hated the guilt he would assign himself if he did something to her while in that disoriented state.

"De-" she spoke a little louder, "Baby, wake up."

Dean snorted awake, rubbing at his eyes and groaning at his head. He focused towards Y/N and it took him a minute to realize it was her.

"Y/N?" he sat up straighter, "You came back?"

"Sam got me," she explained, stepping closer to him now that he was alert. She slowly sat on the bed next to him. His lack of any movement or reaction told her how guarded he was at that moment.

"I am so sorry for everything that happened," she said, starting to tear up, "I just wanted you to know that I wanted to say yes. Want." she corrected with a shake of her head.

Dean's walls crumbled down as his bright smile broke through.

"Really?" he breathed out, bringing her closer to him.

"I would be honored to be your wife. Yours forever, De."

He captured her lips with his, laying back on the bed and tugging her on top of him. She giggled into the kiss and he smiled back.

"Yours forever," he agreed, rolling her onto her back, so glad to have her back in her rightful place -at his side and in his arms.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

[voidaus]

Slow Dancing In The Dark

Part 4 of the Grocery Shop series

Genre: Fluff?

Warnings: Swearing

Requested? Kind of

Word count: 1347

Here goes nothing.

You walk up to the apartments and look for his address. It's not that hard to find, seeing as the place isn't that big. Although you were kinda hoping it would take you a little longer, so you can calm your nerves, you're glad because you finally get to see him again. Standing in front of the door, you adjust your shirt. It is pretty warm out, which isn't weird, considering where you are, but that spikes your heart rate even more.

A soft knocking rings through Corpse's ears. He probably wouldn't have heard it if he wouldn't be waiting for it. He wipes his palms on his trousers before opening the door. For the first time in a month, he sees you again, and a blush creeps onto his face. 

You're wearing a casual white T-shirt and some shorts, all very simple, but it fits you amazingly in his eyes.

You two look at each other for a few seconds, a smile on your face. Corpse then takes the initiative and wraps you in a hug. You hold each other tightly. With your head on his chest, you can hear his heartbeat fast. "Hi." One of you spoke up after a while. You are both too tired to realize who said it.

You finally let go and look him in the eyes. Well, the one eye that wasn't covered by his mask. The hazel-brown color gives off a happy vibe as it twinkles. "It's good to see you again." That deep voice you have grown used to speaks up. You smile, "Yeah. I've missed you." Both of you are so sleep-deprived at the moment and no one seems to bother filtering their words. 

Corpse opens the door a little wider, allowing you to walk inside. You give him a quick smile and take off your shoes. "You want something to drink?" he asks. "Sure! Just water please."

Corpse had already walked ahead, to what you assume is the kitchen. The clinking of glass sounds as you wander in his direction. The dark-haired man turns around and gives you your glass. 

It's a little awkward at first, considering this is the second time you guys meet, but shortly after you get a little looser and more comfortable with each other. You are now lying on his couch with hot chocolate in your hands. Corpse is sitting in front of you with his guitar in his hands. After you found out he owns one, you had practically begged him to play something. 

So here you are now, wrapped in a blanket, a hot drink, and Corpse playing some songs. He had already played stuff like All of me, and A-team, to which you happily sang along. You are in the middle of listening to him play Say you won't let go when the music suddenly stops. Immediately zoning back in you look at him, confused. "Hold on, let me just-" He cuts himself off as he grabs his phone from the table. 

"Whatcha doing, bub?" You ask, still a bit sad he's not playing anymore. His style was amazing to listen to, you loved it. He puts his phone back down and just looks you straight in the eyes again, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Corpseeee?" You ask, stretching out the e. "Yeeeeesss?" He asks pulling the same trick on you. "What did you do?"

"I Uhmm... I ordered fries and chicken nuggets from MacDonalds..." He answers, sounding like a child that did something wrong. "Are you kidding me?" He's about to apologize to you when you beat him to talking "I fucking love you, dude!" 

Relief washes over him. He sighs and slumps back into his chair, but not before hitting your arm "I thought you were mad at me! Don't ever look at me that way again!" You start laughing and soon enough Corpse joins in. 

"Did I ever tell you, I love your laugh?" You ask him, now serious again. "I'm pretty sure you did. Like a million times."

"well, I do. It's so nice to listen to!" You rest your head on your hand and look at him in amazement. "It's like, you have your voice, and it sounds all deep and cool and intimidating, and then your laugh is so adorable and cute!" Not noticing that you're rambling, you keep talking about him for a while. Corpse just sits there and listens to your voice. He almost falls asleep, seeing as it's almost 5 AM when the doorbell rings. "CHICKEN NUGGETS!!" you suddenly scream, scaring him awake. "Dear God, Y/N WHY?" You laugh it off as he goes to the door.

**Small time skip brought to you by The Gongoozler (You wouldn't get it)**

“Listen, we have to move on. The past is in the past Y/N. What we have now is everything!” Corpse said, trying to keep a serious face.

 “Apologise for eating my chicken nuggets you little shit!” You dryly said. This only made him burst into laughter for the hundredth time this night.

“Oh, god, you’ve insulted me! Whatever shall I do? I’ll be mentally and emotionally scarred for years!" He said in a horrible ancient accent, which only became worse due to his laughter. A small smile crept onto your face. That quickly turned into you two both laughing your asses off for at least 10 minutes. "Co- Corpse, I can't bre- breath" You attempted to tell him in between wheezing.

After a while, your laughter died down again. Now you were lying on the couch, your head in his lap. He's tracing figures on your arm. It's already 7 in the morning and both of you had quite the night. It tired you out extremely making you fall asleep a few times before quickly waking up again.

"Y/N?" Corpse spoke up in a gentle manner. "Yeah, bubs?" You shift your head so that you're looking up to him.  "Could I- No wait, nevermind, it's dumb."

You sit up and hug his torso. "Hey! Don't say that. I bet it's not, and even if it is, I won't laugh bubba." You pout. "Do you promise not to laugh?" he was greeted with a finger in his face. "Pinky promise!" He stuck out his pinky and wraps it around yours. 'It's amazing how much bigger his hand is!' You think to yourself.

Corpse shifts a bit and you sit back on the couch again. He looks like he's fighting with himself before his eye meets yours. You give him a reassuring smile and Corpse nods. He then reaches for his face. You're confused until you realize he's reaching for his mask. And you were right. Corpse slowly pulls it off and immediately looks down at his lap. You stare at him in awe before gently grabbing his chin and bringing it up with your hand. You could now see both of his eyes. The hazel color springing out by his simple eyeliner. His black hair looks even curlier now. "Corpse..."

His head drops again. "No, no no! That's not what I meant!" you quickly add. Suddenly he feels two warm hands on the sides of his face. His eyes meet yours again and then drop to your warm smile. "Corpse, you are so gorgeous! You are so handsome and incredibly beautiful, and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise!"

A bright smile appears on his face. He wraps you in a hug again, tacking you on the couch. "I love you, Y/N." He whispers in your ear. "I love you too, Corpse."

He gets up after a while and holds out his hand. "Would you care to dance?" you take his hand and stand up too. "Gladly. "

He clicks something on his phone and your favorite song starts playing. You smile and grab his shoulder. You waltz away while Joji plays in the background.

The sun is almost fully up, and birds are chirping outside. And here you are, dancing in his arms. Safe and secure. This is all you could ever ask for.\

The End

Hey guys! I'm so sorry it took me so long! (And that it's such a bad chapter omg) It's just been shit here, my grandpa is sick, my country went into a lockdown again and my mental health is just dead.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter though! If you found any mistakes, please point them out. Also, I love to read your comments/opinions on the story, so keep commenting!  Take care, lovelies :)

For a sequel, send me an ask! I will write one if I have a few of them!

If you liked this, the taglist is open and so are my requests

@persephone-sideblog @reinyrei @cherry-piee @alienvarmint @divine-artemis @milanienne @struggling-with-time @insanedeathwish @134340cm @airwaveee @weirdopoptart @impossiblepersonazipperlawyer @khearts14

[joheun-saram]

otsukare sama deshita (sope)

Summary- Hoseok knows the perfect partner for his new song, but will Yoongi agree?

word count- 1.6k

pairing- Hoseok x Yoongi (platonic)

rating- G

genre- friendship, fluff, slight angst (not really)

warnings- none

a.n- HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN!!! 🥳 I wrote this as a birthday present for @eternalseokjin but in typical mars fashion, i was late. I hope you enjoy my first mxm fic. this is my take on how hobi convinced yoongi to perform with him. when i floated this idea on the net people thought it was gonna be a crack fic, but honestly i think yoongi respects hobi too much to protest a lot lol

A huge shoutout to @hoebii​ and @hobisbeautifulass​ for beta reading this! 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

perm taglist- @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi

-

Hoseok was excited. In fact, he was beyond excited. He had spent the Japanese tour leg writing a song that he felt was the perfect mix of goofy and talent, if he could say so himself. A cheerful, optimistic song that portrayed his J-Hope persona to a T. He knew it wasn’t going to go in any of the albums; he had told his fellow co-writers in Japan as much, but he just knew that ARMY would love it as soon as he unveiled it. The only thing that would make it better would be if he could get a certain friend of his to join in on the antics. A certain grumpy friend that sat across from him zoning out as he sipped his iced Americano, even though it was close to 10pm.

“Hyung, can I run something by you?” Hosoek asked, feigning an air of nonchalance, as he rolled his chair closer to the couch Yoongi was sprawled on. He rested his feet against the cushions, leaning back against the chair, his fingers drumming against the arm rests. He didn’t want to admit it but he was a little nervous. Chances were that Yoongi would agree to his proposition; he was usually very easy going and enjoyed the fanservice that they partook in. However, lately Yoongi had been pretty stressed, short tempered and tired, snapping at everyone. He hadn’t shared why, but Hoseok felt it was something personal that he didn’t want to pry on. 

Hoseok’s voice broke Yoongi out of his thoughts as he looked up to the brightly dressed man in front of him. He mirrored the frown on Hoseok’s face as he hummed for him to continue. Yoongi would never admit it, but he was in no mood for a conversation; his head running through the overwhelmingly long to-do list he had to accomplish before the end of tomorrow. The longer he looked at Hoseok sitting in silence, the deeper his frown got. What was he so fidgety for? It was putting him on edge, not to mention adding to his stress.

“Spit it out, Hobah,” he snapped, sighing a little in frustration as Hoseok cleared his throat tentatively. 

“Well… I wrote this song. I was wondering if you wanted to perform together.” That’s it? Hoseok just wanted to perform a song together? What was the big deal about that?

“Yeah okay. Sure,” Yoongi acquiesced easily, much to Hoseok’s surprise. Hoseok’s face broke into a large grin, one that brought a small smile on the older rapper’s face. 

“Promise?” Hoseok asked, almost bouncing excitedly. Yoongi furrowed his brows suspiciously, knowing that there was no way he was this giddy about a simple duet. Something had to be up.

“You’re making me rethink this…” Yoongi said as he looked over the rim of the plastic coffee cup in his hand, missing his mouth with the straw before capturing it with his lips with a huff and an eye roll. Hoseok chuckled at the action before continuing.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun! I can just imagine ARMY’s excitement! A Sope unit song!” Hoseok radiated enthusiasm, lifting Yoongi’s spirits as well as the corners of his mouth. He really was a ball of energy sometimes, his excitement almost contagious as he never failed to energize Yoongi, even when all he wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep his life away.

“Fine. Let me hear it first,” Yoongi said with a snicker, eager to hear the masterpiece his friend had created. He couldn’t help shaking his head with a smile as Hoseok excitedly stood up, almost hopping to the computer to play the track. Yoongi smiled as the track played, habitually fidgeting with his lip in concentration.

To say it was different than any of the songs Hoseok had penned before was an understatement. Yoongi expected vibrant beats and spunky lyrics like the tracks Hoseok had consulted with him on for his future mixtape but this song was a rollercoaster, a tongue-in-cheek trot song of optimism. He smiled as the track played on, Hoseok’s cheerful vocals a perfect fit for the atmosphere it created. As the chorus played again, Yoongi couldn’t help but sing along to the catchy words under his breath. An action not missed by Hoseok, whose smile only got wider.

As the song came to an end, Yoongi felt his mood lightened, the song already stuck in his head. Hoseok hadn’t written many songs alone before and he felt proud of his friend’s accomplishment. “It’s good. Good job, Hoseok!” Yoongi complimented, a gummy smile on his face.

“Thanks!” Hoseok sang out, his smile quickly replaced by his professional straight face as he continued on with the details of the collaboration, which part Yoongi would sing and the vibe he would add. Yoongi found himself easily agreeing with him. He could do with a fun project, and to be completely honest he was ready to record it as soon as the month was over. However, this thought was brought to a screeching halt as the next words left Hoseok’s lips. 

“So I was thinking we reveal it at the Japan fan meeting.” Yoongi’s eyes widened at the comment. *Was he serious?

“The one in two weeks?” Yoongi’s momentarily forgotten stress was back with full force, and he bit his nail. He had so many things on his plate that adding a song that he would not only have to record, but learn the dance and words to *within the next fortnight made his chest clench uneasily. He always had a hard time saying no to Hoseok but the more he thought about the endless things he had to work through, the easier it became. “Absolutely not.”

“Hyungnim!” Hoseok stretched the syllables cutely in a whine to appeal to his older member. He knew behind all the apathy Yoongi had a soft spot for him and it was not beyond him to use it to his advantage. He jumped from his chair next to Yoongi, an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders as he tried to get him as excited as he was. “The theme to Hwagae Market! We’ll wear cheesy suits and goof around! Come on! It’d be fun!”

Yoongi knew Hoseok was just being his usual self, but he felt slightly suffocated. Shrugging his arm off, Yoongi leaned forward, elbows on knees as he rubbed his face with a groan. He missed the way Hoseok frowned, certain now that something was bothering his friend. Before he could prod for details, Yoongi let out an exasperated sigh.

“I don’t know, Hoseok. Fuck. I’m just so stressed. I don’t know if I can take something else on right now.” Yoongi looked at him, a silent plea hidden in his eyes that made Hoseok’s heart tighten in empathy. He knew all about being overly stressed. It would be a lie to say the life they had chosen was easy and smooth sailing. 

Hoseok always tried to keep a professional distance between his members, not wanting to overwhelm them when they had to spend so much time together by obligation. He always felt he was prying if he asked about their personal lives or struggles, but he also knew that Yoongi never brought up something unless he wanted to share. He just needed a push.

“You wanna talk about it?” Hoseok asked, placing his hand on Yoongi’s knee, trying to coax the rapper into conversation.

“I don’t know…” Yoongi began, but it didn’t take him long to delve into his problems. There was something about Hoseok that always led him to open up without feeling the guilt he sometimes did when sharing his feelings. Although Hoseok was usually loud and energetic, when prompted he was quiet and a great listener. Just looking at his face stoic in concentration made Yoongi feel as if what he was saying truly mattered, regardless if it was a useless rant about work stress that Hoseok himself had. 

It was close to midnight by the time the two had wrapped up their heart to heart, empty beer bottles and half eaten dishes of sundae and tteokbokki cluttering the coffee table in front of them. Hoseok hadn’t expected Yoongi to open up to him the way he did, but he was glad to shoulder his burden with him. There was a reason he was closest with the introverted producer in the group; he seemed to make everything Hoseok said seem important, like it had substance, be it a stupid joke that Yoongi laughed at the loudest, or advice that he could’ve gotten off an Instagram inspiration page. 

By the time they packed to make their way to the dorms, Hoseok felt almost bad for adding to Yoongi’s work load, but the dark haired man would have none of it.

“Nah, Hobi. We’re doing it,” Yoongi said, his voice stern and determined.

“Are you sure?” Hoseok asked, as he climbed into the passenger seat of Yoongi’s car, stuffing his backpack between his legs before strapping on his seatbelt. “It was a random idea. We don’t have to. I can table this song for next year.”

“No. It will be fun. ARMY will love it,” Yoongi replied, placing an arm on the back of Hoseok’s headrest as he turned to reverse out of the parking space, before driving out of the underground lot. “It’s a really good song, Hobi. Proud of you, man.”

Hoseok couldn’t help but chuckle at the earnest praise, feeling instantly shy. He was right though, he realized as he walked off the stage two weeks later, high on adrenaline with a huge grin on his face. His expression was mirrored on Yoongi’s face who clapped him on the back, panting hard.

“Sope des!” Yoongi joked, still laughing at how great the performance went, taking off the shiny sequined coat.

“Sope des!” echoed the rest of the boys cheerfully before rushing towards the stage, as Hoseok laughed putting on the jacket for the next performance.

-

Like this? Check out my other works.

[crystalirises]

Na Tinuruan Mo ang Puso Ko na Umibig na Tunay (That You Really had Taught My Heart How to Truly Fall in Love)

wawawawawawa finally wrote this!

Just a note, this is a songfic and the song used is originally sang in Filipino. The bold italicized texts are the original lyrics while the italicized lyrics within dialogue is the English translation. Also note, I did use English lyrics from a website so I want this to be clear, the English lyrics are different from the original a bit so... Even though you can't understand the song, if you want to, you can try to listen to the original song (which is in Filipino) Anyway, bye bye.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/79904587

‘Kamukha mo si Paraluman

Nu'ng tayo ay bata pa

At ang galing-galing mong sumayaw

Mapa-Boogie man o Cha-Cha’

“You looked just like Paraluman, when were kids before…” He glanced up at Fundy, his hands fidgeting against the diner table in front of him. Their song was playing in the background, memories of their youth racing through his mind. The fox hybrid glared at him from the other side of the table, arms crossed in front of his chest and with bags underneath his eyes. He didn’t know what had come over him, honestly. Meeting up with his… ex-boyfriend? Well, here they were now. In a rundown diner in the middle of the nothing-town that they both had grown up in. Both washed-up losers. “And you danced so beautifully, whether it’s Boogie or a Cha-cha.”

“You came all this way… All this way, Dream… just for that to be your first words?”

“I’m just trying to reminisce, sta一 Funds. No need to be so aggressive, it wasn’t as if you were planning on saying anything anyway.” He huffed, adjusting his hands until they were hidden inside the pockets of his sweater. Fundy’s eyes had narrowed into thin slits, no doubt at Dream’s accidental slip of an old nickname. He wasn’t sure why he still remembered it. That was such a long time ago. Both of them were practically stupid teenagers when he had dubbed his then-boyfriend with the nickname star. He didn’t even remember why he’d called Fundy that. He leaned his head against the seat, wincing at the loud groans and squeaks of the springs beneath him. Gods, he’d always hated this place. “I don’t know what to say, okay? Then that song started to play and I just said what came to mind… Look, just… let me remember who we were, okay?”

‘Ngunit ang paborito

Ay pagsayaw mo ng El Bimbo

Nakakaindak, nakakaaliw

Nakakatindig-balahibo’

He smiled, nodding along as though that was answer enough for himself. “I think my favorite was when you danced to the El Bimbo.” He glanced around the diner, glad to find that there was no one there, except for the waitress by the counter who was throwing him weird glances. He thinks he knows her, from long ago. Perhaps in high school, a familiar face who looked on at him with pity that made him want to run out of there. Still, Fundy was right in front of him, waiting for him to get to the point. “It makes me shiver, it’s like a show. It makes my hair go straight.”

‘He remembers the first time he’d seen Fundy. It had been a passing moment, a flicker of a lifetime. Yet he had paused that day, eyes drawn to the dancer upon that empty stage of their local school theater. He had disappeared into the room to escape the crowd of high school, needing a moment for himself, and that was when he looked up and saw him. A boy his age, dancing across the stage to a song that he couldn’t quite remember anymore. Fundy had never once looked his way, too enthralled in his steps and in the music to pay attention to a rowdy jock like him. He had stayed until the end, mouth hanging open in shock. His hand had made its way to his chest, his heart racing madly that he had feared it would explode. He was enraptured.’

“You’re lucky I didn’t look up that day. Imagine… being stared up by a creep!”

“I was not一 I was not being a creep.”

“You’re just lucky you’re cute.”

‘Pagkagaling sa 'skwela

Ay didiretso na sa inyo

At buong maghapon ay tinuturuan mo ako’

“After my classes were dismissed I went into your house.” Dream chuckled, shaking his head at the thought. The amount of minutes he’d spent climbing up the tree so he could scale the branch to enter Fundy’s room. He nearly once since Fundy had decided to scare him. Dream had been quick to grab onto the windowsill. “And for the whole afternoon, you taught me how to dance.”

“Gods… you fucking prick, do you know how many times my dad nearly caught you?” Fundy reached across the table, lightly smacking Dream’s hand. “He would have skinned you alive!”

“That’s why I’m still alive today, babe. Your old man’s too slow to catch me.”

‘Magkahawak ang ating kamay

At walang kamalay-malay

Na tinuruan mo ang puso ko

Na umibig na tunay’

“As we held our hands together, I had no doubt in my mind…” He remembered those long hot afternoon days, where they would dance to the beat of whatever song came on the record, their hands clasped together so gently. “That you really had taught my heart how to truly fall in love.”

‘He remembers climbing into Fundy’s window, nearly tripping against the bright orange carpet that decorated his boyfriend’s whole bedroom. They were both alone in the house, Fundy’s family being out due to a family outing that Fundy had weaseled his way out of. When he managed to get in, Fundy was already waiting for him, the radio opened to an old song that neither of them really knew the lyrics to. Fundy had smiled at him, reaching to pull him closer. Despite what people might say, when it came to dancing, Fundy always took the lead. He always did. Dream was never allowed to take the lead because dancing was Fundy’s niche and Dream was just a beginner. That one afternoon day, Fundy held his hands in his. But unlike the other times, he had a whole other plan in mind. Dream could only blink back his shock when Fundy slowly leaned in, their lips touching. It was quick, but it was enough to pull Dream in for more. So, he leaned in.’

“Our first kiss.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m surprised you still remember… Then again, I’m also not surprised.”

‘Naninigas ang aking katawan

'Pag umikot na ang plaka

Patay sa kembot ng beywang mo

At pungay ng 'yong mga mata’

“My body starts to harden when the record starts to spin.” His breath would quicken with each step they took within their dance. In that small bedroom, it felt like the whole world just melted away. Dream glanced up, smiling shyly when he caught Fundy’s eyes. He always found them to be mesmerizing, liking the way how gold seemed to glitter in them each time the sun illuminated Fundy’s whole body. “I love when your hips start to shake, as well as the sight of your eyes.”

“I do have great eyes. You loved that about me. You always spent too long staring into them like it would be your last chance to do so. Dream, you do know my eyes were just brown, right? I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about. Golden flecks? You’re too much of a romantic for your own good. Then… I always liked that about you, seeing that other side of you, the other side to the smug jock that people fawned over that it was personally nauseating to watch.” Fundy rolled his eyes from across the counter. Dream nearly jolted when Fundy suddenly stood up, leaning against the booth while he kept his gaze on him. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering despite the warm air of the diner. None of the windows were open. It felt like he was being stripped from the inside out, like Fundy was clawing out every dirty detail that Dream had acquired over the past years of his miserable life. “I… You and me… wow, how did we even—”

“I don’t regret it. You and me. I never once regretted it.” Dream wanted so much to reach out, to clasp a hand on Fundy’s shoulder or even pull him into an embrace. But he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t. He settled deeper into his seat, resting a hand on the back of his neck. “I regret many of my decisions in life. But falling in love with you… was probably the only good choice I ever made. I would never regret falling in love with you, and I hope… you never once regretted falling in love with me. I loved you with all my heart, Fundy. I loved you so much.”

‘Lumiliwanag ang buhay

Habang tayo'y magkaakbay

At dahan-dahang dumudulas

Ang kamay ko sa makinis mong braso, hoo’

“My life just gets brighter while we're holding hands with each other.” Those had been the best moments of his life. Though what they had only lasted for a few years, it was real. Dream thought it was real. During those afternoons where he would come to visit Fundy, he felt like he could leave his troubles at the window. When they danced, it was just them. The world would never know who they were, would never know the dances and talks they shared. No one could judge them, or mock them, or expect more from them. They were just two teens crazy in love with each other. But all good things must come to an end. Dream lowered his gaze, swallowing down the bitterness in his throat. He remembered that night so clearly, remembered the tears they both had cried. “And slowly, I lose my grip when my hand starts to slip on your shoulder.”

‘It had been a rainy night, cliche but Dream didn’t really find it all that funny. High school was over, and it was time they moved on. Fundy had barely even looked at him the entire time, maybe he was terrified of what Dream would do, but Dream was too busy holding back his own tears. Of course he had expected it. He knew it was coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon and so sudden. Fundy had apologized, stating that his family was sending him to a faroff college, one that Dream would never be able to get into no matter how hard he tried. It was officially over.’

“I broke up with you.”

“You did… It hurt. It still does.”

“I know.”

‘Sana noon pa man ay sinabi na sa iyo

Kahit hindi na uso ay ito lang ang alam ko’

“I wish that at that time I had told you what I felt.” Dream wished he’d told him how much he loved him. If he had, then maybe… “Even if it's not popular, this is the only thing that I know—”

“Shut up.” He startled, flinching once he realized that Fundy was moving closer. Dream paused once he realized that Fundy was reaching out a hand towards him. “One last dance, Dream?”

“I’d die to have one last dance, Fundy.” He looked down at Fundy’s hand, glancing at the harshness of his palms. Fundy used to have the softest hands, but the years have changed that. Dream hesitantly placed his hand on Fundy’s, pulling himself off his seat before swaying gently to the music. Fundy held onto his hands, a small content smile on his face. Dream could feel the waitress’ gaze on the back of his head, but there and now, he could have cared less. He wanted this last dance before he went to leave again. He wished he could have more than one last dance.

‘Magkahawak ang ating kamay

At walang kamalay-malay

Na tinuruan mo ang puso ko

Na umibig na tunay’

“As we held our hands together, I had no doubt in my mind…” Dream could feel the tears fall past his cheeks, gasping for air. “That you really had taught my heart how to truly fall in love.”

La la la la, la la, la la, la la la

He held on tightly to Fundy’s hands, wishing for that moment to last forever. They danced together, swaying to the tune of the music. Even if the diner hadn’t been empty, Dream would have danced with Fundy if he’d asked. He would have jumped at the chance to dance with again. The song finished, and Dream collapsed back into his seat. It was their song that was playing.

‘Lumipas ang maraming taon

'Di na tayo nagkita

Balita ko'y may anak ka na

Ngunit walang asawa’

“And many years had passed by, we didn’t see each other anymore.” He started shakily, waking himself. “I heard from somewhere that you have a child… but you don't have a husband.”

‘Taga-hugas ka raw ng pinggan sa may Ermita

At isang gabi'y nasagasaan sa isang madilim na eskinita

Lahat ng pangarap ko'y bigla lang natunaw

Sa panaginip na lang pala kita maisasayaw’

“They said you wash the plates in a place called Ermita, and one day, there was an accident that happened on a very dark alleyway.” His head felt heavy, like a hammer was beating in a nail against the back. Dream rested his head against the cool table. He couldn’t bear to look up again. He couldn’t look up again. For his own sake, he couldn’t. “All my hopes for the future had just started to melt away. I guess my dreams are the only place where I could dance with you again.”

‘Magkahawak ang ating kamay

At walang kamalay-malay

Na tinuruan mo ang puso ko

Na umibig na tunay’

“As we held our hands together, I had no doubt in my mind that you really had taught my heart how to truly fall in love.” Still, Dream would hold onto the memories of them. The kinder times.

‘Magkahawak ang ating kamay

At walang kamalay-malay

Na tinuruan mo ang puso ko

Na umibig na tunay’

As we held our hands together

I had no doubt in my mind

That you really had taught my heart

How to truly fall in love

La la la la, la la, la la, la la la

La la la la, la la, la la, la la la

“He talked about you a lot.”

Dream looked up, the waitress was holding a box of tissues towards him.

“He did?”

“He did.”

Dream reached for the box of tissues, his heart burning with ache.

“I just wish…”

“I understand. I wish he was still here too. He was… He is my best friend.”

The waitress wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

“I… We used to date. It’s stupid but… I miss him.”

“I do too. Yogurt, Fundy’s son, he’s devastated.”

“He’s young, and he’s already lost his dad.”

Dream glanced down at the box of tissues, forcing a smile on his face. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Be good to him, or I will hunt you down and kill you.”

He laughed at that, reaching for one of the tissues. “Thank you, Miss…?”

“Niki. It’s Niki.”

She reached down, patting his shoulder.

She gave him a bittersweet smile.

“Fundy would have… He trusted you. So, be good to Yogurt for him, please.”

“I will.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Killed off Fundy, not feeling good ;-;

Also Yogurt is mentioned but not significant, I'm so sorry Yogurt ;-;

Also rip the imagery of Dream dancing alone in the middle of an empty diner ;-;

[desthesleepdeprivedwriter]

A Winter's Ball

Day 1 of the Fundywastaken week

Hosted by @fundyfiles

Fundy didn’t really like balls.

They always demanded so much energy. How to behave correctly, how to dress, how to look, how much time you have to be there, how to dance, how to eat, and the list goes on and on.

So, when his father told him that they would have a Winter’s Ball hosted at their palace, the only thing Fundy was happy about was that he wouldn’t have the trouble to behave during the trip. And he could steal food from the kitchens without big troubles. Definitely the best outcome.

What didn’t he like about the situation? The ball was only to welcome some far kingdom stupid king and his court. Which means he would have to be placed as some dumb mannequin right beside the rest of the family AND be forced to oblige his younger uncle to behave. Great. So. Fucking. Great.

Fundy did his best to pretend to not be bothered while testing his clothes, but his ears pressed against his head and tail wrapped around his leg really didn’t help his case. His father knew him way too well, so he just sighed and approached his only and annoyed son.

“C’mon, Fundy. Don’t be like that.” Wilbur tried, smiling a little. Fundy just rolled his eyes, now looking up. “Like what? You know I hate balls.” “I know, but you’re a prince! Part of the-” “Part of the great Antarctic Empire. Ok, I know that. It doesn’t mean I have to like this bureaucratic bullshit.”

Wilbur shaked his head, usually the talk wasn’t this bad. “Fundy, what’s wrong this time?”

“....It’s the prince.”

“The prince? You only met him once, Fundy!”

“He was a snobby asshole!”

“He was ten!”

“Imagine now, with 21!” Fundy huffed again, ears perking up and a slight growl in his voice, only getting a weak slap due to his behavior.

“Deal with it, Fundy. You will be the host of the ball, and you supposedly have some royal manners.”

"Fine. But, if he acts like a bitch, I'll bite his face off."

Wilbur ended up smiling with that, huffing his son's orange hair. "You sound just like your mother. She also hated this royal stuff."

"Wasn't she also the one who stole your gold when you were 18?" Fundy poked, knowing that story like the back of his hand.

"My gold and my heart." Wilbur half sang, he had a song written with that exact lyrics.

Fundy pushed his dad away, ending the talk by saying he would do his best, and went back to testing his clothes.

The ball came, and Fundy wished he had run away the day before it.

There he stayed, right beside Tommy and his royal hyperactivity, both of them not wanting to be there, pretending to be some good behaved family.

The northerner king and her court entered the large ball venue, people complimenting them as they passed by. The king was a sheep hybrid, and the people said she used to be king of the pirates before being declared king. Her name was Puffy, and her kids were named Foolish, Dream and Michelle, and, as far as Fundy knew, all adopted.

That's why Fundy didn't even bother to look at them, focusing on his friend Niki talking with Eret, or Tubbo and Jack Manifold quietly snatching food from the table.

Fundy waited for the moment his grandpa, Emperor Philza, went to compliment King Puffy and he quietly left his place, followed by Tommy. Which one went in a different direction, and Fundy was the lucky one to be stopped by Technoblade.

"Where are you going?" He asked, voice low.

"I was bored, and I have a sweet!"

Fundy took out a chocolate treat wrapped in plastic from his pocket, putting it on Technoblade's hand and quickly moving away before he could stop him. "Love ya, Uncle Techno!"

Fundy walked fast, zigzagging around the corridors and halls, finally ending up on a cool and quiet balcony. The stars were shining in the night sky and the snow started to slowly fall. It was pretty, and calm.

Well, at least for a while.

Someone also walked in, and they both stared at each other in surprise. The other man was blond and had green piercing eyes. The bottom half of his face was covered by a white scarf, probably due to the cold.

"Uh… how did you end up here?" Fundy asked, since he was in one of the furthest points from the ballroom.

"I got lost, this place is huge." The boy said, voice muffled by the scarf. He placed himself right besides Fundy, side-eyeing the fox. "Wait, aren't you one of the princes? I saw you there."

"Yeah…" Fundy said, kinda annoyed. "Prince Fundy, not at your service."

This made the boy laugh, and Fundy noticed the reptilian-like pupils dilated a little. This guy was a reptile hybrid, no doubt why he was suffering with the temperature, it must be hard to be cold-blooded.

“Damn, are you always this harsh with people?”

Fundy actually held himself back this time, noticing that he was kinda aggressive with the poor guy. “Sorry, I was just stressed. Balls aren’t my thing.”

“What, you can’t dance?” The guy mocked, leaning towards Fundy.

“I am actually a great dancer, smartass. But there’s this other court here and I’ll have to probably talk with this other prince… He is an idiot.”

“What?” The guy almost looked offended. “Why?”

“He is a snob. I’ve met him before, I was a kid, but I can feel when the vibe is wrong.”

“And….” The guy tried to make his way, nervously hitting the balcony. “Can’t you give him another chance?”

“For that, I’d have to go down to the ballroom, and act like a prince. Won’t do that, I hate to behave.”

“I can see that, you don’t act all prince-y like.”

Fundy scuffed, laughing a little. “If you actually knew what it is like to be part of this family, you’d know it's not that glamorous.” The guy sympathetically nodded, letting Fundy talk. “Dad is so annoying, and he wants me to be the perfect prince. Tommy always get away with his antics, while I just get fucked.”

“Wow, dirty mouth.”

“Wow, boring.”

They stared at each other, a spark of challenge between two boys that apparently never met before.

“Me? Boring?” Fundy nodded, taking out another sweet from his pocket and eating without ceremony. “I can prove I’m not.”

Fundy raised an eyebrow, curiosity being his fatal flaw. “I’ll bite it, how?”

The other man fixed his clothes and stole the rest of the threat Fundy left on the balcony taking out the scarff just to eat the chocolate.. “Dance with me, I can prove balls aren’t that bad.”

For once, Fundy hesitated.

It was a guy he never met before, but now he was staring at mischievous and challenging green eyes and a smirk that made him feel something. His breath condensed in the cold air almost as smoke. A dragon hybrid, where he met a dragon before?

“C’mon, Fundy… The fox doesn’t bite?” And there it was, the last push. Fundy should think before going into this stuff.

But it was too late to think, Fundy taking the hand offered by the mysterious guy and feeling only the heat of a challenge.

“Bet accepted.”

And now, Fundy was in the middle of the dance.

The guy pulled Fundy close, taking the lead of the dance, and they spinned around the floor, in the middle of other people. Fundy could see Niki surprisingly staring at him, Tommy saying something behind his back, and his uncle Techno eating a threat like the one Fundy bribed him with. But his focus was in his moves, eager to prove that he was a great dancer.

He stole the control of the dance in the middle of a spin, and, for a moment, he saw the dragon slightly blushing, but he kept dancing.

The control shifted, and shifted, and they lost count. Both were in charge of the dance. It was funny, and Fundy was actually enjoying himself for once. Songs passed one after the other, and they kept enjoying themselves.

Fundy only stopped after seeing his grandfather approaching, right besides the northerner king. Fundy and the guy stopped dancing, making a small reverence to the two monarchs.

“Oh, I’m glad to see you two are getting along!” King Puffy said, a relieved smile on her face just to match the surprise on Philza’s. “I was worried that I’d have to, hm, calm down some conflict.”

Fundy was confused, or at least he wanted to be, because the reveal of what was going on already happened in his brain,and he didn’t want to acknowledge that.

“Don’t worry, dad, me and Prince Fundy got along just fine.” The guy said, and Fundy ignored the fact he knew his name. No. It couldn’t be him.

“Great, Dream. I’m going to need you to come with me. Can you?” She asked, in a really sweet tone.

“Okay, let me just end this talk with Fundy.”

Both the Antarctic Emperor and the northerner King nodded and walked away, Philza still looking back to Fundy.

“Well, I have to go.”

Prince Dream held Fundy’s hand, planting a kiss on the back of it. “I hope I didn’t bore you”. The dragon hybrid smirked one last time to Fundy and left, disappearing between the crowd.

Behind, only a flustered prince with a fast beating heart, convinced of how much of a prick that stupidly beautiful northerner prince was.

[red-dead-daydreams]

Here is a Sean MacGuire and Male Reader fanfic that is a commission for @cowpokecorner and I got permission to share :) Commissions are opened and if you’re interested just message me for prices!

Sean MacGuire and Male Reader Fanfic: Sean’s welcome back party 

Summary: Sean has returned from Blackwater with the help of Arthur, Javier, Charles and Josiah so the gang decided to celebrate the night away on his return. But you just wished Sean would celebrate a little more with you

Rating: Explicit

           It felt like years from the last time you saw Sean. You couldn’t even fully remember what happened in Blackwater, everything seemed like a blur. Spending that week up in the mountains was rough on you and everyone else. It was rough for you because you didn’t know if Sean was alive or not. It led to sleepless nights or nightmare filled ones. You vividly remember Dutch’s sad eyes when he told you they left without Sean. He knew you two were a couple and he knew the news wouldn’t be easy on you. You sobbed your eyes out that night. The girls gave you endless hugs and comforting statements but you still felt empty inside. You spent that week to yourself mostly, freezing in a crappy cabin. You imagined how Sean would hold you close for warmth or how he’d drink so much his body would be a walking heater and you’d cling to him. 

When you overheard Arthur and Dutch talking about how they spotted Sean in Blackwater, you felt your heart skip a beat. He was alive. Before Arthur left to meet up his Javier, Charles and Josiah, you grabbed onto his arm with tears in your eyes.

“Please bring Sean home to me.. to us”

Arthur said he wasn’t going to leave until Sean escaped with them and that made you smile. But as soon as he left you felt a rock in your stomach. It felt heavy and you nervously paced back and forth for hours due to how restless you became. Hours felt like months to you as you waited for his return. It wasn’t til sunset til you heard those three ride back into camp with Sean. Your eyes spilled like a broken faucet as soon as you saw him. He jumped off the horse as you ran into his arms, tackling him onto the ground.  He let out a laugh and squeezed you so tightly it took some air out of you.

“The king has returned! And he found his love!” He announced and everyone cheered. You pulled back from the hug and grabbed his face, giving him the most passionate kiss.

“You idiot you had me worried sick!” You said through some laughter, the hot tears still pouring down your cheeks. 

Dutch announced that the gang could celebrate his return with a party tonight which excited you. Everyone brought out crates of beer and whiskey and Javier brought out his guitar for some songs. Sean made his little speech before the party began and you cheered happily for him. He walked over to the table Javier and other camp members were sitting at and requested a song. They sang happily but your attention was caught when Dutch began playing a song on his record player. You saw him pull Molly into a dance as Mary-Beth watched. You stood beside her and she greeted you with a sweet smile.

“I’m so glad Sean is back. I knew you were so upset when we lost him for a bit” she rested her hand against your arm before patting it gently. She saw Arthur walk by and asked for a dance, which he agreed to. You wanted to ask Sean for one but he seemed very engulfed with celebrating with the other camp members. You let out a small sigh and walked off. You wanted Sean to celebrate with the others, you just hoped he’d spend a little more time with you. As the night went on, you went to the edge of the camp, sitting down off the cliff and let your legs dangle over it. You listened to the loud music and swayed a little, humming under your breath as you tossed nearby pebbles over the cliff. You weren’t sure how many minutes passed by when you heard some leaves crunch nearby which made you turn around. You saw Sean stumbling around with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. 

“My love! I’ve been lookin’ all over for ya!” He grinned. You stood up and walked towards him, not wanting him to stumble near the edge of the cliff. You gave him slight puppy eyes which made his eyes widen slightly in confusion. “W-What’s a matter?” 

You sighed and lightly grabbed onto his shirt, glancing down. “I was just hoping we’d spend more time together tonight. I really missed you”. Sean took another swig of his now empty bottle and tossed it onto the grass. 

“The night is still goin’ my precious king and I’m gonna show you how much I missed ya!” He pulled you into a passionate kiss which surprised you. His mouth tasted like a whiskey bottle with a hint of sweetness but a lot of bitterness. If you didn’t know any better, you would've thought you were kissing the bottle itself. He broke the kiss for a moment and you caught a glimpse of how flushed his cheeks were. You broke out into a small smile and huffed, gently pushing his chest.

“You know, a kiss isn’t going to make up for it” You grinned. He grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you closer to him before walking back towards camp.

“Well I guess I’ll have to kiss ya some more” He laughed, walking into a tent. You had no idea who’s tent it was, but the lucky bastard had a bed so it was probably one of the more active gang members. That thought quickly flew out of your head when Sean closed the makeshift door (a heavy curtain) to the tent. Thankful a small lantern was on because most of the space was dark. Sean stumbled over to you and crashed his lips against yours which made you release a small moan against his lips. He held onto your waist for balance as he pressed his body against yours. You suddenly felt more body weight against you which made you chuckle against his lips before pulling away. 

“How about we lay on the bed?” You said through a smile, grabbing his hand and leading him to the small slightly elevated bed. He pushed you down against it and climbed on top of you, drunkenly trying to unbutton your shirt. You helped him after a bit and once the shirt slipped off, he let out a whistle. 

“You’re still as handsome as ever!” He grinned before kissing you once more, this time his tongue slipped into your mouth which made you taste all the bitter whiskey he was gulping down throughout the night. His hands began to roam over your chest, feeling it as if he had never done it before. You tugged on his shirt which made him lean back from you so he could pull it over his head and slip it off. Suddenly, an idea came to mind. You grabbed onto Sean and traded positions so you were the one on top of him. You eagerly slipped off his pants and undergarment which pooled at his ankles. His cock had already gotten hard which made things easier. 

“What are you doin’?”. You gave him an innocent smile before leaning down to kiss the slightly wet tip on his shaft, causing him to shiver for a moment. 

“Just welcoming you back” You said innocently before wrapping your hand around his shaft, pumping it as you looked up at him. He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, letting out a loud groan. You opened your mouth and slowly moved down to take his size in. You felt the tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to hold back a small gag. You closed your eyes and began moving your head up and down, squeezing the part of his shaft that couldn’t fit into your mouth. Your tongue brushed up against a vein that was near the tip which made him let out a loud moan. You felt proud each time he moaned since you were obviously doing something right. You began to move your head faster, feeling a sudden wetness hit the back of your throat. He began to leak his pre cum into the back of your throat, which made you pull your head back from his cock with a vulgar pop sound. He let out a disappointed groan as he felt the warmth suddenly leave him. 

“Why’d ya stop?” He whined, seeming out of breath. You crawled onto his lap and hummed under your breath, your finger trailing down his chest.

“I have something even better for you darlin’” You grabbed a hold of his cock and leaned down, pressing the tip against your entrance. You bit your lip a little and began to let the tip slip inside of you. Thankfully the blowjob gave his cock enough lubrication for you. You sat down on his lap, taking in every inch he had to offer. You let out a pleased moan before rolling your hips, looking down at him with lustful eyes. Sean met your eyes and then glanced down at your crotch, noticing how hard you were as well. 

“Look what we have here” He said with a grin, grabbing a hold of your erection and beginning to stroke it. You bit your lip even harder, trying not to let out a loud moan. But once he gave your shaft a tight squeeze you threw your head back and whimpered, picking up the pace on his lap. Your hips jerked forward slightly at all the pleasure that was waving through your body. From feeling how full you were to how he touched you with some roughness. It was a wonderful feeling of ecstasy that built up in you along with the pooling feeling in your stomach of your soon to be orgasm. 

“Oh fuck, Sean I missed you so much” You said through a line of soft whimpers, rolling your hips a little faster as your build up became more noticeable. 

“I missed you more ya handsome bastard” He continued his hand work as you began to spill that clear substance across his fingers, which made it easier to stroke your shaft faster. You squeezed your eyes shut, crying out pieces of a sentence trying to tell him you were near your peak. And he must have been as well since you felt the strong twitching inside of you. Once you reached your peak, you cried out his name, your body trembling slightly from the harsh wave of pleasure. You slumped against his body immediately afterwards, allowing him to finish inside of you. You let out a loud purr, snuggling against his warm chest. You felt a sudden emptiness when he finally pulled out from you, your body relaxing and practically melting in his arms. 

“I told you I’d make up for lost time” Sean sighed, his fingers stroking up and down your back. “I’m like a sex god at this point”. You rolled your eyes and laughed a little, patting his chest.

“Shut up Sean” You giggled, placing a soft kiss on his neck. 

[samstree]

You are too well tangled in my soul (4/5)

In which Geralt tries to apologize, Jaskier has some unexpected encounters and Roach is the best.

(love confession, kaer morhen, 6.1k, no warnings)

read on AO3.

War breaks out.

Nilfgaard mercilessly scorches the continent, and Jaskier survives. The next time he sees Geralt, there’s a lost princess in tow.

The girl has pale blonde hair, just as Jaskier remembers from when he performed at her birthdays. Her green eyes are big and wary, staring at the bard from behind Geralt’s armored bulk.

Jaskier wouldn’t blame her, from what he learned from his encounters with Nilfgaard the girl must have been through hell. And from what he heard about Cintra, well, she has more demons to run from other than the evil army. She looks exhausted too, hair dirty and eyes alert, studying Jaskier intensely.

“You were at my birthday. You sang the songs.” The princess’s crisp voice breaks the silence.

“Yes, Princess Cirilla. I was at three of your birthdays, though you were too young to remember the first two.” he bows. “Jaskier the bard, at your service.”

She softens, nodding at Jaskier’s gesture. Her lips tug upward.

“Just Ciri.”

“Ciri, then.” Jaskier smiles at her.

“I loved your singing. It was beautiful.” she bites her lips, pausing, before putting her arm around the witcher’s. “Geralt only said we were looking for a friend. I didn’t know it was you.”

The mention of the name snaps Jaskier’s attention back to the witcher, who remains motionless and silent. This entire time, Geralt has been staring at Jaskier’s face, like he could blink and the bard would disappear. Jaskier stares back, and the bruise in his chest throbs anew.

“A friend, uh?” he feigns nonchalance and fails, suddenly his throat feeling dry. “Now you use the word, after all these years. Thought you’d keep insisting on not being my friend until the end of time. Thought I gave you life’s blessing –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt exhales. The word is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to stop the bard from landing a blow. The witcher doesn’t seem to have more words, despite continuing to look at Jaskier with remorseful sorrow.

Good. The pettiest part of Jaskier thrills at his regret, after all he’s the one who spewed all the venom on top of that mountain.

But one look at Geralt, Jaskier realized that he is just as tired and disheveled as the girl, if not more so. Being on the run from Nilfgaard is no fun, he learned that from personal experience.

Knowing Geralt, he is going to neglect his needs in favor of Ciri’s, gritting his teeth through everything. Jaskier finds himself searching all over him for injuries, familiar worry bubbling of its own volition.

Jaskier cannot even stay mad at him for long. Damn him.

“Why are you looking for me then?” he asks.

“I –” Geralt pauses. “Nilfgaard is looking for us. Hunting us. They want something, and they are willing to raise armies to chase us across the Continent.”

He tightens his hold on Ciri. The young princess looks away with a haunted expression.

“And they are also trying to hunt down whoever might know your location. They’ll torture them for the information.” Jaskier adds. His two near escapes are too vivid in his mind. The first time he only got away by the skin of his teeth. It turns out he’s not so bad with a dagger when faced with two Nilfgaardian footsoldiers.

As for the second time, he may have had help from an old friend. Not that Yennefer would be thrilled if he ever called her that. The story of his life, he thinks, it seems to be.

Realization dawns in Geralt’s eyes. “You already know they are looking for you. Are you – did they get to you, Jaskier?”

“Get to me? No,” Jaskier chuckles tightly. “I wouldn’t be standing here, would I? Your secrets are safe, Geralt. Not that I knew your whereabouts for the past year. They didn’t get anything from me, if that’s your worry.”

“No. Fuck –” Geralt curses under his breath, frustrated. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Jaskier challenges him, raising an eyebrow. Geralt struggles for words and starts to look like his usual brooding self again. It is Ciri who speaks up.

“Come to Kaer Morhen with us. It’s the safest place on the Continent,” the girl says.

Jaskier breathes, stunned. Of course, it makes sense for them to go. It is a home for Geralt. He remembers the first time Geralt told him about the witcher keep, in that greenhouse, a lifetime ago. To him, it is as much of a myth now as it was back then.

“You are sweet, Ciri. But I don’t think Geralt would want that.”

There’s a bitter tang in those words. Ciri scrunches up her brows, confused. “But he’s the one who wanted –”

“What Ciri meant,” Geralt interrupts, “was that Nilfgaard is still out there looking for us. When they can’t, they’ll come for you again.” Desperation bleeds into his tone. Or is it annoyance? “Come with us, Jask. You’ll be safe in Kaer Morhen.”

“I can take care of myself.” Jaskier’s resolution is swaying despite his pride.

“Jaskier…”

“Geralt.” He stays emotionless, waiting for the Witcher’s reasoning, but it doesn’t come.

It is the lost Cintran princess who decides for Jaskier.

“Can you just come with us?” her voice is uncertain, and it tugs at Jaskier’s heart. “Please?”

Jaskier looks into her green eyes and only sees the loss she endured. The fall of Cintra reached Jaskier like a punch in the gut. He thought Geralt’s Child Surprise – the bright-eyed little girl who danced to his songs – was lost with it, so when those soldiers started questioning him about her escape, Jaskier only felt relief. Now, the lone wolf stands protectively next to the lost lion cub.

Jaskier is glad Geralt went to find her, truly.

He finds himself nodding, and Ciri brightens up ever so slightly.

  “So, you are the boy?”

The dark-haired witcher says upon meeting Jaskier for the first time at the gate of Kaer Morhen when Geralt and Ciri have gone to stable the horse. He’s the same height and build as Geralt, only his shoulders are just a bit wider. Unlike Geralt, his hair is a muddy brown, and three nasty scars run down the right side of his cheek, making him look almost grotesque.

“Pardon?”

“The boy Geralt kept seeing.” His eyes fix on Jaskier with amusement, the golden color eerily identical to Geralt’s.

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone else –” Jaskier is rather surprised that another witcher knows about Geralt’s condition. “Yes, that’s me. But I’m hardly a boy anymore.” He extends a hand. “Jaskier.”

“Eskel.” The Witcher takes it with a friendly smile. Huh, not all of them are broody and rude.

“So you know about our…” Jaskier trails off for lack of a descriptor. Their bond? Their relationship? They certainly are not in one.

“Not much. If you’ve known my brother for this long, you’d know how little he talks.” Eskel offers an understanding pat on Jaskier’s back. “He just came back here one year and couldn’t shut up about an annoying bard. Then he came back another year. Disappeared in the middle of the day, and scared the shit out of us. We’d thought he was cursed out of existence by some angry mage. When he came back, out of thin air too, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost.”

“Not a ghost, only the same bard. As a boy.”

It makes sense, according to however little they know about the mechanism of it. Wintering at the witcher keep is the longest Geralt is away from the bard, so destiny has to drag him to Lettenhove. It would be hard to sail away from your anchor.

“Guess I’m too much of a nuisance. He can’t escape me even here, in his own home.”

“He never –” Eskel seems surprised at Jaskier’s remark. “I might need to have words with my brother, bard. And he was only upset because he worried for your safety.”

He smiles tightly. “It’s kind of you to say, Eskel. Though you don’t need to protect my feelings. I understand now. I would take myself off of his hands if I could.”

Too bad he can’t. Even if the invasion blows over, destiny would still work against Geralt’s attempt at free will at every opportunity.

He ignores Eskel’s inquisitive eyes as they stroll into the stone castle when Geralt and Ciri rejoin them.

  Geralt is trying to apologize.

He knows by the way Geralt follows him outside, and onto the trail behind the keep, somehow with guilt written all over his posture. It’s a nice place for a walk and for Jaskier to clear his head and compose under the pine trees.

Geralt has tried several times in the past few days. Every time they are left alone, the witcher assumes an expectant look on his face and begins to find words. Every time Jaskier interrupts him before it starts, making up whatever poor excuses he can find. Every time Geralt swallows and lets him go. He puts on a stoic face but Jaskier always sees the disappointed droop in those amber eyes that anyone else would have missed.

Jaskier can’t avoid it anymore, between the fresh smell of pine – his favorite scent in the world – and the sky, there’s nowhere to hide, so he stops to face it.

“Just say whatever you want to say,” he lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt blurts out without a beat. “I never should have said what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, Jask. I was upset and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair.”

Jaskier blinks.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“You’ve followed me for twenty years. You’ve known me for even longer. Fuck, Jaskier. Your whole life, you’ve known me, and yet you chose to stay.”

“I did,” he whispers, “but you tried to push me away, like everything else destiny forced upon you.”

The hurt in those golden eyes is unbearable to watch, so Jaskier averts the burn of his gaze to take a deep breath. The smell of pine fills his lungs, crisp and soothing.

“It was a mistake. I know that now, Jaskier.” The contrite is unmistakable. Geralt’s gravelly voice is as pained as Jaskier feels. From the corner of his eyes, Jaskier notices Geralt reach into his pocket for something. It is a small notebook, leather-bound and abused at the edges.

It’s his notebook.

It’s their notebook.

“I’ve kept records of everything, just like you did.” he holds out the book for Jaskier to take. “I’ve seen the future, you –”

“No!” Jaskier steps away as if the book might burn him. “You can’t use it against me, Geralt. You think I’ve never seen the future? I know where we are going. I know I’ll still choose you, because how can I not?” his voice breaks at the possibility of him leaving Geralt by choice. “But it doesn’t make it alright. I can’t just forgive you and pretend we are fine, just because the future says we should be.”

Geralt lowers his hand and the book with it. “I meant that…I understand you now. Why you would stand by me when no one else does, when it’s so much easier to just leave.”

“And how exactly did you arrive at this grand revelation?”

Geralt softens, his lips quick upward ever so slightly. “I saw you. In a little cottage by the sea, years from now, happy.”

Jaskier’s breath hitches. He’s so used to knowing all different versions of Geralt, so used to having the upper hand in this little dance, that the idea of his own future laid out like this makes him queasy.

“You told me – or will tell me, rather – why you spent your entire life choosing me when I’ve done nothing but push you away.” Geralt’s voice breaks at the obvious regret in it.

Because I love you, Jaskier thinks. I’ve loved you for too long.

He’s become so familiar with the notion it’s as easy as breathing.

“What do you want, then?”

“A chance. To prove myself again,” Geralt pleads. “To prove myself a worthy companion to you. Because you are my friend, my best friend. You have been since you were so young and I was just blind to it. Jaskier, I –”

I love you.

“– I choose you too. If you’ll let me show you. For the rest of my life, I’ll prove it to you every day, because I –”

I love you.

“– I love you.”

The words come out soft and reverent, the whisper so careful as if to avoid the birds overhearing him. Geralt stills after the confession, his eyes fixed on Jaskier in earnest.

For a moment Jaskier believes the declaration an echo of his imagination, conjured up from years of longing and heartbreak. But when he holds his breath and looks into Geralt’s resolved eyes, the truth washes over him like a cool shower on an autumn morning.

Deep in those ember eyes is the same affection he’s seen many times, during those too-short visits from his older Geralt, in the teasing smirks he carried at the corner of his mouth, or in the sweetness hidden behind his kiss, under a cold Cintran sky and addled by too much ale. It’s in the way Geralt takes him apart with deft fingers and gentle touches, over and over again throughout the years.

It’s the same love that propelled Geralt to ask for his trust and his faith when this moment comes.

“You love me.” Jaskier muses.

“I do. I have… for a while now.” Geralt’s breath forms in the crisp mountain air. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way, Jask. But please believe me when I say it. I love you. It’s the truest feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. Without any djinn magic, or destiny deciding what’s best. Please, at least have this much faith in me.”

After all this time Geralt still thinks it’s possible for Jaskier to not love him back.

I’m going to make mistakes, the older Geralt once said, don’t lose faith in me.

He made a promise after all.

“Okay,” Jaskeir exhales.

“Okay?”

When he looks into the amber glow again Geralt looks expectant.

“Okay,” Jaskier repeats, “You have it. A chance for us to try again, if you want it to go back to… before.”

Geralt exhales like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “It won’t be like before. I’ll do better, I give you my word.”

The sincerity is palpable in Geralt’s expression. The words come out so solemn and he’s clenched his jaw tightly. It looks like he just might break something if Jaskier doesn’t give him an out.

A smiles tugs at the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. And they say he’s the dramatic one.

“Oh, relax, you big oaf, before you hurt yourself. Of course I believe in you. It might be the most words I’ve ever heard from you. Didn’t think it was possible.”

He pats Geralt on the arm, before resting his hand there and squeezes. If Geralt leans into the touch, he doesn’t mention it.

“You,” Jaskeir continues, “You are forgiven, Geralt. I’ve always known I’d forgive you. You are not the only one who’s seen the future. Even if fate didn’t tell me to, I would still know you to be the best man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I would choose to stay by your side every time.”

The shuddering breath that chokes out Geralt’s throat is almost like a sob. Rumors say witchers can’t cry, but Jaskier learned it not to be true long ago, and he can see how much Geralt is affected right now.

He reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Geralt’s ear before resting his hand on the spill of silver on his shoulder, and revels in the familiar feeling of silky hair against his palm.

“As for the other thing.” Jaskier thinks back on Geralt’s heartfelt confession, not sure if he has truly wrapped his head around it. “I think… I’ll need some time before we can do something about it.”

Geralt nods, his warm hand coming up to capture Jaskier’s wrist in a loose grip, the pad of his thumb stroking slightly again. Jaskier’s chest warms at the motion.

“Take all the time you need, Jask. I’ll be right here.”

  They spend the winter in the keep, in this safe bubble they created.

Ciri’s progress is obvious even to Jaskier’s untrained eyes. Her stance becomes more confident every day, her moves faster. The clanking of blunt swords echoes above the training ground as Jaskier watches from a bench in the corner, plucking his lute absent-mindedly.

The lion cub is starting to look like her grandmother, with her hair tied back and the sword cutting through the air with force.

The rise in confidence is doing her wonders. Her smile is becoming more often as winter settles in. The first time Ciri laughed out loud at the usual tomfoolery Lambert starts at dinner table, all four witchers and Jaskier stopped to stare at her for a brief moment before joining in.

Later that night, Geralt got emotional when it was just him and Jaskier, cleaning up in the kitchen.

“It’s just… it’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh.” Geralt’s throat bobbles when he says, and Jaskier’s heart breaks for them both, so he takes the plates from the Witcher’s hands and pulls him in for a hug, one that’s a little too tight.

In the courtyard, flurries of snow fall steadily as Ciri disarms Geralt with a twist of her wrist, the heavier sword flying off to the side. She squeaks in excitement.

“Take that, old man!”

Geralt goes to collect his blunt weapon, his chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. “You only did it because I let you, Ciri. Your enemies are not gonna let you disarm them for practice.”

Her pride morphs into a slight pout before it’s tucked away by her regal stance. They’ll make a warrior princess out of her after all.

“You just can’t let me have this one, can you?”

“Yeah, old man,” Jaskier chimes in. “Just admit your loss. I’m sure the White Wolf should know when he’s beaten.”

From Geralt’s glare, Jaskier knows he’s enjoying this too much, but he just can’t get the proud grin off of his face. Ciri sends him a smug smile when she puts away her weapon and gears.

From a distance, Lambert and Eskel are sheathing their training swords as well when Jaskier notices the snow falling harder by the minute, sending a shiver through his body despite the heavy coat wrapped around him. Ugh, his fingers are numb now.

“All right?” Geralt is all packed up, cheeks flushed from the exercise. He’s only wearing a simple tunic and yet it looks like the cold does not affect him at all. Ridiculous witcher biology.

Mischief lights up in Jaskier’s mind when he puts down the lute and walks towards Geralt, before putting his freezing palms flush against the Witcher’s neck.

“Jaskier, what – Fuck!”

He expects Geralt’s usual grunts and retaliation at the blatant offense. Roughhousing has never been a stranger to them, especially now that they are at ease in their friendship again.

What he does not expect is the concern that appears in Geralt’s eyes after a moment of shock and the warm hands that gently cover his.

“Oh Jask, you are freezing.” Geralt’s brows furrow in seriousness, calloused fingers starting to rub the back of Jaskier’s hands in a slow rhythm. Now that he notices, the heat radiating off of Geralt’s skin is lovely, tingling the numbness in his rigid hands and sending a different kind of shiver down his spine. “Gods, you might get frostbite like this. Don’t you have gloves?”

“Er – that’s not…” Jaskier stammers, suddenly aware of their closeness and the lack of everyone else on the training ground. Thank fuck they’ve all gone inside before his foolish prank. “I – I lost them…?”

Now Jaskier is the one blushing, but Geralt pays no mind to his embarrassment and continues to rub heat back into his exposed skin.

“I’ll make you new ones then. Can’t let a lutist lose his fingers,” Geralt murmurs.

The urge to kiss this sweet man is overwhelming, Jaskier has to look away from the beautiful golden yellow to calm his fluttering heart. It’d be too soon. He’s still raw from what went down in the past year.

Thankfully Ciri calls for them to get inside before they freeze over. Jaskier pulls away to answer her, immediately feeling empty without the warm touch. Now he’ll settle for walking to the great hall where a hearth is lit with Geralt by his side.

A week later, Jaskier finds a pair of newly knitted gloves on his bed. They are made with Geralt’s favorite wool – a thick, soft material – and fingerless so he can play. When he slips them on, the urge to track Geralt down in the keep and kiss him all over fills him again.

  Roach bites down on the second apple Jaskier offers her and munches gracelessly.

Jaskier pats her mane while she tries to chew off the fringe on his doublet. Now that he’s reunited with her master, Jaskier can spoil the mare as much as he wants. Not that anyone objected before. The mare clearly has a soft spot for the bard, Geralt is just too stubborn to admit it.

He is just saying goodbye to Roach when the familiar swoosh of magic startles him.

Destiny’s pull rarely works when they are together, so much so that Jaskier has almost forgotten about it for the months he’s within Kaer Morhen’s walls. On top of that, what greets him is not the bulk of a witcher.

Standing by the stalls is a scared little boy.

Jaskier is terrible with guessing children’s age, but this boy is definitely no more than six or seven, wearing plain summer clothes and holding a small bucket for dear life. The boy has a head full of dark curly hair and tears streaking down his cheeks. His brown eyes are wide and full of terror.

“Ma? Where are you?” he calls out, voice horse from crying.

Jaskier is stuck where he stands, too shocked to react. Somewhere next to him, Roach snorts nervously at the volume of the child’s cry.

Geralt once told him how he ended up in Vesemir’s care, when both of them had too much to drink on the eve of Belleteyn many years ago. They only meant to celebrate a hunt well done and Jaskier’s successful performance at the festival, but the drinks kept coming on the courtesy of the pub owner. Before Jaskier knew it, the Witcher was too gone and started to get melancholic in his inebriation.

For once in their lives, Jaskier was the one with some sanity left and promptly put Geralt back to their shared bed.

With the sound of people singing and dancing around bonfires in the distance, Geralt curled into himself, looking uncharacteristically small, and told Jaskier the last time he saw his mother.

“I stood there for so long, by the road. But she was gone,” Geralt slurred the words. “I kept waiting for her…”

Those words, combined with too much ale, broke Jaskier into a million pieces.

“It was so long ago. I don’t even remember what she looks like, the color of her eyes. Or my eyes, before…What was the color of my eyes?”

Jaskier had no answer.

That night, he listened as Geralt drifted off, thinking the witcher would forget about the confession come morning. Or was it Geralt who thought Jaskier never remembered? No matter what reason, Geralt never talked about it again and Jaskier respected that.

And here Geralt is, no more than seven, on what is probably the worst day of his life – having just been abandoned by his mother by the side of the road. He looks confused and cried-out, still clinging to the bucket so hard that his tiny knuckles are turning white.

His eyes are brown.

That’s all Jaskier can think.

The boy’s tears keep falling, and whatever heartbreak Jaskier felt on the night of Belleteyn, it’s not a match for now.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Jaskier shushes as gently as possible. He lowers himself in front of the boy, keeping the movement slow just to not upset him further. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Where is my ma?” young Geralt sniffles, and Jaskier doesn’t know how to answer that. The layers he’s wearing clearly cannot hold out the cold in the dead of winter. The boy is shivering.

“I’m sorry I don’t know where she is. But, here, put this on.” Jaskier shrugs off his coat and wraps it around the boy’s small frame, half of it pooling on the ground. He tries to coax the bucket out of the boy’s hands but he grips tighter.

“Where is she? Where did you take me?” the boy demands in panic.

“I promise I haven’t taken you anywhere, okay? Ger –” Jaskier catches himself. He’s a complete stranger to the child. He shouldn’t know him. “It’s too cold out here. We can go inside and wait for her there. Is that all right?”

The boy shakes his head. “Ma’s coming back to find me. I need to stay.”

“Okay, okay.” Jaskier tries not to panic, but he feels so helpless. He doesn’t even know where to put his hands so he tightens the coat around the boy’s shoulders. “How about this, I’ll find some help for us. Maybe someone from that castle can help. I don’t even know what would happen if they see you like this but…what other option do we have, eh?”

Before he can even get up, Jaskier finds the boy dropping the bucket and clinging to the sleeve of his doublet, the water spilling everywhere.

“No, don’t leave,” the boy says weakly, “Please.”

The boy’s chubby cheeks are streaked with tears, turning red in the mountain air. Jaskier wipes the wetness away with the pad of his thumb, his other arm still in the boy’s grip.

“All right. I won’t leave then, I promise.” Jaskier does his best to smile reassuringly. The ache in his chest makes it difficult but against all odds, it works. The young boy calms down just a little.

“I’ll stay with you, all right? But for now… do you want to make some new friends?”

Jaskier introduces the child to Roach, and he gets less afraid as soon as he sees the horse and reaches out to pet her. With their ridiculous height difference, it looks almost comical. The mare, ever the sweetheart, lowers her head as if she senses something familiar in the boy. She nuzzles his little hand and his eyes light up.

No matter how young, it seems Geralt will always enjoy Roach’s company above anyone else’s. Jaskier watches in wonder at the exchange before him. The boy’s distress dissipates gradually as the mare licks him and showers him in affection.

“Can I keep her?” the child giggles as Roach chews on his hair.

Jaskier smiles, “Sadly no, but maybe you’ll see her again. Who knows.”

All his life, Jaskier has known Geralt as the powerful witcher, his friend and protector. But right here, he’s just another ordinary child who loves giant animals. Only his future holds something no child should ever have to endure.

Jaskier wishes life wouldn’t have to burden this gentle boy, harden him into the warrior that he is now. This moment could last forever for all he cares, so this young boy wouldn’t need to go back to face the path ahead.

He doesn’t know how long they have here, undisturbed by the four witchers inside the keep, or the magic pulling them apart.

“Can I tell you something?” Jaskier says as the child runs his fingers through Roach’s mane. He turns around to look at the bard curiously with his beautiful brown eyes. “Do you know you’re a very good boy? And when you grow up, you’ll become a very good person.”

“Ma says I should do good.”

“She’s right.”

“And doing good is hard… sometimes.”

Jaskier swallows the lump in his throat. “That too. Life is difficult, unfair even. But you are strong, stronger than you’ll ever believe. Remember this, and you’ll find a way.”

“I’m strong?” the boy looks at Jaskier expectantly. His tiny frame is drowned in Jaskier’s coat.

“The strongest.” the bard nods.

“Like a knight?”

“Better than a knight.”

The smile that lights up the boy’s rosy cheeks is the most wonderful thing Jaskier has ever seen, better than the northern lights on these mountains. But their moment seems to have come to an end.

The swoosh of magic Jaskier knows by heart brushes by his ear, and Roach suddenly brays anxiously in her stall.

“I feel weird.” The panic returns to the boy’s voice.

“It’s okay. It means we have to say goodbye.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Never.”

“But why do we have to say goodbye?” his tiny voice gets tight and scared once more. Jaskier shushes him gently.

“Because we’ll see each other again.”

“And horsie too?”

“Her too.” Jaskier nods solemnly.

The boy waves nervously at Jaskier, and then the mare. His big brown eyes bore into Jaskier’s with hope and trust, a trust that will be returned decades from now, for him at least.

“Goodbye.”

Once again, Jaskier is left alone. Snow falls silently in the courtyard like it has been for days.

  The rest of the day passes in a blur. Jaskier goes through dinner without a word, no matter how the four witchers try to engage with him.

Eskel is his usual self, nice and respectful, not prodding after noticing Jaskier in a weird mood. It’s something Lambert physically cannot do, because he constantly asks Jaskier what is wrong, trying to get a response out of him.

“You smell miserable, buttercup, like you are about to pass out.”

Jaskier imagines the tight smile he offers is not the most convincing, since everyone only gets more concerned. Ciri puts her hand on his arm as a silent question, and when she can’t get an answer she starts brooding just like Geralt.

Jaskier would laugh at their likeness if not for his mind racing so fast.

Geralt must have noticed the moment he came back from the stables. He has not let Jaskier out of his sight since, his worry silent but not pushing. After dinner, Jaskier can still feel the weighted gaze on his back, following him all the way back to the bedroom.

He leads Geralt into his room at the end of the hallway and shuts the door. With a soft click of the door, Jaskier turns to throw himself at the witcher with a force that would have knocked over any other man, but Geralt only catches his momentum, solid and steady. He buries his nose into Geralt’s shoulder and lets the familiar smell of pine and soap fill his senses.

“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice rumbles out of his chest, deep and patient. “You know, Lambert was right. You smell so…sad.”

“I made you a promise.” Jaskier’s voice is muffled by Geralt’s shoulder.

“What?”

“I made you a promise. Years ago for me, and years from now for you. To always have faith in you, even when you make mistakes.” Jaskier extracts his limbs and looks into the confusion in the flowing amber. He presses their lips together, sweet and lingering, like they have all the time in the world. The kiss tastes like the lost years between them, all the laughter and heartaches, the lust and yearning, and the dust and smoke from war. He pulls away.

The last time he kissed Geralt, it was by the side of a road, full of rage and hurt. This time, it’s hope that rises like a winter sun, cozy but not sweltering.

“This is me keeping that promise.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt swallows, composing himself, “You know I won’t hold it against you. It’s not fair for you to be pressured into this just for something I haven’t asked of you yet. I meant it when I said you can take all the time you need, because I did fuck up, and I’m so –”

“Don’t apologize again,” Jaskier interrupts, “I know how sorry you feel, how you’ll still feel even years from now. Just – don’t.”

He presses his forehead to Geralt’s and they breathe in tandem. Maybe he’s still affected by the memory of Geralt as a child, scared and alone, unaware of the hurt he’s about to receive. The trials, growing up away from home, training to become a weapon, the glares people cast at him. Jaskier shudders to think, desperately needing to shield his witcher from the world, but he was powerless in the stable this afternoon. He is not powerless now.

“How about a promise you did hear from me?” he asks.

Geralt frowns in confusion, waiting for him to explain, so Jaskier cups Geralt’s jaw to study him again, his thumb resting exactly where he wiped tears off of the boy hours ago.

“They were brown.”

The confusion in the amber eyes only grows.

“Your eyes, before the trials. They used to be brown.”

Geralt still looks at him incredulously. When it comes out like that, Jaskier probably sounds crazy.

“Your mother left you by the side of the road. She told you to get water, and when you got back she was gone,” he swallows, “You waited, holding a bucket of water. You waited until you went somewhere else. Somewhere cold, there’s a horse and snow and –”

“Oh.”

Realization dawns on Geralt like a lightning strike. He stares at Jaskier in disbelief.

“All these years –” he whispers, “How is it possible? I thought it was a dream. Vesemir told me it was a dream, that I was in so much shock that I conjured it up in my mind. A horse in the snow, chestnut brown, and…”

“And me,” Jaskier almost chokes out, “It wasn’t a dream.”

Geralt looks pained. All this talk about that day must be dredging up terrible memories and Jaskier never wants to hurt him on top of that.

“Do you remember what I said before you went back?”

To which Geralt chuckles tightly.

“That whole day was a bit hazy in my memory, Jask. Vesemir was right in that I was in shock. And I’ve tried so hard to forget about that day, to bury it so I don’t have to think about it.” he holds on to Jaskier, studying him in a new light. “I just remember that you made me feel so warm, Jask. You were the only good thing on the worst day of my life.”

The ache in Jaskier’s chest lessens somehow at those words. For whatever reason destiny decided to weave their fates together, he’s grateful for it just for that moment’s solace alone.

“You knew you were leaving.”

“I did. Now that I know, it was the first time I ever got pulled through time. To you.”

“I did promise we would see each other again.” Jaskier smiles.

Geralt pauses for a moment. Gradually, the golden yellow lights up like the most beautiful constellation in the night sky.

“You promised to never leave me.”

This time when their lips come together, it’s quiet and natural, like a piece of puzzle falling into place. Jaskier backs Geralt towards the bed, and they almost fall over onto the mattress, breaking the contact.

Geralt chases him with heated fervor, to which Jaskier gladly returns with a soft moan. He’s missed his witcher after all. Any space separating them at this moment needs to be closed like it personally offends him.

Tomorrow morning, Jaskier will wake Geralt with fingers through his hair and lips pressed to his forehead. Tomorrow Jaskier will tell him how much he loves him, over and over again. It won’t be the first time Jaskier has uttered the words, but it will be the first affirmation Geralt receives. Tomorrow Geralt will crinkle his eyes and return the words sleepily while dragging Jaskier back under the covers.

Tomorrow they’ll start a new chapter, together.

For now, they fall into each other under the night sky of the Blue Mountains, in a small room with a roaring fire burning in the hearth, tucked away from war and heartbreak.

[tooweirdforyou]

You » Part Two

Fuck Tumblr and it’s stupid maximum word count .-. Here’s PART TWO to that special fic idea, hope you enjoy it! :D

Can you tell me what you think of this? 🥺

Summary : Arriving at an island you’ve been longing for, Law discovers some truth about you and himself. not good with summaries

Part One Here!

-

To say that the Heart Pirates were shocked would be an understatement.

Following after you, they stood still at the sight of you in the center of the plaza, the whole area covered and lit up by the lights and torches that were lit around.

You were facing away from them, speaking with some other women who were wearing similar dresses to you and different colored flower crowns.

You seemed comfortable around them, talking and laughing while other people nearby were either setting up the area or standing/sitting around to watch, waiting for the entertainment to start.

Law watches you carefully from where he stood. The crew stood afar but had a decent enough view of the center of the plaza.

“Is that [Name]?”

“Is this the special performances and entertainment that tour guide was talking about?”

“I wonder what’s going on.”

Law didn’t say anything as his crewmates chattered amongst themselves and just kept his eyes on you before seeing you make their way over to them.

“Glad you decided to come! Sorry I just took off, but I had to check in for a brief minute for something.” You laugh sheepishly before smiling at the crew and waited for them to say anything.

But instead, the announcer spoke into his mic.

“Alright everyone, it’s reaching midnight! Before our special entertainment and show performance, we must celebrate our yearly traditional festival of the lights! Does everyone have their lanterns ready?”

You look down at the lantern in your hand and hum, turning to the others and seeing them hold them up, besides Law.

“You ready, Law?” You hum and Law clicks his tongue. “What’s the point? These don’t actually work..” he mutters and you frown.

“Of course they do. Just give it a chance, and your wish will come true.”

Law didn’t respond as the announce came back on and yells with excitement. “One minute left!”

You turn to Bepo, Shachi and Penguin and grin eagerly. “Ready, you guys?” The trio only nod, also as enthusiastic about the festival as you.

“3, 2, 1! Let them go!”

And all at once, everyone held up their lanterns in the air and released them into the sky.

You turn to Law and watch his reluctant before smiling and bringing his arm up, making him release his hold onto the lantern and let it fly.

Exchanging glances with the doctor, you only beam with joy at the sight of the lit up lanterns all following each other in the night, along with the bright sky and it’s beautiful stars.

“Look, it’s flying!”

“Wah... the stars really are beautiful!”

“It’s amazing! I hope my wish comes true.”

Many similar shouts were heard from the crew and other islanders and visitors.

Law kept a close eye on his one lantern, watching it fly off slowly and mix with the others into the night, the smallest smile on his lips.

He was enjoying this night with you. Seeing your delighted and overjoyed expression made his chest warm.

All of his worries and stressed seemed to go away and he felt at peace.

But that soon faded away.

“Okay, everyone! Please gather around and sit in silence as we begin our performance! Ladies are up first! Ladies, you have the stage.” An another announcer / host spoke into a microphone, gesturing over to you.

You smile, giving a silent thanks to the host before walking away from the surprised group.

Making your way towards the center of the plaza once more, you put on a earpiece microphone and adjusted it so it wouldn’t slip off.

Looking around the crowd, you met eyes with Law and gave a small shy and sheepish smile before speaking.

“Thank you all for coming! Make yourselves comfortable. The show is about to begin! Please enjoy!”

With that, you readjusted your headset mic again and the native men began to beat their bongos and drums, whilst others were playing acoustic guitars.

Gripping your own guitar, you made sure the others were ready to go. After giving a nod of approval from the other women and men, you smile and turn back.

Taking a scan of the audience, your smile softens and you started to strum your guitar in sync with the others and the women behind you began to dance with a sway of their hips.

Parting your lips, you began to sing out a gentle tune, moving side to side with the dancers and held a bright cheery smile on your face as you did so.

“E-Eh? [Name] is singing and dancing!”

“I didn’t know she could play the guitar.”

“Wow, her voice is so great when she sings!”

The others gawked at you, mouths gaped at your movements and angelic voice singing to their ears.

Law watches with surprised eyes as you sang and danced with the women, as if you had done this many times before.

But he couldn’t help the secret, small, amused smile that formed, hearing you sing. It was nice, soft, melodic and you sang with ease.

That’s when it clicked to him.

Law’s eyes gazes onto you as you continue to sing out to your hearts content, the crowd swaying to your voice and enjoying the beat of the drums and the dance of the women.

‘How could I have not noticed sooner?’

Feeling a hard gaze, you turn discreetly whilst singing and saw Law, softening your smile as you knew what he had just discovered about you.

Closing your eyes and letting him know that you knew he discovered the truth, you only just sing.

‘He knows.. but it’s okay.. it was time and it was bound to happen anyways.’ You told yourself, before finishing up the song and gently stopped the chords of your guitar from making further noise.

Once you finished, the announcer returned, applauding your performance, the audience and most of the crew doing the same.

“Wasn’t that wonderful, everyone? Thank you ladies and gentlemen for that beautiful performance, and most of all, to our special girl [Name]! She just returned home after having gone overseas, and she’s still as talented as ever!”

Cheers and whistles could be heard and the loud shocked noises from the Heart Pirates were simply ignored.

You shyly smile at the crowd and waved to some people before turning away, making the announcer laugh.

“Looks like someone’s gotten shy over the years. That’s our dear, [Name]!”

From this point, Law was no longer listening to the announcer and just had his eyes on you, watching you take off the headset microphone and head off quickly, away from the plaza.

And he took off after you.

-

“You’re a native islander here.”

Pausing in your movement, you smile softly at the familiar voice and slowly stood straight, turning to the door and found him leaning against the frame.

“So I am.. it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” You hum and Law narrows his eyes. “If you had just told me this was your home island-“

“Would it really matter?” You cut him off, a sad smile now forming. “Would you have kicked me off the second we arrived?”

Law didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue which you did.

“That’s right.. I’m not an orphan.. and I’d be lying if I said I’m not happy that I’m back home..”

“but I was perfectly fine with skipping past this island and continuing to venture the seas with your crew.” You mumble, bringing a hand up to pull a strand of your hair behind your ear and fidgeted a bit.

“Is it so wrong of me? Am I selfish for wanting to be with you and the crew, because of the great memories I’ve made? Even though I’m not a pirate, but some random islander?”

You continue to just question yourself and your thoughts, a frown slowly replacing your smile.

Law continued to keep quiet, but had entered himself into the room and shut the door, making his way over towards the couch.

“Tell me, Law.”

Law looks up at you and finally takes notice of your few tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

“..Am I so selfish, to want to be with you and the others?.. Even if it hasn’t been long.. I’m so happy with you all..”

Law lowers his hat to cover his eyes as he slowly spoke. “I can’t answer that.”

You smile weakly at him and nod, wiping your tears and inhaled deeply before relaxing with a heavy sigh. “Right. I knew the answer already anyways.”

You look back to what you were doing, seeing your all too familiar room from when you lived here years ago and smile softly.

Though it was your old room, the room happens to now be Law’s for the time-being of his stay.

You then found your guitar from your earlier performance and went over to grab it, Law’s eyes following and watching you carefully.

“How was the performance?”

“It was alright.” Law admits, making you smile softer and nod. “That’s good.. glad you liked it.”

Gliding your fingers across the chords so it played a string of noises, you quickly pressed your hand against them to stop it.

“Have you sang before?”

Knowing what you were insinuating, he closed his eyes. “I don’t sing.” You chuckle and smirk playfully.

“Everyone has tried singing before, whether they’re good or not is another story.” You tease and he hums in slight amusement, unknown to your walking towards him.

It was only when you were right in front him, did he open his eyes, a bit startled to see you.

You reach up a hand to your head, grasping onto the flower crown that laid delicately on top and lifted it, you pull off his white hat and replaced it with the crown.

Giggling a bit at the sight and the very faint blush of Law’s cheeks, you lean down since he was sitting and hum.

As you brought a hand up to caress his cheek, you gave a soft grin, your gentle voice filling his ears.

“Why don’t you sing with me, mister pirate? It’ll be fun.” You whisper and Law grimaces a bit.

“I don’t sing.” He repeats and you faked a pout.

“Come on, Captain Trafalgar Law, of the Heart Pirates. Do me this last favor?”

Law’s stoic expression slowly falters and fades before a small defeated but annoyed smile spread his lips.

“Fine... only this one time..” Only for you.

Victorious smile brought onto your lips, you went over to the seat across from him and sat.

Bringing the acoustic guitar to your chest, you began strumming a gentle tune for him to start off.

Even though he agreed, Law glared small daggers to you before he parted his lips and began to sing.

“Good little girl..”

Your eyes widened just a bit, surprised at how soft his voice was, despite it being deep.

Whilst he sang, he stood up and walked around the table over to you, Law brought his hand up and glided his index finger towards your chin, lifting it up to pull you closer.

“Always picking a fight with me.., you know that I’m bad~”

He walks around behind you and carefully wraps his arms around your waist and lean towards your ear. Leaning dangerously close, Law lets a smirk take over as he tilts his head, continuing to sing softly.

“But you’re spending the night with me~”

He then pulls away and turns, bringing his hand down to his sides and sits back down in his previous seat.

“What, do you want, from my world? You’re a good little girl~”

You smile warmly and close your eyes, parting your lips to begin singing after him, continuing to strum.

“Bad little boy~”

Law watches amusingly at your words, actually enjoying himself and listening to your angelic and melodic voice.

“That’s what you’re acting like, I really don’t buy..”

You open your eyes and tilt your head, leaning forward and let a wider smile spread across your mouth.

“That you’re that kind of guy~”

You stand up, walking over towards him and this time, you knelt down by his side and leaned into his ear, your breath fanning his face.

“And if you are.. why do you still hang out with me?..”

Leaning back a little, your strumming slowly came to a stop and you stare at Law for a moment.

Smiling softly, you began to pull back to stand up but Law was quicker.

Instantly, you suddenly felt a pair of lips pressed onto yours.

Your eyes widen slightly but you didn’t waste any more time to kiss him back, closing your eyes and relaxing as Law deepens it.

Relaxed, you lean closer and brought a hand up to his face and caressed his cheek, smiling slightly through the kiss.

He opens his eyes to stare at you, before he pulls away and let out a smug smile.

Law’s eyes seem to constantly linger from your lips to your eyes for a few seconds.

Still just inches apart, your smile softens as you look up at him, lovingly. Warm eyes met his and your cheeks began to pinken.

“..I really like you, Law.” You whisper out and Law couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped from his lips. “It’s apparent.”

Giggling, you sneaked a glance to his lips before looking back up at his eyes and playfully shake your head. “Well? Do you plan on saying it back?”

Law rolls his eyes before smirking and tilting his head and connected your lips with his once again.

This lasted much shorter than the previous one but it still held the same warmth and love.

“I believe that answer is sufficient enough.” He says and you smile wider before standing up to stretch your legs. “Yes it is.” You mused.

“Quite the singer.”

“In my blood.” You respond cheekily, shrugging it off nonchalantly and he chuckles.

“You know, you weren’t too bad yourself.” You complimented and he cocks his head to the side.

“Too bad it’s the last time you’ll be hearing me sing.” He spoke matter-of-factly, making you giggle, lifting the guitar and setting it aside.

“Yeah, that is unfortunate. You’ll be gone before I have any other chances to tease and annoy you anymore.” You hum and Law rolls his eyes a bit.

Silence overtook you as your expression softens despite your smile faltering.

“...When are you leaving?”

“..First thing tomorrow.”

Nodding, you dust your clothes off, bringing back a small sad smile and turn to Law.

“I see... well.”

Staying quiet for a moment, you inhaled deeply. You then bow your head before bowing a complete 90°.

“Thank you for taking care of me all this time and bringing me back home.. I will never forget your kindness and hospitality. I truly enjoyed my time I spent with you and your crew..”

You relax your body, ignoring the aching pain in your chest that kept punching you.

Telling you to stop saying goodbye.

To tell him what you truly wanted.

You didn’t want Law to leave.

You wanted to stay with him.

Stay by his side and his crew.

You wanted to be with Law.

“Is this your decision?”

Law stares at you, bowing before him as you finally straighten yourself up and forced a wide smile and cleared your throat.

You only ignored his question and close your eyes softly.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay, and have a good night.”

Picking up your guitar, you began heading towards the door and brought your hand to the knob, opening it up.

Turning back to face him, you stare at him a bit, expression softening before a strained smile came out. You then turn, facing the exit again.

Why are you leaving him?...

“Goodbye, Trafalgar Law.”

Law stares at your leaving figure, the slightest frown noticeable on his lips as he accepted your decision, regardless of how he felt.

He didn’t want to leave you either.

Despite all your annoyances you brought to the crew, he secretly loved every second he spent with you.

And the growing feelings rising in his chest.

He wanted you to stay with him.

It’s only you that can make him feel so warm and loved.

He wanted to be with you.

Reaching up to touch the flower crown that you had given, Law felt his heart breaking piece by piece, a sunken feeling in his chest as he closed his eyes.

Did he deserve this?..

“Goodbye, [Name] [Last Name].”

And the door shut closed.

-

Was this the consequence of becoming a pirate?

Was he being punished for even having the slightest bit of hope when he finally found someone he could say he was in love with?...

Was Law in love with you?

Law wasn’t clueless, he knew the exact cause of his heartache, his burning pain in his chest.

He just chose to disregard it. To push it away, because it wasn’t his choice if you stayed or not.

But he could only wish in his next life, maybe life would be a little nicer to him. Maybe he would be lucky enough to live a better life, and maybe end up with someone like you.

“You should really quit being so negative, Law. It’s not good for your skin, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Law’s eyes widen a bit as he looks up, expecting to see you within his line of sight but saw nothing but the empty dock on the coast of the island.

‘Did I imagine that?..’ Law frowns a bit, closing his eyes again and tried to relax.

His mind then wandered over to the lanterns from last night, exhaling inaudibly. ‘I already knew that stupid wish wasn’t coming true.. so why am I so disappointed?’

“We’re all set to go, Captain!.... Captain?”

Bepo blinks at Law’s stilled state and walks over, placing a paw on his shoulder. “Captain.” He called out and Law opens his eyes.

“Right. Let’s get going then.”

Bepo nods as the crew all began climbing on board the submarine to get going.

“Is [Name] really not coming with us?..” Shachi mumbles and Penguin frowns disappointedly.

“This is her home. You can’t expect her to just drop everything and become a pirate, after being gone for so long.” He explains but that only dampened the others’ moods.

“It was her choice.” Law simply says, turning away and began to board onto the submarine, when a sudden shout was heard.

“TRAFALGAR LAW!”

Everyone froze at the sudden shout, nearly tripping over their own two feet.

Law turns at the sound of his name, looking into the distance and saw an all too familiar figure running towards him.

“You asshole, you better not be leaving yet!” You shout from afar, nearly stumbling but caught your balance and continued to run.

Bepo’s eyes widens and Shachi and Penguin gave wide grins.

“It’s [Name]! [NAME]!” Penguin and Shachi calls out excitedly, waving their arms.

Law sweatdrops at your running form, mixed emotions running through him as you finally came closer into their line of sight.

Though, just a mere few feet away, you tripped over a rock and fell face first onto the ground.

“[N-Name]!”

They were taken back but jumped when you snapped your head up and stood up with a huff, securing your big bag onto your back before continuing to run.

Your face and body were aching from having ran so far and literally having just fallen but you didn’t care, lunging yourself right into Law’s arms.

Clearly not having expecting that, nor with the amount of force you put in, Law ended up falling onto the ground, you on top and hovering over him.

“Captain!” / “[Name]!” The crew shouted in surprise, sweatdropping and much worry and concern over the two of them.

You ignore them and huffed, looking down at him and supported yourself up with your hands on either side of his head while sitting on his waist.

“Trafalgar Law!”

“Stop yelling..”

“I LOVE YOU!”

Law widens his eyes at your sudden exclaim before immediately feeling a pair of lips press onto his.

His crewmates all gasped in shock at the sight, a few flushing at the sight while others smirked at their captain.

You shut your eyes tightly and cupped his cheeks, deepening the kiss by the tilt of your head and slowly, hungry lips kissed back.

Smiling softly, you pull away after a few seconds and look down at him, scratches and small cuts on your face from your fall.

“Let me join your crew. As a pirate. Part of the Heart Pirates. And...” A faint blush spread across your cheeks but you still held a grin.

“I want you! Okay? I’m in love with you. So be mine!”

Law stares at you, bewildered and stunned before a small smirk came across his face, his cheeks a soft pink.

“You really are troublesome..” he mutters before relaxing his body and closed his eyes.

“Fine. You’re now part of my crew. And as my first order as your captain, I demand you get the hell off me and onto the ship.”

You pout at his harsh words before smiling and pecked his lips, much to his dismay. Then getting up and dusted your clothes off, you stood holding out your hand for him.

“It’s a pleasure to be in your care, Captain.”

Law takes your hand to help himself up as he smirks amusingly. “Of course. I’m glad you decided to join us.”

You giggle and pull him up before securing your bag. “After memories like that, I can’t just suddenly leave. I have a new home now. With you and the crew.”

Before Law could respond, Bepo’s cries of joy was heard and him, Shachi and Penguin all ran up to you, tackling you into a hug.

“[Name]! We’re so glad you’re staying!”

“We were so worried you were going to leave for good!”

“It’s about time you got with the Captain!”

You could only laugh at them, taking in the hugs and shouts from them and just smiled brightly, clearly feeling overjoyed at being with them once more.

The doctor stares at you from where he was, feeling the warmth of your lips against him still as the smallest ghost of a genuine smile formed.

Law’s never felt so much relief and secret joy in his life, at the thought of spending his life with you, even as a pirate.

Only you, can make me feel this way, [Name].

It’s only you.

“Oi, let’s get going already.”

“Yes, Captain!”

Meeting eyes with Law, you share a warm smile to him, Law giving his own small pure smile, the sense of love and warmth evident in both yours and his eyes.

Realizing just how much you meant to him and how secretly glad he was to see you once more, maybe his wish did come true. He was happy.

And he knew one thing for sure too.

I’m in love with you [Name]-ya.

-

a/n : ahhh, hope you enjoyed this!!! :DD I stayed up to a bit over 2AM to finish this, even if I had class. :p 🥰🤍 and ended up being late for it-

So, clearly, I’m sure it’s not what people expected.

What did you think? :D it’s so rushed in the beginning of this part— DOES IT SEEM RUSHED?

And yes, before anyone asks, the song is from adventure time. It may not fit but I like it. Mostly the cover song made by Ashe.

not edited.

[samwilsonsbabymama]

Baby, It’s You

18+

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black Reader

Summary: @princessmisery666​ sent in this prompt

*electric slides back into your asks* Sam spends a full week playing old r’n’b songs about getting married/being in love. But his gf doesn’t get the hint, she’s just like “damn this is my jam, dance with me babe.” How she figures it out or Sam just asks is dealers choice 🤷🏼‍♀️ songs for inspo. Jagged Edge - Lets Get Married. Next - Wifey. New Edition - Something About You. 112 - Only You.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, more fluff, sex in the kitchen, fingering, bad singing and more fluff, dirty talk, and ummm... idk what else lol 💖

Word Count: 1,800ish

A/N: This was fun to write lol i feel like i haven’t written a full Sam fic in a while and I’m glad that I got the chance to lol I hope yall like it!

Songs used

Happily Ever After by Case

You by Jesse Powell

Let’s Get Married by Jagged Edge

You heard the music as soon as you pulled into the driveway. This was the third day in a row that Sam beat you home, and each day music flowed from the house while he waited for you to come home. 

When you entered, Sam was in the kitchen already starting preparing dinner. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. You felt him relax into your embrace before he turned his head and greeted you with a kiss. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Sam said after he had pulled away causing you to pout at the loss of his lips.

“I missed you today,” you responded as you relaxed against his back. You felt his muscles move as he continued preparing dinner.

He hummed in agreement. “Why don’t you go get changed then come help me?” you loved cooking with Sam, so you scampered away to your shared bedroom to change.

When you returned, Sam had already set aside some vegetables for you to chop and a glass of wine. While you chopped, you and Sam sang along to the music that was playing.

You don't have to look no further than me (don't look no further, baby yeah)

You don't need much more than my lovin' to make you happy (I'm so happy, babe)

Beneath the side of God, I will make this vow to you (come on baby)

I'll be right here, stay with me (stay with me, baby hey)

“I remember when I realized that was Beyonce in that video,” you laughed when the song ended. “I watched that video on repeat asking myself how I didn’t see it.”

Sam just chuckled, but he didn’t respond as the next song started.

“This is my JAM, Sam!” you said before you cleared your throat getting ready to attempt some high notes that you knew you weren’t going to hit. “I love this song so much.”

I've finally found the nerve to say

I'm gonna make a change in my life

Starting here today

Sam started singing before you could start and you laughed. You both knew that Sam was the better singer between the two of you and that he would be the one to make money from singing if he ever quit his day job.

But when the chorus began, there was no way to keep you from holding out that note.

“And baby, it’s you!” your voice wavered as you held out the tune. Your eyes tearing up as you strained to hold the note.

Sam filled in the background lyrics as you continued to attempt the high notes in the chorus, but he took over for the chorus.

Next year lets call this day our anniversary

The day I put my heart in your hand

And said that it was yours to keep

From this moment on say that you'll always be mine

Cause girl when I'm alone with you

There's only one thing that's on my mind

“I gotta try those high notes again,” you laughed skipping the first one when the chorus repeated. You took in a deep breath and prepared to belt out the note.

“FROM THIS DAY FORTH!!!!!!” you closed your eyes as you sang, internally wishing that you had taken a deeper breath before you started. You stretched out your hand imitating Jesse Powell in the video as you sang.

When you reached the end of the note, you took in another deep breath and opened your eyes to find Sam smiling at you. Instead of letting you continue singing, Sam turned the music down and reached for your left hand.

“Sam, wha-” you began but stopped talking when he shook his head.

“I don’t know how to say this, y/n,” he began, and you could tell that he was nervous.

“I know that I can’t sing, Sam,” you laughed, “we’ve been through this before.”

“That’s not- I mean, it’s true, but that’s not what I wanted to say,” he laughed. “I’ve practiced this at least a dozen times already and after each time I feel like I know what I’m going to say but I can’t seem to remember what I had planned out because every time I look at you my mind goes blank and I can’t seem to remember anything other than how much I love you and how much you’ve made my life better and-”

“Sam!” you interrupted. “You’re not making any sense.” You were laughing at the way he was acting because you had never seen him so nervous before.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face and was silent for a moment. While you waited for him to continue, the music changed and after the first few beats of the song played, everything clicked.

See first of all

I know these so-called playas wouldn't tell you this

But I'ma be real and say what's on my heart

You raised your right hand and placed it on your chest, “Sam,” you whispered. You tried to pull your hand away from him, but he held on tight.

“Just, hear me out.” He let out a deep breath and locked eyes with you. “Y/n, we’ve been together for a while, hell, practically our entire lives. We’ve grown together, and I don’t see me loving anyone else but you. You’ve made me a better man than I thought was possible.” 

Sam knelt down onto one knee and pulled out a ring from his back pocket. “I want to spend my forever with you. Will you marry me, y/n?”

Your eyes were clouded with tears as you thought about the events of the last few days. Sam had been trying to propose to you. All of the love songs, the flowers, him coming home before you. You hadn’t noticed because this was typical behavior from Sam; he was constantly showering you with love and affection.

You wiped the tears from your eyes before you wrapped your arms around Sam’s neck and drew him in for a kiss. His arms immediately went to your waist as you kissed. Your hands moved to the front of his shirt as you began plucking the buttons open. You wasted no time removing the shirt from his body.

As you removed his shirt, Sam worked on removing your shorts and panties. You pulled away for a second and stepped out of your pants and pulled your shirt over your head while Sam stepped out of his.

Your eyes roved over his body as the two of you stood bare before each other for a moment and when your eyes locked once again, the two of you reached for each other and your lips crashed together. 

Your movements were frenzied as you kissed. Sam’s hands gripped all over your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. You wrapped one of your legs around his waist in an attempt to bring him closer, so Sam lifted you up and sat you on the counter. Sam was the first to break from the kiss as he began to move down your neck. He palmed your breast and rolled you nipple between his fingers while leaving a trail of bites down your neck.

Neither of you spoke as he kissed his way down your plump stomach and set your knees on his shoulders. He placed a gentle kiss along your inner thighs and locked eyes with you once again. Your eyes rolled back when he first licked you, drawing out a moan from the both of you. Your eyes snapped open when Sam pulled back. You watched as Sam adjusted himself and got comfortable; he wrapped his arms around your thighs and spread you open to him.

“Such a pretty sight,” he mused before he dove back in.

Your hands shot to his head as he ate you with fervor. You chanted his name over and over as he licked and slurped at your core. You felt yourself getting closer as he ate, and you clenched when he slid a finger inside of you. 

Sam pulled back and continued to fuck you with his finger. “I know you’re close, baby girl” the movement of his finger slowed and he slipped another in. “But you never answered my question.”

Your eyes snapped open at his statement. “S-Sam, please!”

He shook his head, “Nah, I need to hear you say it. I need an answer, baby girl. Will you marry me?” his fingers thrust in time with his words.

You were so close to your release, it was right there. If you moved just right, you knew that you could get it.

As if sensing your thoughts, Sam gripped your hip with his free hand and he completely stopped moving.

Your chest rose and fell a couple of times while you tried to compose yourself. You reached out and cupped Sam’s cheek. With as confident as Sam always was, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. Sam wasn’t a mind reader, and you needed to reassure him that you were his and his forever.

You locked eyes with Sam and nodded, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The smile that graced Sam’s face made your heart swell. And when he swooped down and kissed you, with his fingers still inside of you, you swore you saw stars.

Sam resumed his movements while he kissed you, his fingers moving faster than before. You panted against his lips as he continued to fuck you.

“Cum on my fingers, baby,” he egged you on. “Cum on my fingers so you can cum on my dick next.”

You clenched on his fingers as they sped up.

“You feel so good, so wet and warm,” he praised. “I can’t wait for you to cum on my dick again and again and again.”

You gripped his arm when your legs started shaking, you threw your head back and Sam attached his lips onto your neck.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me. Cum for me, wife.”

So you did. You clenched down hard on Sam’s fingers making it hard for him to continue moving. 

“That’s it, baby girl, fuck you look so good cumming for me like this, Sam praised again.“Spread out on the kitchen counter like the meal you are. I can’t wait to be buried inside of you for the rest of the night.”

A/N 2: If you ‘like’ this, please reblog or leave a comment (even if it’s just an emoji) It would mean so much to me!!!

[chemiste]

Logan and The Diamonds

a/n: aaaaaah to be a rockstar and have harry styles fall in love with you

mah masterlist bitches

The crowed roared. 

The stage shook with excitement. 

You and your girls rose up about of the floor, posed and ready for battle. Standing in the center, you raised your arm up to the sky and yelled into the microphone, “I give you, Logan and the Diamonds!”

The beat dropped and you started the song.

Your band consisted of 5 girls, Bonni, Effy, Pearl, and Tonya, then yourself. Your band had been on the cover of the Rolling Stones, TIME magazine, Vogue, and many others. Logan was your stage name, you were the head of the band, lead singer and a cut-throat song-writer. 

Roughy a year ago you would have been sitting in your cramp dorm room apartment, pouring out lyrics onto any spare piece of paper you had, now here you were, absolutely smashing it on your world tour with your Diamonds.

Bonni and Effy danced together down the middle aisle of the stage, Effy grabbed a flower crown thrown to the stage and slapped it onto her curly head of purple hair. Bonni laughed and started her verse of the song, throwing an arm around her bandmate and swayed. 

Pearl and Tonya were on the right side of the main stage, grinding together. You stood on the left, running a hand through the crowd that was desperate for a simple taste of you and your girls.

Your band was unique in a way not seen for a while. You never wore the same outfit, only coordinating colors, each time different for each performance. 

Tonight was sliver, Bonni had on sliver high-waisted pants and a matching crop top. Effy wore a mini romper, sliver sequins shaking with her every move. Pearl had on sliver eyeshadow and Tonya wore a sliver skirt. You went with a biker jacket, sliver studs engulfed your shoulders and back. Your black jeans were tight against your legs and honestly, you looked fucking hot. You felt it too. 

You and your girls were on fire.

Harry thought so too.

He’d heard of your band a few months ago when he heard Mitch and Sarah jamming out to your song, Devil in the Daylight, during a break at rehearsal. 

After that, his curiosity kept him circling back to your band’s Instagram, keeping up with any news that popped up. Finally, after a few months, he snatched some pit tickets for one of your band’s shows. Sarah and Mitch attended with him as well, and were now laughing and singing to their hearts content, crammed up to the front of the stage.

The song ended and applause followed, the girls moved to different spots on the long runway, waving to screaming fans.

Effy spoke up, “Alight right everyone, you know the drill! Every show we do a surprise cover of a song, I wanna see how fast you can figure this one out.”

 Bonni walked along the left side of the runway, flipping a long dark braid over her shoulder. “This song is from one of the 2015s most iconic bands,” she said.

 Tonya continued, “If most of you are over 15 and haven’t been living under a rock, you deficiently know the band—“ “Maybe even have a favorite,” Pearl added on.

“We all do,” you said, smirking out to the crowd as the yelled answers.

Sarah and Mitch went through bands with each other as Harry watched you and your bandmates scan the crowd. Harry liked your look, it reminded him of a metal head and the aura you gave off was just a confidence that made him want to be with you or even just be you. 

H looked around and took a moment to realize he wasn’t the only one.

People yelled out random bands.

“Mumford and Sons!”

“Fallout Boy!”

“Fifth Harmony!”

“Maroon 5!”

Harry chuckled before throwing all caution to the wind and yelled, “One Direction!”

You head snapped to the area he was in, trying to see who’d said the name.

 “Well, my diamonds, looks like we have a winner! 3, 2, 1 lets go!”

The girls lined up in specific poses as the music started, the crowd roared with excitement finally knowing the song.

You started,

I've got fire for a heart

I'm not scared of the dark

You've never seen it look so easy

I got a river for a soul

And baby, you're a boat

Baby, you're my only reason

Harry’s jaw dropped, as Pearl sang Louis’ part, his eyes stayed trained on you. Your body moved with the song, throwing your head back and swaying to the beat.

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love, nobody can drag me down

You danced to your girl’s singing, happy to be on stage doing the thing you loved most.

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love, nobody can drag me down

Harry watched, absolutely amazed by how you just dominated the song, no hesitation. You smirked as you ran a hand through the screaming crowd. Glancing over, you watched as Effy pretended to twerk on Tonya who was laughing hysterically.

I got a fire for a heart

I'm not scared of the dark

You've never seen it look so easy

I got a river for a soul

And baby, you're a boat

Baby, you're my only reason

Bonni sang Niall’s part, walking over to where you stood with a bit of swagger, possibly imitated the man she was singing for. 

You flipped your hair dramatically and leaned an arm on her shoulder while sticking out her tongue. Harry’s eyes stayed trained on your body as you waltzed down the stage, singing into your microphone.

If I didn't have you there would be nothing left (nothing left)

The shell of a man who could never be his best (be his best)

If I didn't have you, I'd never see the sun (see the sun)

You taught me how to be someone

Yeah

The rest of the girls joined you at the edge of the tongue of the stage, basically within feet of Harry and co. Sarah was freaking out, shaking Mitch’s arm with an enthusiasm H hadn’t seen since tour.

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love nobody can drag me down

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me down

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love nobody can drag me down

The Diamonds had now each taken a spot along the aisle, Bonni closest to the main stage, then Effy, Pearl, Bonni, and right at the front, you. The former band boy’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what was about to happen.

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me down (down)

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me (down)

Mitch turned to Harry, “Is she about to—“ He nodded, not able to use words.

Nobody, nobody

Here comes the moment of truth.

“Nobody can drag me dooooooowwwnnnn!”

Holy shit.

She was nailing it.

Nobody, nobody

Like a true lead singer, you took few steps forward and slid on your knees to the edge before signing your part again.

“Nobody can drag me dooooooowwwnnnn!”

Nobody, nobody

Slowly, you lifted your head looking up to the nosebleeds. Harry swore a halo from the stage lights lit up atop your head.

“Nobody can drag me down.”

The crowd was silent for a moment before erupting with applause in excitement and energy. The Diamonds and you rounded together for a big hug, relieved your surprise song did well.

Bonni waved to the crowd signaling them to die down, “I’m glad y’all liked it. Actually we all were really pumped for this song cause we all have a favorite in the band!” 

Fans screamed, overjoyed from the news. Effy laughed, “Ya, we all got to sing as our favorites, can you believe that?!”

Oh.

Oh.

I’m her favorite?

You cackled, picking up a lollipop that had been thrown to the stage and pulled the wrapper off, popping it into your mouth.

Harry’s pants got a little bit tighter at the sight.

“Yeah, you guys should’ve seen Logan in the recording studio, I think she about cried when we decided to this song.” Peal said.

Tonya was soon to jump in, “Exactly, this girl fought hard, no one was going to have Harry’s part except her.” H watched as you brought a hand up to cover your face.

“Oh come on guys, stop it…” You whined into the mic while hiding under your hand. Mitch bumped Harry’s shoulder, “Dude, I can’t believe Logan has the hots for you!”

Right as Mitch said that, Harry knew it was too late. 

A few girls beside them looked over to the commotion that a drunken Mitch was making, and promptly freaked at the sight of Harry Styles. Harry groaned slightly as the two girls whispered about the rockstar next to them.

What he wasn’t excepting was what happened next.

“HEY LOGAN, HARRY’S OVER HERE!”

Harry’s jaw dropped open while Sarah bursted out in laughter, fans started talking, loudly, about the man in the crowd.

“Logan! Over here!”

“Harry Styles is at your show!”

“I think he liked your performance!”

“Logan! Logan!”

You were enjoying the lollipop, finishing it and putting the wrapper around the sticky part of the stick when you heard some commotion from the left side of the pit. 

As the girls chatted to fans and each other, you walked closer to the bubbly whispers of the crowd calling your name. 

Harry watched in partial horror as you crouched down on the stage, roughy 5 feet from where he was standing. He watched your face scrunch in confusion, listening to the conglomerated voices trying to tell you something.

You spoke softly into the mic as to not disturb your fellow bandmates from their conversion with the rest of the crowd. 

“What’s wrong guys?” 

A few hyper voices spoke up and Harry saw it on your face the moment you knew. You eyebrows rose ever so slightly and you followed the trail of pointing fingers to him.

When your eyes locked, you knew you were done for.

Fucking— oh my, Harry Styles just watched me basically sell my soul to his song.

And he knows about my crush, damn.

You face flushed with warmth as did Harry’s, a pink tint lighting his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, you raised the mic to your lips.

“Hi Harry.”

<3

should i do a part 2?

masterlist

[ineverlookavvay]

fancy

Established relationship. A drunken Michael sneaks into Alex's house, sex ensues.

Fic prompt: “Are you drunk?” - Day 6 of Michael Guerin Week 2020

cw: alcohol, drunk sex. this one is just fluffy smut, y'all

Read it on Ao3

Michael was tiptoeing.  Not walking quietly, not watching his step, but actually tiptoeing.  He felt like a cartoon character, like somewhere out there someone was playing coordinated xylophone notes to each step he took.  He grinned, trying not to laugh, and surveyed his surroundings. 

The window was locked.  That was the first problem.  Actually, the first problem had been getting here, but he had accomplished that through a mixture of tiptoeing and taking an Uber, and so the second problem had become the new first problem.  It sounded complicated, but Michael was a certified genius, so he could keep it all in his head, no sweat. 

Michael considered the window, swaying a little.  He was almost certain this was the right window, although it might not have been, since it was difficult to get a hold on his exact positioning.  But he was at least 82% sure it was the right window.  He pressed his hand against the glass—it was cold and not very telling.  It didn’t, for example, come to life and inform him if he was indeed in the right place or not, although that would have been cool.  Terrifying, but cool. 

Without that confirmation though, he had to just trust his gut.  And the copious amount of alcohol swimming through his blood.  Both of which were confident he was in the right place.  It took him all of a moment to flip the window lock and open the window with his mind.  He wiped his clean hands on his jeans and climbed through the window with what he was sure was excessive grace—until he went tumbling over, barely catching his balance before he hit the ground. 

“Shh, shh!” he insisted at the window and the furniture and a nearby plant.  It looked like he was in the living room, so wrong window after all, but at least he was inside.  He could just tiptoe to the right room now.  He was sneaky, and stealthy, and impressive. 

Michael found the right room quickly, partly because he did in fact know the layout of this house deep down and partly because he could hear the sound of someone moving against bedsheets.  Michael grinned to himself, and toed off his boots, padding across the floor on his bare feet.    

The door swung open with a quiet creak, and Michael whispered another warning of “shh” at the hinges.  He could see the bed now, crouched like a boulder in the room, taking up most of the space, the bottom of the blankets tucked into the mattress, everything neat.  Michael could never keep anything neat, and he’d never tucked a blanket under the mattress in his life.  He smiled fondly at the sleeping form on the bed. 

Stepping carefully on his toes, Michael walked into the room and climbed onto the foot of the bed.  It creaked, too, suggestively lewd in a way that made his stomach clench in anticipation, and the figure under the covers started and shifted, suddenly resolving into the eyes and mouth and body of Alex Manes, blinking at Michael with his hair sticking up from sleep.

“Guerin?”

“Hi.”  Michael beamed at him, tipping slightly sideways and catching himself on his elbows when the bed shifted under them as Alex sat up groggily.  

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Regaining his balance, Michael started crawling up the bed towards Alex, who was looking at him with confusion layered with exasperation and something more positive that Michael couldn’t allow himself to guess at. “I was quiet,” Michael pointed out.  

The sheets on Alex’s bed made a quiet scratchy sound as his knees slipped against them, but other than that and their breathing, Michael had been quiet.  He had had lots of practice, especially when he was younger, in making himself small and quiet enough to escape notice, and even though now he wanted to be noticed, he could still make himself quiet enough not to cost Alex any sleep.  

Alex sighed and brushed hair away from his forehead.  Michael huffed a little—he’d wanted to brush away that hair himself, to feel the exasperated but fond breath Alex would let out against his wrist.  “I thought you had practice tonight with Isobel.”  

Michael raised an eyebrow.  “I did.”  He spread his arms wide, wobbling a bit as he did.  “And then I came here.  To you.”

Alex smiled a bit, indulgently, and Michael’s heart sang with it.  He’d missed Alex, even though it was just the one night, and with good reason—bolstered by Isobel’s ability to learn new alien skills, Michael had been spending some evenings practicing with her, but it inevitably ended with things exploding or flying menacingly through the air whenever Michael got frustrated with his progress, which led to a strict rule against spectators.  Tonight, practice had led to drinking, which had led to more drinking when Isobel pulled out the expensive liquor, which had led to Michael hitting drunkenness stage four and sneaking away even though they’d made a “no partners” pact with the first shot.  Now all he wanted was to wrap himself around Alex like an octopus and tell him that he’d missed him on this stupid partner-free night, more than Michael would admit even now. 

“You could’ve called.”

“Didn’t want to wake you,” Michael said matter-of-factly, gleefully crawling up the rest of the bed and situating himself in Alex’s lap, his knees bracketing Alex’s thighs through the thin sheet.  He grins lopsidedly.  “I was quiet.”

Alex laughed incredulously.  Michael licked his lips, his eyes trailing down Alex’s bare chest, and he could feel Alex’s eyes on his face, could hear the slight waver under the amusement when Alex spoke.  “Michael, are you drunk?” 

“I’m here,”  Michael said, leaning in and diving down to capture Alex’s lips in a searing kiss.  Alex tasted like sleep and sun and memories and Michael ran his tongue against Alex’s lips, drinking in the sensation.  His fingers danced over Alex’s chest, his other hand pressed against Alex’s neck, thumb caressing his cheek.  

The stiffness of surprise bled out of Alex, his muscles turning pliant under Michael’s hands as he leaned into the kiss.  Michael loved that, the feeling of the two of them pressing together until something gave, until they melted into each other and let the moment take them.  Michael had been hard since he’d seen Alex in the bed, his body buzzing with anticipation, the need clouding his mind. 

Michael ran the pad of his finger across Alex’s nipple, grinning as Alex moaned against his mouth and pressed his hips up towards Michael.  Alex’s fingers slid up the outside seam of Michael’s jeans, pressing the fabric against Michael’s warm skin, before settling on his hips, pulling him down closer.  Through the layers of cloth between them—his jeans and the blankets and the thin fabric of Alex’s boxers—Michael could feel the hard, hot press of Alex’s cock, and it made him dizzy with want.  

Michael pulled back and rolled his hips, humming as Alex laid kisses across his throat, and smiling when Alex’s breath hitched.  “Aren’t you glad I’m here?”

“Yes,” Alex breathed.  His hands found their way under Michael’s shirt, fingertips cold against Michael’s overheated skin.  Being with Alex was overwhelming enough when Michael was sober, but now it was both overwhelming and still not enough.  

Michael helped Alex pull his shirt over his head, shivering in the cool air of Alex’s bedroom.  Alex immediately pressed their chests together again, leaning in to suck a bruise against Michael’s collarbone while Michael dragged his fingers through Alex’s hair and whispered obscenities.

Alex’s hands slipped down Michael’s back, digging into the swell of his ass and pulling him in closer.  Michael gasped, bracing his hands on Alex’s shoulder, sweeping the blankets away from them with his mind.  He could feel his control slipping, the alcohol and the lust and the tension simmering in him, rising around him like a storm.  Michael’s eyes slid shut as he let himself be immersed in the feeling of Alex’s body, of Alex’s mouth.

That mouth which moved away from his skin too soon.  “Michael?”  Alex’s voice was rough with feeling, but suddenly amused.  “Are my things…floating?”

Michael opened his eyes hazily.  He could barely tear his gaze away from Alex’s face—his mouth red with kissing, his pupils huge and dark, his breath labored—but when he did, he realized Alex was right—all around them, Alex’s few possessions were hovering in the air.  Michael could feel it now, the tether of his energy holding it up, overwhelmed by the emotion that he couldn’t make himself speak aloud.

Michael grinned.  “Guess I’m excited or something.”

“Hmm, weird,” Alex teased, bringing their mouths back together.  

He squeezed Michael’s ass, encouraging the little pulses of Michael’s hips.  Alex’s fingers caressed the expanse of Michael’s back, settling on the waist of his jeans and tracing it around to his stomach, one hand pulling at the button while the other palmed the line of Michael’s dick through the fabric.    

“Fuck,” Michael whispered, rushing to help pop open the button and pulling back to yank off his jeans and briefs.  Alex watched him raptly, licking his lips as Michael finally freed his cock and crawled back up the bed, cock curving towards Alex invitingly.  

Michael cleared his throat, giving Alex’s boxers a disapproving look and Alex laughed as he carefully lifted himself to pull them off.  Michael practically vaulted himself back into Alex’s lap, wrapping his arms around Alex’s neck.  He licked into Alex’s mouth when Alex groaned at the feel of their cocks pressing together, at the movement of Michael’s hips as he straddled him.

Alex’s hands went instinctively around him, pulling Michael in as close as he could.  His fingers slipped down the cleft of Michael’s ass and Michael sucked Alex’s bottom lip between his teeth, swiping the wet heat of his tongue against it.  Tiny thrills of excitement and anticipation ran through him as Alex sighed beneath him and ran a single fingertip along Michael’s rim, slipping it easily inside him.  

“Oh,” Alex moaned, “you already..?”

“I may have spent some time in Isobel’s guest bathroom thinking about what I wanted to do when I came over,” Michael whispered, grinning devilishly.  “She has fancy lube.”

“Thinking,” Alex repeated weakly.  

“Yeah.”  Michael couldn’t stop grinning.  He felt so good, so exactly where he wanted to be, under the spotlight of Alex’s gaze.  He suddenly remembered something and floated a little bottle out of his discarded jeans’ pocket and up to hover beside them.  “I stole the fancy lube, too.”

Alex laughed, grabbing the bottle out of the air and reaching behind Michael to pour some of Isobel’s fancy, probably far too expensive lube on his fingers.  The bottle made a little snapping sound as it opened and closed, and the sound rang in Michael’s ears, building the anticipation.  Alex pressed another finger inside of him and Michael shivered.  

When Michael had found Isobel’s secret stash of lube, he’d been trying mostly to relieve himself without falling down, giggling drunkenly and catching himself on a drawer, pulling it open.  As soon as he’s seen the lube in the drawer, though, he’d thought of Alex, sleeping alone in his bed, and Michael’s mind had spun fantasies that made his knees weak, visions of Alex that still couldn’t live up to the real thing, to the real sounds Alex made, to the real feel of his body beneath Michael’s.  He’d fingered himself in Isobel’s bathroom with the sink running to cover moans he tried to stifle, then he’d apologized and told her he hadn’t been feeling well, and pocketed the lube with every intention of doing exactly what he was doing now.  

With Alex’s fingers stroking inside of him, Michael couldn’t help the sounds he made, the way his body squirmed, his hips rolling down towards Alex’s almost of their own volition.  Michael reached between them and stroked Alex’s cock.  It was enough to make Alex break his concentration and thrust up into Michael’s fingers.  Michael wanted absolutely nothing more than to get Alex’s cock inside of him, and to ride him into oblivion the way he’d been wanting to for hours now. 

“Condom?” Michael asked, and Alex nodded towards the nightstand, letting Michael deal with actually opening the drawer hands-free.  Floating a condom through the air was nearly as ridiculous as floating a bottle of lube, but Michael approved of all methods of progressing things that didn’t require him to take his hands off Alex’s skin.  

Michael ripped the condom open and rolled it onto Alex’s cock with one hand.  There was nothing inherently sexy about putting on a condom, but he loved the way Alex watched him do it, like everything Michael did was sexy, like Michael didn’t have to try harder to be what Alex wanted.    

Alex removed his fingers and gripped Michael’s hips as Michael repositioned himself, lowering slowly onto Alex’s cock.  Michael groaned as he finally slid down Alex’s cock; Alex bit his lip to stop from making sounds and still nearly yelled when Michael was fully seated on his dick, pressing their bodies together.

Resting his forehead against Alex’s, Michael took a moment to breathe before he tensed his thighs and started moving.  Alex’s fingertips dug into Michael’s hips, creating a crescent of bruises.  Michael tangled one hand in Alex’s hair as he rode him, moving their bodies apart and together and then fucking down in earnest.  

Alex curled towards Michael, letting out a groan with each deep thrust.  His skin was shiny with sweat, face open with lust.  He let Michael set the pace, kissing Michael’s mouth and neck and chest in turn, his hands clutching Michael’s hips, pulling Michael tight against him.    

Michael looked down at Alex, drinking in his eyes, darkened with lust, and his parted lips, breathing out hard with every motion of Michael’s body.  Michael could never keep himself away from this, from the hot press of their skin, from the sounds echoing into the dark spaces of Alex’s room, from the way Alex breathed heavily and kissed hard and canted his hips up to meet Michael as best he could with every thrust.  

“The things you do to me,” Michael said, panting around the words, his rhythm stuttering as Alex looked up to meet his eyes.  It still never quite made sense to Michael that he was allowed to have this, that Alex didn’t leave him for something better, that Alex even welcomed him into his bed, that they got to choose each other.  It didn’t make sense, but he had this—and not just this kiss, or this fuck, but all of it, everything Alex was willing to give him, always more than he expected, more than he deserved.  It peeled away the hard layers of armor Michael had always worn, and made him something softer with Alex.

Michael caught Alex’s lips in a messy kiss.  Michael was drunk on Alex, on the sensations, and also a fair amount of alcohol.  Alex slid one of his hands across Michael’s stomach and wrapped his fingers around Michael’s cock, stroking him hard and fast.  

Michael leaned in so that Alex’s cock hit his prostate with every thrust, pleasure zinging through him.  Alex stripped Michael’s cock while his other hand clutched at Michael’s hip, like he was trying to hold on.  

“Oh, fuck, Michael, I’m gonna—” Alex cut himself off with a loud moan, his hips pressing up hard against Michael, pushing himself as deep as he could.  Michael squeezed around his cock, watching Alex’s face, drinking in the look of ecstasy as Alex came, shuddering, his hand stilling on Michael’s cock. 

“Beautiful,” Michael gasped, tracing his fingers along the blush that spread across Alex’s cheeks.  Normally, Alex would object to words like that—hell, normally Michael wouldn’t say them—but now, glowing with sex, his face open and trusting and happy, Alex just laughed it off. 

“I still can’t believe,” Alex said, his voice thick and slow, his hand starting to move slickly over Michael’s cock again, “that you fingered yourself at Isobel’s, and then broke into my—fuck, Michael—my house.”  Michael grinned, driving his hips towards Alex’s impossibly talented hand, clenching gently around Alex’s softening cock.  

Michael opened his mouth with a retort, but then Alex moved his wrist just so, twisting his fingers around the head of Michael’s cock, and all Michael could manage was a softly moaned, “Alex.”

“Come on, Michael, cum for me,” Alex whispered commandingly, and Michael groaned as his muscles tightened and then let go, as he came all over Alex’s fist and their stomachs.  Alex’s things fell out of the air, some floating nicely and others clattering to the ground.  He shuddered as he collapsed towards Alex, pressing their lips together in sloppy, sated kisses.  

Alex laughed as he extricated his hand from between them, wrapping both of his arms around Michael’s back, holding them together as they kissed, breathing heavily, sticky with sweat and Michael’s cum.  Michael loved this, too.  He loved the part when they were both well-fucked and happy, where they could wrap every limb around each other, safe in each other’s embraces, where no one could make either of them feel small or unwanted or unloved.  Michael wanted to live here, in Alex’s arms, the air filled with the two of them, together.  

Too soon, Alex made a little humming noise and pressed Michael gently off of him, sliding out of him and sighing happily.  Michael moved obligingly, finding his way out of the bed and to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean them off enough for now while Alex got rid of the condom.  

Alex was lying on the bed when he came back in, smiling softly and looking so, so sleepy and satisfied.  Michael grinned—he did that, he made Alex look like that.  Michael slipped into the bed next to Alex, running the washcloth gently over Alex’s skin.  Alex inhaled quickly, sensitive, and Michael made sure to soothe Alex’s skin with his fingertips after the washcloth had touched it.  After a moment’s hesitation he licked the cum off Alex’s fingers, encouraged by the way Alex gasped and his cock tried valiantly to respond.  

Michael floated the washcloth into Alex’s hamper, winding himself around Alex, twining his legs through Alex’s, wrapping his arms around Alex and pillowing his head in the juncture of Alex’s neck and shoulder.  He felt calm and steady in a way he hadn’t all evening, soothed by their breathing and Alex’s hand on his back, the other twirling through his hair.  

“Stay?” Alex asked quietly, and Michael nodded against his skin.  Like hell he would leave now.

“Just try to stop me,” Michael replied, equally quiet, more for his own benefit than Alex’s.  If Alex had asked him to leave, Michael would have left; he’d have been upset, but he’d have left.  Alex wouldn’t ask him to leave, though, not anymore—he only asked Michael to stay now, and every time he did, strands of Michael’s trust began to knit themselves back together.  

“How did you even…did you break a window?”  Alex asked sleepily, pulling Michael closer, his hands running soothing lines across Michael’s skin.

Michael shook his head, suddenly feeling exhausted.  “Can pick locks…with my brain, ‘member?”  He paused, words coming sluggishly.  “I would though.  Break windows.  To get to you.”

Alex laughed, quiet and low.  “I’m glad you came.”

Michael snuggled in closer, kissing Alex’s neck very lightly.  “That’s what she said.”  He fell asleep to Alex’s affronted laughter.   

[igottoomuchwriting]

It’s Fine Now (Geraskier)

Geralt was sitting on his couch, staring at his TV with a blank stare. It was quiet in his house. Ciri was back with Yennefer, Roach wasn’t running around and causing chaos, and Jaskier—

Jaskier left three weeks ago. Not willingly, no. Geralt kicked him out. 

Well, not exactly kicked him out. Jaskier doesn’t live with them, Geralt’s anxiety about bringing someone new into Ciri’s life permanently keeps him back from letting the man stay with him. No, he made him leave after a fight. A nasty fight, one that they haven’t had in their year and a half of dating. They’ve bickered, yes, but it was never this bad.

“I’m just trying to understand what set you off, Geralt!”

“Maybe it’s the fact that you’re trying to stick your dick in everything that fucking moves!”

Geralt flinched, the fight playing back in his head. That was the night before Ciri came back from Yennefer’s, the night before Geralt’s two weeks with his daughter started. It was supposed to be a fun night, maybe a night that ended with the two of them rolling into bed before they had to worry about being quiet.

But no. Geralt’s insomnia had been worsening, and he had started getting jealous at all the people flirting with Jaskier when he was around and Jaskier flirting back. He knew the man would never cheat on him, but he still hated it. Hates it. He doesn’t know how to tell Jaskier without causing a fight or lashing out, so he held it back, thinking the feeling would blow over.

It didn’t

“You obviously miss the way you used to live.”

“Oh like you’re one to talk, Geralt.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Geralt had been talking to Yennefer more before the fight broke out. He didn’t know what to do, and seeing as she is his ex-wife and in a successful relationship, he didn’t know anyone better than her to see what he should do.

He may have also brushed Jaskier off when he was talking to her. Whenever he asked who he was talking to, he would be vague, ignore the question, or distract Jaskier. Jaskier never said anything, so Geralt thought it was fine. It wasn’t a huge deal, talking to Yennefer. They’ve talked all the time and Jaskier knows this, even if he and Yennefer don’t always get along. They are both very sassy and bully each other, though they have both assured Geralt it is all fun in games.

“I know you’re talking to Yennefer more often. You keep trying to hide it from me, never telling me who or why!”

“What, I have to pass who I talk to by you? I can’t even have private conversations?”

Geralt knew he should have told Jaskier, told him he has been feeling anxious and insecure about Jaskier flirting with people, but doing that would admit weakness. As much as Jaskier, Yennefer, and his therapist have tried telling him, it is still drilled in his head that admitting you are upset by something means that you cannot handle it on your own.

“Private conversations with your ex-wife is different than having private conversations with a friend.”

Geralt’s therapist told him a week ago that he needs to apologize. He had explained the fight and she was disappointed in him, he knows this. She gave him a list of ways to apologize, how to start off and how to not freak out when someone puts blame on you.

She assured him that it wasn’t just his fault, that Jaskier had faults in the fight as well, but that he should reach out. He was the one who made Jaskier leave, it would be better if he reached back out again.

“Green isn’t a good color on you.”

“Are you fucking serious, Geralt?! You’re the one freaking out at harmless flirting but I’m the one who is jealous?!”

Geralt looked down at his phone, seeing it was only 9 pm. He hasn’t been sleeping still, only getting a few hours in every other day, having no one to help him sleep or a guilt free conscience. 

He missed Jaskier, he did. He doesn’t know where they stood now, but he didn’t want to let the man go. He never thought they would be together as long as they have, that they would work together as well as they did, but they did. Ciri loved him too, loved him the moment Geralt introduced the two and has even taken to asking when Jaskier is going to come over, when he is going to be available to play.

He never thought he would be able to find someone to love with Ciri around. He doesn’t care if no one wants to date a man with kids, he knows that’s not the case. Plenty of women have flirted with him at the gym and outright told him they thought it was hot how well he took care of his daughter. He just never thought he would have the courage to date someone, bring someone into Ciri’s life before she moved out. He was ready to just have it be her and Geralt, no one else. He was happy with that.

Then that singer had the audacity to serenade him at the bar, to hold eye contact with him as he sang a love song in front of a bunch of strangers. He even had the nerve to leave a note with his phone number on his nightstand after they slept together.

And Geralt had been so enthralled that he called him back. 

Then a year and a half later, Geralt fucks it up.

“I’ve been trying so hard to be enough for you, to be enough for Ciri! I feel I can’t compete with Yennefer, and you going behind my back to talk to her hurts!”

“Then don’t compete with her.”

“Wh—What?”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

Jaskier left after that. He didn’t slam the door on his way out, no. He always had a quiet anger. He barely raised his voice in the fight. It was only in the end when Geralt started pushing his buttons. 

He was calm. He was able to control his emotions. If he was mad with Geralt, he would talk about it. He would voice his thoughts, and anytime they bickered, they would go outside, go on a walk if Ciri wasn’t around, hide in their room if she was. He would make sure that her life was never interrupted by people fighting as it had been when he and Yennefer were together. He was looking out for his daughter, even if that was the last thing on his mind.

He would look out for Geralt too. He would give Geralt space if he was feeling overwhelmed, if he was sensory overloaded and ready to snap. He would hold Geralt close if he couldn’t sleep, would stay up and sing to Geralt if he had a nightmare. He would make him food if he was too tired from work, would watch Ciri so he could take a nap after days of not sleeping. 

Geralt and Ciri were at the top of list, and Jaskier showed this over and over and over. But Geralt had the audacity to think he would leave, to think that he was getting bored with his current life. So he lashed out, pushed him away, hid away before Jaskier could hurt him more.

Jaskier didn’t deserve that. He deserved someone that would bend over backwards, would worship him the same way the musician worshipped his lovers. Geralt was never that.

But he wanted to be. 

He looked back at his phone. Twenty minutes had passed. 

He needed to fix this.

---

Geralt walked into the bar that he has frequented time and time again. It was packed, people dancing around and drinking. Geralt was surprised to see people were more slow dancing. The music was slow as well. Geralt looked up at the stage and his heart stopped when he saw Jaskier sitting on a stool, guitar in hand, as he sang into the microphone. The band that usually accompanied him must have been taking a break, giving Jaskier to sing about his feelings.

The song was sad, it was slow, the patrons didn’t seem to mind. They were all listening to his voice, holding their lovers and friends close, drinking and watching Jaskier.

Geralt snuck past all the people and went to the corner of the bar, eyes never leaving Jaskier. He could hear the pain in his voice and his heart clenched tight. He knows he was the one that put that pain in Jaskier���s voice, so the idea of singing a slower song at a bar would be better therapy than just talking to Geralt again. But he supposes that’s his fault.

The bartender shot him a look, a confused and angry look. Geralt wasn’t surprised. He knew that Jaskier was close with his coworkers and was never one to shy away from sharing his woes. He wouldn’t be surprised if the bartender found a reason to kick Geralt out before he talked to Jaskier. 

“Whiskey, on the rocks,” Geralt huffed. The bartender nodded, still eyeing him up and down as she got the drink for him. 

As she handed the drink to him, she leaned closer. “If you aren’t here to talk to him, I suggest leaving.”

Geralt stared at her with a neutral face, wanting to tell her off for butting into his business, but he knew she was right. He just thanked her and leaned back, turning his eyes back to Jaskier.

The pair of blue eyes met with his and Geralt froze in his spot. Jaskier had been setting up a microphone as the radio music played overhead, giving the band time to set back up. Jaskier’s face quickly morphed from one of confusion to anger, annoyance. Geralt watched as he leaned back to the man next to him, mumbling something. The mystery man’s eyes flicked to Geralt quickly before he turned back to Jaskier with a nod.

Gerlat quickly looked away, embarrassed. He didn’t know what they were talking about, what they were planning, but Geralt was scared to find out. He wanted to leave, save himself the embarrassment, hide away and talk to Jaskier later.

But Jaskier’s thirty minute break was in ten minutes, and if he left before that, he doubts Jaskier would ever talk to him again. If he is even willing to talk to Geralt now.

“How’s everyone doing?!” Jaskier spoke into the microphone after everything was set up. Everyone cheered, clapping as their favorite musician flashed them a smile. “Wonderful! I’m glad all of you could show. I would like to think you are here because it’s one of the few nights to see me live instead of behind the bar, but I know it’s really because it’s ‘ladies drink free’ tonight.”

The crowd let out a chuckle, Geralt included. Jaskier knew how to work a crowd, how to get everyone to love him within a minute of talking to him. 

“Now, how many people are here to forget about heartbreak?” A handful of cheers, some guys yelling about their partners being a bitch. Jaskier nodded his head at the response. “Glad to see we are all responsible adults who know how to handle our problems.” More laughs, some cheers. “I’ve got an oldie but a goodie—if we are considering 2011 old—to play tonight. For all of those who did not have an emo phase in high school, sorry you may be left out tonight. For those of you who did, get ready because this song will bring back those memories.”

The band started plucking at some strings, Jaskier watching them for the beat.

Geralt vaguely recognizes the song. It must have come out a long time ago. Based on what Jaskier said, when he was in high school. Geralt is seven years older than him, so he doubts they were anywhere close to listening to the same music when Jaskier was in high school.

“Of course he would sing Avril Lavigne with you here,” he heard the bartender grumble. Geralt looked over to see her refilling his drink, not looking up at him. “I would listen to the lyrics a bit more if I were you.”

Geralt nodded his head, turning back to Jaskier. He was walking around the stage now, singing his heart out as many drunk people in the audience joined him. It seemed to be a popular song, one many people knew.

You’re on your knees, begging please, stay with me

But honestly, I just need to be a little crazy!

Geralt grimaced at the lyrics. The lines seemed to hit a little too close to home, seeing as he was here to actually beg for Jaskier back. He doesn’t know if Jaskier knows this or is hoping.

All I want is to mess around

And I don’t really care about—

If you love me! If you hate me!

You can’t save me, baby, baby!

The words just seem to hit him more and more. Jaskier was putting all of his anger into this song. He could tell. Every emotion he felt, all the words he wanted to stay but couldn’t, all right here in the disguise of a song. Because he knows Geralt is here, he knows he is listening. He knows he has no other choice but to listen.

So what if I go out on a million dates?

Jaskier’s eyes turned right to Geralt, passion in his words as he held eye contact with Geralt.

You never call, or listen to me anyway

Geralt looked away. He couldn’t listen anymore. It hurt him too much. Every word Jaskier sang destroyed his confidence little by little, making him want to turn and leave, leave before he could make the situation worse.

The song went on, the people cheered, but Geralt stayed silent. He ignored the bartender’s eyes, ignored Jaskier’s gaze as he sipped his whiskey, going over the list that his therapist gave him. 

He doesn’t know how much time passed, but suddenly he felt a hand grab his arm and pull him out of his seat. Geralt stumbled and turned, ready to yell, when he realized it was Jaskier.

“We’re going to the back, Sam,” he called to the bartender, not once looking at Geralt. He didn’t wait for a reply before he pulled Geralt away, through the ‘employee’s only’ door.

The break room was empty, thankfully. He let go of Geralt’s arm and turned around, glaring at the man.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Geralt mumbled. Jaskier let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You’ve had three weeks, Geralt. Three. Weeks. And you choose now, when I’m at work, to come talk to me?” Geralt looked down, ashamed. He didn’t think that he would be mad that he was gonna talk to him at work.

“I didn’t think—”

“That’s nothing new,” Jaskier interrupted. Geralt shot him a glare. “Oh don’t glare at me, you brute. I have the right to be angry. You came to my job after three weeks of no contact. No text message, no phone call, nothing. You just told me to leave and left me in the dust.”

“I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. You should have thought this thro—”

“Will you please let me talk?” Geralt snapped. They held eye contact, Jaskier’s arms crossed and Geralt’s hands clenched at his side. It was a long moment before Jaskier spoke up.

“Well then?” he motioned at Geralt, staring him down. “Talk.”

Geralt took a deep breath, calming himself down. He knew this conversation would be a waste if he decided to snap at Jaskier again.

“I’m sorry,” he started. He glanced at Jaskier, but when the man hadn’t moved, he continued. “I shouldn’t—I should have talked to you. I shouldn’t have poked your buttons, or betrayed your trust, or kicked you out of the house.”

“What does Yennefer think about all this?” Jaskier asked, because of course he would. She was, in a way, the center of the fight.

“She thinks I’m a fucking idiot,” he grumbled. Jaskier blinked, seemingly shocked at that answer. “She—She yelled at me when she found out I told you to leave, when she found out that I hadn’t told you that we were talking.”

Jaskier bit his lip, fidgeting in place. He looked away to process the information and Geralt let him.

“What did you talk to her about?” Jaskier mumbled. He had shrunk in on himself, wouldn’t look Geralt in the eye. He was afraid of the answer.

“I wanted to know how I should talk to you.”

“Talk to me about what? Kicking me out? Breaking up with me?”

“No!” Geralt snapped. “I—I didn’t know how to talk to you about the people flirting with you, how you were gaining tips at the bar.” Jaskier didn’t say anything. For the first time since Geralt knew him, he was silent. Geralt let out a sigh and ran a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, because at this point he doesn’t know what else to say. “I don’t want you to leave, I don’t want you out of my life. I was just jealous and stupid and sleep deprived. I was afraid that if I talked to you, you would be mad, but I see now that not talking made it worse.”

Jaskier let out a deep sigh, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry too,” he mumbled. Geralt opened his mouth to say no, don’t apologize but Jaskier continued. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be flirting with people at the bar. It is all harmless, but I should have realized that it is making you uncomfortable. I don’t want you thinking that I’m gonna leave you for some rando who is probably cheating on his girlfriend as he is talking to me.” He looked back at Geralt, agitated.

“But you need to tell me these things. I am not a mindreader. And I don’t mind if you’re talking to other people, but I would like to be informed. You don’t have to tell me what you’re talking about, but at least say who you are talking to when I ask. Especially when it’s your ex-wife.”

Geralt nodded his head in understandment. He could do that much, he doesn’t have to hide from Jaskier when things are difficult. 

Jaskier gave him a small smile before walking forward, grabbing Geralt and pulling him into a hug. Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist and hid his face in his neck. Geralt wrapped his arms around him as well, holding him close as he laid his head on Jaskier as best as he could.

“I missed you,” Geralt mumbled. 

“I missed Ciri,” Jaskier replied. Gerlat huffed and smacked Jaskier’s butt. Jaskier let out and laughed as Geralt grumbled.

“I come here and lay my heart out for you and you say you miss my daughter.”

“I missed Roach too!” he defended. Geralt tried pulling away, pushing Jaskier away by the hip, but Jaskier whined and held on tighter. “Okay, okay! I missed you!”

Geralt hummed, satisfied as he pulled Jaskier closer to him again, keeping his hands on his waist. 

They stood there for who knows how long, just swaying in each other’s arms and holding each other close. Jaskier placed small kisses on Geralt’s neck and shoulder, and though Geralt would never admit it, each kiss made his knees buckle and his heart melt.

But he had a reputation to uphold.

“I should probably head back to work,” Jaskier mumbled. Geralt hummed again, but neither made any move to seperate. 

It wasn’t until Jaskier’s phone buzzed that they seperated, Jaskier groaning. Jaskier looked down at his phone and rolled his eyes.

“Sam thinks that I killed you,” he mumbled as his fingers tapped against his screen, shooting a text back to his friend. Geralt chuckled and kept Jaskier close, unwilling to let go just yet. Jaskier slid his phone back in his pocket and back at Geralt, a smile on his face. Geralt pulled the musician closer, sliding his hands into his back pocket as Jaskier slid his arms around Geralt’s shoulders.

“Are you gonna stay?” he asked. Geralt hummed, looking at his mental schedule.

“I’m not busy,” he answered. Jaskier smiled wide and Geralt decided he would do anything just so he could see him smile like that again.

How did he go three weeks without this?

“We close early today,” Jaskier mumbled. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, teasing Geralt. “You can chill at the bar and convince Sam that you are a good person, and I can finish up performing.”

“I guess,” Geralt grunted. Jaskier let out a laugh and finally, finally pulled Geralt in for a kiss.

As he leaned away, Geralt followed and caught his lips in another kiss, causing Jaskier to let out another laugh and God, how did he go three weeks without this beautiful man in his life?

“I do need to get to work,” Jaskier laughed when he pulled back again. If Geralt was any other man, he would whine, stomp his foot, refuse to let Jaskier leave his arms ever again. But he can’t. His boyfriend does have a job to do.

As they walked back out, Jaskier called Sam over.

“Just put anything he drinks on my tab,” he told her, shooting a knowing look to her when she raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not going to drink a lot,” Geralt grumbled. Jaskier rolled his eyes, pushing Geralt back on the stool. 

“Yes, but I know Ciri has field trips coming up that you need to save for. Therefore, just drink on my tab. I don’t mind.” Geralt let out a huff but didn’t argue anymore. Jaskier placed a kiss on his check before stepping away to go back with the band.

“About time that you guys made up,” Sam grumbled as she made him another drink. “He’s been down in the dumps for weeks now, so much that I was afraid the boss was gonna force him to take some time off.”

Geralt hummed in understanding. Jaskier isn’t the best at hiding his feelings, so it would make sense that his boss would force him to relax.

Geralt stayed silent as Jaskier went up to the microphone, talking to the crowd once again, but this time with a happy glint in his eye. Geralt smiled to himself, happy that his lover could perform his best.

---

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright getting home?” Sam asked. 

Jaskier nodded his head. He was standing against the bar, trying to help Sam clean off dishes and whatever he could with his boyfriend hanging off him, refusing to let go.

“Yeah. He’s a very easy drunk, surprisingly. He’s just gonna whine a lot,” Jaskier laughed. Geralt let out a hum in protest, but Jaskier just patted his head, lightly running his finger through his hair. Geralt let out a happy hum, placing more kisses on Jaskier’s neck.

“It’s weird seeing the big macho man who rarely smiles like this,” Sam laughed. Jaskier laughed as well. It was weird for him when he first saw Geralt completely wasted. They were with his brothers when it happened, and he refused to let anyone else be near Jaskier. If Jaskier had to leave his side for anything, he would whine and pout until he got back, to which he would just hold him close and kiss every part of his body he could reach easily.

“He’s just like a big, needy puppy,” Jaskier assured. “He is a little more vocal, but for the most part it’s just him clinging to me like I’m gonna disappear if he let’s go.”

“I see,” Sam mumbled. Geralt tightened his grip around Jaskier’s waist, huffing when Jaskier smacked his hand.

“Oh hush,” Jaskier scolded. “I need to breathe, Geralt.”

“Our times together prove otherwise,” he grumbled. A blush bloomed on his face as Sam let out a loud laugh.

“I think you should get the big hunk of muscle home.” Jaskier nodded his head. 

“Yeah, probably. He’s probably gonna pass out soon.”

“Geralt, I need to pee,” Jaskier grumbled. He had gotten Geralt to Geralt’s apartment, into the bedroom and into more comfortable clothing. Geralt had tried making out with him, wanting to go farther, but Jaskier just kept pushing him back. Now they were laying in bed and Jaskier realized that he had to pee, but Geralt was being a cranky toddler.

“No,” he huffed, holding Jaskier tighter. Jaskier just rolled his eyes before rolling away, forcing Geralt’s arms off of him. Geralt groaned as if Jaskier punched him in the stomach, or physically hurt him. Jaskier ignored him as he made his way to the bathroom.

When he came back, he laid down on his back and Geralt immediately threw his arm and leg over him, laying his head on Jaskier’s collarbone and snuggling into him. Jaskier let out a small chuckle, running his hands through Geralt’s hair. Geralt hummed and scooted closer, satisfied.

“Jaskier?” he asked. Jaskier hummed, so he continued. “‘M sorry. Shouldn’ have kicked you out.”

“It’s okay, Geralt,” Jaskier assured. “I’m not mad.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not gonna leave.” Jaskier placed a kiss on the top of his head, continuing to pet his hair until he fell asleep.

“Ciri would be mad if you left,” Geralt continued, obviously feeling the need to talk. “She was already confused when you weren’t here. She kept asking where you were. She was obviously upset and I didn’t want to tell her.”

“Well, we don’t want to upset our princess, now do we?”

“You should move in,” Geralt mumbled. Jaskier froze, staring down at Geralt in shock. “You basically live here. Ciri wants you to live here, keeps telling her teachers that her Daddy has a boyfriend who doesn’t live with them. It’s kinda embarrassing, so you should move in.”

“I think that’s a conversation we can have when you’re sober,” Jaskier deflected. He and Geralt have never talked about him moving in, and Jaskier was okay with that. He understood that he was probably scared to fully let Jaskier into his life, even after over a year of dating.

“I am sober.”

“Then in the morning, darling,” Jaskier said again. Geralt grumbled but didn’t complain, just snuggled closer to Jaskier.

It was quiet for a long time. Jaskier thought that Geralt was finally asleep, but he was wrong.

“Jask?” Geralt whispered. Jaskier hummed, but otherwise didn’t answer. Geralt didn’t like that because he placed his hand on Jaskier’s face, forcing him to look vaguely in Geralt’s direction. “Jask, Jaskier listen to me.”

“I’m listening!” Jaskier laughed, face slightly squashed by Geralt’s hand. 

“I love you,” Geralt said, and it was obvious to him that he thought it was the most important thing in the world right now.

“I love you too, my dear,” Jaskier mumbled. “Now, go to sleep. You need it.”

Bonus!:

“I see you two made up,” Yennefer said when Jaskier opened the door. Jaskier stared at her confused.

“What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off Ciri. I have a business trip I need to take.” Jaskier felt a tiny body tackle him, shoving his face into his stomach.

“Jaskier!” Ciri cheered, hugging him tight. “I missed you! Daddy said you were visiting family! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was a secret trip,” he answered easily as he hugged her back. “I couldn’t tell you in case someone overheard me. We don’t want the secret getting out, right?” 

Ciri nodded her head in understanding. She gave him one last hug before running past him.

“Where is Geralt?” Yennefer asked.

“He’s laying in bed with a hangover.” When Yennefer gave him a confused look, he explained. “He came to my work last night to apologize, and I guess he forgot that you were bringing Ciri back over because he just drank after we made up.”

“That idiot,” Yennefer mumbled. They heard Ciri yell ‘Daddy! Daddy, wake up!’ and Jaskier quickly turned around, calling back to her.

“Ciri, princess, Daddy is sleeping!” A second later they heard Geralt groan as Ciri laugh, most likely from jumping on the bed—or on Geralt. It’s not the first time she would have done it.

“And, she doesn’t care,” Jaskier sighed. Yennefer laughed and shook her head.

[getitinbusan]

97 Line :

Jungkook finally gets a night off to hang out with his friends. Fluffy, Smutty One Shot.

•97•97•97•97•97•97•97•97•97•

Jungkook was trying not to let his nerves get the better of him.

Coming back from tour he finally had some downtime and was looking forward to going to the club. It wasn’t just spending time with friends he didn’t see very often, it was getting to see you again.

97 Line Group Chat:

Bam Bam: We’ll be pre-gaming at my place and then heading to the club. I’m bringing Yugyeom, Jackson and his girlfriend and her friend Y/N so Jungkook you’d better be prepared.

Jungkook: You’re sure she’s coming? I haven’t seen her in months. Do you think she remembers me?

Mingyu: I know she doesn’t like me, I tried hitting on her 2 weeks ago and she shot me down. Good luck my friend.

Bam Bam: Jackson says she asks about you all the time. Pretty sure she has a crush on you JK.

Jungkook: Ahhh, I’m so nervous. You all better be good wing men tonight.

Yugyeom: I’ll make sure she has a few extra drinks before we go😉

Mingyu: So 11pm?

Bam Bam: Yep

Jungkook: Let’s Get it

Private Text:

Jungkook: Please make sure Yugyeom doesn’t get her drunk, I like this girl…a lot.

Bam Bam: I’ll watch him.

It was about 10:30 and the meal had just arrived. Jimin always ate fast but Taehyung liked to take his time.

Jungkook sat impatiently knowing it would take at least 20 minutes to get to the club.

What if someone else caught your eye? What if you got too drunk?

Jimin couldn’t stop laughing, “JK, how could she not like you? Just relax.”

Taehyung chewed slowly, “I’m not leaving food on my plate so you’ll just have to wait.”

Taking that as a challenge Jungkook reached over and grabbed his garlic bread shoving it in his mouth.

“I hope your happy, now we’re late and I have gross breath.”

Breathing deeply he got out of the cab. He’d thought about this night for weeks, did he look okay? Was his cologne too much? Did it even matter? You probably weren't even into him.

The door opened and he could feel the pulsing bass through his body, the lights and fog were immediately disorienting.

Was everyone already here or did he have to wait longer to see you?

Walking to the bar the three of them ordered  drinks and started to look around for the rest of the group.

We are bulletproof began playing and the dance floor went crazy. Jungkook felt a surge of pride that everyone was feeling it, he hoped you were here to see.

His eyes skimmed over the crowd, there you were.

At the front dancing, you spotted him too. Pointing directly at him and coming closer you sang in time, “The name is Jungkook, my scale is nationwide.”

He couldn’t help but laugh as you approached singing his own lines to him. God he wanted to kiss you. You kept singing and dancing in front of him until the song was over.

“Hello Jungkook.” spilled from your lips as you smiled. “I was hoping I’d see you tonight, it’s been too long.”

Should he? He put his arm around you in a makeshift hug, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Yugyeom appeared, slipping in between you he handed you both a shot.

"To friendship", he toasted.

Your glasses clicked in cheers and the shots were downed quickly.

Bam Bam's voice rose over the crowd, "Let’s VIP room!"

“Are you coming Y/N?”

You looked around the room, “I don’t know where Jackson and Y/F/N are, I’ll come after I find them.”

Shit did he just blow it?

“Ok, I guess I’ll see you in a bit”

Walking in seperate directions Jungkook felt his heart drop, he was sure you didn’t see him as more than a friend.

Monitoring the time closely it was a least 45 mins later when you appeared in the VIP with Yugyeom by your side.

Stopping at the bar you were both laughing while taking another shot.

"What an asshole," Jungkook muttered under his breath.

You perused the room until you saw him sitting there frowning. When your eyes locked he managed a smile but what little confidence he’d walked in with was gone.

The waitress followed behind you with several shot glasses and bottles meeting the group at the table.

“Shots for everyone!” Yugyeom called out.

Everyone grabbed one and cheersed, except Jungkook. Feeling tipsy you decided to leverage your liquid courage and take the lead.

“Come dance with me Kookie.”

Off to the side, Yugyeom made drinking motions and threw Jungkook a thumbs up.

Following you to the floor he was hesitant. He wanted nothing more than to be pressed against you but didn't want to take advantage of your state.

“Don’t be afraid to touch me Guk, this is just dancing, we don’t need formalities.”

It was now or never, if he didn’t make a move he’d end up back on tour masturbating to thoughts of how he’d feel inside you.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he pulled you in until your bodies were pressed together. Face to face he stared into your eyes.

“You know I like you right?” he whispered.

“I do,” you grinned, “Do you know how badly I want you Jungkook?”

He started blushing, “I guess I do now."

You began moving with the music, hands exploring each other, trying to make up for lost time.

Turning your back to him you pressed your ass into his crotch swaying to the music. Moving up and down grinding into him you could feel his bulge growing.

Closing his eyes he imagined you doing this in bed. He couldn’t control his erection so he subtly tucked himself into his waistband.

Turning to face him, your hands wandered, moving under his shirt your fingertips traced his abs. Continuing your path you dragged them lower feeling the tip of his cock sticking out his pants. It was so smooth and hard you just wanted it in you.

His mouth came crashing down on yours like he couldn’t wait a second longer. His fingers were in your hair, your head was back and your tongues met in a soft sensual dance.

It felt so good to finally break the anticipation but the taste of liquor was distracting.

How much have you had to drink, was this taking advantage of the situation?

“Jungkook, I’d like to leave with you if that’s ok?”

He nodded in agreement.

“I’ll be back in a minute i’m going to let Y/F/N know we're leaving.”

The minute you walked away Yugyeom approached Jungkook.

“You can thank me later, she’s had at least 10 shots and you can probably do whatever you want with her tonight.”

Shit, there was no way taking you home was the right thing to do. Disappointed and upset Jungkook went outside to clear his head.

He’d waited so long for this night and now you’d only kissed him because you were drunk.

Maybe he should just leave? Sitting alone on the steps outside of the club Jungkook was internally wrestling his desires against his morals.

You looked around the club and couldn’t find him anywhere. Fuck, maybe you’d been too forward with him. You knew Jungkook was a gentleman and now you were cursing yourself for coming on to him so strongly.

You’d already told everyone you were leaving so you might as well just head home. It had been weeks of anticipation for tonight, you were finally going to make your move and now it was ruined.

How did you even fool yourself into thinking that Jeon Jungkook could be interested in you 

Opening the door into the cool night air you found him sitting by himself.

“Hey Guk, I’m sorry if I scared you off.”

You sat down beside him, "I’ve just been fantasizing how this night would play out for a  long time and I got carried away."

He looked at you and reached for your hand.

"Do you really like me? I’m worried that the alcohol is making think you want me more than you really do.”

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Jungkook I think I can handle my liquor a little, I’m no lightweight”

“Yugyeom said he was giving you shots all night?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yugyeom is a dick, he told me he liked me and kept trying to hit on me a while ago. I gave away most of the drinks he bought me because I figured he was trying to get me into bed.”

His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, “So you’re not really drunk?”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek, “Jungkook I’ve had my sights set on you for months, I didn’t want anything to ruin tonight. This has all been planned since I knew you’d be coming here...right down to my lingerie.”

That was all he needed, his lips found yours again and you were immediately lost in each others lust.

The Uber pulled up and honked, startling you when you failed to notice its arrival.

“Who’s place is closer?”

“Too many people at my place,” he moaned. “I don’t want to have to be quiet, can we go to yours?”

Pulling up to your complex Jungkook led you out of the car and up to the door. Digging through your purse you couldn’t find the keys. growing impatient he latched on to your neck and dragged long deep suctioned kisses over your collarbone.

“You’re distracting me Guk, fuck we need to get inside!”

Finally locating them you made it into your apartment and clothes immediately began coming off.

“Bedroom?”

“That way”

Refusing to break contact you fumbled your way towards your room. Once in the door you steadied your feet as he halted the make out session. He cupped your chin and tilted your head to look at him.

“I need you to know how much I like you. I’ve thought about you for months, I've imagined being with you... it kept me going when I was lonely on tour.”

He slowly took off the dress you were wearing and revealed the lingerie you’d bought just for his eyes.

“Fuck, so much better than my fantasies”

Blushing your eyes took in his bulging cock. His black Calvin Kleins were straining to contain his erection.

“Kookie, do you know how many of your damn V-Lives I’ve watched just so I could see you?” 

He ran his hands up your arms and reaching around, unclasped your bra.

Tangling his hand in your hair he kissed you, hard. He moved his lips inch by inch lower and lower stopping at your breasts, kneading and sucking until you were moaning under his ministrations.

Lower again down your stomach, down your abdomen until he got to your clit.

Stopping there he sucked deliberately light enough to tease you, coaxing the juices from your already wet entrance.

Softly pushing into you with his tongue he moaned, “you taste so good, you’re so beautiful”

Your legs shook, struggling to stay on your feet while your body felt like it was floating. You held tight onto his shoulders as he spread your folds and twisted his finger inside you.

“Maybe you should lay down.”

He guided you backwards to the bed, laying you down so your knees were bent over the edge.

“Do you want to cum like this? Should I keep going?”

You could barely find your voice, “please keep going.”

He moved back in, two curled fingers dragging against your soft spot and his tongue flicking your clit relentlessly. It only took a minute to have you hyperventilating. Repeating his name you came on his lips.

He gave you a moment just to be still and catch your breath as he placed small kisses on the insides of your thighs.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m so much better than ok.”

He got up from his knees and you sat up, face to face with his six pack. Sucking red marks onto his abs you hooked your fingers into his underwear. Slowly you pulled them down exposing him bit by bit lowering your mouth with them until you’d taken him all in.

You could hear him slowly releasing his breath as you slid back up to the tip. Popping him out of your mouth you looked up at his face.

“I can’t believe you’re real Jungkook, you are so incredibly perfect.”

He reached down placing his hand on your cheek and smiled.

Putting him back in your mouth you began sucking him until he was hitting the back of your throat. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head where he grabbed your hair and pulled slightly.

Moaning at the tension, he clutched it harder, angeling your mouth to make it easier to thrust into.

His hips picked up speed and he was about to cum when he stopped completely.

He held your head still while his cock sat in the back of your throat cutting off your air.

“Don’t move, please don’t move, I don’t want to cum yet”

When he was under control he pulled himself away from you.

“I want you so badly you can’t possibly even know. I just want to fuck you so hard and fill you up until you’re screaming my name... but I’m not going to do that.”

Confused and waiting for an explanation, you moved up the bed to lean on the pillows. Crawling up to lay beside you, his rock hard cock pressed into your leg.

He kissed you, “I only have one chance to be with you for the first time and I want to make love to you."

He kissed you for what felt like an eternity, until you both reached the euphoric feeling of seeing stars in the black void of a blissed out mind.

He moved on top of you until he was positioned at your entrance. Looking you in the eyes he pushed slowly while watching your face for discomfort.

Finding nothing but pleasure in your reactions, he began moving himself, rolling his hips into you.

Neither of you could control your sounds and you found yourselves sweaty and moaning in an act of pure ecstasy.

Bringing your legs up around him his cock hit you over and over rubbing your g spot while his pubic bone rubbed over your clit with each stroke.

Picking up his speed he was reaching his high.

"Can I cum in you Y/N”

Pulling his hair you came for a second time.

“Yes, Yes, Kookie…please."

You could feel the spurts of his release spill inside you before he collapsed on top of you.

Holding onto each other, you rested. Post coital quiet took over the room as you lay trying to regain your strength.

His phone suddenly broke the silence, going off with incessant notifications. He snuggled closer into you not moving to look.

"Just check it already Jungkook it's making me crazy. What if something's wrong?”

97 Line Group Chat:

Bam Bam: JK? Where did you go?? Lol, hope you’re having fun brother.

Mingyu: I can’t believe she’d pick you over me, I’m way better looking. Must be your money.

Yugyeom: You're welcome, I had to get her good and drunk before she’d consider going home with you.

Jungkook: You guys can just shut the fuck up. Have some respect for Y/N.

Bam Bam: It’s…

Mingyu: About…

Yugyeom: Time…

Jungkook: How long did it take all of you to plan that clever response?

Jungkook: You’re all assholes.

Jungkook: Stop texting me.

Jungkook: I'm busy.

Jungkook: WITH MY GIRLRIEND.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/81416395

Chapter 74

They caught Nick. They came from all sides, eventually overwhelming him. He was already past various blows with their truncheons when one of them yelled: “Don't kill him! We need him alive!” “Let me go! I'm not Foggy Jack!”, Nick shouted, but he only received another blow for that. “What do we need him for?”, one of the Bobbies snarled. “Well, as proof?”, his colleague argued. “Sure, we can kill him now and tell everyone we caught Foggy Jack, but nobody's gonna believe us! When we bring him back alive, I bet we'll get a shiny medal!” “But I'm not...Foggy Jack!”, Nick tried again, gasping for air. “I'm Nick Lightbearer!” The Bobbies broke out in laughter. “Sure, and I'm the King of England”, said the one who stood closest to him. “Don't you recognise my voice?” “All I'm hearing is some pathetic whining of a captured criminal.” “I have to speak to Constable Hunt! He'll recognise me!” “You're not quite in the position to make demands!” “Come on! One of you should identify me!” Nick looked around. “Constable Rowley! Constable Whistler!, he blurted out. “You know me! Haven't I been always good to you?” The Constables he called shoved the others aside to look at him, but their faces weren't friendly.

“You fucked us over, that's what you did! Made us look quite stupid for thinking you've been stumbling around drunk in all these nights”, Constable Rowley spat. “But tonight you went too far!” “It was about time you snap”, Whistler added. “Besides, Constable Hunt is so stoned he'd even take a flowerpot for Nick Lightbearer. Whatever you drugged him with, it backfired!” “That wasn't me! The other one is Foggy Jack!” “How convenient. The one who's dead and can't defend himself!” “You have to make sure he's really dead!”, Nick begged. “No worries, we take care of everything, especially of you, celebrity”, the closest Bobby said smirking and ended the argument with a dose of knockout drops he drove into Nick's right upper arm.

Nick woke up in a prison for the second time in his life. Now it didn't look like he'd get off lightly. His first reaction was to rattle at the bars of his cell and call out for the Constables. When a tall man in a red uniform walked into his direction, he backed away a little. “What's up, little one? Need attention?”, the Bobby asked, playing with his electric truncheon. “You have to hear me out! I'm not Foggy Jack!”, Nick  continued to beg. “I see, you're our main attraction”, the tall man said quietly, stepping closer to the bars. “Did you find the other one? James? Is he...?” Nick gulped, avoiding the Constable's piercing gaze. “This is a sad day for Wellington Wells and a sad day for us Constables”, the Bobby began lamenting. “You brought great misery upon us all and we have the excruciating task of spreading the news.” “But I'm not Foggy Jack...”, Nick repeated in despair. “I'm...” But the man interrupted him. “Do you believe we can tell the horrible truth to our orderly citizens? Break their hearts like that and tell them that their most beloved idol has turned into their worst enemy? Can we allow the smartest of them to ask questions? Can we afford to make all the others unhappy? No, you see, we can't. It should've never been revealed. You should've never interfered.” Nick was confused. "But I..."

"Oh, don't worry, we won't put you to shame. Actually, it's easy. Uncle Jack went on holiday, Nick Lightbearer too and their names remain untainted. Nobody would want it any other way. But you...you're still here! You'll be the town's next great news! Your name is Norbert Pickles, right? Pays off to read the gossip magazines...You'll be a splendid Foggy Jack! Just try to look a tad bit guilty when you're being hanged." "...hanged?" The man's mocking grin turned wider. "Remind yourself, we're doing you a favour. You should be happy that we stopped you." "You know I'm innocent! You can't do this to me!" "Innocent, ey?" The Bobby laughed. "Think again, Mr. Pickles! We'd keep you anyway and let you rot in this cell. Instead, you get one last fancy show for yourself! You won't be able to hear the applause afterwards, but...you know what it sounds like...just imagine it." The Bobby continued to laugh, turned his back on Nick and vanished into the corridor.

Nick watched him go, his fingers still cramped around the bars. The Bobby's laughter faded away, leaving room for gloomy silence. Nick was out of words. He had no strength left to scream. Letting go of the bars, he slumped back on the plank bed. Wiping his face, he noticed he was still wearing the silver mask. He removed it and stared at it in disbelief. Foggy Jack. The way he had accepted it without asking questions... He had wanted it.

Nick dashed it against the brick wall. It made a little crack, not enough to satisfy him. Shame and regret spread in his chest. And disappointment. The friend he had met once in a lonely night, to whom he had opened his heart...he had lied to him, used him... Nick couldn't bear how stupid he had been. It made sense now. His mind had tried to warn him by showing him memories, but he had never understood. It had felt so good to be near James. The drug had blurred his sense. And then one thing had led to the other. Nick had stopped asking questions. Even now he didn't see everything clear, but he assumed things...He recalled the most important memories.

They made him shiver. Only a few hours ago he would've done it again. He had been so sure that this was the only way. He had even been looking forward to finally try out his gift. He still knew how he would've done it, how he would've moved the blade...If the Constable hadn't interrupted him... Nick broke out in tears and hated himself for it. He didn't want to cry for himself. He didn't deserve it. And still, he couldn't help but to feel pity for his former self that he had betrayed. He had never wanted any of this! He had always wanted to make other people happy, and to be loved in return. Yeah, he had also wanted to be famous, but not for hurting people. Nick didn't know what he regretted most. His stupidity or his lies.

Now he'll end in shame, hated and feared, hanged in public and sneered at by the masses. It was the worst show he could imagine and it would also drag his real name through the muck, the only part of his personality that was still of value. Memories overwhelmed him, scenes of former innocence, in the park with his first guitar, in the shop with Bates who had always welcomed him until he had fucked it up...He was glad to remember his old life again, but now it was hard to handle the memories.

Nick pulled down his wig and threw it away without giving it a glance. A crying fit shook him until he didn't even have enough energy to cry.

Perhaps he should be thankful that it ended, he then thought, lying on the plank. All the pain he had caused. It would be over. He should've died in his bathtub with the power cell. That would've saved other lives. Poor Arthur, having been entangled in all this... Nick comforted himself with the thought that Arthur was free now. He couldn't claim to be happy that his former lover ran away from him, but he understood. It hurt to remember how Arthur had yelled at him with this angry and panic-stricken expression, how he pushed him away. But he escaped James' clutches like that, he would survive. And he himself would be over it soon...

Nick wondered if the band would watch him too. He could imagine the whole town coming to see Foggy Jack hang. It hurt to imagine. Perhaps they'd think it's a different Norbert Pickles, not theirs, he mused. If they even thought much. Nick wished they would keep him in better memory, but there was still a tiny chance that they would. If his execution was long forgotten, they wouldn't link Foggy Jack to their old friend Norbert, right? A deep sigh escaped Nick. Sadly, it was time to leave the afterworld to it's own devices.

After all, he had gotten the chance to put a few things right, to find his friends again and be a part of the Make Believes for one last time. He couldn't prevent that they'd forget him, but on the contrary, nobody could take the good memories from him again. Nick even smiled a little, thinking about the excessive life he had led. He'd like to see anyone else do that!

Arthur didn't look behind once. He ran back to the Parade District and struggled his way through it. It was easier now. The Wellies were all sloshed enough to not pay attention anymore. Most of them were still trying to dance, some of them sang off-tune. They had parted into small groups and didn't care about who passed by. Like this, the night faded away and the next day came. Nobody made a move to get back to the usual business. The whole town was in trance. Drunken, stoned, tired. Arthur did everything in a hurry and didn't even make time to rejoice when he finally entered the rail tunnels.

He walked through the building, or rather climbed through the maze that the building had become in time. He felt like he had entered a different world. It was so quiet. His ears were still ringing from the noise in the town and suddenly all he heard were his own footsteps echoing from the empty, dirty walls. The emptiness felt  eerie. Arthur concluded that the Bobbies had abandoned their shifts for this special occasion. Nobody cared about Skippers as long as they could stuff their bellies or get high from Coconut Joy. After all, it was the biggest festival of the year. Arthur couldn't believe how lucky he was.

Finally standing on Britannia Bridge, he had to pause. He felt the cold wind running through his hair. Where did the wind suddenly come from? Had it been so chill in the town too? Arthur only now noticed something as usual as the weather. And the smell...was that the ocean? Arthur hadn't really paid attention to smells since his first shock from withdrawal. After getting a noseful of motilene, dead rats, mould and chemical waste he had gone numb. But this...Arthur couldn't remember smelling this in the Garden District. At his favourite place, the cliff... This was different. He was so close to the water. He could also hear it hiss and fume. It was quite loud. Walking closer to the balustrade, he could even see it. The stone felt cold and wet. Did Bobbies patrol here without noticing all this? The moonlight reflected in the water. Arthur had the feeling that even the moon was closer here. The sky was speckled with stars. It looked much clearer without the motilene fog. As if he could touch it. It was like the sky had arranged a welcoming committee for a petty Skipper like him.

Arthur turned his gaze, following the course of the bridge. He was surprised about how far it went. It showed him how tiny and narrow the town was, with all it's contorted alleys that all went in a circle. Arthur wondered how long it would take to cross it. The bridge faded into the dark horizon. And there, wrapped in blackness, lay the mainland. It looked so calm, untouched by all the madness. Did they know what happened here? And what happened to them? Arthur had never had the time to ponder over what the war had done to the rest of the world. But judging by the view he was provided, he thought they were better off.

Arthur made his first steps along the bridge. Here as well, he could hear his own footsteps. They mixed into the rushing of the ocean. “I'll be right with you, Percy...”, he whispered, as if he had to bolster himself up. “I'm almost there...”

He didn't get an answer. Suddenly, Arthur's heart sunk. He was disappointed, as if the ocean, the bridge or the moon were supposed to support him. Arthur's footsteps became slower, until he finally came to a halt. The balustrade had to stabilise him again. He didn't feel it's cold as intensely as before, because his own hands were cold now. Arthur leaned over it, sucking in the air. He looked up to the sky. What was happening to him? That was all he wanted. The freedom. The calm. But he didn't feel free. He felt awful.

“Percy, I...”, he began. The howling wind interrupted him. “Arthur!”, he heard Percy shout in fear. “Arthur, where are you?” I have to go, Arthur told himself. He forced himself to go on, left the supporting handrail and struggled his way forward. “Arthur!” He heard it again. But this time, it was a different voice. Arthur froze, staring at the wide horizon, as if he could hold onto it. The view was beautiful, a symphony of light and dark. Auspicious. It must be wonderful to join it.

But it wasn't meant to be, Arthur thought. Not for him.

He turned around and made a step. Then another.

Arthur ran back the entire way, possessed by only one thought. He didn't pay attention to how the ocean fell silent, how the fresh smell of salt in the air vanished and made room for the usual mould. He didn't look at the various desperate scribbles at the walls, messages from former Downers that had tried to escape, not at the faded poster of Uncle Jack, explaining that all Skippers were crazy. He was highly focused when he entered the town again and sneaked through the district. Still, nobody noticed him. The whole town was sloshed and sleeping and Arthur cold move freely.

He stopped at a big, unpleasant looking brick building to check the situation. It seemed like here of all places the town was still in order. A Bobby in red uniform sat at a counter and looked very awake. He also fought for staying awake. Arthur saw him slapping his own face and almost chuckled at it. What a shame that some Bobbies still kept their principles.

“What do you want?”, the man asked grumpily. “Visiting hours are in the afternoon.” “Wouldn't it be too late then?”, Arthur said mysteriously as if they shared a secret. “Too late for what?” The Bobby only looked warier. “Well...I heard you made a good catch last night.” “Did you?” The Bobby was unimpressed. “I still don't see why that's your business. Come back in the afternoon like everyone else and see if you're lucky.” “Perhaps this explains why I'm in a hurry...” Arthur held out his press pass. "This is the last chance to get anything useful out of him. People would die to read more about him...I mean, they don't die anymore...weird choice of words there..."

"'O' Courant, ey?” The Bobby read the pass. “Excuse me Sir, but our special guest isn't available for interrogations by the public eye. It's too risky, you know? A very unpleasant experience." "So, you're afraid he might say something...inconvenient?" Arthur could watch the Bobby regret his words. "Er, no, no...of course not like that...but he's...er...sleeky. We shouldn't give him any options to cause havoc." "So, I better go and write about that instead...", Arthur thought out loud. The Bobby didn't look amused. "What are you implying?" "Just what I said. I can only tell the public what I'm hearing. And besides, you do want a big story on the most cheerful event right after Memorial Day, right? I need to give them a monster they can hate, and therefore celebrate it's end! If he's not the monster we all think he is, I better go and correct that image." The Bobby flared up. "You shut your goddamn mouth you...!" But he changed his mind right after and sat back down. His look turned benevolent. "My apologies, Sir...It's been a tough night...Your reasoning makes sense. I'll let you through, but it's at your own risk, are we clear?" "Crystal clear", Arthur said, eagerly to go on.

He entered the prison, looking into every corner because he didn't trust them. But nobody seemed to care about their guest. Bobbies at another counter focused on some papers. Or perhaps they only pretended to work. Arthur decided to ignore them in return and walked on by. When he descended a long and wide staircase that led deep into the dark core of the building, he realized that he needed help or else he'd wander around in here forever. Arthur regretted that he hadn't gotten a welcoming committee and now had to explain it all again. When he heard footsteps behind him, he decided to use the opportunity. Every Bobby was just as good. Arthur turned around and found three of them walking towards him.

“Mr. Hastings, I presume?”, one of them asked. Oh, there was his welcoming committee. Arthur affirmed shortly. "You shouldn't go alone, Sir”, one of the Constables said. He was a lot friendlier than the one at the entrance. “This building is quite the maze, you could get lost. Let us guide you to our special guest. He's lodged in a special place." Arthur saw that he had no choice anyway and went with the Bobbies, feeling uncomfortable in two ways. First, they made his plan more complicated and second, he didn't trust them one bit. He began to wonder if the Bobby at the entrance gave up to soon, if it all had been to easy. That was why he kept his distance for them. No chance to be drugged by surprise or quicky hit with a truncheon.

They descended more stairs and went along more dark hallways. This truly was a maze. Arthur was glad he had quite a good memory, because no one would guide him outside. His heart sunk when they stopped in front of an empty cell. "Where is he? Is it too late?" Arthur tried to sound not too worried. The Bobbies gave each other a look. Then they brought out their electric truncheons. "You're arrested, Mr. Hastings, for illegal investigation!" "This is ridiculous!", Arthur shouted out. "You better cooperate, Sir. See, it's not so bad. You'll have a nice cell for your own, we'll feed you daily and you'll have nothing to worry about ever again. You can even take Joy." The Bobbies came closer, herding him towards the cell. Arthur figured the Constable only bothered to argue with him because he thought this was a done deal. Three armed men and one helpless reporter.

They didn't expect him to through a Banger at them. The selfmade bomb exploded in their faces and when they fell, arms up to protect their faces, Arthur dashed at them. He took the truncheon of the first and let it clash against his head. The second grabbed him but Arthur kicked him in the stomach and got free. He needed two hits to take him down. The third was pulling himself up at the wall when Arthur turned to him. It was a dirty fight. The Bobby was disoriented and flailed around. He still had his truncheon and Arthur had to make sure he didn't get hit by accident. Arthur striked a blow on the other man's long legs and made him stumble, leaving his head unprotected for a second. Another hit against the neck later he lay on the ground, still mourning. Arthur used the chance and kneeled down on the man, fixing him in place.

"Where is he?", he hissed at him. "Where's Foggy Jack?" The Bobby frowned and turned his head away. Arthur shook him. "Tell me or I'll blow your lights out! Do you really want to die for this?" The Bobby winced, then he stuttered a descripiton: "He's in...block A...in the east wing...left from the entrance...five stairwells down...at the end of the hallway...left..." With that, he fell unconscious. Arthur went on, looking for any sign that pointed to the direction of block A, hoping he didn't have to go all the way back to the entrance hall. He found one and followed it, then hoping he would descent the right stairwell. All he could make out of the description was that they kept Nick in a cell very far down, probably the safest area. Arthur gulped. Descending into hell couldn't be more uncomfortable.

To avoid the Bobbies he crawled along the vents and pig pipes that came out of the wall here and there. It was more confusing to orientate this way but Arthur set all his trust in his intuition that had saved his life so many times by now. Five stairwells later he actually found a long hallway that he followed, viewing it from his high above position on a pipe. Then he had to leave it to go left, but he had to wait for another red Bobby to pass by before he could to that. The Bobby slowly strolled, whistleling a song. Arthur frowned. How could this man be so happy despite everything? All the suffering prisoners. They didn't even give them Joy. Arthur heard them beg for Joy or cry about their missing children. He understood Nick a bit more now. If he had the chance to open all cells he would use it and he'd be happy to watch the chaos unfold. When he finally went on, his heartbeat began to pound in his temples. He was craving to see him again but he was also afraid of the moment. And also, he was afraid that he had gone the wrong way. There were many empty cells in this hallway and Arthur wondered if it was even still in use.

One cell had a prisoner that made Arthur's heart miss a beat. He walked towards him with high hopes, because he had seen the person wearing a black suit. The man lay on his plank bed and stared at the wall with an empty expression. Arthur eyed his face and hair and saw nothing familiar in both. This man was probably here for a long time, considering how empty he was. Disappointed,  Arthur turned his gaze away and went on. He found more empty cells next to this and his heart sunk.

Suddenly, he heard a faint voice say his name. Arthur froze in his tracks and looked around. He saw that the man in the black suit had gotten up and clutched the bars. Arthur walked back to him, eyeing the prisoner up and down. When the man saw him from up close, his eyes widened. "Arthur?", he said again in disbelief. The voice didn't fit the image. "Nick?", Arthur asked, doubting. The other man seemed to notice something. He put a hand on his cheek. He was wearing no mask and he also wasn't wearing any facial hair other than a few stubbles. His hair was darker, shorter and an utter mess. It was lacking the caramel tone that Arthur adored so much. He also looked younger, despite being all pale, having dark rings under red eyes and being unshaven. It was his expression, his eyes that finally made Arthur see something familiar in him.

Nick blushed. "Yeah, it's me...If I knew you would come, I would've made my hair..." He gave a little adorable smile. Arthur melted. He reached out and put his hands on the other man's, so that both were grabbing the bars. "Nick!", he sighed. Nick's eyes watered again, but this time out of happiness. Simply feeling Arthur's hands on his was a gift from heaven. "Are you a prisoner too?", he asked. "No, I'm here for you...", Arthur answered, now recognizing and adoring the green eyes. Nick looked down as if he was flattered, smilling widely. "You came back for me?” “U-huh.” Arthur nodded happily. Nick palpated the other man's hands. “Do you have the key?" Arthur beamed at him. "Who the fuck needs a key?"

Arthur admitted to himself that causing an explosion in a prison full of enemies was a big risk, but it was simply what felt most satisfying. When the damn cell door blew up, deforming and screeching as if in pain and finally shattered on the floor, Arthur was about to dance with joy. Well, a second later it seemed like someone had had the same idea because they heard another massive explosion that even made the walls shake for a moment. "What the hell was that?", Nick gasped, looking up to the ceiling. "Not a part of my plan", Arthur assured him. "We better get out of here quickly."

They heard hasty footsteps and screams coming from the upper floors. Stairs were run up and doors slammed shut. However, Arthur sensed that their hurry wasn't directed at them. None of their footsteps came closer. Instead, Arthur and Nick approached them. They ran along the corridor without meeting a patrol. Then they reached the pipe that Arthur had climbed and for the first time Arthur doubted his plan. “It would be better if we...”, he said and pointed at the pipe. Looking at Nick, he hoped the man understood and wasn't too scared. Nick's gaze shortly wandered along the pipe, up to the ceiling. “Go ahead, I follow you”, he simply answered.

Relieved, Arthur started to climb. He kept looking back at Nick, checking how he was doing and offering help. Nick copied his every move without protesting and Arthur soon calmed down. They tracked through the prison as if they had been practising this for ages. They saw Bobbies running along, cussing or lamenting. None of them sounded like he knew what was going on. They only complained about the fuss. Also, none of the prisoners were free. They jeered at their guards, but it was obvious that this wasn't a revolution. Arthur felt sorry for that but he had no time to make any change.

A few floors later they could see the big staircase. Arthur gestured Nick to stop. Fuck in a bucket, Arthur thought. This didn't look good. Any and all Constables gathered here and lined up. Also Nick saw it. “Oh dear...I guess they won't let us pass for an autograph?” Arthur searched the staircase, finding out that they could climb on a ventilation shaft, even though they would be seen by everyone. It also meant that after climbing, they couldn't just get down from it and walk out. However, at the ceiling he detected something that looked like a hatch. He hoped he could trust his judgement at a long distance, knowing that he had no other chance anyway. “We have get up there”, he explained his plan to Nick. “Just try not to look down and don't get distracted.” Nick approved with a nod. “Okay.”

They ascended the shaft that provided more support than the greasy pipe. It didn't take long until a Bobby saw them. "Oi!", he cried out, pointing at them. "They escape!"  It didn't matter who "they" were, as long as they had someone they could blame all the chaos on. The Bobbies started to yell and reach out for the shaft, trying to climb on it. Arthur's heart skipped a beat when he saw that one of them climbed on another Constable's shoulders. "Don't panic, just climb a little faster", he said to Nick and fastened his own pace. He didn't imagine that a Bobby could get on the shaft and chase them down on it. Nick went along and tried to ignore the howling of his enemies. Soon, they had to step on the hands that reached the shaft, but that didn't stop the Bobbies from trying. Arthur had to go for drastic measures. "Hold on!", he said to Nick and threw a bomb right into the mob. The power sent them flying, slapping against the walls and each other. As funny as it looked, the show was accompanied by the sound of bones breaking. The Bobbies' yells of pain mixed with their howling and the smell of burned flesh spread in the air. It was a bloodbath.

Arthur now focused on the hatch. "We're almost there!", he shouted over the noise to bolster Nick up. Finally, they climbed up the ladder to the hatch. Arthur threw himself against it and was surprised by how easily it opened. He almost fell upwards and yelped. "What is it?", Nick asked fearfully. "Nothing, nothing, we're safe, just get out..." Arthur climbed up and crawled onto the cobblestone. Then he grabbed Nick by the arm to pull him out. "Holy shit!", Nick gasped right after landing on the cobblestone himself. Arthur turned his head to where Nick was looking. "What the...?" The town had changed completely. Houses and cars were burning, corpses lay on the street and some remaining Wellies ran around, wielding truncheons or frying pans, looking like they got into a fight. Perhaps this was the revolution. It could also be Coconut Joy at it's finest. "What happened?" Nick was confused. "I have no idea, but we should stay out of this at any cost. Follow me."

Nick didn't ask any further questions when they went on. They heard screams in the distance that made Arthur's hair stand on end and he begged inwardly that they didn't get into a fight. They ran through clouds of smoke, holding their breath. Turning a corner, the sight didn't get better. The district descendet into chaos. The former order didn't apply anymore, as all the TV screens were demolished and the drones lay on the ground, burning to ashes. There were no Constables, at least no living ones. Ripped banners and destroyed marked stalls were the remnants of the once happy festival. It looked like the Wastrels had taken over. “Liars!”,  was scribbled on a poster, right over the false smile of a model. “They were so small”, was painted on another house.

"They are off their Joy!", Arthur stated. "You were right! This town is falling apart!" Nick eyed the chaos with terror. They ran down the once glorious alley that led to the train station. It's door was open. Arthur had a bad feeling about having to fight through a bunch of hysterical Wellies in there, but he also admitted that it wasn't a surprise that others wanted to escape, too. They ran throught the open door, passed by the shredded poster of Uncle Jack and went on downstairs. Arthur calmed down a bit when they walked along the rails, towards their freedom. "This is the way out of town, right?", Nick asked after a while. "Yes", was all Arthur could say. Nick didn't answer. Arthur was already glad that he didn't protest. They began to hear muffled voices in the distance, as if there was a group of people nearby. "Oh, perfect", Arthur gasped. "Let's hope they're friendly." It didn't seem like it thought. They could hear yelling and running and things hitting other things. Arthur was about to discuss a plan with Nick when another sudden explosion shook the building. The walls gave in, the floor cracked open and the tunnel got filled with a thick plume of dust. It was impossible to see where to run. Nick and Arthur just held onto each other.

When the dust had set and it was silent again they opened their eyes. They were kneeling on the ground, embracing each other. Arthur let go first to climb up the debris, to see how bad it was. "No!", Arthur screamed at the mountain of rubble that blocked their way out. He tore at the chunks of wall, but they were too heavy to be moved by one person alone. "Nick, we need to do this together!" Nick quickly stood by his side and pulled at the chunk too. It didn't move. They were giving their best, but Arthur also knew that they both were exhausted. "Goddamnit, I wasted my last bomb on the Bobbies! We need to find another way!" Arthur let go and climbed back. "Arthur..." Nick's voice was quiet and consorting. "I think this is blocked, too." Arthur looked up and saw the tunnel being clogged up by debris. "No...", he gasped and searched the other walls for a way out. A vent, a pipe, a hole, just something. Nick looked around on the other side. But no matter how throroughly they searched, the wall didn't grant them their wish.

"So this is it?", Arthur yelled, punching the wall with his fist. "This is how it ends? I wanted to save you, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you! This isn't fair! Nothing is ever fair in my life!" He slumped down on a chunk. He thought about Percy, who he had failed to protect, who would now never know that his brother still cared about him, he thought about Sally who he had driven out of his house for something that hadn't been her fault. He saw how he had met her again, scolding her instead of saying sorry, how he had refused to help her when she had needed it the most. And how he had abandoned Nick, left him to deal with this insane killer. If he had taken Nick with him at his first escape, they would be on the mainland now, being free, viewing the stars together... Arthur's eyes welled up. "Why am I such a failure?", he shouted out, looking at the ceiling as if there was a god to answer him. The tears broke loose and made him huddle up, being too embarassed to look at Nick anyway.

Nick walked over to his desperate, sobbing lover and sat down next to him. Soon, Arthur was wrapped into a caressing embrace. "You did save me, Arthur", Nick whispered to him. "From being hanged in public. From being insulted, pelted with trash and spit on. From having the town dance on my grave..." A little rumble in the distance made him look up. However, nothing but silence followed it. "You will still die here...", Arthur rasped. "You'll starve if we can't find rats to eat..." "I was already dead", Nick replied. "But you came back for me, proved me your love like that...showed me that after all this I'm still...I'm still worth loving...this is the most beautiful thing you could've done for me..." He stroked Arthur's back. "I'm sorry you have to pay such a heavy price for this...You did enough to deserve a happy life and I wish I could make it up to you, prove my love in return. Also I'd love to spend more time with you." He kissed the other man's cheek.

Arthur sobbed, but less deeply than before. He palpated Nick's arm. "We still have some time left..." "Hmm, that's the spirit", Nick purred. Arthur let out the air and smiled a little. "Nick, if you really feel like that, if you feel it was all worth it...then I don't regret anything!" "Well, I guess you had your reasons, doing all this for me..." Nick squeezed his hand. "You're a crazy fucker, Nick and you deserve a beating for not telling me the truth!" Nick held up his arms and bowed his head. "Well...feel free to give it to me now..." Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders. "I know a better way to spend my last bits of energy..." Nick smiled. "My luck..." His hands explored the other man's upper body. "And mine..." Arthur closed his eyes and kissed Nick. The touch caused his synapses to flare up and his body to want more.

They busied themselves, ignoring the rumbling noises around them. There was nowhere they could run anyway. All Arthur cared about was if he could make Nick beg for mercy before they died. When they both shouted out their exstasy there was a moment Arthur thought the ceiling would give in.

A few moments later, when Arthur crawled off of Nick, gasping and moaning with pleasure, his lover cuddled into him and whispered: "I think the tunnel is about to collapse..." "Yeah, I figured that too...", Arthur sighed out of breath. They both eyed the ceiling as if they were lying in the grass stargazing. "I like to think it's because of us." Nick laughed. "Perhaps we'll make it into the history books." Arthur joined the laughter. "We fucked so hard the town got destroyed..." They had fun imagining this until a thin crack wandered along the ceiling of the tunnel. Arthur instinctively pulled the smaller man closer and pressed his head against his chest.

"I'm not scared, you're scared...", Nick muttered from under Arthur's arm and the taller man giggled. "I won't risk to die in fear before this show ends", Arthur advised him. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this by the way", Nick brought it up and grabbed his hair. "If I knew you were coming, I..." Arthur waved him off. "You've always been ugly." "Yeah, but I mean I would've made myself extra ugly," Nick deadpanned. "Nevermind, I have to deal with it now. It takes a lot to be your boyfriend, I figured that, but I'm used to suffering", Arthur answered sternly. Nick chuckled. "My sexy Downer..." Arthur had to grin at that. "I wonder, did I seduce you?" "How could I resist?", the rock idol blurted out. "With your formfitting suit, tightly parted hair,  sharp cheekbones to die for and always towering above me like that...I mean no, not at all..." Arthur stroked the other man's dark hair. "Poor thing..." "Yeah, my thoughts exactly." Nick folded his arms. "I am the victim in this." Arthur kissed him again.

He was just wondering how often he could kiss Nick before it was over when there was another rumble that made dust ripple from the walls. Arthur looked up but Nick's gentle hand pulled him back down. "Thank you", the rockstar whispered and kissed him again. The ceiling came down with a roar.

Darkness. Silence. Then something. A noise. Like a beep. A beep? Yeah...a beep. And light. A flashing bright light that hurt his eyes. He blinked, frowned, moaned. The light split up into colors. The shadows in front of him slowly turned into figures. Could it be? No...no... Oh, please, no...

"Welcome back, Mr. Worthing", the hideous face of a doctor cheered. "Thank goodness we found you in time! We would've lost you forever! You shouldn't be so careless. Also, you caused quite the trouble out there." He tutted and shook his head. "I can't believe you fooled us for so long, but don't worry, it was simply the wrong formula that made you do this. We have a much more advanced one right here." He showed him a syringe with an ominous pink fluid in it. "No!", Jack cried, hammering against the glass wall of his cell. "No, please, just kill me!" "Aw, why would we do that?", the doctor said with a pitiful face. "Killing you for a little accident." He waved him off. "You're everyone's best friend. Their uncle!" "You can't go on with this forever!", Jack spat. "You don't even have a working formula! You'll never have one!" The doctor scratched his beard. "Hmm...you should let the science to the experts, Mr. Worthing. Your own attempts of self-medication went terribly wrong, didn't they?" Jack frowned. "Aw, what's that face? We want your smile back, Mr. Worthing. Do you remember it?" "Stop! Stop this bullshit!", Jack blurted out. "If not, then you're lucky. You're just in time for another News Hour with...well, with yourself! Isn't that funny, haha! Who else can watch himself on the telly, you're truly blessed!"

The doctors started to laugh. The one who had been talking pointed at the TV in a corner of the room. Jack cursed the damn thing. Why couldn't at least the doctors stop watching this shit? They didn't believe a word of it but still enjoyed hearing the happy lies. Jack suffered when the screen lit up and the stupid jolly show began. Well, when he closed his eyes he at least didn't have to see his own awfully forced smile.

This was his punishment, he concluded. Endless torture. This time they wouldn't be so stupid to trust him. They perhaps didn't really care about healing him. They could broadcast the old shows for all eternity and nobody would notice. Oh, Nick... He did this to him...He was such a smart boy...He did the right thing...still, it hurt... "She loved them, you know...She had dozens of them...You'd think at twelve your daughter would be over dolls...but she made these darling little costumes...", he heard himself say. Oh, yeah, my dear Margaret...she didn't deserve any of this...but wait, why was he talking about her?

Jack opened his eyes and saw himself shiver, struggling to speak. The smile was gone. The doctors watched the show in horror. "What is this?", one of them gasped. "Someone has to stop that!", the other one shouted. "Send a message! Now!", the third one ordered to the first. Jack stared at the screen, having goosebumps all over his body. This had been his last broadcast before they had brought him here. This was his old, innocent self. "Stop taking Joy!", his old self shouted. "The food has run out! We're starving! You have to stop taking your Joy! We've come to the end of our time! We've come to the end of our time!" The doctors ran around the room in panic, trying to figure out who to message first and yelling commands through the speakers. Then something very big detonated with an earshattering noise and made the room shake. The doctors stumbled, yelled, fell onto each other, others ran in, some ran out, glass tubes fell on the floor or the delicate machines and spilled their insides, it was pure chaos.

Jack laughed. He laughed out all his pain, his suffering, his misery that he had bottled-up in all those years. It felt so releaving to see their panic, to see how his own doing caused this. Also, it was very funny to watch. He hadn't had so much fun in years. Another glass tube was knocked over by a Doctor and it's liquid ran over a console, causing a loudly hissing short cirquit. Seconds later, Jack's cell door opened. Nobody noticed. Jack walked out and enjoyed his tour through a building full of his enemies' despair.  He noticed it wasn't Haworth Labs and he liked to think that something even worse had happened there so they couldn't bring him to his old cell. What a shame though. He would've liked to pay Verloc a visit. But he also knew that the game was over.

Stepping outside, he found the Parade Disctric in a horrible state. His own broadcast had stopped playing, but the Wellies nevertheless had obeyed their good old Uncle Jack once more. He sighed deeply, looking around with a smile. He was at peace.